When I returned to the EMTs, they were administering CPR. “I don’t see any insulin,” I offered.
Her purse! Of course. Wouldn’t a diabetic have some sort of medical card in her wallet? I found it on the console in the front hall. A small beaded purse in ecru with a tarnished metal strap. Vintage, perhaps? I snapped it open. On top I found a black velvet ring box.
NINE
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
I make my own wrapping paper (I love your show!), and I die a little each time someone crumples it and throws it to the floor. I sneak behind them and collect it, but the following year, it always looks so sad. How can I save my beautiful paper?
—Unwrapped in Gift, Mississippi
Dear Unwrapped,
Place a protective sheet over your ironing board and iron your wrapping paper on a very low heat with no steam. Either fit it into a large, flat box, or gently roll it and insert it inside a long, cardboard tube for the next year.
—Natasha
Curiosity got the better of me, and I took two seconds to snap the box open. A fancy diamond engagement ring sparkled inside. It definitely wasn’t the honker Bonnie flashed around at her party. Still, it was a decent-size pear-shaped stone, the sort of thing a young lawyer might give his fiancée. The one missing from Beau’s sock drawer, perhaps? I set it aside and located her wallet easily, but it didn’t contain any medical information that I could see.
Beau would know. I glanced around for a home office, where she would have his phone number. I found a tiny room upstairs with a desk piled high with papers and magazines. For an organizer, she wasn’t very organized. Hoping she’d called Beau recently, I found a phone and hit the redial button.
Beau answered the phone, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s Sophie Winston, Beau. I’m at your mom’s house and she’s been taken ill. Can you tell me if she’s diabetic or has some kind of medical condition?”
I heard his breath catch.
“No. She’s not diabetic. I’m on my way.” The phone clicked off.
The door bell rang again. When I opened the door, Detective Kenner stood on the doorstep.
His cold black eyes flashed wide at the sight of me. “Sophie?”
Honestly, I was equally shocked to see him. As a homicide detective, he wouldn’t have been called unless Bonnie was dead and someone suspected foul play. “What are
you
doing here?” It wasn’t nice of me, but I blurted out the words before I realized how hostile they sounded.
“That’s what I was going to ask you. We were called to the scene of a suspicious death.”
“We?”
A woman trotted up the steps behind him and nodded at me before she passed.
“The medical examiner and me.”
“That was fast.” Granted, I’d been racing around in a panicked search for insulin, but Kenner’s presence meant the EMTs must have called in right away.
“We happened to be at the police station when the call came in.”
At least he hadn’t accused me of murder yet, as was his habit. I braced myself, though. With Wolf out of town, I didn’t have a friend on the police force.
“Merry Christmas!” he uttered softly, as though he was afraid to say it. The taut skin on his face flushed, and he pushed past me.
I followed him to the EMTs.
He stopped abruptly, and I knew he was taking in the glass on the floor and the broken window.
“I did that.” I might as well admit it up front. He would question me about it anyway. “I could see her shoe, and I thought she might need help.”
He didn’t acknowledge what I said, just went about his business with the EMTs.
The rush of adrenaline that had coursed through me began to abate. With great sadness, I realized that revival efforts had come to a halt.
Bonnie had died, much too prematurely. Poor Beau had been considering a future with Shawna, and now he would face it without his doting mother. I glanced around, wondering where Phil was. Was he staying with Bonnie over the holidays? I shivered from the combination of horror at Bonnie’s sudden death and the frosty air that filled the room through the huge hole I’d made.
Kenner rose from a squat next to Bonnie. He walked over to me and asked when I had arrived and what I had seen and done. I made it clear again that I had broken the glass to gain entry.
For once, Kenner didn’t badger me. He didn’t shout or threaten me. In fact, the beady-eyed guy whom I disliked so intensely had vanished. The prominent nose and sunken cheeks looked the same, but he treated me with such politeness and deference that I almost forgot how dreadful he’d been to me in the past.
“What were you doing here?” he asked.
“We had an appointment. She wanted to talk about making organizing videos.”
