“What’s Olivia’s interest in that house?”
Again, Celia shook her head. “I’m not sure she’s interested anymore.”
“She bought it.”
“That was before the body was exhumed. If anything, Olivia wanted that ring.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think she even knows. But she’s been investigating the urban legend as a pet project for years. The emerald ring kept coming up as a critical piece to the story. I think she just wanted to get her hands on it in order to find out why. But when you dug up Doris and the ring was taken into evidence, she had no way of getting her hands on it.”
“If that’s what she’s after, then why threaten me into poking around? Why not just ask me to get the ring out of evidence?”
Wiping the sweat off her brow, Celia said, “Olivia’s like a crab, incapable of heading in a straight line to get what she wants. She scurries left and right. She’s a strange woman.” Kate eyed the other woman for a long moment, which compelled her to add, “That’s all I know. Really. And please, keep it to yourself.”
Kate was inclined to press her for more, but she believed Celia. The woman’s honest eyes confirmed that she really had said all that she knew, so Kate took the ladder from her, asking, “Where do you want this banner?”
“Near the admissions turnstile where customers enter the park.”
Kate tucked the staple gun handle into one of the loops on her overalls, slung the ladder over her shoulder, and with the folded banner clamped under her arm, started through the amusement park toward the admissions entrance.
The sun beat mercilessly down as she walked. Sweat beaded across her hairline and over her chest. If her doctor had warned her against physical exertion, this was precisely what he didn’t want her doing. She felt her chest tightening and her breathing grow shallow, but soon she reached the turnstile. There were two posts on either side of the three turnstiles. She would have to staple each end of the banner to those posts, but just thinking about it was daunting.
She pitched the ladder and set the banner on one of the steps then walked over to a shady patch of grass, under one of the tents to catch her breath.
She could really use Maxwell Stone’s help right about now, not that he had helped her all that much. It had been a solid lead that he’d followed Doris to Celia’s house that night, but Celia hadn’t told her anything useful. So much superstition around a fancy ring...
Or maybe it wasn’t superstition. Maybe Mrs. Hyatt was right in her own convoluted way. Maybe the ring really did hold the answer. Maybe it had been Doris’s way out...but the harder Kate tried to consider this angle, the less sense it seemed to make.
Looking at the posts, Kate had half a mind to drive home, pop a handful of sleeping pills, and wash the world away. But that wasn’t who she was. She was strong, a fighter, and time hadn’t aged her. She had always had more energy than anyone else around her and she refused to be limited by some mysterious ailment.
She marched over to the ladder and climbed it, banner in hand. At the top of the ladder she flung the banner open and tried not to admit it felt like a thousand pounds. Her arms were aching, but she muscled the edge of the banner against the top of the post and stapled it on.
Breathing heavily, she climbed down the ladder, moved it to the other post, and shimmied up it, grunting with every step.
Once she had the banner secured she glanced up at it from the grass and cursed loudly.
The damn thing was upside down.
“Is that an artistic statement?” A man behind her asked.
When she turned, she found Maxwell Stone screwing his face up at her mistake.
“You’re hired,” she blurted out. “Just, Christ, just fix it and report to Celia at the red and white tent. I can’t be in this heat.”
Maxwell chuckled and she thanked him, lumbering off to her truck that she wished she hadn’t left at the back of the field.
She needed water. She needed to lie down. But something deep inside her forced Kate to keep walking.
By the time she reached her truck, she had resolved to get to the bottom of Doris Chestnut’s murder once and for all.
Chapter Seven
Kate knew the evidence lockers were located on the second floor of the precinct behind forensics and ballistics where a handful of analysts worked. When she drove through the Municipal Building parking lot, she circled around to the back, plotting to go through the stairwell to the second floor, and hopefully avoid Scott and the rest of the detectives all together.
After pulling into a spot, she scanned the parking area. There was no one around and only a few parked vehicles, so she climbed out of her truck and eased quietly through the back door. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light and when they did, she labored up the stairs, taking a breather on the landing as soon as she reached it.
The door opened into a corridor with offices to the left and right. If memory served her, she would find the evidence lockers to the right, so she ventured in that direction, all the while wracking her brain for the best way to get past the guard. What excuse could she offer to get the ring?
Nearing the guard, she had come up with no excuse that would sound believable. She smiled instead, saying, “Hi, Jonas.”
His eyes brightened, causing him to look decades younger than his forty years.
“Going to the big fireworks celebration tonight?”
He frowned. “That’s the hope, but Scott has us scheduled into the late evening,” he complained. “What brings you?”
Thinking on her feet, she said, “I think a personal belonging of mine got accidentally bagged as evidence from the Roberts’ Victorian house a few days ago.”
“No kidding?”
“Unfortunately,” she lied, hopeful he was buying it. “Would it be possible to have a look around?”
“I can get it for you,” he offered. “What did you leave behind?”
“Ah...” What could she possibly say to dissuade him from finding the item himself? “I’d prefer to get it myself.”
