The couple turned to us, expectantly.
“The local cop is coming to check on us tomorrow,” I said. “If we can get you two across the gully, I’m sure he can give you a lift to town.”
I might have imagined it, but I thought the woman gave a start when I said “cop.”
Chapter Thirty-one
“Hi, I’m Katy,” said my friend, flashing a smile and stepping forward.
“I’m, er, Charles,” said the man. “This is Caril.”
Katy gave a start.
“Caril and Charles?”
Does she recognize them?
I took in the couple standing in front of us. Neither looked familiar to me. I hadn’t heard those names before, but something had alerted Katy.
She recovered instantly.
“Are you from around here?” she asked, turning on her friendly smile again.
“From Maine,” said the man. “We go all over the world hiking the tallest peaks. We come here every year to go up the White Mountains. It’s the highest range in this part of the country.”
Something about these two smelled fishy.
Charles was pale and pudgy, more like someone who spent his days in an underground bunker playing computer games than someone who hiked outdoors. The woman was scrawny and sickly looking.
I’d have expected anyone who climbs the tallest mountains in the world to have toned muscled and a ruddy complexion. Caril and Charles had the right gear, but if they were mountain climbers, Katy and I were princesses at Buckingham Palace.
“Good thing you saw the house light from up there,” said Katy brightly. “If we hadn’t got the generator up, you’d still be stuck on the mountains.”
“We’ve been through worse,” said Charles with a shrug. “Remember Peru?” he said, turning to his partner. She didn’t respond. “Besides, the human body is resilient. We humans can survive anything.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Anything?”
“You’d be surprised.”
Tetyana leaned over. “Did you see a hiker’s cabin on your way down here?”
A strange look crossed the woman’s face.
“Cabin?” said the man.
“The shack along the trail,” said Tetyana. “Looks like it was built for hikers like you to stay the night safely.”
Charles shook his head and pursed his lips. “We must have taken a different trail.”
The woman reached over and took the man’s hand. It was a simple gesture, but I couldn’t help wondering if that was a warning to not talk too much.
“A house is so much more comfortable than a shack in the woods,” said Katy with a small laugh, breaking the awkward silence. “Well? Shall we go inside then and get a warm cup of tea?”
Charles nodded.
“After you,” said Katy as she swept her arm grandiosely at the manor.
As our friend ushered the couple toward the house, Tetyana and I followed them quietly. I wondered at how promptly both the pastor and Jim had left the scene. Did they know something we didn’t?
The five of us trooped inside the kitchen.
Nancy was cutting a hunk of meat on the counter. In her hands was one of the red-handled knives I’d seen on the knife block before.
Doctor Fulton was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, his phone in one hand, punching it, vainly trying to make it work.
Pastor Graham, Lisa, and Barry were nowhere to be seen.
Nancy raised her head as we piled in and scowled at the sight of the two strangers.
“Pastor said you were coming,” she said, squinting at Charles and Caril. “If y’all are looking to stay here, you’d better get to work.”
With an angry sniff, she turned back to her cutting board.
“No eggs or bacon, so no breakfast,” she said as she sliced the slab of meat in two with one deft chop. “Jim was supposed to go to town to get groceries but that ain’t happening today, so no complaining.”
I didn’t blame her for being upset.
Mrs. Robinson was gone, which meant she and Jim had been left alone to take care of the household duties. On top of that, five uninvited people had shown up without notice.
I walked up to the counter.
“Hey, Nancy. Happy to help you out.”
“Me too,” said Katy. “And I can eat veggies and steak for breakfast any day.”
Nancy gave another withering glare at Charles and Caril.
“We’ve got some dry food in our backpacks,” said Charles, seeing her face. “You don’t have to bother about us. We’re good.”
Nancy replied with a scowl.
“Happy to wash dishes,” said Charles.
At least he was trying.
Nancy gave a nod and turned back to her cutting board.
“You can wash up first,” she said, not looking up. “Toilet’s just outside.”
I sighed in relief to know she wasn’t going to throw a Barry-like tantrum. Things were looking bleak enough without everyone in this house acting out.
With their bags still on their backs, Caril and Charles walked toward the staff entrance. I watched them stumble out of the kitchen, a strange feeling coming over my stomach. It was like a red flag just went up. Something bothered me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“I’ll get the veggies,” said Katy, walking up to the fridge and opening it.
I turned to the doctor. He’d been silent all along and had not said a word to the couple or to us.
But he was looking up now, his attention transfixed on the door through which Charles and Caril had disappeared. He touched the wound on his nose.
“Doctor Fulton,” I said, making him jerk around. “Is your phone working?”
He gave me a startled look, like he just realized where he was. “My phone?”
“Yes.”
He straightened in his chair and seemed to collect himself.
He shook his head.
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t. Pastor Graham said nothing was working here, even the landline, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”
Tetyana walked over to me, a concerned look on her face.
“I’m going to check up on the car,” she said.
I nodded. The car again. Something was up.
