by Nan Sampson
Ellie gave the woman her best marketer smile. “Hi. I’m Ellie Gooden. Harvey Briggs said I had a stack of mail here?”
“Oh, honey, we met the other day, don’t you remember? Welcome again to town. Hang on…” She bent down and rummaged under the counter for a moment, then brought up a huge stack of envelopes and catalogs rubber banded together. “Here you go. Harvey heard you’d been staying at the Inn, but weren’t sure if you wanted this stuff delivered there or out to the cabin or maybe to the shop. So I told him to just ask Marg, since she’s workin’ for you now, and she’d likely know what you wanted.”
“You can just drop all this kind of thing off at the shop for now. At least until I get settled into the cabin, which may still be a few days.” Or less, if her appointment with Gruetzmacher was more than just him asking her out for dinner.
“Good to know. Well, you just let me know if you need anything.”
Ellie smiled, hefted the enormous stack of mostly junk mail then made a polite exit. She called Gruetzmacher’s number from the car to let him know she was on her way – checking inside the vehicle before she climbed inside for an irate Louisa Cullen – then headed down the street to keep her appointment. She wished there was a way to find out if the “he” that Artie Cullen had allegedly left his possessions to was his illegitimate son, Todd Hertz. Could that be the real reason Louisa Cullen had gotten involved with him? To get her hands on the money she thought her father should have given to her?
And then a more chilling thought occurred to her. If Louisa had indeed killed her father, how safe now was Todd Hertz?
Chapter 30
Gruetzmacher looked more somber than usual when he waved her into his small, cluttered office. He was on the phone, but wrapped up his conversation quickly when he saw her.
“Have a seat,” he mouthed to her. To the person on the other end of the line, he said, “Right. Okay. You’ll have it by end of day. Thanks, Tom.” He hung up with a frustrated grunt. “Hang on. I need to scribble something on this form – God, how I hate forms – then I’ll be right with you.”
She sat down in his worn, blue visitor’s chair, while he filled in little rectangles on a crowded form, muttering to himself. Finally, after a final scan of the document, he set it aside and looked up.
“How was your trip to Madison?”
“Great, actually.”
“Good, good.” He hunted for a file folder on his folder-strewn desk, then opened it up. “We got preliminary results back from the crime lab in Madison. None of the fingerprints at the crime scene turned up anything out of the ordinary. A couple of the workmen you had in there were in CODIS, and we checked them out, but all of them had alibis and none had any motive. Yours, of course, were everywhere.”
“Not a big surprise.” Was this what he’d wanted to tell her? That they were basically nowhere?
“In addition, we did manage to find some fingerprints on the window ledge of your cabin that didn’t belong to Earl Mough. Nothing useful from CODIS there either. If there was someone lurking outside your window, and if they did that lurking since you came to town, which is still unverifiable, then whoever they are, they’re not in the system.”
“Great. So that leaves us with a big nothing.” She couldn’t hide her frustration, made keener because she wanted to go back to her cabin and start living her new life.
“No, not entirely. It basically eliminates a whole bunch of prospective suspects – the local peepers and miscreants who like to pilfer things and cause trouble. It gives us a couple of directions to go in.”
“But you still don’t know who killed the llama. Or why. Or who killed Artie Cullen.”
He pressed his lips together. “I can’t really discuss it with you, Ms. Gooden. Let’s just say we’re following up on some leads, and that we are making progress.”
How often had she heard that during the yearlong investigation into her parents’ death, and still no one had ever been charged. “Great. Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“That and because I don’t have a firm suspect in mind for the incident at the cabin, I’m going to recommend that you continue to stay at the Inn for a few more days.”
“What about Louisa Cullen? She threatened me. Why don’t you fingerprint her?”
“Her prints are already on file. They’re not a match.”
“You’re telling me she wasn’t responsible? What about what happened at the shop? That had to be her.”