“No can do. We have strict policies against it.”
“Okay...well, it’s a lady product...”
He looked alarmed, swallowing hard. “Like?”
What would repulse him into allowing her entry? “A diaphragm.”
“A what?”
“A silicon dome I place over my cervix to—”
“Enough said.” He stepped aside and led her through the aisles of lockers and unlocked a large one toward the back of the room. “These are the boxes of evidence we collected,” he explained, stepping aside. As soon as she reached for one, he turned his back, embarrassed.
“I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“And I’ll just be over here,” he said, shuffling away.
She watched him for a moment until he disappeared around the corner and then quickly began rummaging through the boxes in search of the emerald ring.
Awkwardly, Jonas called out, “Guess it’s good to hear your marriage is going strong!”
“Strong as ever!” she responded, and then to shut him up added, “Contraception at my age is tricky business!”
He muttered, ‘Oh God,” under his breath and she heard him amble out into the corridor.
Thank God he hadn’t asked how in the hell she could’ve left a loose diaphragm at a crime scene, or why she might have had cause to have one on her while working...
She found a plastic evidence bag containing the ring and quickly tucked it into her pocket, shouting, “Found it.”
Jonas hurried back and as he locked the locker, she stuck her hand into her overalls saying, “Here it is,” but he stopped her as she knew he would.
“Hey, now, I believe you. No need there, Kate, you can keep it in your pocket.”
“Thanks again!”
Quickly, she rushed out of the evidence room and rounded into the stairwell, but as soon as the door clicked shut behind her, she realized she didn’t have the e
nergy to press on. Instead, she sat on the stairs and pulled the evidence bag from her pocket, eyeing the emerald ring inside.
The gemstone looked as big as a nickel where it spanned the silver band. She opened the plastic bag and plucked the ring out, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. It looked like a gaudy piece of costume jewelry.
Turning it over in her hands, she suddenly noticed two tiny hinges at one side of the emerald. Hinges? On the other side was a small silver latch. She frowned, staring at it.
She used her thumbnail to pop the latch and the gemstone jarred only a few millimeters. A compartment? She lifted the gemstone vertically, its hinges grinding on the other side. It reminded her of a locket, but when she peered inside the shallow compartment, she noticed it didn’t contain a photo, but what appeared to be white powder.
‘The ring will protect you.’
But from what? From murdering another person...
Doris had been poisoned.
All of a sudden, Kate understood what she was looking at.
The white powder was poison.
No one had killed Doris Chestnut.
Doris had killed herself.
Stunned, Kate stared at nothing in particular, remembering the many clues she had discovered: Mrs. Hyatt’s son had been furious that she had given the ring to Doris, Doris had supposedly killed him for this very reason, Mrs. Hyatt had insisted the ring could stop the madness, and she was right, but in a very twisted way.
What had happened to Doris that night?
Maybe Celia was right. Maybe Doris was mentally ill. She had bought into an urban legend so deeply that she ended up taking her own life out of fear she would kill again.
Kate startled when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket.
She exhaled deeply, snapping the emerald back into place and dropping it inside the evidence bag, turning her attention instead to the call.
It was Larry, so she swiped the screen. “Hey there.”
“Kate! It took some time, but I have a few names for you.”
Right, she thought quickly. She’d asked him to compile all the individuals who had bought asphalt. “Go ahead.”
“Okay,” he said. “I have the Johnsons, so that would be Ken and Celia.”
“Got it,” she said, making a mental note.
“And I have Harry Stone.”
That was Maxwell’s father whom she had questioned in exchange for fixing his leaky faucet.
“Got it.”
“And I also have Doris Chestnut.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” he concluded.
“No one else?”
“Not in terms of small quantities of asphalt, no. That’s everyone.”
“Thanks, Larry.”
“No problem. So I’ll see you tonight at the fireworks?”
“That’s the plan,” she said before thanking him again and hanging up.
Using the railing, she pulled herself to her feet. Now the trick would be sneaking the evidence bag back into the locker.
As she traipsed through the corridor, she tried not to laugh at herself for her idea: ‘Sorry, Jonas, wrong diaphragm!’
No, that wouldn’t fly.
But as she rounded the corner, she came face to face with Scott, who didn’t seem at all pleased to see her.
“Kate, what are you doing here?”
Jonas was frowning at her as well, but Scott quickly ushered her around the corner.
“What’s this I hear? You told Jonas you left a...” he whispered sheepishly, “diaphragm—”
“Oh, he misunderstood me,” she said, brushing it over, not that her husband was buying it. “Okay, fine. I was curious.”
“You tricked your way into the evidence lockers because you were curious?”
“Look,” she said, taking the evidence bag from her pocket. “I was going to come find you and tell you.”
He didn’t look convinced, but she was barreling ahead anyway. When she had the ring in her hand, she popped the emerald. “I think it’s poison.”
Scott fell silent. “White powder.”
