Authors: Lucy Arlington
Sean squeezed my hand and nodded. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, and it’s not yet conclusive,” he said, “but the coroner is fairly certain that Marlette died from anaphylactic shock brought on by bee venom, probably administered by injection. It appears from your sleuthing that Luella might have been instrumental in that.”
By the time I had reached the point in the narrative in which Bentley told me to drive to Dunston in search of
Luella, two burly men wearing coveralls appeared at the front door.
“Sir,” they said, clearly addressing Sean. “We’re ready to bring her out.” They sent a fleeting glance in my direction, and their message was clear. Luella’s body was on the gurney behind them, and they were concerned about my witnessing the transfer of her sheeted form to the van marked
CORONER
.
A flash of a similar scene, in which Marlette’s was the body on the gurney, made me want to escape the sight of another covered form being wheeled by as I watched, feeling guilt ridden and helpless.
There was a wicker chair with a floral cushion on the side of the wraparound porch. I pointed to it and told Sean, “I’ll wait for you there.” He responded with an empathetic nod.
Sitting on the edge of the chair, I glanced at the slightly raised window next to me. The view inside the house was obscured by a set of frilly lace curtains, but voices escaped through the opening.
“Looks like the victim was struck in the back of the head while she was leaning over to get an object from the nightstand,” stated a man in a low, emotionless tone. “She fell where she was, leaving a blood smear on the side of the comforter. The assailant then moved her onto the bed.” He paused. “I can’t say for certain until I get her back to the lab, but I’d guess she was still alive at this point and her attacker finished the job by smothering her with a pillow. We’ve got it bagged, but there are shallow rips on one side as though the victim bit through the fabric.”
I swallowed hard, wishing I could block out the horrible image, but I saw Luella, crippled by the blow to her head, shocked and reeling with pain, fighting for air with the last
of her strength. I lowered my head in my hands and fixed my eyes on the ghost marks in the wood grain of the porch floor, but I couldn’t block out the words that continued to seep out the window.
“This is what the vic was likely trying to retrieve from the nightstand. Don’t see one of these every day.”
A silence. “A pearl-handled lady’s pistol. Antique. Recently cleaned.” Sean’s admiration for the weapon was evident in his voice. “And loaded.”
“Yes, sir. Looks like the victim knew her assailant was a threat and so she was preparing to arm herself, but he struck her with this angel sculpture before she could get to her gun.”
I heard the rustling of a bag and imagined Sean examining the weapon that had been brought down on Luella’s head with enough force to drive her to her knees, to create the wound that resulted in the red stain on her white cotton pillowcase. I couldn’t stop seeing that red, which was even brighter and more electric than Luella’s hair, lovingly fanned out in a vain attempt to hide a terrible and irreversible deed.
“That’s not an angel.” This from the policewoman with the kind eyes. “Looks like Eros, the God of Love. See how he’s holding a bow and arrow? I think it’s a copy of the Eros fountain in Piccadilly Circus. In London,” she added for good measure. “Makes sense, considering what Ms. Ardor did for a living. Her whole library is loaded with romance novels. Many of them are dedicated to her.”
“Nice work, Officer Burke,” Sean told her, and then their voices became fainter as they moved out of the room.
I drew the blanket Sean had given me tighter about my shoulders. How I could be chilled in the middle of a Southern summer afternoon was beyond reason, but so was everything else that had happened today.
It seemed like the police would have little difficulty proving how Luella had died, but there were two significant questions remaining. Who had killed her? And why?
I still didn’t understand why she’d felt threatened by Marlette after all this time. Nothing made sense. If anyone should have been seeking revenge, that person was Marlette. And yet he had retreated from the world, only emerging to seek representation for his novel.
“That
must
be the key!” I whispered to potted ferns and the languid air. “Jude lied to me. He took the query letter off the bouquet before tossing it in the Dumpster. I bet he was helping Luella because he was probably her lover. Did they plan Marlette’s murder together?” I exhaled as a dreadful realization washed over me. “Could Jude also be Luella’s killer? But why?”
Suddenly, I wanted to get far away from this place. I knew Sean would need me to make an official statement, but I couldn’t relate my account again. Not right now. I had to be alone. I desperately craved quiet and wished I could simply turn around and start climbing the trail winding up Red Fox Mountain. I wanted to sit silently in Marlette’s hidden meadow until the world made sense again.
