by Dee Ernst
No one even turned a head as I walked in the living room, other than the policeman who was slouched against the far wall. There was murmuring, so I knew no one was asleep, but I felt like I was invisible. In a sense, I was. I was a total stranger to these people.
So, how did I get them to talk?
I turned around and headed toward the kitchen.
I couldn’t walk in, of course. It was a crime scene. There were people crawling over every inch of space. I watched for a few minutes until a man in a suit finally noticed me and came over.
“You’re not supposed to be here, ma’am.”
God, I hated being called ma’am “I know, but I was wondering…could I possibly get some food? Like, those apple pies over there?”
The man in the suit grinned. “Maybe you should take them, before my men scarf them down.” He pulled a rimmed baking sheet from under the counter, and piled on plates, forks, and both pies. He handed me the cookie sheet. “Don’t let the killer get the biggest piece.”
I carefully carried my precious cargo back to the great room. Those pies still smelled amazing, and at the sight of them, the room burst into frenzied activity.
“Oh, Ellie, you’re a lifesaver,” Annalise said, springing up to help me as I set the pies on the coffee table.
“I’ll slice,” Bradley offered.
“Me too,” Sybil said. People were up and moving, passing along plates of apple goodness. I brought a piece over to the policeman in the corner. He smiled gratefully, but remained standing as everyone else sat back down and started eating. After all, we were suspects. I shouldn’t have imagined he’d sit down with us and start shooting the breeze.
It took a few minutes of silent eating, but there’s nothing like pie to get the conversation flowing.
“Do you think it was a crime of passion thing?” Jory asked. “You know, jilted lover?”
“Well, he certainly was good looking enough,” Claudia remarked.
I glanced around. Meg was not among us. “Where’s Meg?”
Louis, Sybil’s husband, shrugged. “Maybe she’s back in her room. She’s been questioned, no?”
“We’ve all been questioned,” Kevin grumbled.
Except me, but I wasn’t about to say that.
“Where are all the lawyers?” I asked. I had spent the afternoon watching various tall men in dark suits come through the front door, but hadn’t paid much attention to their leaving.
“Probably staying at the Marriott,” Bennett said, “and charging room service. I’m sure I’ll see it on my bill.”
Sybil got up, took a tiny sliver off the remaining bit of pie, and then sat back down. “Well, let’s face it, everyone. Someone here killed that man. A lawyer is a good thing to have right now.”
Nadia, who had been sitting noticeably apart from the rest of us, spoke up. “Rob slept around. He went after me the first time I stayed here, but I’m… ah… not really into men.”
We all turned and looked at her. Nadia shrugged. “Meg knew all about it, I think.”
“What makes you think Meg knew?” I asked, trying not to jump up and run over to sit next to her, so I could more readily observe her body language and facial expression.
She shrugged again. Obviously her favorite form of communication. “He wasn’t very subtle. And Meg apologized to me.”
“Apologized?” Jory said. “He’s a scumbag and she apologizes?”
“Every marriage is its own little kingdom,” Louis said. “There’s the king and a queen, the general and the jester. Roles are different for everyone. I’ve learned not to judge other couples. There is a great deal that goes unseen.”
“How wise,” Kevin muttered.
“What bullshit,” Jory said at the same time. We all laughed.
“Well, they were having a bit of a spat last night,” I offered. My pie was finished. There was a nice-sized wedge left that, as a good girlfriend, I should have snagged for Sam, but I knew that once it was in my possession, I would eat it with just a twinge of regret.
“Yes, I heard them,” Annalise said. “It was about money.”
“Everyone fights about money,” Claudia said, her lips a tight line. “Even people who have lots of it.”
“They were doing well here,” Nadia said. “Meg is very good at organizing events and weekends here to draw customers. Like this mystery weekend. There are a half dozen of these every year, and she charges a great deal of money.”
