Chapter Eleven

Dinah left saying something about research. I didn’t know what she had in mind, but I was ready to do my own digging. With or without the Six.

Of course, they were gung ho.

Before we could confab, the ladies insisted on fixing tea for themselves and coffee for Fred and Dab. When we’d reassembled in the workroom, I uncapped a marker.

“Let’s look at what we know,” I said.

“From what you got up there, missy, don’t seem like we know much.”

“I realize that, Fred, but we have to start somewhere.”

“What about Eric? Did he tell you anything?” Sherry asked.

I took one second to decide how much to share but decided they needed to know all.

“He didn’t tell me much. As y’all predicted, he’s off the case because of his relationship with me and with all of you. However, he did give me a general time of death, and he said Vogelman learned Cornell had a heart condition in addition to the allergy. She talked to a man who runs a homeless shelter in Camden.”

“Did he mention what kind of heart ailment?” Maise asked.

“No, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t want him to clam up.”

“Bet he did anyway,” Fred said. “I ain’t sure that boy is good enough for you.”

I let that pass and pointed to the time of death on the chart. “I narrowed the time of death to after dark and before dawn, just because if I were the killer, that’s when I’d act. I overheard Dr. Jones say something about full rigor, but I didn’t hear if the body was in it or not.”

“Full rigor takes eight to twelve hours, depending on how warm or cool it was in the car,” Maise said, “so your timeline works. What’s next?”

“If Dr. Jones’s opinion ends up being verified by the state ME, then cause of death will be anaphylaxis. Is that right, Maise?”

“Actually, no. The allergic reaction would be a contributing factor, and those symptoms and their progression are different for everyone. But with a heart condition present, the official cause might be a coronary or asphyxiation. Either way, his death had to be most unpleasant.”

“Then don’t get into that,” Fred commanded.

I’d learned in June that Fred had a weak stomach when it came to hearing about death scenes.

“You didn’t see any other signs of violence, child?” Sherry asked.

“Violence, no. Other than the scrapes, cuts, and bruises from Sunday morning’s beat-down, I only saw a few splotches on his face and neck. No gaping wounds or, uh”—I glanced at Fred, and he gave me a go-ahead nod—“pools of blood on Cornell or in the car.”

“Then move on to suspects,” Aster said.

I flipped the page to show them Dex’s name.

“That’s it?” Fred was unimpressed. So was I.

“He’s the most viable one I have. First,” I said, ticking the points on my fingers, “he beat on Cornell for giving away two lousy hot dogs. Second, he was out of jail or holding or wherever by Sunday evening. Eric was with me when his truck zoomed through a stop sign. Third, he’s now missing.”

“What do you mean, and who told you that?” Sherry asked.

“Eric. Dex’s wife says she hasn’t seen him since Sunday night.”

“So, if Dex killed Cornell,” Aster said, “he’s done a runner.”

“And if he did not,” Eleanor said slowly, “Cornell met up with someone who took extreme exception to him being back in Lilyvale. Moreover, it was someone he trusted enough to accept food from him or her.”

“Correct, Eleanor, and you just might hold the key to finding out where he might’ve been from Sunday morning until he was killed.”

“She does?” Sherry asked.

“Yep. Eleanor, I need you to make a list of all the people who lived in your apartment complex when Cornell was the manager. The ones who are still there, too, if you know of any.”

“I know of five counting a married couple, but, Nixy, there were thirty-seven residents all together. Or there were during the time when I lived there. Some I didn’t know except to greet in passing, and most were students at the technical college. As far as I know, they’ve all moved on.”

“That’s okay. Just list everyone you remember and I’ll reach out to them for a chat.”

“All right, but the people who are still here might be more forthcoming if I went with you,” Eleanor said.

“I’d love to have you. If Vogelman has already talked to the people on your list, and used her unique cop charm, they might be ready to unload to you.”

“Nixy, child, you shouldn’t mock Charlene Vogelman. She’s doing a tough job.”

“I just don’t want her doing it at y’all’s expense. By the way, Eleanor, do you recall Cornell bullying someone who died?”

“Died?” she repeated.

“Judy overheard something to that effect in the bakery.”

“No one died while I lived at Ozark Arms, but I suppose it could’ve happened after I moved. I admit I was very lax in keeping up with the residents I knew, especially early on.”

Maise tapped her chin. “I recall hearing a young man up and moved out of those apartments in a hurry. If I’m not mistaken, he worked at the library. You could ask Debbie Nicole about him.”

“I will,” I said, and hoped she’d talk to me.