“Keep your eyes open,” she whispered before stepping out.
“Are you going to help or not?” snapped Nancy, looking my way.
I walked up to the counter with a sigh. I felt like I was feeling my way through a constantly changing labyrinth. Every time I thought I figured something out, something new popped up.
Doctor Fulton turned in his chair when Charles and Caril returned to the kitchen. They looked casual enough, even comfortable in the house, as they put their bags down and walked up to the kitchen counter.
The doctor’s eyes flickered nervously. Was it fear I saw in them? Did he know these two strangers?
He stirred and got up wordlessly. Then, he shuffled over to the side door that led to the staff quarters.
I exchanged a glance with Katy, who’d now taken up vegetable-chopping duties. Under instructions from Nancy, Charles had begun to wash the potatoes and Caril was unloading the dishwasher.
The kitchen was getting busy.
But it wasn’t the buzz of an engaged and happy team. It was the silent sound of people, none of whom wanted to be here, working under duress.
I had so many questions for the doctor, the pastor, Jim, and even Katy and Tetyana. But I had to be discreet.
I put the dishcloth on the counter. “Just going to the washroom. Be back in a minute,” I said to the room as I stepped toward the staff entrance.
It was time to find Doctor Fulton and ask him my burning question.
How did Mrs. Robinson die?
Chapter Thirty-two
Doctor Fulton was pacing the corridor, muttering to himself.
His back was to me, but I noticed the hand holding his phone was trembling.
“Was it a heart attack?�
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He spun around and gawked. The doctor looked more sickly than when I first saw him.
I walked up to him.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
He blinked rapidly.
The man’s skittish.
“I was with Mrs. Robinson in her last moments,” I explained, softening my voice. “I held her till she stopped breathing.”
I had his full attention now. He nodded, almost absentmindedly.
“You... you administered the CPR?” he said.
A pang of guilt went through me. I looked away.
“I didn’t try hard enough.”
He stared at me, silently.
“Doctor Fulton,” I said, “can you tell me what Mrs. Robinson died of?”
He looked away and fixed his eyes on something on the wall behind me for almost half a minute.
I waited.
He seemed to be deciding whether to answer, and I didn’t want to frighten him to silence.
“I wish I could tell,” he said finally, letting out a heavy sigh.
He started pacing again, his face shrouded in worry. It was like he’d forgotten I was here.
A scraping noise came from behind me. I turned to look.
Nothing.
Maybe I imagined it.
I turned my focus back to the doctor.
“She was the epitome of good health,” he was saying, more to himself than me. “I used her as a model for how one can grow older and stay active, getting none of the horrible diseases everyone else seems to have these days. Obesity, diabetes, heart disease, cancer. This is what my patients have.”
He turned to me with a grave look.
“She was too young to die.”
“How old was she? In her sixties?”
He nodded. “So many of my patients are decaying in mind and body, sitting on their couches, stuffing themselves with cookies and chips. She wasn’t one of them. She called herself old, but she was fit as a fiddle.”
He looked down at his shoes and shook his head sadly.
“It’s a shock she died like that. This puzzles me.”
“So, you don’t think it was a heart attack, then?” I prodded gently.
He didn’t answer, staring thoughtfully at the floor instead.
“Could it have been something else?”
“Like what?” he said, looking up quickly.
You’re the doctor, I wanted to say, but I stopped myself just in time.
“Perhaps something she ate or drank yesterday?”
He started pacing again.
“Impossible.”
“Something she ingested by mistake?” I said. “Or inhaled, perhaps?”
“That’s preposterous. It would have to be strong enough to kill her. What an insinuation. She was a smart woman. She’d never do anything stupid.”
“Unless...,” I said, hoping this wouldn’t backfire on me. I knew it wasn’t smart to trust anyone in this house, but the doctor was an outsider from town, and he seemed genuinely perturbed by what had happened. I had to trust my instincts.
“Unless what?”
“Unless someone deliberately gave her something, and she didn’t realize what she was taking.”
Doctor Fulton stopped pacing, pulled his hands out of his pockets and gaped.
“That’s madness,” he said. “What an absolutely ridiculous suggestion. How could you even think of such a...?” He leaned toward me and scrutinized me.
“What makes you say that?”
“She was coughing and wheezing last night. Everyone seemed to think that was unusual of her.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow.
“Mrs. Robinson coughing? But she hardly caught a cold.”
“Some household members said she’d been like this for a few weeks. She clutched her chest a few times when she coughed. It was like she was in pain.”
“That doesn’t sound like her at all.”
I paused. This was it.
“Doctor, did you know Mrs. Robinson was getting anonymous letters?”
He stared.
“Death threats delivered in envelopes that had some kind of white powder.”
His face turned pale, but he didn’t reply.
“She showed us one of them. She thought it was baby powder, but it could have been anything.”
“Where... where is that letter?”
“She took it back and put it in her pocket.” I paused. “You didn’t check her pockets, did you?”
