Mahogany sat at a table outside Hot Brews, stirring her mocha. Her thoughts filled with the echo chronograph she'd delivered to Agalia at the museum. What had happened between Matt and Lilac? Had RW come and swept her off her feet, jilting Matt? Did RW have an alibi for the time of Matt's murder? Did he have a motive beyond wanting to stop the clock from chiming all night?
"I've been thinking," Evelina said, slipping into the seat across from Mahogany, "What if we pry, just a little, into Matt's murder? Something to keep your mind occupied from Tony and his surprise fiancée?"
A sharp stab in Mahogany's chest caused her to gasp at the mention of the surprise fiancée. "I don't think so."
Evelina sat back, her eyes narrowed. "So, what were you sitting here thinking about then?"
Mahogany stirred her mocha until it almost sloshed over the rim of the glass. "Matt's murder," she admitted, her voice heavy with guilt.
Evelina squeaked and slammed her hands down on the table. "I knew it! I knew you couldn't help yourself. So, what were you working out? Motive, opportunity, means? Who are the suspects?"
"Slow down," Mahogany said and chuckled. She peered around conspiratorially and leaned over the small table toward Evelina. "I had to pick up a magical clock from Matt's office last night, and—"
"You went alone?" Evelina's lower lips stuck out in a pout, and Mahogany wondered if Evelina were sad that she hadn't been asked along or if she had been worried for Mahogany's safety.
"Guy and Bazgul were with me. So the clock," Mahogany said, pushing back to her point, "was an echo chronograph."
"An echo what?"
"A clock that plays memories, and the memory Matt had been watching before his death was of him and Lilac Delldini dancing together."
"Together, as in a couple?" Evelina's brow knitted into a frown. She gasped suddenly. "Do you think they were having an affair? That would give RW a major motive."
Mahogany shook her head. "From how they looked, the memory was from around twenty years ago."
"Wow. I had no idea." Evelina tapped a manicured nail on the tabletop. "You know who would have more information on this topic?"
It was Mahogany's turn to frown. "Who," she asked, drawing out the word.
"Saree Fenquoth."
"Matt's wife?" Mahogany sat back and shook her head. "I don't know. She just lost her husband. I don't think we should bother her."
Evelina crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you think the police waited to question her?"
"Still," Mahogany said, her face scrunching.
"I've got it." Evelina jumped up and disappeared into the cafe. She returned a few moments later, carrying a basket filled with muffins, pastries, and cupcakes. "A care package for the grieving," she said, giving a little bow.
Mahogany stared at Evelina, a pit of worry settling in her stomach. Against her better judgment, she did want to know what happened to Matt Hader. Her tailbone ached as she stood, but Mahogany ignored its warning. "Lead the way."
***
Several minutes later, they found themselves standing in front of a row of tidy bungalows down the street from the park. Each house appeared to have a theme. One was resplendent with diamonds, spades, hearts, and clubs. Further down the lane, a two-tone yard created a patchwork pattern topped with oversized chess pieces. Another had a croquet set up with a sign that said, Do you play croquet? Please, help yourself.
"I haven't been down Dodo Lane in ages," Mahogany said as they passed a home painted in stripes of varying shades of pink. The windows on the house looked like two large yellow eyes, and twin peaks gave the effect of pointed cat ears.
"It was always the best place to trick-or-treat," Evelina said. "Oh, I think this is it."
They stopped in front of a cottage that appeared to be a miniature replica of the clock tower. A giant sundial in the yard cast a shadow over the Roman numeral ten. Just beneath the glimmering clock face stood a wooden door that flung itself open at that moment, and a cuckoo on a scissoring extension arm popped forth and tweeted the time.
"Epic," Evelina said, her head tilted back to take in the cuckoo's full glory.
"Whatever you say." Mahogany started toward the porch, swallowing her apprehension at bothering Saree in her grief. However, she couldn't bring herself to knock on the woman's door.
"What are you waiting for?" Evelina said, standing on the stoop next to Mahogany.
"For a reasonable amount of time to pass between her husband's murder and us showing up to pry."
"Ovary up, Mahogany. This murder isn't going to solve itself." Evelina rapt on the door, and they waited, holding their breath.
From inside the cottage, a din of bells, chimes, whistles, and squawks penetrated the heavy wooden door.
