Murder at the Fortune Teller's Table

by Janet Finsilver

  I untwisted the three strands and shoved the door.

  Mistake.

  The door still held, and the movement made the vehicle slip forward a little bit farther into the stream and almost go over on its side. I grabbed at the wire. The cut ends bit into my hands. My heart pounded with fear. If it fell over, I’d be trapped in a wire cage in the water. I took in a deep breath.

  The donkey slid forward a couple more inches. The water came up to my thighs, and the current made the animal dance from side to side. I willed myself to be slow and calm. I went back to examining the door and found two more wired areas. After untwisting them, I pushed gently and felt some give. I carefully moved the door back and forth. It opened a couple of inches and then stuck in the mud because of the embankment. But it was almost enough to get through.

  The creature settled a little more. I pushed again, and it began to go over on its side. As it did, the door moved upward and pulled out of the mud. I grabbed the sides and threw my body forward, landing on the door top. The wire bit into my waist. My chest was out of the water.

  I brought a knee up and pushed against the frame. My body cleared, and I held on to the couple of inches of the structure that remained above the water. I swung my legs into the creek and held on to the submerged vehicle for support, trying to decide what was the best way to get to the bank. The donkey had shifted toward the center of the creek when it fell, and the water was almost at my waist.

  I let go of the wire and slogged through the water toward shore. The gentle eddies hid a powerful current. The mud pulled at my feet as I neared land. I willed myself to yank each foot out as the mud tried to hold on. I reached the bank and collapsed on the ground, sucking the air deep into my lungs.

  My heart raced like a spooked horse.

  Kelly, you made it. You’re okay.

  I talked to myself as I would a frightened animal. My heart slowed.

  I thought of what the person had said. “Mind your own business, or you’ll have no business to mind.”

  That was clearly a threat. He—or she—had given me a chance to change my actions. Had the person decided to take it a step further? Had someone just tried to kill me?

  Chapter 19

  The sky was still blue. Flowers still lined the edge of the creek, and the birds were still singing.

  And I had come close to drowning.

  I sat up. I needed to call the police. Should it be a 911 call? The attacker could come back to see if they’d succeeded. The mythical garden creatures formed a stationary parade along the road above me. A group of children with several grown-ups began to gather around Winnie the Pooh.

  “Are you all right?” a voice called out.

  I looked up to my left and saw a man and a woman with two German shepherds. I had company.

  I was safe.

  For now.

  “Yes. Thanks . . . I just slipped.” I stood up to show them I was okay but almost didn’t succeed in accomplishing that. I was shakier than I thought, and one ankle complained.

  The man handed the leash he held to his companion. “Let me help you up. The bank is slippery.”

  He made his way down and supported me under my arm. I was grateful for the assistance. A small portion of Eeyore’s frame showed above the creek. The man frowned and looked puzzled but didn’t say anything.

  I thanked the couple and hobbled over to a bench. I took out my phone and turned it on. It didn’t look like the water had damaged it. A 911 call wouldn’t accomplish anything. If the person was still in the area, he or she was now just another visitor. I phoned Deputy Sheriff Stanton instead.

  “Ms. Jackson. How can I help you?”

  No reason not to get right to it. “Deputy Stanton, someone threatened me, possibly tried to kill me.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “A little banged up, but overall okay.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At Redwood Cove Botanical Gardens.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “No. Not any longer. There are quite a few people around.”

  “Stay with them. I’m on my way.”

  “Hold on,” I said.

  One of the adults with the children said it was time to go. They were heading back.

  “There’s a group going back to the entrance. I’ll tag along with them.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you out front.”

  I followed along a short distance behind. The group’s slow pace suited me just fine.

  I went into the restroom when we got back to the patio area and thoroughly washed my hands with soap and water. There were some scratches, but none appeared to be deep. I splashed water on the mud splotches on my pants, then wiped off my shoes with wet paper towels.

  My reflection in the mirror showed that my hair had dried and the natural curl had made it wavy. I wet a paper towel and wiped the few spots of dirt off my face, but there wasn’t anything I could do about the dank smell of the stream. When I exited the building, Sue Ellen and Ken were having coffee at one of the wooden tables. Edie and John had joined them. I didn’t see Daisy. She was probably still on her phone.

  I made my way to the front entrance. As I exited, a black Mercedes drove in. I recognized the car. It belonged to Resorts International. The driver was luckier than I was and found an open spot right away. Scott got out, saw me, and waved. He headed in my direction.

  I looked at my soggy pants and shoes, then at my scratched hands. I shoved them in my wet pockets, being careful not to flinch as the cloth rubbed against the cuts.

  “Kelly, hi!”

  How could he look elegant in faded blue jeans and a plain white shirt?

  “Good to see—” He stopped talking as he took in my appearance. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” Any lightness to his tone vanished.

  My shoulders sagged. “I . . . I . . .”

  The flashing lights of Stanton’s patrol car heralded the arrival of the officer as he rounded the driveway and stopped next to us.

  “I’ll tell you later if we’re still on for this afternoon,” I replied.

  The set of Scott’s mouth was grim. “Yes, we’re still on.”

