Irregardless of Murder (Miss Prentice Cozy Mysteries) Page 9

  I was only a few cars away now.

  “That’s Lily Burns, isn’t it?” I asked the white-jacketed young man who barred my way.

  “Don’t know her name.” He held up his hand, palm out. “Stay back, ma’am, and let him work.”

  “Let who work?”

  There was no answer. The crewman’s attention seemed elsewhere, but when I attempted to squirm around him, large hands gripped my shoulders and restrained me.

  “He knows what he’s doing, ma’am,” he kept repeating. “We gotta stay back.”

  “He?” I stood on tiptoe and caught sight of a flash of shiny yellow. No one was talking now. The only sound was the whipping of the wind in my ears.

  All at once I heard a cough, then a retching sound. A happy collective murmur spread through the crowd. There was a smattering of applause. The crowd parted and I stepped forward to see Lily’s small, crumpled form stirring once more to life.

  The one who had revived her sat back on his heels, scratched his scruffy head, and beamed at me.

  It was Professor Alexander Alexander.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “It was Providence, dear lady,” insisted Alec. “The poor mite was out there, flailing away desperately when I caught sight of her. I knew right away who it was. She must have just gone down for the third time, as it were, when the lads fetched her out.” He waved away my gratitude and smiled down at the stretcher where Lily lay, shivering and unnaturally quiet.

  “Gracious Providence,” he repeated, rolling his r’s gently. “There’s just no other explanation. I was tempted, remember, to remain in your pleasant company, but something compelled me to go out at that moment and scan the waves.” He shrugged and ran a knuckle under one eye. “Providence,” he repeated gruffly and ambled away.

  It was just a few minutes to the Vermont side, where an ambulance was waiting. As I began to climb in the back with Lily, she crooked a trembling finger at me. I leaned close to her face.

  “Don’t look so worried. I’ll be all right,” she said hoarsely. “You go on to the sale.” Her hand, very cold and still a little damp, patted mine.

  “No, Lily! I’m going with you.” I pulled the blanket down at the end of the stretcher. One of her stockinged feet had been sticking out. I hoped it was just my imagination that it looked a bit blue.

  “Nonsense!” she snapped, and my heart lifted a little to hear the spirit returning to her voice. “Come back up here where I can see you!”

  I obeyed and her voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You need to drive my car off that boat and I’m going to need a nightie. They’re taking me to the hospital.” She looked around her. “Where’s my purse?” she wailed weakly and grabbed my arm. “Oh, no! It’s at the bottom of the lake!” She tried to rise on one elbow, but an attendant restrained her.

  A long arm bearing the bag in question thrust in the ambulance door. “I found it on the deck,” said Vern. “Dry as a bone.” He withdrew into the crowd.

  Flat on her back, Lily fumbled in the bag for her car keys and a credit card. She handed them to me and, clutching the bag to her breast, ordered, “Run along now.” Her voice was gaining strength with use. “Come see me at the hospital in a little while once I’ve gotten cleaned up. And tell that tall kid thanks. Remember,” she called as I backed out of the ambulance, “pale pink. Size eight, petite. Or small. Whichever they have—” The ambulance door slammed shut.

  “Don’t worry, Ma’am, your friend’ll be okay,” the attendant assured me. “We see all kinds in this job, and this one’s a keeper.”

  “Did they find her shoes?” I asked. “They’re alligator and—”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “Must have come off in the lake.” He climbed in the front seat and the ambulance pulled away.

  Poor Lily. She loved those shoes.

  Vern walked up to me, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Need the keys. We gotta get her car off the ferry. They can’t load up for the return trip till we do.”

  I handed them over and he bounded away.

  I found a bench near the ticket booth and waited, shivering, for Vern to return with the car.

  Someone walked up and stood before me. “Miss Prentice, how is Mrs. Burns?”

  I looked up at Sally Jennings. “She’s going to be fine, we think.”

  “Oh, what a relief. I was just telling Steve—Mr. Trechere, would you come over here?” She waved over her dark-haired companion from the ferry. “This is the lady whose house I’ve been telling you about.”

