by Nan Sampson
“Sure. Let me just sweep up this mess first.”
“That can wait. There’ll be no sweeping up until the Crime Scene boys from Madison have been here and gone.”
The thought of her perfect shop trashed by careless cops made her want to cry again, and that made her angry. She was done with crying. She’d cried enough in the last year to fill the Chicago River. Of course, she thought she’d been done with crime and murder too. “Fine.” She stalked over to an empty table – and not the one he’d gestured toward -- and sat down, refusing to tow his line, even in the choice of tables. It was infantile, but it felt like the only thing she could control.
Gruetzmacher pulled out another chair and settled himself. The ubiquitous cop’s notebook quickly appeared, followed by a ball point pen that he clicked into action.
“Can you give me your full name and address?”
“Elspeth… or rather Robin Elspeth Gooden – but I go by Ellie.”
The Chief quirked an eyebrow at her. “Your name is Robin but you choose to go by Elspeth?”
She scowled at him. It was none of his freaking business what name she went by. As he continued to stare at her, she almost caved under the pressure to explain, that it was a teenage rebellion against her mother, who had chosen Robin when family tradition would have had Elspeth, an ancestral name, be her given name. That her grandmother had never called her Robin, only Elspeth and that it drove her mother crazy the summer she came back from Salem and would no longer answer to Robin.
She pressed her lips together for a moment, sucked in a breath through her nose, then made sure she kept her tone even when she spoke again. “At this exact moment I don’t have an address. But as soon as Artie--” She paused, rethought her wording. “I was going to move into Artie’s cabin as soon as he left for New Mexico with his daughters and Earl Mough finished with some renovations. In the meantime, I’ll be staying at the Inn, here in town.”
Gruetzmacher made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “So, what happened this morning?”
Ellie sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, trying like hell to ground and center herself, but feeling more like a leaf in a tornado than tree roots hunkered down in the earth. “I got into town about 8:45. I was going to check in at the Inn first, but changed my mind at the last minute and came to the shop instead.” She’d be damned if she’d tell him she’d had a premonition of something bad about to happen. Cops of any ilk, small town or big city alike, wanted no truck at all with woo-woo stuff like premonitions.
“When was the last time you were here?”
“Last weekend. I came to oversee the final remodeling. Then I had to go back home for the closing on my condo and my parents’…” She felt her throat close, dug her fingernails into her palms to keep control. Clearing her throat, she continued. “My parents’ old house.”
“Okay. So you drove into town and…”
“I parked behind the shop then let myself in the back door.”
“Was the door locked?”
She thought about that, then nodded. “Yeah. Both the door lock and the deadbolt.”
Gruetzmacher scribbled. “Okay. Then what?”
She described seeing the light in the kitchen, figuring that Artie had gotten here first with his surprise, and how she’d gone in through the swinging doors and found his body. The syrup. The feathers. Her butcher knife sticking out of his chest.
Reliving it as she told it, she felt goose-bumps rise again on her arms. “It was so odd. There was syrup everywhere, and the feathers. But I don’t remember any blood. It was like… he’d bled syrup instead.”
“You said ‘your butcher knife’. You’re sure it was one of yours?”
“Well, no. Not positive. I mean, I didn’t check out the knife stand. But it looked like one of the set I bought.” She looked up at him, trying to read whatever was behind that perpetual, mildly amused expression. “Was it?”
“I can’t say for sure yet. We’ll know more after the forensics lab in Madison get through processing the evidence.” He consulted the notes he’d written. “You said you thought Artie was early. He was supposed to meet you here? At what time?”
“Ten o’clock. Although, based on my admittedly limited experience with Artie, I didn’t think he’d show until at least 10:30.”
Gruetzmacher’s lips curled up slightly. “Artie did live on Artie-time. Pretty much lived by his own rules in regards to everything.” He clicked his pen a couple of times by pressing it against his palm. “Do you remember seeing anyone else in the alley when you parked? Anyone on the street outside the shop?”
