by Kathi Daley
“Are you sure Milton shot Ms. Rosewood?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’m not sure. But she was shot within a day of my speaking to her about Milton’s record and the fact that he was demanding money from us. I didn’t tell her about what Jake had done. I guess I hoped Milton would continue to keep the secret, and Jake wouldn’t have to go to jail. I guess things didn’t turn out the way I hoped.”
“I agree that your husband is probably going to prison. But once we get you moved, you and the kids should be safe.”
“Do you think Milton will come after us?”
“I don’t see why he would. I really can’t see what he’d have to gain by doing so. All the same, it might be best to not tell anyone where you are until Officer Baker has a chance to track down Milton and bring him in.”
Chapter 14
Tuesday, November 20
By the time Tuesday rolled around, someone from social services had come to accompany Mrs. Jenkins and the kids to Silvia’s home in Salem, and Milton had been brought in for questioning. Milton made the perfect suspect in Trinity’s shooting, but he seemed to have a pretty solid alibi for the timeframe during which Trinity was shot. Woody planned to hold him as long as he could so that he had time to dig further into his alibi, but when we’d spoken earlier, he’d shared that he no longer was quite as certain that we had our man.
Trevor had returned to his home the previous evening, but he still planned to go to the grocery store with me to pick up the items we needed for our Thanksgiving meal. Since he decided to close Pirates for the entire Thanksgiving weekend so his employees could spend the holiday with their families, he only needed to work two days before having five days off. He planned to help me with the shopping this morning and then go into work after that.
“I have a feeling we should have been here when they opened the doors,” I said, after getting a glimpse of the already packed aisles.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’ve decided that the key to holiday shopping no matter how well you plan is to approach it with patience and a determination to find joy in the task.”
I dropped a bag of potatoes into our cart. “I guess crowds are part of the experience. Fortunately, Mom made the pies and the rolls, so we can avoid the bakery aisle since it is totally packed. She has the turkey and many of the boxed and canned items she needs. Let’s finish up here in the produce aisle and then hit the dairy section.”
“Did Mac say what time they’d be back in town today?” Trevor asked.
“She just said today but didn’t specify a time. What time do you need to be at the restaurant?”
“I’m going to head over as soon as we are done here. My manager has covered for the past week, so I agreed to handle things today and tomorrow so he could leave early on his own holiday.”
“You really didn’t need to come with me this morning,” I said. “I could have handled things on my own.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t have gone in this early anyway, and I wanted to do what I could to help out. I guess I won’t see you until Thursday unless you want to come by this evening. I close at nine.”
“Can I text you later? I need to see how this day ends up before I promise anything.” I paused as a woman crashed into my cart. There was no harm done, but it did irk me a bit that she didn’t even stop to apologize. Of course, she had her head down like she was heading into battle, so I supposed she might not have even noticed. Trevor was right, the only way to get through this was to slow down and embrace the insanity.
It took Trevor and me over an hour to pick up the few things on Mom’s list, pay for our purchases, and then make it back to the car. When we arrived at my house, Trevor helped me to unload our purchases, and then he kissed me softly on the lips and headed back into town. I’d gotten used to having him around during the past week. I was going to miss him now that he needed to spend time at his restaurant.
“Any news on Trinity’s condition?” Mom asked as we worked together to put the groceries away.
“No. I actually thought I’d stop by and check on things today. It seems to me that if her condition doesn’t improve or change, they’ll probably move her to a long term care facility.”
“I just feel so bad for that young woman and her family. Based on what we’ve learned about her, it seems as if she really cares about the individuals in her caseload.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “What happened to her isn’t fair.” I folded up our reusable bags and stored them in the pantry. “I’m going to head out to do some errands. I imagine I’ll be back in a few hours. Do you need anything else while I’m out?”
“I think I have everything I need. Maybe some flowers for the centerpiece. If you just want to get a fall assortment, that would be great. I’ll text you if I think of anything else.”
“Okay. I’ll grab some flowers. If Mac shows up before I get back, please have her text me. I’m anxious to hear about her trip. At least someone actually managed to have some down time.”
After I left the house, I headed toward the hospital. I’d promised Carmen I wouldn’t try to connect with her sister, and I wouldn’t, but I did want to look in on Trinity and hopefully get an update. I greeted the woman at the front desk, who remembered me and waved me through, and then I headed upstairs. I didn’t see Carmen anywhere, but Trinity seemed to be resting comfortably, so I poked my head in her room. I swore I saw her hand move, so I stepped inside the room. When she moved an arm, I walked over to the bed. “Trinity?”
She opened her eyes.
I smiled. “Good morning. I didn’t know that you were awake.”
She looked confused.
“Should I get the nurse?”