  Stanton got out and approached me. “Ms. Jackson, let’s talk in the car.”

  With a nod at Stanton, and a penetrating look at me, Scott left. Stanton held the passenger door open for me and then found a place to park.

  “Are you okay?”

  “A bit of a bruised ankle and scratched hands. That’s about it.”

  He pulled out his notepad. “What happened?”

  I described the attack.

  “You said you had to pull at the wire. Please show me your hands.”

  I held them out, palms up.

  He examined them, raised his eyebrows, and said, “Okay. I have some antibiotic ointment in the car you can put on those scratches when we get back. Are you able to walk well enough to go back and show me the location?”

  I nodded. “It hurts a little, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Let’s go see the place.”

  I limped a bit as we walked. I appreciated the fact that he took it in stride and recognized the difference between minor and major issues.

  We reached the creek. The donkey’s vegetation-covered side protruded several inches above the water. Leaves attached to the structure bobbed up and down, alternately covered with water and popping into view. Stanton’s somber face surveyed the scene as he took notes.

  “You are right. You could’ve been killed. It’s time for you to tell me what’s been going on.”

  We sat on the same bench I’d occupied earlier as I told him everything I knew, what the Silver Sentinels and I had been doing, and what our suspicions were.

  He shook his head. “The attack shows you’re getting to someone, but we don’t know for what reason. There’s nothing to indicate the deaths of Auntie and Summer weren’t accidental, and that’s how they’ve been reported. I can’t investigate those unless something changes the classification,
but your attack will be pursued, and we’ll continue to look into Mary’s incident. I’ll ask some questions about what you’ve told me regarding Auntie and Summer.”

  “Thanks, Deputy Stanton.”

  “I’ll get a crew out here. We’ll check the structure and the surrounding area for anything that might lead us to who is responsible, but I don’t have high hopes we’ll find anything.” He put his notepad away. “You need to be careful until we find out what’s going on.”

  I stood, and we began walking. “I know. No solitary walks in lonely places. I promise.”

  We were back at the parking lot. He pulled some ointment from his first-aid kit and handed it to me. I applied some to my cuts, and we went our separate ways. I was anxious to get back to the inn, shower, and change into clean clothes.

  I parked and retrieved the journal from the wheel well. I entered through a seldom-used side door, not wanting to answer any questions about my appearance.

  I cleaned up, made an espresso, and sank into the window seat. I had a few minutes before I needed to meet the Sentinels. I thought about what had happened. The screeching wheels had made so much noise, I hadn’t been able to make out if the voice belonged to a man or a woman. Who could’ve felt so threatened that they had almost killed me? Since the attack was against me, it was someone I’d had contact with. I thought about the people I’d questioned. There was no obvious suspect.

  I looked at my watch, roused myself, and gathered the chart we’d started at the last meeting. Helen, on top of things as usual, had coffee, water, and tea available in the conference room. She was good at checking the schedule and making the room ready. Sergeant was on the floor near Martha, who had her back to me as she rummaged through her purse.

  “Hi, Martha.”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she kept digging through her bag. Sergeant had sat up when I said Martha’s name. He looked at me, then at his owner. He ran to her, stood on his hind legs, and began pawing at her. She looked at him, and he did a quick circle and headed toward me. Martha turned and followed.

  “Hello, Kelly.” Her voice was on loudspeaker volume.

  I jumped a bit, startled by the sound.

  “Sorry,” she said in response to my movement. “I’m having trouble adjusting to my new hearing aids and took them out.” This time she’d turned her volume down and spoke at a normal decibel level. Martha walked to the chair where she’d placed her purse, picked up the devices next to it, and put them in her ears.

  I looked at Sergeant, who seemed pretty pleased with himself, if his doggie smile was any indication. “Is that how Sergeant alerts you? Tapping on your leg?”

  “It depends on what sound it is. He knows a variety of signals. When someone calls my name and I don’t hear them, he taps, then circles around to let me know to follow him.”

  “It’s amazing what dogs can contribute to our lives.”

  The Chihuahua had settled next to Martha’s feet.

  “To be a hearing-assistance dog, he needs to know at least three signals, but Sergeant knows more than that.”

  “What are some of the things he does?”

  “I often take my hearing aids out when I’m home. If the phone rings and I’m sitting down, he jumps on my lap and pushes my stomach with his front paws. If I’m standing, he plants them on my legs.”

  Sergeant stood and wagged his tail, sensing he was the focus of our conversation.

  “When he hears a knock at the door, he does what you saw today.” Martha sat down. “Princess knows those commands as well, but she started getting a little hard of hearing and was missing some sounds.”

  Mary bustled in. “Thanks for the ride, Professor,” she said over her shoulder as the gentleman followed her into the room.

  “You’re welcome, my dear.”

  Gertie came in and leaned her cane against the table. “I appreciate it, too.”

  The Professor smiled at her.

  Mary placed her dog purse on the chair, and Princess popped into view.

  Male voices with Russian accents heralded the arrival of the Doblinsky brothers.

  I unrolled the chart and put it on the wall. Gertie was sitting near me as I turned around.

