by J A Whiting
Chief Martin and Hobbs went inside to find a private place to have their discussion.
“I don’t like that guy,” Jenna sniffed. “He’s arrogant and self-important.”
“He worries me,” Angie said. “He seems like trouble.”
As Angie and Jenna shared their concerns about Andy Hobbs, Megan came onto the porch to find the sisters. With the rims of her eyes red and her face pale, she looked shaky and unsettled.
“Chief Martin asked me to talk to you.” Megan’s voice was soft and weak.
“Why don’t we go sit on the side porch,” Angie suggested.
The sun’s rays warmed the wide, white veranda which overlooked the rocky cliffs and the shimmering blue ocean and the beauty of the view almost pushed away the worry and alarm created by the morning’s event. Almost.
Megan took in a long breath and said in a shaking voice, “Now someone is after me. Now someone wants me dead. Why? What’s going on? Is the killer going to murder every person who lives in this house or does he have some grudge against only me and Perry? What did either of us do wrong?”
There were no answers to Megan’s questions so Angie focused on the syringe. “When did you find the syringe?”
“This morning. I was up early to do some studying. I made breakfast, wrote a couple of bills. I went out to my mailbox to put the envelopes inside for mailing and I saw I’d left two pieces of mail in the box from last night. The syringe was wrapped in one of the flyers.”
“You checked your mailbox last night?” Angie asked.
“I got home late. It was dark. I grabbed my mail and went inside to my room. I guess I missed a couple of things,” Megan said.
“What were the things you left behind?”
“Only two flyers. They must have been pushed to the back and I didn’t see them.”
“Or you didn’t leave any mail behind and the person who left the syringe put the flyers in to help hide it,” Angie said. “I’m guessing the person came with the syringe during the night so it would be easier to access the box without being seen.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Megan said as she rubbed at her temple.
“Has anyone made any comments to you that you might consider threatening in light of receiving the syringe?” Jenna asked.
Megan blinked, her facial expression blank as she considered the question. “I don’t think so. No, I can’t think of anything. What should I do? Should I hire some guy to walk around with me for protection?”
“Chief Martin will take care of that if he thinks it’s necessary,” Angie said in a comforting tone. “Sometimes they have an officer nearby as you go about your day just as a precaution.”
Megan sank down onto one of the chaise lounges and held her head in her hands. “Why is this happening?” She sat up. “I’m not going to classes today. I’m staying here for the day. I need to be somewhere I feel safe. Do you think it’s okay to take the day off? I can’t face walking around campus or sitting in classes.”
“I think it’s perfectly fine,” Jenna told the frightened young woman.
Angie agreed with her sister, but a nagging sense of unease pricked at her and filled her heart with dread.
24
Angie, Jenna, and Chief Martin sat together in Maribeth’s office in the boarding house.
“I have two things to report,” the chief said while running his hand through his hair. “First, Andy Hobbs tells me he was not in the yard on the night Perry was killed. He did not enter the house through the back door.”
Angie’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Andy told me he always goes in through the front door. His room is upstairs and the staircase leads off the foyer so why would he enter through the rear?”
“He’s lying,” Angie huffed.
“I asked him who he was with and he told me he was alone,” the chief said.
“This is ridiculous. Mary Bishop saw him.” Angie’s blue eyes flashed.
“Andy said he doesn’t care who told me he was in the backyard,” the chief told them. “Andy said the person or persons who claim to have seen him are mistaken. It wasn’t him out there.”
“He said this with a straight face?” Jenna’s eyes had narrowed. “He didn’t look guilty or twitchy or fidgety? Did he meet your eyes when he talked?”
“He didn’t look nervous, but he did look annoyed with my questions, and yes, he made eye contact.”
“Was he sweating? Did he do anything that might have indicated he was lying?” Angie asked.
“No sweating. No looking away. The man does come off as superior and he shows contempt for my questioning, but those things aren’t enough to assume he’s lying.”
“He’s lying.” Angie’s heart pounded with frustration and anger. “I can feel it.”
“There are no security cameras outside so all we have is one person’s word against another.” The chief shrugged a shoulder and looked at Angie. “That doesn’t mean we won’t keep an eye on Andy Hobbs, especially since you … you know, sense he isn’t telling the truth.”
“You didn’t mention Mary Bishop was the one who saw Hobbs at the door that night, did you?” Angie asked.
“I did not, but I’m sure Hobbs can figure it out since Mary’s window is the only one with a good view of the back steps,” the chief said.
A look of worry came over Angie’s face. “We should warn her.”
“I’ll speak with her before I leave,” Chief Martin said.
“You said there were two things you wanted to tell us,” Jenna said.
“Investigators have gone through security tapes of the med school library. A couple of the cameras weren’t working and one tape from the front door of the place is missing.”
Angie groaned.
“The tapes that are available do not show Charles Conte in the library after 10pm.”
“So Charles was either not in the library after ten or he was there, but in one of the sections where the security cameras weren’t working,” Jenna said. “That’s not very definitive.”
