A Puzzle in a Pear Tree (23 page)

Moron!
she told herself, her heart hammering.
The first
thing that neatnik will do is hang up his coat!

The door banged open and Jonathon Doddsworth stomped inside, muttering something about American rental cars, which apparently were not up to the highest British standards. Judging from his tone, he and Rick Reed had hoisted a few at the Country Kitchen. Even so, Cora figured, the inspector was probably not drunk enough to fail to notice a woman in her skivvies huddled in his coat closet.

Which he would open any minute.

But he didn’t. Through the crack in the door Cora could see Doddsworth’s coat land squarely on the bed as the detective himself stomped into the bathroom.

Quick as a wink, Cora slipped out of the closet, closing the accordion door behind her, and sprinted out the front door.

Instantly, Cora could feel the eyes of the proprietor on her. There was no help for that now. She hurried down the walkway, panicked that she didn’t have her room key, then remembered she’d left the door unlocked. With a gusty sigh of relief, she let herself in to unit 12, shivering with the cold.

She went into the bathroom, shut the window. Then she checked in the mirror: no obvious scrapes. She pulled on her clothes and coat.

The mound of snow made her walk past unit 7 again. She was sure that just as she reached the door Doddsworth would come popping out to confront her. He didn’t. Cora hurried to her car, revved up the engine, and pulled out.

Her headlights illuminated the figure of a man blocking the driveway. Cora slammed on her brakes.

The proprietor walked around to the driver’s side, motioned to her to roll down the window.

“Yes?” Cora asked brightly, as if everything were just fine.

Everything clearly wasn’t.

Jerry Lynch shook his head. “You checked in with no luggage. I might have said something, but I didn’t. Gave you the benefit of the doubt. But when I see you, in your
underwear
, coming out of the room of a gentleman guest, that’s something else.” He stuck his nose in the air. “I don’t run that sort of motel.”

Cora grimaced.

And here she’d thought she was compromising
Sherry’s
reputation.

39

THE TAGGARTS’ SPRAWLING, THREE-STORY COLONIAL WAS SO big that Cora expected a butler, but Mindy Taggart answered the door herself. Her face seemed startlingly pale in contrast to her black mourning dress. Her blond hair was tied back. Her eyes were dull. Haunted. “I’m sorry,” she said. “My husband isn’t seeing anyone.”

“I came to see you. May I come in?”

“I’m not seeing anyone either.”

“Yet here we stand.”

Mindy Taggart took a soft breath. “Miss Felton, I just lost my daughter. Could you have some compassion?”

“My niece has been charged with your daughter’s murder. She didn’t do it. I mean to find out who did.”

“You’ve come to the wrong place. I know nothing that would help you.”

“I think you do.”

“Well, you’re wrong. And now you’re being impertinent, as well as intruding on my grief. I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“What about Doddsy?”

Mindy Taggart’s pale face froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was hoping to discuss your dear Doddsy. But if you’re not up to it, I’ll just have to ask him. . . .”

Mindy Taggart glanced around in consternation, lowered her voice. “Come into the parlor.”

In light of her grief, Cora resisted retorting, “Said the spider to the fly.” Instead, she followed Mrs. Taggart into what at one time would have passed for a Victorian sitting room but now was dominated by a big-screen TV.

Mindy Taggart closed the door and turned. Her face had become a mask of anguish, as if her whole world were collapsing. “In the name of heaven, why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not doing anything to you. I’m trying to solve your daughter’s murder. That may bring up things you’d rather forget. But wouldn’t you like to know?”

“As if I didn’t.”

“You’re saying you know who did this?”

“No, of course not. Please. My daughter’s been taken from me. Haven’t I been punished enough?”

“Is that how you see it?”

Mindy said nothing.

“Tell me about Doddsy.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“I read the letter.”

“What letter?”

“The one you wrote. Just before he came here.
‘My
dearest Doddsy’
is not exactly ambiguous. So there’s no need to pretend.”

“Men are such fools!” Mindy sank into a chair by the coffee table, lifted the lid of a ceramic box that proved to contain cigarettes. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Cora draped her coat over the back of the couch, sat down and dug into her purse. “I prefer my own. Here, let me give you a light.”

The two women lit up, sat back smoking.

Mindy Taggart took a deep drag, blew it out, said, “Where were we?”

“We were talking about the stupidity of men. I’ve married enough of them to agree completely. With regard to Jonathon Doddsworth: I gather you two were an item. I assume by the way you spirited me off at the slightest mention of his name that your husband doesn’t know?”

Mindy said nothing, merely glared.

“Oh. Of course he knows. That was the whole point. Your affair with Jonathon Doddsworth was to pay your husband back for his affair with Doddsworth’s wife.”

