by Pyper James
One of the EMT’s stepped forward.
“When we got here, his vitals were flat. There was no need to try and resuscitate as he was already deceased.
“And did you notice anything to suggest anything other than natural causes,” Brown asked; more like confirmation of what he already suspected.
“Not a thing,” the EMT replied. “Nothing obvious anyway.”
Brown leaned in real close to Mr. Gingham and the group standing on the sidelines found themselves leaning in as well. Mitchell was quiet as he looked over Mr. Gingham.
“Of course, I can’t say anything definitive under these conditions. I’m gonna have to take the victim back to my shop and see what really happened. I wish I had a gut instinct on this one, but, I don’t.”
With that, Coroner Mitchell stood up and waved a hand to the EMT’s. They knew what the wave meant and returned to the ambulance and secured the gurney. Because of the unevenness of the ground within the vineyard, the EMTs opted to use a handheld lift to remove Mr. Braxton, and then place him on the gurney. Gathright and Harper helped as much as they could. Vivica took the flashlights from the men and kept the area lit for the extraction. She followed behind as Mr. Braxton was transferred from the handheld lift to the gurney that sat at the edge of the vineyard. Vivica wasn’t completely surprised to see that Auntie Mildred and many of the guests were still outside. The guests of Mulberry Grove, saw Braxton Gingham being rolled out on a stretcher with his face covered.
There were no questions from the group at that point. Just sad faces as Mr. Gingham was lifted into the back of the ambulance. As she watched the swirling red lights of the ambulance fade with distance from Mulberry Grove, Vivica wondered, what really happened to Mr. Braxton Gingham.
Chapter Five
Slowly, the group that gathered made their way inside. The group was eerily quiet; dealing with their own thoughts about the situation. Unsettling was not the word for it. One minute everyone was gathered around the dining table, laughing and enjoying a homecooked meal. And within minutes, a dead body was being carted off from Mulberry Grove. Aunt Mildred held back, waiting for a moment to speak to her niece.
“I can’t believe this,” Mildred whispered behind a cupped hand, as there were still people walking around. “What in the world happened to Braxton?”
“We really don’t know, auntie,” Vivica replied.
“Well, what am I supposed to tell the guests? They’ve all got questions, I’ve got questions.”
“Try to keep everybody as calm as possible. We really don’t know anything, whether it was natural causes or something else,” Vivica replied.
Aunt Mildred’s eyes grew wide hearing the last of Vivica’s comment.
“Something else, like somebody did this to him?”
“It’s always a possibility, unfortunately,” Vivica answered. “But until we know for sure, say as little as possible, okay?”
Mildred didn’t like it, but she really didn’t have much of a choice. She had to go along with it until they had answers.
“Well, I hope you all figure this out fast. This isn’t good, poor Braxton.”
“Does he have a family,” Vivica asked as the two moved towards the front porch.
“Lord, I will have to check and see,” Mildred answered. “This just breaks my heart. He is, I mean was, such a nice man.”
“I know,” Vivica agreed. “But if he does have a family, they will want to know… he’s gone.”
Mildred grabbed Vivica’s hand. The reality of Mr. Gingham’s sudden demise striking a sad chord with the innkeeper. He was like family and if his passing was this difficult for Mildred, she could only imagine how it would be for those related to him. Vivica held onto her aunt’s hand and helped Mildred up the stairs. She was asking a lot of her auntie, and Vivica would step in and help as much as she could. But for now, she needed to see what Harper and Gathright’s next move was. Vivica let her aunt know what she intended to do as Harper and Gathright made their way onto the porch.
“Ma’am,” Sheriff Harper said, tipping his hat in Mildred’s direction. Gathright followed suit. “Sorry about all of this. Did Vivica mention we would need to go inside, up to Mr. Gingham’s room?”
“Yes, she did, Mildred replied, still holding tightly to her niece’s hand.
