by Bell, Cindy
“Well, where were you last night Henry?” she asked as any good detective would.
“I was here!” Henry scoffed. “I had to go to the market and buy fresh vegetables since that buffoon,” he paused a moment and sighed. “Forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but he murdered all the vegetables in the garden! So I had to work late to get breakfast prepared for this morning.”
“Oh I see,” Aunt Ida nodded and glanced around the kitchen. His alibi would be easy enough to prove as there was a surveillance camera leading in and out of the kitchen. As long as he was seen walking into the kitchen before midnight and not walking out before midnight, then he was in the clear. She of course wouldn't be convinced until she saw the video for herself. But that wasn't what she was concerned about at the moment.
“Can you believe all of this?” Sarah asked as she walked into the kitchen from the other direction. “We're going to lose a lot of business over this,” she sighed and shook her head as the numbers swam through her mind. “And then I have to wonder, are we really safe here?” she asked in a more fearful voice.
“Bob brought this here,” Henry said sharply as he laid the knife down on the cutting board. “He owed people money and was associating with the wrong sort of people. We've never had any trouble here, before he came,” he scowled.
“Now Henry,” Aunt Ida said in a chastising tone. “The poor man is dead, I don't think being angry at him is going to make it any worse for him.”
Henry sighed and nodded as he swept the vegetables into a large metal bowl.
“Sarah, have you seen Vicky?” Aunt Ida asked as she stepped closer to her niece.
“I thought she was with you?” Sarah asked with surprise.
“Oh I'm sure she's just off investigating,” Ida shrugged as if it was nothing to be worried about, but she was worried. She hadn't been able to find Vicky for some time, and they had planned to meet back up.
“I wonder where she could be,” Sarah said as she walked towards the large kitchen window. “It's not like her to just disappear, especially with all of this going on.”
“I checked her apartment, but she wasn't there,” Aunt Ida explained, her voice beginning to show her concern. “I'm afraid she might have taken my advice to investigate this crime ourselves a little too seriously.”
“I'd say so,” Sarah frowned with exasperation. “Aunt Ida, you two should not be meddling in this. A horrible crime has been committed here, and we don't even have any idea who might have done it. The murderer could still be somewhere close by. This is a job for the police to do, not for the two of you to get in the middle of.” Sometimes she felt as if she was mothering her Aunt.
Ida hung her head. “I know,” she murmured and then glanced up at Sarah. “But with the wedding coming up, we just thought it would be best to figure all this out as fast as we could.”
Sarah was still staring out the window, which overlooked the staff quarters, when she saw Vicky stumbling out of one of the rooms.
“There she is!” Sarah called out, and then gasped in horror when she saw a trickle of blood trailing down her sister's forehead. “Oh no she's hurt!”
Aunt Ida and Sarah ran out of the kitchen. Sarah called back over her shoulder for Henry to call for some of the remaining police officers. Most had left as they had collected all the evidence they could, but Mitchell had insisted that a few officers remain to put the guests and staff at ease. As the two women ran to Vicky she was leaning against the front wall of the building to keep herself steady. Her vision was swimming and she was having a hard time standing upright. She had a few flecks of glass stuck to her cheek from collapsing on the floor. Her head hurt terribly, and she recalled being struck on the back of the head, but mostly she was confused. Had she really seen what she thought she saw?
“I need to see the sheriff,” she said, her voice slightly slurred as she was still recovering from the blow. Two officers came running up to them, their hands on their holstered weapons.
“Are you okay?” one asked as he looked at the blood on Vicky's forehead. It was just from a small cut, likely from glass.
“Someone attacked me,” Vicky breathed out, every word making her head hurt more. “He was hiding, and he attacked me, but he's gone now,” she pointed in the direction of Henry's room. The officers went quickly to search it.
“Let's get you inside,” Aunt Ida said nervously as she glanced around. It was still possible that the culprit was lingering nearby.
“What happened?” Sarah demanded as she eased her sister into the kitchen and sat her down at the table.
