“Arthritis. Yes. That’s what I have,” she said flexing her hands for effect. “Can you prescribe drugs? Painkillers?”
“I’m fully qualified,” said Gwyneth, which Dot thought was odd. She hadn’t been challenged and the guarded response seemed a little out of place. “So if I think you need something I can give you it.”
“You have the drugs yourself?”
“I have everything I need right here.” Dot followed the Welsh woman’s eyes to a box under a desk.
“A regular little pharmacy. Is that the arrangement you have with Minerva?”
“Mrs. Donnington? Why yes, I do,” said the nurse suspecting something now, Dot could tell. She’d have to back off on the probing questions. “If you’re looking for an easy way to get painkillers I’m not your woman, let that be known.”
The ‘character’ that Dot was playing, an inquisitive, health conscious woman old before her years, probably was just looking for a quick fix of over-the-counter drugs to keep her going. In reality, Dot had touched nothing stronger than Earl Grey in her life.
“I have money you know,” said Dot abruptly. “I’m willing to pay what is necessary.”
“Well that’s not really the issue. I’ll tell you what,” said Gwyneth, “How about you come back for a consultation? I can do a medical check, review your history and then we can move forward from there.”
Dot nodded softly as if ruminating over something. Her mind was blank, desperately searching for a way out without having to commit to anything.
“Are you okay, dear? You went blank for a second there. Does this happen often?”
“I was just thinking about last night. Everything’s all right with you and Mrs. Donnington, isn’t it? I overheard you having a few words with her.”
The nurse was puzzled, though not suspicious yet. Dot was afraid that she’d been too forward with her investigation. Hardly worthy of Cassandra. It was thrilling; trying to get answers from people who didn’t know they were being squeezed for information.
“Oh that- just a little misunderstanding. You know how, erm…” Gwyneth searched for the right word, “confrontational Mrs. Donnington can be.”
“Tell me about it. She pushed me into a pool once.” The incident had stuck with Dorothy for more than fifty years and she would not let it go. Gwyneth cracked an odd smile, humoring the woman who’d showed up on her doorstep unannounced, but she couldn’t hide her bewilderment.
Dot stretched and yawned.
“Are you well, Mrs.-?”
“McGuiness. Like the drink with a ‘Mc’ on the front. Scottish and Irish together I guess. No Welsh though, but I wouldn’t know what that was so… I’m just tired really - oh is that my phone?”
It wasn’t. There had been no sound whatsoever. Gwyneth cocked her head in confusion as Dot searched her pockets then retrieved her handset. She glanced at the screen and answered so that the nurse couldn’t tell there was no caller.
“Hello Cass,” she said, placing the phone to her ear. “I’m out of town at the moment - what’s that you say, something terrible has happened?” Dot looked up to Gwyneth to gauge her response and to see if she was paying attention. “I understand. Do you want me there right away? I’ll be there in ten, hon, okay? You be strong.”
She ended the call, such as it was, then cast her gaze slowly and deliberately to the nurse. She hoped she was displaying the correct amount of discombobulated horror.
“It’s Mrs. Donnington, she’s dead.” Dot did not suspect Gwyneth in the slightest, but was intrigued what her response would be.
“No, she can’t be. I saw her last night…” Gwyneth trailed off. Dot thought to shake the woman, just a little, to get her back in the room and was about to do so when she suddenly, pounced into action.
“I’m very sorry- Dorothy, was it? We’ll have to talk some other time. If it’s true, I must go see Bella immediately and make sure she’s all right.”
“I understand. It’s quite a shock. Do you drive? I’ve brought my car and I could take you.”
“I’ll be fine, my darlin’. You’d better head off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She let out a high whine and slapped her cheeks. “I can’t believe that it’s true.”
“It’s certainly quite a shock. Such a lovely, kind and caring woman.”
