Forest Outings (A Coffee and Crime Mystery Book 3)

by Nan Sampson

  The two left without a word and in about an hour, the members of the Fourth Estate followed them, leaving Ellie with an empty store at 2:45, and a heap of garbage to dispose of.

  She’d just managed to get the tables wiped down when the bell over the door jingled. Arabella Kemp slipped in furtively, her eyes moving from empty table to empty table. “They all gone?”

  Ellie laughed and gestured with her rag. “It’s safe.”

  Arabella pulled up a stool at the counter. “Phew. Good god, what a nightmare.”

  Ellie poured a hot cup of coffee for the innkeeper. “I thought you’d be minding the mint. Aren’t you afraid of what all those reporters are going to do to your place during the press conference?”

  “Seth is there. If anyone gets out of hand, he’s more than capable of taking care of them.” Despite her words, however, the strain of the past few days showed on her face. “I can’t believe this is happening. Especially not here.”

  There was really no good response to that. Ellie felt the same way.

  Arabella stared into her cup for a moment. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, Ellie, and I know this isn’t a very nice thing to say, but… I’m glad he’s gone.”

  “That seems to be the general consensus.” She made herself a cup of tea, letting the silence brew along with her chamomile. Arabella had come for a reason, but Ellie knew from experience that she would need time to come to it.

  A glance out the window was a view on an empty street. Ellie moved to the door and flipped over the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

  “Oh, Ellie, I didn’t mean—“

  “Please. It’ll be dead in here for the next couple of hours, and besides, I made enough off the vultures this morning to pay for next month’s electric bill.”

  Marg poked her head out from the kitchen. “Hey, Bella! Um, Ellie, can I see you for a sec?”

  “Sure. Bella, will you excuse me? Help yourself to a warm up.”

  Once behind the swinging doors, Ellie gave her baker a quizzical look. “What could you possibly need me for?”

  Marg chuckled. “Nothing. I just thought I’d come up with an excuse to leave you two alone. So I’ll just pop out for a little while, maybe run a couple of errands?”

  “You are a dear and sensitive soul. Why not just go home after that? I’ll close up tonight.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive, thanks.”

  Arabella was refilling her cup when Ellie returned. “Everything okay?”

  Ellie nodded. “Fine. Marg needs to run a couple of errands, she just wanted to make sure I knew to check the raisin dough while she’s out.”

  “I don’t know how the two of you do it, running this place by yourselves.”

  Ellie shrugged. “You run an entire inn, Bella.”

  “I guess.” She spent some more time staring down into her cup. “Ellie…I overheard something that I think might be important.”

  “Okay. Do you feel comfortable sharing it with me?”

  Bella bit her lip. “Frankly, you’re the only one I would consider telling.”

  Ellie sat down on her own stool behind the counter. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, you were there the other night, at dinner. You saw what happened when Alphie got there.”

  “Hard to miss. She was so mad, her hair was on fire.”

  “With good reason, if you ask me. Lincoln Fairweather had no right to do what he did.”

  “It certainly was insensitive.”

  “Oh, I know, it’s his property. But doesn’t it really belong to the whole family? Alphie should have gotten a share of the proceeds. She’s Leonetta’s sister, after all. She was the one who took care of their father before he died, and she’s looked after the property these past eight years.” She sucked in a breath through her nose. “Not to mention, I know she could use the money. Alphie never married, you know. Too busy looking after her aging papa. She didn’t get an education either. So all she ever had was the hope that someday John Mueller would agree to sell the old homestead and she’d get a nice little nest egg for her old age. Instead, she gets shafted out of everything, and slandered to boot! I swear, Ellie, he just did it to be mean.”

  “Was it true, what he said?”

  “What, about Alphie and her father having… unnatural relations? Of course not!”

  Despite Bella’s denial, Ellie wondered if maybe there was some kernel of truth to the allegations. A kernel that might even have been worth killing for. “Do we know who the buyer of the property is?”

