The Bitter With The Sweet

by J A Whiting

  “Are we in danger?” Mary Bishop, a seventy-four-year old woman with soft blond hair asked the question with a trembling voice. “Was Perry killed?”

  “Killed? Why on earth would you suggest such a thing?” Roger Winthrop asked. “He hasn’t been pronounced dead. They may revive him on the way to the hospital. Perry might have some undiagnosed condition that caused him to pass out.”

  “Like what?” Mary Bishop looked pale.

  “Well, anything,” Roger said. “Diabetes. A heart issue. Low blood sugar. The flu. There are any number of things that could have caused Perry’s collapse.”

  “How did Perry look when you went in to help him?” Andy Hobbs was a thirty-five-year old, tall, slender nursing student with a short trimmed beard.

  “He was on his back,” Megan said with tears streaming down her face. “He was very pale.”

  “Did you check his vitals?” Andy asked.

  “No.” Megan flustered for a second and then gestured towards Angie. “I saw the other woman do that. We took turns doing compressions.”

  Andy turned his brown eyes onto Angie. “Did you check for a pulse?”

  “I tried to,” Angie told the small gathering. “But I’m not trained and I was hurrying. I didn’t feel a pulse, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one.”

  “Megan should have checked,” Andy scolded the pharmacy student.

  “What difference would it have made?” Megan snapped at the man. “We were trying to revive Perry. If he had a faint pulse or not, we would have done the compressions anyway. We didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious.”

  Andy looked at Angie with disdain. “Who are you again?”

  Angie bristled at the man’s tone and manner. “I’m Angie Roseland. Mr. Finch and I were delivering baked goods when Maribeth called to us for help.” Angie straightened and met Andy’s piercing look. “Do you know Perry well?”

  Andy said, “Me? Not well, no. I’ve been living in the house for about a year, but our schedules don’t match up much. We’re always at school or studying.”

  “You have meals together?” Finch asked.

  “Sometimes,” Andy explained. “The students in the house usually grab something from the kitchen for breakfast and head out to classes. Once in a while, we’re able to make the Wednesday dinners, otherwise we get something at the university or cook something for ourselves when we get back.”

  “Do any of you know Perry well?” Finch asked.

  “Perry was a nice person,” Mary Bishop said, but was immediately interrupted by Roger.

  “Why use the past tense when you describe Perry?” Roger reprimanded the woman. “We don’t know for sure that he has passed on.”

  Mary glared at the man. “Perry is a nice person,” she repeated. “He is very nice to talk to. He took the time to get to know us, always asked how we were. He’ll make a very kind doctor.”

  “Is Perry married?” Angie asked.

  “No, he isn’t,” Mary said.

  “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  “No,” Megan said brushing at her eyes with her fingers. “Perry is super busy. He doesn’t really have a lot of time to date.”

  “Where is the young man from?” Finch asked.

  “Perry is from Maine,” Roger said.

  “What about family?”

  “He’s an only child,” Megan said.

  “His parents passed away a few years ago,” Andy told them.

  “Any close relatives?” Angie questioned.

  “He has an uncle he’s mentioned several times,” Mary said.

  “How long has Perry lived in the house?” Finch asked.

  Megan spoke up. “Perry’s a second year med student. He moved in here when he started med school.”

  “What about the rest of you?” Angie asked. “How long have you lived here?”

  “I’ve been here the longest. Three years for me,” Roger said.

  “I moved in two years ago,” Mary said. “Following the death of my husband.”

  “I’ve been living here for almost two years,” Megan said.

  “Does anyone else live in the house?” Angie asked.

  “There’s one room open,” Roger said. “An elderly resident moved away last month to a nursing home. No one has taken a lease for the room yet.”

  “Maribeth lives here, of course,” Mary pointed out.

  Angie nodded. “Does Perry have any enemies?”

  Mary’s hand flew to her chest. “Enemies?”

  “Why do you ask that?” Roger demanded. “Do you think someone tried to hurt Perry?”

  “Just wondering about the circumstances of Perry’s life,” Angie explained.

  “Did Perry have any arguments with anyone recently?” Finch asked.

  The residents looked at one another and shook their heads or shrugged.

  “Perry never said anything about an argument or not getting along with anyone,” Megan said. “Perry is well-liked. He gets along with everyone.”

  Angie thought there was probably someone who didn’t get along with Perry since she was pretty sure the young man had died in his room a few hours ago.

  The sliding wooden doors opened to reveal a tired-looking Chief Martin who solemnly entered the room with Maribeth Perkins. The woman held the chief’s arm and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

  “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Police Chief Phillip Martin. I’m very sorry to report that your housemate, Perry Wildwood, has passed away.”

  Gasps went around the room.

  Megan sank into a chair and sobbed.

  “I knew it.” Tears ran down Mary Bishop’s face, but her expression was one of anger. “I knew Perry had passed. Was he murdered?”

  “What makes you ask that?” the chief questioned.

  “He was twenty-five-years old,” Mary said brushing at her cheek. “People that age don’t just die in their sleep.”

  “It is possible for someone that age to pass away from an undiagnosed problem,” the chief pointed out. “We will, however, be looking into the man’s death for the cause.”

