by Nan Sampson
Marg caught sight of Ellie and muttered, “Oh shit.” Ellie stood speechless, gaping at the couple.
Bill Grueztmacher took a quick step back and swallowed before clearing his throat. “Uh… um...Good morning, Ellie.”
Ellie choked back a giggle. “Good morning to you, Bill. Marg. I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ll just go… prep the espresso machines.”
She fled the kitchen, a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.
It was several minutes later that Ellie heard the back door open and close. Marg came into the front of the shop from the back hallway looking like a kid who’d been with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’m really sorry about that.”
Ellie grinned at her. “Why? Is he that bad a kisser?”
Marg snapped a dish towel at her. “Ellie! No, I meant I’m sorry—“
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I came in early. Who you kiss on your own time is no business of mine.” She gave her baker a sly look. “But tell me. What’s it like kissing a man with a mustache like that?”
“You’re impossible. Here I am, trying to apologize.” She relaxed then, realizing she wasn’t in trouble. “As a matter of fact, he’s a great kisser.”
Ellie sat down on her stool. “Wow. I never saw that coming. I didn’t even know you two were… well, friends. I was thinking it was Harvey Briggs that you were getting involved with.”
“Harvey? Oh, good Lord, we haven’t been anything but friends since 1985. As for Bill and I, we weren’t anything really, until last night.” She went around the counter and took a seat on one of the stools. “See, the other night, I went out to Patti and Earl’s to drop off some casseroles that Bella had made. Bill – Chief Gruetzmacher – was out there talking to them about Josh. Earl is trying to find an attorney he can afford, and Bill – I mean, Chief Gruetzmacher—“
“Just call him Bill, Marg, it’s okay.”
She grinned. “Okay. Anyway, Bill was giving them some ideas. Anyway, after I dropped off my casseroles, Bill and I left together and naturally my stupid old car wouldn’t start.”
“How convenient.”
“I swear. It really wouldn’t. Bill was kind enough to check under the hood for me, but even he couldn’t make it work. So he offered to drive me home.”
“Whereupon you fell swooning into each other’s arms?”
Marg blushed to the roots of her strawberry blonde hair. “No. I’m not that sort of girl. But I did insist he stay for dinner, by way of thank you.”
“And did he? Stay for dinner? And maybe dessert?”
“Ellie Gooden, you have a filthy mind. He did not. But he told me he’d take a raincheck, which he called in last night.” Her smile faded a little. “He was pretty stressed out last night, which you can imagine. I think he just needed some company to take his mind off things. You can’t imagine the pressure he’s under.”
“Oh, I think I can.” Trying to imagine Marg and Gruetzmacher together was a little unsettling. “So… you went to dinner?”
“At The Birches. It was so bizarre having Chloe serve me! We had the dining room virtually to ourselves – that Sierra Thorsen hardly ever leaves her room these days and Matt Pace apparently takes all his meals at the Crock Pot. The only other person there last night was Jon-Peter and Camille, celebrating their anniversary, so Bill invited them to join us for after dinner drinks.”
Ellie stifled a groan. Marg and liquor did not mix. “Don’t tell me you got toasted.”
“Well, maybe just a little.” She giggled. “But it was okay. I didn’t do anything I might have regretted.”
“So, after dinner?”
“He dropped me off at my place.”
“And…”
“And nothing. We talked for a long time about a whole bunch of things, then, like the gentleman he is, he went home.”
“But—“
“You see, you do have a dirty mind. I told him to stop by this morning and I’d make him a cup of coffee. It’s the weekend, I knew I’d want to be baking early. I didn’t think you’d be here before around six, so I thought…”
“That was very sweet of you. Don’t worry, you can have him ‘in’ for coffee any time you like.” She chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. “Did he let anything slip about the case?”
Marg sighed, shook her head. “Sorry. We stayed away from ‘business’.”
“Damn. Oh, hang on, you said he was recommending attorneys – did Patti and Earl find one?”
