Murder, Mayhem and Bliss

by Loulou Harrington

  “There he is,” Frank said with a sweep of his hand.

  And there he was. Dark hair obviously trimmed and neat. White collar and cuffs peeping out at the edges of his suit coat. Joe couldn’t see the tie, but he knew it was there. The suit itself looked gray maybe, possibly pinstriped, definitely tailored. One of his shoes had come off and floated close enough to see that it was a loafer, almost certainly leather, with a tassel. Nice, new, expensive, maybe even Italian.

  No vagrant here. No sirree, not this guy. No such luck. “Well, hell,” Joe said with feeling. “Hell and damnation!”

  ∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙

  “Wow!” SueAnn Bailey bounced into the kitchen of the Gilded Lily Tea Room and Coffee House with the enthusiasm of the young and heedless. “You will not believe!”

  “You’re almost two hours late,” Lindsey interrupted, unimpressed by whatever it was she wasn’t supposed to believe.

  “I called,” SueAnn said.

  At Jesse’s loud throat clearing, the girl quickly adjusted her attitude. “Okay, you’re right. That doesn’t get the job done. I’m sorry. I spent the night over in Culverton, and I set the alarm on my phone, but I forgot to take it out of my purse, and it was in the other room, and I didn’t hear it,” she finished in a rush. “And you will not believe!” she said again, her enthusiasm back.

  “What won’t we believe, dear?” Sophia asked kindly. For a nineteen-year-old with a boyfriend in a neighboring town, the girl was usually very reliable. She was also cheerful, a very good waitress, and popular with the customers, which took a big load off of everybody else, and for which Sophia, at least, was very thankful.

  “There are cop cars all over the front lawn of the Kerr place. I had to drive right by it on my way here, and it was all I could do not to stop and go investigate.”

  “For which we are grateful,” Lindsey said.

  SueAnn ignored her. “Something huge has happened.” She ended with a flourish of her arms. “Huge!”

  “Kerr.” Sophia repeated the name thoughtfully, then turned to Jesse. “Isn’t that Vivian’s niece and her bombastic car salesman husband?”

  “They do have a place just outside of Culverton,” Jesse agreed slowly, while conjuring up what memories she had on the subject. “I’ve been there with Vivian. And their name is Kerr. But his family’s from there, so he can’t be the only Kerr in the area.”

  “Oh, it’s them all right,” SueAnn said. “He’s the only Kerr who lives in a house like that. And I’ve seen her outside working in the yard. With that blond hair and that body, you can’t miss her.”

  Determined not to worry unnecessarily, Jesse extended her order pad to the cute, redheaded gossip. “Oh, well, whatever it is, I hope it’s nothing too bad. And I’m sure we’ll hear all about it later. In the meantime, I know there are diners waiting to be rescued from my ineptitude by your arrival.”

  “You flatter me.” SueAnn took the pad and grabbed a pen from the stash in her purse.

  “No, really.” Jesse poured herself a cup of the excellent coffee that helped make the Lily’s reputation. “I suck. You don’t.”

  “Oh, wow, you guys! I forgot.” SueAnn paused for drama, then got to the real point to her story, which had slipped her mind when she had to sidetrack to defend her lateness. “The medical examiner’s van was there! That’s why I said it was huge.”

  Sophia’s plump hand went to her plumper breast and her breath caught in a gasp. Lindsey paused in the middle of adding a fresh fruit garnish to an omelet and muffin plate. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, caught somewhere between awe and dread.

  “Well, hell.” Jesse sagged against the prep counter and set her coffee down with a limp hand. “There’s just no way that’s good.”

  Chapter Two

  “Don’t yell at me,” Bliss snapped back at her aunt. Then her voice dropped to a lost-sounding whisper, and she buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know.”

  Vivian took a deep breath to calm herself. Bliss had always been too sweet, too gentle, and too forgiving. It was part of her charm, but it left her so vulnerable. For brief moments this morning, she had displayed more grit than Vivian could ever remember seeing in her. Maybe the almost twenty years with Harold Kerr was finally getting to her.