“The killer,” Vicky explained breathlessly. “He was here, he was in Henry's room!”
“What?” Henry asked as he hurried over to Vicky with a wet rag to staunch the bleeding from the cut on her forehead. He knocked the knife off of the counter. It clattered into the metal sink, making them all jump with surprise at the sharp sound. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, he was hiding in your closet,” Vicky said and winced at how much it hurt to talk. “I need to talk to the sheriff, I saw something important.”
“He's on his way,” Sarah assured her. Once the cut had been cleaned, Henry headed for the freezer and gathered some ice. He walked over with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel for the knot on the back of her head. Aunt Ida was looking at the wound on the back of Vicky's head closely.
“She's got quite a bump,” Aunt Ida declared with anger in her voice. “But it looks like she will be okay.”
“We'll let the paramedics decide that,” Sarah said firmly, she wasn't taking any chances.
“Paramedics, no,” Vicky shook her head groggily. “Really I'm fine.”
"You certainly are not fine," Mitchell corrected from the door of the kitchen. He walked towards Vicky with a deep frown. "What happened?" he asked in a whisper when he noticed the small cut on her forehead.
"It's just from glass," Vicky said swiftly. "Henry's room was broken into. So I went in to have a look…"
"Why?" Mitchell demanded, his eyes full of concern. "Why would you walk in instead of calling me?"
Vicky lowered her eyes as she realized now how stupid she was to go in.
"I just figured I might be able to find something," she said quietly. “I was worried that Henry was hurt.”
"Then what happened?" Mitchell asked her in a more gentle tone as he noted the fear that rose in her eyes.
"Yes, fill us in," the sheriff requested as he walked in behind Mitchell. "Please do tell us all why you felt the need to contaminate a crime scene instead of allowing the good officers of the law do their job?" his eyes were flashing as he glared at Vicky. "You're lucky you're able to talk to us at all young lady."
Vicky frowned at his strong tone. She wasn't a big fan of the sheriff as he always seemed to be angry about something, but in this case she couldn't really argue with him. She had been quite reckless.
"He was hiding in Henry's closet," she said softly, trying to prevent her head from throbbing with each word she spoke. The paramedics had arrived right behind the police and they were evaluating the bump on the back of Vicky's head.
"So you saw his face?" the sheriff asked hopefully.
"No," Vicky sighed with disappointment as she knew that would have been the most helpful. "I tried to look at him, but he hit me before I could see his face."
"Then how do you know it's a he?" the sheriff demanded. "You must have seen something,” he insisted. “Think about it.”
"I did," Vicky said firmly as she tried to gather her thoughts. "It struck me as very strange. I saw his arm, which was definitely a man's arm, and he had the same tattoo as Bob!"
"A tattoo?" the sheriff shook his head slightly. "You're probably just confused Vicky. You might have mixed two memories together. Bob is dead, and I highly doubt whoever killed him would just happen to have the exact same tattoo. I think you need some rest."
With that he turned and strode out of the kitchen. "I'm going to search the contaminated crime sce
ne," he called back over his shoulder.
One of the paramedics patted Vicky's hand gently. "This looks like it will be fine with some ice," she said with a compassionate smile. "But we can always take you in to check for a concussion."
"No thank you," Vicky said firmly. "I'm feeling much better, I think I just need some water and a chance to clear my head."
Aunt Ida hurried to get her a glass of water, while Sarah and Henry spoke quietly about what the killer might have been looking for in his room.
Once Mitchell was sure that the sheriff was gone, he turned back to Vicky. He lowered his voice and leaned in close to her.
"Listen, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I think you need to know, because I want you to realize what you're up against here," he said, his voice heavy with concern.
"What is it?" Vicky asked curiously as the pain began to subside beneath the ice she was holding against her head.
"We checked into Bob thoroughly and it looks like he was recently in jail for burglary," he frowned as he added, "with a deadly weapon."
Vicky's eyes widened at that revelation. "I had no idea," she said as she shook her head. "He said he had fallen on some hard times, and he just needed an income. I didn't realize that those hard times, were actually him doing hard time."
