Assisted Murder (A Moose River Mystery Book 6) Read online

  I jumped in front of her. “Gloria! No!”

  She stopped and looked at me, and I shrank back. She was utterly terrifying when she was mad.

  “Let me go talk to her,” I said. “Please. You don't want a repeat of the other night, right? Remember how you apologized for that when I first got here tonight? For your fight with Vivian. Let’s not have to go through that again.”

  She was all twitchy, like she was going to lose it, but at least she wasn’t tearing after Esther.

  “Take a couple of deep breaths,” I told her. “Sit with your mother. Let me go out and talk to her.” I looked at Grandma Billie. “And you be nice to her,” I warned.

  Grandma Billie's eyes widened and held her hands up. “What'd I do?”

  “Be right back,” I said and trotted off down the hallway. I didn’t want to give Gloria a chance to change her mind.

  Esther was halfway down the drive when I got outside. She turned around when she heard the door and confusion swept over her face. I held up a hand that I hoped she would take as a friendly wave rather than telling her to halt.

  She slowed in the driveway and I caught up to her.

  “I'm not going back in there,” Esther said. “I'm serious. I'm done being taken for granted by her and the band.”

  “I understand,” I said, nodding. “I'm not here to stop you, I promise.”

  “You're not?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not my place, not my fight.”

  I wanted to add “Not my circus” but refrained.

  “Oh,” she said, still skeptical. “Look, I just can't keep doing everything she wants me to do for free, especially when I can get paid to do it by someone else.”

  “That doesn't sound wrong to me,” I said.

  “She's been telling me for weeks now that I'd be getting paid for this,” Esther continued. “I took her at her word. I set up a Facebook page. I set up their Twitter. An Instagram page. I didn’t know anything about social media, but I learned it. For them. I've handled their bookings, picked up their new equipment; I've literally done everything but play in the darn band!” She paused. “So when Alice approached me, I said yes without thinking.”

  “Alice?”

  “Alice. The lead singer of The Elderly Elvises.”

  The rival band. “Ah.”

  “They play basically the same stuff as The GG's,” she explained. “They are rivals. They compete for bookings and shows. Alice came to me one night after a GG show and asked if I did their social media stuff. When I told her I did, she asked if I'd set some things up for them. And she offered to pay me upfront.” She shrugged. “I'd been waiting to get paid from Gloria and I could use some extra cash, so I said yes. She liked what I did and she asked if I'd manage their stuff. I've been doing it for the last few weeks. She asked me a few days ago to be their full-time manager. I told her I had to think about it. I didn't want to just bail out on Gloria. I have some loyalty.”

  Esther seemed reasonable. All of her points made sense. I was actually surprised that she didn't say yes on the spot, considering what she'd told me.

  “And, I understand,” Esther said. It was like the dam had burst, because words were just pouring from her mouth. “The GG's don't make much money, so it's not like they're being greedy or something. But I do a lot of work and promises kept being made with no follow-thru.” She shook her head. “Yesterday, Alice came to me and said she needed an answer. They are super busy and they want someone to handle everything for them. If I couldn't do it, she was going to look for someone else. I asked her to give me a couple more days to decide.” She pointed toward the house. “What happened in there just helped me make my decision. I'm saying yes.”

  I couldn't begrudge her any of that. “I understand.”

  She winced, like she was in pain. “I mean, this isn't easy for me. I've been friends with Gloria for a long time. I like her. I really do. But the recreation director job doesn't pay a whole lot and if I'm spending my time doing other things, I need to get paid for them, especially if someone is willing to pay me.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “It really does. I don't blame you.”

  “I hope you'll tell her that,” she said. She smoothed her blouse, then wiped her hands down the front of her slacks. “I know she's going to be angry with me, but I hope you'll tell her that. That I do like her and that I do consider her a friend.”

  “I will.”

  “I mean, not many people stood by her with the thing with Agnes,” she said. “But I did.”

