A Zen For Murder (Mooseamuck Island Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) (12 page)

Claire didn’t want to say it out loud, but Shane wasn’t the only one who cared about Sarah. She knew Sarah and Ben had grown very close since Sarah came to the island. Especially after Anna got sick. Sarah had been almost like a sister to him. She’d encouraged him to take the delivery job and that had given Ben much-needed self-esteem. Claire knew Ben looked up to Sarah … but would he kill for her?
 

“We need to find out Zoila’s time of death and then figure out if Shane had opportunity.” Claire eyed her phone, noticing there was no reception, as usual. “Maybe I can get that information from Robby.”

“If he’s feeling generous, maybe you can get him to tell us the exact make and size of shoe that made that footprint and if there was any distinguishing tread wear,” Dom said.

“I’ll try.”

“There’s something else strange.” Dom rubbed his eyebrows. “Shane’s account of when he was at Zoila’s doesn’t match with Kenneth’s. Kenneth said he saw Shane around one o’clock, but Shane said he was there after three.”

“Why would Shane lie about that?” Claire asked. “Zoila wasn’t killed until the next day, so it’s not like he would lie so as to not be placed at the scene of the crime.”

“Not
that
crime,” Dom said. “But maybe there was something else that happened at Zoila’s that he didn’t want to be implicated in.”

“Like what?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps that will come out as we investigate further. I do know one thing, though. We need to take a trip out to Zoila’s and see if there’s anything out there that might yield a clue.”

Claire looked down into her empty cup. “But it’s probably locked up and on this case, we don’t have the benefit of being able to just browse around the properties that the police have secured.”

“That’s unfortunate. But we can still go out and take a look around outside … maybe even peek in the windows. One never knows what one might find. “Dom pushed himself up from his chair and looked at Claire expectantly. “You game?”

***

Claire had been out to the old hunting camp many times before in her youth, but today, it looked different. She eyed it ominously as they drive slowly up the dirt road where it sat shrouded in the darkness of the forest trees, enveloped in the stillness of death.

That’s silly
, she thought as she hopped out of Dom’s Smart Car. It was just her imagination running wild, applying emotions to the camp knowing the owner was now dead. The camp was an inanimate object—no more menacing now than it had been before Zoila’s murder.

The rustic, log exterior blended perfectly with the deep-woods setting. Darkened windows glared at Claire as they approached the wide porch that ran along the front of the house.
 

Dom reached out and twisted the knob on the thick, oak door. “It’s locked.”

“Not surprised.” Claire cupped her hand over her eyes and peered through the window next to the door into the living room. Zoila had decorated it comfortably with a leather sofa facing the oversized stone fireplace. Claire wondered if the granny-square afghan draped over the back of the sofa was one of Alice’s creations. An oval, braided rug lay in the center of the tidy room. Claire felt a tug of sadness as she looked, in realizing that when Zoila left the cabin on Wednesday morning, she never realized it would be for the last time.

“Do you see anything of interest?” Dom moved to the window at the end of the porch, cupping his own hands over his eyes to look in.

“Not really.” Claire noticed a few stones had come loose from the side of the chimney and were lying on the hearth. “The chimney looks like it needs some repair, but didn’t Shane say that was part of what she was having redone?”

“Yep.” Dom was already off the porch and circling the house. From the side, Claire could see the various add-ons that had been built over the years. The different siding and architectural styles made them obvious. They peered into windows as they went around, but nothing seemed amiss.
 

Behind the camp was an old toolshed. Dom lifted the latch and the door squealed open.
 

“At least we can get in here,” Claire said as she surveyed the small shed full of gardening equipment, old tires, a snowblower and even a baby carriage that looked like it was from the early 1900s.

“I guess the Barretts left some of their stuff here after they sold the place.” Dom took down a rake that had been hanging on the side of the wall and looked it over, reminding Claire that the murder weapon—which they presumed was the rake from the zen garden—was still missing.

Dom smiled ruefully as he noticed her attention to the rake. “Wrong kind.”

“Just as well. It would be very strange for the murder weapon to show up here in Zoila’s tool shed when she’d been murdered in the zen garden.”

“True, but maybe our killer is very clever. It’s the last place anyone would look.”

Claire nodded, her attention drifting to a stack of old, framed pictures leaning against the side of the shed. “Looks like they even left old pictures.”

Dom came to stand beside her, pointing to the smudged dust in the middle of the tops of the frames. “It looks like someone has handled these recently.”

“Maybe Zoila moved them from the house for the renovations,” Claire suggested.

“Kenneth said Zoila had called him over to pick up some family pictures. I wonder why he didn’t take them.”
 

Claire held up a framed photograph that looked to be about seventy years old. “I know why. Kenneth didn’t get along with his father.”

Dom’s brow creased and he pointed to a handsome young man in the photo. “Is this his father?”

Claire nodded. “His name was Silas. He died a few years ago.”

“I see the resemblance,” Dom said as he studied the image of the man. Even though the picture was in black and white, he could tell the man had the same blond hair and preppy looks as Kenneth, right down to the dimple on his chin. "He seems kind of old to be Kenneth's father. Isn't Kenneth only in his forties?"

"He had Kenneth late in life. I guess he was too busy making money to take a wife. Kenneth's mother was a lot younger."
 

Dom was quiet while he studied the picture for a few seconds. “Who are the others?”

Claire looked at the picture again, then laughed. “You won’t believe it, but this is Norma and the woman next to her is Anna Campbell.”

“Ben’s mother?” Dom looked at the picture. Now that Claire had pointed it out, he recognized a younger and less grumpy Norma. She stood next to a woman who was a true beauty. Silas stood on the other side of the woman, looking at her with a bemused smile on his face as if she’d just said something clever. “They look like good friends.”

