When she knocked on the door to the room, she was surprised when the person who answered it was not her uncle, but Westley. He looked just as excited as he had before at the prospect of talking about someone's death. His enthusiasm didn’t make her very comfortable, but she didn’t want to go back on her offer and ask him to leave. He was just beginning to settle in at the nursing home, and she didn't want to discourage him from making friends.
“We made tea,” her uncle called out from the small kitchenette. “Do you want some, Autumn?”
“I'll take a cup, sure,” she said. She walked over to the couch where her Aunt Lucy was sitting and bent down to give the older woman a hug. When she straightened up, she turned to Westley and shook his hand. “It's nice to see you again. Do you like it here?”
“I do, more than I expected I would,” he said. “Thanks for asking, Amelia.”
“It's Autumn,” she corrected gently.
“I'm sorry. My memory isn't what it used to be. That's part of the reason that my family thought it would be a good idea if I moved in here. They were worried I would burn the house down. Which, to be fair, is something that I almost did more than once.”
“Well, there's no risk of that here, not when you’ve got me to do all of the cooking for you,” she said, smiling. “How is everyone treating you?”
“A bit too much like a celebrity,” he said. “Your uncle here is one of the only ones that doesn't treat me differently.”
“That's only because I've never picked up one of your books,” Uncle Albert replied, walking over with a cup of tea in his hand, which he set down on the coffee table in front of Autumn. “I prefer nonfiction myself.”
He took a seat in an armchair across from his wife, and Westley took the last remaining chair. He folded his hands neatly in front of him, waiting for her to launch into her story.
Uncle Albert cleared his throat and said, “So what exactly happened, Autumn? You found a body today?”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath, then told them the same story she had told Nick that morning. By the time she had finished, Westley was leaning forward in his chair, deeply engaged. Lucy had her good hand resting on Autumn's arm, and her uncle looked concerned.
“The police don't know what happened to him?” he asked.
“I'm sure they know more now, but they aren't telling me. They have no reason to give me special information. I didn't know him that well, and I was just one of many witnesses to see the body. I'm going to have to wait for news just like everyone else.”
“Do you suspect foul play?” Westley asked.
“I have no idea,” Autumn said. “I don't like to think that someone killed him, but what else could have happened? I suppose he could have been walking and slipped on something, but he would have had to also have hit his head pretty hard on something on the way down. The Green River would be hard to drown in otherwise.”
“Just how well did you know him?”
“We went on one date,” she said. “I ran into him a couple of times other than that.” Literally, she thought. She had almost run him over twice.
“Is it possible he had a wife you didn't know about, when she found out about your date she took it out on him?”
“Possible, I suppose, but he was pretty open about his life and in such a small town, it would be difficult for him to get away with an affair.”
“Where did he work?”
“He worked for the city,” she said. “He did tax assessment type stuff, I think.”
“Maybe he made an enemy while doing his job,” Westley mused, leaning back in his chair. “People don't always like tax assessors very much. If his assessment caused someone’s taxes to rise, that could be motive right there.”
“I doubt Autumn wants to go over all of this,” her uncle said. “It just happened. We should give her some time.”
“I don't mind,” Autumn said. “I didn't think I wanted to talk about it at first but hashing out the details like this helps me a bit, I think. It's very matter of fact.”
“All right,” Uncle Al said, raising his hands in surrender. “I guess you know best. It is interesting. I don't think anyone's ever died in that park before. There was one person that drowned a few miles further down the river a few years back, wasn’t there? I remember reading about it when I was deciding where Lucy and I would live.”
“I think I know what you're talking about,” Autumn said. “It was a young woman who drowned. She had been drinking and fell out of the boat, and no one noticed until her kayak was washed ashore the next day. I doubt that's related to what happened to Jessie, though.”
“How long do you think he was in the river?” Westley asked suddenly.
“I have no idea,” she said. “Why?”
“Is it possible he fell in while the river was still frozen over, and his body only now turned up?”
“No,” she said. “He texted me just a few days ago. That was after the snow had already melted.”
I wonder if he ever called Bonnie, she thought. She felt a jolt, realizing that Alicia's friend might have even had time to go a date with him. She would be devastated to learn about this. It would be better if she heard about it in person, instead of from the news.
“I think I should get going,” she said. “I have some calls to make, and then I have to start getting ready for dinner. I'll see you guys while you're eating, and I'll say goodbye before I leave tonight, okay?”
“Are you sure you're all right?” her uncle asked. “I know I can’t do much, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me.”
“I know,” she said. “Thanks, Uncle Al. Thank you too, Aunt Lucy. I know you're both here for me.”
