A Drunkard's Path (24 page)

I got to the shop minutes after our normal ten o’clock opening, and there were already three worried-looking women standing outside the door.

“We thought you weren’t opening today,” one of them said.

“No, sorry, just late,” I told them.

“Eleanor never opens late,” another woman said worriedly.

I smiled and tried to ignore the insult. I opened the door and let them in to wander around the fabric bolts as I started the computer and prepared for the day. Kennette came a few minutes after I did, having stopped at the bakery for muffins and coffee. She was dragging Barney behind her.

“I didn’t want to leave him home,” she explained. “He seems so out of sorts.”

But as she said that, Barney lurched past her and headed to the shop’s office. He was gone for a moment before he walked out again and, tail down, headed toward the classroom.

“Poor thing,” I said as I sipped my coffee, “he’s absolutely lost without Eleanor.”

“It’s kind of like she’s cheating on him with Oliver,” Kennette added. “I’m trying to fill in but I know I’m his second choice.”

I took it as my opportunity. “But you might be someone else’s first choice,” I said. “I heard that Greg gave you a ride home.”

She blushed. “He saw me walking and felt bad. It was really cold outside.”

“Did you have a nice conversation?”

“We did. He was telling me about the investigation. Jesse must be so jazzed to have Greg’s help.”

“Well, Jesse says the investigation has certainly been affected by Greg’s involvement,” I said.

Kennette and I were kept busy dealing with customer after customer. I stayed at the cash register while Kennette cut fabric and tried to help on the floor. When Maggie and Natalie arrived, I put them to work helping customers. Soon Bernie and Susanne were also chipping in.

“Everyone’s asking about Eleanor,” Natalie told me as she waved good-bye to another customer walking out with yards of fabric and the promise of a new quilt.

“She didn’t come home,” I whispered.

Natalie’s eyes widened. “Go Eleanor.”

“Remember that she was with Oliver, and we don’t entirely trust Oliver.”

“Right,” she said. “Still, I’d love to be having nights like that.”

I patted Natalie’s baby bump. “You already have.”

Within minutes Bernie was at my side.

“She didn’t come home at all?” she asked.

“And she didn’t call,” I said.

“Well I’ll find out at dinner tonight.” Bernie smiled. “They’re both coming to my house, and they won’t leave without my getting the full story.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Maggie interrupted. “She’s a grown woman. More than a grown woman. She has the right to do whatever she likes.”

“Anything you want to tell us, Maggie?” Bernie smiled.

“That’s enough gossip about Eleanor’s romantic life,” Maggie said. “Honestly, each generation thinks they invented sex.”

Both Bernie and I suppressed a smile as Maggie walked away.

“I think I’ll get to work on Carrie’s quilt,” Bernie said. She tapped Susanne and Kennette, and the three of them walked toward the classroom where we had planned to finish Carrie’s quilt top.

I checked my watch. It was after one o’clock. There was no sign that the rush at the shop would be letting up anytime soon, but I was anxious for a break. Besides, Barney was hovering by the door, getting in the way of customers.

“If I took ten minutes, would you kill me?” I asked Natalie. “Kennette knows the register if anyone needs to check out.”

“Go for it,” she said.

I grabbed Barney’s collar and led him out into the street. As I did I saw Eleanor jumping out of the passenger side of a police car. She was wearing the same beautiful turquoise dress she had on the night before, but now it was wrinkled.

“Grandma, what’s wrong?” I said, but she didn’t seem to hear me.

Barney ran over to her and wagged excitedly, but Eleanor brushed past him. Greg got out of the driver’s side of the car and followed Eleanor, who was walking past me into the shop.

“Nell,” Eleanor looked around and found Natalie. “Is Nell here?”

“Grandma, I’m right here,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

“Oliver,” she said. “Oliver is in jail. And it’s my fault.”

“Go Eleanor,” Natalie said.

 

 

 

 

“H
e’s not in jail,” Greg said quickly. “He’s been taken for questioning, that’s all.”

“Jesse took Oliver from a date to ask him about the murder?” Natalie sounded angry and confused.

Behind her, Susanne and Bernie seemed ready to storm the jail and break Oliver out. Our suspicions were one thing, I guess, but ruining my grandmother’s date—that was intolerable.

“Not Jesse,” Greg corrected her. “Chief Powell, over in Morristown. He called Jesse about it, and this morning Jesse asked me to pick up Eleanor, um, Mrs. Cassidy, and bring her here.”

“Why didn’t Jesse call Nell?” Bernie asked accusingly.

Greg shifted his feet. “I didn’t ask any questions, ma’am. I’m not exactly Chief Dewalt’s favorite person right now.”

“It’s okay,” I said, though I was a little ticked off that Jesse hadn’t called. “Someone get Eleanor a glass of water. And when you’re calm, Grandma, tell us what happened.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” she snapped. “I’m just angry, that’s all.”

We closed the shop, pushing the customers out without the fabric they had come for. We all went to the classroom and sat around the big table, waiting for Eleanor to tell her story.

“We had dinner at a lovely restaurant near Oliver’s home, so naturally he asked me if I’d like to see his place,” Eleanor said.

“Are they still using that line?” Bernie laughed.

