Grounds for Remorse

by Misty Simon

  “Games,” I said before I could get too far into the wine or my thoughts. My brother and Gina did not need me as a matchmaker, and I had too many things to do to worry about their love lives.

  “What are we playing?” Gina asked.

  “Rummy tile.” It was my turn to pick the game, but I knew the reaction I would get and anticipated it with a smile.

  Max groaned and so did Gina and Jeremy. I rocked this game and it would help me think.

  Twenty minutes later, I’d run the table a few times, stealing pieces from other people’s tile arrangements to make my own and racking up the points. “Right now, we have a guy who died and no real clue who did it. Several women and at least one man have the motive and possibly the opportunity.” I stole a four from Gina and made a set of three of a kind.

  “Okay, but who was the woman who circled the block while my mom was here? And did anyone ever find out what time Craig actually died?” she asked.

  I still hadn’t found those oversized tires. And the thought of him lying down at the bottom of the steps for hours was creepy. I was not going to bring that up. It wasn’t worth discussing, especially since Gina seemed to be willing to talk about this like a puzzle to solve instead of a death that had occurred in her home.

  “Dad told me it was about eleven at night.” Jeremy stole from Max to make a four of a kind and had my man groaning. Poor Max only had one more set of tiles in front of him, a set of twos. He had every right to groan. If he didn’t start making some moves, he was going to be dead last.

  No pun intended.

  “Eleven means that the woman circling in the car could have been here at exactly that time. And you all didn’t see anyone out on the street when you left at ten?” Gina asked.

  I did not want to admit that Max and I had been so caught up in each other as we crossed the street that I didn’t even think to look both ways before I stepped into possible oncoming traffic. I just shook my head and Max did the same. Good thing.

  “You didn’t happen to be out, Jeremy, did you?” Gina pulled a tile from in front of him and he groaned. He was doing almost as badly as Max.

  “No, I was sitting on my back porch, enjoying the moonlight.”

  Nicely done and a good visual. Gina gave a little sigh. I knew she liked living above her shop, but we’d talked frequently about wanting a yard and a porch and backyard stuff. She wanted that as much as I did. I might get it someday, but unless she wanted to rent this place out or got married to someone who already owned a house, that might never be in the cards for her.

  “I’m still waiting to hear from Monty, but I don’t know what he has, if anything.” I filled in the two guys about the conversation with the florist, making them swear that they wouldn’t tell anyone else because I did not want it to get around town that Monty had a security camera. Maybe some people already knew, but I hadn’t and that said something.

  “I feel like I’m at a dead end.” I pulled another tile from Gina, one from Max, and a whole set from Jeremy. I laid down the last of the tiles on my rack and called out “rummy.”

  “I don’t like playing with you,” Gina said.

  Jeremy agreed.

  “I do,” Max said, and got his arm smacked by Gina.

  “We do not need to hear that kind of thing.”

  But it broke us all out in laughter, which was good. Murder had happened in this house, and the more we could laugh and eradicate the feelings left in here, the better. Now, if I could just figure out who’d done it so that Gina could rest easy.

  * * *

  Max and I left and Jeremy stayed. I had no idea if he’d be going home tonight. Quite frankly, it was none of my business. I promised myself that I would not look out the window to see when his car left the street. And I didn’t. Max kept me too busy. We talked and laughed and snuggled. This was the stuff a real relationship was made of. I had not the slightest clue what I was missing when I’d been with Waldo for all those years. It was never too late to learn, though, and I was a most apt pupil.

  After a good night’s sleep, I was up and raring to go. I had clues to follow and people to sniff out and a woman in the hospital to visit. I was fully aware Burton didn’t want me within shouting distance of Brenna. For that matter, he probably didn’t want me within driving distance of her. But he was out of luck.

  I stopped at Monty’s to grab a get-well bouquet and ask if he’d found anything.

  “Not really. A couple of teenagers smoking out back and someone who tried all the doors, then walked away. I’ll be reporting that. But nothing else out of the ordinary. I didn’t even see the car driving around three times. Maybe she took a different route.”

  Dead end. But that was okay because I was hoping to get some real info from the woman who had survived the attacker.

  The hospital was on this side of the river, but still ten minutes and two towns away.

  I parked in the lot to the side and got my flowers out of the car. I had a story all prepared. I really was concerned about her welfare, so it wasn’t that big of a stretch that I’d come visit her.

  Matt had called me this morning to tell me Brenna couldn’t remember anything. While that was disappointing, I was not going to miss out on the opportunity to ask my own questions. I might jar something loose that had stayed walled up when talking to the cops.

  I rode the elevator to the fourth floor, very happy that I had not seen one glimpse of Burton. He should have other things to do and other places to do them. This murder might be the biggest thing going on right now, but that didn’t mean the other, smaller stuff had stopped happening.

  I made it all the way to her door, smoothed down my hair, ran over my lines one more time, and knocked.

  “You might as well come in, Tallie,” I heard a masculine voice call out. Burton. Of course.

  “Hello!” I made sure to go cheerfully into the hospital room. No use in showing Burton that I was miffed he was here.

