“I don’t think it. I know it. I was in the village for the festival. I came to make contact with you, but I’m sure I was followed. There was a black SUV that tailed me the entire way from Spokane. When I checked into the hotel, it was parked three spaces away.”
I wasn’t sure that translated into Marianne being followed. Hundreds of tourists flocked from Spokane and Seattle for the weekend. Highway traffic in both directions would back up for miles on Fridays when people came into town and again on Sundays on their way home.
“I had planned to find you this morning, but both times I bumped into you, I saw someone in the distance watching us.” She returned the photo to its spot without saying anything about Alex.
I turned on the gas stove and placed the teakettle over the open flames. The simple act of doing something normal helped bring my heart rate down. “And you think it’s Forest?”
“Yes. I can only imagine that your head must be spinning. This is a lot to dump on you.”
That was an understatement. In the last ten minutes, I’d learned that my mother had been murdered, and I’d been the only witness, and now her killer was potentially stalking me.
“It doesn’t add up,” I said to Marianne. “Isn’t there a statute of limitations on murder, and aren’t we well past it by now?”
“No. There’s no limitation on homicide in the state of Washington.” She spoke with authority.
That was news to me. So much for Mac’s police procedural shows versus real world knowledge.
Before I could ask Marianne more questions, a knock sounded on the front door.
Marianne grabbed my arm. “Wait, don’t answer it. It could be him.”
“Or it could be Chief Meyers.” I turned the burner to low as steam began to pour from the top of the kettle and went to the front.
“At least ask who’s there,” Marianne cautioned, the wild look returning to her eyes.
I used the peephole and saw Chief Meyers standing on the porch. “It’s okay. It’s her.” I unlocked the door to let the chief in.
“Evening, or is it morning?” the chief said. She was dressed in her standard khaki uniform with a brown tie and a gold star badge pinned to her chest. A walkie-talkie, flashlight, and holster were strapped to her belt. Chief Meyers was in her mid-fifties. Some people might have found her style abrupt, but I appreciated her direct approach. She had grown up in the village, which gave her a distinct advantage when it came to connections with locals and understanding the cyclical swings of our small town ballooning with tourists during festivals and holidays.
“I have no idea. Come in.” I showed her to the kitchen and introduced her to Marianne. She asked Marianne about a dozen questions before Marianne cut her off.
Marianne had poured herself a mug of tea. She clutched it with both hands. “Okay, look, I understand you have to follow procedure, but I need to know if you found the body.”
The chief frowned. “We did.”
“Any sign of a struggle? Evidence? You’re probably sweeping for prints now, right?”
“I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask questions.” The chief caught my eye.
“Sorry. Habit,” Marianne replied.
What did she mean by that? She was used to questioning people. Had Marianne been involved in law enforcement? Was she still? But then, why would she have mentioned being concerned that she might be arrested?
“Can you walk me through what happened tonight?” The chief pulled out a barstool and sat down. She took out a notebook and a pencil.
“Tea?” I pointed to the kettle. Tiny clouds of white steam puffed from the top of the vintage blue teakettle Ursula had given me as a housewarming gift.
“Thank you.” Chief Meyers gave me a nod.
I poured her a cup of the boiling water and handed her the container of tea bags.
She opted for a packet of peppermint and plunged it into her mug. “For starters, I’m going to need your personal information.”
Marianne hesitated. She stared at me for a moment before addressing Chief Meyers. “I’m Marianne DuPont, Sloan’s aunt.”
Meyers’s personality tended toward stoicism. But even she couldn’t hide her surprise. She coughed twice, then moved her eyes from Marianne to me, while her body remained rigid. “Your aunt?”
I shrugged.
“It’s complicated,” Marianne replied, still pacing, with the mug glued between her hands.
“Complicated is my middle name. I’m investigating a murder in town, so why don’t you go ahead and try me.” She tapped her notebook with the tip of her pencil.
