by Tess Rothery
"Who invited that one?" Grandpa Ernie huffed into his mustache.
"He just popped by." Since Graham was bringing Grandma Quinny on his heels, Taylor didn't want to take the blame.
"Hey, Graham good to see you," Jonah said. "Grab a seat. Make yourself comfortable."
"Ha, ha." Graham tapped his cane with each laugh.
"Oh man. Sorry.” Jonah had the decency to blush. "How are you feeling? That was a real bummer. No pun intended."
"I haven't been worse. I could lie and say I have, but then I would miss out on some of the sympathy I could otherwise get.” He glanced at Taylor, with wide, red, unfocused eyes. His pupils were tiny pin pricks, a sign of opiate use, Taylor recalled from some health class or other in her youth. "But really, I haven't been worse. Taking a bullet to the ass is not for wimps.” He leaned heavily on his cane.
Grandpa Ernie huffed into his mustache again.
Taylor had never heard her grandfather swear. Not even the little ones like crap. She stopped to think…she hadn't heard him say poop or fart or any bathroom words either. Interesting. She’d never thought of her family as particularly straightlaced, but hearing Graham say ass in the presence of her estimable grandfather was jarring.
"You sure know how to make yourself welcome in new places." Stephanie moved to Grandpa Ernie and offered her hand. "It's lovely to meet you. Despite his current mood, Graham has spoken very highly of you, sir.”
Grandpa Ernie had always been a sucker for pretty ladies. Stephanie, with her elegant, angular figure in a crisp sports jacket and high waisted, sailor cut bellbottoms that swung about her slim legs like pants are meant to swing, was a Katherine Hepburn type. Grandpa Ernie’s favorite. The old tailor couldn’t help but love anyone who looked good in a well-cut suit.
"We can't choose our family, can we?" Grandpa Ernie wrapped Stephanie’s hand warmly in both of his for a moment before he had to grab his walker again."
"I hate to be a pest,” Stephanie directed this comment to Taylor. “And I made this man promise he wouldn't be bothering you all. But I really do have to run. Is it okay if I leave him in your care? He has one of those special inflatable seats for car rides but is on pain medicine and the doctor does not want him to drive himself. It’s only that I have to pick up my daughter from a school event in Corvallis. I can be a little late for the sake of her favorite uncle, but I hate to make her wait in this weather."
"Wish you could stay here, and he could go get the kid." Grandpa Ernie laughed.
"You're welcome to come with me." Stephanie’s smile held genuine affection. "Good company improves long drives."
Grandpa Ernie chuckled as he inched himself over to one of the unwelcoming armchairs and settled in as best as he could. "Not this time, miss. They promised to feed me and I'm not leaving till they do."
"I don't blame you, sir.” She gave her brother a side hug and slipped out before anyone had promised to take custody of Graham.
"She didn't bring me my donut, did she?" Graham stared through the archway as though he was measuring the miles between the parlor and the front hall. But in a moment, Stephanie was back with a duffel bag, the inflated donut, and a coffee from Starbucks.
She set these items, except for the coffee which she handed to Graham, on the floor by the door. “Taylor, I really am sorry to pop in and out like this. Graham has my number. Make him text me when he's been too much trouble and I’ll get here soon as I can.”
"I can't imagine it's going to be a problem.” Taylor’s face heated up. “It was really nice to meet you." She was flustered and felt in her heart that this was a problem, but she couldn't put words to why. Somehow him showing up with Stephanie, and Grandpa Ernie flirting with her, and Graham seeming a little bit stoned from his pain medicine didn't match the romantic picture she'd had of nursing him back to health. For one thing, they were in the wrong house. And she was supposed to be here helping Grandpa Ernie adjust. Sitting in his bedroom at the Quinn strawberry farm, she’d felt sure that her grandpa ought to stay at the farm, but now that she was back here, she knew he needed to be with Belle. This dramatic back and forth swinging of her mind was unsettling. And then he said her grandmother was coming. It was all too much.
"Thanks for rolling with this. You seem like you're going to live up to the stories Graham’s told about you. And trust me, that's rare."
Taylor carried the inflatable seat cushion into the parlor and set it on one of the armchairs.
