“Yes, I saw her.”
“Joelle?” Adele repeated.
“Joelle Biggs,” Erin explained, and proceeded to tell Adele the details of Trenton Plaint’s death.
“But what is she doing back in town?” Adele asked. “Does she have friends around here? Other than Davis?”
“No, no one that I know of. Charley wanted her to come back. But I don’t know why she came. I certainly wouldn’t if it was me!”
Adele stared at the dark window. Erin suspected she had other things she would rather be doing. She had come back with Vic to be accommodating and to let them know she was fine, but she had said she had a lot of things to do. They were probably keeping her away from something else. While Erin and Vic had to retire to bed early, Adele would be up past midnight doing whatever it was she did in the woods.
Erin covered a faked yawn. “Well… I’m going to need to hit the sack. Stay and visit if you like…”
Terry looked at his watch. K9 looked up quickly, reading the signal that they were going to leave. “I’d better get back to it,” Terry commented. He gave Erin a quick hug and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “See you tomorrow.”
Erin nodded. “Keep an eye on Joelle while she’s in town…”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” he promised.
“I suppose I should get to bed too,” Vic said grudgingly.
Adele looked relieved. She rose to her feet in one fluid movement. “Good to see you, Erin. I need to pop over and see Mary Lou. Thank you for the goodies. I’ll have a lot of fun going through them.”
In a few minutes, everyone was gone, and Erin was left by herself to think about the events of the day.
Chapter 3
Isn’t it nice to have everything back to normal?” Vic asked, as they closed up the bakery to take their early lunch.
Erin flipped the sign to Closed and they got out sandwich makings and freshly-baked bread for their repast.
“I suppose so,” Erin said slowly.
Vic looked over at her, eyebrows raised. “Don’t tell me you prefer mortal peril,” she teased.
“No! Certainly not that. I just can’t help feeling like… something is bound to happen. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since I came to Bald Eagle Falls, things have been happening. There have been quiet intervals in between, when everything seems normal, but that’s when the scary music starts to play, before the characters realize that something bad is going to happen.”
Vic laughed. “There are only so many shoes,” she quipped. “I think they’ve all dropped by now.” She slathered mayonnaise on her sandwich. “I don’t hear any music.”
“The characters never do.”
“I really don’t think you need to worry, Erin. Everything has been settled. Davis is in jail, Charley is out, and there are no more mysteries to be solved.”
“Well…”
Vic gave her a stern look. “There are no more mysteries.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
Erin still had questions, both about her family’s past and about things that had happened in Bald Eagle Falls since she had moved there. But those were just questions, not mysteries. A person never had all of their questions answered. Life just didn’t work out that way.
But several weeks had passed without anything eventful happening. Charley was settling into the Bald Eagle Falls routine, resigned to the fact that things were not going to move as quickly as she wanted them to. She had been unable to convince Joelle that it was in Davis’s best interests to open the bakery immediately, and was still doing whatever she could to convince the lawyers in charge of the estate to hasten things along at faster than a turtle’s pace. Joelle had, Erin knew, been up to the prison to see Davis a few times. But that hadn’t resulted in any threats on Erin’s life, and Joelle hadn’t even bothered to poke her head into Auntie Clem’s in the time she had been in town. Joelle and Charley both had to find temporary living arrangements, as the estate would not choose one of them over the other to live in the Plaint house, so it sat cold and empty while the two ladies lived out of suitcases in rented cottages.
Erin layered thin slices of tomato into her sandwich. Vic was right. For the time being, everything was quiet. Everything was back to normal. There was no scary music playing.
Peter Foster came to the bakery after school with his mother and little sisters. He was one of Erin’s favorite customers, and it always made her day when he stopped in.
He and his sisters pressed their faces up against the glass, considering the various treats. Unlike at The Bake Shoppe before it closed, Peter could choose any of the cookies or treats that appealed to him and know that they would be safe for him to eat. The little boy who had rarely been able to have any baking other than some dry, store-bought gluten-free cookies, thought Auntie Clem’s Bakery was heaven.
“Marshmallow cookies,” Peter breathed, fogging up the glass.
“Is that what you would like today?” Erin asked.
Peter nodded emphatically. “Yes, please!”
“Me too!” the girls chorused.
Usually, Peter suggested to them that they each get a different variety of cookie so that they could each have a bite of three different sorts of cookies, but this time, Peter didn’t say anything about them all having the same kind of cookies. Each of them drooled over the chocolate-covered marshmallow and cookie confection and took them almost reverently from Erin.
“Cook-kie!” toddler Traci insisted, slapping Mrs. Foster’s arm excitedly.
“Maybe something not so messy for this one,” Mrs. Foster said with a laugh. “She’ll have chocolate everywhere.”
“Oatmeal?” Erin suggested.
“That would be great.”
Erin gave Traci her cookie. Traci looked at the other children and seemed uncertain whether to take it, but was eventually tempted into it. She jammed the oatmeal cookie straight into her mouth, humming a pleased mmmmm sound as she slobbered over it.
The children taken care of, Mrs. Foster looked over the baking to pick out what she would need for meals during the week.
