Death Among the Doilies (23 page)

Cora was drifting. Sounds were imprinted on her mind. The thud of the gun in the sink. The woman's groan and shriek as Cora let loose on her. The crack of her knee against the woman's head.

“Her name is Dee Waters,” Detective Brodsky said to a uniformed officer standing nearby. The place was crawling with them.

Dee Waters? Why did that name sound familiar? Then she remembered—Dee was the name of the Waterses' oldest daughter. The one who became a mother when she was very young. Her parents sent her away. But she was supposed to be off somewhere in England.

“She's used a couple of different names over the years,” the officer told Brodsky. “Quite the expert identity thief.”

“I've got you some ice from one of the cops,” Jude said, now in her view. He placed the ice bag on her knee.

She sucked in air. Her knee swelled in reaction to the sudden cold.

“What happened?” she managed to ask.

Jude sat down on the floor next to her. “I'm not sure,” he said. “What I do know is that I found Dee or Ivy's phone number and called her, thinking I'd bring her to the cops.”

“You did what?” Cora refrained from smacking him.

“I thought it was the least I could do after causing all this trouble. I really like you and what you're doing. I didn't mean for all this to happen. So I thought I'd make it up to you by, you know, using myself as bait to lure her to town.”

Cora felt like a wet dishrag. She was so tired. Her knee was throbbing. And Jude Sawyer, the rock-star broom maker turned out to not be smart—at all. But, as his story rolled around in her mind, she realized that he had the best of intentions.

“And?”

“The plan was going well until she got this phone call this morning from some lawyer, then she almost, like, I don't know, turned into another person,” he said. “The next thing I know, she pulls out this gun. She doesn't shoot me with it. But she hit me. And I woke up here. The rest is history.”

“When did Darla get here?”

“I don't know,” he said. “I don't even know where we are right now.”

“This is Darla's house,” Cora said.

“It is?” He looked around. “But there's nothing here. Are you certain?”

“I'm not certain of anything,” Cora said.

“I'm certain of one thing,” Brodsky said, inserting himself into their conversation. “You just don't know when to leave well enough alone. What were you doing here?”

She didn't respond.

“Never mind, I know what you were doing here,” the detective continued. “I told you she wouldn't have talked with you anyway,” he said. “We've got to get her out of here.”

“Why? I want to press charges,” Cora said. “How dare she? She owes me an explanation.”

“Here's your explanation—she is planning on moving far away, going off the grid so she can start a new life. Her mother over there”—he pointed his head toward Dee Waters, aka Ivy—“is involved in one of the biggest crime syndicates in the United States. The woman you know as Darla was getting ready to start a whole new life in a new state with a new name. We think it's a good idea. When she saw her long-lost mother at the retreat, she kind of freaked out.”

Cora was speechless. The reason for Darla's behavior had finally become clear. She either knew or suspected that her own mother had killed her grandmother, and then her grandfather as well. Which probably scared her half to death. How far would a daughter go to protect her wayward mother? When Darla saw that there was a scapegoat, she latched on to it. Jane was perfect, thanks to the confusion over her fingerprints and her record.

“So did Dee kill her mom and dad?” Jude said.

The detective's face was grim. “It most certainly looks that way. Plus she's a wanted woman for several crimes, especially identify theft. We are now certain that she also stole her mother's jeweled opium kit collection. Dee had Darla when she was fifteen years old and the family shunned her. They sent her away. The story is pretty typical from that point on. Typical in some ways, I should say. Darla tried hard to break free of the situation. She almost succeeded.”

Cora's heart went from pounding anger to breaking in half in a second. What had happened to the Waters family? What went wrong? Was Dee born with problems—or was it the drugs she had gotten involved with as a kid? Could drug addiction spiral like this and years later lead to her killing both of her parents, not to mention placing her own daughter so much at risk that she wanted to go into hiding?

What a mess. What a confounding, heartbreaking mess.

“So why did Darla come here to Indigo Gap?” Jude asked.

“She came here to get to know her grandmother. Her mother found out, and didn't like it, obviously,” Brodsky replied. “Dee has been in and out of town since she found out, evidently.”

