Murder at the Starlight Pavilion

By Kay Williamson

On a warm August evening in a Cape Cod community, the popular Starlight Pavilion plays host to a brutal murder. When twenty-one year old Tammy Wilson is found strangled under the steps of the pavilion, Detective Mike Farnham is called in to solve the crime.

The night of the murder, beautiful and tenacious Killette Bennett, a college English professor and murder mystery aficionado is at The Starlight on a first date with charismatic Lance Sterling. Just before the murder occurs, Killette receives a warning note written with lipstick on the bathroom mirror from Tammy regarding Lance. BE CAREFUL. When Killette questions Lance, he denies being involved with Tammy.

Later, Killette talks to the handsome rugged detective and discovers Lance's real name is Scott Ryder, and he has a record of abusing women. However Scott is not the only suspect with motive and opportunity. There are three others, and they all harbor secrets.

There is Carl Sharp, enigmatic bartender at The Starlight, Dr. Charles Rayburn, Tammy's middle-aged boss, and Monica Wilson, Tammy's arrogant, verbally abusive mother.

As Detective Farnham and Killette become romantically involved and work to solve the murder, Killette finds herself in imminent danger.

"This murder mystery is a fun read with an intriguing plot and interesting characters."
Peggy D. Ball, copy editor for SpaceCoast Living Magazine

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 5, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595910823

Kay Williamson

Kay has been published in various literary anthologies, a national magazine, and served as Feature Editor of East Carolina University's weekly newspaper for two years. A former elementary teacher, Kay and her husband, Don, reside in Florida and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The doorbell’s sharp ring gave Killette Bennett a start. Hurrying down the foyer and glancing at her watch she murmured, Eight p.m. and right on the dot. She opened the front door with anticipation and smiled up at the tall, deeply tanned, and almost-too-handsome man she’d met only that morning while jogging on the beach. Lance Sterling stood resplendent in white trousers and a dark blue shirt opened at the neck. The thought crossed her mind that he looked like an ad in a slick magazine. Come in, Lance, she said, trying not to reveal her nervousness.

Lance entered and pointed to her red and white sundress. I like your dress, Killette.

Thank you. But one might think we’re dressed for a political rally, don’t you think?

He glanced down at his blue and white ensemble and smiled. Possibly. But I don’t think it would matter what you wore, Killette. You’d still look beautiful.

She resisted the urge to return his compliment. I bet he’s broken a heart or two. I’d better be careful. Thanks, Lance. Would you like a glass of wine before we go?

"No thanks. We’ll wait until we get to the dance pavilion, if that’s okay with you.

It’s fine with me. She picked up her purse from the desk.

I’m wearing lightweight shoes in case I step on your toes, Lance kidded, opening the door.

Killette’s laugh floated on the warm night air. Don’t worry. My toes have been stepped on before. Her instincts told her Lance had probably mastered ballroom dancing, and she wondered if he’d been an instructor, since he had all the qualities—handsome, suave, and charming. She looked forward to finding out more about the charismatic that man she’d just met. Of course, at that time, she had no way of knowing her evening with Lance would completely turn her life upside down.

Twenty minutes later, the couple arrived at The Starlight Pavilion only one block from the shore of Cape Cod in the seaside community of Gisburn.

While waiting to be seated, Killette noticed a young, attractive brunette sitting at the bar. She was staring at Lance, and her half smile was more of a smirk. She raised an eyebrow and slowly threw up her hand in a half-hearted greeting to Lance. Sitting next to the brunette, a pretty young blonde dressed in very short white shorts and a white, low-cut blouse glared menacingly at Lance for a moment then quickly turned her head. The girls’ reactions gave Killette a rather strange feeling, but she quickly dismissed her discomfort when the host led them to a table.

After ordering white wine, Lance glanced upward. "What a beautiful August evening, and so perfect for dancing under the stars. Are you brave enough to dance with me, my lady?

I’m brave enough, my lord, but I warn you, I haven’t danced in a while. I hope you’re a strong lead.

Not to worry. He held out his hand and took her into his arms. After a few turns and twirls he whispered, Hm-m. You smell delicious, and you dance divinely.

And you must have taken the Arthur Murray course. I feel like I’m floating on air.

He grinned down at her. Actually, I did take a course in ballroom dancing. I guess you could say dancing is a hobby of mine.

Ah-ha. That explains it. But how about explaining why a pretty young girl gave you an angry look when we first came in. Did you leave her stranded on the dance floor?

Lance chuckled. You must mean Tammy Wilson. Oh, about a month ago I asked her to dance, and we danced quite a bit that night. The next weekend she asked me to dance. She … kind of came on to me and made a few suggestions. I told her she was too young for me, and I guess it hurt her feelings. I never asked her to dance again, and she’s been giving me dirty looks every time I come in. The brunette is Dyan Carty. Guess you could say they’re both regulars.

