A Killer Christmas Party

by Nicole Ellis

  The thought of a kid being so sick socked me in the gut. It seemed like every day I was hearing more and more bad news. “Oh, that’s rough. I don’t blame him for missing work. I’ll stop by another day, ok? It’s not really urgent.”

  She gave me a thumbs-up sign. “Sounds good.”

  I said goodbye and left the retirement home, feeling a sense of relief when I walked out the front doors. The historic building was beautiful, but it had started to feel oppressive.

  I called Desi before I went in to work and asked her to find out from Tomàs if the police were investigating the deaths of the three men at the retirement home. She promised she’d call him and let me know what he said.

  12

  Late that afternoon, I took some time off to join Desi at one of the weekly MUMs group stroller walks. I figured that even though it was time spent away from work, I’d be a better worker if I got some exercise and fresh air. Plus, I wanted to find out if she’d heard anything from Tomàs about the mens’ deaths.

  When I arrived at Lighthouse Park with Ella, Desi was stretching lightly, using Lina’s stroller for balance. Behind her, other moms in our walking group milled around. It was so cold that I could see my breath puffing out in front of me like little clouds as I pushed my stroller toward her. Even this late in the day, the grass still had frost on it, or maybe it was some snow leftover from the flakes that had fallen briefly that morning. Whatever the case, it was freezing cold and I was having a hard time convincing myself to stay at the park instead of going somewhere for a hot cup of coffee.

  Before I could open my mouth to speak, she said, “No, Tomàs hasn’t called me back yet about the investigation. I don’t even know if he will.” She handed me a cup of coffee from her café. “Here.”

  I reached for it and wrapped my hands around the cup for warmth. “How did you know?”

  She sighed. “You always want coffee. I figured bringing you hot coffee on a cold afternoon was a safe bet.”

  I smiled at her. “Well, thanks.” I sipped the coffee until the contents were low enough in the cup that they wouldn’t slosh through the opening when I went over bumps.

  “So where are we going today?” I looked around. The ranks had swelled and there were now about a dozen moms with their babies waiting in the park.

  “Not sure. Lisa hasn’t said yet.” Desi pointed to our illustrious leader, who was dressed in tight running pants and a long sleeved workout shirt, perfectly matched of course.

  “I love this time of year.” I clutched the warm coffee cup between my hands and gazed at the Christmas tree in Lighthouse Park. Every year, the town decorated the tall tree with colorful lights and a bright star at the top. Although it wasn’t dark yet, the tree was lit and sparkled against the white backdrop of the lighthouse.

  Lisa signaled to us that it was time to go and moved her stroller onto the sidewalk. We all trotted along behind her. About twenty minutes into the walk, Desi’s phone rang.

  She pulled it out. “It’s Tomàs,” she said with surprise. “I really didn’t think I’d hear anything from him until he got home from work tonight.”

  “Answer it!” I hissed. I glanced at Lisa. She wouldn’t be happy to see one of us on the phone, but if Tomàs had information about the suspicious deaths, I wanted to know ASAP.

  She glanced at Lisa too, then surreptitiously lifted the phone to her ear while still keeping pace with the rest of the group. “Uh huh … uh huh.”

  I stopped, causing her to run into me and set off a chain reaction of collisions with the other moms and strollers behind us. Lisa turned to glare at me.

  “Sorry!” I called out.

  She eyed me, then turned around and continued on.

  By this time, Desi had finished her phone conversation.

  “So?”

  “So, all of the men besides Pearson were terminally ill. The police aren’t investigating because there’s nothing suspicious about it.”

  “But Delilah said they were in good health.”

  “Maybe they were, but when you’re terminally ill, you can go downhill fast.” Desi changed her grip on the stroller as Lisa took us up one of the streets that climbed away from the ferry dock.

  “I guess. But how do you explain them talking about getting rich from something and then the rapid decline in their mental faculties?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Tomàs said he’d make sure someone dug deeper into it, but right now, they don’t think it had anything to do with Mila’s death.”

  “Which leaves them suspecting Will.”

  “Yep.” She stared down at Lina and idly rearranged the blanket she’d wrapped around her daughter.

  “But what if there is something weird about their deaths?”

  “Are you still on this?” She turned around to briefly lock eyes with me. “You really believe Delilah, don’t you?”

  “I do. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person that would just come up with random conspiracy theories.” Desi brushed a wisp of hair back from her face.

  “Ok, well, if she’s right, then why did Pearson’s death break the pattern? And why hasn’t his family said anything about him having money conned out of him? I’m pretty sure they’d have raised a fuss if it were true.”

  “I don’t have an answer for that.” We’d returned to the park and Lisa was having us do some cooldown stretching. Although it hadn’t seemed like much of a workout while we were pushing the strollers, I could feel it now in my warm muscles and tired legs.

  “Do you think Tomàs is really going to make sure they investigate further? I promised Delilah that I’d make sure the police took her claims seriously.” I pulled my foot up toward my back to stretch my quadriceps.

  Desi sighed. “I’ll do my best to make him understand, but I can’t make any guarantees.”

