by Cindy Bell
“Only if you are guilty.” Mitchell studied her. “Are you more concerned about protecting the inn or finding the truth about a woman’s death?”
His words hit home with Vicky. She wanted to protest against the accusation, but she couldn’t. She had been more focused on figuring out where the berries had come from and how they ended up in a basket in Freida’s room that was supposedly organized by the inn than she had been about Freida being dead.
“Listen, Mitchell. I went to see the grocer and he says that there were two fruit baskets ordered yesterday, but they have no details of who ordered them and they don’t have any berries in stock at all. I’m starting to think that maybe someone added the berries to the order afterwards. I think this has all been intentional and the fact that it was addressed from the inn makes it even worse.”
“I know,” Mitchell said. “That is why you need to give your statements. You need to look like you are cooperating with the investigation, and I won’t have to face an inquisition about why my wife is stalling a police investigation.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “I understand why you don’t always trust the police, but I’m your husband. I know you trust me.”
Vicky nodded silently. She knew that she could trust him. She also knew that he was right, stalling the investigation would only make them look guiltier in the eyes of the law.
“Don’t ever think that we can be on opposite sides, Vicky. I will always be in your corner.”
Vicky felt some relief at his words. After Mitchell left the apartment, Ida stepped inside.
“What was all of that about?” she asked.
“It was about the berries of course, but it’s nothing to worry about. Now, let’s find out why Freida might have been a target.” She opened up her computer and began searching. Ida peered over her shoulder as Vicky brought up article after article and skimmed over them. Most of them were junk stories, but some seemed to have a newsworthy cause.
“I’ll get us some coffee.” Ida walked towards the kitchen.
The more Vicky looked at Freida’s articles the more she began to suspect that Freida was more of a skilled journalist than she often portrayed herself to be.
“Have you found anything yet?” Ida walked over with two cups of coffee from the kitchen.
“I might have.” Vicky frowned. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“What is it?” Ida asked.
“It looks like Freida was working hard to expose the truth about the war injury that Roman claims. She was publishing articles about how no evidence could be found to prove that he had even been in a war, let alone injured in one.” Vicky frowned as she read over the information.
“I remember him telling me about that during our walk.” Ida grimaced. “That would be a terrible thing to lie about. I definitely think he has an injury.”
“But was it caused in a war?” Vicky asked. “I bet Freida had finally found proof and she was going to reveal it. I overheard her saying she was not afraid of Roman. I wonder if he had been threatening her in an attempt to cover up the information she found. He might have been the person who her editor was talking about on the phone.”
“Roman doesn’t seem very threatening.” Ida shook her head. “He seems more like he would be a caring and determined leader.”
“Aunt Ida, I respect your opinion, but don’t all politicians try to be perceived that way?” Vicky felt a little bad for questioning her aunt. She knew that Ida had a lot more experience than she did when it came to world travels and different political customs, but to her it seemed as if her aunt had allowed herself to be caught up in something that wasn’t quite true.
“You might be right about that,” Ida reluctantly agreed. She didn’t want to admit that she might have been conned. “He does seem like a nice fellow though.”
“But we need to find out if that nice fellow committed murder.” Vicky tapped her finger lightly against the keyboard. “I’m going to call her editor and see what information she had about Roman. Maybe if we know exactly what it was she had found, we’ll get a lead.”
“Maybe.” Ida grew quiet. Vicky knew she was upset by the idea that Roman might be involved. But the more Vicky thought about it, the more sense it made to her. Roman obviously was hoping for a big political future, if Freida had found something that would end that, before it even had the chance to properly get off the ground, he might be angry enough to eliminate her. Vicky decided to take a walk while she made the call.
“I’m going to get some fresh air, Aunt Ida. Do you want to join me?” Vicky asked.
“No, I think I’m going to scrounge up something to eat.” Ida left Vicky’s apartment with a smile on her lips, but Vicky could tell she was faking it. It bothered Vicky to suspect someone who Ida was so certain was innocent, but she felt her aunt was dazzled by Roman’s charm. She had jotted down Heather’s number earlier. She rummaged in her purse to find it, then dialed it on her cell phone. As she stepped outside she was greeted by cool, crisp air. As the evening progressed, the temperature was steadily dropping.
“Hello?” Heather sounded exhausted.
“Hello, Heather, this is Vicky from the Heavenly Highland Inn.”
“Oh yes, Vicky. I’ve already spoken to the police and the coroner.”
“I understand. I was just thinking about what you said earlier, and I was wondering if there was anything more you could tell me. Or maybe what Freida was working on,” Vicky paused. She wondered if Heather would be willing to tell her anything.
“Why do you want to know?” There was hesitation in Heather’s voice. “Do you work for them?”
“Them? Who do you mean?” Vicky sat down in the patio area outside the banquet hall.
“Roman Blade and Trevor Scales.”
“Of course not. They are staying at the inn though. Is that who you think hurt Freida?” Vicky’s heart skipped a beat. “Is it because of something she found out about Roman?”
“What does it matter now? She’s gone.”
