Valerie Wolzien - This Old Murder

“Anyone know where there’s a large piece of plywood we can write on?” she asked, looking around. “And a can of paint or something.”

Annette came running with both. Josie painted FRAGILE!! on the wood and hammered the sign across the front of the frame.

“What do you think the Courtney Castle people will think about that?” Jill, her arms full of debris, stopped on her way out the door to ask.

“God knows. But I do know that we won’t get anything accomplished if we worry about their opinion every step of the way. Let me help you all.” She grabbed a slab of Sheetrock that was falling from the wheelbarrow Dottie was pushing and joined her crew in the dirty, exhausting work of demolition.

Two hours later they were sitting on the front deck, exhausted, huge hoagies dripping greasy strings of lettuce and tomato onto their filthy laps when a silver Porsche roared up to the curb and an Armani-clad young woman jumped out of the driver’s seat. The polite smile slowly faded from her face as she surveyed the scene.

“That’s her! That’s Courtney!” Annette announced.

“How can you tell in that getup?” A lavish Hermès scarf swaddled Courtney’s head and massive black sunglasses covered much of her face. Josie stood, unaware that a slab of bologna was sticking to the front of her overalls. She smiled despite her aching back and mounting apprehension and started down the steps to the sidewalk.

“This isn’t going to stay here for long, is it?” Courtney asked, not bothering to introduce herself and staring at the overflowing Dumpster as though she’d never seen one before.

“It’s due to be taken away in six days,” Josie answered. “I’m Josie Pigeon.” She offered a dirty hand.

It was ignored. “Courtney Castle. This really won’t do. Our show teaches people how to do things right. We don’t accept sloppy work.”

“Ms. Castle, I’m so happy you’re finally here. I’m Cheryl. My husband and I live next door. We’re the neighbors to this project. Anyway, I couldn’t help but hear what you said and I couldn’t agree with you more! My husband and I have never seen anything like this. Disgraceful and very unprofessional.” A huge woman, showing off her dimpled thighs and arms in a bright pink playsuit, stomped across the lawn next door. “Certainly not up to the standards of Courtney Castle’s Castles.”

Josie didn’t bother to introduce herself to the woman or defend her crew’s work. Instead she examined Courtney Castle’s profile with a shocked expression on her face. “You know-” she began, but Annette Long interrupted.

“Oh, Ms. Castle, I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you. We’re all just thrilled that you’re going to put Island Contracting on the air.”

“Yes, we haven’t been able to talk about anything else,” Jill added.

“Well, some of us are more thrilled than others.” Dottie had joined them.

“And we were going to clean up the front lawn right after lunch. Right, Josie?” Annette lied.

“Yes. I…” Josie was still staring.

“I think Josie and I should do a walk-through of the site,” Courtney announced. “Right, Josie?”

“I… You… Yes, that would be a good idea. You all finish eating. This won’t take long.”

“Let’s start out back. The blues are there and we can compare the finished product with what’s here as we go.”

“Great.”

The two women, one chic and clean, one dirty and dowdy, entered through the open front door.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Annette bubbled.

But Dottie and Jill had gone back to their lunches.

IT WAS ALMOST six o’clock, well after the official start of the island’s cocktail hour, so Josie wasn’t too surprised to find a parking place right in front of Sam’s store. Most of his customers would already be home, immersed in their first or second gin and tonic of the day. They were, after all, on vacation. But Josie wasn’t. Furthermore, she was upset and in a hurry.

Which probably explained why she smashed right into a display of Beaujolais, knocking six bottles to the floor.

“Oh, damn!”

“They made it all the way here from France without a break, Josie. You could at least let me sell them to thirsty customers.”

Josie was fumbling with her overalls. “It was my hammer. I thought I’d left this in the truck,” she muttered, pulling it from her back pocket.

Sam had finished replacing the bottles on the shelves. “No harm done. So, are you here to see me, or am I a convenient stop on the way to the video store?”

“Have you seen Tyler today?”

“I just happened to return the tape we rented while he was at work, yes.”

“And?”

“And he was having a ball. I was in the store less than five minutes, and during that time, he explained a new system of shelving foreign movies to the owner, told a woman he was sure her preschool son would get a lot out of A Clockwork Orange-his words, not mine-and flirted with one of the cutest girls I’ve seen on the island in a long while. He was having a ball,” Sam repeated. “And don’t worry. The little boy is going to be watching One Hundred and One Dalmatians tonight despite Tyler ’s helpful advice.”

“Do you think he’ll get fired?” Josie asked, suddenly discovering something new to worry about.

“No way. Everyone in the place was getting a huge kick out of his enthusiasm and energy. You know Tyler. Besides, the store doesn’t carry anything X-rated. Anyone who wants to get something like that will have to go a few blocks away to Island Video.”

“But won’t the owner be upset if Tyler recommends tapes he doesn’t carry?”

“Both stores are owned by the same person. Doesn’t make a bit of difference to him which place people choose to rent from.”

“Oh, so you think Tyler is doing a good job.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you think I could possibly just stop in and-”

“I think-and you know-you should leave him alone.”

“You’re right. I just needed something to do. It’s been a strange day.”

“Courtney Castle’s Castles couldn’t already be causing problems.” Sam opened a bag of gourmet potato chips and passed them to her as he spoke.

“Sort of,” she admitted through the crunching. “You know, last night when we were watching the show, I thought Courtney looked familiar. But today when she was at the house-”

“Courtney Castle is already on the island? She’s getting to work early, isn’t she?”

“I don’t think… That’s not the point. Sam, there’s something strange about… Courtney. You see-”

“Did I hear Miss Josie Pigeon saying something about Courtney Castle? Did you hear anything about that, son?”

“Well, Chief, I guess I did.”

Sam and Josie exchanged looks and turned to greet Chief Rodney and his son, the official (and during the winter months the only) police presence on the island.

“I was just telling Sam that I met Courtney Castle this afternoon,” Josie explained.

“Yeah, so we heard.” Mike Rodney managed to make the simple statement sound menacing.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked politely.

Chief Rodney got right to the point. “Sure hope so. We’re looking for donations for the Annual Police Association Auction, Sam. We thought a bottle of one of your imported bubblies could fetch a pretty price.”

“Always ready to help out the local organizations, you know that,” Sam said agreeably.

“What Annual Police Association Auction?” Josie asked.

“I’ve never heard of an annual police association auction. I didn’t even know there was a police association on the island. What is it?”

“Most municipalities have a police association. Among other things, they raise money to help the officers in times of crisis, to do things like help the widows of officers killed in action,” Mike Rodney explained.