Lights Out at the Lighthouse

by Danielle Collins

  “I suppose you’re right. Did you know the man? Gerald?” she asked.

  “A little,” Henrietta admitted. She explained how she’d met him a few times and that he’d always seemed like such a happy person.

  “You say that as if they think it’s suicide.” Olivia turned from the computer to look at Henrietta.

  “It was all in the paper.”

  “They didn’t say suicide.” Her eyes were wide.

  “Didn’t they?” Henrietta reached for the article and read it through quickly again. “Hum. Perhaps they didn’t. I suppose it was just in the wording. It at least sounds as if they suspect it.”

  Olivia shook her head. “You amaze me, Henrietta. Even reading a newspaper article, you’re coming up with theories about things.”

  “Hardly,” she said with a gentle smile. “But I can’t turn off my critical thinking. Perhaps we’ll learn more about it in tomorrow’s paper.”

  “You think they’ll write about it again?” The young woman looked shocked.

  “Of course. It’s front-page news.”

  The phone rang, startling Olivia, and Henrietta reached for it. “H.H. Antiques, this is Henrietta speaking.”

  “Henri, it’s Ralph.”

  “Good morning, Ralph,” she said, looking back at the layout of the dance hall. She was almost done with her selections for each section they would be decorating. “How are you?”

  “I need you to come over to the office.” The tension in his voice indicated something was amiss, but he hadn’t chosen to give any details, so she had to assume he’d rather discuss it with her in person.

  “I’ll be right over.” She hung up and turned to Olivia. “I have to run an errand. Will you be all right here by yourself?”

  “Yes, of course. Things have been pretty slow. Well, except for the dance preparations, of course.”

  “Of course,” Henrietta laughed. “I’ll be back soon, and we’ll tackle the rest of this plan.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Henrietta grabbed her coat and umbrella and set off for Ralph’s office. Since the weather wasn’t good and more rain was predicted for the rest of the day, she took her Mini Cooper and zipped over. She parked in back next to Ralph’s large, gas-guzzling truck and hopped out, narrowly avoiding a puddle.

  “Hello?” she called out as she went in the back door. It had been unlocked, so she assumed Ralph had anticipated her coming that way, but she wanted to be sure. It was always best to announce oneself when entering an office where firearms were kept. While Ralph and his son and business partner, Scott, enacted the best of gun safety procedures, one could never be too careful.

  “In here,” Ralph called out. She knew his voice came from his office to the right of the hall. Across from it was another, smaller office which mostly held supplies and things they might use in their line of work. Scott’s desk was at the front of the glass-fronted office, where he could keep an eye on the door while also doing work.

  When she pushed the door in, she saw a young woman sitting across from Ralph, a tissue to her eyes. Henrietta took one look at the young woman and then looked to Ralph.

  “I assume we’ve been brought in on Gerald Folsom’s alleged suicide, then?”

  Henrietta had often been told as a child that she was too blunt. It was one of her worst traits, one she tried to overcome by softening her responses and tempering her words, but it didn’t always work. This was one such situation where, immediately following her words, she wished she had thought them through in a more rational way.

  She wished she would have thought about who the young woman was. Not the fact that she was obviously related to Gerald, but the reality that, if she were, she would be having a difficult time with his death.

  Also, she should have had the tact to consider how her blanket statement would be taken. The moment the words left her mouth, Ralph’s grimace made it abundantly clear she would need to apologize for her carelessness. Thankfully, she wasn’t too proud to admit when she was wrong.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” she said, coming the rest of the way into the room. “That came out wrong.”

  The woman, whose red-rimmed eyes told a story of loss, shook her head, sniffing. “Actually, I appreciate your keen insight and honesty. My name is Amelia. I’m Gerald’s daughter.”

  Henrietta couldn’t keep the surprise from her face. “I…well, I’m glad. It’s nice to meet you. And I am so sorry to hear of your father’s death. Despite my somewhat calloused words, I only consider time of the essence in a matter like this.”

  “Of course.” Amelia sniffed again, and then her back straightened as if she were pulling herself together. “Another thing I appreciate is the fact that you said alleged. I know for a fact that my father didn’t kill himself, and I need you two to prove it.”

  “You say fact,” Ralph interjected. “What do you mean?”

  “I suppose fact is the wrong word to use.” She bit her lip, looking down at the Kleenex in her hand. “But I just know he wouldn’t have killed himself. He had so much to live for, and…” She broke down into tears again. “I know he wouldn’t have done this to me.”

  Henrietta filed this information away for later, knowing that a feeling wasn’t hard evidence, but that it would go toward establishing a mindset for the man. If his daughter was sure that he wouldn’t have done this, Henrietta felt they could take her word for it, unless they found evidence to the contrary.

  “We’re very sorry for your loss, Miss Folsom,” she said. “We know this is a difficult time for you, but we want to assure you that we’ll do our very best to find out what really happened to your father. Then again, it does seem early to know that they’ve ruled it a suicide. We may be surprised to learn that they find evidence against that thought, and then it would be out of our hands.”

