by Ami Diane
Ella tried not to be disappointed. She hadn’t expected it to be easy to pry information from the doctor, but she’d hoped for something.
Shooting Will a pointed look, she tipped her head towards Pauline, hoping he could get further. The coroner seemed soft on him. If anyone could pry answers from her, it’d be him.
Will pressed a smile across his face, his white teeth on display. “Thanks for being so professional about it. I’m glad to know Kay’s in such good hands.” He reached over and patted Pauline’s hand. “It’s just—” his voice broke “—Kay meant something to me. I don’t like not knowing what happened to her. I watched her die, Pauline. And it’s something that’ll haunt me the rest of my life.”
Ella felt a pain in her chest. The memory haunted her too. She could only imagine how hard it was for him.
Teetering on her chair, Pauline stared at him, her eyes shifting in and out of focus. Finally, she patted him on the cheek. “I like you, you know that, Will? So cute. Such a shame it didn’t work out between the two of you.”
She tried to stuff the handkerchief back into her jacket, missed several pockets, but managed to stuff it into her sleeve.
“Thing is, we’re having a hard time identifying the poison. It’s not showing up in the blood work. ‘Course, it’s probably because we lack the equipment. Keystone is a far cry from where I did my residency, let me tell you.”
“Do you know how she was poisoned?” Ella asked.
Pauline narrowed her eyes at Ella as if she’d forgotten she was there. “How would I know? Look, I’m just a general pract-pract… I’m just a doctor. Not a medical examiner.”
“Did you look at the stomach contents?”
“Oh, that. ‘Course I did.”
Ella looked at Will for help.
“What did you find?” he asked.
Pauline’s expression softened. “Some partially digested hamburger and fries. Milk protein which meant she probably drank a shake three to four hours before her meal. Did find traces of something I couldn’t identify, though.”
“Really? What was it?” Ella said before she could stop herself. “Right, silly question. You just said you couldn’t identify it. Was this unknown substance or whatever in the food itself?”
Pauline shook her head. “Can’t be certain without testing the source of the meal she ate, and that’s long gone. It was in higher concentrations in the liquid contents, but only a trace of it in the partially digested food.”
“Meaning it most likely didn’t come from the fries or burger.” Ella bit her cheek to stop herself from saying more.
“Not that I can tell. Look, I don’t know what they have where you’re from, but for toxicology, I only have half the chromatography equipment I need and a homemade centrifuge thanks to Will here. That’s it. Don’t even have a blood gas analyzer. Everything has to be done the old-fashioned way.”
Will’s brows puckered. “So, really, we don’t know what killed her?”
“That’s what I said. We know what didn’t. It’s not rat poison, not strychnine, not any cleaning substances or pesticides. I’ve ruled them all out.”
Her words had begun slurring, and Ella feared she was only good for a couple more questions. Beside her, Will stared at his empty plate, emotion swirling behind his eyes. It was Ella’s turn at bat again.
“What about that rash on her arms? Could it have something to do with the poison?”
“The rash? You mean her poison oak rash?”
“So, it really was caused by poison oak?” Ella tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Yep.” Pauline blinked slowly over glossy eyes. “I should probably head home.”
She managed to get one arm through a jacket sleeve. When she tried scoot her chair back, it caught on a floorboard.
In slow motion, the coroner tipped back and went down like a bowling pin. Limbs and jacket splayed out over the ground. A marble rolled across the floor from one pocket, a few strawberries from another.
Nearby, a voice yelled, “Timber!”
“There goes my snack for the walk home,” Pauline mumbled, struggling to a sitting position.
Will and Ella dropped on either side of the doctor to help her up. They were just gathering her elbows when a blur of fur and pink tracksuit hit Pauline like a cannonball square in the chest.
Chaos broke out. Pauline screamed and flailed, jumping to her feet. She clawed at Chester.
Wink appeared, shouting at the squirrel who was now headfirst inside the pocket of strawberries, bushy tail waving through the air.
