Murder on the Bucket List (9 page)

twelve

The meeting of the
Summer Ridge Bridge Club moved from the library to the dining room table, where Francine had to stack randomly scattered mystery novels to clear enough room to cut the cake. “Research,” Charlotte told her, though Francine thought it was just an excuse; the table always looked that way. Charlotte made coffee. When everyone had their plates and cups, the five women took their seats at the round table just big enough for four.

Charlotte didn't let too much cake disappear before she spoke up. “We need to get this underway before anyone lapses into a chocolate stupor.” She unfolded a map of the neighborhood on the table and forced the women to move their food. “You'll all recognize this as our Summer Ridge subdivision.”

The map was an old one from when the subdivision was in the development phase. The semicircular Summer Ridge Drive, which bounded most of the subdivision, was the dominant feature. The smaller Trail Ridge Court, where Charlotte lived, ran beside the southern section of Summer Ridge. Charlotte had scribbled all over the map in red ink. “I've noted on each lot the name of the family who lives there,” she said, pointing to the map, “and if the house is being rented, who the owner is.”

“What's the
blue circle mean?” Francine asked.

“It means Toby recorded that person as having come to check out the crime scene.”

Francine smoothed out one side of the map that was trying to curl. Charlotte placed her empty cake plate on the corner to hold it down. “Remember my observation that the killer always returns to the scene of the crime. The thirty-eight names you see circled constitute our best set of suspects.”

Mary Ruth looked at Charlotte over her reading glasses. “Your
observation
?”

Francine put up a hand. “I don't want us to quibble about this. Yes, Charlotte has
not
had a lot of experience. But she did solve her uncle's murder
and
she reads a lot of mysteries. Whatever her plan is, it's as good as any we have right now. Besides, it makes sense that the killer could have come back to see what, if anything, the police found. He would naturally be curious. With the police scrambling to find clues and a motive, a killer would feel safe returning as a part of an organized tour.”

“However unsettling, wouldn't it be exciting if it were someone in our neighborhood?” Joy said.

Charlotte pointed to Larry and Alice's house, which was on the corner where Summer Ridge Drive turned west. “I've been over the logic before, but maybe it's better if we all see it. Here's where Larry and Alice live. If it was someone from outside the subdivision, why not plant the body in a house closer to the entrance? Or better yet, why not drop it in a field on the way out toward Pittsboro?” She moved her hand well off the map in a westerly direction. “Who's going to find it until fall? One possible reason would be because they needed to put the body somewhere quickly and the shed was not likely to be used for a while. But that says two things: one, it was someone who lived in the neighborhood; and two, it was someone who knew Larry and Alice didn't use the pool much. Am I not right on this?”

There was a general murmur of agreement.

“But,” Francine said, “it could also be premeditated, that the killer wanted to frame Larry, which would also explain the choice of the shed. That would mean that they knew Larry was renting the garage to Friederich, and that he'd threatened to throw Friederich out.”

“I don't know that it means they live in our neighborhood,” Mary Ruth said. “Lots of people know Larry, especially since he's so active in the community. And if the purpose is to frame him, they could have come from anywhere.”

“Good point. But it still doesn't account for their knowledge of the pool shed, which any neighbor would know about but a casual observer wouldn't because of the privacy fence. So, it would have to be someone who knew Larry and Alice well enough that they had been invited to the house and knew about the shed.” She turned to Charlotte. “You said you had a plan?”

“Wait a minute,” Joy said. “I don't mean to complicate things, but what if the killer had help? I mean, it could be someone
inside
the neighborhood helping someone
outside
.”

Charlotte blew out a breath. “Well, that would complicate matters. We'll just have to keep alert to that possibility as we unravel the mystery thread by thread. Here's what we know: In addition to reneging on the agreement he had with Larry, Friederich also was recently blasted in public by Jake Maehler, the midget driver.”

“I keep telling you, he races midget cars,” Mary Ruth said. “He's not a midget.”

Francine choked back a laugh. Someone snickered.

Charlotte glared at her. “Okay! Point taken. Maybe you'd like to tell the rest of the story?”

“Well, I know racing a little better than you, but go ahead.”

