Murder Under the Tree (22 page)

“Nothing wrong with her eyes,” Deirdre noted after we sat down.

“I wonder why she's here,” I said. “You'd think this would be the last place she'd go, since she seemed to hold Marissa personally responsible for delivering the peanut-filled food item that killed Les.”

“Well, if it wasn't Nancy, who was it?” Elizabeth asked.

“Your answer might have just walked in,” Deirdre said, smiling, nodding at something behind Elizabeth.

Elizabeth and I looked toward the door. Robert Peterson came strolling in. He looked over at Nancy and nodded, then came to our table.

“Deirdre, don't you
dare
say anything to him about Kay,” Elizabeth said under her breath. “In fact, don't say anything to him at all.”

Elizabeth waved at Robert. “We'd love to have you join us, Robert?” Her voice went up.

He sat down next to Elizabeth. “Hello, ladies. How's everyone doing?”

I reached up to adjust the scarf I wore to make sure it was covering my throat. “Very well, Robert. Thank you.”

Elizabeth and Deirdre followed my cue and made polite assurances that they were well.

“So, Robert, I've seen you at Hawthorne Hills a couple of times. I understand you will soon be the new owner.”

Elizabeth shot me a brief warning glance, imploring me not to relaunch my investigation just now.

Marissa came over to take our orders.

Elizabeth smiled and whispered in my ear, “Behave!”

I gave Marissa my order, then watched Robert as he did. What else were you doing, Robert? Chopping down icicles so I would get skewered? And what about last night, when I was fixing the string of lights on my tree? Oh my gosh. He was at both places when an attempt was made on my life. But he doesn't have any bruising by his eyes.

“Kay...Kay,” Elizabeth said. “Robert is answering your question.”

“As I was saying,” Robert continued, “I've been shadowing members of the staff at Hawthorne Hills, just so that I know how the place is run when it's time for me to take over. I'm hoping to be a more hands-on owner. Also my sister, Celine Winterberg is the new nurse at Hawthorne Hills. Celine cared for my wife while she was ill. She's
one
of the reasons I'm here.” He looked over at Elizabeth when he said
one
.

Robert was no longer being subtle about his connection to Elizabeth, whatever that might be. It seemed obvious that he had specifically chosen Sudbury Falls because of Elizabeth, whom he must have known lived here. John perhaps had more reason to worry than initially expected. So did Elizabeth, for that matter. I noticed for the first time that Elizabeth was starting to understand the gravity of this situation with Robert; she appeared to regard him warily. Her smile went stiff. I could sense her body tensing.

Deirdre, who apparently had decided to be tactless with Robert going forward asked, “What were your other reasons?”

Elizabeth kicked Deirdre under the table, which caused Deirdre to yelp suddenly. Elizabeth’s eyes seemed to bulge out at Deirdre. She cringed.

Robert looked between the two of them.

Just then the door opened, and in walked Sheila wearing sunglasses. The day was gray and snowy. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw us, but quickly recovered and walked over to Nancy's table.

“Look at those huge sunglasses she's wearing,” I whispered to Deirdre. “If Nancy's eyes are just fine, I'll bet Sheila's covering something up with those great big things.”

Deirdre took a sip of her tea. “I'm not one to question signs from the cosmos.”

Nancy and Sheila must have noticed us looking over at them, because Nancy suddenly threw down some money on the table, and they both got up. Nancy put her coat on. I decided to make my move.

“Dreary day to be wearing sunglasses, Sheila,” I said, walking briskly to get myself between their table and the door.

“Get out of my way.” Her head tilted down.

“What are you looking at? Your handiwork on my neck?”

“Get out of our way, or we'll have to call the police,” Nancy said.

Robert walked over. Elizabeth and Deirdre followed.

“Nancy, what's the problem here?” Robert asked.

“This woman.” She motioned toward me. “She won't let us pass, and it's starting to make me mad.”

Elizabeth seized the opportunity to approach Sheila from behind and slipped her sunglasses off.

“What are you doing?” Sheila screamed and shot daggers at Elizabeth. Sheila made an attempt to cover her face with her hands, shying away from us. But I saw.