The more I pictured the sunlit woods, the more I needed to be there. It was not just a passing desire. Dunston was no place for me to recover from the shock. I had to get back to Inspiration Valley, and I told this to the honey-eyed policewoman, who had returned to the driveway and was watching the coroner’s van drive off.
“I’ve already given Officer Griffiths my statement,” I explained and passed her the blanket Sean had placed on my shoulders. “I need to bring my boss’s car back, but I promise to drop by the station before the end of the day.”
“I suppose that would be all right,” the pretty officer said. “It’s been quite an ordeal for you. We know how to contact you if we need to.”
Before driving off in Bentley’s BMW, I dialed the number to her direct line.
When Bentley answered, I did my best to keep my voice from shaking. “I have really bad news. Luella’s been…murdered.” I had to push the word out. “And I was the one who found her. The police are at her house. I’m going to take the rest of the day off.”
Bentley wanted details, and I explained what I could before telling her I’d park her car in front of the agency and leave the keys in her mailbox. Knowing I didn’t have it in me to face my coworkers, I did just that and quietly left the building.
I stood on the sidewalk, wondering exactly what I could do to escape from the chaos swirling within me, and I had a sudden image of the yellow scooter parked outside the Secret Garden. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to put on the black helmet, become invisible to the world, and drive until I ran out of gas.
Clutching to this vision, I set off for the Secret Garden.
Addison was sitting on one of the little stone benches in the outdoor décor and statuary area, chasing a bag of corn chips with a jumbo-sized bottle of Mountain Dew. She smiled as I approached.
“Hey! I heard you might wanna buy my scooter.” She offered to share her snack, but I shook my head.
“I’ll pass on the chips, thanks, but I am interested in the scooter.”
She pulled a Hello Kitty key chain out of her apron pocket. “Take it for a spin. As long as you want. If you like
it, I’ll give you a really good deal. No one else has been lining up to buy it, and I need cash to pay the insurance bill on the Volvo. My brother bought me a gorgeous Duke blue wagon and offered to pay for the insurance, too, but I’ve got my pride.”
“What a gift,” I said, thinking that the price tag of a new Volvo station wagon was well over thirty thousand dollars. “Your brother sounds very generous.”
“He is. He’s actually my half brother, but he’s the only good thing that came out of my mom marrying again after my dad died. I’d never tell my brother this, but his father’s kind of a jerk.” Addison’s eyes grew glazed, and she looked away. “
Gary
didn’t buy my brother a thing,” she said, pronouncing her stepfather’s name with a hiss. “As a kid, he had no toys, no new clothes, nothing. Then
Gary
marries my mom and buys me everything under the sun to impress
her
. Guess it worked, because she’s still with him.”
I couldn’t think of much to say in response, so I nodded in mock understanding.
Addison gave me a self-effacing grin. “Sorry. Too much info. Here.” She held out the key chain. “Seriously, keep it until closing time.”
I closed my fingers around the keys. This was exactly what I had hoped would happen. “Great. When do you get off work?”
Addison pulled a face. “My shift ends at six. If you want the scooter, I’ll sign the title over to you the second I hang up this apron for the day.” She told me her asking price and, after glancing at her watch, said she needed to hop on a register before her manager returned from his break.
In the parking lot, I put on Addison’s helmet, released the kickstand, and turned on the engine. I’d had a scooter
during my college days and hoped I could operate this sleek, chic Vespa GTS with the same ease.
I needn’t have worried. Unlike my old scooter, which required manual shifting by moving the gear switch on the left handlebar, this Vespa was a variable automatic, so I only had to worry about accelerating with the right handlebar and braking by squeezing the brake levers like on a bicycle. Within minutes, I was racing through the streets of Inspiration Valley, the yellow scooter zipping through the open air like a goldfinch released from its cage. By the time I hit the road leading to Althea’s house, the tension I’d been holding between my shoulder blades began to dissolve and my spirits lifted.
As I passed by fields of buttercups and grazing cows, I knew that I was going to blow the remainder of my savings on the Vespa. I hadn’t felt this carefree for a long, long time, and damn it, I was due for a measure of happiness.