Pauline’s frantic wails kicked up a notch when she realized the rodent was attached to her. She swatted and turned a circle.
“Get this thing off me!”
She twirled, causing Chester’s tail to flare out around her like a fluffy tutu. Wink grabbed for the rodent, but her hand clutched air after each pass.
“Grab a cookie,” Wink yelled at Ella and Will.
Without waiting for an explanation, Ella sprinted for the dessert table, searching for a cookie. Wink hadn’t said what kind to grab. Assuming that it was for Chester and not Wink having a sudden sugar craving, Ella grabbed a peanut butter cookie and raced back to the fray.
A small crowd had gathered around the dancing doctor and varmint, probably more for the spectacle than to actually help. A little boy clapped and pointed at the “woman with the tail.”
Ella shoved the cookie at Wink. The older woman held it above her head and hollered, “Chester, cookie!”
He must’ve stopped squirming because Pauline’s jig became less frantic and more of a waltz. Two gray ears emerged followed by beady eyes and a twitching nose.
The crowd held a collective breath.
Wink dangled the cookie in the air, calling the squirrel’s name. Chester’s nose worked double-time. A moment later, he scrambled out and flew through the air at the treat.
Grandma Wink snatched him up and cradled him. An enthusiastic applause broke out—with more gusto than the welcome Ella had received—and the diner owner gave a tired smile before disappearing through the throng of people.
Beside Ella, Pauline swayed, her eyes wide in shock. Ella feared a light change in air pressure would knock the doctor over.
She and Will steadied the coroner and insisted on walking her home, especially after Ella found out Pauline lived across the lake in one of the wooden cottages that looked a gingerbread house.
Outside, the air was fresh, the temperature dropping rapidly, going from sauna to tolerable. The walk went smoothly, with Pauline trying to take a swim in the lake only twice.
Once at the cottage, they deposited her on her couch, covered her in a quilt, then made their way back to the walking trail around the lake.
The sun dipped behind the distant dunes, shooting rays across a blood-red sky. Ella always loved this time of day, when the world around her turned to gold and magic.
“Kind of a waste of cider,” Will said.
She glanced at him, noting the edges in his features had softened since the beginning of the meeting. He was back to his charming self. Whatever had been bothering him had vanished.
“Oh, I don’t know. We learned what didn’t kill Kay, and I learned how many glasses of alcohol it takes to get information from Pauline.” Unfortunately, it seemed the jewelweed was still in the running for the possible murder weapon. “So, as far as town hall meetings go, was that your standard fare?”
“More or less. Every once in a while, we’ll get one that’s like watching paint dry. Other times, they’ll end in death threats or fights.
“Once, we had a meeting that seemed to go well enough until the refreshment portion. Then, Mable Gray called Susanne Smith something colorful, and one thing led to another, and it turned into the largest food fight I’ve ever seen. It took weeks to clean all the whip cream and pie from the walls and ceiling.”
“What a waste of pie.”
“The mayor canceled the next two meetings until people
could agree to be more civil.” He chuckled to himself. “So, yes, tonight’s meeting was pretty standard and tame by comparison.”
Ella tried to picture such a food fight and found herself wishing for a repeat in the future. It seemed her new home would never be dull, and she would not lack for entertainment—which was good considering there wasn’t television or internet.
They walked in a comfortable silence. Ahead, water lapped at the docks. A few old boats bumped against the pylons, bobbing over the dancing jewels of sunset glistening on the lake. Maybe she could find someone that owned one and borrow it for a day full of fishing and reading.
“Are you going to the memorial tomorrow?” Will asked.
“Yeah, I am.” She didn’t bother asking if he was as she scratched an itch on her arm.
By the time they made it back to Main Street, the street lamps were on, chasing away growing shadows. When they passed the sheriff’s office, Ella noticed the lights were still on. Without the glare of the sun, she was able to see inside.
Six stood in his cell, arms threaded between the bars, staring out the window. Ella barely had time to process the sight and look away before he saw her.
They locked eyes.