Oh? You’d think that both of them would have no problem finding dates. They’re certainly attractive enough.

Lance nodded. You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I don’t understand it either. They both do leave with guys sometimes.

So you must be a regular too, Lance.

I guess so. I suppose like Tammy and Dyan, I’ve been looking for that special person. I didn’t find her here, but I did find her on the beach. You have all the qualities I’ve been looking for, Killette. You’re intelligent, mature, you have a sense of humor, you enjoy dancing and jogging, and as a bonus, you’re beautiful.

That sounds like a line to me, she thought with disappointment.

Lance pulled back and gazed at her intently. I can see by your expression you think I’m handing you a line. But I assure you I’m not. I’m sincere about the way I feel about you, Killette.

I guess I just find it difficult to believe a charming man like you has never found a special person.

"I’ve had relationships, but they never worked out, and lately, I’ve given it a lot of thought. In the past, I didn’t have much in common with the women I got involved with. After the sex thing wore off, I lost interest. So I made up my mind I’d look for an intelligent woman who would enjoy some of the things I like. If she happens to be beautiful, then that would be okay, too. When I saw you jogging this morning, I hoped you were unattached, because I knew we’d at least have jogging in common … that is, if you didn’t tell me to bug off’

I don’t quite know what to say.

You don’t have to say anything. I’m not asking for a long-term commitment on our first night out. I only want you to know I appreciate the person you are, and I hope we can see more of each other. I’m sorry if I came on too strong.

Killette inhaled the sensual aroma of his after-shave, relaxed, and moved in rhythm with his body. It’s okay, Lance. I appreciate your compliments. Though she’d only had a few sips of wine, she felt somewhat intoxicated. A handsome and seemingly intelligent man thought her special, but she felt somewhat startled at her next thoughts. If something seems too good to be true, it usually isn’t. She quickly tossed those thoughts aside when she felt Lance moving closer.

So how about you, Killette? Have you ever had a long-term commitment?

I’m divorced and have been concentrating on finishing my doctorate in English literature. She felt him rubbing her back in small circles.

I bet you swore off men. Right?

In a way, I guess I have. Actually, you’re the first man I’ve dated in a while. She laughed nervously. Guess I’ve been happy not to be in a constant emotional upheaval.

I understand. But I hope you don’t think all men are the same. Like me, you just haven’t found the right one.

Killette sighed. "Maybe so, Lance. But how do you ever really know someone until you’ve married? My husband seemed like Mr. Wonderful before we mar-

ried. Too late, I discovered he had another personality." Charming and wonderful just like you, she thought with sudden dismay. She felt him pulling away.

It works both ways, you know. A woman can also have a dual personality.

She gazed into his intense blue eyes. Yes, I know. I didn’t mean to sound so negative about men.

They danced until the musicians went on break, then walked back to their table.

Killette picked up her purse. I think I’ll make a visit to the ladies’ room. Would you excuse me please?

Of course. Do you know where it is?

Yes, I saw the sign when we came in. She walked towards the bar and noticed the young blonde, Tammy, staring at her. However, she didn’t notice when Tammy stood and followed her to the bathroom.

As Killette opened the door to the stall, she noticed Tammy entering. Hm-m. I wonder if she’s going to say something to me.

A few minutes later, Killette exited the stall and was happy not to see Tammy. But when she walked over to the sink, she was startled to see a note on the mirror written in bright red lipstick. BE CAREFUL, she read. Gaping at the message, a feeling of foreboding seeped down her spine. Did Tammy leave that message for me? she asked, her voice just above a whisper. She hurriedly washed her hands and continued talking to herself. I’m going to find Tammy and ask her what she meant by that warning. Maybe she’s jealous and just playing games. I’m too old for this kind of schoolgirl stuff.

But the feeling of foreboding still persisted when she walked by the bar. Tammy was nowhere to be seen. Still feeling unnerved, she headed back to her table which to her consternation was empty! The beautiful evening had suddenly made a wrong turn. Sitting down, she glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes after nine. She estimated that she’d been gone for ten minutes. Where was Lance? She sipped her wine and glanced towards the bar. Tammy had not returned. She watched the musicians pick up their instruments and soon the air was filled with music. She looked at her watch again. Five minutes had passed, and she was beginning to feel awkward. She noticed the girl, Dyan, who had been sitting next to Tammy at the bar, was now dancing with a tall guy in a bright pink shirt. Glancing around, she didn’t see Tammy on the dance floor. When she felt someone touch her lightly on the shoulder, she jumped, then sighed with relief when Lance moved around from behind her.

He looked contrite. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I decided to go to the men’s room and ran into someone I know. I didn’t realize I was gone so long. He sat down in front of her and reached for her hand.

