by CeeCee James
Elise turned and ran from the bathroom. She flung open the door to the hallway. “Hamilton! Matilda! Somebody!”
Her words bounced around the hall. Not one answer. “Is anyone here? Help!” Elise ran out in the hall and clattered down the stairs. “Hamilton!”
The foyer was empty with no sound indicating that anyone was coming toward her. There should be running. I’m screaming like a maniac! Where is everyone? She hurried down the hallway that twisted left and right, passing arched oak entrances that led to a formal dining room, a study, a sitting room, the formal living room.
Elise poked her head inside each entrance in search for someone only to hurry to the next room. The heels of her shoes clattered like castanets against the wood flooring. “Hamilton! Aunt Myrtle! Matilda!”
“Mum?”
A nervous face poked out from a doorway at the end of the hall. Cheeks red like two turnips and curly hair escaping from under a mob cap. This was a new person to Elise.
“Oh, thank heavens.” Elise scuttled toward her and into what turned out to be the kitchen.
The woman leaned back with alarm, her round body encased in a floury apron. “Mum? Can I help you?” The cook’s eyes darted around behind Elise as if searching for someone to step in and rescue her from this crazed guest.
“I’m looking for Hamilton. Do you know where he is?”
Defeat flooded the cook’s face at her inability to find someone else to take care of the situation. “Can I help, mum?”
“I seem to have… an unexpected person in my room.” Elise stammered.
“Unexpected, mum?”
The blank look on the cook’s face suddenly infuriated Elise. She straightened. “We need to find Hamilton immediately. And possibly Aunt Myrtle. We need to call the police.”
The last word seemed to light a fire under the cook. She waddled around the room as if the butler might be hiding in one of the huge stew pots on the counter. Finally, eyes opening wide in triumph, she trundled to the phone on the wall. “I shall call him!”
She picked up the white phone and stared at the rotary dial while Elise took some deep breaths. Elise’s hands trembled to snatch the phone away and call it herself. Slowly, the cook stuck her finger in the number and rotated the dial. Click. Click. Click. Click. The dial spun back to zero. She dialed another number.
Elise felt itchy watching, realizing she’d left her cell up in her room. Hurry! Hurry! I need to call Lavina! And Brad!
“Oh, hello?” the cook gave the receiver a flustered look. “Hello? Hamilton?” She shot a side-eyed glance at Elise before turning her back. “Come quickly to the kitchen,” she whispered. “I have an issue.” She drew out the last word in anxiety. “Okay? Okay.” She clicked the phone back into the receiver and turned to Elise. Brushing her hands across the front of her rounded tummy, she announced, “He’s on his way, mum.”
Elise puffed a big exhale and tapped her fingers on her thigh. Just a few more minutes.
Footsteps hurrying along the passageway heralded the butler. He spun around the corner into the kitchen with his hair on top of his head raised in his rush. “Ma'am?” he asked, quickly smoothing his hand along the top of his shiny dome.
“Hamilton, you need to call the police. There is a dead man in my bathtub.”
At Elise’s proclamation the cook squeaked. Hamilton took a small step backward before regaining his professionalism. “After you, ma'am.” He waved his hand for her to lead the way.
“I mean, right now. Call the police.”
“I shall do it from your room, ma’am,” Hamilton reassured her as he clasped his hands behind his back. “If there seems to be a need.”
A need? What in the world? Inwardly, Elise seethed at being treated as though she were having the vapors.
The cook scurried after them. Hamilton raised an eyebrow but didn’t impede her following.
The three of them took the stairs. Elise rushed ahead, only to slow down because of the stately pace the butler took. The poor cook was puffing by the time she reached the top of the stairwell. The three traveled down the hall. Once again, Elise noticed the portrait that hung crooked. What’s the matter with me? Good grief. What does it matter, now? There’s a dead body up ahead!
Elise opened the bedroom door and crossed the floor to stand outside the bathroom. Hamilton glanced in her direction before opening the bathroom door. Immediately, his lips tightened into two thin lines. Behind him, the cook gasped and covered her mouth.
