Murder Among Crows Page 3

  “How long have you lived in Twin Ponds, Mr. Gardiner?”

  “Please, call me Aubrey. My wife and I have only been here a little over two months. We bought the lovely Jepson farm about ten miles outside of town.”

  “How long had you lived in Mategwas?”

  “About six years. Before you ask, I moved here because I was attracted to the Jepson farm. I was flipping through one of those real estate magazines you find at the grocery store when I saw the farm. I know this may sound a little juvenile, but I’ve always had a dream of owning a farm. In fact, over the years I created an image of what my dream farmhouse would look like. Imagine my surprise when I saw the picture of the Jepson farm and realized it looked exactly what I’d dreamed up in my imagination. It felt like fate to me. So I bought it.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  He gave her a strange look, as if she’d asked him if he talked to aliens. Not sure why he looked so perplexed, she repeated the question.

  “I’m a writer,” he explained. “I’m the creator of Magic Calico.” His smug expression faltered when he saw the blank look on Cammie’s face. “Oh I get it,” he suddenly laughed. “You’re trying to ease the tension by teasing me. I’ll have to use that technique in one of my future stories.”

  Cammie inwardly shrugged and continued her questioning. “Did Poppie make it a habit of going out alone to birdwatch?”

  “Poppie was very single minded in her pursuit of catching sight of rare or unusual birds. If she thought she could catch a glimpse of the white crow at 2 am, she’d be out there at 2 am, no matter the weather.”

  “Do you know of anyone who would want to harm Poppie?”

  “None whatsoever. She was a kind woman.”

  “Do you know her background? Where she came from before she moved to Mategwas?”

  He shook his head. “Poppie was a very private woman. She asked no personal questions and wanted none asked of her.”

  “Do you know if she was involved with anyone?”

  “Sheriff, Poppie was not the socializing type. We came together to look at birds and that was it.”

  “When was the last time you saw Poppie?”

  “Last night. Since this was Poppie and Meredith’s first time visiting Twin Ponds, my wife and I had them over for dinner.”

  “What was her demeanor?”

  “She was excited about seeing the white crow. In fact, that was our main topic of conversation. My poor wife had to endure hours of bird talk.” He chuckled.

  “What time did she and Meredith leave your home?”

  “It was around 10:30. They left, we cleaned up and went to bed. It wasn’t until this morning when I went into town to that lovely bakery on Main Street to pick up some croissants that I heard about her murder. I was shocked to say the least. When I returned home, I found a message from your office asking me to come down here to the inn.”

  “Were you planning on meeting up with Poppie today to do some birdwatching?”

  He shook his head. “I’m up against a deadline for the latest Calico installment. If she or Meredith had sighted the white bird, I’m sure they would have informed me.” He suddenly chuckled. “In search of the white bird. Almost sounds like Moby Dick, doesn’t it? Except they were in search of the white whale. I may need to use that motif in a future book.”

  She asked him a few more questions, but he had nothing more to add.

  “Thank you for your time, Aubrey.”

  “No problem. I want to do anything and everything I can to help you find whoever killed Poppie. She was a fine woman who didn’t deserve this.”

  “Please remain in Twin Ponds in case we need to ask you anymore questions.”

  “As I said, I’m up against a deadline. I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I have no desire to bite the hand that feeds me.” Seeing her blank look, he added, “My publisher, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Jeez, what a pompous ass.

  After Aubrey left, Cammie remained seated, her instincts screaming that he hadn’t been completely honest. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that had her spider sense on full alert, but it was there, warning her something wasn’t quite right. Deciding she was going to keep a close eye on him, she got up and went into the adjoining room where she found Rick finishing up his questioning. Meredith looked washed out and utterly exhausted. She glanced up as Cammie came into the room.

  “Have you been in Poppie’s room today?” Cammie asked.

  The woman shook her head. “I couldn’t bring myself to go in there.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to stay in Twin Ponds for a few more days, in case we have anything else we need to ask you.”

  Because this was a routine request, Cammie didn’t think twice about it. She was therefore surprised to see a look of fear flash over Meredith’s face.

  “I have to get home!” she blurted out.

  “If you have pets, we can arrange to have your neighbors take care of them.”

  “It’s not that. I – I simply must get home.”

  “Do you need some kind of medication you may have left at home? We can also arrange to--” Cammie noticed Meredith nervously wringing her hands. She came over and placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder, unprepared to feel how badly the woman was shaking. “Is it the bill for the inn?” Cammie guessed. Meredith shook her head. Cammie and Rick exchanged confused looks.

  “I’m sure you want to do all you can to help catch your friend’s killer,” Rick tried. “But we can’t do that without your help. And the only way we can get your help is if you’re here and available.”

  “I’ve told you all I know. I can’t think of how much more I can be of help.”

  Cammie felt she was losing Meredith. For reasons that seemed highly suspicious to the experienced officer, Meredith was hellbent on getting home. Yet, she had to be honest with the frightened woman. She leaned over and made Meredith look at her. “I don’t want to scare you, but at this point in the investigation, we can’t be sure Poppie was the only intended target.” Meredith’s eyes widened in horror. “Until we can unravel what happened, it would be safer for you to stay here, at least for a few days more.”

