A Bias for Murder

by Sally Goldenbaum

  “Maybe he was finally trying to move beyond the Harrington House—to begin a life without Ollie,” Kate said.

  “Maybe.” Gus scratched his square chin. “Maybe so. He was, well, a little agitated. But I hadn’t seen him for so long that I figured maybe that was his normal look as he’d aged.”

  Po frowned. Joe had been agitated the last time she saw him, too. But for good reason. Adele was wanting to evict him and surely he felt that pressure. Aloud she said, “Joe was a good sort. His murder is troubling and senseless. It’s awful for the whole town, but above all, for Adele Harrington. Having someone murdered in her backyard isn’t going to help promote her bed and breakfast any.”

  “Some folks think it might have been an accident. Adele has quite a temper. Maybe she just meant to shake him up,” Gus offered.

  “I’m afraid there’ll be a lot of ‘maybes’ floating around,” P.J. said. “And they will only hurt Adele.”

  “Does all this speculation hurt the case, P.J.?” Kate asked.

  P.J. shrugged. “I’m not on the case, as you know. But from what I can tell, probably not. The investigation will go forward on its own course. But what speculation does is hurt innocent people.”

  “Like Adele. I don’t know what it is about that woman—she’s insulted so many people—but there’s more to her than that,” Kate said. “When Phoebe and I helped her into the house yesterday after those awful moments at the lily pond, we could see genuine agony in her eyes. Real, sincere hurt. She mumbled something we couldn’t quite understand, something about her mother. And Ollie. And how horrible this would have been for them both.”

  “I’ve seen traces of that, too. There’s something real and decent there,” Po said.

  “Well, it wouldn’t hurt the woman to let a few others see that side of her,” Gus said. “Rita and I invited her to a book signing here at the store—one of those cocktail things we do. We thought maybe she’d like getting to know some folks—”

  “And maybe fill her B&B library from books she’d buy here?” Leah teased.

  “Sure, a little business. A little pleasure. But you know my Rita, she decided this is what a newcomer in town needs and she would have introduced her to everyone within fifty miles.”

  “But she turned you down,” Kate said.

  “Flatter than Kansas,” Gus said. “And was rude in the process.”

  “It’s a protection, I think,” Po said. “But in time she’ll warm up.”

  “Well, let’s hope she’s not finding herself warming up in the cooler.”

  Po shook her head. “You’re hopeless, Gus, and on that note, I need to get moving. We’re going to stop by Adele’s to see if there’s anything we can do.”

  But when Po and Leah drove down Kingfish Drive a few minutes later, they could see that the iron gates leading to the drive were closed, and in the distance, crowding the curve of the drive, three police cars stood guard over a murder scene.

  * * * *

  That Sunday night, P.J. and Kate, as they’d been doing lately, showed up first for dinner, followed closely by the others. Po had tried to reach Halley, thinking she might need company, but when no one answered, she left a voice message.

  P.J. offered to man the grill while Kate prepared drinks, and Po urged the others out to the patio near the grill to enjoy the wonderful starry evening, maybe the last outdoor gathering before winter set in.

  “I got a strange call today,” Maggie said, standing near the grill as she watched P.J. line up shrimp and vegetable kabobs on the grate. She wore faded jeans and a soft fleece jacket. “Adele Harrington called me at home. She asked me to open the clinic so she could bring Emerson in to board him.” Maggie eyed the platter of Thai spring rolls that Eleanor was passing around. “Isn’t that kind of weird? Emerson seems to be her one true friend—you’d think she would want to keep him close, especially at times like this.”

  Eleanor pushed up the sleeves of her silky red blouse and handed Maggie a small plate with a spoonful of peanut sauce for the spring rolls. “Yes, that’s odd,” she said. “Adele loves that dog more than life itself. I ran into her down at the river park the other day while my yoga class was doing its thing on the lawn. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a few days, but every time Emerson rubbed against her, her face relaxed and she seemed almost happy.”

