We spent about half an hour or so with Stuart in the greenhouse listening to him explain some of the different plants. Paula took the lead of asking questions and trying to drag out the discussion so that I could try and take some pictures of the plants that looked like they might match those on the poison list. The longer we stayed, the guiltier I felt. How wrong was it of us to take advantage of Stuart’s hospitality?
“Stuart, thank you for showing us your plants, we should really be going,” I said, as I pulled Paula toward the greenhouse door.
“Thank you for all the food, Abby,” he said.
As Paula and I started climbing the hills back toward Main Street, she asked what my sudden hurry to get out of there was about.
“I feel terrible thinking that Stuart would hurt someone,” I said.
“To let us into the greenhouse he is either completely innocent, or he thinks we are completely stupid. I can’t figure out which it is, but you shouldn’t feel bad. No one feels bad accusing you of something you didn’t do. You are just trying to clear your own name and it’s okay to think of yourself.” She reassured me that checking out Stuart’s greenhouse was the right thing to do, especially if it shifts some of the focus off me and forces the Sheriff to broaden his investigation.
“I just can’t believe Stuart would kill someone, but some of those plants looked a lot like the poisonous ones I found on the Internet,” I shrugged. It was a lot to think about. What if the plants matched? Then what? Would the Sheriff follow up on it? Would Stuart confess? I had so many questions that it made my head spin.
“He certainly doesn’t seem to be the kind that would kill someone, but then again how well do we really know anyone?”
“I still wonder what happened between Stuart and Mr. Sampson,” I huffed, as we chugged up the last hill.
Paula realized she never finished telling me what she learned from Bev at the bed and breakfast. She dove straight into the story, picking up where she left off when Toby took over.
Joan happened to be the first teacher Toby had when he entered school. He was, of course, very quiet and kept to himself. Toby was an above average student and chose to spend his lunchtime and recess with books rather than playing with the other students. Joan knew that something wasn’t right with Toby. What young boy doesn’t want to play with the other kids? Joan noticed that Toby never borrowed a book to take home. She explained to him that he could check them out, but he never did.
Finally, Joan sent a note asking to have a conference with his parents, and of course, only Mr. Sampson showed up at the school. He wasn’t happy about being there. He was even more unhappy about being questioned by what he called a “nosy do-gooder”. Evidently, he yelled at her and threatened her, telling her she would be sorry if she didn’t leave his son alone.
Mr. Sampson tried to have Toby moved out of Joan’s classroom, but unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done because at that time Joan taught all the children in Kindergarten, first, and second grades. At first, Joan didn’t say anything about the encounter. Instead, she tried harder to get Toby to engage with the other kids, purposefully creating lesson plans that would involve more group work. She watched as he chose to fail a project rather than work with the other kids. Joan had no choice but to give failing marks on his report card and braced herself for the backlash she knew would come in the form of Mr. Sampson.
As expected, Mr. Sampson descended on the school in a fit of rage wondering how the school could employ such an incompetent teacher as Joan. He demanded the grades be changed and that his son be moved to a different classroom even if it wasn’t the same grade. Mr. Sampson threatened Joan again, demanding that she stay away from his son and stay out of his business. The next day Stuart paid a visit to Mr. Sampson after Joan finally told him about the threats and admitting that she was scared.
Stuart and Mr. Sampson had quite the fight ending with Stuart spending the night in jail. Toby was moved to a different classroom where he could work on his own. Scholastically he thrived with excellent grades, and he read his way through the library.
“So Mr. Sampson was a piece of work, wasn’t he?” I wondered what happened to make him so hateful. Why would he even bother to marry and have a child?
“He sure was. No one liked that cranky old man. It was only a matter of time before someone did him in. I’m surprised it took as long as it did,” Paula said bluntly.
“So why would Stuart wait fifty years to kill the old man? That doesn’t make sense unless there is more to their feud.” I contemplated the story Paula related. None of this made sense. I needed to sit down and think everything through and see if or how any of the pieces fit together.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chapter 13
“I need to put together a basket of sandwiches or things to fix sandwiches and a few large to-go containers of soup for Stuart,” I told Julia, as we cleaned up from morning coffee and started prepping for lunch.
“Did you uncover anything interesting?” she asked. It was the first chance we had to talk since she arrived for the day.
“I spent half the night looking at pictures of plants online and comparing them to the pictures I took, and I can’t be definite if anything matches. I feel like one or two things match, then I look again and think maybe they don’t,” I shrugged.
“Are you going to say anything to the Sheriff?”
“Not yet; I’m not confident enough in any of it to make an accusation against someone. I know how it feels and I wouldn’t want anyone else to feel like this,” I told her. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I was getting more nervous each day. How could I prove that I’m innocent? Would anyone with any authority even listen to me and believe me, or are they just eager to wrap this up and lock me away?
“Are you taking the food to Stuart or do you want me to?” Julia asked as she finished packing up a box with the sandwich items and soup. We decided to pack enough to last them for a couple of days, so we didn’t have to bother them every day.
