“Yeah,” Maggie said, her voice trembling. “I just remembered someplace I gotta be.”
She stuck the letter in her back pocket, ran out of the station, and got in her VW. Later on she couldn’t remember driving home. She walked up and down the long hall of her apartment for awhile, just trying to slow down her breathing so she could think. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest she felt lightheaded. She placed the letter on the kitchen table. She tried to organize her thoughts, which were racing and tumbling in her head.
Scott told her he went through every piece of Margie’s stolen mail the night after she and Hannah found it, so he’d had this letter since Monday morning. That meant he had the letter the previous night, when they spent the evening together, and almost slept together.
Gabe had disappeared in early March; in two weeks it would be exactly seven years. The postmark, from Miami, Florida, was from June of that same year.
Maggie picked up the envelope, removed and unfolded one page of notebook paper covered front and back with Gabe’s jerky, messy handwriting. She flattened it out on the kitchen table and started reading. When she finished her eyes were clouded by tears, but she didn’t have the strength to get up and find a tissue. Of all the tears she’d shed over the last seven years, none were as bitter as the ones that fell now. She sat and cried, not bothering to wipe them away. Her heart, which had been patched up and glued back together just like an old china tea pot, shattered once again into a million pieces.
Scott left Doc Machalvie’s office frustrated because the doctor refused to tell him anything about the case at Pine Crest, other than to nod as Scott told him what Maggie found out.
“I can neither confirm or deny any of that,” Doc said. “I can’t afford another lawsuit.”
Scott felt like he was in an impossible position. He needed Sarah to have this information, but he didn’t want to get anyone in any trouble for sharing it. He called Hannah.
“You got it,” Hannah said. “I planned to drop in on some of my scanner grannies today anyway. This afternoon I’m helping Drew out at the veterinary office, but I can drop in on a few more on my way home.”
“I need to make sure it gets back to Sarah,” he said, “and that you’ll keep the source a secret.”
“Don’t worry. By the time this gets across town and back, there will be six people claiming they were there when it happened. This is super juicy gossip.”
“It’s not gossip, it’s the truth.”
“You can split hairs all you want, Scott, but you are starting the hottest rumor in this town since Ava inherited money from Theo.”
“I feel dirty all the sudden.”
“That’s between you and Maggie.”
Scott was not allowed to investigate the case, but he still felt obligated to drop by the bed and breakfast to give his condolences to Delores Moseby, the late college president’s wife. He had been distracted from doing so on his previous attempt by Ava and the abandoned baby.
Delia was working the front desk again. She looked grim, and he assumed it was from all the stress of covering so many jobs for everyone.
“You must be feeling stretched thin about now,” he said.
“I go where I’m needed,” Delia said shortly, getting up to close the door that led down the hall to the kitchen, explaining, “The baby’s sleeping.”
Scott told her he knew about the trouble Connie got into at Pine Crest. Delia’s face flushed and she pursed her lips.
“I can’t talk about that,” she said.
“That’s okay,” Scott said. “You don’t have to.”
Mrs. Moseby came down after Delia called her room. She was pale and unsteady on her feet, and her daughter supported her. Delia left the front parlor to give them some privacy.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” Scott said to them both when they were seated.
“Thank you,” Delores said. “You were always very helpful to Newton when the students caused trouble in town.”
“Has the county sheriff’s office been in touch with you yet?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why the county had to be involved. They say I can’t have his body until Friday, and I still have arrangements to make.”
“Have you been allowed back in your rooms at the inn?”
“No, and I have personal items there to collect. Can you do anything about that?”
“I’m sorry, Delores, it really is out of my hands.”
“I have a mind to just go over there and get my things, no matter what they say.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Scott said. “It might delay things even longer.”
Delores sent her daughter to the kitchen to get her a cup of tea. As soon as she left, Delores leaned forward toward Scott and lowered her voice.
“Will it be in the papers, about those photos?”
“It won’t be in the Sentinel,” Scott said. “Ed Harrison isn’t one to sensationalize things. As far as the daily paper, it just depends on what information the county releases.”
“Such a scandal,” Delores said, shuddering at the thought. “I won’t be able to walk with my head up in Rose Hill after this. I’ve decided to go back with my daughter to Florida, and we’ll have a small memorial service there. I called Stuart and told him I wouldn’t be back to work at the pharmacy. I just can’t face anyone.”
“Were you still at the inn the night of the board meeting?” Scott asked her.
“No, I left early in the evening to drive to Pittsburgh, because I had an early morning flight the next day, and there was a storm forecast.”
“Did Newton seem agitated or upset about anything?”
“No, he was sorry he couldn’t come with me, but he seemed fine to me.”
“I heard you had a run-in with Margie at the pharmacy awhile back, and your tires got slashed.”
Delores’s face flushed, and she gave Scott an affronted look.
“Are you questioning me, Scott? I thought you said you weren’t investigating the case?”
