Word to Death

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Word to Death Page 2

by Barbara Schlichting


  The name of Mrs. Tindall was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I pondered the question of who she was as the coffee brewed.

  Chapter Two

  The temperature continued to drop outside, bottoming out at twenty below zero when I left for home. The tires on my car squeaked as I drove into the garage stall. I stepped inside the house and shed my coat and other items. A nice hot shower was in order.

  Aaron would be home shortly, so I made cups of hot chocolate for us, placing his on the counter before heading down the hall to the bedroom. I could hardly wait for the January thaw. No, skip that, July sounded even better.

  By the time I’d toweled dry and pulled on my flannel snuggies, Aaron had brought his cup to the living room and was enjoying it. He set the cup beside him on the coffee table.

  “You’re beautiful. Did you know that?” His blue eyes glistened, and he looked so tired. “The police thanked me for the use of the store and fresh coffee. They wanted to make sure I told you.”

  “Sure. No trouble.” I finished my cup of hot chocolate and set it down. “I’m beat.” I smoothed down his messy brown hair. “How did she die?”

  “That’s the million dollar question,” Aaron replied, pulling me closer. “But we don’t think it was accidental.”

  “Why?” I stared into his eyes and yawned. “Tell me more.”

  “Head trauma,” he said, yawning. “Ongoing investigation, Miss Nosy.”

  “Give me a break. Blanche’s death is frightening. She was a nice lady.” I frowned. “This sounds like déjà vu.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Aaron said.

  “Let’s throw in a movie,” I said. “It’s too cold to be outside, and we can’t do much of anything else.”

  “I’ll find a comedy.”

  We spent the rest of the afternoon and into the evening watching television and waiting for a police call.

  “I’m hitting the sack,” Aaron finally said.

  “I’ll join you.”

  Taking my hand, we went down the hall to the bedroom. After jumping into bed, he kissed me goodnight, shut the light off, and pulled up the covers.

  “Night, baby.”

  Aaron fell asleep immediately. I stared at him in the dark, wondering how he could do that after working a crime scene. I certainly couldn’t sleep. At four in the morning, I got up to peer out the window. A white blanket of snow glistened under the streetlights—all was still and peaceful. But instead of enjoying the beauty in front of me, my thoughts went to Blanche and how fun she had been to talk with. I felt sick about her death.

  I pictured her body, remembering the manner in which she lay. It appeared as if she’d fallen on the ice. If not for the recent snowfall, the sidewalks would have been empty of snow, with little ice underfoot. Slipping didn’t fit the scenario, even though everything gets icier as the temperature drops. I figured she’d fallen and struck her head, and that caused her to black out. I had never heard of anyone slipping and falling, and then dying from it, but supposed it could happen. But, why didn’t someone find her sooner? Unless it wasn’t an accident, and there was someone nearby who did it. That notion didn’t sit well with me. I wanted to think of my street as a safe area. Blanche was relatively young, forties maybe. If she had been in her seventies or eighties, then slipping and falling might have rung true. I shook my head and tried to make sense of it, but couldn’t. Why would anyone want to kill her? It couldn’t be for her laptop, could it? I’d have to mull it over later.

  I thought about the concentric puzzle pages in the diary and about Abraham Lincoln and the Lost Speech. Where was it after all these years? I made a mental note to research it when given the first chance.

  I crawled back to bed with two thoughts spinning through my head—where the Lost Speech might be and that Blanche had possibly been murdered. Could Blanche have been killed because of what she knew about the Lost Speech??

  A frosty morning chilled me to the bone when I slipped out from under the bedcovers. I smelled bacon frying, and I heard Aaron preparing breakfast in the kitchen.

  I went over the events from the day as I dressed. My curly red hair was especially unruly, and I finally gave up and tied it back into a ponytail. I hastened down the hall to the kitchen and reached for a hot cup of coffee.

  “Morning. What time did you get up? I didn’t sleep very well.” Aaron stood a few inches taller, and I always felt like an imp beside him. I looked upward as he leaned over for a kiss, which gave me comfort and settled my anxiety about Blanche.