  “Bliss,” Vivian began in as tempered an approach as she could manage. “What is this about, really? I mean, on Harold’s part, this…” She searched for words, picking her way through the emotional minefield that threatened to overwhelm them both. “…this, uh, behavior is really nothing new.”

  She paused again, reaching for what, in her own heart was worrying her. “So, I’m going to ask again—what brought you here? Today? Now?”

  “He’s not at work,” Bliss said, repeating what she had said earlier. “Maria, his assistant, is supposed to call me when he comes in.” She pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket and held it up to make the point. “But she hasn’t called.”

  “Maybe she forgot?” Vivian suggested while trying to remember what day of the week it was. Her social calendar wasn’t as full as it used to be, and in the years since Malcolm had died, it seemed that time didn’t have the same definition it used to have. When he was around, the days had so much more purpose to them. Now, life just wasn’t as lively.

  “No.” Bliss rejected the idea with a shake of her head. “Maria seemed as worried as I am.” Then she paused and shrugged. “Maybe that’s what bothers me so much. I’m not the only one who thinks this is really strange.”

  “Maybe you should try his cell phone again.”

  “I’ve called it a dozen times at least this morning.” Bliss took a deep, shaky breath and squared her shoulders. “Okay, I guess one more time wouldn’t hurt. But I’m not going to leave a message.”

  After the fourth ring, the call went to voice mail one more time. She threw back her head and growled, then punched the button to end the connection, pushing it again and again until Vivian reached over and took the phone out of her hand.

  “Cheer up.” Vivian leaned forward and tossed the cell phone onto the sofa several feet away. “Maybe somebody’s done you a favor and gotten rid of the man.”

  “Oh, God, Aunt Viv, don’t say that! Not even joking.” Bliss jumped to her feet and stormed out of the living room and halfway across the foyer before she stopped just as suddenly. Her arms stiff at her sides, she looked frantically around her, threw back her head and wailed, “I’m going to go out of my mind if something doesn’t happen soon.”

  “I didn’t actually intend that as a joke,” Vivian said half to herself. If something didn’t happen soon, one of them was going to go out of her mind, and she wasn’t so sure it would be Bliss. Then an idea occurred to her. “I have some tranquilizers upstairs. Would you like one? Maybe just a half of one.”

  Bliss looked nonplussed for an instant, then in a response that surprised them both, she started laughing. “Oh gosh, Aunt Viv, you’re such a gem. From the look on your face, I think you’d just shoot me with one of those tranquilizer darts and get it over with if you had a choice.”

  The appraisal was so on target that, for a moment, Vivian felt almost embarrassed. But that didn’t last long. With a smile and a shrug, she said, “Take a pill or get drunk, hon. That’s all I can suggest. And if it will make you feel any better, I’ll join you.”

  Still laughing, Bliss threw up her hands. “What the heck. I knew I came to you for a reason. It just took us a little while to figure out what it was.”

  ∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙

  Arnie Holt stood in hip waders waist deep in the swimming pool, which was luckily heated, since the October morning had a bit of a nip to it. “Really,” he said in disgust. “You guys could not pull this man out and turn him over?”

  Frank shook his head while Sheriff Tyler ignored the indignant medical examiner and tried to locate the source of the ringing phone. Probably a cell phone. Probably in the bushes
someplace around the edge of the pool. But why would the man have taken the cell phone out of his pocket and then jumped into the pool still wearing his suit jacket and dress shoes?

  “Didn’t want to disturb the scene before you got here,” Frank explained again. “Just in case a crime has been committed.”

  “Do you see any sign of a crime?” Arnie demanded, taking the body by the ankle and dragging it toward the shallow end of the swimming pool.

  “Dead man floating in a pool,” Frank insisted doggedly. “Could be a drunk who tripped. Could be a heart attack victim. Could be murder. That’s for you to say.”

  The phone stopped ringing and Joe made a mental note of the general area the sound seemed to be coming from. Then he turned back to concentrate on the identity of the deceased about to exit the pool.

