Restless Natives (A Coffee & Crime Mystery Book 1)
Page 19
Chapter 33
About the time Ellie’s feet started to hurt, the evening was finally winding down. She’d gotten out of the habit of wearing heels and all she really wanted to do was slip into a pair of sweats and take herself for a long, mind-clearing run, and feel the cool evening breeze on her face.
Only a handful of people remained as she started to disassemble her station in preparation to moving the espresso maker on its tablecloth draped rolling counter back into the kitchen. She was bent over, unplugging the machine from the wall, when she became aware of someone standing there, radiating a low, steady state level of disapproval. She knew in an instant, and without looking up, it was Jeanne Hertz.
Schooling her face into a pleasant smile, she straightened. “Mrs. Hertz. What can I do for you?”
Jeanne was smiling, but it did nothing to dissipate the perpetual sourness that clung to the woman. “I was hoping you could get me one more cup of coffee. Something strong. For Louisa.” She pointed back to where Louisa sat, looking dazed and out of it, in her chair at the table. For being sodden drunk, Ellie had been surprised that the girl hadn’t been more trouble than she’d been.
After all the arguing she’d done earlier, Lu now looked almost catatonic.
Ellie pursed her lips at Jeanne. “Well, there’s no more espresso, but I could probably heat up a regular cup of coffee in the microwave in the kitchen. Would that do?”
Jeanne gave a ponderous sigh. “I guess it’ll have to. I have no idea what to do for that poor child. Her sister has all but washed her hands of her, and refused to let her back into the house after her behavior tonight. Wouldn’t even say good bye to her when she left just now. And she’s in no condition to drive herself anywhere, but Arabella just told me she won’t have her here for the night either.”
That didn’t sound like Arabella. But then again, Arabella didn’t seem to share the fondness Patti had for either of Artie’s daughters, and maybe she just didn’t want a drunken trouble-maker under her roof for the night. Who knew what kind of mischief the girl might get up to? “Does she have any friends in town? Maybe she could stay with one of them?”
Jeanne frowned. “Well, if she does, I’m sure I wouldn’t know any of them.” She glanced back at Louisa, who seemed so out of it, Ellie doubted she’d even be capable of causing trouble right now. “Still, as a good Christian woman, I can’t just leave her.” She gave Ellie a look that made Ellie cringe. The woman had a plan. “I was thinking…”
Uh oh. Here it came, she thought. The favor.
“Since you’re staying here at the inn, maybe you could allow Louisa to stay at your cabin – just overnight – to sleep this off.”
Ellie didn’t actually groan. At least not out loud. But it took all her self-control not to. “Ordinarily, I would, but I was actually planning to—” she began.
Patti Mough chose that moment to interrupt them. “Pardon me, Ellie. Jeanne, I’m so sorry, but Earl said it was out of the question, especially with Ingrid feeling the way she does. I just don’t think we can take her tonight.”
Jeanne nodded understandingly. “I understand. It’s okay. Ellie’s going to let her stay in her cabin tonight.”
“Oh, Ellie, would you, even after… Oh, that would be so good of you. It’s only for tonight. I just knew you were one of us from the first time I met you.”
“One of us?” Ellie asked in a daze.
“Good people.”
Ugh. So now if she said no, she would gain a reputation of being uncaring and selfish. And the whole ‘Christian’ aspect aside, her own philosophy was built around two primary tenets, one of which was that whatever you did in this life would come back to you threefold – both the good and the bad. So it behooved one to do at least as much good as bad. Plus, after all the Mough’s had done for her, she could hardly refuse Patti now.
Damn it, she just wanted to go home. Alone. But the universe seemed hell bent on keeping her from doing so. “Um. Thanks. I suppose she can stay at the cabin.” It sounded so half-hearted that she was forced to modify it. “I mean, of course. Of course she can stay there. In fact, maybe I should stay with her.” Good Lord and Lady, why had she just said that? No way did she want to baby-sit a drunken Louisa Cullen. Worse yet, a hungover Louisa Cullen, who would wake up hating everyone’s guts, and who already hated Ellie’s.