  “Thing with Agnes?” I asked.

  She looked toward the street for a moment before turning back to me. “I don't know if you've heard, but she kind of got caught up in a mess with Agnes and Irv.”

  “Are you talking about the Facebook messages?” I asked. I didn’t add the stealing Agnes’s boyfriend part.

  She nodded. “So you have heard. Well, everyone around here felt the need to choose up sides and most everyone came down on Agnes's side, even though no one really liked her. Agnes got the story out first and made Gloria look pretty bad.” She shook her head, like she couldn't believe she was telling this story again. “I didn't know what went on, but I knew Agnes and she wasn't a terribly nice person. Gloria was my friend, so I stuck up for her.”

  It sounded to me like Esther had been a better friend to Gloria than maybe Gloria deserved. Unless she was putting on a great show, I believed Esther Quiddle.

  She sighed and pulled a pair of keys from her purse. “I need to go,” she said. “I'll still plan on doing the party tomorrow. I'm not going to bail out or anything like that. I'll be there and it'll be set up.” She rolled her eyes. “And I'll go get the mic for her, too. But then I'm done.”

  “If you think it would be better, I can do that,” I told her. “I mean, if it would be better for you to stay away from Gloria.”

  She shook her head. “No. I'm a big girl. Gloria and I are going to have to learn how to get along.”

  That might've been the most adult sentence I'd heard uttered in Apple Lake since we'd gotten there. I admired Esther for at least trying to be the bigger person. I wasn't sure she'd succeed but I liked that she was attempting to do something that no one else seemed capable of doing.

  “Can I ask you one thing before you go?” I said.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you have any idea about who might've killed Agnes?” I asked. “And I only ask because Gloria seems to be their main suspect. I know you aren't a fan of hers right now, but I'm just trying to find a way to help my husband's aunt.”

  She looked toward the house for a moment, then shook her head. “I have no idea. I don't for a second think Gloria did it. I may have my own issues with her, and she might have a crazy temper, but I'd bet everything I had that she didn't do it.”

  “What about…Irv?” I asked.

  Esther repositioned her purse. “Irv? He’s a no-good two-timer, as far as I’m concerned, but he wouldn’t physically hurt a fly. Cheat on them? In a heartbeat. But murder? Not ever.”

  I watched her walk to her car across the street. I had a feeling that The GG's were going to miss Esther more than they realized. She was probably worth whatever Gloria should've paid her.

  And I had a feeling that Esther was right about one thing. Gloria did have a crazy temper.

  But there was something I disagreed with her on, something that made my stomach queasy and my head hurt.

  Because I was getting close to the point of betting everything I had that Gloria was involved in Agnes’ murder.

  And I wasn’t a betting person.

  THIRTY

  “Your aunt is not a terribly popular person,” I said.

  Jake and I were in bed. I'd gone back into Gloria's house but she wasn't in the mood to talk. Besides, she had to get Billie back to her place because, this time, she really had fallen asleep in her wheelchair. So I'd left and walked back to our rental and thought about all that had happened during my visit to the house. Jake was busy usheri
ng kids out of the pool and into showers, along with fielding emails about work. I’d taken over kid duty and an hour later, we had them sequestered in their rooms and he and I were lying in our own bed, cooling off beneath the ceiling fan.

  “I'm starting to get that feeling,” he said, stretching his full frame out beneath the sheets.

  It was the perfect opening. I'd already recounted some of what had gone on at Gloria's. He'd listened, winced at his grandmother's commentary, and chuckled at the name of the rival band. But I hadn’t expounded much on what Esther had said.

  “I’m starting to get a feeling, too,” I told him.

  “Oh?” He turned on his side so he was facing me. “About what?”

  “Whether or not she did it,” I admitted. “I mean, we just keep hearing all these stories about how she's not the nicest person in the world. And I don't know if it's all true, but I feel like some of it has to be.”

