I called Nick and, no surprise, got his voice mail instead. I left a message saying I’d gotten his text and that I’d be at Second Chance all morning. I was in the workroom about an hour later sitting on the floor, sorting through a box of candelabra when Nick returned my call.
“Hi,” I said. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“I have some questions about last night.”
I got to my feet and walked over to the back door for a little more privacy. Mr. P. was in the shop taking the glass out of a couple of picture frames for Rose. “Okay, what would you like to know?”
“First of all, you know that Christopher Healy is dead?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “I talked to Michelle this morning. She told me.”
“Were you looking in his direction before he collapsed?” Nick asked.
“Yes.”
“What did you see, exactly?”
I pictured the room from the night before. “Healy was standing at the bar. He took a drink of his coffee, then his hand started shaking. He put his other hand to his chest, just below his throat. I thought maybe he was having trouble breathing. He made a noise.”
“What kind of noise?” Nick said.
“It was almost like he was choking. The coffee cup hit the floor and then he collapsed.”
There was silence for a moment and I wondered if Nick was making notes. “Sarah, was there anyone around Healy?” he asked.
“No.” I looked across the parking lot. Mac had the big door to the former garage open and I could see him working on the mail-sorting table. “The bartender was at the other end of the bar and there was no one else around.”
I heard Nick exhale on the other end of the phone. “When we started doing CPR, do you remember Healy smelling like anything in particular?”
“What do you mean?” I said. “He smelled like coffee because I think some got spilled on his jacket when he dropped the cup, and I could still smell alcohol. I’m pretty sure it was beer. And aftershave, something with rosemary I think.”
“Did you catch the scent of anything else?”
I turned away from the window. “Like what?”
“I just want to know if you smelled anything besides coffee and beer.” There was a bit of an annoyed edge to his voice.
I reminded myself that Nick was most likely just doing his job. He was an investigator for the medical examiner’s office. He’d worked as an EMT to put himself through college and he’d been considering going to medical school before he took the investigator’s job. Christopher Healy’s death could be his case now.
I closed my eyes and pulled up the memory of bending over Healy’s body. “All right. Like I said, the man was wearing aftershave. I caught the scent of that. Nothing else stands out.”
“Okay, thanks,” he said. I heard the squeak of a chair, which likely meant he was at the police station and not his office.
“Do you have any idea how Mr. Healy died?” I asked.
“The autopsy isn’t scheduled until this afternoon.” I heard voices in the background. “I have to go,” he said. “And I probably won’t make it to The Black Bear tonight.” Both Nick and I were regulars at the Thursday-night jam at the downtown pub.
“Call me if there’s anything else I can do.”
He said he would, and ended the call. Nick hadn’t answered my question about how Christopher Healy had died. He’d just put me off by saying the autopsy wasn’t until that afternoon. And why had he asked me if I’d smelled anything?
A tight knot had formed at the back of my neck and I massaged it with two fingers. Rose had insisted that Mr. Healy had been poisoned. I knew certain poisons had distinctive aromas. Most people knew that cyanide has a bitter almond scent, although Nick had once told me that some people were genetically unable to smell it. Was it possible that Nick suspected the dead man had been poisoned, too? I hoped I was wrong about that supposition. I hoped the autopsy would prove that Christopher Healy had died of natural causes.
Liam showed up about half an hour later with several boxes filled with the toys that had been on display at the reception. No one was really sure where they’d come from or how they’d ended up in the basement of the old hotel. The best guess was that they were toys that had been kept for children who were guests. Most of them were in excellent shape, and they didn’t look as though they’d been played with very much.
“These are just the toys,” Liam said as he set the last carton on the workbench. “I’ll bring the photographs by later this afternoon or tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “Avery is going to start taking pictures of everything when she gets here after lunch and Rose is already sorting through picture frames.”
He nodded absently. His mind was somewhere else.
“Have you talked to Michelle today?” I asked.
“What?” He gave his head a shake. “I mean no.”
“You know that Christopher Healy is dead?”
“Joe told me.” His eyes narrowed. “Have you talked to Michelle?”
I glanced at the boxes, looking for the View-Master. I’d already decided I wanted to buy it as a surprise for Mr. P. “First thing this morning,” I said. “But I don’t know anything more than you do. I talked to Nick as well. He said the autopsy wouldn’t be done until this afternoon.”
Liam stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Healy seems kind of young to have had a heart attack.”
“I don’t think he had a heart attack,” I said. “It looked like he might have had some kind of seizure.”
“So maybe a stroke.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to say that maybe, maybe he’d been poisoned when all it might be was speculation on my part—and Rose’s. I straightened the box closest to me, lining it up with the edge of the bench. “What happens to the lawsuit now?” I asked.
“I’m guessing this will be the end of it and Joe will be able to buy the land just the way he’d originally planned to do.”
“Liam, do you have any idea why Healy showed up last night?”
His expression changed. There was a wary look in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he said.
“I mean, what was he trying to achieve? Make a scene? Embarrass Joe Roswell? They were already going to court. How did him showing up drunk like that change anything?”
“Who knows?” Liam shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. “It wasn’t about money, I know that much. Joe offered more than Healy paid for the land, but he wouldn’t take it.”
“Where is this piece of land, anyway?”
The question got a smile from Liam. “Remember when we used to go swimming at Gibson’s Point when we were kids?”
I nodded.
“Remember that cove with that private beach that we used to sneak off to?”
I grinned at him and raised an eyebrow. “You mean that you used to ditch me and sneak off to with whichever girl you were dating that week.” I made quotes in the air around the word “dating.”
He grinned back at me. “That’s what I said. It’s the piece of land overlooking the water.” His phone chimed then. He pulled it out of his pocket, took a quick look at the screen and then stashed it again. “I have to go,” he said. “I’ll try to get back this afternoon with those photos.”
I nodded. “We’ll get started with these boxes.”
Liam started for the back door then turned around again. “Hey, Sarah, thanks for doing this. I owe you.”
I crossed my arms over my midsection and smiled at him. “I know,” I said.
He rolled his eyes and he was out the door.
I pulled the nearest box closer to me and started taking out the tin cars inside. I hoped that enough people had had the chance to see the toys that there’d be lots of bids on everything. I didn’t want the hot lunch program to lose out because of what had happened. It struck me that based on what Liam had said, Joe Roswell was likely going to benefit. He might be the only person who would.
Joe Roswell was probably going to gain from Christopher Healy’s death. I didn’t want to think about what that could mean.