A Catered Fourth of July (26 page)

T
wo hours later, Bernie and Libby pulled into Juno's driveway and parked in back of the Infinity. “So she can't get out,” Bernie explained.

“I figured.” Libby looked down at the package by her feet. The gift bag was a plain bright blue bag, while the gift inside, if you could call it that, was covered in Hello Kitty paper and finished off with a big pink bow for reasons she could not discern. “I don't know about this.” She'd been having second thoughts about what they were about to do.

“Don't be silly. What could go wrong?”

“You want a list?”

“Not really.” Bernie turned and reached for the wicker hamper in which she'd stowed a bottle of champagne and four glasses. “It satisfies my sense of occasion,” she'd replied when Libby had asked why they needed it.

“Yeah. But the good stuff?” she had complained. “You could have gotten domestic.”

“I don't do domestic,” Bernie had replied. “I do French. Otherwise, what's the point?”

Libby was still thinking about her sister's comment as Bernie grabbed the hamper and got out of the van. Libby followed with the present.

A minute later, Clyde's car pulled up in back of them. Bernie made a V for Victory sign with her left hand, Clyde nodded, turned off his vehicle and got out. He watched the women walk down the path that led to Juno's backyard, as he got himself and Rick situated behind a large blue spruce. Clyde wanted to be sure they were able to hear everything without being seen. In fact, that was the point of the exercise.

“Let's do this,” Bernie said to Libby when they got to the gate. She pushed it open and they stepped inside.

Juno and Gail were sitting at the wrought iron table. They turned when Libby and Bernie came into the backyard and set the hamper on the table.

“What's this about?” Juno asked. She was wearing another caftan and even more jewelry than the last time Bernie had seen her.

Bernie smiled brightly. “I thought we'd celebrate.” She went over to Hilda and gave the pig a few pats on her head and an apple she'd saved for her.

“Celebrate what?” Gail asked. She was dressed in a raspberry-colored linen shift and three-inch red espadrilles.

Bernie walked back to the table, opened the hamper, and set out the champagne and the glasses. “Only the best for us.”

Juno frowned. “I don't get it. What are we celebrating?”

Bernie popped the cork. An arc of champagne flew out. “We're celebrating your accomplishment, of course.” She poured some of the champagne in each glass then lifted her flute. “To taking out the trash.”

Libby lifted her glass. “To teamwork.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Gail demanded, although Libby could tell Gail had a pretty good idea of what she meant.

Bernie took a sip of her champagne. “My sister is talking about your and Juno's teamwork. It was very impressive.” She watched Juno swallow in fear.

“I think you should leave.” Juno's voice was a little shaky.

“Don't you want to know why we're here?” Libby asked.

“Not really.” Gail's voice, too, was unsteady.

“If that's the case, why did you come?” Libby challenged.

Gail didn't answer.

“I have to say, that's a very chic ensemble you're wearing. You must be broken up by your husband's arrest. If it were me, I'd be wearing something a little more subdued, but I guess everyone grieves in a different fashion.” Libby shook her head.

Gail wet her lips. “Exactly. Different people react to things in different ways. Getting dressed up makes me feel better.”

“Really?” Libby said.

“Yes, really,” Gail answered.

Bernie smiled an even bigger smile. “Would you like to see the present we brought you?”

Juno tittered. “A present? For us? First the champagne and now a present?”

“Yes. It's a surprise.” Bernie put the bag on the table and took the present out. “I'm sorry about the paper, but I was in a hurry. It was either this or Thomas the Tank.”

Juno and Gail looked dumbfounded.

“You don't mind if I unwrap this for you, do you? Good,” Bernie said before either of the women had time to answer.

As everyone watched, Bernie unwrapped the musket she'd found in the shed. “Look what I found.” She brandished the rifle in the air. “Isn't it amazing? You know, this thing is worth a lot of money. How much do you figure, Libby?”