She closed her eyes again, but I sensed she was simply resting.
“I’ll get the nurse.” I turned and left the room. “I popped in to check on Trinity Rosewood. She opened her eyes,” I said to the nurse.
“Are you sure?” the nurse asked.
“I’m sure.”
The nurse called for the doctor and then headed for the room. When I arrived, she was talking to Trinity, who’d opened her eyes once again.
“Is she really awake?” I asked.
“It appears she is,” the nurse said. “I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave while the doctor is here.”
“Of course.” I looked toward the bed and smiled at the woman. “I’ll check back later.”
“Aspen,” Trinity said as I turned to leave.
“She is fine. They all are. The mother and the four children have gone to stay with a friend living out of the area. They are safe now.”
She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes once again. I hoped that meant that she was relieved and simply resting and not that she’d slipped back into the coma, The doctor came in, and they bustled me out, so I had no choice but to leave her in the skilled hands of the medical staff and go about my day as planned.
After I left the hospital, I headed toward Woody’s office. I figured he’d have an update on the entire situation by now.
“Trinity is awake,” I said as soon as I walked in the door.
He smiled. “She is? That’s wonderful news. Have you spoken to her?”
“Not really. She’d just woken when I was there, and they herded me out. She did say the word Aspen, and I assured her that Aspen and the others were fine.”
“I guess she must remember that she was on the phone with Aspen when she was shot.” Woody frowned. “I wonder if there is something more going on than we know about.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure. It’s just a feeling. I guess all we can do at this point is to wait and see how things work out.”
“How are things working out?” I asked. “Any updates?”
“Jake Jensen is in custody. He has confessed to killing the clerk during the liquor store robbery twenty years ago. Joey Milton Winston has been released, but we are keeping an eye on him. During the timeframe for when Trinity was sh
ot, he was with a friend who vouched for him. Now that his buddy, Jake, has been arrested and he no longer has anything to hold over him, my feeling is that he’ll move on.”
“Does he know where Mrs. Jensen and the kids are staying?”
“No. Only a handful of people know that at this point, and none of them will spill the beans. I think they are perfectly safe until we can get this whole thing sorted out.”
“Okay, so if Uncle Milton didn’t shoot Trinity, who did?”
“I’ve been thinking about that, and all I’ve come up are more questions. We know that Aspen was on the phone with Trinity when she was shot, but if you remember there was also a call to Trinity’s phone from the foster home where Aspen was staying earlier in the day. About three hours earlier. We assumed it was from Aspen, but when asked about it, she said that she’d only made one call to her social worker.”
“So who made the first call?”
“Exactly. Since the call came from the house phone, I called and spoke to the foster mother, and she informed me that she had not made the call and was in fact at work at the time the call was made. I have verified this fact.”
“And the foster dad?”
“He informed me that he was at work as well, and he assured me that the children were all at school. On the surface, it doesn’t look as if anyone was home to have made the call, but after really looking into things, I’ve decided it is possible that both the foster father and the oldest son could have been home. The oldest son is in high school and gets out at two o’clock. The call came through a few minutes after three. As for the foster father, he is a UPS driver who works in the local area and could have made a trip home without anyone knowing.”
“Why would he lie about calling Trinity if he had?” I asked.
“He probably wouldn’t and most likely didn’t. I was just making a point that it was possible that he could have been the one to make the call. It really doesn’t make sense to me that anyone in the family would reach out to the social worker of one of the children in their care and then lie about it, but so far, no one has confessed to having made the call.”
“Well now that Trinity is awake, maybe she can tell us who called and who shot her.”
“That would indeed make things simpler,” Woody agreed. “I think I’ll head over to the hospital and see what I can find out.”
“Call me if you come across any new information. I’m going to head to the florist to get the flowers my mom wants for the table.”
I decided to park in the public lot and then walk up and down Main to pick up everything I needed. That seemed to make more sense than struggling with the traffic generated by the holiday shoppers who were out picking up the things they needed for the holiday did. The town was already partially decorated for Christmas. The orange twinkle lights that had been strung in the patio trees along the sidewalks on both sides of the street had been switched out for white, and the window displays which a few weeks ago had featured ghosts and goblins were now decked out with images of reindeer and brightly wrapped packages. I loved this time of the year. I loved slowly walking up and down the street, looking at the windows. I hoped the general store still featured the huge Santa’s Village in their walk-in window like they had when I’d lived here before. As of this morning, Dracula’s Castle had been removed, and a snowy landscape had appeared, but I could tell by the boxes that were stacked in one corner that the window artist, who happened to be the store owner’s granddaughter, had only just begun to create her magic.
