Murder Rings a Bell

by Thea Cambert

“Or our strawberry lemonade,” suggested Taya.

  “We also have our blueberry slushy on the menu tonight,” said Patrick.

  “Oh! The one with the tiny flag sticking out of it?” asked Owen.

  “The very same,” said Patrick with a nod.

  “I’ll have that,” said Owen.

  “Make that two,” said Franny.

  “I’ll have the lemonade,” said Alice.

  “Rebel,” said Owen.

  “Two blueberry slushies and one strawberry lemonade, coming up,” said Tara. “And don’t worry, Alice, I’ll put a tiny flag in yours, too.”

  “So, if I know you three, I’d bet you’re not just here for drinks,” said Patrick, resting an elbow on the bar.

  “You’d win that bet,” said Owen, popping a chip into his mouth.

  “We’re sort of casually wondering what happened to Alexandra Darlington, the doctor who died Wednesday night,” said Alice.

  “Right after she left here,” added Franny.

  “I was shocked when I saw her picture in the Post,” said Patrick, shaking his head. “Sad business.”

  “What was your impression of her?” Alice asked.

  “Pretty. Smart. Drunk.”

  “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary that night?”

  “She came in around nine-thirty with a group of doctors from the conference. They got more obnoxious as the night went on. Most of them had left within an hour or so. It was down to Alexandra and one other guy. I got busy up on the roof and lost track of them. When I came back down, the guy was gone, and I saw Alexandra talking to Norman McKenzie. Then, around midnight, they left together.”

  “Didn’t that strike you as odd?” Alice asked, as Taya set two bright blue slushies and one icy lemonade down in front of them.

  “Absolutely,” said Patrick. “That’s why I noticed it. Norman leaving with someone other than Pearl Ann is most definitely odd.” He saw the front door opening again and stood. “You should ask Norman about it. He’s up in the garden with Pearl Ann.”

  “They never miss a Friday night, you know,” said Taya. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that Norman couldn’t be involved in that woman’s death. He’s a good guy.”

  “I don’t think so, either,” said Alice.

  “How well do we really know Norman?” Owen whispered after Taya had moved on down the bar to attend to other customers. “I mean, what do we know about him other than the fact that he dates Pearl Ann?”

  “Nothing, really,” Franny admitted. “We know he’s the best handyman in Blue Valley.”

  “He is?” asked Owen.

  “Yep. Haven’t you heard his ads on the radio?” said Alice.

  “Norman is Odd Job Bob?” Owen’s eyes widened.

  “Yep,” said Alice.

  “I didn’t realize,” said Owen. “Why call himself Bob?”

  “The original Odd Job Bob was Bob Davis,” Alice explained. “When he retired, Norman became the new Bob.”

  “We should go up there and question him,” said Owen. “But, with Pearl Ann sitting right there, he’s not likely to open up about his late-night escapade with another woman.”

  “Owen! I’m sure it wasn’t an escapade!” said Franny. She took a large gulp of her slushie. “Ow! Brain freeze!”

  “Me, too!” said Owen, a pained expression on his face. “But, even though it’s excruciating, I can’t stop drinking this thing.” He took another swig, then grabbed his forehead. “The agony!”

  “Look. There’s probably some logical explanation for the whole incident with Norman and Alexandra. We just need to find out what it is.”

  “I know!” said Owen. “Franny and I will get Pearl Ann away from the table. You question Norman.”

  “Okay,” said Alice, as they all rose and picked up their drinks. “How are you going to get Pearl Ann to leave the table?”

  Owen and Franny looked at each other.

  “I’ve got it!” said Owen. “Leave it to me. Franny, drink up.”

  Franny nodded and they both drank more slushie, alternating between unabated enjoyment and the pain of the brain freezes. Then Owen set what was left of their drinks on the bar. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Hey, I’m not done with that yet!” said Franny.

  “Yes, you are,” said Owen. “To the roof!”

