Murder by Yew (16 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Young

BOOK: Murder by Yew
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As Edna heard her own words, dread returned. If what she’d just said were true, then whoever was in her house last night could only have been after her. She stopped and looked from Charlie to Peggy, feeling her eyes widen with the horror of her own thoughts.


Exactly, Mrs. Davies.” Charlie spoke softly. “Which brings us back to the question, do you know of anyone who might want to harm you?”

She lowered her head and began to think. Could all this have anything to do with Tom’s death? Was he killed because of something he knew, something having to do with this house?
No,
she shook herself mentally,
that’s absurd.
Then she wondered about Nancy.
Would Tom’s daughter want to harm her? Maybe whoever it was just wanted to scare her enough that she would leave town.
Thinking of the wagging tongues that were forcing the Sharps to sell their home, Edna didn’t want to accuse anyone unless she was absolutely certain. Lifting her gaze to Charlie’s face, she said. “No. I can think of no one.”

He again glanced silently at his partner, and Edna’s fury broke. “That’s not only rude, it’s infuriating.” She sat straighter in her chair, squared her shoulders and glared at the two detectives. “I wish you two would stop looking at each other as if you were sharing some big secret. If you have something to say, spit it out. Instead of sitting here scaring me to death, why aren’t you out trying to find these people? And what about Tom? Have you found out who poisoned him?” She flinched inwardly as Charlie straightened in his own chair and stared back at her.

After what seemed like a long minute, his eyes softened, but his mouth remained grim. “We are trying to find these criminals, Mrs. Davies. That’s what we’re doing here. As for Tom, we’re still waiting for a complete autopsy report before making any decision on the case. It takes time to run toxicology tests.” He turned his wrist and looked at his watch. “I think we’re finished here, except for one thing. We’d like to take your canisters—with your permission, of course.” He nodded toward the tins lined up on the kitchen counter that held her tea mixtures.

Still with an edge to her voice, Edna said, “You’ve already taken samples of my teas. Why do you want more?”


We’d like everything, if you don’t mind,” Charlie answered noncommittally, “including the containers.”

Edna’s anger vanished, and with a sinking heart, she nodded.


Do you need anything from here before we drive you back to Mary’s?” Peggy asked.

Sensing that the policewoman might be trying to break some of the tension that hung in the air, Edna tried to smile as she shook her head. “You don’t need to drive me back. It’ll take time for me to pack a bag, and I need to be here for the repairman. As soon as the phone is fixed, I want to call my husband.” She looked from one officer to the other. “I should be safe here during the day, don’t you think?”

Ignoring the question, Peggy said, “I’ll call Mary. She can bring Hank over and wait with you.” Pulling aside her jacket, she plucked a phone from a small black holster hooked to her belt.

While his partner was on the phone, Charlie pushed himself up from the table and strode over to the counter, motioning toward the canisters. “Do you have a paper bag I can put these in?”

She went to the pantry off the mudroom where she kept her recyclables and returned just in time to hear Peggy say, “We’d better go check.”


What’s wrong?”


No answer at Mary’s. We’d like you to come with us while we see what’s up.” Peggy smiled at Edna as she snapped the handset back into its case on her belt. “It’s probably nothing. She’s probably just out walking the dog.”

 

 

 

 

 

Seventeen

 

The rain had increased to a steady drizzle as Edna followed the officers out to the unmarked police car. Sitting in the back seat, she noticed, as she had on the ride over, that the inside door handles were missing. This time, however, a vision resurfaced of Aleda Sharp and the officer’s hand pressing down on the top of her beautifully coiffed dark hair, and Edna wondered if that’s how she herself would be carted off when the police came to arrest her for Tom’s murder.

In front of Mary’s house, the detectives got out, and Edna noticed Peggy’s hand move briefly to the gun at her waist. Charlie leaned back in before closing his door. “Wait here ‘til we know what’s going on.” As if she had a choice.

Watching them approach the house, Edna saw Peggy point to something overhead but couldn’t see what it was. As Edna strained to make out images through the rain-soaked windshield, Mary opened the front door. After a short conversation that Edna couldn’t hear, Peggy turned back to the car.


Looks like a tree branch fell on the line. I’ll call it in and have them fix Mary’s phone when they come to work on yours.”

The officers assured the women that a patrol car would drive by as frequently as possible and left after Mary promised to stick close to Edna. The redhead told everyone solemnly that she herself had a feeling Edna might have been the target of last night’s marauders. Mary seemed to be enjoying her new role as bodyguard as she herded Edna and Hank into her jeep for the return trip to the Davies’ house. Benjamin stayed behind to nap on his new favorite spot atop the warm kitchen radiator.


The first thing I’m going to do,” Edna said as they shrugged out of their wet coats and hung them by the back door, “is clean these floors.”


