Stroke of Death

by Agatha Frost

  Katelyn Monroe lay limply across her desk, her feet and hands hanging over the edges; she was obviously dead. A fabric curtain tie around her neck confirmed the cause of death, but that was not what had caught Liz’s attention. Instead of seeing a pale face with bright blue lips and bulging eyes like every other strangulation victim, an explosion of colour greeted her. Vivid paint covered every inch of Katelyn’s dead face as she lay on her desk, an unmoving and empty piece of art. Christopher stumbled backwards, the weight of his distraught fiancée pushing him into the wall. He reached out and grabbed Liz’s arm, his crystal eyes wide, his lips parted but unable to speak.

  “Christopher,” Liz whispered, the words catching in her own throat as she scrambled for her phone to call the police. “I’m so sorry.”

  4

  “Is that all you’re bringing?” Simon asked, cocking his head at the two carrier bags and backpack Liz had with her.

  “I travel light,” Liz said with a smile. “Come on, Paddy.”

  Simon took the bags and headed towards the farmhouse, Liz close on his heels. Before she followed him, she looked over Scarlet Cove as the setting sun stained the clear sky pink. The macabre thought that it looked like Katelyn’s frozen face drifted through her mind. Before her mind’s eye could focus on the gallery owner’s body, her attention wandered to the harbour on the coast’s edge. What was Christopher doing right now? She had wanted to talk to him, but after the police had interviewed them all separately, Lizzie had whisked him away.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Simon asked, his voice soft and soothing as he rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m thinking about how great it will be waking up to this beautiful view,” Liz said, the lie obvious in her voice. “I don’t think I could ever get used to it.”

  Simon kissed her on the top of her head before wrapping his arm around her. They stood and watched the sunset for a moment. Liz had never been more grateful to have her caring farmer boyfriend than in that moment. Years as a detective had never taken the edge off seeing a dead body, especially when it was someone she had known.

  “Mum’s made up the guest room for you,” Simon said, his soft grin so infectious that Liz could not help but mirror it. “Are you ready for the welcome party?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Simon pushed open the door into a small stone vestibule. Paddy ran in as though he had lived there his whole life. Simon passed the bags to Liz as he kicked off his dirty wellingtons on the doorstep.

  “I need to wash these off,” he said, nodding for her to venture in alone. “They don’t bite.”

  “I know,” Liz said with a nervous smile as Simon walked around the farmhouse, leaving her alone.

  Liz swallowed down the nerves as Paddy barked before spinning around in a circle. She told herself to stop acting like a teenager. She had walked into the farmhouse alone on many occasions over the last couple of months. A quick glance at the bags reminded her why she was nervous. She had lived alone for so long now, she was not sure how she would react to having a full house around her.

  “Come on, boy,” she said as she reached out for the handle. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

  Liz stepped over the threshold, the heat from the rustic kitchen warming her in seconds, banishing the chilly February air. Her cheeks flushed, forcing her to unravel her yellow knitted scarf. Paddy darted forward, his nose taking him straight under the giant table in the middle of the room, his nails scratching against the red tiles.

  No matter how many times Liz visited, she could not help but look around the vast kitchen in amazement. Every appliance was a different colour from a different era. They clashed with the plates, plaques, and horseshoes cluttering the exposed dark stone walls. Pots and pans hung from the low-beamed ceiling over the square table in the middle of the room, its wooden surface looking as old and used as the farmhouse itself. The chairs around the table were different shapes and sizes, but it added to the character in a way that would only work in a farmhouse. Unlike her own shell of a kitchen, it was homey and lived-in. She could almost smell the years of casseroles that the stove had cooked.

  The sound of Liz closing the door behind her brought Simon’s parents, John and Sandra, bustling into the room. She did not doubt they had been waiting in the other room anticipating her arrival.

  “We heard you found another body.” Sandra cried before pulling her into a tight hug. “You poor thing.”

  “Give the girl some breathing room, Sandra,” John said in his deep, booming voice, his grey moustache dancing on his top lip. “Let her get her coat off at least.”