“Is there anyone who can confirm that?”
“My family.”
He nodded and stepped back to allow a gurney with Bonnie’s body to pass.
“What do you think happened?”
Kenner spoke matter-of-factly. “We’ll know more after the autopsy.” He looked away as though he was uncomfortable. “There’s no outward sign of violence. She may have died of natural causes.”
“Then why were you called?”
“The broken window, I guess.”
I studied him. He’d arrived awfully soon. Then again, maybe there wasn’t a lot going on in town on the day after Christmas.
He followed the gurney out. I picked the wrapping paper up off the floor and folded the festive print of snowflakes on a red background. Bonnie wouldn’t want it strewn about and crumpled. Her holiday cheer showed everywhere. A fat red pillar candle surrounded by holly sprigs decorated the coffee table. The only books in the room were three carefully stacked art books on a side table on which a trio of elves danced. The slender artificial tree decorated in a cheerful candy theme seemed out of place now.
Shouting at the front of the house drifted to me. I placed the paper on the table and hurried to the front door. On the sidewalk under the streetlights, Bonnie’s handsome son, Beau, yelled at Shawna, “This is your fault!”
Kenner eyed Shawna with the same sharp look that he had used on me so many times.
Shawna didn’t notice his scrutiny. She threw herself at Beau, trying to wrap her arms around his neck. “You can’t mean that! You’re upset and not thinking straight. Honey, you need me.”
Beau untangled himself from her groping hands. “My mother was right. You and your crazy family are beneath us. I never should have gotten involved with you. She’d be alive right now if I’d listened to her.”
I shot down the stairs and into the street to Shawna’s side. In as calm a voice as I could muster, I said, “Beau, I’m so sorry about your mother’s death, but Shawna had nothing to do with it.”
I expected him to burst into tears and take comfort in Shawna’s open arms, but he glared at me, which reminded me that I was a stranger to him.
“She warned me about Shawna. She said you would ruin my life—and now you have!” He stormed to a blue BMW and slid into the driver’s seat. The ambulance carrying Bonnie’s body drove away, and Beau pulled into the street behind it. Poor Shawna gripped the car door and ran alongside, begging Beau to listen to her.
He sped up and left her—a lonely figure standing in the middle of the street.
Kenner sidled up to me. “You know her?”
“You probably do, too. Shawna waits on tables at The Laughing Hound.”
“I don’t go there much. I thought you might be related.”
Because my family was beneath Bonnie and Beau?
“By marriage. My brother’s wife is Shawna’s sister.”
His jaw pulled tight, and I would have sworn he stood a hair more erect. “Given the circumstances, I don’t think we should date just now. I can’t compromise an investigation—not even for you.”
Date!? Good heavens, I’d hoped that nonsense was behind us.
As scary as it was to contemplate a date, the word
investigation
worried me more. “But there’s nothing to investigate!” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted kick myself.
What was I thinking?
It was the perfect excuse not to go out with him. But I couldn’t leave Shawna in a bad position. “You know perfectly well that there’s no sign of foul play.”
In spite of the darkness, I swear I saw a twinkle in his eye when he said, “And you know perfectly well that not all foul play means blood and gore. There are plenty of ways to kill a person.” He paused, like he was assessing my reaction. “Women are more prone to killing with poison, slow and sinister. Much tidier that way.”
Chills rippled across my back. “Shawna didn’t murder Bonnie. Beau’s reaction came from the stress of bad news—the heat of the moment. It’s not uncommon for people to want to blame someone when a loved one dies. It doesn’t mean anyone committed murder. It’s just a psychological response to the situation.”
His thin lips pulled into a smile. “You’re not going to talk me into that date until I know for sure that she died of natural causes. But it’s very flattering that you’re so eager.”
I was anything but eager.
As much as I didn’t want Shawna to be under suspicion, it did buy me a little time. When Wolf returned, we might have to finally admit that we were dating just to get Kenner off my back.
A uniformed cop I didn’t know looked out the front door and asked, “Do you have anything personal in here, ma’am?”