Marianne twisted the string on her tea bag around her pinky. “Yeah, I guess you’ll have to be in the loop.”
The chief caught my eye. I mouthed, “Don’t ask me.”
Marianne proceeded to give Chief Meyers the same story she’d told me. The chief took notes, stopping her every so often for clarification.
“Can you give me a description of Forest?”
“I can do better than that. I can give you his entire police record. As long as the files are still there. I had the files in my hotel room, but the problem is that I’m sure he had other people watching us. Following us. He’s notorious for getting other people to do his dirty work. If the housekeeper is dead, it’s probably because he—or one of his henchmen—broke in to steal the files.”
“Okay.” Meyers sounded even more unsure than I felt. “Yet you mentioned that he was coming after Sloan.” She checked her notes to make sure she was repeating Marianne’s statement verbatim.
“Yes.” Marianne sounded irritated. “You don’t understand how dangerous he is and how much power he has. I know that I was followed. Whoever he’s hired as his henchmen, they were probably tasked to follow me and watch for me to make contact with Sloan. I would bet money on the fact that Forest told his guys to wait for him. He would want to end things with Sloan himself. He’s extremely dangerous.”
“Then why attempt to kill you?” Chief Meyers asked.
“They didn’t need me any longer. I brought them to Sloan.” She sloshed tea on the counter as she spoke. “That’s what Forest has been waiting for. I’m telling you, it’s his singular goal. This is my fault.”
The chief appeared skeptical. “What about Sara Wilder? How well did you know her?”
“Who? Is that the housekeeper’s name?” Marianne set her teacup on the counter.
Meyers nodded.
“Not at all. I’d never seen her until I set foot into my room tonight.”
“You didn’t have any interaction with her? No towels brought to your room? No passing her in the hallways?”
“No. Never,” Marianne insisted. “I’ve trained myself to keep vigilant watch. I study faces. I can tell you every detail you want to know about the front desk clerk who checked me in, the owner, who happened to be in the lobby when I arrived, or the groundskeeper, who was tending to the flower boxes outside, but I never saw the housekeeper.”
“Did you interact with anyone who can verify your whereabouts tonight?” Chief Meyers plunged her tea bag in her cup and studied Marianne.
“Wait, I know what’s happening,” Marianne wailed. “You think I did it. Why would I kill a housekeeper? I understand you have to do your job, but you have no idea what you’re up against here.”
“I don’t believe those words came out of my mouth.” The chief sipped her fragrant mint tea.
“You’re asking me for an alibi, though. I know what you’re hinting at. I know how this works.” Marianne stood taller. Her persona shifted. “The answer to your question is probably no. I tried to stay under the radar. I’m telling you that Sloan and the rest of your town are in danger. Forest will stop at nothing to make sure that she’s dead. Sara, that’s the housekeeper’s name? She should be the only proof you need to place Sloan under protective custody immediately. What about the room, did you find any files?”
Chief Meyers didn’t respond.
Marianne sighed. Her pinky had tur
ned purple from knotting the tea bag around it. “Arrest me. Do whatever you have to do, but you have to promise me you’ll watch over Sloan and her family. Forest won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way.”
The chief pursed her lips. “For the moment, I’d like to continue this conversation at the station.” She flipped her notebook shut and stood.
Marianne backed away.
“I’m not arresting you. I simply want to have a more detailed discussion at the station.”
“It’s not that. I’m not leaving Sloan until you can guarantee that she’ll be safe.”
The chief caught my eye. “I’ll put in a call to one of my officers to camp outside her door tonight if that will make you feel more comfortable.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” I started to say more, but Marianne cut me off.
“No. That’s good.” Marianne dumped her tea in the sink. “Sloan, don’t take this lightly. I can’t stress how much danger you’re in.”
Chief Meyers motioned to the door. “Shall we?”
