An Anniversary to Die For Read online

  “It wasn’t to me, but he did work in Hancock for a while. In fact, he was here the summer you and I spent Fourth of July week up in Maine. He must have worked here longer, of course. But I don’t remember meeting him. And apparently he didn’t remember meeting me.”

  “I suppose I heard about him from someone. I assume he’s in charge of the investigation. And you said Brett was there?”

  “Yes. Jed called Brett when he found Ashley. And Brett called Peter.”

  “Of course.”

  “Brett said something about contacting Doug, but I don’t know if he did or not.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he did. Doug is probably somewhere being questioned right now.” She took another sip of her juice. “Why did you think she was poisoned?”

  “Well, she was dead. She obviously had been killed. I mean, if she had died of natural causes she wouldn’t have had gifts piled on her, right?”

  “You think that the person who killed her put her on your bed and then covered her with gifts, right?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why was she in your room? Why was she on the bed? Why did someone think covering her up was a smart thing to do?”

  Susan looked at Kathleen. “Good questions. Very good questions. I don’t have any idea.”

  “Well, it’s early days yet,” Kathleen said. “You know what I’d really like to know?”

  “What?”

  “Who knew that was your room. There are nine rooms in the inn, right?”

  “In the main building. Eight more in the annex across the street.”

  “And I assume your room is the biggest?”

  “Nope. There’s one suite that’s much bigger. Ours isn’t particularly special—but it’s nice and private on that side of the building.”

  “Was it locked?”

  “Yes, but the inn isn’t exactly up-to-date in that respect.”

  “No little cards with magnetic strips to let you into the room?”

  Susan laughed for the first time since seeing Ashley in her bed. “Nothing like that. The doors have these big metal keys. I suspect I could break into a room there without any trouble at all.”

  “But how would anyone just looking in the door know that you and Jed were staying in that particular room?”

  “No one else would have a room full of gifts.”

  “The gifts weren’t always there,” Kathleen pointed out. “At the beginning of the party, they were piled on a long trestle table in the room where the television is located.”

  “Constance and Alvena call that the Southern Parlor,” Susan commented.

  “Is there a Northern Parlor?”

  “I have no idea.” Susan paused. “You know, I didn’t see any gifts.”

  “That’s because one of the Twigg sisters stood at the door, greeting your guests and directing people toward you and Jed. Guests who brought gifts were also told where they should be left before you saw them.”

  “Oh . . . I guess that was a good idea.”

  “I gather you didn’t know about it.”

  “No, I thought we’d discussed everything when we went over party plans, but gifts never came up.”

  “Well, the Twiggs—it seems strange to call them that, doesn’t it—were prepared for them. But the question is, when were they moved into your room?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I think we can assume that if Ashley was on your bed, whoever moved the gifts in there would have mentioned it.”

  “Good point. Of course, we don’t know if Ashley was killed in the room or killed somewhere else and moved there.”

  “Susan, we’re not investigating this murder, are we?”

  “No, I guess not. I mean, I haven’t thought about it in those terms. I just have lots of questions. After all, she did end up in my bed.”

  “True.”

  “Under my presents—which are now being held by the local police. Peter said something about dusting them for fingerprints.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Don’t you think they’ll find any?”

  “They’re bound to find some—and I suppose the murderer’s could be among those of the gift givers, the Twigg sisters, members of their staff, the salespeople who wrapped them, and anyone else who came in contact with them since they were wrapped up. On the other hand, once those people are eliminated, if someone’s prints turn up over and over again, it’s possible that that someone is the murderer.”

  “Do you think it’s Doug?” Susan asked.

  “That’s what everyone’s going to be asking when they hear about this.” Kathleen put her arms on the table and looked at Susan. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t see him as a murderer. I mean, I wasn’t really surprised when Ashley was arrested for poisoning Doug. Well, I was surprised that anyone was poisoning Doug, but it made sense that if anyone was, Ashley was. Does that make sense?”

