“Oh, but we have to go soon.” Gran sounded urgent. “The cats are probably being taken away right now, and I must be at the restaurant later this morning to start making the soups. Somebody already cleaned off my driveway this morning--I suspect Codfish had something to do with that.” Edna caught the distinct pleasure in Gran’s voice before the older woman went on more somberly, “The road has been plowed, too.” When Edna didn’t answer at once, Gran said, “You could drive the Kia.” After another brief pause, she said, “Would now be a good time to go?”
The discussion about CATS had started Edna wondering why Mary had gone back to the shelter the previous afternoon. Gran’s question snapped her back to the present problem. “I suppose I can go now. If we’re to use Carol’s car, I’ll walk over to your place. Give me ten minutes.”
“Oh, thank you, Edna. You’re such a good neighbor.” Gran hurried on as if she were afraid Edna might change her mind. “I’ll go warm up the car.”
The town road crews were out, clearing and sanding as quickly as they could, so driving wasn’t as treacherous as Edna had feared. She drove slowly and was able to pull into Laurel’s driveway, parking behind a white van. “Perry Animal Clinic” was printed on the back in large black letters, along with a phone number and a web site address. In front of the van was a patrol car.
“What a funny-looking little house,” Gran exclaimed, staring at the gingerbread-adorned building that almost looked like only half a house. “It’s unusual to see the front door so far over to one side.”
“It is a little strange,” Edna agreed. “Inside, all the rooms are off to the left.”
Gran laughed. “That’s one thing I like about older neighborhoods, so many of the houses were uniquely built. No problem mistaking your neighbor’s house for your own like some of the modern communities.”
“Shall we go in?” Edna was beginning to get cold. She enjoyed the octogenarian, but Gran tended to get side-tracked. Edna sometimes wondered if Gran needed to talk while she had an audience before going back to her single life in Florida.
Knowing someone from both the police department and Jake’s clinic were already in the house, Edna didn’t bother to knock or ring the bell. Instead, she opened the door and stuck her head in. “Hallooo,” she called. “May we come in?”
Without waiting for an answer, she stepped over the threshold with Gran close on her heels. Remembering what Charlie had said about the Christmas balls shattered and scattered over the hallway, Edna saw that someone had swept them aside, probably so they wouldn’t be ground into the wood floor under trampling boots. The evergreen garland, too, was lying beside the staircase with the broken glass. Edna shivered as she imagined Laurel trying to stop her fall by grabbing onto the flimsy boa. She glanced up at the light fixture where Mary had hung mistletoe and was surprised to see that a dangling bit of red ribbon was all that remained. Only the broad, red ribbons with their festive greeting cards still decorated the wall, undisturbed by whatever had happened. Two canvas animal carriers sat at the foot of the stairs. Edna could see Charcoal and Snowflake huddled together in one.
“Hi.” A woman in police uniform walked down the hall from the kitchen, announcing her presence. “This house is restricted for the time being. Can I help you with something?”
At that same moment, Roselyn appeared at the top of the staircase holding a kitten in the crook of her arm. As she descended, an older, long-haired cat scampered down beside her. Edna thought she recognized the markings of a Maine Coon, one of the prettiest and smartest of the domestic felines. She must be the one Laurel had named “Auntie Bea.”
So as not to snub the authority in charge of the house, Edna introduced herself and Gran before tipping her head toward Roselyn. “We’ve come to pick up the kitten. Mrs. Cravendorf has adopted her. We heard the shelters are full, so we thought we’d come over and take her off your hands.”
While Edna was explaining their presence to the police officer, Gran had rushed forward to meet the veterinarian’s wife at the bottom of the stairs. “Is that our Callie,” she cooed, holding out her hands to take the kitten. The orange and black splashes of color on its mostly white body distinctly marked the tiny feline as both a calico and a female.
Roselyn shied and turned from Gran at the same time as she spoke to the patrol woman. “This is the lot. Laurel had only four in the house.” She spoke quietly, keeping her head down and her attention focused on the cats now in her care.