“I don’t think so. They’re all so expensive.”
“Patti and Earl sure don’t have a lot of cash to spare at the moment. Damn.” Maybe Charlie would have an idea. “Did Bill say anything about how Josh is doing?”
“The only thing he would say is that Josh was as comfortable as they could make him, and that justice would be served.”
“Oh, that’s bloody encouraging.”
“He’s doing the best he can, Ellie.”
She hoped so, for all their sakes. “Okay. Enough about your titillating love life. Let’s get the day started before Harvey Briggs shows up.”
Marg saluted. “Roger that.” She returned to the kitchen, humming under her breath. Ellie thought it might have been Donna Summer’s Last Dance. Laughing, she went back to getting fresh pots of coffee brewed before the morning crowds showed up.
“So what you’re saying,” Ellie mumbled around a mouthful of grapes, “is that there were two different types of blood on the shovel? That doesn’t make any sense. I mean, it’s not like the killer can accidentally leave his own blood on it.”
She was laying on the orange shag carpeting that covered the floor in the back of her VW van, with her head in Charlie’s lap, while he fed her grapes. The heater was on full blast and the brie was oozing into a puddle on the plate next to the French bread.
“It makes sense if Link hit the killer with the shovel first.”
“Then why isn’t the killer the one that’s dead?”
“Maybe Link was a bad aim.”
“There’s also no one walking around town with a great big bandage around his head from where he got clobbered by the shovel.”
“Well, I don’t know then. But that’s what the coroner found.”
Ellie spent a moment chewing grapes and trying to figure out how the shovel could have two different person’s blood on it. When the answer came, it was so simple and so obvious, she was amazed no one else had thought of it.
She sat up, bonking her head against Charlie’s chin. “We’re idiots!” Which she then tempered with, “How did Margaret Roesch die?”
Charlie shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Well, I know how. She was hit over the head with a shovel, Charlie. The other blood sample is hers.”
Charlie stared at her as though she’d grown another head. “That can’t…” His voice trailed off, and Ellie could see the wheels turning. “Hang on. I still don’t see how these cases can be related. Link and Margaret Roesch didn’t know each other, and as far as I know, they didn’t know any people in common.”
Ellie couldn’t suppress a grin. “Oh, but they did. Both of them knew Alphie Mueller. Roesch had just bought the Mueller property from Link. Or at least was in the process of buying it. Remember at dinner?”
“Okay, but, remember also what Link said. Killing Margaret would not get Alphie her father’s land back. Link said he didn’t need anything from Alphie, but that it was a done deal. So why would Alphie kill Margaret?”
“Because she was an odious woman who probably rubbed it in her face? I don’t know. I’m just telling you that I’d bet my shop on that second sample belonging to Roesch.”
Charlie was still shaking his head. “It couldn’t have been Alphie. Look at her. I don’t think she could even lift that shovel, much less lift it high enough and bring it down hard enough to crack open Link Fairweather’s skull - and not once, but five times.”
“Five times? Link was hit five times?” She shuddered. Someone had really wanted that man dead.<
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“That’s what the report said.”
“So you think Alphie is too weak to have done it.”
“Well, can you see her swinging that shovel around?”
“Ordinarily, no. But in a fit of anger? With all her adrenaline pumping…”
“Not even then.”
Ellie wasn’t ready to give up her pet theory. “It’s the only solution that fits the facts. There were no other connections between Link and Margaret.”
“You’re assuming that you’re right about the blood. We won’t know that for days, if not weeks. What if Margaret was shot, or strangled? Where’s your theory then?”
She slapped his hand away as he tried to slide it up under her sweater. “Stop that. You’re distracting me. Seems to me the only way to solve this is for you to find out what the coroner—Stop it! – has to say about cause of death for Margaret’s.” To her chagrin, or maybe not, he’d changed his plan of attack on her, and was now exploring other places with his hands. She let out a little moan, then tried to push him away. “Charlie, if she really was buried by a pile of snow, and was only found because it melted, then—“
“Shut up, Ellie.” He eased her down onto the shag carpeting again, and unzipped her jeans. “I’ll find a way to get the coroner’s report on Margaret. I promise.”
