Chapter 12
How was I supposed to answer that? Roxie was a friend. What if Cyril was dying? What if he was going to tell me something earthshaking, like he wasn’t her dad?
“I need your help, Florrie. Please.”
I relented. He was a nice man and he looked so desperate. “May I use my judgment about whether to tell Roxie?”
“No.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them. “Roxie cannot know this.”
It wasn’t sounding any better. But I could see his despair. “All right.” I held my breath.
He gazed at me without his glasses. I hadn’t noticed before that his eyes were a beautiful, clear sky blue.
“After my wife died, I thought I would never meet anyone else. Roxie was the focus of my life,” he said. “And then a couple of years later, I met a woman who changed everything. I actually thought I might have that very rare thing, two incredible loves in one lifetime. But her ex-husband killed her.”
“Because of your relationship?” I gasped.
“The police said it had nothing to do with me. He was a very troubled man. The intellectual part of me could accept that. But the rest of me was tormented by the notion that I may have influenced the thinking of her former husband. I couldn’t shake the possibility that our relationship had driven him to the brink.”
“I’m sorry, Cyril.” I didn’t see why Roxie shouldn’t know about that, though.
He nodded. “I had won and lost at love twice. I was done. You’ve heard of helicopter moms? I was the drone dad. I threw myself into everything and anything that interested Roxie. Ballet and soccer, then we went through a long period of riding and horse shows. I refused to allow other parents to drive Roxie and her friends. Please understand, it wasn’t an obsession or anything weird. I was so afraid I would lose her, too.”
I felt terrible for him. But how had Roxie felt? Smothered?
“She went to college as far away from me as she could get.” Cyril smiled wryly. “I can’t blame her. She wanted freedom. What she doesn’t know and would never forgive is that while she was there, I paid someone to check up on her now and then. She still talks about the night she was mugged outside of a bar and a man swooped in and saved her. She never knew who he was, but I did.”
Good heavens! I would have been furious with my dad had he done something like that. It turned out well, of course, but it would have angered me if my father had done such a thing. “Didn’t you trust Roxie?”
“You’ll be happy to know that I went to a therapist who helped me understand that I wasn’t evil or unhinged. It wasn’t even that I was trying to protect Roxie. I was protecting myself from losing the only person I had left in my life.” He held up both palms as if to prevent me from jumping to conclusions.
“I won’t say that I never worried about her anymore, but I threw myself into charities and focused on helping people for whom I could make a difference. When Roxie graduated and came back to Washington, she made me promise that my drone dad days were over. And they were. In spite of me, not because of me, Roxie is a wonderful person. I’m very proud of my little girl.”
He swallowed hard. I had a feeling more was coming. “When Roxie married Finley a couple of years ago, I didn’t want to be the third wheel. I didn’t want Roxie to feel like she always had to include her old dad or worry that I was alone.”
Oh no, now what had he done?
“I’m not the type to meet women online. That strikes me as odd. How do you know if they are who they claim to be? So I signed up for a ballroom dance class.”
“A dance class?”
“Think about it. What could be better than meeting women who like to dance? Plus there’s no pressure or obligation. If you’re not interested in someone, you don’t have to make excuses. There’s no implication of a commitment. You don’t know anything about them and they don’t know anything about you. It’s all very casual. Unfortunately, I met Hilda Rattenhorst.”
“You did say ballroom dance?” Hilda didn’t strike me as the ballroom-dancing type.
“I did. Hilda took a liking to me. I think she was drawn to me because of my background.”
“Is that a nice way of saying she wanted to contact your lost loved ones?”
“Something like that. It began so innocently. I saw her at our class and that was it. I never asked her out. Never phoned her. Never had any outside contact with her at all. And then, suddenly, it seemed as if I saw her everywhere I went. I realized that she must be following me or tracking me in some way. Fortunately, the class came to an end, and I stupidly thought that would solve the problem. That her infatuation, if that’s what it was, would come to an abrupt end. But that wasn’t the case. She hounded me as if she knew my every step.”
His voice rose as he grew more agitated.
The door opened and a nurse peered in. “Everything okay in here?”
Cyril waved at her to go away. “Fine.”
In a low voice she said, “You’re supposed to stay calm, Mr. Oldfield. Perhaps your visitor should leave.”
I could take a hint. I stood up but Cyril reached out and grabbed my hand. “Just a moment more, Nurse Ratched.”
I turned to look at her. She grimaced and closed the door.
Cyril released my hand and whispered, “I’m worried about Roxie. I’ve had a lot of time to think. The truth is that there’s no reason for anyone to want to kill me.”
“I thought it was a burglary gone wrong.”