  “Seems like Adele placed more than one call this morning.” Leah looked over at Max. He was standing beneath a tree, throwing a Frisbee for Hoover, his face thoughtful. He turned as Leah called his name.

  “Po and I saw Adele leaving your office bright and early today.”

  Max took the chilled martini Kate handed him. “This is a difficult time for her,” he said. “But the meeting wasn’t anything unusual or private. We were checking some insurance policies to make sure the property was covered.”

  “That sounds ominous,” Maggie said. “Isn’t that something you do before you die—or go off to jail?”

  Po listened to the conversation as she walked back and forth between the house and the group standing around the grill. The night was so pleasant she’d decided they would settle into the comfortable lawn chairs and eat right there beneath the stars. An unconscious tribute to Ollie Harrington, perhaps. And possibly a reason why she should have invited Adele. But she knew before the thought settled that Adele wouldn’t have come. Were she in Adele’s situation right now, socializing would be the last thing on her mind, no matter if she’d be among friendly faces.

  “Did Adele talk about Joe’s funeral at all?” P.J. asked. “They won’t release the body for a couple days, but someone should be making plans to give the guy a decent burial or memorial.”

  “No. I asked, but she ignored me on that one,” Max said. “I don’t think she feels responsible for burying Joe, and I suppose, officially, she isn’t.”

  “Jed Fellers and Halley offered to help,” Po said. She put a basket of napkins and flatware on an old picnic table beneath the tree.

  “Reverend Gottrey offered to put something together, too,” Leah said. “It’s sad when there’s no family—or even close friends—to take care of these things.”

  P.J. carried a platter of skewers stacked with plump, spicy grilled shrimp and scallops to the table. Po followed with orzo sprinkled with feta cheese, a basket of sour dough rolls, and a heaping bowl of spinach salad.

  “Please, help yourself,” she said, slipping on a thick cardigan sweater. “It’s good to be with friends. While that’s always true, sometimes it matters even more.”

  Beside her, Max nodded. He looked up at the stars flung wide across the black sky. “This sky makes me think of Ollie. He was so brilliant when it came to the heavens.”

  Po smiled. Ollie was touching them all tonight.

  P.J. and Kate were sitting together on an old rope hammock that Bruce had given Po for Mother’s Day decades ago. The ropes, weathered to a pale gray, groaned as P.J. leaned back, ignoring the roll that slid off his plate onto Kate’s lap. He looked up. “It’s a great sky. I imagine both of them up there, Joe too, wondering about all this chaos below.”

  “I never met either of them, and that’s so odd in a small town like this,” Maggie said.

  “I think you had to fit into a certain compartment in Ollie’s life,” Leah said. “Otherwise your paths wouldn’t cross. Ollie’s life seemed to be the college, his classes and talks with Jed, the library. And Joe’s was with Ollie and his gardens.”

  “Don’t forget Halley Peterson,” Po said. “It’s somehow comforting to me to know that Ollie had a friend like her. And it’s clear she genuinely cared for him. And for Joe, too. The past couple weeks have been miserable for her.”

  “P.J. and I ran into her today after we left Gus’s store.” Kate pulled herself out of the hammock and walked her empty plate over to the table. She grabbed a sweater from the back of a chair and returned to the hammo
ck. “She and Jed were walking toward campus, deep in conversation. I don’t think they even saw us. Halley looked upset, and so sad. Jed was clearly being a comforting shoulder to lean on.”

  “They have Ollie in common. I’m glad Halley has someone to talk with. As busy as Jed is, he’s making time for her, and that’s a good thing,” Leah said.

  “Coffee anyone?” Po asked, rising from her chair.

  “And I brought ice cream,” Eleanor added. “Let me help, Po.”

  As the two women headed inside, the sound of a siren in the distance cut through the crisp night air. Eleanor paused at the porch door. “Such a mournful sound,” she said. “And it always means distressing news for someone.”

