Potions and Puzzles

by Agnes Lester Brown

  From afar, Lori could see Mrs. Barkley standing in front of the cottage door, knocking. Hearing Lori approach, Mrs. Barkley turned to her with a worried look on her face.

  “Alvin was supposed to have had breakfast with me in the house an hour ago, but he never showed up. I’ve been knocking on his door for ten minutes but he’s not answering. Is he a very sound sleeper?”

  “He was due to have been at the inn by now,” Lori said as she banged on the door. After waiting a few seconds, she knocked again, and when no one answered, she turned the door handle.

  The door opened. That wasn’t unusual; no one in Fennelmoore locked their doors, since the crime rate was close to zero. All the curtains were drawn, making the room too dark to see. She fumbled for a light switch and turned it on.

  Alvin’s unmade bed was empty.

  She glanced around the room. His suitcase stood open in a corner, and a crossword puzzle book lay open on the dressing table. Alvin had clearly been practicing for the tournament, because the crossword on the page where the book was opened at was filled in. She looked in the bathroom. Alvin had showered that morning, because damp towels and a puddle of water covered the floor.

  Relieved that at least Alvin had not left town, Lori started thinking of possible places he might have gone to. Perhaps he’d gone for a walk to Emerald Forest and lost track of time—it had happened to her more than once before. Being alone in nature sometimes did that to a person.

  She turned to Mrs. Barkley, who was standing in the doorway, looking worried and helpless. “If anyone comes by, please tell them I’ve gone to search for Alvin at Emerald Forest,” she said before hurrying outside and onto the street.

  As she got to the footpath on Cumin Lane, her cell phone buzzed. It was a message from Kermit, written in capital letters.

  WHERE IS ALVIN??

  Moments later, a message from Nick came in.

  Need you urgently at the inn.

  And then another from Rosie.

  Everyones lookin for u.

  Lori felt her chest tighten, forcing her to breathe harder as she ran. If she didn’t find Alvin where she thought he was, there was going to be hell to pay. She put her phone back into her jeans pocket without answering any of the messages.

  Out of breath, she slowed down along the footpath that led up an incline to a narrow rise with a perfect view over Fennelmoore. Just off the path was a thirty-foot-high round boulder called Eagle Rock, where she often came to relax, meditate and admire the scenery. Instinctively, she approached it and then circled around, hoping with each step to spot Alvin. If her hunch was right, this was where he would be.

  She was right. As she continued around the boulder, she saw Alvin sitting with his back against the rock face, staring into the distance.

  “Alvin! For Pete’s sake, what are you doing here!” Lori’s relief mixed with frustration as she rushed over to him.

  “Get up. You should have been at the inn an hour ago!” she yelled, yanking at his shirt. As she tugged, Alvin fell over sideways without uttering a sound.

  Lori drew in her breath and retreated a step backwards. Then she knelt down slowly beside him and touched his hand, jerking it back immediately. Alvin’s hand was ice-cold.

  Alvin was dead.

  Lori had never before seen a lifeless person. In shock she went down on her hunches, hid her head in her lap and began wailing like an inconsolable baby. What about his distraught family? was the first thing she thought as she cried. If they were anything like her own kin, they’d be totally destroyed to hear that he was dead.

  After a minute, she managed to get her sobbing under control and lifted her head, wiping the tears from her eyes as she wrestled her cell phone from her pocket. She looked through her contact list but couldn’t find a number for the Fennelmoore police station. She hardly had a reason to have it on her phone. She was about to dial 911, but then stopped and dialed Rosie’s number instead. Rosie would have the deputy chief at the station’s number. After all, Ray Greenstone and she had been engaged for a while now.

  Rosie answered immediately.

  “Where are you, Lori? The whole world is looking for you!”

  “No time to talk now,” Lori said. “Can you get Ray to come urgently? I’m on the footpath at Eagle Rock. I found Alvin here. I have to go now.” She’d have more than enough time to fill Rosie in on the details later.

  Rosie’s urgent tone stopped Lori from hanging up.

  “Lori, wait. Don’t go. Kermit’s here. He wants to speak to you.”

