Winston marched down the stairs, stomping on the polished ground, determined to locate Kristy. He couldn’t believe that he’d gotten sidetracked by her attractiveness: the curve of her figure, the tangle of her loose raven locks. The first rule of a real detective was to not be swayed by a pretty face.
Halfway down the spiral staircase, he spotted Anastasia at the foot of the curve. She called up to him. “Are you okay?”
“Peachy.”
“I heard some noises coming from upstairs.”
“I’ve got it under control.” He didn’t want to shove an old lady aside, but if duty needed him to…
Anastasia started climbing up the stairs, huffing. “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
If Winston had been in a better mood, he might have laughed at the sight of frail Anastasia, her skirt billowing out and swallowing up her body. She looked like a ghost floating up the polished wood. To hasten her ascent, he saw her lift her gauzy chiffon dress so she wouldn’t tangle up her feet.
He decided he would go around her slight figure instead of barreling into her as he continued going downstairs. Before he stepped around her, though, his eyes caught a flash of color on her feet. He looked again. “Are you wearing fuzzy socks?”
The crazy rainbow-striped foot huggers clashed with the conservative dark blue fabric surrounding her.
Anastasia looked down at her feet, startled to see the socks’ presence. “Oh. Those were a gift.”
Winston’s eyes narrowed. How many pairs of lucky socks existed in a senior home? “Perhaps from Joe?” he asked.
Anastasia stiffened and then groaned. “Yes. The man had no taste in hosiery. He wanted me to have a matching pair of socks.”
“Can I see those?”
She gave him a puzzled look but pulled off the socks and handed them over. They were definitely fitted for a woman’s feet. So not the same ones where Joe had stashed his life savings.
“What happened to his pair?”
“I’m not sure. They disappeared from the drawer they’re usually in.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Oh. Well, it’s no big deal. Joe helped me out, all right? He would sometimes pull a few dollars out of those socks and, bless his soul, chip in toward my jewelry. I figured if there was any money left, maybe I could use it for a memorial gift.”
“Several bucks? Couldn’t have gone very far, what with all that pretty bling of yours.”
Anastasia sighed and looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Look, I’m not a Russian heiress, despite what you may have heard. These jewels are fake. Most of my clothes I get from the thrift store.” Her head drooped. “I’m actually an orphan and was adopted by a fisherman and a seamstress.”
Winston felt bad pressing the issue further. He touched her bony shoulder. “Who knows, Anastasia? You don’t know what kind of family background you came from. It might’ve been royalty.”
She brightened up at his comment and caressed one of the glossy banisters before her. “Living in such a luxurious environment, I do feel like a princess.”
“Yes, Sweet Breeze fits you.”
“Thank goodness I got in before they changed the requirements. Now the residents need more than Medi-Medi and Social Security to be accepted in. Sweet Breeze requires a supplemental fee, either from a pension or family funds.”
Anastasia had a lot of insight about the place, Winston thought. “Can you shed any light on Joe’s death?” he asked. “I’m especially interested about the day he died. Did you see or hear him throwing up at all?”
“He was fine that morning. Shared the usual coffee and watched Jazzman work his magic on the piano.” She wrinkled her brow. “I did hear a noise while taking my beauty rest. I sleep best during the early afternoon because all the night snoring disturbs me. Think princess and the pea.”
“But you woke up that day?”
“Yes, I heard Joe talking in his sleep again. He said something like, ‘Oh, it’s you.’ At first, I didn’t think too much of it. I mean, we did have the mystery meatloaf for lunch. Later, he started coughing.”
“Do you know when this occurred?”
“I’m not sure when he started mumbling, but the coughing happened right after two.”
“How did you get that time?”
“I looked at the clock. I didn’t want to miss bingo. I’m a pro at the game.” She pointed at her large topaz ring. “I paid for this beauty with one of my winnings.”
“Did Joe ever stop coughing?”
“No. In fact, it got worse. That’s when I called for Kristy to check on him again.”
“What do you mean, ‘again’?”
“Well, Kristy always goes to Joe’s room at one thirty to start his dialysis. He made those retching sounds for so long I got worried.”
“Nobody else entered his room before Kristy checked on him the second time?”
“I didn’t hear anybody except Kristy. You know, there’s a creaking that comes from a loose board outside my room. Everybody squeaks it, although Kristy has the lightest step. It’s only a faint whisper with her feet.”
“I see, Anastasia.” Winston squared his shoulders and gritted his teeth as he left.