“Is that enough of a motive for murder?” Cora asked. “I mean, that she didn't want her daughter to know her grandmother?”

“That, the money, and the fact that Dee resented her parents for sending her and her new baby as far away from home as possible,” Brodsky said.

“But she was going to all this trouble to lead us away from her grandmother's true killer . . . I'm confused,” Jude said.

“Because the killer was her mother,” Cora said. “Her
mother
.”

Cora's eyes sought the woman she knew as Darla. She was holding her mother and crying. The woman, with her addictions and her litany of criminal activities, pulled back from her daughter, brushed the hair from her face with a gentle, motherly sweep of her fingers, then cupped Darla's face in her hands. In that moment, she was nothing more or less than a mother. And, perhaps, a daughter.

“The party doesn't start for several more hours. Why are you calling me?” Cora said into her phone.

“Since it appears that you're still alive, you better get your ass home before Beatrice takes over completely,” Jane said. “So where are you, anyway? Is Jude with you, by any chance?”

“Yes,” Cora said. “He's with me. As for the rest, you are not going to believe it.” Cora then explained what had happened.

“You're right. I don't believe it,” Jane said. “Darla Day's not Darla Day. She's the daughter of the Waterses' long-lost daughter, who was supposed to be in England. But, instead, she's been skulking around here posing as Ivy Renquist, stealing a priceless jeweled opium kit, and killing her parents. What's believable about that?” Jane spouted.

“Well, if you don't believe me, you can ask Jude,” Cora said. “We'll both be home soon—after the medics say we're okay.”

“Cora?”

“Yes?”

“Does this mean I'm officially no longer a suspect?”

“I suppose it does,” Cora said. “They can probably send the fingerprint experts home.”

“Thank God for that,” Jane said.

“I'll see you soon,” Cora said.

Later, as she and Jude walked back to Kildare House, he grabbed her by the hand. “Thanks for putting up with me this weekend,” he said. “I'm so sorry for everything.”

He was the charming Jude Sawyer again. But he was also still the same man who had slept with Ivy
and
Linda. Was it within twenty-four hours of one another? Cora didn't want to know. That was a mystery she'd leave unsolved.

“Apology accepted,” she said and withdrew her hand from his.
As long as I don't ever have to see you again, I'll be fine,
she thought but didn't say.

“That was pretty amazing what you did back there,” he said.

It was pretty amazing,
Cora thought. She hadn't panicked. After the incident, she fell apart, but during it, she did fine. Even Detective Brodsky had been impressed.

Crafty girl to the rescue,
he had said and winked at her.

But this was not what Cora had bargained for—at all. She wanted a peaceful small-town life. She had wanted to start fresh with her craft retreat. This felt too much like her old life, when she never knew when a disgruntled husband would come into the Sunny Street Shelter, or when a teenager would lash out. She sighed. She supposed that no matter where she lived or what she did, unpleasant incidents would occur. But perhaps there would be less now. She was deep in thought when Jude broke into it.

“Is there any way you and I can, uh, put this behind us and maybe go out? I'm very attracted to you.”

She pretended not to hear him and kept walking.

“Cora?” he said, trailing after her.

“You are a beautiful, charming, drama man and I'm sure we'll run into each other again at some craft gathering. But I don't need drama in my life,” she said. “No thanks.”

“I guess I saw that coming,” he said and laughed. “But you can't blame a guy for trying.”

She was a bit surprised by his asking her out—but then again, he liked women, period. She was surprised, however, that he had yet to hit on Jane.

They shuffled along the rest of the way in silence. Kildare House stood like a beacon in the near distance. Cora wanted nothing more than a long bath and a nap. But she lacked time.

“Has it only been a few hours?” Jude asked. “I am exhausted. It feels like we've been working out all day long or something.”

“Yes, it really does. I was thinking I'd like to take a nap but—”

“There you two are!” Suddenly Ruby and Beatrice were beside them. “I was just showing Bea around the neighborhood a bit.”

“What happened to you?” Bea said, looking askance at Cora.

“And you?” Ruby said to Jude.