Gruetzmacher shrugged. “It may have been. But since there were no prints left there, and she apparently has an alibi for the time period in question…” He spread out his hands.
“An alibi?” Ellie squeezed her eyes shut. “What kind of alibi?”
“She was with Todd Hertz, having coffee. Todd has confirmed it. Although I really shouldn’t even tell you that much. I’m not really supposed to comment…”
“—comment on an ongoing investigation. Yeah, I’ve heard that crap before.” She stood, angry now, not so much at Gruetzmacher, who was only doing his job, but at the whole mess. “So what am I supposed to do? Live at the Inn indefinitely? You know, I’m not made of money.”
“Calm down, now. I’m not suggesting you stay there forever. I just need a few more days to—”
But Ellie was at her breaking point. “No. Not a few more days. I’m going back there tonight. Louisa Cullen be damned. I’m not going to let her – or anyone else – scare me away from what is now my home. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into leaving in the first place.” She stalked to the door, so angry she was shaking. “And another thing. Just in case you aren’t in the know, I have it on pretty damn good authority that Todd Hertz is really Artie Cullen’s illegitimate son. And that Louisa Cullen thought she was going to inherit half of Artie’s fortune – and didn’t. So if you’re looking for a murder suspect, I’ve just given you two.”
She knew she’d regret what she’d just said later, but she was so angry at the moment, she didn’t care. Storming out of the office, she jumped into her car, and with tires squealing, drove off way too fast.
Chapter 31
Patti and Arabella were still fussing with the flower arrangements on the tables in the main dining room when Ellie burst in. Her intention had been to check out immediately and head for the cabin, but as soon as she saw the two women, she was reminded of the memorial service, and her promise to man the espresso machine.
They both looked up at her, smiling. Ellie tried to alter her expression to match theirs, but she could tell she hadn’t been successful.
“Ellie! What’s wrong? Nothing with the shop again…”
Ellie shook her head. “No, no, everything’s fine. I mean…” She took a deep breath. “I just met with Bill Gruetzmacher. He hasn’t made much progress on all this mess. Regardless, I’ve decided I’m going to go ahead and move back into the cabin.”
The two women looked at one another, making opinion of that action was clear.
“Ellie, dear,” Arabella began in her most conciliatory tone, “are you sure that’s the best thing to do? You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”
“No. I mean, yes, I know that and I really appreciate it. But I just want to go home. Back to my own place. Do you know what I mean?”
Patti was nodding. “Of course we do. I completely understand. But—”
Ellie shook her head. “No. No ‘buts’. Someone is trying to scare me off, and I’m pretty sure I know who that someone is, despite what the Chief says to the contrary. I refuse to be frightened away. That’s just not who I am.” At least that’s what she was telling herself.
They looked at each other again. Ellie set her shoulders squarely, defying them to argue with her.
“Who do you think it is?”
Should she say? She knew that Patti was close to Artie’s daughters., and she didn’t want to burn any bridges. “I’d rather not say – without the benefit of proof. There’s always the possibility I could be wrong.”
&n
bsp; Patti was nodding to herself. “You still think it's Lu, don’t you?”
What could she say? She didn’t want to lie either. “She did threaten me. She told me I’d better leave town, or bad things would happen. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put the two things together. She doesn’t like me because Artie sold me the shop – which she feels should have been left to her. So now she’s doing everything she can to force me to pull up my tent stakes and leave town.”
Patti was clasping her hands tightly together. “But you can’t think she murdered Artie.”
Not knowing how to answer that, Ellie just pressed her lips together.
“Well, Bill certainly can’t think that. Can he? Lu may be confused, and a bit of a rebel, but she loved her father…” She trailed off, as Arabella gave her a disbelieving look. “Well, yes, they had their differences, but he was her father. She couldn’t have done that to him.”
“They used to tar and feather people to publicly humiliate them, Patti.” Ellie kept her voice gentle. “Lu despised her father’s infidelity. It must have been not only humiliating, but incredibly painful to watch her mother have to live through it. It isn’t a stretch to think she’d want him humiliated.”
