A Manor of Murder

by June Shaw

  My sister and I said nothing to each other while we waited for the elevator’s door to open and let us inside. While we rode down, we remained quiet, possible consequences of what we’d just experienced and heard running through my mind.

  When the door slid open on the bottom floor, things were quite different. There was a lot of motion and noise and the strong odor of cooked turnips making me believe the cafeteria prepared vegetable soup. Three of the cooks pushed carts with two levels that held trays with drinks and covered dishes that I imagined held soup and sandwiches, defrosted soup and sandwiches that were quick to prepare. Maybe they also held a slice of angel food cake that wouldn’t be too bad for diabetics.

  Uniformed police officers strode across the area where tables and chairs were set up. Each table was in place, all the chairs pushed against them, all signs of the earlier panicked departure of patrons gone. No one was visible behind the counter that shielded the nurse and administrators’ offices. Half a dozen guests walked toward the foyer to leave as instructed, one of them Emery Jackobson, who stood half a head taller than the rest. He must have still been visiting someone here.

  I checked the hall to the right that housed mainly men and nudged Eve to show her Detective Wilet coming out of someone’s room and then shutting the door. Her squinted eyes indicated she wanted to ask me about this. I gave my head the slightest shake to let her know I didn’t want to talk about it until we were outside away from the others.

  One officer with strands of gray in his brown hair stood right inside the main entrance. This was not one of the young recruits with pimpled foreheads. His dark eyes speared each of the people who walked out past him. Their piercing made a quiver run through my stomach, even if I had done nothing wrong.

  Outside the building, I sucked in a deep breath but kept walking. Although the sun had set, the evening seemed especially dark. I looked above and to the sides of the covered entrance and saw Eve doing the same. The bright lights that were usually lit there at night were not. Spotted filtered lighting came from inside bushes and around the doorway so that people might see to walk, but none of the vibrant lighting invited anyone inside. Would the officer stationed there turn any visitors away? I had the distinct feeling he would.

  Eve and I had arrived separately. Her car was parked farther away than my truck, so I gave her arm a quick tug to tell her to follow me. We waited until we sat inside my truck’s cab before we spoke. There were so many things to talk about concerning what was going on in there that I found it difficult to pick one.

  Eve blurted first. “Do you think they can keep people from visiting?”

  I did a quick roll of that question through my mind. “I don’t know why not. It’s a privately-owned business.”

  “They’re treating it almost like a crime scene.”

  Both of us quieted. She was right. That thought wasn’t pretty.

  I chose another one. “I believe the room Detective Wilet was coming out of just now belongs to Mom’s friend Mac.”

  She shrugged. “He was probably questioning lots of residents.”

  “But I’ll bet Mom got Mac on the phone the minute we left her room. I’ll bet she was talking to him when the detective got there. Or maybe Detective Wilet was already in his room when she called.” I gritted my teeth. The officer would have asked him who called. Mom didn’t need her name mentioned again so soon.

  Headlights of two cars leaving lit the darkened parking lot. Eve and I talked about what we had seen and heard and experienced while we were in the manor and how it all bothered us, mainly because Miss Clarice had gotten so ill, and some of our mother’s pills were missing.

  My phone rang, making my heart jump. Mom? I shoved my hand into my purse and pulled it out. Dave showed on the front. I recalled our last kiss, and my cheeks warmed. The phone rang again. I pressed the off button and dropped it back where it had been.

  “Who was it?” Eve asked.

  I gave my head a shake. “Someone I can call back later.”

  She eyed me and then my purse. Tension built inside me like hardening cement. I could imagine my sister reaching inside my purse and pulling my phone out to see where the last call came from. We had sometimes checked out each other’s possible fibs or things we tried to hide when we were younger. But we were so concerned now about our mother that she did not need to hear about a romantic entanglement between Dave and me.

  “Well then.” Her gaze drifted over my purse again while she let me know she was questioning who or what I might be hiding. She grabbed the door’s handle and opened it. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her small bag. “Oh, it’s Dave.” Face brightened with a smile, she got out of my truck and slammed the door. I watched her walk away toward her car, a new spring in her step.

  Dave had just phoned me, and now, before I had time to return his call and speak in private, he called my sister. What was that about?

  Instead of watching her to see if she’d laugh while she spoke to him, I pulled away from the parking lot.

  Streetlights appeared brighter than usual. Did it seem that way because of the dim lighting in front of the manor? I reached my house quickly and rushed inside, wanting to do something—but what? Jitters jumped around my stomach like a jackhammer slamming holes in the foundation beneath an old fishing camp. The image of a camp brought Dave to mind, but I did not want to think of him. Not while he was talking to my sister.

  I took my phone out of my purse and checked it to see if he had called back and I’d somehow missed the call. He had not.

  Setting the phone on the kitchen table, I grabbed a legal pad and pen. I stood at my kitchen counter and jotted quick notes about what happened—things I heard at the manor, what I had seen. I came up with fast questions concerning the whole experience. Shoulders and back tight, I left the list. Mom would be fine.