“No, it isn’t,” the chief agreed. “Road blocks at every turn. Officers are talking to students and other people who use the med school library on a regular basis asking if they remember Charles in the library after 10pm on the night of Perry’s murder.”
“Maybe someone will have seen him in there during the window of time Perry was killed,” Angie said. “Then we’ll know for certain that Charles can be taken off the suspect list.”
“What about Perry’s former girlfriend, Maura Norris?” Jenna asked. “We haven’t talked to her in a week. Have the investigators looked into where she was that night? Have they been able to cross her off the list of suspects?”
“Maura reported she was alone in her apartment in Boston the night Perry died,” Chief Martin said. “No one can confirm or deny her whereabouts.”
A frown formed on Jenna’s lips. “Where do we go from here?”
“We’ll keep sniffing out leads and following up on them,” the chief said.
On the way back to the Victorian, Angie asked Jenna, “Want to take a little detour down to the resort?”
“You want to drop in on Josh?”
“I want to sit on the Point for a few minutes. Things are a jumble in my head and I’m not picking up on things the way I usually can. I need Nana’s help.”
Jenna headed the car down to the Sweet Cove Resort, parked in the lot, and she and her sister walked over to Robin’s Point, a spit of grassy land that jutted out into the Atlantic Ocean over the colorful cliffs. When Josh and his brother purchased the resort, they made a park on the Point so that people could enjoy the view and access the path down to the small beach.
The Roselands’ nana had once owned a cottage on the point where the sisters had stayed for weeks each summer when they were children. The cottage was gone now, but Josh arranged to return a parcel of land to each of the four sisters to do with whatever they wished. So far, they were simply content to have the land i
n the family again with no plans to build on any of it.
In the mid-morning sun, Angie and Jenna settled on the soft, green grass at the edge of the cliff and watched the gulls soar overhead and the waves crash on the beach below.
“I always feel peaceful when I’m here.” Angie pulled her hair up into a loose bun and rested back on the grass. “I feel close to Nana here. I can feel her heart pulsing in my veins.”
“I feel the same way,” Jenna said, pulling her legs up under her. “A lot has changed since we were kids here. We’ve all developed powers like Nana. We’re all running businesses. You and I are married. Ellie and Courtney will probably marry their boyfriends. We have the Victorian. We have Mr. Finch in our lives.”
Without opening her eyes, Angie smiled and said, “And we have two smart, special cats in our lives, too.”
“That’s right.” Jenna listened to the waves pounding the sand. “I’d say things are pretty good.”
“I’d say you’re right.” Angie’s breathing was slow and relaxed. “There’s one thing that hasn’t changed.”
“What’s that?” Jenna asked.
“The four of us are still all together,” Angie said.
“That better not ever change.”
Angie said, “I wish Mel and Cora weren’t away on vacation. I’d like to talk to them about this case. See if they might be able to give us some tips.”
A middle-aged couple, Mel and Cora Abel met when they were both staying as guests at the bed and breakfast in the Victorian, fell in love, and decided to buy a house together in the pretty seaside town. Cora had strong paranormal powers and had helped the sisters better understand what they could do.
“They’ll be back in a week, but that might not be soon enough,” Jenna said. “Aren’t you getting your hair cut this afternoon? Why don’t you talk to Gloria?”
Angie sat up. “You know Gloria doesn’t like to talk about skills.”
Gloria owned a hair salon in town and also had paranormal powers, but unlike Cora, Gloria was closed-lipped about her abilities. She once helped the sisters when someone tried to kill them by setting the carriage house on fire, but that was the only time she’d admitted to having powers. When Angie brought it up one day, Gloria quickly shut down the discussion.
“Well, beat around the bush with her,” Jenna said. “Maybe if you ask things in an indirect way, Gloria will answer your questions.”
Angie narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Or she’ll toss me out of the salon with only one side of my hair cut.”
Jenna chuckled. “It’s worth a try. Ellie can even your hair out if necessary.”
“I don’t know,” Angie said. “I don’t want to make her angry.”
“Feel her out. Go slowly. She might soften if you explain what a hard time we’re having trying to help Chief Martin with the case.”
“How about you go in my place?” Angie asked.
“Um, no thanks.” Jenna smiled. “You’ll be much better at it than I would be.”
“I’m not falling for false flattery. Why don’t you come with me? We can both chat up Gloria while she cuts my hair.”
“Nope. This is best done one on one,” Jenna said. “So I’ll wish you luck.”
Angie sighed and asked, “Shall we head back to work? Louisa will send out a search party if I don’t get back to the bake shop soon.”
“Maybe we should just take the day off and sit here in the sun,” Jenna suggested as she stood up.
“I don’t think that idea will fly,” Angie said.
Jenna held out her hand to help her sister off the grass and when they were both standing, Angie stared at their hands with wide eyes.
“Did you feel that?” Angie asked.
“Yeah, what was it?” Jenna removed her hand from her sister’s and looked at her skin. “It felt like a huge electrical surge between us.”
“The heat was intense. It felt like fire,” Angie said. “That was really weird.”
