Read The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) Online
Authors: Susan Bernhardt
Tags: #Cozy Mystery
I looked at Dr. Anders in a cool manner. His presence here tonight brought me back to earth, back to my investigation. “I'm fine. Someone broke into our home. I was able to get out.”
“Lucky for you,” he said.
“You can go back in the house now if you like, Mrs. Driscoll,” Bill Murphy said. “It’s clear. We'll still need to check the area around your house.”
While Dr. Anders spoke to Bill Murphy, Elizabeth came over to me and said in a low voice, “I think I saw Dr. Anders in your study.”
“Come on, Kay,” Phil said. “Let's go back in.”
“I'll see you both tomorrow,” I said to Elizabeth and Deirdre. “Thanks again, Elizabeth.” I gave her a hug. “Are you sure about Dr. Anders?” I whispered into Elizabeth's ear. She looked at me and shrugged.
Thursday, November 10
“What happened last night…oh, so scary,” I said. “We're having the locks changed later this morning. So you think it was Dr. Anders?”
“The way he held his body, his posture,” Elizabeth said, “when he was talking to you last night...I knew it right then and there.”
“I think he knows I'm on to him. I can feel it when he looks at me—”
Deirdre stopped in her tracks and pointed at a leaf-covered clearing in the trees. I almost didn’t notice it as we walked along our usual trail. “Let's take this path through the woods,” Deirdre said. “I've always wondered where it comes out.”
“How many acres of woods does the campus have?” I asked, not wanting to walk for hours around an endless labyrinth of trees.
Elizabeth hesitated, sounding unsure. “Close to one hundred?”
“Oh, only one hundred,” I said, smiling.
We followed Deirdre into the woods. The footpath impinged on the north branch of the Sudbury River.
I beheld the vibrant oranges and yellows of the autumn trees. “The colors are spectacular.”
“This is the most gorgeous time of year,” Deirdre exclaimed, turning a full circle to take in the view. She stopped and alternated glances between the two of us. “So what do you think the real story is with the cut on Anders' face?”
“Margaret.” I said.
“Wow! That's quite to the point,” Deirdre said.
We crossed over a footbridge, turned right, and climbed a steep bank coming out to a small meadow. The fallen leaves from the trees surrounding it did not cover the clearing like they did the path. The green grass of summer still danced in this hidden place. “This looks like an enchanted meadow,” Deirdre said, delight showing on her face.
In the distance we saw some rocks arranged in a circle. As we came closer, the flat rocks turned out to be actual benches, rough-hewn, but comfortable enough to sit on. Deirdre went over to try one out.
“Look at these seats,” Deirdre said. “There are sayings engraved on them.”
“Must have been a student art project at one time,” Elizabeth said, examining one of the benches as she approached. “They look like they have been out here for a while.”
There were at least ten flat seats that at once reminded me of wide gravestones, each covered with a grayish-green moss. We walked around reading the sayings. Some dealt with love, others darkness and foreboding, others just seemed like riddles. “These are fascinating. Listen to this. It seems so appropriate,” I said to Deirdre.
In the quiet of the morning
You only have to rise
To feel something's wrong.
Uncontrollable circumstances
Tense the air and you know
Something's going to happen.
“It has an aura of relevance,” Deirdre said.
“What about the ones dealing with love? Those move me,” Elizabeth said with a wistful smile.
I continued to walk around reading the sayings. “It's strange. So many seem similar to what I have been feeling since the troubles in Sudbury Falls.”
“Fate,” Deirdre said. “It's fate that we came upon these.”
“Perhaps this is what led us down this path,” Elizabeth said and looked at me. The inevitable eye-roll I expected did not appear today. Instead, she had a little gleam in her eyes.
“
This one feels like an omen,” Deirdre said.
Sometimes there are things more crucial than survival.
“Deirdre, that's eerie. On a lighter note, I love this one,” Elizabeth said.
Walking in the park
Arms around each others' waists
The only thing in the world that matters
Is you and me
A tiny tear came out of nowhere in the corner of my eye. There was a time, not too long ago, when just the sight of Phil or even just the thought of him, filled my heart with joy. I looked away and wiped my eyes, trying not to have Elizabeth and Deirdre notice. Maybe I just needed a night of uninterrupted sleep.
Later with bodies intertwined
Enchantment.
“Just how I feel about John. The desire to be with him sometimes,” Elizabeth gently shook her head, “it's so strong, I can think of nothing else.”
“I'm happy for you, Elizabeth.” I had heard this from Elizabeth so many times, about so many men. But in this moment, I was, without a doubt, happy for her.
“Yep, just thrilled, Elizabeth,” Deirdre said, an air of sarcasm registered on her face.
“This one feels almost like a clue,” I said. “It makes me think of Sherman.”
Amazed at the onslaught of words heard
Explanations were given.
Causes and consequences
All told.
“I'm going to meditate on it,” Deirdre said. “There's something about it I sense is important. Something we have been missing, something obvious.”
“An important piece of the puzzle,” I said. “I have my cell with me. I'm going to take photos of the mystery-related sayings,” I said. “They're worth remembering.”
“What about the ones dealing with love? I should take photos of those,” Elizabeth said.
“Whatever, Elizabeth. Kay, please send me the photos of the mystery ones.”
We continued on through the woods.
“Is Phil home?” Elizabeth asked.
“Doubt it. I'm sure he's left for school. Why?”
“I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone. What if Anders comes back?”