  “Thanks, Desi.”

  “Honestly, Jill?” she said. “I think we need to find out what happened to those men. That’s got to be the whole key to this thing. I can’t keep the news about Will being a suspect from my mom much longer, so we’ve got to help move things along.”

  “I agree. I’ll ask around tomorrow at Ericksville Heights when I go talk to the administrator there about the party. Maybe someone else knows something.”

  “Let me know if you find anything out. See you.” She turned her stroller around and headed in the direction of her house.

  I continued home, my calves burning as I hiked up the hill to our house. Some of the neighbors had decorated their houses, but the house below us that had belonged to Samuel Westen was conspicuously dark. I wondered what Anna Westen planned to do with her father’s house and if we’d have a new next door neighbor anytime soon. It was so cold that my chest hurt with every breath of frigid air, but it was all worth it when I walked into our warm house and Ella and I flopped down on the couch to rest.

  “Tough day, honey?” Adam said from the kitchen where he was making dinner.

  “Something like that.” I didn’t want to tell him that I was worn out from a stroller walk, although I was also mentally exhausted by my conversation with Delilah earlier in the day. I’d made a promise to her, and if the police weren’t going to take it seriously, I’d have to do some investigating on my own until I had enough evidence to get them interested.

  13

  I didn’t have any client appointments the next morning, so I decided to visit the retirement home to see if the administrator, Alfred Dolan, was in.

  “Hi.” I flashed a smile at the receptionist, Dana, who knew me by now.

  “Hello.”

  “Is Alfred Dolan in today?”

  She nodded. “He is, but he’s busy at the moment.” She leaned in and whispered, “There’s a police detective and Mr. Pearson’s son in there with him.”

  “Ok, no problem. I’ll wait for him. Can you let me know when he’s free?”

  “Sure.” She motioned to a seat in the hallway near the administrative staff’s offices. “You can have a seat there if you’d
like.”

  “Thanks.” I sat down in the chair nearest to the closed door on the end that bore a plaque with Alfred’s name on it.

  The doors themselves must have been paper thin, because I could hear almost everything they were saying inside. The detective appeared to be interviewing Chas Pearson about his father’s finances, which he seemed to object to because his voice rose higher in volume as the meeting wore on. I needed to remember to tell Delilah that the police must be taking her theories into consideration if they were talking to Chas.

  “No. How many times do I have to tell you that my father did not fall victim to some scam. He died naturally, in his sleep. I don’t understand why you insist on putting us through this.”

  The detective responded, “There have been some inconsistencies brought to light and we need to make sure that no stone is left unturned in our investigation.”

  “Well,” Chas huffed, “you’re going to be hearing from my lawyers.”

  The door opened and I flattened myself against the back of my chair and pretended to be engrossed in something on my phone.

  Chas stormed out, followed by the police detective, who wore his badge on a chain around his neck.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” the detective said to a man who I presumed was Alfred Dolan.

  “Of course. I was happy to help.” Alfred shuddered. “I hate the thought that something untoward was happening here at the retirement home. I’m so glad that we got this matter cleared up.”

  The policeman nodded. “We are too. For now, this matter is closed, but if you think of anything we should know, here’s my business card.” He handed Alfred a small white card.

  Alfred took it and put the card in his pants pocket, then stood there watching as the policeman walked away. I wasn’t entirely sure if he’d seen me sitting right there in front of him or not because he hadn’t yet greeted me.

  I put my phone back in my purse and stood. “Mr. Dolan?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment, then seemed to collect himself and focused his attention on me. “Yes, I’m Alfred Dolan. How may I help you?”

  I held out my hand. “I’m Jill Andrews. Delilah talked to you about having me coordinate the Christmas party? I was hoping you might have time to chat with me for a bit about the event.”

  He looked confused for a second. “Oh, right. You were here a few days ago, weren’t you? When the preschool class was here.”

  “I was.”

  “I thought I recognized you.” He glanced at his watch. “I was just about to head out to grab a bite to eat. Do you think we could meet in an hour?”

  “Uh, sure.” I’d have to stick around the retirement home because there wouldn’t be enough time to get anything done back at the Boathouse, but I didn’t mind having the extra time to visit Delilah. “I can meet you here in an hour.”

  “Great.” He ran his fingers through his hair and gave a deep sigh. He must have caught the odd look I gave him, because he said, “Sorry. It’s already been a long day.”

  “I saw the detective and Chas Pearson were here. Chas didn’t seem too happy.”

  “No. He wasn’t. And I don’t blame him. His father was a sick, elderly man. It wasn’t terribly surprising when he passed. But for some reason the police think there was something suspicious about it.” He shook his head. “Our recreation director died recently and everyone’s pretty shaken up about it, I think.”

  I gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry for your loss. I was here when they found her body.”

  “You were?” He examined me more closely. “Oh, that was the day the preschool visited, wasn’t it?” He started walking toward the lobby. “Anyway, I need to step out. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Before he was able to leave the building, one of the residents, a woman with fluffy white hair and red lipstick, stopped him. I paused, stuck behind him and her.