She squeezed her aunt’s hand, then said her goodbyes to Albert and Westley. It wasn’t until she was out in the hallway that she wondered if Westley still wrote. Would Jessie's death turn up in one of his books? He’s probably retired, she thought. If his memory was going, then he probably wasn’t able to write much anymore.
It must be difficult for him, she thought as she made her way toward the kitchen. He had spent his life creating worlds in his mind, and now he couldn’t even trust his own thoughts. It was a sad thought, but one that she would have to get used to if she was going to keep working in Asheville Meadows. While she, Nick, and the rest of the staff did what they could to make life worth living for the residents, there was no getting around the fact that each and every one of them had lost their freedom. In another forty years, she might be there herself. There are worse places to end up, she thought as she hopped up onto one of the stools in the kitchen and pulled out her cell phone. She would be grateful to make it to eighty in the first place. Jessie’s death had been a powerful reminder that not everyone got there.
CHAPTER SIX
* * *
She called Alicia to get Bonnie’s number, wanting to deliver the news herself. Her friend had her own opinion on the matter, which she didn’t hesitate to voice.
“I think we should invite ourselves over and tell her in person,” she said. “She went on a date with him, I know that much. She's going to be crushed to learn that he's dead. She's not tough, like you. She's going to take this hard.”
“If you think that’s best. You know her better than I do. Should we do it tonight? I can stop by after dinner.”
“Definitely. I’m sure it will be all over the news tomorrow.”
Autumn said her goodbyes and hung up the phone, feeling slightly hurt by her friend’s earlier comment. Did Alicia not think that Jessie’s death was hard for her? Autumn had been crushed when she realized who he was. She didn't think that she was all that tough, and she certainly couldn’t brush off the death of an acquaintance so easily.
After dinner, Autumn went straight over to Alicia's. Her friend had gone out and picked up some soup and other comfort foods and had a paper bag filled with supplies waiting by the door.
“In case she doesn't feel like leaving her house for a couple of days,” Alicia
explained. “When her fish – a beautiful Oscar that she had for ten years – died, she didn't come to book club for almost a month. Trust me when I say she needs this.”
“I believe you,” Autumn said. “What did you tell her about why we are coming over?”
“Just that we needed to talk to her about something. Are you ready? I thought we could drive together, unless you wanted to take your own car for some reason.”
“I'm fine with that,” Autumn said. “We'll drive together, and we can stay for a couple of hours if she needs it. You should tell me about their date while we head over. I’m curious, but I don’t want to bring it up while we’re there in case talking about it makes things worse.”
“Help me carry all of this out to the car, first, then I will. There’s another bag on the counter over there.”
Autumn hefted the second bag and peeked inside; it contained a bunch of movies and a collection of books. She felt a rush of warmth toward her friend. Alicia cared so deeply about her friends and was willing to go to such great lengths for them. I wish I could be more like that, she thought.
“I can't believe you did all of this even though you’re sick,” she said.
“It's important to stand by your friends,” Alicia said. “I know you’d do the same for me if I was going through something hard.”
Once they got everything packed into the car and were on their way, Alicia started talking about the date. “From what she told me, it was great. They met for lunch and spent a long time talking. Bonnie told me that it turned out that they knew some of the same people from work, and Jessie liked a lot of the same books that she did. She was so happy, Autumn. This is going to destroy her.”
Bonnie’s house was near the center of town, only a few blocks away from the park. As they pulled up, Autumn thought it looked like the perfect little house for a bookish woman who lived alone.
Alicia knocked, and Bonnie opened the door, looking apprehensive. “You're both here,” she said, raising her eyebrows and looking between Autumn and Alicia. Autumn wondered if Alicia had told Bonnie that she was coming along as well. “Come on in.”
The interior of Bonnie’s house was cluttered but clean. She had a lot of books on every surface, and Autumn spotted a couple of Westley Phillips’ mysteries laying prominently on the coffee table. She must be reading them again in anticipation of meeting him, she thought.
“We have some bad news,” Alicia said. “I’ll let Autumn tell you.”
Autumn shot a half-hearted glare at her friend, then gathered herself and, bracing for Bonnie's reaction, said, “Jessie passed away. His body was found in the park, along the Green River. I don't know yet what happened, but the police are working on it. They might even have some answers by now.”
Bonnie stared at her for a long moment, then sat on heavily in a chair. “Oh, my,” she breathed. “You're… you're sure it was him?”
“I'm sure,” Autumn said. “The police identified him.”
“When he didn't call me after our date, I thought it was because he didn't like me. That was bad enough, but this is so much worse.”
“We thought you would want to hear it in person, instead of seeing it on the news,” Alicia said. “I’m sorry to surprise you like this, but I wasn't sure what to say on the phone.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “This is all so fast. I… I don't know how to feel, or what to say.”