  “You don’t like Ashley.”

  “Can’t stand her. And you know what’s worse? I feel guilty about the way I feel. I’ve never not gotten along with a neighbor before. We’ve lived in this house for almost twenty-five years. We’ve had lots of new neighbors. And I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

  “Susan, it’s not you. It’s Ashley. She just wasn’t the type to be a good neighbor. Let’s face it, she was bossy and self-centered. Not a good combination.”

  “That’s true. But, you know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’ve come to agree with Doug.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t think she was the person who was trying to poison him.”

  “Really? Most of the people I know wouldn’t agree with that. Everyone’s been talking about the trial for months. And everyone seems to think that Ashley was guilty as hell.”

  Susan shook her head. “No. If Ashley had decided to poison someone, that someone would be dead. Ashley is competent as well as determined.”

  Kathleen seemed to muse on Susan’s words. “You’re right about that, but it just leaves us with one question: Who is competent and determined and wanted Ashley dead? Because that person seems to have succeeded in killing her.”

  SEVEN

  KATHLEEN AND SUSAN WERE SITTING QUIETLY AT THE kitchen table when Chrissy and Stephen, dressed in running clothes and followed by their dogs, burst into the room.

  “Mom! What are you doing here?” Chrissy cried out before remembering her manners and greeting Kathleen.

  “Didn’t your father tell you we’d come back early?” Susan asked.

  “He was in the hallway upstairs just a while ago, wasn’t he?” Stephen turned to his wife. “I told you I heard someone!”

  “Drib . . . Rock and Roll made all that noise and you didn’t get up to see who—or what—it was?” Susan asked.

  “Mother, if we got up every time Rock or Roll barked, we’d never get any sleep,” Chrissy protested. “They’re very sensitive, you know.”

  Everyone looked down at the sensitive pair now collapsed on the floor. They were licking each other’s hind parts. Clue watched jealously.

  “Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Dad were spending the night at the inn.”

  Susan paused. “Well, I suppose you’ll hear on the evening news. Ashley Marks was killed.”

  “So?”

  “She . . . Her body was found in our room at the inn.”

  “Mother! You’re kidding! Why does this type of thing always happen to you?”

  Susan opened her mouth to protest any part in this event, but Stephen got there first. “It isn’t your mother’s fault if this Ashley Marks was killed in her room. After all, she didn’t do it. . . . You didn’t, did you, Mother?” he ruined his defense of her by asking.

  “Of course not!” And she had always thought her daughter had married an incredibly sensible young man.

  “And there isn’t anything to connect you to this Ashley Marks, is there?”
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  “Well, she was our next-door neighbor. . . .”

  “See,” Chrissy cried. “There’s something about her. She attracts dead bodies!”

  Susan couldn’t let this go by without protesting. “I certainly do not! Dan and Martha lived in that house for over thirty years and nothing happened to either of them. It’s not my fault that the people who moved in would turn out to be the type of people who seemed to get poisoned for some reason or another.”

  “Who else was killed?” Stephen always got to the point.

  “No one. But as you’ve probably heard, Doug Marks was poisoned. He didn’t die, but Ashley was arrested for attempted murder, and then acquitted yesterday.”

  “And now someone has murdered Mrs. Marks,” Stephen said, nodding his head. “That’s very interesting.”

  Chrissy looked at her husband, a shocked expression on her face. “Stephen, just for a minute there, you sounded like my mother when she begins to investigate a crime.”

  “You have to admit, it’s a fascinating puzzle.”

  “I don’t have to admit anything. In fact, I don’t find it interesting at all!” Chrissy had had her blond hair cut short since she got married, and she ran her hands through it, causing it to stand up in the air. “Besides, I thought we were getting up early because we wanted to go over to the park and let the dogs run.”