  Sandra was wearing her usual floral apron, which she had fastened over a fleece. Tight-fitting brown jodhpurs tucked into riding boots completed the look, making her look like she was ready to jump on the back of a horse at any moment. John was wearing a black Barbour jacket over a checked shirt, which was tucked into faded jeans. A flat cap balanced on top of his thinning hair. Liz was sure if she looked up ‘typical British farming couple’, a smiling picture of Sandra and John Greene would be proudly displayed.

  Sandra let go when Liz returned the hug. After months of living in Scarlet Cove, hugs from locals had become part of common practice when it came to greetings. She was slowly growing to like them.

  “I know we mustn’t speak ill of the dead, but Katelyn Monroe wasn’t a nice lady,” John announced as he pulled off his flat cap. “I hope she rests in peace though. We all deserve a chance to try on old age.”

  “Is it true what they’re saying about her painted face?” Sandra asked, the gossip channels in Scarlet Cove connected all the way up to the farm on the hill. “How bizarre.”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Liz confirmed in a formal procedural voice she had not heard leave her lips in a long time. “Although it was less children’s party, and more a statement.”

  “Who do you suppose killed her?” John asked, his finger tapping on his chin. “Odd way to go.”

  “I don’t know,” Liz lied, not wanting to admit she already had her suspects lined up in her mind and they all belonged to her club. “Thank you for letting me stay here. I do appreciate it.”

  “We’ll hear none of that,” John said with a hearty chuckle. “It’s our pleasure! Ellie has been so excited since she heard you’d be here.”

  “Besides, you’re practically family!” Sandra announced as she ushered Liz over to the kitchen table to sit down. “The minute I clapped eyes on you, I said to my John that you and our Simon would end up together. Didn’t I say that, John?”

  “Let the woman settle in, Sandra.”

  “But I did say that,” Sandra whispered to Liz before shuffling over to the metal kettle on the stove. “I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea, and we can have a nice chat. I can’t tell you how much this place needs another woman.” Sandra filled up the kettle before igniting the gas hob with a match. “With all this work at the farm, I don’t get to town much. I need to catch up on the gossip.”

  John gave his wife a stern look, but it softened in a second, and a look of realisation struck Sandra’s face.

  “What a terrible thing to say!” Sandra scolded herself, placing her hand on her chest. “Considering what has happened, gossip is the last thing this town needs. When will I learn to think before I speak?”

  “Don’t be silly, my dear,” John said, giving her such an endearing look that Liz could not help but smile. “You’re perfect to me.”

  In all her years of living with her parents as a child, Liz could not remember them ever sharing a tender moment. Both being lawyers, their conversations revolved around work, their language formal and coded. Sandra and John seemed so in love, even after so many years together. Liz knew that she would be a lucky woman if she were as happy as they were when she reached their age, which she was realising was not as far off as it seemed.

  “While you’re here, this is your house too,” Sandra said as she scooped loose tea into a china teapot before pouring in the boiled
water. “We want you to feel right at home, don’t we, John?”

  “What’s ours is yours,” John said, spreading his hands out like a circus ringleader as he bowed to Liz. “Don’t be afraid to ask. We’re more than happy to accommodate your needs.”

  “I’ve always said you were a hotel owner in a previous life,” Sandra said as she hurried over with the teapot. “John loves nothing more than a house full of people.”

  Before Liz had time to say a word, Ellie ran into the room, her blonde pigtails fluttering behind her. She jumped onto Liz’s lap, hugging and winding her in the same moment.

  “Liz!” she cried breathlessly, her little hands wrapped around Liz’s neck. “Come and see my room first! You have to see all my teddies. I even called one Liz.”

  “Tea first!” Sandra cried as she poured Liz a cup. “Sugar and milk?”

  “No, thank you,” Liz said as she returned Ellie’s tight embrace.

  “This woman is made of strong stuff,” John said with a friendly slap on Liz’s shoulder. “I like her more and more every day.”