  Steve Trechere looked down at me where I sat, switched his cigarette to his left hand and reached out to shake my right. His overcoat was draped jauntily over his shoulders and he wore a chunky diamond pinky ring and an expensive-looking watch. Suave was the word for Steve Trechere. With his curly dark hair and chiseled cheekbones, he reminded me of an abbreviated Louis Jourdan.

  Though he looked me straight in the eye, I sensed that his mind was somewhere else. “Good t’ know you,” he said, with a slight French-Canadian accent.

  “Steve’s from Montreal,” Sally explained, “but he’s got some business interests locally. I’m just introducing him around.”

  “Oh, ah, yes,” I said. Then this was Sally’s very eager buyer. The Millionaire from Montreal. Sounded like an old Betty Grable movie. He was probably going to try to persuade me to sell my house.

  I looked around helplessly. Where was Vern?

  Trechere glanced at his watch. He turned to Sally. “Look, I’m afraid we gotta—” he said just as she began to sympathize with me.

  “You’ve been through the mill, lately, haven’t you, Amelia?”

  Her solicitude caused me to touch my bandage. My head wasn’t hurting, I noticed with relief.

  Sally patted my shoulder. “First finding Marguerite LeBow like that and now this.”

  At the mention of Marguerite’s name, Trechere whirled back in my direction and fastened a piercing look on my face.

  “What’s this? Who’d you find?” he demanded, his dark brows tightening over his eyes.

  “Just a local tragedy, Steve,” Sally explained. “Drugs are a terrible curse in this country,” she said and sighed. “I’m sure it must be better in Canada, right?”

  “And you’re the one who found this person?” Trechere asked. His scowl was unnerving.

  “No. Actually, I fell over her.” I shuddered. “It was terrible. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not—”

  “Oh, of course, Amelia,” Sally cut in. “We’ll get back with you later. Steve? Are you ready to go? Our appointment at the bank is in fifteen minutes.”

  Trechere continued to stare at me. I looked away, but as I did, I had a fleeting thought. The night of Marguerite’s death, Lily had collided with a short, dark-haired man rushing out of the library. I hadn’t gotten a very good look at him. I wondered if Lily had.

  “Steve?” Sally asked again.

  “Eh? Ah, yes. Excuse us, please,” he said to me, and his face relaxed. “It is very important, this appointment.”

  He smiled and the sense of menace faded immediately. He was charming, no doubt about it. And familiar, somehow. Probably because I’ve seen him—or his taller, older brother—in the movies. As he backed away apologetically, I found myself wanting to tell him he was wonderful in Gigi.

  I watched them climb into Sally’s sports car. Steve Trechere was an attractive man, but if he was interested in buying my house, I wasn’t anxious to meet him again soon.

  Lily’s car swung around the corner and halted with a jerk. “You ready, Amelia? Hop in!” Vern leaned out and opened the passenger door. “Where to? The hospital?” he asked as I complied.

  “Not just yet. I need to go to JJ Peasemarsh first. It’ll be a mob scene, but Lily needs a few things. I know the way.”

  “That’s good. I don’t know my way around this town all that well.”

  “Then why were you riding the ferry?”

  He grinned. “To keep an eye on you. Boss’s orders.” He pul
led out into traffic.

  “Gil?” I wasn’t really surprised. In fact, I was very pleased. “But you said you didn’t see him.”

  Vern shrugged. “Forgive me. I fudged a little. He left me a note in the kitchen this morning. Said to look after you.”

  “And just why would I need looking after?”

  “I didn’t know at first, but now I do.” He pushed his hair off his forehead. It fell back over his eyes immediately.

  “You do what?”

  Vern stopped for a red light. “I know that what happened to Lily wasn’t any accident. And that you were the one supposed to fall overboard.” He punctuated his words by poking my shoulder with a long forefinger.

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Think about it. You were both wearing the same color raincoats. They look alike, you know.”

  “They are identical,” I agreed.

  “And you gave her your scarf. It must have looked like you climbed the stairs, then turned around and came back. And, no offense, Amelia—” The light turned green and he moved the car forward. “But one small lady in a raincoat and babushka looks a lot like another one.”

