Flower Power Trip

by James J Cudney

  “Perhaps Cheney is responsible. Cheney or his parents have some sort of a connection to George from what Kellan's told me,” Ursula reminded us.

  “Detective Gilkrist is meeting with Cheney and his sister, Sierra, today. She returned to town recently and has been hovering around her brother every time we visit him. She's a first-year law student and thinks she can protect him. I'll explore that avenue if it offers up any new leads. So, if we believe George is the one who left you the note just before eight thirty, it means he then snuck into the courtyard and argued with Cheney. Helena witnessed the disagreement but disappeared when she saw the two men stop fighting.” April paused to let that information sink in. “If the killer isn't Cheney, then we have some mysterious person who managed to get into the courtyard between eight thirty and eight forty-five and found enough time to stab George and escape without being noticed by anyone. While it's possible, that's very tight timing.”

  “Helena admitted to leaving the door unlocked earlier in the night. Anyone could've snuck back there before Cheney did. There were several offices and restrooms to hide in,” I said.

  “True, but I can't ask over a hundred guests who might have had access. We're collecting statements from everyone and verifying any known absences from about eight until eight forty-five. I don't believe we've finished interviewing the Stoddards, but they are a priority for today. You must see this is currently pointing to three primary suspects,” the sheriff noted.

  “Helena. Cheney. And me,” Ursula whispered.

  “Unfortunately, I don't have enough evidence to arrest any of the three of you. I'll go through this file you found, and I plan to research your brother's likely stint as George Braun. At this point, I will be sending someone to your office with you right now to check for any fingerprints left behind during the supposed burglary. I'll need you to show us which desk drawer you kept the knife in.” April stood and indicated it was time for us both to leave. “Do not speak to anyone else, and please stay out of this investigation, Kellan.”

  “I'll do my best, but Ursula has asked me to help figure out what happened to her brother,” I reminded the sheriff. “And who might be trying to hurt her if it wasn't him.”

  “Stay out of my path while you do.” April began closing the door after Ursula and I left her office. “I'll invite you over to see the bees when this investigation is done, Little Ayrwick.”

  “I'd like that. I'm fascinated by the whole concept.” Did I really just say that? Was I feeling okay?

  When we got back to campus, Ursula left with Flatman to check her office, and I taught my morning class. It went by quickly, but in the back of my head, something was bothering me about the timing of the entire situation and the connections of the people involved. I couldn't think clearly, but I was certain Cheney Stoddard hid something important. I had to find a way to talk to him again but needed a valid reason to show up and ask pertinent questions. Hopefully, Ed Mulligan or Anita Singh would confess something to help April find the killer, unless of course, it was one of them.

  After class, I had a quick bite to eat and drove to the Pick-Me-Up Diner to collect Eleanor for her appointment with the fertility clinic. I'd almost forgotten we were going today, but I'd luckily carved out enough time.

  After we were escorted past the nurse's station, Eleanor said, “You look different. Almost like when you were a teenager smitten with some new girl. Did you meet someone new today?”

  “No! What are you talking about? I think it's all the hormone drugs you're taking. By the way,” I replied as we sat in a private room waiting for the doctor to arrive, “have you told anyone else what you're doing here?” I hadn't seen anyone today, what was she talking about? I probably looked tired, it'd been a long day already.

  “No, Mom and Dad can't know yet. Once I've got everything in order, I'll tell them it's already a done deal.” She crossed her legs and squirmed with excitement and apprehension. “I still can't believe what they have to do to make this happen.”

  “I don't want to discuss it. I promised you I'd support you throughout the process, but I will not listen to a step-by-step itinerary of the procedures. I will help you select the donor. I will drive you to and from the doctor's office. I will be the first one to say congratulations when it's confirmed you're pregnant, but—”

  Eleanor interrupted, “But if I bring up the words turkey baster, you'll throw me in the Finnulia River and claim a bear ate my body in the woods on a camping trip. I should've asked Nana D to come.”