Roselyn was tall with an athlete’s build. She was a plain-looking woman who wore little or no makeup, and looked younger than her thirty-something years with her shiny brown hair pulled into a careless ponytail. Wisps of stray, straight strands had been tucked behind one ear. Edna’s artistic assessment of the woman’s features was interrupted by Gran speaking to the woman.
“I’m Joanna Cravendorf. I’d already arranged everything with Mrs. Taylor to get the kitten this morning.”
Roselyn spoke softly, as if to the bundle in her arm, “The cats will have to go to the clinic first. They can be adopted out from there.” Still she didn’t look at the other women, but bent and gently placed her small charge into the empty carrier. As soon as she did so, Auntie Bea scooted in and sat crosswise between the door and the kitten, as if to protect the little one.
“Can we follow you to the clinic? You see, Callie is a Christmas present for my granddaughter and I’d like her to get used to the house before Carol--that’s my granddaughter--before she gets home from Chicago. I must go to work this morning and I don’t want to impose on my friend …” Gran would have prattled on, but the police woman spoke up, stopping the flood of information Gran was offering.
“The Perrys must check the cats, make certain they’re healthy and have all their shots. They have to follow procedures and fill out the paperwork. I’m sorry but you’ll have to arrange to pick up your kitten at another time.”
While the officer explained the process to Gran, Roselyn secured the latches on the carrier doors. In the past year of taking Benjamin to Perry’s Animal Clinic, Edna had met the woman only once, learning from Mary that the veterinarian’s wife was painfully shy. Her main responsibility was taking care of the animals they were boarding for longer than a few hours. The kennels that housed the animals at the back of the main office and surgery were Roselyn’s domain.
She was still tending to the carriers when the policewoman stepped up to Gran. Extending an arm like a barrier, she gently herded the elderly woman back toward Edna and the front door. “As I said before, this is a restricted area. We’re here this morning only to get the cats. I must ask you to leave now. We’ll be heading out shortly ourselves.” The uniformed woman smiled as if to soften any implied reprimand.
While she had the chance, Edna spoke quickly. “Roselyn, have you seen Mary or heard from her?”
The veterinarian’s wife stood, lifting both carriers, but didn’t turn around. Edna wondered if Roselyn had even heard the question, but before she could repeat it, the policewoman hustled Edna and Gran out onto the porch. “You need to move your car. We’ll be right behind you.” She was still smiling when she shut the door behind them.
Edna took hold of Gran’s arm as they trudged slowly through the snow back to the Kia. Once inside with seat belts fastened, Gran said, “I’m sorry, Edna. This has been a disappointing and wasted trip.” She sounded dejected. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to pick up our kitten before Carol gets home. She’s due to fly in tomorrow afternoon.”
Edna was only vaguely aware of Gran’s chatter as she continued to wonder what could have happened to Mary. Were Hank and Spot with her? Edna couldn’t imagine Mary neglecting her pets. Surely, Roselyn or Jake must have heard from Mary.
“Edna?” Gran’s persistent and loud calling of her name startled Edna.
“Sorry, Gran, I was thinking about our missing neighbor. What were you saying?”
“I asked if you wouldn’t mind stopping at Krispin’s on the way home. It’s only a block
or two out of the way. I’d like to check that Priscilla has all the supplies I need for making soup today.”
With her thoughts now turned on all she had to do, but not knowing how to say no, Edna agreed. Beginning to feel very anxious about her friend, she couldn’t get Mary off her mind, either. This disappearance wasn’t like her. Where could she be and why hadn’t she been in contact? Her big Christmas Eve open house was only two days away, the day Edna’s own children and grandchildren were scheduled to fly in from Colorado. She glanced at the overcast and darkening sky. The snow had begun to fall again.
Chapter 11
Krispin’s Kitchen closed between breakfast and lunch, so Gran dug in her purse and pulled out a key to the front door. The sidewalk had been shoveled and sprinkled with a mixture of sand and snowmelt, but already, newly fallen snow dusted the pavement. Whoever had cleared the walk had also been kind enough to remove the mound of snow left by the street plows, so Edna was able to park in front of the building.