  When they emerged into the Smiling Hound’s rooftop garden—a charming space, strung with lights and scattered with small tables—they spotted Norman and Pearl Ann, sitting near the railing. Pearl Ann was enjoying a buttered ear of corn, and Norman was tucking into a multi-layered sandwich.

  “Pearl Ann, we need your help!” said Owen, rushing up to the table.

  “Oh, my gosh, what’s happened to you?” said Pearl Ann with a little shriek. “Your lips are blue!”

  “That’s not the half of it!” said Owen. “Look at our teeth!”

  He bared his blueberry-stained teeth, and Franny, catching on, followed suit.

  “It’s a spa emergency!” said Owen. “Please, tell me you have something for this!”

  “What happened?”

  “We’ll tell you on the way to Blue Beauty,” said Owen, grabbing Pearl Ann by the arm. “Norman, don’t be alarmed,” he said to Norman, who’d stood up, sandwich in hand. “We’ll just borrow Pearl Ann for a few minutes. You chat with Alice here. Be right back!”

  With that, Franny and Owen pulled Pearl Ann, who was still holding her corn, to the stairs and disappeared.

  Alice turned back to Norman. “Don’t worry. They’ll be right back,” she said, taking a seat. “I’ll just keep Pearl Ann’s chair warm.” She laughed awkwardly, but Norman didn’t seem to suspect anything was up.

  “So, Norman,” Alice said after clearing her throat several times and taking multiple sips of lemonade. “Can I ask you . . . I mean . . . Well, I’ll just come right out with it.”

  “Go ahead,” said Norman through a mouthful of sandwich.

  “You were seen leaving here with the woman who died out at the lake on Wednesday night.”

  Norman coughed and a few breadcrumbs sputtered out of his mouth. “Oh. Sorry,” he said, dusting off the table.

  Alice could swear she saw a shadow of guilt cross Norman’s face as he looked down over Main Street.

  “That’s okay,” said Alice, hoping she was wrong.

  “I read about that in the paper—that the woman died,” said Norman. “Couldn’t believe it. I mean, I didn’t know her or anything. But it’s strange, to see someone alive and well one night, and then hear they died.”

  “Very strange,” Alice agreed. “Did you notice anything in particular about the woman?”

  “Mainly that she was drunk,” said Norman. “She was stumbling around all over the place, talking nonsense.”

  “Had you noticed her earlier in the evening? Like, who she was with?”

  “She was with one of those doctors that’s in town,” said Norman. “Some guy. About her age. Dark hair. Short.”

  “Him, or his hair?”

  “Him. Short and stocky.”

  “How did you know he was one of the doctors from the convention?”

  “He had one of those nametag necklace things on.”

  “And then he left?”

  “He stormed out. They’d been arguing. I wasn’t trying to listen in, you understand. They were sitting about six feet away, talking pretty loudly. Anyway, I thought the guy was nuts. Was glad when he decided to leave. When the lady got up to go, she looked pretty woozy. I was leaving myself, so I offered to see her back to her hotel. But, then—well, I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “She—” He stopped speaking abruptly and looked around. “This doesn’t get back to Pearl Ann, you understand?”

  “Of course,” said Alice.

  “She—” Norman stopped talking again, and the worried look on his face melted into a smile as he looked over Alice’s shoulder toward the door.

  Alice followed Norman�
�s gaze and saw that Pearl Ann had returned with Owen and Franny, and was walking toward their table. Norman gave Alice a look and a very slight shake of his head that told her their discussion was over for the time being.

  “You’re a life saver, Pearl Ann,” Owen was saying as Alice stood and Pearl Ann took her seat. “That was so embarrassing!”

  “No problem,” said Pearl Ann with a smile. “Now, don’t forget to come in for your facials next week, you two. We’ll get your pores shrunk down to nothing!”

  “Will do,” said Owen.

  “Can’t wait,” said Franny.

  “Well, we’d better be going now,” said Alice, turning to go. “Early morning tomorrow.”

  Everyone nodded and said goodbye.

  “Oh,” said Alice, turning back. “I’m thinking of stocking some homemade summer jams at the shop, and I’m taking a sort of informal survey. What are your favorite flavors of jam?”

