Silver Six Crafting Mystery 01 - Basket Case Read online

  “Yes to fingerprints, though I don’t know if they’ll be useful. Everything goes to the state crime lab, and it could be weeks before we get results. But,” he hurried on when I opened my mouth, “the garlic smell points to arsenic, and Miz Sherry Mae and Ms. Henry are being treated accordingly. A small amount makes the victim sick, but it’s not lethal.”

  “That’s the best news yet,” I said, my smile feeling wan but sincere.

  Half an hour later, we got more good news when a white-coated man with tired eyes strolled into the waiting room and headed straight for us. Dr. Lightly introduced himself and gave us good news.

  “Mrs. Cutler responded well to treatment and is stable, but we want to keep her overnight. She’ll be moved to a room shortly, and the nurses will need to get her settled. When they finish, you can stay with her but let her rest.”

  Aster thanked him, and the doctor turned to Eric.

  “The second poisoning patient—ladies, if you’d step away, please? HIPAA laws, you know.”

  “No problem there,” I said. “We know Trudy.”

  He eyed our going-nowhere stances and blew out a breath of defeat. Good man to know a losing battle when he saw one.

  “The patient”—he stressed the omission of her name—“responded excellently to treatment. She’ll be released within the hour, but you can speak with her now if you need to.”

  Eric nodded. “I won’t keep her long.”

  He followed the doctor but hurried out in less than ten minutes.

  “Got a call and need to go,” he said. We must’ve looked frightened, because he added, “It’s nothing to do with you. Tell Miz Sherry Mae hi. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  Aster and I sat again, this time near the wall-mounted TV that had been on all day. Aster tuned in to a home improvement channel and critiqued the landscaping choices. About nine o’clock, the new receptionist who’d been on duty a few hours gave us the happy news that Sherry was being transferred to her second-floor room, and we could go up in twenty minutes.

  Ten minutes later, a nurse escorted Trudy out.

  “There’s no taxi service?” I heard Trudy croak.

  “No, honey. The driver only works late on church nights. Sorry.”

  Aster poked me in the arm. “Go offer her a ride back to the inn.”

  “But Aunt Sherry—”

  “Will keep until you get back. Think of it as a chance to snoop once more before our neighbor meeting tomorrow.”

  There it was. The only reason I could buy into.

  Poor Trudy. I thought she’d kiss my feet when I offered to shuttle her back to the inn. After she’d thanked me half a dozen times just on the way to the car, I questioned her just to stop the thanking. Besides, it was barely a five-minute drive to the inn. If I wanted the scoop, I needed to start digging right away.

  “Where is Hel—I mean, Ms. Elsman? Did you call her to come get you?”

  “I called. She didn’t answer,” Trudy said, her voice sounding painfully raw. “But that’s no surprise. She goes off at all hours of the day and night.” She turned toward me. “You think she poisoned your aunt, don’t you?”

  “It’s crossed my mind.”

  “But then why would she poison her own chocolates?”

  “Because she had no intention of eating them?”

  Trudy sucked in a breath. “Then she gave me the box because she meant to poison me? Why?”

  I put on my detective-show hat. Come on, who doesn’t love Castle?

  “To deflect suspicion from herself to some unknown person.”

  “But that’s horrible.”

  “Diabolical.”

  “And sadly believable.” She slumped in the seat. “She’s going to push someone too far one day.”

  I let that pass as I turned at a corner. “Trudy, why don’t you quit? Tell your boss to shove it?”

  “I—I need to keep this job,” she said, her voice quavering.

  I was quiet a moment, then asked, “What do you do for her?”

  “Look up property and tax records, comparable sales, things like that.”

  “Do you know why she wants land in Lilyvale?”

  Trudy hesitated, and I couldn’t read her expression in the dark interior of the car. “She hasn’t said. Not anything definite anyway.”

  “But you have your own thoughts on the subject?”

  “Right now I can’t think straight about anything, Nixy. I just want to go to bed.”

  I got that. Bed sounded good to me, too, and I’d get there right after I assured myself that Sherry was resting comfortably. Right after Eleanor and Maise relieved Aster and me. I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I desperately needed to decompress.

