by J A Whiting
“I was just saying I might be the one who proposes to Rufus and not the other way around.” Courtney placed light blue napkins next to each plate.
“It’s a modern world and you are a modern young woman. Rufus would be a lucky man if you asked him to join you in marriage,” Finch said nodding his head. “A lucky man indeed.”
Courtney gave the older man a hug.
When all the food was ready, everyone took seats under the pergola that was wrapped with glimmering, tiny, white lights. When Tom lit the tiki torches standing around the periphery of the yard, they gave off a warm, golden glow.
“Thankfully, there haven’t been any more pipe bomb incidents,” Tom said as he held a platter so Jenna could scoop some potato salad onto the plate.
The chief gave a grateful nod. “I hope the perp isn’t quietly biding his time before he strikes again.”
“Any leads?” Betty asked.
The chief said, “We’re still doing interviews, talking to the neighbors and to anyone who was walking or driving past the houses on the day the bombs were left. So far, no clues and no suspects.”
“No one saw anything suspicious?” Betty asked.
“Not so far.” Chief Martin added with a positive tone in his voice. “It’s early yet. These things take time.”
Lucille, a professor of psychology at the nearby university, shook her head as she raised her wine glass. “No matter how many years Phillip works in law enforcement and I do research in my field, understanding the criminal mind never gets easier.”
“Maybe because of all the publicity, the guy is afraid to do anything more and has given up,” Jack suggested.
“It’s possible,” Lucille said, “but the more likely scenario is that the criminal is excited by all the attention he’s getting which fuels him to want to plant more bombs. My thinking is he’s biding his time, letting things cool down a little, then he’ll strike again when people think it’s over.”
“Do you think this criminal lives in Solana?” Rufus passed the bottle of wine to Tom.
“That’s hard to say,” Lucille told them. “He may have a grudge against the town for some perceived slight. He may hold grudges against the two people he targeted. Or he might not have any connection to the town or its inhabitants and is on a spree for the heck of it. He could be inspired by something he read about another person planting bombs. Without more information, it’s difficult to make a reasonable supposition.”
“What a mess,” Tom groaned. “How can you ever catch someone like this?”
“It’s not easy.” The chief let a sigh escape from his throat. “The guy makes a mistake, a passerby gets a look at him or his vehicle, a victim sees him delivering the device. Bits of information, little things we gather, some lucky breaks can all add up. We do the work and hope we find something that leads us to the perpetrator.”
“Before it happens again,” Betty said.
When the meal was over, Lucille, Betty, Rufus, and Jack cleared the table and took the dirty dishes into the house where they put the tea kettle on the stove and made coffee.
Chief Martin said, “Agnes Shield, the woman who was injured by one of the bombs is now well enough to be questioned. Another officer and I spoke with her this morning, but I’d like a couple of you to come with me to see her again. She was heavily medicated today. The doctor told me to return tomorrow afternoon and I might have better luck.”
“I can go,” Courtney looked over at Mr. Finch. “I have the afternoon off from the candy store. Unless you want to go, Mr. Finch and I’ll stay at the shop.”
“I think you should go this time. You’re very kind with older people. You might have a rapport with Mrs. Shield.”
“I have quite a few orders to get out tomorrow,” Jenna said. “I’ll go the next time.”
“I can go tomorrow,” Angie said. “Louisa and the new employees can handle the museum bake shop in the afternoon.”
Josh took his wife’s hand. “Do you feel up to helping on this investigation? You’ve just gotten over the morning sickness. You don’t want to get rundown. Ellie, Courtney, and Mr. Finch can help the chief.”
Ellie’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but decided not to protest. Criminal cases took an emotional toll an Ellie and were something she preferred to avoid, but if she had to stand-in for Jenna and Angie, she would do it … despite wishing she could help in any other way possible besides getting involved with a case.
“I’m fine now.” Angie dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “And anyway, I can’t let everyone else have all the fun. If I start to get tired or I don’t feel well, I’ll step aside and the rest of the family can take up the slack.”
A look of relief spread over Ellie’s face. “You know I’ll do it, if you and Jenna can’t.”
Courtney chuckled. “Ellie’s unspoken next sentence is, but please don’t make me.”
Ellie gave her younger sister a scowl as the others laughed knowing very well that Courtney was right.
Jenna’s facial expression turned serious. “Has Mrs. Shield lost her hand?”
Chief Martin said, “The surgeons were able to save most of the hand. She lost the ring finger and the pinky on her left hand.”
“The poor woman,” Ellie’s voice shook at the thought of someone losing part of their hand.
“At least, she didn’t lose the hand completely,” Tom said. “She’ll be able to manage just fine with the two fingers missing.”
“She’ll be having extensive rehab,” the chief told the group, “many hours of physical and occupational therapy. The outlook is positive that Mrs. Shield will be able to return to her normal life and routine.”
“Let’s hope,” Angie said, “that there aren’t any more victims who have to endure what Mrs. Shield is going through with her hand.”
“Or worse,” Courtney frowned.