  He flipped on to his back, tucked his hands behind his head, and stared upward. “But let's go back to your favorite word. Motive. Why would Gloria have wanted Agnes dead?”

  “The complaining about the band? The things she said about Irv?”

  He frowned. He didn’t look like he was buying what I was selling. “How does that make Gloria's life any better?”

  “She wouldn't have to listen to her complain anymore,” I said. “And she's out of the way.”

  “She was already out of the way,” Jake pointed out. “Gloria had Irv. And, apparently, Oscar, too.”

  We both shuddered.

  “Maybe she still wanted to get back at her, though,” I said. “For all of the trouble she caused.”

  “So she set up some complicated scenario and killed her?” His frown deepened. “I just don't see that.”

  I didn't either, really, but I thought it was at least worth considering.

  “I feel like Irv had more motive,” he said thoughtfully. “Those Facebook posts were terrible. That would make anyone mad enough to do something stupid. And he of all people certainly seems capable of doing something stupid.”

  I shifted so that my foot was tucked between Jake’s calves. “Yeah, but it seems like he has an alibi. He wasn't around when it happened, remember?” I’d recounted Gloria’s story of him going to look at cars.

  “Maybe he hired a hitman,” he suggested.

  “Stop.”

  “Well, I don't have a good answer for you,” he said. “I really don't. And as weird as all this is, I don't want it to ruin our trip. Because I am a heartless robot who wants to spend time with his wife.”

  I smiled. “You are a heartless robot.”

  “I know, I really am,” he said, nodding. “But I’m just not that invested in this. I barely know Gloria. She's my aunt, sure, but it's not like I've spent tons of time with her. Garrett and I are kind of close, but that happened when we were teens, and it wasn’t like she was ever around a whole lot. I don't feel like I really have a relationship with her. Does that mean I want her to go to jail?” He shook his head. “No. But I just want to go to the party tomorrow and finish our trip and spend time with you.”

  “Then why am I so invested?” I said. “She isn’t even related to me.”

  He rolled toward me and gathered me in his arms. He smelled like spiced soap and the scented lotion he always used on his face, and it felt like home. “Because it's what you do. You see everyone as if they need rescuing. And because she's my aunt, you feel even more of a responsibility to try and help her. Which is a lovely thing to do.” He gave me a gentle squeeze, his hands warm and firm on my back. “But you can't save everyone. Sometimes, the world is going to happen without assistance from Daisy Savage.”

  I knew he was right, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

  “Fine,” I said, reaching over and switching off the light. “I will try to not save everyone.”

  “That will be impossible for you.”

  “I meant here. In Florida. Your aunt. I will let it go.”

  He laughed and kissed my cheek. “No you won't. But it's nice to hear you say you'll try.”

  “I won't save anyone at the party tomorrow.” It sounded like a declaration, even to my own ears.

  “Seriously, you really shouldn't,” he said. “It has the potential to be one big trash fire. Old people fighting, clandestine sex. Who knows what might happen while we're there?”

  “Shh,” I said. “If you say those things, they just might happen. You know, the power of words and intentions.”

  He grinned. “Okay, I’ll switch to talking about moving down here when we’re older. Do you think it’ll be like this when we move here? Or will we be old and boring?”

  “Who said anything about moving down here?”

  “I did,” he said. “Sleepy Beachy Time.”

  “I’ll have to fight off hordes of women,” I said. “They’re already eyeing you up. Just think what it’ll be like twenty years from now.”

  He smothered me with a hug and brought his mouth close to my ear.

  “You won’t have to fight off hordes of anything,” he whispered, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “I’m all yours. For as long as you want me.”

  THIRTY ONE

  “It appears that I've forgotten to bring a shirt,” Will said.

  I was standing at the mirror, trying to get my earring in. “What?”

  “A dress shirt,” he said. “One with a collar. I forgot to bring one.”

