Murder Under the Tree Read online

  “Did Sheila Harris confess to my assault?”

  “We released Ms. Harris this morning.”

  “What?” we all exclaimed.

  “How could that be, Warren?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I didn’t know you knew each other,” I said.

  “Oh, we go way back. Warren worked at the library just before he enrolled in the police force. How’s your wife, Warren?”

  “She’s fine. And the kids are fine too.” He paused, then added, “Chief Kirk was out of town yesterday. Early this morning, upon learning of the arrest, he released Ms. Harris and reprimanded the two officers that brought her in.” In a quiet voice he added, looking at Elizabeth, “Kirk was steaming mad.” He continued, “Other than circumstantial evidence, we didn't have anything to hold her on.”

  “I can't believe this,” I said.

  “The evening you were attacked, she was supervising the kitchen from four until seven o'clock. Nancy Reinhardt corroborated this, saying she spoke with her about six o'clock that evening at Hawthorne Hills.”

  “Nancy Reinhardt is Sheila's aunt,” Deirdre said. “Of course she would cover for her.”

  “What about her bloodshot eyes and the bruising?” I asked.

  “She felt ill and fainted in the bathroom at the Home. Luckily the nurse was working late. Sheila stumbled into her office and the nurse examined her.”

  I swallowed hard. More like she stumbled there after she came back from strangling me. “I could buy that if it was her forehead or her cheekbones or even her chin, but under her eyes, where I pushed my assailant?”

  “What can I tell you? She had an iron-clad alibi.”

  “Shouldn't Kay have been notified that you were releasing Sheila?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Notified? Elizabeth, your friend here is lucky Ms. Harris isn't going to press charges against her or you for that matter.”

  Elizabeth folded her arms and gave a piercing stare and then said, “Me?”

  “Ms. Harris said you tore off her glasses.”

  He looked over at me. “We do have a double patrol on your block. Still need to find the person who attacked you.”

  Sheila probably didn't press charges so she could try and kill me again; couldn't do that if I was in a jail cell. How long could my luck hold out? Would three times be the charm?

  On the way to the car, I said to Elizabeth and Deirdre, “Sheila only would have needed about twenty minutes to have gotten to my home, attempt to strangle me, and get back to the retirement home with five minutes to spare.”

  “But how would she have known you would be coming home at that time?” Deirdre asked.

  “Better question,” Elizabeth said. “How could she have foreseen that you would be fixing a string of lights?”

  “I had just been at the Hawthorne Hills accusing Nancy of killing Les. Nancy could have told her of our conversation.”

  “Then Sheila came over to silence you,” Deirdre said.

  “She could have even followed you home,” Elizabeth added.

  I unlocked the car doors. We all got in. “Should we continue this at Marissa's?” Deirdre asked. “We never did get a chance to eat yesterday.”

  Elizabeth paused for a few moments and looked distracted like something was on her mind. “Let's go to my house,” Elizabeth said. “I have some homemade muffins. I want to share something with you and Deirdre.”

  “Are the homemade muffins the same kind you brought over to your stalker?” Deirdre asked smiling.

  I thought that was a little unfair after the way Robert helped us handle Nancy and Sheila.

  Elizabeth did not return the smile. “Deirdre, that's not funny.” She looked out her side window.

  I heard a noise and glanced over at her. Had she just ground her teeth? “Muffins sound great, Elizabeth,” I said.

  As I turned the corner to head back home, I looked at Deirdre in the rearview mirror. She looked back at me in the mirror and shrugged her shoulders.

  After several moments of silence, I said, “When Nancy was considering being in Phil and Mike's band, the guys might have told her they practiced Sunday nights. Nancy could have passed this information on to Sheila, who figured I would be home alone.”

  “She wouldn't have known Dinesh was sick and the guys cancelled practice last night,” Deirdre said.

  “When Sheila saw me out front working on the lights, the strangulation idea came to her.”

  “Makes perfect sense,” Deirdre said.