Jeanne interrupted. “I don’t think you need to do that. I don’t think she’s that far gone that she’d suffocate in her own vomit.”
Gods. Now if she didn’t stay with her and something happened, she’d feel responsible.
Jeanne went on, oblivious to Ellie’s discomfort. “Why don’t I drive us out there, help you get her settled onto the couch. Then, once we’re sure she’s okay, I can drive you back to the Inn.”
“Well, I could certainly use help getting her settled. But I’ll follow you in my car. I don’t really think leaving her in this state is a great idea. I’d sleep better knowing I was there in case she needed something.”
Patti gave her a quick side hug. “You are so sweet. I’ll make you a whole shelf full of apple pies for this, dear.”
Jeanne put a hand on Patti’s arm. “Speaking of pies, I have those blueberry pies you ordered from the Church fundraiser. I’ll have Todd drop those by tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Jeanne. That would be lovely. I think Earl likes your crust better than mine!” She looked towards the kitchen door. “Bella’s motioning for me. I’ll see you both later. Ellie, you are such a dear!” And she hurried away. Exactly what Ellie wanted to be doing.
Jeanne’s smile broadened sickeningly, knowing she had won the battle. “You really are such a sweet young woman. I told my Todd you were a nice girl.”
Knowing that Jeanne Hertz was talking about her with Todd gave Ellie the creeps, although she couldn’t have said why. Still, better the woman think of her as sweet, than otherwise. “Let me just finish helping Arabella clean up and I’ll be with you.”
“If you’d like, why don’t you give me the keys to the cabin. I can go ahead of you and get Louisa in the house, then I’ll just stay until you get there.”
She hesitated a moment at the thought of Jeanne Hertz alone in her cabin. She’d probably snoop in the medicine cabinet. Still, it was a logical plan. Maybe Louisa would be dead to the world by the time Ellie arrived.
She gave Jeanne Hertz her keys, saw the two out the front door, with Louisa seeming more and more disoriented and out of it than ever, and into Jeanne’s car. Then, promising to join Jeanne as fast as she could, Ellie went back inside to finish cleaning up.
Chapter 34
It was closer to an hour than the half an hour Ellie had estimated when she pulled her old VW Rabbit into her driveway. Warm lights shone through the cabin’s front window, but she found Jeanne Hertz sitting in the dark on one of the old Adirondack chairs on the front porch.
Keeping her voice low, she apologized. “Sorry it took so long. Is everything okay in there?”
“She’s out like a light. Snoring too. God help the man who eventually marries her.”
Ellie glanced in through the window, saw her new ‘roommate’ sprawled on her lovely old leather couch. Jeanne had covered her up in the afghan Patti Mough had crocheted. The girl had better not puke on it. “Okay. Well, thanks for getting her inside.”
“It was nothing. Thank you for allowing her to stay here. I can see you have Jesus in your heart.”
Ellie found herself at a loss as to what to say to that, and finally settled on, “I’m sure I’d want someone to do the same for me.”
Jeanne nodded, as if satisfied with the answer. “If you like, you can bring her over to the church in the morning. Reverend Mueller and I will have put our heads together by then and come up with a more permanent solution for her.”
A car ride into town with Louisa Cullen? Yeah, Ellie thought, that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe she could get Per to take her. Ellie wanted to be at the shop at the crack of dawn. “I’ll see to it she’s aware
of that.”
Seeming happy with herself and with Ellie, Jeanne left her with a pat on her arm and a couple of God bless yous.
Ellie slipped inside the cabin as quietly as she could. Jeanne had put the kettle on, and it was steaming happily on the stove, minus the whistling top. Not wanting to make the noise to put on a pot of coffee, Ellie poured herself a cup of hot water and dunked an herbal tea bag into it, then switched off the lights downstairs and climbed the ladder up to the loft and her bed.
