Carnage Goes Coastal, the sixth Claire Gulliver Mystery

By Gayle Wigglesworth

It’s a tired old story of a single working girl, who foolishly becomes pregnant only to find her beloved partner rejects her and disappears from her life. But in this story that’s where the situation takes a turn for the worse. What is it about this particular story and this particular girl which motivates someone to murder her?
When Karen Rallins finds herself playing the female lead in this terrifying drama, she immediately takes action to protect herself and her unborn child.
She has been living in New York City since graduating from college and had prided herself on her city smarts, only now to realize she has been hopelessly naïve. At first she was only furious, at herself for her stupidity, and at her boyfriend for his duplicity.
Now she is truly terrified. She realizes she has to get out of the City. She needs to find a sanctuary. Desperate, she calls her father, but when has he ever around when she needs him? However, this time when she calls, instead of her father a woman answers, and she offers hope...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gayle Wigglesworth
• Release date: Sep 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465971586

Gayle Wigglesworth

Gayle has always been torn between her skills at organization and management and the creative arts. As a young woman she moved to San Francisco on what she considered her life’s adventure. And while she took a job in the banking community to support herself, she really wanted to write mystery novels. Unfortunately, while living alone in a “big” city and typing her novel in the late hours of the night, she frightened herself with her plot line and had to pack it away. In fact, she no longer would even read her beloved mysteries; it was way too scary. So instead of writing she concentrated all her energies on her career, eventually rising to the level of a Senior Vice President. She continued to pursue her creative side by continuing art courses and she became an accomplished potter producing unique pottery, both on the wheel and by hand. Eventually, the children grown and living on their own, Gayle returned to her mysteries and to her writing. Gayle lived her whole life in California so when her company was sold and she found herself in the latter years looking for a job it was a shock to realize she may have to relocate. She accepted a position in Houston, but her husband assured her they would regard it as a “foreign assignment” and they could move back to the San Francisco Bay Area when she was ready to retire. Little did they know that they would love Houston Texas where they now live. However, with all their family and friends back it California it was difficult to continue the traditional family get-togethers they habitually hosted. Her children whined, “Who’s gonna cook?” and called at all times of the day and night for recipes and instructions, which inspired Gayle to write “the book.” Gayle’s Legacy, Recipes, Hints and Stories Culled from a Lifelong Relationship with Food makes it possible for the traditions to continue, albeit, with other people now hosting the meals. This cookbook is more than a collection of recipes, it’s a “how to” book. This book, including detailed steps for creating the family’s favorite recipes while entertainingly telling family history through the vignettes and photographs, was published in 2003. When the company Gayle worked with in Texas was sold, she decided there was a message to her in that. Instead of taking another position she elected to retire early and concentrate on her writing. She was determined to write and publish a mystery. Because Gayle and her husband love to travel and have done so extensively, she followed the advice of the experts, “write what you know.” Gayle developed a concept for a mystery series where the protagonist, Claire Gulliver, a librarian-turned-travel-bookshop-owner is a nice person who, somehow while traveling, becomes embroiled in situations that are not nice; in fact, sometimes these situations are downright terrifying. Currently five Claire Gulliver Mysteries have been published. Gayle is currently finishing the sixth which is due out at the end of 2010. Meanwhile she finished a stand a long mystery, Mud to Ashes, which was published in 2009. She is working on another series, called Glenda at Large. Gayle spends her time writing, potting, reading, traveling and cooking. You can see her at many of the mystery book conferences promoting her mysteries, occasionally she will conduct a cooking class to promote her cookbook, conduct a workshop to help people learn to write their own family history/cookbook and once in a while she will do some contract consulting in the banking world. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America.

