Scone Cold Dead (13 page)

“I can almost feel sorry for Victor,” Liss said, “but I don't have much sympathy for Emily. In fact, I have to wonder if taking those pills was just a ploy to divert suspicion away from her.”

“Where had she been all this time?” Zara asked. “You said she looked awful when she came through the door at the jail.”

“She hid out in the Wayfarer, Fallstown's
other
motel. It's a real dive.” Sherri glanced at Liss. “There's more, I'm afraid. Remember I said she seemed to be scared of everyone? At one point she seemed to think the entire company had conspired to kill Victor. Then she narrowed it down. She said that Sandy had threatened him. Said he swore to ‘stop' Victor ‘once and for all.' ”

“More paranoia.” But a worried frown creased Zara's forehead.

Sandy just looked puzzled. “I honestly don't remember saying that, but I might well have. Victor got me pretty steamed on more than one occasion.”

“Including during an argument in a parking lot?” Liss asked. “If Emily repeated that claim to Gordon Tandy, I think you'd better level with us before he comes around again.”

Sandy stopped stirring the macaroni and cheese long enough to reach for Zara's hand and squeeze it. “Good intentions will screw you every time. All I was trying to do was avoid repeating what it was that Victor said to make me lose my temper.”

“Something about me?” Zara asked.

“Not just you.” He pulled her into a hug and met Liss's eyes over the top of her head. “He was bragging about how he'd messed up Sarah's job prospects after she left the company. Then he threatened to do the same to Zara and me if we tried to leave. I told him I'd have thought he'd be glad to see us go. Then he said that what he'd really like was for Zara to be ‘nicer' to him and suggested that I should ‘share the goodies.' ”

“And that's when you lost your temper,” Liss said. “Did you threaten to ‘stop' him?”

“If I used that word—and I really don't remember exactly what I said in the heat of anger—it wasn't a death threat. Stewart, Ray, and I were already working on a formal complaint to file with the company backers at the end of the tour. I wasn't vowing to kill Victor. I was planning to get him fired.”

The first thing Dan Ruskin did when he got home was look across the town square to Liss's house. Sherri Willett's truck was just pulling out of the driveway. She saw him and waved as she drove away. Margaret Boyd's station wagon, which Liss drove in Margaret's absence, was parked out front. Lights blazed from both the living room and kitchen windows.

Dan didn't bother going into his own house first to check for phone messages and look at the day's mail. Instead he jogged the short distance between his place and Liss's. This evening he even had a legitimate reason for stopping by.

He opened with that: “Are you going to need more volunteer drivers? My sister was one of the ones you originally had lined up and she's already been called out twice. It wasn't a problem over the weekend, but during the week she has other responsibilities.”

“You offering to take her place?”

“Ah, no. In case you've forgotten, I have to work.”

“So do I. The Emporium will be open tomorrow.” She waved him inside. Zara and Sandy were at the kitchen table, just starting on a meal of macaroni and cheese, red hot dogs, and salad. Liss had opened a bottle of wine. “Join us?”

“I'll pass. Go ahead and eat, though, before the food gets cold.”

He didn't know if Liss had cooked or Zara had, but either way he knew he'd eat better fixing something for himself. If he ended up asking Liss to marry him, it wouldn't be for her domestic skills.

The thought took him by surprise and for a moment he lost the thread of the conversation.

“Maybe it won't be a problem,” Liss said. “Fiona has a rental car now. She can help out. And Sandy and Zara can use the station wagon while I'm at work.”

Dan could almost see the wheels turning as Liss pondered logistics. “Everyone's leaving Tuesday, right?”

“I wish I knew. Fiona has canceled several more performances. She's anxious to cooperate with the police so we can get this settled.”

While she and the others ate, Liss filled Dan in on the reappearance of Emily Townsend, the break-in at Lakeside Cabins, and the state police detective's thwarting of her plan to question the Scone Lady.

“Sounds like the cops don't need your help anymore.”

Liss frowned at him. “You needn't sound so happy about it.”

“Hey, just trying to look on the bright side.” He'd been worried when Pete told him the state police were going to ask Liss to assist them. What Sandy had said about her plans to question everyone herself hadn't thrilled him, either. Now that it looked as if she'd been cut out of the loop, he couldn't honestly say he regretted that turn of events.

When Liss glared at him, Dan had to suppress a grin. Another minute and she'd come up with a scathing comment designed to put him in his place. He was looking forward to deflecting it, but someone knocked at the front door before she could launch the first barb.

“Now what?” Liss grumbled, tossing her napkin on the table and rising with ill-concealed impatience.

