Smoked (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) (2 page)

“I talked briefly with their daughter this morning. She showed up at their house as I was leaving. Said her father’s been in Boston at a butcher convention for the last several days. He’s on his way home.”

“Butcher convention?” I winced. It sounded gruesome but then being a butcher in the first place sounded gruesome. What a hypocrite I was. I didn’t mind eating the stuff, but I really didn’t want to know the intricate details of how the meat made it to my plate.

After consuming more than I normally did for my mid-day meal, John and I made our way out of the restaurant and back to the mall. I had just persuaded him to walk over to the craft store with me when his cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He took it out and read a text.

“I’m sorry, Alex, but I have to get back to the station.”

“Has something happened?” I asked, noting the concerned expression overtaking his face.

“I’m not sure. It’s the Kravec case. I’ve got to go.” He turned and headed toward the exit.

“Wait a minute, John. What do you mean? What’s happened?”

My husband stopped and turned to face me. He put his hands on my arms and pulled me close to him. “Some preliminary tests have come back and they’ve brought Mr. Kravec in. He just got back from Boston and I have to interview him.” John gave me a quick peck on the cheek and headed off.

“What kind of tests? Why do you have to interview him?” I called to John’s retreating back, but he never turned around.

Maybe by the time he came home tonight he would have some answers and I would know exactly how Mrs. Kravec had died.

At five o’clock I turned into my driveway. I was looking forward to a quiet evening of catching up on stuff I had DVR’d and some leftover meatloaf. If I felt really ambitious, I might even wrap some of the things I picked up for John’s mother at the craft store. John was supposed to be joining my father and a group of volunteers from my parents’ church to help rebuild a house that had been destroyed by a fire. I hadn’t heard from him since he ran out at lunch and I had no idea if he was still at the station or if he made it to the rebuild site. I could call my mom but then she would ask me a lot of questions about Mrs. Kravec and right now I had no answers.

As I stood at my kitchen counter, waiting for my plate of leftovers to warm in the microwave, I caught site of the area where I had gone to help Mrs. Kravec just the night before. From where I stood I could see what looked like crime scene tape strung along the parameter of the area. John had mentioned preliminary tests, but what could they find in a pile of burnt leaves that would make the police designate the area as a crime scene? I really wanted to call John but he was either busy with the case or helping my dad and the other volunteers.

I took the plate from the microwave, set it aside and went over to the back door where I kept a pair of New Balance walking shoes. I kicked off my black heels, exchanging them for the sneakers, as I called them. Why is it that these kinds of shoes have laces about four feet long? What did the makers expect us to do with all that lace? I tied the shoes and then knotted them several more times in an attempt to shorten the laces enough to allow walking without tripping, and then headed out.

I walked up our street and passed the Kravec house. Nothing looked out of place from the front. I continued walking to the end of the street and turned right. It was already dark, but the street lights were plentiful, plus it looked like most people were home getting ready for dinner. I walked around the entire block just to get some exercise and when I got back to my house I crossed our front lawn into the back and walked up the slope until I was in the Kravecs’ backyard, standing just outside the yellow tape.

Someone had taken all the burned leaves and there was just flat blackened earth where the fire had been. The grass looked trampled all the way up to the woods, which backed up against our yards. If Mrs. Kravec had died from an allergic reaction to the burning leaves, it seemed odd it was marked as a crime scene, but of course they needed to find out exactly what happened and I didn’t think the police had tape that said, “just checking the facts.” I still wanted to know how Mrs. Kravec dying from an allergic reaction might translate into a crime and I hoped John would share the final outcome with me.

Poor Mrs. Kravec. What did I really know about her? I hadn’t lived in this house very long but I had stopped to talk with her several times while out for walks during the summer. I knew she had been a professor at one point but had changed careers at the end of the school year. She had mentioned some sort of blog and I now felt ashamed I had never checked it out. Most of our conversations were easy banter about our lawns and various plants or what was going on in the neighborhood, which wasn’t much. And now she was gone and I would never get a chance to know her. And who would attend to the beautiful flowering bushes and plants scattered across their property? Her husband? I didn’t see him very often, though I had stopped by his shop a couple of times. His cuts of beef were superb but costly and John and I only splurged a few times.

