Six Merry Little Murders

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Six Merry Little Murders Page 14

by Lee Strauss et al.


  Finally, the sounds of sirens came down the street, making the two sigh in relief. Within minutes, the bizarre surreal calm they’d been swaddling themselves with was shredded as emergency personnel scuttled about the porch and kitchen.

  It was a happy surprise to Cecelia to see that one of the officers was her grandson Frank’s partner.

  “Evening, Ms. Wagner,” said the young officer, nodding his head. His name was Jefferson, and he was shaped like a Slim Jim jerky stick. His clean-shaven face was serious now. Come to think of it, Cecelia never saw him smile much.

  Officer Jefferson asked, “So you’re saying this man was a guest at your bed-and-breakfast?” He jerked his thumb at the kitchen window in the direction of the thick hedges that divided Cecelia’s place from Oscar’s home.

  Cecelia patted her bun, searching for stray hairs, as she nodded. “Yes, both he and his father. Oh, my stars. His father doesn’t even know. One of you all need to go tell him.” She stood on her tip-toes to see over the hedge. “I’m surprised there are no guests wandering about outside right now, wondering what the commotion is over here.”

  “Not so surprising. On cold days people tend to stay inside. Now, exactly how would you describe the father and son’s relationship?”

  Cecelia shrugged and glanced at Oscar who appeared behind her in the doorway. Peanut was in his hands and he absentmindedly stroked her. The dog had settled down like she knew being in his arms was her place of safety.

  “Go on and tell them,” he encouraged, knowing how she didn’t want to badmouth the man again.

  Her gaze flicked up at the officer. “Would you like a cup of tea? I sure could use one.”

  “No tea for me,” Officer Jefferson said.

  Cecelia filled up a mug for herself and stuck it in the microwave. “Well, I’d say they were a bit argumentative, the two of them. Fathers and sons often are.” She winced slightly after saying that, knowing how Oscar had no contact with his own boys. Oscar didn’t seem to notice since he gently set the dog back on the ground. Peanut immediately sniffed Officer Jefferson’s shoes.

  “What types of things did they fight about?” Officer Jefferson asked. He had his pad out and was taking notes.

  “The father’s name is Steve. Steve had been in a horrific car accident about six months ago and is now in a wheelchair. In fact, they had just settled with the insurance company and were out here as their first trip to get away from all the hospitals and stress.” She shook her head. “Those poor men. I think the stress was getting to them with Mike feeling impatient with his father.”

  “Hey, can I help?” A familiar face poked his head into the kitchen. Frank.

  At the sight of her grandson’s concerned face, Cecelia gasped in relief. “Oh, Frank, it was Mike. Did you see him? I’m not sure what happened. Could it have been a heart attack? He always drank those energy drinks. He was so young.”

  Frank glanced at Jefferson and then back at his grandma. His lips pressed together. “From what I’m hearing there’s a strong suspicion he was poisoned.”

  Shocked, Cecelia reeled back into Oscar, who caught her elbow. Peanut caught the excitement and pranced about barking, causing chaos for everyone.

  Frank chased the dog for a moment before catching her. He locked her wiggling body down with his elbow and then continued, “Unfortunately, the police need to go over to your place, Grandma. They want some samples of the food. If you saw him eat any snacks or if you can make a list, the coroner would really appreciate it.”

  Cecelia’s mouth puckered as though she might cry. “What? My cooking? I can’t see what he would’ve eaten that was bad. Everyone had the same oatcakes and fruit. He did ask for a cup of Greek yogurt. You know how he was about protein. And those darn energy drinks. I never saw him without one.”

  The paramedics had finished loading up the body, and the ambulance headed back onto the road.

  Frank nodded, scratching the dog’s ears. “All right, well, we’re heading over to give the news to his father. Wait a few minutes before you join us. Don’t feel obligated if you don’t want to come right away. I can show the detectives around the kitchen.”

  He set the dog down and left with the rest of the policemen.

