Cracked to Death (15 page)

Chapter 23

 

Detective Parker stood in the bright sunshine at the entrance to the Abbey Rehabilitation and Nursing Center, waiting for Officer Williams to arrive. She had reported that Amanda Blake had slipped through the back door of Webb's Glass Shop. He would continue with the plan to serve a search warrant to Amanda's mother.

He waited patiently while Officer Williams parked her patrol car and walked up to him with the warrant in her hand. “I'm so sorry. I should have brought another officer with me to watch the back door.”

“Good lesson, then.” Parker took the warrant and opened the front door for Williams. She forced a smile on her face and walked through the door.

Parker looked for and quickly found the administrator's office near the reception lounge and entered the small office, which obviously hadn't been decorated since the seventies. The modular desk was suffering from delamination, and the bottom edges and the small piles of sawdust bore witness to the internal disintegration of the desk.

A woman in her midfifties, dressed in a black skirt, a white blouse, and a sparkly chain holding a red sweater in place across her shoulders, stood up to greet them. “Good morning. Have you come by to visit someone?”

Parker handed her one of his cards. “Yes, ma'am. I'm Detective David Parker of the St. Petersburg Police Homicide Division.” He waved a palm at Officer Williams. “This is Officer Williams.” He looked at the name plate on her desk. “Miss Hamilton, we're here to search the room of Mrs. Blake.” He handed her a document. “This is our search warrant. Read it over. It gives us the right to search her possessions.”

Miss Hamilton took the stapled sheaf of papers and quickly skimmed through the document. “Fine. Let me show you her room.” She briskly stepped around the desk and motioned for them to follow her.

At the nurses' station inside the doors to the lobby, she spoke to the first nurse who looked up. “These police officers are here to search Mrs. Blake's room. Please inform the rest of the staff to cooperate fully. I'll take them down to her room. Please send an aide to help move Mrs. Blake to the dining hall.”

She looked back at Detective Parker. “If you don't mind, I would rather not agitate her. She's recovering from pneumonia, and I am sure you don't want to effect a relapse.” She turned down the left corridor and didn't look back to see if they followed.

At the end of the corridor, she turned into the room on her left. Detective Parker and Officer Williams silently followed. The room was decorated like an old-fashioned schoolroom. There were maps, corkboards, whiteboards, photographs that had been enlarged to poster size of a house and a backyard, and, finally, a portrait of Amanda. These were obviously memory cues for the resident.

Mrs. Blake was sitting upright in a narrow hospital bed, with an oxygen cannula held in place under her nostrils with flexible tape. Miss Hamilton stood beside her. “Good morning, Mrs. Blake. You have some visitors.” She took a moment to tuck the soft yellow blanket around the patient, nodded to Detective Parker and Officer Williams, and briskly left the room.

The room was furnished as much like a home as a hospital room could be. Several pieces of furniture had obviously come from Mrs. Blake's home: a tan recliner with white doilies fastened to the back and arms, an armoire with a mirror on the door and hat boxes stacked on top, and a matching long dresser that had nine drawers and more than a dozen jewelry boxes arranged on top.

Detective Parker leaned over the small white-haired resident. “Good morning, Mrs. Blake. I'm Detective David Parker, and this is my associate, Officer Williams. We're here to have a look around. We won't be long, and we'll be as quiet as we can.” He nodded toward Williams, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of plastic gloves. She stepped over to the door and began searching the room clockwise, looking through every cupboard, shelf, drawer, box, and closet.

Looking around the crowded but cozy room, Parker found a folding chair and placed it as close to Mrs. Blake as he could manage. He sat down, leaned in, and spoke in a low and soothing tone. “Mrs. Blake, have you seen your daughter today?”

Mrs. Blake turned her head from the muted television that was hanging from the ceiling on a movable crane-like arm. “Amanda? Amanda is here every morning and every evening. Sometimes when I'm having a bad time, she'll stay with me and sleep on the recliner. You missed her. She's such a good daughter.”

“Yes, I'm sure she is, but—”

“What is the nurse bringing me? Is this my birthday, and is she hiding my present?”

“She's not a nurse. This is my associate, Officer Williams. She's helping me gather up some of Amanda's things. Do you know where Amanda stores her things?”

“Sir, Amanda leaves her things at home. She's living there now and taking care of my plants. I have some beautiful roses. You can see them in the picture over there.” Mrs. Blake pointed to one of large posters.

Detective Parker looked at the roses. “Very beautiful, Mrs. Blake. I don't have a yard. I live in a condo.”

“How terrible. I have only a single African violet with me for my visit. Amanda brought it so I would have something to cheer up this room. She's done a lovely job, don't you think?”