  Frank and Todd took off their shoes and rolled up their pants to step down into the water and assist with lifting the body. A tarp was spread on the apron next to the tile-inlaid stairs leading out of the pool. A gurney waited a short distance away. Working in practiced concert, the three men lifted the body out and turned it over as they placed it on the tarp.

  “Ah, hell no,” Arnie said as he looked down at the bloated face of the dead man.

  “Wait.” Joe held up a hand before Arnie could say anything else. “Don’t tell me, please. Let me guess.” From the twisting in his gut and the TV ads he hadn’t been able to avoid, he knew that his day was now circling the toilet drain for real. “This is Harry Kerr, right? Owner of… no, pardon me… late owner of Kerr’s Lake Country Autos?”

  “Plus an RV lot, a boat lot, and a bunch of used car lots. If it’s got a motor and four tires, he probably sells it. ‘Scuse me, sold it,” Todd confirmed with a nod.

  “Everything I did not want,” Joe said. “Even if this is an accident, it’s still going to be one hell of a crap fest.”

  “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” Arnie agreed sadly. “Unless, of course, you already know who his wife is.”

  “Oh, oh,” Frank said, slapping wide palms flat against the side of his head. “I had forgotten that.”

  Joe looked back at the house and revisited the sense of dread he had experienced in varying degrees since arriving that morning. “What?”

  He turned back to the three men who stood just off the tarp at the head and feet of the dead man. The three exchanged glances, then turned to him. Then all three looked away again, staring off in different directions.

  “What?” Joe demanded impatiently. “Who’s his wife?”

  “Bliss Kerr,” Todd said.

  “Bliss Windsor Kerr,” Frank added. “Key word being Windsor.”

  “Great niece of Malcolm and Vivian,” Arnie elaborated for anyone who had recently moved into the county from out of state. “The only family Vivian has left, and she is reputed to consider her the daughter she never had.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s exactly what I needed.” Joe took a deep breath and rubbed a hand roughly across the back of his neck, which was beginning to feel like someone had applied a vise clamp to it. He really needed to start listening to gossip more often so he’d know some of this ahead of time, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “Okay, so, you guys…” He suppressed the sigh he wouldn’t allow himself and pointed to Frank, then Todd. “…help Arnie get this body into the van. Then you get back over here and comb the area for anything we might have missed. Seal off everything with tape from the front of the house, down the sides of the yard, and around the back of this pool area.”

  “Arnie.” He turned to the medical examiner. “You get this guy on your table and find out what the hell killed him before you sleep again. And if you could…” He looked up into the clear blue heavens. “…please, God, make it a heart attack. That would be so nice.”

  “Amen,” somebody mumbled.

  “And now, if you would excuse me, there’s a phone here someplace that I’ve got to find.” Joe turned on his heel, stopped, and pivoted back. “No.” He pointed to Frank, then to the area of bushes where he had heard the ringing. “You find the phone. I’ve got to find Bliss Kerr. The grieving widow will need to be notified immediately, now that we’ve identified the body. She might even know something. Like how he got into the pool, maybe, or when he was last seen alive.”

  “And you.” He swung around to Arnie again. “You let me know the minute you’ve ruled something out. Like if there’s no alcohol in his blood, he hasn’t had a heart attack, or there’s no head trauma that could have resulted in death, accidental or otherwise. And as soon as you know, you let me know.”

  “It’s Saturday,” Arnie protested in not-so-mock horror. “There’s a football game this afternoon. I can do without sleep, but I can’t do without football.”

  “So turn on the radio, or, hell, get a TV in your autopsy room. I don’t care. You just better be wrist deep in this man while you’re watching.”

  At the arbor entrance to the pool, Joe paused in his rush to leave and turned his attention back to Frank, who, with Todd, was already poking through the bushes in the area where the cell phone should have been. “One more thing. I’ll be sending Marla out with a camera, to take some pictures of the scene.”

  Frank stopped and raised his head from the shrubbery. “What scene? This place looks like it’s ready for a magazine shoot.”

  Joe forced himself to take a deep breath and count to three. That was all the patience he had. “Things like a cell phone in the bushes, Frank. I want a picture of it before you take it out. I want it bagged and tagged for fingerprints. I want everything in this area photographed.”