  “Do you even have to ask? She’s been strutting around like a peacock ever since dinner that night. Says she’s going to renovate the old place, restore it to its former glory.” She thunked her coffee mug down on the table. “But I’ll tell you this - that house never had any glory. It’s been a dilapidated mess practically since it was built.”

  “Dear Goddess, she’s not planning on living here!” I shuddered at the thought.

  “That’s what she tells me.” She scowled. “She’s awful. You won’t believe what she did last night. She came in late after Seth and I had gone to bed, and tossed her soaked coat and shoes and jeans in the hall outside her room, like there was a valet who’d come to wash and dry her clothes for her. She’d been tramping around the property, making plans, I suppose, because her clothes were all covered in mud.” Bella snorted. “I stuck a note on them and told her she could take her wet, smelly clothes down to the local Laundromat.”

  The image of Margaret Roesch sticking quarters in the machines at the Wash and Spin made Ellie grin. “What did she say when she found it?”

  “I haven’t seen her since – she may be trying to avoid me. But she’s left the clothes in the hallway. I think she’s trying to wait me out.”

  It was hard to figure out who would win such a battle of wills. Not wanting Bella to get too off track, Ellie gently guided the conversation back to the original topic. “You said you overheard something. Was it related to Alphie?”

  Arabella bit her lip. “It was Alphie. She came back later that night. I saw her creeping up the stairs to Link’s room.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, and oh, did they have a royal row. Worse than before.” She looked embarrassed. “I… I stood outside the door – I just couldn’t help it.”

  It was no worse than what Ellie had done. “I probably would have done the same thing.”

  “Oh, Ellie, it was awful. Link said that he knew for a fact that Alphie had slept with her father, because his mom had told him about it. Then poor Alphie started to sob and shriek at Link, calling him a liar and the spawn of Satan and then she threw something at him, which must have missed, because Link just laughed at her.”

  That didn’t surprise Ellie at all. “That had to hurt.”

  “She was spitting mad. She said that if Link wanted to start rumor-mongering, that Link should watch out because the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I’m not sure what happened next, it got quiet for a minute, but then Link said, ‘this isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on’, and Alphie came back with, ‘Hah. It’s notarized and everything. Why do you think your mama left town and married that weasel, Art Fairweather.’ Link just laughed again and told her she was a vicious old hag who didn’t know her you-know-what from a hole in the ground. After that, I could almost hear Alphie’s head explode. I think she took a swing at him because I heard what sounded like a scuffle. Then Alphie give a little cry, and Link’s voice dropped really low. I don’t know what he said to her, but right after that Alphie came running for the door, so I skedaddled down the stairs.”

  She sat back, met Ellie’s gaze. “Do you think she might have killed him, Ellie? Frankly, I don’t know which would be worse. They can’t send poor old Alphie to jail – she’d just wither away and die. But I can’t let Josh go to jail either.”

  Ellie understood her dilemma. “This is something Bill ought to know, Bella. Nothing you overheard paints Alphie as a killer, but it does lend some cr
edence to the idea that there are other people who had a reason to want him dead. Of course, it also sounds like Link had a motive to kill her. Or at least find a way to shut her up, if she showed him something that indicated he was born out of wedlock.” She gave a little shrug. “Not that that’s a big deal these days. I can’t imagine that bothering Link much.”

  “I have a hard time believing Alphie could black mail anyone. She’s such a pathetic soul, Ellie, but I guess anyone could snap if they’re pushed into a corner. She never had much, and it seems the little she had hopes of getting just got snatched out of her hands. Oh, and I hate to have those horrible rumors about her and her father gain any ground. You know how people can be about a juicy bit of gossip.”

  “Are you sure there’s not any possibility that there’s any truth to them?”