She had to giggle. She felt like she was in high school again, making out in the back seat of Roger Dean’s Oldsmobile. “You’re just saying that to get into my pants.”
Charlie’s chuckle came from deep in his throat. “But I’ll still respect you in the morning.”
Ellie gave up – at least for the moment. But she promised herself that she’d make Charlie keep his word. One way or another she’d get her hands on Margaret Roesch’s autopsy report and prove to Charlie that she was right. Even if she had to break into Bill Grueztmacher’s office to do it.
The afternoon slowed to its usual crawl and Ellie cleared it with Marg so that she could sneak out for an hour and head up to Patti and Earl’s. The farm was pretty quiet when she got there – typically there were at least a couple of the Mough grandkids running around, helping out with chores and burning off kid energy with the dogs and the cats.
Ellie went round to the back door and rapped on the window pane in the top of the door, peering in through the sheer curtain. There was a man sitting at the kitchen table, his back to her, and Patti was standing, leaning against the sink, a coffee cup in her hand. She looked up sharply as Ellie knocked, then came over slowly to open the door.
“Hi, Ellie. Come on in. What brings you out here in the middle of a work day?”
Ellie glanced past her, at the man seated at the kitchen table. “I just came by to see how you were.” She held up a sack of muffins she’d brought from the shop. “I brought these, thought you and Earl might like them.”
“Why, thank you. Gosh, people have been bringing things by for days. I feel like someone’s died.”
The man at the table stood and turned around. “Ellie. We seem to keep running into each other today.” Gruetzmacher grinned sheepishly.
“Kind of how it works in a small town, I guess. We all travel in the same circles.”
Patti gestured to an empty chair at the large kitchen table. “Please, sit a moment. Would you like some tea?”
Ellie shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to stop by, say hey, make sure there wasn’t anything you – or Josh – needed.”
That clearly struck a nerve. Patti teared up, then turned away for a moment.
Gruetzmacher filled the silence. “Josh is fine – or as fine as a man can be in that situation.”
Why wasn’t that very comforting? “How is the case coming?”
“Now, Ellie, you know I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation.”
Ongoing? Was he just handing her a line, or was he feeding her information? “So I suppose that you can’t talk about the murder of Margaret Roesch either?”
“You are correct.”
“Do you at least know how she was killed yet?”
He shook his head. “As soon as we’re able to release that information to the press, you’ll hear about it.” A frown marred his even, weather-tanned features. “And hear about it, and hear about it and hear about it.”
Patti had composed herself and took a seat at the table as well. “Isn’t that the truth. Oh, Ellie, I almost forgot. Alphie Mueller called here today, wanting to know how she could get in touch with you. I told her you didn’t have a regular phone, but gave her your cell phone number. I hope that was all right.”
What on earth did Alphie Mueller want? “That’s fine, Patti. Did she say what she wanted?”
“Well, she called me about the church spring fundraiser. We’re going to have a White Elephant Sale this year. I’m guessing she was looking for donations. Either that or she wants you to contribute coffee and cookies.”
Ellie was happy to contribute – just as long as Alphie didn’t expect her to attend services. The fact that she was of a non-traditional faith was fairly widely known – but what that non-traditional faith was, was really only known by her closest friends in town. People she knew wouldn’t judge her – or who had pagan leanings as well. Ellie wasn’t sure what Alphie Mueller would make of her being Wiccan. Probably burn a cross on her lawn.
“I’m happy to make a donation from the store. I could probably even find something for the white elephant sale.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that.” Patti lapsed into silence.