Some hours later, she finally dozed off reading a book, lulled to sleep by the sound of the wind in the trees and Louisa Cullen’s stertorous snores.
Thursday morning started out noisy. Something was making a pounding noise. Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-da. First she thought it was the sound of a jack hammer, as she pulled a pillow over her head. Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-da. No, not a jack hammer. Something smaller, but with the same repetitive cadence, the same jarring effect.
Ellie groaned, cracked open her eyes, and realized early morning sunlight streamed through the giant skylight above her, flooding the loft with dappled light. And heat. Apparently their mild weather was through – she could already feel the sticky humidity in the air. The rapping sound continued and at first she thought it was someone knocking on the door, but further investigation revealed it was coming from outside. Then she remembered someone telling her about woodpeckers -- and cursed the damn birds.
A few yoga stretches helped clear her mind, and she glanced down over the railing, almost hoping that Louisa had awoken even earlier and beat feet for home – or wherever. But no such luck – the girl’s limp form was still sprawled on the couch, head hanging over the side, and one arm and its matching leg sticking out from underneath the afghan.
Ellie dressed, climbed down the ladder then went into the kitchen to put on the coffee. If Louisa woke up to the sound of the grinder, then so be it.
When that failed to rouse her, Ellie turned on the radio while she made herself some toast and jelly, clattering utensils and plates loudly as she did so, humming off tune to the songs.
But the lump on her couch refused to move even then.
Great. She was going to have to wake her. Not something she wanted to do. The coward in her told her to get Per, make him do it. Louisa was less likely to punch Per in the face. In the end, however, that “Christian spirit” Jeanne Hertz kept praising her for won out. Ellie grabbed a second cup of coffee and a couple of pain relievers from the bathroom, and went over to crouch down beside the sleeping girl.
“Lu? It’s time to wake up. I’ve got to head over to the shop, and if you want a lift into town, you’re going to have to get going.”
She expected a groan. Or a moan. Or some swearing. She got nothing.
The girl’s dyed black hair hung limply across her face, so much so that Ellie couldn’t even see if Louisa’s eyes were flickering open. She reached out and gently pushed the hair aside.
Louisa Cullen’s wide open eyes stared blankly towards the fire place. The mouth hung open, and froth flecked the pale, bluish lips. There would be no more threats coming from that mouth. Ellie scrambled backwards, dropping the cup of coffee she’d been about to offer, not even noticing when the hot liquid splashed across her jeans and up onto the bare, waxy leg that hung out from under the afghan.
Louisa didn’t notice either. Because she was stone cold dead.
Chapter 35
The tough veneer Ellie had constructed during her ten years in marketing was shattered the night she’d found her parents’ dead bodies. She’d worked hard in the last year to rebuild it, to wall herself off from all future hurt. Finding the body of Artie Cullen had put a sizeable hole in that freshly built wall. Finding the body of his daughter had taken a wrecking ball to it. She sat huddled on her porch in one of the Adirondack chairs, holding a steaming mug of tea that Per had made her, and even in the heat of the day she felt unable to shake off the chill that had settled into her very bones.
Per sat in the other chair, giving her the silence she needed, but remaining a solid presence nevertheless in a world that no longer seemed to have a firm surface on which to stand. Gruetzmacher had come out onto the porch twice now and Per had twice sent him away. The third time, even Per couldn’t make him leave.
“Ellie, I need to speak with you.” The formality was gone. Gruetzmacher squatted down in front of her, rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”
She looked at him, found he didn’t look familiar. For a moment, she saw the face of the fool who had investigated her parents’ murder. And she was back in the interrogation room, getting grilled about that night, over and over and over.
He shocked her back into the present with a gentle touch. “Ellie?”
She blinked at him, seeing Gruetzmacher again. “What?”
“I asked if you were ready to answer a few questions.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have any answers.”
His smile was as gentle as his touch. “Let’s see about that.”