  A small growl from my stomach let me know I’d missed supper. I threw together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and downed it with milk.

  Still antsy, I forced myself not to check the phone again. Not for Dave’s call, not for one from Mom. I needed to move, to do something. I was grabbing the vacuum cleaner from the small closet where I kept it when I thought better of that idea. If the phone rang, I might not be able to hear it if I was vacuuming. I could set my phone in my pocket and have it vibrate, but with the motion and noise of the vacuum, I decided not to take a chance.

  Instead, I grabbed my feather duster and pulled out the broom and dustpan. I had used all of them and the wet mop and other cleaners within the last four days. Nothing said I couldn’t use them all again now.

  I was wiggling my duster down along the leg of one of my dining room chairs when my phone rang. Mom? I dashed to the kitchen.

  Dave showed on the top of my phone.

  “Hello,” I said, breathless.

  “Can I come over?”

  “Yes!”

  The phone went dead. I threw all my cleaning supplies back in their closet, much more eager than usual to have a visit from him.

  Chapter 21

  The second I opened my front door, I knew he had heard. Dave’s eyes were tight, his face concerned. He stepped inside and opened his arms. I leaned into them, my head against his wide chest. Words raised themselves and tried to pop out of my mouth—to tell him, to ask him—but I made them stay inside. I needed comfort now.

  We stood inside my front entry, and he held me. At some point, I realized he had used his foot to quietly shut the door. I didn’t care. I wanted only to experience peace, to feel like we would be safe. Mainly, my mother needed safety, I considered. That’s when I finally pulled back from him.

  “Something happened at the manor,” I said.

  He was nodding. “I know.”

  Awareness hit. “Eve told you. I saw that you had called me, but I di
dn’t answer because she was with me inside my truck.” I was sucking in a breath to say a whole lot more.

  “Yes, she told me that.”

  “Why did you call her right after you called me?”

  “Let’s talk.” He took my hand and led me to my den. Leaving the overhead lights off, he lit only one small lamp. Dave put his hand out toward the sofa, so I sat. He settled himself down next to me. “I had heard about what happened at the manor. I was worried and tried to call you. When I couldn’t get you, I contacted Eve to learn how things were with your mother.”

  “Our mother?” Tightness returned to my stomach. “She’s all right. I’m sure Eve told you that.”

  “She did. She told me a lot of things I was going to ask you about concerning your mother and the other incidents there.”

  “I guess I don’t have anything else to tell you about it.”

  “Except how you feel.” He stretched his arm out along the back of the sofa and rubbed my shoulder nearest him, a soft soothing motion.

  “I feel great with you being here. And knowing you care.”

  “Of course I care about you and your mother. And your sister. Would you like for me to hold you?”

  “Absolutely.” I scooted my hips farther on the seat until I was against him. Dave wrapped both arms around me. I nestled my head into the space where his arm met his chest. The experience was what a content baby must feel like in a cradle. I stayed there, thoughts coming up or questions about what he thought, but still I kept quiet in my comforting space. Answers would come, probably not from him. For now, his arms were strong, his chest my refuge.

  I had no idea I had fallen asleep until a light snore awoke me. I lifted my head and realized I had released it. “I’m sorry.” I pulled myself out of the cocoon of him where I’d snugged. A small lamp provided only a spot of light in the otherwise dark room.

  Dave gave me a small laugh. “It’s no problem. You were worn out. You needed to get some rest.”

  “And you provided me with a good pillow.” I smiled with him.

  He tilted the top of my head toward him and placed a light kiss there. “Let me know anytime you need one.”

  More awareness of the late hour came. “Let me get you something to eat or drink.”

  “No, you need to get to bed.” He reached his arms straight out to the sides and stretched. “Maybe I do, too.”

  He let me go ahead out of my den and then clicked off the lamp behind me. By the time we stepped into the foyer, my mind was working clearer. “Wait, why did you call me and Eve tonight? How did you know about what happened at the manor?”

  “People have heard about it. Word gets around here pretty fast.”

  “Where did you heard about it?”

  “We were installing security cameras at a house in a neighborhood where there have been a few car break-ins.” He didn’t mention the neighborhood, but I knew where he was speaking about. The newspaper had reported those incidents. “My customer told us about it. His mother lives at the manor. He got a call from her.”

  And my mother didn’t call me. I glanced at the wall clock. It was too late to phone her to learn whether anything else had taken place.

  Dave moved in close. He placed his hands on both sides of my waist, his touch sending a shot of warmth through me. “But I don’t believe you have to worry. Things will take care of themselves over there.” He cocked his head. “I really think the lady they sent to the hospital will get better.”

  “But we heard she’s gotten worse.”

  “I’m not a medical expert, but I know some illnesses tend to get worse before they improve. That happened to my aunt. We were all afraid she might die, but after two weeks in ICU, she made a turn-around and improved.” He smiled. “She’s back to baking the best cherry pies you ever want to eat.”

  “Yum. I’d like to try one.”