Dot scoured the woman’s features for a response, just a hint she knew that Minerva Donnington was none of those things. Either the lady from Wales was in too much shock or believed that Minerva was a decent person because she didn’t react other than to fish her car keys from her purse.
She apologized once more and they rescheduled an appointment that Dot would have to cancel. Together they left the building and went to their respective cars. Somewhere out on Highway 6, Dot lost sight of the other vehicle. She’d been hoping to get back to Havenholm first so she could rapidly explain the fabricated story to Cassy and get her to play along, but her car was not up to the task.
“I oughta scrap you, damn thing,” she said to the blinking light on the dashboard. It had been doing that for the last two days and Dot did not understand why.
From across the street, comfortably ensconced in a window booth at ‘Coffee & More’, Cassy watched the Nether Edge building and her own still-closed Spicery. She hadn’t let the emotions of the morning get to her until then, in that moment of quiet. She’d ordered a pastry and a bottle of water. Both lay untouched in front of her. Her hand trembled against the table, the only outward sign of her inner disquiet. She could only imagine what Bella must be going through and what lay ahead for her.
Just as she was formulating plans to visit Bella, Cassy spotted a car pulling up to the Spicery. Usually this wouldn’t be worth noting except that from the back of the car stepped the young man that had caught Bella’s eye at the barbecue. He was a gangly thing, but muscular so he didn’t appear like a beanstalk. His clothes were ill-fitting by design and Cassy had to confess that she saw in him what attracted Bella. The kid waved to the driver, presumably his mother, before she left. Until then, there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was only when the boy looked up to the windows of the flats above the row of storefronts, specifically the third one —the Donnington window—that Cassy leaned forward. Who was this kid? At the barbecue Cassy hadn’t gotten the impression that Bella had known him, rather that she’d admired him from afar.
Cassy left payment on the table then darted outside to pursue the boy. He was no longer on the street, but Cassy had seen him go the side entrance leading to the courtyard inside. From there she watched him take the stairs two at a time; the same ones the mystery figure had fled down hours earlier.
From a discrete distance, Cassy went after him, even though she lived there and didn’t need an excuse to be there, unlike her query.
She caught up with him on the first floor and spied on him. The kid walked to the Donnington apartment as if he would knock on the door, despite the obvious police tape. His hand paused, raised to the height of his chest, then fell to his side as if he’d given up. From her semi-hiding place, Cassy watched as the boy stood still for a moment.
“Are you okay?” she asked. She wasn’t one for subterfuge and didn’t want to explain herself, had he turned and found her crouched behind a wall. She strode up to him and he backed away. For the first time, Cassy got a good look at him. He was a young thing who would become handsome in time. His eyes were ringed red as if he’d hadn’t slept.
“Sorry - I thought she might be back,” he said, his voice faltering.
“Bella? No, she’s not here,” said Cassy. “Who are you? Do you know her?”
“Yeah, I do. She’s kinda my-” He stopped talking abruptly.
“Girlfriend?” The boy nodded, then turned away sheepishly. You sly little girl, thought Cassy. Before she pondered how such a relationship would be possible, she had to get answers from him. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Joe. Joe Smith.” He backed off as Cassy advanced. She couldn’t be called threatening, but the
kid looked scared. Guilty even. Before she lost him altogether, she Cassy must stepped up the impromptu interrogation.
“When did you last see Mrs. Donnington alive?”
“Alive? Like do you mean she’s dead?” Joe sounded genuinely surprised. If he was lying he was doing a very good job. She pressed on, regardless.
“Well?”
“Last night. Just like you. We were all there.”
“So why come back now? You say you’re not aware that she was killed?”
“Killed?” he sputtered. He was doing an excellent job. “Are you the cops? You don’t look like the cops.” It was probably the faded paisley dress that gave it away. “I don’t know anything about this, lady. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. I just came here to get my stuff. Don’t know anything about whatever you’re talking about.” He stammered to a standstill, then refocused. “Was anything stolen?”
This was interesting. “From the apartment? Like what?”