“We’ll try not to disturb anything, but we will need to interview everyone in the inn, you do understand?” Harper was almost apologetic. Vivica knew it was out of respect to her aunt.
“Not your fault, sheriff, you’re just doing your job.”
“I appreciate that Ms. Mildred. If you don’t mind, I’d like to make the announcement to let the folks know so that’s not left to you to do.”
“I appreciate that,” Mildred answered. “It would be better coming from you.”
With that, they all made their way inside. The inn was buzzing with small groups of guests huddled together undoubtedly discussing the events of the evening. Only Boris looked unfazed by the commotion. He was once again stretched out on the window seat. Maximus was near him, but instead of relaxing, Max sat, watching everything that moved around him.
“If I can get everyone’s attention for just a moment,” Harper said as he took off his hat.
It took a minute for people to settle down and those on the periphery of the entryway to make their way over. Sheriff Harper waited until there was some settling before he continued.
“I know this has been hard on everyone, but I have to ask that you all stay put. My deputy and I, along with Vivica Meadows, who you all know, will need to speak with each of you tonight.”
Although there were those who had questions, they refrained from hurling them at the sheriff. Instead, there were a few head nods as they understood the necessity of what Sheriff Harper had to say. With that, Mildred remained in the entryway speaking with her guests as Harper, Gathright, and Vivica took the stairs to the second floor.
“His room is right down there,” Vivica said as they mounted the top stair. She made her way in front of the pair and they followed her to Mr. Gingham’s room. The door was still closed but it wasn’t locked. Turning the knob, the trio made their way inside, staying just inside the opening of the room. Vivica reached for the light switch and turned on the light. It was important to get a full lay of the land before attempting to dissect the room in smaller parts.
“You got some gloves,” Harper asked Gathright. Reaching into his pocket, Gathright produced two pairs of latex gloves. He kept one and handed a pair to Harper. Vivica didn’t completely feel left out, but still. Pulling out her cell phone, Vivica compensated for the lack of physical protection. She started taking pictures of Mr. Gingham’s room as it stood.
“Good idea,” Harper commented as his eyes continued to scan the space. “You’re getting pretty good at this detective thing, aren’t you?”
She smiled at the compliment and waited to see if Gathright had something to say about it. They had kind of made amends during the last case they worked together, but Vivica still wasn’t sure whether Gathright really accepted her continued involvement. He didn’t make any comment, just continued to peruse the room.
“Doesn’t look like too much was disturbed,” Gathright said. “But we don’t have anything to compare that to.”
Vivica finished taking the wide-angled pictures and turned around to the room’s door.
“What are you looking for,” Harper asked.
“I was checking to see if the do not disturb sign was on the handle,” Vivica answered. “That would give us some insight as to whether housekeeping had been in recently especially since Mr. Gingham would hold up in his room sometimes for days.”
Harper nodded. There was a slight smile that eased across his lips. Vivica was rather insightful and seemed to have a knack for thinking about angles on a case he may not have considered. The sign was on the door. Vivica paused.
“When I was here before, that sign wasn’t there,” Vivica reported. Her brow furrowed as she did a d
ouble-take, seeing that indeed the do not disturb sign was now hanging from the doorknob.
“That means, someone put it there after I left,” Vivica mused aloud. “Which means the chances of Mr. Gingham dying of natural causes just went out the window or putting the sign up doesn’t make sense.”
“Who knew you were coming to check on Mr. Gingham,” Gathright asked, intrigued by what Vivica said.
“Everybody sitting at the dining room table could have heard my aunt ask me to see about him.”
“That means everyone at that table is a prime suspect,” Harper followed.
“Exactly,” Vivica thought. As the group turned their attention back to Mr. Gathright’s room, Vivica considered who was sitting at the table; people she’d come in contact with, people she and her aunt broke bread with and lived under the same roof with. To think one of them did something to Mr. Gingham? The thought was troubling. Vivica’s eyes widened as she thought about Aunt Mildred downstairs with a killer.