“That doesn’t mean that someone shouldn’t be punished if they murdered her,” Vicky pointed out.
“Listen, the coroner told me that her food was poisoned. The police are acting like your inn might be responsible for her death. So, why are you talking to me?”
“I know it wasn’t our fault. I know that someone sent the fruit basket to frame us. I’m just trying to figure out why, and who.” Vicky sighed. “Maybe it was a mistake to call.”
“Look, I was upset earlier. Yes, Freida was investigating Roman, and yes, she had some dirt on him and was digging for more. But that doesn’t make him a killer. I think you need to worry about what’s happening in your kitchen. Trust me, you don’t want to make an enemy out of Roman Blade and his entourage.” With that she hung up. Vicky listened to the resulting dial tone for a few moments before hanging up as well.
Had Heather just warned her not to look into Roman? Vicky had always trusted her aunt’s judgment before. Maybe not her fashion sense, but Ida always had a pretty good grasp on people. Could she really be this wrong about Roman? Vicky sighed as she wondered if she had been too caught up in the idea that Roman was guilty. She decided to head inside and go over other possible suspects. Vicky walked past the windows of the banquet hall. She had her mind on what might have really happened to Freida. Was it really possible that someone had intentionally poisoned her? If so, was it Roman or Trevor? Was it someone on the staff? It made her feel terrible to even consider it. It could have been anyone really.
As Vicky turned towards the banquet hall to head back inside she noticed a shadow moving through it. The banquet hall had been closed since Freida’s body had been found. Vicky was certain that no one should be inside. Her stomach tightened. Was someone trying to repeat the event, perhaps with a new target?
Vicky crept close to the windows. She didn’t want to alert whoever was inside to the fact that she was on to them. Instead she wanted to catch them in the act. Vicky saw the shadow move across t
he wall again. It was very large and rotund. In fact it reminded her of a bear. At that thought her chest grew tight. She recalled thinking the same thing about the plumber. Was it Benny inside? Had he been the one to poison Freida? Vicky shuddered at the idea. She had no idea why Benny would want Freida dead. She knew that he didn’t have much business, had he broken the sprinkler head hoping to get himself a job? It didn’t make much sense to Vicky, but there he was lumbering through the banquet hall.
Vicky grabbed the handle of the side door of the hall and pulled it open slowly and silently. Benny continued towards the double doors at the entrance. Vicky slipped into the banquet hall behind him.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she commanded. She was terrified on the inside, but she wanted to seem intimidating on the outside. Benny turned around slowly to face her. He stared at her through dim lighting.
“You have something of mine.” He narrowed his eyes.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Vicky demanded.
Benny took a large step towards her. Vicky was surprised by how much space he could cover with one outstretched leg.
“Just what it means. I came back for my fans.” He met her eyes. “Remember? I let you use them to dry the carpet. I need them back. There was no one in the lobby and I thought they might be in here.”
“Oh, that’s the reason why you were roaming around here in the dark?” Vicky was still skeptical.
“I couldn’t figure out how to turn the lights on. You know I did you a favor by leaving those fans in the first place. Maybe you could be kind enough to return them?” He scowled at her.
Vicky found that his story was beginning to add up. He did have a reason for being there. As far as she had seen he had not even attempted to enter the kitchen.
“Of course, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you.” She sighed. “The fans are in the storage closet in the hallway. Follow me.”
She stepped past him. He trailed after her.
“I can see why you’re jumpy. Did you figure out who damaged the sprinkler?”
“No.” Vicky opened the door to the storage closet. “I haven’t really thought about it to be honest.”
She frowned as he retrieved his fans. Now that he had reminded her of the sprinkler head, it made her wonder. Had the person who damaged the sprinkler been somehow connected to the murder? Did someone do this to damage the reputation of the inn? Or was there another connection?
“Thanks for helping me get these. Remember me for any future plumbing needs.” He flashed her a smile.
“I will.” Vicky was distracted as she closed the closet door. As she began walking down the hallway she recalled how the entire cause of the chaotic dinner was the flooded banquet hall. Would someone really go to such lengths to stage enough of a diversion to create a reason to send the fruit basket as an apology from management and poison Freida? The thought of it made Vicky cringe. It also made her even more worried that the murderer might just be someone on the inn’s staff. She turned on her heel and headed back into the banquet hall. She needed to try and find out if a staff member was responsible for poisoning Freida.
Chapter 13
As Vicky walked through the banquet hall into the kitchen, the door to the courtyard opened at the same time. Ida stepped in and met Vicky’s eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’m guessing the same thing that you are.” Vicky smiled a little. “I was going to go through the events of last night to see who could have put the berries in the basket after it was delivered.”
“Yes, we are definitely here for the same reason.”
Vicky was often surprised at how similar she and her aunt thought. It made her proud to think that she took after her aunt in many ways.
“What if whoever broke the sprinkler is also the killer?” Vicky walked around behind the kitchen island. “It might have even been the same person that closed the windows I know I left open. Maybe they’re trying to frame us.”
