Poisoned (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) (21 page)

“How much longer are you going to be?” demanded May of the small man currently kneeling on the floor with his head in the oven.

“Just about done, ma’am. Just have to replace this one...there! Finished.” He stood up slowly and wiped his fingers on an already-dirty rag sticking in his belt.

“Fine. Let me get my checkbook.” May’s heels click-clicked down the hall once more.

I leaned against the counter and smiled awkwardly at the repairman who gathered up his tools.

May returned momentarily, checkbook in hand. “Help yourself to a drink, Miss Harris, if you’d like. This will only take a moment.”

A large pitcher of what appeared to be orange juice sat on the counter, or I could get some water from the tap. I didn’t think the offer included my rummaging through the refrigerator or cupboards for something else. I turned to reach for a glass on a small tray on the counter and saw something that made my heart race—a blender. Bingo! The woman had a blender. I felt ecstatic. But then I remembered that I also had a blender, as did just about everyone I knew. The only difference being that all the other residents of Indian Cove possessing the appliance did not have a relative who had a bottle of liquor laced with the mush of a jequirity bean.

Down the hallway, the old woman argued with the repairman over the price of a screw or some damned thing while the poor man looked as if he would like to stick
her
head in the oven—preferably with the gas on and pilot light out. I stood there trying to fathom a way in which I could shove the blender under my sweater and sneak out of the house undetected, when May followed the man to the front door.

Not believing my luck, I pulled the blender to the edge of the counter and took the container off the base. I quickly unscrewed the bottom managing to dislodge the lid and almost dropping it before catching the damned thing. I pulled the blade out from the bottom of the container and looked at it closely, removing the rubber band or washer or whatever it was called. The machine was clean, but the band felt moist as if it had been used or cleaned recently. Deep in a crevice of one of the blades I spied a minute piece of something squishy. jequirity bean mush! Or a multitude of other substances, I thought dejectedly. How was I going to find out? I started to search for a baggie to put the mush in but then the front door slammed and a few seconds later the click-click of the heels came back down the hall. Screwing the pieces together as quickly as I could, I had it back in place on the counter just as May came in to the kitchen.

“I was just admiring your blender,” I said out of breadth. “I’m in need of a new one myself. This seems like a very nice model. Do you use it often?”

May gave me a peculiar look and said, “No. Not often. Why don’t we go into the living room?” After taking seats across from each other, May added, “My son Larry also mentioned a visit. You’re certainly very busy for a Sunday.”

“It’s important I get to the bottom of this. You should be anxious for this whole thing to be over and the guilty party to be put behind bars.”

“I was under the impression that our police force had everything under control.”

“Well, yes, certainly, but they can’t be everywhere at once,” I said with a wave of my hand and a smile. Why I smiled, I had no idea because John Van der Burg would surely kill me as soon as he found out how I spent my Sunday morning.

Then to my utter astonishment, May agreed with me.

“I do agree it’s important to get to the bottom of this. It’s a terrible thing. Kenneth and Lillian are just heartbroken.”

“Mrs. Brissart is as well.”

“And well she should be!” May spat out. “She got her own grandson killed.”

My anger boiled and I had only been in the house a few minutes. Quickly regaining control, I looked straight into May’s face. “How’s that, Mrs. Estenfelder?”

“It’s common knowledge, young lady, the poison was meant for Roberta.”

“So you’re saying it would have been better if she had died?”

May raised a perfectly arched eyebrow—one that consisted more of waxy crayon than hair. “Now don’t go putting words into my mouth. I wish my sister no ill will...”

“You just want her to sell the land?”

May paused for a moment and put her hand to her heart. “Well, yes. But I’m not alone in that desire.”

I nodded several times. “No. No you are not. But you must see with so many people wanting Mrs. Brissart to sell, the logical reasoning would indicate the murderer must be a member of the family.”

“I see no such thing, Miss Harris. J.T. is not a member of our family. And neither is Kendra.”

“Why would Kendra want to kill Mrs. Brissart?.”

May clearly became flustered. “Maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps it was dear Bradley they wanted dead, though I’m sure the police tend to think otherwise.”