“That’s never happened before.” Jenna was still looking at the skin on her hand to see if there might be slight burn marks.
“What does it mean?” Angie asked. “Why did it happen?”
Jenna looked at her twin sister and reached out for her hands. “Let’s see if it happens again.”
Angie slowly lifted her arms and slipped her hands into Jenna’s.
“Nothing,” Jenna said with disappointment.
“Wait,” Angie said. “I feel something.”
“Oh. It’s starting again.”
Heat began to build coming from the inside of their hands with a slight vibrating sensation added to the unusual feeling.
A smile spread over Jenna’s face. “It’s powerful. But what is it?”
“It makes me feel … strong.” Angie returned her sister’s smile. “Is it from Nana?”
“Whatever it is, I like it. It makes me feel closer to you than ever.” Jenna dropped Angie’s hands and wrapped her arms around her sister in a warm, sweet, loving embrace.
25
Angie sat in the salon chair in front of the big mirror on the wall of Gloria’s spacious, modern recently expanded hair salon. The walls were done in creamy, light grey, the newly-refinished wood floors sparkled under the fancy light fixtures, and leather chairs and sofas clustered together near a gas fireplace in the waiting area.
“The place looks beautiful,” Angie said.
“It better. It cost a bundle.” Gloria ran a comb through Angie’s shoulder-length hair. “Just a trim and a shaping today?”
“Yes, please.”
Angie and the hairstylist caught up on what had been going on since the last time Angie had been in. Gloria had spent the past six weeks stressed out over the renovations by trying to keep one side open while the other side was being worked on.
“It was a mess. The clients were good about it, but it really bothered me. You’re lucky you weren’t scheduled for a haircut during those weeks. The storage areas had been ripped out, everything was spread all over the place and we couldn’t find our supplies. It was a real headache,” Gloria said with a sigh. “I’d never go through it again.”
“But it’s gorgeous now,” Angie told her. “You must think it was worth it?”
“I guess you have to take the bitter with the sweet,” Gloria said with shrug.
Angie’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard that saying about four times in the last week.”
Gloria smiled and snipped the ends of a few strands of hair. “Really? It’s not that common. Everyone must be thinking alike right now.”
“You’ve heard about the death at Maribeth’s boarding house?” Angie brought up the subject she hoped to speak with Gloria about.
“Awful, isn’t it? I haven’t seen Maribeth since it happened. How is she doing?”
“She’s holding up despite feeling responsible. She’s berating herself for not keeping one of her boarders safe. She’s dealing with a lot of guilt over it.”
“It’s not Maribeth’s fault.” Gloria held two strands of hair in the air to judge if they were the same length. “Maribeth runs a tight ship over there. She’s very careful about safety, security, and making a pleasant environment for everyone in the house.”
“I keep telling her that,” Angie said. “But until the crime is solved, no one living there is going to feel safe.”
“Are you helping Chief Martin?” Gloria asked, keeping her voice down.
“We are, but we’re all coming up empty.” Angie made eye contact with the woman in the mirror hoping Gloria would realize that she could really use some help.
Gloria asked a few questions and Angie explained some of the details of the case, the suspects, the linguist’s determination about the suicide letter’s use of language, a resident of the house seeing two people at the back door on the night Perry was killed, and one of those people’s denial of being in the rear yard that evening. She also told about the syringe in Megan’s mailbox.
“It’s like a ball of yarn with all th
e threads mixed up together,” Angie said.
“Hmm.” Gloria seemed to be deep in thought, and then she asked, “Have you been in the backyard of the boarding house?”
“Only briefly.”
“Can you describe it to me?”
Angie did so. “And there’s a path that splits with one side going down to the beach and the other side going around to the front of the house.”
“Have you been on the paths?” Gloria asked.
The thought that she hadn’t been thorough enough raced around in Angie’s head, and she sheepishly admitted, “No, I haven’t been on the paths.”
“It couldn’t hurt I suppose.” Gloria seemed distracted. “Although the police must have walked around back there.” The woman gave herself a little shake and picked up a different pair of scissors. “Anyway, something will come up that will help resolve the case.”
Angie decided to bring something else up. “When I was in the deceased’s bedroom, I smelled an odor. It was almost a medicinal smell. Sometimes, it makes me feel ill.”
Gloria lowered the comb and leaned closer to Angie’s ear. “You might be picking up on something the killer left behind.”
“I wondered about that. Would I be able to smell the same thing if I was close to the person responsible for Perry’s death?”
“You might, but I believe it would be only the tiniest wisp of the odor. It would be very easy to miss it. In the heat of the moment of taking someone’s life, the killer left a trace of his energy behind and you’re picking up on it with your sense of smell. Keep on your toes. If the killer is in a frenzy to kill again, he or she will most likely emit the same odor. Pay attention to scents on the air, however slight,” Gloria said.
Angie nodded and thanked Gloria for her advice.
After leaving the salon, Angie decided to take a detour over to the boarding house to look around the backyard and follow the paths behind the property. She phoned Maribeth to tell her she would be in the garden, but the woman didn’t answer so she left a message.