  He swung his index finger in a circle for emphasis. “Somewhere here, there’s some indication of what happened. Maybe the camera will see something we can’t.”

  Frank straightened, suddenly as focused as a bird dog on point. “I gotcha. Backup documentation on everything. Cause we can’t afford to miss or misread anything.”

  Joe nodded, pleased with the other man’s understanding. “I believe you do have it.” With a parting wave over his shoulder, he exited through the arbor, calling as he went, “Because from what you guys just told me, that body belongs to the next best thing to Vivian Windsor’s son-in-law. And if that old harridan decides to sink her teeth into us, we’re all going to be needing rabies shots.”

  ∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙

  Vivian carried a cold bottle of champagne, freshly uncorked. Bliss followed in her wake, balancing a tray loaded with two champagne flutes, side plates, and a platter of cheese, nuts, and chocolate truffles. They had searched the refrigerator for strawberries Vivian was sure should be in there, but had finally given up and continued without them.

  Through the library, the sunroom, and out into the side garden they went, to where the bright Oklahoma sun was rapidly climbing high in a cloudless sky, and the early morning chill rapidly waned. But ancient trees kept the garden shaded, and a steady breeze chased away any heat that tried to accumulate. Vivian drew in a deep, satisfied breath and took her usual seat on a padded, wrought-iron chaise that was as well worn and durable as the stone pavers beneath it.

  Bliss set her tray on a small side table and dropped into a chaise identical to her aunt’s. “Lord, I love this place,” she said, breathing in the scent of the English roses that bloomed nearby. “I tried to replicate it in my garden.” She let her breath out in a sigh and drew in another long, slow lungful of sweet musk and honey. “But some things only come with time.”

  Vivian placed her champagne bottle on the table between them. “Would you do the honors, dear?”

  “Of course.” Bliss flashed a smile, evidence that the half of a low-dosage pill her aunt had supplied was kicking in.

  “Don’t put too much in yours,” Vivian cautioned, then waggled a finger toward the tray that sat handily between them. “And be sure you eat something. I want you relaxed, but if you pass out, you’re just going to have to lay there.”

  “Don’
t worry, Aunt Viv. I promise not to do anything worse than take a nice, long nap in my lounge chair.” Bliss poured the champagne, careful not to squander the bubbles. Handing a flute to her aunt and keeping one for herself, she raised her glass in a toast. “Here’s to an afternoon of champagne and chocolate with my favorite person in the whole world.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Vivian agreed. Crystal chimed softly as the two glasses tapped together. After one decorous swallow, they exchanged glances and drained the rest in a long, unbroken drink.

  “Wow,” Bliss said, pouring them each another round. “That is an excellent vintage, Aunt Viv. Don’t tell me it’s still some of Uncle Malcolm’s stash.”

  “No, that’s all gone now.” Vivian grinned in appreciation over the top of her crystal flute. “But I’ve started a new stash of my own. And I’m very flattered you couldn’t tell it from Malcolm’s.” She picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled at the edge. A faraway look stole into her eyes. “You know, I was just a little know-nothing girl from the country when I met Malcolm. I wouldn’t have been the same person without him.”

  “I think a lot of us could say that about the people we marry.” Bliss lifted her champagne in a mock toast. “It’s just that not all of us can say it as a positive thing.” With a shrug, she drained the glass again. “Damn, that’s good.”

  Vivian started to suggest that she slow down, then gave a mental shrug. Maybe what Bliss needed more than anything was to face the truth. And that was obviously not easy for her. There was a time when Harold Kerr was young and a much nicer person than he had become with age and success. And it was hard for a gentle, generous soul like Bliss to let go of the loyalty she still felt to the boy she had married.

  “Have a chocolate,” Vivian said instead, reaching over to refill the empty flute in her niece’s hand. “The one with the red drizzle on it is raspberry filled. Oh, and that really dark one has a rum-flavored center.” She took one herself and bit in, savoring the burst of orange mingled with the dark chocolate, then followed it with a long drink of champagne.