  Stephen’s reaction to this was all a mother-in-law could desire. He leapt to his feet and ordered the dogs to do the same. In a few minutes—in the time it took to convince Clue that she really didn’t want to go on another walk— Susan and Kathleen were alone again.

  “So, where were we?” Kathleen asked.

  “They make a nice couple, don’t they?” Susan said, staring at the door swinging closed behind her daughter and son-in-law.

  “Very. Chrissy is looking happy and healthy.”

  Susan leaned across the table and grabbed Kathleen’s wrist. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Chrissy’s gained weight.”

  “Well, maybe a little, but it doesn’t seem to have hurt her looks. She’s positively glowing.” Kathleen’s eyebrows leapt up. “Susan, I know what you’re thinking! You think she’s pregnant!”

  “I think it’s a possibility. She and Stephen are on this new health kick, and I overheard them talking about her ‘taking extra vitamins during this time.’ ”

  “During this time! That does sound like she could be pregnant!” Kathleen looked as happy as Susan. “You’ll be a grandmother. We’ll have a baby around again. Won’t Emily and Alex be thrilled?” she asked, referring to her own children.

  “Well, maybe Emily.” Susan doubted if many ten-year-old boys were enthralled by infants.

  “Does Jed know?”

  “No, I decided not to say anything to him. Chrissy and Stephen will be here until the end of the week. So there will be lots of opportunities for them to announce their big news. And I think we should let them do it in their own time and their own way.”

  “Of course. Oh, Susan, a baby! You know, I think I’ll get out that afghan I was knitting for Alex and didn’t finish in time for Emily’s birth and work on it again. I’d just love it if Chrissy’s baby would use it.”

  “But you won’t say anything to anyone.”

  “Of course not! And you’ll let me know the second you’re sure.”

  “Of course!”

  They were still beaming at each other when Brett appeared at the back door. “I don’t suppose those happy expressions mean you’ve figured out who killed Ashley Marks.”

  Susan and Kathleen exchanged glances. “No,” Susan answered. “We were just laughing at Chrissy and Stephen and . . . um . . . their dogs.” She got up from the table and headed to a counter covered with imported small appliances. “Coffee?”

  “Sounds great.” He pulled out a seat from the table, spun it around, sat down, and draped his arms over its back.

  “You look exhausted.”

  “I am. Mentally and physically. It was hard work telling Doug that his wife had been poisoned.”

  “And was it news to him?” Susan asked quickly.

  “Yup. According to Doug, he and Ashley had an argument at the inn—probably about that stupid joke he made—and she told him to go home alone and took off down some sort of path by the river.”

  Kathleen leaned forward. “Do you think he did it?”

  “You know how some cops are always telling you that they can tell when a guy is lying? Well, I’m not one of those guys. Doug seemed sincerely surprised—shocked, really—and distraught at the news. But for all I know, he has a graduate degree in theater from Yale and it was all an act.” Brett shrugged. “I’ve been wrong so many times, I don’t even bother trying to guess.” He looked over his shoulder at Susan, busy at the counter grinding beans. “But you have excellent instincts, and they are your neighbors. What do you think, Susan? Could he have killed his wife?”

  Susan poured the ground beans into a paper cone, dropped the filter in its holder, pressed a few buttons, and turned around slowly. “I suppose so. If he believed she was trying to kill him, he might have decided the only answer was to do her in first. Of course, that wouldn’t explain why he was such a staunch supporter of her during her trial.”

  Kathleen laughed. “Maybe he knew she would be found not guilty and he was afraid of what she would do to him when she was released if he wasn’t publicly supportive.”

  “That might not be as far-fetched as it sounds,” Brett said. “There were a lot of people who thought the DA didn’t have much of a case, and it’s entirely possible that Doug was well aware of that fact. Heaven knows, he was interviewed more times than anyone else during the investigation. If he thought she was going to be found innocent, he might have decided supporting her was safer than not supporting her.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Susan protested. “Why wouldn’t he just leave her? Get a divorce? Just get in the car and drive away, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t that easy for him to do,” Brett suggested quietly, picking up his coffee mug.