Book preview

Part 1

CHAPTER 1

April, 2003

Her feet hurt, and her back ached. All in all, she thought as she made her way down the grimy subway stairs, it had been an awful day. She released the catch on her umbrella to lower it, shaking the icy rain off as she folded it and headed for her platform. The weather was just one more bit of nastiness in a day where nothing had gone right. She couldn't wait to get home and into her pajama's. She was already thinking longingly about heating a can of tomato soup and sprinkling a liberal handful of crushed Cheez-its on top.

The train was coming. She could feel the wind pushing ahead through the tunnel as she waited near the edge of the platform. Suddenly she was flying forward, her arms waving in a panic, reaching for something, anything to stop her from diving into the empty space in front of her. A hand grabbed her arm jerking her back to the platform so her toes again felt the security of something solid beneath them. Another jerk had her balanced on the balls of her feet once again, and the man's second hand steadied her as the suction from the train sliding to a stop at the platform in front of them still tugged at her. The doors whooshed opened. She felt dazed as she glanced at the man who was still tightly gripping her arm. Then the crowd surged forward sweeping them along, still attached, into the car.

What happened? Are you all right? Did you faint? he murmured softly, his face filled with concern, as the crowd kept pushing.

She tried to smile her thanks, but it was no use, her face seemed frozen in shock and her lips couldn't stop shaking enough to stretch into a smile. He was pushed further into the car, his hand finally released her when she refused to let go of the pole she was hugging near the doorway. She was hanging on for dear life, fearing her quivering knees wouldn't hold her up much longer.

When the train started moving she couldn't see the man. By then he must have been pushed back somewhere near the end of the subway car. As she scanned the faces in the crush of bodies around her she wondered if the person who pushed her was amongst them. That thought frightened her even more so she clutched the pole tighter. She remembered the feel of those hands on her back. She still felt the power in that mighty shove which had sent her hurdling forward, with no way to stop from falling on to the tracks in front of the train.

But she did stop, she reminded herself sternly. She didn't fall thanks to that man in the wet raincoat, standing next to her. He was quick enough to grab her flailing arm, and strong enough to jerk her back, stopping her just before she dropped into space.

Did it really happen? She wondered silently, could the whole incident have only been her imagination?

No one was staring at her. No one seemed to be concerned. She looked from person to person in the packed car. That's when she realized how fast the train had been progressing through its normal string of stations. She recognized they had just left the station before hers. The people she had been studying near her had been constantly changing as new people got on and others were positioning themselves to get off. Probably none of these people had even been standing near her on the platform when she was pushed. She still couldn't see the man who saved her. But he might have gone through to the next car. She wasn't even sure if she would recognize him if she saw him again.

When the train opened its doors and spit her out along with the others wanting this stop, she stumbled to the stairs and then up to the street to find it was still raining. It wasn't until she went to open her umbrella she realized she was no longer carrying an umbrella. She must have dropped it in her struggle on the train platform. It hardly mattered, she thought, she'd been wet before. She turned up her coat collar and hurried down the street, anxious to reach the safety of her building, the warmth of her apartment.

She was thoroughly chilled when she finally let herself into her apartment, and now she was more interested in a hot shower than the soup she had been hungering for. When she emerged later, warm and cozy in her old shapeless sweats she remembered the can of Campbell's Cream of Tomato soup. While it heated in the saucepan, she found the box of Cheez-its and crammed a fistful in her mouth while she assembled the bowl, spoon and a glass of milk. She somehow managed to put what happened in the subway out of her mind while she fixed her simple meal. But later, the bowl of soup only half finished, it all came back in such a rush she had to fight to keep the soup down.

Now she couldn't forget one bit of it as it played over and over in her mind. She huddled on the sofa, wrapped in a soft throw she kept folded on the back, sipping a mug of herbal tea trying to make sense of the whole thing. By the early hours of the morning she had decided only one thing. She had to get away for a bit. She needed some space to decide what to do about this situation. She needed to make a lot of decisions about her life and her future. She dialed her boss's extension at the office, confident no one would be there to answer at this time of the night, or to ask her a lot of questions she didn't want to answer. She left a voice message saying she was taking a couple days off for health reasons and would contact him early next week to explain everything. That settled, she was relieved enough to doze on the couch for the remaining few hours of darkness.