Her eyes were bloodshot. The skin around Sheila's eyes was sloppily caked with foundation that did little to covered the bruising underneath. I looked upon the person who had tried to kill me once, probably twice, with a mixture of hatred and triumph.

Deirdre gasped. “Look at her eyes!”

“I'm putting you under citizen's arrest, Sheila Harris, for assaulting me yesterday evening.” I glanced over at Marissa. “Marissa, call the police!”

Marissa went on the phone behind the counter.

I heard Elizabeth say to Deirdre, “Oh this is good. Kay's making a citizen's arrest.”

“Is that legal?” Deirdre asked.

“Whether it is or it isn't, I'm sure Kay doesn't care,” Elizabeth said.

Nancy exclaimed, “This is ridiculous!” and started toward Sheila, but Robert blocked the way.

I went on as Marissa came back over to us. “They're on their way, Kay.”

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” I was on a roll!

Soon we heard the sirens coming down the street and stopping outside the patisserie. Two officers came in and, when the situation was explained, took Sheila to the back of their squad car. I collapsed into the chair closest to the door. A killer was in the hands of the law, for now, but I had a nagging hunch this wouldn't be the end of Sheila.

* * * *

After all of this happened, I came home and figured I'd better come clean with Phil. When I walked into the living room, I saw him building a fire in the fireplace. Perfect timing. I turned around, went downstairs, and brought up a bottle of red wine, figuring what could be better than wine by the fire on a cold winter's early evening. By the time I came back into the room, a cozy fire crackled next to the lights of the Christmas tree, giving off a great wintry smell of the burning logs.

I put the bottle of wine and the glasses on the coffee table and walked over to Phil who was still sitting on the floor and kissed the back of his neck.

He turned and looked affectionately at me. “Thank you,” he said. “I made a nice fire for us.”

I sat down on the sofa and poured the wine. Phil put on some soft jazzy music.

He sat down next to me. How pleasant it was to have him so near. “This is a great way to start the week,” he said, then returned my kiss.

I took a sip of my wine. “Phil, I think we should talk.”

He took a sip of his. “Talk?” he said with a smile. “You really want to talk?”

“Yes. I really do. I need to tell you that I've been investigating Les' murder.”

Phil opened his mouth to say something. I took charge of the conversation. “I know you told me not to, but I couldn't stand by and let the murderers get away. There has to be justice for everyone, not just Les and Martin, but also for Sheila and Nancy.”

Phil put his arms around me. His expression was grave as his words delivered a serious tone, “Kay, did what happen to you last night have anything to do with this?”

“I'm afraid so. I'm sorry, Phil, from keeping this from you. But, you will be relieved to hear that the culprit is now in police custody.”

“Why do
you
always have to see that justice is done?” He lightly stroked my wrist with his fingers. “I don't want anything to happen to you. You can see how putting yourself in danger like this is difficult for the people who care about you.”

“Someone has to see to it,” I replied. Phil finished his wine and poured himself another glass. As I proceeded to tell him everything that had transpired thus far, his eyes went wide. He listened to me more than he spoke.

After I finished, he put his glass on the coffee table and looked up. His eyes met mine. “All of this must have been so traumatic for you. You're brave and courageous, Kay, but I'm concerned about your safety.”

My eyes were intent on his. Phil leaned over and kissed me on my lips. I returned his kiss, making it into a real one. Turning towards him, I wrapped my arms around him. He drew his body closer to mine. Our lips met again. My body responded to his touch, feeling a swell of happiness inside. Then Phil took my hand and invited me down onto the carpet.

We were in front of the crackling fireplace, our clothes laying in heaps around the hearth when...

Rrring! Rrring! Rrring!

“Oh my God! Let the answering machine pick it up,” Phil said.

We both laughed.

“
Hello. You have reached 715-123-4567. Please leave a message after the beep.”

A distorted voice invaded the room.

“BACK OFF OR YOU'RE NEXT!”

Tuesday, January 6

I picked up Deirdre and Elizabeth at nine o'clock and we drove down to the police station. Phil had left for school and I promised him I would be careful. He was worried about the message left on the answering machine last night. Actually, so was I. I knew for sure, who hadn’t done it. Sheila. She was in jail. But, who else would do such a thing? When we called the police we gave them the caller ID number and they learned the called had been made from a waiting room at the free clinic. Anyone off the street could have walked into the clinic and accessed the phone. Yet no one had seen or heard anything unusual.