I’d gotten off to a rocky start with the pixielike librarian, but we’d mended fences since. Of course, if I asked questions related to a murder, I might end up on her bad side again. Worth the risk, I decided as I hopped off my bar stool, flipped to a clean page on the chart, and started a People to Talk To list. Next to Debbie Nicole’s name I wrote Guy who moved. While I was at it, I wrote Kathy’s name.

“You don’t suspect Kathy, do you?” Aster asked.

I capped the marker. “No, but she might remember some of the residents Eleanor doesn’t. Plus, if a lot of students rent there, Kathy may know people who know people.”

Sherry nodded. “Good thinking.”

Maise clapped her hands. “Ladies and gentlemen, we need to mobilize before the day gets away from us. Nixy, go open the rest of the artists’ boxes, and we’ll put out the pieces.”

I set the marker on the easel tray. “No, y’all are not working in the store today.”

Six rebellious faces scowled at me.

“I can handle things here. You go get the house, garden, barn, and sheds in order.”

Sherry waved a hand. “We can do that later.”

“But it’s better to do it now while you’re fresh. You don’t want to work all day and go home to a mess, do you?”

“My garden does need some TLC.”

I hid a grin. Aster didn’t merely talk to her plants and play classical music for them. She blasted artists like Jimi Hendrix and Aerosmith and sang along. She thought rock music gave her herbs more oomph.

“And I’d appreciate taking inventory in the stillroom,” Dab said.

“Then go. Take care of things at home.”

“What if that durned new detective shows up here?” Fred asked.

“I can handle her.”

“Humph.”

“You call Dinah to come over, just in case.”

“Promise, Sherry. Now y’all get out of here,” I said, shooing them toward the door. “I’ll check in with you later.”

Sherry stopped at the threshold and reached up to cup my cheek. “You’re so good to us, child.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’m glad I moved here, Aunt Sherry.”

She beamed. “Come to dinner tonight if you want.”

I muttered a vague agreement, but I intended to track down Eric and have a serious talk with him.

•   •   •

I meant to get right on all that unpacking, but I needed to make notes on the flip chart first. Too many questions crowded in. Questions I hadn’t brought up with the Six.

Where had Cornell gone after Sunday morning? Whom had he seen? Who had seen him? Having wheels, he could’ve gone anywhere, seen anyone, possibly to continue apologizing to those he’d wronged. I wouldn’t want to face people I’d bullied with my face blooming full-color bruises, but perhaps he’d seen it as part of his penance.

Then there was Dex Hamlin. I presumed he’d been driving the truck that tore through the stop sign two nights ago, but where had he been going? Did he find and kill Cornell, or was he missing for another reason? For all I knew he’d gone hunting or fishing, or off to meet a woman. Nah. No woman with an ounce of sense or self-respect would have an affair with that man.

I finished scrawling points to pursue and went into the store with the critters to do my real job. I thought the hands-on task would quiet my brain. I thought watching Amber and T.C. bat wadded packing paper and jump in and out of boxes would distract me. No such luck. I knew the wheels of justice could move at a crawl, but the wheels in my head still spun like mad.

Although I’d worked largely on autopilot, by noon I had over half of the boxes unpacked and items arranged. It helped that the artists had sold most of their stock at the festival, but I was still pleased with my progress.

Until someone knocked hard on the front door, and Vogelman yelled she had a search warrant.

Dinah’s office was just around the corner, but I didn’t want to call her before I opened the door for the police. I was half afraid the detective would kick it in. Yes, I knew that was more cop show drama than reality, but no point in delaying.

I hollered I was coming, unlocked the door, and swung it wide open. The wind chimes seemed to clink off-key.

“Ms. Nix, I have a warrant to search the premises.”

“Okeydokey, let me see my copy,” I said as Officers Bryant and Benton and Deputy Paulson came in behind her.

For the briefest instant she looked surprised, but she handed over the warrant and then instructed the officials to start searching.

“Hold it,” I said, and whipped the cell out of my pocket.

Vogelman’s eyes narrowed. “If you attempt to impede my execution of the warrant, Ms. Nix, I will arrest you.”

“I have no intention of impeding the search, but I have the right to observe every step of the way. Since I’m the only one here, aside from my pets, I’m calling for backup. Unless you want to poke into one space at time. I didn’t figure you’d want to be at this all afternoon.”

I touched the screen a few times, then smiled at the officers while the phone rang. “Ms. Souse, hi, it’s Nixy. Detective Vogelman is here with a warrant.” I paused to listen. “No, I sent them back to the farmhouse to put everything back to rights.” I listened. “Okay, see you in a few. Come on in the front door.”

I disconnected, and Vogelman scowled. “You’re really alone?”

“I am, but one of your officers can check the back. By the way, I’ve been out of peanut butter for over a week. I’m out of bread and jam, too.” I shook my head in mock dismay. “I really need to get to the store.”