  “Like she can keep a secret. She might be okay with you doing this, but you know Nana D would relish the thought of explaining the entire thing to Dad.” I could imagine the props and pictures our grandmother would use to divulge the secret to our poor father. He'd die of a heart attack on the spot.

  “While that might be true, please forget about that part for now. Look at these three profiles,” Eleanor said while keying a few numbers into the computer. Everything was secure and advanced at this facility. She could look up only a certain amount of details at this point in the process, but she'd have a picture if the donor had included one to help make the ultimate decision.

  Within seconds, the three images appeared on the monitor. I wasn't sure if Eleanor noticed my reaction, but I felt my own heart begin to race. “Ummm… Eleanor…”

  “What? You don't think we'd be a good match? I see gorgeous babies!” she exclaimed.

  Did she not realize it? “That's not the point. Do you see anything… about these photos… that might remind you of anyone?”

  Eleanor leaned in further while I cleaned my glasses on the off chance the surprise I saw wasn't actually on the screen. “I guess the guys all look similar. Maybe I have a type,” she quipped.

  All three men had similar striking facial structure, light brown skin, and dark hair. One was from Barbados, another from South Africa, and the third from St. Kitt's. They had the exact same color eyes, a vibrant green that clearly stood out as a mesmerizing feature. As I read the bios, each worked in dangerous jobs ranging from airport security to personal bodyguard for a well-known celebrity. “Ummm… Eleanor, you have a type. And his name is Connor Hawkins.”

  To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Eleanor had gone on a few dates with my former best friend in the months before I'd returned to Braxton. She thought Connor was very interested in getting more serious, but he did a quick sidestep and dated Maggie Roarke. I'd eventually come to learn that Connor was attracted to my sister, but he'd also had a crush on Maggie ever since we'd broken up years ago. Instead of talking to me about the possibility of dating my sister, he shut the whole scenario down and almost broke Eleanor's heart. They'd been talking about giving it a chance again, but I did my best to stay as uninvolved as possible since I wasn't the most unbiased person to help Connor sort out his romantic dilemma.

  Eleanor whacked my arm with an open hand. “That's not true. These guys are all… well, I mean… Connor has… oh no!” She crumpled against my chest and groaned loudly as the doctor walked in.

  “Hello, Eleanor. I'm excited to review your choices. I see you've got someone here with you today. I'm Dr.—” he began until my sister stood and rushed out of the room leaving me behind to explain the situation.

  “I'm her brother. We just got some urgent news from our parents. We need to help them with something. Eleanor will give you a call to reschedule, I'm sorry,” I said backing out of the office. By the time I'd gotten to the reception area, Eleanor was already gone. I called her cell, but she didn't pick up. I felt awful for what'd happened, but she was hanging on to a hope that Connor would choose her, and she truly didn't realize what she was about to do until I'd pointed it out.

  I waited a few minutes but couldn't find her. As I started the SUV's engine, my phone pinged. Eleanor said she needed some time to herself and would call me that night. She'd called an Uber to pick her up and would get back to the diner herself. Knowing my sister, a few hours of space and a focus on her job would help
her feel better. I replied that I loved her and invited her to come by later that night for rocky road ice cream and Reese's Pieces, her favorite candy.

  I drove back to campus and dashed to Paddington's Play House to retrieve a copy of the summer play. Myriam had indicated it was in the office behind the main stage. I needed to reread Sunset Boulevard before casting was finished. Upon arrival, I saw one of the students I'd worked with in the past. She was breaking down part of the King Lear set given its final performance had occurred last Saturday.

  “Hey, Yuri. It's great to see you. I've been meaning to check in with you this week,” I said, recalling she'd been working at the Roarke & Daughters Inn as a chambermaid in George's room the day he'd been killed.

  “Professor Ayrwick. What's happening? I got confirmation I could attend your advanced filmmaking class in the fall. I can't wait,” she gleefully replied. Just as last time, her hair was neon green, but it had been cut much shorter than before. She'd gained a few pounds and no longer looked waifish, but she'd added a new piercing to her left ear with a chain that ran to her nose ring. I was surprised the Roarkes allowed her to wear that at the inn. She must have caught me staring at it. “Cool, huh? I have to remove it at home or when I'm at work. Bummer, yeah?”