Sleigh bells hanging on the back of the door clanged and jingled their arrival. The long, narrow diner was warm and smelled of percolating coffee. A counter ran along the right-hand side with a cash register at the near end. Beneath the register, a glass case displayed an assortment of locally made jewelry and other small craft items. Behind the counter, a pass-through offered a view into the kitchen.
Eight bar stools were lined up along the counter. Four booths occupied the left-hand wall and six square tables filled the middle of the room, leaving just enough space for servers to squeeze by. Edna’s first impression of the small restaurant was that it was welcoming.
Christmas decorations were homemade and minimal but clever. Wreaths of green construction paper surrounded the portholes in the double, swinging doors to the kitchen. Pasted above the pass-through window, a cardboard cut-out sleigh, pulled by eight reindeer and led by a red-nosed Rudolph, slanted upward toward the ceiling. The jolly man holding the reins waved at the room while gaily wrapped presents spilled from an overloaded bag into the bed of the large sled. The only other decoration that caught Edna’s eye was a green ceramic tree, complete with tiny, multi-colored lights, sitting on the far side of the old-fashioned cash register. A young man was sitting at a back table finishing his breakfast. Edna guessed he was the one who had cleared the walk.
“Hi, Vinnie,” Gran called, raising a hand in greeting as she walked to the far end of the counter and disappeared through swinging doors into the room beyond, leaving Edna alone with the stranger.
“Vinnie?”
Although it was a thought she’d spoken aloud, he answered. “Yes, ma’am. Vinnie Valmont at your service.” He rose and pulled out a chair, inviting her to join him. “Like a cup of coffee?”
“I’d love a coffee regular, please.” Edna replied as she removed her coat and draped it over a nearby chair before sitting. The room was warm and felt good after the bitter cold of the outside.
He picked up his thick, white porcelain mug and headed for a set of glass pots on the warming burners behind the counter. One pot had a black spout, the other was orange.
“Here you are,” he said on his return, “coffee with cream. Hope half and half is okay.” He set the mug on the table in front of her before resuming his own seat.
“Perfect. Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the hot cup and introduced herself.
He grinned at her, raising his eyebrows. “You’re Mary Osbourne’s neighbor, aren’t you?”
She laughed in surprise. “Now, how do you know that?”
“Tell you in a minute, but I have a question first. I’m having an argument with one of the customers about ‘coffee regular’.”
Edna lifted her cup, took a sip, and waited for Vinnie to continue.
“He’s from New York and says that when he asks for ‘a regular,’ he gets coffee with cream and two sugars.”
She thought for a minute, pulling a memory from her past. “When my brother was in the army, away from home for the first time, he learned fast that ‘regular’ means different things in different parts of the country. For some, it means both cream and sugar and for others, particularly in the south and west, it means ‘black and caffeinated.’ In Rhode Island, we mean ‘cream, no sugar’ I think, because sugar is on the table along with salt, pepper and other condiments--or it used to be when I was a girl. Not the packets they have today, but real sugar in glass jars with stainless steel lids. Cream wasn’t left on the table because it would spoil.”
“Hmmm,” Vinnie said, taking a drink from his own mug. “The only sense all that makes is, I’d better ask each customer what he means when he orders ‘regular’ coffee.”
“That would be safest.” Edna laughed at his lopsided grin. “Now, will you tell me how you know I’m Mary’s neighbor?”
“Friend of mine mentioned you yesterday. Said you and Mary were going to get our back pay from Laurel Taylor.”
Edna nearly choked on the coffee she’d just sipped. Remembering the conversation in Mary’s kitchen from two days ago, she said, “You’re talking about Bethany Marco, if I’m not mistaken.” When he nodded, she went on. “I hope you hadn’t gotten your hopes up.”
Leaning his forearms on the table with his own cup between his hands, Vinnie lowered his head to stare into the dark liquid, so Edna couldn’t see his expression when he said, “Yeah, I heard. The wicked witch is dead.”