“No, you’re right, I’m not. Just a habit, I guess.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll agree I’ve had enough prying and personal questions already. That Albright woman was very rude to us, kept us waiting for almost an hour, and then had an ugly attitude. I have half a mind to call her supervisor and say so.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Delores’s daughter came back with her tea and Scott thanked Delores for her time. Before he left he had a thought.
“Couldn’t Connie bring your things over to you?”
“I wouldn’t lower myself to ask her. I don’t care if I ever see that crazy woman again as long as I live.”
“Sorry,” Scott said, and beat a hasty retreat.
Scott thought he might just drop in and see how Connie was doing, as a concerned neighbor, no matter how many blocks away he happened to live. When she answered the door, her face was even more haggard and gray than the last time he saw her. She invited him into the kitchen, and offered him some tea.
“No thanks,” Scott said, worried she might dose the tea with something that would put him to sleep, and then finish the job with one of her decorative needlepoint pillows. “I was just visiting with Mrs. Moseby over at Ava’s.”
“I had to check out all my guests and send half of them to Ava,” Connie said. “I hope she’s grateful.”
“I’m sure she is,” Scott said. “Delia’s over there helping her out. I didn’t know you and Delia were nurses together when you were younger.”
Connie gave Scott a sharp look.
“What did she tell you about that?”
“Said that it was so long ago she couldn’t remember anything about it.”
“Her son had just died, so I expect it’s painful for her to look back.”
“I expect so. Where did you work together?”
“Pine Crest Manor in Fleurmania. I don’t even know if it’s still there.”
“I believe so. That’s a tiny little town,
isn’t it?”
“Mm hmm,” Connie said. “I guess so. I haven’t been there in years.”
“Connie, when you found Newton, did you see the pictures in his briefcase?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I checked his pulse and called 911. Then I waited downstairs for the paramedics.”
“But you didn’t try to resuscitate him yourself?”
“There was no pulse, and his body was cold to the touch. There didn’t seem to be any point.”
“Did you check his pupils?” Scott asked.
Connie’s face went pale.
“No, I didn’t. Why are you asking me all these questions? Sarah said you weren’t helping her with the case.”
“Just a habit, I guess. It just bothers me to have people being murdered left and right on my patch. It hurts my self esteem as a police officer.”
“Newton wasn’t murdered. He committed suicide.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Someone was blackmailing Newton and he killed himself rather than be exposed. That’s what the suicide note said.”
“Did you read it before or after you called the paramedics?”
“I don’t remember.”
“And the open briefcase with the pictures was sitting on the dressing table right next to the desk.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Were you the little girl in those pictures, Connie?”
“I certainly was not! Why would you even think that? That’s an awful thing to say.”
“How would you know if the pictures were awful or not, or if they were of you or not, if you didn’t look at them?”
“Alright, I did look at them. I saw he was dead so I read the blackmail note and I saw the pictures. He deserved to die, looking at pictures like that. Nobody should want to look at filth like that and do whatever filthy thing he was doing. I run a clean establishment and everyone knows it. I won’t have filthy people like him bringing shameful, awful, filthy things into my inn. That room will never come clean. Never.”
She was wild-eyed and her hands were trembling as she spoke.
“He took the overdose, but he was still alive when you found him, then,” Scott said.
“No, he was cold. I checked his pulse. I told you that. Don’t you try to trick me.”
“He was still breathing, so you helped him finish the job, didn’t you Connie? He was on the edge and you just helped him over. He was going to die anyway. He wanted to die.”
“No, I didn’t. I swear.”
“You held a pillow over his face and pressed it down, held it there until the job was done. It was easy to do. He was almost dead anyway, wasn’t he? Who could blame you? It was him that wanted to die.”
“You’re crazy,” she said. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
“They’re going to subpoena the files at Pine Crest, Connie, where you did the same thing to that old man. Everyone will know then what you did. They’ll know you did it again.”
“They didn’t prove anything. They had to pay me thousands of dollars for saying such awful things. I’ll sue them again if they tell. They’re not allowed to tell.”
“The judge will make them tell. You committed the same crime again, so all bets are off. Everyone involved will have to tell on you in court, or they will go to jail. You did it again, so they can tell and not get in any trouble. Everyone will know now exactly what you did.”
“You can’t prove it,” she said quietly, her eyes red and glassy.
“But you had to do it, didn’t you? He was already dying. He was ready to die. It was better that he be put down, wasn’t it? Better for everyone.”
“He brought that filth into my house,” Connie said.
“Everyone will understand. You were just cleaning up the mess he made. You were just helping him clean up the awful, filthy mess he’d made in your house.”
Connie was staring into space, her eyes completely glazed over.
“He was so ashamed he tried to kill himself,” Scott said. “He didn’t want to wake up, but he might not have taken enough.”
“I couldn’t tell,” Connie said. “I couldn’t wake him up. I shook him and he didn’t wake up. That’s how I knew he meant to do it.”
“You were just cleaning up his mess. You were just helping him do what needed to be done.”
“He was almost dead, anyway,” she said in a whisper.
“And you just helped him go,” said Scott.