“No. I remember thinking the street a bit empty – I figured everyone was probably at church.”
From behind her, Ellie heard Laura give a quiet snort. “Or sleeping off Saturday night’s binge. There was a Miners’ game last night, and I heard the party went on at the 2nd Street Tavern until past closing time.”
Ellie glanced over at her. “Minors? We have a minor league team here in Horizon?”
Laura laughed again. “No. The Miners, with an “e”, are our local just-for-fun softball team. Some of Horizon’s best and brightest – if you listen to Karl Howard.”
Gruetzmacher scowled. “Howard better watch his Ps and Qs if he wants to keep his liquor license.” He turned his attention back to Ellie. “So what happened after you found Artie? What did you do next?”
Ellie had to think about that. After she’d seen the knife, the rest got kind of fuzzy. “I… I know I left the shop through the front door. I remember thinking I had to find the police. But I didn’t know if Horizon even had police.”
“We’re a small force, but we get the job done. Three of us full-time, including me and Sam.” He returned to business. “So. You left the shop to look for help. You went through the front door. Was it locked?”
“Um… yes. I remember I had trouble getting it open. Couldn’t get the dead bolt to turn. I think my hands were slippery.”
Gruetzmacher got up and went over to the front door, where he examined the door knob and the dead bolt latch. “Syrup. Have to get the boys to take a sample of that.” He came back and sat down again. “We’ll need you to stop by the station later today. They’ll want fingerprints from you, a reference sample for purposes of elimination. Did you go anywhere else inside while you were here today? Store room? Office? Touched anything else that you can think of?”
There was something about the way the man said it that raised Ellie’s hackles. It felt vaguely accusatory. “No. Not that I can think of.”
“Did you speak with Artie today?”
“No. The last time we spoke was Thursday night. He called to tell me about his ‘surprise’.”
“And things were cordial between the two of you?”
“Well, yes. He was bringing me a present for heaven’s sake.”
“You said a surprise. Not a present. Some surprises can be nasty.”
She clenched her back teeth, biting back an expletive. “Trust me, Chief. I’ve had my fill of nasty surprises.”
He scribbled something in his notebook then looked up at her again. “You say you touched the body to see if there was a pulse. Did you do anything else while you were in the kitchen?”
“No. And before you ask, no, I didn’t move the body, either.”
“You understand, Ms. Gooden, I have to ask.”
She frowned. This was shades of the past September, all over again. Where were you when your parents were killed? Why did you go there after the theater instead of going home? Why didn’t your parents go with you? Is there anyone that can vouch for your actions that evening? “Is there anything else, Chief?”
“Are you aware of anyone else who might have seen you this morning? Anyone who could vouch for the time you arrived here?”
“No. Does this mean I’m a suspect?”
He gave her a placating smile, but there was nothing but cop behind his eyes. “Everyone is a suspect at the moment, Ms. Gooden. Including Laura, there.” He
stood, pocketed his notebook and with a final click, the pen as well. “Laura, would you run Ms. Gooden over to see Doc Klein up at the Canfield so she can get that finger stitched up? Do you have time?”
Laura nodded. “Sure, Bill. No problem.”
“Great. I figure I’ll be back at the office by about two, barring a long line at the Crock Pot at lunch. Why don’t we agree to meet there then, Ms. Gooden, and we’ll get those fingerprints from you?” He turned as if to head back to the kitchen then turned back again, Columbo-style. “By the way, Ms. Gooden, do we have your permission to search your vehicle?”
There it was again. The not-so-subtle whiff of accusation. “Why? Do you think I’d be so stupid as to leave the syrup and the bag of feathers in the trunk?”
“Just trying to rule you out as a suspect, Ms. Gooden. It’s standard procedure.”
She took in another slow breath. She intended to make a life here. It wouldn’t do to go pissing off the authorities on her first day in town. Even if he was acting like a jerk. “Sure. I’ve got nothing to hide.” She pulled her keys out of her jeans pocket and tossed them to him.