“I think you are lucky to have such a devoted daughter. When did she stay overnight last?”

Mrs. Blake frowned and rubbed the top of her head. “Oh, dear. I get very muddled with what day it is.” She looked directly ahead at a large calendar mounted on the wall, one showing the day, month, and date in large bold letters. “It's Friday, isn't it?”

While Detective Parker and Mrs. Blake continued their conversation, Williams worked her way over to the only closet in the small room. Clothes were stuffed on the rack, purses were crammed on the upper shelf, and boxes of shoes on the floor were stacked two deep and six high. She started on the upper shelf by removing each purse and searching through it and piling them on the floor.

“Yes, Mrs. Blake. Today is Friday. Can you tell me the last time Amanda stayed the night?”

“I think it was a few days ago. Either Monday or Tuesday.” She turned her face to Parker and smiled sweetly. “She's such a good daughter.”

Detective Parker caught Officer Williams's attention and mouthed, “Hurry up,” in her direction before returning his attention to Mrs. Blake. “It would help us if you could remember which night she stayed with you.”

“Oh, now I remember. She has been staying every night. She stays with me when I have to be on oxygen. She's such a good daughter.” Her smile was aimed at the large picture of Amanda tacked on the center of the corkboard.

Officer Williams worked her way through the hanging clothes by removing each garment, searching it, then replacing it in the closet. Then she sat cross-legged on the floor and reached for a stack of shoe boxes. One of them tumbled to the floor and spilled open, causing a pair of elegant teal silk kitten heels to slide under the hospital bed.

Detective Parker glared at Williams, but the noise didn't register with Mrs. Blake. In fact, the crinkled lids over her faded blue eyes seemed to be closing slowly. Parker stood and walked around the bed to the closet. He whispered, “She's asleep for now. Hurry as best you can.”

Williams nodded and continued to search each shoe box. She had worked her way to the back row when she straightened up, rose from the floor, and stood next to Detective Parker. “Is this what you're looking for?” She held open a shoe box to reveal an old bottle resting comfortably inside a pair of black stiletto heels.

“This looks like the bottle we found in Martin's dive bag.” He tilted his head to get a better look at it. “There's a dark stain near the bottom, and it has a crack from the base to the tip. Bag this up for forensics. This could be the bit of evidence that allows me to arrest Amanda for the murder of her boyfriend.”

Chapter 24

 

Savannah stood with her hands on her hips, trying to control the flash of anger that swept through her. There was no way to help Amanda if she ran away. What was she thinking?

Gone was gone, however, and today's workshop needed to be completed. Luckily, they had worked on the lesson plan together. The final day of class included learning to build a clock with a flattened bottle and cleaning up the projects left in the kiln overnight.

After she had finished opening up the shop properly, Savannah called Jacob and told him she wouldn't be arriving at the studio until late in the afternoon. Staffing two sites was always going to be a challenge, so she needed to think about another assistant as a backup resource for both the shop and the studio.

I didn't think I needed to worry about Amanda. I was wrong,
she thought.

The front door jangled, signaling the start of the last day of the workshop.

* * *

Everything progressed smoothly, and in what seemed like minutes, it was time for the class to pack up and leave with their work.

“Thanks, Miss. Webb,” said Patty Kelner. “This has been the best class I've taken ever, ever, ever. You and Amanda are fantastic.”

“Yeah, we need to do this every summer,” Yvonne Whittaker said, piping up. “I'm going to talk to my counselor and tell her what a great class this is. Maybe you can work up a class for our school.” She looked over at Patty. “Wouldn't it be super awesome?”

“Yep. I'll go with you. We can take in our projects. That will clinch the deal.”

“Thanks, girls. I'll give your counselor a call in a couple of weeks and see what we can come up with for Christmas break.”

They left the shop, still chattering about who they would invite to a class.

“Thank you for persevering through such difficult times.” SueAnn reached out and took Savannah's hands in hers. “It's such a shame your instructor is so unreliable. She seemed like such a generous soul, but you never know about people until you give them responsibilities.” Squeezing her hands for emphasis, she added, “You must learn not to trust so easily, dear. The world is a harsh classroom.”

Savannah bit back the words flashing through her mind in defense of Amanda. She realized that from SueAnn's perspective, things looked haphazard. It was unlikely that Webb's would ever see SueAnn back as a student.

After SueAnn left the shop, the twins converged on Savannah. Rachel started. “Okay, tell us what's happening. We know Amanda would never miss class for anything but her mother's death. What's going on?”

Faith circled an arm around Savannah's waist. “Come on. We're practically family. What's the matter with Amanda?”