The air had taken on a sudden chill and I had left the house without a jacket. Plus my stomach was rumbling despite the fact it had been well fed at noon. My plate of leftovers was probably cold by now. With one last look at the remnants of the fire pit, I turned toward my house. And that’s when I screamed.

“Wow! Hey, are you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

From my position on the ground, where I had landed when I bumped into the young woman who now stood towering over me, I looked up and shook my head. “No. I’m okay. You just scared the daylights out of me.” I stood up and wiped grass and dirt from the butt of my pants. My new pants, in case anyone wanted to know, which I picked up at a terrific sale. I turned to look at the woman. “Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry. Ellery Kravec. Maria Kravec was my mom. I came by to see if my dad was back from the police station yet and I saw you out here.”

“Geesh. I never heard you.”

“You looked like you were deep in thought. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“What are you doing out here in the dark? Do you want to come inside? By the way,
who
are you?” Ellery Kravec asked me in a direct way though not sounding very concerned about a stranger in her parents’ yard.

“I’m Alex. Alex Harris Van der Burg. From next door. I’m so sorry about your mother. I called 911,” I said and realized how woefully inadequate it sounded.

In a sudden move Ellery wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you so much,” she said into my shoulder.

“I didn’t do anything. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her. I just called 911.” I felt terrible. I didn’t know what else to say. Standing next to Ellery made me feel totally useless. Maybe if I had known CPR or had one of those prefilled injectors I could have saved Mrs. Kravec, but of course at the time, I had no idea she was in anaphylactic shock. “Really. I just called for help. I wish I could have done more.”

Ellery released me and smiled. “If you hadn’t found her she might still be lying out here. You did more than you know. She would have been out here all night. My father was gone and who knows when she would have been found.”

I gave Ellery a weak smile. “I was just about to go in for some dinner. Would you care to join me? It’s just leftovers?”

Ellery looked over her shoulder at the house. It didn’t look like Mr. Kravec had returned. “That would be nice. I’m sure I can hear my dad drive up from your house.”

Once we were inside, I turned on the heat and took out another plate. “I have meatloaf, potatoes and carrots.”

“I love meatloaf and yours looks delicious. Can I have a big piece?”

“Sure. There’s plenty.” I love meatloaf too and while I don’t make it very often, when I do, I make enough to last for several meals. I cut a thick slice and zapped it in the microwave. When that was done, I put the casserole dish with the potatoes in to warm and then the carrots. “Do you want to eat in the dining room?”

Ellery looked around my kitchen. “No. Here’s fine. I like this room. It’s cozy.”

Ellery Kravec had her father’s dark good looks. She had very dark curly hair which she wore pulled up in a thick pony tail. Her eyes were a deep blue color and she had full lips à la Angelina Jolie. Her nose, thankfully, she inherited from her mother. It was long and nicely shaped whereas her father’s was rather broad.

I put the hot dishes on potholders I had placed on the kitchen table. “Thanks. I like it. My husband renovated it before I moved in. He inherited this house from his grandmother.”

Ellery took a big bite of the meatloaf and sighed contentedly. “My mom told me. She said you guys really fixed up the old place. It was an eyesore before.” She looked up from her plate. “Oh, sorry. That wasn’t very nice. It was just old and a bit rundown.”

I laughed. “Yes, it was. Which is why no one else in the family wanted it and my husband took it on. He did a great job,” I said as I took in the kitchen with its modern appliances. Somehow John had managed to keep the homey feel of the original room and I was glad. It was cozy and comfortable and I liked sitting in here and looking through the mail or having breakfast on weekends.

“Listen,” I began, “I really am so very sorry about your mother. I wish I could have helped more but by time I reached her I don’t think there was much anyone could have done.”