“No.” I shook my head, and he secured the door. I turned to Kenner and said, “Good night.” It was abrupt and reflected my discomfort, but I didn’t know what else to say. I walked away, toward Shawna.
Wind whipped her hair into her face but she made no effort to remove it. Her arms hugged her chest, as if she were cold.
“C’mon, Shawna. Let’s go home.” I wrapped an arm around her and began to walk in the direction of my house.
She toddled along, like a child who had no choice in the matter. The twinkling lights I had enjoyed so much on my way to Bonnie’s seemed wrong. Her death had brought the festive feeling to an abrupt end.
“He loves me, you know,” Shawna blurted.
“I’m sure he does.” I wasn’t at all certain that was the case, but it wouldn’t help her to know that. Besides, I was an outsider. I didn’t know much about their relationship.
“Do you think we’re not good enough for them? It’s not like they’re rolling in dough or they arrived on the
May-flower
,” she sniffed.
“Don’t be silly. Beau was ... is lucky to have you.” I couldn’t help suspecting that Bonnie had indeed said something about Shawna’s unworthiness to Beau. It came out of his mouth in the heat of the moment, not like a lie that he had to make up first. But if Shawna and her family weren’t good enough for Beau, then why was Shawna’s father good enough for Bonnie?
I opened the gate to the service alley that ran alongside my home. Through the window in the door, my kitchen looked warm and welcoming. I ushered Shawna inside. With a whimper, she hustled to Laci for a hug.
“Sophie!” cried my mom. “Thank goodness you’re here. I was getting so worried about you, but your brother and father insisted I shouldn’t interrupt your meeting by calling you on the cell phone. Have you had dinner? I hope you don’t mind that we went ahead and ate.” She bustled by me and whispered, “I had to do something to distract everyone.”
I shrugged off my coat and tossed it over the back of a chair.
Laci held her sister, her eyes closed and her face wrinkled like she was trying not to sob. She seemed to be having trouble composing herself.
“I guess you’ve already heard the bad news,” I said.
Laci whirled toward me and hissed, “Not so loud. We don’t want Jen to know Mom is missing.”
TEN
From “THE GOOD LIFE” :
Dear Sophie,
Christmas decorations have become a nightmarish chore. Digging through all the boxes in search of things I can’t find drives me batty. Other than hiring someone else to do it (fat chance), is there a way to make it easier?
—Grumpy in Garland, Nebraska
Dear Grumpy,
Instead of tossing things into boxes, take a cue from professional movers and box your Christmas decorations by room. Place all the mantel items in the same box or boxes, put the kitchen towels, pot holders, cookie containers, and decorations in another box. That way it’s fast to put everything away, and when you take it all out, everything you need will be together.
—Sophie
Shawna shrieked, “Mom’s missing?”
My mother grimaced. “
Shh
. Jen’s in the next room.” To me she said, “Thank goodness for those kittens. George took them into the family room to distract Jen.”
“I thought Marnie went shopping with you,” I said to Laci.
“When we got to the mall, she said she’d meet us back here.” Laci tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “I thought ... I thought she was planning to meet my dad and didn’t want us to know about it. But I called him and he hasn’t seen her.”
Shawna collapsed into a chair by the fire. “Not Mom, too,” she moaned. She jumped up, grabbed Laci by the arms, and shook her. “It’s all Dad’s fault. Where is he? He killed them both and ruined my life.”
“Killed? No one said Mom was dead. What are you talking about?” Laci’s scared eyes never wavered from her sister’s face.
“I don’t mean with an ax. He left Mom and broke her heart, then he toyed with Bonnie and she couldn’t take it and died.”
“Bonnie’s dead?”
Shawna launched into an explanation that bordered on hysteria, ending with, “And now Beau despises me and blames me—
me!
—for his mother’s death.”
Laci swallowed hard. “Then why do you think Mom is dead?”
“She’s not here. There isn’t any other logical explanation.”
“Well, I can’t find Wolf’s cell number anywhere.” Hannah marched into the kitchen carrying Mochie. The second she saw me, she did an about-face to leave.