The Precipice

by Penny Goetjen

  “Oh! There you are. I’ve been knocking for quite a while. Are you alright?”

  Rashelle’s voice was a little too loud for her liking. Elizabeth paused for a moment and decided to ignore the question. She glanced down at the clothes tucked under her friend’s left arm and the shoes dangling from two fingers on her hand. “Thanks so much for letting me borrow more of your clothes. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I am so sorry for everything you are going through, Lizzi. I’m so sorry about Amelia…your grandmother. And sorry about the inn.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s arm with her free hand. “Oh and I thought you could use this, too.” She bent down and picked up a bottle of white wine. She must have been carrying it with her right hand and had to put it down to pound on the door.

  “Thanks kiddo. You know me too well.” Elizabeth took the clothes and wine from her friend. “My cell phone isn’t working.” She patted a front pocket of her stained pants. “I’ll catch up with you somehow. I’m just going to grab a little nap and get cleaned up.” She hoped it didn’t sound like she was trying to get rid of her, but she just wanted to crash for a while.

  “Sounds good. See you then.” Rashelle turned and started down the hallway toward the elevators.

  Elizabeth let the door swing shut behind her. She placed the bottle on the desk on her way to take a shower. She put the borrowed clothes on the top of the toilet, dropped the shoes on the floor, and then turned around to go back out to the sitting room. She had changed her mind about the wine. A little Pinot would taste good. She rummaged through the drawers in the kitchenette looking for a corkscrew with no luck. Then she glanced at the top of the bottle and discovered it was a screw top. “Of course, it’s Australian,” glancing at the label. “They don’t seem to mind screw off tops down under. Good thinking Shelle.” She quickly twisted off the top and looked around for a glass, figuring it would probably be clear plastic and wrapped in plastic. She was pleasantly surprised to see that there were four drinking glasses and four wine glasses arranged upside down on the counter, each resting on a plain, white paper doily. She selected a wine glass and noted that it wasn’t of the finest quality, certainly not what would have been used at the inn, and not very large, but it would do. She filled it as close to the brim as possible. After placing the open bottle on the counter next to its cap, she headed to the bathroom for a nice hot shower, taking a sip from her glass as she walked.

  Slipping out of her soiled clothing felt slightly cathartic. She had worn them far longer than any clothes were meant to be worn. They were so tattered and stained that the only option was going to be throwing them in the nearest trash can. Not even the local charity would want them.

  While the shower was warming up, Elizabeth continued to sip her wine. It tasted better than she remembered wine ever tasting. It started to warm her inside as it trickled down. A quick glance in the mirror made her gasp. She looked worse than she had imagined. A female version of Albert Einstein. Her head started to spin again as the events of the last twelve hours started to replay in her mind. She shook her head, left her wine glass on the sink, and slipped into the warmth of the pulsating water, wincing as the water hit her cuts and scrapes.

  Elizabeth turned and stood with her back to the shower, enjoying the invigorating sensation of the pulsating spray on her skin. She wanted to stand there forever, but the heat was starting to make her feel sleepy. As she started to relax, she began to think of her poor grandmother. Tears welled in her tired eyes. She grabbed onto the stabilization bar meant for handicapped guests. Her whole body started to shake as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her knees buckled and she landed in a heap in the tub. The warm water continued to rain down on her as she tried to gather herself. After several deep breaths she grabbed the bar again and pulled herself up to a standing position. She hung on until she felt comfortable standing on her own. She started to sob again, but hung onto the bar until she could pull herself together. She needed to bathe quickly and get out of the shower before she drowned herself. She washed with the little bar of soap that housekeeping had left in the soap dish, being careful to give gentle attention to the scrapes and cuts on her legs and the bump on the back of her head.

  After drying herself off with a towel that the staff at the inn wouldn’t have called a bath sized towel, she slipped into Rashelle’s clothes, grateful that she and her friend were about the same size. Ignoring the shoes for the time being, she opened the bathroom door, grabbed her wine glass from the sink, and drank the last of the glass. She headed straight for the bottle in the other room and refilled her glass. Taking a couple of sips as she walked, she made a beeline for the king-sized bed. She placed her glass on the bedside table and then went to the windows to close the curtains. Returning to the side of the bed, she noticed that the clock on the table read 3:00. It meant nothing to her. She had no sense of time at the moment. Her head was in a fog. She sat on the edge to quickly drink the rest of her Pinot and then slipped under the covers. Her wet hair dampened the pillowcase. Quickly she dropped off to sleep.

  Chapter 30

  Elizabeth awoke from a fitful sleep to the sound of the telephone next to her bed. It took her a few seconds to realize exactly what the sound was. The room was so dark that she had to fumble to find the phone, knocking the receiver onto the table. Once she managed to get the phone to her ear she could hear Kurt’s voice.

  “Elizabeth? Are you okay?”

  “I was until the phone rang.” She winced when she realized how rude that sounded.

  “I’m sorry, Liz. It has been several hours and I thought you could use—”

  “What time is it?” she interrupted.