“I'm sorry,” Autumn said. “If you want to talk about it later, you can call me, no matter how late it is.”
Both she and Bonnie had gone on one date with Jessie, and she thought that they might be able to comfort each other. Even though they hadn't been close to him, a sudden death like his was still a shock. If Bonnie had really liked him, then it would be even worse for her. Would she ever be able to stop wondering what their future might have looked like?
Autumn and Alicia stayed for a while longer, heating some of the food up for Bonnie and ensuring that she would be all right. Seeing someone else grieve for Jessie made his death all that much more poignant for her, and she felt a lump in her throat as they said goodbye to Bonnie at the end of their visit.
After getting back to Alicia's house, she got into her own car and left for home. Alicia's voice had started getting hoarse again, and she had begun coughing even worse than before; Autumn suspected that her friend wanted nothing more than to get some sleep.
At home, Autumn curled up on the couch with Frankie at her feet and pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Nick.
Thanks for being so understanding today, she wrote. I'm so grateful to Emily for taking over for me.
A moment later, he texted back; Of course. And yes, she's been doing a great job so far. I should give her a raise. Do you want to get together this evening?
Autumn hesitated. Earlier in the day, she had wanted to be surrounded by people, but now, she felt the desire to be alone. Sometimes she knew it was important to just take the time to feel bad about something. Staying in, drinking the last of the hot chocolate, and eating junk food before bed would probably do wonders for her emotional state.
Not tonight, she texted back. We’re still on for our date this weekend though, right?
He confirmed it, and Autumn put her phone down, glad that she had her relationship with Nick. Between dating him and having the job of her dreams – well, close to it – her life really had turned around. As far as she knew, she still had her entire life ahead of her to fulfill her dreams. That was something that Jessie didn't have any longer. With that depressing thought, she went into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate.
CHAPTER SEVEN
* * *
After making breakfast at the nursing home the next morning, Autumn went home to take Frankie on a quick walk around the block. Being able to take a mental break from her job once or twice a day was good for her, she decided. Especially now, with Jessie's death hanging over her like a dark cloud.
She had checked the news first thing that morning but hadn't seen anything that she hadn’t already known. The local channel had reported on the fact that a body had been found in the park, but that was it. They hadn't even released his identity, and she wondered if his family had been notified yet. That had been a dangerous train of thought, and she had forced herself to focus on something else. She didn't want to think about what Jessie's parents or siblings would feel when they learned about his passing. She just hoped that they would manage to find some sort of peace eventually.
“That's all for today, sweetie,” she said to the little dog when they got back to the house. “Maybe we'll go to the woods this weekend. I'll bring your long leash, and we can play fetch.”
Frankie didn't play fetch in the traditional manner. Rather, she would steal the ball and run around with it like crazy before dropping it somewhere, leaving Autumn to find it and throw it again. It served to exercise both of them, and Frankie had fun, so Autumn didn’t mind in the slightest.
Before she left for work, she sent a text to Alicia, asking how Bonnie was doing. When she pulled into the parking lot, she paused to read the response.
No idea. Lost my voice. Haven't been able to call anyone.
Autumn sent her condolences and promised to call Bonnie herself the next day if neither of them had heard anything by then. For Bonnie’s sake, she was glad that she hadn't known Jessie for longer before his passing. From what Autumn had seen the evening before, the other woman was taking his death every bit as hard as Alicia had predicted, and she had barely known him. If they had been in a relationship for months or even years before he died, it would have been much, much worse.
She’d been so distracted by texting Alicia that she didn't notice the police cars until she got out of her own vehicle and began walking toward the nursing home. There were two of them parked near the entrance to the home. Autumn frowned. Her first concern was for the residents; had someone passed away after she left for her break? She didn’t see an ambulance, but it very well could have come and g
one already.
Her heart pounding, Autumn hurried through the doors. She spotted a member of the staff, a young man named Kevin, and made a beeline toward him.
“What's going on?” she asked. “I saw the police outside. Is everyone okay?”
“They wanted to talk to Mr. Holt about something,” Kevin said. “I've got no idea what about, but everyone here is fine.”
“Thank goodness,” she said.
She let Kevin get back to work and shot a glance towards Nick's office. The door was shut and the blinds were drawn. Frowning, she went into the kitchen, and put her purse on the counter. What did the police want with him? Was this related to Jessie's death somehow? She couldn't see why they would want to question him in relation to what had happened to Jessie, but it was the only thing she could think of. Everything she knew about Nick made her believe that he was a genuinely good person, and she couldn't imagine him being involved in a serious crime.
Dating Is Murder Page 3
