Organized for Murder

by Ritter Ames

  Kate grabbed the spiral notepad she'd mentally labeled her "casebook." No need to add the "put you-know-what in a safer place" chore, though she still felt guilty about letting Meg assume the responsibility.

  "Darn it. I'm obsessing again." Another snap of the rubber band added to her weekly total, but it was still better than one would imagine under the circumstances. At least that was what Kate told herself as she took a couple of slow, deep breaths. Then she bit her lip and brainstormed on the blank lines.

  a. Go by Amelia's mansion—see if someone is living in and can tell me how to reach Mrs. B.

  b. Check with local employment services to see if Mrs. B signed on for a new position.

  Of course, the last would be unlikely. The murder had occurred too recently. And who's to say the family planned to terminate Mrs. Baxter at all? One of Amelia's children might employ her. Yes, a mansion visit offered the better option, but what could she use as a cover story? A condolence call? Given the circumstances, wouldn't it be more appropriate for Kate to make her condolences at the funeral home?

  Well, forget social convention, I need to know now.

  She pulled off her hoodie and detoured into the bedroom. Her peach-colored, light wool suit was perfect for a Vermont spring day; pastel for the season, but warmer than it looked. A quick trip by Hazelton Flowers, and Kate was soon wending her way up and around the mountainous country lane. Dazzling sunlight played peek-a-boo behind the dense tree line, and no neighbors' homes were visible as the van moved in and out of the wooded switchbacks toward the Nethercutt gates. Kate frowned as she realized how isolated the mansion was, hidden from outsiders by its surrounding stone walls and forests of near fully-leafed hardwoods and evergreen pines. She knew other people lived on this mountain, along the fringes of the Nethercutt property, but neighbors obviously guarded their privacy as much as Amelia and Daniel had.

  Kate set the hand brake and rolled her shoulders to relieve her stress, once more wishing she'd gotten something close to a full night's sleep. She stepped from the vehicle, potted gladioli in hand and words of sympathy running through her head. But she lost her train of thought when a man in a gray suit raced through the side yard and disappeared around the back of the mansion.

  Who was that, and why was he running? Had something else happened?

  She shoved the plant back onto the floorboard, and tore off in pursuit as fast as her beige pumps allowed. Rounding the corner of the house she almost collided with Gray Suit. A bit above six-foot, the middle-aged man stood arguing with Danny in front of a Deco-inspired greenhouse.

  "Don't disappear while I'm talking to you, young man," Gray Suit ordered. He and the teen traded laser-fueled looks.

  Danny's face flushed at Kate's sudden appearance. His arms were crossed tightly enough to meld together, but he wiggled a thumb in her direction. "Um, Dad, we have company."

  The man whirled, his surprise at seeing her was replaced a split-second later by a calm that bespoke years of practice.

  Danny made the introductions. "This is the lady Gramma hired to organize the place. Name's Kate something. I forget." He jerked his head in Gray Suit's direction and addressed Kate. "My father, William Nethercutt."

  Extending a manicured hand, Danny's father said, "Nice to meet you. Kate McKenzie, right? Mother spoke about hiring you. Call me Bill."

  Kate shook his hand. "Hello…Bill, I apologize for the intrusion. I just wanted to come by and say how sorry I am about Amelia. I have a plant…" She waved toward the front. "In my van."

  Bill smiled, but Kate didn't like the look in his eyes. Not cold, exactly, but definitely calculating. His voice, on the other hand, could only be described as too-immediately-friendly. "Very nice of you. I'll walk you around. We have cake and coffee inside. The neighbors have been…" Then turning to Danny, he finished instead with, "Come along, son. We'll continue our discussion later."

  They split up at the walk. Bill went to unlock the front door, and Danny followed Kate.

  "I appreciate the help, but I really can manage." She opened the sliding door.

  "No problem." The teen hefted the pot and grinned. "I've always been taught a Nethercutt man helps lovely ladies whenever he can."

  Ooh, a player today. Kate returned the smile. "Well, I do appreciate it. So, did your uncle give the MG a clean bill of health?"

  His expression fell. "Dad said, uh, I gotta wait for a while."

  "Oh, I am sorry. Is it because of your grandmother's death?"