  I wasn't sure how to respond to the last comment, so I didn't. “That's wonderful news. It'll be good to have a student of your caliber in the room next time,” I noted. She had a lot of potential but preferred behind the scenes work, which was not my exact area of expertise. “Listen, I heard you work at the Roarke family's bed and breakfast.”

  “Yep, it's good money. I don't really dig having to clean up after some guests, but most are pretty solid about not making a huge mess.” She wiped her hands on a towel and stopped fidgeting with the set. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was curious if you happen to remember someone named George Braun. He was a guest there recently, and a friend of mine thought she—”

  “The dude that died, right?” she said loudly with an excited expression. “I can't believe I saw him that afternoon and then poof! Life's too short. That's why I make every day count,” she advised me.

  “Definitely. Any chance you learned something about him? I'm looking out for Helena Roarke and her family. From what I understand, he could be rude to the staff.” I tried to be tactful without setting off any alarms. Yuri was a nice girl, but I didn't know if she was the type to gossip about things with her friends.

  “Oh, yeah. He was a pistol. I heard him yelling at Helena the day before the party. She picked up the phone when it rang in his room. He'd walked back in and gotten so upset about it,” Yuri noted. She looked like she had more to say but didn't know where to begin.

  “Really? Did Helena know who was on the phone?” I asked, assuming that was the incident where George kicked her out of his room and told her not to come back again.

  “Nah, she was getting off work and her boyfriend, Cheney, was there. He looked real aggravated and said he wanted to teach that Braun dude a lesson.” Yuri grabbed her keys from the table at the side. “I'm about to head out. Need anything else?”

  I wasn't sure but wanted to find out what she might've overheard. “Did you see Cheney talk to George Braun?”

  “No, Helena persuaded Cheney to leave. I had other rooms to clean, but I did see George Braun the next day when he asked me for extra towels. I dropped them off and overheard him talking to someone,” she explained as we walked through the main lobby. “He'd been screaming at someone on the phone about not giving the money back and how sorry he was for the whole situation.”

  “Do you know who he was talking to?” I asked.

  “I think he used the word marriage.” Yuri pushed open the theater door to leave the building.

  If George was married, then maybe the wife was his next of kin. Not Ursula. I needed to find out if he was married and to whom. “Did you hear any names? Locations?”

  “Nah, he kept saying that he loved her, and it wasn't his fault. Then he hung up the phone and told me to get lost. Gave me five dollars and told me not to tell anyone about his call.” Yuri shrugged her shoulders and waved goodbye. “Gotta jet.”

  “Hold up. Then why'd you tell me?” I said, puzzled over what had happened.

  “If he'd given me twenty, I might have kept quiet. But five bucks doesn't even buy you a decent meal these days, professor. Plus, he was discourteous to us, so I figured he didn't deserve my silence.” Yuri shrugged her shoulders as if she hadn't felt any guilt about what she'd done.

  “Anything else you can remember? Other visitors?”

  “Ummm… oh, yeah, I forgot. Dean Mulligan from campus came by after the phone call. I was cleaning another room and saw George's door open. I thought it was super odd, but then I heard George talk about the upcoming flower science exhibit thingy. The dean was yelling just like he always does, ya know? Something about if it was important enough to keep the secret buried, it was important enough to get hold of the money.” Yuri indicated she hadn't heard anything else, then rushed off for an important dorm meeting.

  When I got back to my car, my brain went into overdrive. I'd gotten lucky tonight in finding out several new important facts about George Braun. I would tell the sheriff what I'd stumbled upon, but that could wait until the morning. I wanted to analyze what Yuri's news meant. Could George's wife have snuck into the library and killed him for some unknown reason? Was Dean Mulligan involved in some sort of blackmail scheme with George Braun?