"Yes, it was a longer sentence but it got reduced. He had just got out of jail before he came here. Also we've questioned his brother, but he has an alibi for last night, so we don't think it could be him. We're back to square one on suspects, which means anyone could be the killer," he sighed as he looked deeply into Vicky's eyes. "Look, I know that maybe you didn't enjoy our date too much…"
"What?" Vicky asked with surprise at his words. "Why would you say that?"
"Well," he hesitated and glanced around to be sure that no one else was listening in on their conversation as it did not qualify as official police business, and the sheriff would not be pleased that the discussion was taking place. "You never called, so I just assumed," he explained quietly. "I know I'm not the most exciting person in the world."
"Mitchell," Vicky groaned as she started to shake her head and then stopped because of the bolt of pain the movement ignited. "I was waiting for you to call me," she said with a lopsided grin. She felt very silly for all the times she had checked her phone now. She wondered if Mitchell had been checking his phone just as often.
"Really?" Mitchell's eyes lit up for a moment, then he cleared his throat as he remembered exactly what he was there for. "Well, what I was trying to say was, I'm telling you all this, because, Bob was a very dangerous individual who was involved with other very dangerous individuals. I don't want to see you get hurt, more than you already have, understand?" he arched an eyebrow slightly. Vicky couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was. He was concerned about her, but he was still not being open about it, he was just giving her all of the facts.
"I understand," Vicky said softly. "But, you should understand that I have a very anxious bride who is going to be calling me every single hour on the hour until that crime scene tape comes down, because her wedding is scheduled for this weekend. So, even though I get that I am not a police officer, if there's some way I can help the investigation, I am more than happy to contribute."
Mitchell sat back in his chair and sighed as he studied her. He admired Vicky's strong personality and her determination. But he wondered if that would get her into some serious trouble.
"Just promise me, that if you come across something, and you're not sure if it's dangerous or not, or if it might be important to the investigation, that you call me first, okay?" he suggested.
"I will," Vicky assured him and reached out to lightly touch the back of his hand. "I'm sorry that we had a misunderstanding after our date. I really would like to see you again sometime."
Mitchell smiled as he closed his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'd like that too," he nodded.
"All right, Bob’s room was ransacked as well so we've got the forensics team going through both rooms right now," the sheriff announced as he walked back into the kitchen with an officer behind him. The officer walked Henry out of the kitchen to obtain a list of valuables that might be missing from his room. Vicky swiftly drew her hand away from Mitchell, knowing that if the sheriff spotted the gesture, he might be upset with his deputy sheriff. "It's going to take some time for the results to come back. Until then, stay out of the staff quarters, and if you see anything suspicious, do me a favor and call the people with badges and guns, hmm?" he eyed Vicky with a paternal glare. Vicky forced a smile to her lips and nodded slightly.
"I think I've learned my lesson," she lied, knowing that she was more determined than ever to find out who had attacked her and killed Bob. After all how could she be expected to feel safe until whoever had hurt her was behind bars? When Henry returned to the kitchen, looking stunned by how his room had been destroyed, she was reminded of just how real this situation was.
"Henry, you can stay in the inn," Vicky suggested in a kind tone.
"Sure there are plenty of empty rooms now," Sarah sighed, her shoulders slumping. Several of the guests had opted to leave early due to the investigation, and she couldn't blame them. After all, the entire time they had all assumed that the killer was long gone, he had been lurking in Henry's closet. Was he still hiding somewhere?
"How do we know he's not still on the property?" Sarah asked with a slight shudder.
"I have my officers doing a thorough search," the sheriff said with confidence. "If they don't find him on the premises, then he isn't here. However, you should all be cautious, because he could very well come back. This place is large and it's going to be impossible to keep it secure.”
Vicky and Sarah nodded at his words. With so many sprawling gardens, small outbuildings, and many rooms, the inn was a perfect hiding place. Aunt Ida walked over to the kitchen window and stared out wistfully at the staff's quarters.