  “That new detective has his mind set,” the young woman said between sniffs. “He wouldn’t even let me explain why my father would never have committed suicide. Just passed me off to some officer to take a statement.”

  “New…detective?” Henrietta said, looking over at Ralph for confirmation.

  “I—” He opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment. “I don’t know who that is.”

  “Some big shot. I don’t know. He’s not from around here, that’s for sure. Anyway,” Amelia said, picking up her purse. “I’m sorry to hire you and run, but there are so many arrangements that I have to take care of. Please keep me updated on your progress.”

  They said their goodbyes, and then Henrietta turned to Ralph when Amelia had gone. “New detective?”

  “I had no idea they were getting one. Where did he come from, that’s my question? Did he transfer in?” He shot to his feet and began pacing back and forth. She could tell this unexpected news from his former department bothered him, but she also knew there was nothing he could do about it at this point. Still, reminding him of that would do no good.

  She allowed him to walk off his curiosity, and then brought things back to the matter at hand. “Where do we start on this, Ralph?”

  He finally paused, turning to look at her. “I’m going to start by finding out who this hot shot is. I need some more information on Gerald’s death, anyway. I’m going to see if I can talk to the medical examiner, or at least one of my buddies there. We need to see what they rule this before we go poking around too much.”

  Henrietta nodded, standing. “I suppose you didn’t need me here for this.” She raised her eyebrow in a challenge to him. Why had he brought her here?

  “No, not for this, but I did need for you to meet Amelia.”

  “You don’t think she had anything to do with this, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. It wouldn’t make any sense for her to hire us if she had done something to her old man.”

  Henrietta cringed at his bluntness, but she knew what he meant. It wouldn’t make sense for her to bring attention to the fact it wasn’t a suicide, unless she had a good reason to believe otherwise.


  “I’m glad you called, then. I think she seems trustworthy—either that, or she’s a very good actress.”

  “You’ve got a good point.” He stood again and came around his desk. “Thanks for coming over on such short notice. I knew it wouldn’t take long, but I’m glad you could come. I’ll walk you out.”

  “Heading over to the police station?”

  “Not quite.” A grin split his occasionally gruff face. “In fact, I’m going to the deli across from the police station.” The twinkle in his eye made Henrietta laugh. “That’s where all the true information is gathered.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, unlocking her car and slipping inside. “Happy hunting.”

  3

  Slowly but surely, they were going to make this year’s Valentine’s dance the best one Hearts Grove had seen. Or at least, that was Henrietta’s hope. While not one to indulge in much dancing or even large parties, she did find that she enjoyed creating small vignettes around the room of the restored dance hall.

  She and Olivia had been at the hall all that morning, double- and triple-checking that their plans would work, measuring several times in some places to see if the pieces they had in mind would fit.

  They had just made it back to the shop, opening it an hour later than usual, but Henrietta wasn’t worried too much about shoppers. February was usually a very slow season, and the time she would have taken to clean or reorganize things had just been reallocated to dance decorations.

  “I think my favorite one will be the living room scene with the Victrola. It’s like a little picture of history in every corner. When people aren’t dancing, they’ll be enamored by what you’re putting together, Henrietta.”

  “Thank you so much for saying that, Olivia,” she said, smiling over at her younger employee. “I think I’m enjoying myself more than I would have expected. But I may be entering into a little bit of distraction. You see, I went over to—”

  “Hellooooo,” a cherry voice called out from the front of the shop.

  Both women looked up to see Gina Russo, owner of Espresso Yourself, the coffee shop next door to H.H. Antiques.

  “Gina,” Henrietta said brightly. “What are you doing here? And what have you brought?”

  “I thought you ladies might like a little pick-me-up. I’ve got my girl over there filling in for me, so I wanted to run these lattes over.”

  “Oh, yum,” Olivia said, accepting the hot beverage from Gina.

  “I also brought lemon scones. It’s not the season for them, but I just couldn’t take this dreary weather. I figure we all need a little bit of lemon in our lives in the winter time.”

  “Agreed,” Olivia said as she bit into a scone. “These are delicious.”

  “Thank you so much, Gina,” Henrietta said, accepting her own scone and latte.

  “Anytime. How are you ladies doing? I saw you coming back just a little bit ago. I’m assuming you were working at the dance hall?”

  They chatted about the dance, and Henrietta shared a little of her vision for the evening. As one of the sponsors, Gina was overly thrilled to hear of the fantastic details that were being put into the dance.

  “I really think it has a chance at making the city some money, as well as lightening the mood.” Gina shook her head. “This news about Gerald has hit the town hard.”

  Henrietta nodded solemnly. “It is so sad.”

  “I mean, poor Amelia. That girl does not need this right now. Well, no one needs this, but you know what I mean.”

  “Actually,” Henrietta narrowed her eyes. “I don’t. Do you know Amelia?”

  “Oh sure, she and I are in a book club together. We met at the library meetings a few years back, and then joined this club. It’s been a lot of fun, but now this…I feel so bad for her.”

  “I had no idea you knew her.”

  “Yeah, I mean the poor thing is planning her wedding. Talk about a shocker.”

