Murder of a Hermit, page 21
Summer nodded in agreement. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t have left Miranda alone outside the gate.’
‘I asked her three times if she wanted to drive back to the city with us in convoy, but she said that she was going to try to call Paul again and then continue running her errands. We couldn’t drag her into the car and force her to return home just because she looked a little flustered.’
‘We should go next door and check on her later.’
‘Do you really think that’s necessary?’ Hope passed on a pair of shriveled apples. ‘Miranda was disconcerted by the séance, but she wasn’t horrorstruck by it. Plus, she has Paul for support.’
‘But it’s a good excuse to talk to her,’ Summer said. ‘If we sympathize over her freezer and feign interest as to when Gina will receive the crepe cookbook from her, then we can find out how long Miranda remained on the driveway after we departed and whether she heard or saw anything of interest during that time.’
Hope smiled. ‘You’re even shrewder than Nate.’
Summer did not return the smile. ‘My goal is to prevent us from being arrested for Carter’s murder. Gina has apparently decided that we’re the prime enemy. If she’s willing to draw attention to herself and her fraudulent séances by contacting the police, then she must be extremely concerned about us.’
‘That’s true. She would only take such a risk if she viewed us as an even greater potential risk.’
‘Which means that Gina is the murderer, doesn’t it? She’s afraid that we’ll accuse her, so she’s accusing us first. Could there be another explanation?’
Holding a jar of spaghetti sauce that had a variety of green and brown spots growing along its rim, Hope considered for a moment. ‘Perhaps Gina is attempting to extort us to gain possession of the other book.’
Summer shook her head. ‘As you said yesterday, aside from the police and Dylan, no one is aware that Volume I was found in Carter’s cloak and safely returned to us.’
Hope considered some more. ‘We could be wrong.’
‘In what way?’
‘Maybe Gina isn’t concerned about us at all. Maybe she’s actually concerned about the Bergs, and she thinks that pointing the finger at us will protect her from them somehow.’
‘Then that would mean Jill or Austin is the murderer.’
‘Either way’ – Hope threw the spaghetti sauce into the trash bag and closed the nearly empty refrigerator – ‘it doesn’t give us any more useful information than we had before. We already knew that one of the three was responsible for Carter’s death. And it also doesn’t bring us any closer to getting Volume II back from Gina.’
Summer knotted the top of the trash bag. ‘I have no idea how we’ll retrieve the book now. We can’t go to Gina’s house and knock on the gate after what she told the police. She could make all sorts of additional accusations against us for trespassing and threatening her and the like.’
‘Miranda’s crepe cookbook isn’t enough of a subterfuge to help with that.’
‘I wish that we – and Miranda – had been at the gate a little earlier yesterday. Then we might have managed to get into the house before the police arrived.’
‘Possibly.’ Hope walked to the door that led outside from the kitchen and opened it for her sister. ‘But it’s just as possible that we would have ended up in worse trouble depending on how the situation with Gina and our book unfolded.’
‘I suppose so.’ Summer carried the trash bag through the open doorway. ‘I suppose that we—’ She stopped with a sudden cry.
‘What is it?’ Hope asked, hurrying after her. ‘What—’ She broke off with equal abruptness.
Three short steps descended from the kitchen to the outdoor garbage can and the back corner of the brownstone. Rosemarie Potter was sitting on the middle step.
‘I’m sorry if I startled you,’ Rosemarie apologized.
Although Hope wanted to respond, she was too astonished. Rosemarie always visited them using the front entrance of the boutique, and her arrival frequently involved a voluble kerfuffle; she never turned up quietly and unannounced outside their kitchen door. But that didn’t surprise Hope nearly as much as Rosemarie’s choice of apparel. Even during the chill of winter, Rosemarie had a penchant for billowy, flowered dresses in vivid colors. Today, however, she wore a black taffeta evening gown with elbow-length, black satin gloves. Her scarlet hair was gathered in a big pouf on the top of her head. Based on her appearance, Rosemarie could have been waiting for a limousine to convey her to the opera. Except she was perched on the edge of a dusty concrete step beside the sisters’ recycling bin.