"Are those–" Evelina began.
"Clocks?" Mahogany finished.
"How many do you think are in there?" Evelina wondered.
An instant later, the door flew open, and before them stood Saree Fenquoth. She stared at them, her eyes roving their faces. Saree's jet black hair was quaffed into a neat bouffant, reminiscent of the 1960s. Her blood-red top was accented with black lace. "Yes?" she asked, raising a pencil-thin eyebrow on a powder-white face. Her deep red lips pulled down in a frown.
"We're so sorry to bother you, Ms. Fenquoth," Evelina said. "We wanted to offer our condolences. Matt was much loved in the community." She held out the basket of baked goods.
"Oh, why, how thoughtful," Saree said, taking the basket as if it might bite her. "Won't you come in?" She stood back, allowing Evelin and Mahogany to enter.
The house was awash with natural light pouring in through several massive windows, illuminating an enormous clock collection covering almost every inch of wall space.
A series of deep boxes in the center of the room held packing materials. In one, the top of a shingled roof peaked out. No doubt another cuckoo clock.
"Are you getting rid of Matt's clock collection?" Evelina asked as she eyed the boxes.
"Selling them. He didn't think of having life insurance, and I need to pay for his burial somehow." Saree pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. "To tell you the truth, I never like them. Can you imagine dusting them every week? It took ages. And the noise. The top of the hour is unbearable."
Mahogany thought back to the cacophony of bells and whistles she'd heard only moments before. "I can imagine."
"Shall I put on some tea?" Saree said, placing the basket of goodies on the coffee table. "It's no trouble."
"That would be lovely," Evelina said, giving Saree a sweet smile.
Saree returned the smile and headed into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Mahogany mouthed.
"Searching for clues," Evelina mouthed back and tiptoed down the hallway.
A thin layer of sweat broke out over Mahogany's upper lip. She went to the kitchen to keep Saree busy.
"So, tell me about Matt. I hadn't seen him until yesterday when he got into that argument with RW."
Saree peered under her overly-mascaraed eyelashes at Mahogany as she placed the kettle on the stove.
"RW and Matt haven't gotten along in years, not since RW stole the love of Matt's life." Saree sniffed her face, a mask of resigned anger.
"What do you mean?"
"Lilac and Matt were married, oh, I'd say, twenty or so years back. Then in swoops RW, and bam! Instant enemies. They owned the house down the lane. Lilac won it in the divorce. Losing the house broke his heart just as much as losing Lilac. " Saree clapped her hands together for emphasis. "They used to run the Pandemonium Clock Preservation Committee together."
"Wow. How did I not know any of this?" Mahogany said. She positioned herself so that one ear was aimed towards the living room and one towards Saree, and she listened for Evelina's return.
"They worked together for years. I was Matt's rebound, but he never did get over Lilac." Saree spat the words like bitter pips from her mouth. "But that's just RW. He always was a charmer." The kettle started to whistle, and Saree grabbed three mugs and dropped a tea bag in each.
"Where's your friend? What's her name? Evelina? I recognize her from the cafe downtown."
"She's admiring the clocks," Mahogany lied. "She's always had a thing for timepieces."
Saree raised another thin eyebrow. "Really? I guess you can't judge a book by its cover. Shall we?" She's placed the mugs on a tray with a matching white porcelain cream and sugar set and three small China plates.
Mahogany nodded, her mouth dry, and followed Saree back into the living room.
"These are just amazing," Evelina said as they exited the kitchen. She stood before a massive grandfather clock. Ornate silver hands graced the face pointing to elegantly hand-painted numbers.
"That one is promised to a collector in Germany. He paid handsomely for it," Saree said, glancing at the clock, her eyes hard. "Cream and sugar?"
"Yes, please," Evelina said.
Saree handed out the mugs and plates and sat on a large floral sofa. "So, how did you know Matt?" she asked, sipping her tea.
"I think all the kids around here knew Matt from school field trips to the clock tower," Mahogany said. She perched herself on the edge of the floral armchair matching the sofa.
Evelina knelt on the floor, grabbed a chocolate croissant from the basket, and set it on her plate. "He was very passionate about teaching us the importance of the clock to Pandemonium history."