Killette forced a tentative smile. The person you ran into wouldn’t be Tammy, would it?" She noticed his quick change of expression as he withdrew his hand.

His voice was curt. Why do you think I ran into Tammy?

Because when you went to the men’s room, you could have run into Tammy since she was in that vicinity. You see, Tammy followed me into the ladies’ room. When I came out of the stall, I discovered she’d left me a message on the mirror—in lipstick, no less."

Lance’s lifted eyebrows gave him a quizzical expression. That sounds like something out of a bad movie. What was the message?

Just two words: be careful.

Be careful? What do you suppose she meant by that? Are you sure there wasn’t someone else in there who might have left the message for another person?

Killette heaved a sigh. There was no one else there. Perhaps she was playing a childish game. She looks terribly young.

Yes, she does look young, he replied with a shrug. But she’s old enough to buy drinks. I can’t believe she’s still holding a grudge because I turned down her sexual offers and stopped asking her to dance.

She paused and reflected. You know the saying, ‘hell hath felt no fury like a woman scorned.’

Yes, I’m quite familiar with the expression. But don’t you think she’s overreacting. I mean—writing a warning on the bathroom mirror. Be careful of what?

She shook her head. I don’t have a clue.

Lance’s eyes narrowed a fraction. I guess I’ve been a bit of a fool. I shouldn’t have asked someone so young to dance.

Killette’s irritation towards Lance slowly dispersed. It could have happened just as well with an older woman. Young may not have anything to do with it. I suppose you take a chance when you ask any stranger to dance and especially if you ask them for a date. A look of amusement flickered across her face. "For all you know, I might be one of those psycho possessive females you’ve seen in movies.

Lance grinned. Are you trying to scare me?

No, but I’m trying to make the point that when you pick someone up, you don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for. And as we discussed earlier, you really don’t know a person until you’re married. I guess all relationships are about taking chances.

His eyes hardened ever so slightly. I think that could probably be the reason I’ve never married.

Spending your weekends picking up young girls at bars or picking up older girls on the beach may be taking chances you haven’t considered, she concluded but said nothing. After all, hadn’t she allowed herself to be picked up?

He reached for her hand again. I’m sorry. The evening hasn’t turned out to be exactly what I had in mind. But I’m learning some things about myself tonight. I think you’re good for me, Killette. Please say you’ll go out with me again.

I’ll see you again, but perhaps we’d better not come here. We’ll find another place to dance.

I couldn’t agree with you more. His somber expression segued into a broad smile. Let’s dance. It’s a shame to waste good music.

With Lance holding her close, she relaxed once more. Being held by a man who danced so divinely felt nice. She soon forgot the unnerving message on the bathroom mirror and her irritation with Lance for leaving her alone for so long. Still something didn’t feel quite right.

Chapter 2

The next morning, Killette woke to the sound of surf and squawking gulls. She’d told herself many times how fortunate she was to have been able to rent the cottage in Gisburn Beach. She loved living in Boston and teaching at the university, but working on her thesis and living at the Cape this summer was indeed a coup. She stared at the ceiling and ruminated about the previous evening. Lance had kissed her on the cheek and not made a pass when he’d walked her to the door. She was grateful for that. I’ll call you, he’d said as he was leaving. So far he’d been the perfect gentleman. She didn’t feel good about the reception the two girls had given him or the strange incident in the bathroom, but maybe she’d made too much of it. After all, the girls were terribly young.

She bounded out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Nine o’clock, she muttered, a bit disgusted with herself. How am I ever going to get my thesis done sleeping in? She reached over to turn on the small TV on the kitchen counter and switched to a local news channel.

Making coffee, she half listened to the news. But the newscaster got her full attention when he announced, A young woman was found murdered last night at The Starlight Pavilion in Gisburn Beach at Cape Cod. Early this morning, her body was discovered under the deck several yards from the back steps of the establishment. The twenty-one-year-old woman has been identified as Tammy Wilson. The police have evidence she had been strangled but at this time are not revealing any further details. Her parents have offered a reward to anyone who has information that could help the police solve this crime.

Killette’s thoughts were racing as fast as her heart. My God, I could have been the last person to see Tammy alive … that is, except for the murderer. I must call Lance. Wait a minute … I don’t have his phone number. She grabbed the Boston phone book sitting on the counter. Her fingers ran down the pages, but she saw no phone listed under Lance Sterling. He must have an unlisted number. What shall I do?

The phone rang, solving her immediate problem. Hello, she answered a bit breathless.

Killette, this is Lance. I just heard on the news that Tammy Wilson was murdered last night at The Starlight.

Yes, I just heard. Her clammy hands were shaking.

I’d just finished breakfast, and I think I went into shock for a minute. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, though. I noticed Tammy leaving with rough-looking characters on more than one occasion. As you said last evening, there are a lot of psychos out there. She must have finally run into one.