“Can you test it? I would bet anything it’s poison.”
“So Doris had the murder weapon on her the whole time.”
“That’s just it, Scott,” she began explaining. “I don’t think it’s a murder weapon. I think Doris killed herself and someone covered it up.” She studied his expression for a beat. “Is that a crime? To cover up a suicide?”
“It is,” he allowed. “But it’s not a felony charge. It would be a failure to report a death and failure to report disposal of a body. And when it’s a suicide, those charges can be more severe, because ultimately the medical examiner needs to confirm cause of death.” Scott secured the ring closed and dropped it back into the evidence bag. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. First I need to have the powder tested in order to confirm it’s poison and the same type that killed Doris.”
Finally, Scott got a good look at her and exclaimed, “Katydid, you’re beat red.”
“Oh, I was outside for a few hours.” She felt her cheeks, which were hot to the touch.
“What on earth were you doing outside?”
“Helping with the fireworks.”
He grumbled, “Would you please rest? Go home and take a nap.”
“I don’t know how. It’s against my nature.” She watched Scott tuck the evidence bag into his pocket. “Will you release Mrs. Hyatt?”
“It’s way too soon to tell. Not to mention, that just because Doris was wearing a poison ring doesn’t mean someone else didn’t take her life.”
“Oh come on, you don’t believe that?”
“Personally, I believe you. The more I hear about Doris Chestnut the more I think she should’ve been in a mental institution, but I have to be practical here.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “Promise me you’ll go home and get some rest before the fireworks tonight.”
Reluctantly she agreed, but blurted out, “After a cup of coffee.”
“Kate, you’ll never fall asleep if you’re all hopped up on caffeine!”
“Work with me here,” she pressed.
Scott walked with her down the stairwell and out to her truck. After opening the driver’s side door for her, he kissed her cheek.
“Will you come with me to the doctor’s tomorrow for those tests?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll give you a call around six and we can head over to the fireworks together.”
She agreed, climbing up behind the steering wheel. “Hey,” she said before he could shut the door. “I usually fight my own battles, but...”
“What’s going on?”
“You know Olivia Tartt over at the Rock Ridge Tribune?”
“What about her?”
She debated for a long moment.
“Kate?”
“She threatened to print my health results if I didn’t help her—”
“Help her how?” he demanded, suddenly infuriated.
“With investigating...”
Scott furrowed his brow and Kate could almost see him mentally tallying the various charges he could pile on Olivia. “Is that why you stole the ring?”
“I borrowed it,” she quickly corrected, but when he frowned at her, she added, “well, no, but I can’t stand her.”
“Let me deal with it.”
“Her interest in this whole Doris Chestnut mystery seems off to me. Plus, she was the one who bought the Roberts’ house. And as far as I can tell, she’s also manipulating Amy and Jack. I’m not sure they would’ve sold the house to her otherwise.”
Scott nodded, kissed her cheek again, and shut the door. As he eased back, Kate turned the key in the ignition and backed her truck out of the parking spot.
Driving through the heart of Rock Ridge, she wasn’t sure she would take a proper nap once she got home, but she’d certainly keep off her feet.
She pulled up to the curb in front of Bean There and killed the engine. If she was going
to be a prisoner in her own home for the next few hours, she might as well soften the blow with a large cup of coffee. Just anticipating the aromatic dark roast perked her up, but when she got to the back of the line inside the coffee shop, she received a phone call that would change all that.
“Hello?” she asked, curious that someone from the hospital would be calling.
“Kate, hi, this is Nurse Roland.”
“Okay, hi...”
“You’re schedule to come in tomorrow at nine in the morning?”
“As far as I know.”
“And will your husband be with you?”
“I take it you think he should?”
She heard the woman’s breathy laugh through the receiver confirming as much. “In the meantime, I would suggest you stay away from caffeine and alcohol.”
“What? Why?”
“Because we need to run a few more tests.”
“This is ridiculous,” she complained. “I can’t work like I usually do. I’m supposed to rest. And now you’re taking away the few things that make this situation tolerable?”
“It’s for your health.”
“Are you sure it isn’t to torture me?”
“I’m very sorry,” said the nurse and Kate quickly apologized.
“It’s fine. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”
The line had been inching along and when she reached the counter her mind went blank.
Clara was already grabbing a large to-go cup, figuring Kate would order the usual.
“No coffee,” said Kate, disgruntled.
Clara’s mouth dropped open. “Are you feeling okay?”
She didn’t even know what to say to that so she blurted out, “I’ll have two, no three, chocolate chip muffins and a slice of blueberry pie and what’s that?” she asked, pointing to what appeared to be a ball of fudge.
“It’s a fudgy-pop,” said the barista.
“I’ll take five.”
If she couldn’t have caffeine, she would drown her sorrows in sugar and hope like hell that it would give her a boost.
Clara quickly collected the items and rang up her order as Kate glanced around the coffee shop, envying all the happy customers with their coffees.
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series Page 102