  Ellie slid off Liz’s lap, her attention immediately turning to Paddy. She zoomed towards him, her arms outstretched. Paddy noticed just in time to escape, running out of the kitchen. After a few moments, Liz heard Paddy’s fast footsteps echo down the hallway followed by Ellie’s. Simon slipped inside, shoeless with his clean boots in his hand. He dropped them onto an already full shoe rack next to the door before flashing Liz a grin.

  “How are they treating you?” Simon asked with a wink. “Hope they’re going easy on you.”

  “Of course we are!” Sandra exclaimed as she sat across from Liz, a cup of tea in her own hands. “You know we love her, Simon. Maybe even more than you do.”

  “Not possible,” Simon said before kissing Liz on the top of her head and sliding into the seat next to her. “What a day. I’ve put the horses to bed, and the chickens are all fed. Cows need sorting out, but I needed a sit down after today.”

  “You put your feet up,” John said as he slapped his flat cap back on his head. “I’ve got it.”

  John slipped out of the kitchen, leaving Sandra to grab another cup for Simon. They sipped their tea and chatted about what had been happening in town, the conversation strangely staying away from the gallery murder. Liz was sure the only thing worse than having to talk about it was not talking about it at all. When Ellie zoomed back into the room, Liz was almost glad of the distraction. Her cheeks were flushed and stray strands of hair had fallen over her face.

  “Come see my room,” Ellie demanded, tugging on Liz’s sleeve. “Please!”

  “I hope you have the energy to keep up with her,” Sandra said with a soft chuckle. “She’s a little ball of lightning. She runs circles around us.”

  “Please!” Ellie begged, tugging even harder. “Please, Liz!”

  “Let me show Liz her room, and then I’m sure she’d be happy to,” Simon said after draining the last of his tea. “Wouldn’t you, Liz?”

  “I’d love to,” Liz said as she ruffled Ellie’s hair. “I hope it’s nice and tidy.”

  With Simon’s help, Liz pulled off her coat and hung it on a hat stand next to the overflowing shoe rack. Simon picked up the plastic bags and Liz picked up the backpack. They looped their free hands together before he led her out of the kitchen and into a narrow hallway.

  “Sorry about them,” Simon whispered, his grip tightening around her hand. “They get over excited.”

  “They’re sweet,” she said as they walked down the hallway lined with family pictures leading back to before Simon was born. She paused at a picture of Sandra and John on their wedding day standing outside St. Andrew’s Church. They looked as happy today as they did then. “I would have killed for parents like yours when I was Ellie’s age. They disliked me the second I expressed any interest in art.”

  “How could anyone dislike you?”

  “Ask my parents,” Liz replied with a forced laugh. “It’s a wonder I turned out this normal.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” he joked. “But I’d love to meet them one day.”

  “One day.”

  The rest of the farmhouse was as lived in and homey as the kitchen. She had visited quite a few times since her and Simon’s first kiss but rarely ventured past the kitchen. They usually spent their time in Simon’s separate cottage, which was on the farmland but removed enough to feel like its own home.

  They stopped when they came to a small, oak door at the end of the hallway. Paddy scampered past them, his tongue lolling in excitement as Ellie pursued him, almost knocking them both off their feet.

  “It’s a bit small,” he explained almost apologetically as he opened the door. “But I think it’ll be comfortable enough for you.”

  Liz looked at what would be her new home for the next week or so and instantly loved it. The curtains and the fresh bedding were both white with powder blue detail. The light oak furniture added to the lightness of the space. It reminded her of a bed and breakfast, and was exactly how she had imagined her own room would look before moving to Scarlet Cove.

  “It’s perfect,” Liz said, stepping in and dropping her bag on the bed. “I love it.”

  Simon walked over and placed the carriers next to Liz’s backpack. He tweaked at the curtains, his cottage coming into view in the distance. The suggestion to stay there together had not come up. Liz wondered if it was because Sandra and John had traditional views or because Simon was respectful. Either way, she liked that they had allowed her to have her own space for the duration of her stay.