“Cookie,” Hamilton began. “Ring for the police.”
The cook glanced about the room for the phone before sinking onto the bed. She covered her eyes as low sobs rolled through her. Her shoulders quaked.
Elise closed her eyes before grabbing her purse. “I have it,” she told the Butler. Quickly, she dialed for the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a dead body. I just discovered it in my bathroom.” At the request for the address, Elise passed the phone to Hamilton.
Hamilton’s voice was sober as he relayed the address. “No, there won’t be a need to try and resuscitate him. Yes, ma'am. It’s undeniable that he is dead. His face is blue, ma'am. There is cutlery sticking out of his chest.”
Cookie squealed again. Her fingers were white with the effort of clamping them across her mouth.
“Yes, I do recognize him, ma'am. He is our gardener.”
4
The police arrived within fifteen minutes of the phone call, with Lavina hot on their tail. Elise nearly died to see the white Camaro screech in after the police cars, looking as if it were the one pulling the cops over.
Elise stood from the porch swing where she’d been waiting.
“Darlin’, what have you done now?” Lavina exclaimed, getting out of her car. She waltzed up the stairs with the police, somehow pushing ahead of them. They eyed her in her tight blue dress and Louis Vuitton heels.
Matilda opened the front door. She wrung her hands in distress at the sight of the four police officers, only relaxing as Lavina approached.
“Where is Aunt Myrtle?” Lavina asked. The maid pointed to her right.
Lavina breezed down the hall in confident strides with Elise following behind, feeling like a puppy. Darn those high heels. Hard to compete when one is wearing slippers. The two women passed the butler on his way to greet the police.
Lavina gave Elise a cool glance. “Well, darlin’, only a day here, and you’ve already discovered a dead body.”
“Technically, that body was here before I was,” Elise corrected. Lavina harrumphed and opened the parlor door.
Aunt Myrtle still sat in the same arm chair, the teacup sitting beside her. The fire had died down to red coals. Yarn piled high in a basket at her feet was slowly eaten away by her knitting needles. Glancing up from her work, she scowled at Lavina. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Auntie,” Lavina said. She walked over and kissed her aunt’s papery cheek. “I’ve heard you’ve had some excitement today, hmm?”
“Excitement.” Myrtle took a sip of tea before her shaking hand returned it to the saucer on the table with a clack. “That darn gardener got himself offed. Typical of the outdoor paid help. Never dependable. And then Missy here,” Myrtle’s fingers with their overly large knuckles pointed in Elise’s direction. “Had to go and call the coppers. And so here we are.” Her gray eyes glanced toward the doorway. “And here they are.”
“Ms. Kennington, I’m Officer Stone,” began one of the policemen, this one appearing to be in his late fifties.
“Shouldn’t you be removing your hats before you address me?” the old lady snapped.
The police man glanced at his partner, a mustached fellow who hid his grin behind a hand. Officer Stone lowered an eyebrow at his partner and cleared his throat in warning. It seemed to egg his partner on even more. With a sigh, Officer Stone removed his cap and held it over his chest. “As I was saying, Ms. Kennington, we’ve been called for a possible dead body. I’ve sent the other officers upstairs with the bu
tler to assess the situation.”
“There’s no situation to assess. Rodgers, my gardener is dead. End of story.”
Officer Stone opened his mouth when the speaker on his shoulder squawked. He pressed the mic. “Come in.”
“That’s a 187, captain.”
“I’ll call in the coroner.” He looked back at the old lady. “Unfortunately, the story isn’t as open and shut as you would like to believe, Ms. Kennington. The man is not only dead but undoubtedly murdered.”
“Pshaw. Murdered in my house? You must be mistaken.”
“He certainly didn’t stab himself in the chest,” Elise muttered to Lavina.
Lavina fluttered her eyes. “Stabbed? So crass.”
Officer Stone glanced at Elise. “Are you the one that found him?”
Elise nodded, suddenly tense at the scrutiny from the officer. He pulled out his pad. “Let me just ask you a few questions.”
