by Peggy Dulle
He raised his eyebrows, a move similar to his brother. “You ask a lot of interesting questions for a teacher. Are you some kind of private investigator?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Well, it’s a good question.” He made a note in the file and leaned forward. “Got any more?”
I sat back and ran my fingers over my hair, trying to think what else would be important. “Was the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign out in the morning?”
He nodded. “That’s why the maid waited until two to clean the room.”
“Danielle was here for five days before she was killed, right?”
“Yes.”
“Was that her normal routine, to put out the sign?”
“Don’t know.” He added another note to the file. “Anything else?”
“Did she have family here?”
“Nope.”
“Then why was she here?” I saw him frown and quickly added, “It’s not that you don’t have a great town, and the apple pots are delicious, but why did she come here in December?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and leaned back in the chair.
“Did you have any suspects?”
“Not really.” He shrugged again. “The official report says that it was probably a vagrant looking for money.”
I knew the answer, but asked it anyway. “Did he take her purse, wallet, or at least the money in it?”
“No. The report says he probably got scared after he stabbed her and ran off.”
“Without what he came for? Why didn’t he grab it as he ran from the room? That doesn’t sound right.” I tilted my head toward him. “Does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Is the case still open?”
“Yes, but nobody’s working it.” He closed the file and set it down on the table again.
“Would you mind if I asked a few questions around town and see if I can find out at least why Danielle was here?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not. Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, that’s okay.” If I wanted people to talk to me, dragging a police officer along probably wouldn’t help to open them up.
Jimmy stood and picked up his file, “Let me know if you find out anything.” Then he pointed to my gun. “Keep that someplace safe. I don’t like the idea of a gun just lying around.”
“Do you have a suggestion?”
Bill finally spoke. “Your car’s glove compartment is out. It’s smashed.”
“The room has a safe in the closet; put it in there,” Jimmy said, then turned to his brother. “I’ll walk back to the station. I want to think about this case for awhile without any distractions.”
“Okay, Jimmy.” Bill stood and looked at me. “If you need anything, let me know, Liza.”
I stood. “Thanks but I’m not sure what I need or what I’m going to do next.”
“Well, all of the preliminary eating contests start tomorrow. They’re usually fun to watch,” Jimmy replied as he walked toward the door.
“I have no idea what an eating contest is.”
Bill and Jimmy laughed. Then Bill said, “How about I take you to lunch later and explain the process?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
Bill and Jimmy walked out the door. I put the gun in the safe and locked it up tight. My body still ached all over. I took another couple of aspirin, then lay on the bed and fell back asleep.
Shelby’s barking, and my head pounding, as loudly as the person at the door, awakened me. I grabbed my head and screamed, “Just a minute!” which made my head pound louder.
When I opened the door, Bill was there. His eyes glistened and he had a huge smile on his face. “Are you ready to go to lunch?”
“What about a trip to the local doctor first?” I suggested.
“The aspirin’s not cutting the aches and pains, is it?”
“Nope.”
“Come on. I’ll take you to see Doc Gordon. His office is only a couple of blocks down Main Street, across the street from the pizza parlor. He’s a good guy. He’ll fix you right up.”
“Thanks.” I glanced at Shelby and then back to Bill. “What about my dog?”
“Let’s take her with us. She’s got to be pretty sore too. Doc can take care of her, too.”
“He’s a medical doctor and a vet?”
“Yep. This is a small town. He’s also the local sports team doc, runs the first aide booth at the festival, and,” he paused, “the coroner.”
That last thing caught my interest. “He is?”
“I thought that would interest you. Let’s go get you and Shelby fixed up and you can ask him some questions about Danielle.”
“Great idea.” I hooked Shelby up to her leash and the three of us left the inn. Even though my entire body hurt, I felt like I was making steps in the right direction to unraveling the mystery surrounding Danielle’s death.
Chapter 5
Never before had a couple of blocks felt more like miles. Last night I’d walked to the pizza parlor without much effort. Now each step gave new meaning to the words – excruciating pain.
We took a right out of the inn parking lot and continued down Main Street. We walked by Don’s Card Emporium, newly painted in blue with white trim. There was a huge sign announcing the Apple Pot Festival across the top of the oak door. The glass window in front contained an antique roll top desk covered with cards, journals, and fancy pens. The next business, Joanne’s Fabric Shop, had several “Wet Paint” signs posted on the building. It held the same sign about the festival and its glass window showed several antique sewing machines. Old Time Antiques was next. Again, it had been freshly painted in green and white with green and white-checkered curtains across the top of the front windows. I sensed a theme.
“Hey, Bill.”
“Yeah, Liza.”
I pointed to the shops as we passed. “There sure are a lot of antiques in the windows of the shops.”
“Clainsworth is over a hundred years old and most of the businesses have been around since the beginning. The antiques bring in some tourists.”
“I’m sure any tourist money is greatly appreciated.”
“It is, although the Apple Pot Festival is our main tourist event.”