Not knowing what else to say, and feeling inhibited by Gruetzmacher’s presence, Ellie made polite conversation for a few moments and then bed them farewell. She had one more errand to run before heading back to the shop, and she’d just as soon get through with it before Gruetzmacher decided to return to the office.
The Police Station was located in the center of town, in a turn of the century Federal style building. Outside was the ubiquitous flag pole with both the US and Wisconsin state flag, surround by a circular garden that she knew several ladies in town volunteered to maintain. The Garden Committee in Horizon was as alive and well as it had been in the 1950s, and the annual Flower Garden competition was as fierce as she suspected it was in certain parts of England.
Despite the vintage feel to the outside, the inside had a new and thoroughly modern fell. She walked in and approached the reception desk, a long, sleek counter behind which sat a young woman in a crisp, blue uniform, her long hair pulled back into a tidy bun.
Officer Brenda Klein – Sergeant Sam Klein’s sister -- sat typing something into a computer. She looked up and smiled pleasantly at Ellie.
“Still on desk duty, eh Brenda?”
The twenty-something girl sighed. “Yeah. The Chief says I need more seasoning.” Her fingers continued to click on the keyboard even as she met Ellie’s gaze.
“He’s probably afraid you’re after his job.”
Brenda laughed good-naturedly. “Got that right! First female Police Chief in the county – that’ll be me someday!”
“Then you can give orders to Sam.”
“I know, right? Payback for all those years he pulled the ‘big brother’ card.” Her fingers finally stilled. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping I could have a word with Officer McKenna. Is she around?”
“She’s on patrol at the moment.” Was there a tiny bit of jealousy in her voice? KcKenna was newer to the department than Brenda, but she’d served a year or two more on the force in Milwaukee so it made sense that she’d be patrolling where Brenda wouldn’t yet. “I can leave a message for her if you like. But I do have to warn you, Ellie, she won’t be able to discuss any details of the Roesch case – if that’s what you’re after.”
Ellie sighed. Gruetzmacher trained his people well. “Of course. I should have known that.”
Brenda winked at her. “Still, it was worth a try, right?”
Ellie had to laugh, having been caught out. “Yeah.”
Behind Bre
nda, the phone rang. “Oops. Gotta get back to work. See you around!”
Frustrated, Ellie let the girl get back to her job, hoping she could catch McKenna in town at some point, and see if she could get something from her then.
The coat thing still nagged at her, however, so she called Arabella from the car, on her way back to the shop.
“You want to know about what, Ellie?”
“About the clothes Margaret Roesch left outside her room. What happened to them?”
“I had to give in. Well, I had to, didn’t I? I have other guests – I couldn’t just let them sit, all smelly and dirty, in the public hallway, could I? So I washed them and put them back in her room. Well, except for the coat which I had to have dry cleaned. I couldn’t quite get the stains out of the jeans.”
“Stains? There were stains?”
“Yes. All over the shirt and the jeans. If didn’t know better, I’d have sworn it was blood.”
Chapter Fourteen
While Ellie stared, Arabella continued unfazed. “I have no idea what she’d gotten herself into, but it left dark splotches all over. There were some on that coat too, but the coat is so dark, you can hardly tell, and I think Marion managed to work her magic on it.” Bella sighed. “I don’t suppose it matters now, does it? It’s not like she’ll be hollering at me about it.”
Ellie’s heart skipped a beat. “Bella, I know this is going to sound gruesome, but could I have the shirt, jeans and the coat? I think they may be important.”
“Well, I don’t see how. But if they are, then shouldn’t I give them to the police?”
Damn. She hated when people were right. “You’re right. Look, Charlie and I can come pick them up later and then he can take them over to Bill after he examines them.”
She could actually hear Bella shrug. “S’fine with me. I don’t think anyone’s going to come looking for her stuff. I figured I’d just pack it all up for Goodwill.”
“Let Charlie go through it all before you do, okay?”
“Sure. The police have already been through her things, though. I would think that if there’s anything to be found, they would have found it.”