He shook his head. “It didn’t even occur to me...” He paused and squinted. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying someone may have tried to poison her using those letters.”
“How did you find her tonight?”
“It was Nancy. We heard her scream and came running here to see Mrs. Robinson fainted on the floor. She was having difficulty breathing. She also had a hard time moving her fingers and arms. That’s why I thought it was a stroke at first.”
The doctor rubbed his face, like he was trying to get rid of his exhaustion.
“Doesn’t make sense,” he said. “If she had suspected something, she’d have called me. I told her to always call me if she needed help. She was the one who alerted me whenever Barry fell ill.”
“She came across as someone who’d ask for help for everyone else but herself,” I said.
The doctor nodded sadly.
“Aye, that she was. But she was also a responsible woman. She knew everyone depended on her. She was such a good person.”
I felt guilt rise in me again. Mrs. Robinson had depended on us to save her, and we’d failed. I had failed.
We stood silently for a moment, regarding each other across the dimly lit corridor.
I felt a prickle in my neck, like someone was watching us. I twisted around, but there was no one.
I turned back to the doctor.
“Is there any way to find out if she had ingested something she shouldn’t have?”
“These circumstances are too strange. There are too many unknowns...” He suddenly straightened up.
He turned to me, confidence returning to his face. “I’m going to order an autopsy. I believe it’s warranted. Yes, indeed.”
I nodded in relief.
“The pastor said Mrs. Robinson’s body is in the wine cellar now,” I said. “Where is that?”
The doctor pointed vaguely in the direction of Mrs. Robinson’s bedroom. That was when I noticed the smaller steel door next to it, like the entrance to a large walk-in cooler or fridge.
“It was Lisa who suggested the wine room,” said the doctor. “She and Pastor Graham helped me to take her down. Not the most dignified place, but it’s the best we can do until we find a way to get out of here. It’s locked so no one can go in there.”
“Who has the key?”
“I never asked...,” he started but stopped himself. The doctor shot me a suspicious look.
“Wait. Who are you again? You’re not from town, are you?”
“No, we got here yesterday.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Mrs. Robinson called us for help. She wanted us to help her with the letters.” I paused. “We’re a private investigator team.”
The doctor sighed and shook his head.
“Why didn’t she call me?” he said, vehemence in his voice.
I shrugged. “She said she couldn’t trust anyone.”
The doctor rubbed his face wearily again, like he was befuddled by the day’s events.
“By the way,” I said casually, “do you recognize those two lost hikers?”
He gave me a startled look but didn’t reply.
“Have you met them before?”
It wasn’t a hard question. The answer was a simple yes or no.
“Never seen them before.”
“They’re not from town, then?”
Doctor Fulton turned abruptly and walked toward the washrooms, like he was in a hurry now.
“Look, I need
to freshen up,” he said, no longer looking at me. “It’s been a long day.”
“Doctor Fulton,” I called out as he opened the door to the toilet. “You might want to check that cut on your nose.”
His hand flew to his face, as if he’d just remembered that wound.
“I er, ah, took a misstep and grazed myself on the stone wall, when we were moving Mrs. Robinson’s body into the cellar.”
I nodded, though I knew he was lying.
That didn’t happen a few minutes ago. I’d seen it on his face when he arrived at the house.
Before I could pepper him with more questions, the doctor opened the bathroom door, walked in, and closed the door behind him.
From inside, I heard the turn of the latch and a loud and desperate groan. Then a slam, like he’d smashed his fist against the wall.
Chapter Thirty-three
I lowered my voice.
“Did you see anything?”
Katy shook her head.
“Didn’t have time to check properly with nosy Nancy around, but I looked everywhere I could, even in the recipe books on the windowsill.” She let out a sigh. “Maybe the letters aren’t in the kitchen?”
“We can do a more thorough search tonight,” said Tetyana, “when everyone, including Nancy, has gone to bed.”
The three of us were huddled next to our car in the driveway. It was chilly outside, but other than our room upstairs, this was the only place we could talk without worrying about eavesdroppers.
Tetyana had the bonnet up and was checking the engine oil. In reality, she was using it as a cover to keep a sharp eye on the house and the grounds. She was also waiting for a good time to sneak into the barn to find out what was so special about it.
A neigh in the distance reminded us there were animals inside.
“Funny, they don’t let them out,” I said. “Wonder how many they have in there?”
“No dogs either,” said Katy. “I don’t trust a big house like this with no pups.”
“Weird place, that’s for sure,” said Tetyana.
It had been a strange morning all around
Surprising everyone, Nancy had rapidly embraced her role as Mrs. Robinson’s replacement. She bossed everyone around, including Jim, who kept disappearing to the barn, to avoid her sharp tongue, it seemed.
Working silently together, Charles, Caril, Katy, and I had helped Nancy out in the kitchen. It was strange that Caril was standing up and moving about the way she did, for someone with a twisted ankle.
Merciless Legacy: Merciless Murder - A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series Page 15