“Do you mind? Maybe you can see or hear something different than what Paula and I did yesterday.” Fresh eyes and ears might come up with something that would help me figure out if Stuart was involved in Mr. Sampson’s murder.
“I don’t mind at all. I was going to suggest maybe I would pick up on something that you missed,” she smiled, happy to be a part of things. “I’ll go now before the lunch crowd gets here, if that’s okay?”
“That works perfect, thank you.”
I walked Julia to the door and locked it after she left so that I could run upstairs and check the heat level. I learned my lesson about the cold and won’t let it get away from me again. I have things I want to do after I close the bakery and climbing in bed just to stay warm isn’t part of my plan.
A quick glance at my desk reaffirmed my need to have a warm place to work. Not only was I up to my elbows in the research of poisonous plants, but I was also behind on some research I was doing in preparation for writing my first historical romance novel. I was going to have to spend more evenings at home instead of going to dinner with Paula and Dan or any of the other local merchants that often stop in and invite me to join them for dinner.
It took me most of the last three years to get the bakery open and running somewhat smoothly and get the upstairs living space done and comfortable. I decided last fall that I was going to spend my downtime during the winter focused on writing. I had a good start until Mr. Sampson turned up dead. I really wanted to get back to it but knew that I wouldn’t be able to until this whole ugly mess was straightened out.
By the time Julia got back to the bakery, lunch was in full swing. Thankfully everyone that usually came in for lunch was back and no one was talking about Mr. Sampson anymore. I was happy not to be the topic of conversation and debate.
We had to pull out our back-up soup after running out of our daily special. Cream of broccoli is always popular, but so is the cream of potato and both go really well with the Gruyere, caramelized
onion, and bacon grilled cheese on rosemary sourdough bread. Our grilled cheese sandwiches are always popular. Because our space is somewhat limited, we only offer one type of grilled cheese each day and don’t do special orders. That way we can make them up ahead of time and grill them as they are ordered. We save our space for all the fresh ingredients we need for the deli sandwiches.
By the end of the day we were out of almost everything, which meant I would spend the next several hours prepping for tomorrow. Usually, we were able to keep up and do this throughout the afternoon, but today wasn’t one of those days. I wasn’t going to complain, except that I knew I wouldn’t get anything accomplished on my investigation into Stuart, or on my novel.
I pulled out the sourdough starter for the breads, muffins, and donuts. The starter had to be measured out and left overnight in a warm spot to make it active for baking the next morning. Because I was unsure of how the community would react to my being accused of possibly poisoning Mr. Sampson, I didn’t do the usual amount of baking earlier in the week and I was now behind with breads and rolls. Luckily, I had a stash of frozen bread that I could use for the grilled cheese sandwiches, so all I had to make was the bread for the regular sandwiches and the rolls. If needed, I knew Paula would jump in and help mix and shape the rolls in the morning - then it’s just a matter of baking everything.
Tonight I’d prepare the muffin batter, a scone batter, and the donut batter so I could bake those first thing in the morning. Once the early morning things were done, I could do the bread and rolls. It was always a bit of a juggle to get everything done on time, but we usually made it. Lucky for us there weren’t many early morning visitors. It’s been suggested that we would increase our morning traffic if we offered some breakfast sandwiches, but that wasn’t anything I wanted to try and do - at least, not yet.
I always enjoyed the end of the day after the bakery was closed and I could just bake and let my mind wander, which was something I desperately needed today. A couple of hours of measuring, mixing and thinking, and I was ready to go upstairs and continue learning about deadly plants. As I was on my way to make sure the front door was locked, Paula knocked.
“Whew, what a busy day today,” she gasped, and fell dramatically into the closest chair. “Best day in ages.”
“We were busy enough to run out of everything and had to use our back up supply,” I laughed.
“I wondered what you were still doing in here. So, tell me, did you get any more out of Stuart today when you took him food?”
“Actually, I had Julia take it. I thought maybe another opinion would help,” I shared with her.
“And? Did she find anything out?”
“Not really. She said Stuart wouldn’t open the door wide enough for her to see into the house and she could hear Joan crying in the background. She said it was eerie and Stuart was in a hurry for her to leave. Gave her money for the food and said to keep the change as a tip for delivering it.” Paula was all ears, leaning forward as if I was telling her a secret in a room full of people.
“Hmm, well, that doesn’t help us, does it?” she contemplated.
“Not really, except Julia asked if we noticed a big chain and lock on the barn door when we were there yesterday.”
“I don’t remember. I don’t know if I paid any attention to the barn. Kind of strange that she would notice something like that though, especially from the front porch.” Paula’s forehead wrinkled as she thought about the barn and if there was a big chain and lock on it.
“That’s what I thought too; somehow it caught her attention and stood out enough that she was curious about it. She wondered what they had that would require that kind of a chain and lock. I don’t know that I noticed anything yesterday either, but then again I was focused on the greenhouse.” I repeated what Julia said when she came back from making the food delivery.
