by J A Whiting
“Think back on it, would you?” Angie asked. “Was it recently that the professor went to see Jack Ford?”
“About a month ago, I’d say.” Betty rubbed her chin. “I think it was something about her father.”
“The professor’s father? Why?”
“I think so. Yes. I can’t remember about what though. Maybe she never told me.” Betty watched Davis Williams enter the dining room. “I’ll talk to you later, Angie. I have some business to discuss with Davis.” She made a beeline for Williams.
Jenna and Tom came over to Angie.
“Well, someone’s lost in thought,” Tom said.
Angie jumped. “I didn’t hear you come up.” She leaned in towards Tom and her sister and told them what Betty had just said about Jack Ford and the professor.
“That’s strange,” Jenna said. “What would the professor have to ask about her father?”
“How would Ford know anything about the professor’s father?” Tom glanced over at Ford. “Her father must have died like fifty years ago.”
Jenna followed Tom’s gaze. “Maybe Betty’s confused about what the professor said. Maybe she heard it wrong.”
“I don’t know.” Angie had a faraway look in her eyes.
“Angie?” Jenna said.
Angie blinked. “Where’s Euclid?”
Tom looked puzzled. “Why do you want the cat?”
Angie turned for the dining room just as Jenna said, “Last I saw, he was on top of the China cabinet.”
Angie left the living room, crossed the foyer, and walked into the dining room. Courtney came up to Angie and said, “Here, let me take that plate from you.”
“What?” Angie asked. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” She handed Betty’s used plate and fork to Courtney.
Angie looked up at Euclid who was sitting on the cabinet glaring at everyone. The cat shifted its attention to Angie. Angie had a strange feeling run through her body when she was talking to Betty about the professor. Something made her want to find Euclid, but now standing there looking up at him, she had no idea what she wanted. Angie shook herself.
Courtney came into the room carrying a stack of clean plates and as she passed Angie, she paused and said, “You okay? You’ve got a weird look on your face.”
Angie forced a smile. “I just wanted to be sure Euclid was behaving.” She reached out. “Here let me help you with those dishes.”
***
Late afternoon light filtered in through the Victorian’s windows as people began to head home from the reception. Ellie stood in the living room excitedly explaining to several people the plans for the bed and breakfast. Jenna was talking with a woman from Sweet Cove who ran a gift shop down by the point. The woman was interested in carrying some of Jenna’s jewelry line and she was arranging an appointment to view some of the pieces. Courtney and Angie carried trays of dishes and glasses into the kitchen and set them on the table to wait until the latest dishwasher load had finished.
“Woo,” Courtney let out a breath as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “That was a lot of work. I should have stayed at school and let you do everything,” she joked.
“Thanks for your help. You’re a hard worker.” Angie hugged her sister. “It was a very nice remembrance for the professor. I’m glad we did it.”
“You were very kind to plan it.” A man’s voice spoke and the girls spun around surprised to see Josh Williams standing in the kitchen.
“Josh.” Angie crossed the space to him. “Can we get you something?”
Josh was about to speak, when Angie remembered her promise to give him a tour of the Victorian. “Oh. The tour. Come in.” She stretched her arms out indicating the dirty dishes and pots and pans that covered almost all of the counter space. “So, this is the kitchen.” She chuckled. “A huge mess.”
Josh laughed. “It’s great.”
“Not the best time to see this room.” Angie placed her hand on his upper arm to steer him out of the disaster area. His solid biceps were evident beneath her fingers and her breath caught in her throat. She had to swallow hard before she spoke again. “I’ll show you the parts of the house that don’t look like a hurricane just blew through them.”
“The kitchen doesn’t always look like this?” Josh teased.
Courtney called after them. “Don’t let Angie fool you. It does always look like this.”
The dishwasher beeped to indicate the latest washing cycle had completed. Courtney sighed wondering how everyone else managed to be absent when it was time to unload and load the dishwasher.
***
Angie showed Josh the music room, the sunroom, the library, a den, and then returned to the living room. He commented on the layout of the home, the antiques and other furnishings and told Angie how lucky she was to be able to live in the Victorian.
“I’ll show you the second floor.” Angie led him into the foyer and was about to start up the stairs, when Jenna called to her that her phone was ringing. Courtney hurried over to her sister to hand her the cell phone.
Angie answered and her face went pale. “Yes.” She listened and then said, “Yes, that would be fine. I understand.” She clicked off and stared down at the phone for several seconds.
Jenna noticed the expression of distress on Angie’s face. “Who was that? What’s wrong?”
Angie sighed. “It was a Detective Matthews. I have an appointment with him tomorrow. He wants to discuss Professor Linden’s death with me.”
No one spoke for a moment, and then Jenna stepped close to her sister and put her hand on Angie’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
“I’ll go to the police station with you,” Courtney said.
Angie gave a slight shake of her head. “No. Tomorrow’s Monday. You and Ellie need to head back to Boston early in the morning. I’m just going to talk with him. That’s all.” She smiled trying to reassure her sisters, but she had to blink back some tears that were threatening to fall. She tried to joke when she told them, “He isn’t going to throw me in prison tomorrow.”