Well, this would all have to wait until later. We were now on our way to learn what the police had gotten out of Sheila. Had she confessed to my attack and Les' murder?

When we arrived, I told the desk sergeant that we would like to speak with Chief Kirk. I was told he was out of the office. Somehow I had my doubts that was the truth.

“Did Sheila Harris confess to my assault?”

“We released Ms. Harris this morning.”

“What?” we all exclaimed.

“How could that be, Warren?” Elizabeth asked.

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” I said.

“Oh, we go way back. Warren worked at the library just before he enrolled in the police force. How’s your wife, Warren?”

“She’s fine. And the kids are fine too.” He paused, then added, “Chief Kirk was out of town yesterday. Early this morning, upon learning of the arrest, he released Ms. Harris and reprimanded the two officers that brought her in.” In a quiet voice he added, looking at Elizabeth, “Kirk was steaming mad.” He continued, “Other than circumstantial evidence, we didn't have anything to hold her on.”

“I can't believe this,” I said.

“The evening you were attacked, she was supervising the kitchen from four until seven o'clock. Nancy Reinhardt corroborated this, saying she spoke with her about six o'clock that evening at Hawthorne Hills.”

“Nancy Reinhardt is Sheila's aunt,” Deirdre said. “Of course she would cover for her.”

“What about her bloodshot eyes and the bruising?” I asked.

“She felt ill and fainted in the bathroom at the Home. Luckily the nurse was working late. Sheila stumbled into her office and the nurse examined her.”

I swallowed hard. More like she stumbled there after she came back from strangling me. “I could buy that if it was her forehead or her cheekbones or even her chin, but under her eyes, where I pushed my assailant?”

“What can I tell you? She had an iron-clad alibi.”

“Shouldn't Kay have been notified that you were releasing Sheila?” Elizabeth asked.

“Notified? Elizabeth, your friend here is lucky Ms. Harris isn't going to press charges against her or you for that matter.”

Elizabeth folded her arms and gave a piercing stare and then said, “Me?”

“Ms. Harris said you tore off her glasses.”

He looked over at me. “We do have a double patrol on your block. Still need to find the person who attacked you.”

Sheila probably didn't press charges so she could try and kill me again; couldn't do that if I was in a jail cell. How long could my luck hold out? Would three times be the charm?

On the way to the car, I said to Elizabeth and Deirdre, “Sheila only would have needed about twenty minutes to have gotten to my home, attempt to strangle me, and get back to the retirement home with five minutes to spare.”

“But how would she have known you would be coming home at that time?” Deirdre asked.

“Better question,” Elizabeth said. “How could she have foreseen that you would be fixing a string of lights?”

“I had just been at the Hawthorne Hills accusing Nancy of killing Les. Nancy could have told her of our conversation.”

“Then Sheila came over to silence you,” Deirdre said.

“She could have even followed you home,” Elizabeth added.

I unlocked the car doors. We all got in. “Should we continue this at Marissa's?” Deirdre asked. “We never did get a chance to eat yesterday.”

Elizabeth paused for a few moments and looked distracted like something was on her mind. “Let's go to my house,” Elizabeth said. “I have some homemade muffins. I want to share something with you and Deirdre.”

“Are the homemade muffins the same kind you brought over to your stalker?” Deirdre asked smiling.

I thought that was a little unfair after the way Robert helped us handle Nancy and Sheila.

Elizabeth did not return the smile. “Deirdre, that's not funny.” She looked out her side window.

I heard a noise and glanced over at her. Had she just ground her teeth? “Muffins sound great, Elizabeth,” I said.

As I turned the corner to head back home, I looked at Deirdre in the rearview mirror. She looked back at me in the mirror and shrugged her shoulders.

After several moments of silence, I said, “When Nancy was considering being in Phil and Mike's band, the guys might have told her they practiced Sunday nights. Nancy could have passed this information on to Sheila, who figured I would be home alone.”