  Trudy directed me to a parking area in back of the Inn on the Square, reminding me of what Lorna had said about guests using a code and the back staircase after hours. I’d planned to simply drop Trudy off, but when she stumbled getting out of the car, my conscience kicked in. Plus I could hear Aster in my head saying this was another chance to snoop.

  It took Trudy two tries, but she got the code entered, and the door unlocked with an audible click. The staircase was too narrow to climb side by side, so I stayed a step below Trudy, my hand on her back. She turned right at the dimly lit intersecting hallway. At the far end of the hall was an old half-glass door, the glass frosted or textured or both, like I’d seen in noir films. I thought I saw the shadow of a head and shoulders move on the other side of the door, the side where the interior staircase went down to the café, but Trudy stumbled again and I looked away to catch her.

  I put an arm around her waist as she lurched down the hall. A few more steps and she fit a key into an old-style lock. Not saloon-days old-style, but one from the 1930s or thereabouts.

  The room was spacious enough. Queen bed with a fluffy white comforter and a mound of fat pillows. Two nightstands and a dresser from the 1930s or ’40s, nicely refinished. No closet, but a 1930s reproduction wall-mounted clothes hanger with multiple hooks. No bathroom that I could see. An almost-full bottle of water sat on the nightstand nearest to the door.

  Trudy must have notice me scanning the room. “I have to share a bathroom. It doesn’t matter since no one is staying here right now except Jill and me.”

  “Let me guess. She got a room with an en suite bath.”

  “At the other end of the hall.”

  “You sit. I’ll go get you a couple of cool washcloths.”

  “Um-hmm.” She sank to the foot of her bed with a huge sigh, and when I was sure she wasn’t going to do a face-plant on the floor, I hustled back out to find the bathroom.

  It wasn’t far. Another door down, a bathroom with a pedestal sink, toilet, and shower. Open shelves held scented soaps and fluffy linens. I cranked on the cold water, wet two washcloths, and then grabbed a hand towel for good measure. I paused at the door leading down to the café. An EXIT sign above the door shed a little light, and there had to be dim lights on the other side of it, too. I touched the glass, felt the uneven texture, then put my face close to the surface, attempting to see through. No go. The glass was translucent but not transparent. Whatever I thought I saw was long gone anyway.

  I trotted back to Trudy’s room. She had flopped back on the bed, so I folded a cold cloth in half and put it on her forehead.

  “That’s nice,” Trudy mumbled.

  “Trudy, were you given antinausea medicine?” I asked as I snagged the empty white plastic ice bucket and draped the second cloth over its lip.

  “I think so. The nurse said I’d be sleepy.”

  “That’s good, but I’ve put another wet cloth here on the ice bucket beside your water bottle in case you get sick. I put a dry towel on the nightstand, too. Will you be all right by yourself?”

  “Yes. You get back to your aunt. And, Nixy, thank you again for bring
ing me back.”

  “Sure, Trudy. You just rest.”

  I closed her door softly and paused in the hall. I wanted to get back to the hospital, but should I snoop a little more? A second of debate later, I decided to snoop because, hey, who was I to pass up a golden opportunity when it fell into my lap?

  I crept down the hall to where Hellspawn’s room should be, surprised that the old wooden floors didn’t creak. Light leaked from under the last door, so I tiptoed closer. Close enough to suddenly hear Hellspawn’s low-pitched voice. I couldn’t make out words, but from the cadence, she sounded furious.

  Then a voice answered. A male voice. It didn’t sound happy either.

  Chapter Eleven

  I LISTENED FOR ANOTHER MINUTE, HOPING I COULD hear what was being said. No luck. Then someone inside the room moved, cast a shadow in the light seeping from under the door. I scurried back up the hall to the staircase, hoping I’d be long gone before Hellspawn or her visitor came out. Visitor? Hah! That had to be an accomplice.

  I eased open the staircase door to minimize noise, but when another door thunked nearby—near enough to vibrate the staircase—I bolted outside.

  And heard footfalls in the alley. Hellspawn’s accomplice using a different door?