“I gotta go,” Vivica insisted. She felt anxiety rise inside her as feelings of dread and rushes of adrenaline moved through her.
“Where are you going,” Harper asked, seeing how agitated Vivica was.
“I gotta see about my aunt!”
Vivica started toward the hallway from a dead stop to practically full-throttle. She had to get to Mildred.
“Woo,” Harper said, wrapping his arms around Vivica’s waist, halting all forward movement. Vivica’s eyes bugged as her heart raced. She fought against what held her captive.
“Let me go, Harp,” Vivica threatened.
He didn’t relinquish, only waited until she stopped fighting against him. Johnathan pulled her in close to keep Vivica from flailing. It was only then could Vivica listen to reason.
“If you go downstairs half-cocked, then whoever did this to Gingham will know we are on to them,” Johnathan said with his mouth pressed close to Vivica’s ear. That didn’t stop Vivica from bucking one more time, no matter how soothing Johnathan’s baritone voice was reverberating against her flesh. She had to dismiss that idea as her thoughts of her aunt prevailed.
“We have to keep a cool head, Vivica, or we’ll blow the case even before we get started.”
Johnathan was right and Vivica knew it. What he said made sense but that didn’t make Vivica feel any less anxious. But in order to truly save her aunt, she had to go along with what he said, even if she didn’t like it. Johnathan felt Vivica relax in his arms.
“Are we on the same page,” he asked cautiously. Vivica could be slick when she wanted to, and no one knew that better than Johnathan.
“Yes,” she mumbled, sighing heavily.
“Glad you guys worked it out,” Bo said with so much sarcasm it helped to ease the tension between the two.
It was only then that Johnathan was willing to let Vivica go, but he kept his eyes on her, just in case she decided to bolt. She wouldn’t. Vivica accepted that what was most important was figuring out who had a motive to hurt, well, kill Braxton Gingham. Mildred was a tough old bird. If push came to shove, Aunt Mildred could hold her own; at least, hold her own long enough for Vivica to rescue her, Vivica hoped. Turning around to face him, Vivica playfully rolled her eyes at Bo. He shrugged his shoulders as a little bit of a smile broke through. They were making progress. That was a good thing.
“Okay Vivica, you knew Mr. Gingham better than we did,” Harper started, refocusing his attention on the situation at hand. “Does anything look out of place? Is there anything that could be a clue as to what happened?”
Vivica moved from the hallway into the room. It was true she knew Braxton better than the police, but Braxton was such a conundrum. He was like both sides of the coin; cool when he wanted to be alone and warm when he was willing to tolerate other people. As Vivica padded further into the room, she looked to see if there was anything that seemed out of place.
“If nothing else, Braxton was neat,” Vivica pondered as she observed her surroundings. Whether it was the maid or Braxton himself, the bed was still made, and the covers were crisp like he hadn’t sat on them. There was a pair of house slippers sitting on one side of the bed, perfectly aligned so Braxton could slide his feet right into them without missing a beat. A pair of reading glasses sat atop a small stack of books. Vivica walked over and examined the titles. They were all mysteries, police procedurals like some of the books she liked to read. The television in the corner was on a news channel but there was no sound. As Vivica continued to look around, Bo and Sheriff Harper did as well.
There didn’t appear to be anything out of the way that either of them could sink their teeth into. Vivica turned her attention to the bathroom while Gathright combed through Mr. Gingham’s dresser drawers and Harper checked the closet. Vivica turned on the light and her eyes immediately scanned the bathroom. Again, there didn’t appear to be anything out of the way. There was a single toothbrush in the holder, some denture cream which Vivica found herself smiling behind, and a folded wash rag that to the touch was still dry. Outside of the few personal belongings that were there, there was only one other thing that wasn’t standard issue in the bathroom. Vivica’s eyes were drawn to a small clear vase. She walked over to the counter and leaned over to take a whiff of the brightly colored flowers.
Hyacinth… purple hyacinth to be specific.