  There was a long hesitation before Meredith finally gave a very reluctant nod.

  Cammie withdrew the photograph of Poppie and the teenager from her pocket and showed it to Meredith. “Have you seen this photograph before?”

  She looked at it and nodded. “All the time. Poppie was in the habit of taking it out and stroking it with her fingers whenever she thought none of us were looking.”

  “Do you know who this is?”

  “It’s her daughter, Hannah.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “Yes. She accidentally dropped the photo to the floor one day. I picked it up and asked who it was.” She paused. “Now that I think of it, she appeared to be regretful in some way that she’d even told me that tiny bit of information.”

  “Do you know what happened to Hannah?”

  She shook her head. “Poppie would never say. And to tell the truth, I never asked. I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Whenever I saw her looking at the photo, she had such a look of immense sadness and grief on her face that I knew I couldn’t add to it by asking what happened. Sometimes she’d say things though that made me guess Hannah had died.”

  “What sort of things?” Rick asked.

  “My uncle died last year. When I told her, she got this faraway look in her eyes and told me that losing someone you loved deeply was a terrible thing. If you weren’t careful, a loss like that could make you lose your mind.” She cleared her throat and looked up at Cammie. “You’re going to need someone to officially identify Poppie’s body, aren’t you?” Taken aback by the question, Cammie nodded. “I’d like to do that.”

  Cammie was surprised by the request. She’d already sized up Meredith as a highly strung, nervous type who looked as though she w
ere ready to pass out at any minute. She couldn’t imagine what the sight of Poppie’s corpse would do to her. “I can get Aubrey to do it,” the sheriff suggested.

  “No,” she said, her tone suddenly insistent. “I’ll do it. It’s the least I can do for Poppie.”

  “I’ll let you know when the autopsy is complete.”

  Meredith stood up. “May I go now? I’d like to go to my room and lie down. It’s been a very difficult day.”

  “Of course. If you’d like, my deputy can accompany you--”

  “That’s quite alright,” she interrupted. She turned and left the room.

  “Is it me or were the last few minutes completely whacked?” Rick asked. “One minute she looks as though she’d about to have a nervous breakdown, then the next minute she’s actually insisting on identifying her friend’s body. Doing that would definitely give me nightmares.”

  “What I’d like to know is why she was so insistent she had to return home?”

  Rick smiled. “Nice little touch about making her think she might be next on the killer’s hit list.”

  “I was simply being honest. We just don’t have enough information yet to rule that possibility out. How did your interview go with her?”

  Rick shared the details of their talk. He’d asked many of the same questions Cammie had, receiving the same answers. When he was done, she fell into a contemplative silence.

  “Man, I can hear the wheels turning in your head from here,” Rick exclaimed.

  She told him about her interview with Aubrey. “He’s hiding something. I can feel it. But damned if I know what it is.”

  “He’s certainly not what I expected.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You know Aubrey Gardiner?”

  “Shit Cammie, you’ve got to be living under a rock not to have heard of Aubrey Gardiner.” When he saw her look of incomprehension, he threw his arms up in the air. “Come on! Aubrey Gardiner? Magic Calico?” She shook her head. “For someone who’s an expert at keeping her finger on the pulse of everything, it’s criminal that you don’t know who Magic Calico is!”

  Tudor took that moment to abruptly and dramatically sweep into the room. He stood before the two officers, his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.

  “Tudor, have you ever heard of Magic Calico?” Cammie asked.

  “Of course I have. He’s Harry Potter with whiskers and an attitude. When Magic Calico is on a case, no one messes with him. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure you didn’t disturb these rooms. I have a group of businesswomen coming in for a meeting in an hour and everything must be perfect. Now shoo!” He waved his arms at them.

  When they were out the hallway, Rick turned to Cammie. “I can’t believe we were just shooed out of a room by a fourth-rate actor.”

  “I heard that!” Tudor called out.

  “Come on, let’s go upstairs and see if Forensics found anything in Poppie’s room,” Cammie said as they made their way down the corridor. “So tell me again what the hell a Magic Calico is.”

  “He’s a cat who uses magic to solve crimes.”

  She abruptly stopped and stared at him. “A cat?”

  “A calico cat to be exact. He’s a bad ass who doesn’t take any shit from anyone. Sorta like you. Without the whiskers. And the orange and black hair. And the scary looking wand. The Calico books always debut at the top of the best seller lists. Last I heard, Hollywood was negotiating with Aubrey to make a series of movies from the Calico novels.”

  “They’re that good?”

  “My nieces and nephews absolutely adore him. They and a bazillion other kids get together to solve Magic Calico cases on Aubrey’s website.”

  “So we’re talking a lot of money here for Aubrey.”

  “A boatload.”

  They started up the stairs towards the guest rooms. “Just what kind of crime does Magic Calico solve?”

