by K P Stafford
Baxter flapped his wings around, bringing my thoughts back to the moment. He flew up to the rail and pecked at my hand. I looked and saw something in his beak. I opened my hand as he dropped a button into my palm. "Thanks, Baxter," I said as I put the button in my pocket. I would add it to the many treasures he'd given me over the last several months. I had a collection of buttons, shiny gum wrappers, kid's toys, bottle caps and other stuff he'd gifted me. It was silly to keep all of those things, but it was kind of cool and amusing too. I'd often look at them and think how great it would be to be a bird and my only worry would be to collect bits of stuff people had discarded.
I kept them all because, well I wasn't sure why. Maybe I was afraid I'd hurt his feelings if I didn't keep the gifts he gave me. I patted his small head with my finger and returned to looking down at the ledge.
As I turned to walk away, I remembered my phone. Yesterday, when I climbed up this ledge and found the body, I was in shock, but I vaguely remembered taking a picture. I pulled my phone out. Surely, I didn't snap a picture of a dead guy. I checked my photo albums and found that I had. What were you thinking? That's so tacky, I told myself as I glanced at the picture. The coroner was right, his face was badly bruised. I looked closer and noticed a pattern in one of the bruises. Could it be from a ring? I couldn't tell on this small screen. I was sure Mr. Finche would notice something like that. Unless the morning sun had caused discoloration between the time I took the picture and they got the body to the coroner's office.
I told Baxter I was heading to the office. He chirped and flew off towards Grams' house.
Once I got to the office, I emailed the picture to myself so I could print it off. I thought it'd be good to have when I went to see Mr. Finche.
CHAPTER 5
The autopsy report stated that Will Hunter had died from blunt force trauma to the head. Mr. Finche acknowledged the strange bruising in the picture I showed him and agreed a ring probably caused it from someone punching him in the jaw. The odd thing was the injury that caused his death was on the back of the head, but as my picture showed and as Mr. Finche's own photos showed at the scene, Will was lying face down on the ledge. That means he had to be thrown over the railing. There was no bruising on his knuckles, so it's likely he knew his attacker and didn't have a chance to fight back before the fatal blow struck his head. Finche also found bruising between Will's fingers. If he was still alive as he fell and the fall finished him off, it was likely he hit a rock with his hand and some bruising occurred.
Once again, Cryptic Cove had a killer on the loose. The town's people were still talking about the last murders that took place here. This news would be another shocking blow to them. I knew as soon as the information was made public my phone would ring non-stop. People would call with their own suspect lists, point fingers, and the gossip would lead to at least a dozen versions of the story. Our lives would be total chaos again.
I took a copy of the autopsy report and the pictures back to the office. I knew John would want to see them and go over them with the sheriff. Just as I suspected, a few people saw me leaving the coroner's office with a file. By the time I reached the office, the phone calls started. In between fielding phone calls, we set up a whiteboard and a pin board in John's office. People only went in there on official business, so we knew it'd be safe from public view while we tried to piece things together.
A few of the callers reported they had seen Will fighting with Alice and Alan earlier in the evening. Alice isn't well-liked in this town, not as well as her brother and sister. She's not unfriendly, but she can be a bit of a drama queen, blowing things out of proportion. A few of the people believed it was a crime of passion. Those things were all over the TV shows these days. Poor little Alice could have snapped, some of them said. I thought it unlikely, but a few people had mentioned the argument between her and Will. I would have to question her at some point. I didn't look forward to it. According to Marcus Finche, he had unusually high amounts of some spices in his system. With Alice being a herbalist, I'd have to question her about that too. Was she trying to poison him and got tired of waiting?