  Lori closed her eyes as she waited for the sound of Kermit’s voice.

  “I want you and Alvin here now,” Kermit snapped without saying hello.

  Lori hesitated.

  “Lori, where are you?”

  “Alvin’s dead. I’m sorry, Kermit.”

  Lori steeled herself for a barrage of insults, but it didn’t come. In fact, he hardly seemed surprised.

  “Dead? Oh. What happened?”

  “I didn’t find him at the cottage, so I came looking for him in the fields outside town. It looks like he sat down along the way, and something must’ve happened. Rosie will call the police. She knows the deputy chief. I’m so sorry, Kermit,” Lori said again.

  “Well, the show must go on. Keep me updated.” And with that, Kermit hung up.

  Taken aback, Lori put her phone back into her pocket. For someone who’d just lost his leading star player, Kermit seemed almost blasé. Maybe he was in shock and hadn’t registered the severity of what she’d told him.

  Uncertain about what to do next, Lori forced herself to look at Alvin where he’d fallen over in the grass beside the rock face. Her eye caught a pill bottle lying next to him. It looked similar to the one she’d seen at the cottage the previous day and must have fallen from his pocket. A handful of white-and-green capsules had spilled onto the grass beside him. She stopped herself from jumping to conclusions, instead looking down the path toward town to see if anyone was making their way to Eagle Rock yet.

  She’d just sat down beside the path when she heard the sound of the police station’s black Ford Interceptor SUV approaching. Her heart sank as the vehicle drew closer and she saw who was driving. While she got along great with the likeable Ray Greenstone, she couldn’t say the same about the man behind the wheel.

  “Well, well, if it ain’t the lovely Lori Whitewood, waiting to be rescued,” the burly baldheaded man said as he got out of the SUV. He paused as he unwrapped and popped a lollipop into his mouth and put a pair of wraparound sunglasses on. “What have you got for me here, Lori?”

  Forgetting the trauma of Alvin’s death for a moment, Lori looked at the policeman with distaste. She’d only met Chief Bob Winters once, at Rosie and Ray’s engagement party. Within fifteen minutes of being introduced, the two had had a standup shouting match after Bob had made a snide remark about Lori’s low-cut dress. But he was Ray’s boss and would be in charge of investigating Alvin’s death, so she had to keep her poise—if that was at all possible under the circumstances.

  “Morning, Chief Winters,” Lori said and bit back a snide remark about him looking like Kojak with the lollipop in his mouth. She gestured to the other side of the boulder. “I came looking for Alvin Parkinson and found him here. He’s one of the competitors at the crossword tournament happening at the Misty Hills Inn, and he didn’t arrive for the competition this morning.”

  “Yeah, I heard it’s quite a circus at the inn,” Bob said as he walked around to the town-facing side of the boulder. He looked at Alvin while putting on blue gloves, then felt for a pulse before stepping back. Surveying the area around Alvin, he pointed his shoe at the pill bottle and the pills lying scattered beside him.

  “Looks like we have a suspected suicide here.” He looked up at Fennelmoore, lying tranquil below them at the foot of the hill. “At least he passed while taking in some fine scenery. I heard from Ray you’re involved with the… this crossword thing, so I take it you’ve met this individual before?�
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  “I saw him yesterday at the cottage he’s staying at. He seemed fine, not depressed or—” Lori couldn’t get herself to say “suicidal.”

  “Suicidal,” Bob read her mind and finished her sentence. He bent down and read the label on the pill bottle, then whistled through his teeth. “A handful of these are sure to put you out for good.” He placed the bottle and pills in a plastic evidence bag.

  Getting up, Bob looked at Lori. “Anything else, or are we done for now?”

  Lori bit back her tears in the presence of the brutish policeman. “I guess so,” was all she could muster.

  “I’ll come back later to the inn, and I’d appreciate it if you could introduce me to the people there,” Bob said. “Let me finish with the police business here first.”

  Lori walked slowly along the footpath back to town. She was sure her makeup was a mess after all the crying, so she headed home first. She wanted to clean up and regain her composure before going to the inn to break the news of Alvin’s death to everyone. There’d be a barrage of questions to face, no doubt.