Summer gurgled a few disconnected words. ‘Why… How…?’
‘I don’t like him,’ Rosemarie announced. ‘I don’t like him at all.’
Hope cleared her throat and found her voice. ‘Who?’
‘Him.’ Rosemarie pointed straight ahead.
The back corner of their brownstone was almost directly opposite from the back corner of the Larsons’ brownstone, and both households put their garbage cans in the same respective location for easy access to the alley on trash collection day. Although the distance was more than sufficient to keep everybody’s conversations private, the view from one property to the other was unobstructed. Paul was presently standing at his garbage can, arranging a mound of bags to squeeze in as many as possible. It was not difficult to guess that the bags were filled with the former contents of the freezer.
‘That hair of his.’ Rosemarie pointed some more. ‘It’s too bright.’
With effort, Hope swallowed a laugh. Paul’s orange shock of hair was indeed bright, but he had the excuse of it being natural. Rosemarie couldn’t make the same claim for her blazing red-dyed tresses.
‘And he’s not environmentally conscious,’ Rosemarie continued. ‘If you had seen all of the things that he’s thrown away.’
‘It’s spoiled food from the power outage,’ Summer told her. ‘The same as us.’ She motioned toward the bag that she was holding. ‘The city is working on setting up a composting program, but there have been some hiccups with the implementation.’
Rosemarie shook her head. ‘It’s much more than food. I’ve been watching him for the last half an hour. There were cardboard boxes, and a doormat, and what looked like a set of old towels, and…’
As Rosemarie proceeded with a comprehensive list of Paul’s refuse, Summer deposited their refuse in the garbage can with a deliberately loud thud. When that didn’t stop Rosemarie, Summer interrupted her.
‘The Larsons’ cellar was flooded, Rosemarie. It’s only logical that they would have extra items to dispose of.’
Rosemarie frowned. She seemed to want to carry on with her condemnations of Paul, but she couldn’t think of a way to do so. Hope understood why. Rosemarie was rarely so critical of anyone. Her natural instinct was to like and trust everybody, oftentimes far too much and far too quickly for her own good. In this instance, however, Paul had committed a cardinal sin: he had called her darling Percy a nuisance and a menace. He had also threatened to contact Animal Control to potentially take possession of the pug. Others might have expressed their anger toward Paul more forcefully and directly, but being a kind and gentle soul, Rosemarie’s wrath was limited to the belated censure – to Hope and Summer – of his hair and trash.
Reminded of Percy, Hope looked around the steps, but the pug was nowhere to be seen. ‘Where is Percy?’ she asked Rosemarie. ‘If you didn’t bring him with you because you were worried about Paul, there’s no need for you to be anxious. Paul was stressed about his cellar and all of the associated costs, so he got a little short-tempered the other day. He would never actually contact Animal Control.’
After frowning for a moment longer in Paul’s direction, Rosemarie’s expression softened, as though she had made the decision to forgive and forget all past transgressions. Then she said, ‘Percy is with the dog-sitter for the evening. I promised that I would call him once an hour, so he can hear the sound of my voice. Percy’s fond of the sitter, but I don’t want him to think that I’ve abandoned him.’
Hope smiled. ‘Percy is lucky to have you, Rosemarie.’
‘I’m lucky to have him,’ she responded earnestly. ‘Although sometimes his fur can get a bit troublesome.’ She brushed at the taffeta cascading across her lap. ‘I spent most of the morning picking it clean. Black may be good at hiding a stain or spot, but it shows every tiny piece of lint and hair.’
‘You look very nice in your gown,’ Hope complimented her.
‘Very nice,’ Summer concurred. ‘You must have a big date this evening.’ She checked her watch. ‘But isn’t it a little early, even for a Friday?’
The question appeared to momentarily confuse Rosemarie. ‘I didn’t want to take the chance of being late.’
