Page 13 of Murder by Christmas


  Chapter 15

  Edna pulled up next to the Perrys’ station wagon. She’d barely turned off the engine when she felt suddenly drowsy. She wondered if it might be the over-heated car after she’d been standing out in the freezing cold, or perhaps it was simply her lack of sleep the night before. Whatever the reason, she sat for a moment and closed her eyes.

  Apparently oblivious of Edna’s weariness, Gran unbuckled her seat belt and opened the passenger-side door. “I bought a carrier and a litter box last week,” she said over her shoulder. “Told Carol they were a present for Faye and left them in the car.” Her voice made Edna shrug off the fatigue as the older woman slid to the ground and headed around to the rear of the Kia.

  When Edna opened her eyes, she was looking directly into a rear window of the clinic where, at that moment, the ghost of a figure seemed to move behind gauzy curtains. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, wondering if what she saw had been a trick of her woozy mind, so ethereal had been the image. It looked as though someone had just ducked below the sill. She stared, waiting to see if the apparition would reappear when Gran’s figure moved into her line of sight and broke the trance.

  With a shake of her head, Edna got out of the car. As she did so, she put her hand on the roof of the Perrys’ old Volvo to steady herself and glanced down through the passenger-side window where an object on the floor caught her eye. Bending for a closer look, she saw a crushed clump of mistletoe with a bit of red ribbon wrapped around the stem and entangled in the leaves. It looked very much like the “kissing ball” from Laurel’s front hall. The last Edna had seen of the decoration was when Laurel was playfully pulling Jake into her house after he and Norm arrived to take Santa photos. She thought of the sprig that Charlie told her had been stuffed into Laurel’s teapot and a shiver ran down her spine.

  Frowning as she tried to recall the precise image of the ornament Mary had attached to the light fixture, Edna shuffled over the slippery pavement toward the front of the car. She placed her hand on the Volvo’s hood to steady herself while she stepped up onto the sidewalk. When she felt warmth through her glove, she also became aware of the soft ticking sound of an engine cooling.

  “Something the matter?” Gran was standing on the walk that led to the front door, holding a small plastic pet carrier. “Are you okay, Edna? You look a little pale.”

  Edna shook her head, uncertain how to answer. Was she so tired she was hallucinating? The image in the window might have been a trick of the light. As for the mistletoe, there were hundreds of such decorations around at this time of year. The warm station wagon meant that at least one of the Perrys was at the clinic. Roselyn, most likely. That would explain the disappearing image in the window. She was so painfully shy, she would not have wanted to be seen. Edna was certain the veterinarian’s wife would have a good explanation for the mistletoe in the Volvo, too, if Edna could get the woman to talk to her.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Gran. I’m okay. Just a touch of fatigue. I had a fitful night, and I think the lack of sleep is catching up with me.”

  Gran’s expression brightened at once. “Then we’ll go straight home from here. Charlie was right. We both could use a cup of tea and a rest.”

  Inside, they were greeted by a young woman in a white lab coat who was sitting behind the reception desk. “Hey, Miz Davies,” Jake’s intern called. Turning to study the computer screen at her elbow, she wrinkled her brow. “Do we have Benjamin scheduled for today?”

  “Hello, Juliana. No, his next visit’s not ‘til next month.” Edna gently drew Gran forward to stand at the waist-high counter beside her. “This is Mrs. Cravendorf. She’s adopted a kitten from the CATS shelter. We’re here to pick her up.”

  “Oh, yes, the calico. She’s a sweet little munchkin.” Juliana rose, grinning. “Roselyn thought you’d be by, so I have the paperwork all ready for you.” She reached for a folder and laid it open in front of Gran. “There’s information in here for you on the shots she’s had and a brochure on care and feeding. If you’ll just sign this top form, I’ll go get her.”

  “I brought a carrier.” Gran lifted the small crate and handed it across the counter before looking down to examine her adoption materials.

  As Juliana accepted the carrier, Edna said, “Is Roselyn available? I’d like to speak with her.”