“When’s the officer coming?” Marianne wasn’t budging. “I’ll go with you as soon as I see a uniform on Sloan’s front porch.”
Chief Meyers sighed, but made the call.
Marianne moved closer to me. She pressed something soft into my hand. “This is for you. A token from your first baby blanket that I’ve carried in my pocket since the day I had to leave you.” Her words were rushed. “Sloan, don’t trust anyone, and promise me you’ll stay inside.”
“It’s the middle of the night. Where would I go?” I stared at the swatch of plush fabric with fluffy faded bunnies and pastel hearts.
“I don’t know, but you’re not safe. I’ll try to be in touch as soon as they let me go, but in the meantime, lock every door and window. Close the shades and don’t talk to anyone. Don’t call anyone—he could be listening. Don’t pick up the phone until I come find you again. Not even to call your family. They’re in danger, too. If Forest and his guys find Alex or the Krauses first, they’ll end up like Sara.”
Her words sent a chill up my spine. Alex could be in danger?
CHAPTER
SIX
AS PROMISED, MARIANNE LEFT willingly with Chief Meyers once a police officer pulled into my driveway. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning. There was no chance I was going to be able to sleep, so I cleaned up the tea and curled up on the living room couch with a book. Reading was impossible. I couldn’t concentrate. I read the same paragraph over and over, and found myself running my fingers over the plush remains of my baby blanket. It didn’t trigger any new memories, but it did make me feel a sense of connection to Marianne. If she was telling the truth and had carried a swatch of fabric with her for all these years, it must have meant something.
But then again, I had to question whether Marianne was sane.
I couldn’t be sure one way or the other. Her story matched up with pieces of what Ursula had told me. She certainly seemed scared, but was that because there was a real threat, or was she in need of mental health support? She knew a lot about me. She knew Alex’s name. She knew about the Krauses. She knew about my past. How could she know that much if she was lying?
My thoughts turned to Alex. What if he was in danger? How could I protect him and the Krause family?
Had I really witnessed my mother’s murder? I tried to force any memory I could conjure from my early childhood to the forefront of my brain. Nothing was complete. Everything was like a flash, a shooting star darting across the sky. I remembered smells—apple orchards and Play-Doh. I remembered swirled chocolate-dipped soft-serve cones, and a bunny. Or was it a cat? I remembered a song about friendship—silver and gold. Sleeping in a tent with the sound of ocean waves crashing nearby.
I didn’t remember the name Claire. Or Marianne. Or DuPont. I didn’t remember my mother dying or seeing it occur.
One thing I did know from my therapy sessions with Sally was that our brains protected us from trauma. If there was any truth to what Marianne had told me, it could be that the cells in my brain had blocked out that memory as a survival strategy.
I wanted to talk to Sally. She was the only person who might be able to make sense of this. Marianne couldn’t be right about Forest listening in to my phone calls. She had to be completely paranoid.
I spent the next three hours trying to get comfortable on the couch. Finally sometime before the sun had risen, I gave up, tucked the old piece of fabric in my pocket, and made a pot of coffee. Maybe a strong dose of caffeine would bring me some clarity. I poured a cup for myself and looked through the cupboard for something to bake. I had a handful of bananas that were spotting with brown. I decided to make a batch of banana bread spiked with beer. I creamed butter and sugar together as I mashed the bananas and tried to make sense of Marianne’s claims. After adding eggs, a trio of spices, flour, and baking soda, I swapped the milk in the recipe for a cup of beer. It was a technique that Ursula had taught me many years ago. Beer is such a versatile ingredient to bake with and can be substituted for practically any liquid. The end result offers breads and pastries an elevated flavor and a zing of frothiness.
Once the banana beer bread had baked to golden perfection and cooled for a few minutes, I sliced a thick piece and poured another cup of coffee for the officer assigned to my porch, and brought them outside to him.
A pinkish light illuminated the top of the mountains as the stars made their retreat. The early morning air was cool and crisp, tinged with the floral scents of spring, and filled with birdsong.
