by Ami Diane
Crazy Flo’s face scrunched in confusion, creating ripples and divots. “Who’re you?”
“Ella. We met at breakfast yesterday.”
“No. I don’t think you were there.”
Ella’s lips twitched. “Pretty sure I was. I ate my weight in banana bread. I’m the one born in 1985, remember?”
Flo grunted. “Were you the ghost at the table?”
“Er, no. I’m corporeal.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” And without so much as a goodbye, the older woman marched away.
The dining room table was bare, the naked mahogany reflecting a painting of a boat in a storm. Turning, Ella followed the source of the aroma to another door further down the hallway. It swung inwards, and she found herself in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Rose called from the stove. “Coffee?” She held up a percolator.
“Only while I’m awake.” Ella smiled gratefully and accepted the proffered, steaming cup. “You’re my new favorite person.”
Rose chuckled and returned to the stove. Today, she wore a navy dress with a raised wingtip collar, heels, and her blonde hair coiffed in a victory roll and large curls.
Ella parked herself at the informal dining table and sipped her coffee while surveying the room. The large kitchen was incongruous with the rest of the turn-of-the-century inn.
Rose’s seeming obsession with the fifties wasn’t just limited to her attire, apparently. The floor was covered in a black and white checkered pattern that matched the diner’s. The walls were a vibrant yellow, and antique appliances dotted the room.
The table was shoved under a large, picture window that overlooked the lake. The setup was cozy, more intimate compared to the formal dining in the adjacent room.
With some caffeine pumping through her, Ella reached across the maple surface of the table and peeled a gooey roll from the pan sitting in the center. The frosting melted on her tongue, mixing with bits of apple.
“Mmm… Sweet kittens, this is amazing. Is there fruit in this?”
“Yes, chopped up. It’s apple cinnamon rolls. One of Grandma Wink’s specialties.”
“Wow, it’s heavenly. I need to meet this Grandma Wink I keep hearing about.”
“I’m sure she’d love to meet you, too. She’s around. Hard to miss.”
Ella became more intrigued. After she swallowed another bite, she asked, “Where’s Jimmy?”
“Bathroom.” When Rose caught Ella’s expression, she added, “The sink in the restroom at the end of the hall is acting up. It gurgles and sounds like Jimmy’s stomach after he’s had dairy. So, he’s seeing what he can do about it.”
“Probably not eat dairy.”
“The sink, not his digestion issues.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Of course,” Rose continued, “it’s no problem if he can’t get it. William Whitehall usually comes around once a week to help with repair work.”
Ella nearly choked on her last bite of cinnamon roll. “Do you mean Will?”
Rose’s perfectly penciled eyebrow arched above her cat eye glasses, and her spatula paused mid-air. “You know Will?”
“Yeah, we met yesterday. I don’t think he’ll be around anytime soon to fix things, though.”
Ella sipped at her coffee to try to dislodge the piece of roll. Once her throat was food-free and she’d sputtered a minute for good measure, she told Rose what had happened at the diner the previous day in more detail.
Rose’s skin turned ashen. “What on earth is Sheriff Chapman thinking? Will couldn’t hurt a fly.” Her eyes flitted up to Ella. “How come you didn’t tell me this last night?”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to, but I was in a rush.” She told the innkeeper about her deal with the sheriff, which only resurfaced her anxiety about needing to hurry out of there.
Rose waved her delicate hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about the sheriff. Six occupies most of his time, anyhow. Like cat and mouse those two are. And now with Kay’s unfortunate death, Sheriff Chapman has even less time to worry about you.
“Besides, Lou won’t be up for another hour. And if it makes you feel any better, you wouldn’t have found him last night, anyway. He likes to nip off early, if you know what I mean.” She made a motion of chugging from a bottle.
“Actually, that does make me feel better. It shouldn’t. I mean, poor Lou, but we all have our vices, right?” She glanced pointedly at the coffee and apple cinnamon rolls on the table.