“I guess they were, back in the day. That was before Silas took over the family business. Norma said he changed after that and they didn’t hang around together anymore, but she and Anna remained best friends.”

Dom put the photo down and thumbed through the others. They were old family portraits, some in oil paint. He noticed one in an elaborate gold frame that had the paper backing torn at the top. The man immortalized by the painting had the Barrett blonde hair and dimple.

“That’s Kenneth’s grandfather. Jeb Barrett,” Claire said.

“I see the resemblance,” Dom sighed, and carefully placed the picture back with the others. “Unfortunately, there’s no clue here as to why Shane … or anyone else … would want to kill Zoila.”

“I’m not really convinced Shane had anything to do with it,” Claire said as they shut the shed door and started toward the car. “As you saw, the fireplace does need repair so he did have a legitimate reason to be here.”

“Well, if we want to clear Norma, we have to start eliminating the suspects and see where it leads us.”

“I guess Shane
is
one of our suspects.” Claire picked up her cell phone and glanced at the bars. “Still no service. I’ll text Robby about the footprint and time of death and hope it goes through when we get back in range.”

Dom turned the car around and started down the dirt road that served as the cabin’s driveway while Claire formulated her text. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the house and then the shed, he felt his left eyebrow tingle. He patted it with his index finger, then turned his attention to the road ahead of him. “Back in the day, we would have proceeded by figuring out where each suspect was at the time of the murder so we could narrow it down.”

“Yeah, and back in the day we’d have been able to haul them into the station for questioning.”

“True. We might have to use a more indirect method now.”

“You mean like asking around? The Mooseamuck Island grapevine knows everything that is going on around town.”

“Yes, that could help.” Dom glanced in his rear-view mirror to see a familiar car traveling about a half-mile behind them. “I already asked him where he was and now we just need to verify that.”

“Great. Where was he?” Claire checked her phone again. One bar.

“He said he was at the Dumonts’.”

“Perfect. I know Ginny very well. I’ll just call her up and verify.” Another bar popped up and Claire dialed Ginny’s number.

“Aloha!”

Claire laughed. “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

“Who wouldn’t be in paradise.”

“Paradise?”
 

“Yes, didn’t you know? We’re on vacation in Hawaii!”

Oh.” Claire’s brow wrinkled. “I didn’t know about that. Are you having work done on your house while you're away?”

“Shane is repointing our chimney, but not this week. We don’t want anyone there until we come back. We gave him explicit instructions.” Ginny’s voice took on a flat tone. “Why, was he there?”

“Oh, no. I was just wondering.” Claire caught Dom’s sideways glance and asked one last question. “So, you’ve been away all week?”

“Yep, since Saturday. We’re coming back next Wednesday.”

“Okay.” Claire tried to sound cheerful. “Well, have a nice vacation!”

Claire’s stomach sank as she hung up the phone.

“What did she say?” Dom asked.

“Shane wasn’t there … or at least he wasn’t supposed to be there. The Dumonts are on vacation and Ginny said she told him to suspend work until they got back. She didn’t want anyone on the property while they were away.”

Dom pressed his lips together and glanced in the side view mirror before turning right toward the road that led to Crab Cove. “So he
was
lying to me. I thought so.”

“But why would he lie? Do you really think he killed Zoila to protect Sarah’s secret?”

“I’m not sure, but we’re going to find out.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Why do you keep looking in the rearview mirror?” Claire asked as they pulled into the small parking lot next to
Chowders
.

“Someone is following us.”
 

Claire twisted around in her seat. “Who? Where?”

“Oh, he’s being rather discreet about it, but I know how to spot a tail.” Dom turned off the engine and turned to Claire. “I think it’s Zambuco.”

“Zambuco? Why would he be following
us
?”

“Maybe he’s fresh out of leads and is using us for inspiration.”

Claire mashed her brows together. “Fresh out of leads for what? He’s already arrested Norma. What would he be investigating?”

“He needs better evidence, don’t you think? I’m not even sure how he can justify keeping Norma … unless he knows something we don’t.”

Claire glanced over her shoulder as she followed Dom into
Chowders
. She didn’t see Zambuco, but if Dom was right, there might be hope for Norma to get released. At least she could be in the comfort of her home while Claire and Dom tracked down the real killer … who she hoped wasn’t standing inside
Chowders
looking out at them right now.

Walking through the lot, her heart grew heavy at the sight of Shane’s truck.
 

“This is good.” Dom jerked his head in the direction of the truck. “We’ll be able to question both of them at the same time.”

Anxiety surged through Claire as Dom opened the door. She was glad the diner was empty of customers—she had a feeling the conversation might get heated.

Sarah was behind the counter, slicing into a golden crusted pie. Shane sat on the other side, a white mug of dark coffee in front of him. Both heads swiveled toward the door. Two sets of eyes narrowed suspiciously, alerting Claire to the fact that Sarah and Shane knew they weren’t there on a social visit.

“What brings you two here?” Sarah asked guardedly.

“I’m afraid we have some hard questions to ask,” Dom said.

“Like what?” Shane’s hand clenched his mug.

“Now, look.” Dom leaned against the counter, looking down at Shane. “It’s better we ask these questions before Zambuco does. Because he’s going to come to the same conclusion sooner or later and I’m sure you’d rather come clean to your friends. Maybe we can help keep Zambuco off your back.”

“What are you talking about?” Sarah asked.

“We know you have a secret,” Dom said. “Did Zoila find out about it and threaten to tell someone?”