  After washing up and making herself a cup of chamomile tea, Lori felt less raw about what she’d just witnessed. As she was readying herself to go to the inn, someone knocked on the door.

  It was Mrs. Barkley.

  “I saw you coming back from the forest,” she said. “Did you manage to find Alvin?”

  “Please come inside,” Lori said, thinking it was best the old lady was sitting down when she broke the news about what had happened to Alvin.

  Mrs. Barkley shuffled past Lori and sat down in the living room. Lori poured her a cup of chamomile tea as well.

  Lori took Mrs. Barkley’s hand. “I’m afraid Alvin’s dead,” she said, as gently as she could while swallowing back tears at the same time.

  Mrs. Barkley’s wrinkled, fair complexion turned a shade paler. “But why? What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but he died peacefully. Perhaps he was ill or something,” Lori responded. Her eyes teared up as Mrs. Barkley, looking confused, digested what Lori had just said.

  “He was such a fine young man,” Mrs. Barkley lamented. “He had dinner with me last night, you know. He helped me wash up afterwards, and showed me photographs of all the wonderful places he’d been to. Did you know he caused quite a sensation in Las Vegas?”

  Lori nodded sadly. For Alvin, the show was now over.

  “Did he mention any family to you? We’ll need to get in contact with them to let them know what happened,” Lori said.

  “He spoke about his mother, but no one else.” Mrs. Barkley held up a thick brown wallet she’d been carrying when she arrived at the door. “He forgot his wallet when he left last night. Perhaps there are names and contact details in there.”

  Lori took the wallet from her and opened it gingerly. She cherished her own privacy and felt uncomfortable going through the belongings of someone she hardly knew, even more so now that that person was deceased.

  Stuck in the left folder of the wallet were several credit cards and a wad of cash. She looked through the right-hand pouch and found a driver’s license, a folded scrap of paper and a small photograph of a smiling baby. It looked like the photo had been taken professionally, perhaps in a studio.

  “Did he show you this?” Lori asked, holding out the photo for Mrs. Barkley to see. “Looks like he had a child. Did he talk about a wife or girlfriend?”

  Mrs. Barkley peered at the photo. “No, he never showed me that. He said he had many girlfriends, which wasn’t surprising for such a charming man. Looks a lot like Alvin, doesn’t he?”

  Lori turned the photo over, hoping to see something written on the back that would identify the baby. Seeing that the back of the photo was blank, she reluctantly put it back into Alvin’s wallet.

  “Well, I guess I better go clean up the cottage if Alvin won’t be coming back,” Mrs. Barkley said.

  “Let’s just wait until his relatives have been told about his death,” Lori said quickly. “And the police may also want to take a look.”

  “The police?” Mrs. Barkley asked, looking puzzled. “Do you think he was murdered?”

  “No, no, not at all,” Lori answered hastily. “It’s just routine.”

  After seeing Mrs. Barkley off, Lori hurried to the Misty Hills Inn. In the lounge, she was greeted by a boisterous crowd surrounding a radiantly smiling Brenda, who was holding up a fluted glass in one hand and a bottle of French champagne in the other. Kermit was making his rounds among those gathered, filling their glasses with another bottle of champagne. No doubt Brenda was celebrating her win of the morning, but for a bizarre moment, Lori imagined that she and Kermit were celebrating Alvin’s death.

  Sophie was walking around with a tray of glasses. She paused as she passed Lori, offering her a glass. “Brenda won this morning,” she said, trying to make herself heard above the noise in the room. Lori declined her offer, managing a weak smile. She looked at Brenda and for a moment thought she had caught her eye, but Brenda didn’t seem to recognize or remember her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Hazel beckoning for her to come into the kitchen. Once inside she found the twins and her aunt, wide-eyed and anxious to hear about Alvin.

  “Did you manage to find him?” Jasmine asked as Lori closed the door behind her.

  “I can tell by that look on your face,” Hazel said in a mournful voice before Lori could say a word. “You found him, and he’s dead. Grandpa Randolph was once again right.”

  “Let her speak,” Rosie said irritably. “Please tell us you found him somewhere alive and well.”