  “Without a doubt, mine’s strawberry,” said Pearl Ann. “I put it on everything!”

  “Yum,” said Alice. “And you, Norman?”

  “Oh, that’s an easy one,” said Norman, picking his sandwich back up. “Peach. Most definitely peach.”

  Chapter 13

  “Get anything out of Norman?” asked Owen as they made their way downstairs.

  “He was just about to tell me something juicy when you got back,” said Alice. “How’d it go with Pearl Ann?”

  “Oh, it was so much fun,” said Franny. “She had us do this honey-sugar lip scrub. Got the blue right off.”

  “And your teeth?”

  “She had these little whitening sticks,” said Owen digging into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a tube of lip balm. “You can take them with you to restaurants and things, for when you drink red wine. They get the stains right off.”

  “We got one for you, too, Alice,” said Franny, unzipping a little pocket on her bag and handing Alice her own stain stick.

  “Neat!” said Alice. “I had no idea such a thing even existed.”

  “I know, right?” agreed Owen. “By the way, you’re going with us for facials next week. Your pores aren’t in any better shape than mine.”

  “Gee, thanks, Owen.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Do you think Norman had anything to do with Alexandra’s death?” asked Franny. “I mean, he did say peach jam is his favorite.”

  “That was pretty shifty, by the way—how you slipped that question in,” said Owen, giving Alice a quick high-five.

  “Thanks.”

  By that time, they were nearing the pub’s exit.

  “It sounds like Norman was just in the wrong place at the right time,” said Alice. “I think he was legitimately worried that Alexandra was in danger because of the guy she’d been arguing with. Norman said the argument got pretty heated, and the guy left in a huff.”

  “Headed out?” Patrick held open the door as they approached.

  “Yep,” said Alice, but then she paused. “Hey, Patrick. Did you get a good look at the guy Alexandra was with last night? I mean, after the other doctors had all gone?”

  “Sure, he just came in. He’s right over there,” said Patrick, raising his chin toward the bar. “Third from the left.”

  “Looks like our work here isn’t done yet,” said Owen, pivoting to walk back toward the bar.

  “Is there a doctor in the house?” Owen snickered as he sat down at the bar at the end of a row of six men and women who were all wearing medical conference lanyards. “I jest,” he said, holding up a hand.

  Alice and Franny took seats next to Owen, and they ordered another round of slushies and lemonade from Taya.

  “How did you know we’re doctors?” one of the women asked.

  “Those cute little nametags you’re all wearing,” said Owen.

  “Oh, yeah,” one of the men said, looking down at his lanyard. “We keep them on because a lot of businesses in town are offering discounts to conference attendees. All we have to do is show them these.”

  “Just our little way of showing we’re glad to have you here in Blue Valley,” said Taya, setting drinks down in front of Alice, Owen, and Franny.

  “I’d like to offer you all a cup of free coffee at Joe’s,” said Franny.

  “We might need it tomorrow morning,” said one of the doctors, raising a glass.

  “Hey, I’m going to run check on our table,” the stocky, dark haired, third-from-the-left doctor said, getting up. He left the bar area and went into the pub’s entryway, where Patrick and the restaurant hostess stood chatting.

  Alice gave Owen and Franny a little nod, and said, “Be right back.” She slipped off her stool, carrying her drink, and went in the direction of the entryway as well. As soon as she saw the doctor returning, she rushed forward, running into him and sloshing her drink on both of them.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Alice said, reaching out to blot the man’s shirt with her cocktail napkin. “I’m such a klutz!”

  The man, at first upset, softened considerably after he’d taken a better look at Alice. He laughed and said, “No problem. I was kind of hot anyway. Now I’m nice and . . . cool.”

  “And sticky,” said Alice.

  “Can I buy you a new drink?” he asked, looking at her half-empty glass.

  “I’d better not,” she said. “But, I can buy you one, to make up for your shirt.”

  “How about if you just join me for a drink instead?”

  “Sure.” Alice quickly spotted a small empty table in the bar area, tucked away into a corner. “How about over there?”

