A Clue in the Stew (A Soup Lover's Mystery) (15 page)

Chapter 36

L
UCKY GLANCED UP
at the murals on the ceiling, admiring the dark ornately carved moldings that surrounded the images. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Sophie?”

Sophie agreed. “I haven’t been here for such a long time.” She chuckled. “Probably since we were kids in high school.”

“I used to come a lot in high school, but I haven’t been back for a visit since I’ve been living in Snowflake. It’s a shame. It’s such a great building. Wish we had something like this in our town.”

“I know, but at least we have our little library. It’s something.” Sophie glanced around. “Let’s find someone who can help us.” She spotted a woman at the information desk, dressed in dark clothing with a spiky blonde haircut. Sophie nudged Lucky with an elbow. “She looks like she knows what she’s doing.”

They approached the librarian and explained what they were looking for.

“Oh, that’s interesting.” The woman leaned over the counter. “I remember my mother and grandmother talking about that fire. It must have been pretty shocking for the town in its time.”

Lucky relished the smell of polished wood and old books and a faint odor of something else. What was it, she thought, then recognized the pungent odor of the glue used to repair bindings. “Do you remember anything about it? Or the people involved?”

The blonde woman shook her head slowly. “No, not a thing. I was pretty young when it happened so I didn’t really pay much attention.” She laid her pen across the notepad she had been writing on. “But come on, I’ll take you to the little room we use for viewing and I’ll order the film from the archives.” She came out from behind the oak counter and indicated they should follow her. “Do you know the actual date you’re looking for?”

Sophie shook her head. “Sorry, no. We have an idea it was about thirty years ago, give or take a few.”

“That’s quite a ways back. I’ll have to search, but I do think we have it . . . hopefully you’ll find what you’re looking for. Follow me.” She led them to the rear of the main space, through a door that opened into a small modern cubicle with three microfilm viewers set across a counter. Three plastic chairs with aluminum legs faced the counter. “We have plans to digitize this stuff, but it hasn’t happened yet. Money’s always the issue, isn’t it? But that far back, nobody’s bothered.” Indicating the chairs, she said, “Have a seat. I’ll be back in a little while and I’ll make sure you can thread it in with no trouble.”

“Thanks,” Lucky replied. She sighed and sat heavily in one of the molded chairs. Sophie did the same. She looked at Sophie. “This may be a wild-goose chase.”

“Could be. But now I’m curious too. Besides, we do know that it really happened. Hank remembered the state trying to contact her mother and he remembered about a fire. If the little girl was ten at the time, it would have been approximately thirty years ago. But Hank might have blown the story out of proportion too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, maybe nobody died. Maybe the fire story was repeated so many times, it just grew and took on a life of its own.”

“Then why would the state be trying to contact the birth mother if the adoptive parents were still alive? Why else would they do that? If the child had been adopted and that home was no longer there and the state couldn’t figure out what to do with the little girl.”

“There could be any number of reasons. Maybe one of the parents died and the other parent was no longer up to the task of raising a child that wasn’t theirs.”

“I never thought of that. How horrible though. To give a child a home and then send her back. Can people do that?”

Sophie shrugged. “I have no idea how the whole thing works.”

They heard the door to the main room open and the woman with the spiky blonde haircut entered. She held a sturdy cardboard box of microfilm reels in her hands. “Here you go,” she said. “I’ll thread the first one in so you can see how it’s done.” Her fingers moved deftly. “Think you can do the next one?”

“Sure,” Lucky offered. “I’ve done these before.”

“Great, when you’re finished, please bring them all back to me at the front desk. This first one starts at the beginning of the year, thirty-one years ago. Might be a good idea to start there.” She turned away. “Good luck,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

Sophie pulled her chair closer to the viewing screen. “I’ll bet this was front page news, don’t you think?”

“I would think so, even though it was just a local story.” Lucky patiently scrolled through each page. “Hey, look at this. The
Gazette
was just a weekly back then. That might make our search easier.”

They stared intently at the screen as each page flipped by. Lucky rubbed her eyes to stay focused. When they had scrolled through the first year, Sophie removed the reel and threaded a second one in.