  “Kelly, what did you do to your hands?” Gertie demanded. “Let me see.”

  She sounded like a teacher looking after one of her wayward kids.

  I held my hands out.

  Gertie said. “What happened?”

  I gazed at the scratches. “Someone almost killed me today.”

  Chapter 20

  Mary pulled a container out of the bag she’d carried in. “You need these. They’re medicinal.”

  She pulled the lid off and put the plastic box in front of me. Inside were her signature double-fudge brownies. The scent of chocolate was a delight to inhale. Gertie poured me a cup of coffee and set it next to the treats. I reached for one of the chocolate confections. It was a perfect time for my favorite combination. I let the sweetness coat my taste buds and the caffeine seep into my body.

  Finally, I began the story of what had happened, and a short while later they knew it all.

  Mary nudged the container closer to me. “I’m glad you’re okay. Have another brownie. It’ll give you some energy.”

  The Professor had opened his notepad. “It shows you hit someone’s nerve. We need to figure out who.”

  A second brownie sounded good to me, and I helped myself. “I agree, and I want to know what all of you have discovered.”

  I stood, went to the chart, and reviewed what we had so far. “We were trying to decide what was the impetus behind the murder of Auntie and Summer. We made our first column about Auntie’s business. Was someone so angry with her that they killed her and Summer as well? Our second list concerned the attack on Mary. Was it random, possibly by the Lunch Thief, or connected to Auntie and Summer? Or was it a case of mistaken identity and Martha was the target because she was one of the three people on the marriage document? That would connect Martha to the third list, which was the possible consequences of the revelation of the long-ago marriage.” I added, “Who would want to keep that from happening?” to that particular heading.

  The Professor pointed to the first column. “Let’s talk about threats to Auntie and Summer first.”

  Ivan’s voice boomed, his volume close to Martha’s, without her hearing aids. “We check on fisherman that not like Auntie helping wife. Big man with little heart.”

  Rudy leaned forward. “We shared a beer with Jack Smith last night. He hated Auntie and her potions and fortune telling, but Ivan and I felt he feared her. Jack seemed very superstitious.”

  “And he gone at the important time you sent us,” Ivan said.

  Rudy nodded. “He occasionally went to sea for a period of a couple of days. He was out on a boat on Wednesday when you determined the poison was planted.”

  “Good,” Gertie said. “One to cross off our list.”

  I did the honors.

  Mary picked up Princess and put her in her lap. “Katrina Costov is on that list. Today I confirmed she was the one who threatened Auntie, Summer, and me. Kelly and I went to the store where she works, Treasures of the Ocean.”

  I put Treasures of the Ocean after Katrina’s name on our chart. “I went back to get a hair clip for my mom. She mentioned the hours she’d been keeping because the owner is gone. If she was telling the truth, she was working Wednesday afternoon and couldn’t have gone to Auntie’s. Someone named Rachel covered during lunch, and that was from twelve to one.”

  Gertie sat up straight. “Probably Rachel Harding. She works part-time at a number of different stores. I know her. She was in my fifth-grade class. I can talk to her.”

  I added her name after Treasures of the Ocean. “That only leaves one person threatening Auntie—Katrina—and it looks like she probably has an alibi.”

  Mary’s attack was in the next column. All the information we had on the robber had been added, but it hadn’t pointed us in any new direction.


  “I haven’t found anything more about the Lunch Thief that would help us,” the Professor said. “I’ve been collecting information about Ken and Diane’s families. Nothing jumps out as important, but we can add what I’ve learned to the chart.”

  The third column, which we’d labeled “issues with the marriage,” had Ken and Diane’s names and “inheritances of children” noted under it.

  “We talked about why people would kill to keep this from being known,” I said. “Money took first place. Let’s discuss how that would impact the two families involved.” I held up my felt pen. “Where would you like to start?”

  Rudy got up and came over to me. “Let me do the writing. You’ve had a rough day.”

  I was grateful to take the weight off my ankle and let my hands have to hold only a brownie or a coffee mug.

  “Let’s do Diane,” I said. “She’s very wealthy, and I can’t see any motive on her part. Even if Ken was able to claim some of it as a spouse, it wouldn’t change her lifestyle. Because of the extent of her holdings, she has a group of attorneys she works with. They’re top of the line, and I think they’ll make mincemeat of this whole situation.”

  The Professor examined his notes. “What I’ve learned concurs with that. She’s quite a philanthropist, and much of what I found out came from the society columns.”

  “Her husband left their two sons a very successful business, and they live on family estates,” I added. “They’re on vacation in Europe and have been since last week.”

  “I have the name of their corporation and some financial background. It corroborates what she told you,” the Professor said.

  Gertie said, “I suggest we forget about Diane for now and concentrate on Ken’s family.”

  Ken’s family. Money was so much the focus of their lives.

  “Who should we start with?” Mary asked.

  “I feel a new chart is in order just for this family,” Rudy said as he wrote the name Ken on a new piece of paper he’d put on the wall. “He’s the one who’s responsible for the disruption to his family.” He transferred the piece about the kids’ inheritance being jeopardized.