Flipped Out (13 page)

Looking at the pile in the saucer, it was amazing that she could have accumulated that much ash in just the day and a half she’d been here. She’d have had to have been chain smoking the entire time she was in her room. Funny that I hadn’t seen her smoke a single cigarette all day yesterday. I’d have thought the acrid scent of smoke would have been hanging in the air, too, but it wasn’t.

I looked around but saw nothing else of interest in the sitting room, so I made my way to the door to the bedroom.

Nina was on the bed, propped up against a mound of pillows, clutching a tissue in her hand, her eyes red and puffy from crying. The Kleenex box was next to her on the nightstand, and crumpled tissues littered the bed. Derek stood at parade rest, legs apart and arms folded across his chest. When I walked in, they both turned to me.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” I smiled.

Nina cleared her throat. “I’m all right.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She was obviously distraught, enough to barrel through a box of tissues so far.

Nina waved my condolence away. “I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard,” she confessed in a voice that was husky from tears. “I hadn’t even seen Tony for twenty years. But after what happened . . .”

She broke off.

“Something happened yesterday?”

But Nina shook her head. “Nothing happened yesterday. We just . . . didn’t part on the best of terms twenty years ago. And now . . .” She shrugged, sort of helplessly. It was weird to see the capable, put-together, professional woman we’d met yesterday look so lost.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, since there really wasn’t anything else to say. Sure, I wanted to push her, to try to figure out why she and Tony had parted on bad terms more than twenty years ago, but it wasn’t any of my business, and she probably wouldn’t answer me anyway. “Um . . . is there anything we can do for you? Someone we can call? Do you want me to ask Fae to—”

Nina shook her head. “No. I just . . . I want to be alone.”

It seemed to be a day for channeling Garbo. I glanced at Derek. He made an almost imperceptible shrug before addressing himself to Nina. “Kate’s downstairs if you need anything. And you’ve got my number. I’ll be happy to ask my dad to stop by if you think you might want . . .”

But Nina shook her head again. “It isn’t that I don’t appreciate it. But I’ll be fine. I just need some time by myself.”

“Sure.” Derek started moving toward the door. “Avery?”

“Coming.” I glanced again at Nina, feeling like I should say something more. The best I could come up with was a reiteration of, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She nodded, and I could see tears gathering in her eyes again as I left the room behind Derek.

He closed the door to the suite with a soft but definite click, and turned to me. We exchanged a look but no words until we were halfway down the stairs and away from the door. Then—

“What did you tell Wayne about Melissa?” Derek asked, glancing over his shoulder at me.

“Me?” I was two steps behind, so we were almost at eye level. I actually had him beat by a few inches, and those beautiful sky blue eyes looked directly into mine when he stopped and turned. I saw a hint of worry in their depths. “How do you know I talked to him about Melissa?”

“Heard you through the door.”

“Why did you ask, if you could hear us?”

“I could hear you,” Derek said, “but I couldn’t hear every word.”

“Oh. Well, I just told him that when we were there, I noticed two wineglasses in the kitchen. Two used glasses, I guess from last night. With an empty bottle of wine. Bordeaux. The one you said was her favorite.”

“So?” Derek said, but I noticed he didn’t meet my eyes.

“So it looked like she had someone over last night. And if she was engaged to Tony, it doesn’t seem likely it would be another man, right? So maybe Tony stopped by after he dropped Nina off. And maybe one thing led to another, and . . .”

“And Melissa stabbed him six times with the corkscrew and then he dragged himself down the stairs and into his car and drove himself over to the house on Cabot Street because he mistook it for the hospital?”

“There’s no need to be snide,” I said.

Derek looked at me for a second before he blew out his breath. “I’m sorry, Tink. You’re right. Listen, I’m gonna wait up here and have a word with Wayne when he comes out, OK? Why don’t you go back down to the kitchen and see what’s going on? Keep Kate and Shannon company.”

“Sure,” I said. Although I couldn’t help feeling a little as if I’d gotten the brush-off as I made my way down the stairs to the first floor.

By the time I got to the kitchen, Fae had gone to her room. Maybe she had noticed the tension that hung heavy in the kitchen and thought it better to excuse herself. The atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a Skilsaw.

However, no one was talking about it. Kate and Shannon were deep in a conversation about upcoming reservations for the B&B, while Josh was just staring into space, looking moony. I sat down across from him in Fae’s former seat.

“How’s it going?”

His eyes focused, and he grinned. “Great.”

“I’m sorry we don’t have any work for you today.”

“That’s all right. I can find things to keep me busy.”

No doubt.

“Did Fae say anything about going out last night? Or anything she might have been doing?”

“She was with me,” Shannon said, from the other end of the table. “We watched a couple of movies and then went to bed. At least I did. Around eleven thirty.”

“Would you have heard it if she left? Or came back?”

“Not necessarily,” Shannon admitted, with a sheepish look at her mother. “We had a couple of glasses of wine each, and a lot of pizza, and I was tired. Housekeeping is hard work, and Mom kept me hopping most of the day yesterday. I locked the back door, and then I dropped right off to sleep when I went to bed. If someone had made a ruckus, I’m sure I would have woken up, but if they were quiet—and they probably would have been, since they all knew I was down there—I can’t be sure I would have heard them. Especially if they left by the front door.”

I nodded. “And you keep spare keys, right? Just in case someone has to leave or come home late?”

Kate nodded. “Nina asked for one when she left. She didn’t know when she’d be back, and if it was after eleven, she didn’t want to have to wake anyone up.”

“Except she came in earlier—around ten thirty. What happened to the key?”