“Here we go. This is the beginning of the year—January.” Sophie returned to her chair. Lucky continued their search. Neither spoke as they watched the pages flip by.

Sophie groaned. “Stop for a second. My eyes are crossing. I don’t know how you can look at this stuff and not have your brain swim inside your skull.”

“I know,” Lucky replied, not taking her eyes off the viewing screen. “But I think we’re almost through this year. I’m not seeing anything about a deadly house fire.”

“Well, since we don’t know the date, best thing would be to finish this year and then move to the next one. If there’s nothing there, we can go back two years and forward two years. That would be the logical way to approach it.”

“Oh!” Lucky exclaimed. “I think this is it.” She peered at the screen. “Look at this—December twentieth. Just before Christmas.”

“What do you know?” Sophie breathed. She moved closer to the screen and read out loud. “‘The fire at 49 Poplar Street was first reported at eleven p.m. on the night of December twentieth. Mr. and Mrs. George Ellers and their daughter Georgina were asleep in the upstairs bedroom when a neighbor walking his dog heard glass breaking and spotted fire in a downstairs room.’” Sophie looked at Lucky. “Georgina? They must have named her after the dad.”

“Look. There’s a picture of the firemen removing a body. How gruesome!” Sophie remarked. “Story continued on page ten, it says.”

Lucky scrolled forward and they read together in silence. Finally Lucky spoke. “They did die. It says the parents were pronounced dead at the scene.”

“Anything about the little girl?” Sophie asked.

Lucky shook her head. “This doesn’t mention her. I would assume she survived if they didn’t mention her death.” She sat back in the chair and stared at the screen. “So assuming we’re right, the little girl, Georgina, lived through the fire but the parents died.” Lucky heaved a sigh. “This still doesn’t tell us what eventually happened to her.”

“Assuming this
is
Hilary’s daughter. We’re making some jumps here.”

“Maybe, but Hank did say there was a fire, and it was in Bournmouth. And this is the right time frame. It’s a decent bet. And it gives us an address. Right here in town. Let’s go check it out.”

“What good will that do?”

“How much do you want to bet there’s a neighbor who’d remember more?”

Chapter 37

L
UCKY PULLED
TO a stop under a large elm tree. New spring shoots cast a pale green wash over the street. She checked the house number to her right. “That’s 80 Poplar.” She turned in the opposite direction and scanned a manicured lot. “If that piece of property doesn’t belong to the house next door, that could have been where the house once stood.”

Sophie leaned across and stared. “If that’s the case, then the neighbors must be taking care of it. It looks more like a small planned play area for the kids. There’s a lovely lawn and a garden I can see from here. And it’s the only gap in the street.”

“The city must have torn down what was left of the house. Maybe nobody wanted to buy the land and rebuild on the same spot.”

“Superstitious, probably. If a couple died there, it might linger in people’s memories.” They were silent a moment staring at the green space. On the lawn, two children, a boy and a girl, played with a bright pink ball while a young woman seated at a bench looked on. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s go talk to her,” Lucky said, indicating the woman who was watching over the two children.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Sophie remarked.

They climbed out of the car and walked across the street. The young woman they had noticed was wearing a loose-fitting top. She was pregnant. She watched them with curiosity as they approached.

Lucky spoke first. “Hi. I’m wondering if you can help us.”

The woman smiled. “Sure, if I can.”

“It’s kind of a long story, but we’re hoping to locate someone who knew the family that once lived here. This is the lot where the house burned down, isn’t it?”

The woman opened her eyes in surprise. “Whoa. That was a long time ago. I have heard all about it”—she hesitated—“my mother and my aunt talked about it for years.” She squinted her eyes against the sun. “You know that the people who lived here died in the fire, don’t you?”

