Look Always Forward (Bellingwood Book 11)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "We'll check it out." Aaron creased his brow. "Were you opening tomorrow?"

  "Jeff was planning to. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of it until we get the kinks out. Just let people find us when they do. He's going to have a big grand opening later this fall. The employees need time to get their feet under them."

  "And this girl was one of your new employees?"

  "Yeah. I don't know her, but I can get into the employee records back at Sycamore House and find information. Do you want Jeff to come up tonight?"

  "He'll be here in the morning. That's soon enough. Have you spoken with him?"

  "Yes, while I was waiting for you."

  "Sheriff?" One of the deputies called and Aaron walked away.

  "How are you doing?" Henry asked, coming up to stand beside her.

  "Sal's mad at me. I yelled at her."

  "You knew it wasn't going to be easy."

  Polly bit her lips together. "She drives me crazy. Always worried about the silliest things. She believes this place has a jinx on it now. It didn't matter that one of her employees had been killed. The only thing she worried about was whether it had happened inside or not and if it was going to mess up the building."

  "Do we need to discuss finding money so you can buy the rest of this from her?" Henry asked.

  "It crossed my mind. But I'm not ready to do that yet. She's poured so much of herself into this." Polly stopped. "And yes, I understand that's why she's so upset. But still ... property versus people. Will she ever learn the difference?"

  "She's never had to be responsible for people before."

  "The thing is," Polly said. "This is exactly what makes her so angry with her mother. This same behavior. She sees it in her mom, but has no concept that she's doing the same thing."

  "If you yell at her a couple more times, she'll figure it out," he said. "Do we need to stick around?"

  "I'll ask Aaron. You didn't happen to bring keys, did you?"

  Henry pulled out two sets. "I brought the extra set. Figured maybe he'd lock it down when he was finished."

  They found Aaron and gave him the keys, which he promptly turned over to Stu Decker.

  While they were walking home, Polly heard her name being called. Turning toward the sound, they saw Jessie and Rebecca pushing a stroller.

  "What are you two doing out?" Polly asked when they got close to each other.

  "There was all of this excitement down here and we had to find out what was happening," Jessie said. She had moved into the apartment building that Sylvie and the boys used to live in. It was only a couple of blocks from the main downtown area.

  Polly had hoped a relationship might happen between Jessie and Stephanie. Sharing expenses would have helped both girls, but neither was interested in an adult roommate. They had their own girls to raise. It made sense. It was hard enough having a husband in the same house some days. At least he knew better than to judge her when she didn't clean the place right away.

  The truth was, even though having a roommate through college was one thing, she was glad when she moved into her own apartment. It had been a struggle at first. There were times when going to the grocery store was the only shopping she could afford. And other times when a surprise gift from her father was what put toilet paper in her bathroom.

  If she thought about it, though, those were some of the strongest memories she had of her days in Boston and she was proud of herself for having made it through them.

  Rebecca stopped in front of Polly and asked with a little condescension, "Did you find another dead body? Is that why you're here?"

  Polly nodded, the seriousness of the evening falling on her. "I did. The Sheriff is taking care of her now."

  The girl's mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide. "Was it at the coffee shop?"

  "It was out back," Polly said, nodding. "And once the Sheriff is done, you will have to come back up and re-shelve those books. Someone pulled them all down. The coffee shop is a mess."

  "Who died?" Jessie asked.

  Polly started to speak, but stopped when Henry took her hand. He gave a slight shake of his head and she smiled back at him. "Let's not talk about that tonight. I want the sheriff to do his job and then we'll talk after he contacts the family. Is that okay?"

  "Okay," Jessie said. "I hope it's not someone we know." Then she screwed up her face. "It's bad that it is anyone, but if it's a friend, that makes it worse."

  "It isn't anyone you know well. I promise," Polly looked into the stroller. Molly had a toy in her hands and was making small noises. "How are things with her?"