Patti shook her head vehemently. “No. I don’t care what you say. Louisa is just not capable of such a horrible thing.”
Arabella put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Okay. Enough of this. We have a lot to do, and the guests will start arriving in just over an hour. Ellie, could you help me with some of the equipment in the kitchen? Patti, why don’t you finish up with the flowers – you’re so much better at that than I am.”
There was an awkward moment, in which Ellie could see that Patti wanted to continue her defense, but finally, her shoulders relaxed and she nodded slowly.
With a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of conciliation, Ellie gratefully followed Arabella into the kitchen. Home – and getting her stuff moved back there – would just have to wait until later.
Chapter 32
Arabella had done an outstanding job. If Ellie were ever to have a memorial service for someone, Bella was the one she’d want coordinating it. The woman should have been a professional event planner. There were three huge displays of photographs of Artie through the years, artfully arranged, and scattered around the dining room to prevent too much of a pile-up in one area. There was a projection screen on the wall opposite the buffet table, displaying a DVD loop of photos and home movie clips of Artie and quotes from locals about their remembrances of him. An enormous buffet table lined one long wall of the dining room, loaded with canapés, dips, veggies, six varieties of mini-quiches and every other type of finger food. There were also enough sweets to cause a county-wide diabetic coma, thanks to Marg and her marvelous baking skills.
On Arabella’s advice, Ellie had run out quickly to the cabin and grabbed her classic little black dress, realizing it was the first time she’d had on heels since her last day on the job, a month ago.
Now she stood behind the long beverage table, offering cappuccinos and espressos to the line of folks who shuffled by, smiling at everyone, exchanging a few words with the handful of people she recognized. She marveled at just how many people came to pay their respects, impressive especially for a guy so many claimed not even to have liked much. She wasn’t sure if that was just a small town thing – or if many of them had come, like gawkers at car crash, to revel in someone else’s gruesome misfortune.
Laura Lincoln appeared, looking pale and thin in a trim black skirt suit that she had to have found at a vintage clothing shop. With its short-waisted jacket, appliquéd collar and pencil skirt, it was a suit Ellie never could have worn, looking best on those ultra slim women that Ellie’s father always said, in an attempt to make Ellie feel better about her figure, were built like twelve-year-old boys. It looked terrific on Laura, making Ellie wish for a moment she hadn’t been blessed with her grandmother’s Irish peasant build – short, and if she didn’t watch every morsel of food that went into her mouth, with a tendency toward roundness.
Laura took a long, slow sip of her frothy cappuccino and rolled her eyes in delight. “Oh, that’s so good. I cannot wait until your shop opens. I went to school in Chicago and I so miss my ‘foo-foo coffee’, as my mother calls it.”
“Thanks. Where did you go to school?”
“Loyola. My aunt lives in Park Ridge, so I stayed with her and took the train in every day. I never asked – are you from the city or the burbs?”
“Strictly a suburban kid. My family is from Crystal Lake, way out on the northwest side. But I ended up working in the Loop, so I bought a condo in the city.”
Laura gave a low whistle. “Wow, real estate in the city is expensive. You must have been doing all right for yourself. Why on earth would you ever want to come to a one horse town like Horizon?”
“Why did you come back?” Ellie countered.
Laura shrugged. “I spent time in Chicago, then about a year out in the Boston area. I just never really felt comfortable in the big city.”
Ellie nodded. “Exactly. I was looking for something else. And I remembered the small town my grandmother lived in, back east. It wasn’t Norman Rockwell, but about as close to it as you could come in real life. I wanted that same kind of thing.”
Laura grinned. “So you found us! Well, I for one, am very glad.” She glanced around, a little guiltily. “Although I probably shouldn’t be acting too happy, considering this.” She gestured around her. “Hell of a thing to happen to anyone. I still can’t quite wrap my head around how he died. So… ugly.”