Charlotte bristled but continued. “Jake and Friederich had a long history. Friederich took Jake from a competitive fifteen-year-old racer to a big name in midget car racing, which then earned Jake a NASCAR development contract. Except that he hasn't been doing so well there. So he hooked up with Friederich again to help him get back to his winning ways. Then the midget car Friederich built for him had issues on the final laps of the Night Before the 500 race, and Jake went from first to fifth. Jake was really PO'd. Financially, he needs to be seen as a winner to keep his sponsors happy and to stay on the NASCAR circuit. Publicly, they made up. Friederich was supposedly rebuilding the car for him to race at SpeedFest. But there may still have been a lot of tension between them.” She took a breath. “We need more inside information. Francine,
you know Crystal the Pistol?”

“Yes, but how is that important?”

“Crystal's son is Jake's personal trainer. The papers said Jake and his trainer are pretty tight. So he probably knows something. We need for you to get to Jake's trainer.”

Francine frowned. “Through his mom?”

“It's the best we have. And don't you go to the same gym Jake does?”

“When he's in town. I've seen him
maybe
a couple of times. I have no idea when he works out.”

“Crystal might. Or she can find out.”

“I don't know about this, Charlotte. Even if I can get to him, the trainer may not talk to me.”

“Sure, he will. People love to show off how much they know. Especially when it comes to the famous—or in this case, nearly famous. It's all in how you approach him.”

Francine grumbled, but she knew how Charlotte could get. “I'll try.”

“That's the spirit. Now, another thing we need is to figure out is who in the neighborhood has a connection to Friederich, other than Larry. Any ideas?”

Francine collected the empty dishes that weren't holding down the map and took them into the kitchen. She already had one more assignment than she wanted. She knew if she waited them out, someone would come up with an idea. No one in the group could go very long without talking.

Mary Ruth spoke first. “This is kind of self-serving, but hear me out. Brownsburg has a lot of people working in the motor sports business now that Eaglepoint business park is attracting racing-related companies from all over the country. A number of people in our subdivision work in the racing business or are connected to people in the racing business. I think it's possible any of them could have known Friederich in some way.”

Joy picked up Toby's list. “There are thirty-eight names on this list from the neighborhood. You want us to ask each of them if they knew Friederich?”

“Well, actually, yes. These racing companies have money. They hire caterers to handle their parties and serve them food at Lucas Oil Raceway. I'd like to capture some of that business for myself. Perhaps if we invited neighbors to a luncheon that featured my food but was themed around neighborhood security, we could use it to gather information about the neighbors and who might have known Friederich—”

Charlotte snatched the list. “That's brilliant, Mary Ruth. Most of these people want to gossip about the murder, or else they wouldn't have been at Alice's house for the tour. We'd get good attendance on just the hint that the murder would be talked about. If they were able to come in the middle of the day to see the murder scene, they'd probably be available for lunch.”

“The problem is where to have it. I can't accommodate that many people at my house.”

Charlotte's face swung toward Alice.

“Oh, no, not my house. We've had enough going on there.”

“Then we'll do it at Francine's.”

Francine had the deer-in-the-headlights look. “My house?”

“Next to Alice, you have the biggest house. Plus, you've got experience. You've hosted lots of Sunday school parties with that many people. We'll just expand onto the deck if we have to.”

“I'm not sure we can throw it together that fast.”

“Sure we can.” Mary Ruth peeled a sticky note off a stash Charlotte kept in the kitchen and began to write on it. “Today is Monday. We can have the luncheon on Wednesday. If I fax in an order tonight, my supplier can deliver food tomorrow. We won't get the full thirty-eight neighbors, but I'll bet we get twenty-five. That's a high percentage.”

“I don't know if I can get the house clean in time.”

“Oh, please, Francine,” Charlotte said, interrupting. “Dust bunnies are an endangered species at your house. It would pass a Board of Health inspection on an hour's notice.”

“That's not true. And Jonathan—”

“Jonathan will grump about it, but in the end he'll do what you ask. He doesn't even have to be there if he doesn't want. He can hide out at work.”

“Well …”

“Can we all agree we'll help Francine put this on?” Charlotte held up her hand like she was asking for volunteers.

The others were extraordinarily agreeable since it wasn't at
their
house.

“See?” she said. “We'll all help. Just make sure Jonathan knows who's catering. He'll be okay with it.”

“To make this legitimate, someone should invite the police to talk about a neighborhood crime watch program,” Francine said. The women nodded in agreement. “I nominate Charlotte to contact them.”

“Good idea,” said Alice. “She's always calling them anyway.”

“That's not true …”

“I have a question for you, Alice,” Joy said.

“What is it?”

