Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines (2 page)

She flipped the switch for the coffee pot and then went into the kitchen, chuckling at herself. There was a crime scene and she felt the need to put snacks out.

Sylvie always had something in the refrigerator. There was a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter and containers of chocolate chip cookies in the freezer. Polly had a flash of a memory from her childhood. An older couple lived down the road from her home and when she was very young, before her mother died, she would ride her bike down to spend time with Mrs. Elmwood. Marie … that was it. Marie loved making cookies and stored them in coffee cans in her deep freeze on the back porch. Whenever Polly showed up, they shared cookies and milk, and Marie usually sent a can of cookies home with her. She still loved frozen chocolate chip cookies and that memory reminded her why.

Polly arranged the cookies on a plate and carried it, along with the fruit bowl, to the conference room.

When she went back up the steps, Sarah and her young male counterpart … Polly hadn’t ever gotten his name … were loading the body onto the stretcher. “I’m begging you, Polly. An elevator. Please,” Sarah said.

“I would just as soon you never had to worry about doing this again. Maybe that’s a better deal,” Polly pointed to Thomas’s body. “Take care of him, okay?”

“We will. You know we will,” Sarah nodded. “Don’t worry. Aaron doesn’t like not knowing why people die in his territory.”

Stu was talking to a bleary-eyed Grey Linder, who was nodding and trying to peek into the middle bedroom. She heard Stu say, “Do you understand what I’m asking you, sir?”

Grey looked back at the deputy, “What? Oh, I’ve been in all night. I didn’t hear a thing.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs with me,” Stu said. “Polly said she’d make coff
ee. Do you need to put on some shoes?”

“Shoes?” Grey asked. “Oh, that’s probably a good idea. I should put those on. It might be cold outside. Just a minute.”

Stu followed as the man stumbled back into his room and Polly heard a thud.

“What was that?” she asked Aaron.

“The man is drunk as a skunk. But, if he tells us he heard nothing, he’s likely telling the truth. He was probably passed completely out. I’d love to watch Stu handle this, though. He’s always so polite.”

In a few moments, Stu Decker came out, holding Grey Linder’s arm. “Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself, sir?”

“I’m fine. The rug tripped me.”

“Yes sir, they have a tendency to do that sometimes. They’re a menace.”

Stu steered him around and over the blood trail. “Thanks for the coffee, Polly. I think we’ll need it.” He led the man down the steps and she shook her head.

“What about Lila Fletcher?” she asked.

“She isn’t answering the door. I’ll try once more and then I’ll ask you to open it for me.”

She followed Aaron across the hall and waited while he knocked. “Miss Fletcher? It’s Sheriff Aaron Merritt. We’ve had an incident and I’d like to speak with you. Would you please come to the door?”
He listened and waited, then motioned to Polly.

She swiped her phone and the door unlocked.
Aaron opened it and flipped on the light to find no one there.

“Didn’t
the log say she came in just after midnight?” he asked.

“Yes,” Polly replied, “but the program doesn’t register when someone leaves. It only sees the key being used to enter the room.”

“That makes sense,” he said. “Is it normal for her to be out late?”

“I really don’t know,” Polly said. “It never occurred to me to pay attention.”

Aaron nodded and turned the light off, then pulled the door shut. “If you see her, would you call? We need to speak with her.”

“Sure,” she said. “Anything else?”

“We’ll be here for a while. Can you go back to sleep with all of this going on?”

Polly smiled, “I doubt it. Will I have to clean up all this blood? And how bad are things in Thomas’s room?”

“Not tonight, Polly. You don’t want to look at it tonight. Why don’t you go back to your apartment and try to rest. Watch television or something to drown us out.”

Polly lifted the left side of her upper lip and tried to growl.

“Polly, there is nothing you can do and you’ll just be in the way. Thank you for helping us tonight, but you need to go away and let us work.”

“I don’t like that. The man died on my doorstep.”

“I know. But go now, okay?”             

She turned back to her apartment. “I’m going to tell Lydia you were mean to me,” she said.

“I’m fine with that,” he laughed. “Good night.”

CHAPTER TWO

Her body ached and there was something heavy pressing on her. It took Polly a few attempts to just get her eyes fully open because she was so exhausted. Her confusion continued when she woke and discovered that Obiwan was asleep on top of her. Why was she on the couch? What time was it?

Then it hit her. She’d fallen asleep even with all of the activity in the hallway. When the sheriff ordered her back to her apartment, she had sat down and relaxed, and that brought on a flow of tears and she’d curled into a ball at the end of her sofa. Sometimes things were just more than she could handle.

Her eyes began to fill again and she sat up, pushing the dog to the floor. Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands, she let the tears fall. She felt so alone.