His lips twisted into a sadistic grin. He leaned into the bars, his eyes wild like a predator.
Ella and Will were nearly past the window when the outlaw raised a tobacco-stained hand, made a gun shape with it, and pointed it at her.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and before she could react, he slipped out of sight, the image burned into her eyes.
“Ella, you okay?” Will asked.
She nodded, not trusting her voice. It doesn’t matter, she told herself, he can’t touch you now.
But as the inn came into sight, she was certain of two things: she’d have a hard time falling asleep tonight, and she was no longer confident Six hadn’t killed Kay.
CHAPTER 17
SINCE ELLA DIDN’T have any clothes appropriate for a memorial service, she thought she would visit the shop down the street and see if she couldn’t find something black and somber close to her size. It also needed to cost under twenty dollars since that was all the cash she had left on her. Her hopes weren’t high that she’d find anything, but at the very least, she’d get to see more of the town.
After downing two cups of coffee to fight her restless night, she marched down the sidewalk with determined steps. Already, the concrete was warming underfoot, promising to be another blistering day.
Instinctively, her eyes darted down the street towards the sheriff’s office three blocks away. It was just a blurry dot, but she shivered as if Jesse was there, staring at her.
A clanging sound drew her gaze, and she found that she’d stopped across from L Street. She could see the door for Lou’s auto shop open, the raucous noise coming from inside.
Ella’s hands curled into fists. She adjusted course and tore across the street, nearly getting hit by a horse-drawn wagon. She did a double-take at the strange transportation before churning her heels across the pavement.
When she reached Lou’s, the sound of an electric drill broke over the quiet morning. Ella homed in on the noise. Two legs stuck out under an old Buick. She grabbed the dodgy mechanic’s boots and yanked, rolling him out from under the vehicle.
“Hey—”
“Lou, bet you hoped you’d never see me again?”
He squinted up at her. “E-Emma?”
She bent low, swallowing the space between them. “Ella. E-L-L-A. You traded me a lemon.”
“Pardon?” The toothpick nestled in the corner of his mouth worked overtime, decoding the word.
“That piece of junk you traded me didn’t make it two blocks. And now I’m stuck here. Because of you.”
Until the words spilled out of her mouth, she hadn’t realized how much bitterness stewed inside of her towards the mechanic. Her fingernails dug into her palms so hard she was sure they’d puncture skin.
He held up his hands, his eyes darting around, clearly uncomfortable being on the ground with her towering over him. “That ain’t my fault, though. That car worked fine. Honest.”
“You’re going to give me my jeep back.”
“What? No—”
“Yes,” she hissed. “And you can have that clunker back. It’s still parked in front of the inn, baking in the sun and taking up space.”
“That ain’t a fair trade.”
Ella’s eyes widened, a fire burning in her. “What?!”
Lou scrambled out from under her and staggered to his feet. “I just mean—”
“Where’s my car?”
Fear crept into his eyes. Finally, he pointed a meaty finger at a cabinet against the wall. As she marched over to it, he said, “You coulda left at any time, you know. You were warned to leave the moment you got here, yeah?”
She didn’t respond as she ripped open the cabinet door. Dozens of keys dangled on hooks inside. Her eyes raked over brass and silver colors, searching for hers.
“It ain’t my fault you ignored advice and waited to leave.”
She didn’t want to hear anymore, didn’t want to admit he was partially right. She had dragged her feet acquiring different transportation.
Spotting her set of keys, she snatched them up and spun. “But if that hunk of metal you call a car hadn’t broken down, I would’ve been out of here.”
His shoulders sank in defeat. “Look, doll, I really am sorry.”
She knew it would take time for her anger towards him to fizzle out, would take time before she could look at him without wanting to deck him.
She dangled the key in his face, her eyebrows raised.
He jerked his head. “It’s out back.”
“Is it fixed?”
His right eye twitched. “Yeah, it’s fixed. Nearly good as new.”
“Good. I’ll leave the keys for the sedan on the seat.”