  Po looked out into the darkness. Tiny lights illuminated the giant trees in her backyard—a perfect, peaceful setting. But she felt it, too, the unsettling feeling of unknown lives being changed in an instant by an auto crash, a heart attack, a random, freak accident. Po held open the screen door and followed Eleanor into the house. “Let’s hope it’s no one we know, El.”

  Eleanor busied herself in the kitchen, scooping large portions of ice cream in bowls while Po filled a tray with cups, cream and sugar, and a full thermos. “Fudge sauce?” Po asked.

  But before she could open the refrigerator, a different sound, much closer, joined the sirens.

  “Now that’s a sound you don’t often hear,” Eleanor said, wiping her hands on a towel and glancing toward Po’s front hall. “It’s your doorbell. Who in heaven’s name uses your doorbell, Po?”

  “Not many people,” Po admitted. “Not when they know it’s just as easy to push it open and walk in.” Po walked quickly toward the front of her house. The sound of the sirens quickened her step as she reached the front door and pulled it open.

  Po looked outside, but before she could speak, Halley Peterson flung herself into Po’s arms.

  Chapter 17

  “Oh, Halley, dear,” Po murmured, drawing the disheveled woman into the front hall. Her hair was loose and messy, falling over her shoulders. A sweater was wrapped carelessly around her shoulders and her Canterbury T-shirt was half-tucked into the waist of her jeans. For a brief moment, Po thought she might have been in an accident. “What is it, Halley? Are you all right?”

  Halley drew apart, wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She nodded, her throat tight.

  “Come in,” Po said, and drew Halley through the entryway and into the warm glow of the family room lights. Eleanor brought a glass of water over while Po urged Halley to sit on the couch. In the distance, the sirens increased in volume, filling the night air with a strident symphony.

  Kate rushed in from outside, her dark hair flying. “Po,” she called out, “there’s a fire somewhere. We can smell the smoke.” She stopped suddenly, spotting Halley.

  “It’s Joe—” Halley said, looking up at Kate.

  “Joe?” Po asked gently. The wild look in Halley’s eyes was disturbing. And now her words weren’t making sense.

  Halley shook her head, as if trying to straighten her thoughts, to put them in order. “Joe’s apartment,” Halley said. Her voice was almost a whisper. “The Harrington’s garage is on fire.”

  By then the rest of the Sunday supper crowd had come inside and were busying themselves in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher, talking softly, and hoping Halley could provide more information as they listened to the voices across the room.

  “Were you there?” Po said, sitting beside the distraught woman.

  Halley nodded. “Jed and I went over to see if Adele would let me into Joe’s place. To…to get some things he and I had looked at together. The police were gone by then—it was late this afternoon—and I knew Adele wouldn’t wait long to throw everything out of Joe’s apartment. I wanted to salvage some things Ollie had given Joe, some things that meant a lot to him. She almost threw me off the property, threatened to call the police. Said she’d had enough bad things happen to her. And then…then she seemed to weaken. And she told me she couldn’t deal with anything right then. She was exhausted and would be going to bed early. But she said I could come back tomorrow.”

  Po handed Halley a tissue.

  “But I wasn’t sure she meant it. I didn’t trust her. So I went back late tonight by myself, determined to not let all remnants of those two good men end in a dumpster. I figured she’d be asleep.” A sad smile eased the tense lines outlining her face. “I knew where Joe kept a key to his place, and I decided I’d just go in and take some things. I know it’s wrong, but I didn’t care. I walked along the bushes hidden from the house, and was halfway there when I spotted the flames.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I was so frightened that I turned and ran in the opposite direction, back toward the street. I didn’t want Adele to see me. And then I…” Halley paused and seemed to be deciding what to say next. When she spoke again, her words were planned, thoughtful, careful. “Then I wandered around the neighborhood for a while, away from the Harrington house but close enough to hear the sirens, not knowing where to go. I had heard your message earlier—”

  A knock on the back door broke into the quiet room.