  Kurt paused, apparently to check his watch. “It’s a little after nine.”

  “p.m.?” She was struggling to make sense of it, her head still hazy from being awakened.

  “Yes, p.m. I thought you could use a little food by now.”

  Elizabeth’s body was awake enough to send her hunger pangs. “Yeah, I could eat.” She still sounded groggy. “Give me a couple minutes and I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

  “Alright, see you then.”

  She fumbled again to replace the receiver on the base of the telephone in the dark. Then her fingers groped until they found the light on the bedside table. Closing her eyes tightly, she turned the switch. Slowly she opened her eyes, adjusting gradually to the bright light. She let out a groan and started for the bathroom. This time she avoided looking directly into the mirror and went straight to the task of splashing water on her face. Then she realized she had no make-up to use and had no idea what room Rashelle was staying in. She couldn’t borrow from her this time. She also didn’t have a comb or brush so she just wet her fingers at the sink and ran them through her hair, hoping to improve her appearance as much as she could so it wouldn’t be so obvious that she had just rolled out of bed. She glanced in the mirror and sighed. Hopefully he had a sense of humor. There wasn’t much else she could do. She quickly slipped on Rashelle’s shoes that resembled black ballet slippers, noting that they weren’t really her taste, and headed downstairs.

  When the elevator doors opened, she could see across the lobby and into the bar. There was Kurt with his blond, wavy hair perched on a stool sitting sideways so he could easily watch the big screen TV and glance to the elevators from time to time. She got about halfway across the lobby when he turned his head and smiled. He stood up and walked toward her.

  “Hey, Elizabeth. Good to see you. The restaurant has closed for the night, but we can grab a bite at the bar, if you don’t mind.” He didn’t seem to notice how horrible she looked. She figured he was just being kind. She was grateful.

  “That’s fine with me.” Then it occurred to her that she didn’t have her purse. Everything was back at the inn….at least she hoped she would find it when she got back there. “Uh, Kurt, I d
on’t have any cash on me, or credit cards for that matter.”

  “Oh, hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” Gently, he took her arm and led her toward the bar. He motioned for her to take the stool next to the one he had been sitting in. The bartender dropped a couple of menus in front of them without a word and then returned to restocking glasses in the overhead rack. Elizabeth noticed that Kurt had a drink in front of him. It was an amber colored liquid on ice in a short, wide glass. Jack Daniels, she guessed. The two sat in silence as they perused the short bar menu. When the bartender returned, they both ordered burgers, hers medium and his medium rare. Elizabeth also asked for a glass of white wine, which he poured right away and delivered it to her before putting in the food order. Did it look like she needed it that badly? She supposed that she did.

  After a few minutes of sipping drinks and listening to the din of the bar, Elizabeth finally spoke, “So, can you fill me in on what happened back at the inn?”

  “There’s really no rush and there’s not a lot I can tell you at this point.” He had a look of concern for her.

  “Oh, yes there is. I’m going to need to get back to work at some point, that is, if my boss hasn’t fired me already. The last time she called me, I hung up on her.”

  He decided not to address her comment. “The investigation is ongoing, but I can tell you what they know so far.” He examined her face to see if he should continue. She was clearly exhausted and probably numb from the death of her dear grandmother. Yet, in spite of it all, she was still absolutely beautiful in his eyes. But he needed to keep it professional and stick to the task at hand.

  Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, trying to relieve the tension. “Oh, just go ahead and spill it. How much worse can it be after the last couple of days?”

  Kurt chose not to answer that question directly. That would have to be for her to decide. “Let’s start with the Hutchins. The piece of the puzzle that was solved before the hurricane hit was that the Hutchins had given false names when they checked in and are really the Rizzos. Why they chose to do that is unclear at this point, but they are in custody and have a lot of explaining to do. The poor gentleman that you found on the kitchen floor, Joseph Stevens, the accountant, seems to be connected with Hutchins because of the numbers he punched into his cell phone before he died. 2, 1, 0, 1 are the numbers you came up with when you translated from the cell phone keypad to the calculator keypad. Two is the building number for Acadia House and 101 is the room number, the Hutchins’ room. Mr. Stevens would have dialed 2101 to reach him on a room phone.”

  “You mean Rizzo.”

  “Ah, yes. Rizzo. At this point it looks like he was Rizzo’s accountant, but there is no obvious motive for murdering him so the investigation continues.”

  Mitchell looked up to acknowledge Rashelle approaching them.

  “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

  Elizabeth turned and examined Rashelle’s face. She smiled, stood, and hugged her good friend who was now an unemployed inn manager. “So good to see you.” She turned to include Kurt in the conversation. “Kurt was just starting to explain what they have figured out so far that happened at the inn before the hurricane hit.” She revisited the image in her mind of the inn’s devastation from earlier that morning. It hadn’t really sunk in yet that it would take a tremendous amount of rebuilding to restore the inn to its former stature.

  “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”

  “Of course not. Pull up a seat.” Rashelle grabbed the stool next to Elizabeth’s and pulled it closer to her. “Okay, so go on.” Their focus was back on Kurt.