“I mean was it robbery?”
“A burglary- they’re different crimes but that’s not important. It was a murder.”
“Where’s Bella? Is she okay?”
“She was taken to the sheriff’s office, but I guess they’ve found somewhere for her to stay by now. They’re a good bunch of guys down there.”
“And they’ll tell me where she is?” he asked impatiently. Cassy was impressed how the exchange had switched. He was the one asking all the questions now.
“Yeah, I dunno.” She fumbled with the top button of her dress, flustered. “I— Look I saw you last night- lurking around here. You saw me and ran. Don’t tell me you weren’t here. I know it was you.”
He didn’t flinch. Cassy hoped that he might involuntarily give something away but his perfect porcelain face was devoid of expression. Oh, to be so youthful and perfect.
“Why wouldn’t I be here? My girlfriend lives here.”
“Nothing you saw put up any red flags?”
Red flags? What was she the FBI? Cassy remained stern for maximum effect.
“Red flags?” sputtered Joe. “All I saw was a woman standing over there.” He pointed behind him to the door criss-crossed with police tape. “I thought it was her mother, okay?”
“Is she the kind of person you run from? Seriously.”
“When it comes to Bell she can be quite strict. I mean she was strict.” He blinked his eyes rapidly, the news of his girlfriend’s mother’s death catching up with him. “I don’t think she would have approved of me and Bella.”
“Have you spoken to the police?” The kid seemed genuine enough, but something about him didn’t sit right with Cassy. He couldn’t have been the first boyfriend to sneak out to see his girl in the middle of the night, but the whole situation just didn’t add up for now.
“I’m going to go there right now,” he said confidently, almost defiantly as if to challenge Cassy. He wanted her to know that he was beyond reproach.
“I think you should,” said Cassy, softening her voice. “Make sure you find Bella. She needs you now more than ever.”
He smiled, but said nothing before turning away from Cassy and descending the stairs. Cassy waited long enough so he wouldn’t think he was being followed, then trotted after him.
He was a fast walker and Cassy had to jog to keep up with him. He exited the courtyard and turned right along Main Street, which was curiously in the opposite direction of the sheriff’s station. Cassy paused at the archway that led out from the Nether Edge block, only breaking cover when she was sure that she wouldn’t be spotted, or could reasonably assert that she was going about her daily business should she be seen. But before she could tail the kid any farther, a car screeched to a halt in front of her. In a bluster of flapping limbs, cheeks reddened by furious panting, Bella’s care-giver—Gwyneth, Cassy recalled was her name—sprung from the vehicle.
On seeing Cassy, Gwyneth made a beeline for her.
“Have you heard, have you heard?” she repeated like a mantra.
Cassy could only guess what had gotten the nurse into this state, but she assumed Dot had something to do with it. In this emotional state the woman’s accent grew thicker. Almost impenetrably so to Cassy’s ears.
“I can’t believe I was here yesterday. Oh my goodness whatever happened?”
“We still don’t know,” said Cassy with one eye checking down the street, but Joe was nowhere to be seen.
“Foul play?” The words curled off Gwyneth’s tongue like they were doing somersaults. Why she would assume something nefarious had happened didn’t go unnoticed by Cassy. She nodded solemnly.
“She was found at home,” Cassy said, not wanting to give away too many specifics. The police hadn’t informed Gwyneth of her employer’s death just yet, perhaps for a reason. “She was bludgeoned to death.”
Bludgeoned. A distressing word Cassy regretted using.
“This is too terrible,” she said edging past Cassy. “Do you think I could get into the apartment?”
“What for?”
“I don’t know. Just to see. They were very close to me, that family.”
“It’s all taped up.”
The one-time nurse shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Clearly there was something in there she needed to retrieve.
“Taped up…” said Gwyneth pensively. “For the investigation.” This seemed to appease her and she relaxed. “Why would anybody do that? Bludgeoned you say?”