Pulling up in front of my mother’s house, I couldn’t help but grin to see her standing on her front porch, hands on her hips, shaking her head with disapproval.
“Aren’t you a bit long in the tooth for that kind of toy?” she asked. “You look like you’re ridin’ SpongeBob, for cryin’ out loud. And what are you gonna do when it rains?”
I put down the kickstand, took off the helmet, and shrugged. “Wear a raincoat, I guess. Listen, Mama, I can’t depend on you to chauffeur me around. I’m already living in your house rent-free. I’ve got to start working my way back to an independent state.”
My mother put her hand over her heart. “You were
meant
to stay here a spell, to figure out what you want from this life. Same goes for Trey.” She frowned at the scooter. “But if you’re tryin’ to look like a teenager, you’re gonna have to
stuff yourself into those god-awful skinny jeans. No more banana bread for you.”
“I’ll skip the bread today, but I could sure use some coffee. Something horrible has happened.” Hugging the helmet against my abdomen, I drank in my mother’s familiar face and didn’t bother to control the tremor in my speech. “I need to…I think it would help to talk about it.”
She beamed. “That’s how we women deal with stuff. We spit it all out, kind of like a hairball, and then we clean up the mess and move on. Come on inside, sugar.”
In the bright and cozy kitchen, I told her about Luella. When I was through, Althea’s main concern was that she had failed to foresee my coworker’s demise in one of her visions.
“I can’t understand it,” she said, pacing back and forth between the stove and the table. “I should have had a feeling, a sense of darkness rollin’ in, but I got no vibes at all.” She shook her head, nonplussed. “There’s only one explanation.”
“What’s that?” I asked, keeping the skepticism from my voice.
Althea looked past me toward the window and the mountain above us, her eyes glazing. “The person who did this didn’t mean to do it. It just happened, takin’ the killer totally by surprise.”
“I wish you could just tell me who it was,” I murmured glumly. “How can I go back into work tomorrow? One of my coworkers might be a murderer!”
My mother put her hand on top of mine. “No one’s gonna hurt you. I’ve seen your palm enough times to know that you’re gonna live a long life and—” She stopped abruptly
and cocked her head to the side like an inquisitive parrot. “Trey’s comin’.”
I followed her gaze but saw no one on the path leading from the mountain to the field. Shrugging, I took out my cell phone and, cringing at the thought of how annoyed Sean probably was, settled into a chair in the living room and listened to my messages.
The first voicemail heralded wonderful news from my real estate agent. A young couple had made an offer on my house in Dunston. I listened eagerly to the amount of the bid and Ginny’s suggestion that I make a counteroffer. I decided to call her back only after I phoned Sean to tell him that I’d be arriving at the station as soon as possible.
He had left me three messages, and it was clear by his clipped speech that he wasn’t pleased with me. I was just about to dial his number when Trey came in through the kitchen door and shouted, “Hel-loooo!”
It was a balm to hear the undisguised cheerfulness in his voice. I hurried into the next room and gave my son a hug. His strong arms enfolded me, giving my weary body a brief squeeze before he shyly let me go. He hadn’t embraced me like that for years, and I had to look away so he wouldn’t see that I’d teared up.
“Don’t mind her,” my mother said, landing a noisy kiss on Trey’s cheek. “She’s had a real rough day. Why don’t you take her mind off things by tellin’ us what mischief you’ve been up to?”
Trey raised his brows in feigned offense. “For once, I’m cool with living by the rules. I mean, I’m working like crazy, but I don’t feel like anyone’s holding me back…” He let the words hang in the air. “I dunno. I can just be myself at
the co-op.” He turned a pair of shining eyes on me. “And Mom! I went into town with Iris today to sell some of the goat products to the grocery store, and they totally loved my new package designs!”
“That’s great, honey.” I smiled at him. I wanted nothing more than to focus on my son’s optimism and vitality, but Luella’s pallid face and posed body rose up in my mind like a fishing bobber breaking through the surface of the water.
“Yeah, Iris even let me do the negotiating while she left to do some other errands in town. We traded a whole bunch of our products for things we can’t make. You know, razors, toilet paper, that kind of stuff. The manager at How Green Was My Valley said I drove a hard bargain.” Trey’s cheeks were flushed with pride.