  “I wish I could tell you that. But Alvin’s dead, and it’s my fault. I should never have let him sleep outside the inn.”

  All three looked at Lori, stunned. “How… what happened?” Jasmine asked and pulled up a chair for Lori to sit down.

  “I expected to find him at the cottage, but he wasn’t there. Then I thought he might have gone for a walk, so I went to look for him at Emerald Forest. I found him sitting at Eagle Rock. He looked so peaceful and content. Then I saw the pill bottle next to him, and…” She hesitated. “It could be that he had taken some pills while he was there, because when I touched him, he was ice cold.” She swallowed hard and shook her head before continuing. “Yesterday Kermit gave me a long speech about the security of the contestants, how important that was, and how I was jeopardizing Alvin’s safety by taking him away from the inn. This was the last thing I expected to happen. For all I know, Kermit may be busy right now planning how to sue the pants off me.”

  She frowned as she continued. “When I spoke to Alvin yesterday, he was upbeat and looking forward to winning this morning’s competition. Why would he go and kill himself then? It doesn’t make sense.”

  The door swung open and Nick poked his head through. “Sorry to disturb, but Kermit’s about to make an announcement in the hall. You guys may want to come hear what he has to say.” He noticed the somber looks on the four assembled faces. “I expect it’s going to be bad news, then.”

  They followed Nick into the hall, where Kermit already stood with a microphone in his hand. His voice was flat and devoid of emotion as he spoke.

  “I apologize for disturbing the festivities outside, everyone. I know you’re in a celebratory mood but I felt we have to make this announcement as soon as possible. We’ve just learned of the untimely death of the current crossword world champion, Alvin Parkinson. We’ve been told that he has committed suicide. That’s all information we have at present. A media statement will be issued in due course, and a memorial service will be held tomorrow morning before competition commences. In the meanwhile, the World Championship Crossword Tournament will continue as planned.”

  With that, Kermit abruptly walked off the stage, ignoring the calls from reporters in the audience amid flashing cameras.

  “Alvin didn’t commit suicide,” Lori said to no one in particular as Kermit disappeared. She looked around helplessly. No one had heard
her as everyone was either leaving the hall or had broken into small groups, engaging in animated discussion.

  As she sat in the emptying hall, a slow anger took hold of Lori. There was only one person who could’ve planted the idea of suicide in Kermit’s head.

  She jumped up and stormed to the front of the hall, knocking down three chairs before jumping onto the stage and rushing backstage.

  Kermit and Chief Winters were standing together talking intimately as Lori rounded a corner in the room and strode towards them.

  “Chief Winters, I’d like a word,” Lori said, ignoring Kermit.

  “And hello to you too, Lori, on this sad day,” Kermit said to her. “I think everything said about Alvin’s suicide needs to be done in my presence, don’t you?”

  “Later, with pleasure, Kermit. Right now I have a bone to pick with the chief,” Lori snapped.

  “Since Kermit’s the boss of this tournament, I think it’s only fair he hears what you have to say, Lori,” Chief Winters said. “What’s on your mind, then?”

  A small voice was sowing a seed of doubt in Lori’s mind. Was she being paranoid, thinking there might be another explanation for Alvin’s death? All the evidence certainly pointed to suicide.

  “All right, then, if you insist. All I’m asking is, what if it wasn’t suicide? What if he overdosed by accident? What if he died of natural causes, like a heart attack or something? Calling it suicide without really knowing for sure is unfair to Alvin.”

  Kermit answered Lori with a condescending laugh.

  “Now listen to me carefully, Lori, because you don’t know squat about Alvin, and I’m sure he gave you a sob story about his sad existence. Alvin Parkinson was a man haunted by his demons and terrorized by his insecurities and fears. His brilliance tortured him, like it does all geniuses. The more he tried to numb himself with fame, drugs and the adoration of his hordes of fans, the more depressed he became. The only thing holding him up was me.” Kermit tapped his forefinger on his chest. “I’m devastated because the noble art of crosswording has just lost its star attraction and one of its most intelligent minds. But with all due respect, it was just a matter of time before he killed himself, and I think we should all let him rest in peace. There’s no other logical explanation for his death.”