“How is it going?” she asked, sounding a little tired. “Everything good with you ladies?”
Erin nodded. “Yes, everything is good with me.”
She glanced over at Vic for her response, wondering what Vic would say. Vic smiled and brushed the question off. “Every day above ground…”
“…is a good day,” Mrs. Foster finished. She seemed satisfied with the response and didn’t pursue it any further.
Erin wondered how Vic really was. Erin knew that Vic and Willie had talked a couple of times, and even met for dinner one evening, but things didn’t seem to be progressing. Erin hadn’t seen Willie at Vic’s apartment at all and he didn’t stop by to visit at Erin’s house. Vic occasionally borrowed the car to go into the city but, as far as Erin knew, she hadn’t gone to Willie’s house. While she had never thought them a particularly good match, with Willie so much older than Vic, she was sorry that things didn’t seem to have worked out between them.
But it wasn’t any of Erin’s business. Vic didn’t talk to her about it, and Erin just let it go, wishing she knew more.
“Did you hear about Joelle?” Mrs. Foster asked.
The question was aimed at Vic, but Erin snapped to attention. “Joelle?”
“That girl—woman—who was mixed up with the Plaint boys. You know, the one who came back…”
“Yes,” Erin nodded impatiently. “I know who you mean. What happened?”
“Poor girl had a nasty fall, out doing her power-walking thing. I hear she broke her leg.”
“I don’t think it was broken,” Vic provided. “I think she just messed it up pretty good. Road rash and a sprained knee.”
Erin winced. “How did she do that out walking?”
“She goes pretty fast,” Mrs. Foster provided. “I don’t know if you’ve seen her out striding around, but I know joggers who wouldn’t be able to keep up with her. I guess s
he tripped over something. I don’t know.”
“I heard she fell into the creek,” Vic said, frowning. “Standing too close to the edge, and just tumbled in.”
“That was last week. This was just yesterday.”
Erin blinked and shook her head. “Two falls in a week? That seems strange.”
“I guess she’s accident prone,” Vic said. “Doesn’t sound like there was anyone else involved. City girl, maybe she’s just not used to the challenges of hiking in the woods.”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “Well, it can be dangerous, I suppose. I would have thought that with all of her workout clothes and talk about yoga and wellness and what-not that she was a little bit better-coordinated than that.”
“Well…” Erin tried to think of a way to tactfully voice her opinion. “I think that Joelle… isn’t always what she would like people to think she is. I think she is more about outward appearances than actually being fit and healthy.”
Vic nodded her agreement. “She likes to look well-to-do, but that’s just an act. Same with being vegan. I guess it’s not a stretch that she’s not really athletic either.”
“I wonder what she’s really like,” Erin mused. “Under all of that outward stuff, what is she really like inside?”
Vic handed Erin Mrs. Foster’s purchases to ring up on the till. “My guess would be that she’s either really mean and nasty, or just a scared little girl. The trouble is, I don’t know which one.”
Chapter 4
Vic looked at the amount of soup that was left over from supper and shook her head. “I guess we’re having chicken soup again tomorrow,” she said. “Were you expecting Terry to come by for dinner, or something?”
Erin shook her head. She hadn’t said anything to Vic, because she didn’t want to be held to anything if she ended up chickening out in the end. “No. I just thought… it would be neighborly to take some soup over to Joelle. I don’t know how well she’s getting around on her injured leg. If it’s as bad as people are saying, she’s probably on bed rest for a while, and I don’t know of anyone she has on her side. I don’t think she’s made any friends around here.”
“If Joelle Biggs has been trying to make friends, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Vic declared.
They both laughed.
“I just felt like I should do something for her,” Erin said. “But I’m kind of nervous about going over there by myself. Do you want to come along?”
“You think I want to go visit with Joelle? Not my first choice about how to spend the evening.”
“I know. Me either. But it doesn’t have to take long. We can just stay for a few minutes, and then get on our way. We wouldn’t lose the whole evening.”
Vic wrinkled her nose. “I suppose if you really need me to go.”
“Wasn’t there something in that Bible of yours about feeding the hungry or the sick?” Erin needled. It was dirty pool, she knew, but she really didn’t want to have to face Joelle alone, and Vic was being unexpectedly obstinate about going to visit her.
Vic’s eyes flashed. “For someone who is an atheist, you’re always surprising me with your knowledge of what Christians believe.”
Joelle’s rented house was not far from Erin’s as the crow flew, but the crow flew through the woods, and Erin had to drive around them. It was similar in age and style to Clementine’s house. It probably belonged to one of the older residents who had moved to a larger house or a care home in the city.
Erin and Vic stood on the doorstep and waited after Erin rang the bell.
“If she’s laid up in bed, how is she going to answer the door?” Vic asked after a few minutes of waiting.
Erin considered. She had been giving Joelle extra time, picturing her having to hobble to the door on crutches, but if Joelle were confined to her bed rather than just limping around, standing on the doorstep wasn’t going to do much good.
“Uh… good question. I guess we should have called first.”
“You could call now.”
Erin felt her pocket for her phone. “I don’t have her number.”
