African Violet Club Mystery Collection

by Elise M Stone

  Not too much later, she heard the wail of a siren coming up the drive. As she scurried down the hall to meet the chief, she heard the shrill peal of the night bell. Of course. The door was still locked. It was too early for Beverly to be at the front desk. As she headed down the hall to open the door, she heard Russ Ellison’s voice.

  “What’s going on?” Ellison asked.

  “You tell me,” Cartwright responded. “I got a call from dispatch that there’s been another murder.”

  By this time, Lilliana had reached the lobby. “This way, Chief.”

  The two men turned to look at her, then followed her to the elevator.

  “What’s going on?” Ellison repeated.

  “It’s Miguel,” Lilliana said through tight lips. The elevator slowly rose to the second floor.

  “What happened to Miguel?” the retirement community owner asked as the elevator doors opened.

  “He’s been stabbed.” Rather than giving any more details, Lilliana led the way down the hallway. Almost every door was open, and senior citizens garbed in pajamas and bathrobes loitered in the intervening space, asking one another what happened and trying to get a closer look at what was going on.

  Ellison pushed past Lilliana and shouldered his way through the crowd, the chief close behind him. He stopped when they got to the point where they could see Miguel’s body, but the chief sped up. Lilliana followed at the rear.

  It didn’t take long for Cartwright to confirm her assessment of the situation. “Who found him?”

  “Nancy did,” Lilliana replied. “But she was feeling faint, so I had Mary take her into her apartment so she could sit down.”

  “I’ll need to talk to her,” Cartwright said. “But first I’m going to need a crime scene unit out here. Hang the budget.” The last he muttered to himself, but the words were clearly audible to Ellison and Lilliana.

  The chief pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit a speed dial number. After he’d finished speaking, he looked around helplessly at the throng clogging the hallway, including Russell Ellison. “How am I going to keep people from polluting the crime scene?”

  “I’ll take care of that.” Ellison appeared relieved to have something to do. He raised his voice and addressed the crowd. “Everyone go back into your unit. I’ll make arrangements to have breakfast delivered to you.”

  Then he turned to the chief. “That should keep them busy for a while.”

  Ellison was right. The only thing that the elderly residents would be more interested in than the body was food. Proving her point, almost all of them turned back and entered their apartments, probably to hover inside waiting the arrival of the staff with the promised breakfast. Everyone except Lenny, who had had time to make his way over from the north wing to see what all the ruckus was about.

  “What’s going on, Lily?” he whispered from a few feet away.

  “Later,” she mouthed back at him. The Higginses, along with Frank and some faces Lilliana didn’t recognize, came up behind Lenny. Sarah raised herself on tiptoe to peer over Lenny’s shoulder, then gasped.

  “Mr. Ellison, can you please do something to keep people away?” Chief Cartwright said, exasperation filling his voice.

  Ellison started shepherding them down the hall, repeating his announcement that breakfast would be served in their apartments. He followed them, probably to inform the kitchen staff of their extra duties this morning.

  Cartwright spoke to Lilliana. “You know, my uncle promised me this would be an easy job. ‘Nothing ever happens in Rainbow Ranch,’ he said. Until the retirement community opened. Now we seem to have the murder-of-the-week club.” His chin sank to his chest.

  Lilliana felt sorry for the young man. He’d been unfortunate enough to be the mayor’s sister’s son. When Ellison promised to fund a police department in return for getting approval to build the retirement community, nepotism had allowed Chad Cartwright to assume a position he really wasn’t qualified to fill. He was nice enough, but, according to Willie, who had worked with him at the Tucson Police Department, probably not up to the task of police chief—especially when he was the only cop in town.

  Cartwright took a deep breath, then let it out. “Would you mind making sure no one comes out in the hall while I go get the crime scene tape?”

  “Not at all, Chief.” She watched as he shuffled down the hallway and wished she could help him. Well, of course she was helping him by looking into Ruby’s murder, and she supposed she’d ask a few more questions about Miguel’s, but he needed comforting. She doubted he’d let her mother him.