  Relief flashed across the young man's face. "Yes. Yes, but things'll work out soon."

  "I'm sure they will." Kate placed a hand on his arm.

  His response was anything but grieving, and Kate figured he'd better forget any hope at a career in poker playing. Danny was clearly not mourning the loss of his grandmother. True, Amelia had been his step—grandmother, but given the fact she'd been in the family most of his life, and had gifted him a car, didn't that naturally presume some closeness between the two? On the other hand, it seemed as if he wasn't getting that car after all now. Something else to dig into.

  Danny moved ahead of her in a loose lope.

  The teen was cool and charming. Talking with the person he'd fingered to the police the night before didn't seem to prey at all on his conscience. Kate caught up to him again on the broad steps and added, "I'd like to offer my condolences to the cook, Mrs. Baxter, too. It must have been horrible for her yesterday. You don't happen to know where she lives, do you?"

  "Gatehouse." Danny used his free hand to point to a cottage near the east end of the property. "Gramma let her live there so she could walk to work. She can't drive."

  "But how did she get to and from the grocer's?"

  "Took a cab."

  Yes, Kate remembered Mrs. Baxter saying a cab was waiting before she'd left for her errands. The neat little gatehouse seemed perfect for a single woman. At least she had the impression Mrs. Baxter was widowed. Where had she gotten that idea?

  Kate turned back to Danny, as he added, "When she was ready to come home she called, and Gramma told Dad to go pick her up."

  So, Bill was definitely around at the time the body was found. It didn't prove he was onsite as the poison was administered, but he could have added the water to the teapot on his way back through the kitchen after receiving his chauffeuring orders.

  "Did your dad help check out the car with your Uncle Thomas yesterday?"

  Danny shrugged. "He wasn't much help. Tax attorneys aren't really comfortable around motor oil. Not like he was in any hurry to get back to me and Uncle Thomas, either."

  Warning bells sounded in Kate's head. "I'm sure he was helpful carrying in the groceries for Mrs. Baxter."

  Another shrug. "Mostly Uncle Thomas did. We hadn't realized how close to five it was, and I reminded Dad about meeting Mom for dinner. She and Gramma don't…didn't get along. Divorce didn't change anything. Mom always made it a practice to schedule something to screw things up whenever she knew Dad and I were coming here. Anyway, we unloaded the bags to the side porch, and Uncle Thomas took stuff into the kitchen. Mrs. B's screams kind of made everything come to a halt."

  "I can't imagine how horrible…"

  Danny twitched one shoulder, shrugging off the thought, and ushered her inside. The interior seemed much as Kate remembered, but not quite. She tried to decide on the difference and realized a lighted display case was missing from the foyer. "Wasn't a collection of porcelain here?"

  "Yeah, Aunt Sophia snatched that early this morning. She had two guys and a truck in the driveway at eight. Said it was Grandpop's, and he'd always promised it to her. Dad tried to argue with her, you know, wait 'til the will is read and all, but she didn't listen. Big surprise."

  "Danny…" Bill Nethercutt exited the kitchen, tray in hand. "Let's not rattle the family skeletons." He smiled at Kate. "I'm sure you know the way to the parlor."

  With an inward sigh, she headed back to the room of the damned.

  *

  Kate broke free
from the Nethercutt men as soon as niceties allowed. As her tires bounced over the cobblestone drive she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw the pantomime of their argument resume. Too bad there wasn't any way to overhear without being obvious. Both father and son required further investigation.

  The converted gatehouse sat nestled under tall hemlocks and could be a model for the grandmother's cottage in Little Red Riding Hood. At Kate's knock, Mrs. Baxter opened the door, her eyes huge and watery blue behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. It took a second for the plump woman to realize who Kate was, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, yes, you were the organizing lady at Miss Amelia's." Mrs. Baxter smiled and waved her into a seat, then left the room promising refreshment.

  Comfortable in an overstuffed chair, Kate glanced around the small cottage and imagined herself swaddled in a tea cozy. Chintz covered the furniture, and cat figurines posed on small shelves and across the narrow windowsills. It completely clashed with the streamlined kitchen work area at the Nethercutt mansion. She wondered about the incongruity but didn't have much time to think further as Mrs. Baxter bustled in carrying a tray of cups and a tall stainless steel carafe. A rich coffee aroma filled the crowded room.