“So that’s what you think.”

“That isn’t true?”

“The story holds up after all these years.”

“What story?”

“My husband is a powerful man, Miss Felton. A man used to getting what he wants.”

“What he wants? As in Pamela Doddsworth?”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Mindy took another drag on her cigarette, blew it out. “I will tell you. And then you must go away. And leave me in peace. Peace. As if there could ever
be
any peace. But I will tell you. And you will tell no one. Because that’s how it works.” She laughed ironically. “Fifteen years ago, Jonathon Doddsworth was quite the young man. Thinner, with a mop of curly hair. And that English accent. And those twinkling eyes. Witty. Amusing.” Mindy smiled at the memory. A sad, wry smile. “I was a married woman. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. But those things happen.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it!”

“All I know is when I was with Jonathon I was happy. It seemed so innocent. Until Horace found out.”

“So, it was the other way around. Your husband and Pamela Doddsworth got together to pay
you
two back.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Mindy tapped her cigarette into the ashtray, then looked Cora straight in the eye. “Horace and Pamela
never
got together.”

Cora blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“It didn’t happen. That was just a story Horace put around.”

“What?”

“Like I say. My husband is a powerful man. Used to buying whatever he wants. In this case, he wanted Doddsy gone. They had been the best of friends. When he found out about us, Horace was hurt, terribly betrayed, and angry. He couldn’t bear to see Jonathon anymore.”

“So what happened?”

“There were children involved. Dorrie and Maxine were too young to understand, to even know what was going on. We didn’t want them hurt. You have to understand that.”

“I’m trying to understand. I’m not having much luck.”

“Horace’s solution was amazingly simple. Jonathon would take his family back to England. The girls would miss each other for a while, but they were young, and they would forget. The problem was Pamela. She refused to uproot her family on some rich man’s whim. Doddsy could go if he liked. Her feelings toward him weren’t too cordial along about then.”

“Imagine that.”

“So, they cut a deal, Jonathon and Pam. He would go back to England. Pamela and Max would stay here. Horace would settle a sizable amount on Pamela for child support, as long as she kept quiet about the affair.”

“And she agreed to that?”

“Why not? Her husband was leaving Bakerhaven. She and my husband were the aggrieved parties. Why shouldn’t they make a pact to help each other through a rough time?”

“But they never had an affair?”

“Horace and Pamela? Don’t make me laugh! That was just the story Horace put out to explain Doddsy’s leaving. He merely leaked it to a few key sources. It got around soon enough. It wasn’t long before the whole town knew.

“Then Doddsy comes back after all these years, and tongues begin to wag. Time has passed, the two girls have grown. Suppose they were to hear? You see why Doddsy’s so upset? He thinks she found out. He thinks she did it.”

Cora frowned, puzzling out the tangle of human emotions. “Your theory is Maxine Doddsworth found out what your husband did, sending her father away and spreading lies about her mother, and became so enraged she murdered his daughter to make him suffer?”

Mindy looked at her with just a trace of a smug smile.

“Not Maxine. Pamela.”

40

PAMELA DODDSWORTH WASN’T OVERJOYED TO SEE CORA ON her doorstep either. “Why are you here?” she demanded sharply. “Why can’t you just let well enough alone?”

“And let your husband solve it?”

“
Ex-
husband.”

“I thought you wanted me to beat him to the punch.”

“I do. You’re wasting your time talking to me.”

“I don’t think so.” Cora, nudged by Pamela, took one of the candy canes off the Doddsworths’ Christmas tree, examined it critically. “I just came from Mindy Taggart.”

Pamela’s nostrils flared. “Oh, is that so?”

“I don’t imagine you like her much.”

“We’re not exactly close. But our daughters were best friends.”

“I’ve heard the story. Mindy came clean. I know what you’ve been through, and I think I understand what you feel.” Cora held the candy cane like a gun. “What I’m trying to figure out is just how vengeful you are.”

“What in heaven’s name are you talking about?” Pamela seemed genuinely bewildered.

“It had to be a strain to have your husband come back after all those years. Bringing up ugly old memories. Rekindling ugly old resentments. Particularly if your daughter still idolized her dad.”

“Certainly it’s hard. What’s your point?”

“Hard enough to make you kill?”

“What!?”

“Someone killed Dorrie. I’m looking into the very good possibility it was you.”

“Are you out of your mind? I wasn’t even there.”

“No, but your daughter was.”

Pamela’s face darkened. “What are you saying?”

In the reflection of one of the silver balls on the tree, Cora could see Maxine Doddsworth listening from the stairs. Evidently Pamela wasn’t aware of it. That was just fine with Cora.