“Do you really think the two are connected?” Ida asked dubiously. “If so, that means that someone has been planning this for some time.”
“I know, we need to try and piece the events together,” Vicky said.
“We know that the basket was delivered by Monica to room 310,” Ida said.
“Yes?” Vicky looked towards the voice to see Monica standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Did you need something, Vicky?”
“Why are you still here?” Vicky asked. Her voice was a little harder than usual.
Monica blushed and looked down at her hands. “I fell asleep. I was changing the linen on a bed in one of the guest rooms. I was so tired. I just wanted to lay down, just for a moment. I know my shift ended hours ago, but I just woke up.”
“Monica, I don’t care if you took a nap.” Vicky felt sympathy for Monica as she could see how tired she was.
“Vicky, you seem upset with me.” Monica frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Vicky shook her head. “But I have a question for you. When you took the fruit basket to Freida’s room did you notice if there were berries in it?” Vicky looked at her intently.
“I can’t remember,” she admitted. Then she got a bit irate which Vicky presumed was from exhaustion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. It was such a shock to find her that way. I just can’t remember. I thought she had died from natural causes.”
“Vicky’s not accusing you, Monica,” Ida spoke up softly from behind Vicky. “We’re just trying to get to the bottom of it all.”
“When you left the room did she say anything to you?” Vicky asked.
“No. She didn’t even look at me. She was on the phone. So, I just left the fruit.” Monica reached up and wiped at her eyes. “Maybe if I had paid more attention somehow this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Monica, it sounds like you did everything you could.” Ida smiled soothingly at the woman. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
“If only I could.” She sniffled as she left the banquet hall.
Ida turned to face Vicky. “She is so upset.”
“I would be, too,” Vicky said. “I don’t know what would be the best thing to do next.”
“Well, we still need to figure out where the berries came from. Maybe if we do some research into where they are sold, or where they can be harvested, we might be able to get a better idea of who had them. We need to find out who had access to the berries and whether they knew they were poisonous and why someone pretended that management delivered the basket,” Ida said.
“What about the sprinkler?” Vicky reminded her. “Maybe it has something to do with it as well.”
“It could still be a coincidence,” Ida suggested.
“No matter what it takes we need to figure this out. Until we know who and why, everyone at the inn might be at risk.” Ida nodded with a worried expression. “I’m going to see if Sarah has any new information about the fruit basket,” Vicky said.
“Okay, I’ll meet up with you later.” Ida nodded.
Vicky knew that Sarah had not yet left for the day. She found her near the front desk gathering her purse and jacket.
“I’m going home,” she announced her intentions before Vicky could even speak. “The kids are wild, and I’m tired, I need my husband and my kids, and a soft bed.”
“I understand,” Vicky said sympathetically. “But I need to talk to you about something first.”
Sarah looked at her with dread. “What is it? I’m sure that things can’t get any worse.”
“Not here.” Vicky pulled Sarah into the small office behind the front desk. Once inside the office Sarah turned to face her.
“What is it? Did you find out something about Freida’s death?” Sarah looked at her sister anxiously.
“It’s more than that, Sarah. I think we need to consider that Monica might be involved in this. She did deliver the fruit basket.” She knew that she should also tell Sarah about the
conversation she had with Heather, and the information she had found out about Roman, but she didn’t think that Sarah needed to know all of that just yet.
“Monica wouldn’t be involved in something like this.”
“But Monica has also been exhausted, Sarah. Maybe she made a mistake. Or maybe someone offered her enough money to take a long vacation.” Vicky crossed her arms.
“Vicky, that’s terrible!” Sarah shook her head.
“It might be, but let’s be honest here, enough money can make people do terrible things. I’m not saying that it wouldn’t surprise me if it turns out to be Monica, I never would expect her to do something like that, but still, as of now she was the one with the murder weapon so to speak.”
Vicky unfolded her arms and tucked her hands into her pockets. She could tell that Sarah was upset by the very idea of her questioning Monica’s involvement, but Vicky also knew that Sarah was extra sympathetic to Monica. Sarah had been where Monica was, exhausted and struggling to stay awake because of a teething baby. Sarah could understand where Monica was coming from. Vicky on the other hand, saw the potential for that exhaustion and desperation to be exploited by someone who wanted to get rid of Freida. Vicky was fairly certain that the woman had no shortage of enemies after all of the scathing articles she had written.
“It would have been a big coincidence that she got to deliver the fruit basket in the first place,” Sarah said as her cell phone began to ring. She looked at the screen. “It’s Phil,” she explained to Vicky as she answered. While Sarah spoke to her husband, Vicky glanced around the office. She was starting to feel paranoid about who might have damaged the sprinkler and why. The question in her mind was did Freida die because of something she had done or written, or had she died in an attempt to ruin the reputation of the inn. Her stomach churned with disgust.
As Vicky thought about all the possible scenarios, the same scenario played over in her head as Sarah walked towards her. “Do you think it’s possible that Roman ordered the fruit basket?” Vicky asked thoughtfully as soon as Sarah had ended her call.