“Who would know Larry had rented that garage to Friederich? It didn't seem to be general knowledge. If I understand correctly, the police didn't know until Larry told them.”

“Good point. I'm not sure how many people even knew we
owned
that building. We bought it ten years ago as an investment, but no one seemed interested in renting it. Larry finally had to close it up to stop the minor vandalism. I guess he took the For Rent sign down when Friederich leased the building, but I'm not sure anyone noticed. I didn't.”

“Neither did I,” said Charlotte, “and I must cut through there fifteen times a day to avoid the stoplight at the corner. That's a great observation. Larry was being secretive. How would someone find out who owned the property and who had rented it?”

“What are you two getting at?” Francine asked.

“Think about it. If Larry is being framed, then either the person who killed Friederich knew him well enough to ask him who he rented the garage from, or that person had to dig out the information. If they did, then how did they do it? They would have left some kind of trail, wouldn't they?”

“Isn't Larry active in the Chamber of Commerce? Would someone there know what rental properties he had available?”

“So someone could have asked at the Chamber,” Charlotte said. “Joy, you're the reporter. Could you find out if anyone did, and if so, who it was?”

“Okay, but not until after we do the
GMA
appearance tomorrow. And you all will be there, won't you?”

Mary Ruth looked horror-stricken. “I don't have to say anything, right? I mean, you promised …”

“I walked through this with the producer this afternoon, and I think I may be the only one talking.”

Mary Ruth still seemed hesitant.

“It's all good,” Joy assured her.

“I guess,” she said.

“Don't forget now! We need to be there by seven a.m.”

“At least we'll get it over early,” said Mary Ruth. “I can get back to my kitchen and work on the luncheon in peace.”

Francine hoped for all of their sakes it would go like that. But ever since Friederich's body fell out of the shed, nothing had been quite like she'd expected.

thirteen

Francine and Charlotte arrived
at Alice's house at exactly the same time the next morning, ten before seven. Charlotte seemed to be much more excited than Francine. “Do you think we'll get to see that handsome George
Stephanopoulos
?” she asked.

Francine rang the doorbell. “Not in Brownsburg, Charlotte. He'll just be a face on this little television monitor like you see him every morning.”

“Of course I know George won't be here in person. I meant, do you think we'll get to talk to him?”

“Not likely. I think Joy will do all the talking. Good thing, as far as I'm concerned. I don't even want to be seen. I'm only doing this for Joy.”

“We're
all
only doing this for Joy.” Charlotte stepped back and regarded Francine. “You shouldn't have worn that yellow sundress if you didn't want to be noticed. You look smashing in it.”

“Thanks. I wonder what's taking Alice so long to answer the door.” She rang the doorbell again and this time added a knock.

“They say the camera adds ten pounds. I wore a girdle under this to counteract that. It's pretty tight.”

Francine took a critical look at Charlotte. She was wearing a white dress with red and blue polka dots on it. She'd seen it on her before, but now it hung more loosely on her frame. “How tight did you make that girdle?”

Charlotte bit her lip. “I don't look good?”

“No, you look fine. The dress fits well. I only worry because …” Francine contemplated how to tell her the girdle was so tight she was afraid either Charlotte would pass out or the girdle would give out. Both would make for bad TV. Before she said anything, the door opened and Joy stood there. She was wearing the same sundress as Francine, only in a lime green pattern.

Joy's eyes narrowed on Francine's dress. “I worried this might happen. We shop at too many of the same places. Fortunately I brought a change of outfits.” She spun on the ball of her foot and marched into the foyer. Francine followed with Charlotte behind her.

“It'll be fine,” Francine said. She glanced around. “Where's Alice? How is she doing this morning? Is Larry …? Did he …?”

Joy pulled them closely together. “He came home last night. They had words, and he slept in the blue bedroom. That's all Alice would tell me. He left early this morning because he didn't want to run into Jud or any reporters.”

Charlotte said, “Jud? I didn't know he was coming.”

She shrugged. “Coming? He's already here. He showed up on the half hour and chased away everyone but the camera crew.”

Francine looked at her watch. “Who else was here this early in the morning?”

“The curious and the paparazzi. They're still here, just moved down the street. You can see them camped out on Darla's second story balcony with binoculars and cameras with long-range lenses.”

“Wow,” said Charlotte. “After yesterday, I would think Darla would be angry, not helping them.”

“Could be she's charging them.”