She couldn’t help agreeing. “I think that’s exactly the message the killer was trying to send.”
Sipping at her cappuccino, Laura glanced around. “I can’t believe someone – maybe even someone here tonight – could be capable of such a thing. I guess I keep hoping it’ll be some stranger – not someone I know.”
Ellie felt a cold chill as the memory of her mother’s body, splayed spread eagle on the floor of her kitchen, half-naked and drenched in her own blood, crossed her mind’s eye like a bad LSD flashback. “You’d be surprised what people are capable of. And trust me, believing that a stranger did it isn’t going to help the people left behind.” Her voice started to break, but she couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Sometimes it’s easier if you can understand that there was a motive. Some reason for it, instead of a senseless, random act of violence.”
Laura was staring at her curiously – the book shop owner had a fair share of what Ellie’s Grams would have called 'Second Sight'. Ellie could see that the woman wanted to probe further and was grateful when Laura let it go, and asked instead, “Have you seen Lu? I cannot believe she would show up half tanked to her own father’s memorial service.”
In truth, Ellie had almost been expecting something like that. In fact, her bet was that Lu wouldn’t show up at all – but the fact that she’d shown up smelling like a six pack, weaving and slurring her way through the dining room to the table Bella had set aside for the family, seemed right in keeping with the Louisa Cullen Ellie knew.
What Ellie hadn’t expected was the very solicitous way Jeanne Hertz was treating the girl. She’d come in with the girl, and while Ellie wasn’t sure if they had come together, Jeanne was sticking to her like a burr on Grams McNally’s sheltie, bringing her cups of punch, a plate full of food that Lu didn’t touch, and then finally a cup or two of espresso, probably in the hopes of sobering the girl up.
But nothing was working. If anything, Louisa seemed even drunker now than she had when she’d arrived an hour before. She’d started two loud and incoherent arguments, one with Arabella and another with a man Ellie didn’t recognize. Next she’d gotten into a screaming match with her sister, accusing Ingrid of turning their father against her. Todd and Patti had tried to calm her down, and taken her off to a corner. Ingrid had looked mortified, the cheeks on her pale face rosy red. An hour or so later, while sitting at a table with Jeanne and To
dd Hertz, Lu had starting shouting at an empty chair, apparently, from what Ellie could hear from her post at the espresso machine, having a one sided argument with her father. Or perhaps the shade of her father, although Ellie saw and felt nothing to indicate Artie was actually present.
Finally, Lu started yelling at Todd, calling him a bastard and screaming at him to leave her alone. Todd kept his voice low, and from Ellie could tell, did his best to quiet her, but when nothing worked, he left the table, looking miserable. The only one who stuck with the girl, ironically, was Jeanne Hertz.
Ellie responded to Laura. “I guess she needed a little bolstering.”
Laura scoffed. “Is that what you call it? Huh. They had the grave side service yesterday. Apparently it was family only – no one I know even knew when it was until it was over with. Sort of odd.”
“Not really. I’m sure they just wanted to keep it private. It was a tragic death. They probably didn’t want any gawkers.” Ellie’s own parents’ funeral had been a circus – the media had been present, and while there were dozens of friends come to pay their respects, there were also an equal number of strangers – gawkers and tragedy hounds who’d been attracted by all the press coverage of the grisly double murder they’d been hearing about on TV. How they had found out about the funeral, Ellie didn’t know, but at the time, she’d blamed the cops. Of course, at that point, she’d have blamed them for the weather.
Laura shrugged, not understanding. “I guess.”
Someone across the room – Ellie couldn’t see who – waved, and Laura’s face brightened. She waved back, then said, “I should go mingle. Don’t forget the Business Owner’s Association meeting on Friday, and the drinks after. Madchen said she invited you.”
Ellie stuffed the pain back down into the little mental box she kept it in, and smiled. “Looking forward to it.”
Laura gave her a distracted smile then disappeared into the crowd of milling townsfolk.