Savannah smiled down at these two absurd-looking elders and felt warmth spreading in her chest. They were right. They felt like family—her family.

“Ladies, I wish I knew. She seemed to be handling everything fairly well. I mean, the new class was a slam dunk. But then, after Martin was murdered, she was distant and distracted. I misunderstood and thought her mother was ill again. Unfortunately, the case is much more complicated. She was secretly engaged to Martin and is under investigation by our very own Detective Parker.”

Faith spoke. “Where is she now?”

“I don't know. She ran out the back when Officer Williams came by to notify her that a search warrant had been issued. I haven't heard from her. She's too smart to be at her apartment. I've been leaving voice mails and text messages on her phone. She's got to surface soon. Her mother needs her.”

The twins looked at each other and said in unison, “What can we do?”

“I don't know, but I sincerely appreciate the offer.”

Rachel looked up into Savannah's eyes. “We are serious about helping. We know you are consulting with Detective Parker and—”

“It looks like this is going to get serious for Amanda,” Faith said, finishing Rachel's statement. “We want to help with the investigation.”

Rachel nodded. “We think this is much more serious than a simple ‘Amanda under stress' problem.”

“We think Amanda is going to be arrested for Martin's murder,” Faith said.

Savannah stepped back. “Ridiculous. Amanda wouldn't hurt anyone.”

“That's not what it looks like from Detective Parker's point of view,” said Rachel.

“From their point of view”—Faith pointed a finger at Savannah—“she has fled to avoid a warrant. That must elevate her to the rank of their prime suspect.”

They gathered their bags and projects and made their way toward the front door. “Remember,” said Faith.

“Call us when she gets arrested,” said Rachel.

They left a huge silence behind when they left and closed the door.

Savannah had begun cleaning up, in preparation for closing the shop, when the bell jangled on the front door.

“Hey, love. I brought some iced tea and lemon cookies. Are you ready for a little break?” Edward set the tray on the sales counter and folded Savannah into his arms. “I heard from Jacob that you were finishing up the workshop today, because Amanda's gone missing. He thought I should know.”

Her voice muffled by his embrace, she said, “I can't understand why she ran away. She knows how bad that looks. She also knows we're her friends and we would do anything to help her if she's in trouble.”

Edward released her and grabbed her hand in both of his. “Pet, this is a serious situation. It's quite possible the next thing that happens to Amanda will be her arrest.”

“What do you mean, my arrest?” Amanda walked in from the back office and stood with her hands on her hips. “I haven't done anything.”

“Amanda!” Savannah nearly squashed her in a bear hug. “What is going on? You have to tell us.”

Amanda looked up with tear-filled eyes. “You're right, of course.” She poured herself a glass of tea. “I need to tell you guys everything. Let's go back to the classroom.” She walked over to the front door, locked it, then turned the hanging sign around from
OPEN
to
CLOSED
. She led them into the classroom, motioned for Edward to bring the iced tea tray, and settled herself on the nearest student work stool. “I don't know how to start. It's all been so horrible . . . keeping everything a secret from you guys.”

“Start from the beginning.” Savannah wiggled onto a stool next to Amanda. “You need help.”

“Okay. From the beginning, then.” Amanda took a huge drink of the iced tea. “Okay, like I told you guys before, I met Martin about four weeks ago on one of those dating sites.” She cupped her hands around the glass and looked down. “I don't know why I signed up. I think it was because Mother was getting more and more distant and . . .”

Savannah reached over to rub Amanda's arm. “It's all right.” She looked over at Edward. “We know this is a difficult time. That's one of the reasons I thought teaching the new workshop would be good for you.” She tilted her head and gave Edward a look that meant “Say something.”

Edward blurted, “Yep, we did. We thought it would be good for you.” He glanced at Savannah and gave his shoulders a tiny shrug.

“I know, but still I wanted something . . . someone. So I signed up, and there was a bunch of trolls, so I was convinced I had made a terrible mistake. But then there was Martin. We clicked right away.” She smiled and fell silent, with a faraway look.

Savannah reached over to touch Amanda's shoulder. “Keep going.”

Startled, Amanda said, “Oh, right. We met for coffee at first. We chattered like chipmunks for three hours. Then we tried a lunch.” She looked at Savannah and Edward in turn. “Just to make sure. You know lots of guys survive the coffee but not the lunch. Martin was terrific at lunch, as well. We laughed so much, my jaw ached for hours.” Amanda fell silent again.

“Then what?” Savannah asked.

“Well, after that, things went pretty fast—too fast—so fast I was embarrassed to tell you.” She held up both hands. “I know. I know you would have been supportive, but I got it into my head that if anyone else knew about us, the magic would disappear and he would be gone.”