  “Suspected as much.” Aaron set the plate heaping with fried bacon on the table before cracking a couple of eggs. “I don’t work until later today, so I’ll take you to work. I want to make sure the security system works as it should.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t want to be alone. Can you imagine? Another dead body, and I was just getting over the last one.” I shook my head and reached for a tissue. “Blanche seemed like such a nice person.” I blew my nose. “She wanted to see my houses, and I had those new toys to show her that are part of the display.”

  “Everyone likes the houses.” Aaron dished up the eggs. “Want toast?” I went for the bread since I knew my way around a toaster.

  “Sure. Let’s just eat up. It may be a long day.” He began to eat.

  I dropped two slices down and buttered them when they popped up, setting them on the table. “You’re probably right.” I dug into my egg while pondering the situation. “What I don’t understand is, why Blanche?”

  “That’s what the detectives aim to find out. They took the dress and the hat. They’ll be contacting Inga soon, if they haven’t already, plus the people at the Mary Lincoln House. Possibly the Lexington police department also. Electronics are stolen all the time, so it depends on where the investigation leads. Her laptop could show up.” Aaron cocked his head, and asked, “Do you know what was on the laptop?”

  “A concentric puzzle similar to Luke’s. That’s why she went to the Brew Café, to see what his puzzles looked like. I wonder if she managed to talk with Luke? I meant to ask him, but Luke wasn’t at Inga’s when I arrived, something about having to fetch something from his café.”

  “Did you tell that to the detectives?”

  I thought back. “Only about the laptop, I didn’t mention Luke.”

  “You’ll have to tell them. I don’t hear much because it’s their case.”

  “I didn’t know much about her.”

  “True, neither you nor Inga knew her, except from e-mails and meeting yesterday,” Aaron said as he helped himself to the other half my toast.

  “I feel bad about the whole thing. I especially wanted her to see that uniform of Tad’s.” I checked the clock. “It’s time to go.” I finished my last bite and brought both plates to the sink. “I’m glad you’re taking me to work and staying for awhile. I feel quite unsettled.” I took a deep breath. “Ready to go?”

  “Just a sec.”

  While he took care of a few matters, I dressed in my heavy coat and scarf, boots and mittens. With my bag over my shoulder, I was ready when he returned. It didn’t take long for Aaron to slip into his outerwear.

  “Set. Let’s go,” Aaron said.

  The icy snow squeaked and scrunched under our tires as we drove up Main Street. Last night’s three-inch accumulation of snow covered tree branches, making the scene picture perfect. Straight down from my store was the old Stone Arch Bridge, a Minneapolis landmark. Frost covered the bricks and beneath the bridge, the Mississippi River was iced over—unusual for a river of that magnitude. As Aaron parked in back of the store, I noticed Max’s truck was gone.

  “I wonder if Max knows what happened or if he saw anything?” I yawned.

  “Good question, but there he is now.” Aaron nodded toward the alley where Max’s truck had appeared, coming from around the corner. “He must’ve had a hot date.”

  “We’ll see.” We climbed from the car and waited for him to park and get out of his truck. “Did you hear about Blanche?”
I asked him, wrapping my arm within Aaron’s for added warmth. “Nope… why?” Max looked haggard. “I left when Marie did.”

  “That’s right. Grandma left early. Grandpa had circled the block and returned right away for her because of the roads.”

  “August ushered her out, and I locked up. I got a call and had to leave. Figured it’d be all right.” His eyes were tired and his whiskers needed attention. If I didn’t know better, I would think he hadn’t shaved for two days, yet yesterday he looked fine. “Got caught up with something last night, so don’t look at me like that.” He stared back at me. “I had to take over an all-night gas station because Phil got sick.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside, and we’ll fill you in.” We marched to the door where I punched in the code. “Didn’t work. Must be the cold.” I punched the numbers in once again, more slowly, and then finally we were allowed entrance. “Yikes! This cold weather affects everything.”