5
Agnes Shield rested in her hospital bed with her eyes closed, her white pouf of hair spread out on the pillow. An IV’s tube led to the woman’s inner forearm and her left hand was wrapped in white gauze and bandages giving no hint that two of the woman’s fingers were missing.
Chief Martin spoke her name softly and Mrs. Shield’s eyes fluttered open. When she saw the chief, Agnes pushed herself into a slightly upright position.
“Hello. You were here yesterday.”
The voice was stronger than Angie was expecting.
“Yes, I was, but you were too tired to talk.” The chief approached the bed. “Are you able to answer some questions today? Are you feeling up to it?”
“I can talk with you.” Mrs. Shield let her bandaged hand rest in her lap as she shifted to look at the two young women.
Chief Martin introduced Angie and Courtney as police consultants and then he took three folding metal chairs from their position against the wall and set them near the bed so they could sit.
“How are you doing, Mrs. Shield?” Angie asked with a gentle tone.
“I’m doing okay actually.” The older woman ran her hand over her puffy white hair. “I must look a fright.”
“You look fine,” Chief Martin assured her. “You’ve been through quite a lot.”
Mrs. Shield drew in a long breath. “At least, he didn’t kill me.” She glanced down at her hand. “I can deal with this.”
“Can you tell us about the day? How it happened, what you were doing?” the chief requested.
The woman let her head rest back against the pillow. “It was a normal day. I’d been to the market in the morning. I walked two miles. I do that every day, rain or shine. There were some housekeeping tasks to get done and then I had my lunch. My husband is away with a friend of his for a few days. They enjoy camping. I don’t like it at all so I don’t go along. After lunch, I worked in the backyard on the flower garden, then I took a shower and sat down to read for a while.”
Angie, Courtney, and Chief Martin sat quietly waiting for Mrs. Shield to go on, and right before the chief was going to as
k a question to get her talking again, she spoke.
“I dozed in my chair holding my novel. I woke thinking I’d heard a noise on the porch. I went to the window to look out, but I didn’t see anyone there. I was about to return to my chair when I noticed a package near the front door so I went out to see what it was.”
Mrs. Shield bit her lower lip for a second and went on with her story. “I bent to pick it up. I remember wondering what it was because I hadn’t ordered anything. All I recall from that moment was a blinding flash of light. There must have been a sound, but I don’t remember hearing anything. The next thing I knew I was here in the hospital.” The woman shook her head slowly.
“When you went out to the porch,” Chief Martin asked, “did you notice anyone on the sidewalk or getting into a car?”
“I don’t believe I saw anyone. Some things, I just don’t remember though. The doctor told me it’s not unusual for memories to come back over time.”
“You said a noise woke you,” Angie said. “Was it the noise of a car engine? Or do you think it was more the sound of feet on the porch?”
Mrs. Shield put her hand against the side of her face. “I’m not sure what it was. I only know something caused me to stir from my nap.”
“Was the living room window open?” Courtney asked, her blue eyes looking closely at the woman’s face.
“Yes, it was. The day was warm, but not sticky or humid. I like to keep the windows open in the summer. The winter can be long, and I miss hearing the birds and having a bit of a breeze coming into the house.”
“Are you retired?” the chief asked.
“No, I work part time at the hospital. I’m a psychiatric nurse practitioner. I worked full time until I was sixty-seven and then I asked about working three days a week. The administration allowed it. I enjoy my job.”
Angie’s mind was racing over the possibilities that a patient of Mrs. Shield’s may have carried out the crime. “Is it a difficult job?”
“It can be, but most of the time things go smoothly. I like helping people manage their conditions.” Mrs. Shield yawned.
“Can you go along with our questions for a little bit longer?” the chief asked. “Or shall we end our visit and return another day?”
“I’m okay to continue. I want to help you catch this person.”
“Please let us know if you’ve had enough for the day.” The chief had a notebook on his knee and a pen in his hand. “Have you worked at the hospital for a long time?”
“I started as a registered nurse and worked for about ten years before deciding to return to school for my master’s degree. When I finished the advanced study, I was hired at the hospital. That was about twenty-five years ago so all in all, I’ve worked there for about thirty-five years … and still going strong. I like the three day a week schedule. It gives me time to do other things.”
“Do you have any hobbies?” Courtney asked the woman.
“I quilt, I garden, I like to exercise by walking daily. I read quite a lot. I take care of my four-year-old granddaughter one day a week.”
Angie sat up. “Where do you care for her? At your house or hers?”
“I go to my daughter’s house. Ava’s things are there. It’s easier.”
“Where does your daughter live?” Angie asked.
“In Silver Cove.” Mrs. Shield tried to stifle another yawn.
“Have any of your patients been difficult lately?” the chief inquired. “Was there a run-in or an altercation of any kind?”
“No, nothing.”
“Did anyone threaten you?”
“What? Good grief, no.”
“What about a patient who was angry or upset or threatening in some way? Maybe not to you, but in general or to someone in particular?”
“There are always patients who are angry and upset. It’s the nature of the field. My job is to provide mental health care to those dealing with behavioral issues or mental health disorders.”
“No one stands out to you? You can’t think of a patient who might have the desire to hurt you?” the chief questioned.