“Yes, we read about it. Their name was Ellers, right? But they had a little girl, didn’t they?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “I really can’t tell you very much.” She glanced behind Sophie. “Ally, stop that. You’re not supposed to hit your brother.” The young woman turned back to them, “The person you should talk to is my aunt. She’d remember that fire. She’s right across the street. She’s always lived in that house.” The young woman nodded in the direction of a blue two-story colonial-style house, the same one Lucky had parked in front of. Lucky heard a wailing cry and a small boy careened past and flung himself into his mother’s lap. The woman put her arms around him and absently stroked his head. “Shh, baby.” She looked over at the young girl, who was bouncing the ball on her foot like a soccer ball. “Ally, get over here, right now!” She turned back to Lucky and Sophie. “Go ahead and knock on her door. Her name’s June. Tell her you just met me. I’m April.” She smiled suddenly. “All the women in the family are named after months. I broke the mold with Ally here.” She nodded in the direction of the little girl, who had ignored her mother’s command. Lucky would have offered to shake her hand but the young woman had her hands full.

“Thanks. That’s very kind of you. We appreciate it,” Lucky replied.

“No problem.” The woman had pulled out a tissue and was wiping tears and various other juices pouring out of the little boy’s nose.

They turned away and left the garden. “I should never have kids,” Sophie muttered. “I think I’d be tempted to kill them.”

Lucky laughed. “I’ll remind you of that someday soon.”

“I can hear the ‘I told you so’ now,” Sophie whispered as they climbed the stairs to the blue house.

Lucky rang the bell and a solidly built woman in a housedress and apron opened the door. Her hair was gray and curly and pulled off her face with a headband.

“Hi. Are you June?”

The woman nodded.

“We were just talking to April, your niece.” Lucky indicated the opposite yard where the young woman was packing up to leave.

“Oh, yes?”

“We’re hoping to find someone who knew the family who lived across the street years ago.”

“Ah.” The woman’s face fell. “Yes, the Ellers family. What about them?”

“Well, we know they died in the fire. But we’re wondering if you might know what happened to their little girl?”

The woman stared at Lucky silently, then sighed. “You better come in.” She opened the door all the way and ushered them into a room filled with sunlight and bright colors, a neat but pleasantly lived-in room. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating the sofa. The woman took a chair opposite. “Liz Ellers was a good friend of mine. She was a really lovely woman. So the whole thing hit me really hard. To have that happen right outside your door and to lose a friend.” She took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter how many years go by, I still think of her sometimes.”

“It’s nice that the lot isn’t overgrown. It looks well tended.”

“Yes. We all chip in. Everyone on the street. It’s a nice place for kids to play. We don’t want to see it go all to seed. And nobody’s wanted to rebuild on that spot anyway after what happened.”

“I can understand that.”

“But you wanted to know about their little girl?”

Lucky nodded.

“To answer your question, I don’t know what ultimately happened. She was given over to the state authorities after Liz and George died. She was probably sent to Salisbury.”

“Salisbury?” Lucky asked, shooting a glance at Sophie.

“Salisbury Retreat. Now it’s a hospital and an outpatient clinic for all kinds of mental health issues.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Sophie offered. “But wasn’t it used for other things?”

“Oh, yes. It was a dumping ground for all kinds of people. They dealt with everything. Alcoholism, drug addiction, depression. Lots of people got put there just because their families didn’t want them around for whatever reason. They took in unwanted children, so maybe that’s what finally happened to the child if they couldn’t get her adopted a second time.” June looked up quickly. “You knew she had been adopted, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Lucky nodded. “We had heard.”

“Liz wanted children so badly and tried for a number of years, but finally gave up hope. That’s when they adopted Georgina. That’s the name they gave her.” She smiled at the memory. “They used to argue, Liz and George.” She looked up at them. “In a good way, I mean. Liz wanted to name the baby after her own mother, but George, her husband, was insistent. So Georgina it was. Liz was so happy when she brought that baby home. For a while at least.”

“Did something go wrong?” Sophie asked.

June stared at Sophie for a long minute. “I don’t know how to put this into words, and it sounds like a terrible thing to say, but I always felt there was something wrong with that child. She didn’t seem to . . . connect with other kids.”

“Was she just shy?” Lucky asked.