As we continued down the street I realized that the impression of the town that I’d gotten last night was very accurate. Each business that we passed was newly remodeled and the sidewalks were spotless.
We crossed the street in front of the pizza parlor. Bill stopped in front of a quaint old Victorian house painted yellow with white shutters. There were planter boxes across the entire front of the house and they were filled with beautiful blooming flowers. The front yard was surrounded by a glistening white picket fence. There wasn’t any sign about the festival, just a small white wooden engraved sign that said, ‘Medical Office’.
Bill pointed to the gate. “This is Doc Gordon’s place.”
I nodded, and he held the gate while Shelby and I walked through. The inside of the building was bright and cheery. There were several patients waiting, including two dogs and a rabbit. The dainty oak furniture had flowered cushions and on every table stood a bouquet of fresh flowers. I started to sneeze immediately.
A young woman dressed in white scrubs jumped up and ran over to me. “Allergic?”
Between sneezes, I said, “Yes.”
She quickly guided Bill and me into another room that was similarly decorated but without the flowers. The nurse frowned at Bill. “Why didn’t you bring her in the other door?”
“I didn’t know she was allergic to flowers.” He put his hand on his hips and frowned at the nurse.
“Well, next time you should ask.” Then she turned to me. “Do you want some allergy medicine?”
I sneezed a few more times. “No, I should be all right, now that I’m away from the flowers.” I sat in one of the chairs and sneezed again. I nodded at her. “Okay, I’ll take some.”
The nurse left and re
turned with two little red pills. I took them immediately and within minutes I wasn’t sneezing anymore.
Bill sat next to me and handed me a magazine. “The Doc’s pretty busy, so we might have to wait a little while.”
“That’s okay. If I can see an end to all this pain at the conclusion of the visit, I’ll wait forever.”
Bill laughed and opened his car magazine. My magazine boasted the ten top tips in gardening. That’s a laugh. He didn’t know that I had a black thumb and kill everything I try to grow. At my house, I have artificial flowers for two reasons. One, I’m allergic, and two, living plants never survive even a few days. I always forget to water them or water them too much.
There were two adults, two young boys, and a young girl with a carrier that held a small black cat in the waiting room with us. I figured they all must be allergic to flowers, too. Shelby was the only dog in the place and the two boys came over next to me.
“Can I pet your dog?” the older boy asked.
“Sure.” As soon as I spoke he went to Shelby and petted her.
The younger boy stuck out his hand to me. “My name’s Bud, what’s yours?”
I shook his hand. “My name is Liza. I’m glad to meet you, Bud.”
Bud glanced over at the other child. “That’s my older brother, Alex. He likes dogs more than people.”
“That’s okay.”
“Mama always says he forgets his manners when there’s a dog in the place.”
“He did ask first before petting the dog.”
Bud laughed. “That’s because he’s been bitten more than once.”
“Do you have dogs at home?”
“Yeah, we have a beagle. She’s a little scared of people, but she likes us just fine.”
“Did you get her when she was a puppy?”
“Oh, no. We just got her around Christmas time last year.”
Could this be Danielle’s beagle? Is this what happened to the dog after she was killed? “Where’d you get her?”
“From a nice lady who couldn’t take care of her anymore.”
I glanced at the boy’s mom. She was dressed in a maid’s uniform.
She glanced up from her magazine and smiled at me.
I smiled back and then asked her, “My friend wants to get a beagle as a pet. Did you get yours from a breeder or a pet store?”
The smile left her face and she came over and sat by me. She leaned toward me. “No,” she whispered. “She was left at the inn where I work. No one wanted her and my boys had been asking me for months about getting a pet.” She smiled at her boys. “I was able to bring her home and she’s been with us ever since.”
“Do you work at the Motor Inn?”
“Yes.”
This was too much of a coincidence. Danielle was killed six months ago and had a beagle. These boys got a beagle six months ago that was left at the inn. I leaned toward her, “Is it Danielle Slammer’s beagle?”
Her eyes went wide with surprise and she whispered. “Yes. How did you know?”
“She was a friend of mine. I knew she had a beagle and I never heard what happened to it after her death.” I looked at the boys who were both petting Shelby. “I’m glad she went to a good home.”
Bill finally spoke up. “That’s right. Your family took the little beagle. I’d forgotten about that.”
“Miss Danielle was a very nice lady,” the mom continued. “She used to let my boys play with little Sadie all of the time and even let us baby-sit her once when she went out.”
“Did you know Miss Danielle before she came to this town?” I asked, wondering if this was the reason Danielle came to Clainsworth.
“No. We met her at the park. She was walking Sadie and we came up to her and my boys asked if they could pet her dog.”
Bud shook his head. “No, Alex asked if he could pet the dog.”
She smiled and nodded at Bud, “That’s right, it was Alex.”
“Did you clean her room?” I asked, wondering about what else might have been in Danielle’s room besides her and the dog.