  The young woman briefly glanced over her shoulder, almost as if she expected to see someone standing behind her, but then shook her head. “I’m the only one here, right now.”

  “Oh?” Edna was taken aback. “The Volvo’s out front and the engine’s still warm. I assumed Roselyn was here.” She didn’t mention the vision in the window, since she was still uncertain as to what it had been.

  Juliana nodded, watching Gran leaf through the pages in the folder. “They left in the van about five or ten minutes ago. Just before you got here.” She lifted the small carrier, hugging it against her chest, and finally looked at Edna. “I don’t expect them back today. If it’s important, I can leave a message and have Roselyn call you.”

  Had Juliana herself been the figure in the window, Edna wondered, not wanting to question the young woman’s word. But the intern had been sitting at the desk when she and Gran had come through the front door. As they’d entered, Juliana had been working at the computer. She hadn’t recently rushed from the back room to sit at the desk. Of that, Edna was quite certain.

  “I wanted to ask if either Roselyn or Doctor Jake has heard from Mary Osbourne today,” Edna said, wishing she could go into the back to make certain nobody else was in the building. The image behind gauzy curtains stuck in her mind.

  “Miz Osbourne?” Juliana frowned and paused for a second or two before shaking her head. “I don’t think so. She hasn’t phoned the clinic, anyway. She might have called their mobiles, but I wouldn’t know about that.”

  Gran chose that moment to hold up a form. “Is this all you need from me?”

  “I have to collect the adoption fee, and there’s a charge for shots.” Refocusing her attention on Gran, Juliana seemed relieved at the interruption. “The invoice is in the folder with the other papers. Why don’t you look it over while I get your kitten,” she said, turning to hurry away.

  Once the door had closed behind the young woman, Gran put a hand on Edna’s forearm. “I’m sorry Roselyn isn’t in. It seems to be a wasted trip for you, but I do appreciate your driving me over here to pick up Callie. I’m so excited to get her home. I even lined the carrier and her kitty bed with some old tee-shirts of Carol’s. I thought it would help the kitten get used to her new owner.”

  Edna tried to shake off the feeling that Juliana might be covering for her employer. I’m being paranoid, she thought. Mary’s disappearance has me spooked. She forced herself to concentrate on what Gran was saying.

  “Carol will be flying in from Chicago tomorrow afternoon. I can’t wait to give her this early Christmas present.”

  Looking out toward the parking lot, Edna saw the day had darkened. Although it hadn’t yet begun to snow again, she thought it probably would before they reached home. I hope flights won’t be cancelled, she thought, concerned about her own children arriving from Colorado in two days’ time, but she wouldn’t put a damper on Gran’s excitement. “I think the tee-shirts are a wonderful idea. What made you think of it?”

  “Something I read. If your cat runs away, you should put a shirt or a towel or something from the laundry basket outside your house. The scent helps them find their way home.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that,” Edna nodded in agreement.

  “I thought surrounding her with Carol’s scent would help Callie adjust more quickly.”

  “Very clever,” Edna said and turned as Juliana came back into the room with Gran’s carrier.

  “All set. I bet this little one will be glad to get to her permanent home. She’s already snuggled into the shirt you put in here.”

  Gran paid the charges as Edna took the carrier and headed out to the ca
r. She paused to glance into the Volvo and examined the mistletoe once more as she tried to think back to yesterday morning. Was it the mistletoe from Laurel’s house? How had it gotten into the Perrys’ car? Had Roselyn grabbed it? She remembered Jake had been driving the van yesterday with Norm dressed as Santa Claus, so Roselyn must have been using the station wagon. Could she have ripped the mistletoe from the hall light fixture? She was tall enough. It had been hanging within reach of an average-sized adult. Laurel had told Edna and Mary to hurry and finish when she’d seen the van in the driveway. Maybe in the rush, Mary hadn’t secured the mistletoe well enough. Could it have fallen and Roselyn picked it up? If she had, why wouldn’t she have left it in the house?

  All this speculation was causing Edna’s head to pound. Charlie was the one looking into Laurel’s death. She should tell him about the mistletoe and concentrate on finding Mary.