The aroma from the flagrant flowers filled Vivica’s nostrils and she immediately started to speculate as to how they came to rest in Braxton Gingham’s restroom. “And why aren’t they in the main room where he can see them?” Vivica said aloud.
“See what,” Harper asked, peeking into the bathroom. He saw Vivica still leaning over a vase of flowers.
“Why these are in here and now where he could see them all the time,” Vivica continued.
“Those are not put in the room by the B&B?” Harper questioned.
“No, but it is a good idea,” Vivica replied.
Harper smiled, but his mind whirled just as Vivica’s did with the placement of the flowers.
“And he didn’t get them from you, I assume,” Harper continued, entering the bathroom and examining the vase closer.
“No, he didn’t,” Vivica answered.
Vivica watched as Sheriff Harper inspected the flowers. There was no card, no personalization to give a hint as to who may have sent them, which could mean Mr. Gingham either ordered or picked the flowers himself. Vivica knew that hyacinth was a flower that did not grow randomly in the area, for the most part. But that didn’t mean it didn’t grow in a personal garden or couldn’t have been gotten from a shop, other than hers, that sold flowers.
“We really need to get to the interviews,” Gathright said, leaning his head into the bathroom.
“You’re right,” Harper agreed.
“It’s going to be a long night,” Vivica said as the two exited the small space.
“Even longer than that,” Gathright added.
Chapter Six
Although the trio could have spent more time in Braxton’s room, they decided to leave to get the interviews started. Before they descended the stairs, Harper and Gathright crisscrossed caution tape on Mr. Gingham’s door. Once they were downstairs, those that withheld their questions before seemed to be bursting at the seams to ask them now.
“Do you know what happened to Mr. Gingham?” The question from one drew the attention of those who were milling around
Sheriff Harper took it upon himself to deflect that particular question but to address the group as a whole.
“We don’t know too much more than we did before,” Harper replied. “That’s why it is so important that we speak with each of you individually. If you just give us a few minutes, we will organize the interviews, so we can get this done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Thanks.”
That last addition gave no opportunity for dissent as Gathright, Harper and Meadows walked out onto the front porch to put their heads together.
“It looks to be between 15 and 20 adults tha
t need to be questioned. If we divide it up, that’s about six, seven interviews a piece,” Harper assessed.
“What about the children? I saw a couple of kids running around,” Gathright added.
“Well, Vivica, if you don’t mind starting with them?” Harker asked.
“Nope,” Vivica replied. “I can take the kids.”
“I’ll interview Ms. Mildred first,” Harper affirmed. “Wouldn’t want speculation about impropriety having you do it, Vivica, since you’re related to her.”
“Should I be deputized or something?”
Both Gathright and Harper turned and stared at Vivica.
“I’m serious,” she answered, seeing the quizzical looks on their faces.
Bo trailed his eyes over to Harper to see if the sheriff was considering the question. When Bo couldn’t read the sheriff’s expression, he asked one of his own.
“Are you seriously thinking about it?”
The quandary Harper found himself in could not be easily resolved with a simple answer. Either way, he would alienate one of them. Because of professional reasons, he didn’t want to isolate his deputy. And for personal reasons, he certainly didn’t want to offend Vivica. It was an uncomfortable position to be in and Harper had a hard shown not showing it.
“That’s not a decision I can make hastily,” he started, trying to figure out his way as he spoke. They both stared at him. Their gazes were unyielding. “For right now, let’s just go along with the interviews as we set them up. If there are any legal challenges afterward, I’ll have to deal with them.”
Vivica knew this was not the time to press her agenda. Still, it would have been nice to have Johnathan agree to give her legal credentials. But she wasn’t dealing with Johnathan, her boyfriend from the past. She was dealing with Sheriff Harper and he had an obligation that superseded her personal desires.
“I’m good with that,” Vivica offered, letting everybody off the hook. Bo breathed a visible sigh of relief and Harper shifted his hat on his head, indicative of the sigh he breathed as well.