  “It’s ludicrous. If there was anyone who was really close to Pastor Mueller, it was Leonetta. He thought the sun rose and set on her, on account of her looking so much like her dead mother. Of course, Nettie was also close to almost any boy who’d look at her twice, if you know what I mean. But even so, for Link to insinuate there was something… perverted going on… Ellie, he was a man of God.” She rubbed at her eyes, which looked red and tired. “Lordy. It’s such a mess.”

  It would do little good to point out that lots of ‘men of God’ routinely abused their authority by forcing themselves on youngsters. Instead, she said, “I know, and I’m sorry. But I think it’s important to remember that there is a very real possibility that Josh will get convicted. We need to do everything we can to help him.”

  “You’re right.” She sighed. “I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else.”

  “While you’re here, can you answer a question for me?”

  “If I can.”

  “Per said that Link spent summers here and that he was friends with Josh when they were younger.”

  Bella smiled. “Ever the font of local color, isn’t he? He’s as bad as a little old lady when it comes to gossip. But yes, he’s right, that’s how the two met. Link was a bit older, but kids don’t pay too much attention to age as long as they’re both interested in the same things and those two loved to play down by the fishing hole on the farm. Earl used to tell them they were going to grow fins, they spent so much time in the water.”

  Ellie was reminded of a conversation that she and Josh had had, months before, when Josh had told her about his first sexual experience with “a friend”. The pieces of the puzzle were fitting together perfectly. She could only imagine the sense of betrayal Josh must have felt. Problem was, it just made him look even guiltier.

  Mad at herself for even allowing that small doubt to penetrate her loyalty, she squashed it all down. “I know you’re conflicted, Bella, and it’s not for me to tell you what to do. But if I were you, I’d go tell Bill what you overheard.”

  Bella sighed. “I suppose I should be getting back to my guests. Although no one comes down for meals anymore – that little bird Sierra Thorsen hardly eats a morsel, and the other one, Matt Pace spends most of his time out over by the lake or at the Mough’s.”

  That surprised Ellie. “At the Mough’s?”

  “Yeah, he takes one of the horses from the stable and rides over there. Apparently there are some rare birds he’s interested in – Josh told him about them.” Bella shrugged and gave a laugh. “I wouldn’t know a rare bird from an ordinary one, but he takes his little binoculars and off he goes, every morning before the sun is hardly up.”

  A glance out the window confirmed how late it was getting. Twilight hovered over the street outside, the lingering light reflecting off the snow, giving Main Street an almost fairy tale quality.

  Bella followed her gaze. “Oh my. I didn’t realize it was that late! I should get back – I can at least have dinner ready for Seth and Chloe, even if none of the other guests deign to come down. Thank you so much, Ellie.” She gave her hand a sudden squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re one of us!”

  Ellie didn’t have to force a smile. “Me too.” She meant it. Despite all the grief, she really did.

  After Bella left, Ellie closed up the shop, put together a baker’s dozen of muffins and scones left over from the afternoon’s baking and hopped in her van. It was only four o’clock and she thought it might not be too terribly late to pay a call on the self-effacing church mouse, Alphie Mueller.

  It was a ten minute drive to the entrance ramp to the highway, then another twenty minutes in what constituted rush hour traffic to the exit for Rockton, Wisconsin. Ellie pulled off, consulted the map app on her cell phone and headed into town.

  Turning left at Benton’s Diner, she followed Oriole Street past Rockton’s Laundromat and into a quiet, older residential street that had seen better days. There was some small signs of gentrification – some of the larger homes showed varying degrees of renovations, and all the yards appeared to be well kept – although under the snow, it was harder to tell. At least, Ellie thought, people were trying.

  It was about 4:45 when she pulled up in front of the tiny, pale yellow sided cube. Two yew trees flanked the green-painted door, which made her shiver. Yew trees were the trees of death. She walked up the carefully shoveled walk, now wet with melting snow and used the shiny brass door knocker nearly hidden beneath a seasonal dried flower wreath.

  In only a couple of seconds, she sensed someone on the other side of the door. Probably looking at her through the peephole.

  A thin voice sounded. “Can I help you?”