I stopped by Spice & Thyme, the herbal shop ran by Alice and Annie Drake. Annie said Alice still wasn't ready to return to work, but that I could go to their home and speak with her there. It had only been 3 days since Will's death, so it was understandable she might not be ready to face the public just yet, but it could also mean she was playing the grieving girlfriend a little too long. Rumors were that they had been talking about marriage even though they'd only been dating a few months. Maybe they were deeply in love. They'd had a huge fight in public, though. I couldn't ignore that. Couples do fight and still love each other, but reports from onlookers indicated it was a pretty heated argument. Alice was known to be the jealous type. Could she be jealous enough to kill him? And who would she be jealous of? Will wasn't seeing anyone else unless it was in secret and Alice found out. I'd have to add that to my line of questions.
My job had been quite amusing the past few months. After everything settled down from the last murder in this small town, it had been relatively peaceful. The most John and I had dealt with were the occasional cat in a tree, property line disputes and who was cheating at bingo on Thursday nights. I dreaded having to ask questions about this. The town's people had gotten to know me better, but I didn't want to snoop around asking questions about someone killing the man. Many would be offended even if they understood it was my job. There was also still some tension between Alice and I. I never quite figured out what it was about. We were on speaking terms, but we'd never be best buddies or anything like that. The last time I questioned her, when the elderly couple was murdered, it was more of a research task into poisonous plants. This time, it would be a case of practically pointing a finger at her. I doubted she'd take it very well. It was something that had to be done, despite my not wanting to do it.
The Drake's owned a beautiful estate down in the valley from town. It had been in their family for years and was the perfect location for growing many of the herbs and plants they sold in their store. The housekeeper opened the large glass doors that led inside. The entrance was wide and led all the way to a set of French doors on the back side of the house. Each wall was lined with trees and plants of different varieties. It was almost like walking through a jungle. About half way to the back doors movement to my left caught my attention. I turned and came almost face to face with a large lizard. I let out a little yelp and grabbed my chest. The housekeeper turned to look at me. "I'm so sorry, I should have warned you. That's Artichoke. He belongs to Alan."
"Strange name for a lizard," I said trying to stifle a giggle.
"Alan has had him since he was a small boy. Back then it was a cute name."
"I didn't know he was into exotic animals."
The housekeeper had a look of displeasure, "The whole family is," she said as she waved her hand around in the air.
"Oh?" I wondered if I should keep my eyes out for a large snake that could squeeze me to death.
The lady opened the back door of the estate that opened to a large, pristine yard. She pointed to one area in the direction of Alice. "Thank you," I told her as I headed out across the plush grass.
Alice was sitting in a freestanding swing, curled up in a thin blanket. She barely noticed that I had walked up. She was usually well kept in her appearance, but her hair was a mess, her eyes were red from crying for days and she looked very pale. If this was all an act, she was taking it to the extreme. She finally looked at me as I sat down in one of the patio chairs. In her eyes, she had the look of a child who was frail and lost.
My heart sank seeing her in this condition. It made the questions I needed to ask even harder. I had no clue where to start or how to even open the conversation at this point. I started with the obvious, "Alice, I'm so sorry about Will."
She raised her eyes, "Thank you." Her voice was far away.
I took in a long breath trying to prepare myself for the i
nformation I needed from her. "Are you aware that his death has been ruled as intentional? It wasn't an accident."
Tears formed in her eyes, "Who would kill Will? The people here loved him." She looked down and fidgeted with her blanket before raising her eyes back to me, "They think I did it, don't they? That's why you're here."
I reached out and touched her hand, "I'm here to get answers, not to accuse you."
She pulled her hand back as something under the blanket moved, her reservations about me and why I was here being apparent. I removed my hand so I didn't disturb the pet she had in her lap and sat back in the chair. A small head popped out and startled me. It was the strangest looking dog, oh no, it was a tiny monkey. Alice had a marmoset cuddled up with her. The monkey came out and climbed all over the swing, quietly chattering to itself. I had to admit it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen.
I collected my thoughts to the last thing she'd said, about the reason I was here. It was times like this that made me hate my job. It wasn't even my job. I was supposed to be a secretary, not an investigator or an interrogator. I pulled my notebook out and flipped to my notes. The first items I had listed pertained to the spices found in Will's system. If I mentioned those first it would surely make Alice think I was there to accuse her. I had to start somewhere, "I hate to ask, but some people have reported that you and Will were fighting the night of the party."