No one seemed to know that John had been looking at Mrs. Brissart as a suspect and I was not about to divulge this bit of news.

“And as I’ve said before, any one at all could have walked into that house. Roberta, with her penchant for leaving things unlocked…” May shook her head in disgust, not bothering to finish her sentence. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Miss Harris, but do you suspect me of killing Bradley?”

In the last few days I had asked a lot of people a lot of questions and somehow no one had managed to put me on the spot as May just had. It was a good question. Did I think she killed Bradley?

“Well, to be quite truthful, Mrs. Estenfelder, I don’t know who the killer is.” I wasn’t trying to be diplomatic here; I truly had no idea. “I guess that’s the reason I’ve been asking questions.”

“Bothering everyone, from what I gather, is more like it. You even managed to question my granddaughter. You can’t honestly suspect her, can you? Doesn’t have the brain God gave a grape, that one.”

“I think you’re mistaken about Trish.” I know I had been.

“You mean to say she killed Bradley?” May asked with the hand firmly over her chest again.

“No. No. Not at all,” I said quickly hoping to forestall a fainting spell. “I just don’t agree with your perception of Trish. I think you underestimate her. I may be able to find her something, a job, through my agency.”

May relaxed a bit. “Oh. Well that would be nice. The girl spends entirely too much time alone in that house.”

“Mrs. Estenfelder I’d like to get back to my questions.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would, and I just wonder if that detective of yours knows what you’re doing.”

I figured the minute I left the house, May would be calling the police and blabbing. Maybe I should see if I could spend the night with Sam so John couldn’t find me. But as long as I was here and she wasn’t reaching for the phone—yet, I had to ask my questions. After today, I probably wouldn’t have another chance.

“Did you come directly home on Monday evening?”

“Yes I did. And don’t bother to ask if I can prove it because I live alone. June and J.T. dropped me off. But I assure you, I did not sneak back to Roberta’s with a vial of poison.”

I raised my eyebrows, both of them as I didn’t possess the talent of raising just one in a menacing, accusatory way. I probably looked more surprised.

“And no, I didn’t have one with me to begin with either.”

“Do you know about the feud between your two sisters over Charles?”

“How do you know about that?” May asked, her anger rising dangerously high.

“It came out during my questionings.”

May stood up and glared down at me. “Well, I demand to know who told you. There are some things that are private, young lady, and have nothing whatsoever to do with Bradley’s death.”

“How do you know that?”

“How dare you! Are you accusing June of killing Bradley?”

“No. I just wonder if she tried to kill Roberta,” I said evenly.

“This all happened a long time ago. How dare you bring my sister’s hurt out in the open?”

“Well, it might have happened a long time ago, but with Charles just dying and June finding out he still cared for her all these years, well, it could’ve sparked June to take revenge.”

May put one hand firmly on her hip and the other pointing to the door. “Get out! And I’m calling that detective of yours right now!” How dare you hurt my family like this. Get out, I said.”

I left the house quicker than I thought myself capable of, unfortunately with no blender safely tucked in my purse. As I reached the corner I could see in my rearview mirror Detective Maroni pulling into May’s driveway, having come from the other direction. The jig was up, as they say. At least my jig was up. May would blab to him and he would be on his cell phone telling John to be on the lookout for me. An APB or BOLO was probably next.

I glanced at the clock on my dash and figured I had just about enough time to get to New Haven before the police picked me up. A half hour later, I found a parking meter about nine blocks from my destination, and pumped in enough change to make a serious dent in the national debt before remembering on Sunday I didn’t have to pay. Damn! What were the chances of the administrative offices of Yale being open? As I neared the office, a young man came out and locked the door.

“I wonder if you could help me?”

“We’re not open,” he said turning toward me.

“I’m looking for Kendra Merchant. I understand she works in this office.”

“Did.”

“Excuse me?”

“She did work here. She quit.”

“She quit? When?” I asked.

“A couple of days ago. Didn’t give any notice. But then no one would expect her to, not with what happened and all.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“Not to me. You can come back tomorrow and speak with her supervisor.”

I stood there thinking for a moment. Knowing my own rules on giving out information, I figured it wouldn’t do much good to come back tomorrow so I thanked the young man and left.