He caught them handily. “Thanks. I’ll make sure the boys take care. Laura, thanks. See you later.” Now he turned and quickly disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Ellie and Laura both staring after.
Laura touched her arm, gave a nervous laugh. “I’m sure he doesn’t really suspect you. It’s just what he has to do.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I don’t need to see a doctor. I’ll just head up to the inn. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do with your Sunday.”
“If Bill says you need stitches, then you need stitches. Look, you’ve got blood running down your arm and that towel is soaked. And it’s no problem. The tourists are rather scarce this weekend. I’m more than happy to take you up to the hospital.”
A rebuttal on her lips, she stopped when she saw blood staining the towel over her bandaged digit. “Good Goddess. Can this day get any worse?” Then, “Fine. Hospital first, then I’ll go to the Inn.”
Laura’s tone was conciliatory. “I’ll drive you up there. It’ll be close to lunch time then, maybe we can order a bottle of wine – Arabella makes the most fabulous lunches and does great pairings, and frankly I could use a drink. Terri told me you were a vegetarian. I am too. So are Arabella and Seth, so of course they have a terrific vegetarian menu at the Inn. But you’ve been staying there, you probably know that. Good heavens, I’m chattering, aren’t I?”
Ellie tried to make nice-nice noises. “To tell you the truth, I’m not big on lunch – but I would love a bottle of wine. Maybe even two, given the way this day is going.” She gave Laura a smile. The woman was trying to make this better, and they were going to be neighbors. There was no point in Ellie taking out her anger and frustration on the woman. With a sigh she said, “Fine. Let’s go, get this over with.”
Chapter 4
As they pulled up to a small, L-shaped, single story building on the far end of town, Laura parked and gestured at the brick structure. “Welcome to the Canfield Hospital. It’s not much, basically an urgent care clinic with a few beds for people to stay overnight, and those are mostly used for couples giving birth. But we have an excellent doctor now. Took us a while to find a replacement after our old doctor retired. But Doctor Klein is good people even if he isn’t from around here.” She hurried around to Ellie’s side of the car to help Ellie out, gesturing animatedly with her hands. “But don’t expect a hunk. He’s a great guy, but other than his cred as a doctor, he’s no catch.” She grinned and Ellie worked at not rolling her eyes. Dating a doctor was the last thing on her mind.
The core of the building was older, but the base of the “L” was newer construction and the parking lot had been recently paved, the spots outlined in bright orangey-yellow.
Laura hustled her through a double set of sliding glass doors into a reception area. A circular desk sat front and center, with waiting areas on either side. But the desk was empty.
Ellie figured this was the break she needed. “Looks like there’s no one here. I’ll just grab some heavy duty bandages at the drug store on my way to the inn.”
Laura raised her eyebrows. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re dripping on the floor.” She shook her head at Ellie and went around the desk to a set of double doors marked “Authorized Personnel Only” and pushed the large round button on the wall that activated the doors. “Come on. Pat’s probably back here.”
Ellie sighed, but followed. Was she feeling woozy from blood loss or just the stress of the day? Either way she thought she probably needed to find a place to sit down. She’d already been seen crying in public. Passing out on her first day in town would be the ultimate humiliation.
There were a handful of examination rooms, curtained off from one another in the next area, with a small nurse’s station in the middle. Only one was occupied, the curtains drawn, and Ellie could hear the soft lilt of a young child’s voice from the other side. Still no sign of a nurse or doctor, and none of the usual ER hustle and bustle Ellie expected from a medical facility.
Laura guided her towards the little curtained cubicle next to the occupied one. “You’re starting to look a little wonky. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll go find Pat?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Ellie sat gratefully on one of the hard, yellow plastic chairs, braced her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. Blood still dripped from her bandaged finger, but it appeared to be slowing. She fought the urge to find some paper towels and clean up the mess.