Eleanor shot her a withering look. “For heaven’s sake, Bernadette,” she said, “two people can enjoy each other’s company without it turning into something sordid.”

Bernie nodded. “Sorry. You went to his house . . .”

“Yes.” Eleanor sipped her water. “When we arrived there was a police car from Morristown parked out front. That Chief Powell and another officer were just sitting there, waiting.”

“They didn’t have a warrant,” Greg offered. “So they had to wait outside.”

“Why did they want to look in Oliver’s house?” I asked.

“Well,” Eleanor said, “obviously they think Oliver has something to do with the death of that poor girl.”

“Which one?” I asked, and immediately regretted it.

“The second one,” Eleanor snapped.

“Aside from Oliver knowing Sandra, what would lead Powell to want to search Oliver’s house?”

“How would I know?” Eleanor said. “And Powell wouldn’t tell us.”

“What evidence does he have that Oliver’s involved?” I asked Greg.

“I can’t say,” Greg told me.

“Do you even know?” Maggie asked.

Greg blushed. “No, ma’am. Chief Dewalt didn’t tell me.”

Kennette, who had sat stunned through the whole conversation, looked at all of us, one at a time. “Oliver did not kill Sandra. It’s not possible.”

I smiled at Kennette. I admired her certainty and, out of loyalty to my grandmother, I found myself agreeing with her.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I said to Eleanor. “Did the police find anything incriminating in Oliver’s house?”

“They didn’t go into Oliver’s house. They didn’t have a warrant,” she said slowly. “Greg just told you.”

“That only means they needed Oliver’s permission,” I explained.

“I told Oliver that unless Powell explained himself he shouldn’t let that man put one foot inside the house, so he didn’t,” Eleanor said. “And Powell arrested him.”

“Not arrested,” Greg corrected her again. “They took him in for questioning. And that’s where they’ve been pretty much all night. Powell called Jesse last night.”

“I just feel terrible,” Eleanor said. “If I hadn’t insisted that Oliver stand up to that bully, he could have let them search his house and this would have been over hours ago.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked her. “I would have brought you home.”

My grandmother stared straight ahead.

“Unless the police were questioning you,” I added.

Still nothing.

“Powell was questioning you? What for?”

Greg coughed and we all looked at him. “Powell thought maybe your grandmother might have helped.”

I jumped up. “This is nuts! Somebody take my grandmother home so she can get some sleep.”

“Nell, I’m perfectly capable—” she started to say.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’m going to get some answers.”

I stormed out of the shop. A group of women were waiting outside. Just as I was about to tell them to go home, Eleanor straightened her dress, took a deep breath, and walked to the door.

“I’m sorry for the confusion,” she told them. “Come on in. We’ve got some lovely fabrics that came in just this week.”

We exchanged glances. She was composed and ready for business. I, on the other hand, was looking for blood.

“What does he mean, hauling my grandmother into jail?” I burst into Jesse’s office.

Jesse was at his desk, looking through some paperwork. He looked up at me and quietly answered, “He’s trying to investigate a murder.”

“Sandra’s murder happened in Archers Rest. Assuming that Oliver did have something to do with it, Powell doesn’t have jurisdiction. Just tell him to butt out.”

“Calm down, Nell.”

“What kind of an answer is that? Are you afraid of telling Powell to back off?”

Jesse stood up. “Lower your voice and sit down.” He stood within inches of me, but there was nothing romantic about our proximity. I knew he was making it clear that, at least in this office, he was in charge.

I sat down. As calmly as I could, I asked again, “How does he have the jurisdiction to investigate Sandra’s death?”

“He doesn’t.”

“So why is he?” Every ounce of me was struggling not to scream.

“He’s not. He’s investigating Lily’s murder. We found her just past Morristown, remember. She could have been killed in that town and floated a few hundred yards downriver into Archers Rest.”

I nodded, but the information was slow to sink in. Sure I had suspected that Lily’s and Sandra’s murders were connected, but I had nothing except an old photo. Powell had to have something more.

“Why?” I asked. “Why does Powell think Oliver killed Lily?”

Jesse looked at me. The stern-cop expression slowly melted away and was replaced by the gentle smile of my friend. “You have every reason to be freaked out, with Eleanor getting dragged into this. I don’t want you to worry.” He sat next to me and took my hand. “Oliver is on his way home. I talked with Marty Powell this morning, and he admits that he was a little overzealous. But you have to understand that we’re trying to solve two murders that may be connected.”

“Based on what?” I asked.

“Based on confidential police information.” Jesse kissed me on the cheek. “I was thinking that maybe you could come over for dinner on Wednesday. Maybe it’s time you and Allie got to know each other better.”

“That’s your consolation prize for not telling me what you found out,” I said.

“I take it that’s a yes?”

I nodded and returned his kiss. I wasn’t satisfied with his answer, but I knew if I wanted a better one, I’d have to find it myself. “I should get back to the shop.”

We got up and he walked me from his office to the front door of the police station. As I was walking out the door, Susanne walked in.

“I just got a call from my sister,” she said to Jesse. “What happened to Rich?”

“Breaking and entering,” Jesse said. “Again.”

“It was only at the school.” Susanne sniffed.

“There’s not a list of approved places Rich can break into,” Jesse told her.

“Can I do anything?” I asked Susanne.