  Cecelia ruffled and crossed her arms. “How can my own grandson think I’d want to wait here? I hardly think I want them poking about my kitchen without me. Besides, I have a responsibility to the other guests. Mike’s dad, Steve is kind of fragile. Poor guy, he’s all alone now.”

  Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How comfortable is he with the wheelchair?”

  “Not very, even with Mike’s help. That was a big part of their fights. Last night Mike threatened to put his father in a nursing home if he didn’t shape up.”

  “Did anyone else hear him say that?” Oscar asked.

  “Oh, for sure. The whole thing was very uncomfortable. We were all playing rummy—well you know.”

  Oscar did know. He had been playing cards himself. If he recalled correctly, Mike was the reason they’d all played rummy. Steve had wanted to play poker. Mike had been very upset because he’d never played poker before.

  It would have stood out more to Oscar except that his attention had been captured by one of the guests, a businessman named Roy. When Roy had accepted his cards, his sleeve had raised up. There’d been an interesting tattoo on the man’s wrist, one of a bull that Oscar had seen many times as an FBI agent. He’d stared at the tattoo for a moment and had been tempted to ask Roy about it. Then the game swept along at a furious rate, Roy’s sleeve slid down, and Oscar realized he was actually quite tired. Oscar had left soon after that, blaming the fact that Peanut was lonely, when really his lumbago was acting up. Not to mention he needed to catch his Wheel of Fortune.

  In leaving so early it seemed that he’d missed Mike berating his dad. “Tell me more,” Oscar said.

  “Well, Mike was furious because Steve bumped the table, jogging everyone’s drink. Glasses splashed, and more than one was knocked over. Everyone jumped back. It was a sight, I tell you, and that round ended because no one was certain who’s cards were who’s by the time everything was mopped up. Mike’s face was beet red, and he threw down his cards and proceeded to scold his father he was a perfect example of why they put old animals out to pasture, and that he wanted to go their separate ways.

  “Mike scolded his father?”

  “Yes! Steve said they were stuck together, and Mike said he’d find a way to get away.” Cecelia shook her head and clucked her tongue. “I know that poor young man just died, but last night I can tell you that everyone at that table gasped.”

  “I would have come unglued.”

  Cecelia nodded. There was no doubt Oscar would have put Mike in his place. “We were all so shocked he would be so rude and disrespectful to his dad. Mike stormed out of the house, leaving all of us to try to pick up the pieces. Honestly, the night was a bust with everyone heading to their rooms. Before I finished cleaning the kitchen, I did take a minute to speak to Steve later myself. ‘Does he always talk to you like this?’ I asked him. ‘Because that’s not okay.’ Steve said no, in that adamant way of his, and slowly pushed his wheelchair back into their room. I’m not sure when Mike returned.”

  Just then, through the window Cecelia saw Frank heading back their way.

  3

  Cecelia opened the porch door and walked out onto the painted decking. The crisp air smelled of pine and frost with just a hint of smoke from a neighbor burning a pile of yard waste. Frank’s face was stern, and he walked toward the house with lowered eyebrows and matching frowning lips.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, crossing her arms against the chill.

  He crunched the last few steps through the gravel. “It’s kind of a mess over there. We discovered Steve sleeping in his wheelchair. Apparently, he was waiting for Mike to return and they had plans to visit the local pub. Steve said that Mike had gone for a walk at about one, and that his son wasn’t stressed, but had needed a breat
h of fresh air. It was a shock to the poor guy. I asked for Doctor Reynolds to come take a look at him.”

  “Oh, the poor dear.” Cecelia clucked her tongue and shook her head.

  Before she could ask more, Frank continued, “Grandma, I do have some more bad news.”

  “More bad news?”

  Her grandson stared at the ground, his hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was kneading dough. Finally—with a look of ripping off a bandaid—he raised his head and blurted, “There’s talk that they might try to pull your license to serve food until we figure out what killed Mike.”

  “Talk? Who’s talking?”

  “One of the other cops. He’s new, a transfer from Pittsburgh. I swear he’s chomping at the bit with all our small town crime. Still, he has some pull, so I want you to be prepared.”