  Still shivering, we stomped the snow from our shoes and removed our jackets, hanging them up on the clothes tree inside the workroom door. Aaron flicked on the overhead light, and Max plunked onto one of several stools arranged around the work counter. It was Max’s favorite spot. If not there carving doll’s heads, he’d be in his apartment working on the dollhouses, doing such delicate tasks as assembling windows and frames or fencing.

  “So, you didn’t hear what happened?”

  “Not really. I heard that the body of a woman was found at the end of the block but not much else.” Max stared at me, raising his eyebrow. “Don’t tell me. Not another? Oh, for crying out loud.” He reached for his pack of smokes, and then slid them back in his pocket. He knew he couldn’t light up due to so many wooden pieces and sawdust in the workroom. “Let’s hear it.”

  “The victim was Blanche. She never made it to the tea.”

  “The 911 call is also being tracked. No clue yet about who made it,” Aaron added. “The detectives are still questioning people. They talked with both Luke and Holly last night. Throw in a victim from out-of-state, and it gets tough to maneuver.”

  “It can’t be as bad as the other murder.” I looked around the room at the shelves filled with our inventory of dolls, dollhouses, and parts. “I plan to do a Google search on Blanche, just to see what I can learn about her, plus send a message to the House, to tell them I’m here if they need anything.”

  “The House?”

  “Mary Todd Lincoln House.”

  “That would be nice, but don’t interfere, Liv.” Max drummed his fingers on the counter. “We don’t want a repeat of the last time.”

  “Don’t worry. Not gonna happen.” I had narrowly escaped being murdered by someone who was searching for the Dolley Madison family secret. “I did find something interesting last night.”

  “Here it goes.” Aaron looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Something from a long time ago?”

  “The detectives left Blanche’s hat because she wasn’t wearing it. I looked inside the lid and found a drawing of a staircase. I copied the drawing and stuck the copy inside the cash register drawer last night. I’ll get it in just a minute.”

  “Here… we… go,” Max said.

  “Staircase? That almost sounds like it could be a symbol for something. Hmm,” Aaron said. “Don’t go looking for trouble, dear.”

  “Glad we’re on the same side.” Max coursed his fingers through his thick, brown, wavy hair. “I hope it wasn’t a murder.”

  “I noticed that her neck was at an odd angle.” I sat down.

  “That’s how I knew there was something wrong.”

  “Drop it Liv. You’re asking for trouble. Let the professionals do their stuff.” Aaron waited a moment then continued, “It seems that right now it’s considered a robbery gone sour.”

  “I’d rather skip this subject at the moment, at least until we hear the verdict—murder or an accident.” The thought of another murder at my doorstep gave me the heebie-jeebies. “You two can keep talking if you want. I’ve got work to do. I’m going to get ready for today’s opening.” I got up and leaned over and gave Aaron a kiss. I grabbed the Pennies for Our Troops jar and headed into the showroom. “Who wants to shovel?” I hollered. “The sidewalks need it.”

  “Yep, got it,” Aaron hollered back. He followed with the shovel in hand and headed right out the front door.

  I flipped on the light switch and set the jar down before starting the computer. I saw from the checklist that Grandma had dusted. Then I circled the room, making sure the houses were as they should be. “Mrs. Kennedy, I certainly understand why you didn’t want people in the White House. You must protect the children and your privacy.” I straightened her pink pillbox hat. “Mrs. Roosevelt, Edith, however did you manage with Teddy’s interest in hunting? The bearskin rug is huge.” Finished, I headed for the computer. After logging into my accounts, I decided I should give Inga a call before it became busy.

  “Inga? Liv here.” I recited what was known about the investigation. After, she told me the police had called to arrange a time for an interview with her. We mutually agreed to keep the other informed on the matter and hung up.

  The door opened and Aaron walked back inside. “That didn’t take long,” I said.

  “Nope. Such a mess last night, the sidewalk only needed scraping.” He walked toward the back. “I’m calling the station for an update on Blanche.”

  “Good.”

