Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music (11 page)

“Okay, I'm on my way. Just keep watch from where you are and let me know if anyone gets near the body. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

It didn't take Tony long to get ready. Even as he dressed, he called Edith to come over and stay with the boys. She answered on the second ring and arrived at the front door at the same time he did. It looked like she had pulled sweatpants and a sweatshirt on over her nightgown, but her eyes were bright and calm.

“You're a great neighbor.” He kissed her wrinkled cheek as he walked past.

As he drove, the Blazer's light bar was flashing but there was little need for it. He didn't see a single other vehicle on the road. Even keeping his speed down to a safe level as he maneuvered the twisting section, he was able to make good time. Luckily, the only animals he spotted were a couple of raccoons having a picnic next to the road. Their little masked faces made them look guilty as they sat there, immobilized by the bright headlights on his vehicle.

As he drove, he played back in his mind the conversation he'd had with Theo. He hadn't caught it all since he had been sleeping soundly when she started talking, and then when he was wide awake, she was dissolving into what he thought of as pre-hysterics. Why had she been so upset it was raining on the body? And what had she said about Art Trimble? She had seen him outside? She didn't say when, but assumed it was just before she had called. And what else? He slapped the steering wheel when it came to him. Of course, the barking seal. He'd told her about the odd message, delivered in a raspy voice, left on Mr. Beasley's telephone. Had Art Trimble made that telephone call? Had he left the message on the answering machine? And if so, why?

Tony pulled past the covered drive in front of The Lodge and parked the Blazer. He left the covered space for the ambulance. Doc Nash was already on his way up with it. Tony took the camera with him. If this was anything except an obvious accident, he'd get Wade out of his nice warm bed and let him stand out in the cold rain taking pictures.

The front door was locked, so Tony rang the night bell about six times in quick succession. Finally, the disembodied voice of Beth Trimble came through the speaker. “Yes?” She sounded really cranky about being disturbed.

“Beth? It's Sheriff Abernathy. Can you unlock the door please? It's official business.”

“Tony? It's not even four-thirty in the morning. Okay, okay. Art's on his way to open the door for you.” Even as she spoke, Tony saw the door to the owner's residence open. Art Trimble was pulling a dark plaid robe over his baby blue pajamas. His feet were bare as he padded toward Tony, yawning and stretching.

As he pushed the door open to let Tony inside, he mumbled, “Couldn't stay away from Theo, huh?” He gave Tony a sly, leering look that made Tony want to punch him.

“Like I told Beth, it's official business.” Tony noted Art's wardrobe and demeanor. He acted like he had just been rousted from a sound sleep, but Theo had seen him only a few minutes earlier. Had there been enough time for him to change and get to sleep? “I'll need you to wait here and let in Doc Nash.”

“I can just unlock the door and go with you,” Art bounced back. “You know, in case you need help.”

Tony stared at him, and finally Art quit jumping around. Why hadn't he asked about the nature of the business? Unless he already knew what it was about. “Just wait here for the doctor.”

Without lingering any longer, Tony strode down the hallway and out onto the walkway. The path lights were the only form of illumination in the back of The Lodge, but at least the rain had all but stopped. Fine drizzle like this wouldn't make the scene much worse. It had to have been almost destroyed already, thanks to the earlier heavy rain. He shone his flashlight on the shrubs. The sudden beam of light sent a pair of rabbits scurrying deeper into the bushes. When it came to rest on the still body, draped so obscenely over the bush, Tony understood why Theo had been so disturbed by the rain. It disturbed him too. It would also make the investigation more difficult.

He looked up, trying to see where Scarlet had fallen from. Theo waved from her window, almost directly above the body. He waved back, even as he noted part of the railing around the veranda on the floor above her room was down. He also noticed where the body lay in relation to the gap in the railing and decided the general scene was wrong for an accident. She hadn't fallen. There was no way the thing around her neck had come to be there accidentally.

Doc Nash trotted along the sidewalk holding a blue golf umbrella over his head as Tony started punching the buttons on his cell phone. “Got us another one, I see.”