  Of course, she already had an idea of how to fill that need. Not the comfort of a mother, but of someone closer to his own age. She still thought the chief and Kirstie would make a very nice couple. He’d be much better for Kirstie than that gorilla of a boyfriend of hers.

  The elevator dinged and the chief exited carrying a bright yellow roll of crime scene tape, which he proceeded to string across the hall.

  Maybe she’d go see if Kirstie was in yet, find out how things were going with the boyfriend. The chief had his back to her. After isolating the area around the body with crime scene tape, he had started taking photographs. He wouldn’t know whether she’d gone back to her apartment or elsewhere.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE door to the clinic was open and the lights were on, a sure sign Kirstie had arrived. The nurse stood in front of the unlocked medications cabinet, pulling down one bottle or box after another and portioning out the daily doses to distribute to the residents. As was her routine, she checked each one against the sheet on a clipboard that lay in front of her.

  “Good morning, Kirstie,” Lilliana said cheerily.

  “Oh, good morning, Mrs. Wentworth,” Kirstie said. “I’m glad you stopped by. I noticed Chief Cartwright’s SUV out in front and was wondering what he’s doing here. I suppose if anyone knows that, it would be you.”

  Lilliana bristled at the notion that she was a busybody, but then thought maybe she was being too sensitive. Besides, she had an objective she needed to accomplish. She smiled sweetly, but sensitively. “So you haven’t heard?”

  Kirstie shook her head.

  “I hate to be the first one to tell you, but there was another murder last night.”

  “Oh, no. Who was it? And who could have done such a thing?”

  Lilliana shook her head. “I have no idea who did it. I don’t think Chief Cartwright does either. Terrible thing.” She glanced down at the clipboard. “And how are you this morning?” She pointedly looked at Kirstie’s black eye, which was no longer black, but mostly a ghastly yellow color with a few streaks of purple.

  Kirstie, embarrassed, averted her eyes. “I’m fine, Mrs. Wentworth.”

  “I hope you’ve given that boyfriend of yours the boot.” From the look on Kirstie’s face, she hadn’t.

  “You know, there are plenty of nice young men in this town, once you get outside the retirement community. Take that Mike Armstrong down at the garage...”

  “Mike? I thought he was married,” Kirstie said.

  Oops! Lilliana hadn’t known that, hadn’t asked. It didn’t seem like the kind of question you’d ask your mechanic. She decided to go right for what she had in mind. “Well, there’s also Chief Cartwright. Nice looking, has a steady job”—especially if the murders kept up at the current rate—“seems solid, you know.” She paused and waited for Kirstie’s response.

  “Listen, Mrs. Wentworth, I know you mean well, but my love life is personal. Now what can I do for you?”

  For the first time in her life, Lilliana wished she took more medications. She’d asked Kirstie for some Aleve just the other day, and the nurse would be suspicious if she asked for more so soon. “Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came to tell you that the Chief told everyone to stay in their rooms this morning, so you can deliver their medications there.”

  Lilliana raised her head a bit, trying to find a position where she could read the list on the clip
board. Kirstie noticed and quickly placed the flat of her palm on top of it.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wentworth.”

  Not able to think of anything else to say, Lilliana turned and left the clinic. There must be some way to get her hands on that medication list.

  There was nothing for Lilliana to do but return to her apartment. She needed to break the news to the fairies that she wouldn’t be taking them to Esmeralda this morning anyway. She hoped Tam Lin wouldn’t be too upset, wouldn’t lead an assault on her and try to escape the plant room. She had enough trouble without a troop of escaping fairies to worry about.

  As she swung around the corner from the clinic into the lobby, she saw there was a new development: Biff Buckley and his cameraman were interviewing Beverly, the only person available at this time. Beverly looked painfully uncomfortable under the bright light streaming from the camera.

  “I told you, Mr. Buckley, I can’t tell you anything. You’ll have to speak with Mr. Ellison.”