  Then Elizabeth remembered who she was speaking to. “I just have one question, Kurt. How is it that you got so involved in the investigation and know so much about what went on? Was that in your job description as the tennis pro?” She had a twinkle in her eye.

  At that untimely moment, the bartender appeared to take Rashelle’s order. She went for a lobster roll and glass of wine. He returned quickly to deliver her wine on a small, white cocktail napkin. She took a sip and turned to Kurt to acknowledge that she was listening.

  Kurt glanced at Elizabeth and back again to Rashelle. Both were sporting blank but expectant expressions. A smirk came across his face. “Good question.” He paused for effect and seemed to be enjoying the suspense he was creating. “I was hired by your esteemed assistant manager,” he nodded toward Rashelle, “upon the urging of your grandmother. I actually work for the FBI.” Elizabeth’s and Rashelle’s mouths dropped open. Kurt smiled in amusement.

  Elizabeth found her voice first, “What?” She hadn’t seen that coming.

  Kurt chuckled. “Well I’m glad to hear I didn’t blow my cover.”

  “So why were you there?” She didn’t see the connection.

  Kurt knew he couldn’t tell her much more during an ongoing investigation so he had to do his best to tactfully refrain from revealing any additional information. “I’m sorry, ladies. There isn’t really anything more I can tell you at this point. But as soon as the investigation is complete, you will be the first to get briefed on the outcome.”

  “What about the girl who was missing? Kelsey.”

  “I’m sorry, Liz. I can’t.”

  Elizabeth’s face clearly showed she was disappointed in his response, almost shocked. She had been hoping for so much more. She felt so uncomfortable not knowing the fate of the young girl. Elizabeth was quickly becoming angered. She could feel it building up inside of her. It was difficult suppressing it. She desperately wanted answers and was very frustrated that Kurt was not willing to give them to her.

  At that moment, their burgers arrived and the bartender reassured Rashelle that her order was on the way. Rashelle and Elizabeth exchanged looks of disgust and then turned away. The three became silent as Kurt and Elizabeth started in on their late dinner. Elizabeth was so hungry; it was all she could do to maintain her table manners. God help anyone who got their fingers near her food.

  Before long Rashelle’s lobster roll arrived and she ordered another glass of wine. Elizabeth and Kurt ordered another round as well. The three ate in silence as they devoured their late night meals. The sounds of the bar’s televisions and the loud chatter of the bar’s patrons filled their ears. Elizabeth found herself longing for a quiet corner.

  Chapter 31

  In the days after the hurricane, while they were waiting for the authorities to perform an autopsy on Amelia’s body, Elizabeth and the staff did their best to clean things up a bit at the inn. Lizzi also kept busy making phone calls, determining priorities, and coordinating outside contractors who were performing the repairs necessary to keep the inn and outbuildings water tight. One of her calls was to her boss to let her know she wouldn’t be back to work right away. She made sure to place the call late one evening when she could be fairly sure that Vera would not be in the office. She left a message for her and it was comforting to know that Vera had no way to return her call. There was something very liberating about that.

  Elizabeth thought her grandmother would have liked the idea of having her memorial service at the inn, right next to her garden. Unfortunately, even on a beautiful, sunny, September afternoon, the inn seemed so sad. Broken windows were boarded up for the time being until Elizabeth had a chance to decide what her long term plans were for the property. The front of the main building had taken the brunt of the storm. There wasn’t much of a porch left. Acadia Building was so heavily damaged that there was talk that it should just be leveled and rebuilt. Moosehead Lodge seemed to be in much better shape. Some minor repairs should put it back into working order. All of those decisions would be made in time. At the moment, the focus was on saying good-bye to beloved Amelia.

  One by one, the staff and local neighbors stopped on their way out to speak to Elizabeth as she stood like a sentry at the gate to Elizabeth’s garden. Everyone had
warm, comforting words to share with her. They all seemed to love Amelia. She would be sorely missed. The inn just wouldn’t be the same…well, it wouldn’t be the same physically because of the storm, but it also wouldn’t be the same without Amelia at the helm. The future of the inn was up in the air.

  After most of the crowd had passed by Elizabeth, Kurt Mitchell approached her tentatively. “Elizabeth…I am so sorry about your grandmother.” She looked into his eyes and could only shake her head. A tear escaped her eye and traveled down the side of her face. He wrapped one of his long arms around her shoulders and held her tight. No words were spoken. This was what she needed. She was lost in his thoughtful touch for several moments. They stepped apart and she felt instantly cold. A shiver ran down her spine. She desperately wanted to grab hold of him again but she really didn’t want to appear as desperate as she felt.

  Kurt noticed Chief Austin making his way toward them. “Hello, Chief.”

  “Hello, Mitchell. Miss Pennington.” He tipped his hat. Elizabeth thought he looked rather humble. “Sorry to interrupt.” The chief extended his hand towards Elizabeth. “I just wanted to offer my condolences to you.”