Chapter 8
May you touch dragonflies and stars, dance with fairies and talk to the moon. ¡ªAnonymous
The way Summers had lit into Kenny made me feel better. Maybe Wanda, despite the incriminatory evidence, wasn't his only suspect.
I recalled the way Lana had demeaned Kenny publicly earlier. I could imagine that he might have texted her and asked her to meet him at the bidding room so he could read her the riot act. Had she shown up with attitude and lashed out? I imagined Kenny picking up the gavel and threatening her with it and Lana growing livid and rushing at him, claws drawn. They struggled. The fairy garden tumbled. Papers flew. Ultimately, Kenny prevailed and stabbed her with the letter opener.
The timing seemed particularly important. The murderer would have needed to have killed Lana and escaped before Wanda had walked out of the restroom in a trance. I flashed on the paper towels among the rubble. Had Wanda entered with them in hand, or had Kenny brought them with him? If that was the case, why? In order to wipe off blood that might splatter onto his clothes or clean the weapon. Did that imply premeditation? Why leave the paper towels?
"Detective, my mother needs some air," Meaghan said. "May we step outside?"
Summers nodded. "Don't go far."
"May I join them, Detective?" I asked. I needed to get the lowdown.
"Sure."
Before I left, I said to him, "Lana's cell phone." I pointed to it. "Is there a text message on it? Maybe the killer summoned her here."
Summers picked it up. "It's password protected."
"Her fingertip might ... you know ... " A bitter taste flooded my mouth.
He followed my suggestion and placed Lana's finger on the Open button. It worked. He scrolled through her text messages. "No recent ones. The last was at six p.m. from her husband."
"I suppose a message could have been erased?"
Summers frowned. "I'll consider it."
Sensing he didn't want more of my input, I slipped outside.
Meaghan and her mother were sitting on a cement bench near the bidding room entrance.
I perched on the opposite side of Wanda and slung an arm around her. "How are you doing?"
"Not well. I didn't ..." She let the sentence hang.
"I know you didn't."
A huge crowd had gathered beyond the yellow crime scene tape. Each person was goggling in the direction of the bidding room. The band had stopped playing. The officers Reddick had put in charge of the perimeter were doing their best to keep people quiet and respectful. I noticed Brady among the crowd. He beckoned me.
I said to Meaghan and Wanda, "I'll be right back," and strode along the walkway to him. Staying within the perimeter, I said,"Hey, Brady."
"Hey, yourself. Is it true? Lana Lamar is dead? Murdered?"
"Mm-hm."
"What a shock."
"I'll say."
Quickly, he recapped what he'd heard so far, about the crime scene, and Wanda, and the sleepwalking.
I wasn't sure from whom he would have gleaned all of that. I didn't ask. Maybe Miss Reade had revealed what she'd seen while on the hunt for Elton. Or Tamara Geoffries had spilled everything. Where had she gone? I scanned the crowd and spied her standing near Kenny Chu. Earlier, he'd helped her while she'd struggled into her shoe, causing me to wonder whether there had been something between them. Would she cover for him if there was?
"Everyone has an opinion," Brady added.
"Like ... "
"Tish Waterman said she heard a cat yowl at nine o'clock exactly."
A while back, Tish Waterman, who owned A Peaceful Solution day spa, had had it in for me. Believing my fanciful shop was wicked, she'd campaigned to force Open Your Imagination to close its doors. Thanks to a nurturer fairy who Tish had denied existed until Fiona interceded¡ªactually, Tish had erased the fairy from her memory because life had thrown her a curveball¡ªwe had resolved our differences.
Brady added, "She thinks nine p.m. might be the time of death."
Out of nowhere, a ghostly gray cat with a white muzzle darted by our feet. Was it the same one I'd seen on Thursday in the courtyard when Tamara had shown up? Where had it come from? It scampered toward the estate abutting the Meeting Hall property. I noticed a large crypt on the other side of the wire fence, nearly ten feet tall and ten feet wide, and a shiver ran down my spine. Was the property a cemetery? I'd never paid attention.
Shaking off the notion, I said to Brady, "What else have you learned?"
"Hattie Hopewell saw Kenny Chu arguing with Lana tonight."
Hattie was a flamboyant redhead in her sixties. She regularly made fairy gardens and was the chairperson for the Happy Diggers garden club.
"Did she hear what they were arguing about?" Maybe Kenny had followed Lana after all, as Elton had urged him to do.
"Not specifically, but Hattie said there was a lot of finger-pointing."
Maybe Kenny hadn't needed to text Lana; he'd merely moved their argument into the bidding room. He made his final point by stabbing her in the heart.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll let the detective know."
"Wait." Brady placed a hand on my shoulder. His touch felt reassuring. Wonderful, in fact. "How are you holding up? This can't be easy. You. Murder. Is it dredging up memories?"
A chill ran down my neck. I was the one who'd found the groomer in our shop a few months ago. "It's not something I'll ever get used to, but I'm fine. I'm not a suspect." Honestly, I hadn't been thinking about me at all. Wanda had been my sole focus. "But Wanda Brownie is, and she's like my second mother. I've never seen her so fragile, Brady. And Meaghan?" I shook my head. "I ache for them."
Brady squeezed my shoulder and released me. "Hang in there."