Cassy lay a hand on Gwyneth’s shoulder to comfort her. “I don’t think she suffered, if that’s any consolation.”
Gwyneth fell silently introspective for a second. When she spoke again it was in a much calmer voice. “Do you know where the poor girl is now?”
“I have no—” Cassy’s phone vibrated in her breast pocket. She raised a hand to hold Gwyneth’s attention just awhile longer.
“Cass—can you come to the Medical Center as soon as possible,” said the tinny voice on the end of the line. “She’s asking for you by name.”
“Bella? Why of course. What do you mean? Is there a problem?” Cassy looked to Gwyneth who leaned in inquisitively.
“Bloom can tell you better than I can, but she’s in a bad way and well she needs someone she can trust. Just to be with her. That apparently is you.”
“But I’m not—” Cassy stopped, took a breath then reconsidered. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
Deputy Jones couldn’t give much more information but judging by his voice all was not well.
“Can you drive me to the Medical Center?” Cassy asked Gwyneth.
“It’s Bella, isn’t it?” She looked toward the courtyard, and perhaps beyond to the Donnington apartment. It was just the briefest glance but it spoke volumes. There was something in the apartment the nurse wanted. Could it possibly be the same thing that the young Mr. Smith was looking for? “We’d better get going then.”
Chapter Six
The following day Cassy woke up on the couch confused, then slowly her thoughts cohered and she remembered that Bella had taken the bed. Always more concerned with his own personal comfort than any sense of loyalty, Herzog the cat had stayed in the bedroom too rather than sleep alongside Cassy on the couch.
He sauntered in casually, stretched, looked Cassy up and down a single time as if to say ‘Oh are you still here’ then sat on the sill of the window. Light streamed in all around him making his fur glow at the very tips.
“Looking good this morning, Herzog,” said Cassy as she stood up and stretched much the same way the feline had.
“I half expected him to answer,” came a soft but croaky voice to Cassy’s right. Bella looked refreshed after a decent night’s sleep in something other than a hospital bed. She clung to the door frame to support her weak legs and Cassy realized they hadn’t gotten the wheelchair. It had no doubt been gathered as evidence and was locked up somewhere at the station.
“Oh, he answers back all right, but never when I compliment him. He assum
es that he looks good and only responds when slighted. He’s a sensitive little soul.”
Herzog ignored the discussion behind his back and continued to look out of the window to the street below.
“Breakfast?”
“Please.”
“Eggs?”
“That would be great. Do you have bacon?”
“I can get some.”
“Cassy?”
“Yes?”
Bella paused then looked away. “Do you think I could go to my house later?”
“Why? I mean it’s still all taped up.”
“I need to go back. Just to see, you know.”
“You can’t cross police tape, Bella.”
Cassy wanted to do all she could for Bella, but somethings were impossible. Revisiting the scene of such a traumatic experience could sometimes be beneficial, allowing survivors to get a better perspective. Bella was strong enough mentally to go back to the apartment, but even in her most reckless flights of fancy, Cassy would never cross police tape.
“I’ll tell you what. We’ll open the door and look inside without actually going in. That way we’re not really breaking any laws. Sound good?”
Bella nodded then ambled forward holding onto anything she could as she advanced, much like a climber navigating a treacherous ascent up Everest. Her legs buckled eventually but not before she’d safely made it to the couch.
“What do you remember about last night?” Cassy asked casually, as if talking about something other than the death of Bella’s mother.
Bella thought hard. “I don’t really remember all that much. He just seemed to come from nowhere—or rather from the bedroom. A big guy, I guess. All I remember seeing was that he was big, as if size was the most important thing, and not, you know, what he was wearing or what his face looked like.”
“Did you see his face?”
“I guess I must have, but I don’t remember. I just remember trying to get away and falling. It seemed like forever to drag myself all the way here.”
Where Pigs Fly (Nether Edge Cozy Witch Mystery Book 2) Page 4