Bradley snorted and nodded his head. “That’s a fact.” He ran his hand over his bald head. “But who knows what kind of debt they had. They started this place from nothing. It was a run-down foreclosure when they bought it.”
“If the idea is that Meg killed Rob because of money, it doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why kill off an asset like a great chef?”
“Meg’s too smart for that. She’s a sharp woman.” Sybil sat back and looked around. “Harvard Business.”
A few heads nodded sagely.
Sam came into the room, caught my eye, and motioned with his head for me to come closer. I grabbed the near-empty pie dish as I got up.
“That was fast,” I said when I reached him. “Here. I saved you pie.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You saved me pie?”
“Well, I didn’t eat it myself. Same thing.”
“True. Very kind of you. I’m not done. Detective Stuart has a lot more questions for me, but it’s getting late, and I didn’t want you waiting all night.”
I stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss. “Thanks”
Then I walked across the front room and into the library.
The library was small, but nearly perfect. There was a corner fireplace, a window seat, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases on two walls. There was also a round oak table flanked by four leather chairs. Detective Stuart looked up as I entered and smiled tightly. “Please, sit down.”
There was a man in a suit sitting on the window seat, notepad in hand. I could barely see his face in the shadows.
The table was covered with a laptop, cell phone, and two yellow legal pads, as well as a coffee mug. She looked tired and determined. She was reading from one of the yellow pads as I sat, nodding to herself.
She looked up. “You’re not a lawyer?”
“No.”
“Thank God.”
I burst out laughing. “Yeah, right? I’ve never felt so sorry for anyone as I’ve felt for you tonight.”
She ran a hand through her short gray hair. “You’re also a relative stranger here, right? You’ve never met any of these people before?”
“No. Just Sam. Detective Kinali.”
She pursed her lips. “I think he’s a good cop.”
“I think so too. He’s also a pretty sexy guy, don’t you think?”
Her jaw dropped open, then it was her turn to laugh. “Yes, but please don’t tell him I said so. Now, tell me everything you can remember about the past day and a half.”
Was she kidding? But I started talking. Soon, I understood why her interviews had taken so long. She listened, took notes, then asked questions, taking me back to various points over and over. She reminded me of Boot, who would drag me back to the same fallen log over and over, just in case there was something there that she’d missed.
I was getting tired. This was way past my bedtime. I started yawning, and she asked if I wanted coffee. If I so much as walked past caffeine at this hour of the night, I’d never get to sleep, so I shook my head and kept going.
Finally, she leaned back. “Who do you think did it?”
“What? Seriously? I have no idea.”
“I’m sure that’s not an accurate statement. I bet you have all sorts of ideas.”
“I don’t think Meg did it,” I said. “Does that count?”
Detective Stuart sat back and looked at me for a long time.
“Why?” The man sitting on the window seat spoke up. I had completely forgotten he was there.
“Because I saw her. I don’t think she was
faking. I think finding Rob’s body was a shock.”
“What about the fight?” The man asked.
I turned in my seat to face him. “Hi. I’m Ellie.”
He cracked a smile. “And I’m Detective Harry Fine. What about the fight?”
“I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Meg was really angry. I could see her face.”
“And Rob?” Detective Fine asked.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture it in my mind. Detective Stuart had asked me three times about the fight. What could I possibly add?
“I couldn’t see his face.” I squeezed my eyes tighter. “But he wasn’t upset.”
“How could you tell?” Detective Stuart asked, leaning forward.
“His body language, I guess.” I opened my eyes. “She was all tense. I could see her shoulders, how they were drawn up. But Rob seemed…relaxed. Like when you’re with a child who has a hissy fit and you know it will blow over, so it doesn’t even bother you?”
Detective Stuart looked past to Detective Fine. Her face didn’t change but her eyes did. “Thank you, Miss Rocca. Can you send Mr. Kinali back in?”
I got up. It required effort. I was exhausted. I wandered out and back to the living room.