  "She should be in bed now," Rebecca said. "But we wanted to see what was happening. We're going to make popcorn and watch a movie after she goes to sleep."

  "Then you two should get back and start your evening," Henry said. "We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

  He took Polly's hand as they watched the two girls walk back toward the apartment building. "It's so strange to realize that we're parents and responsible for a child's upbringing," he said.

  Polly huffed a chuckle. "It makes me nervous. I still think of myself as barely an adult and now I'm supposed to teach her how to grow up."

  "You have me," he said.

  She looked at him to see if he was serious. The grin on his lips made her smile.

  "Yes I do. You can be the adult when I forget how," she said.

  The girls turned a corner and Polly and Henry continued toward Sycamore House. "It's practically on our way," she said.

  "I'm sorry, what?"

  "The convenience store. Can we stop?"

  He laughed. "You're a nut. We don't have enough ice cream at home for you?"

  "But this is out-for-a-walk-after-I-found-a-body ice cream. Please?" Polly leaned in against him and tilted her head to look into his eyes.

  "How can a man resist that?" They turned down the street and he moved so she was walking on the inside. "Do you think Mr. Greyson killed the girl?"

  She shook her head. "I can't come with any good reason. It makes no sense. Why do you do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "You always move to the outside when we're walking. If a car were to come crashing over the curb, we'd both be dead."

  Henry chuckled and shrugged, then brought her hand up to his chest and hugged it close. "It's just something Dad taught me. I watched him do it with both Mom and Lonnie. As I grew up, Mom always moved to the inside so I'd learn. It's not about cars careening into us, though."

  "Then what?"

  "From what Dad said, it goes way back to before cities had running water. People in upper stories would toss their water and garbage out into the street and if they didn't get it out far enough, the gentleman took the brunt of it."

  She laughed. "That doesn't seem fair."

  "It was chivalrous. Think about the ladies in their beautiful dresses. Men wore dull suits and a top coat on. They also wore hats. More protection. So they walked on the outside, offering pretty girls all the protection they needed."

  "But why do men still do it?"

  "Are you telling me your dad didn't move you to the inside when you walked together?"

  Polly nodded. "All the time. I never thought anything of it."

  "But it's odd for you when I do it."

  "No, it's sweet. I guess I finally just asked why."

  "We still do it to give our girls some protection. If we were walking along a street and a car went through a puddle and splashed us, I'd take the worst of it. I'd always sacrifice myself for you that way." He stopped and tugged on her hand to turn her toward him, then kissed her.

  "You're so good to me," she said. "All of that chivalry and you still let me be independent."

  "And I buy you ice cream." Henry opened the door to the store and let her enter first.

  Polly nodded a hello to the young man behind the counter, walked to the freezer and peered in. "I don't know what I want," she said. Then she slid the top panel open and took out a toffee and chocolate covered ice cream ba
r. "This. Something different."

  "Good for you," Henry said with a smile. "You're branching out." He took out another item and they went to the cash register.

  "That's new," the young man said to Henry.

  "He knows my buying habits," Henry said to Polly with a laugh. "We're trying new flavors tonight. It's always good to be adventurous."

  They paid for the ice cream, left the store, and stood in front of a trash can to unwrap their treats.

  "I almost don't want to go home," Polly said. "When I get there, I'll have to think about all of the things that are going on in my life right now."

  "We can keep walking," he replied.

  "Not long enough," she said. "I want to sleep under the stars and dream about worlds where there is no murder and where children stay sweet and kind and never grow up."

  They crossed the highway to Sycamore House and Henry led her to the garden. Street lamps glowed and bugs fluttered in their light. "Maybe just a few more minutes out here, then," he said.

  Polly swatted a mosquito away. "Nah. We can go in. But thanks for letting me dream a moment." She stopped suddenly and put her arms around him. "How did I get so lucky?" she asked.