Dan followed her down the hall and into the foyer and was standing beside her when she opened the door to admit a man whose almost military bearing screamed “cop.”

“May I come in?”

“I suppose so,” Liss said ungraciously. “Gordon Tandy, this is Dan Ruskin, my neighbor.”

Dan didn't care for that description, but “boyfriend” was even weaker. He stayed close to Liss and studied the state police detective. Dan had an inch or two on him, but they had similar builds. Tandy was older, although it was hard to tell by how much. And there was something about the way he looked at Liss that Dan did not like.

“Ruskin.” Tandy acknowledged the introduction with a nod. He did not offer his hand. “Someone should have talked to you earlier today, about the reception for
Strathspey
.”

“Someone did. A uniformed state trooper stopped by the construction site to ask if I saw anything suspicious. I didn't. It was a very short interview.”

Another nod. Then Tandy turned his attention to Sandy, who had ventured into the hall. Zara stood behind him, almost hidden except for her hands, both of which were clamped, white-knuckled, around the upper part of his right arm.

“I wonder if I might ask you a few more questions, Kalishnakof.”

As soon as they'd disappeared into the library, Zara bit back a little sob. Liss put her arm around the other woman's shoulders.

“What's going on?” Dan asked.

“Sandy had an argument with Victor last week. He threatened him. It didn't mean anything, but I'm afraid Gordon thinks it does.”

She'd left any mention of an argument out of her earlier summary. She'd also been calling the state trooper “Detective Tandy,” not Gordon. Dan frowned. “Do you know that cop from somewhere?”

“Scottish festivals,” Liss said absently, her attention fixed on the closed door to the library. “He and his brother play the bagpipes. Used to, anyway. I wonder what's going on in there.”

In heavy silence, they waited. Finally, the library door opened and the two men emerged. No handcuffs were in evidence.

“That's it for now,” Tandy said to the group in general. “Sorry to have interrupted your evening.”

“I'll walk you out,” Liss said.

Dan heard them exchange a few muffled words at the door, but he barely had time to wonder what they were saying before Liss was back. Her bright smile had faded into an expression that combined panic and frustration.

“Damn, damn, damn!” She stamped her foot for good measure. “I thought I could stay out of it. I
wanted
to. But I can't. Not if Gordon Tandy thinks Sandy killed Victor.”

“Does he?” Dan asked, shifting his attention to the other man.

Sandy shrugged. “He may. He asked me what I did when we first got to Fallstown. I told him. He didn't look like he believed me. And he didn't bother to verify it with Zara.”

“See?” Liss said. “He's made up his mind.
Closed
his mind. That means it's up to us to find someone else without an alibi, someone who had a real reason to want Victor dead.”

The determined look on Liss's face was enough to convince Dan that arguing with her would be pointless. Resigned to the only other option—sticking close to her so he could watch her back—he headed for the kitchen to scrounge for leftovers. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Chapter Eight

A
fter foraging in a drawer for a legal pad and a felt-tip pen, Liss carried both over to the sofa, curled her legs beneath her, and rested the pad on her knees. Writing quickly, she listed twenty-nine names. After a moment's thought, she added “Victor Owens” at the bottom. It wouldn't hurt to know where he had been just before the performance.

“Okay. Alibis.” Liss wrote each one as she enumerated it. “Stewart says he was alone in his motel room. Fiona was napping in her cabin. That's her usual practice,” she added for Dan's benefit. “She likes to be well rested for the performance.”

“Zara and I were at the library on campus. Who knows? Maybe someone
will
remember seeing us there. A fair number of students were using the facility, plus the library staff.”

“Winona, Ray, and Paul were at the theater, setting up for the show. Winona West is in charge of costumes and props and Paul Roberts is Ray's stage crew.”

“So they should be able to vouch for each other,” Dan said.

He had settled into one of the easy chairs while Sandy took the other with Zara on his lap. The two men appeared to be getting along well, but Liss couldn't quite forget Dan's outburst on Saturday night. The incident had unsettled her, making her wonder if she knew Dan as well as she thought she did. She wasn't certain why he was still here tonight, either, evidently ready, willing, and able to help investigate a murder. Still, she wasn't about to send him away. As an outsider, he might be able to spot something the rest of them overlooked.

“Liss? Would they all have worked in sight of each other?”

She glanced at Sandy. “Pretty much, but Ray was part of the drive to get Victor fired, right?”

Sandy nodded.

“Because of Sarah?”

He looked uncomfortable, but nodded again.