  “Are we in danger?” Mary demanded.

  “There’s no reason to believe you’re in any danger,” the chief said kindly. “We’ll investigate closely to be certain this is an isolated incident.”

  Angie caught the chief’s eye and gestured to the door. Chief Martin gave a quick nod to acknowledge Angie’s and Finch’s departure.

  On the way to the car, Finch held Angie’s arm as they made their way down the front steps of the beautiful, old house.

  “There’s a lot going on here, Miss Angie,” Finch said. “I think we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

  As she opened the passenger side door for Mr. Finch, the young woman took a quick glance back to the house and shuddered. “You can say that again.”

  3

  “Chief Martin will be asking all of us to investigate.” Standing in the large kitchen of the Victorian mansion she’d inherited from a distant relative, Angie used a spatula to fold sour cream into the brownie mixture she was preparing.

  “What do you think went on in that boarding house?” Ellie, the middle Roseland sister, had long blond hair and a slim build. She was the one family member who did not appreciate paranormal powers and wished their abilities would disappear, but she had used her telekinesis skills more than once to protect her sisters and Mr. Finch when trouble headed their way.

  The two family cats sat on top of the refrigerator listening to the women’s conversation. Euclid, a huge orange Maine Coon, and Circe, a small black cat with a little patch of white on her chest, paid close attention to what the sisters were saying.

  Angie cocked her head to the side. “Perry Wildwood did not die from natural causes. I’m sure about that, but I have no idea who had a hand in taking his life or why.”

  Ellie placed a variety of cookies onto the white platter for the bed and breakfast guests. “So he was murdered,” she said with resignation. “Wha
t happened? The killer snuck into the house and attacked the man while he slept?”

  “That’s possible.” Angie slipped a baking pan into the oven. “It could also have been someone who was inside the house as a guest or a friend visiting someone he or she knew.”

  “Or maybe it was someone who lived there,” Ellie suggested with narrowed eyes. “Does Maribeth keep track of people coming and going?”

  “I don’t think so.” Angie gave a quick shrug.

  “This will be difficult then.” Ellie put a few strawberries around the cookie platter to give it a nice appearance. “When you and Mr. Finch spoke briefly with the residents, did you get an idea what Perry was like?”

  “Very superficially.” Angie mixed together ingredients for the chocolate frosting. “They all seemed to like him.”

  Courtney came into the kitchen through the back door of the Victorian. “Hi, all. What’s cookin’?” Of the four siblings, the youngest Roseland sister resembled Angie the most with her honey-blond hair and blue eyes.

  “Plenty,” Angie said.

  Courtney poured cereal into a bowl and added some milk before taking her snack to the kitchen island and sitting down. “Yeah? Like what?” she asked wiping some drops of milk from her lip.

  “Someone died at the boarding house,” Ellie said before heading for the dining room to put out the cookies.

  “I heard people talking about that when I was working at the candy store.” Courtney chuckled as she lifted her spoon to her lips. “Some people said someone was murdered there.”

  “Why are you laughing about that?” Ellie asked before stepping into the hallway.

  “Because the idea is silly. Who’d get murdered at Maribeth’s boarding house?” Courtney asked. “I thought it might have been an elderly resident who passed away and the tourists were being dramatic turning it into a murder.”

  “Angie will tell you about it.” Ellie left the kitchen.

  Courtney swallowed her spoonful of cereal and looked to her sister. “Tell me what? Wait. Did someone get murdered at the boarding house?”

  “It seems someone did.” Angie gave a nod and told Courtney what had transpired when she and Finch were making deliveries that morning.

  “Mr. Finch was with you? I haven’t seen him today. It was his day off.” Courtney and Finch owned a popular candy shop located in the center of Sweet Cove. “It was a young guy who died? Did someone shoot him?”

  “There wasn’t any blood on the body that I could see. I think he was dead for a least a couple of hours,” Angie said.

  “Drug overdose?” Courtney questioned.

  “Possibly.”

  “Could it have been intentional? Did the med student take his own life?”

  “It’s not the feeling I get.” Angie removed a frying pan from the cabinet.

  “What else do you know about the man?” Courtney asked.

  “He was a second-year medical school student. The people in the house claimed he was well-liked. His name was Perry Wildwood. No brothers or sisters. His parents are dead. He was from Maine.” Angie washed vegetables in the sink and then began to chop and dice them. “That’s all I know.”

  “Girlfriend?” Courtney asked.

  “No. The residents said he was too busy right now to get involved in a relationship,” Angie told her sister.

  “I wonder,” Courtney thought over the facts. “He may have dated or had a fling with someone at school or maybe with someone he met in a bar. The person may not have liked Perry’s noncommittal ways.”

  Angie looked over. “And then what? Killed him because Perry didn’t have time to invest in a relationship?”

  “Sure. There are a lot of nuts out there.”

  Euclid let out a loud hiss.

  Courtney got up to make tea. “See. Euclid agrees with me.”

  Jenna, Angie’s fraternal twin sister, came into the kitchen. Because she was taller than Angie and had long, dark brown hair, it often took some convincing to persuade people that the two really were twins. “What does Euclid agree with?”