  I scanned my surroundings like any wise woman should do, and spotted a man walking briskly down the short end of the alley behind the inn. When he reached the end of it and turned left at the corner, I saw the side of his face in a security light. A face sporting a bushy full beard just like Clark Tyler’s.

  Had he been in Hellspawn’s room? Merely coming out of the back door of the café? I deduced it was a delivery door I hadn’t noticed earlier, but why was he here so late? I didn’t trot off to find him and ask, but the timing of seeing him sure seemed suspicious. And why was he walking when it made sense to park his car in the lot? Unless he and Lorna lived nearby.

  All the way back to the hospital I tried to place that male voice in Hellspawn’s room. Was it Clark Tyler’s? It could’ve been anyone. I’d only interacted with a handful of men in Lilyvale, and through a closed, heavy door, I wasn’t certain I’d recognize Fred’s, Dab’s, or Eric Shoar’s voices.

  Sherry’s blue Corolla was in the hospital lot, which meant Eleanor and Maise were here for their shift. I parked and hurried to the second floor, where Maise stood chatting with a woman at the nurse’s station. She saw me and waved.

  “Go in and see her,” Maise said.

  I push the extra-wide room door open. The only light came from the bathroom. Sherry was tucked in bed with Aster and Eleanor sitting in more of those hospital-chic chairs. Aster yawned.

  “She’s doing fine,” Eleanor said. “The nurse told us she’d probably be released in the morning after Doc Thorson sees her.”

  Ah yes. Sherry’s primary care physician.

  I went to the bed, touched Sherry’s limp hand, and then brushed my fingers over her hair. In a flash of memory, I recalled doing the same with my mother, and tears I’d been holding for hours trickled down my cheeks. The light in the room changed, and I heard Maise’s sure step.

  I turned my head away, wiped my cheeks, and cleared my throat.

  “Are you ready to go?” Aster asked softly.

  “Ready.”

  Dab and Fred had waited up for us, which didn’t surprise me. Aster filled them in on Sherry’s condition. I assured them both they would be welcome to come with me to the hospital in the morning.

  • • •

  I SLEPT SURPRISINGLY WELL AND AWOKE TO MY phone alarm feeling more upbeat than I had in a week. Not that I’m always Miss Sunshine, but I’m optimistic by nature. I realized that I’d been knocked sideways from the time Detective Shoar demanded I show up in Lilyvale. No matter how valid my concerns about Sherry and company, no matter how justified my anger with Hellspawn, I’d been teetering on emotional ledges, and that just wasn’t me.

  A quick shower and hair washing later, I put a plan in motion. I dressed in the last of my clean clothes, blue jeans and a cotton tank top, then phoned the art gallery. The message I left for Barbra was hurried. “My aunt was rushed to the hospital and I can’t possibly leave her at this point.” All true statements, technically. I’d call again later and actually speak to my boss—if she deigned to speak to me. Meanwhile, I’d given her advance notice that I wouldn’t be in tomorrow. My work ethic conscience was clear.

  My second task was to turn Sherry’s room back over to her. She’d rest better in her own bed, right? Right. So I gathered the bed and bath linens and my own dirty clothes. If I had time to shop for a few items, great, but I doubted that would be today. I threw my toiletries, shoes, folk festival finds, and worn-but-not-dirty things in my small suitcase. Finally, with my phone and tablet in my hobo bag, I grabbed the laundry bundled in a sheet and headed downstairs with renewed energy.

  Aster, Fred, and Dab were already in the kitchen. Aster and Dab raised brows at me. Fred scowled.

  “You fixin’ to leave, missy?”

  “Nope. I’m fixin’ to wash Sherry’s sheets and my own gear. I’m about out of clothes.”

  He blinked. “You’re stayin’?”

  “You bet your nuts and bolts I am.”

  “Yeah? Where you sleepin’?”

  “On the parlor couch.”

  “Humph,” he grouched and picked up his coffee cup. “Better not snore.”

  I grinned. “Aster, where’s the laundry room?”

  “In the basement, but just drop those things over at the door so I can give you the update.”