  He held his ice cream treat away from her face and kissed her, chocolate and ice cream mingling on their lips. "I'm the one who married the greatest girl in three states." He backed up and swept his arm toward the building. "Look at what you've done here. And I get to be a part of all of it."

  "You have to be a part of all of it," she said with a chuckle. "Sometimes I feel badly for dragging you into my crazy life. But you're so good for me."

  "I get to be a part of it." He kissed her lips again. "Don't ever think that I didn't know what I was getting into when I asked you to marry me. I chose to be part of all of this because it is exciting and part of you. You're exciting. You're crazy and wonderful and generous and loving and a little weird and you will never let me be bored. I'm the lucky one."

  Aaron's SUV pulled up to the front door of the building.

  "Our little love-fest is over," Polly said.

  "It's just postponed," he replied and gave her bottom a squeeze. "They can't stay here all night and we don't have a kid in the house."

  She chuckled and felt her face flush red. "Don't you dare say anything like that in front of Aaron. You embarrass me!"

  He took her hand and they walked toward the front door. "You always surprise me with your innocence. Lydia says much worse things to Aaron when they're with us."

  "And that embarrasses me too," Polly said. "So be good."

  As they got close to the front door, another car drove up and she turned to see who it was.

  Jeff jumped out and said, "I'm right on time. I was afraid you'd be finished with everything and I'd have made the trip for nothing."

  "It's twenty minutes from your place to Sycamore House. Not much of a trip," Polly said.

  "Well..." He scowled at her. "Whatever. I knew I could put my hands on information faster than you and if Aaron had questions about other employees I should be available."

  "I appreciate it," Aaron said.

  "The date wasn't worth sticking around for?" Polly asked.

  Jeff shook his head back and rolled his eyes. "It was the worst. What a damned diva. I was so glad when you called and interrupted me. It gave me a good reason to say good night and run for my life." He took her arm as they walked to the front door. "The best part? I didn't even give him a chance to ask if we could reschedule. I just threw money on the table and left. It was dramatic and fabulous!"

  "You're a nut," Polly said as they walked through the doors that Henry and Aaron held open.

  "Polly, I'd like you to go up to Miss Specht's room with me and then I'd like to use your conference room if that's okay," Aaron said.

  "Of course," she replied. "You think that being alone with a young woman in her bedroom is a bad idea?"

  He let loose a laugh. "The worst. I've stayed out of trouble for all these years, I'm smart enough to continue that trend." Aaron gestured for her to lead the way and they went into the addition and up the elevator to the second floor.

  Polly knocked on Camille Specht's door. "Camille? It's me, Polly."

  The young woman opened the door. Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, she held an open book in her hands. The light was on over a wing chair and there was a glass of ice water on the table beside it.

  "Yes?" she asked and then she saw the sheriff. "Is there a problem?"

  "I'm sorry to interrupt your evening," Aaron said. "But I need to speak with you about one of your employees. Would you please come downstairs?"

  "Right now? What's happened?" She shook her head. "Just a moment. I need to put shoes on and..." She glanced down at what she was wearing. "I'm not dressed for this."

  "It's okay," Polly assured her. "You're just going down to the conference room. You're fine."

  "Shoes. I need shoes. Let me put this down." She tossed the book into the chair where she'd been sitting and then pulled out a suitcase and dug around, coming up with a pair of flip flops. Camille unconsciously brushed her hand across her hair, patting it down and into place. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't expecting to see anyone tonight. I'm a mess. We spent all day working and..."

  "It's really okay," Polly said. "You look fine."

  The young woman finally nodded and followed them back downstairs. When she saw Jeff in his office, she gave a big sigh of relief. He jumped out of his chair and came out into the main office to greet her, handing Aaron a file folder.

  "That's what we have on her," he said.

  "On who?" Camille asked.

  Aaron pushed the door open to the conference room and gestured for her to go in. "Julie Smith was killed this evening."

  Camille looked at Jeff. She hugged herself and took a deep breath. "Our Julie Smith? She just started this week. We all just started. I barely knew her."