She was aware of Per’s continued, quiet presence, and even though he didn’t reach out to touch her physically, she could sense his protectiveness. It unfroze her a little and she slowly unfolded her arms and rolled her neck. Her fingers slipped to her earring, a touchstone anchoring her to reality, to her strength. “Okay.” Goddess, she was so tired. “Ask away.”
“Can you tell me about last night? About how Louisa ended up on your couch?”
Last night, and the events of the memorial service, seemed a million years ago. But she did her best to tell him about Louisa arriving already tipsy, smelling like a brewery, and about Jeanne’s solicitous behavior – which drew a great deal of brow raising from both Per and Gruetzmacher – and finally, their deal to have Louisa spend the night at the cabin.
“So you tuck her in on the couch, and then what?”
Ellie shook her head, which was a mistake. Her brain, suddenly swollen to the size of a bowling ball, was threatening to burst open the seams of her skull. She pressed her fingers against her forehead, but it did little to help. In her mind’s eye, she saw her father’s body, face down in the front hall, blood soaking his polo shirt and pooling on the ceramic tiles beneath him. His right arm was outstretched towards the kitchen, where his wife lay…
She got up, ran to the porch railing and vomited over the side.
Per was beside her instantly, rubbing her back, and eventually, when her shaking subsided, leading her back to the Adirondack chair.
Gruetzmacher gave her a moment to collect herself, but she could sense him, waiting. “Ellie? You okay?”
“I think.”
“I’m sorry we have to do this, but it’s important. You know that.”
She did. It just sucked.
“So, you tucked her in, then what?”
“I didn’t tuck her in. Jeanne did that. Before I got home. I came in, made a cup of tea, then went up to bed. I read for a while, listening to Louisa snore. I wanted to stay awake to make sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit. Eventually, though, I fell asleep.”
“And this morning?”
“I got up, made coffee, went to wake her up and—” She shivered again.
“She was dead when you went to her?”
Ellie nodded.
“And you didn’t hear anything during the night?”
She shook her head. She should have. It was why she was there after all. To prevent this very thing from happening. But she’d failed. She couldn’t stop the tears, let them spill over onto her cheeks. “It’s my fault. I didn’t hear her getting sick. I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.” She put her head in her hands, and for a moment, was sure she was going to be sick again.
Gruetzmacher took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “This was not your fault, Ellie. She didn’t die because you fell asleep.”
“But if I’d been home...” She shook her head. She was back in the past again. “I mean, if I’d been awake.”
She didn’t understand. “But I could have made sure she wasn’t face down in her own vomit. She wouldn’t have suffocated.”
Gruetzmacher shook his head. “Did you find her face down in vomit?”
“No, her head was hanging off the couch.”
“Exactly. She didn’t suffocate, Ellie. I’m not sure yet what the cause of death was. Maybe it was alcohol poisoning. Maybe she just had too much last night. But I don’t think so. I think something else killed her.”
That didn’t make sense. “What?”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about last night? Did you see Lu eat or drink anything at the memorial service?”
She tried to think back. She’d been busy talking and serving – and Lu’s table had been about as far away as it could get from the buffet line. But she’d seen both Ingrid and Jeanne take several plates back to the table, and Ellie knew she’d given Jeanne both punch and an espresso she’d said were for Louisa.
Gruetzmacher made notes about it in his little leather bound notebook. “Did you give her anything here, at the cabin?”
“No. I told you, she was passed out on the couch when I came inside.” What was Gruetzmacher thinking?
Per shifted forward in his chair. “You think she was poisoned.”
“It’s a possibility. Her coloring, the foam around the lips. Or it could just as easily been a stroke. Not for me to say.” He changed gears abruptly. “Ellie, I’m going to have Per take you back to the Inn.”
She balked. “No. I want to stay here.”
“I can’t let you do that. For a number of reasons, the most important of which at the moment being that this is now a possible crime scene. If I’m right about Lu’s death, it’ll be important to have your premises searched for any kind of substance that might have been used to poison her.”