I’ll keep a watch out for anyone coming near the house,” Mary announced and proceeded to show Edna how diligent she was by moving to the kitchen sink and staring out at the driveway.


You’ll have to keep watch from another room. I’m going to mop this floor first. Why don’t you take Hank and sit in the living room? I’m sure he’ll let us know if anyone arrives.”

Looking slightly deflated, Mary volunteered to vacuum the rugs while Edna wielded the mop. Once the machine was turned on, Hank slithered off to hide.

After swabbing the kitchen and mudroom floors, Edna found Mary leaning on the handle of the Hoover, staring at Tom’s portrait. She must have heard Edna approach, because she quickly turned on the vacuum and headed further into the living room, keeping her back turned.

Watching the bowed shoulders, Edna thought Mary might have been crying. Quietly, efficiently, she folded up the easel and carried it and her drawings away to store them in the closet off the mudroom. Mary seemed to have recovered her composure by the time Edna returned to suggest they stop and have lunch.

The two women ate in companionable silence, since Edna had a lot on her mind and Mary, too, seemed lost in thought. After clearing away the luncheon plates, Edna poured each of them some tea and set a plate of oatmeal cookies on the table. Sitting across from Mary, she said. “Will you tell me some more about Tom?”

She had a dual purpose in prompting Mary to talk. First, Edna still needed to figure out whether something in Tom’s life would reveal a motive for his death and, second, she felt it would do Mary good to talk about the cause of her grief. She thought Mary probably had spent too much of her life hiding her feelings.

Quiet for a moment or two, Mary bent over to ruffle Hank’s ears and, most likely, to collect her thoughts. Always close by, the dog had curled up beside her chair. When she finally spoke, it was almost as if to herself, and Edna nearly missed the words. “What else do you want to know?”


Whatever you can think of. For instance, what did he do after high school? Did he join the service?”


No. They wouldn’t take him. They said he had a bad heart or a heart murmur or something. He went to work full time on Hoxie’s farm and took agi classes at the university when he could fit them in.”

Agi
was how people referred to the agricultural school. A large part of Rhode Island’s economy depended on dairy and truck farming. At least, it had back in those days, and the local State university had one of the best agi departments in the country. “Did he get his degree from U.R.I.?”

Mary nodded. “Eventually. It took him a long time, but he did it.” She was obviously proud of Tom’s accomplishment. “He and Jenny were together a lot by the time he graduated from high school. Guess they already planned to get married as soon as she finished. Her parents made her promise to get her diploma first.” Mary looked down at the cookie she was pushing around on her plate. “They were really nice, Tom and Jenny. They used to invite me to do things with them, movies, picnics. I even went fishing with them once.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can’t believe they’re both gone.”

Edna felt a lump in her throat and waited for a minute before speaking again. “Can you think of anything else? Anything that went wrong in his life? Anyone who didn’t like him? Fights, quarrels, anything.”


No. We lost touch after Nancy was born. My father had had a stroke, and I helped take care of him. Jenny was real busy, too, with the baby and all. We ran into each other in town once in a while, but not often.”

Edna fell silent, feeling as though she’d gotten all the information she could out of Mary. She hated to admit it, but the next person she was going to have to question was Tom’s cousin and part-time employer, Norm Wilkins. The thought made her shudder, but she knew she couldn’t put it off. She’d have to call him and see if she could make an appointment.
Appointment
.
The word stuck in her mind and brought back a memory. “The book,” she said aloud.


What book?” Mary asked half-heartedly. Hank was standing with his front paws on her leg, and she was rubbing his neck beneath the collar.


The appointment book. Tom’s schedule.” Hope surged in her veins. “I’ve got to call Charlie or Peggy or someone.” She felt like dancing around the room. “Tom kept an appointment book in his truck. I know, because he said so when Dee stopped by last Thursday. She asked him if he was available, because she had some work she needed done before the winter weather sets in. He said he’d have to check his schedule, that his book was in the glove compartment of his truck.”

Edna hurried to her small office and picked up the phone before she remembered the line was dead. The excitement left her as quickly as it had come. “Drat, drat,
drat
,” she said, slamming down the receiver. “Why now? Where are those darn repairmen?”

When she turned around, Mary was standing in the doorway, frowning. Hank, too, was watching her from beside his new mistress, his head slightly cocked. Edna felt some of her enthusiasm return.


Don’t you see? I need to talk to Charlie and ask him if anyone checked Tom’s truck. If he finds the appointment book, he’ll know where Tom was going last Thursday after he left here.”

Mary shook her head. “If the police found anything like that, don’t you think they’d have mentioned it? That’s why they’ve been talking to Danny, to find out where he and Tom were that day.”

The words hit Edna like a glass of cold water in the face, but she wasn’t about to let go of this one hope until she’d checked for herself. “I have to talk to Nancy. Maybe she knows where he kept it. Maybe everyone forgot about it.”