What time was it? The phone lay on the coffee table and she swiped it open. Seven o’clock.

“I’m going to be late. Last night was crazy,”
she texted to Eliseo.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s Saturday morning and I have both Jason and Rachel here to help,”
he texted back immediately.

“Thanks.”
Polly dropped the phone back onto the coffee table and looked at her dog. “I know you want to go out. You’re going to have to be patient.”

Her phone buzzed with another text. “What now?” she complained.
             

It was Sylvie
. “I have Andrew downstairs with me. Can he come up?”
There was a huge wedding this afternoon and Sylvie was in early to prepare the food.

“Crap,” she said out loud. “I love him, but I don’t want to deal with anyone right now.”

Polly took a breath and sighed, then typed,
“Would he mind taking Obiwan for a walk while I shower? I hate to ask.”
Before she sent the text, she cleared it and typed,
“Sure. That’s fine,”
and sent it.

“Come on, bud. I’ll
put my shoes on and we’ll go walk. It will be good for me.”

“Polly? Are you still up here? Why aren’t you out at the barn?” Andrew Donovan called out as he ran up her back steps. Andrew was Sylvie’s nine year old son. He loved Polly’s animals as much as she did and his older brother, Jason, spent every possible moment in the barn with the four Percheron horses she had rescued earlier in the year.

“It was a rough night, Andrew. I just woke up.”

“Mom was worried about you,” he said, coming into the living room. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep.”

“Do you want me to take Obiwan out? I still have my coat on.”

The tears that had been building in her eyes flowed again. “Thank you, Andrew, that would be wonderful.” She hugged him close and held on while she cried, then let go when she realized the poor little boy had no idea what was happening.

“Sorry about that,” she chuckled. “Really sorry. Yes, thank you. The leash is downstairs.”

Andrew stopped for a moment, looked at her and then called Obiwan, who followed him through the bedroom and down the steps. Polly heard the back door close and she sat on the couch. She was going to need another nap and a long shower if there was to be any hope of getting through this day. At least a shower.

“Polly?” Sylvie’s voice came up from below. “Can I come up?”

“Tattletale,” Polly muttered to herself, then said out loud. “Sure. Come on up.”

She waited while Sylvie made her way up the stairs, through the bedroom and into the living room.

“Andrew told me you look awful and cried all over him.” Sylvie sat down beside Polly, reached over and took her hand.

“You won’t believe it. Thomas Zeller died in my doorway last night. Someone killed him.” Saying it out loud made it seem less horrific, but Sylvie’s face registered the shock Polly had been feeling since the night before.

“He what? Here? How? Polly! No wonder you’re a wreck.”

“I called Aaron in the middle of the night. Thomas was stabbed in his room. Somehow he made it across the hall and then died right in front of me. Sylvie, how does this keep happening to me?”

“You really liked him, didn’t you,” Sylvie said, squeezing Polly’s hand.

“I did. Who would do something like this? I don’t even know if there are still people in my hallway or what I have to clean up.”

“Let me look,” Sylvie went to the front door and opened it. After closing it, she returned to Polly’s side. “There’s some clean up to do. A deputy is sitting in a chair on the other side of the hall and the door to the room has a seal on it. I’m sorry, Polly.”

“Is there blood on the floor?”

“It looks like they tried to wipe it up, but it will need to be mopped. I’ll let Eliseo know.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Polly said. “The last time there were dead bodies here, they kicked me out. I don’t want to have to leave again.”

“They aren’t going to make you leave,” Sylvie patted her on the back. “I tell you what. You get more sleep. I’ll keep Andrew downstairs and run interference for you. How long would you need?”

“Lydia is going to be in a panic if I don’t call her,” Polly said.

“Let me take care of Lydia. You need to sleep this off.”

“Mom? Polly? Can I come up?” Andrew called from the back steps.

“Let me do this for you and text me when you’re awake,” Sylvie said. She stood up and went into the bedroom. “Andrew, let Obiwan come up. You are going to hang out in your nook this morning, okay?”

“Okay,” he said.

Obiwan came dashing in to the living room.

“You. Sleep,” Sylvie pointed at Polly. “Turn your phone off. You can deal with it in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” After Sylvie left, Polly went into the kitchen to pour out food for the animals. Looking out her front window, she saw cars filling the parking lot and a couple of Sheriff’s vehicles already there. Surely they could do without her for a while. Polly checked her phone, turned it to silent and went into the bedroom. She flopped down on the unmade bed, pulled the blankets up over her shoulders and lay there.

There weren’t many times in her life when she questioned the decision to do something as crazy as Sycamore House, but this morning she wondered what it would be like to live a simple life. To work a normal job, be married with kids, go home at night and watch television until she went to bed, then start the same day over again each morning. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be the person she was. It was emotionally exhausting.