  “But remember, Sheila has an alibi,” I said, then repeated, “but it only would have taken twenty minutes...”

  Elizabeth didn't say anything else the rest of the way home. I dropped her off in her driveway and said we would be right over. I opened the garage door.

  “Wonder what's up with Elizabeth,” Deirdre said.

  “She was pretty quiet. Let's go over and find out.”

  * * * *

  Elizabeth was setting the table in her bright dining room when we walked in. She placed a basket of blueberry muffins on the table.

  “Please, have a seat,” Elizabeth said, her voice wavering.

  Her hands shook as she poured us coffee. “Elizabeth, what's wrong?” I asked.

  She put the teapot down and burst out sobbing. “John...Robert...John.”

  I reached for her cold hands. “Oh Elizabeth. What happened?”

  Elizabeth wiped her eyes with a tissue. “I think you both have been right. Robert may be stalking me.”

  Deirdre took a bite of her muffin. “Elizabeth, these muffins are great!”

  Elizabeth gasped. “Is that all you have to say?”

  “I know we were right about him stalking you,” Deirdre then added.

  The muffins were delicious. “Elizabeth, please go on.”

  “John came over last night to take me out for dinner. When we backed down the driveway, I noticed Robert backing down his. I turned around a few times. He followed us to the restaurant.”

  “Creepy,” I said.

  “I've been so flattered by his attention.”

  There was an awkward silence. I didn't know what to say.

  “Well...” Elizabeth looked down, “John must have noticed Robert following us also. He said either I stop encouraging Robert or he is through with us...our relationship.”

  “And...what did you say?” Deirdre asked.

  She looked up. “I told John I didn't want to lose him.” Tears ran down Elizabeth's cheeks. “What's wrong with me? Why can't I be happy with just one person.”

  Deirdre took another muffin and passed the plate to me. I returned the plate to the table. “Like you said, Robert was just flattering you. You know how you love attention.”

  “Deirdre, tell me what you really think.”

  “Of course you can be with just John,” I said picking up my muffin.

  Elizabeth looked at the muffin in my hand. “Then, these muffins...”

  I stopped just before taking a bite. “What, what about them?”

  “They were on my doorstep this morning. Robert must have left them.”

  Deirdre took the napkin from her lap and spit hers out.

  “Deirdre, they're not poisoned!” Elizabeth started laughing, wiping her tears. “I had one before we went to the police station this morning.”

  Crying, laughing. What next? I put my muffin down on my plate.

  “What can I do about Robert? I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I don't want him around anymore. He's everywhere!”

  “Get a restraining order,” Deirdre said.

  Elizabeth didn't say anything for a few moments. “No. Robert's only been nice. But I can't lose John.” Elizabeth took a sip of her tea before continuing. “John and I are flying to San Francisco this afternoon to visit my son, Dominic, just for a couple of days. We need to get away and I haven't seen my son for almost a year. He's always quite busy with the symphony.”

  “Symphony?” I asked.

  “He's a flautist with the San Francisco Symphony.
We're going to a performance tomorrow evening.”

  “How exciting!” I said.

  “He doesn't tell me much about it. Also, he's getting serious with the girl he’s been dating…and I want to meet her before... Well, I don’t want him to make the same mistake his mother has.”

  “I take it John has never met him,” I said.

  “They've talked a few times on the phone. We're both excited about going.”

  * * * *

  After I returned home, I called Chelsey and asked her if she would have time to meet today. I had some questions that she might be able to help me with. She said she could meet me in fifteen minutes when she went on break.

  I grabbed a small box with a couple of chocolate éclairs Phil had left for me this morning from Marissa's and some napkins. On the way I stopped at the Starbursts Coffee drive-up window for a mocha and latte to go. Chelsey could choose which she wanted. I was pulling into the parking lot of Hawthorne Hills, when I saw her coming out of the backdoor. She opened the passenger door and got in. I drove a few blocks down to Weigent Park and parked.

  I took out the chocolate éclairs. “Thought you might like a little something for your break.”

