“I know.” He scribbled in the notebook again.
She cocked her head. “You were trying to trick me.”
“You need to tell me the next time you want to leave town.” She gave him a sheepish look. “How long were you in Magnolia? Where did you go?”
While she recounted her movements, I surreptitiously massaged the hand Trudy had crushed. With luck, I’d have feeling back in a week or two.
“Then I heard about a barbeque place,” she was saying, and her expression went euphoric. “The pies were to die for!”
I winced at her choice of words, but Shoar smiled.
“The Backyard Bar-B-Q. I know the place.”
“I have all my receipts to prove where I was, and my shopping bags are in the car.”
“What did you do the rest of the day?”
“I went to the county library and read a couple of romance novels.”
“You read a couple of books?” Eric said sharply. “In one afternoon?”
“I know I don’t come off as very bright, but I’m a fast reader. And I happen to like romance novels.”
I nearly cheered Trudy. Partly because she stood up for her reading preferences, partly because I like romance novels, too. What’s not to like about happily ever after? I didn’t make a peep, though. I didn’t want to interrupt the questioning. Not yet, but I had to fess up about confronting Clark. I just needed an opening.
“What time did you leave Magnolia?” he was asking Trudy.
“The library closed at six, so I went back to the barbeque place for more pie. I stopped for gas, so I guess I left about seven fifteen. I have that receipt, too.”
“Are you certain of the time?”
And there was my cue.
“Detective Shoar, I talked to Clark in the café about seven. A little more than an hour before I heard Trudy scream.”
He stopped making notes and whipped his attention to me. “You’re just telling me this now?”
I shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”
The ambulance siren pulsed once just as he muttered something under his breath I didn’t quite catch. As the truck rolled out the far end of the alley, people parted for it to pass, but closed ranks again. Uniformed police and deputies kept them back while the crime scene techs, who’d arrived as Eric approached us, began setting up lights to do their investigation.
He told Trudy to wait, then took my elbow to steer me far enough away to talk more privately. “What is your part in this, Nixy?”
I flexed my hand to stimulate circulation.
“Other than being a crying post, I have no part.”
“Come again?”
“When I got to the alley, Trudy was standing on the driver’s side of the car at the front bumper. She threw her arms around my neck and cried, and that’s all I had to do with finding Clark.”
“But you talked to him at seven. Why?”
“Trudy called me earlier, but I couldn’t reach her when I called back. I saw Clark in the café, and he gave me a minute to see if Trudy was upstairs.”
“She wasn’t there?”
“No, but I asked Clark some questions when I came back down.”
I related our confrontation, and he looked ready to bite my head off when I finished. I quickly repeated the salient point. “I think Clark knew who killed Elsman. Or at least suspected someone.”
“And now he’s on the way to the ER. Is there a lesson here? Aha, there is. You could be next if you don’t stop asking questions.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Detective.”
His jaw dropped, then he turned away and cursed under his breath. Rather colorfully, too.
“So can I leave?”
He visibly gathered his patience. “You going back to the concert?”
“To the hospital. Sherry and the ladies went over there to be with Lorna, and I told them I’d come, too.”
He glanced at Trudy, who stood staring into space, wringing her hands.
“Can you take Trudy with you, then bring her back to the inn later?”
“You don’t need to question her more?”
“I’ll do my job, but I don’t think she’s involved other than discovering Clark in the alley. I’ll get her keys and move her car when the team is finished collecting evidence.”
I didn’t answer him. I was thinking. Lorna would have enough stress without Trudy’s hysterics. So if I was taking Trudy along, she’d have to calm down. I hoped Aster had her lavender spray handy.
“Nixy? Will you take Trudy, or should I find a policewoman to sit with her awhile?”
“I’ll take her.”
“Good.”
He spoke a few words to Trudy, then went to her car. He came back with her purse but asked permission to go through it first. Satisfied she didn’t have any evidence stashed in it, he handed it over and went to watch the crime scene team.
• • •
THE HOSPITAL WAS ONLY TWO PLUS BLOCKS, BUT as we neared the ER, Trudy’s teeth chattered. Must have been shock because the air temperature wasn’t that cool. I touched her arm lightly.
“What’s wrong?”
She startled. “I don’t have good memories of the hospital. And I was thinking that I know now what it must’ve been like for you to find Jill’s body. Horrifying.”
I managed not to shudder. “At least Clark Tyler is alive.”
“I sure hope he’ll recover. I don’t much care for him, but Lorna is nice.”
My snoopy sense went on alert. “Any reason you don’t like Clark?”
She shrugged. “He’s unfriendly. Gruff. Plus I overheard Jill say something about having taken care of him and that he’d do what she wanted.”
“Trudy!” I exploded. “Why didn’t you tell the detective this?”
“I didn’t remember it until today,” she said, her tone defensive. “She was on the phone. She said the name Tyler, but that was it.”
The hospital was in sight now, but I slowed my steps, mulling that information. Trudy slowed, too, and then I stopped.
“Is this why you called me today?”