A comfortable lull in conversation followed, filled by the popping of bacon grease in the frying pan. Ella took the opportunity to ask a question that had been tumbling around in her mind.
“Did Kay have any health problems that you know about? A heart condition?”
Rose shook her head. Her head pivoted in Ella’s direction, but she gazed out at the drifting snow, her red lips a tight line. “This town. It takes too much, sometimes.” The comment hung heavy in the morning air.
“What do you mean?”
Rose’s expression was shuttered off, her thoughts deeply inward. “Keystone’s a great place. At least it can be. But sometimes, the cost is too high.” She blinked, shook her head, and smiled, the light returning to her eyes. “Never mind, dear.”
Ella shrugged off the strange comment. The inhabitants of Keystone seemed too quirky to judge through her normal lens.
After Rose’s comment about Lou, Ella decided she had enough time to chow down a second apple cinnamon roll. As she bit into the gooey goodness, the kitchen door swung open, and Jimmy strolled in. He kissed his wife on the cheek before greeting Ella.
“Get your car fixed yet?”
“Nope. Lou says it’ll be another couple days. I don’t understand why he can’t just get the part shipped from Salem.” When Ella saw the look of dismay on the innkeeper’s face, she added, “I’ll miss you too.”
Rose elbowed her husband.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he amended. “It’s been nice having you, but it’d be best if you left.”
“Well, with any luck, I’ll be leaving this afternoon.” Ella couldn’t hide the tinge of anger in her voice. So far, Rose was the only person she met not trying to kick her out of town.
Jimmy’s face filled with relief.
“Did you get the sink fixed?” Rose asked him.
“Yep. Half-hour ago. I was in the conservatory. Wanted to make sure that seal around the glass wasn’t leaking.”
“Wait,” Ella cut in. “There’s a conservatory here?”
Rose’s eyes shone. “Yes. In the north wing.”
“You get there through the library,” Jimmy added. He plucked a bacon strip from the pan, earning a playful smack from his wife.
Ella remembered the library but not a conservatory. Visions of reading a book in a room made of glass, surrounded by plants and snow outside, almost made her wish she didn’t have to leave so soon.
After she’d stuffed the last bite of her third apple cinnamon roll into her mouth, Ella decided to grab a quick shower. She gathered her toiletries and a change of clothes, then she stepped into one of the upstairs bathrooms.
“Oh, that won’t do.”
A clawfoot tub sat next to the wall, sans shower head. It was cute and would be great if she wanted a relaxing soak, but it wouldn’t work for a quick wash.
After a word with Rose, Ella discovered to her horror that none of the bathrooms had showers. In the end, she settled on a military shower a la wet wipes, dry shampoo, and a spritz of body spray. She set the spray aside, walked towards the door, then changed her mind and added a few more spritzes. Who knew what fresh odors she would encounter today?
As she was girding herself in her winter jacket at the front door, a clicking sound echoed over the hardwood floor behind her. She turned to see Fluffy padding towards her.
“Hey, buddy.” Crouching, Ella scratched behind his ears. “I gotta go see a guy about a car.”
He batted her hand away and sat on his fluffy haunches. She let out a sig
h. He was as temperamental as her last boyfriend.
Outside, the cool air bit her cheeks and hurt her lungs. Two steps later, she heard a meow behind her.
Fluffy was two paws into the snow, crying at her with a look of betrayal. His green and hazel flecked eyes searched the snow. Sniffing it once, he hissed and backtracked.
“Hey, no one told you to follow me. You did that to yourself,” she said, tugging her zipper up to her chin. She didn’t blame him. She wanted to hiss at the weather too.
After depositing him back inside, she closed the door. He watched her with hard eyes through a pane of glass. She wiggled her fingers, only slightly taunting him, before hopping off the stoop.
Ella made her way gingerly down the icy sidewalk of Main Street, leaning into the wind, and arrived at the mechanic’s shop in three minutes.