“I was thinking about Toby and his story the other night and it made me wonder how Mrs. Sampson died, or if she really died, or if maybe she disappeared,” Paula wondered.
“Do you think that is something important?” I hadn’t given that any thought and wasn’t sure how it might play into the overall story. We knew that Toby found out from his teacher that his mother died, but he had never heard it from his dad. The only thing he knew for certain was that she disappeared one night, and he never saw her again.
“What if Toby knows more about his mom and came back and killed his dad?” She tossed her theory out for thought.
“You really don’t like him, do you?” I smirked.
“I don’t know him well enough to like or dislike him, but I know that I don’t trust him. I don’t think his arrival here is innocent. What if he needed money, came here, killed the old man so he could inherit everything, and is going to let you take the fall for it?” Paula blurted out. It was obvious she’d been thinking about Toby and his sudden appearance in town.
“Well, he didn’t even know what he’s inherited, so that would have been taking a really big chance. The other thing is, why would he have waited so many years to kill the old man?”
“Are you defending him now?” She winked to let me know she was teasing.
“Actually, I have to debunk your theory. The Sheriff said Toby got here the morning after I found Mr. Sampson.” I reminded her of the conversation I had with the Sheriff.
“Darn it, I guess he’s off the hook then,” she sighed, with a bit of disappointment.
“Now that you mention it and I recall my conversation with the Sheriff, he only said that Toby arrived the morning after I found Mr. Sampson. I wonder if he knows for sure that that is when Toby got here, or if that is just what he thinks. Maybe Toby got here, killed his father, and pretended that he came into town the next morning,” I mulled out loud.
“That’s confusing as heck, but I think I’m following you and I think it’s a strong possibility,” she said with a renewed enthusiasm. “
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chapter 14
“We’ll go to dinner tonight like we usually do on Wednesday nights, then you’ll offer to drop me off at the bakery, so nothing looks suspicious. We’ll drive up to Taylor, turn onto B street, drive past the house just to make sure no one is there, then park down the block and walk back.” I went over the plan with Paula.
“I think the weather is just bad enough that anyone staying at the bed and breakfast will already be in,” Paula said, as she looked over our list of things to consider.
“And you’re sure Bev won’t be looking out the window?” I asked.
“She said she goes to bed at 8:00 because she gets up early to get the breakfast ready. Her bedroom faces the other way, too,” Paula reassured me.
After stewing over the possible discrepancies in Toby’s story, we decided we needed to take a look at Mr. Sampson’s house, now that we knew where it was. We had no idea what we were looking for but knew if we were going to go look, we needed to do it while Toby was out of town. Paula and I each made a list of concerns and things to consider, and then combined the lists to make sure we had everything covered.
“Now, if the weather will just cooperate until we are done,” Paula sighed. The weather here can change in an instant; it isn’t unheard of to have all four seasons in one day, and with a winter storm predicted to hit around midnight we knew we needed to be careful. It could be here any time after noon.
“If it gets nasty, we’ll just call it off; no need to take any chances.” I promised we would not do anything crazier than what we were already planning.
By the time the lunch crowd thinned out, my nerves set in. I started rethinking our insane plan to go looking around the old man’s house. When it was finally time to meet Paula for dinner, I had all but talked myself out of going. But if I didn’t go, I would never know, and after all, it is my life on the line.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Paula. What if we get caught?” I asked as I shrugged out of my coat.
“When did it become against the law to take
a walk?” she laughed.
“Oh, come on, who would ever believe that you and I were simply out for a walk after dark, in the snow?” I needed someone to either completely talk me out of this crazy scheme or make me feel better about doing it.
“That’s the thing, no one else will be out and around to see us. It’s a perfect night.” She tried to keep me on board with the plan.
My nerves settled a bit as we took our time having dinner, enjoying the Friday night crowd and the first set of music from the band that was performing. Some of the locals were in for the evening, along with others I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t long before people started leaving and we felt like it was a good time for us to go, too.
We followed our plan - Paula pretending she was going to drop me off at the bakery and turning onto Taylor, then onto B Street. As slow as we could, we cruised down the street with Paula pointing out the bed and breakfast on the right side of the street and the old man’s house on the left. The bed and breakfast had a porch light on, but no other inside light. The old man’s house was completely dark.
“See, the one side of Sampson’s house is all trees and shrubs, and the other side has a tall fence with an empty lot on the other side,” Paula pointed out.
The way the town is laid out, the properties are generally very small with little to no back yard. The next street up had houses on only one side of the narrow street. This meant there was no house behind Sampson’s house. No wonder they could live there without anyone knowing their business. If you weren’t directly across the street, you would never see anyone come or go, which is what we were counting on.
Paula parked the car around the corner in the dark, hoping no one would drive by and recognize it. We climbed the hill and made our way toward the dark house. Looking at the house as we approached gave me chills. It was probably just me, but I thought it was very creepy looking. The trees and shrubs were overgrown, the fence was falling down in different spots, the shutters on the front were falling off, and the paint had been peeling for years.
Murder on Main Street Page 7