  “I don’t know, Vern. After all, the deck was wet, and Lily was wearing high heels. She could have—”

  “Not with that high railing along the side, she couldn’t’ve! Not without help. Okay, sure, if she was standing over by the chain at the bow, but—”

  I gasped. “I was standing by that chain!”

  “I know. I was watching you. In fact, I was so close, I could have pushed you overboard myself.” He braked suddenly and rebuked another driver, “Easy, easy! There’s room for everybody, buddy. Whew! This traffic’s getting wild.”

  “But Vern, it doesn’t make sense. I don’t know anyone who would want to hurt me. Or Lily, either.”

  “Gil thinks it has something to do with Marguerite. After all, Marie’s disappeared, hasn’t she?”

  I hadn’t an answer for that one. I kept picturing myself falling under the front of the moving ferryboat. If I were to be sucked into the wake of the propeller, even Alec couldn’t revive what was left of me.

  “Who was that you were talking to at the dock?” Vern asked. “He looked familiar.”

  “Ever see Gigi?”

  “See who?”

  “Never mind. His name’s Steve Trechere. The Millionaire from Montreal, so-called. Sally’s been taking him all over town this week,” I said. I explained what Lily had told me about the proposed plans for the houses on my street.

  Vern seemed impressed. “Could be a good thing for the community. You going to take him up on it? It might mean a nice little hunk of cash. You could get yourself one of those cool condos over behind the mall. Careful, lady!” He braked suddenly for an unwary pedestrian.

  I explained to Vern in no uncertain terms what I thought of trading my ancestral home for a condo, however cool it might be. He held up a hand defensively. “Hey, it’s none of my business. Gil told me you’re a little obsessive on the subject.”

  I bristled. “I have no doubt Gil told you a good deal about me. I suggest you reserve judgment until you know it all.”

  “Hey, I’m cool.” Vern grinned at me. His ability to change moods on a dime could be irritating. “Y’know what I’m gonna do?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m going to reserve judgment.”

  “Good.”

  “Until I know it all.”

  “Even better,” I said dryly, watching for the next turn. I tried not to smile.

  All at once, a familiar figure in a green and yellow jacket emerged from one of the shops and began walking rapidly along the sidewalk away from us.

  I grabbed the steering wheel and pounded desperately on the horn with my left fist. “Vern! Stop the car! Turn around. It’s Marie LeBow! Did you see her?”

  At the sound of the horn, Marie glanced vaguely over her shoulder, but continued walking. In a few seconds, she would be out of sight.

  Vern exploded with a brief, blasphemous phrase. “Don’t ever do that again! You nearly killed us both!” He was shaking with anger.

  “But it’s Marie! I saw her over there!” I pointed to the spot where she had melted into the crowd. “Pull over! Do something! I’ve got to catch up with her!”

  “In all this traffic? Are you out of your mind? All I can do is turn at the next corner and go around the block.”

  I agreed meekly. Vern was too angry to press further.

  Traffic was as congested on the side street as on the main thoroughfare. Everyone, it seemed, had the same idea about shopping at JJ Peasemarsh.

  We were fortunate that Vern had had some heavy-duty driving experience. Even so, it took at least five minutes and some aggressive merging to get around the block and approach the spot where I had last seen Marie.

  “Look for a green and yellow parka,” I instructed Vern, pointing. “She was headed that way.”

  Cruising along the street at five miles per hour, jammed in traffic, and scanning the ever-shifting crowd, we spotted perhaps six green jackets and at least four yellow ones. There were many other color combinations as well, but the only green and yellow coat we could find was on an infant in a stroller.

  “Unless she’s a master of disguise,” Vern cracked, his good spirits returning, “I don’t suppose that could be Marie.”

  We were nearing the JJ Peasemarsh parking lot. I sighed. “Come on, Vern, let me run my errand, and we’ll head on over to the hospital.”

  Finding a parking space at JJ Peasemarsh was tricky at the best of times, but the annual giant pre-Halloween Fall Bonanza Sale was always widely advertised and heavily attended.

