“Got lots of tools in the barn,” said Jim. “Got a circular saw that can cut though wet lumber.”
“Great,” said Tetyana, “I’ll go to the barn first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Jim will get it for you,” said the pastor, speaking quickly. He turned to the younger man. “You’ll prepare everything for her, won’t you?”
Jim’s face turned taut, but he gave an obedient nod. “Yes, Pastor. I’ll get everything out by dawn.”
I tried not to look at my friends.
What’s so special about the barn?
I sat back in my chair, listening to the hum of conversation around me. Though I’d known her for only a very short while, I missed Mrs. Robinson.
She’d been central to this mystery, and she’d left without telling us everything she knew. I wondered how we were going to unravel all the threads that were coming loose in this maddening household.
We had too many unanswered questions about the barn, the cabin in the woods, the two people arguing in the clearing, the mysterious tire tracks on the old riverbed, the hiker couple who’d appeared out of nowhere, the pastor’s strange hold over this family, and Mrs. Robinson’s death letters.
Were all these even related?
Discovering the codicil had been our biggest shock. It blew my mind to think we could be the new owners of this manor. While Tetyana seemed to think it was a real possibility and Katy wished it would be, I wasn’t sure if it was a hoax.
If it was real, what a cruel inheritance it was. Madame Bouchard’s vengeful legacy to her own family.
I remembered how she had clutched my arm as she had breathed her last breaths. Find my children and tell them I did it because I loved them, had been her exact words.
I looked up and glanced discreetly at Lisa and Barry. Both had their heads down over their plates.
What did they do to anger their mother this much?
No, we weren’t at the Mad Hatter’s tea party.
We had tumbled into a more sinister place. We were in the Queen of Heart’s labyrinth garden. An improbable maze with upside-down stairs, walls that move, and tunnels that go nowhere. A strange place inhabited by strange folk.
And somewhere in an upscale graveyard in New York reserved for affluent customers, the Queen of Hearts, herself, was having a good chuckle at us.
What a day, I thought as I forced myself to swallow another spoonful of soup. I needed the nourishment, but my appetite had disappeared. I was exhausted, badly in need of sleep, and time to think.
What I didn’t know then, was the night was only going to get longer.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Something made me look up.
It was Caril.
She was staring at me from the other end of the table.
She kept her gaze steady while I tried to maintain a stoic face. But I was faltering. I watched her watching me, wondering what was going on behind those dark glasses.
I gave her a cordial nod.
Any normal person would have acknowledged someone looking back at them. A nod back, a smile, an embarrassed look away, but Caril’s face remained motionless.
Who is this woman?
Next to me, Lisa broke a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. Then I heard the click of her spoon on her bowl.
Caril’s face shifted. She was staring at Lisa now.
Across from her, Charles was having a chat with Barry, or rather listening to Barry rumble on about something. Charles was nodding politely, but I could see his attention was on everyone else.
His eyes kept sweeping across the table, as if he was expecting something to happen.
“A toast.”
I looked up, startled. I’d been so engrossed in Caril and Charles, I hadn’t been following the conversation around the table.
Pastor Graham pushed his chair back and stood up, a glass of wine in his hand.
“A toast?” I asked, aghast.
A celebration when someone just died?
The pastor nodded.
“Yes, a toast,” he said, seeing my face. “To Mrs. Robinson.”
The room fell silent.
The pastor scanned the table.
“Most of you here knew Mrs. Robinson well. She was a strong woman. A loving woman. She treated us like family. She was family. To all of us.”
Jim raised his glass.
“Hear, hear,” he said.
“She was an amazing person,” continued the pastor with a sad smile, but his words sounded mechanical, hollow.
“The only comfort we can take,” he continued, still standing, “is that our loving Mrs. Robinson went to the afterlife without much pain. Angels were watching over her. She had a good life with us and in the end, it was a fast and painless transition for her.”
“To Mrs. Robinson,” said Jim, raising his glass, but I couldn’t help but feel he was parroting something he’d been told to say.
Next to me, Doctor Fulton kept his eyes on his plate. His face was pale and his lips were set in a thin line.
I wanted to nudge him and ask him if this was true. Did Mrs. Robinson really have a painless death?
I was there when she died.
Her transition hadn’t been fast or painless. She’d struggled to breathe. She’d choked on her own saliva. She had fought to stay alive.
Her last days on earth weren’t the most pleasant ones either. They’d been wracked by death threats and bad health.
Pastor Graham’s tribute didn’t ring true.
Maybe he was being sincere. Maybe he was just trying to make everyone feel better. Maybe he didn’t know about the death threats she’d been receiving.
Doctor Fulton cleared his throat, as if he wanted to speak. But Jim scraped his chair back and stood up, glass in his hand.
“Mrs. Robinson was one of the nicest women I had ever known. She treated Nancy and me like family from day one,” he said. “Here’s to dear Mrs. Robinson. May her spirit live forever among us.”
There was an awkward silence, as people picked up their glasses for the toast.