“Nonsense. The clock had already been removed from its place on the mantel and was found outside the house in the backyard near a window where the burglar presumably gained entry.” Cyril leaned toward me.
“With all respect to the police, if the burglar had already removed the valuable clock from the house, why would he or she return inside to kill me? The logical thing to do would have been to flee and grab the clock on the way out.”
Cyril sat back in his chair. “No, Florrie. Even an armchair detective like myself can see the giant flaw in that theory. He or she had the goods. Yet the burglar returned. He didn’t smash me over the head with something and leave me unconscious. He intentionally slit my throat. I hadn’t seen him or her. I couldn’t identify the person. There was no reason to take such a drastic measure.”
I was reeling. Cyril’s argument made sense. A common thief might go back to retrieve more valuables, but a common thief probably wouldn’t have known the value of the clock. He wasn’t running through the house with a pillowcase, throwing silver into it. No, he had come for the clock and had already achieved his goal. Even if Cyril surprised him or her by coming home early, he could have easily slipped out the window, grabbed the clock, and been off before Cyril even realized that it was missing.
“Do you want me to talk to Eric about this?”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. But I have a bigger problem. I don’t know who would want to kill me or why.”
“Is that why you told me about Hilda?”
“Yes. I understand that Hilda was with Roxie at the time. It couldn’t have been her.”
“I’m not sure she could have overpowered you, either. Even unexpected and from behind.”
“Quite so. I can’t shake the notion that Hilda had a hand in this, though. Now I’m worried about Roxie’s safety. I have spoken with Finley, who has agreed to make excuses to walk her to work and back home. It’s a blessing that Roxie’s job as Jacquie’s assistant keeps her at the mansion most of the time. I know she’s safe there because Mr. DuBois almost never leaves the premises. Can you help me? Keep an eye on her? Dissuade her from traipsing around unaccompanied? Watch who is following her?”
“You’re asking me to spy on Roxie?”
“I was trying to avoid that word.”
Roxie would hate me. On the other hand, maybe she would be relieved that we were all looking out for her. In any event, given Cyril’s situation, I could hardly say no, even if it was only to calm his mind and I didn’t spy on Roxie.
“Cyril, I don’t understand. That person attacked you, not Roxie. Why do you think she’s in danger?”
“That person meant to kill me. I won’t allow him or her to hurt Roxie. I have a call in to Ellis Willoughby.”
“The guy who sent the skull?”
“The very same. I’m hoping he can set up around-the-clock protection for Roxie. And maybe I can help him out of whatever mess he has found himself in.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I was about to say that I couldn’t make promises, but decided it was wiser to change the subject quickly so his blood pressure wouldn’t spike. “You seem to be doing well, except for that bandage and a croak in your voice. Will you be going home soon?”
“I hope so. Now they’re worried about my heart, if you can believe that. To be honest, as much as I want to go, I don’t know that I’ll ever be comfortable there anymore. I had no idea that guy was in my house. How can I ever close my eyes and sleep peacefully in my own home again? I’ll always be listening for him.”
His heart? That didn’t sound good.
“He tried to kill me.” He touched the bandage on his throat briefly. Cyril reached for my hand. “Don’t let anyone hurt Roxie.”
It wasn’t as though I would be glued to her or able to defend her if the need arose. But to make him feel better, I said, “I’ll look after her. You just get well.”
Cyril closed his eyes. I figured that was an opportunity to leave. Suspecting that he needed a nap, I slipped out the door and picked up the other bouquet.
A quick inquiry at the nursing station revealed that Glen was on a lower floor. I found his room, knocked, and peeked in.
Glen’s left leg was propped up on a pillow. Even from a distance I could see how swollen it was.
“Florrie!” Glen waved for me to come in. He smiled when he saw the flower arrangement. “At least it doesn’t have any snakes in it.”
“How do you feel?”
“A little better today. Yesterday I was dizzy, nauseous, and in incredible pain. But the swelling seems to have stopped, so the docs are hopeful.”
“I can’t even imagine. I heard it happened in your delivery truck?”
Glen shook his head as if he could hardly believe it. “Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’ve heard those stories about snakes wrapping themselves around plants and being transported across the country to a store, but I never imagined one would end up in my truck. The company is researching my load yesterday. Either someone shipped a snake that got loose or it hitched a ride in a package.”
I couldn’t help shuddering. “People ship snakes?”
“Yeah. They’re not supposed to but it happens. Usually they give them a tranquilizer or something so they’ll sleep in transit. I guess this one didn’t get enough of the snoozy juice.”
“You’re being very upbeat about it. I think I’d be bitter.”
