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Authors: Joan Rylen

Tags: #murder, #fire, #cold case, #adirondacks, #lake placid, #women slueths

Upstate Uproar (14 page)

BOOK: Upstate Uproar
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“I’m sure.” Nicole looked around at the crowd
bustling in the booths. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee at the diner
down the street?”

“I’m not a coffee consumer,” Vivian said,
“but ice cream, that’s another story.”

“I do drink coffee,” Wendy said, shifting her
purchases from one arm to the other. “And I could use a cup.”

“We might need some pie,” Kate said.

“It’s walking distance,” Nicole said.

“Will walk for pie,” Kate said and headed
toward the exit. “We have fall festivaled long enough.”

Nicole pushed open the door and they spilled
into the sunlight. The day was perfect, a crisp 65 degrees, the
wind rustling the trees and multicolored leaves floating down.

Vivian’s phone rang, and she glanced at the
display. “It’s Antonio! Give me a sec.” She stopped on the sidewalk
and accepted the call. “How’s my favorite police man?” She heard
Detective Antonio Robichaux of the New Orleans Police Department
smirk on the other end of the line.

“Hi, Vivian, I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, in Lake Placid, New York, at
the moment enjoying the fall foliage and chilly air. But I do need
to talk to you about something.”

She told him the news that Jake had gone
missing five months ago and also about the phone and other identity
Wendy had found. “I’m not sure what, if anything, you can do to
help, but I thought I’d call.”

“I’m glad you did. What’s the phone number to
the other cell?”

“We can’t get into the phone to figure it
out. It has a password and none of us can figure it out.”

“Turn the phone on and then hold down the
power button again until you can put it into emergency mode. You
should be able to call 911 and it will display the number you’re
calling from.”

Vivian repeated the instructions to Wendy,
who immediately powered up Jake’s secret phone and was able to get
the number. Vivian relayed it to Antonio.

“I’ll see what I can find out,” he said.

They spoke a bit longer, Vivian asking about
his sister, Adrienne, and he about life in Fort Worth.

“You really should hop on a flight and visit.
I’ll keep you busy,” Vivian said.

“I’ll bet!” He laughed.

Vivian gave him the name of Jake’s other
identity, and they disconnected soon after. She joined the others,
who were next door waiting outside the diner. “He’s got the info
and he’s on it,” she told Wendy.

“Thanks,” Wendy said, then she looked down,
sadness creeping into her eyes.

Vivian hated it.

Nicole opened the door and they all walked
in. The diner sported classic colors: A line of chrome stools with
red seats invited guests to the black and white checkered tile
counter. Black, square tables and chrome chairs sat in the middle
of the restaurant. Nicole picked out a booth by the window, and
Kate squeezed into the red seat and grabbed the paper menus tucked
between the napkin dispenser and the condiments.

“This is fun!” she said, bouncing up and
down.

Vivian bopped in to the beat of the Four
Seasons’ “Sherry.” “Wheeee!” She was stuffing her bags onto the
ledge of the window when a marimba beat played out of her
purse.

“That’s Lucy!” she yelled, snatching up her
purse and digging. “That’s her text sound!” She pulled her phone
out and read the message aloud.

 

Hey, I’m fine. Just needed to get away. Enjoy
your vacation and be SAFE. I mean that in every sense of the word,
you sexed-up, “opportunistic,” stumble into trouble tramp! Love
ya!

 

Vivian responded, saying “it’s about time”
and asking where she had gone, then she sent a text telling Lucy
that the jawbone they found belonged to Brandon’s second wife (they
thought). Then she put her phone on the bench seat between her and
Kate, hoping to hear the marimba sound again soon.

Wendy explained to Nicole how Lucy had been
with them at the beginning of the vacation but then took off after
the body incident because she couldn’t handle another vacation of
death and destruction.

“Does this sort of thing happen often?”
Nicole asked.

The three girls just looked at one another.
Finally, Kate spoke. “Our vacations are always fun, but they tend
to get sidetracked.”

“Side
swiped
is more like it,” Vivian
interjected.

Kate ignored her comment. “It’s okay, though,
keeps us on our toes.”

Nicole nodded but looked uncertain.

The waitress appeared to be in her early 20s
and could have stepped out of Mel’s Diner off the set of “Alice,”
with her Pepto-Bismol pink dress, white apron and goofy little hat.
She asked if they’d like to order.