“Possibly. Whatever was going on with that girl, believe me, it wasn’t the fault of Liz and her husband. You couldn’t have found nicer people. They loved that little girl just as if she were their own,” June continued, “but after a while even Liz had to admit there was something off. She was withdrawn and strange. Daydreaming and doing odd things . . .”

“Odd, how?” Lucky asked.

“Well, one time she locked one of the neighborhood kids in their cellar and didn’t tell anyone. The little boy’s parents were frantic that entire day. They were finally ready to call the police. Georgina had told her mother . . . Liz, that she had a new friend in the cellar. At first, Elizabeth thought it was a . . . what’s the name they use for that? An imaginary friend. That’s what they call it. Now, that’s accepted at a certain age, but the girl was way past the age when that would be normal. She thought her daughter was just making things up, but as the day wore on, it started to nag at Liz so she decided to go down into the cellar. That’s where she found the little boy. He was terrified, poor little thing. Liz was horrified to think what could have happened to him. He was too frightened to cry out, and if she hadn’t gone down to the cellar, who knows?” June shook her head. “Liz had to tell the boy’s parents where she found him. It was just awful for her. After that, people really viewed the girl as strange and no one would let their kids play with her.” June continued, “And then she liked to play with matches. That was worrisome to her parents. They finally had to get rid of all the matches in the house and lock up the rest. They even threatened to punish her if she played with matches again. That’s why . . .” She trailed off.

Lucky waited, allowing the silence to lengthen, hoping the neighbor would continue. Finally she asked, “Are you saying that the little girl might have started that fire?”

June’s jaw clenched. “I can’t say that. I really can’t, but . . . how is it she was the only one to survive the fire? They found her out in the backyard, not up in her room. How did she get out there? Was she wandering around the house at night? The Fire Department felt the Christmas tree was the cause of the blaze. Those things, if they get dried out, they can go up like a bomb, all that pine sap. I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve often wondered if that little girl was fooling around with matches in the middle of the night and ended up setting fire to the house and killing her parents.” She held a hand over her mouth. “I know it’s an awful thing to say, but all these years, I’ve wondered.”

•   •   •

L
UCKY TURNED THE
key in the ignition and drove down Poplar to Main Street. Then she pulled the car over and turned off the engine. “What are you thinking?” she asked Sophie.

“Whew! We just got an earful. You know that woman’s probably talked about that fire and the little girl for years. I have to say, I have
never
heard anyone talk about a kid like that.”

“I don’t know,” Lucky said, “I’ll play devil’s advocate here. People always want to blame someone when something bad happens. Something like that, something horrible and inexplicable happening to people you love and care about. That little girl, she’s a woman now. She isn’t here to defend herself, so I’d keep an open mind. We really don’t know. And like June said, the firemen thought it was caused by the Christmas tree. That can happen. They went to bed, maybe they forgot to turn off the Christmas lights, even a spark can ignite them. I’d take it all with a grain of salt.”

“I don’t know.” Sophie shook her head. “She also said that the little girl was too quiet, strange even.”

“Maybe you’d be strange if your own mother didn’t want you and you knew you were adopted. We have no idea how old she was when she was adopted. But did anything else she said strike you?”

“Like what?”

“The Salisbury Retreat.” Lucky waited.

“What about it?”

“The woman they found strangled in the woods. She was a psychiatrist . . .”

Sophie gasped. “At the Salisbury Retreat! That’s right. That went right over my head.” Sophie was quiet a moment. “What are you thinking?”

“It seems like too many threads are coming together. This child, Georgina, whoever she is now, could very well have spent many years at Salisbury. Maybe she even grew up there. And now her biological mother is strangled. Both women—Dr. Cranleigh and Hilary Stone—were killed in the very same manner.”

“Maybe. But that’s a huge place. And you don’t even know that’s where the girl got placed. She could have been adopted by another couple. She could have been placed anywhere in the state. This doctor and the daughter might not have had any contact with each other. And how would you find out anyway? Those records are extremely confidential.”

Lucky shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to ask. You never know what you’ll find.” She turned the key in the ignition and made a U-turn heading toward the other side of town.