Next to me, I heard a quiet sob.
I turned toward my neighbor.
Lisa let out another sob, her face almost on her plate. I put my hand on her arm to comfort her. Her skin was clammy and cold. I felt my skin crawl, but I didn’t want to pull away rudely.
“It’s so sad,” I said, trying to think of the right words for a grieving person. “But she’s in a better place now. She died peacefully,” I babbled on, but Lisa didn’t respond. Instead, she buried her face in her napkin.
I looked around the table.
Lisa was the only person in the room who’d shown genuine grief for Mrs. Robinson’s death. The others seemed like they were putting on a show.
“Mrs. Robinson...”
I turned around.
Dr. Fulton was trying to speak.
“Mrs. Robinson was...”
He stopped abruptly and clutched his throat.
“She had...”
“Doctor Fulton?” I said, leaning toward him. “Are you all right?”
He gasped and wheezed, like he was struggling to breathe. A choking sound escaped from his mouth and his face turned a beet red.
I let go of Lisa, pushed my chair back and stood up, my heart pounding.
Please, no.
My voice rose.
“Is something stuck in your throat?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Around me, I vaguely heard the sounds of chairs being scraped back, of people shouting.
I threw my arms around his chest, readying for the Heimlich maneuverer when a firm hand fell on my shoulder.
It was Tetyana.
“I’ll do it,” she said, pulling me away and taking my position.
I jumped out of the way to give her space. She was stronger than I was, and her arms were longer to fit around the doctor’s stomach.
Everyone was standing up now and staring at Doctor Fulton.
Tetyana put her
fists against the doctor’s rib cage and pumped.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
But the doctor’s face only turned redder and redder. Nothing came out.
She tried again.
I whipped my phone out and tried to dial nine-one-one, but the connection was still down. I saw Katy had pulled out her phone too. She shot me a horrified look.
What’s happening?
Tetyana pulled her arms back and squared her shoulders to try again.
With a loud and chilling groan, Doctor Fulton fell face down on the table.
Chapter Thirty-nine
“Is he dead?”
It was Lisa. She was staring at the doctor.
She was the only person still seated, as if she was too shocked to move.
I turned my attention back to Doctor Fulton.
Tetyana gently raised his head and reached over to check the pulse on his neck.
Pastor Graham and Jim were hovering behind her, their expressions a mix of disbelief and terror. Nancy was on her feet, her napkin covering her mouth as if she was trying to stop herself from screaming.
Caril and Charles were huddled near the doorway, clutching at each other. They looked genuinely horrified.
For once, Barry had gone silent, his face white, and his mouth in a silent O.
All eyes were on Tetyana now.
She looked up, her face grim. Her expression told us everything.
“He’s gone,” she said as she placed his head back down on the table.
I stared at Doctor Fulton.
He was seated in his chair, his head slumped over, his chin on his chest, and his lifeless eyes closed. If I’d just walked into the room, I’d have thought he had fallen asleep in his chair.
Pastor Graham stepped up.
“Heart attack!” he yelled, waving his hands erratically.
Tetyana and I glanced at each other.
This was the second death in this house within twenty-four hours. Doctor Fulton’s passing so soon after Mrs. Robinson’s was too coincidental. I didn’t believe this was just another natural death.
“Everyone out!” shouted the pastor, shooing everyone out the door. “Out, out!”
I frowned at the man. Why was he sending everyone scurrying off? Now was the time to check for evidence and ask some serious questions.
But Caril and Charles were already out the door, and Nancy had grabbed Jim’s arm and was pulling him toward the entrance.
Barry didn’t need to be told twice. He turned around so hurriedly, he sent his chair crashing to the floor. He stumbled out, pushing the others rudely out of the way.
“Pastor Graham,” I called above the din. “What are you doing?”
He turned to me and glared.
Tetyana, Katy, and I had gathered around Doctor Fulton. I felt obligated to protect this man, or protect his dead body, and it seemed like my friends felt the same way.
“What are you lot hanging around here for?” snapped the pastor. “Leave! Now.”
“What are you planning on doing, Pastor Graham?” I asked. “We need to make sure we preserve the evidence.”
“Evidence?”
He took a step back, startled, and shot a perturbed look at the dead doctor.
Did he really think the doctor just had a heart attack?
“Poor Fulton,” said a small voice next to me.
Lisa was still in her chair, staring at the doctor, her face contorted into a mixture of pity and sadness.
“Poor, poor man,” she said. She looked up at me. “He was a good doctor, you know?”
“Lisa, go to your room,” said the pastor, sounding like a schoolteacher scolding their pupil. “We’ll take care of this.”
Lisa didn’t answer. She didn’t even budge, like she was glued to her chair.
I turned away from her and back to the pastor. It was time to ask some tough questions.
“Mrs. Robinson died only a few hours ago. The doctor said she’d been in excellent health and her death was a surprise to him.”
He stared at me.