Doc Nash waited until Tony snapped a series of photographs before making a cursory examination of Scarlet. He stood for a long time, shining a light on the woman's neck before returning to the shelter of his umbrella.

From where they stood, Tony could see both the body and Art Trimble. Art stood in the doorway of The Lodge, shifting his weight from side to side, making his bathrobe sway. His eyes were moving constantly, never appearing to focus on anything. To Tony it looked like Art wanted to come outside and see what was going on and also wasn't sure he was up to the scene.

Doc's conversation was short and to the point. “I'd guess your killer strangled her upstairs and dropped her into the bush. It was murder.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“There's a thin wire wrapped twice around her neck.” The doctor shook his head, a silent commentary on the cruelties people inflict. “It's tight enough to dig into her skin.”

Tony saw Theo from the corner of his eye. She had changed from her pajamas and robe into warmer clothes. Tony knew she had kept her horrible vigil until he waved to her. Now dressed in sweatpants and one of his old sweatshirts, she stood motionless near the outside door, staring at Art Trimble's pajama covered legs and his bare feet. Her expression might have been confusion or surprise. With a shiver, she lifted her face and met Tony's gaze. Her head moved slightly from side to side.

Tony watched both of them. He was concerned about Theo and intensely curious about Art. Whatever the hotel owner was involved in, he had changed clothes since Theo had last seen him. “Well, Art,” said Tony. “I think the best thing for you to do now would be to return to your apartment and stay there with your wife. I'll have some questions for you a bit later.” As he watched the man vanish down the hallway, he knew Art was guilty. The question was: guilty of what? He might have been simply cheating on his wife, but he had definitely done something wrong tonight. Why hadn't he been more persistent about trying to determine what had brought Tony into his hotel at this hour? And with Doc Nash at his heels? Was the man completely devoid of curiosity, which Tony doubted, or did he already know why Tony and Doc were here so early in the morning?

He turned his attention to Theo, who stood so still and looked so forlorn. The lobby lights were dim, and she was almost part of a shadow. Tony stepped toward her, leaving the umbrella in the doctor's care. Only when he opened his arms for her did she finally leave her post and dash into their shelter. Pressing her chilled face into the warmth of his jacket covered chest, she clung to him. After a minute, she finally managed to ask, “Did she fall?” Her voice was a mere whisper and she was shaking all over.

“No. It doesn't look like it to me.” He wondered how much to tell her. “Doc thinks she was dead for some time before she was dropped over the side. That's just his first impression and nothing I want spread around.” Theo nodded her understanding. Her shivers increased, and he pulled her even closer. “While we wait, I need for you to answer a couple of questions.” He led her over to where he could still see the body but kept her face turned away from it. “Wade will be here in a few minutes, and then we can go inside.”

“Okay.” Her shivering lessened a bit.

“Did anything unusual happen last night? What time did everyone go to bed?”

Theo thought for a minute and pulled back so she could look up at Tony's face. “Melissa went to bed first. I'm not sure of the time, but I think it was about ten-thirty. Then Eleanor went to bed about eleven-thirty and Scarlet was right behind her.” Theo's eyes searched his. Hers were glistening with unshed tears as she answered his unspoken question. “As expected, I guess, Eleanor was pretty obnoxious at the start and then, after Martha blew up at her, Eleanor shut up and just sat there quietly working on her quilt. When she went up to bed, she said she was going to read for a while. Do you know she drinks? The big travel mug she always carries was filled with some rum concoction.”

Tony watched as Theo repeatedly ran a hand through her tangled curls until her hair formed a ball around her head like a wad of dandelion fluff. He waited for her to finish her story.

“Most of us went to bed at about midnight, I think. When I went up, Susan and Martha and your mom were the only ones still working. I have no idea what time they called it a night.”

“Do you know what rooms everyone is in?”

“Sure. I have a list Beth gave me when we checked in, but there is also a master list taped onto the counter in the front. Anyone could check it and know where to find the others.”

“Hell's bells, that will certainly help narrow the field, now won't it?” Tony felt something between incredulous and appalled.

