03 Murder by Mishap (13 page)

“Ed, something terrible has happened. Virginia’s dead.”

Chapter Twelve

Edna was stunned, shaken fully awake in an instant. Holding the phone to her ear, she’d heard what Peg said, but couldn’t quite believe it. She was speechless.

“Ed?” Peg’s voice, still unnerved, rose to a near shrill. “Ed, are you there? Speak to me. Say something.”

Finally, Edna said, “I’m here, Peg, but I don’t know what to say. Try to calm down. Take a few deep breaths and tell me what happened. Can you do that?”

She listened to the faint sounds of Peg’s breathing for nearly half a minute. When her friend spoke again, she still sounded anxious but more composed.

“After lunch with Renee and Guy this afternoon, Virginia said she wasn’t feeling well and went upstairs to lie down. I told her to take an antacid and that I would clean up the kitchen. I didn’t want her worrying about it. You know how she is.”

Edna agreed as to how conscientious Virginia was, or had been. “Were Renee and Guy still with you?”

“Oh,” Peg said, sounding as if she’d forgotten them and, after a slight pause as if to remember, said. “No. They left before Virginia said anything about feeling queasy. Stephen had gone back to work, too.”

“Stephen? Was he at lunch with you?”

“Yes. He almost never comes home before six in the evening, but apparently he needed something from his desk here at the house. He was surprised to find I had guests. Of course I introduced him to the
Froissards
, and then there was all this explaining to do about how we grew up together. I hoped he’d remember it was their mother who had been accused of stealing the brooch we found the other day and not say anything embarrassing. He’s been so obsessed about that pin, I was afraid he’d mention it.” Her voice began to quiver with stress, so she stopped talking to take a deep breath before continuing. “I expected him to go back to work once he’d said hello. I still can’t believe he decided to stay and eat with us. Thank goodness, Virginia always prepares more than enough food.”

“If he came home at that hour, he probably would have expected to stay for lunch with you, wouldn’t he?”

“Well, yes, I supposed he might have thought so, but I was certain he’d change his mind when he found I had company. He’s never been comfortable with strangers.”

Or with people he knows
, Edna thought, remembering how withdrawn Stephen was whenever she and Albert spent time with the Bishops. At parties, he usually searched out a quiet corner. Around a dinner table, he concentrated on his food and made only the most cursory comments to anything his dinner partners said. As a result, the Bishops’ friends who still invited them to parties learned to talk over and around him. “How did he behave with the
Froissards
?” Edna was very curious over Stephen’s apparent behavioral about-face.

“Fortunately, he was attentive to everything that was said and even joined in the conversation occasionally. Can you believe it?”

Sensing her friend had calmed down enough to return to the main reason for her
call,
Edna refrained from commenting on Peg’s rhetorical question and said hesitantly, “So, you and Virginia were alone when she went to her room to rest?”

“Alone in the house, yes.
Goran
was in the yard, of course. He’d come in earlier for his lunch, about an hour before he left to drive down to your place. Virginia ate in the dining room with us.”

“But you say she’s dead?” Edna’s remark came out as a question. She was still having trouble believing she’d heard correctly. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Peg’s voice began to rise with emotion again.

“Slow down,” Edna warned. “Deep breaths, remember.”

Obediently, Peg again took several seconds before resuming in a calmer, but still slightly quivering voice. “When she hadn’t come downstairs by five thirty, I went up to check on her.” she paused again to take several shaky breaths. “She looked awful and apparently had spent most of the afternoon in the bathroom. She complained of stomach cramps, so I got her another antacid. I made soup for dinner and brought her some on a tray. She said she still felt too nauseous to even look at it.”

“Did you call a doctor?”

“She didn’t want one. She said she was sure she’d be okay, just a bit of stomach flu, and not to bother.” Peg began to sob. Through her tears, she said, “Oh, Ed, I shouldn’t have listened to her. I should have called her doctor.”