Angie’s heart sank. I hope he isn’t, anyway.
Chapter 10
Early the next morning, Jenna went to the bake shop to help Lisa with the early morning rush so that Angie could head for the police station to keep her appointment with the detective. As Angie climbed the steps and approached the front door of the station, her knees were shaking and her legs wobbled. She chastised herself for feeling so queasy and nervous. She was innocent, but acting so unsure and afraid would not convince any law enforcement officer that she had nothing to do with Professor Linden’s death.
Walking into the tiny lobby, Angie forced herself to push her shoulders back and straighten her posture. She approached the front desk and asked for Detective Matthews in a clear, loud voice. Almost too loud, since the receptionist looked like she wondered why Angie was shouting.
Angie cleared her throat and lowered her volume. “I’m Angie Roseland. I have an appointment with the detective.”
Angie turned towards the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The man was tall, about Angie’s age, with broad shoulders and a determined manner. “Miss Roseland? I’m Detective Matthews.”
“Nice to meet you. Please call me Angie.”
They shook and the detective ushered Angie into a small conference room off the main hallway. The room was plain and harshly lit and a scratched, plastic table and two old, wooden chairs sat in the center of the space. The detective indicated with his hand that Angie should take one of the chairs. The detective sat opposite her across the table.
“So, Miss Roseland. Angie.” He pushed a button on a tape recorder that was sitting in the middle of the table. “Detective Ron Matthews is speaking with Angela Roseland.” He stated the date, time and place of the interview.
“Would you state your name and address, please.”
Angie did. She tried to take even breaths to calm her hammering heart and skittering nerves.
“What is your occupation?” The
detective’s pen was poised over a page of his notebook.
“I own the Sweet Dreams Bake Shop. I work there every day. Until around 3pm. Sometimes I’m there later getting ready for the next morning.”
“Do you work there alone?”
“I have an employee, Lisa Barrows. And often my sisters help out.”
“How long have you had the store?”
“Only a year. The building has new owners now, so I have to vacate the premises in a couple of weeks. The new owners will be replacing the space with something else.”
“Will you be moving the business to another location in Sweet Cove?”
“I don’t have firm plans as of yet.” Angie thought it best not to talk about moving the shop to the Victorian.
“Did you attend college?”
“Yes, I went to MIT. I have a degree in chemistry.”
The detective’s eyebrows went up. “Chemistry?” He leveled his eyes at Angie. “You’re aware, Miss Roseland, that Professor Linden was poisoned?”
Angie nodded, her face was serious. “Chief Martin told me.”
The detective leaned slightly forward. “Did he tell you what was used to poison her?”
Angie shook her head. “No. He didn’t.” Under her shirt, a bead of sweat rolled down her back.
Detective Matthews narrowed his eyes. “Since you majored in chemistry, would you like to have a guess what was found in Professor Linden’s body?”
“I would not.” Angie met the detective’s eyes. “I didn’t study how to poison people.”
“It’s interesting that Professor Linden died shortly after leaving your shop.” The detective leaned back in his chair. “Who made her beverages that day?”
“I was the one who made the professor’s first coffees of the day. She always requested that I make them.” Angie was quiet for a few moments. “I’m not sure who made her other drink though.” She thought back to the day. “The professor always had the same thing every morning. She would sit at one of the tables and have a bakery item and a mocha latte. Some of the regulars would sit at her table and talk. They’d come and go. She might read the paper for a little while or a book she brought with her. She’d stay for about an hour and then when she was ready to leave, she always had a hazelnut latte to go.” Angie’s eyebrows knitted together as she pondered the last morning that the professor was in the bake shop. “I don’t know. I don’t know who made the take-out drink.”
The detective sighed. “Who was working that day?”
“Me. Lisa. My sister, Courtney. She’s a senior in college. She came up for the weekend.” Angie folded her hands and rested them on the table. “It doesn’t really matter who made the drinks. Lots of people could have accessed them. People sat with the professor at her table to talk with her. Just about anyone could have slipped something into her drink.”
“Professor Linden left her Victorian home to you in her will, along with a substantial amount of money.”
Angie nodded.
The detective frowned. “Why did she?”
Angie let out a sigh. She didn’t like the detective’s accusatory tone. “I have no idea.”
Detective Matthews continued. “You aren’t related. You weren’t long time friends.”
“No. The inheritance was as much a surprise to me as it is to you, Detective.”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “And when did you know you were in Professor Linden’s will?
“When Attorney Jack Ford told me. After Professor Linden passed away.”
“You stood to gain from her death.” The detective’s tone of voice was harsh.
Angie looked across the room, not focusing on anything, just gazing into space.
The detective was about to speak when Angie turned back to him. She placed her hands in her lap, and said softly, “No one gains from someone’s death, Detective.”
Angie and the detective sat in silence for a few moments, the ticking of the wall clock the only sound in the room.
“Is there anything else? If not, I need to get to work.” Angie didn’t wait for an answer. She stood up, walked to the door, and left the detective sitting alone in the room.