  It was the next morning and we were in party prep mode. The two younger girls got up early so they could swim beforehand. Jake ran out to get the cake and then we both sat in the lounge chairs with our coffee while they splashed around. Emily was also up early, knowing that she'd need a minimum of four hours to properly present herself to the world, and Will had slept in. I'd gotten him up for breakfast and sent everyone on their way to get ready for the party. I'd showered, pulled on my sundress, and was just finishing doing my hair when he sheepishly showed up in the bathroom doorway.

  “How on earth did you forget to bring one?” I asked. “I asked you three different times if you had one and you assured me, complete with eyerolls, that you had. Now you're telling me you don't.”

  “I don't know,” he mumbled, sticking his bare toe into the carpeting. “I really thought I had my blue one. But I just went through everything and I can't find it. It's not there.”

  “We don't have time to run to the store,” I told him.

  “So should I just wear a T-shirt?” he asked hopefully. “Or what?”

  I was about to tell him he had to go shirtless so he would have to endure an afternoon's worth of ridicule when Jake walked into the room and tossed a red polo shirt at him.

  “It's mine,” he said. “It'll be big on you, but you can wear it.”

  “It's gonna be way bigger on me,” Will complained. “It's gonna look like a dress. You're way bigger than I am.”

  “Oh well,” I said. “Go put it on. And brush your hair for the first time on this trip, too.”

  He sighed and sulked off.

  “Thank you,” I said as Jake scooted past me into the closet. “I didn't think he should wear a Captain America T-shirt to your grandmother's birthday party.”

  “I think I packed it because, subconsciously, I assumed he'd forget his,” he said.

  Emily stomped into the bedroom. “Mom! Will is in my bathroom!”

  “You don't have a bathroom,” I said, finally getting the silver earring into my ear. “This is a rental house. It doesn't belong to us.”

  “You know what I mean!” she said. Her hair was bundled in a messy ponytail and, despite the fact she’d been up for hours, she still looked as though she’d just rolled out of bed. “I still have to finish getting ready. I'm not done. My eyeliner is not done and I have to curl my hair and I have to figure out my perfume and I can't do all of that with him in there. Make him get out.”

  I took a deep breath. “I will not. You're sharing a bathroom. It’ll
take him all of ten minutes to get his hair brushed and teeth brushed. Then he'll be out and you can go back to making it your own personal salon.”

  “I don't have an extra ten minutes!” she wailed.

  I made a shooing motion. “Go away and figure it out.”

  She groaned and stalked off.

  Jake materialized from the closet. “Things appear to be going smoothly.”

  I frowned at him. “Stop it.” I found the other earring on the counter and popped it in. “Any word from your parents?”

  “Nothing,” he said, and I saw the worry flash in his eyes. Jake didn’t have the same kind of relationship with his parents that I did with mine. Months would go by before he talked to them, and they rarely visited. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about them, especially when we knew they were potentially stranded in a foreign country.

  “I’m sure everything is fine.” I tried to sound reassuring.

  “I’m sure it is,” he agreed. He buttoned up his light blue dress shirt and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. “You look terrific, by the way.”

  I'd found a flower print sundress before we'd left Minnesota and to my surprise, it both fit and was on sale. I hadn't realized that sundresses were the Florida uniform, but I was pleased that I would fit in, and I was even more pleased that my arms and legs were no longer the color of a snowperson's.

  “Thank you,” I said, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I can't believe the week is almost up.”

  “I know,” he said. “We should've stayed an extra day. I would've liked to take a trip out to the beach.”

  “Next time,” I said.

  “Sure. In, like, three years. Or when we come back for my aunt's arraignment.”

  I poked him in the chest. “Don't say that.”

  “Why? You’re the one who thinks she did it.”

  I was about to argue when Grace came bounding into our room and hopped up on the bed. Her hair still needed to be brushed but she was in her dress, a pretty purple one with white polka dots.

  “Mom!” Her eyes flashed with excitement. “Will you hold the money?”