"Keep listening to the scuttlebutt. I want a report."
"I'm all ears." He waggled them comically, bringing a smile to my face.
I returned to Meaghan. She and her mother were still sitting on the bench outside the rear foyer, but Wanda was leaning forward, elbows on her knees, her head resting in her hands. I whispered, "Meaghan¡ª"
Wanda sat up abruptly. "I didn't do this, Courtney. I did not kill Lana."
"Do you remember what happened?" I asked.
"Mom and I have gone over it a couple of times," Meaghan said. "She went to the ladies' room. She took a nap, woke up, and found herself... there." She jutted a hand toward the foyer.
"Wanda," I said, "walk me through it. Maybe I'll hear something new."
Wanda sat up, eyes clear. "I went to the ladies' room. There's a small settee inside, as your father indicated there would be. I laid down. If only I'd napped sitting up¡ªI don't go into a heavy sleep that way¡ªbut the champagne and wine had made me sleepy, and I was tired to begin with. This event has been the death of¡ª" She gasped. "I didn't mean ... bad choice of words. Poor Lana." She took a moment to regroup. "At least we won't have to read any more of her horrid critiques, and my clients won't be the recipients of her feral harangues."
"Mom. Stop. Talking." Meaghan clipped off each word. "Did you hear yourself? What you said sounded like ..."
"Motive," I whispered.
Meaghan nodded. "I'm hiring a lawyer. Right now."
"I don't need one," Wanda snapped, and smoothed the lap of her pantsuit. "I'm sure Detective Summers will realize I'm telling the truth."
"Mom, the evidence¡ª"
"Hush." Wanda put a finger to her daughter's lips. "Whoever did this had a reason. I have none. No motive whatsoever."
Other than the one she'd just uttered and Tamara had confirmed, I thought. Was disliking someone's reviews enough reason to kill the person? Would the police think that Wanda had taken revenge on an enemy? Did Kenny Chu or Tamara Geoffries have a better motive to want Lana dead? And what about Lana's husband? Lana had humiliated Elton in front of all those people. How many men would sit idly by and take the abuse?
I caught sight of Tamara slinking toward the foyer doorway. She waved her hand at someone inside. "Detective!" she called. Was she hoping to repeat what she'd uttered earlier, ready to throw Wanda to the wolves at whatever the cost?
"I'll be right back," I said to Meaghan, and made a beeline for Tamara. I tapped her on the shoulder.
She whipped around. Her eyes widened. "Oh, it's you."
"Sorry if I frightened you. Not many other guests hanging around."
"I think we're all on edge," she said, her voice faint.
"Did you think of something else? Is that why you want to get the detective's attention?"
"I ... yes." Tamara licked her lips.
Summers moved into the doorway, the light from the foyer casting a glow around his rugged silhouette. "What do you want, Miss Geoffries?"
"Mrs. Geoffries," Tamara stated, while fiddling with a wedding ring on her left hand.
I'd never seen a man at her house. She danced alone each night. Was she a widow?
"I saw Wanda and Lana arguing on the street yesterday," Tamara stated.
My stomach clenched. No question about it; she was intent on throwing Wanda to the wolves.
Fiona whizzed to me. "What's wrong?"
I wanted to ask where she'd been, but I didn't want to miss whatever Tamara said next. I held a single finger near my cheek, hoping Fiona would get the hint that I needed a minute. She did. She settled on my shoulder.
"What were they arguing about?" Summers asked Tamara.
"About Lana's membership at Sport Zone," she said. "I know this is old news after the free-for-all between them at Cypress and Ivy Courtyard on Thursday¡ª"
"What free-for-all?" Summers raised an eyebrow.
"Why, Lana attacked Wanda," Tamara replied. "In public. Didn't you hear? She even broke an artist's creation, a glazed pot, at Wanda's daughter's gallery. It was quite the to-do. Wanda was upset with Lana for panning one of her daughter's artists."
I silently cursed. This did not look good for Wanda.
"Courtney used a hose on Lana when she wouldn't back off," Tamara added.
Summers studied me. With respect or veiled humor I wasn't sure.
"But the other thing I wanted to tell you, sir," Tamara continued, "is that I saw Wanda yesterday and she'd appeared dazed. Is it possible she was sleepwalking when she was arguing with Lana? I only say this because my mother was a sleepwalker, may she rest in peace. So I'm not sure Wanda would even remember quarreling with Lana. And, just for the record, I don't think she killed Lana tonight."
Talk about a case of whiplash. Now Tamara was standing up for Wanda? Why? Was she hoping that by acting like a Good Samaritan she could make herself look innocent, as well?
Summers said, "Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate your candor. If you would provide Officer Reddick with your statement, then you'll be excused." He retreated inside.
I watched Tamara converse with Reddick. He, like Summers, jotted the conversation in a notebook, and then Tamara ducked under the yellow tape and melded into the crowd.
"Where have you been?" I whispered to Fiona, who flew off my shoulder and floated in front of my face.
"Merryweather and I were flying among the bystanders, listening."
"Is that allowed?" I asked.
She folded her arms and raised her chin. "It's not socializing."
"Okay, don't get huffy." I held out my hand and she settled onto it, crossing her legs. "What did you learn?"
"Not many are sorry that Lana Lamar is dead."