Jonah followed her with one of the velvet benches. "With Belle down in the dungeon now’s my chance to haul this furniture to the parlor where it belongs. The front hall of a grand house should have a big round table with an absurd bouquet of flowers, not a seating area. Or maybe a grand piano. That would actually make some pretty cool content. But can I convince Belle of that? Nope." The bench bumped its way across the floor as Jonah dragged it behind him.
The large front door could hardly be said to fling, and yet it opened so quickly that a burst of air sent a cold wind all the way into the parlor and flickered the gas flames. "Belle?" Grandma Quinny's voice bounced around the room as though it had been designed for her. She stopped, hearing the sound of her own voice, Taylor assumed, and glanced around.
Jonah ran to the door to welcome her. "This way, please." He grabbed the arm of the other antique bench as he passed it.
Graham seemed to waver in his spot like a reed blowing in the wind. “Ingrid Quinn. Ing. Ger. Id. Co. Win.” He over-enunciated her name. “The Grandmother Quinny from the Quinn Family Strawberry Farm.”
Taylor thought if she heard him say Quinn one more time, she would… She wasn’t sure what she would do but this was very embarrassing.
“Pain medicine,” Taylor said to her grandmother.
Grandma Quinny nodded. “A necessary evil.”
Graham glanced behind him and spotted the inflatable donut. He inched his way over and sat. “Oh, that’s not good.” He shifted. “I’m serious. That is not good. That hurts like a bullet in your ass.”
If hearing him say ass in front of her grandfather was bad, saying it in front of Grandma Quinny was a nightmare.
But Grandma Quinny didn’t react. “How are you feeling young man?” She seemed to float over to the sitting area and then took a seat in the other armchair across from Grandpa Ernie and diagonal from Graham.
“Can you believe this was the first time I’ve ever been shot? I know a lot of people might’ve wanted to through the years. And not just Stephanie, though she probably deserves a chance. But this really hurts, and they’ve got me on those pills they don’t like people to take. In fact, they only gave me ten so I don’t know what I’m gonna do after dinner.” He lifted his eyebrows and grinned at his joke.
“If you run out, we’ve got a little something from our last visit to Canada.” Grandma Quinny waved away his concern.
Graham adjusted himself in his seat and leaned forward. He sighed, then winced. Leaning had momentarily relieved pressure on his rear end but increase the pain in his hip. “I know why you’re here. I would be too. It’s not so easy to get information out of the police, even with a press card.”
“Sheriff’s office,” Grandma Quinny and Taylor corrected Graham at the same time. They glanced at each other and exchanged surprised smiles.
“It was arsenic,” Graham said. “That’s what did her in. Acute arsenic poisoning, in fact. No evidence of her having been taking it for a long time. Poison’s a woman’s weapon.” Each of his words had come out slowly as though through molasses. It was mesmerizing to watch but it did worry Taylor. He closed his eyes and tilted to the side slowly. “This does not feel good.”
“Insurance companies send people home far too early. I’m glad we were able to get you a little extra time after you were injured last fall.” Grandma Quinny looked Taylor up and down as though assessing an investment. “Jonah, you need to get this man to a bed. You do have an elevator, correct?” She looked around the parlor and then leaned so she could look through the a
rchway. When she spotted what appeared to be the door to what could be an elevator she brightened. “Aha. You help me get him up, Taylor. We’re going to find one of those bedrooms and put this boy to bed.”
“You don’t need the elevator,” Jonah said. “We have a perfectly good bedroom down here. Belle and I can sleep upstairs.”
Taylor helped Graham stand and she and Grandma Quinny each took an arm. Jonah grabbed his cane and his things from the hall and led them to the back of the house. Two identical master bedroom suites flanked the family room in that addition.
Despite the house belonging to Jonah and the man being Taylor's… boyfriend? She hoped that was okay. He was certainly the man she loved, Grandma Quinny had taken charge. She lowered Graham onto the bed and quickly rolled him to his left side. Then she unlaced his shoes and slipped them off. There was a coverlet folded on the end of the bed. She pulled that up and laid it gently over him. The room was cold, so she flipped on the switch to the gas fireplace. "Let him rest. Asha will be here soon, and we have work to do."