  Susan had heard that tone of voice before. “You know something!”

  “I don’t know anything about the case. But I do know that a marriage can be complex and demanding in ways that outsiders cannot begin to imagine.”

  “Milk?” Susan looked over his head at Kathleen.

  “No thanks. This is excellent. Almost as good as the coffee back at the inn.”

  “Sounds like you haven’t been to bed yet, either,” Susan commented.

  “Nope. And there’s no reason to think today is going to be different.”

  “Susan says the chief of police over there used to work for you in Hancock,” Kathleen said, pouring sugar into her coffee.

  “Yeah. Peter Konowitz. Did you meet him when he was here?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We were in Maine while he was here,” Susan explained. “Remember? Over the Fourth.”

  Kathleen raised her eyebrows. “We were in Maine a few weeks. How short a time was he here?”

  “Only a few months. Peter Konowitz was a very ambitious young man. He saw that there wasn’t going to be a lot of movement in the hierarchy here, and he moved on. I think he may have gone to New York City. I don’t remember exactly. I do remember suggesting a larger department where he would get more experience doing different kinds of things, where there’d be more room for advancement.”

  Kathleen’s eyebrows continued their upward climb, but she didn’t say anything more.

  Susan yawned. “Wow, I wasn’t tired until I sat down, but now . . .”

  Brett was on his feet immediately. “I should be on my way.”

  “You never told us why you were here,” Kathleen pointed out.

  “I dropped Doug off at home, and frankly, I stopped over to suggest that you might look in on him.”

  “You want me to tell you what sort of mood he’s in? If I think Dou
g killed Ashley? I’d be happy to help,” Susan offered quickly.

  “Susan, I wasn’t thinking investigator. I was thinking neighbor. Doug’s in a bad way. When I left him, he was going to call their daughter and tell her about Ashley’s death. I just thought it might help if he had someone around for a bit—until Signe arrives.”

  Susan stood up, any idea of going to bed evaporating. “Of course. I wasn’t even thinking about Signe. I’ll leave a note for Jed—in case he wakes up—and go right over.”

  “Thanks. I know Doug’s had enough of police in the past few months, so I didn’t want to barge in, but I hate the thought of him being alone.”

  “I’ve got to get back to my family. The kids will be late for Sunday school if I don’t hurry, but I’ll be free in a few hours. Shall I come back over?” Kathleen asked.

  “Sounds good to me,” Susan answered.

  “Fine. And I’ll look around in my closet and see if I can find that knitting.” Kathleen winked at her friend as the three of them left the kitchen.

  “You knit?” Brett asked, obviously surprised.

  Susan was a loyal friend. “Kathleen is a wonderful knitter,” she lied.

  “Well, what do you know. You women have hidden talents.”

  The three friends split up in the driveway, Brett offering Kathleen a ride home in his police car, and Susan heading straight across the lawn to the Markses’ house.

  The first thing Ashley Marks had done after she and Doug moved into the house had been to hire an expensive designer from New York City. The decorator had examined every inch of the large 1930s colonial and decided on what he called the European touch. Apparently when he thought of Europe he thought of crumbling castles rather than Scandinavian modern. After refinishing the golden oak floors and staining them black, he’d had the walls painted ochre and had hung heavy layers of ugly purple velvet at the windows. All the furniture—and there was a lot of it—was ornate and artificially aged. Susan thought the place looked awful. But when Ashley was arrested, the decorating scheme had proven its worth. Once the curtains were closed, no one, from nosy neighbors to the dozens of press people, had been able to peer into the house.

  She wasn’t surprised to find the curtains drawn again this morning. She picked up the heavy brass door knocker, which was shaped like an urn, and let it drop. The hollow clunk that action produced seemed unlikely to attract the attention of anyone inside.