“I don't know, Bernie. I don't want to be greedy.”

“But we don't want to shortchange ourselves either, Libby.”

“No, we don't, Bernie. A modest amount . . . say a thousand a month . . . would suffice.”

“From Juno and Gail each or from them together?”

“Definitely from each. Does that seem fair to you?” Libby asked the women.

Neither replied. They were sitting with their mouths open.

“Here. Have some champagne,” Bernie said. “I find a little bubbly always makes things easier.”

Juno found her voice first. “Are you trying to blackmail us?” she spluttered.

“She gets it,” Bernie told Libby. “Finally.”

“You can't do that,” Gail cried.

“Of course, we can.” Libby indicated her sister. “We are.”

“But we haven't done anything,” Juno stated.

Bernie widened her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Juno said.

Gail put her hands on her hips. “Tell us what you think we did,” she demanded.

Bernie extended her hand to Libby. “You start.”

Libby nodded. “With pleasure. You're both responsible for killing Jack Devlin.”

“That's ridiculous,” Juno cried.

“Absurd,” Gail added. “We weren't even there at the time. Juno was in the rose garden and I was home.”

“And then,” Libby continued, ignoring Gail's comment for the moment, “to add insult to injury, you framed your husband for it, although you were really sloppy about that.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Frame him?”

“That's right,” Gail said.

“Interesting,” Bernie said. “I'm remembering the conversation in which you confided that you thought your husband had killed Jack Devlin. We urged you to go to the police, and you did. Clyde took you down to the police station and you made a statement, which is why they arrested Rick.”

“Well, I was scared of him,” Gail said. “Anyway, you should be happy. It got your boyfriend off the hook.”

“Why was he on the hook in the first place?” Libby asked her.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Gail blurted out.

“Oh. So you had something to do with the other thing?” Bernie asked.

“That's not what I meant,” Gail spluttered.

“Then what did you mean?” Libby inquired.

At that point, Juno turned to Gail. “Just don't say anything.”

“I'm not,” Gail said.

“Good,” Juno answered.

“Not that it matters,” Gail told her. “I don't think they know anything, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think we do,” Bernie told her.

Juno folded her arms across her chest. “Then tell us,” she challenged.

“That's what I'm trying to do,” Libby said.

“Go on,” Gail goaded.

“Okay. This is what happened. You were both pissed off at Jack Devlin for his generally piggish behavior. That brought you together and you got to talking about revenge. How could you get back at him? That was the question because he certainly deserved it. Then you had an idea. The reenactment was coming up and you saw it as a God-given opportunity to kill him and make it look like an accident. That was plan number one.”

Libby turned to Gail. “But what if that didn't work? What if the police decided it was murder? Then what? You decided to let your husband take the fall.”

“And why would I do that?” Gail asked.

“Because you really don't like him. Despite what you told me, he's a pretty jealous guy and the whole open marriage thing wasn't working out so well for you.”

“That's not true,” Gail said.

Bernie took a sip of champagne. “It must have been hard being married to someone like that. Someone who follows your every move.” She gestured to Juno. “That's another thing you two have in common.”

Gail blinked. “Rick's a control freak, but there are worse things to be.”

“I bet he always wanted to watch,” Bernie hypothesized.

Gail gasped. “Who told you that?”

“No one,” Bernie said.

“Then how do you know?”

Bernie took another sip of her champagne. “An educated guess. It's kind of like having your cake and eating it, too.”

Gail shuddered. “It gave me the willies.”

“I can imagine. He didn't approve of your going it alone with Devlin, did he?”

Gail didn't say anything.

“So killing Devlin was an efficient way to take care of both problems,” Bernie observed. “A two for one shot, if you'll pardon the bad pun.”

“Would you like to hear how you went about it?” Libby asked.

Juno cocked her head. She'd regained her composure. “By all means. I'm fascinated.”

“With pleasure. Either you or Gail got a musket from the gun club.”