  “Oh, thank you. These are from Marissa's. I love Marissa's éclairs.” Chelsey chose the mocha coffee.

  I reached for an éclair. “Thanks for meeting with me. I have something I wanted to discuss with you, about what happened to me over the weekend.” I put the éclair back on my napkin and undid my scarf, showing her my neck. “I was attacked.”

  Chelsey's mouth fell open. Then she closed it and swallowed. “What happened?”

  “Someone tried to strangle me outside of my home, Sunday at dusk. I was able to fight back. The attacker took off when they heard people coming down the street.”

  “How awful! I'm so sorry! That must hurt!”

  I smiled. “Were you working on Sunday?”

  Chelsey's eyes opened wide. “Me?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “No, no of course not you. I just wanted to know if you were working, if you noticed that Sheila was at the Home the entire time Sunday late afternoon and evening?”

  “Wow, for a moment I thought... It was my weekend to work. I remember, we were a bit short Sunday evening...people out. And yes, she was there.”

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed and took a bite of my éclair.

  “You don't think...Sheila attacked you?”

  “I only saw the person for a few seconds but it was someone about her build. I had just accused her aunt, Nancy Reinhardt, of murdering Les.”

  Chelsey's eyes opened wider. “Nancy is Sheila's aunt? And you accused her of murdering Les?”

  “Yes, on both counts.”

  “When I was coming back from the restroom, Sheila was heading towards the back door.”

  “Did she see you?”

  “She did, and she held up a package of cigarettes and shrugged her shoulders. I thought she had quit smoking, but didn't give it another thought.”

  “When was the next time you saw her?”

  All was quiet for a few moments while Chelsey took another bite of her éclair. “Come to think of it, I didn't see her until almost after dinner ended about six-thirty. But she was in the building. Lola mentioned that Sheila was in the nurse's room. Lola had a splitting headache that evening and was in the clinic as well. Lola said Sheila had fallen. Maybe it was on the ice outside. She had bruises on her face.”

  “Do you remember what time you saw Sheila going out to smoke?”

  “It was after the early dinner hour started. About quarter to five.”

  “So you didn't see her for over an hour.”

  “That's right. Way over an hour.”

  Plenty of time to get to my house and back. There must be a time log the nurse fills out when someone comes into the clinic.

  Chelsey looked down at her watch. “I should get back.”

  “Thanks, Chelsey. I'm glad we were able to meet up.”

  While I drove back to the Home, Chelsey finished her coffee and éclair. I dropped her off at the backdoor, then parked in the lot.

  I climbed the stairs of the main entrance and went straight over to the nurse's room. Standing in the doorway, I could see Celine Winterberg was sitting at a small desk writing. Papers and charts were neatly piled on her desk. The clinic was aesthetically pleasant, with modern art work on the walls, tall green plants throughout the room, and bright lighting. The large room contained five empty hospital beds/exam areas with privacy screens. A tall glass cabinet filled with medications and a variety of medical equipment was off to a side next to a smaller bookcase. Soft music poured from wall speakers.

  I knocked on the door. “Excuse me, Celine.”

  Celine looked up from writing and smiled. “Hello. It's Kay, right?”

  “Yes. Do you have a few minutes?”

  She put her pen down. “Sure. Come in.”

  “Thank you.” I entered her office and closed the door, then sat down in a chair opposite her.

  She looked a little surprised, glancing at the door. “This must be important. What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if you kept a time log of the residents and staff who come to see you?”

  “Sure.”

  “I understand Sheila was here Sunday evening. I'd like to know what time she came in?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Should I tell her? “Someone attacked me outside of my home, just before evening.” I undid my scarf. “I think it may have been Sheila.”

  She let out a little gasp. “Sheila? Why would you think that?”

  “It's rather complicated.” I glanced down at my watch. “Please, I just need a time.”

  Her phone rang. “I'll be right there, Dr. Lee.” She looked up and smiled. “Kay, please excuse me, just for a few minutes. I need to sign some papers.”