In the morning she was on her way to Grand Central Station by nine o'clock. She was towing her small wheelie bag and had her big pouchy purse hung over her shoulder. She only paused for a bit at an ATM to get some cash and then continued on her way. She knew just where she was going. She had visited this little town once on her way to somewhere else and had been impressed by it. It was too long a commute for city workers to settle there, so it remained small and picturesque. The shopping area was a little larger than a village, but not really a city, nevertheless there was a nice selection of shops and restaurants. And she remembered in particular a small bed and breakfast on the edge of town that had looked charming. The day she was there she had noticed the wraparound porch with rocking chairs, which invited guests to sit and contemplate the lovely gardens surrounding the house. She knew there wouldn't be anything blooming in the garden this early in spring, but she could still sit on the porch and think. She had lots to think about.

CHAPTER 2

The Prior May

She perched wearily at the bar in the Oak Room at the Plaza wondering how much longer she was going to have to hang around. This wasn't her kind of fun; generally she preferred one of the clubs where the music attracted people closer to her age. But since she had made the arrangements for the party, she felt obligated to act the part of host, even though she wasn't really. Her boss's boss was retiring from Crocker, Berry and Sneed Agency after thirty years of devoted service to the company. The custom was to have a dinner celebration to bid the retiree adieu. And since her boss was being promoted into Ben's soon to be vacated position, he volunteered her to organize the dinner.

She hadn't really minded. She liked Ben and she liked her position as Mark Irving's right hand man. Executive Assistant was her official title. Someday, after she learned the business from the ground up, she intended to be a power in the organization. Meanwhile, she put together this company sponsored dinner to be held in a private banquet room at the Plaza, consulted with Ben Goldmeir's wife on the choice of a parting gift for him and got the staff committed to being there. It was a lot of work, but so much easier when someone else was paying the bill.

And the dinner went well. Everyone seemed to have a good time, especially her boss, who now had control of the finance department at the agency; and Ben Goldmeir, who was soon heading off to visit his grandchildren in Tel Aviv for six months.

In fact people were having such a good time that, rather than leave, they just migrated into the bar to continue the party. Most of the younger crowd had drifted away already, but the older ones were still there, getting louder and more raucous as the evening progressed. She had been a little worried about the group's reception in the sedate, posh atmosphere of the Oak Room, but so far the maître d' seemed willing to tolerate them.

They were still going strong and showed no signs of calling it a night. She didn't have the stamina they had so had distanced herself from them while waiting to settle up the bar bill when everyone was finally finished. She had stopped drinking a while ago so she was nursing a flat Seven-Up while struggling to keep her eyes open when the man sitting next to her asked, You part of that big group?

She nodded.

So what's the occasion? They look like they're having too much fun for just a drink before bed.

She sat up then and took notice. He was attractive, tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair and startling blue eyes, framed by little laugh lines crinkled at the corners. But mostly she responded to his smile, framed as it was by a slightly flamboyant dark beard and mustache. It sent shivers up her spine. Retirement party for one of the favorite vice presidents. He's been with the company for a long time so there are a million stories to tell. I'm afraid they’ll be hours yet.

He nodded with a sympathetic smile. And you have to stay to the end because why?

She smiled back, it felt good. Someone has to take care of the bill....

Ahhh..., you?

She nodded. My boss volunteered me, then shrugged, It's my job.

Sounds like a fun job. Can I get you another drink while you're waiting?

She nodded again, suddenly not feeling quite so tired. Seven-Up, with lots of ice, please.

After the bartender replaced her drink and she raised the glass to him in thanks, he said, I'm Scott Hutchins, from Philadelphia.

Of course it was only polite to reply. I'm Karen Rallins, from New York.