“Thanks for staying on watch. Can I offer you a coffee and banana bread?” I handed him the cup and plate. “I’m Sloan, by the way. I know I’ve seen you around the village, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”
He took both. “I’m John. I’m fairly new. Came from Spokane a couple months ago.” He didn’t look that much older than Alex. His head was shaved in a buzz cut, and he wore a khaki uniform. I noticed that he kept one hand on his holster after he set the banana bread on the porch railing. “It’s no problem on night duty. It’s been quiet so far. I heard from the chief about twenty minutes ago. She should be by in the next hour.”
“Great. Can I get you anything else?”
“This is perfect. Thank you.” He gave me a nod, keeping his hand ready to pull out his weapon with a second’s notice.
I returned inside to get dressed. On a typical morning I would have taken a long walk through Blackbird Island and gotten an early start on breakfast for the guests at Nitro, but this wasn’t a typical morning.
While I waited for the chief to arrive, I went through my closet to find a dress for Kat, and one for me. I had no intention of wearing my dirndl to Nitro, but I could change before the parade. For Kat I decided on a pretty pale green dress with pink and white trim and a matching ruffled apron. It was youthful and flirty without being revealing. I opted for a classic red and white dress for myself with a black apron that Ursula had sewn with yellow, orange, and red flowers. It should be fitting for the parade, and it would appease April.
I studied my face in the mirror. My eyes looked sunken and red from lack of sleep. I splashed cold water on my face and massaged my cheeks with moisturizer, hoping to restore some of my natural color. I braided my long dark hair into two braids and twisted them together on the crown of my head. It wasn’t my normal look, but I knew that everyone in the village would embrace traditional Bavarian fashion for the parade. I folded the dresses in a bag along with a change of shoes and a pair of knee-high socks. Then I tugged on a pair of jeans and a thin, pale tangerine Nitro hoodie with our logo in gray. The color brought out some of my naturally tanned skin tone and made me feel like my face had a bit more life.
A knock sounded on the door as I finished getting dressed. “Sloan, it’s Meyers.”
I went to open it.
Chief Meyers looked like she’d been up all night, too. Her eyes were squinty, and her uniform wrinkled.
&nb
sp; “How are you? Do you need coffee?”
“I never turn down coffee.”
We went into the kitchen. Had it only been a few hours ago that we were in this same spot?
“Well, what do you think?” I asked, pouring her a cup of coffee and slicing her a piece of the banana bread without asking.
“That’s a good question. One that I’m not sure I can answer yet.” She gulped down the coffee, which was still scalding hot. Then she took a bite of the bread and let her eyes roll back in her head. “My God, Sloan, I don’t know how you do it, but your baking is out of this world. This is so good.” She took another big bite.
I wanted to shift the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?” I cradled my coffee in my hands, waiting for it to cool a little.
“We’re looking into it.” She paused to polish off the rest of the bread and then used her fingers to get the remaining crumbs. “You don’t know anything about her, correct?”
“Last night was the first night I ever met her. She showed up pounding on my front door.” Saying it aloud made it sound even more bizarre then it felt.
“She could be your aunt. She looks like you. Same bone structure. Same skin tone. You’ve had no connection with her prior to last night?”
“No.” I went on to explain what I had recently learned from Ursula about my past.
“That could line up.” She jotted down a note. “I’ll talk to the Krauses.”
“What if she’s right, though? What if we’re in danger?” I felt a tightness return to my chest.
“Sloan, Leavenworth is about the safest place you could possibly be.” She made eye contact with me. Her gaze was direct and firm. “Maifest crowds or not, it’s hard to hide here for long. We’ve got you covered. I’m not concerned about that.”
“Do you think she’s overreacting?”
“I didn’t say that.” She chose her words carefully. “I believe that she believes you’re in danger.”
The Cure For What Ales You Page 5