“Going back to last night.” Theo ignored his bluster. “The evening was normal for a retreat. We worked. We snacked. We got caught up on current events. We had birthday cake. Scarlet was pretty aloof, but she showed us her embroidery, which is beautiful.” She took a deep breath. “When I went to my room, it was stuffy so I opened the window before I went to bed. I stood there for a while and enjoyed the fresh air, so I know she wasn't down there then. I had on my glasses, and I would have seen her.”

“Did you see or hear anything that seemed to be out of place? At any time?”

“No.” She paused with her fingers still entangled in her hair. “Not then.” She glanced up and Tony waited patiently. “It didn't seem important at the time, but . . .” When she stopped talking and didn't start again, Tony squeezed her side, encouraging her. “I thought I woke up because I was cold. Now I think something else woke me up, and it was only then I realized I was cold. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely.” He pulled her fingers out of her hair and tried to fix the curls for her. “What woke you?” He managed to keep his tone even, but it was taking all of his self-control to just stand there playing with her hair. Sweet little Theo could have witnessed the killing and become a target herself. What he really wanted to do was to hit something. Hard.

Theo turned away from Tony and faced the corpse. “Give me your flashlight.” He did. When the bright light hit Scarlet's face, Theo's arm jerked, and she quickly moved the beam to illuminate the bushes and small trees growing right up to the stones of the building. Theo appeared to be listening to something. “It wasn't her landing there.” Her focus turned upwards. The light showed a space where a rail was missing from the veranda. “It was a wooden sound, like a board was being scraped against something. I'll bet it was someone moving that rail. We were all warned about there being a temporary barrier on the veranda. Now it's not there.”

Doc Nash ushered Wade into the area.

The deputy was already taking photographs as he came through the hotel. He smiled at Theo but did not speak. Tony pointed up to the area where the rail was missing. “After you finish photographing the scene down here, I want you to be sure and focus on the missing rail, the area all around it and her room. Check for footprints and fingerprints if you can.” The rain began falling again in earnest. “That's not going to help. You'd better snap those as quickly as possible.” Tony pushed Theo back into the hotel. “Show me the list.”

Theo did. As described, the list was posted where anyone could read it. The drawer where the keys were kept was ajar. Tony felt anger surge through him. “I'm going to get Art. You want to stay here or go to your room?” He was already headed for the Trimbles' apartment.

“I'll wait over there.” Theo pointed into the lounge. “I'm still cold, but I can wrap up in my unfinished quilt. There is one more thing I think you should know.” Theo glanced up, looking into Tony's eyes. “Art was dressed in hiking boots and warm clothes when he came in behind me and not in the robe he was wearing just now.”

“Really? How interesting.” Tony's lips lifted into a parody of a smile. “Do you think he saw you?”

“No.” Theo pointed to the plant in the alcove. “I was in my pajamas and ducked down behind that.” She walked away as Tony approached the owners' suite.

Art Trimble was neatly dressed in slacks and a sweater when he answered the knock on his door. “You haven't told me what's going on, Tony. Can I help?”

“Yes.” Fascinated by the man's costume changes, Tony waved toward the lobby. “I need you to come out and answer a couple of questions about the front desk.” He slipped his notebook out of his pocket. “To start with, what time do you lock the doors?”

“Usually, it is eight, but last night we locked them at seven-thirty. We weren't expecting any other guests. The guest keys will unlock the outside doors, you know.”

“Is this drawer with the keys always open?” Tony hoped not. It would be an open invitation to a building-wide crime wave.

Art shook his head. “It is almost always locked. Beth and I have keys and so does Gavin, her nephew, but that's all.”

Tony nodded. “Don't touch it. It will need to be checked for fingerprints.” He rubbed the side of his nose and cocked his head. “Do you know how many keys should be in there for each room?”

“No. As far as being locked,” Art cleared his throat, “it was left open for the quilters because they all know us and each other. We're going to redo all of the locks and get the magnetic strip keys this winter. We haven't been replacing lost keys for a while, so we don't have as many as we used to and each room is different. I'll have to get into the computer to tell you how many are left for each room.” Stopping his nervous monologue at last, Art took a deep breath and rested his fists on his hips. “Now will you tell me what is going on? If someone was robbed in my hotel, I have a right to know.”