The rest of the evening flew by. When the bar finally closed she was almost annoyed it was time to settle the bill. Scott thanked her for her company, as he escorted her to the door and waited politely until a cab picked her up.

She was filled with disappointment when he let her go without asking for her phone number or address. She was young and reasonably good looking, so she expected to be hit on in New York bars. She had been sure he would make some effort to entice her to agree to a romp in a hotel room before the night was over. Scott, apparently, was too much the gentleman. Disappointed, she shrugged it off. It had been a delightful few hours and this encounter had provided lots of material to build into dreams for those nights she found it difficult to fall asleep.

The next day was a long struggle to stay alert, but at least she wasn't the only one at the office who was operating with a sleep deprived brain. It was during the last countdown to quitting time when she answered the phone to find Scott on the line.

How did you find me? Her face flushed with pleasure while her heart beat a happy tattoo in her breast.

I just asked information for a number for Crocker, Berry and Sneed. I didn't think there would be many of them. And I was right.

She could hear the smile in his voice coming over the phone line.

So, how's your day going? he asked with a hint of laughter.

She chuckled. It's a little slow around here today and definitely there are no loud noises.

I can imagine. I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight. I'm not looking forward to another night of hanging out in a bar by myself, no matter how nice the bar is.

She didn't even try to make him convince her. I'd love to join you. I enjoyed talking with you last night. So, where and when?

They agreed to meet at a small Indian Restaurant he had heard about down in the Village and suddenly she felt energetic again. Scott had told her the night before he was a lawyer and he was consulting with a company here on a legal issue. He said he would be in town until the following Tuesday and then several days every few weeks until the project was completed. She was already imagining all the fun they could have.

They had a wonderful dinner that night and subsequently spent every evening together, including all day Saturday and Sunday. It seemed inevitable that by Saturday night she was spending the nights with him at his hotel as well as the days. She couldn't believe her luck in meeting him.

This was the man of her dreams. He was charming and funny and attentive. He was ten years older than her twenty-five years, which made him seem appealingly mature. He explained how after he completed law school, he had been recruited at one of the prestigious Philadelphian law firms where the interns spent eighty hours a week working if they had any expectations of becoming a junior partner. He was a naturally competitive person and now he was well on his way to becoming a senior partner. Unfortunately, the work and hours required to succeed at his company had not allowed him time to develop a social life. Suddenly, on this trip to New York he felt the need for some company, and so, there he was in the Oak Room at the bar just at the perfect time to meet Karen. It was kismet.

Scott wasn't Karen's first lover, but she was fast becoming certain that he would be her last. They just seemed perfect together. They liked the same things; they found the same silliness in situations; so they enjoyed their times together.

Naturally when Thanksgiving rolled around Karen was disappointed they couldn't be together, but she understood about his earlier commitment to spend the holiday with his sister and her family in Colorado. She anxiously waited for his return at the beginning of December to share her exciting news.

She had been shocked to find she was pregnant, but not really alarmed. By this time their relationship had progressed to the point that marriage seemed inevitable. She assumed her condition would only push them more quickly into the decision they were fast approaching anyway. The more they saw of each other the closer they became. And the periods he was at home in Philadelphia and they were separated, were hard on them both.

When he called and asked her to meet him in his hotel room at the W instead of a restaurant, she smiled, pleased. She knew that meant he had missed her as much as she missed him and he didn't want to wait for lovemaking until after dinner.

Afterwards, while he was pouring the champagne he had thoughtfully ordered, she told him the news. He froze, and then turned and stared at her. She was surprised to see his eyes had turned from that beautiful blue to a frosty grey. His expression was cold as he said, That's impossible. You’ll need to have it taken care of immediately.

She was stupefied. What are you saying?

I’m saying I'm not going to have a child. I don't want a child. I don't want the responsibility of bringing one into the world. You should have asked me before you got pregnant."

She gasped, not believing what she was hearing.