Someone coughed. Francine looked up to see a tall balding man. He coughed again. She wondered if he was trying to get their attention or if he just coughed a lot.

“There you are,” he said to Joy. He indicated Francine and Charlotte. “Are they part of your Bridge Club?”

Joy introduced them. “I'm the assistant producer,” he said. He looked from Francine to Joy. “Same dress.”

“A little snafu,” Joy said. “We should have talked about outfits. But I brought a backup.”

“Good. Go change now. We need to mike you and run some checks.”

“I didn't think we were on for an hour and a half.”

“Don't mess this up for me, okay? I don't get to work with the national morning shows that much.”

“I'll get on it.” Joy marched up the stairs.

“You two, let's get you out by the pool. I was told there would be three of you. Where's the other one?

Francine disliked the way he put his hand on her back and moved her along. “Her name is Mary Ruth, and I'm sure she'll be here soon.”

“If not, you'll need to call her.” He ushered them through the family room and out the back French doors into the pool area.

Jud had squatted down outside the pool shed where Friederich's body had flopped out. He had a roll of yellow tape in his hands.

Charlotte waved at him. “Jud!”

He looked up for a moment, then returned to taping.

“Well, how do you like that?” Charlotte said. “He's ignoring us. He's a public servant. He can't do that.”

“Keep away from him,” the associate produced warned. “We need him to re-create the crime scene.”

“I thought this was all about the Bridge Club.”

“This is a multifaceted story.” He looked at his watch. “Where's Joy? I need her here.”

Francine was growing tired of his self-important edicts. “You ordered her to change.”

“So I did.” He broke into a coughing fit. “Go check on her, will you?” He turned away and went to talk to the cameraman.

“Yeah. Go check on her,” Charlotte said, mocking.

“Did he give us his name?”

“No.”

“I may start referring to him by the first three letters in ‘assistant producer'.”

“I'm with you.”

Joy came out of house at that moment in a khaki skirt with a light blue polo shirt. She joined them.

“That looks better on you,” said Charlotte. “You look more ESPN.”

“You think so?”

“That's the kind of thing you would see on trackside reporters at car races.”

“I hadn't thought of that. I wonder what their pool crews wear when they cover big swim meets?”

The assistant producer whistled at them and motioned them over. Francine and Joy obeyed but Charlotte hung behind. She turned and started for Jud, but the tight girdle made it difficult to move. Francine heard her cane thunking on the concrete and changed directions herself.

The two reached Jud at the same time. “I thought they only wanted to talk to us skinny-dipping grandmas,” Charlotte said.

He continued taping the head of the body's outline. “I was invited. They apparently also want the police perspective on what we're doing to solve the crime.”

“So what do you have on Larry?”

“I haven't said anything about anyone.”

“You hauled Larry out of a hotel room on the east side and brought him to the police station for questioning. You must have something on him.”

“I'm not going to respond to that.” He stood up, stretched, and noticed Charlotte's dress. “Have you lost a lot of weight recently?” He sounded concerned.

“It's the dress,” Francine said. “Doesn't it look nice?”

He nodded in agreement, but his eyes still held doubt. “Don't you have something to do over there?” He motioned toward the assistant producer.

Francine coaxed Charlotte around and headed her in that direction. “Indeed we do. The ASSistant producer is going to have a heart attack if we don't get over there.”

Jud chuckled at her thinly veiled assessment.

Charlotte looked like she was about to resist when Marcy hustled over. Francine hadn't seen her that morning, but from the wetness of Marcy's espadrilles, she guessed the publicist had been in somebody's grass. “What are you two doing?” she asked, waving her hand frantically to emphasize her displeasure. “Are you deliberating trying to sabotage our shot at morning TV? This is the keystone in my PR plan. No
Good Morning America
, and we might as well kiss the spread in
People
magazine good-bye.”

“You've got us in
People
?” Charlotte's jaw practically dropped.

“Got them considering it. I'm telling you, we just need this one domino to fall and there's really no stopping the media coverage. But this has got to work.”

“Sabotage is certainly tempting,” Francine said dryly. “But it means too much to Joy.”

Marcy frowned at her. “Let's get back over to the pool area. Kurt is about to go over the details of the shoot.” She swept a lock of unruly hair back from her forehead.

Francine looked at her watch. “But it's not even seven thirty yet.”

“They need you to be ready to go at eight. They've notified us the segment could come anytime after that. It's a slow news morning. Could work out really well for us.”