  “Oh, Tallie, they’re beautiful.” Brenna rested in the hospital bed, her brown hair a slight mess, but not looking any worse for wear after her ordeal. I had been happy to hear that she wasn’t really pregnant and even happier to hear that she hadn’t suffered any long-term effects from the poison since her doctor had been able to get it out of her system before it did damage.

  “Thank Monty if you ever get to that side of town.”

  “I will. I go there all the time. He has the best selection.” She took the bouquet of yellow and white daisies mixed with yellow roses and shoved her nose into them. “They smell lovely. Thank you again. You didn’t have to stop by though, you barely know me.”

  “Oh, she would have stopped by anyway, even if she hadn’t known your name.”

  Glaring at Burton would do me no good, so I ignored him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was the one who found you, and I was so scared. I’m happy to see you sitting here and breathing.”

  “I’m happy to be here and breathing.”

  Now how to ask the questions that were burning my tongue without getting into trouble? Then again, Burton had told me to do my thing and bring him any info I found if it happened to fall into my lap. I guess this was me more plucking it out of the tree than waiting for the fruit to fall on its own, but it was all the same in my book.

  “So now that you’re recovered, do you remember anything?”

  Burton twitched in his seat. I caught it out of the corner of my eye but did not turn to look at him.

  “Not really. I wish I could because then the police could catch whoever tried to do this to me, but I really don’t know. I remember a woman from your staff came in looking for more tissues, and I didn’t want to be in the way. I got up to leave, but she told me it was fine and offered me more tea.”

  “Wait. Are you sure it was a woman who came in for tissues?” The answer would either help or put me into a tailspin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I knew everyone on staff. I was normally the tissue getter. And I was the only
woman working the memorial that day. We had others, part-time workers who answered the phones, made copies or ran invoices, but none of them had been working that day. Who was this mysterious person and was she the one who had poisoned Brenna?

  Max had come looking for tissues after my father had pulled me out of the kitchen to take me to task, but there had been no one else that I knew of. I had indicated the tissues weren’t in the kitchen as we stood outside the closed door. I distinctly remembered telling him they were in the closet down the hall.

  “Yes, a woman,” Brenna answered, cutting into my thoughts. “She excused herself and looked flustered to find me in there. I was quick to move out of her way because I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Is she going to get into trouble? She wasn’t mean or anything. Actually she was very nice. She helped me get some sugar for my tea and let me sit back down at the table. I appreciated that flowery stuff you gave me, but the sugar really helped.”

  “Ah, I always appreciate our staff being helpful, and it should be fine. I’ll just send her your thanks.” I willed Burton to keep his mouth shut as he sat on the edge of his chair.

  “She had blond hair, piled on top of her head. I was surprised. With how tidy the rest of you were, she looked out of place. But she was so nice that I didn’t want to judge. I thought maybe she was someone who worked behind the scenes. I don’t know a whole lot about funerals and the places they happen.”

  She wouldn’t have been completely wrong. We did have people who worked behind the scenes sometimes, but even they had to be pressed and spit-polished per my father. When working with the public you could be called upon at any moment and you had to look like you knew what you were doing even if you didn’t.

  “Oh, I’ll make sure to tell her thanks for the sugar.”

  “I appreciate it.” She fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. “After she doctored my tea for me, we laughed as she called me a sweet fiend because I kept telling her more sugar would be fine. She even apologized that she only had powdered creamer instead of the real stuff. I asked her if she could show me where the after-memorial party was going to be. I wanted to experience the whole thing, no matter how mad I was. She told me to take my tea with me. She showed me into the room and told me I had ten minutes before I had to be gone, and then she left me there. I wandered around and then I don’t remember anything else.”

  “I’m sorry it happened to you at the funeral parlor.”

  “I’m just happy I’m okay. Thank you for being so quick to help.”

  “Of course,” I said absently. My mind was whirling with questions and puzzle pieces clicking along. I had to get out of there and start looking for this woman who had access to the funeral parlor. “I should get going. I’m glad you like the flowers and I’ll let Monty know.” I rose from the side of the bed and patted Brenna’s hand.

  Burton rose with me. “I’ll be back. I just have to talk to Tallie for a minute.”

  He opened the door and waited for me to go through into the hallway. I was prepared to be yelled at, though he’d have to keep his voice down. I found myself very okay with that.

  “Say your piece. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t be asking questions. It’s none of my business and I should keep my nose out of it. Does that about cover everything? Did I leave any scolding out?”

  He shook his head at me and hooked his fingers into his belt loops. “You continue to amaze me. Not always in the best of ways, mind you, but amaze me anyway.”

  I stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I mean, it had to. It always did. That almost sounded like praise, and there was no way he was going to leave it at that when he had the chance to take me to the mat and tell me in his own terms to butt out.

  “Okay.” I dragged the word out when he didn’t say anything else, just kept shaking his head as if he was dumbfounded. That made two of us.