  I clicked on the House bookmark and went to their website. After finding a contact link, I sent a message letting them know what happened to Blanche, that the police were holding onto her period dress, and I had her hat. I also let them know if they needed any help with anything, I was available. After sending the message, I got up and unlocked the front door.

  No sooner had I turned the sign to Open than my cell phone rang. It was Grandma, and I told her the whole sordid story. As soon as I had disconnected, with the same promise of keeping her informed, Aaron reentered the room. His grave expression sent goose pimples up and down my spine.

  “It’s definitely murder.” He studied me. “Broken neck.”

  “Oh, my God. That’s awful.” I plunked down in my chair.

  My heart began beating hard and fast. “Poor Blanche. She didn’t deserve for this to happen. What an awfully terrible way to die.”

  “We’ll get him. You are to stay out of it.” Aaron placed his hand on my shoulder. “Right?”

  “I know. It’s just so awful.” I sighed. “I need something hot to drink. That’ll settle me, I think.” I knew it wouldn’t shove Blanche’s image from my mind, but maybe it’d soothe my nerves. “So I was right about the neck angle.”

  “No comment,” Aaron said. “The detectives will re-interview the most likely suspects, only this time the questions will be tougher to answer.”

  “I feel miserable,” I said. “I want to know who they are. I have an idea.”

  “No Liv, you’re not getting involved.” He released his hold.

  “I’ll try not to.” As I stood, I glanced at the time.

  “Oops! I almost forgot. Let me call to see if the order of cookies for the First Lady birthday celebration is ready. Will you pick it up for me, if it is?” I quickly phoned the bakery and slipped the phone back into my pocket. “It’s boxed—all twelve dozen cookies. The baker made an assortment of cutout houses and ladies.”

  “Okay. I’ll return with the hot chocolate before going to get the cookies.”

  “Thank you.” I sank into my chair once again, leaned my head into the palms of my hands and closed my eyes. I listened to the front door opening and closing.

  My inbox tinged, and I opened the new message. It was from the House. The responder was Frances, and she thanked me for writing. We vowed to stay in touch. I looked up as Max entered and said, “I’m glad you’re here. This is a terrible thing to have happened.”

  “At least it was outside the store—not inside this time. That’s one thing going for us.”<
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  “I’m going to do a Google search on her—Blanche. She was certainly quite knowledgeable.” I did a quick search on her. While the computer did its work, I mentioned, “Blanche spoke of a speech that Abraham Lincoln gave that was never completely transcribed by reporters. Ever hear of the Lost Speech before?”

  “Nope.” Max shook his head.

  “Ah, here it is.” A website came up. “It says she taught at the university and was an authority on Lincoln’s speeches. She had recently focused her research on the Lost Speech. That’s interesting.”

  “What are you getting at?” Aaron asked.

  “Well, for one thing, why hasn’t the speech ever been found?” I asked.

  “Not this again,” Max said.

  “Her website features images of Tad’s toys. One is of a very cute stuffed bear, identical to the one on display at the House.” I switched back to the House website and clicked on the e-mail for Frances. “I’m going to ask if it’s for sale. She also has a miniature dollhouse for sale that would fit my collection. I should purchase one, to put in our display.”

  “Whatever. I’m going back to work.” Max left the show room.

  I sent the message and glanced around the room. I wondered where a shelf would fit to display the three First Lady miniature houses I owned. For Christmas, three years in a row, I had received one. Mary Lincoln’s house would look spectacular beside the other three historical White Houses from the era of Madison, Adams and Jefferson. I sure would have liked that stuffed bear of Tad’s, if it was for sale.

  Blanche and I shared interests, hopefully, not the same fate.

  Chapter Three

  Grandma and Grandpa entered the store, and I fell into their arms. “There, there, now curly-top, tell us all about it,” Grandpa said.

  “It was horrible. Another murder and right outside my door!”

  Disbelief filled my mind as I recounted the story.

  “You’ll be fine, sweetheart,” Grandma said. “Let me see your beautiful eyes.”

 

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