Edward shook his head. “That's crazy. We would have been happy for you.”

“Crazy is exactly what I was afraid of. If I thought I was crazy, what would others think of me?”

“Your friends wouldn't think such things. That's why we're your friends.” Savannah stood. “Even so, you should have told us everything you knew on the day Martin's body was found.”

“When was the last time you saw Martin? Did you meet him on Monday after class?” Edward poured more iced tea all around.

“Amanda, we've been to Martin's trailer. We've talked to Martin's neighbors. The old guy next door saw his girlfriend that night. You have to stop keeping secrets. We know you were there,” Savannah revealed.

Amanda took a deep breath, and then her shoulders seemed to collapse. “You're right. You deserve to know.” She cupped her iced tea for a long moment. “My last words with Martin were ugly. I'm so ashamed. I didn't mean it.”

“What happened?” Savannah dropped her voice low.

“On our last night, I spent the evening at Martin's trailer. After we made love, he got very quiet and serious. He said he had been thinking about us, our future.” She smiled a distant, dreamy smile. “Our future, he said, needed to be based on something more than a few art pieces sold online.” She fell silent.

“That was sweet,” Savannah said.

Amanda started and continued. “Yes, but he wouldn't tell me what he thought should change. He said only that things had to change, and right now.”

Edward spread his hands. “So, not horrible, then.”

“That wasn't the end of the argument. That was the start of the argument. I told him that I was working at Webb's and that I expected a small inheritance from my mother's estate. I mean, she's pretty frail, and she's already far exceeded the normal life span for someone with vascular dementia. He got mad. He said he wasn't the kind of man who lived off his wife. He expected our family to be able to support itself without needing a lot of money.”

“Your family? That must have made you feel wonderful,” Savannah said.

“It did indeed. For a minute.” Amanda downed the rest of her iced tea. “Then, I suppose, my independent spirit kicked in. I told him I could support us very nicely. The next thing I knew, we were fighting like rabid dogs. He said he wouldn't be a boy toy on the arm of a cougar. That really hurt. Then I told him that his art alone wouldn't support diddly-squat. He said that engagements were nothing. He said that he was also engaged to Vicki. I lost it completely, and I don't know what I said, but it wasn't nice. He said something more about the bottles, but I stomped my way out of the trailer and spun gravel as I drove away. It was our first fight—and our last fight.”

Silence.

After a few seconds, Savannah touched Amanda's arm. “He was engaged to Vicki at the same time?”

Amanda nodded her head in misery.

“What time was it?” asked Savanah.

“I kinda, sorta lost track of time at that point. I think it was close to midnight, but I can't be sure.”

“Where did you go?” asked Edward.

“I tore off down the road and drove down Gulf Boulevard for a while, until I calmed down. Then I parked at Pass-a-Grille Beach, just thinking things over. Then I tried calling Martin to apologize. When he didn't answer, I got mad again. Then I drove over to see my mom. She was still at the Abbey. I still have my key from when I worked there, so I slipped in the back door and sat in the room with my mother. It calmed me down. Anyway, I texted Martin all night, asking him to explain.”

“But, Amanda, why didn't you tell us what was going on after it was clear the unidentified diver was Martin? Help me understand,” Savannah said.

“I was afraid you wouldn't want to help me. I mean, I had already been keeping our relationship a secret for several weeks.” She reached into her hobo bag and drew out an old-fashioned flower-printed cotton hankie. She blew her nose, ending with a small trumpet noise. “He was so much younger than me. It all seemed very wrong. He was ten years younger, and I could hear my mother in my head, telling me that I was robbing the cradle.”

“That's ridiculous. You know how liberal this community is. It's not quite as diverse as deliberately quirky Gulfport, but we're a close second. None of that would have mattered.”

Amanda bit her lip and swallowed hard. “I know that now, but at the time I was so worried about what you all would think of me that I didn't want to tell you. Then, after he admitted that he was also engaged to Vicki, it was clear that I meant nothing to him.”

“What was your reason for running out of here and away from the police?”

She held the hankie up to her nose and blew again. “I don't have an alibi. They know about me and Martin. I didn't want to be arrested. Sometimes they arrest the wrong person.”

“We've got to get on the right side of Detective Parker with this. You need to call Officer Williams and give her your apologies,” Savannah urged. “You didn't actually come face-to-face with her and the warrant, but you need to make this right. Understand?”

Amanda sniffed noisily and nodded her understanding.

“Now, get yourself off to see your mother, and stay out of trouble until we get this figured out.”