  “So where is he?” Buckley asked, his tone insistent, as if he’d asked the question before and not gotten a satisfactory answer.

  “As you can imagine, he’s quite busy this morning. He’s not answering his phone, but I’ll tell him you’d like to see him as soon as I hear from him.” Beverly pushed her bangs back off her forehead and held her hand in front of her face to shade her eyes from the spotlight. “And can you please turn that light off?”

  Lilliana saw Sam Horn come in the door and head for Beverly’s desk. Poor Beverly. He gave Lilliana a nod. Buckley’s cameraman turned off the camera and lowered it to his side. Biff turned away from the desk, discouraged, but brightened when he saw Lilliana.

  “Mrs. Wentworth.”

  Drat. He’d remembered her name, which meant he probably remembered her involvement with the previous murders and her relationship with the chief of police.

  “I have nothing to say, young man.”

  “Have you spoken with Chief Cartwright this morning? Can you tell me why he’s here?”

  Lilliana had a feeling Buckley already knew why the chief was here. She was certain the newsman monitored the police scanner and had heard the report of another murder. “No comment.”

  “Ah! So you do know why he’s here.” Buckley said.

  Sam, having been no more successful with Beverly than Buckley had been, was observing the exchange in hopes of picking up information for the paper.

  “I’m sure Chief Cartwright has everything under control,” Lilliana said.

  “Joey, I want to get this on tape,” Buckley said to his cameraman, who raised the camera to his shoulder and started shooting again.

  “I hear you’re the one who called the police,” Buckley said.

  Lilliana tried to gauge how easy it would be to do an end-run around the reporter and dash down the hall to her apartment. Then she imagined how she’d look on television as the camera followed her flight. “I made the call to 9-1-1,” she admitted.

  “What time did you discover the body?” Buckley asked.

  Humph. He’d just admitted he knew about the murder. She supposed it was no use trying to stonewall him on that. But she could tell the literal truth. “I didn’t discover a body.”

  “Who did then?” Buckley pressed.

  She hadn’t meant to get Nancy involved. She wouldn’t get Nancy involved if she could help it. The poor woman would probably have a breakdown if Buckley shoved a mic in her face and had Joey turn the spotlight on her. “One of the other residents,” she said noncommittally.

  Kirstie entered the lobby pushing a cart with the med cups on top. A squeaking wheel drew Buckley’s attention away from Lilliana. Grateful for the temporary reprieve, Lilliana felt her tense muscles relax, leaving behind a dull ache. She hadn’t realized how stiffly she’d been standing. The she tensed again as Buckley ran to interrogate Kirstie before she disappeared down the hall.

  “Oh, miss,” he called out.

  Kirstie paused long enough for him to catch up with her.

  “Biff Buckley of YOUR-TV.” He flashed a mouth full of teeth at her. “I wonder if you could spare a few minutes to tell our viewers what happened here this morning.”

  Kirstie seemed flustered. Lilliana took a couple of steps in her direction, thinking to intervene. Then she saw the clipboard lying next to the tray on the cart. She edged closer.

  “I really don’t know anything,” Kirstie replied. “You’ll have to speak with Mr. Ellison.”

  Ellison had schooled his employees well. Knowing how much liability the retirement community might face in case of a misstep, he’d made a point of telling everyone—staff, volunteers, residents—never to speak to the press. After the first murder at Rainbow Ranch, he’d issued a reminder memo and posted them all over the main building, as well as having a copy placed in every resident’s mailbox.

  “And I will,” Buckley replied. “However, as a medical professional, I thought you might have some expert insight into what happened to Mr. Ibarra.”

  “Miguel? Something happened to Miguel?” Kirstie was visibly distressed, which was why Lilliana had avoided telling her who the victim was. Miguel was universally liked. Rainbow Ranch would miss him.

  Lilliana took another step closer to the cart.

  “I’m sorry, Miss...?”

  “Wallace. Kirstie Wallace.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Wallace. I thought you knew.” For once, Biff Buckley sounded sincere.

  Kirstie shook her head, then brushed a tear from her cheek.

