by Nan Sampson
She ended the call as gracefully as she could then collapsed forward onto the table, groaning. “Oh, God. Now he thinks I’m dating Herb Tarry.”
Millie gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, you poor thing.”
“It’ll be all over town tomorrow afternoon.” Ellie couldn’t suppress a laugh herself. “I wonder how Herb will take it?”
Jon-Peter chugged the rest of his beer. “I think this calls for another round. We should celebrate. First Ellie, who everyone in town thought was… well… not terribly interested in men, and now you, Laura! It must be something in the water.”
Ellie just ignored Jon-Peter, who could be a right ass when he wanted. “So, what did you find out? And by the way, great tactic. I never would have thought of that.”
Millie patted Ellie on the arm. “You’re right about that, dear. You would have just gotten right to the point.” Millie looked at Laura. “So?”
Laura leaned forward, enjoying the attention in a way that made Ellie a little jealous. “Well… Apparently there was only one wound, and that was to the back of the head. So,” she said triumphantly, “she could very well have been whacked by the shovel.”
Ellie gave an enthusiastic whoop. “Yes! I knew it.”
Jon-Peter was not convinced. “So she was hit over the head. Doesn’t mean it was with the same shovel.”
But Laura wasn’t finished. “He also said that I should tell Herb he should send someone over to The Birches to pick out some clothes for the woman – because she wasn’t wearing anything except one shoe when she was found!”
Ellie was jubilant. “I knew it! I knew I was right!”
Laura looked exultant as well. “She was naked. Utterly and completely, far as I can tell. Les said she’d even need ‘private-like’ clothes.”
Ellie shivered. She couldn’t imagine even touching a dead body, much less taking off all its clothes, including the underwear. “What on earth do you suppose it means?”
“I thought you thought it was because the murderer wanted us to think Roesch was still alive?”
She gave Jon-Peter a look. “Yes, and I still do, but why strip her naked? Why not at least leave her underwear on?”
Jon-Peter shrugged. “Maybe he got off on it. Maybe he—”
“Ugh.” Laura held up a hand. “Please, don’t even go there.”
Jon-Peter shrugged. “Well, maybe it was just a simple case of rape and murder.”
It was Millie’s turn to be upset. “No. Not in Horizon. That’s one of the reasons I moved here from Milwaukee. Things like that aren’t supposed to happen here.”
Ellie wasn’t so sure. Bad things happened everywhere, it was just life. Even so, it seemed that a random rape and murder were unlikely. “No, JP, I still think the two crimes have to be related. There must be a reason for removing all her clothes.”
“Well, if the killer is trying to lead us down the garden path,” Sarah put in, “maybe he wanted the cops to think it was just what JP said. If you found a naked dead woman, wouldn’t you think it was some kind of… sex crime?” She said the words as though they might contaminate her.
They thought about that for a moment, while Roger Loritz brought another round of drinks. As he was unloading his tray, he stuck his two cents in, clearly having been listening. “If they thought it was a sex crime, then they would have done a rape kit on her. You should’ve asked Les if there was any semen found.”
Ellie had to admit that Roger had a point. “It doesn’t matter if there was or wasn’t. It still looks like that. And… there are some criminals who don’t actually, you know, do it to the victim. They…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, especially in front of Sarah.
Jon-Peter filled the gap. “Jerk off. Yeah, you’re right. So we’re back to a possible pervert.”
Laura wouldn’t give up. “No. I think Ellie’s right. It was staged. If it was just a pervert, then they would have found her clothes nearby. Not back at The Birches, in a pile outside the door of Margaret’s room.”
Jon-Peter nodded slowly. “Well, that’s true.”
Millie looked at all of them. “So where does that leave us?”
Ellie sighed. “Nowhere.” That was the sad truth. When all was said and done, they were no closer to solving either crime, and as Jon-Peter felt compelled to point out, it wasn’t even their job to solve it. She left that the group that night, having drunk too much beer, and despite the information Laura had gathered, knowing she was as powerless to help Josh get out of jail as she’d been to help prevent her friend Lacey’s death.