I paused at the holiday store, tempted to go inside in spite of the fact I really didn’t need any additional decorations. At least not for Thanksgiving. When it came to Christmas décor, I would need to take inventory of what I had and what I still needed to buy. Still, the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers did feel inviting, so I opened the front door and slipped inside.
“Amanda. How are you?” Chelsea Green, an old friend from high school who still lived in Cutter’s Cove, hugged me.
“I’m good,” I returned the hug of the woman who’d matured into a giving and caring philanthropist from the snobbish homecoming queen I knew in high school. “How are you?”
“Fantastic. And so excited for the upcoming holiday. Caleb and I are hosting my entire family this year. At first, I was terrified that I’d either overcook or undercook the turkey, but Caleb reminded me to relax and enjoy the experience, so I decided to do just that. I heard your mom is in town.”
I nodded. “She’ll be here through Christmas.”
“I’ll have to stop by and say hi. I always did like your mom. She was a lot cooler than most of the mothers I knew.”
“She’s the best,” I agreed. “She even came early to babysit my animals while Mac, Trevor, and I attempted to take some time away to relax.”
Chelsea wrinkled her nose. “I heard your luxury cruise was cut short. It sounds like it was a simply dreadful experience.”
“It was.” I shared the dicey experience Trevor, Mac, Ty, and I had gone through. Chelsea had shared a few dangerous experiences with me in the past, so I knew she’d appreciate the twists and turns we’d had along the way.
“Like I said, it sounds just awful. I’m so glad you all made it back safely. It’s been a really bizarre few months.”
“It really has,” I agreed.
Chelsea tucked a lock of her thick chestnut hair behind one ear. “I guess you heard about the two shootings in town.”
I nodded. “Yes. Trevor and I have been working with Woody to find the individuals responsible.”
“Any luck?”
“Not so far,” I informed her.
“I guess you heard the rumor that has been going around about how the attorney had been digging around in some old case, and that it was him being nosy that led to his death.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Who told you that?”
She shrugged. “There have been a few people. My dad for one. You know he was on the town council way back when and he tended to know everything that was going on. He told Caleb and me that Bryson Teller had actually served on the jury that convicted some guy named John Thornton of murdering his landlady. For some reason, twenty years after the case was tried and Thornton was convicted and sent to prison, this Teller guy starts having doubts. From what my dad told me, the guy had been talking to others in the community who were involved in the case back then, and that he had been digging up a bunch of old files.”
“So how would that lead to his death?” I asked.
“Dad thinks that Teller was onto something, and Thornton might actually be innocent. His buddy from the yacht club seemed to think that Teller had a new theory as to what actually occurred and that it was this new theory that led to the real killer offing him before he could tell what he knew.”
I thought about the files I’d found in the closet. Woody was going to look into them, but I had never had followed up with him. I wondered if he’d continued to look into the John Thornton case or if he’d become distracted, as I had, by everything that was going on with the Jensen children.
“So what exactly do you know about the case?” I asked Chelsea.
“Not a lot. I was a kid at the time the woman was killed. I remember my dad talking about it, but I didn’t pay a lot of attention back then. My dad and Caleb were chatting about it recently, and he said that a lady named Vonda Valdez used to own the Seafarer Apartments down by Arlington Beach. The apartments aren’t there any longer. They were torn down a long time ago to make room for the Arlington Beach Resort and Spa.”
“I know exactly the spot you are talking about. The resort is very high end.”
“It is now, but back when Vonda Valdez died, the corner was occupied by affordable apartments, at least they were considered affordable based on their oceanfront location. Anyway, I guess that this Valdez woman was a bit of a curmudgeon who tended to kick people out whenever she had a whim to do so and for some reason, she’d decided that this John Thornton would be her next casualty. John
wasn’t going to go without putting up a fight. I guess that over the few weeks following the letter to vacate the property, there were quite a few altercations, some of them quite lively, between Thornton and Valdez. During the afternoon hours on the day Valdez was found dead, several of the other tenants overheard Thornton threaten to kill the woman. Several hours after the altercation, the woman was found dead in her apartment. She’d been stabbed with her own carving knife. According to my dad, Thornton confessed to threatening the woman in a moment of rage, but he insisted that he hadn’t killed her. After a long drawn out trial, he was convicted and sentenced to life in prison.”
“And Bryson Teller, who was a twenty-something-year-old college graduate planning to begin law school, was selected as a member of the jury?”
“He was. I think he lived in Cutter’s Cove during the summer, which is when the trial took place. Anyway, according to my dad, it seemed as if the guy was having second thoughts and had decided to dig around a bit, and as I’ve already said, it looks like that digging might have led to his death.”
“Is your dad currently in town?”
“Yeah. He’s around.”
“I’m going to share what you told me with Woody, but I’d be willing to bet he’ll want to talk to your dad.”