As she nestled into her pillow, she mentally berated herself for throwing a pity party. One messy night did not equate emotional exhaustion. More sleep and a shower and things would return to normal.

One of the cats padded across the bed and curled up on the pillow at the back of Polly’s head and Obiwan jumped up. She opened her eyes again and watched as Luke tucked himself into the crook of her legs, then closed them and went to sleep.

When Polly’s eyes popped open again, she smiled. Much better. How long had she slept? It was nine thirty. Perfect.

Her phone was flashing an alert and she swiped to unlock it. Texts and emails, but no missed calls.

Text from Lydia
, “Sylvie told me you were sleeping. Call when you get a chance. Love you.”
Sylvie was awesome.

A text from Eliseo
, “Aaron said I could clean the hallway. It’s taken care of. No worries.”
Best employees and friends ever.

A text from Jeff,
“You did it again. I had no idea when I took this job. See me later.”
Brat.

A text from Henry,
“Sylvie called and told me what happened. Call me.”

And finally, one from Aaron Merritt,
“You can’t have the room for a while. No sign of Lila Fletcher yet. Call if you see her.”

That was enough. Emails and phone calls could happen after a shower and fresh clothes.

“I’m ready to grab the day,” she said to her animals after she pulled a sweater on over her head. “You all be good.”

Obiwan thumped his tail on the bed and rolled over on his back. “I know, I know,” she said. “Never enough tummy rubs.” She snuggled him for a few minutes, then slid her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and went downstairs.

Her first stop was at Andrew’s desk. Henry had cut out a nook for him under the stairway earlier in the summer. It was a perfect place for a boy to read and write his stories.

“Hey Andrew,” she said. He was sitting in his favorite place, which was under his desk with the lamp beside him.

“Hey Polly. Are you better?”

“I’m sorry I fell apart on you.”

“That’s okay. Mom told me you had a guy die in front of you. I would have cried too. Was it Mr. Zeller?”

“It was.”

“Do you know why he died?”

“Someone killed him. That’s why the police are here.”

“My friends aren’t going to believe me. They thought I was lying when I told them I was there when you found old lady Rothenfuss in the field this summer.”

“Maybe you should quit hanging out with me,” she chuckled.

“Heck no! This is awesome!”

“Not so much this time.”

“I know. When someone dies, that means someone else is sad. But, if I have to hear about people dying, it’s pretty cool that you’re there.”

Polly brushed her hand over the top of his head. “I’ll see you later. And I really am sorry that I cried on you this morning.”

“Mom says I should learn how to take care of girls when they do that because it will make them like me better. That’s more scary than finding dead bodies.”

“I suppose it is,” she chuckled as she walked into the kitchen.

“Thank you, Sylvie,” she said, catching Sylvie’s eye. The woman was perched on a stool, wrapping bacon around something green … beans or asparagus, Polly wasn’t sure.

“For what?” Sylvie asked.
             

“For making everyone leave me alone. I feel human now.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I called Henry. I didn’t want him to worry when he couldn’t reach you.”

“No, everything you did was perfect. Thank you. I have phone calls to return, but at least I got some rest.” Polly hugged her friend.

“That looks like it’s going to be awesome,” Polly said, pointing to the asparagus (
it was asparagus
) Sylvie was wrapping. “But, it seems like a lot of work.”

“It will be awesome. Hannah will be here soon to help and Rachel is coming in as well. I like having her around.”

“Me too,” Polly said. Rachel Devins was dating Billy Endicott, one of the two young men renting the apartment above Polly’s garage. “Have you seen Jeff?” she asked Sylvie.

“He was here about a half hour ago, begging for some of that chai spiced coffee.” Sylvie pointed to a pot on the main counter. “It’s there if you want some.”

“Oh I do. I really do,” Polly gushed. “I’ll be back later. Andrew can go upstairs any time now. He’s a good kid.” She poured a cup of coffee and walked through the main foyer to the offices.

“Good morning,” she called as she walked in. Jeff was in his office. He came out to stand in his doorway when he heard her voice.

“You really are a magnet, aren’t you?” he laughed.

“Don’t start with me. I feel better than I did, but I could still get all growly and mean.” Polly went into her office and sat down. “Is there anything I need to know?”

“Leo Evans and Myron Biller were in this morning worrying that we had a crazed killer stalking Sycamore House. They wondered if they were still safe here. The Sheriff can’t find Lila Fletcher and Grey Linder is probably still asleep.”

Jeff took a breath. “There’s a deputy hanging out in the hallway upstairs, just in case Miss Fletcher shows up. They’re bringing back another team to go over the middle bedroom again and I’ve made sure they have access to the key card program down in Boone. The Sheriff thinks we ought to install a video monitoring system …”