  “If you need help, you can send me a Morse code signal,” Simon laughed as he let the curtain drop into place. His eyes darted down to a sketchpad that had fallen out of the plastic bag and onto the bed. “Working on anything good?”

  Simon flicked through a handful of sketches before landing on the page Liz hoped he would skip past. He turned it the right way up, homing in on Katelyn’s name in the middle, with the names of her art club leading from it.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, her tone defensive. “But I know it’s someone from the club, I just don’t know who.”

  “You’ve put Nancy’s name here,” he said, his brows furrowing together. “She’s not a murderer. How can you be so sure it was someone from your group?”

  “I have a feeling.”

  “Oh, Liz,” Simon said with a frown. “Maybe you should leave it to the police this time? I know you’re more than capable of figuring it out, but after what happened at Halloween, I couldn’t bear anything happening to you.”

  “Nothing will happen to me,” she said as she took the sketchpad from Simon before snapping it shut. “It’s only notes. My mind was working overtime while I was packing so I scribbled them down to get it out. I’m not going to do anything with it, but it doesn’t take away from the fact someone did kill Katelyn at the opening of an exhibit featuring my club’s art. Who else would even have a motive?”

  “She wasn’t popular, was she?” Simon replied. “Anyone could have done it.”

  “And the paint?” Liz tossed the sketchpad onto the bed and crossed her arms. “It’s a statement, most likely revenge for something, and the art group isn’t exactly lacking motives after she ruined our opening.”

  Simon sighed heavily, and for a moment, Liz thought he was going to walk out of the room, leaving her alone with her notes. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in. He stared deeply into her pale eyes, his gaze softening.

  “You really care about this stuff, don’t you?” he whispered.

  “Old habits die hard.”

  Simon leaned in and kissed her on the lips, and for that brief moment, the murder melted away. Ellie appeared in the doorway, bursting the blissful bubble.

  “Ew!” the little girl exclaimed with a screwed-up face. “That’s gross!”

  Simon gave her a stern look, causing her to giggle and dart off again, Paddy trailing behind. A rapturous chorus of ‘
Liz and Simon sitting in a tree’ echoed down the narrow corridor.

  “Well, at least one good thing has come from this,” Simon said as they both sat on the edge of the bed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nancy will be keeping her job after all,” Simon replied. “She was distraught when Katelyn fired her.”

  “Fired?”

  “Didn’t she tell you?”

  “I haven’t seen her since the gallery.”

  “Oh,” Simon said, his cheeks blushing as though he had said something he should not have. “It’s not my news to tell you, but after I’d finished talking on the phone with my parents, I went to fill up my cheese tray. On my way back, I saw everyone leaving the gallery. I bumped into Nancy. She was sobbing. She said Katelyn had fired her for being the one behind the exhibit. I’m sure she was going to tell you, not that it matters now. She might keep her job after all.”

  Liz did not like the uneasy thoughts that were flooding her mind, but she tried to subdue her suspicions. Even though she had written Nancy’s name as a suspect, it had been a technicality because she was part of the group.

  “Don’t,” Simon said. “Just don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Think Nancy killed her!” Simon cried, suddenly standing up. “I’ve known her my whole life. You know her, Liz. She’s not capable of something so horrific, and don’t think for a second that she is.”

  “I know,” Liz said, her tone unsure. “It’s a process of elimination.”

  “A process that belongs to the police,” he reminded her. “And last time I checked, you like reminding people of your retired status.”

  Before they could talk about it any further, Ellie and Paddy returned to whisk Liz away so she could finally meet her teddy bear counterpart. After a pretend tea party in the little girl’s bedroom, Sandra came in to put Ellie to bed, much to her disappointment. Liz’s assurance that they would continue the tea party tomorrow seemed to settle her, leaving Liz to return to her bedroom alone after turning down Sandra’s invitation to join them in the sitting room by the fire for a game of gin rummy.