I had just enough time to stop at my office to read through the proposal one more time before going home to cook a nice dinner that I promised John. John, who was probably at this very moment getting a warrant for my arrest.

I accomplished more in the next forty-five minutes than I had done since the murder. I started to close down my computer when I heard the front door open.

“Alex? Oh, I’m sorry. I should have called. I know it’s Sunday. I really didn’t expect anyone to be here, but I didn’t know where else to go. I’ve just been driving around. I can come back tomorrow morning.” Kendra turned and stepped down onto the porch.

“Kendra, it’s okay. I have to meet a friend for dinner, but I have a few minutes. Come in.” I held the door open and Kendra stepped back into the reception area. “This is really a coincidence. I stopped by the admin offices earlier to see you? I forgot it was Sunday.”

“I quit.”

“Yes. I know. A young man told me. Why don’t you come back into my office and we can talk there.”

Kendra unzipped her short jacket and followed me into the back of Always Prepared.

“Have a seat. Can I get anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” Kendra put her head down and when she looked up again tears slowly found their way down her round face and onto the top of her brown suede jacket. “Well, obviously I am not fine. I don’t think I ever will be again. I’m sorry, do you have a tissue?”

“Of course.” I pulled a box from my bottom drawer and handed it to her. “Kendra, I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. I’ve heard it all. My parents keep telling me I’m young and I’ll find someone again and I know they mean well, I know that, but I loved Bradley with all my heart. They didn’t want me to go to his funeral yesterday, but I had to.” Bradley’s parents had insisted on a very small service with only immediate family members. Considering how popular he had been and how prominent the family was in the community, it would have been a circus any other way. “We were so well suited to each other. Does that sound odd?”

“Not at all. I feel the exact same way about someone in my life.”

“Oh, yes. Detective Van der Burg.” Kendra dabbed at her eyes with a soaked tissue and reached for another. “So I quit my job,” she began again, “and tomorrow afternoon I’m going up to New Hampshire to stay with my dad’s sister. She has a daughter my age and we’ve always gotten along. Which brings me to the reason why I stopped by. I don’t know when, or even if, I’ll be coming back to Indian Cove. But I wanted to know if I might come and talk to you about work if I do decide to return. I don’t want to burn all my bridges behind me.”

“Of course you can come here. I’d be more than happy to help.” I suspected this wasn’t the real motive for Kendra stopping by; she probably just needed an outsider to talk to.

Kendra held the soggy tissue in her hands and didn’t look up for quite a while. Finally she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and said, “Why did he have to die like that? We had plans! We were going to be getting married probably next summer. It’s not fair!” She looked at me through her huge, brown, red-rimmed eyes. “I feel...I didn’t get to say good-bye. I know it sounds stupid, but I just feel like I’ve been cheated. I lost my best friend. We had everything in common and we told each other everything. We had so many plans. I was going to get a job teaching as soon as I finished my credential. I wanted to use my acting skills with children in some way. Maybe a children’s theater company. Bradley and I talked about it a lot. We had so many plans; we wanted to have a family…” Her voice was just a whisper now. She got up and walked over to the window staring out into the twilight. A few minutes passed before she spoke again.

“I wonder who’s going to continue with the family history now? It meant so much to Bradley. I don’t think Roberta’s heart will be into continuing it,” she said still looking at the darkening sky. “He really wasn’t too far into it, but I think he found out some interesting things.”

“Like what?” I asked as my interest piqued.

Kendra came back and sat down. “You know, it’s the first time I thought of this. About a week before Bradley was killed, we were talking on the phone and he said he found out something very interesting. He wanted to do a bit more research and then he wanted to tell Roberta and me. He said it was fascinating. He seemed really happy about it. I think he was even going to break down and tell me right then and there, he was pretty hyped up, but then someone knocked on his door and he hung up. I wonder if he ever told Roberta about it? Though I would think she would have told me but with all that’s happened, maybe she just forgot.” Kendra shook her head and a strand of her golden blonde hair attached itself to her tear-stained face. She pushed it away with her long fingers. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Alex. I just wanted to make sure if I do come back, I’ll be able to find something to hold me over while I pursue something in teaching or acting.”