“Then Ray has to remain a suspect. Sarah Bartlett is a dancer who left the company after a quarrel with Victor,” she told Dan. “Ray has romantic feelings for her. If they were working together, that would certainly explain how they got around a tight schedule. She could have provided the scones while he smuggled them into the Student Center kitchen.” She hated to think of Ray Adams as a murderer. She'd known him a long time and she liked the guy. But
someone
had killed Victor.

“She'd have been taking quite a risk,” Sandy pointed out. “We all know Sarah. Besides, if she baked the scones, why break into one of those cabins to do it? That would have increased her chances of being recognized, what with members of the company staying there.”

“She's just one possibility,” Liss reminded him, making a mental note to find out exactly which cabin had been used to bake the scones. “Anyone could have broken in.”

“How did they get out there to do it?” Zara asked. “Steal a car?”

“Good point.” Liss wrote that question on a fresh page.

“Where was the bus parked?” Dan asked. “Could someone have borrowed it to get out to Lakeside Cabins?”

“It was left at the theater,” Sandy said. “Again, kind of risky to take it. Crew might have noticed it was gone, plus it would be pretty hard to hide.”

Liss tried to envision a map of the cabins and realized that they were located in a heavily wooded area. “It would be easy enough to hide a car and not impossible to conceal something as big as a bus. Still, Sandy's right. Why take the risk? The bus sports huge Strathspey Dance Company logos on both sides.”

“We can ask around. See if anyone noticed it out on the roads. And who was driving it.” Dan wasn't giving up on his notion and Liss briefly considered encouraging him to pursue it so she'd be left to her own devices. Almost immediately, she thought better of the idea.

“Can you can get off work tomorrow? I could use your help.”

“With . . . ?”

“There are some people I want to question again and I'm not stupid enough to do it alone. Sherri's on days at the jail, so—”

“Say no more. I'm at your disposal. Just give me a call at the construction site and I'll meet you wherever you say.”

“Good. Now, everyone in the company has a cell phone. All we need are the numbers.”

Zara had a list of them and as soon as she'd fetched it from the guest room, she, Sandy, and Liss spent the next hour making calls to ask their colleagues where they had been between their arrival in Fallstown and the time they'd reported to the theater to dress for the show. It didn't take long to discover that almost everyone had an alibi.

The five young dancers staying at Lakeside Cabins had been together in Denise's cabin the whole time. They'd had a pizza delivered and had given each other facials. Seven of the male dancers had also stuck together, playing cards in one of the motel rooms. The one married couple in the company, Karen and Jim Nixon, had stayed put in their motel room, too.
Not
playing cards. Charles Danielstone and Jock O'Brien—they weren't a couple, but habitually roomed together on the road to save money—had gone out to get a bite to eat at a fast food place with Roberta Gough and Janet Burns, who occupied the adjoining room at the motel. Cal MacBain and Josie Malone had left the B-and-B as soon as they'd unpacked to take a stroll around town. They'd been together the whole time.

In the end, Liss's list of thirty names had shrunk to six. The only members of the company who did not have anyone to vouch for their whereabouts during all of the crucial hours were Sandy, Zara, Stewart, Emily, Fiona, and Lee Annie, the company songbird. And Victor Owens. No one knew where he had been or what he had done on the last afternoon of his life.

 

 

Tuesday morning Dan was scheduled to work at the site of a new house Ruskin Construction was building. He got there early, but his brother, Sam, was ahead of him, drinking coffee out of a thermal mug he'd brought with him from home and studying the blueprints. The smell of chicory drifted toward Dan through the low-hanging fog that had made the drive from Moosetookalook something of a challenge. It was warmer this morning than it had been for weeks, triggering a rapid snowmelt. Another sunny day or two like this one and they'd be smack in the middle of mud season.
Not
the most beautiful time of year in Maine.

“I may have to take off later today,” Dan told his brother.

“Why's that?”

“These friends of Liss's . . . she's trying to help them out.” He gave Sam a quick recap of the situation.

“Friends like that, who needs enemies?”

“Most of them are okay. One bad apple . . .”

Sam shrugged. “Liss taken to snooping again?”

“You know Liss.” They headed for the shell of the house and began nailing sheathing to the frame. Dan held one of the eight-by-four-foot panels of treated plywood while Sam used the nail gun. “At least this time she asked me to watch her back.” Even if he had been her second choice after Sherri Willett!

“Seems like she'd have plenty of people to back her up, what with all of those dancers being stuck here.”

“Except that one of them is probably a murderer.”

“They're all suspects?”

“Pretty much.”

“Tell her to butt out. Safer that way.”

“Oh, that would go over big. She prides herself on being able to handle anything.”

Sam shook his had. “Man, you are so whipped!”