  "I must apologize." Mrs. Baxter passed a sugar bowl and tongs. "Normally I would offer tea and scones, but…after…"

  Kate's words rushed, "No, I should be the one apologizing, showing up here today of all days." She set the sugar bowl next to her cup and saucer, and then wrapped Mrs. Baxter's hand in her own. "I had such a horrible ordeal with the police yesterday, I think I needed to find someone who could help make some sense of it all. But like you, tea is anathema to me. When I couldn't sleep last night, I chose warm milk for the exact same reason you brought coffee. Oh, I'm rambling. I should never have come."

  Mrs. Baxter used her free hand to pat Kate's. "Nonsense. You're entirely right to be here. How else to get to the bottom of this silliness? Hauling everyone into the station like common criminals! They fingerprinted me. Of course my fingerprints covered the house." The snowy head shook in indignation. Mrs. Baxter pulled free and took a tissue from her peacock-blue dress pocket.

  "I didn't mind the printing," Kate said, savoring the unusually nutty flavor of the coffee's rich blend. "Like you, however, I did feel uneasy having to defend myself. I had no motive to kill Amelia."

  The cook's mouth formed a straight line. "Isn't that the truth? Like the woman's heirs haven't been itching to grab their inheritances for years. And, of course, Sophia blamed Miss Amelia for Mr. Daniel's death."

  "What?"

  "Oh, yes." Mrs. Baxter added two sugar cubes to her own coffee and stirred. "For the past year, Mr. Daniel's heart condition had been worrying everyone. His poor doctor had a devil of a time trying to get his medicine stabilized. But Miss Amelia tired of our Vermont winter and decided it was imperative they go to Washington in time for the cherry blossoms and another few days to jaunt around Georgetown searching for new collectibles. Followed it all up with the silly homecoming party. Completely wore out the poor man's heart. He died the same night, as if…Well, I hate to mention anything that hints of gossip, but it was…" Mrs. Baxter motioned Kate closer, lowering her voice, "Almost as if Amelia had planned the whole thing as a kind of…a send-off."

  While Mrs. Baxter's hesitant speech and affected actions suggested discomfort at the revelation, Kate couldn't miss the light that gleamed deep in the woman's eyes. Mrs. Baxter's bitter words echoed the comment Amelia made the day she died about widowhood versus divorce. Had Amelia said it more than the one time? The words had come right after Mrs. Baxter's departure for the store, but had the cook actually left? It would have been easy for her to stay out of sight in the hall and overhear the conversation. Did she really know something about Mr. Daniel's death that threw a shadow of suspicion on the murdered woman? "Did the doctor tell them not to go?"

  "Not exactly." Mrs. Baxter took an exploratory sip of coffee. "But it's no secret whatever Miss Amelia wanted, Miss Amelia got."

  "Did anyone in her family resent her for being controlling?"

  "Resent her?" Mrs. Baxter laughed so hard she had to put down her cup. "They didn't resent her. They despised her."

  "Everyone?"

  "Except for Mr. Daniel." Mrs. Baxter took a ladyfinger from the cookie plate. "He adored Miss Amelia. Even after ten years of marriage, he wanted to do whatever made her happy. Infuriated his son and daughter. Would you like a cookie, dear? I made them fresh this morning."

  Kate accepted a melt-in-the-mouth butter cookie from the plate and planned her next question. "So, did you begin working for the Nethercutts once they returned to Hazelton?"

  "I've always worked for the Lane family. That's Miss Amelia's maiden name," she explained. A well-fed calico sauntered in, melding beautifully with the surroundings. "Ah, Lady Puss, you're gracing us with your presence, I see."

  "What a beautiful cat."

  "Yes, a gift from Miss Amelia." Mrs. Baxter leaned down to scratch the cat's chin. "Rescued from one of the backyard trees, and she didn't have the heart to call the animal shelter."

  "You've been a longtime friend, then?"

  "All my life, dear. My mother was the family cook. My father tended the automobiles. I was scullery maid, pastry assistant, and childhood friend, whichever was appropriate to the moment. Miss Amelia had to let everyone go after her parents died, what with her getting married and living abroad. But once she remarried this last time to Mr. Daniel, and returned to Hazelton, I was the first person she called."