“How did we do that?” Gail demanded. “They're under lock and key and would be missed.”

“Simple,” Libby said. In the interval between speaking to Clyde and arriving at Juno's, she had rethought her idea and made a few phone calls. “First, you went to the costume store, rented another musket, and substituted it for a real gun at the gun club. Then you took one of the muskets from the shed and swapped it out for the real gun.”

“Wouldn't someone at the club have noticed?” Gail asked.

“Not unless a guest came by and tried to use it,” Bernie answered. “The chances of that were pretty slim because the club doesn't get many guests. Granted, it was a chance, but it was a chance you were prepared to take.”

“And then what?” Juno asked Libby.

“That's where you came into play,” Libby told her. “The big question was how to get Devlin to take the musket. That's the question that's been bothering me, but you had it figured out.”

“And how did I do that?” Juno taunted. “Magic?”

“Suggestion. It was ingenious really. You spoke to Devlin and warned him that someone was out to get him, probably Elise Montague.”

Juno flinched and Libby knew she'd gotten it right.

“But you reassured him and told him not to worry, that you'd take care of everything. You'd mark the musket so he'd know which one was safe.”

“Is that it?” Juno asked.

“No. There's more,” Libby said. “You got to thinking. How were you going to make sure he got it? The only way that you could see was if you handed it to him yourself. But you were supposed to be up in the rose garden. Then you had another idea. You and Gail would switch places. No one outside the circle would know. To anyone in the distance, all people wearing fairy wings would look pretty much the same.”

She turned back to Gail. “You should have gotten rid of those wings in the back of the Infinity or at least covered them up all the way. In any case, Juno came down and handed Devlin the real musket from the gun club. She then hid the prop left over after Marvin had set the muskets on the bench. I'm guessing it was in a bag that she had put in a trash can by the shed. When everyone was gone, she got it and put it up in the rafters, after which she went back to the rose garden and you and Juno switched places again. You went home and she waited for Devlin's gun to go off.”

“Are you done?” Juno asked.

“Pretty much,” Libby said. “Did I cover everything? Is there anything else you want to add?”

“Not really,” Juno said. “This whole scheme seems pretty elaborate to me. Why did Gail and I do this together?”

Bernie jumped in with the answer. “Because this way, you supplied each other with alibis.” She looked at Juno and Gail. “So do we have it right?”

Gail favored Libby with a
how-stupid-are-you
look. “I didn't set Rick up. Not at all. But once he realized what had happened, he tried to deflect the blame onto Marvin and when that wasn't working, he copped to it. The whole thing was his decision, not mine. He loves me. He'll do anything for me.”

“I guess that makes him stupid, considering how you feel about him,” Bernie observed.

“I guess it does.” Gail had a smug smile on her face.

Juno's eyes narrowed. “Will you shut up,” she hissed at Gail.

“No. You shut up,” Gail snapped back. “Don't you get it? It doesn't matter what we say. There is no proof.”

“We have the rifle,” Bernie pointed out.

“So what,” Gail said. “We wiped it clean.”

Juno dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “I can't believe you said that.”

“Neither can I,” Rick said as he stepped through the gate with Clyde close behind him.

“You told me Devlin had raped you,” Rick said, advancing on Gail. “That's why I did what I did.”

Bernie looked at Gail. All the color had drained from her face.

“He d-did,” Gail stammered. “I s-swear it.”

“You've been lying to me all this time,” Rick snarled. “I can't believe that you were the one who turned me in to the police.”

“No. No, I haven't. I swear.” Gail was breathing fast.

Rick balled up his fists and took another step closer. “You had me cover for you. You had me shoot at poor Marvin. You had me almost put Marvin in jail.”

Gail shook her head. “He's crazy,” she said to Clyde. “He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

“I loved you.” A small trickle of spit ran down Rick's chin. “I would have done anything for you. Anything.”