‘But you should have gone inside instead of sitting out here on the steps and potentially getting your gown dirty,’ Hope said.
‘The boutique door was locked,’ Rosemarie explained, ‘so I came around this way to wait for you.’
‘The boutique door was locked?’ Hope asked.
‘I locked it when we went into the kitchen to clean out the refrigerator,’ Summer said. ‘Too many people have been wandering in recently and helping themselves to things that don’t belong to them, if you understand my meaning.’
Hope nodded. ‘You’re right. We need to be more careful.’
Summer nodded back at her. ‘Even though the police tape was removed expeditiously, I have no doubt that some news of what happened on the side lawn still managed to spread, and a camper van full of conspiracy theorists could show up in front of the brownstone at any time. We don’t want them to wander in uninvited, either.’
A crease formed in Rosemarie’s brow. ‘A camper van full of conspiracy theorists? Why would they come here?’
Hope promptly switched the subject. ‘Next time, Rosemarie, simply knock on a door or give us a shout through a window, and we’ll open up right away. Now let’s go inside and sit down on some clean and comfortable chairs. Then you can tell us all about your exciting plans for the evening.’
The crease deepened. ‘But you know about the plans.’
‘We do?’ Hope said, helping Rosemarie to rise from the step and straighten her gown. ‘Did you tell us previously?’
Similar to when Summer had commented on the early hour of the date, the question appeared to momentarily confuse Rosemarie. ‘I was told that you were told.’
Now Summer also looked confused. ‘Huh?’
There was a pause, as though Rosemarie wasn’t sure how to answer. Then she said, ‘I don’t want to be one of those pushy people who herds others along, but shouldn’t you be getting ready yourselves?’
‘Getting ready for what?’ Summer responded with a touch of annoyance. ‘My date isn’t until tomorrow, assuming that Nate is still interested.’
‘Of course he’s still interested,’ Hope said. ‘It wouldn’t matter to him that—’
Without warning, her sentence was concluded by Dylan.
‘It wouldn’t matter to him that a ghost has accused you of being a murderess.’ Dylan chuckled. ‘It might even make you more desirable in Nate’s eyes. He is a detective, after all.’
Dylan’s unanticipated arrival surprised Hope. But when she turned to look at him standing at the base of the steps, she was so taken aback that she had to hold on to the kitchen door to steady herself. Dylan was wearing an immaculately tailored suit in a shade of smoky blue that changed subtly to gray and then almost to black depending on how the light hit him. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar; he wore no tie. His shoes were perfectly polished. His sandy hair curled casually and yet fell flawlessly into place.
‘Mercy me,’ Rosemarie exhaled, gaping at him.
Dylan smiled. It was a smile of confidence. He knew that he was well dressed and looked good.
‘I don’t think,’ Rosemarie crooned, ‘that I’ve ever seen such a handsome man in all of my life.’
The smile grew. ‘I’m glad that I meet with your approval. I certainly don’t want to disappoint my date.’
Summer choked. ‘Your date?’
‘Allow me to add,’ Dylan continued suavely to Rosemarie, ‘that you are quite stunning yourself. Too many women fall back on a black dress out of safety. For you, however, it’s an excellent choice.’
Every visible inch of Rosemarie’s skin turned salmon pink, and she giggled with delight.
‘As for you two…’ Dylan turned a disapproving eye toward Hope and Summer.
‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ Summer snapped in defense, ‘but we just finished cleaning out the refrigerator.’
‘That explains the mustard and pickle juice stains,’ he said.
Summer examined her clothing. ‘There isn’t any mustard or pickle juice!’
Dylan shook his head at her in amusement. ‘It’s no wonder that Gina thinks she can get away with all of her stunts. You – and so many others – believe things far too easily.’
‘I’ve never believed a single word that has come out of Gina’s lying—’
Hope interrupted her sister with a sharp cough.
‘Shouldn’t we believe Gina?’ Rosemarie asked innocently.
‘You can judge for yourself tonight,’ Dylan replied. ‘When we’re at her house.’