Glen crooked his finger at me to come closer. “Have any weird things happened at Color Me Read?”
I was saying no when I realized that lots of odd things had happened. “Like what?” I asked.
“You know that package I delivered to you yesterday? The crate?”
I nodded. I knew perfectly well which box he meant. The one Harry came in.
“I tell you, Florrie, I heard sounds coming from that package. Sort of a moaning.”
Chills ran through me. Was Harry the source of the horrible wailing we had heard? That couldn’t be.
I must have looked skeptical because Glen said, “I stopped the truck and looked for the source but it never happened when I was watching the package. I know it sounds crazy, but after I delivered it to you, the wailing didn’t happen anymore. It was coming from your box. What was inside it?”
I was hesitant to tell him the truth. Would he freak out? “I promise you that there were no snakes or anything else inside that was alive.”
“Uh-huh,” Glen said in a tone that conveyed his disbelief. “What was it? Come on, now. I’m laid up here in the hospital. The least you can do is tell me what was in your package.”
I sighed. “A skull and a scrying mirror.”
Horrified, Glen shrieked, “It’s possessed! I knew it. That’s why the snake bit me. Get rid of it, Florrie. That skull is bad mojo. Devilry, I tell you! You have to burn it!”
He was screaming so loud that a nurse rushed into the room.
I could feel my face flushing. I seemed to be upsetting everyone I visited. And I had meant well!
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t intend to upset him.”
The nurse calmly assured me, “It’s not you. It’s the venom. It happens. They seem okay, and then they’re delusional. Perhaps you should go.”
I hurried out the door before I could agitate Glen further. I was glad to leave the hospital but Glen’s screaming stayed with me. As I walked and took in the real world around me, I relaxed. Cyril had something—or, more precisely, someone—to fear. Glen was delusional. At least, that was what I wanted to believe.
Because of the ghost marauders, I had hurried to the bookstore and hadn’t eaten breakfast. As I recalled, Auntie Amy’s Doughnuts was on the way to Roxie’s house. The scent wafted out to the street as I approached the shop and it almost pulled me inside. How could anyone walk by without buying a doughnut? Minutes later, I was armed with lattes and the fresh-from-the-fryer cinnamon doughnuts that were Roxie’s favorite. I continued to her house at a brisk walk so the doughnuts would still be warm when I arrived.
Roxie and Finley lived in a gorgeous two-story white brick home that had to be at least one hundred years old. Forest-green shutters flanked the tall windows. The door was painted to match them.
A tree on the tiny lawn bore leaves that I stopped to admire. The stems were bright red and ran through the spiky round leaves like veins. In the middle, the leaves were still green, but their spiky edges had turned a brilliant red.
When I clanked the door knocker, a gracious lion with a ring in his mouth, I heard someone inside the house move. “Roxie?” I called.
There was no response. “Roxie? It’s Florrie!”
I heard shuffling on the other side of the door. “Roxie! Are you all right?”
The door opened one inch. She peered at me. “Hurry inside,” she hissed.
I stepped into a small foyer. She slammed the door and locked it. “Did you see her?” asked Roxie breathlessly.
“Who?”
“The woman who was following Finley in the bookstore.”
“She was here?” I asked. “I didn’t notice her outside.”
“She’s been lurking around the house.”
Roxie was thoroughly disheveled. Her beautiful blond hair hung in a ratty ponytail that had migrated toward the right side of her head. The buttons on her blouse were in the wrong holes. But it was her eyes that worried me. They were large with fear and her pupils were dilated.
I reached for the doorknob to look outside.
Roxie slammed her hand down on mine. “No!” she howled. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for her.”
“Please don’t.” She glanced around as if she didn’t know what to do.
I had been to Roxie’s house before but hadn’t ventured upstairs or into the kitchen. “You look like you could use some coffee. Where’s the kitchen?”
Roxie led me through a classic living room and dining room that had been decorated in soothing tones of cream, beige, and pink. They were feminine and extremely elegant.
“This is such a beautiful home,” I said.
“Thank you. It’s very special to me. Florrie, I can never thank you enough for saving my dad.”
“I didn’t save him. All I did was make a racket to scare away the intruder. I just came from the hospital. He looks pretty good except for that bandage on his throat.”
“They’re keeping him a little bit longer.” Roxie winced. “I can’t even imagine how horrible it must have been when that guy tried to cut his throat. What a barbaric thing to do. What kind of sicko does that? It’s just . . . horrific!”
“Has he told you how it happened?”
She nodded. “He came home and walked straight into the dining room to pour himself a drink. Suddenly someone grabbed him from behind and slit his throat. I can’t imagine how afraid Dad must have been.”