Saree snorted into her tea. "A fat lot of good that passion did him. That clock tower was the death of him. He'd probably still be alive if he hadn't been so pigheaded about silencing the bells during the night." She pulled her hanky from her pocket again and dabbed at her eyes.
"Do you think that's why someone killed him? Because the clock was keeping them awake?" Mahogany sipped her tea, trying to rid the nervous dryness in her mouth.
Saree waved her hand. "Knowing these lunatics, anything is possible."
****
"You'll never guess what I found in Saree's bedroom," Evelina said.
They strode down the street away from Saree's clock tower home towards the park.
"You were in her room? Holy Beelzebub, Evelina. I'm afraid to ask."
"Beelzebub, indeed." Evelina pulled a colorful handkerchief from her handbag.
Mahogany took the hanky and examined it. Embroidered in the hanky's corner were the letters RW.
"You found this in her bedroom?"
"Just under the bed. It was invisible until I looked underneath."
"You looked under her bed?"
"Yes, and it paid off," Evelina said, snatching the hanky from Mahogany. "It belongs to R Whitebait."
"There might be a perfectly reasonable explication for this being under Saree's bed."
"Really? Like what?"
"Like, RW came by to pay his respects and gave her the hanky when she started crying, and she dropped it in the bedroom later."
"Perhaps," Evelina said, tapping her lip. "But she didn't seem all that broken up about Matt's death, only that he didn't leave her enough money to bury him."
Mahogany nodded. "She also said that Matt never got over Lilac leaving him for RW. She's pretty bitter over it, which makes sense. I don't think they had a happy marriage."
"We need to talk to RW and see where he was the night Matt was murdered."
"Melody and Evelina. Fancy meeting you here."
They arrived at the park, and a perky Blair held tight to Tony's hand, smiling at them like the Cheshire cat who'd just finished off the Dormouse.
"We were just on our morning stroll," Blair said, brandishing Tony's held hand.
"Her name is Mahogany," Evelina said and stuffed the hanky back into her bag.
Blair's plastic smile twitched but held steady, never reaching her eyes.
Tony's face was filled with a sorrowful longing as he eyed Mahogany and Evelina. "Well, it was good to see you," he said, ushering Blair away.
Mahogany watched them go, her heart aching. How could Tony have put off mentioning Blair? And how in the world had he ever chosen her? She was insufferable.
"Your phone," Evelina said, pulling Mahogany from her thoughts.
"What?"
"Your phone is ringing."
"Oh." Mahogany said, giving her head a shake. "Hello?"
"What are you doing?"
"Detective Sawyer. I didn't know you had my number."
"I'm a detective. I have everyone's number." Detective Teresa Sawyer's voice was tight as if she were nursing a budding migraine. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
Evelina grabbed Mahogany's shoulder and mouthed, detective.
Mahogany nodded.
"What are you doing?"
Mahogany's brow pulled together. "Talking to you?" She shrugged at Evelina, who rolled her eyes.
"What were you doing at Saree Farquoth's house?" Detective Sawyer sighed with the weight of dealing with a thousand idiots daily.
"We were paying our respects. Wait," Mahogany swung around, peering into the park. "Where are you? Are you here?"
"No, I'm at the station, working like an adult." The detective sighed again, and Mahogany could hear her rubbing her face, attempting to scrub the annoyance of this call from her being.
"So, how do you know I was at Saree's?" Mahogany continued to peer into the nearby trees and shrubs for spying equipment, video cameras, listening devices, anything.
"I have officers near Saree's who alerted me that you were there."
"You're surveilling Saree?"
Evelina's mouth dropped open, and Mahogany nodded and placed the phone on speaker.
"That's police business, and you are not police. If I find out you're snooping around this case like last time, you'll spend the night in county lockup."
Evelina stuck her tongue out at Mahogany's phone.
"Not to worry. We're keeping our noses clean," Mahogany said and dramatically crossed her fingers.
Evelina stifled a giggle and pressed the end call button.
"Great sweating Hephaestus, Evelina. You just hung up on a cop." Mahogany stared at her phone in disbelief.
"I know!" Evelina said, her eyes wide and face flushed with defiance and shock.
_____
AN: Whew! Evelina sure did get lucky by not getting caught while snooping around Saree's house like that! But she may have found an important clue in the process. What do you think RW's hanky was doing under her bed?