  He looked with approval at the table and stepped aside so Alice could lead the way.

  “I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Sander.”

  “Alice Maguire. I own The Paper Owl, just across the street.”

  “The bookshop? I’ll have to stop in there before I leave town.”

  “I hope you do.” Alice gave him her biggest smile—the one she reserved for occasions when she needed to make a customer she didn’t know feel comfortable. She thought quickly about how to broach the topic of Alexandra. “So, how’s the medical conference going so far?”

  “Really well,” Steve answered. “If you like talks about the latest pharmaceuticals, procedures, and insurance plans.”

  “Sounds . . . very interesting.”

  “Right.” He laughed.

  “Are you a surgeon, or—”

  “I’m a general practitioner. Over in Bell Cove.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Where that is?” Steve laughed. “That’s because no one’s ever heard of it. It makes Blue Valley look like a bustling metropolis.” He waved at Taya, who came over and took his order.

  Alice cleared her throat. “I was, um, sorry to hear about the doctor who died out at the lake,” she said, watching Steve’s eyes. “Was she a friend of yours?”

  “Not really. I’ve met her before, you know, at doctors’ things like this. But it’s been years. I was shocked to see her at the conference.”

  “Oh, so you didn’t know her well,” said Alice, nodding and trying to formulate her next questions as artfully as possible. “Did you hear how she died?”

  “Drowned, I assume,” Steve answered. “She was pretty drunk that night. Alcohol and lakes don’t mix well.”

  “I know it’s, well, in poor taste to speak ill of the dead . . .” She looked at Steve, whose eyes widened in interest. “But, I heard she wasn’t all that easy to get along with.”

  Steve sat back in his chair and took a swig of the beer Taya had set on the table. “You know what, Alice? That, I can believe.”

  Alice looked at him expectantly, encouraging him to go on.

  “I had a pretty bad argument with her just the other night,” Steve said.

  “Really?” Alice’s heart pounded. “What about?”

  “Oh, medical stuff. Nothing, really. I felt bad when I heard she had died, because that was the last conversation I’d had with her.�
�

  “And, maybe even the last conversation she ever had,” Alice added.

  “No, I bet she found someone else to argue with after I left. In my experience, she was a very disagreeable woman.”

  Steve took another drink of beer.

  “Hey, Steve, table’s ready,” one of the other doctors from their group said, walking up.

  Steve looked regretfully at Alice. “Join us for a late dinner, Alice?”

  “I’d better not,” said Alice, getting up. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”

  “Well, it was nice to meet you,” Steve said, lowering his voice and standing a little too close for Alice’s comfort. “I’ll come check out the bookstore sometime.”

  After the group of doctors had disappeared into the dining room, Owen and Franny hurried over to join Alice, and they finally left the pub.

  “Let’s walk a bit before we go home, okay?” Alice said, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

  “Good idea,” said Franny. “It’s so nice out.”

  They headed further down Main Street, glancing into cheerfully lit shop windows and enjoying the blissful quiet after being in the noisy pub.

  “What’d the good doctor have to say?” asked Franny.

  “I bet he spilled his guts after you turned your womanly wilds lose,” said Owen.

  “My what?” Alice scoffed. “I assure you, no womanly wilds were set loose this night.”

  “Please. That man was flirting with you like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “He was,” Franny agreed.

  “His name is Steve Sander. He’s a small-town doctor. He was acquainted with Alexandra, but didn’t seem to know her all that well,” said Alice. “He said he was surprised to see Alexandra here, and admitted they’d had a pretty heated argument the other night.”

  “About?” Franny perked up.

  “A medical issue.”

  “Darn,” said Franny.

  “Borrring,” said Owen.

  “Meanwhile, Norman admitted he left the pub with Alexandra, but said he failed to walk her all the way back to the inn.”

  “Why?” asked Franny.

  “He didn’t get to that part,” said Alice.

  “And then there’s the peach jam issue,” Franny reminded them.

  “That’s right. Peach jam,” said Owen. “Could Norman be the creepy commentator on Alexandra’s blog?”