Vic shook her head. She gave a sharp rap on the door, calling out Joelle’s name, and they listened for a response from within. Erin couldn’t hear anything. They waited for a little longer. Vic tried the handle, but found it locked.
“City folk,” she muttered. “If she was from around here, she would have just left it unlocked.”
“I guess this isn’t going to work,” Erin admitted. “I should have come up with a better plan.”
Vic looked around. She stepped off of the concrete stairs and picked up a large rock, looking underneath.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for her key.”
“She’s not going to put a key under a rock in the front garden.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Vic put down the rock and picked up another large, decorative rock. There was a ceramic toad nestled down among the flowers, and she picked it up. “Bingo.”
“I can’t believe she would leave it there! That’s just not safe.”
“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe the landlord did. Either way, we’ve got a key.”
Vic climbed the stairs back to Erin’s side and fit the key into the lock.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Erin warned.
“We’re not exactly breaking in. We’re checking in on a neighbor and bringing her lifesaving chicken soup.”
“Well, maybe not lifesaving.”
“Of course it is. If she didn’t have any food, what would happen to her?”
“She would die.”
“Therefore, chicken soup is lifesaving. We don’t know if there is anyone else looking in on her. We could be the only ones.”
Erin was still hesitant, but Vic didn’t wait for her to agree. She just turned the handle and pushed the door open.
“Hello? Joelle? Are you home?” Vic stepped right in. Erin followed behind her uncertainly, a nervous cramp in her guts. It wasn’t right to just walk right into Joelle’s house. “It’s Vic and Erin,” Vic continued. “We brought you something to eat.”
There was no sign of Joelle in the living room or kitchen. The house was still and quiet.
“Maybe she went out,” Erin suggested.
“I thought she was hurt so bad,” Vic countered.
“Maybe she went into the city. To stay with someone else, or to go to the hospital.”
“Come on.”
Vic led the way down the hallway to the bedrooms. The house had a similar floor layout to Clementine’s. Probably most of Bald Eagle Falls houses had a similar floor plan. Most of them had been built around the same time.
“Joelle? Are you home?”
There was a soft response from the back of the house. Erin clutched at Vic’s arm, listening. “Did you hear that?”
Vic looked at Erin and rolled her eyes. Of course she had heard. And it wasn’t unexpected. Vic led the way to the bedroom in the far corner of the house. It was dark within, and Vic pushed the door open the rest of the way with one finger. They both looked in. The room was darkened by blinds that had been pulled shut, and there was a form lying in the bed under the blankets.
“Hey, Joelle, are you awake?” Vic asked.
Silly, since Joelle had just called back to them. Erin and Vic approached the bed. Erin wasn’t sure what to do with the container of soup in her hands.
The room was warm and close. Erin’s nostrils flared at the smell of sweat and dust and the tang of a sharp, bitter herb.
Joelle made another incoherent sound, and she turned over, pulling the blankets back from her face to see them.
“Hi,” Erin greeted. “We… uh… brought you some soup.” She gave the container a little lift to show it to Joelle. “We didn’t know if you’d be able to fix anything for yourself. We heard you got hurt.”
Joelle groaned. She pushed herself up, struggling to get into a sitting position. Vic helped her to get situated and turned on a bedside lamp.
Joelle shie
d away from the light and held her hand over her eyes to block it.
She didn’t look well. Her face was pale, almost gray in the light of the lamp. Sweat stood out on her face. When she looked at them, Erin wasn’t sure whether Joelle was really taking in what she saw and understanding it, or whether she was not even seeing Vic and Erin.
“We brought you food,” Vic repeated loudly, like she was talking to someone hard of hearing.
“Not hungry,” Joelle said. “Can’t eat.”
“When did you last have something? You need to eat something to sustain yourself.”
“No. No, don’t want any. Thank you.”
Vic looked around the room. There were no empty dishes or trays to indicate that Joelle had eaten anything. There was a large mug on the bedside table. Erin bent over it. Tea. Loose leaves. She sniffed at it and found that it was the source of the bitter green smell that filled the room. She was unsure of the scent. It wasn’t a tea that she was familiar with, and she thought she knew most of them.
“We’ll warm some up for you,” Vic told Joelle, still half shouting at her. “I want to make sure you get a few spoonfuls inside of you, at least. You need to keep your strength up.”
Joelle shook her head weakly. Her thinness made her face and body look frail in the dim light of the room. Erin had taken care of people who were failing, and she wasn’t getting a good feeling about Joelle. Maybe she was in a lot of pain from her injury, and that was what was making her look so drawn and pale. Maybe the painkillers that had been prescribed to her were making her a bit dopey and suppressing her appetite. But Joelle did not look like the proud, vibrant young woman she had been.
Erin handed the soup container to Vic. “Would you warm it up?”
Vic opened her mouth to argue, obviously having expected Erin to do this part of the job. But she closed her mouth again and nodded. “Sure.” She took the soup container and left the room.
Erin looked around the room again slowly. “How are you doing today, Joelle?” she asked, finding herself talking loudly as Vic had done. She opened the drawer in the bedside table to check for painkillers and didn’t find anything. “Are you in a lot of pain? I heard you busted up your leg pretty good.”
Brewing Death Page 3