She was, as Margaret Roesch had so scathingly reminded her that frosty morning, just the girl who ran the coffee shop.
She was crabby and out of sorts the next morning. She barked at Charlie for not waking her up on time – a task she’d been doing on her own for as long as she could remember. She harped on Marg for being late, and didn’t even bother to ask why. She even ragged on Per for trying to do too much on his own when she arrived at his place and found him limping, after turning his ankle in the barn that morning.
By the time afternoon rolled around, she was sick of her life, the world and everyone in it, most especially herself. Realizing she was behaving like an idiot, she closeted herself in her office and worked to catch up on her accounting for the business until the afternoon rush started. Then, she thought gloomily, she could be rude to a whole new bunch of people.
So engrossed in spreadsheets was she that she only vaguely registered someone entering her office. Assuming it was Marg, dropping something off, or refilling her tea mug, which she often did, Ellie didn’t even look up.
When she felt hands on her shoulders, she nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Easy there. It’s just me.”
She looked up at Charlie, found him grinning at her. She returned his smile with a grimace, but quickly lost her edge as his long, deft fingers kneaded the taut muscles across her shoulders. With a sigh, she found herself relaxing a little. “I feel like I should be paying you for that.”
He bent so that his mouth was close to her ear. “Oh, you will. Trust me.”
That made her laugh a little. “Sorry I was such a bear this morning.”
“You were? I hardly noticed.”
“Liar.”
He chuckled, then sat down in the guest chair. “You want to talk about it?”
“I’m just frustrated. I haven’t been able to do anything to help Josh.”
“I heard about last night.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I also heard that Laura Lincoln is now dating Herb Tarry. I suppose it was his artful mortician ways that swayed her from her previous infatuation with Les Proud?”
Ellie laughed. “Oh, poor Laura. It’s all over town, then?”
“It must be. I heard it from Harvey Briggs.”
“Good Lady and Lord. She’ll have to move!”
He assured her it would blow over, then stretched out his long legs and propped his feet in her lap. She unceremoniously pushed them off, as well as the snow he’d left on her jeans from his wet boots.
Despite her eye roll, his grin didn’t dim. “I also heard – from Laura herself – what Les said. About cause of death.”
“Is it true?”
“I have no idea. Bill is playing this close to the vest. But if it is, I must admit, it does lend a little credence to your theory.” He toyed with the pencils in the little cylindrical holder. “And you were right about the blood. That, at least, Bill did share with me.”
“It was Margaret’s blood?”
Charlie nodded. “The only reason he told me was that someone in the coroner’s department leaked the info to the press, so it’ll be all over the news tonight.”
“But it still doesn’t clear Josh, does it?”
“No. Which brings me to the other thing that Bill told me, although this is in confidence.” He paused, and Ellie knew what he was waiting for.
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“Not even Patti.”
“Not even Patti.” Which made Ellie wonder what exactly she was going to hear next.
“Margaret Roesch died within hours of Link – and his blood was found in her head wound.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ellie pumped her fist into the air. “Yes! See, I told you. The same person killed both of them, using the shovel.”
“That’s what the evidence is saying, yes.”
She thought for a moment about logistics. “The Mueller place is a good twenty minutes from the Mough’s. If Link’s blood was on Margaret’s body, that means that the murderer had to have met Link at the Mough’s north pasture first then driven to the Mueller’s place to finish off Roesch.”
“I agree, although it doesn’t make a lot of sense. I mean, why would any one person want both those people dead?”
“If we could figure that out, we’d know who it was.”
“Other than Josh.”
She felt her mood, which had been starting to rise, immediately deflate. “There’s got to be somebody else. What about Alphie Mueller?”
“I admit, she had the motive, if you really stretch the idea of revenge, but Ellie, I just don’t buy it. She’s a tiny little thing. I don’t think she could have wielded the weapon.”