She didn’t roll her eyes, but I could swear she wanted to. Instead, she looked at Doug Bryant and jerked her head at the door to the workroom. When he headed toward the back, she eyed the boxes on the floor.

“What is in these?” she asked.

“Most of them contain the leftover art from the festival. The artists who consign with us brought items back here for us to unpack and put on display.”

“You said most of them. What’s in the others?”

“My cat was in one of them, and my dog pushed another one behind the counter.” I paused and took a subtle half step toward her. “By the way, if y’all break anything in your search, you’ve bought it.”

She held my gaze, and I thought I saw respect there. “We’ll be careful.”

“Thank you,” I answered as Dinah swept in the front door and Officer Bryant strode in from the workroom.

“No one is here, Detective.”

She acknowledged him with a nod. “All right, we’ll get started.”

•   •   •

Dinah was happy to trail after the officers who searched the workroom and my apartment. I didn’t know what her hourly rate was, but it was worth the cost to have another set of eyes. Not that I believed Vogelman would condone planting evidence, or that the deputy and officers would go along with such a scheme. Come on. Searching for all things peanut was bizarre enough, and in boxes of all places. Planting peanuts on the premises would surpass all reason.

Still, Dinah was legal muscle, and someone I trusted with the keys to my place and to Fred’s locked cabinets. Since they’d propped the door open between the store and the workroom, I heard Bryant and Benton exclaim over some of Fred’s cool tools. That made me smile.

I stayed with the art and craft items. Deputy Paulson did most of the hands-on searching and didn’t seem to mind me observing.

The only hiccup occurred when Benton and Bryant first entered the workroom and saw the flip chart with all my scribbles. The last time we’d done a murder board, the Six had insisted we leave the first few pages blank. In other words, bury our notes so they could be easily hidden. I’d forgotten to heed that advice.

“Want to explain this?” Vogelman said when she saw it.

“It’s my thinking board.”

“It’s a murder board. I’ve heard you stumbled around trying to solve two murders.”

I resented the “stumbling” part but gave her a bright smile. “Apparently arranging art is a puzzle-solving skill, and I do like to use my skills to the fullest.”

I thought she’d tell me to keep my nose out of the investigation. She didn’t. She gave me a yeah, right smirk and then eyed the flip chart again. “Why did you pick this time-of-death window?”

“First, the body looked rather stiff when Ben Berryhill opened the car door to check for a pulse. Second, it’s logical that the car was parked after dark, and after most people on the street had gone to bed.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t appear you have much to think about, Ms. Nix.”

I shrugged. “There are a lot of blanks to fill in, aren’t there? I hope you’re turning up more answers.” I paused, knowing I shouldn’t say it, then did anyway. “Finding real evidence instead of dwelling on unlikely suspects.”

She didn’t answer. Just turned and stalked to the storefront.

I didn’t so much as peek at the officers or Dinah. I simply followed and resumed watching Deputy Paulson.

In fact, the search proved rather helpful in one way. The deputy first searched the shelves and kitchenette, and then started on the boxes. As she set each box on the counter and unpacked it, I had the okay to put the items on shelves. Sure, I had to artfully arrange them later, but that was my specialty.

The last place the team searched was the wall of shelves behind the antique counter. The ones that flanked an old-fashioned lift with an ornate accordion-style door.

“Awesome,” young Officer Benton breathed.

I grinned at him. “My way-back-great Aunt Sissy had it put in when she upgraded the building and turned the upstairs storage into an apartment. It’s the only way to move furniture to and from the apartment.”

“As long as you aren’t moving bodies in it,” Vogelman drawled, “I’m satisfied. Deputy, officers, we’re done here.”

When the door closed behind them, I turned to Dinah. “Thanks for coming over so quickly. Having you here helped me stay calm.”

“Nixy, except for baiting the detective about unlikely suspects, you handled that well.”

“I’ve learned a little tact from Aunt Sherry Mae and the gang.”

She chuckled. “Detective Vogelman might disagree, but she’s a reasonable and capable cop doing her job. You hang in there.”

•   •   •

I called Aunt Sherry to advise her of the search and told her Dinah had been with me from start to finish. She wasn’t thrilled Vogelman had searched the building, but she didn’t dwell on it. She asked instead if I was coming to dinner. I was, and that made her happy.

I worked steadily for two hours without hearing from Eric. I worked steadily for another hour, all the while arguing with myself about texting him. After another hour, I decided to do it.

R U in hiding? I typed.

Almost immediately he texted back: Caught a case. Talk later.

Uh-huh. Right. If I deigned to answer when he saw fit to call.

I didn’t reply to that message.

At five o’clock I flattened the empty boxes, much to the annoyance of T.C. and Amber. They forgave me when I mentioned two words: “dinner” and “farmhouse.”