  “Wedding? I didn’t know she was engaged.” Henrietta thought back to their meeting. She hadn’t seen a wedding ring, but it was completely possible that it was getting sized.

  “Yep. I think they’ve been engaged about six months now? But this had to change a lot for them. Then again, she seems really in love, so I doubt she’ll postpone the wedding. But talk about a dark cloud.” Gina shook her head.

  “That is so sad,” Olivia said. She’d been following the conversation like she was watching a tennis match.

  “I’d better get back to the shop. The new girl does well, but I don’t like to leave her for too long. Enjoy those drinks, ladies.” She waved a hand over her head and trotted back to the front door.

  Henrietta watched her go, thinking on this new information. Amelia was engaged to be married, planning a wedding, and her father had committed suicide? Bearing on whether they had a good relationship or not, it seemed unlikely that a man with that much to look forward to would take his own life.

  Later that afternoon, Henrietta stood from her seat behind the cash register and stretched. It had been a slow afternoon and they’d only had two customers in three hours. She had considered sending Olivia home, but her employee had insisted that she was making headway on the book cataloguing and listing, so Henrietta had said she could stay.

  She heard her phone buzz and picked it up, surprised to see a message from Ralph. He didn’t often text, preferring to call instead, but sometimes he sent a written message. It was simple and to the point, asking her to come to his office if she had the time.

  When she popped her head into the back room, she caught Olivia with her nose mere inches from a page, inspecting it.

  “You look much too familiar with those books.”

  Olivia jumped back, startled. “I didn’t see you there. And yes, we’ve become good friends.”

  “I can see that.” Henrietta looked over the stack of finished books. “You’ve made some great headway. It’s amazing what you can do when you don’t have customers bothering you every few minutes.”

  “That it is.”

  “I’m going to go over and see Ralph. I have a feeling it has something to do with this potential case we’ll be working.”

  “Do you want me to come out to the front?”

  “No,” Henrietta shook her head. “I think I’m just going to close early. You can feel free to stay until closing, or go when you’ve finished up that book. Either is fine with me.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Just don’t work too hard, all right?”

  “I won’t,” she said with a smile.

  Henrietta took her coat from the hook and slipped it on, pulling her purse over her shoulder before heading out to her car. The drive to Ralph’s took little time, and soon she was making her way back down the hall toward the office she’d found him in the last time.

  She heard voices and immediately recognized Amelia’s bright tone. So, this was about their case.

  “Hello,” she said, pushing the door in.

  “Glad you could make it,” Ralph said.

  “Hello again,” Amelia said.

  Henrietta sat and looked between them. “What is this about?”

  “My father’s death was officially ruled a suicide,” Amelia said. While tears moistened her eyes, they didn’t fall this time.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “As am I. They wouldn’t hear my side of things, saying that it’s just ‘that time of year’. It’s ridiculous. My father loved cloudy weather. Either way, I’d for sure like to hire you, Mr. Gershwin. I want you to prove that my father’s death was not a suicide.”

  “Hold on there,” Ralph said, holding up a hand. “We’ll do our best to investigate your father’s death, but you need to know that we’ll go where the clues take us, no matter the outcome.”

  “I understand. I’m confident you’ll find that he never would have taken himself from this world willingly.”

  Her words sent a chill down Henrietta’s spine, but she appreciated the woman’
s boldness.

  “I, too, believe that there were too many things for him to live for. Like your upcoming wedding, for one.”

  Amelia looked down at her hands, a sad smile on her face. “It’s hard to be excited and happy about it in the middle of such a tragedy, but I am looking forward to my wedding. But now, without my father…” Now the tears did fall.

  “Don’t you worry, Miss Folsom, we’ll figure this out. Don’t you worry.”

  “Thank you,” she sputtered. “It’s all so fresh, you know.”

  “Of course,” Henrietta said, patting her gently on the arm. “We’ll do the best we can, and as quickly as we can.”

  The distraught woman offered a weak smile to them both before taking her leave of Ralph’s office.

  When they were alone, he turned to her with raised eyes. “We? I gather you’ll be helping me on the case, then?”

  “Isn’t that why you invited me over here both times?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, “but I also didn’t want to assume that you’d just hop on board. I mean, you do have the dance to think about.”

  She laughed. “Olivia and I could decorate for that dance in our sleep,” she said with a wink. “Thankfully we won’t have to. My shop is so slow, I’d be happy for a distraction. Then again, I think of this as a priority. I liked Gerald Folsom, and I’d like to see the truth of his death come to light.

  “Same here.” Ralph pulled out a yellow pad with writing all over it. “I took some notes before you came. I think the best way to do this is divide and conquer.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve got Scott looking into things in his free time, but he’s been busy with cases for the local force. They have him contracted, which is the best thing for him in this slow season.”

  “I agree.”

  “Anyway, I’ll get working on the actual case and see if I can’t get more details from my guy.”

  “How did that meeting go, anyway?”

  He huffed out a breath. “It didn’t. He never showed up for his usual lunch. I got worried and shot him a message, but he said he was too busy with everything going on. Sounded cryptic to me, but we’ve got a meeting scheduled for tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll find out some good stuff there.”