I watched a tear run down Ellery’s face and plop on the table. “I can’t believe she’s gone. She had so much life. She wasn’t even sixty yet. How could this happen? And where is my father? The police came and took him in this afternoon just as he got home from Boston. I was waiting at the house for him. So where is he?” She ate the last bite of meatloaf and asked for another slice.

The girl could eat, though where she put it was anyone’s guess. She was tall like her dad and thin like her mom. Plus, I put her age at somewhere just below thirty. I could eat as much as I wanted when I was that age as well. Ah, youth.

“Why would the police take my dad to the station? They could have just asked him whatever they wanted at home. It doesn’t make sense. And when I got here this morning they were already out back putting all the stuff from the fire in bags and then they put up that tape.”

“Ellery, was your mother allergic to anything?” I thought about what John had said and wondered if Ellery knew about the anaphylactic shock.

Ellery shook her head. Her mouth was full and she took a second to finish the large scoop of potatoes she had shoveled in. “Mmmm. Sorry.” She wiped her lips with the fancy paper napkin I had given her. “Allergic to anything? Yeah. Big time. Poison Ivy. Bee stings. Peanuts.”

“Did she carry one of those pens with her?”

“She always had one close by, but mostly she just kept away from all the stuff she couldn’t have. Bees could be a worry but it’s not like you step outside and get swarmed. She has the pens. A couple in the kitchen. But she wasn’t a paranoid person. It’s ironic she died the way she did because she loved burning leaves. She knew she wasn’t supposed to do it, but she loved watching the fire, the smell of them and figured it was worth the risk of a fine. She told me it was about the only thing she and her dad ever did together so I guess it brought back memories.”

Ellery continued her intake of food while I thought about Maria Kravec’s allergies. There was help right there in the kitchen. I felt horrible. If I had only known I could have grabbed one and plunged it into the woman in time to save her. From what Ellery just said, it must have been a bee. I hadn’t seen too many lately and it was getting cold, but what else could it have been? Maybe a bunch of bees had been hiding in the leaves and the fire brought them out, ready to attack the first thing they saw. I was so caught up in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed Ellery had become quiet, the fork finally set on the table next to a not quite empty plate.

“Ellery, are you okay?”

Tear were streaming down her face. “My mom is gone. I can’t bear it.” She dabbed at her eyes with the napkin and looked across the table at me. “Does any of this make any sense to you, Alex?”

I shook my head. “No. It doesn’t. I guess we’ll just have to wait to see what the police say.”

“Why did my mom have to die now just when we were becoming better friends?”

I was saved from having to come up with an answer by the sound of a car door slamming. Ellery ran into the living room and looked out the window.

“It’s my dad. I better go see what’s going on. And Alex, would it be okay if I took my plate with me?”

By the time I got to work the next morning, Marla Scottsman was already in and working away on her computer. Marla came in a couple times a week and we were able to set up an area for her in a little alcove by where Millie held reign.

Marla had worked in accounting all her life. Her husband, Greg, had worked for the Connecticut Department of Transportation and decided to take early retirement. Once he retired he suddenly found a ton of energy and wanted his sidekick, Marla, by his side to be able to get up and go at a moment’s notice. She was also able to retire and enjoyed taking day trips with Greg, but she needed an escape as well and that was when she had come to us. Over the years she had used our services when her firm had needed temporary help. So it was only natural when she was in need of some temporary work, she showed up on our door step.

Sam and I had been toying with the idea of bringing on some additional help and it turned out Marla was more than happy to take us on. She fit in perfectly with our team and I couldn’t be happier to have her here.

“I just finished up the October final reporting for Bronsky and Williams. Do you want to see it before I put it on Sam’s desk?” Marla had come up behind me in our little kitchen and scared me half to death.

“Marla! Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I grabbed a dish towel and wiped up the tea I’d sloshed on the counter. “No, that’s fine. Just give it all to Sam.”