***
“How did it go?” Jenna rushed from behind the counter when she saw her sister come into the bake shop. “I’ve been so worried.”
Angie took her jacket off and replaced it with her apron. “He just asked me questions.”
Tom was sitting in his usual spot at the counter. “You okay, Angie?”
She smiled at him. “Yeah, I am, now that I’m back here.”
One of her regular customers hurried over. “Angie. I’ve been waiting for you. Will you make me one of those energy drinks?”
“Of course,” Angie said. “Pick out the flavor you’d like.”
“Angie!” A local called to her and he lifted his cup indicating the need for a refill.
Angie nodded and turned to get the coffee pot, but before she did, she looked back to Tom. “Just another day at the bake shop.” Her eyes twinkled.
When the morning rush slowed, Jenna brought Angie a cup of tea. “Tell me what happened at the police station. Are they going to leave you alone now?”
Angie sipped from the mug and leaned against the cabinet. “I don’t know. They can’t pin the professor’s death on me. Where’s the proof?”
Jenna breathed out. “Thank heavens.” She squeezed Angie’s arm.
With her tea mug in one hand, Angie opened the cooler to see what needed replenishing. “I’m not worried. Well, not too much, anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if the detective calls Courtney and Lisa in for questioning. He was very interested to know who made the professor’s drinks the day she was murdered.”
Jenna groaned. “Why don’t they hunt down the actual killer and leave innocent people alone?”
“Someone in this town murdered Professor Linden,” Angie said. “Why?” She put her mug down. “I hope the police don’t just keep barking up the wrong trees. We need to think about this, Jenna. Someone was in our house. What was he looking for? Is the person who was in our house the same person who killed the professor?”
Jenna said, “I haven’t found anything in the upstairs den that someone would be interested in. What was he looking for? What did he want?”
Angie wiped down the preparation counter. “We need to focus on the motive for killing the professor. It was premeditated. Someone planned it. The killer had to get the poison and plot to put it into the professor’s coffee.” Angie stopped cleaning and tapped her finger against her cheek, thinking. “It has to be someone who knew her, knew her routine. I need to talk to Lisa and Courtney about who was in the shop when the professor was here that day. That way we can narrow down the suspects.”
“And then,” Jenna said, “we can figure out which one of those people had motive.”
“I’ll talk to Lisa before she leaves today,” Angie said.
“Good,” Jenna said. “I’ll call Courtney later this afternoon. Then tonight we’ll put together a master list of suspects and figure out who might have had reason to poison the professor.”
Chapter 11
Just before 3pm, Angie asked Lisa if she’d stay for a few minutes to talk about the day the professor was poisoned.
Lisa was putting her apron into the laundry bin. “I guess I could, but only for a few minutes. I have a job interview. Since you’ll be closing the bake shop, I’d like to find something soon.”
Angie’s eyebrows went up. “That’s great. Where are you interviewing?”
“At the resort. They’re looking for a receptionist who can also sometimes act as a reservation specialist. I’ve never done that, but I think I could learn it pretty fast.”
“Good luck. I hope it works out.”
They sat down at one of the café tables. Angie opened a notebook.
“What do you want to talk about?” Lisa asked. Her brows knitted together.
“I thought we could think about who was in the shop th
e morning the professor was killed. Make a list.” Angie pulled a pen from her apron.
“Why?”
“To try to figure out who did it,” Angie said.
“Won’t the police do that?”
“I think it will help the police. I had to speak with a detective this morning. I think he’ll probably want to question you and Courtney.”
A look of worry washed over Lisa’s face. “But we didn’t have anything to do with the death.” Lisa’s eyes got watery.
“Don’t worry. The detective just asked simple questions, straight forward stuff. Just tell him what you remember. He’s just trying to gather information.” Angie thought it best that she leave out the part about how the detective’s interrogation made her feel nervous and uncomfortable.
Lisa clutched her hands together.
“It’ll be okay.” Angie gave her a comforting smile. “Let’s think who was here the morning of the murder.” Angie started making a list. “Police Chief Martin was here and Patrolman Talbot. The professor, of course. You, me, and Courtney. Tom.” Angie wrote the names on the pad of paper. She looked at Lisa. “Who else?”
“The real estate agent, Betty Hayes.” Lisa rubbed her temple.
“Oh,” Angie said. “Davis and Josh Williams were here that day. They came in to check out the shop for the renovations they have planned.”
“Mrs. Abbott,” Lisa said. “That group of older men who come in every morning. And, Selectman Johnson.”
They went on for a few more minutes adding names to the list. Lisa checked her watch. “I need to go now. I don’t want to be late for my interview.”
“Oh, right. Thanks. If you think of anyone else, let me know tomorrow.” Angie put her pen down. She wanted to say something to Lisa that might help her to worry less. “You know, I don’t think the murder was random. I think someone specifically wanted the professor dead. I know the killer hasn’t been caught, but I don’t think any of us are in danger.”
Lisa seemed to consider what Angie said. She nodded.
“Thanks for helping me with the list.” Angie smiled at her. “Good luck with the interview.”