  Courtney put the kettle on the stove. “He agrees that someone could kill another person without having a good reason.”

  Jenna looked from one sister to the other. “Have I missed something? Did something happen?”

  “A young man boarding at Maribeth’s house got killed last night.” Courtney set some mugs on the counter.

  “Killed? Who was it? Who did it?” Jenna went to the stove to help Angie make dinner.

  Angie and Courtney took turns relaying the information.

  “We don’t know much,” Angie said.

  “Chief Martin wants us to help with the case?” Jenna asked.

  “He does,” Courtney said with a delighted tone. “I was wondering when the next case would come along.”

  “I was hoping we could take the summer off from investigating.” Angie stirred the simmering tomato sauce.

  “If we do that, then we’ll get rusty. We need to keep our skills sharp,” Courtney said.

  “We had a case just a month ago,” Angie protested. “We could have a few months off in between crimes and still maintain our abilities.”

  “Well, duty calls.” Courtney poured the hot water into the mugs. “And when it calls, we have to answer.”

  Angie let out a sigh. “It’s just that there’s a lot going on right now. These cases take a lot of energy.”

  “We’ll pace ourselves.” Jenna patted her twin on the back. “Tom’s coming for dinner. He’s finishing up for the day and then he’ll head over.” Jenna and Tom, who owned a construction and rehab company, had been married for just over a year and lived in a big, old house two doors down from the Victorian.

  Mr. Finch came in from the back door. “Look who I found outside.”

  Josh Williams, Angie’s husband of one month, spotted her at the stove and hurried over. Wrapping her in his arms, he gave her a sweet kiss. They’d been texting all day about what Angie and Finch had discovered at the boarding house.

  “Is there anything new?” Josh asked.

  “Nothing yet. Chief Martin will let us know as soon as he hears word from the medical examiner.” Angie covered the big pot to let the sauce continue to simmer.

  “I assume the chief will bring all of you into the investigation,” Josh said.

  “From the sound of things,” Courtney told her brother-in-law, “Chief Martin will be needing our help.”

  Josh, tall, with sandy-colored hair and an athletic build, owned the Sweet Cove Resort and Hotel and he and his brother were business partners running a real estate development company. “The chief is lucky to have your assistance.”

  Circe arched her back in a long stretch and then she and Euclid jumped down off the refrigerator to greet Mr. Finch and Josh. The men reached down to pat the felines whose purrs filled the air.

  “Why don’t the cats ever greet me that way?” Courtney asked.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Jenna smiled. “They don’t greet me either.”

  “They have a soft spot for Mr. Finch,” Ellie said. “And Josh living here is still a novelty.”

  “You mean they don’t have a soft spot for me like they do for Mr. Finch?” Josh made a mock sad face.

  “Sorry.” Angie put her arm around her husband’s waist. “There’s only one Mr. Finch.”

  “Well, maybe I can come in second place,” Josh hoped.

  Circe looked up at Josh and trilled.

  The family sat down at the big, glossy, wooden table in the dining room off the foyer to enjoy the dinner of lasagna, homemade meatballs, salad, and garlic bread. Angie noticed that an extra place setting had been added to the table, but she didn’t ask Ellie why.

  “I’m going to meet with the museum director in a few days to go over what needs to be done to put a second location of the bake shop in the museum,” Angie told the group. “I did tell him I’m not convinced it’s the best thing for me to do right now, but he talked me into a meeting.”

  �
��I think he’s going to talk you into it,” Courtney said.

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Finch said, “but it has to work for Miss Angie and her future plans.”

  “I don’t want to dilute the brand,” Angie said. “I’m not sure it’s the right move.”

  Tom sipped from his glass of wine. “I think it will only strengthen your brand. It will bring the bake shop to the attention of people who don’t come into town much. It will build the business and give it more exposure.”

  Angie listened to the family’s opinions and promised to give it serious thought.

  Ellie passed the bread basket to Mr. Finch. “What time did you say Chief Martin was coming by?”

  While everyone gave Ellie a sideways look, the cats stared down at her from their perch on top of the tall hutch. Ellie often had the feeling that someone was on the way to the house before that person showed up.

  “I didn’t say,” Angie told her sister. “He’s waiting for the results from the medical examiner. I don’t know when he’ll have the information for us.”

  Before anyone else could say something, and as if right on cue, the doorbell rang.

  4

  “Sorry I didn’t call first. I was coming by this way and decided to see if you were at home.” Chief Martin stood on the front porch.

  “It’s fine,” Courtney said with a smile. “We’re just sitting down to dinner. Come and join us. Ellie set a place for you.”

  The chief stepped into the foyer. “Did she? How did she know I was ….?” He let his sentence trail off. “Oh. Right.”

  The family greeted the man warmly, the cats trilled at him, he took a seat, and Courtney passed the food over.

  “Smells delicious. As always.” The chief placed a hearty square of lasagna on his plate. “Lucille is out with friends this evening so I was on my own for dinner. I appreciate the meal.”

  Mr. Finch asked, “You have news, Phillip?”