“No. When I went to the library, before I started reading, I looked around. They have a large collection of state and local historical records. I saw some old yearbooks and remembered that Jill had a folded-up yearbook page in her binder.”
“You said you never saw the inside of the binder.”
“I know, but it was just once. It was last Sunday, and you know how angry Jill was that day. She ran over the sapling.”
“I remember.”
“Jill had thrown the binder in the backseat. When we got to the inn again, she told me to get it. The back cover was open and that’s when I saw the page.”
“Okay, what kind of page?” I asked, thinking back to my yearbooks. “Rows of class photos? A picture of a club or an event? Could you tell if it was from a high school or college?”
“Class photos in rows, and the people looked more college-aged than high school. The thing is, Jill had circled one. I didn’t see it but for maybe ten seconds, but the name stuck with me. Trudy, like me, and Whitman like the author. And Jill had written ‘RIP’ beside the photo.”
“You don’t think your cousin killed a college kid, do you?”
“What? No, but there’s some connection to all this or Jill wouldn’t have had that page in her work binder. She wasn’t the slightest bit sentimental.”
“Did you meet anyone in town who could’ve been an older Trudy Whitman? I hate to say it, but your cousin could’ve written ‘RIP’ for some reason other than this girl being deceased.”
“Like a sick joke? It’s possible. This is why I didn’t want to talk to Detective Shoar about it. He has the binder, so if the page is there, he knows about it and I look like a ninny. But if it’s gone—”
“Then did your cousin remove it, or did someone else?”
“I thought before I talk to the detective, you could do a search for Trudy Whitman. Just to see if I should bother reporting it at all.”
The ER doors whooshed open, and I realized we needed to get in there before Sherry sent troops to track me down.
“Tell you what. I’ll think about this and get back to you. For now, let’s go see about Lorna.”
I immediately spotted her in the waiting room. Not hard to do since Lorna and the ladies of the Six were the only people there. Sherry held Lorna’s hand, and the ladies sat on either side of them. Trudy and I said hello, murmured our concerns. Lorna was too distraught to do more than nod. In fact, she looked like a woman with one foot off a high ledge.
I slipped into a seat beside Aster, and Trudy took the one next to me.
“Do you have lavender spray with you?”
She smiled. “Already used it, though I can’t say it helped.”
It must not have, because Lorna let out a wail.
“Oh no. The book club luncheon is tomorrow. That’s why Clark worked late. To prep for the Saturday menu and clean the café. The book club prepaid. If I have to cancel, I’ll have to repay them, and I don’t have the money just now. I’ll have to close the café entirely.”
“Now, Lorna, you must stay positive,” Sherry soothed. “About Clark and about the café.”
“But I can’t. Clark has been gambling again. On the Internet.” She paused for only a second before it all came tumbling out. “I found out for sure today, even though I knew we’d been bleeding money. We had a terrible fight. I told him he’d better not have borrowed against the business. It’s all I have left of my family.”
She looked fierce for a moment, then crumpled. “He said he’d made some back and put it in the bank, but I don’t know how he won a dime. He hasn’t got a lucky bone in his whole body.”
“But he does, Lorna,” Sherry said stoutly. “He has you.”
“If he lives,” Lorna whispered. Her anger had drained, her voice plaintive and frightened.
“Now, Lorna, you just heave to with that thinking,” Maise scolded. “Don’t worry about the café or the luncheon. We can run the show for you tomorrow.”
“That’s right,” Sherry jumped in. “It’s Saturday, and we don’t have a thing planned, do we, girls?”
Sherry looked to Eleanor and Aster for confirmation, and they all jumped in quickly and with reassuring enthusiasm.
“I do believe we’d be happy to help,” Eleanor declared.
“Maise and I can cook anything on your menu.”
“That’s right,” Sherry said. “Fred can be in charge of drinks and run the counter, and Dab and Nixy and I will serve and bus tables.”
“I’ll be happy to help, too, Mrs. Tyler.”
That got Lorna’s attention. She stared at Trudy, who eagerly nodded.
“I waited tables in college. I was good at it.”
Lorna met our gazes. “The desserts are made.”
“We know.”
“And the potpies are prepared. They’re on a tray in the large freezer, ready to defrost and reheat.”
“Potpies?” Maise echoed.
“Dana likes the luncheon menus to tie into their reading selection.” Lorna gave Maise a weak smile. “Everything else for the Saturday menu should be prepped. If Clark finished before he was—”
Sherry put her arm around Lorna’s shoulders. “Hush, now. Whatever needs doing, we’ll take care of it. Here, give me your set of business keys right now before we get distracted. I’ll call Dana and let her know the luncheon is still on. You just concentrate on yourself and Clark.”
Lorna’s spirits rallied, and she pulled her purse from under the waiting room chair to unhook keys from a D ring attached to the strap.
“Thank you. Thank you all. You make me remember I’m not alone.”
Two separate doors whooshed open a moment later, and we all turned our attention to the men who’d entered the waiting room. Detective Shoar strode in from outside, and a doctor came through the ER doors. The same doctor who had treated Sherry. The men exchanged a nod, and the doctor headed toward our group with the detective on his heels. Maise stood to give the doctor her chair beside Lorna. He pointedly eyed the rest of us, but no one moved. He ran a hand through his short hair and sat.