“I would imagine your daughter still trusts you enough to do what you tell her. Suppose you were to give Maxine a necklace or scarf or choker to slip on Dorrie’s neck in the crèche. Suppose whatever it was had a poison pin.”

“I don’t recall any such object being found on the body. But I suppose you have a
theory
”
—
Pamela said the word mockingly—“of what became of it.”

“I haven’t thought it all out yet.”

“I’ll say you haven’t. Why in the world would I kill the child like that, knowing it would directly implicate my daughter?”

“Maybe that was the point,” Cora replied. “You are a woman who has suffered a great wrong at the hands of three people. Your husband who betrayed you. The woman he betrayed you with. And her husband, who compounded the injury with lies and deceit. Well, here’s revenge on them all. The Taggarts you deprive of their only child. And your husband—the person you hate most—on him you inflict the even worse punishment of thinking his daughter did the deed.”

Pamela Doddsworth stared at Cora in growing horror. “Are you insane? Do you think I’m such a fiend? What sort of a twisted mind would it take to come up with something like that?”

Cora had come up with the idea in no time at all. She tried not to take offense. “It would depend on the degree of hatred. I imagine yours runs rather deep.”

“You have no idea.”

Maxine Doddsworth came scampering down the stairs. “Oh, come on, Mom. You still love Dad, and you know it. Otherwise you wouldn’t care so much.”

“Max! How long have you been listening?”

“Long enough. But don’t worry, Mom. I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Yeah, oh, my God. You’re not a bad woman, you’re just a martyr. Sacrificing your good name for my sake. And for Dad’s. Any money you got for doing so is entirely coincidental.”

“This was never about money!”

“No, of course not,” Maxine said sarcastically.

“How long have you known?”

“Oh, a while.” Eyes flashing, Maxine turned to Cora Felton. “Is that what you’re here for? To root out scandal? Spread it around? Take the heat off your niece? Is that why you’re here?”

“No. I’m trying to find who killed your friend.”

“You needn’t bother. Daddy’s on the case. He’s the real deal. He’ll prove who did this, no matter what it takes. He’ll run rings around you. You’re nobody. He’s the best.”

“Max, don’t be rude.”

“No, she’s right. For experience, your husband has me beat hands down.” Cora twirled the candy cane thoughtfully around her finger. “Maxine, can I ask you a question?”

“Depends what it is.”

“Are you in
The Seagull
?”

Maxine blinked. Whatever question she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Yeah. Why?”

“What do you play?”

“A small part. A walk-on, really.”

“What’s going to happen with
The Seagull
now? Is it still going on?”

“How the hell should I know? Who cares about some stupid play?”

“I thought you might take over Dorrie’s part.”

“Yeah. Like that would really happen. I’m no actress.”

“Then why were you in the play?”

“Because Dorrie was. She was nuts about that stuff. Me, I could never see the point.”

“But Dorrie took it seriously?”

“Worked her tail off.” Maxine made a face. “Mr. Winston’s such a perfectionist. Everything’s gotta be just so. He kept Dorrie late maybe two or three times a week.”

“You mean for private lessons?”

“Sure. She was a star. Director’s pet. Even in rehearsal, she was the one he worked with most.”

“Any of the other actors jealous of the attention?”

“No. Why should they be? He’s a real pain, fussing over one thing or another. They just resented the time. Mr. Winston’s rehearsals drag on forever.”

Cora suppressed a groan.
She
had two days of Rupert Winston’s rehearsals left. “Did Dorrie mind?”

“She ate it up. She loved playing that part.”

“Uh-huh.” A thought occurred to Cora. “Was Lance in the play?”

“Lance? No way. He’s a jock.”

“Mmm.” Feeling her way, Cora ventured, “So, did you stick around for these late rehearsals Dorrie had?”

“Are you kidding? Would you stay after school if you didn’t have to?”

“But Dorrie told you about them?”

Maxine frowned.

Cora pounced. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Maxine said irritably. “Dorrie just wasn’t herself lately. I wondered why. Now I know.”

“You mean her being pregnant?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But that had nothing to do with rehearsals. Was there anything about
rehearsal
?”

“Of course not. What could there be?”

Cora was embarrassed to discover that she had absently unwrapped the candy cane. “I don’t know. Would she have discussed her pregnancy with Rupert Winston?”

“Get serious!”

Cora shrugged. “If she needed advice. And didn’t want to go to her parents.”

“She’d tell
me
,” Maxine said emphatically. “She sure as hell wouldn’t tell Rupert Winston.”

“Even if she had something she wasn’t sharing with you?”

“Even then. No way she’d talk to him.”

Cora stuffed the candy cane in her mouth and thought that over.