Killette’s legs felt as rubbery as a pair of firemen’s boots. She took the phone to the sofa and plopped down. You know, I looked for Tammy at the bar and on the dance floor, but I never saw her again after she left the ladies’ room. It’s strange she would have left suddenly like that.

His voice sounded curt. Who knows why she left? Dressed in those tight, revealing shorts, the girl was asking for it. If she didn’t leave with anyone, perhaps someone could have been waiting for her outside.

Nervously, Killette twisted a strand of long brown hair around her finger. That’s possible I suppose. I really feel terrible. I think I should contact the police. After all, she wrote me that note on the mirror, and I might have been the last one to see her alive.

Do you really want to get involved with the police, Killette? Won’t it be kind of embarrassing to tell them about the lipstick-on-the-mirror scenario? They might read something into it since it was meant as a threat to you. I mean, you could actually be a suspect.

She could feel her face flushing. Me, a suspect? Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t even know the girl.

I know that, Killette, but the police don’t. You might have a difficult time explaining why she wrote you that threatening note.

She had the urge to slam the phone down but knew she needed to get his phone number. And you might have a difficult time explaining that you knew Tammy, and she was angry with you, not me!

Whoa … calm down, Killette. I was only trying to warn you about what the police might think. I’ve seen enough true-crime TV programs to know how they can twist situations around. I’m just trying to protect you.

Protect me? Her voice rose an octave. I think you’re the one who wants protection. Something was going on with Lance, and she didn’t like it. Why was he so adamant about not wanting her to call the police? Her words were concise. I repeat—I have nothing to hide, and I feel like it’s my duty to talk to the police.

Your duty? I might have known a teacher would choose the duty word, he spat out in a voice laced with sarcasm.

She ignored his comments. Please give me your phone number, Lance. I know the police will want to talk to you also.

The phone suddenly went dead. Lance, Lance, Killette shouted into the phone. My God, he’s hung up, and I don’t know his number. Will the police think I’m a suspect? I can prove I came in with Lance because the girl sitting at the bar with Tammy, saw us. What was her name? Dyan Carty—that’s it. And I’m sure the waiter would remember seeing us. She felt like a fool for allowing herself to be picked up by a smooth operator like Lance, but too late now. She’d have to take her chances with the police. Certainly they would not suspect her of murder. What would be her motive? Jealously perhaps? That’s absurd. She needed to harness her out-of-control imagination. She pulled in a deep breath. Perhaps it would be better to go to the police station instead of calling. She ran towards the bedroom to shower and dress.

An hour later, she entered the Gisburn police station and addressed the pudgy, middle-aged policeman at the desk My name is Killette Bennett, and I would like to speak with someone about the murder at The Starlight Pavilion. She noticed the policeman’s look of interest.

Follow me, please, he said, standing. I’ll take you to Detective Farnham’s office. He’s the investigator on the case.

I must remain calm. I have nothing to hide or to be afraid of. Her self-lecture had no effect on her rapidly beating heart.

The policeman stopped and knocked on the door of a glass-enclosed office.

Killette watched breathlessly as a man with wavy, brown hair streaked with gray glanced up from his desk.

Come on in, he said in a muffled voice behind the glass enclosure.

Following the policeman into the office, she got a better look at the rugged-looking man behind the desk. She watched him stand and estimated he must be around six four, looked to be in his forties, had a slightly pocked complexion, penetrating brown eyes, high cheekbones, hair a bit on the unkempt side, and massive oarsman’s shoulders. She smiled inwardly, realizing she had assessed him much like a detective and thought he could very well be assessing her.

The policeman nodded towards the man behind the large desk piled high with assorted papers. This is Killette Bennett. She wants to talk to you about The Starlight Pavilion murder.

I’m Detective Mike Farnham, he said, holding out his hand.

Killette shook his hand with a tentative smile. Nice to meet you, Detective Farnham.

Have a seat. He pointed to a chair sitting across from his desk.

She heard the policeman close the door as the detective sat down behind his desk.

Now, what can you tell me about the murder?

Killette cleared her throat and wondered where to begin. She decided to start at the beginning and hoped she wouldn’t sound like a silly girl who made a habit of picking up men. So that’s about it, she said when she finished her account of the past two days with the recent phone call from Lance. To be honest, I feel rather foolish. I don’t usually pick up men on the beach or anywhere else for that matter. She wondered if he believed her and felt a flush creeping up her neck.

I believe you, Killette. Do you mind if I call you Killette?

She nodded. Killette will do fine.

If Lance Sterling is your friend’s real name, we’ll be able to find him.

Once again she felt like a fool. I guess I’m really naive. I never gave it a thought that Lance would lie about his name. And by the way, he is no longer a friend.

His smile transformed his face. "I understand. There are some