  “What kind of bed-and-breakfast doesn’t serve breakfast?” Cecelia asked. She turned worried eyes to Oscar.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Oscar said and patted her back to reassure her. Inside, he was uneasy. He knew how those little wahoo’s could get when they wanted to make a big name for themselves in a new precinct.

  “How is Steve now?” he asked.

  “Right now, one of your guests, Sarah, is keeping an eye on him. When I left, she was getting him some tea.”

  Well, that did it. There was no way another woman would be squirreling around in her kitchen alone. “I’m heading over,” Cecelia said, her brow wrinkled with distraction. She marched down the stairs and began to cross the lawn, her steps firm. “What about the other guests?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “So far no one has checked out of the bed-and-breakfast. Sarah said she still had plans to visit the Amish village later today. We intercepted the sales reps, Roy and Troy, as they were heading out for their business meeting. No one saw Mike leave for his walk. As you can imagine, everyone is quite shocked.”

  The two sales reps, Roy and Troy had kept to themselves the entire time that they had been at the house. However, Cecelia knew that they weren’t too happy with how Steve had been treated by his son either. Last night, she’d overheard them talking on the back deck where Roy had been smoking a cigarette. He’d muttered to Troy about how “Mike’s a punk kid,” and “when I was growing up, you never treated your elders that way.”

  Troy had agreed and said someone needed to teach that kid some manners.

  Cecelia rubbed her brow as she walked. Was there something else he’d said? Something about insurance? She’d been so upset about the fight she hadn’t paid enough attention. She shook her head. That didn’t make sense. After all, it was windy last evening. She must have misheard the men.

  Oh well, she supposed it didn’t matter. It wasn’t likely that they’d be suspects anyhow. Other than glaring at Mike last night, both Roy and Troy really kept to themselves. They were rarely at the bed-and-breakfast, being so busy with a business seminar at a hotel in the city. In fact, they didn’t even stay for most meals.

  As Cecelia walked toward her porch, she felt a tickle on her hand. A tiny snowflake. It should have brought levity, but her chest was tight with emotion.

  Okay, so who do I have staying with me tonight? She mentally ticked off the guests. Two new guests coming later today, so I’ll have five plus poor Steve. I wonder if he has family in the area to help him?

  She was met by one of the businessmen, Troy, who stood on the front porch smoking. His face was glum, and he gripped his cigarette between nicotine-stained fingers.

  “I supposed you’ve heard, eh?” He squinted at her as smoke clouded around his head like a demented halo.

  Well, she was hardly going to tell him that it had been both Oscar and her who’d discovered the body. She responded with a stiff nod.

  “Did you see that car?” He stabbed the cigarette in the direction of a blue sedan tucked along the side of the house. She glanced over with a jolt of surprise. She’d actually missed it.

  “Your new guests are here. Some guy and his gal. They’ve been wandering around this place for hours,” Troy took another drag before stubbing the butt out next to the rose bush. Cecelia wrinkled her nose. Normally the smoking section was in the back of the building, away from the doors. But, since these weren’t normal times, she’d overlook it.

  “Thank you, Troy,” she answered, continuing up the steps.

  “Is there anything you need from me?”

  She paused while opening the screen door. The green Christmas wreath, with its clumps of red ornaments and bells, waggled with the movement. That was quite nice of him. Unexpected. “Would you mind emptying the trash and maybe dragging the can to the end of the driveway? Tomorrow is pick up.”

  “Absolutely. It would be my pleasure. By the way, those ribs you made for lunch were out of this world.”

  “Aw, I’m glad to hear it. Thank you again, Troy.”

  As she entered the house the warm scent of cinnamon and fresh-cut pine sap greeted her. Now what should she do first? Talk to the new guests or go comfort Steve? And were those cops still in her kitchen?

  A long clang came from the kitchen, answering her question and making her puff her cheeks in a frustrated sigh. As she headed that way, her attention was grabbed by laughter in the living room. The new guests were sitting at the table, playing cards that were laid across the cheery red runner in a suspicious pattern of Hearts.