As Mary looked doubtful and opened her mouth to reply, a low growl began deep in Hank’s throat. Edna froze, wondering if the dog were about to lunge at her, when the big lab whipped around and headed for the front door, his growl turning into sharp barks. Over the din, Edna heard the crunch of tires on the driveway.


Bet that’s the telephone truck,” Mary said.

Two hours later, the young woman and middle-aged man who had arrived to fix Edna’s phone line announced that it was back in service. The man flipped through some papers on a clipboard. “Do you know anything about the problem next door?”


That’s me,” Mary said dryly. “A branch from one of the beech trees by the road knocked the line out.” She turned to Edna and said, “Come on. Let’s show them.”


You go. I need to make some calls.”


You can’t stay here alone. I promised Charlie.”

The repairman turned to his partner and jerked his head toward the front door, probably sensing a quarrel brewing. He called over his shoulder, “We’ll meet you over there, but we’re on a tight schedule.”

Mary turned to Edna, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ve got to come with me. I won’t leave you here, and if I don’t get over to my place, they won’t wait.”

Edna was about to object, then realized it would do no good. Besides, she owed Mary more than that. She would just have to call Albert later. “You’re right,” she said. “Let’s get our coats.”

It was after four o’clock that afternoon by the time Mary’s phone was working. Edna decided to call Starling first, since it was two hours earlier in Colorado, and neither Grant nor Albert would probably be home in the middle of a Monday afternoon. She dialed Starling’s studio.


Oh, hi, Mom. Detective Rogers told me you’d probably call this afternoon.”

Edna heard suppressed laughter in her daughter’s voice and was both surprised and puzzled. “Charlie? How do you know Charlie Rogers?”

Starling laughed merrily. “He’s nice, isn’t he? Cute, too.” Obviously, she was enjoying a little game at her mother’s expense.


Star-ling.” Edna drew out the name with a tone that said her daughter had better stop teasing.


Okay, okay, but you’re not going to believe it. Remember the story I told you about the mime and the brother-in-law?”


Yeeesss,” Edna said hesitantly, trying to guess what Starling’s taking pictures in Quincy Market had to do with a local detective.


He’s the brother-in-law.”

Edna shook her head, not understanding. “Charlie? How can that be? I thought you said the man was from Seattle.”


That’s what he told me, but it was a cover. Turns out, the mime is a cop, too. Jake. Only Jake’s with the Boston P.D. and not as sexy as Charlie. Do you know if he’s married?”


Who?” Edna was still trying to figure out what Starling was trying to tell her.


Charlie.” Starling sounded exasperated.


How would I know? Why was he in Boston pretending to be someone’s brother-in-law from Seattle?”


Charlie and Jake are part of a special task force, investigating some sort of fencing operation.”

A small light came on in Edna’s head. “By fencing, I’m sure you don’t mean sword play. Is this part of the burglary case he’s working on? The antiques that have been stolen from homes in this area?”

Ignoring Edna’s attempt at humor, Starling said, “It must be. They’ve been following a guy here in Boston who they suspect is warehousing old furniture and stuff and selling it on the black market.”


But what does that have to do with you?”


Oh, wow. You don’t know, do you?” Excitement was rising in Starling’s voice. “Someone broke into the studio and then ransacked my apartment. Both places …”


What?” Edna’s heart lurched as her daughter’s words brought back the scare of her own break-in. “When? Are you all right?”


I’m fine, Mom.” Starling sounded impatient at being interrupted. “They hit the studio sometime last night and got into my apartment after I left for the shoot in Marblehead this morning. Both places are trashed, but it looks like all that was taken were pictures and negatives. Charlie thinks the same people are responsible for both burglaries. Can you believe it? Someone stole the pictures off my trial wall.”


You mean the one of Bev, my housecleaner?”


Yes, and all the others I took at Quincy Market that day.”


If all they took were your pictures, I still don’t understand what your studio or your apartment have to do with the antique thieves or the fencing operation or that task force.”


Here’s what Charlie told me,” Starling said, beginning her story, and Edna mentally filled in what she herself knew.

After leaving Mary’s house that morning, Charlie had, apparently, gone to Boston for a task force meeting. As he was debriefing members of the team on the latest stolen property, a uniformed patrolman entered the conference room. The man’s superior asked what had kept him, and the officer answered that he’d been first on the scene of a break-in at one of the local photography studios and hadn’t been able to get away.

Recognizing the name of the gallery from the card he had found in the film canister, Charlie asked the officer about a woman named Starling Davies. The patrolman replied that, yes, she was one of the owners, and incidentally, he understood that her apartment had also been tossed that morning. Charlie then explained to the task force that Ms. Davies was the photographer who had taken the Quincy Market pictures and asked permission to go with Jake to the studio so they could determine if the break-in had any bearing on the task force’s investigation.

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