Alice looked away, "It seems silly now, doesn't it?"
"What, that you were fighting?"
She turned back to look at me. "Yes. I was being jealous, over nothing. I've tried to get over my insecurities. Will had helped me so much, but I had a dumb moment and my old self came out before I could stop it."
I hated to pry into people's past lives, but I found myself intrigued and wanted to know more. The gossip bug had bitten me hard. I would never share this information with anyone except John unless it turned out to be a part of the case, but I had to know. "I didn't know you had insecurity issues. That must be hard to deal with."
Alice let out a slight chuckle, "Surely the whole town knows how insecure I am., but maybe that's why they all think I'm just a spoiled rotten brat. I don't mean to be rude, it just comes out that way because I feel so unsure of myself all the time."
What she said made sense. I'd never thought of her being insecure, but what I remembered from some of my psychology classes suggested that insecurity could come out in many forms. I also remembered that people could be rude for many reasons, not just because they were unhappy or didn't like other people. "Do you know why you feel that way?" I asked.
"Not really. I've just always thought of my brother and sister as being so perfect and there's no way I could ever match up to them. I don't give people a chance to like me because I don't believe they would even like me if I gave them the chance."
"It sounds like you've thought about this in depth and maybe read up on it."
"I didn't until Will came along. He noticed it by my behavior sometimes. We used to talk for hours about this stuff." She looked straight at me, "He liked the study of human behavior. I got mad at him when we first started dating because I thought he was using me as a case study or something." She picked at the blanket in her lap. "That's how insecure I am, I guess." She took in a long breath. "Over time, he convinced me that he really did care about me." Tears started to form in her eyes, "He even fell in love with me." Those last words caused the tears to stream down her face. I couldn't stand to see her in so much agony. I grabbed a tissue and sat down beside her on the swing. I didn't care if she didn't like me. She was in pain and needed someone to comfort her. I handed her the tissue. After a few minutes, she looked up at me. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess. Please find who did this. I will share any information I can that may help you. Ask me whatever questions you need."
Her resolve had changed in a heartbeat. I wasn't sure how to take it, but I decided to ask her about the substances found in Will's bloodstream and get this part of the questioning over with. Maybe she'd be forthcoming like she said.
The little monkey had been staring at me from the top of the swing Alice was seated on. As cute as it was, it was kind of creepy to be watched by a monkey. He came down one of the posts and then jumped to my lap. I squealed and threw my hands up, unsure what to do. I had gotten used to Baxter, but I wasn't sure about this little guy. He was also startled by my sounds and jerky movements. Alice patted the seat beside her. "Wolfman, be nice to our guest. Come over here and sit."
Wolfman? The name was actually quite befitting of him as he did look like a small wolfman. He complied and hopped over to the swing to sit beside Alice. She pulled out a peanut and handed it to him.
As I was watching Wolfman shell his treat, I heard the patio door slam from the house and whirled around to see Alan heading towards us. His pace was fast. The scowl across his face told me he was not happy to see me. He started speaking about half way across the yard, "What are you doing here, bothering my sister?"
I stood up, "Hello Alan." I extended my hand, but he ignored it. "I was offering my condolences to Alice on the death of Will."
He got in my face, "That's a lie and you know it. You're here because the constable sent you to question her." He pointed to Alice.
I turned to look at Alice, she was visibly distraught over the behavior of her brother. She opened her mouth, her bottom lip quivered but no words came out. I looked back at Alan, "It seems you're the one who's upset her. She had stopped crying while I was speaking to her."
"She's crying because she's still in mourning. I think you should leave. We don't need you around here reminding her of her misery."
I grabbed my things from the seat I had been sitting in and looked at Alice, "We'll talk again soon. Thank you for your time."