  She sniffed. Well, they’d certainly made themselves at home, especially if they’d been here for hours. Nothing to do about it now.

  She walked into the living room with a smile. “Hello, there. I’m Cecelia, the owner of Baker Street bed-and-breakfast.”

  The man stood at the sight of her and held out his hand. “Bobby. Sorry, I know we arrived early. We’d been hiking all morning, so it was nice to sit down in this wonderful place. And then we saw the cookies and coffee cake, and, well, they called our name.”

  “It’s perfectly fine. That’s what the pastries are there for.” Cecelia shook the woman’s hand as well. “We do have a bit of an emergency that we are in the midst of right now.”

  Bobby’s face fell. “I know, we heard. I’m so sorry.”

  Silence descended in the room that rivaled that of a library. The young couple glanced at each other. Cecelia tried to interpret the glance. They must be worried they were going to get that room.

  She rushed to reassure them. “First of all, the dreadful thing that happened to the poor young man happened off site. His room is downstairs, and the room you reserved is upstairs. Obviously, things have changed now. Perhaps you don’t want to stay anymore? With the circumstances, I’ll be happy to reimburse your charges. I leave it up to you.”

  “Oh, no. We definitely want to stay,” Brenda said. She carefully picked up the cards and shimmied them back in the box.

  Bobby gave an easy grin. “Yeah, it seems that all the hotels are packed. And the day is getting kind of late now. We felt pretty fortunate to get a place at all.”

  “Everything usually is booked at this time a year,” Cecelia admitted. “It’s funny. Since it’s Christmas time, you’d think that people wouldn’t want to leave their homes. But in reality, it seems many folks want to celebrate where they don’t have to do the work. And I love sharing Christmas with others.”

  She really did. She’d had guests for every Christmas the last few years since she’d had the bed-and-breakfast. Every year she made her special Christmas Star bread, and she had fun placing a small present on everyone’s bed each morning of the week leading up to Christmas. The presents were only tokens, such as a bar of scented soap or a sample size lotion. Occasionally, she’d give a tiny package of wildflower honeycomb from the hives down the street.

  Plus, she got to decorate. She waved now at the front window which was festooned with fresh green garland and red ribbons. And, of course, they’d already discovered the buffet that held a silver pump pot of hot cocoa, a jar of marshmallows, fruit pastries, Christmas cookies, and a box of sweet peppermint candies. “As you can se
e, I quite enjoy celebrating it. I’m pleased you will be staying, and hope to make your holiday special.”

  “I think it will be. We really didn’t want the headache of setting up a tree. After all, it’s only the two of us, so can you blame us? Look at how cozy this is.” He smiled appreciatively at the Christmas tree with the soft white lights and the row of stockings over the fireplace.

  “Now, are there other guests here?” Brenda asked.

  “Yes, and you may meet them all tonight. There’s a woman staying down the hall and two business men directly across from you.”

  “Was that one of them outside just a minute ago?”

  “Yes. They’ve been at meetings every day since they checked in, but in the evening we have a good time. Everyone lodging here is a fun group. Although, I think tonight might be somber night.”

  Another pot falling made its tinny declaration from the kitchen.

  Cecelia sighed. “Let me go get the final paperwork for you to sign.”

  “Oh, I thought we filled everything out online,” Brenda said.

  “I only need a few more things, such as what vehicle you’re driving, verification of your credit card, and a signature on the rental agreement.”

  “Sounds great.” Bobby smiled.

  Cecelia left for the study to get the admission form. A troop of policemen passed her in the hallway, their boots leaving mud clumps that made her frown. Jefferson held a box filled with what she assumed were food samples. He wouldn’t look at her, instead faced the ground as if ashamed.

  One of the cops moved in her direction. He was short and bristly and someone she didn’t recognize. “Ms. Wagner, We’ve finished for today. Depending on what the coroner says, we’ll let you know if you can keep your food service license.”

  What am I going to do if they take that away? Cecelia opened her mouth to respond but he stopped her with a stiff hand. Staring her down, he reached into the box and pulled out a jar of her homemade jelly.

 

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