  After placing the carrier on the back seat of the Kia, she studied the clinic’s rear window before climbing in behind the wheel. Gran came out and buckled herself into the passenger’s seat, looking as if she had renewed energy, but Edna’s fatigue was starting to reassert itself.

  “I know we talked about going over to the hospital, but I think you and Charlie are right. I need to get home and put my feet up. I don’t think it’s really necessary to visit Mary’s supervisor in person. I’ll phone the hospital later this evening.”

  This time, when they reached the neighborhood and approached Gran’s house, Edna was on the alert for a big, dark vehicle. The road ahead was empty, but as she neared Gran’s property, she glanced into the rear view mirror. There it was, less than two car lengths from her bumper. How long had the driver been following her? When she tried to make out his features, once again, fluid sheeted the windshield and the wipers flicked back and forth at full speed. It was impossible for Edna to see who was behind the wheel before she swerved up onto Gran’s driveway.

  Feeling uneasy about the strange car but not wanting to alarm her companion, Edna silently unloaded the pet supplies from the rear of the Kia. Following Gran as she trudged carefully over the deck with the pet carrier, Edna decided to phone Charlie as soon as she got home.

  Gran must have bought out the entire store, Edna thought with some amusement as, a short time later, she assembled a small water fountain and placed it on a rubber mat beside the stainless steel food bowl.

  Gran hustled about, setting up a litter box in the small powder room off the kitchen, after which she brought the carrier in and opened the little trap door. “I think it’ll be best to let Callie come out when she’s ready to explore her new surroundings,” she explained as she sat at the kitchen table where she had a direct view of the crate.

  Knowing the older woman would be mentally and physically occupied for the evening, Edna declined an invitation to stay for supper, suspecting Gran was only being polite. “I’ve got to get home to feed my own cat,” Edna said as a graceful way to slip out.

  The two women arranged that Edna would drive the Kia home and return early the next morning to pick up Gran again. She was working the breakfast shift and had promised Priscilla to arrive by seven o’clock.

  When Edna finally walked into the mudroom of her own house, she was truly and thoroughly exhausted. Charlie had apparently gotten hold of the Benton brothers because the brick walk had been shoveled, as had the front stoop. Best of all, the snowpack around her car was gone. Bless the man, she thought, and hoped again that Starling would hold onto the detective.

  Sinking onto the parson’s bench beside the back door, she greeted Benjamin, talking nonsense to him as she removed her boots, hat and coat. Moving almost mechanically, she fed him, checked his water and shuffled through the kitchen to the living room. As she passed her office door, she noticed the message light blinking on her answering machine. It reminded her that she had planned to call Charlie, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why at the moment. Her spirits surged when she thought Mary might have left a message, so she hurried to the machine and pressed the button to listen.

  “Hello, Mother. It’s me. Diane.” There was a slight pause as if her daughter expected Edna to pick up. “Father says you’re really busy getting everything ready for Grant’s visit, so maybe you have the vacuum on and can’t hear the phone ring. Anyway, I just called to say Father didn’t have to stay in the hospital. Roger and Buddy are helping him to his room and I’m about to make dinner. Call when you can.”

  “Later,” Edna muttered. Once she’d been reassured that Albert was well cared for and out of danger, her energy flagged again. No word from Mary. Dragging her feet, Edna entering the living room. The air was cool, but she had no strength to build a fire. Instead, she pulled an afghan from the back of the sofa, sank into her favorite wingback chair, raised the recliner’s footrest and spread the blanket over herself.

  I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes, she thought, nestling into the seat.

  She was awakened by the grandfather clock chiming the midnight hour. Benjamin was curled up in her lap, and her entire body felt stiff. It seemed to take an agonizingly long time to get upstairs, change into a warm, flannel nightdress and crawl into bed. Whether due to the cold sheets or the long nap she’d had, she drifted in and out of a half-sleep for the next few hours, remembering at one point, through a dim haze, that it was the strange car she needed to call Charlie about, and she should have phoned Albert. She must have fallen deeper into sleep sometime in the wee hours because when the bedside phone rang, she jerked awake, groggy and disoriented.