  "Sounds like she thought a lot of you."

  "Of my talents, you mean." Mrs. Baxter gave a brisk nod. "Knew I learned beside my mother, and Miss Amelia always adored her cooking. We needed more help around the place, to dust and straighten everything, but Miss Amelia was tight regarding daily people. Only had a crew come in once a week."

  Here was a new angle. "When were they last in the house?"

  "The Friday after Mr. Daniel's funeral." Mrs. Baxter sighed. "A lovely service. The minister did Mr. Daniel right, though the Nethercutts' idea of church attendance was to do little more than send in the tithes they wrote off on their taxes at year-end. But, I never knew a man better than Mr. Daniel, and he deserved every fine word spoken over him."

  Okay, the cleaning people were out unless one of them had a key. Made a wax impression at some time? Was anything taken? She couldn't remember hearing anything like that in the police station, but Sophia said something the day they'd met. "Did the officers mention missing items when they interviewed you?"

  "I was traumatized over finding the body." Mrs. Baxter answered in non sequitur fashion, her drifting gaze showing a mind firmly elsewhere, across time and space to the previous day, standing once more in the deadly parlor. Kate shivered as she watched the age-spotted hands shake at the memory, and return the cup to its saucer.

  "I'm sorry—"

  "Such an agonized expression." Mrs. Baxter's eyes glossed over. Her right hand covered her own face at temple and cheek.

  Kate recognized the signs. Mrs. Baxter was revisiting a trauma to which the cook had never meant to return and now couldn't forget. She tried to switch the subject, but Mrs. Baxter blazed on, apparently past any diverting effort. Her need for exorcising the memory remained too great to easily overcome.

  "Miss Amelia had been in tremendous pain, clutching her middle. I'll forever associate the smell of vomit with the poor woman," Mrs. Baxter recounted. "Overpowering, I tell you. I grabbed Mr. Walker's arm. He was her attorney and just arrived for an appointment. If he hadn't helped me to a chair I think I would have fainted dead away. Oh!"

  Kate patted Mrs. Baxter's hand in sympathy. She remembered what the lieutenant had said the night before about the body's discovery. While she knew it was unreasonable and unfair, she wished the attorney had seen Amelia first and stopped this poor woman from stumbling onto the sight.

  Mrs. Baxter shook her head. "Mr. Walker took charge. We saw him ringing the front bell as Mr. William and I drove
up. But, of course, Miss Amelia never answered the door herself. I called from the car window, and he walked around the back to come in with Mr. Thomas and myself."

  "You mean Amelia's son," Kate clarified. "Why didn't he let the lawyer inside?"

  "Couldn't hear the door chimes out in the garage." Mrs. Baxter's gaze drifted out the window, toward the mansion, and her voice grew softer. "Mr. Walker made all the necessary phone calls. It seemed mere seconds before the police arrived, though likely much longer. Time's tricky like that. Thank goodness Mr. Walker hadn't given up and left. Everyone fell to pieces once Miss Amelia was discovered."

  Silence reigned for several seconds. The coffee had gone cold, and Kate gathered the cups and saucers, returning them to the tray. "It must have been devastating. I'm truly sorry."

  "We were close as children you know." Mrs. Baxter stared vacantly out the front bow window. "Gave me all her hand-me-down clothes and toys. Always thought of me first whenever she got something new."

  "She was a dear friend."

  Mrs. Baxter's head pivoted sharply, and her gaze bore into Kate's. "Most people don't realize that."

  Kate was at a loss, wondering where to lead the conversation. She thought of Danny. "I met Miss Amelia's grandson right before I left that day. He seemed to really like your cookies."

  With a snort, Mrs. Baxter topped off the cups with hot coffee from the carafe. "He just had the munchies."

  "Well, he is a teenage boy. I don't have one myself, but I'm told they eat like herds of horses and grow nonstop."

  "Oh, Danny's growing all right." Mrs. Baxter pursed her lips, like she would let go of a secret if the right question was asked.

  "I don't understand."

  "Danny's into plants and…things." Mrs. Baxter moved her lips, almost like a fish. "Things organic."

  "Yes, I noticed the greenhouse, and a lot of teens are into natural foods."