Elise settled in the wing chair across from Aunt Myrtle. She had a feeling it was going to be more than just a few.
Several hours later, the coroner left with the body, everyone had been interviewed, and Elise’s room had been thoroughly searched. The bedroom was currently cordoned off with yellow tape with Elise’s battered valise sitting outside the doorway looking like an orphaned puppy.
The staff had been none too happy to relocate Elise into a new room, and the cleaning job had been hastily done. Elise looked around and tried to ignore the sinking dread inside her chest. The room was still dirty. “Lavina, maybe you need to call someone else.”
“Someone else? Darlin, who am I going to call? It’s just you and me here. How about if I stay with you tonight?”
“And how are you going to keep me safe?” Elise eyed her skeptically. “Throw a glass of wine in the killer’s face?”
“You hush now. I have a few moves.” Lavina settled on the bed before wrinkling her nose at the cloud of dust. “This has to go.” She picked up the phone and rang for the house service. “Hamilton,” her voice was firm. “You need to immediately have both Matilda and Charlotte come up here and clean this room again. It’s disgraceful.” She hung up after his quick answer.
“See,” Lavina brushed her hands off and walked to the wing-back chair. “It’s getting better already.”
“Murder…,” Elise said again.
“Well, you heard the police. Their number one suspect is that transient the gardener hired as a helper this summer. He up and left, and without his last paycheck too. I’m sure that’s who did it.”
“Really, and why in my room?”
Lavina shrugged. “Maybe the transient lured him there after getting the knife. I have no idea. You really can’t explain why people do the things they do these days. Besides, you never know. Maybe that transient had been wandering the halls and stealing stuff all summer, and that’s who Aunt Myrtle heard.”
“So, she’s not so crazy after all.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I guess I’ll have to pay better attention to what she says from now on.”
Pounding down the hall heralded Matilda and another maid, each with their arms loaded with bedding and cleaning supplies.
“This is Charlotte. Now, mum, if you don’t mind moving to the parlor,” began Matilda, her face flushed and sweaty. “I can clean this room lickety-split.”
Charlotte was new to Elise, a young woman with eyes wide and innocent. She smiled at Elise and unwound the vacuum cleaner cord.
“Right,” Elise said, “And, thank you.”
The two housekeepers bobbed their heads as Lavina and Elise left the room.
In the hallway, Elise spied the crooked picture again. “You know, Lavina,” she said as she reached for the frame. With a careful wiggle, she straightened the portrait. “You said this would be relaxing. Easy money, you said.”
“Well, how can I help it that you have the worst luck in the world?” Lavina quipped back. She flipped her red hair off her shoulders. “Aunt Myrtle has the most sedentary life I know of. Until you came along, that is.”
“He was dead before I got here.” Elise reminded. She shivered at the memory of the man’s face. “Poor guy, I wonder why?”
Aunt Myrtle still sat before the fire in the parlor. “Back already?” she asked before patting her lap. A cat stretched from the other chair and blinked at the old lady. “Come here, you furry mouse trap. Come here and let me love you,” Aunt Myrtle said crossly.
Despite the less than stellar invitation, the cat hopped down from the chair and meandered over to the old woman. He rubbed his cheek against her leg encased in thick, tan pantyhose while she continued to pat her lap. “Kitty! Up here, I said.” The cat sprang into her lap, purring loudly. “So,” Aunt Myrtle looked at Elise. “That was a one time deal, right? Not going to be calling the coppers again?”
Lavina cleared her throat. “Aunt Myrtle, it really wasn’t her fault the police had to be called.”
“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to that girlie there. The cute one with the green eyes. Not the loud mouth that you are.”
Lavina’s face stiffened into a fake smile. She glanced at Elise. “Well, girlie?”
“There you go, being sassy again. I was just telling you to watch your P’s and Q’s a while ago.”
“A long while, Aunt Myrtle. Like twenty years ago.”
“Hush your mouth. It hasn’t been that long.” The old lady frowned and stroked the cat a little harder. The cat’s ears flattened.
