“While none of you were ever identified as persons of interest, almost everyone in the room had access to Malcolm Wudbine. And from the beginning we believed that more than one person was involved.
“Verity, Mrs. Wudbine-Merone,” he looked in her direction, “made an impassioned case for the killers coming from the outside, foreigners wanting revenge for some alleged misdeeds on Malcolm’s part.
“Mr. Shevlin, you certainly had the means and opportunity. No one else knows the theater, the play, or the timing better than you. You cast the play and put Wudbine in a defenseless position. And just in giving him that part, there was hostility and malice. You were having a joke, one that many of your friends here shared.
“And David Johnson, you’re still angry about the loss of much of your retirement. From your perch in the light booth you were in an excellent position to orchestrate and participate in this crime. You had means, motive, and opportunity.”
Ray started to pick up the pace. “There are a number of women here who have grievances against Wudbine, some ancient, some ongoing.
“And, Elliott, I don’t know what motive you might have had, but your whereabouts at the time of the crime has yet to be firmly established.
“But let me return to the sudden death of Brenda Wudbine. Like I indicated earlier, this is still officially an unexplained death. However, things have changed. It’s now a suspicious death, very suspicious indeed. So let me take a few steps back. I mentioned earlier that we always suspected two people were involved. We now have evidence that suggests that Brenda Wudbine was near the electrical boxes on the Assembly Building at the time the lights went out. We strongly suspect that she’s the one who pulled the switch and put the place in darkness for close to two minutes, the power finally being restored by David Johnson.”
“So who’s the other half of the team?” demanded Shevlin.
“That’s an interesting question. The person on the inside had to communicate with Brenda, telling her when to put the place in darkness. The assailant had to be a member of the cast or crew, someone who could move about backstage without drawing suspicion. Through careful planning, the killer found a place where they could hide before the attack. On the assailant’s signal, the power was switched off. I think a cell phone was used to cue Brenda. We are now in possession of key pieces of evidence and have search warrants for the cell phone records that we think will lead us to the killer. Arrests are pending.”
Ray’s gaze was fixed on Jill Wudbine. She stared back. Then he saw her left arm come up, a pistol gripped tightly in her left hand, pointing in his direction. Then she swept the gun back toward Elliott. Screams and confusion followed the crack of the pistol. People dove for the floor. Ray saw Jill stepping over them as she sprinted for the door. He followed her, his own weapon now drawn, pausing at the door long enough to see her disappearing over the dune grass toward the water.
48
“We’ve hardly seen you since Independence Day,” said Lisa, “and now it’s almost Labor Day.”
“She’s been dying to talk to you,” said Marc. “All she knows about the Wudbine case is what’s she read in the paper. Lisa always wants the whole story. I’ve told her this is a social occasion, that you won’t want to talk shop.”
“We took this pledge at the beginning of the summer,” said Sue, coming to the table. “We were going to totally separate our professional and private lives. That included working normal business hours, and taking weekends off. I even scheduled a week of vacation time to show Harry the area.”
“And how did that work out for you?” teased Lisa.
“I got to spend a week away from the office providing doggie daycare,” said Harry Hawkins.
“So how did you break the case?” Lisa continued her questioning.
“Do you want me to lock her in the car?” asked Marc.
“Just the end, Ray,” pressed Lisa.
“We have this pattern,” said Sue, taking the question. “We just pursue every promising lead, and slowly the pieces start to fall together. Ray keeps covering his whiteboard with maps and charts, organizers of sorts, searching for connections. And several times, Hanna,” Sue looked in her direction, “provided invaluable assistance.
“We’re being very careful what we say about the investigation. Jill Wudbine has retained one of the best criminal attorneys in the country. We don’t want jeopardize the case.”
“Well, why did Jill shoot her husband? What’s his name?”
“Elliott. I think we’re both clueless on that one,” said Ray looking over at Sue. “Fortunately, it was a non-fatal wound.”
“And her father-in-law? Why?”
Ray looked at Lisa, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.”
“With her father-in-law? Oh my God.”
“There are elements of Greek tragedy here,” said Ray.
“How about the other woman?” Lisa continued her questioning.
“I’ve been up to see Elliott at the hospital. The woman in question appears to be constantly at his side. She seems quite smitten.”
“So what really happened, what’s the backstory?”
“I’ll let the journalists and writers dig that out. I’m sure there’s a book here, or at least a made-for-TV movie. End of story, Lisa. I’ll take the whitefish off the grill in a minute or two. Marc, pour some sparkling wine, please. Let’s drink to summer.”
Author’s Note:
I am greatly indebted to Heather Shaw for her story editing skills, cover design, and interior layout. I am in awe of her artistic skills and literary sensibilities. Her friendship, sage advice, and diplomatic prodding keep me on task.
Special thanks to Jim and Tammy Royle, Deb Kline, and other early readers of this manuscript, and to Amié Merzion for her careful final proofing.
None of this would be possible without the support and friendship of the independent local booksellers in northern Michigan who have been stocking my novels and inviting me for signings and book talks for more than a decade.
Also, I am grateful to so many people in law enforcement and medicine who have patiently shared their expertise and time.
And, finally, Mary K, who provides support, friendship, and wise counsel as the book moves from a few random notes to a final draft.
Books in the Ray Elkins Series:
Summer People
Color Tour
Deer Season
Shelf Ice
Medieval Murders
Cruelest Month
© 2013 by Aaron Stander
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
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recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Print edition ISBN: 978-0-9785732-9-4
Printed and bound in the United States of America