“Elizabeth, I doubt anything is going to happen during the day. Don't worry. I'll be fine.” I sure hoped I would be.
* * * *
After opening the front door, I heard noises coming from the study. I removed my shoes and tiptoed across the living room floor to grab the fireplace poker on the way to the study. I peeked around the corner into the room. Phil was printing something from the computer. He looked up and saw me standing there. The page finished printing. Perhaps a bit too quick, he removed the paper and put it in his school folder.
“Still working on prep for school?”
“I didn't hear you sneaking up. I'm printing a mixolydian mode sheet.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I thought you were gone. I was afraid when I heard noises in here.”
“I understand after the shock you had yesterday. Kay, I'm late. Have to finish.”
I leaned the poker against the desk and sighed. “Could you skip class just this once? Play hooky. We could have a great day together.”
I watched Phil's long, slender fingers continue to key on his computer while he spoke. Those magic fingers. “Sorry. I can't.”
“I'm afraid to be here alone. Elizabeth told me this morning she thought for sure Dr. Anders broke in.”
“I sprayed several layers of lacquer yesterday on my guitar. It's crucial I spray the rest of the layers today before yesterday's harden. If Elizabeth saw Dr. Anders last night, why didn't she say anything about it to the police?”
A few moments of silence passed. I had this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Do you ever think life is just going by? By us...that is?”
Phil looked up and held my gaze with his dark eyes. How those eyes used to fascinate me, stop my heart in a flash. What am I saying? “Used to” was just a few days ago. Phil had shadows under his eyes like he hadn't slept well. He stood up, kissed the top of my head and said, “I'll make sure I'm home by six o'clock. Let's eat out. You choose the place.”
“Sounds great.” We smiled at each other as he closed the front door behind him.
After Phil left, I readied Will's room for the weekend. The locksmith arrived to change the deadbolts. While he was here, I looked through my recipes in search of a birthday cake to make for Saturday. I decided on my New York Cheesecake. It was dangerously unhealthy, but the best cheesecake I've ever had. Will loved it.
At two o’clock, Deirdre rang the doorbell rang. I grabbed a warmer coat out of the closet, happy to be leaving the house. I still felt a little unsafe in the house alone. We started walking.
“This morning after our walk, I went to Marissa's to pick up these éclairs for Sarah Moeller.” Deirdre showed me the box. “While I waited, I saw Dr. Anders having coffee. After he left, I mentioned the cut across his face to Marissa. She said he had it Wednesday morning when he came in to the patisserie.”
“Wednesday morning? His face was fine when he left the free clinic Tuesday night.”
“What happened between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning?”
“Again, Margaret,” I said.
“Can't be...another murder? Don't you think a third death would be too much for people to believe, could be a coincidence?”
“You'd think so.” I shook my head. “I guess not, if they are reporting them in the Journal.”
“I feel like we should be doing something. Take a look around Margaret’s house. Check out her knives. See if we can find any signs of blood.” Deirdre shrugged, looking at me for a cue.
“I don’t know. Elizabeth does have a knack for getting into houses. Although, if we get caught, we could get pinned for trying to cover something up or destroying evidence. Or worse, Murphy could try to blame us for her death.”
We walked up the steps to Mrs. Moeller’s front door, rang the doorbell, and waited. I looked around. I loved the quiet dignity of her old Victorian home. I looked next door. Margaret’s house stood there as it ever had but seeming more mournful, as if displaying a feeling of loss. I looked sadly on until I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door from inside Mrs. Moeller’s house.
A pleasant looking octogenarian, slight in build with narrow shoulders and snow white hair, answered the door. Her gentle features lit up in a smile of welcome when she saw the two of us standing there. “Hello, Sarah. We thought we'd come over to see how you are faring after the shock you had yesterday morning,” Deirdre said.
“How kind. Won’t you and your friend please come in?”
As we entered, I noticed her home had a fresh smell of polish and soap. From the main foyer, arched entrances led to the dining room on the left and to the living room on the right.
“This is Kay Driscoll,” Deirdre said as she handed Mrs. Moeller the box of éclairs.
“Hello, Mrs. Moeller.”
“I'm pleased to meet you, Kay. Please call me Sarah.” She turned to Deirdre. “Thank you, Deirdre,” Sarah said looking at the éclairs through the cellophane top. “They look delicious. Why don't I put a pot of coffee on, and we can have these.”
“We've both just eaten. Save them for your dessert tonight.”
Sarah led us into the living room. “I'll just put these in the kitchen. Make yourself at home.”
I walked over to the massive old, leaded glass windows and admired their stunning leaf pattern. Several tall plants stood in front of the windows. The room was filled with greenery. A wrought iron staircase led to the second floor with a balcony overhead. Above the balcony, ornate crown moldings bordered the cathedral ceiling. The house seemed so orderly, I wondered how someone her age could keep up with it. Deirdre and I settled down on a cameo back sofa that faced an art deco fireplace just as Sarah entered the living room.
“I came to visit Margaret on Tuesday afternoon,” I said.
Sarah sat down next to us on a tapestry-covered occasional chair. She was wearing a beautiful gray cable knit cardigan, which I bet she had knitted herself, and navy twill trousers. “Yes, I saw you when you were leaving. Isn’t it terrible what happened?”
“Margaret was always so full of energy and life. When I saw her Tuesday, she seemed different. Crestfallen, tired, like a woman without hope.”