She closed her eyes thinking that might help, but she kept seeing Artie’s body, tied to the chair, covered in syrup and feathers, with that giant knife sticking out of his chest. So instead, she occupied herself reading the poster across the way explaining the difference between the symptoms of the common cold and influenza, until she heard the distant click of a door and the muffled sound of nurse’s shoes covered by surgical booties.
Laura bounced in, still vibrating energy, followed by a woman in her mid-fifties, pulling off a surgical cap and tossing it in the bio-waste bin, before donning a new pair of gloves. “Oh, I’m so sorry, honey. It has been a crazy day, and it’s not even noon.” She quickly pulled on a pair of gloves. “Okay, now, up you go, on the table, and let’s take a look at this finger.”
Ellie did as she was told, wincing as the woman gently removed the soaked towel and bandage. “I’m Ellie Gooden.”
The woman paused in her examination and met Ellie’s gaze. “Well, of course you are. And I’m Pat Turner. Oh, yes. Two or three stitches here, although I’ll let Doctor make that call official and see if he thinks there’s any tendon involvement. Meantime, let’s get something round it to stop the bleeding. Good thing it’s your left hand. I imagine you’ll be busy getting your shop open.”
Ellie gave a thin smile. Thank the Goddess for small favors, she thought.
Pat fussed over the finger for a moment. “Doctor had two deliveries this morning and one was a C-section. Then young Cullen Mencken came in with an asthma attack and Jack Birnley ‘tripped’ and fell out of his truck and cut his dang fool drunken head open. And of course,” and here Pat looked over at Laura, who was shifting nervously from foot to foot. Did the woman ever stand still? “Colleen is off today, with another ‘head cold’, so it’s just Doctor and me because BillyJean had scheduled the day off and already left for Ripon for the weekend to visit her fiancé when the shit hit the fan.” She chuckled. “I think this is the first time I’ve taken a breath since 3:30 this morning.”
Laura sat down in the chair Ellie had vacated. “You guys need more help here, Pat.”
Pat shook her head. “I wish. But with the budget cuts, and Doc Freeman retiring last year… well, you know what it’s like, your mother being a nurse.”
Laura nodded. “I know. I hear about it every time I have dinner over there.”
Pat looked again at Ellie. “Sorry, that’s probably more t
han you needed to know.” She finished with a small pressure bandage then raised Ellie’s left hand above her head. “Okay, now you sit tight for just five minutes. Keep your hand elevated above your heart and if you feel faint, just lie back. Laura, make sure she keeps her hand up. I’m going to go finish up with our new mothers and I’ll send Doctor along as soon as he’s cleaned up. Okay?”
Without waiting for answer, Nurse Pat bustled off again.
Ellie leaned back and tried to wait patiently. Fortunately, the wait wasn’t very long. Five minutes later, a slightly overweight, fifty-something man brisked in. Though his eyes looked tired, he was smiling. He stuck out a hand. “Ms. Gooden. So good to finally meet you.”
Him too? Good Lord and Lady. She shook his hand, since it would have been rude not to. “Nice to meet you too, Doctor…”
“Klein. Bart Klein.” He scrubbed his hands at the sink, gloved up, then sat down on the rolly stool and wheeled over to her. Taking her injured hand in his, he removed the bandage the nurse had just applied and muttered to himself. “Ah, yes, not too bad. Clean cut. Couple of stitches and you’ll be good as new.”
A shot of something to numb her hand, half an hour and three stitches later, she was back in Laura’s car, headed towards the Inn. She wasn’t the napping type, but the thought of a lovely soft bed was sounding better by the minute. Maybe she’d just indulge this once, before she had to meet Gruetzmacher at the police station.
Chapter 5
The Birches Bed and Breakfast was a short, ten-minute drive from the heart of town, at least in good weather. It stood on the top of a high hill overlooking the town, and Ellie could only imagine how hard it would be in the middle of winter, when snow would pack the long, winding driveway.
Her luggage was still in her VW, and she hadn’t bothered to ask the Chief if she could have it – he would have wanted to search it on the spot and she was out of patience with the whole process.