Without another word, she strode out of the shop and to the fenced-in lot behind. Once inside her jeep, she inhaled the deep, familiar scent and patted the steering wheel. It felt like a small piece of home had returned to her.
Her car purred to life. As she rolled out of the gravel lot, she caught Lou watching her from the shop. She resisted the urge to spin her tires and kick gravel at him, instead, doing the adult thing of muttering curses at him under her breath.
She glanced in her mirrors at the man. His face had fallen, and she almost felt sorry for being mean. Almost.
Ella slipped into the same church used for the town hall meeting the night before. She sat near the back, self-conscious about her attire. She’d been unable to find anything suitable and was forced to borrow one of Rose’s dresses. It was rather elegant for a memorial and far too nice compared to the usual garb Ella wore, making her feel like she was going to a cocktail party.
On the bright side, she’d managed to apply eyeliner with a light hand, but that hadn’t stopped Flo from inspecting her and calling her a “painted woman.” The comment was ironic coming from a woman whose face looked like an entire Clinique counter.
The sanctuary was packed with mourners. Up front, above a garden of floral arrangements, a large banner draped over the stage with Kayline’s name painted in black cursive lettering.
Today, Ella sat between Wink and Flo, separating the two women who’d bickered the entire walk over. What had started as an argument about Frank Sinatra somehow turned into a fashion critique over Wink’s outfit (a lime-green dress). Wink insisted that Kay would’ve liked it.
Beside Ella, Flo continued to grumble about the dress. “She looks like a salad.”
“Nonsense,” Wink said. “I look cold.”
It took Ella a moment to parse out her meaning. “Do you mean hot?”
“Poop,” Flo said a little too loudly. “You’re the color of newborn baby poop.”
Several heads turned. Grandma Wink’s cheeks reddened. “Don’t mind her. She drank a little too much ‘shine on the way over.” She made a drink
ing motion with her hand.
Ella gave Wink’s outfit another appraisal. “If poop comes out of any living creature that color, then you have a problem.”
“Why must you two always have the most irreverent discussions in church?” Rose asked in a low voice on the other side of Wink. She pointed a finger at Ella. “And don’t you go joining in. I don’t need three of you.”
“I can’t help how the good Lord made me.” Flo slipped her hand into her purse, retrieved a handkerchief, and proceeded to blow loudly, adding a honking noise partway through.
Ella grimaced as Flo slipped the snot rag back into her purse then did a double take when she caught the metal gleam of a flask.
Ella shook her head and scanned the crowd. The mayor sat in the front row, dabbing at his eyes. Opposite him and a few rows up from Ella, the back of Will’s wavy rich brown hair stood out. The professor sat on Will’s right and a woman whose face Ella couldn’t see sat on his left.
Ella leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the mystery woman. Before she could ask Wink who she was, the memorial service began, and Ella settled into her seat but kept glancing at the back of the woman’s honey blonde hair.
During the service, Grandma Wink, along with two other ladies, got up and sang one of Kay’s favorite songs, which turned out to be a Boyz II Men ballad that had no business being sung under a church roof. Steamy lyrics aside, their voices blended and harmonized, filling the hall with beautiful notes.
As Wink walked back to her seat, her bright green dress stood out like the sun, burning retinas and glowing with its own radiation. A couple of mourners shook their heads, and the rustle of whispers followed in her wake. Wink stuck her chin out as she took her seat, her back ramrod straight.
When the church’s pastor got up to speak about how important it was to treasure every moment, Ella took the opportunity to steal a glance at Jimmy. He gripped Rose’s hand, his eyes glued forward. Ella searched his features for a trace of emotion, something to indicate if he felt Kay’s loss deeper than a friend, but the man was as stoic as a statue.
She checked periodically as the service wore on, always using her hand to sweep back a curl and hide her wandering gaze. Finally, when Mayor Bradford lamented over the future robbed from him and that he’d never get to walk his June bug down the aisle or meet his grandchildren, Jimmy’s facade cracked. His jaw twitched, and he closed his eyes.