Before I went up to my place, I stretched my back and critiqued the displays. They looked perfect if I did say so myself, and I’d already dusted and vacuumed, too. I’d even cleaned the window and the glass in the front door. In the morning, after the critters and I had taken our walk, I’d give the store a quick swipe to gather up any last pet hair.

While the fur babies had their kibble, I jumped in the shower and washed my hair. It took hours to dry, even with an industrial blow dryer, so I secured it with claw clips. In a ponytail, it would still be wet at bedtime, and I never went to bed with wet hair. I refused to sleep on a damp pillow. So I’d hit it with the dryer later before I crawled under the covers.

After the search warrant trauma, and then straightening all day, the Six were more cheerful than I’d dreamed they’d be.

The men were setting the huge dining room table, and I joined the ladies in the kitchen. Maise beamed at me when I nearly swooned from the aromas of dinner and told her so.

“I cooked two roasts the size of battleships. We’ll have leftovers enough for us, and you, and for Old Lady Gilroy, too. I made a chocolate cake for dessert.”

“That’s not Mrs. Gilroy’s favorite, but she won’t turn down a slice of that.”

Late-afternoon sun streamed into the room from the south- and west-facing windows, lending a soft glow to the age-darkened wood of the table and sideboard. I helped put the dishes on the table—a platter of sliced beef, two bowls of potatoes, carrots, celery, and baby onions, and two gravy boats. When everyone had full glasses of sweet tea, I took my customary seat at one end while Maise sat at the other. The Six even allowed the critters to sit under the table so long as they didn’t beg. They didn’t, though Fred had been known to sneak them a morsel of meat now and then.

The Six filled me in on their day, saying the search turned out to be a good thing. They’d reorganized, located some things they’d forgotten about, and found some items to donate.

“I opened a box that had been shoved in the corner, and there were more beakers!” Dab beamed. “I guess when I set up the stillroom out back, I didn’t have space on the shelves and just left them as they were.”

“Now Dab doesn’t have to order more,” Aster said gaily, “and we’ve washed the dusty ones that were in the box. We’re all set for another round of distilling.”

We segued into the emporium search, including Vogelman’s demeanor and Dinah’s advice to hang in there.

“She has absolutely no reason to suspect us any longer,” Sherry declared.

“No incrim’natin’ evidence whatsoever,” Fred added. “Dang foolishness wastin’ time on us, lookin’ for peanuts when they’re as common as dirt. Eric Shoar woulda known better.”

“He had to search here in April, though,” Aster said.

“I do believe the new detective is doing her job the best she knows how,” Eleanor put in, “but I’ll be pleased to be off her suspect list.”

“Amen.” Maise clapped her hands. “Are we ready for dessert?”

Over the perfectly moist cake with rich frosting, I turned the conversation back to suspects.

“Eleanor has leads for you,” Dab said.

“I started my list of apartment complex residents.” She paused, drew a folded sheet of paper from her pants pocket, and handed it to me. “It’s not complete, but it’s a start.”

I scanned the printout, which took all of two seconds since it was short, but smiled. “Twelve names and contact information, too? Eleanor, this is great! Thank you. I’ll start contacting these people tomorrow.”

“Actually, I took the liberty of calling a few myself,” she admitted. “I thought it would break the ice, so to speak.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Were the people you called open to talking with us?”

“Once I assured them we were simply gathering information, yes, but I didn’t reach everyone. Several had generic voice messages. The kind that confirm the number reached but don’t give a name.”

“We can only do what we can.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that because I do believe we might want to take a few of them to lunch.”

I blinked at her. “Are you saying some could use an itty-bitty bribe?”

“‘Incentive’ sounds more civilized,” she replied tartly. “But, Nixy, we need to be careful. Tactful. Detective Vogelman has already interviewed most of the people who still live at the complex, and a few who don’t. They are skittish.”

“I promise not to upset your friends and acquaintances, Eleanor. In fact, we can rehearse questions we need answered, and you can take the lead.”

She nodded. “I can do that as long as you jump in if you need to.”

“Excellent plan,” Sherry said. “You do tend to speak your mind quite freely at times, child.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior. Cross my heart. Oh, Aster and Maise, will you have a look at Eleanor’s list and note anyone with a special fondness for your snickerdoodles?”

The sisters exchanged a glance. “That will be a short list.”

“I know it’s a long shot, but any one bit of information might break the case. And, Eleanor, would you print copies for each of us? Maybe having it handy will jog a memory.”

“Now you’re cookin’ with gas,” Fred said, then pointed his fork at me and glowered. “Now, what’s this about you goin’ off to Eureka Springs with Eric Shoar?”