  “Alfred,” she said, “can I come and talk to you later today? I need to move some money from my retirement investment funds into my checking account and I can’t seem to figure out the online transfer form.” She sighed and her eyes were troubled. “I don’t know why they make it so difficult.”

  He put his hand on her upper arm reassuringly. “I’ll put it on my schedule for this afternoon. Don’t worry, Mabel—we’ll figure it out.”

  “Thanks, Alfred.” A look of relief came over her and she looked at him adoringly. “You’re always so helpful.”

  Alfred may have been a bit scattered, but at least the residents seemed to like him. I made my way into the Great Room, thinking about Alfred and Chas. I didn’t see Delilah in there, but I did see someone familiar—Anna Westen. She was talking to one of the residents and explaining something on a clipboard, so I walked near her and gave her a small wave, but didn’t say anything. She smiled back at me and held up a finger.

  I settled into a chair nearby and waited for her. I hadn’t seen her often since her father was murdered last spring, and I made a mental note to catch up with her over coffee sometime soon.

  “Jill.” She came up and hugged me. “This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?” She looked around. “Are you visiting someone?”

  I laughed. “Not today. The retirement home lost their recreation director recently and they needed someone to complete the plans for their annual Christmas party.”

  Her lips turned down. “I heard about Mila’s death. She was always so nice and polite when I’d come here to visit clients.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard about her too. It’s scary that they don’t know who killed her.” I glanced involuntarily at the backyard.

  “No kidding. When I’ve visited clients here over the last few days to have them sign their estate planning documents, they’re all a little concerned by her murder. And rightfully so.”

  I sat back in my chair and regarded her. Anna worked for an estate planning attorney as a paralegal. It was still bothering me that Chas Pearson was denying any financial problems with his father’s affairs. Was he lying or telling the truth?

  “Can I ask you something I’d been wondering about?” I asked.

  “Sure, what’s on your mind?” Anna gazed at me with curiosity.

  “If one of the residents here was a victim of a con prior to their death, why would their family deny that it happened?”

  “Well, there are a couple of reasons. For one, if it wasn’t much money, the family might not want to embarrass their loved one by admitting they were conned. Secondly, I would think that if the police got word of such a thing happening, they’d want to launch an investigation. That could delay disbursement of any inheritance while the police investigate.” She scrutinized me. “Why, did that happen here?”

  I stared down at the table in front of me and then met her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “If it did, you need to tell someone. Elder abuse is a big problem in retirement homes because the residents are often very vulnerable.” She set the papers she was carrying on the table and sat down across from me. “If it happened here, you should tell the retirement home administrator or the police.”

  I didn’t want to push the subject because I wasn’t sure what had happened and was only working off of theories. “The police have been notified that it’s a possibility, but I was just curious what would happen.”

  She checked her watch and stood, gathering up her papers again. “I’m not sure what would happen to the family member perpetrating the cover-up, but I don’t know how someone could do that to an elderly relative. I disliked my father and I still wouldn’t have done anything to keep the police from investigating any wrongdoings against him.”

  “I agree.” My mind was jumbled with thoughts of evil relatives.

  A thought occurred to me. Anna said she had been to Ericksville Heights many times. What if one of the deceased men was a client of hers? There may not have been any relatives to ask about their finances, but Anna would have their bank account information if her law firm was tasked w
ith administering the estate.

  “Anna?” I asked.

  She looked up sharply. “Did you think of something else?”

  I pressed my lips together, then spoke. “I know you’re not able to divulge if one of the deceased men, Albert Wendil or Lenny Landers, were clients of yours, but if they were, perhaps you could check their bank records to see if there are any suspicious transactions.”

  She eyed me and said carefully, “If one of them was a client, it’s possible that I could do that. I’ll call you later to talk about it, ok?”

  “Thank you. That would be great.” I smiled at her. “Hey, I haven’t seen you around your father’s house in a while. Do you have plans to sell it?”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure yet what to do about it. I hate the idea of selling the house since it belonged to my mother’s family, but it’s such a big expense to maintain. I may rent it out or something—maybe have it as a vacation rental.”

  I nodded. She’d mentioned the possibility to me not long after her father’s death. I wasn’t keen on having the house below ours as a vacation rental because there would probably be loud parties and increased traffic on our hill, but I understood what Anna meant. An old house like Westen’s couldn’t be cheap to keep up. Besides, maybe having it as a vacation rental wouldn’t be as bad as I’d thought. And it would definitely be better than having the property subdivided for a dozen more houses, as her father had planned.

  We chatted about the house for a while, then said our goodbyes and Anna left to return to work. I walked over to the lobby and Alfred’s office to see if he’d come back yet. An hour had passed and his door was open, so I knocked on it.

  14

  Alfred’s head bobbed up, as if he were startled. “Oh. I’d forgotten. Come in.” He beckoned for me to come and sit in front of his desk.

  How could someone forget an appointment in the space of an hour? I entered the room and took the seat opposite him. Mila’s name was on the door as well and I assumed that the organized desk in the corner was hers. File cabinets lined one wall and an abstract art painting had been hung on the wall next to it.