“How is he?” she asked in a small voice.
“Mr. Tyler has a concussion, broken ribs, and he may have damage to his liver or spleen,” he said slowly, seeming to weigh his words. “He’ll be under observation for at least a few days, unless he should need surgery.”
“No offense, Doctor, but does he need to go to a larger hospital?” she asked. “Do you have everything you need here to treat him?”
“At the moment, we do. If he needs surgery, we’ll transfer him.”
“Is he awake now?”
“He regained consciousness for a few minutes, but he’s resting.”
“Did he say what happened? Did he get hit by a car? Was he mugged?”
“I’m afraid he wasn’t coherent.” The doctor glanced at Shoar. “You’ll have to ask the detective here what happened.”
“Detective?” she said.
“We’re not sure yet, Lorna, but you mentioned mugging. Would he have had a cash bag with him tonight?”
She bit her lip. “Probably not.”
“Mrs. Tyler, your husband will be moved to ICU soon, and you can stay with him if you like. I’ll alert the nurses.”
“Yes, please. I want to be with him.”
The doctor went back into the ER, Shoar behind him, and for long minutes none of us moved. The only sound in the waiting room was the ER night clerk typing on her keyboard. I wondered what the doctor was telling Eric that he didn’t tell Lorna. Not that I imagined he was withholding information about Clark’s medical status. Rather I thought he was giving an opinion about how Clark got the injuries.
I finally filled the silence. “Well, if we’re running the café tomorrow, I should get Trudy back.”
“She’s right. With all hands on deck tomorrow, we need to hit the rack early.”
“Here, child,” Sherry said, and taking my Camry keys from her jacket pocket. “You drop Trudy off, and come back for us.”
• • •
MY CELL SHOWED THE TIME AS NINE THIRTY WHEN I pulled into the inn parking lot, and judging by the empty streets we’d traveled, the concertgoers had gone home.
The crime scene team had not. They were still at work when I pulled into the near-vacant parking lot and killed the engine.
“Where is Jeanette’s car?” Trudy fretted, scanning the lot and the street.
“The police probably parked it out of the way.”
“Or the crime scene people have to check it to see if I was telling the truth about braking in time.”
“Or that,” I agreed because there was no point denying it. Then I glanced in my rearview mirror. “Detective Shoar is already back here, so you can ask him.”
Eric jogged straight to the crime scene techs. Trudy sighed.
“Nixy, should I tell him about the yearbook page?”
“You need to make that call.”
“Can you look into it first? I don’t get a great Internet connection here at the inn.”
But I got great service at Sherry’s, and seeing Eric walking toward us, I made a snap decision. “I’ll see what I can find out, but you tell Detective Shoar about the page anytime you want to.”
“As you can see, the techs aren’t finished,” he said as we exited the car. “I’ll have to take you around the front to let you inside, Ms. Henry.”
“Call me Trudy, please.”
He gave her a short nod. “Nixy, you want to come?”
I was surprised by the invitation, but I shrug
ged. Maybe I could get more information out of him.
“Sure.”
“Where is my car?” Trudy asked as she walked us around to the square.
“We need to have a look at it in the daylight, so it’s at the station. I’ll bring it over as soon as they finish tomorrow. But,” he added, “I put your shopping bags inside.”
“You did?” Trudy beamed at him. “Thank you! I’m so tired of wearing the same clothes, I could scream.”
He fit the key in the lock and opened the front door with a flourish. Street light filtered through the large front windows, and an old-fashioned sconce lit the bottom steps with a low-wattage bulb. Even softer light shone from higher on the stairs.
“Your bags are over on the staircase, Trudy. Would you like us to walk you to your room?”
“Thanks, but I’ll go up on my own. The ghost will protect me.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“GHOST?”
“Yeah, I call him Cowboy. So what time should I be ready to work tomorrow?”
“Uh, by six, I think. Six thirty at the latest.”
“See you then.”
With that, Trudy clomped to the staircase, swept up her shopping bags, and climbed the steps. When the landing door thumped shut, I turned to Eric.
“Ghost?”
He grinned. “It’s a long-standing rumor.”
“I’m sure that’s all it is, but I saw a shadow Monday night when I brought Trudy home from the hospital.”
“Where was this shadow?”
“Outside the door on the landing up there. The one that leads from the inn down to the café. It’s a half-glass, half-wood door.”
“I know. You can’t see a thing through that glass.”
“Nothing but faint light and the shadow.”
“Interesting, but I can’t question a ghost. Come on, I need to get back.”
I preceded him out, watched him lock up and jiggle the knob.
“Where’d you get the café keys?”
“Fished them out of Clarke’s pocket. We needed to be sure the attack didn’t happen inside.”
“It didn’t,” I said, and he raised a brow at me. “If he’d been hurt that badly inside, but crawled to the alley, he wouldn’t have locked up.”
Silver Six Crafting Mystery 01 - Basket Case Page 22