The sky unleashed a deluge before Harriet, Tom and Lauren reached the borrowed truck, soaking them. Mavis had hot water in the thermal carafe and warm cookies cooling on a wire rack on the kitchen counter when Harriet led the soggy procession through her studio and into the kitchen.
“How did you pull off baking cookies?” Lauren asked.
“If Jorge can make toast on the stovetop, I figured I should be able to bake cookies there also.” Mavis tapped on a covered cast iron skillet. “My last batch is cooking now. Anyone care for some tea?”
“I’m about tea-ed out,” Tom said. “Have you got any coffee?”
“Sure.”
She pulled a bag of ground coffee from the freezer compartment and got a single cup and a cone-shaped filter holder from the cabinet under the counter then inserted a white filter paper into the holder.
“How strong do you like it?” she asked when she had the cone assembly balanced on a coffee mug.
“After today, I think I need a double,” he said.
Mavis put three scoops of coffee into the filter then poured hot water over the grounds.
“Anyone else?”
She made tea while Lauren took Carter out to do his business and Harriet went upstairs to change clothes. When they’d returned, they all joined her in the living room.
“Detective Morse called while you were gone,” Mavis reported. “She said she’d call back later. How did it go at the camp?”
“As bad as it can go,” Lauren said.
“Is everyone okay?” Mavis asked.
“All of us are,” Harriet answered. “Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Marjory’s brother-in-law.”
Mavis pulled Curly up onto her lap and waited.
“Richard is dead,” Harriet continued, “It happened while we were all working.”
“It looked like someone whacked him in the head pretty hard,” Tom explained.
“That could have been us,” Lauren said, realizing for the first time Richard was last seen doing the job she and Harriet had abandoned. She hugged her little dog to her chest, and he attempted to worm his way under the flannel shirt she’d put on while her sweatshirt was drying on the back of her chair in front of the fire.
“I’m pretty sure his death had nothing to do with us or our leaf-gathering.”
“And that would be why?” Lauren asked. “Did some cone of enlightenment come down from above for your ears only? Haven’t you ever learned the rules of group thinking? First you brainstorm, listing all possible ideas. Only when you have all those out do you start eliminating options. And then you need some plausible reason to do so.”
“Well, excuse me for using common sense,” Harriet shot back.
“Will you two behave?” Mavis scolded. She turned to Tom. “Perhaps you can fill me in without all the color commentary.”
“We don’t know what happened. We divided up into work groups and dispersed to do our jobs. Richard was down the trail, scooping up leaves and needles to be used on the trail to sop up mud. We were in the parking lot, cutting up branches for the same purpose, when we heard Brandy scream, and when we investigated, it turned out she’d found Richard-dead.”
“My goodness,” Mavis murmured. She shivered and tugged her knit shawl closer around her shoulders. “Who would want Richard dead?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Harriet asked. “If he was as charming to everyone else as he and his family were to Marjory, I imagine he had more than a few enemies.”
“But which enemies were at the camp with us?” Lauren asked.
“You’re assuming our group is the only possibility. We don’t know where the trail through the camp goes, or if there’s another approach to the woods from the other side of the park.”
“Score one for Harriet,” Lauren said.
“It’s a good point,” Tom agreed. “Someone could have followed Richard and his family to town. Maybe they were just waiting for an opportunity.”
“In the middle of a storm?” Harriet asked.
“Why not?” Lauren said. “It would be the perfect cover.”
“Well, Richard and Pat did seem pretty anxious to get their hands on a bunch of money for reasons unknown. Marjory even said so. They had been riding high-too good for their relative in Foggy Point, until suddenly they weren’t. They were broke and desperate for money any way they could get it, including sending Marjory to lockup.”
“So now we have two murder victims, both found at the homeless camp,” Mavis said.
“Makes you wonder what they had in common.” Harriet took a sip from her tea.
“It does seem like a bit of a coincidence,” Tom said.
“Duane could be anybody,” she mused. “We know nothing about him, other than that he was homeless and then he was dead.”
“The same could be said of Richard, it sounds like,” Tom pointed out. “By the way, Owen happens to have a roll of electrical wire that looks a lot like the wire we saw wrapped around Duane’s neck in his toolbox.”
“That’s interesting,” Harriet said.
“I guess we’ll just have to tell Detective Morse when she calls back,” Mavis said. “Anyone for more tea or coffee before I go upstairs?”
“I’d love to, but I better go check on the Renfros. They’re probably doing better than we are, but I don’t like the idea of leaving them with no way to call for help if they need it. Besides, someone has to make a dent in all the brownies they’ve stockpiled.”
“You have brownies?” Lauren’s voice took on a shrill quality.
“If you behave yourself, I might be persuaded to bring some by tomorrow.”
“Are they the cake kind or the chewy kind?”
“Chewy.”
“You’re killing me.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Tom said. “I better run. Thank you for the coffee, Mavis.”