Kate and Shannon exchanged a look. “She said she left it on the console in the foyer.”

“Was it there this morning?”

“I didn’t look,” Shannon said. “What are you thinking, Avery?”

I shrugged apologetically. “If Nina came home at ten thirty and left the key on the console in the foyer, anyone could have taken it and gone back out. Right?”

“You’re not thinking that Fae . . .” Josh began, already affronted on her behalf, even though he hadn’t so much as taken her on a date yet.

“I’m not thinking anything,” I said. “I’m just checking. Did you really not hear Nina come home last night, Shannon? If it was around ten thirty, you were still up.”

Shannon shook her head. “I didn’t. Fae and I were in my room with the TV going. And there are two or three doors, at least, between my room and the front hall.”

Right. So Nina could be telling the truth, and she really had come home at ten thirty and gone up to her room without anyone seeing her. Or she could be lying to try to establish an alibi, because she’d killed Tony at ten thirty or eleven.

From out in the front hall, I heard a slithering sound, and then a sort of rattling, metallic slap.

“Mail slot,” Kate said at my questioning glance.

“I’ll go.” Shannon jumped up and headed out through the swinging butler door. Josh watched her go, but distractedly, like he wasn’t really paying attention. More like it was his habit to watch Shannon, but right at the moment, his thoughts were occupied elsewhere and he wasn’t really aware of what—or who—he was looking at.

“So you and Fae are going to Guido’s tonight,” I said into the silence.

Josh turned back to me from the still-moving door. “That’s right.”
And what’s it to you?
was implied but remained unsaid. Josh isn’t rude, at least not directly.

“She seems nice,” Kate said peacefully; the perfect stepmother. “Not that I know her well, but from what I’ve seen.”

Josh nodded, and I swear his eyes lit up. But before he could say anything, Shannon was back, with a small stack of mail in her hand, as well as a key. “Here. It was on the console, just like she said.”

She dropped it on the table. Stopping between Kate and Josh, she proceeded to sort through the cards, envelopes, and circulars that had arrived, muttering under her breath as she put everything into piles. “Bill, bill, deposit check—look, Mom; the Fergusons finally got it together—
B&B Today
magazine, junk mail, more junk mail, a postcard from Paige . . .”

“Where’s Paige?” I asked, reaching for it. Josh, who had been doing the same thing, pulled his hand back.

Paige Thompson is Shannon’s best friend, or maybe she’s Josh’s best friend, or if the two of them are best friends, then maybe Paige is the third wheel. Whatever. She’s a nice girl, as small and slight and fair and unobtrusive as Shannon is tall, dark, and dynamic, and I was chagrined to realize that until now, I hadn’t even realized that I hadn’t seen her for weeks.

The postcard had a photograph of a funicular on the front, with a Victorian building with a little cupola on top, all of it painted sort of lipstick red with teal accents. A curved sign on the side wall of the building said 1870 and Monongahela Incline.

“Pittsburgh,” Josh said, at the same time as Shannon explained, “She’s gone home with Ricky. To meet his family.”

Ricky and Paige had developed their relationship with the slow deliberation of two turtles, but it seemed like they were getting serious if she’d been invited home to meet the family.

Shannon nodded when I said as much. “They took forever to admit they even liked each other, but now they’re talking marriage.”

“Wow. Already?”

“I always figured Paige would marry young. She’s the type who wants to be settled with a husband and a bunch of kids.”

“What about you?” I asked, handing the postcard off to Josh after skimming the message on the back:

“I’m not in a hurry,” Shannon answered, without looking at me. “The world’s full of men.” She turned to her mother. “Look, here’s another letter for Nina Andrews.”

She held out a small ecru-colored envelope with Nina’s name and “c/o Waterfield Inn” on the front. The name and address were typed in faded, old-fashioned letters, the kind you get from an ancient manual typewriter when the ribbon is almost completely dried up and the keys hit at different strengths and don’t go in straight lines. It looked like a clue out of on an old-fashioned legal thriller, starring Perry Mason or Hercule Poirot.

“Did you say ‘another’?” I inquired.

Kate nodded. “There was one yesterday, as well. Looked the same as this one. I gave it to her when the crew got home yesterday evening. Before she went upstairs to get ready for her date with Tony.”

“Strange that she should be getting personal mail here in Waterfield. Especially more than once. What’s the postmark say? Is it local?”

Kate peered at it and shook her head. “Looks like it says Missouri.”

“Nina said her first job was in the Midwest. Where she and Tony worked together. Maybe it was in Missouri.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Kate said. She got to her feet. “I’ll take it up to her.”

“Maybe it’s from someone they both knew back then, who knew that Tony lived here, and who was letting Nina know she might run into him,” Shannon suggested.

“Maybe.” I turned on my chair to watch Kate walk toward the door. “Did she say anything about the one you gave her yesterday?”

Kate shook her head.

“Did she open it while you were there?”

But Kate said Nina hadn’t. “I’m sure it’s just a friendly note from someone she knows, Avery. Nothing to do with anything.”

“Right.” I bit my bottom lip.

“Why are you so interested?” Shannon wanted to know.

I turned to her. “No reason. It just seems like an interesting coincidence. Nina comes to Waterfield, she knows Tony from the Midwest, someone from Missouri is writing letters to her, and now Tony’s dead.”

“I’m sure a coincidence is all it is,” Kate said, and ducked out the door.

Perhaps. But suddenly that pile of ashes on the saucer in the sitting room of the suite was taking on a whole ’nother meaning. Maybe Nina hadn’t been smoking, after all. Maybe she’d been burning correspondence.

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