  “Then you’ll have to come to Connecticut with me when I go back there.”

  I laughed. “That’s a deal.”

  “And I froze the catfish your line caught after you left it. You’ll need to come back to the camp so we can eat that.”

  “We’ll do it soon.”

  All humor left his face. Dave peered into my eyes. “Sunny, you’re really important to me. I want to spend more time with you, a lot more time.”

  I inhaled. Exhaled. “I want to be closer to you, too. Just right now let us get these things straightened out with my mother.”

  He gave a slow nod. “With her wanting to get married.”

  “Yes, to a stranger.” I sucked in a deep breath. “And now this, the situation at the manor.” A sudden idea struck. “You know if things don’t get any better with what’s going on with her over there, I might need to get her to move in with me.”

  He watched me without saying a thing. I couldn’t tell how he felt about what I’d said. Both of his parents had died years before. Was he concerned about our situation—his and mine—that if my mother came to live with me things between him and me might become strained? If she lived here, possibly all romantic involvement between us may need to be behind closed doors? And how would he feel about that?

  His hands came off my waist. “Hadn’t you and Eve each invited her to move in with you when she started to need more assistance because of her arthritis?”

  “We did. But now things are different.”

  He quirked a brow. “In what way?”

  I didn’t want a grilling from him. “Things are strange at the manor right now with police questioning residents. I hope the sick lady gets much better soon. But then there’s that other thing.”

  He watched as though waiting for me to go on. I chose to stop. Dave offered a slow nod. “You don’t want your mother to marry the man.”

  Ready to argue with him, I said, “Her mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be.”

  “Oh.” A crease folded in skin between his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “She’s taking her medicine more often than she’s supposed to.”

  “A nurse doesn’t make sure she’s taking the right thing?”

  “No, the manor isn’t a nursing home where they do that. Residents are responsible for any medication they take.” I rolled my shoulders. “But it’s okay.” I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Thanks for coming over. I’ll let you know what goes on.”

  “Please do.”

  After he walked out, I locked the door behind him and then pressed my back against the wall. Why had I told him that? I was never one to lie and didn’t want to start now, especially to Dave, but why had I told him my mother was losing some of her mental capacities? Was it true?

  She hadn’t known some of her pills were missing. Had she begun taking more of them than she should have? Worry skittered around my back in a squiggly move like a worm made when I tried to pull it from the mud in a bait box. What if she sometimes took a pill before she ate her lunch but then forgot by the time she finished her meal and took another one right afterward?

  Was our mother really developing dementia?

  My whole body went stiff. The backs of my eyes warmed. What kind of care might Mom require? I had plenty enough room to bring her to live here. So did my sister. And while we worked on a job, one of us could stay back with her. Or would we hire a sitter?

  My stomach jerked tight at the thought of losing the kind and intelligent mother we had always known. If more food had been in my stomach, I could have thrown up. The thought about that brought back the image of Miss Clarice seated at Mom’s table, bending over the table, getting extremely sick.

  I needed to check on her condition in the morning. Heading for bed, I knew I would barely sleep, but instead would toss around while I worried about my mother who I had to painfully admit was moving further into those senior years. I would be at the manor to see about her in the morning.

  C
hapter 22

  When I opened my eyes and found slanted rays of sunshine forcing themselves through my bedroom curtains, my first thought was unspent words: Dave, yesterday did you tell Eve you had called me before calling her?

  “Ridiculous,” I said and threw off the covers. Was I reverting to childish jealousy? I had much more important things to see about this morning. Our mother. I grabbed coffee in my kitchen, and because I’d often get weak if I didn’t eat soon, I took a minute to fix buttered grits in the microwave. With both hot, I remained standing with my food and drink on the counter. I took a swallow of coffee and a spoonful of grits, checking the local headlines on my phone.

  The grits caught in a ball in my throat. Before I could stop coughing, I reread the opening of the lead story to make certain I had read right.

  Large print above a long shot of Sugar Ledge Manor said what I already knew—“Local retirement facility closes during investigation.” But right below that, the article stated Police officers secured a retirement home located on the 500 block of Sugar Cane Street while they checked into the death of one of its residents.

  My breaths stopped. Death? The poor woman had died.

  Tears rimmed my eyes while I tried to read more of the words that blurred. My phone rang, and I answered, fearing for Mom.

  “Did you see the paper?” Eve said.

  I swallowed the tears that were blocking my throat. “Yes, I’m just reading it now.”

  “Let’s go see about Mom.”

  “I’m ready.” A second thought made me glance down. I was wearing a lavender nightshirt. “I’ll be ready by the time you get here.”

  “Okay. I’m coming over.”

  With another swallow of grits, I carried my coffee mug to my bedroom and threw on slacks and a shirt. It was good that I took time to brush my teeth, since that made me glance in the mirror. I wouldn’t take time to use the little natural-toned makeup I normally used when I went out. My hair, though, would have frightened someone with it sticking straight out on the right as it did while most strands of my wavy hair lay flat on the left. I pulled a brush through it on the right side so it fairly matched.