"Just have to wonder what he could have been looking for," she said to herself, her mind racing as she tried to unravel the mystery. "What could be so important that it would warrant taking the life of another person?”
“Are you sure you don't want to come and stay with Phil and me tonight?” Sarah asked Vicky and Aunt Ida with a frown. “I hate to think of you being all alone here. I think it would be better if we were all together.”
'We won't be alone,” Vicky said firmly as she pushed herself up from the table. “Aunt Ida will stay with me tonight, won't you?” she asked, and glanced over at Aunt Ida.
“Of course,” Aunt Ida agreed. “Didn't I ever tell you girls that I have a black belt in Jujitsu?” she smiled proudly. Both sisters stared at her with wide eyes at those words. It wasn't too much of a stretch for Vicky to imagine Aunt Ida flipping someone right over her shoulder, despite her diminutive size. She wouldn't put anything past Aunt Ida.
***
Aunt Ida settled into Vicky's apartment that night, but she didn't seem very comfortable. Vicky could tell that she was not at all pleased with how plain it was. She could see the woman's mind spinning with ways she could brighten it up and make it more fun to live in. But she was tactful enough to keep it to herself.
"Are you okay sweetie?" she asked Vicky as she glanced in her niece's direction. "Do you want some water or an aspirin for your head?"
"No, it's not too bad really," Vicky said with a small smile. It did hurt, but it did not hurt as bad as it had earlier. She was feeling a lot clearer in her mind as well.
"We can't let this chump get away with this kind of behavior," Aunt Ida said fiercely as she began to pace back and forth across the carpet. “We have to figure out who it is!”
"I know," Vicky said as she watched her aunt pace. "But we have no idea who he is. All I know for sure is that he had the same tattoo that I saw on Bob's arm, that awful one with the snake and the blade," she scrunched up her nose at the memory of it.
"Well, maybe they're friends," Aunt Ida suggested and then laughed at her own wor
ds. "Well I guess not anymore."
"Aunt Ida," Vicky sighed and tried not to encourage her aunt. She tended to say some rather inappropriate things.
"We're alone now so we don't have to pretend that we're all upset. Bob wasn't exactly a good person," she reminded Vicky as she sat down beside her on the plain brown couch.
"Maybe not," Vicky said quietly. "But he was still a person, and he didn't deserve to be killed."
"Then the best thing we can do is figure out what happened, and get this guy in jail," Aunt Ida said firmly as she clenched her hands into fists. "We just need a place to start. What about that strange fellow, the one who checked in recently?" Aunt Ida suggested.
“You mean Timothy?” Vicky shook her head slightly as she had suspected the man as well. She had even asked Mitchell about him.
“Mitchell said Timothy told him he was in the lounge all night, and the bartender who worked last night said he was serving Timothy until almost two in the morning,” she sighed as yet another suspect was crossed off the list. “So he may be a drinker, but not a killer.”
Aunt Ida looked just as disappointed to hear the news. “Well, there has to be something that can give us a clue as to who the killer might be,” Aunt Ida said thoughtfully.
"Maybe we can take a look around the garden tomorrow and see if there are any clues that the police missed," Vicky said with a mild shrug. "But Mitchell was right, we need to be very careful. Whoever this person is he could have killed me today if he wanted to, and I don't think he'll be giving out any second chances."
"Absolutely," Aunt Ida nodded. "We'll make sure we are very cautious. Speaking of Mitchell," she added without even taking a breath between her words. "Isn't he just the handsomest young man that you've ever seen?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. “And he sure does seem to like you.”
"Don't get any ideas Aunt Ida," Vicky warned as she met her gaze. "We only went on one date. He's a very nice man, but I'm not looking for anything too serious,” Vicky reminded her firmly.
"Oh sweetie," Aunt Ida chuckled, as if Vicky was a well meaning child. "No one looks for serious, serious finds them," she winked lightly at her and then yawned. She stretched out her arms above her head. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Are you sure it's all right for me to use your bed?"