Alice nodded as Alan spoke up again, "You will not be talking to her again. Leave her alone."
"Have a nice day, Alan," I said as I headed towards the house. I've never seen him act so rude or defensive. He was always pleasant to be around. His protective, brotherly instincts had kicked into over-drive I assumed, but it was completely uncalled for where I was concerned. I made it to my car and cranked the engine. I rolled down the windows as I drove through the countryside heading back to town. Maybe listening to the wind blow would clear my mind. It didn't.
CHAPTER 6
The discussion with Alice was interesting, to say the least. I learned a few things about the herbal treatments she'd been giving Will, but what I found the most disturbing was how she spoke to me like we were friends. She wasn't her usual snippy-self. I don't know if it was an act. If so, it was a good one. I left the Drake estate with even more questions and some concerns about another matter unrelated to Will's death. On the way back to town I stopped at the park. I stood at the overlook. The yellow police tape was now gone but I could still see traces of fingerprint powder on the railing. I thought about how senseless this was as I stared down at the beach.
I knew there was nothing I could do by hanging out at the spot where Will had died so I headed to Peyton's on my way back to the office. Something Alice said had me concerned and since I wasn't ready to answer phone calls, I thought I'd go check on my best friend. I've been concerned about Mark being back in her life. The more I'm around him the moodier he tends to be. Apparently, I'm not the only one who's noticed. Alice said Will was concerned about it too. I thought I'd try to speak about the case with her, but I also wanted to question her to see if Will had mentioned his concerns to her. I would need to be subtle. The slightest hint of concerns about Mark tended to set her off these days.
I pulled up in her driveway, behind the main part of the B&B, and glanced down at my watch. Sometimes she was working at this hour and sometimes she was in her private living quarters on the top floor. I thought I'd try upstairs first. I entered the back entrance and hit the back stairs instead of using the elevator her parents had installed a few years back.
As I approached the door to Peyton's living quarters I heard arguing. I stood a
t the door and listened. I couldn't make out the words but it was definitely Mark. Crap, I was hoping he was still at work and I could talk to her alone. I stood up straight, sucked in a breath and knocked on the door. The arguing stopped. A minute later Peyton opened the door. I could tell by the look on her face she wasn't happy. She tried to force a smile but I could already tell my timing was horrible. Although I couldn't tell if she was mad from the argument she was having or mad that I was there. I thought I saw a hint of relief cross her face. She opened the door further and motioned for me to come on in. Mark was sitting on the couch like nothing had been happening. I hoped Peyton would invite me into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. No such luck. She sat on a chair and I sat on the sofa with Mark. He barely acknowledged I was there. I spoke to him. He had a smug grin on his face and nodded his head, but didn't speak. Peyton looked at me, finally, and asked, "What's up?"
I turned my attention to her. "I've been out to speak to Alice about Will's death."
Mark fidgeted before he got up and headed to the kitchen. I knew he wasn't fond of Will, but maybe he didn't like to talk about murder, or maybe he was just mad because I interrupted their argument.
"Did you find out anything?" Peyton asked as she glanced down at her watch. Her eyes were yearning to know, but her body language indicated she wanted to rush me. She wasn't fidgety, but I could see the tenseness in her neck and shoulders. It was very unlike her to not be concerned about the town's people, but especially when one was a personal friend of hers. She was normally more relaxed, even in times of bad news. This would not be an easy conversation and with Mark looming in the other room. I couldn't flat out ask her about anything. I couldn't stand this wedge that had been shoved between us. Not speaking to her openly caused me a great deal of anguish. I don't know why she couldn't see there was a problem and that things were not right in this situation. I needed to get to the bottom of a murder case, but I was personally more concerned about Peyton's life and keeping our friendship together. It seemed to slip away more and more each time I saw her. I looked at her and couldn't see that spark she used to have. Surely, she knew it too. She had to know she wasn't being herself these days. I wanted to tell her, but with Mark so close it wasn't a good time. He was always around these days.