  “Miss Mueller? I don’t know if you remember me, my name is Ellie Gooden. I own a coffee shop in Horizon.”

  There was a pause and Ellie was afraid the woman had left her standing there. Then there came a scrabbling sound, as Alphie Mueller drew back the security chain on the door, and a second later, the door opened.

  Alphie was smiling shyly. “Why, Miss Gooden. What can I do for you? So nice to see you.” She stepped back and gestured. “Please, do come in. It’s getting chilly again, now the sun’s gone down.”

  Ellie stepped into the tiny living room, careful to wipe her feet carefully on the welcome mat, which sported faded red and pink poinsettias.

  “Thank you.” She held out the basket of muffins and scones. “I thought you might like these. They were baked fresh today at the shop.”

  The mousey little woman, who stood no more than five foot two, took the bag and eagerly looked inside. The look on her face was of a child at Christmas, and she put a hand to her chest. “Oh my. These look wonderful! Would you like to share one with me? I could put the percolator on the stove and make us some coffee.”

  People still had percolators? She gave Alphie a smile. “That would be lovely, but please don’t go to any trouble.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Why don’t you have a seat here, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be just a moment.”

  As Alphie scurried off, Ellie stepped into the center of the little room and looked around. It was sparsely furnished with a davenport and a barrel chair that had to be from the late fifties or early sixties. It reminded her of the old Dick Van Dyke show. There were a couple of end tables, both chockablock full of ceramic cats in various poses, all sitting on large crewel doilies. Everything was carefully dusted, and considering the number of ceramic items, it must have been a full time job.

  An old-fashioned tea cart in a lovely honey maple stood against the far wall, and it too was covered by a doily. On that was a lovely dried flower arrangement in a wicker basket, and Ellie recognized the handiwork of Patti Mough. She’d done a number of them for some church bazaar a couple of Christmases ago – Alphie had either bought one, or more likely, Patti had simply given her one. On the wall above was a plain wooden cross about a foot long. Its simplicity spoke volumes.

  On the wall closest to the front door was a small drop front secretary, currently standing open. An old ladder back, wicker seat chair sat in front of it, and Ellie could see a drawer, half open below the writing surface. She could just s
ee the red leather cover of a scrap book or photo album.

  She strolled casually over to the desk and peered into the little cubby holes, not quite sure what she was looking for. There was a sudden drop in temperature. The hairs on the back of arms stood up and she felt a pressure in her head – a sure sign that a spirit was making its presence known.

  She spoke firmly, but quietly, not wanting Alphie to hear. “Whoever you are, now is not the time or the place.”

  Something abruptly slid off the desk top and onto the floor, nearly landing on her foot. Then the cold spot faded and the pressure in her head vanished. Either she was getting better at commanding the departed or the shade had used up whatever energy it had manipulating the object.

  Making sure Alphie was still busy in the kitchen, she bent over to retrieve the object, hoping the thunk hadn’t been heard over the noise of Alphie’s preparations.

  It was a paperweight, the kind with a picture taped to the bottom – a black and white of two young adolescent girls in their Sunday best standing on either side of a man in a black suit and dog collar. No doubt Alphie, her sister Leonetta and their father, Pastor Mueller.

  Was that what the ghost had wanted her to see?

  Maybe. Or maybe not. As she was bent over, she noticed something else. There was a heating air return on the wall behind the little secretary. The vent cover was loose, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Inside, she could just make out something rectangular and covered in what looked like leather, an almost exact match to the photo album in the desk drawer. She had just squatted down to reach into the vent when the rattle of cups and saucers had her straightening quickly.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alphie rattled her way back into the living room, her slight form weighed down by an enormous, black lacquer tray containing a full coffee service and a lovely pink crystal plate with three of the scones Ellie had brought taking pride of place in the center. The tray , fully loaded as it was, had to weigh at least fifteen pounds, but Alphie carried it with ease. Probably years of practice serving a bevvy of ‘church ladies’.