With her trademarked speed and efficiency, Grandma Quinny was down the hall headed back to the parlor before Taylor could formulate the question, which was simply, Asha's coming?
She caught up with her grandmother and asked.
"Yes. We've been so carried away with discovering which disgusting old man was dating what age-inappropriate young woman, that we delayed asking foundational questions. We need to know how Molly spent the day before she was killed, who she’d been with, and who last saw her alive. And now that we know she died of arsenic poisoning, those questions are even more important."
Chapter Twenty
Asha arrived moments after they put Graham to bed, but she wasn't alone. "Thank you, oh my gosh, thank you. I'm so happy that Serge could come with us. I mean with me, I mean, I'm not happy. Nothing about this is happy but…" Asha’s eyes sparkled.
She was an engaging little thing. Taylor was rather glad Graham was sleeping off his pain medicine in the other room. It was bad enough watching Grandpa Ernie light up at the bright young woman's entrance into the parlor.
Serge offered his hand to Grandma Quinny. “Someone has to keep Zsa Zsa, I mean Asha, from taking your terrible advice and doing something else dangerous."
Taylor did not disagree. Considering Graham was lying in bed with the bullet wound, and the bullet wound had only come because they had gotten Asha abducted, Serge was right to mistrust any of their natural inclinations.
Belle came upstairs via the elevator and rolled a cart of food into the parlor. She stopped at the site of Grandma Quinny, Asha, and Serge. "Welcome. I wasn't expecting all of you." She glanced at her cart spilling with food.
"Apparently this is a party house, young lady." Grandpa Ernie had a hint of pride in his voice.
"We are most certainly not here to party, sir," Serge said. "The ladies of this family seem to think they’re detectives."
"Seem to think?” Grandma Quinny sounded more sarcastic than Taylor had ever heard her before. "You have been around for every single murder that my granddaughter has solved for you people. I would like you to show a little respect. Especially as you are a guest in Belle and Jonah's home.”
Serge’s face twitched. It looked as though it might take effort to stand up to Grandma Quinny.
"Don't mind him." Asha giggled just a little. "I'm nervous. I invited him. To be honest, even though I'm up for anything, I’m a little scared. But Ingrid wanted to know things about what Molly was doing the day she died. I think she must've been at school that day? Right? Because it was a Thursday, the day before, and she's a kindergarten teacher’s helper or aid or something.”
The look Serge gave Asha was too full of love to technically be condescending, and yet Taylor thought if some man looked at her that way, she would punch him right in the nose and hope it hurt.
“We've determined she did go to work on Thursday before she was killed. But it was half-day morning kindergarten. We know that she went straight from her apartment to the school at 7:30 am. After that, she was seen leaving town in her car. We've tried to trace her from that point but have had little luck.” He cleared his throat again as he looked around the room.
Jonah was the youngest in the room, but Serge, despite his badge and literal authority, seemed the least secure. He stood and then sat down again on the edge of his seat. "At first her sister said that she came by the house and spent a little time with them."
"Kelly lied about her sister's movements?" Taylor couldn’t fathom what would make her do that, unless of course, she was protecting someone else.
"We don't think she lied," Serge offered. “Kelly told us her sister had come by to spend some time with them, but that she and the boy weren't home. What really happened is pretty simple. Molly texted her sister saying she would like to come over and see them. Kelly didn't see the text because her phone was dead. She assumed her sister had come by but didn’t stay, since they were gone.”
"That's understandable," Grandma Quinny allowed. "Asha, you say she was your best friend. What did she usually do on her afternoons off?" Asha was seated next to Serge on the edge of the bench leaning forward, looking ready to jump to action, but she didn't get a chance to respond.
"What are you asking her for?" Grandpa Ernie interjected. "She don’t have the sense God gave a goose."
Those bright eyes of Asha’s, Taylor realized, were shining because they were full of tears.