  Jeff nodded. "Our Julie Smith."

  Before he could say anything more, Aaron said, "Please. In here. I have several questions to ask about her and the others."

  "The others?" Camille asked. "Do you think one of them did it?"

  "We don't have any idea yet," Aaron replied. "We're just beginning to ask questions."

  "And you're starting with me?" Her eyes flashed with fear. "Do you think I killed her? I barely knew the poor girl."

  "Please, let's go in and sit down. Would you like a glass of water?"

  "No," Camille replied. She rocked back and forth. "But could Jeff be in here with me? I don't know what to think."

  Aaron said, "Sure. Whatever makes you comfortable."

  Jeff and Camille went into the conference room and Aaron turned to Polly and Henry. "You two might as well go on upstairs. We'll be here for a while, but I think Jeff can get everything I need."

  "Okay," Polly said. "Let me know if you need anything else."

  "I'll be fine. Talk to you tomorrow, though, okay?"

  He went into the conference room, pushing the door shut behind him.

  "Phew," Henry said, puffing air out through pursed lips. "She was nervous."

  "Poor thing. Her first week in town, she has a new job, she's lived in two separate places and tonight the sheriff shows up to talk to her about a murder." Polly took his hand. "I'm just glad it isn't me."

  He chuckled. "I'm glad it's not you, too. You've had enough to deal with this last year. I don't think my heart could take another one right now."

  "Wimp." She tugged his hand. "Wanna come upstairs and play with your wife?"

  "Race you." He let go and ran for the stairway. Polly caught up to him and they ran up the steps side by side.

  CHAPTER NINE

  "Really. If you will wait one moment, I'll check to see if Ms. Giller is available."

  Polly looked up to see Stephanie standing in her doorway.

  "What's up?" Polly asked.

  "There's a Leslie Sutworth here. She wonders if you have time."

  Polly nodded. If someone was this despera
te to see her, she'd make time.

  The haggard woman who came into Polly's office looked as if she hadn't slept in days with hair pulled back into a ponytail, no makeup and bloodshot eyes. Her fingers rubbed back and forth - the skin on the side of her index fingers red and raw.

  "Have a seat, Mrs. Sutworth," Polly said. She gestured to the chair in front of her desk and asked, "Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Water?"

  "No thank you," the woman said, taking a seat.

  Polly sat across from her. "I'm sorry about what happened with your son, Mrs. Sutworth. Is there anything I can do?"

  "Call me Leslie, please," the woman said. She gave a hint of a smile and then looked down at her hands again.

  Polly waited.

  "I'm not sure what to ask," Mrs. Sutworth started. "This is all so difficult. Denis was in a good place. When he's on his meds, he's tolerable, but then things get out of balance and he gets so..." she stopped. "I don't even know what's wrong with him. He's always been a little different, but it doesn't take anything for him to snap these days. You know?"

  Polly nodded. She had no idea what to say.

  "They're going to send him home and I'm at a loss." Tears formed in her eyes and she reached up to brush them away.

  "How can I help you?" Polly asked.

  "On top of everything else, he broke the ankle and femur on his right leg. They're talking about putting him in a rehab facility, but Ms. Giller, if they do that, it will just send him into a spiral."

  "That makes sense. Many facilities around here aren't set up for someone his age. But if he needs physical rehabilitation, they'll be able to help him."

  "I know. But I don't want him in a place like that and I can't take care of him at home." Now that the woman had started, she pressed forward. "A friend recommended that I talk to Evelyn Morrow and when I did, she mentioned Sycamore House. She said she had been on-site here with someone else and if you had room, it would be a good place. She talked about the horses and other animals and you have kids here and people who are nice. I'd come over when I wasn't working to spend time with him, but..." She looked back at Polly, desperation on her face.

  It had never occurred to Polly that her addition could be turned into a convalescent home, but it made an odd kind of sense. "You're hiring Evelyn Morrow to care for him?"