Ellie still wasn’t so sure the woman couldn’t have done it in a fury. Or maybe she was just reluctant to give up the only other suspect who fit. “Well, if not Alphie, then who?”
Charlie spread his hands. “I think maybe you need to consider the obvious, Ellie.”
“No. Absolutely not. I know Josh. He couldn’t have done this.” Despite her vehemence, even to Ellie’s ears, her voice held doubt. The same doubt everyone else in town would have, when the news came on that night. “Oh Goddess, Charlie, what are Patti and Earl going to do?”
“Bill’s been working to find them an attorney who’ll take on the case pro bono. He’s sorry as hell that they’re having to go through all this.”
“So, what do we do now?”
Charlie didn’t look any happier than she did. “I’m not sure there’s much more we can do. Except give Patti and Earl all the emotional support we can.”
It wasn’t enough. After everything they’d done for Ellie, it just wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I really am.”
He was, she knew. But it didn’t much matter just then. “I…Could you give me a couple hours? I just need to be alone, think this through.”
“Sure. I’ll be waiting for you at home.” He stood, then leaned down and kissed her cheek tenderly. “Take whatever time you need. Just don’t do anything foolish, like trying to break Josh out of jail, okay?”
He was only half-joking, and she gave him a half-hearted smile as he left.
Then she sat back in her chair and sank into a black depression she saw no way of alleviating no matter how much time he gave her.
She closed the shop around six, after sending Marg home. The street outside was dark, most of the other shops had also closed, and the alley behind her shop was black as pitch. She navigated through the inky darkness from memory, unplugged her van from the external outlet she’d had installed last summer, then climbed into the van.
As she did, her cell phone rang. She considered not answering, it was probably just Charlie, wanting to know if he should count on her for dinner.
In the end, though, she answered, starting up the engine and turning the heater up full blast to ward off the chill that had only a little to do with the weather.
A warbly voice that she didn’t recognize came through some static. “Ms. Gooden? Is that you, dear?”
“Yes, this is Ellie.”
“Oh, good. This is Alphonsa Mueller. I was hoping to catch you before you went home to your young man.”
Ellie was surprised. “What can I do for you, Miss Mueller?”
“I was hoping you’d have time to stop by for a chat and a cup of tea. Not today, of course, but perhaps tomorrow?”
“I…I’m not sure. The shop is open tomorrow…”
“Oh, I completely understand. I wouldn’t normally ask, but this is rather important.”
Ellie was sure that the church fund raiser was important – at least to Alphie Mueller. “Miss Mueller, if this is about the White Elephant Sale…”
“Oh my, no, dear. This is about that horrible Roesch woman. You see, I saw her that night. The night she was killed.”
“You what?” Ellie’s heart pounded in her chest. Was this finally a break?
“Now, I don’t want to talk about this over the phone, you never know if someone at the switchboard is listening in. Do you think you could come by tomorrow afternoon?”
Switchboard? She shook her head. There hadn’t been switchboard operators in even backwater horizon for decades. She wanted to press her, to make her talk now, but Alphie seemed to be set in her ways, so it was probably a waste of air. Besides. If Alphie really knew something important, she ought to be telling it to the police, no matter how much Ellie wanted to hear it first. “Miss Mueller, if this really is about the murder, you should probably talk to Bill Gruetzmacher.” She couldn’t believe she’d just said that aloud.
“Oh, no, dear, I couldn’t do that. I don’t trust those people – they never believe anything you say.”
Given what Ellie suspected about the abuse Alphie and her sister had suffered in their youth, she wondered if this prejudice came the hard way. Ellie’s own feelings about the police were mixed at best, although Bill was alright. She’d just have to talk to Bill herself if Alphie really had anything of substance to say. “Would you like me to stop over tonight? I’m just on my way home now. It would be no problem to drive over—”
“No. No, dear, not tonight. I have Church Bingo to run tonight and I need to leave in just a few minutes.” She paused, and Ellie had the impression she was consulting something, like a calendar, which seemed laughable – how busy could the old thing be? “Let’s see,” Alphie said in a moment. “I have another… appointment at noon, so why don’t we plan on two o’clock, would that be alright?”