  After she left, I went over to the log and looked at Sunday's entries. I glanced at the open door when I saw someone walk by out of the corner of my eye. Thank goodness it was only Lola and not Celine coming back already. Sheila signed in at five twenty-five. I was attacked around five o'clock. Chelsey saw her at four forty-five going out to have a cigarette and didn't see her return. Forty minutes. Her iron-clad alibi had a few holes. I sat back down.

  A minute later, Celine came back into the room leaving the door open. “Sorry about that. I thought about your request. Anyone who comes in to the clinic can see the log. Go ahead and look.”

  I walked back over to the log and paged back to Sunday. “Thanks.”

  Celine continued talking while I looked at the log. I noticed Lola's name on the next page. She was logged in at five thirty-five. “There's no love between Sheila and myself. I wouldn't say she was exactly welcoming when I started.”

  Why wasn't I surprised about that? “What was her condition when Sheila saw you.”

  “Said she fainted and fell in the restroom. Hit her face against the sink.” Celine looked in the direction of the door. I turned around when I heard a knock. Lola stood in the entrance. Her eyes looked between Celine and me looking through the log.

  “Excuse me, Celine. Sheila sent me over to find out if you are still planning on giving the in-service at three o'clock to the kitchen staff.

  “Yes. Tell her that time will work.”

  Lola left the room.

  “What about Sheila's eyes?”

  “She had some subconjunctival hemorrhages and she complained about pain. Nothing that wouldn't take time to heal. Nancy Reinhardt came in around six o'clock to see Sheila on her way out.”

  I stood up and started for the door. I heard footsteps going down the hall. “Thank you for your time, Celine.”

  Celine stood up as well. “Kay, I understand you're my brother's neighbor.”

  “Yes.”

  “He likes the neighborhood. And you're friends with Elizabeth?”

  Where was she going with this. “Yes.”

  “He's obsessed wi
th her.”

  My mouth fell open while my heart raced. Why is she telling me this? It wouldn't hurt to tell a lie, to get Robert off Elizabeth. “Elizabeth's engaged.”

  “John?”

  This was a weird conversation. “Yes.”

  “Robert likes John very much. He'll be pleased to hear that.”

  “Why? I thought he liked Elizabeth.” Too much. I shouldn't have said that.

  “Of course he does. She's why he moved to Sudbury Falls.”

  Okay, now this conversation was getting weirder. “Really?”

  “Well sure. Being her father. You know, don't you, that Elizabeth is Robert's daughter.”

  Her father? But Elizabeth had grown up in foster homes! Elizabeth didn't know who Robert was. Why was Celine telling me this? Was she tired of all the secrecy and thought it was about time Elizabeth knew? Or did she think Elizabeth already knew? Why hadn't Robert told Elizabeth?

  I looked down at my watch. “I'm sorry. I'm late for an appointment. Thank you for letting me look at the log.”

  I made a hasty retreat, my mind spinning.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wednesday, January 7

  It was another long night of tossing and turning. I had little sleep, running through what I had just learned about Robert being Elizabeth's father. Would Elizabeth be angry when she found out? Thrilled? Maybe eventually. Why didn't Robert just come out and tell her, instead of being so creepy about everything?

  Phil's alarm rang. He turned it off, then reached over and pulled me towards him. I laid in his arms and drifted off to sleep. I woke to Phil kissing me good-bye.

  “So early?”

  “It's almost eight o'clock. I brought you coffee and the newspaper. They're on your bedside table.”

  “Thanks, Phil. You're sweet.”

  I closed my eyes for a few seconds, until the phone rang. “Hello.” Sitting up in bed, I reached for the coffee, and took a sip. It was cold. I looked at the time. Nine o'clock.

  “Mrs. Driscoll...Kay, this is Chelsey. I remembered something about you know who at the Christmas tea.”

  “Sheila?”

  “Right. I never mentioned it before because it had to do with Viktor, not Les. Any chance you're coming here today?”