“Yes,” Connie said.
“You helped him die.”
“Yes,” Connie said.
Scott had his cell phone in his hand under the table, where he had speed-dialed his voice mail, and recorded their conversation. He only hoped it had picked up her last words, her quiet confession. He closed it and stuck it in his pocket.
Hannah led the docile, emaciated dog she had just rescued into the waiting room at Drew’s veterinary clinic, and tethered him to the heavy oak bench along the wall. The dog, a friendly but skinny hound dog in dire need of a bath and some food, lay down on the floor and looked pitiful. The dog had been scavenging near the dumpsters behind the Dairy Chef, and was easy for Hannah to catch using hamburgers donated by the restaurant owner who had reported the stray.
Hannah sighed as the newest in a series of lazy, dim receptionists Drew had just hired ignored her presence and continued to blab on the phone in what was obviously a personal call. This one’s name was Destiny, and although ostensibly an adult, she wore her hair in a toddler tail on the top of her head, and had on a pink sweatshirt featuring a couple big-eyed kittens and the words “Cuddly Wuddly” printed in sparkly letters on the front.
Knowing it was useless to expect the woman to give actual customer service, Hannah went behind the desk and got out the forms she needed to set up the dog’s new patient file. Destiny was filing her long sparkly nails while complaining to someone on the phone about her allergies, and intermittently snuffling back a prodigious amount of phlegm.
“It’s all these animals,” she whined into the mouthpiece. “If it weren’t for all these animals this job would be perfect for me.”
Destiny snapped her gum and scooted her chair over to make room for Hannah to get anything she needed off the desk. Hannah rolled her eyes so hard they felt sprained afterward.
Hannah filled out the new patient form, and was just finishing when Drew came out of the back room. The dog was lying as flat on the floor as was possible with his head between his front legs, looking worried. He wagged wanly at Drew but kept his submissive posture as the vet approached.
“He’s a big fella, but he’s awfully skinny,” Drew said. “Lucky you found him.”
Just then there was a low rumbling in the dog’s belly, a gulping sound in his throat, and Drew backed away just in time to avoid having his shoes puked on.
“Still using the hamburger technique, I see,” he said to Hannah.
“Ewwwww!” complained Destiny. “Do I have to clean that up?”
Drew led the dog back to the small kennel room and Hannah followed, noticing a familiar looking fawn-colored boxer in one of the recovery kennels.
“Is that Trixie?”
“Yep,” Drew replied. “Minus one pound of cheese, a salami, a bag of chips, and a loaf of bread.”
“Sounds like a party. What was it last time?”
“Three pounds of raw spare ribs.”
“You should install a zipper in that dog, Drew. It would save you some time later.”
“Trixie’s owner is coming by later to pick her up. I’ll be sure to suggest that.”
“What are you gonna do with this new one?”
“It’s a slow day. I’ll examine him, and if he’s in good enough shape I’ll worm him and get his shots all up to date.”
“Suits me. I’ve got two stone cold killers, three mangy mutts, and a hospice case out at my place, so I have no room.”
Hannah helped Drew get the trembling, timid dog up on the examining table, then talked s
oftly to calm him while Drew examined him and gave him the necessary injections. Hannah then helped get the dog into a cage far enough away from Trixie so she wouldn’t catch any cooties he might have.
She was glad to have the work to do as a distraction, because her husband still hadn’t called her, and she had no idea where he was, other than “Boston.” His home office was locked up tighter than a bank vault, and he wasn’t answering his cell phone, at least for her calls.
“Thank you so much,” Drew said to Hannah. “I wish I could afford to hire you.”
“Maybe someday I’ll get a big grant for a real shelter, and I’ll be able to hire you,” Hannah said.
“You know,” Drew said. “I probably shouldn’t talk about this yet, but Caroline wants to convert the barn at the lodge into a veterinary practice, once she gets her inheritance. She said it seemed a shame to let that empty space go to waste.”
“I found homes for all of Theo’s dogs, you know. That’s why it’s empty.”
“I know, and Caroline is really grateful.”
“I did that all on my own time, using county resources.”
“She gets that, she really does. I’m sure she’ll make a big donation. She just doesn’t have any of Theo’s money yet.”
“Doesn’t she have a big trust fund already?”
“She does, but so much of that is pledged to different charitable organizations that she really doesn’t have much left to live on.”
“Wow, what a saint,” Hannah said, but the sarcasm went right over Drew’s head.
“She does give a lot of her time and resources. It’s one of the things we both feel strongly about. She’s single handedly taking care of a group of Buddhist monks right now.”
Hannah rolled her eyes in a way that he couldn’t see.
“Well, I’m happy to help you out,” Hannah said. “The euthanasia jobs are not my favorite, but I’m glad to be there for support.”
“Speaking of which,” Drew said. “Did I tell you the weird news about Connie’s cat?”
“No, what?”
“She told me I could donate it to the vet school, so I sent it, and when they performed the autopsy they found out what shut the kidneys down.”
Morning Glory Circle Page 29