  “It really is okay. I’ll tell you what, Tallie. I’m almost tempted to hire you just to see what you could do if you actually had the authority to meddle in this kind of stuff. But you have your own jobs, and I really don’t think we’d want to have to deal with each other on a daily basis. Not to mention I can’t imagine you being okay with me being your boss. So I’m just going to say good job. She didn’t say a word about anyone coming into the kitchen with her, and she didn’t mention the sugar at all to me. Only that she had been alone in the room and the door had been unlocked.”

  Well, score one for me. No scolding and a job offer and praise. I had to change that number, though. Make that score three but minus one, to come out with two, since he wanted to hire me, but apparently could not handle the fact that he’d have to deal with me. Still, two out of three wasn’t bad in my book.

  “Really? She didn’t say anything? I guess it wouldn’t have occurred to her since the employee should have been ours. Do you think she used the poison when she put sugar in the tea? I can’t think of another time she’d have access. And Brenna was clear that the woman wanted her to carry the tea with her, not leave it behind.” Hmm. Who on my suspect list would have been in there and had blond hair? I was trying to run through the list but Burton interrupted me.

  “Now, don’t go getting all high and mighty on me. I still don’t need your interference. What I do need to do is call the station and see if they picked up a teacup from the carpet. I’ll be sending Matt around to pick it up if not. And he’ll take the sugar, too, just in case.”

  “I’ll make sure they’re available.” I even gave him a little salute, which made him grimace. Well, we couldn’t have a great encounter without something going awry, or we just wouldn’t be the frenemies we very obviously were.

  * * *

  I called my mom on the way back to the funeral home. I had a house to clean in thirty minutes, but May Davenport wouldn’t mind if I was ten minutes late. She was a sweet mother of four and had a dentist for a husband. They lived in a nicer neighborhood, though not on the hill. I liked her enough to usually sit down and have a cup of tea with her to give her some real live adult interaction since all her four were under five years old.

  “Mom, are you in the kitchen?”

  “That’s an odd question to ask before saying hello and asking me how I am.”

  Good Lord. Everyone was a critic and no one understood the kind of pressure I was under. “Hi, how are you? Are you in the kitchen?”

  “I’m fine, and no, I’m not in the kitchen. I’m making sure everything is cleaned up in the downstairs. Why do you want to know? The kitchen is next.”

  “Because Matt is coming over and needs something from the kitchen.” I didn’t want to go into the whole thing because she would start fretting.

  “Well, tell him to hurry because I’m cleaning out the cabinets next. Daddy decided he wants everything scrubbed down after the incident the other day. I told him I already cleaned, but he wants cabinets emptied and new contact paper put in there. It’s not even spring yet!”

  “Don’t touch anything!”

  “Why on earth not? Daddy wants it clean and I’m going to clean it. It’s the last room and I want to be finished. I want some time with my friends at the book club. I always seem to be the one cleaning up when I don’t even make the messes.” She harrumphed and I knew a tangent was coming about feeling under-appreciated and overused. It was a common occurrence.

  Before she could get going, I cut in. “Please just don’t touch anything. Matt will be there soon. There might be evidence in the kitchen they missed.”

  “Oh my goodness! Evidence? That’s horrible! Daddy is going to be livid!”

  “Mom, please. I need you to focus. Just keep away from the kitchen and don’t touch anything else.”

  “Well, fine then.”

  I heard the huff of indignation and decided to ignore it. “I’m right around the corner. If Dad has an issue, tell him he can take it up with me and with Burton.”

  I pulled through the gates, do
wn the tunnel, and around the back a minute later. My dad met me at the door.

  “You know how we run things around here, Tallie. Your mother does not need to be talked to in such a way that she’s upset when I walk into the kitchen.”

  “I’m aware of that and yet there was nothing else I could do. The woman who was poisoned here might have been poisoned right in our kitchen.”

  He took a step back. “What?”

  “I don’t know if it’s in the sugar or if the person added something when they put the sugar in Brenna’s cup, but I need everything. Burton is currently asking if the cup Brenna drank out of is at the station. Matt is coming for the items and I need them now.”

  “Of course. Of course.” He strode to the counter.

  “Wait! Gloves!”

  He halted with his hand hovering over the sugar shaker. “Uh, yes, right.” He pulled a set out of his breast pocket. The man was rarely without them, just in case, he said. And this was a just-in-case kind of moment. Retrieving the shaker, he grabbed a plastic baggie from a drawer and gingerly placed it in there. “That should keep any contaminants out.”

  I only hoped that this would bring us one step closer to finding the killer. Fingerprints would be nice at this moment.

  * * *

  I met Matt at the front door with the sealed bag. He eyed it, then eyed me and shook his head. “It’s always something with you.”

  “Just do your job and go away. Oh, and have your sister call me, or I’m going to call your mom.”

  He trotted back to his car while flipping me a wave. That might not work to get Deandra to call, but I wanted to give her one more chance before I called in the big guns.

  I’d checked with Jeremy and Max to make sure neither of them had touched the sugar. Fortunately, they hadn’t. Max demanded to know what was going on. I took the time to tell him and then told him to enjoy his batting cage time with Jeremy, and I’d see him later.