  I parked my suitcase on the floor, purse atop the suitcase, and crossed the short distance to the basement door to plop the heap of laundry. Next stop, coffeepot.

  “Eleanor and Maise came back at six this morning,” Aster said. “I didn’t hear them come in, but they left a note that Sherry’s vital signs were perfect all night. She slept peacefully and only woke up once.”

  I paused in the act of pouring coffee, a wave of relief washing over me. “Thank God. Any idea when her doctor will release her?”

  “Doc Thorson usually makes his rounds before ten. You could call the nurses’ station to check, but have some breakfast first and tell us if you got any information from Trudy. I was too exhausted to ask about it last night.”

  I snagged an apple and my coffee, sat next to Fred, and nibbled on the apple as I related what little I’d learned from Trudy. I debated mentioning that Clark Tyler had been in the alley, but spilled those beans, too.

  The seniors weren’t impressed.

  “Coulda been out seein’ his honey,” Fred declared.

  “Why, Fred!” Aster exclaimed. “Clark having an affair is just a rumor.”

  “He’s been seen at some peculiar places at peculiar times.”

  Aster waved that away. “What I find interesting is that Trudy wasn’t surprised that we suspected Jill Elsman of poisoning the candy.”

  Fred snorted. “And I’ll bet she knows what that woman wants the land for. You shoulda pushed her harder.”

  “I couldn’t browbeat her, Fred. She was still shaky.”

  “Even so,” Fred said, “if she don’t quit that job now, she’s gotta be in cahoots with that woman, not just her gofer.”

  “I don’t know.” Dab had been quietly turning his cup in a tight circle, looking thoughtful. “I know what it’s like to need a job you’re not always happy doing. I needed the insurance from my job, especially when my Melba was sick.”

  “That’s true enough, but I can’t see the witch payin’ much of a salary, much less health insurance. She’s got somethin’ on Trudy.”

  Aster rapped her knuckles on the table. “The critical information is Elsman’s gentleman visitor. He probably is her accomplice and has been doing all the mischief for Elsman. Is it Clark?” She shrugged. “I don’t see it. Are you certain you can’t place the male vo
ice, Nixy?”

  “Sorry. Both of the voices in the room were too mumbled to catch much other than the argumentative tone.”

  “Hmm. I don’t suppose Lorna and Clark have security cameras. Do you know, Fred?”

  “No idea, but the police ought to ask that. Could be the poisoner was caught deliverin’ the candy.”

  “Aster, Fred! That’s brilliant!” I glanced at the kitchen clock. “I wonder if it’s too early to call Detective Shoar.”

  “Probably not,” Aster said, “but call the hospital first. If Doc Thorson comes early, Sherry’ll be jumping out of her skin to get home.”

  Forty minutes later, I’d talked with a nurse on duty and with Sherry herself. In fact, we’d all talked with Sherry. Aster went upstairs to gather some clean clothing for us to take, and I phoned the detective. On his cell, as Aster insisted I do. I got his voice mail, and rather than leave a long, likely convoluted message, I simply asked him to call me.

  Aster declared she could very well put fresh sheets on Sherry’s bed and clean towels in her bathroom, and that my laundry could wait. I got Fred’s okay to use his bathroom to blast my hair with the dryer until it was merely damp. With Fred’s gruff admonition not to leave my “girly stuff” in his and Dab’s space, I put my hair in a twist and claw-clipped it in place.

  Dab got Fred’s walker in my trunk—without the tool belt attached. I lifted my face to the light breeze of the perfect spring morning, inhaling the moment of calm. Then we were off.

  Sherry looked better than I thought she would, and she insisted on dressing before her doctor came in.

  “If he sees I’m ready to go, he won’t dare make me stay,” she said.

  She sure knew her doctor. Fifteen minutes after she’d dressed in navy blue slacks and a pastel blouse, put on lipstick, and pinched her cheeks, Doc Thorson came in with Fred and Dab right on his heels.

  I loved the man on sight. He had to be near Sherry’s age, not much more than my height, and with a truly caring bedside manner.

  “You’re a wonder to bounce back so fast, Sherry Mae, and you surely were lucky. I don’t suppose this has put you off chocolates?”