From her odd tone, Lara suspected the man had been a boyfriend. She also figured he was the “worm man,” even if Deanna didn’t agree. Still, she knew it was risky to jump to conclusions.
“Deanna,” Lara asked, “other than Evelyn, who else might have seen you stick your purse in that cupboard?”
The actress shrugged. “Frankly, I’m not sure I could narrow it down. I arrived here right on time, so the kitchen was busy by then. Those two waiters were scuttling in and out of the kitchen. Evelyn kept barking orders at them. Some of the Ladies’ Association members came in through the kitchen door. They’re apparently familiar with the layout. I saw one of them slide a covered tray into the fridge.”
Lara blew out a sigh. No shortage of potential culprits.
It had been foolhardy for Deanna, with her celebrity status, to tuck her purse into a cupboard in view of other people. Evelyn Conley should have advised against it instead of urging her to do it.
Deanna looked calmer now. She touched Lara’s arm. “Lara, would you mind taking my purse to my car and putting it in the trunk?” She grimaced at the keychain. “I’ll probably have to throw that away, too. It was in my purse there with those…things.”
“It so pretty,” Lara said. “Maybe you could clean it up instead of tossing it?”
Deanna frowned. “I’ll think about it. You know, I’m grateful that I didn’t trade in my vintage Mercedes before I moved here. It opens with a regular key, the way a car should. Those new keyless entry systems are too high-tech for an old gal like me.”
Lara scooped the keychain off the counter. “You’re far from old, Deanna, but I know what you mean about those new keyless systems. I drive my aunt’s old Saturn, and that’s high-tech enough for me.”
“Thank you, Lara,” Deanna said gratefully. “I’d go out myself, but I’m afraid there might be some looky-loos hanging about. You can imagine how it is.”
Lara could well imagine. Being a star came with a price, including an annoying lack of privacy.
“Happy to help,” Lara said. “The trunk, right?”
“Yes, that will be fine. And can you hold onto the key for me? I noticed you have a pocket in that adorable sundress you’re wearing.”
“Sure thing,” Lara said, warmed at the compliment. “Be right back.”
* * * *
The parking lot was jammed with cars. Deanna’s Mercedes was parked in the only shady spot—under the single carport at the rear of the building. According to Aunt Fran, the local Ladies’ Association paid a fee to hold its monthly meetings at the historical society.
Lara shot a glance over at the Saturn she shared with her aunt. It was parked near the road, adjacent to the sidewalk. They’d left the windows tightly closed, but now she wondered if she should she crack one of them open a bit. She mulled it over only for a moment. After the car’s recent servicing, the AC was in fine working order and able to cool the inside in short order.
She was heading to Deanna’s car when she spied a shaggy head peering into the back seat of the Saturn. Altering her direction, she went over and found a thin, sixtyish man with a grizzled beard gawking through the window into the back seat. Lara sidled up cautiously, halting about ten feet from the car. “May I help you with something?”
The man jumped slightly. He looked at her with a bland expression, his Red Sox shirt stained with what appeared to be chocolate ice cream. “Is there a cat in there?”
“A cat?” Lara smiled. The man had obviously spotted the emergency pet carrier they kept in the back seat in the event they came upon an animal in need of rescuing. But why was he peeking inside the Saturn in the first place? Had something drawn his attention to the car?
“No, there’s no cat in there,” Lara said. “I’d never leave a cat or any animal in a hot car.”
“Or a baby,” the man said, nodding.
“Or a baby,” Lara repeated. “Are you looking for someone?”
The man stared at her for a long moment. His eyes were a pale brown and somewhat opaque, like a swirl of milk chocolate. He shook his head mechanically. “No, I have to go now. I need more ice cream. I have money.”
With that he turned and hustled toward the sidewalk, his long legs moving swiftly in the direction of the ice cream truck parked on the next corner. Lara watched him for another minute or so. When he didn’t reappear, she shrugged and went over to Deanna’s car.
Still holding Deanna’s purse and car key, she was approaching the driver’s side of the Mercedes when she abruptly stopped short. On the window, scrawled in what seemed to be a garish-colored lipstick, were the words TIME TO PAY THE PIPER.
Lara sucked in a breath. She moved a tiny step closer to the car. Beneath the message, in the same color lipstick, was a hastily drawn symbol. To Lara it resembled a flower of some sort, sketched within the confines of a circle.
Heart pounding, Lara stepped away from the car. She slid her cell out from the deep pocket of her dress and took a quick photo of the graffiti.
After that, she turned and hurried back inside. Deanna would need to report the vandalism. She should also report the worms.
But it wasn’t the graffiti that worried Lara. It was the message itself.
Time to pay the piper.
Was it a threat? Was someone out to harm Deanna?
Chapter 3
“I can’t believe we’re about to enter Deanna Daltry’s home,” Lara said. If she’d tried, she couldn’t have suppressed the excitement in her voice.
“I know,” Aunt Fran said. “I feel like such a groupie, getting this giddy over it.”
Today was the day—the kittens were ready for their new home. Lara had tucked their furry charges atop a thick towel inside the cat carrier, and she and Aunt Fran were delivering them to Deanna. Aunt Fran was carrying the colored-pencil sketch Lara had made of the kittens. It was the gift she presented to each person or family who adopted from the shelter.
Lara swung her aunt’s Saturn onto the circular driveway and stopped in front of the old stone manse. She shut off the engine. She wasn’t surprised that Deanna’s Mercedes was nowhere to be seen.
The actress had been thoroughly shaken by the bizarre message someone had written on her car window. The worms had been bad enough, but those words—time to pay the piper—had raised the creep factor to a whole new level.
The police had first deemed it a prank, a cruel taunt by someone who disliked Deanna’s personal style. Chief Whitley, however, had taken it more seriously and commenced an investigation. With Deanna’s consent, they’d taken her vehicle into custody, but only until a forensic exam could be performed.
The discovery of the lipstick graffiti had created quite a stir at the welcome party. Much to Evelyn Conley’s dismay, the gig had broken up early. While the police hadn’t wanted to ruffle any local feathers, they’d nonetheless performed discreet interviews of each of the attendees. Several of the guests had voluntarily given up their lipstick tubes for analysis.
That lipstick—the color had stuck in Lara’s mind. Brightly colored and glossy, it looked suspiciously like the shade of red Evelyn had been wearing. Still, she didn’t want to point any fingers. There were hundreds of shades and brands of lipstick. And Evelyn clearly adored Deanna. She’d practically fallen at her feet when Deanna had first arrived.
The stone mansion sat at the top of Cemetery Hill, overlooking a family graveyard. According to Aunt Fran, the cemetery’s granite markers, some worn and illegible, dated as far back as 1864. The most recent was that of Alston Blythe, who died, childless, in 1938. After his death, the property fell into disrepair,