You will have to get rid of it. You have to have an abortion, he continued with ice in his voice.

A chill crept over her. An abortion? Scott, what are you saying? This is a child, our child, we can't kill it! It was conceived from our love. Why can't we just get married?

Then abandoning her pride, she pleaded, I know we didn't plan for a child, but surely it will only speed up our decision to marry.

He drew himself up in a stiff righteous pose. What don't you understand about my words? I don't want a child. I don't want to get married. He paused a moment, his face becoming even colder, as he announced cruelly, In fact, I never had any intentions of marrying you. I couldn't, even if I wanted too. I am already married. And I plan to stay married to my wife. So you’ll just have to stop this pregnancy now!

He put the champagne flutes down and began picking up the clothes he had so cavalierly shed when she arrived.

He was married? Now her shock turned to anger. She accused him hotly, You lied to me? All this time you said you were single, and you were married?

Get real, Karen. You didn't believe that story. It was as convenient for you to pretend as it was for me. It made our little romp more fun. It was an excuse to have a hot romance with no strings attached. No one would have believed that story, and naïve though you may be, I know you're not that stupid.

You lied to me? All these months, all your stories, all our plans about the future, and they were all lies? What kind of monster are you? She was breathless with hurt. She could hardly force the words out of her mouth.

Oh, grow up. Of course I lied. I was looking for a diversion, a relationship to help me through a long succession of New York work days. So I lied, as would any man in the same circumstances. You should have known it. I can't believe you didn't know it.

She jumped out of bed and started putting on her clothes while he continued talking. I’m sorry to end it like this, but I was going to break it off tonight anyway. My work here is about finished and with the holidays coming up, it's time.

Karen grabbed her coat and purse and headed for the door, unable to trust herself to say anything more.

Karen, he called, Karen, you will need to take care of this matter immediately. Do you hear me?

* * *

The slam of the door reverberated through the room and Scott realized he hadn't handled this situation as well as he planned. It was the shock of Karen so casually announcing her pregnancy that did it. The stupid fool! Pregnant! Why on earth did she think he would be happy to hear that news? But now thinking about it, he realized her news was what put him in a panic. That's why he lost control of the situation. He thought back to his meeting last week.

Mr. Smythe is at the pool, Mr. Ellington; he's expecting you. The housekeeper gestured toward the doors to the terrace.

Scott nodded cordially at her. He knew the way through the elegant house. He smiled remembering how intimidated he had been that first time he had visited. Phoebe had taken him home to meet her parents, but they both knew the real reason for the visit was so he could be vetted before being invited to a social occasion at the house. And obviously he passed the inspection. He had been appropriately nervous. He was not only intrigued with the beautiful Phoebe, but he was well aware she came from money and he understood how advantageous that could be to his career. He wanted to be accepted. He wanted to be a part of a prestigious family and it wasn't long until he married into the Smythe family.

Scott wasn't surprised to find his father-in-law sitting out by the pool. He knew he started his day swimming laps despite the chill in the November days. Sure enough he was sitting at the table in a thick terry cloth robe, tanned and virile looking despite a full head of white hair testifying to his age. Scott, my boy, good of you to come by so early. He held out his hand for a shake. Even though his expression was genial, the sharp gleam in his eyes got Scott's attention.

Stanford, you're looking good this morning. Scott nodded cordially while he pulled out one of the chairs and sat down at the table.

Would you like some breakfast? Or coffee?

No coffee, I'm trying to cut back, but a glass of orange juice would be good.

Stanford nodded and murmured to the maid who had silently appeared behind him. When she disappeared, Stanford turned back to his son-in-law. Well, Scott, how's that redevelopment project coming? I haven't had an update for a while.

It's very interesting. We've been working with a group in New York who are developing a similar project, only they're about two years ahead of us. We've picked up a lot of information which will help us streamline our process. I think you're going to be impressed when you see the results. Stanford nodded. "Good, good. That's what I want