“Don’t kick yourself, Peg,” Edna said sternly. “You weren’t to know.”

Slowly, Peg’s sniffles subsided. “I didn’t check on her again until I went up to bed after the eleven o’clock news. That’s when I found her.” Peg wasn’t crying, but it was a full minute before she managed to squeak out. “It was horrible.”

Edna waited helplessly for a long minute. When Peg still hadn’t said anything, Edna asked, “Where’s Stephen? Isn’t he with you?” She assumed Peg wouldn’t be on the phone if her husband were with her and wondered why he wasn’t holding her, trying to soothe away her grief.

“He’s at the police station,”
came
the tremulous reply.

Edna was confused.
“The police station?”

“Yes. When I found her, I phoned nine-one-one. The police showed up a few minutes before the ambulance arrived. After the medical team confirmed Virginia was dead and took her away, the police said they needed a statement. Stephen volunteered to go down to the station to answer their questions. He didn’t tell them that I was the one who found her. I stayed home to clean up her room. She had been horribly sick.”

“Was Stephen with you when you found her?”

“No. He was downstairs in his office, working on some papers he needed for a meeting.”

Edna was curious as to why Stephen would go to the police station,
then
realized he might have done so to get them out of the house, to give Peg some peace.
Maybe he has a heart after all
, she thought. Aloud, she said, “Would you like me to
come
stay with you?”

“That’s kind of you, Ed, but Geoff is on his way over. I called him before I phoned you and he insisted on coming immediately. Fortunately, his room is always ready for guests or I’m afraid he’d be sleeping on the floor.”

Speaking of her son’s eminent visit seemed to have calmed Peg further. Enough so that Edna thought she could talk more about what had happened that evening. “I suppose it’s too early to speculate what caused her death. Did they tell you when they’d expect to have the autopsy results?”

“They didn’t say, but I heard one of the police officers mention food poisoning. That can’t be, though.” Peg took a deep, ragged breath before starting again, but seemed to be gaining control of
herself
. “The police asked what we had eaten and if we’d all had the same thing. I told them yes, as far as I know. Do you suppose they think I’m hiding something because neither Stephen nor I feel sick?” She stopped speaking, and Edna could hear her breathing deeply and slowly.

“The questions are simple routine, I’m certain,” Edna said with conviction. She was wondering what else she could say to reassure her friend when Peg spoke up.

“Here’s Geoff now. I must go. Thank you for being you, Ed, and for listening to me.”

Before she hung up, Edna had time only to say, “Call me, if you need anything.”

Just as she put the receiver back into the cradle of the bedside phone, a bolt of lightning lit the room like a giant flashbulb going off. The blinding light was followed in three heartbeats by a crack of thunder so loud, Edna jumped. She was throwing back the covers to get out of bed when she saw a small shadowy figure dart through the door and across the carpet to disappear beneath the bed. Benjamin slept in the mudroom off the kitchen and was not usually allowed upstairs, but she didn’t say a word, knowing he’d feel comforted being near her while the storm raged outside.

She swung her feet off the bed and stood. Putting on her long velveteen robe, she cinched it around her waist as she walked to the window. The wind was pelting raindrops against the glass panes. As she watched from her second-floor window, another second-long flash of lightning illuminated the entire neighborhood. At that moment, she happened to be looking across at Jaycee’s house. When she saw a dark figure standing in the center of the driveway, her hand flew to her mouth, stifling an involuntary scream. It looked like a man and it looked like he was walking toward the steps to the front porch.

Immediately, she thought of dialing 911. Then she wondered if she should call Charlie instead. What if it wasn’t a man? What if it
were
Jaycee walking up to her house? No. Edna had seen the figure for a full second and, whoever it was, seemed larger than Jaycee. Considering for a moment, Edna thought of Mary. No, it hadn’t been her either. The figure had looked to be broader than Mary. Perhaps as tall, since Mary was nearly six feet, but she was lanky, not broad and muscular. The person in the driveway had been a fairly large man.