Asha was so incredibly nervous. She swallowed a few times but didn't give in to the urge to cry. "I wouldn't say Molly had a regular schedule. She did all sorts of things. Sometimes she and I went out. I like to go to Sacred Grounds because of the charity stuff they do. But Molly liked a café not far from her place, I mean her old place where Kelly and Larry live. Her Main Man introduced it to her to break her Starbucks habit. Gosh, I guess we can say his name now, can't we? Jack Groening took her there. They made her favorite coffee. So sometimes we’d go all the way back to her old neighborhood when we were hanging out together. But other times she’d go with Coco or Jack or I guess maybe she’d go see Charles, but you know," Asha shook her head, "I don't think she went to see Charles that day. I mean, I feel like I kinda know him now, you know? He didn’t seem like he saw her before she died."
Serge patted Asha’s knee. “We've been talking to Charles. He hasn't tried to post bail yet, so he's still in the jail. He seems content to be there, actually."
“Charles is a weird guy," Asha said. "Like, a really weird guy, I mean you know how Molly is dead?"
Taylor and Grandma Quinny caught each other's eye again, but neither of them made a sound.
"Charles see, his wife is dead too and, I mean, I have blonde hair, but Molly had dark hair.” She nodded as though she wanted to get them to agree.
A moment of silence passed.
She furrowed her pale eyebrows. "Sorry, you didn’t know his dead wife had red hair. And I kind of felt like maybe like maybe he was making a collection."
"You think he killed his wife and Molly?" Taylor was having trouble following Asha’s train of thought. She was the first person to want to give this kid the benefit of the doubt, but it was a trial listening to her.
"His wife got hit by a bus. That was really weird, but he wasn't the bus driver, and he wasn't even there, so it's not like he pushed her in front of it or anything. She just she got hit by a bus, right? I think it might've made him weird if he wasn't weird already. So anyway, he went online. I should say he met his wife online ages ago. A memo board thing.”
“Message board,” Serge corrected softly.
“Yes! That’s right. Eons ago. He met her on a memo board. He told me that's why he likes Coco's friends, because it was like the old days but much easier. It’s funny, I can see you guys don’t really get it, but when we were talking, it all made sense. He made sense to me.” She held both hands up apologetically.
"He told you a lot about his life while you were with him.” Serge’s dark eyebrows were
pulled closely together in concentration.
"I kept him talking as much as I could. So anyway, his wife got hit by a bus, and that was pretty devastating, and I think it must have made him weird. His counselor told him he had to get right back in the saddle, but what I mean by right back in the saddle…” she blushed. “I mean like he just should start dating again. It took him a couple of years, he said, but I saw a picture of her and him in the house and he didn’t have any gray hair yet and so I wonder if he was lying. Like maybe it was way more time. Like ten years even. When he decided to start dating again, he used A Friend of Coco’s because the old memo board thing didn’t even exist anymore.”
She paused for breath and looked around as though seeking approval.
Taylor nodded at her. “I’m beginning to see the picture.” She wasn’t, but she was sure if Asha kept talking they could get to the bottom of it.
Asha’s shoulders went down a notch as she relaxed. “So, then he started taking out Molly, and Molly had really dark hair. Which he mentioned. I wouldn't have mentioned it to you guys if he hadn’t, I swear. He also mentioned his wife was a redhead. Then he pointed out that Molly had really dark hair and that I was a blonde and he could tell it was a natural blonde because of my eyebrows.” She looked around the room again stopping at Grandma Quinny. "I know you think that is stupid. I know you don't think that what I'm saying is important. And I know I sound confused. But give me half a second to finish my thought before you reject it please." Asha had slowed down and taken a few deep breaths and she sounded much better.
Taylor wished the girl would think a little before she spoke as well. If she could just organize her thought’s, she wouldn’t be constantly coming across people who thought she was empty headed.
"He talked a lot about his dead wife for a first date, which you have to admit is weird,” Asha stated clearly.
On this, everyone in the room agreed.
“Then, instead of taking me to the restaurant, he drove the wrong direction and told me all about his last girlfriend Molly, who was also dead. My first thought was that calling her his girlfriend was pretty weird. They’d hardly known each other, as far as I was aware, and he certainly wasn’t her main man. And then he said he would hate it if anything happened to me because even though we just met he really felt like I completed his picture," she said all of that so slowly and carefully that the whole room was transfixed.