The fire had gone out, and only one table lamp remained lit. The room was fairly dark. Sam was stretched out on the couch, asleep. There was the single officer still in his corner, sitting in a chair but looking alert. He didn’t say anything as I walked in, but nodded briefly.
I stood over Sam and watched him sleep, thinking how, right now, we should have been upstairs together, warm and comfortable under a down quilt. Poor Sam.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He was instantly awake and sat up abruptly. “What time is it?”
“After one. Sherlock and Watson want you back.”
He smiled tiredly and stood up, stretching. “You mean Detectives Stuart and Fine?”
“Whoever. I’d love to wait up for you, but I think that’s a physical impossibility.”
He put his arm around me and walked me to the staircase. “Go to bed. Do not open the door to anyone. I’ll be up in a little bit.”
I nodded and went upstairs. I leaned against the door of my room, fumbling to push the correct numbers. Sybil was suddenly at my side.
“What did they say?” she asked in a whisper.
She scared me half to death. “God, Sybil, what’s with the ninja routine? They didn’t say anything.”
She shrugged and drew her red silk robe tighter around her shoulders. “What did Sam say?”
“Not to let anyone in my room,” I said pointedly. She stared at me for a moment, turned to walk back down the hall, rounded the corner, and was gone.
I crawled into bed. I didn’t move a muscle until morning.
Chapter 5
I woke up early. Well, nine o’clock. Considering how late I’d been awake the night before, I was impressed with myself.
I slid out of bed, pulled on jeans and a sweater, and walked quietly downstairs.
On the desk in the foyer there was a Box O’ Joe from Dunkin Donuts, paper cups, sugar and creamers, and three big, flat boxes of doughnuts. I peeked into the first box. Not a piece of fruit or bowl of oatmeal in sight. I went into the great room, where the empty pie plates were still scattered about. I took the rimmed cookie sheet, poured coffee for Sam and I, grabbed four doughnuts and then carried everything back upstairs. There was one police officer sitting by the fireplace, who watched me but didn’t say a word. I didn’t see anyone else.
I was fumbling for the keypad, trying to balance my makeshift tray with one hand, when the door opened, and I almost fell into the room. Sam grabbed the tray before anything spilt, and looked at me admirably.
“You are very resourceful. Excellent. And is that Boston cream? My God, Ellie, you’re the best.”
We ate on the bed, on top of the blankets, and I waited until he had two doughnuts before diving in.
“So, what did Laura and Harry have to say? How, exactly, was Rob killed?”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I hate drinking out of polystyrene,” he grumbled.
“Me too, but I didn’t think I could grab any real mugs. I imagine the kitchen is still off limits. What did Laura say?”
“You can taste all that artificial stuff, you know? And the coffee doesn’t cool off at all. I don’t really like it this hot.”
“Next time, you can do the foraging. And stop trying to get me off the subject, because you know you can’t. What did Laura say?”
He sighed. “Rob was stabbed with an eight-inch long boning knife. Whoever did it wrapped the hilt with a kitchen towel before striking. There were no prints, naturally, and the towel absorbed most of the initial blood spray, so there’s probably a good chance there will be no blood on the clothing. He was probably killed instantly. He wasn’t moved, he fell where he was struck, which is interesting.”
“Because whoever did it had to know that storage room was tucked away like that. Rob could have been there for hours, right?”
He nodded. “Very good, grasshopper. What else?”
“It may not have been premeditated, but I’m sure the knife wasn’t back in the storeroom, which means the killer probably followed Rob, grabbing the knife and towel on the way.” I drank my coffee and looked longingly at the last doughnut. Cinnamon sugar, just sitting there. “So, X went in to talk to Rob, saw the conversation was not going well, suggested they go someplace more private, saw the knife, took it, and stabbed him.”
“Very good.”
“Then came back out of the kitchen, sat down, and had a drink with us.”