These thoughts sped through Edna’s mind as she remained staring out the window. Another flash of lightning, as bright and as long as the last, showed only an empty driveway. The figure had vanished.

Unsure what to do, Edna stood for another few minutes, watching as the lightning periodically spotlighted the neighborhood. Booming thunder that followed each pulsing glow of light did nothing to settle her nerves as she squinted through the rain-spattered window, trying to glimpse any movement outside the house across the street. Who would be walking around on a night like this? Should she call the police? Should she get Charlie out of bed for something that could turn out to be nothing at all? When eventually the lightning wasn’t as bright and the accompanying thunder not as deafening, Edna gave up trying to see through the darkness. The storm was moving off and as the world outside quieted, so did her nerves.

Still, knowing she would be unable to sleep, she left her room and was heading for the stairs when the door to Starling’s room opened and her daughter shuffled out in flannel pajamas and large, fluffy red slippers. With a wide yawn, she said, “Did the thunder wake you, too? What time is it, anyway?”

“Between half past one and two o’clock, I think. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like some?” Edna thought briefly of telling Starling about the figure she’d seen, but decided not to frighten her. Besides, she wasn’t even certain what exactly she’d seen or whom. She’d check on Jaycee at a more reasonable hour and make certain her neighbor was okay.

“Tea at this hour?
No way,” her daughter muttered, before turning around and stumbling back into her room. “
G’night
, Mom.”

Smiling at the memory Starling had invoked of a sleepy-headed girl of six, Edna padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Benjamin scooted past her and jumped onto the seat of a kitchen chair to settle down and watch as she filled the electric kettle with water and turned it on. Even with rain sheeting the windows, enough light shown from the street lamp to give adequate brightness to the room, so it wasn’t until she’d started the kettle that she reached for the light switch and flicked it on. Almost immediately, she shut it off again. On the slim chance someone was wandering around in the downpour, she didn’t want to be on display in a brightly lighted room.

While the water heated, Edna absently took a tea bag and put it into her favorite mug. In a few minutes, she added boiling water and stood at the kitchen sink, dunking the bag up and down while she gazed out the window at the dark, sodden night. Her mind was turning from an image of the figure in the driveway to one of Peg and Virginia. As her thoughts began to calm and settle on one mental picture, it was of Virginia in the Bishops’ kitchen.
Virginia preparing meals.
Virginia sitting at the kitchen table.
Virginia sipping a cup of tea.
Virginia sliding red rosary beads through her fingers.
Different times, different images, but
all of the
same stout woman in the Bishop’s kitchen. What could have happened that she was now dead? She’d referred to a weak heart, but she’d certainly seemed healthy enough when Edna last saw her two days ago. Another picture flashed unbidden through Edna’s head. Virginia slipping a sparkling brooch of red-white-and-blue gems into her apron pocket.

Images brought questions, both roiling in her head as Edna finished her tea and wandered back to bed. Tossing and turning, she dozed fitfully for the next few hours and was startled awake at 4:36 by the sound of tires crunching the broken shells on the driveway. Automobile noises were followed by a thwack against the front door. “Newspaper,” she murmured into her pillow and relaxed. The wind had died down, and she listened to the gently falling rain for the next twenty minutes before finally deciding she wasn’t going to get any more sleep, exhausted as she was.

Donning her robe, she plodded down the stairs and opened the front door. The newspaper was lying in a puddle and, although bagged, it was soaked through. When she picked it up, she noticed a square of paper lying on the stoop. Picking that up also, she realized it had been a hand-written note, until the water had made a mess of the ink.

She dumped the newspaper into the recycle bin, knowing it was too wet to bother reviving. Before tossing the note in with it, she looked more closely and decided to let it dry out. Laying it on the kitchen counter atop a piece of paper towel, she then started the coffee and took eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator. She’d let Starling get her own breakfast whenever she got up. Edna hadn’t heard her come in the night before, so couldn’t guess when her daughter would rise.