  “Cut,” Buckley said to Joey. “I didn’t mean to upset you, miss.”

  This was a totally different side of Biff Buckley than Lilliana had seen before. He pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket and held it out to Kirstie. While the two of them were occupied, Lilliana risked a look at the medication sheet. She scanned down the list, looking for Xarelto. No luck. If anyone other than Willie was taking the medication, Kirstie wasn’t dispensing it. That was quite possible, since it came in pill form and was easily taken without supervision.

  Meanwhile, Kirstie and Biff were gazing at one another. That certainly would lead to no good. Lilliana was pretty sure of what the handsome television reporter’s motivation was. She’d better intervene before Kirstie got herself into trouble.

  “Don’t you think you should give people their medications, Kirstie?” she said sweetly.

  Kirstie turned red. “Yes. Yes, I’d better give them out now.” She hurried off, pushing the cart ahead of her.

  Biff watched her until she was out of sight, then turned to Lilliana again. “Sure you won’t give me an on-camera interview?”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  Just then the Crime Scene Unit van pulled up outside. Biff took one look at Joey, and the two of them dashed outside to start filming. And probably to harass the CSIs.

  Sam caught her eye from where he lounged against the reception desk. “Find out anything interesting?”

  “What do you mean?” Lilliana asked innocently.

  “I saw you reading Kirstie’s med sheet while she was otherwise occupied with our least favorite television reporter.”

  Lilliana sighed. “Unfortunately, no.” Then she gave Sam a mischievous smile. “Even if I had, what makes you think I’d tell you?”

  Sam grinned. “Nothing. But I had to ask.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  IT had been a long day. Nothing had gone according to plan. Chief Cartwright had declined her offer to help him in questioning the witnesses. The crime scene techs had finally finished their work around four in the afternoon. Until then, Lilliana had been imprisoned in her apartment, as had the rest of the residents of Rainbow Ranch Retirement Community. Finally they’d been allowed to go to the dining room for dinner. Of course, all anyone wanted to talk about was the latest murder. Everyone had a theory. No one had any facts.

  Tam Lin had been terribly annoyed at the delay in joining his fairy queen. When Lilliana brought him another meal of warm milk sweetened with h
oney, he’d threatened to escape and fly off on his own if she didn’t promise to take them to the queen right after dark. It was a risky plan. Lilliana would have much preferred to make the trip in early morning, when at least there’d be some light to see by. Truth be told, she would feel better once the new fairy troop and the brownies were safely tucked away inside the cave.

  At last the building quieted down, a few calls of goodnight echoing in the halls, the sound of doors closing, then silence. She picked up the cardboard box from the dining room table and carefully opened the door to her plant room. She was greeted with the tintinnabulation of tinkling voices, all complaining about being cooped up all day.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had to wait until we wouldn’t be seen.” She put the box on an empty shelf and pointed to it. “Now, if you’ll just get inside the box...”

  “We spent weeks in that bloody box,” Prince Tam Lin said. “I’m not going in there. You’ll probably forget about us, and we’ll be stuck again.”

  Lilliana was close to tears. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to get the fairies to their destination as quickly as she could. First the car wouldn’t go. Then she had to wait for the repairs. Then the murder of poor Miguel. Now the fairies wouldn’t cooperate and would surely be seen and their kingdom first discovered, then destroyed. What was she going to do? She closed her eyes and sobbed, letting the tears run down her face.

  A tiny hand patted her cheek while a bell-like voice sang softly near her ear. “There, there, lady. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Lilliana opened her eyes and saw Tam Lin, properly chagrined, hovering near her. “I didn’t mean to cry,” she said. “But if only you knew how hard this week has been...”

  “And for us, too,” the prince said. “But it’s almost over, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “So let’s get going,” Tam Lin said. He turned toward the troop perched on the shelves a few feet away. The brownies had come in from the kitchen and stood in the doorway. He took them in with his gaze as well. “Okay, everyone. Back in the box. We’re going to our new home.”