“I never planned to call the police, but find it hard to ignore the need in some circumstances. I really hope I won't be calling them anytime soon.” Unless another dead body sprouts out of this old house. Elise smiled and tried to flash her most trustworthy look she could muster.
Aunt Myrtle’s pale gray eyes studied her for a moment. “It’s quite uncanny. You look just like her.”
The old woman’s stare unnerved Elise and she swallowed. “Look like who?”
“Her. You know, her.”
Elise shook her head.
“Well, daggumit. I can’t remember. All this commotion, can you blame me? Too much has happened today. Leave me alone, I’m tired.” Aunt Myrtle pushed the cat off her lap and grabbed her cane. Without a backward look at either young women, she stumped out of the parlor and down the hall.
“Well,” Elise began.
“That’s Aunt Myrtle,” Lavina finished.
Elise walked with Lavina back to the front door. “Now don’t lie,” Lavina took a deep breath. “I might be in a pinch, but I don’t want to leave you. Are you sure you want to stay? This all is a bit much.”
Elise opened the door and they both walked out onto the porch. She sighed. “Who else is going to do it? It really seems like now more than ever she needs someone here. I’ll be fine. They have a suspect they’re already searching for. The guy left his paycheck. I’m sure that means he’s long gone.”
Lavina closed her jacket tighter against the cold night air. Turning back, she raised an eyebrow. “I just want to know, what is it with you and dead bodies? Just bad luck?”
“Hey now, there weren’t any on our cruise.”
Lavina rolled her eyes. “You’re getting stuck on semantics since you almost were one. But, then you always did do whatever you could to win an argument.”
“We’re not arguing. And I don’t have bad luck.”
“Maybe not, but I’d be buying a rabbit’s foot if I were you. And stay away from any black cats.”
A grinding brrrr of a motor-bike came from the entrance of the estate, sounding about as out of place in these plush quarters as a pig at a palace. Rounding the corner, under the maples, came the offending bike. Bent low over the handlebars was a little man dressed in biker gear, complete with old-fashioned aviator goggles.
“Who is that?” Elise asked.
Lavina turned to look. “That is Uncle Shorty.”
“Uncle Shorty?”
“Well,” Lavina pursed her lips in thought. “Not a real un
cle. Not related to us at all, actually. His family has owned the estate next to Montgomery Manor for the last few generations. The families have always been each other’s aunts and uncles. He’s always been bugging Aunt Myrtle to sell because he wants to expand the property.”
“Interesting.” Elise nodded.
The old man came to a stop in front of the sweeping stairs, his bike backfiring just before he turned it off. He climbed down and slipped off his glasses, leaving red rings around his eyes.
Standing at just Elise’s shoulders, he looked up with a cocky wink. His white hair stood out like a tumbleweed from the helmet but he didn’t bother to smooth it down. Instead, he trudged up the stairs with confident thumps of his boots and knocked on the door.
It opened and he was quickly received by Hamilton.
“He’s also Aunt Myrtle’s very close friend.” Lavina raised an eyebrow at Elise.
“You mean…?”
“Hush now. It’s impolite to say more than that.”
Elise was quite taken aback at the news that Aunt Myrtle possibly had a beau. Aunt Myrtle? She shook her head as Lavina climbed into the Camaro.
“Well, you keep in touch, you hear? Don’t get into too much trouble.” Lavina called from the window.
“Me?”
“Too much more trouble, I should amend.” Lavina looked at Elise thoughtfully. “I’m serious. Don’t make me worry any more than I already am.”
“Relax. You’re only a phone call away, and I have Brad if I need help.” Elise shrugged toward the house. “And, apparently, Uncle Shorty, too.”
A laugh shot out of Lavina. “You be good, now.” She threw the car into reverse.
“You too!”
“Elise! Way to expect the impossible from me.”
Elise smiled and waved goodbye. The car slowly backed out of the driveway, squealing the tires once Lavina was on the road.
5
Elise woke up late the next morning, having apparently slept through the breakfast bell. Trying to remember where she was, she blinked and looked around the room with the covers still pulled to her nose.