“She's important to me,” Dan said quietly.

Something in his tone must have gotten through to Sam, because the smart-ass grin disappeared from his face. “What's really got you scared?”

“You mean besides the fact that I'm afraid she'll get too close to Victor Owens's killer and end up as victim number two?”

“Yeah.” They moved on to the next sheet of plywood.

“I screwed up, Sam. I was jealous of this guy, Sandy—he's staying at her house with his fiancée—and I let Liss see how I felt. She was not flattered. I think she's forgiven me for that, but the last thing I can do now is start issuing orders. If I try too hard to protect her, she'll dump me along with yesterday's trash. I'm not willing to risk that. She's too important to me.”

“I sure hope you're not asking me for advice to the lovelorn. I'm no expert on romance.” Sam chuckled. “Just ask my wife.”

Dan gave a snort.

“You could ask Mary, though. Maybe she can suggest something, being a woman and all.”

Oh yeah. That was going to happen. If his brother had thought his inability to deal with Liss was funny, their sister would laugh her ass off. Dan, choosing to use a hammer instead of a nail gun, worked off some of his frustration pounding on the next section of sheathing.

Sam waited until they'd finished the front of the house. “You could ask Liss to marry you. Husbands are allowed to be a little overprotective.”

“Don't think I haven't considered it, though I'm not sure Liss would agree with your reasoning.” A husband, however, or even a fiancé, could stick a whole lot closer to his woman than a mere “neighbor.”

“So, what's holding you back?”

“Abject terror, Sam. I'm afraid she'll say no.”

Like Tandy's Music and Gifts, Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium was a family business. Liss's grandfather had started it and for a while her father and her aunt, Margaret Boyd, had run it together. When Liss's parents moved to Arizona, Aunt Margaret had continued the business on her own, until last summer when she'd sold half interest to her niece.

“I love this place.” Liss unlocked the door and waved Zara and Sandy inside.

She'd made all sorts of improvements to the business in recent months, adding a Web page and producing a glossy mail-order catalog, but the store itself remained essentially the same. The sales counter was to the left of the door. To the right, beyond rows of shelving displaying all sorts of Scottish-themed gift items, was the “cozy corner” where comfortable chairs had been arranged for the convenience of patrons who wanted to consider before they bought. Several shelves full of books about Scotland, both fiction and nonfiction, also occupied that space.

The rest of the sales floor was taken up with racks of kilts and tartan skirts and display cases holding various Scottish accessories. There was everything from kilt hose and sporrans to
skean dhus
, brooches, and clan crest badges. Along one wall were bagpipes, practice chanters, penny whistles, and drumsticks—the kind with a big ball of fluff at one end, used to play the bass drum in a bagpipe band.

The surfaces of the cabinets, shelves, and tables gleamed, redolent of lemon-scented furniture polish. Every item on display had been meticulously placed to show to advantage. Liss felt her heart swell with pride as she surveyed her domain. She had succeeded in the goals she'd set for herself six months ago when she and Aunt Margaret became partners—she'd brought the Emporium into the twenty-first century and still managed to carry on in the traditional manner. Old customers revisiting the store would find everything just as it always had been, with perhaps a few more items added to the inventory.

“Just show me your pricing system and I'll take it from there,” Zara said. “Do you discount to other dealers?”

“Ten percent. I didn't realize you'd worked in retail before.”

Zara's face closed up. “It was that or waitressing. I wasn't interested in lugging heavy trays of food around and dodging pinches from customers.”

Liss let the subject drop. She spent less than half an hour familiarizing her houseguests with the store's stock. After mentioning a shipment she was expecting that someone would have to sign for, she was out the door. As soon as she picked Dan up, she would be on her way to Fallstown to talk to the rest of the people on her short list. She also intended to look for Sarah Bartlett.

Halfway out to the construction site, her cell phone rang. She pulled over to the side of the road to answer it and was surprised to find the owner of Lonesome Stranger Bed-and-Breakfast on the other end of the line. “Problem, Rosemary?”

“I'm afraid so. All four of my rooms are booked from tomorrow night on—guests coming into town for a wedding. You're going to have to find other accommodations for your people.”

“Has Miss Townsend returned to her room?”

“Yes. She's here. Do you want to talk to her?”

“No, that's all right. I'm on my way to Fallstown. I'll see her when I get there. And don't worry, Rosemary. I'll make other arrangements for everyone.”

She returned the phone to her purse with a thoughtful expression on her face. It was going to take some work to shuffle everyone around to their—and her own—satisfaction, but this unexpected eviction might turn out to be a blessing in disguise.