  “There’s one!” I cried, pointing to a space just ahead.

  “No, it’s not. There’s a car in it.”

  “But look, that woman’s about to get in and drive away.”

  “You think so?” Vern put on the brakes, and we waited for a harried-looking shopper to drop her burdens, paw through her purse for keys, load up, climb in, and back out of the much-coveted space.

  “Come on, come on,” Vern muttered.

  Behind us, the logjam of increasingly irritated drivers moved forward as we turned in the empty spot. I could almost hear the grumbling behind the rolled-up windows.

  As I emerged from Lily’s car, I caught another glimpse of green and yellow through the front door of the store. I slammed the car door and set out briskly towards JJ Peasemarsh. As I did, it occurred to me that I was getting awfully tired of walking among parked cars.

  “Hey! Wait up!” Vern called.

  “I saw her again!” I said over my shoulder.

  “Then don’t lose her!” he called back.

  Marie, if that’s who it was, had disappeared into the store. I was two car rows away from the entrance, moving rapidly with Vern close on my heels, when a car door opened in front of us, effectively blocking our way. I stopped abruptly, and Vern slammed into my back, causing a mild contusion to my ankle and no doubt an irreparable hole in my hose, but there was no time and no room to examine the damage.

  We were about to turn around and take an alternate route when a blue-gray head emerged from the driver’s seat.

  “Why, Amelia,” said Judith Dee, smiling in her warm, grandmotherly way, “are you here for the sale, too?”

  Vern snorted impatiently. I poked him with my elbow and greeted her in what Dad used to call Mother’s Sunday dinner voice. “Hello, Judith. Yes, we are.”

  Judith stepped forward, lifted my bangs, and examined my bandage. “Any better?”

  I smiled and nodded. “Getting there.”

  Suddenly, she grabbed my wrist and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Did you hear what happened to Lily Burns?”

  “Yes, I did.” I tried to rearrange my purse on my arm so she would let go, but her grip only tightened.

  “How do you think it happened?” Judith glanced over both shoulders. “I’ve heard she likes a drink now and then. Her father had that live
r, you know.”

  “No way!” said an outraged Vern. “It wasn’t even nine, and all she had was a cup of coffee!”

  Judith’s hand went limp and slid, snakelike, off my arm. Her eyes widened as her attention shifted to Vern.

  “Were you there?”

  “Er, um, well,” he said. “You know, I’ve got a really important call to make. Excuse me. Catch you inside, Amelia.” He loped away toward a phone booth in front of the building.

  “Vern and I both happened to be on the ferryboat this morning, that’s all. We didn’t really see it happen.” Which was true, as far as it went.

  “Have you heard any more about what happened to poor Marguerite?” Her eyebrows knit together sadly.

  I shrugged. “No. You know as much as I do.”

  “You taking good care of that wound?”

  I laughed and waved vaguely at my head. “Trying to.”

  “Well, let me know if you need anything for pain.”

  “Sure will.”

  How on earth was I going to get away and continue my search for Marie? Should I enlist Judith’s help? Right away, I discarded the idea. It would take up too much time in explanation, for one thing.

  “Listen, Judith . . . ” I began my departure speech.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” she said, patting my arm. “I’m going to have to run along now. I’ve got a long shopping list.” She patted her purse and walked away.

  “What kind of place is this anyway?” Vern asked as I joined him at the front of the store. We took our place in line at the entrance turnstiles.

  “It started out as a factory outlet store for Peasemarsh Brothers of Boston. You know, the suit manufacturers.” I had to raise my voice over the din of the crowd.

  Vern shrugged.

  “It was before your time, I suppose. Well, they’re out of the suit business now. Anyway, they started with just men’s suits, but later began carrying seconds from all kinds of companies: work clothes, lingerie, even shoes and formals. At least half the evening dresses at our high school prom come from here, though the girls would rather die than admit it.”

  I spotted determined-looking Hester Swanson in line several rows over. “There’s someone I’ll bet knows where all the real bargains are.” I waved.