Ellie had to agree, although she was tempted to find out where Bingo was being held and stalk the woman. She wanted to know right now. She’d probably have an aneurysm waiting until tomorrow. Then again, whatever the woman had to say was probably nothing anyway. What could Alphie Mueller know? “Okay. I’ll see you then.”
“Good. Have a lovely evening, dear.”
Before Ellie could say anything else, the woman hung up.
The first thing she did when she got home was to tell Charlie, who convinced Ellie that when she met with her on the following day, if she really had something important to say, Ellie should escort her immediately to the Police Station, no matter what Alphie thought about cops.
“But,” he cautioned her, “don’t get your hopes up. I can’t imagine it’s more than idle gossip.”
The next morning, Ellie could hardly contain herself. She opened on time and hoped for a heavier than usual morning, so she’d be too busy to think about her meeting with Alphie.
Marg had to be told, of course, and then she was all antsy as well.
Between the two of them, Marg said, they were as nervous as two long tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs.
The usual morning crowd had stopped in and left by nine o’clock, so Ellie went back to catching up on her book keeping. She was almost a little irked when the bell over the door rang. Knowing Marg had her hands in a batter of cinnamon raisin scone dough, she hit save, then headed out front.
Sierra Thorsen and Matt Pace stood on the other side of her counter, and the change in both of them was startling. Sierra looked positively radiant. Her face had a glow about it that no make-up could give, and she’d gotten her hair cut, and while still long it now had shape and body.
Matt Pace, on the other hand, looked pasty, even ill. Ellie had only seen him a handful of times, but he seemed to have lost weight, and his eyes were sunken, with dark smudges beneath them, a sure sign that he
hadn’t been sleeping. From the smell of him, he’d also been smoking like a chimney, something that must be contributing to the way his hands shook. Ellie felt for him, feeling sure Link had used him the way he’d used Josh.
“Good morning! I’m so sorry I haven’t had the chance to come by to visit since…”
Sierra took a seat at the counter. “We’ve all been busy. I’ve been trying to make the arrangements for Link’s funeral – his mother is, I’m sure, a sweet lady, but she just isn’t able to make any decisions at the moment.”
“You mean, too drunk,” Matt snarled.
Sierra gave him a look. “We wanted to stop by to say good bye before we left town.”
“You’re leaving? I thought…”
“The police have given us permission to go. I… I feel so bad for Josh, but there’s really nothing we can do for him here, and the Society needs us. Even though Link is gone and Josh is… temporarily out of action, there is still a great deal of work to be done.” She gave a sigh. “I, for one, am anxious to get back to it. Anxious, really, to get back to some sense of normalcy.”
“That doesn’t exist anymore, Sierra. Things will never be normal now. And who do you think is going to do ‘the work’, now that Link is gone? Who the hell is going to listen—”
Sierra stopped him with just a look. “That’s enough, Matty.” She turned her attention back to Ellie. “I’ll be heading back to Madison tomorrow morning and Matt will follow later in a rental car. He’s offered to preview, if that’s the right word, the body for Mrs. Fairweather before leaving town, make sure he looks… like Link.”
“Well, that’s great.” Inwardly, Ellie groaned. It may have meant freedom for Sierra, but to Ellie, all it meant was that Bill Gruetzmacher had given up on finding another suspect.
“May I have a latte please? With coconut milk?”
Ellie nodded. “Sure. Decaf? Flavored?”
“Vanilla, regular please. Large.”
Ellie tried to meet Matt Pace’s eyes, but he steadfastly refused to look at her. Finally, she said, “Mr. Pace? Is there something I can get you?”