Cora's awareness switched to wondering about her condition and what the others saw when she approached them—her skirt had been torn and a button was missing from her shirt. Jude looked as if he had been hit by a truck. He was a good-looking guy and usually well put together, but now his skin was chaffed and red where the duct tape had been. And he wore an expression of utter confusion.

“You look like you've both seen a ghost,” Bea said.

“Not a ghost,” Cora said, and then she filled them in as they walked back to the house.

“Shocking!” Beatrice said when Cora was done.

Ruby shook her head. “That family has had its share of troubles, but I never imagined this.”

“Who could?” Beatrice added.

Jude put his arm around Cora and drew her in for a friendly hug. “All I know is that this woman saved my life.”

When Jane spotted Jude, Beatrice, Ruby, and Cora standing at the edge of the sidewalk, she ushered them into her carriage house.

“We've got a lot of work for the party, I realize,” Jane said. “But let's just take a minute here and make sure we are all on the same page.”

Cora was pale and her hair mussed, as was Jude's. They both looked at Jane with weariness.

“I just want to see if I understand it all,” Jane said. “I need to know the facts.”

“Okay,” Cora said. She looked like she might fall over any minute.

“Please sit down,” Jane said to her and led her over to the red velvet couch.

“Now, did I hear you say that Jude used himself for bait?” Jane said. “He thought he could get Dee Waters to confess to stealing Sarah's opium kit collection. Is that right?”

Jude nodded and rocked back and forth on his feet, in a comforting, slow rhythm.

“Yes,” Beatrice chimed in. “But Dee Waters is who you all knew as Ivy. She was using a false identity.”

“And Darla?” Jane asked, opening her hands, looking for answers.

“Darla saw her criminal of a mother at the retreat. That's why she was so upset and why she tried her best to make you look guilty. She suspected her mother of killing her grandmother and was trying to protect her,” Ruby said.

“Lawd,” said Beatrice. “All this talk of killing mothers. I need to sit down.”

She found a chair and plopped into it. Then, Ruby sat on the edge of the chair next to Beatrice.

“Are we sure that Dee stole those goods from her mother a few months back?” Jane asked.

“Yes,” Jude replied. “They are searching her house now, but it's just a matter of time before they have the items in their hands. The police know she was in town at that time. She evidently travels back and forth between here and Edisto frequently. We're pretty certain that she killed both of her parents.” He said this with emphasis, clearly horrified.

“Dee was upset that her mother had a relationship with Darla, who didn't want anything to do with Dee,” Cora added.

“So Sarah's murder was an act of passion?” Jane asked. All the pieces were starting to fit together. It was confusing, but she was beginning to understand.

“Indeed,” Cora said, swaying a bit. She looked as if she needed a nap. “When she was in town to steal the opium kits, she realized that Darla was here and knew her mother.”

“What about the fingers scattered all over the house? What meaning does that have?” Jane asked.

“None that we know of,” Cora said. “I mean, we just don't know.”

Jane thought about that and realized she wasn't certain she actually wanted that answer.

“What about Josh?” Jane asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“He probably was putting it together,” Jude said. “He probably knew what happened and she had to get rid of him. Plus, with him gone, there would be nobody around to contest her inheritance.”

“Now that I think about it, her sister most likely would've been next,” Ruby said in a hushed voice.

“That's a gruesome thought,” Bea said. “But it's probably the truth. What's wrong with people?”

“I've asked myself that question so many times in my life,” Cora said. “Sometimes, people get, I don't know, broken. And they are never able to get fixed. That's the only explanation I can come up with.”

“I've known that family a long time,” said Ruby. “I never knew the extent of the damage. But I think your theory is as good as any.”

“What do we do now?” Jane asked. “Just go on with the party as if none of this horrible stuff has happened?”

The group sat in silence, considering. It seemed odd and insensitive to go on with a party when two of its key members had been through a traumatic event and the community of Indigo Gap had lost two of its citizens.

“We owe it to the people who paid for this retreat to have the party,” Cora said. “I'm bound and determined to throw a hell of a party.”

“I'm with you,” Jude said.

“It's the only thing to do,” Beatrice said, with a soft firmness in her voice. “Life goes on. As it must.”