The garage door was already open, so she stepped into the shelter of the building. It wasn’t exactly warmer so much as less cold.
Her voice echoed over the smooth floor and walls as she called, “Hello?”
No answer. She called again, weaving between cars on ramps. Her jeep was in the back, elevated in the air on a hydraulic car lift.
Something about the scene jarred her, like stepping into an operating room with a patient’s innards laid bare.
She turned away from the vehicle and spent the next several minutes searching the building in case she’d overlooked an office or a back room hiding the mechanic.
Grease and the smell of stale beer permeated the air. It had been a good call to douse herself in perfume before leaving.
When she could no longer feel her fingers, Ella gave up and drifted back to Main Street. At least she had a good excuse if she ran into the sheriff. And as anxious as she was to get home and put Kay’s death behind her, she wasn’t looking forward to parting with her jeep.
When she reached Keystone Inn, she glanced at the railcar diner beside it. The windows of Grandma’s Kitchen were like dark, lifeless eyes staring back at her.
Hopefully, the diner wouldn’t have to remain closed much longer. It seemed a shame to deprive the public of the pleasure of a Belly Buster.
Thinking of the diner made her think of Will. The poor guy was probably still stuck in that musty cell. She didn’t think he had anything to do with Kay’s death, but if there was one thing she’d learned over the years it was that people were complicated and full of secrets.
Inside the mansion, the apple cinnamon aroma still clung to the air. She smiled as a thought occurred to her. It wasn’t much—just a small gesture—but it would be something, and small somethings could mean the world to another person.
After trekking to the kitchen, she grabbed a couple more apple cinnamon rolls and wrapped them in a cloth napkin. She stuffed them inside her jacket and retraced her steps through the front garden. Her breath puffed out in small clouds in front of her as she turned right on Main Street and marched until she could see the sheriff’s office a block away.
She was just passing the library next door when she caught movement behind the sheriff’s glass and the silhouette of a tall man with a derby hat.
Ella about-faced faster than a sneeze and ducked into an alley—the same alley Six had pulled her into the night before. She could almost smell his hay and tobacco scent now.
She peered around the edge of the brick building, momentarily distracted by the rows of books in the library window, and studied the sheriff’s office. If Sheriff Chapman was inside, she didn’t want to waltz in there without having worked out a deal with Lou yet.
Outside, an Appaloosa horse stood reined to an honest-to-goodness hitching post. The beautiful beast’s doleful eyes blinked her way, its tail swishing. Ella quickly got over her shock at seeing the equine transportation and stamped her feet for warmth as she waited.
Several minutes later, when she could no longer feel her toes, it was clear the sheriff was in no rush to leave.
Another idea began to form. It wasn’t a great one—probably in her top ten worst, right behind perming her bangs, but it would get Chapman out of the office.
Ella stole up the sidewalk and sidled up to the horse, putting it between her and the window. It eyed her warily.
She patted the horse blanket over its back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Her experience with horses didn’t expand beyond a couple pony rides growing up.
After slipping off her gloves, she worked the knot out of the reins. What should’ve been an easy task was made far too difficult with popsicle fingers.
Finally, the leather ends fell away. Ella rested them on the saddle horn and patted near the horse’s backside.
It didn’t move.
She checked to see if the sheriff was still at his desk then stood back, staring at the horse while scratching her own chin.
“Go. Shoo.” She nudged the horse. A back hoof stamped the ground in annoyance.
Ella searched her memory, recalling old western movies. She shook the reins and gave a good tap to the horse’s side. It neighed in protest and took off at a trot.
She paused in admiration at the picture of the animal prancing down a snow-covered street of old shops and street lamps before she hightailed it back to the alley.
She had just reached cover when she heard the sound of a door being thrown open. Sheriff Chapman stomped through the snow in a series of growls and obscenities as he ran after the horse.
She waited a few breaths then poked her head out. Several blocks away, the Appaloosa slipped through the yard of a white church. Chapman jogged towards it, slipping and sliding in the snow, calling and cursing it in the same sentence. Both horse and sheriff disappeared around the side of the building.