A bit shocked by the disrespect of his comment, she marveled at the speed of communications in small communities. “How did you hear?”
He sat back in his chair, finally looking at her. “Bethany told me when I drove her to Kingston Station last night.”
Edna thought quickly. Laurel had been found late yesterday afternoon. How had Bethany learned of it? Had she spoken to Mary? “What time did you take her to the station?”
He frowned as if puzzled by the question, but answered without hesitation. “A little after six. She caught the six forty-seven to Boston.”
Mary was seen leaving CATS at four-thirty and Bethany tells Vinnie about Laurel less than two hours later. How did she know so fast? Thinking about it, Edna thought it might have been the volunteer who found Laurel. She probably would have been on the phone to anyone else who worked or had worked at the shelter. Bethany told Vinnie who told Codfish who phoned Gran. And so on, and so on, Edna thought and would have smiled at the speed of small-town grapevines except for the seriousness of the event.
“One of the neighbors saw Bethany ride her bike up to Laurel’s house yesterday afternoon.” If Vinnie wondered where she had heard this news, he kept silent, so she went on, hoping to stir a response. “I’m surprised she went back after the way Laurel treated her.”
He shrugged and looked away from her toward the view into the kitchen. “Bethany gets impatient about things. She said she hadn’t heard from Mary, so she decided to go see Laurel herself.”
“I thought she didn’t want to speak to Laurel ever again. That’s why she asked Mary and me to go.”
He turned back to face her with another shrug. “What can I say? I sure don’t understand women.” His smile was crooked, as if in apology.
“How did she know we hadn’t already gotten the money for her?” Edna felt a flash of irritation toward the young woman. If Bethany was able to speak to Laurel herself, why had she sent Mary and Edna to intercede for her? A waste of my time, Edna thought before her ire was replaced by a surge of hope. “Was she finally able to talk to Mary yesterday afternoon? Is that how she knew about Laurel’s death?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. All she told me was that she went over there to get what was owed her. The train ticket tapped her out, and she needed cash for Christmas.”
“Was it a last-minute decision?” Edna asked, “to go to Boston?”
“Far as I know.” Folding his hands on top of his head, Vinnie tipped back in his chair so the front two legs left the floor as he stared at Edna. “Classes are over, so when she lost her job, she decided to go home a
couple of days early.”
“What time was she at the shelter?” Edna not only wanted to know if Bethany might have seen Mary, but she also thought the information would be of interest to Charlie. Bethany seemed to have been in the vicinity at the pertinent time yesterday.
Vinnie shrugged again, raising his elbows as well as his shoulders with the motion. “Must’ve been around four. Maybe a little before, maybe a little after. I dunno. She borrowed the bike from my uncle. He and I were helping get ready for supper customers at the Kitchen when she brought it back. That’s when she asked if I’d take her to the train station.”
“What did Laurel say to her?” Edna was thinking fast. Charlie should know about this. Maybe Bethany was the last one to see Laurel alive. Maybe they’d quarreled. The idea dissolved with Vinnie’s next words.
“She didn’t talk to Laurel. Didn’t see her at all.”
Edna raised her eyebrows. “How do you know?”
“She told me. Said the Perrys’ car was in the driveway. She wanted to see Laurel alone. Didn’t want to make a scene with others around, I guess.”
“The Perrys’ car?” Edna thought for a few seconds before asking, “Their car or the van?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember. She might have said ‘van’.”
Edna felt exasperated. She needed to speak with Bethany herself, or Charlie needed to. At the moment though, Vinnie would have to do. “She biked all that way and then didn’t go inside or talk to anyone? What did she do?”
He dropped his hands from his head and leaned forward, bringing the chair’s front legs back to the floor with a thud. “She said she rode around the block a couple of times, but she was getting cold, so she decided she wouldn’t wait around any longer. She just headed back to town.” He was speaking brusquely now, as if he were tired of the conversation or annoyed at Edna’s tone.
Murder by Christmas (Edna Davies mysteries) Page 9