  As I pulled out of the parking lot, the speed bump accidentally knocked my briefcase off the seat. When I leaned over to retrieve it, I saw an index card had fallen on the floor. I stopped the SUV on the side of the road, picked up the index card, and read the writing on the lined front side. It was an address I thought I'd recognized, so I checked my phone and realized it was one of the cabins near the Saddlebrooke National Forest. A bell went off in my head. I'd seen another index card just like it in the file Helena had found under George Braun's bed. This probably fell out of his folder when I pulled it out of my briefcase to deliver it to the sheriff.

  It must be the cabin George had purchased, and if memory served, the assistant he'd hired was staying there to finish some of the renovations. I looked at the time but needed to pick Emma up from school and finish preparing lesson plans. I decided to stop by the cabin after tomorrow's classes when I had more time. Three major leads in a row. Today was certainly improving!

  Chapter 11

  After dinner, I reviewed Emma's homework and was happily surprised she'd received an award for the best show-and-tell experience in class that week. Everyone loved her drawings of Danby Landing and the photos of the different buildings and crop fields. Nana D only kept a few horses and chickens around, but she was still faithfully planting tons of fruits and vegetables to bring in supplemental income. Although my grandpop had left her with a small inheritance and she'd sold a chunk of the farm to cover her expenses once she became a widow, the extra money came in handy throughout the year.

  “Can we read a bedtime story before Auntie Eleanor arrives?” Emma asked as I tucked her into bed. It was her turn to pick a book since I'd chosen 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe' the previous week. There was a rule in my house—you can't watch the film or television show until you've read the book, if one existed. She'd begged to watch the most recent adaptation, but I wouldn't budge as I knew what a treat it'd had been as a child when Nana D had read them to us.

  “You've got twenty minutes before she'll be here,” I noted while my daughter perused the shelves in her bedroom. That was another rule I'd made when Emma was born—electronic books are fair game, but you must always have more physical books than e-books. I wanted Emma to experience a multitude of technology at her fingertips from an early age, but she also needed to respect and cherish all that our country had accomplished in the history of bookmaking and printing.

  While Emma decided between an item on her classics shelf and a newly published fairy-tale ret
elling, I quickly surveyed the rest of our home to ensure it was ready for company. Nana D's guesthouse was a two-bedroom standalone ranch-style abode on the south corner of Danby Landing. The ten-minute walk to her cozy farmhouse just beyond the apple orchard gave us both the right amount of privacy and proximity. We'd fixed up the smaller bedroom for Emma with a fresh coat of paint and some unused furniture from the attic. All our stuff was back in Los Angeles in the house I'd left behind. I'd signed a one-year lease for a young couple who'd wanted to rent something furnished before buying their own place. It worked out well for me since I was technically bound to the LA television network who'd put my reality show, Dark Reality, on hiatus for one year while they revamped the entire program. I'd have to decide about returning early next year, pending my contract at Braxton.

  Eleanor texted that she craved a movie night as her way to regroup from the visit at the fertility clinic. Emma found me in the kitchen as I took two bowls from the cabinet in preparation for my sister's arrival. “Let's go, Daddy. I want you to read two chapters in this one,” my daughter said thrusting a copy of 'Charlotte's Web' in my hands.

  “Works for me, then you can decorate your room to match the farm Wilbur lives on.” I followed her into the bedroom where she climbed into her single platform bed, tossed bright purple covers over her body, and asked me to snuggle up next to her.

  Shortly after I began reading chapter two, Eleanor arrived and let herself in. She stood in the doorway watching Emma's eyes flutter open and shut as I continued to read. Eleanor approached us, kissed Emma's forehead, and scuttled off to the kitchen to scoop ice cream into the bowls I'd taken out. “Goodnight, Auntie Eleanor,” Emma said groggily as she turned on her side. After she fell asleep, I put the book on her nightstand and drew a picture of a piglet and a little girl named Emma on a piece of construction paper. I wrote 'Rise and shine, you're gonna have an oinky day!' She'd find it in the morning and start out the day with a laugh.