“Indeed, I would,” Kate said, closing her
menu. “I want a piece of lemon chess pie, the pot roast plate with
mashed potatoes and green beans. And a big glass of water,
please.”

“I thought we were just getting coffee and
pie,” Wendy said.

“We haven’t eaten since breakfast. I need
linner.”

Nicole looked at the menu. “What’s
linner?”

“Too late for lunch, too early for dinner.
I’ll probably need a snack later, too.”

“I just want a slice of chocolate cake,”
Vivian said, pointing to a triple-decker doozy that sat on the
counter under a glass dome. “And a large glass of milk.”

“Coffee for me,” Wendy said. “Cream and
sugar.”

“Same,” Nicole said.

“Did you grow up here?” Vivian asked
Nicole.

“Actually, I grew up in Philly but spent a
lot of time here in the summer visiting my grandparents. I didn’t
move here until Gramps got sick and asked me to take over the
paper.”

“Did you study journalism?” Kate asked.

“I went to Penn State and was a reporter for
the
Philadelphia Daily News
after college.”

Wendy, always prepared, put a napkin in her
lap. “It must have been culture shock moving here. Big city to
small town.”

Nicole smiled. “It was, especially since I’m
almost the only person around with an ebony hue.”

“Wait, your grandpa was Earl Jones?” Vivian
asked.

“The one and only.”

“We read an article online this morning he
wrote about Rebecca Holt.”

“He was all over hear death, Brandon’s first
wife’s, too.” Nicole pulled out her notebook and pen. “I still
can’t believe you’re the ones who found the bone in the woods
yesterday.”

“Technically, a dog found it,” Wendy said,
and she explained how they’d borrowed Austin for the day.

“That’s a cool program,” Nicole said. “I’ll
have to do that sometime.” Then she went into reporter mode and
asked all sorts of questions surrounding the discovery.

Beverages arrived, and she kept at it,
leaning forward and jotting notes. When their food came, she closed
her notepad. “I think that’s about all I need. In case it’s not,
can I get your numbers? Where are you staying?”

“Turlington Farms Bed and Breakfast,” Kate
said, stabbing her pot roast and then taking a big bite.

Nicole made a face.

“Roo yoo not like meat?” Kate mumbled,
ignoring her manners and enjoying her bite.

“Oh no, I’m a carnivore.” Nicole took a sip
of her coffee. “It’s Turlington Farms I was surprised by.”

“Why’s that?” Vivian asked, digging her fork
into the large slice of cake. “Anyone want a bite before I
annihilate it?”

“Mmmm, mmmm,” Kate hummed, indicating she
wanted some.

Vivian sliced off a bit and placed it on
Wendy’s borrowed coffee saucer. “Hope that’s enough.”

Kate nodded yes and kept on eating.

Vivian looked at Nicole. “So what’s the deal
with Turlington Farms?”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush here,”
Nicole said and stirred her coffee. She set her spoon down and
looked at the three women. “It’s because, despite the notes I’ve
read from my grandfather, I think it’s owned by a wife killer.”

 

 

 

22

 

 

V
ivian didn’t know if
it was what Nicole said or the sugar pumping through her veins,
compliments of the diner’s giant chocolate cake, that perked her
up. “You have notes on the deaths?” she asked, then took a long
drink of her cold milk.

“Yes,” Nicole replied. “But that’s not the
part of my sentence I thought you’d notice. Do you know what has
happened to the women living at Turlington Farms?”

The waitress walked up and reached to refill
Wendy’s coffee cup but caught her breath and stopped.

Wendy looked at her and answered Nicole. “We
know.” Wendy said to the waitress, who was still frozen in place,
“I’d like more coffee, please.”

Nicole tapped on her notebook with her pen.
“Then you know that Brandon had one wife drown who was a good
swimmer and another disappear into thin air. He made a pretty penny
off of it, and he sure didn’t waste any time finding a third.”

The waitress scurried away.

Wendy reached for a creamer and peeled the
top off. “We’ve learned a lot about Mary Beth and Rebecca in the
last two days.” She glanced at Kate.

Kate used her butter-topped roll to lap up
some gravy. “I don’t think it’s him, and I’ll tell you why. I have
kind of a sixth sense when it comes to people, and he doesn’t
strike me as a killer. Jerk sometimes and hot tempered, but not a
squeeze-the-life-out-of-you, stick-you-in-a-hole-to-die
murderer.”

