“Or he was still alive and she just ran out because he was a jerk,” Nans said.
“Then Eddie shows up,” Ruth said. “Maybe he killed him.”
“Unless it really was an accident,” Helen suggested.
“Stanley could have been climbing the shelf for his lockbox,” Nans said.
“And it collapsed.” Ida crunched into a cookie to illustrate.
“But if Stanley was dead, why did neither of them call the police?” Ruth asked.
“And what about the glitter on Eddie’s shoe?” Ida said. “Vivian mentioned a glittery bag that got stolen.”
Nans stood. “Ladies, I think we need to talk to Vivian.”
CHAPTER TEN
They found Vivian in the function room again, this time standing alone near the far window. The vendor tables were mostly set up now, red tablecloths draped, signs in place. But Vivian wasn’t looking at her work. She was staring out at the snowy town square, her arms wrapped around herself.
She turned when she heard them approach, and her face went carefully blank.
“Ladies,” she said, her voice tight. “If you’re here to?—“
“We need to talk to you about this morning,” Nans said, not unkindly.
Vivian’s jaw tightened. “I already told you. I came in around six.”
“Vivian,” Ruth said, pulling out her iPad. “Did you go to the storage room this morning before six?”
“No.” The answer came too fast. “I told you, I was at home.”
Nans folded her hands. “We have security camera footage from the Florio’s restaurant. It shows someone in a red coat with a fur-trimmed hood entering the back of town hall at five-eighteen this morning.”
Vivian’s face went pale. Her arms dropped to her sides.
“I...” She looked from Nans to Ruth to Helen to Ida, her eyes wide and panicked. “I didn’t... I wasn’t...”
“Vivian,” Helen said gently. “We’re not accusing you. We just need to know what happened.”
Vivian’s shoulders sagged. She walked over to one of the vendor tables and gripped the edge like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. I did go there. I was supposed to meet Stanley and I remembered I left my bag in the storage room—the one I thought someone stole? I felt terrible because I’d been accusing people of taking it, and I realized it was my own fault for leaving it behind.”
“So you went to get it,” Ruth said.
“Yes.” Vivian nodded quickly. “Stanley wanted to meet early. I thought—I thought if I got there first, I could grab my bag before he saw it and made some comment about how careless I was.”
Ida leaned forward. “And what did you find?”
Vivian’s eyes filled with tears. “Stanley. He was... he was lying under the shelf. The whole thing had collapsed. And there was a lockbox—the one he was always so secretive about—it had hit him in the head. There was blood.”
Helen’s hand went to her throat. “Oh, dear.”
“Was he moving?” Nans asked, her voice calm and steady.
Vivian shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “No. He wasn’t moving. I checked—I got close enough to see, but I didn’t touch him. He was just... lying there. Not breathing.”
“What did you do?” Ruth asked quietly.