“You come for coffee anytime,” she answered then turned to Harriet. “I might close my eyes for a few minutes. If I’m not back by the time the rest of the group arrives, would you come wake me?”
“Sure.” Harriet turned to Tom. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Lauren wrapped the tails of her shirt around Carter and pulled him close to her body again, her long hair forming a curtain around him.
“You really know how to show a guy a good time,” Tom said when they had made their way to the studio door.
“I’m really sorry about all that.”
“Hey.” He put the tips of his fingers under her chin, turning her face toward him. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” she said. “I mean, Foggy Point was a peaceful place before I moved back. Now all of a sudden there’s a crime wave.”
“But you didn’t kill anyone. As near as I can tell, you didn’t even know these two victims until this week, which is when all the rest of us met them. You can’t possibly believe you have any connection to all of this.”
“No, I know I don’t. It’s just a weird coincidence, but I find it rather creepy.”
“I think you’re thinking about it too much,” Tom said and gently pressed his lips to hers. He pulled back and looked in her face. “You’re not alone here. None of this is your responsibility.”
He pulled her into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapped around her, his chin on the top of her head. She leaned her head on his shoulder. Without conscious thought, her arms went around his waist.
He smelled like freshly cut wood. She breathed deeply.
“You smell good,” she said in a husky voice.
Tom kissed her again, this time longer, deeper. Then, he pulled away, catching her hand in his and holding it.
“If I don’t leave now, I can’t be responsible for what might happen,” he said with a rueful grin. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it, and let it go. “See you tomorrow.”
He went out the door.
The ringing phone saved Harriet from having to explain the high color on her cheeks when she came back into the living room. She was pretty sure Lauren knew the score anyway.
It’s Detective Morse, Lauren mouthed when she handed her the receiver, as if there were dozens of people calling during the storm.
“Oh, where to begin,” Harriet replied to Morse’s query how things were going. She decided to start at the action point and gave the detective a concise replay of the afternoon’s events.
“Where’s the body now?” Detective Morse asked.
“Still at the homeless camp. He’s in a sleeping bag but otherwise in the open.”
“You did the right thing, leaving him there,” Morse replied. “I’ll call the fire station and see if they can get paramedics to go pick him up. They’re trained in how to preserve evidence. If I can raise them, I’ll get them to pick Duane up, too.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“No,” the detective said. “Staying safe is the best thing you can do. The Coast Guard thinks there might be a window between storms tomorrow that could let them fly us in by helicopter.”
“That would be great,” Harriet said.
They exchanged storm stories then rang off, with Morse promising to call again tomorrow.
Lauren had left the room while Harriet was talking to Morse. She returned a few moments later with a cookie in each hand.
“Here,” she said and handed one to Harriet. “Mavis cooked dinner, but I don’t think we get to eat until everyone else returns. Who knows when that will be?”
“I wish we knew how the other serial killer victims were killed,” Harriet said.
“I don’t. I don’t want to know anything about the serial killer. It’s none of our business.”
“If they were killed with electrical wire wrapped around their throats, it might explain Duane’s murder.”
“And make Owen and Kate killers.” Lauren handed a bite of cookie to Carter.
“Did you catch the bad blood between him and Richard?”
“You mean that stare-down when Jorge was handing out the food? Yeah, I noticed.”
“It doesn’t make sense. If Owen is the serial killer and he killed Richard, why didn’t he strangle him?” Harriet wondered. “And how on earth do they know each other?”
“Maybe he didn’t expect to run into Richard, who recognized him and therefore had to be killed. He saw an opportunity and took it.”
Harriet took a bite of her chocolate chip cookie and chewed thoughtfully.
“Owen’s truck was right there. He and Kate went back to it before Richard went missing. Why wouldn’t he get a length of the wire then?”
“You think the truck driver is the murderer?” Mavis asked
“I thought you were napping,” Lauren said.
“I couldn’t get to sleep. Curly kept squirming around trying to get under the quilt, and as soon as I let her under it, she was circling and digging until she worked her way out again. And then I was thinking about Marjory’s sister-in-law. I know she’s a difficult person, but no one deserves to have her husband killed like that. And then there’s that poor spoiled daughter.”
“I know,” Harriet said. “This is going to devastate both of them. They seemed pretty dependent.”
“Maybe they killed him,” Lauren suggested.
“Lauren,” Mavis scolded.
“What?”
“She has a point,” Harriet said. “Everyone is a suspect until we prove otherwise, and if they were as broke as Marjory thinks, and Richard had life insurance, he might be worth more to them dead.”
“I suppose there’s no doubt it was murder,” Mavis said. “Is there any chance he had an accident? Or even did himself in?”
“Tom said he’d been hit in the head,” Harriet reminded her. “I suppose it’s possible he could have fallen on something, but he was in Brandy’s bed.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Mavis said. “At this point, anything’s possible.”
“I’m going to get my stitching,” Lauren said and stood up. “We might as well do something useful-we’re getting nowhere as crime solvers.”
Harriet followed her to the studio where they’d both stored their projects.