“My grandfather wouldn’t have agreed with
you,” Nicole said. “I’ve read through some of the notes he had on
both cases but certainly haven’t been through all of them.”

“Now might be the time,” Vivian said.

“I dug the boxes out yesterday after the bone
popped up. Gramps preferred paper to computers so it’s all in
handwritten notes. Let me tell you, there are files on practically
every person in this town. But one box in particular was his
heavy-hitters list.”

Vivian couldn’t help herself. “Can we see
it?”

“I don’t mind if you want to come by the shop
and take a look. I need to run back to the festival and get a few
more pictures. How about 7:30?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Vivian said, scraping
chocolate icing off her plate. “We’ll be there.”

Nicole threw $4 on the table and stood up. “I
hope you know what you’re doing staying there.”

Kate gave her a thumbs up, then pushed her
empty plate back and pulled the saucer with the lemon chess pie
toward her. “We’re good.” Nicole turned and left.

Wendy tapped her fingernails on the tabletop.
“That doesn’t make me feel good.”

Kate waved her off with her fork, then took a
bite of cake.

The waitress stopped at their table and
placed the check face down. She began to turn, but hesitated. After
a beat, she sighed. “I hate to admit I was listening, but I heard
what you were saying about that dead lady and her husband. Everyone
in town thinks he did it. It’s too coincidental. People in Lake
Placid don’t just up and die like that or disappear. And he’s had
two of them croak.” She turned and sashayed away, then said over
her shoulder, “You can pay at the counter.”

Vivian finished her milk, wiped off her
mustache, grabbed the check and paid with their trust fund account.
Thank you, Thai government. That cake rocked!

Kate and Wendy scooted out of the booth, and
they met Vivian at the door.

“Where to?” Wendy asked. “I’ve got a caffeine
jolt and energy to burn.”

“I need a wheelbarrow or something to haul me
around,” Kate said, leaning on Wendy. “I ate too much.”

“There’s a cute little shop across the
street,” Vivian said, adjusting the bags on her arms and adding
Kate’s to her load. “I need to get the kids something other than
cocoa.”

You Name It was filled with the usual
touristy stuff, but most of the items — coffee mugs, necklaces,
T-shirts, hats — could be personalized with a name engraved,
embroidered or emblazed.

Vivian picked up a tom-tom and gave it a
whack. “This is fun! Lauren would like this.”

Kate nodded, then crawled into a yellow and
green plastic, pop-up teepee and curled into a ball. “Wake me up
when we’re ready to leave.”

The store had lots of stuffed animals, most
wearing T-shirts advertising Lake Placid. Mini-moose, bears,
horses, skunks, deer, squirrels, you name it, lined the rows, all
in neon shirts.

Vivian wandered around the front of the store
where a plump woman behind the register was talking to another
woman wearing khaki pants, an olive green hoodie and carrying a
canvas bag that had trees on it and said “Go Green.” A
blonde-haired, chunky baby in a stroller next to her was trying his
hardest to grab the display of key chains.

Vivian smiled as she watched him, missing her
twins. They’d graduated from the stroller phase, but there were
times she wished she could strap ’em down again.

“Maybe this time the cops will get it right
and arrest that bastard,” the register lady said.

“Surely this will do it.” Hoodie had a
calming voice.

“Screw this waiting,” Register said. “How
many people does he have to kill before they put him behind
bars?”

Hoodie looked down at her baby and said
something, but Vivian couldn’t hear.

The women chatted a bit longer before they
said goodbye. Register’s cheeks were flushed and she fanned herself
with a Lake Placid brochure.

Vivian picked out seven moose magnets for her
co-workers and took them to the counter. The woman continued to fan
herself while she rung Vivian up.

“Bad day?” Vivian asked.

“I’m just frustrated with the lack of justice
in this town.”

“Who didn’t get justice?”

“My poor sweet cousin, that’s who. Her
husband killed her years ago, and he’s still out there, free as a
bird, while she’s stuck in a grave. Then he went and married that
rich bitch right after Mary Beth died. We all thought there was a
chance she’d wise up and leave him.” She leaned in closer. “But I
heard they found her body finally, or at least part of it.”

BOOK: Upstate Uproar
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