Mrs. Shield’s eyes went wide. “Hurt me? Gosh, I can’t think of anyone.”
“How about a colleague or someone else you work with or come in contact with at the hospital. Have you had words with someone or some difficulty with anyone in the workplace?”
Mrs. Shield shook her head. “No one. There are always petty annoyances when people work together, but nothing blows up into anything. Everyone works to keep friendly or polite relationships with each other.”
“How about in other places?” Angie asked. “Are you a member of any town boards? Do you do volunteer work anywhere? Any community type of activities that you’re involved in?”
“I’m involved with the garden club and I deliver meals to the elderly once a week.”
“You’re a very busy person,” Courtney smiled.
Mrs. Shield frowned. “I hope my injury doesn’t slow me down. I enjoy my routines and interactions. I’d like to continue with them.”
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to keep doing the things you enjoy,” Angie said. “Your rehab therapy will help you with any compensatory strategies you might need to adopt. I’d bet you’ll be able to return to doing anything you want to do.”
“You have a very full and active life.” Courtney nodded and then asked a question that had been picking at her. “Have you noticed anyone hanging around the neighborhood recently? Maybe someone lingering a little too long or maybe someone giving the area a lot of scrutiny?”
“Well, three days a week I’m not home until 3:30pm and one day I’m in Silver Cove with my granddaughter. I’m not at home much during the day so I can’t say if anyone suspicious is lurking around or not.”
“Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you?” the chief asked. “Has anyone you’ve known ever seemed to blow some small disagreement with you out of proportion? Maybe not anything recent?”
Mrs. Shield lay quietly for a while as she thought about the questions the chief posed to her. “Really, nothing comes to mind, certainly nothing that would cause someone to try to kill me. No, it must have been random. The front porch was a good place to leave the object. Someone coming home or going out would see it easily. Maybe the neighborhood was empty at the time the person left the bomb. There aren’t many people around when it’s warm out during the day. People are working, kids are at camp. If it’s hot, people stay inside where it’s air conditioned. Someone could easily drop something in a front yard or at the front of a house without anyone in the neighborhood seeing them do it. Unfortunately for me. I overheard some nurses say someone in town had a suspicious package in their mailbox. Is that true?”
“It’s true,” Chief Martin said. “The man heard about your accident on the news and when he spotted the package in his mailbox, he left it alone and called the police.”
“Well,” Mrs. Shield said. “Maybe some good came from what happened to me. If the man didn’t know about the bomb on my porch, he may have removed the package from his mailbox and been killed by it. Perhaps, my accident saved his life.”
6
When the bake shop closed at 3pm, Angie and Orla cleaned up the tables and floor, prepped some muffins for the next day, washed out the coffee machines, and put dishes and cups away in the cabinets.
Jenna and Mr. Finch sat on stools at the counter sipping coffee and chatting. Jenna had worked in her shop creating new jewelry pieces while waiting on customers who came into the small store at the back of the Victorian. Finch had spent the day in the candy store making fudge, tiny tarts, and several flavors of chocolates and on his way home, he decided to stop in to Angie’s bake shop for a coffee and a pastry.
“Are you enjoying working here?” Finch asked Orla.
“I love it.” Orla was cleaning out the pastry case. “I love seeing the townspeople and the tourists and since I’m an early riser, the hours are perfect for me.” The woman smiled and nodd
ed to Angie. “And the boss isn’t bad either.”
“Betty Hayes told us you and Mel are thinking of selling your house.” Jenna picked at a blueberry muffin.
Orla sighed. “We didn’t want to sell it so soon, but it’s just not the right fit for us. Mel has a bad knee and the stairs make it worse. We’d like a bedroom and bathroom on the first floor. We contacted Betty and as soon as we have a few of the rooms freshly painted, it will go on the market.”
“You plan to stay in Sweet Cove?” Finch asked.
“Oh, my, yes. We love this town.”
Talk moved to the coming babies and how Angie and Jenna were feeling.
“February will be a busy month for the Roselands,” Orla smiled. “I can’t wait to see these two cherubs. Will you be putting them in daycare while you’re working?”
Jenna set her coffee mug down. “We were thinking of hiring a nanny. Someone who would be able to take care of both of the babies.”
Angie smiled at Mr. Finch. “We have someone who is interested, but he runs a store in town and can only help out part-time.”
Orla’s eyes widened. “Victor? How wonderful. You couldn’t ask for a kinder, more loving person.”
Finch blushed. “It would be the joy of my life to care for these two precious wonders.”
Orla put her hand over her heart. “How touching.”
“The only problem is that it’s hard to find someone who will work part-time on the days Mr. Finch is at the candy store,” Angie said. “Most nannies want a fulltime position.”
“I only work part-time here at the bake shop,” Orla said. “I’d be happy to care for the children on the days Victor is working in his store.”
Angie and Jenna stared at Orla.
“You would?” Jenna asked, disbelieving. “Really?”
Orla had a wide smile on her face. “Would the children be here at the Victorian?”
Angie nodded. “We thought that would be the best thing since I’ll be working in this store most of the time and Jenna has her jewelry store and workshop here.”