“This morning Doctor Fulton said he was going to ask for an autopsy on her,” I said. “And tonight, he dies. A second sudden and unexpected death so soon.”
The pastor’s eyes grew wider.
“Where are you going with this?” he stammered.
“You’re a smart man, Pastor Graham. You have probably come to the same conclusions we have.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Why is he so defensive?
“Why did you ask everyone to leave the room?” asked Tetyana. “What do you plan to do with Doctor Fulton’s body?”
The pastor turned to her in surprise.
“Why? Because, this is a terrible thing. Death can be so difficult,” he spluttered. “We can’t have everyone freak out. We need to—”
“What we need to do right now,” said Tetyana, cutting him off, her voice calm but firm, “is to contact the authorities.”
“The authorities? Why in heaven’s sake?”
“And this room needs to be secured.”
“What are you going on about?”
“Pastor Graham,” I said, “I’m sure the police will have many questions.”
“The police?” He gave me a wild look. “This is preposterous.”
A rustle by the doorway caught my eye. I thought I glimpsed a shadow lurking near the entrance.
Is that Nancy? Caril? Or Charles?
I couldn’t say, but I was sure someone was out there, listening in.
“What we’re saying, Pastor, is we can’t rule murder out.”
“You can’t be serious. This is blasphemy. How can you even fathom such madness!”
He glared at us, his face turning purple.
“The only people who’d think of such an incredibly ludicrous story would be meddlesome, busybody strangers.”
He spat that last word out.
A high-pitched cry startled me.
It was Lisa.
I’d forgotten she was still here.
She threw her napkin on the table and stood up shakily. She careened for a second, and Katy leaned across to steady her.
Pushing her away, and letting out another strange, animal-like cry, Lisa ran out of the room, as if she couldn’t take this anymore.
“Who are you to talk to our pastor like that?”
I looked up.
It was Jim, hovering near the entrance. I was right. I had seen a shadow near the threshold. I guessed he’d escorted Nancy to their room and returned.
His friendly demeanor had vanished. His eyes flashed in anger.
“Why are you trying to upset everybody?”
“I’m sorry, Jim, that wasn’t my intention—”
“Mrs. Robinson and Doctor Fulton were friends. They were family,” he said, glaring at us. “Who are you to come here and tell us what to do?”
The pastor jumped in.
“I suggest you all leave this room right now. If the bridge was in working condition, I’d ask you to leave this house. We don’t need strangers here accusing us of such heinous things.”
“But Madame Bouchard wrote a—” Katy started.
I laid a hand on her arm to stop her.
This was not the time to tell them about the codicil. That conversation was best had with lawyers in the room. Maybe even the police. Otherwise, I was sure we’d see more violence in this house.
It was time to regroup.
There was not much we could do here. Without an easy connection to the outside world, we couldn’t even warn the authorities.
“We’re leaving,” I said, glaring back at the two angry men.
I walked toward the door, gesturing to my friends to follow me.
Chapter Forty
We stumbled out in a daze.
“I don’t like leaving them with Doctor Fulton,” whispered Katy as we walked away from the dining room.
“We could have stayed a
nd fought,” I said, “but I’d rather keep things discreet for now.”
“Discreet?” she whispered back hoarsely. “The doctor just died. And you both have guns, for goodness’s sake. Why didn’t you use them?”
“It’s a last resort, Katy,” said Tetyana. “Our lives weren’t in danger.”
“Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in this house with these people,” I said. “We need to be smart now, not rash. That’ll just make the killer clam up or become even more dangerous.”
“This way,” said Tetyana, signaling to us. “It’s a good time to search the kitchen for those letters.”
We took the main stairway from the second floor back to the kitchen.
“Was it poison, do you think?” asked Katy as we climbed down.
“He wasn’t shot or stabbed,” said Tetyana grimly. “Whoever did this was very careful.”
I didn’t see him eat or drink anything we didn’t,” I said, “makes me wonder if someone gave him something earlier.”
“In the kitchen maybe?” said Katy. “Nancy served him that beer he was nursing all afternoon.”
“Let’s go find his glass and the beer bottle,” I said. “We can put them away till the authorities come.”
“But why would anyone want to kill Doctor Fulton?” asked Katy.
“He knew something,” I said, “he knew how or why Mrs. Robinson died.”
Tetyana made a “quiet down” motion with her hands.
“Someone’s inside,” she whispered.
We stared at the main door to the kitchen. It was ajar and we could hear the tap running. Tetyana opened the door and stepped inside.
I’d expected to have the kitchen to ourselves, but Nancy was there, cleaning up.
She looked up when we trooped in.
“You doing okay?” I said, walking toward the counter.
“No,” she said, her voice harsher than usual.
Her hands were a blur as she put the dishes away. It was like she hoped all this activity would help her forget what had just happened.
“Need any help?” I tried again, as I reached for another dishcloth.
“Leave that be,” she said, not looking up. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Nancy,” I said, putting my hands on the counter. “Can we talk?”
Merciless Legacy: Merciless Murder - A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series Page 18