  He laughed. “We’re not talking murder here, Cam. It’s more like discovering who stole the Orb of Magnifico, which gives the power of second sight to whoever possesses it. Or the Flower of Destiny that lets you change your future. My particular favorite was the Case of the Missing Witch Apprentice. Turns out she wasn’t kidnapped. She just messed up one of the spells she was learning and disappeared for a while into another dimension. Aubrey created this whole ‘nother world with purple waterfalls and orange skies and butterflies that eat you if you rub them the wrong way.”

  Cammie stopped again. “Man eating butterflies?” she asked dubiously.

  “Don’t worry. They only eat those who deserve it. It’s sort of like karma by monarch butterfly.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No wonder Aubrey gave me such a funny look when I had no clue who Magic Calico was.”

  Rick laughed. “With the exception of lost tribes in the jungles of Borneo, you’re probably the only person on the planet who doesn’t know who Magic Calico is.”

  “Well, let’s hope we won’t need the cat and his wand to solve this particular case.” As they walked down the hallway towards Poppie’s room, Cammie added, “First thing tomorrow, I want you and Emmy to try and find out everything you can on Poppie, Meredith and Aubrey. I’m particularly interested in finding out how Hannah Beresford died, and just what brought Aubrey to Twin Ponds.”

  “You don’t believe his story about wanting a farm all his life?”

  She shook her head. “There’s more to it than that.”

  Nearing the end of the hallway, they noticed the hustle and bustle of forensic technicians scurrying in and out of Poppie’s room. She and Rick were handed booties by one of these passing technicians. “Just giving you a heads up, Sheriff,” he replied. “I don’t think you’re going to like what’s in there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Intrigued, the two officers quickly slipped on the booties over their boots. With Cammie leading the way, they stepped into the doorway where both came to an abrupt stop.

  “Whoa,” Rick mumbled under his breath.

  On the wall above the bed, scrawled over Tudor’s beautiful script depicting Portia’s mercy speech were the words, ‘Here there be monsters’.

  CHAPTER THREE

  While the team worked around them, Cammie quietly studied the wall. The words had been applied with a thick red marker, scrawled as if the writer had been in a hurry. Something about it didn’t seem right, but before she could figure it out, she heard a scream behind her. Whirling around, she saw Tudor standing in the doorway with his hand to his mouth.

  “My poor sweet Portia!” he moaned.

  Cammie hurried to him and pulled him out of the room. “You can’t be in there. You’ll contaminate the scene.”

  “It’s my room!”

  “I know it is, but if you want me to catch whoever defaced your wall, you need to let forensics do their job.”

  “I can’t believe someone would ruin her beautiful speech. It took me a week to get the writing just right.” He gave Cammie a despairing look. “I’m going to make sure whoever did this gets the death penalty!”

  “We don’t know yet if the person who wrote that is the same person who killed Poppie.”

  “Of course. And we don’t know yet if Bill Barnes will be mayor for another hundred years.”

  Tudor had a point.

  “Did you notice anyone hanging around that maybe didn’t belong?”

  He threw her a look. “The inn is completely booked. My lobby is like Grand Central Station. If the person who did this was wearing a gorilla suit, I might have noticed them.”

  “Okay,” she replied patiently. “Who cleans this room and what time is it done?”

  “That would be Mara and she’s usually here around 11 am. But she would have definitely informed me right away if she’d found that abomination.”

  “Not if she saw that.”

  Tudor looked to where Cammie was pointing and saw a Do Not Disturb sign on the door knob. He groaned. “It’s
going to cost me a fortune to have that removed and Portia’s words put back up.” With the inn booked until February, Cammie didn’t think he’d have any trouble coming up with the money. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

  Cammie looked at him. “Have you pissed off anyone lately?”

  He drew himself up and stared down his nose at her. “I am the model of professionalism. I consistently get five star reviews. Of course I didn’t piss anyone off.” He made quotation marks in the air as he said the word ‘piss’.

  “I had to ask.”

  He sniffed contemptuously. “I know it couldn’t have been Ms. Beresford.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she was obviously a woman of taste and refinement. And whatever cretin wrote that got it all wrong.” When Cammie gave him a quizzical look, he gave an impatient sigh. “It should be ‘here there be dragons’, not monsters. The lout obviously doesn’t know their history.”

  So that’s what had been troubling Cammie.

  In the early days of mapmaking, before the world had been thoroughly explored, any uncharted areas were designated with the words ‘Here There Be Dragons’ to warn the mariner of the unknown dangers they would be encountering.

  Was that what the writer of the words had done? Instead of dragons, were they trying to warn of monsters? And was that monster Poppie Beresford?

  Rick came out into the hallway and between the two of them, they finally managed to calm down the incensed innkeeper. “Why don’t you walk Tudor back to his office, then head back to HQ? I should be back sometime in the afternoon.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  After Rick and Tudor left, Cammie went in search of Mara. She found her just finishing up the last room on the third floor.

  Mara Fitzgerald was a woman in her mid-fifties who still spoke with the lilt of her native Ireland. She smiled when she saw Cammie.

  “Was that Mr. Montgomery I heard screaming a few minutes ago?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “What was it this time? Did he spill tea on his trousers or did he see a spider?”

  Cammie laughed. “A spider?”