His lips formed a thin tight line. “Yes.” His hand reached for the last doughnut. “Do you want this?”
I had eaten my one plain doughnut very slowly, savoring each morsel. “No. Not at all,” I lied.
He took a bite. “They’re doing background checks. If anyone is hiding a former connection to Rob, they’ll find out. In the mean time, we’re under house arrest.”
“So how are we going to solve this murder?”
He held the doughnut close to my lips. I took a nibble.
“Good?” he asked.
“You’re trying to distract me again. This time with food. Have you no shame?”
He took a huge bite of doughnut. A small bit remained. He held it back in front of me. “If you promise not to mention the words we ,solve, and murder in a sentence for the next three days, I’ll give you this last piece.”
I leaned forward, opened my mouth, then bit. I chewed slowly. Delicious. I took a slow drink of coffee to wash it all down. My mouth was tingling with pure happiness.
“So, Sam,” I said at last. “How are we going to solve this murder?”
He sighed. “I was afraid of this.” He kissed me. His lips tasted of coffee and chocolate.
I pushed him away. “We need to get cracking. I’ll shower first. You can figure out how we’re going to build our timeline.” I got out of bed and headed into the bathroom.
“You’re a hard woman,” Sam called after me.
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” I stuck my head out of the bathroom door. “Of course, we could save lots of time showering together.”
He grinned. “And a smart woman.” He got out of bed. “An irresistible combination.”
Yeah, well. I knew that.
Everyone was in the dining room when we finally came down, sitting at separate tables, sipping coffee, eating doughnuts and not talking. We had stopped at the desk in the foyer to grab paper and pens, and arrived ready to start the Sam and Ellie Solve a Murder Show. Sam looked around and smiled broadly.
“Good morning, people,” he said loudly. Everyone turned to him as his voiced bounced around the room. “We are going to figure out who killed Rob, and we’re going to do it today, so that tomorrow we can be back with our families for the start of the New Year.”
Sybil leaned back and raised her eyebrows. “Oh? And who,
exactly, is we?”
“Me. After all, this is what I do for a living.”
Jody lifted her chin in my general direction. “What about her?”
“Her?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “You mean Ellie? She will be my trusted assistant.”
“And how do we know she didn’t do it?” Kevin challenged. “Or that you didn’t do it, for that matter?”
“Because at one point or another yesterday afternoon, all of you were alone for a period of time, whereas Ellie and I were together the entire time.”
“So you say,” Kevin said. “Why should we believe you?” Boy, what a ball buster he was turning out to be.
Sam was unfazed. “You don’t have to believe me, Kevin, but you really should try to cooperate. We’re going to go over everyone’s movements Saturday afternoon. From our interrupted discussion yesterday, it’s obvious to me that more than a few of you were wandering around alone. That’s probably when you might have seen or heard something important. Ellie is going to give everyone paper and a pen. Start at two o’clock, because that was the last time we saw Rob alive.”
“Except for whoever killed him,” Meg said loudly. She was sitting across from Nadia, and obviously hadn’t slept.
Sam crossed over to crouch down beside her. “I know this must be awful for you, Meg, but it’s very important. Are you up for this?”
Meg lifted her chin and nodded.
Sam put his hand on her shoulder and stood up, glancing around the room. “Don’t talk to anyone, just write down where you were at two o’clock, then where you went after that, and try to mark the time. If you’re not sure, guess. There’s roughly two hours to fill. Be as specific as you can. If you went to the bathroom or made a phone call or stuck your head out the window—write down everything, including who you saw and where. That is just as important. That is how we’re going to spot the liar.”
I sat down as well and wrote out my own timeline. Since most of it involved staying in the room with Sam, it didn’t take me long. I sat back and watched everyone else.
I have to say, they were a diligent bunch that knew how to follow directions. Everyone was hunched over, writing, thinking, and writing again. There were some obviously uncomfortable expressions, but they all wrote.