Ella slipped out of her hiding spot and stole towards the still open office door. Her conscious threatened to surface, but she figured both horse and owner could use the exercise.
She flew into the office and shut the door. Snow fell from her boots and spilled onto the mat as she rubbed her arms in an attempt to return sensation to her extremities.
In the farthest cell, a mound of blankets that was Will lay on the cot, his back to her. Ella tapped on the bars and called his name.
He rolled over, peeling an eye open. When it focused on her, he shot up. “Ella?”
Maybe it was just the heat finally making its way into her skin, but her cheeks and ears began to burn. Why was she risking the wrath of the sheriff for a stranger?
“I see you decided to stay another day,” she teased.
“Well, with comforts such as these, who can say no?” He gestured from the moth-eaten blankets to a plate topped with unidentifiable food that reminded her of something she’d once pulled from a clogged drain.
“Oh, so you probably wouldn’t want this?” She dug into her jacket pocket and unwrapped the apple cinnamon rolls. She shrugged. “More for me.”
Will flew from the cot and snatched the treat from her hand so quickly she could swear it broke the laws of physics.
Her eyebrows rose. “Er, it was soft and warm when I left the inn, but I had to wait for Chapman to leave, sorry.”
As he shoved the frosted pastry into his mouth, his eyes grew to the size of plates. “Are these Grandma Wink’s cinnamon rolls?”
“Apparently.” She watched him tear off another large chunk and stuff it into his mouth, his eyes closing.
“Ah, you’re a peach,” he said.
“A peach? Okay, grandpa.”
His eyes widened. “Don’t they say that where you’re from?”
“Nope.” She laughed when she noticed his ears turning pink. Then, his expression suddenly turned serious.
“What are you still doing here? If the sheriff finds out you haven’t left yet—”
“I’m working on it. It’s not like I can get an Uber here.”
His mouth turned down slightly at the corners.
“Any more on…” Ella paused, unsure of how to phrase the delicate question. “Do they know what happened to Kayline yet?”
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Will’s expression fell as he sank to the cot. “The coroner called a few minutes ago. From this end of the conversation, it sounds like Kay’s death wasn’t an accident. That’s where Chapman was heading when he left here. To hear what else Pauline had to say.”
Ella rested her forehead against the bars, noting the whispers of dark circles under his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Will. That’s terrible. Do you know—wait.” She pulled her head away. “Did you say the sheriff was leaving? As in, he was already walking out the door?”
“Already?”
She inwardly groaned. The whole debacle of untying the horse for a diversion had been unnecessary. “Never mind. So, why did Pauline think Kay’s death wasn’t an accident? Does that mean she’s ruled out an allergic reaction?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was but Pauline has reason to think it was intentionally caused. And with me giving Kay a present right before her passing…” his voice trailed off, and he and chewed quietly, lost in thought.
“I had a thought,” she said softly, unsure if he was listening. “I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure when someone goes into anaphylactic shock, there’s more swelling, choking, or something.”
Without looking up, he said, “Hm, but she did have a rash, and she vomited.”
“But she had the rash before you gave her the device.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw it.”
He finally looked up and met her gaze. His features arranged into—not hope, but hope adjacent.
Ella couldn’t explain all of the symptoms yet, but the more she mulled it over, the more it didn’t make sense. The vomiting. The delirium.
One word surfaced as an answer, but first, she wanted to absolutely rule out the possibility Kay’s symptoms didn’t align with that of an allergic reaction.
Will folded the inn’s cloth napkin up, eyes squinting, and she could almost see the gears turning behind his bright blue-green eyes. “Maybe she was exposed to the allergen before today.” As he slid the napkin between the bars, his fingers brushed hers. “That would make sense.”
Ella still wasn’t sure Kay’s death was the result of anaphylaxis, but instead said, “So, how does one even go about finding that out?”