  Max walked over to it and pushed it open for Jed Fellers, his face washed in worry. “Halley? Is she here?”

  Max nodded and motioned for Jed to come in. “She’s in need of friends, I think,” he said softly and motioned toward the living area.

  Jed smiled his thanks and walked over to the couch. He looked at Halley’s tear-stained face. “Are you okay? I was so worried when I got your message. I could hear those sirens all the way over on campus—but I couldn’t find you.”

  Halley wiped the tears from her cheek and looked up at Jed. “Jed, it was so awful. I know you told me not to go over there, that Adele would turn me away. But I had to—”

  Po got up to make room for Jed on the couch. She walked over to Max while Halley repeated the story to a distraught Jed.

  “Po,” Max whispered, “P.J. and I are going to run over and check on Adele. We’ll be back shortly.”

  Po nodded.

  “Adele was home,” Halley was saying now. “Standing in the driveway, watching it burn. I saw her—”

  And she probably saw you, Po thought, trying to put the distressing consequences out of her mind. She sat down across from Halley and listened while she finished telling Jed how she’d run away, frightened and unsure of what to do.

  Eleanor had put on a pot of tea and placed a cup down in front of Halley, along with a jigger of brandy. “This will warm you, dear,” she said. “Jed, I think I’ll bring you a stiff drink.”

  Halley took a sip of the tea. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I just, well, I knew Jed was busy tonight and I didn’t know where else to go. And it was all so awful, seeing those flames.”

  “Po’s door is always open, Halley,” Leah said. “You made a good choice. And you’re not interrupting anything. This is exactly where you should be.”

  Jed took the drink that Eleanor handed him and smiled his thanks. “Bruce’s suppers pulled me through some lonely times in the past. This would have been a safer place for Halley to be tonight, that’s for sure.” He looped an arm around the couch behind her. “Halley was just trying to help with Joe’s things. But I don’t think Adele can let other people in yet, not even to help.”

  “She’s starting to let her defenses down a little, but you’re right, Jed,” Po said. “It’s going to take her awhile.” Po could see the color coming back into Halley’s cheeks as they talked.

  “I know I shouldn’t have gone over there,” Halley said, her voice stronger now. “Jed warned me. But I only wish I’d gone sooner,”

  “You and Ollie were very close,” Kate said.

  Halley nodded. “I loved him. Not in a romantic, get-married kind of way. But we had a kind of spiritual connection,” she
said. “We read to each other and wrote poems together. We shared our thoughts. I’ve never been able to do that with anyone before. Ollie was different. And he knew I appreciated that he was different and didn’t condemn him for it. He did the same for me.”

  The sound of the back door slamming announced that Max was back. He poured himself a cup of coffee and joined them near the fireplace. “It’s under control,” he said. “P.J. stayed on to talk with the police.”

  “Police?” Po said.

  Max hesitated, then said, “The fire wasn’t an accident.”

  The room was silent.

  “They’re sure?” Po asked.

  Halley’s eyes filled her oval face. One hand covered her mouth.

  Jed’s arm dropped to her shoulder and he pulled her into his side.

  “Yes, they’re sure,” Max said. “It was definitely arson. But only Joe’s apartment was affected. The garage below wasn’t badly damaged. Whoever did it wasn’t very adept at lighting fires if the goal was to burn the whole estate down. The breezeway leading to the house was only mildly burned.”

  “How is Adele?” Eleanor asked.

  Max was quiet for a moment. He wrapped his fingers around the warm mug of coffee. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully. “Adele was upset, just as you’d expect her to be. A murder in her backyard and a fire within one single weekend is enough to shake the most stalwart of folks.”

  Po listened. She couldn’t imagine what Adele must be feeling right now. She wondered if this might be the final straw. Would Adele call it quits, sell the property, and move away to another life that didn’t include murder and fires and someone threatening her dog? She suspected it’s what most of them would do.