Hope stared at him, stunned. Dylan and Rosemarie – in evening wear – were going to Gina’s house?
Dylan laughed at her expression. ‘Don’t be jealous. Rosemarie may be my date, but we’ll all be there together. Nate has arranged everything.’
‘What has Nate arranged?’ Summer demanded.
‘Gina’s next séance.’
TWENTY-THREE
Hope was rendered speechless. Nate had arranged for Gina to have another séance? She must have heard Dylan wrong. She looked at her sister to see if she had understood him any better, but Summer appeared to be equally at a loss.
Dylan tapped his elegant wristwatch. ‘Time is ticking by, and at the rate we’re moving, we’ll be unfashionably tardy. As I was arriving, your neighbors were in the process of departing, which means that we’ll be behind them by a considerable distance.’
The neighbors? They had departed? Hope turned to the back corner of the Larsons’ brownstone where Paul had been standing a short while earlier. He was no longer there, nor was he visible anywhere else on his property. His garbage can was closed, with all of the trash bags tucked neatly inside. She tried to recall what Paul had been wearing, but she hadn’t taken notice of his clothing.
‘I made sure to come here early,’ Rosemarie informed Dylan proudly. ‘I told Hope and Summer that I didn’t want to take the chance of being late.’
‘And they apparently didn’t listen to you,’ he replied, ‘because they’re still standing on the steps gawking at us instead of going inside and getting properly attired, so that we can start our drive up the mountain.’
Summer made a spluttering noise.
‘Let me get this straight.’ Hope spoke slowly. ‘You’re dressed up to go to Gina’s house – for a séance – which was arranged by Nate?’
Dylan inclined his head.
‘The Larsons are going there, too?’ she continued.
He inclined his head again.
‘And you’re expecting us to go also?’
‘Indubitably,’ he said.
Summer’s spluttering noise repeated itself, followed by a host of spluttering words. ‘Have you lost your mind? Hope and I are not under any circumstances going to Gina’s house for a séance!’
Dylan’s gaze narrowed. ‘You’re going.’
‘No, we’re not—’
‘Yes, you are,’ he cut her off brusquely. ‘This is your best option. Nate thinks so. I think so. And if you can control your temper and consider what’s at stake, you’ll think so, too—’
Interrupting him, Hope turned to Rosemarie. ‘The reception on Bent Mountain is spotty. If you want to call the dog-sitter and check on Percy, now would probably be a good time. Why don’t you go into the kitchen? That way Percy will be able to hear your voice without being distracted by our background chatter.’
‘Oh, that’s a great idea. I didn’t know about the spotty reception. I’m so glad that you mentioned it. I’ll call right away…’ Rosemarie hurried into the kitchen.
‘Smart,’ Dylan complimented Hope, as they in turn moved further from the open doorway. ‘The less that Rosemarie hears, the better. She’s much too naive when it comes to Gina.’
Hope nodded. ‘And if she gets excited, she may inadvertently repeat something to Gina that we don’t want repeated.’
Summer folded her arms across her chest. ‘It doesn’t matter what Rosemarie hears or repeats to Gina, because we won’t be at the séance.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Dylan rejoined. ‘You’ve already been accused of murder once without being there to defend yourself. Nate did an outstanding job of muddying the waters as to that alleged séance, and you should be grateful to him for it. He pointed out to Gina that there were no witnesses to corroborate her claims, and she said that she would hold another séance, with everyone present this time.’
‘Everyone?’ Hope inquired.
‘Everyone who had any connection with Carter on the day that he died. That was Nate’s stipulation for his attendance, and Gina agreed to it.’
‘Including the Bergs?’
‘Including the Bergs,’ Dylan confirmed. ‘According to Gina, a séance is most likely to be successful when all of the participants are in pairs. Thus, we have the Bergs, the Larsons, the Bailey sisters, and my date with Rosemarie.’ He smiled at Hope. ‘I told you that you didn’t need to be jealous.’