  Chapter 16

  “Did I wake you?” Gran sounded more inquisitive than concerned.

  Edna rolled over to squint at the bedside clock and nearly groaned aloud when the digital minute flipped at that moment to 6:17.

  “I’m sorry, dear, but even if I could drive in this snow, you’ve got my car. I baked some cinnamon rolls for Priscilla to sample, and I’d like to get to the diner before the breakfast crowd. The Kitchen opens at seven.”

  Crowd, thought Edna, looking out the window at the gently falling snow. I doubt there’ll be a crowd. Aloud she said, “Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be at your door.”

  Wanting to stay beneath her warm quilt on this cold winter morning, Edna nonetheless threw back the covers and hurried to the bathroom for a quick, hot shower. Slipping into green wool slacks, yellow turtleneck jersey and a sweater of variegated yarn in rich autumn colors, she nearly ran down the stairs to be greeted by Benjamin. Stopping only to put a fresh scoop of cat chow into his bowl and refresh his water dish, she bundled up in her loden coat and knitted beret. Finally, pulling on calf-high, fur-lined boots and donning mittens, she was ready to brave the morning.

  Gran was watching for her from the kitchen window and, as Edna pulled up, walked gingerly across the fresh two inches of snow on the deck. She was carrying a straw basket covered with a red-checkered cloth. When she was safely belted into the passenger’s seat of the Kia, she tipped back a corner of the napkin and instantly filled the car with the mouth-watering scent of hot cinnamon sugar.

  “Did you and Callie have a good evening,” Edna said in greeting.

  Gran trilled her infectious laugh. “She crept out only minutes after you left. I followed her all over the house while she explored. She’s going to be a wonderful house cat.”

  Edna drove a little faster than she ordinarily would, considering the falling snow and slick roads, but her head was crying out for coffee and her stomach for breakfast, especially since she’d had no dinner. She parked in front of the cafe where she saw the front walk had been recently shoveled, and mentally noted that there was no lineup of customers waiting to enter. It was just three minutes to seven by the dashboard clock.

  The Christmas bells on the door jangled pleasantly when she and Gran stepped into the warmth of the small eatery. Priscilla was sitting on one of the bar stools, leaning back against the counter, holding a cup of coffee in her hands. Vinnie was at the same back table where Edna ha
d sat with him before, a bowl of cereal and a thick porcelain coffee mug in front of him. At the sight of Gran and her basket, Priscilla put down her mug and hurried over.

  “You’re a doll, as usual, Gran. I’ve been waiting to try these goodies. Mom says your rolls are the best.” She took the basket and kissed the old woman’s soft, wrinkled cheek. “Good morning, Edna,” she said, turning back toward the counter. Over her shoulder, she called, “How about some coffee and one of these buns?”

  “Lovely,” Edna called back enthusiastically as she removed her coat and helped Gran off with hers.

  “I could use another cup,” Gran said, reminding Edna that the woman had probably been up for a while. Where did she get her energy?

  Vinnie had been watching while the women greeted each other. When the initial bustle was over, he raised his mug in greeting. “Ladies.”

  “Hi, Vinnie,” Gran said, walking up to his table. “Where’s your uncle?”

  “I told him I’d pick him up around eight o’clock. I wanted to get the front walk shoveled first.”

  “Isn’t he driving over?”

  Vinnie shook his head. “I took his keys.” He grimaced, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t want him driving that old rattletrap around with those bald tires. He’ll end up in a snow bank and I’ll have to go dig him out. Don’t tell him, but I’m giving him a tricycle for Christmas. He practically broke his neck learning to ride a two-wheeler a few weeks ago. He liked it, though, so I’m hoping he’ll take to the trike. Maybe he won’t kill whatever he hits.”

  Gran laughed and, shaking her head in amusement, went to join Priscilla behind the counter where she was busy with a pair of tongs, taking rolls out of the basket and putting them on small plates.