While Marcy urged them along, Francine saw Darla waving from the second story balcony of her home, which rose above the privacy fence. “Knock 'em dead!” she shouted in encouragement.

“That woman,” said Marcy, “is dangerous.”

“Only if you break a homeowners' covenant,” Charlotte said. “Otherwise she's just annoying.”

“No, she and the paparazzi are a wild card. They need to back off until after we've filmed.” Marcy smiled a fake smile and waved at the crowd on Darla's balcony. “Just remember what we talked about,” she yelled at them.

Catcalls ensued.

“Keep walking and don't look at them.”

Joy was snaking a tiny microphone through the front of her polo shirt. The cord was connected to a small transmitter attached to the back of her skirt. “Testing, testing,” she said. The cameraman, wearing a headset, nodded.

“Where's Mary Ruth?” Charlotte asked her.

“Don't know. Alice went in to call her. If she doesn't get here soon, we may have to go on without her.”

The assistant producer, who Marcy had called Kurt, motioned the women toward the deep end of the pool. They grumbled among themselves.

“Ladies!” he said. “Please be quiet! I want to see all of your eyes looking at me so I know you're listening.” The effort of this speech made him cough.

Charlotte groused. “I feel like I'm in second grade.”

“Then stop acting like a seven-year-old,” Marcy said, giving her a sharp elbow in the side. She felt the tautness of the girdle. “What do you have under your dress?”

Kurt glared at them. “This is the monitor where you'll see the feed from New York.” He pointed to a television screen they'd set up. “You won't be able to hear anything, because we don't want feedback. Joy will be your spokesperson. She's equipped with an earpiece so she can hear the anchors and a microphone to respond to them. It would complicate the interview if we miked all of you.

Marcy put on a sunny smile. “Joy will do a fantastic job.”

Francine wondered how much the publicist was being paid.

“But I wanted to talk to
George
Stephanopoulos
,” Charlotte said.

“That's not possible,” Kurt responded.

Mary Ruth came out of the sliding glass doors to the house and rushed over to join the women. The people on Darla's balcony started hooting.

“It's about time you got here,” Kurt said.

“I've changed clothes a hundred times. I finally decided to wear black because it's supposed to be slimming on television.” She made a twirl to show her black pants and black polo shirt.

The crowd on the balcony continued to be annoying. Marcy motioned for them to calm down.

Kurt tried to keep everyone on task. “You, in the yellow sundress.” He pointed at Francine. “Come up here next to Joy.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“It's because no one in America wants to imagine the rest of us skinny-dipping,” Mary Ruth said out loud. “Only you and Joy.”

That made Kurt laugh, and he coughed again. He finally cleared his throat. “I want our police detective here,” he said, moving to a spot near the shed. “Where's our detective?”

“He's in the house, talking with the lawyer,” said Mary Ruth.

“When did he go in there? Has he finished taping the spot where the body fell?”

“I meant to say something about that,” Charlotte said. “I don't think that's the right spot. It was closer to the shed.”

Francine agreed, but she was pretty sure it was irrelevant for the purposes of the morning show.

“You,” the assistant producer said, pointing this time at Marcy, “go get him. You're not in this shot anyway.” He tapped his foot until Marcy had retrieved Jud from the house. She pushed him along.

“Over here,” Kurt said. “By the crime scene.”

Jud moved to the spot where he was pointing. Marcy followed closely behind.

“We need to mike you,” Kurt told Jud. “You'll get asked a few questions about the case, after George and Robin have interviewed the ladies. The segment wraps up with you, but we'll pull back to a shot of the women before we end. Ladies, I want you to do something like wave. Remember, you're having fun here! You're on television.”

Jud folded his arms over his chest. “Fun? They uncovered a murder!”

“Listen, pal. It isn't every day a group of senior citizens finds a body that didn't die of natural causes. Phone calls to the station were overwhelmingly positive when
GMA
ran our promos. Viewers were excited.”

“Murder is not exciting.”

“Sure it is. The overnight polls showed the vast majority of America wished
they'd
been the ones who went skinny-dipping and found the body.”

Jud shook his head.

Kurt coughed into his hand. “Look, you don't have to pretend it's fun. You can be the serious one. Just don't be too much of a downer.” He told one of his assistants to get Jud a mike and an earpiece.

Charlotte burped loudly. “Excuse me,” she said. Then she burped again. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have had that frozen waffle.”

Francine was alarmed. “You ate?”

“I was hungry.”