“No, I clean the bottom floor. She was on the second floor.”
“Did Miss Danielle ever say why she’d come to Clainsworth?” I asked.
“No, but she asked a lot of questions about Crazy Old Sally.” Alex reached down to pet Shelby again.
“Who?” I looked at Bill for clarification.
“Sally Hayes. She lived at the edge of the town,” Bill replied.
“Why would she be asking questions about Sally?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Can I talk to this Sally?”
Bud shook his head. “No, you can’t talk to her, she’s dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. How did she die?”
“There was a fire in her house,” Bud’s mother said. “It was so sad.”
A shiver ran up my spine. “That’s awful.”
Alex put his hands high in the air. “It was a big fire. You could see it from our house and we live on the other side of the town.”
Just then the nurse came out and called Alex and Bud into the office. I looked at Bill. “Tell me about Sally.”
“Not much to tell.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“Okay. She and her husband, James, were both born here. They both went away to college, but came back and got married. They lived in a house on the outskirts of town. Her husband ran the local lumber yard and she was the town librarian.”
“What caused the fire?”
“Never found out. It was just an accident.”
“Why do they call her Crazy Old Sally?”
“After her husband, James, died, Sally went a little crazy. She became paranoid and stopped taking care of herself and everything else. Eventually the lumberyard closed and she barely ever left her home.”
Sometimes loosing a loved one could leave a person so scarred that they stop living too. But thinking about what Alex said, I asked, “What was different about the fire?”
“The flames shot at least a hundred feet into the air and it took the fire department seven days to finally put it out.” He shook his head.
“Why?”
“James used sawdust as the insulator in the walls. It did a great job of keeping the house cool in the summer and warm in the winter. But was almost impossible to put out when it caught fire. Finally they brought in a bulldozer and demolished the entire house.”
“What’s left of the house now?”
“Nothing.” He extended his hands as far as they could reach in both directions. “Except this huge hole where the house used to stand.”
“Wow.” It was the only thing I could think of to say. Could that be why she’d come to Clainsworth? Is it possible that Danielle was somehow related to Sally? Or did she just see the big hole and wonder what happened? Good questions – no answers. But it was a start.
A few minutes later the nurse called my name. Bill got up with me, but I put my hand out. “I think I can handle this by myself, Bill.”
“Okay.” He sat down in a huff and picked up his car magazine again.
As I walked toward the office door, I leaned back to Bill. “You’re still taking me to lunch, aren’t you?”
He smiled. “Of course.”
“Great. I’ll be right out.”
The nurse led me down a corridor and into an examination room. She took my blood pressure, temperature, and then asked me why I was there. I told her about the accident. She wrote the information on a health assessment sheet and put it into a file. Then she said the doctor would be right in to see me.
A few minutes later an elderly man with white hair, wrinkled face, and a wonderful smile walked in carrying my file. I felt better already.
He stuck out his hand. “Hello, my name is Doc Gordon.”
“Mine’s Liza Wilcox.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Liza.” He opened the file folder. “I see you’ve been in an automobile accident.”
“I’m a
fraid so.” I gave him a slight smile. “But I’m in much better shape than my car.”
He laughed. “Let me be the judge of that.” He examined my bruises, head, pulled on my arms and legs, and thumped on my back. As he worked he talked. “Are you here for the festival?”
Wow, that’s deja vu. I’ve certainly been asked that before. It was time to get some information. “Not exactly. My friend, Danielle Slammers, was killed here several months ago. I came up to find out what happened.”
Doc raised his eyebrows at me. “The stabbing at the inn?”
“Yes.”
“They never found out who did it.”
“No and that’s why I’m here. I thought if someone came up and made some inquiries, maybe they’d work a little harder on the case.”
The doctor frowned. “I think they worked it as hard as they could. They didn’t have much to go on.”
“Oh, I’m not saying that they didn’t. I just wanted more answers, so I came here.” I’d already insulted the local cops, so I might as well push forward. “Bill tells me you’re also the coroner.”
“Yes. I do a little of it all.” He turned my leg and pushed it toward my hip.
“Was there anything unusual in Danielle’s autopsy?”
“Not really. Just a couple of stab wounds. The second one punctured her heart.” He patted me on the shoulder. “She died quickly and without too much pain.”
I lowered my head. “That’s good.”
“I met Alex and Bud in the waiting room. They told me they had Sadie, Danielle’s beagle.”
He laughed. “That little beagle sure likes to get into things. That’s how I met Danielle.”
“What do you mean?”
“She brought Sadie into the office because she’d gotten into something at the park and was vomiting.”
“Was it serious?”
“No, not really. I gave Danielle something to help settle Sadie’s stomach but other than that there wasn’t much I could do. With beagles it usually passes through eventually.”
“Bud told me that Danielle was interested in a woman named Sally. Did she ask you about her?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“I didn’t think that Danielle had any relatives up here.”
“Oh, Sally wasn’t a relative, just someone Danielle heard about and was interested in.”