Murder at the Fortune Teller's Table Page 8

  “Come on, Sergeant. Time to go,” Martha called out.

  The dog obliged by running into his portable crate. Martha picked him up, along with her bag.

  Everyone left to begin their part in gathering information. I rolled up the chart and stowed our notes in my room. I didn’t want the guests to see they were being considered as murder suspects. I went back to the conference room and put the glasses and refreshments on a tray and took it to the kitchen.

  Helen looked up from the cake she was decorating. “How did the meeting go?”

  “We accomplished what we had hoped for. We were able to help Summer after all.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  I decided not to get into the Ken and Diane situation. I’d had my fill of their melodrama for one day. I walked over next to Helen and admired her creation. It was shaped like a horseshoe, with “Happy Birthday” on it in large green letters. Horseshoes curved around the side, making a trail like a horse walking.

  “Looks like someone is in for a fun surprise,” I said.

  “The Hamiltons asked me to make it. They’re giving their daughter a horse for her birthday.” She held up a plastic toy horse. “Luckily I didn’t have to make it in marzipan.”

  “How exciting! That’s a big day in a young girl’s life.”

  I smiled, remembering how I felt when it happened to me. Grandpa surprised me with Jezebel, my first pony. I squealed with delight when what I really wanted to do was scream with happiness. I knew better, though. I didn’t want to scare her.

  “My baking business has really taken off. After the Silver Sentinels posted pictures of the cake I made for Gertie’s son on Facebook, the phone has been ringing off the hook. People are thrilled to be able to get something unique for their celebrations.”

  Helen had several hours off in the afternoon, so the timing worked out well for her new endeavor, and we happily gave her permission to use the B & B’s extensive kitchen for her side job. She was new to the community, and this gave her a chance to meet the townspeople.

  “I’m happy to hear it. I know how much you enjoy baking.” I poured a cup of coffee from the urn on the kitchen counter. “I’m going to go to the post office. Do you need me to take anything for you?”

  “No, I’m good.” She went back to piping frosting and hoofprints.

  I spied Fred, the basset hound, stretched out and body-blocking the back door. “Hi, Fred.”

  He cast a look in my direction and gave a groan of acknowledgment.

  Helen laughed. “I’m convinced he can tell time. At three-fifteen, he places himself in front of the door. If Tommy comes straight home, that’s when he arrives.”

  I went to the office, picked up the mail that needed to go out, and opened the front door. Off to the right side of the lawn, I spied Edie sitting on a chair with an easel in front of her. She had the beginnings of a painting.

  Edie turned as the door opened. “Hi, Ms. Jackson.”

  “Please call me Kelly.”

  “Will do,” she said and turned back to her picture in progress.

  Her strokes were strong, assured. She seemed to know what she wanted on the canvas. The yard came to life as she swiped, dotted, and dabbed. A hummingbird appeared in one vegetation-filled corner. The bright blue ocean in the background provided a backdrop for her work.

  “That’s beautiful. How long have you been painting?”

  “Thank you for the compliment.” She applied a swipe of white, and the beginning of a cloud was added to the background. “Not long. Just a little over a year.”

  “I heard you mention you’re taking a class at the botanical gardens tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I’m also into herbal remedies.” She sighed and put her brush down. “It’s terrible that Auntie is dead.”

  “You knew her?”

  “Yes, I’ve taken classes from her.” She sat back. “We were going start a business together.”

  There was a surprise. A vision of Auntie bent over in her voluminous black robes and Edie in her flowing dress flashed across my mind. Quite the contrast, to say the least. A unique pair of business partners.

  “There’s a restored railroad depot. It’s a wonderful building. They did a fantastic job keeping the ambience. We were going to open a little shop. It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time. A dream of mine. It’d have herbs, homeopathic remedies, and my paintings. Auntie wanted to have some charms to ward off the evil eye, the mati, to help people.” Edie smiled. “She loved her life here, and she loved the old country. I’ll miss her.”

  “What will happen with your business plans now?”

  “I know enough that I’ll go ahead on my own. I inherited money from my grandfather that I can use to fund it. My husband, John, will be more supportive of it with me handling things by myself.” She tilted her head and gazed at the painting.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s a shrewd businessman, and certainly knows a lot more about running an enterprise than I do. He was uncomfortable about my going into a partnership with Auntie.”

  “Didn’t he trust her?”

  “It wasn’t that. John checked her out online and visited her place with me a couple of times. He was okay with her. It was the principle of it all. He was concerned about being legally tied to someone.” Edie shook her head. “It’s hard to believe she’d mistake hemlock for one of her herbs.”

  There it was again. Hard to believe. And it was hard to believe.

  With a dreamy smile, she picked up a slender brush and began painting a deep blue flower. Her creative talent was bringing the lush garden to life on her canvas.

  I said good-bye and continued on to the post office. Edie had learned what she needed to know from the Greek fortune teller. With Auntie gone, she could fulfill her goal—a business of her own. Was it something she felt so strongly about that she’d murdered to see it happen?

  Chapter 13

  The post office was only four blocks away. I walked on the wooden boardwalk and then onto a dirt path. There was a line when I got there. I walked past a woman in a light blue sweater and faded black jeans holding a baby. Two young boys stood behind her. One of them wore a Golden State Warriors T-shirt emblazoned with “Curry” and the number 30 under the name on the front, and played an electronic game. The younger one in a striped top finished a candy bar and shoved the wrapper in his pocket.

  I went over to the supply counter and got one of the flat-rate envelopes. The two books a guest had left fit perfectly. I sealed it and took the label I’d prepared at the office out of my purse. I glanced to my right and noticed Edie’s husband, John, writing on a form. His brow was creased, and he was intent on filling out the document. He didn’t notice me.

  The boy in the striped shirt reached for the device the other one was holding, but the boy turned away and kept playing.

  The younger boy yelled, “It’s my turn now. Give it to me.” He grabbed for the game.

  “No, it’s not.”

  The boy in the basketball jersey held the device out of the reach of the shorter one, then ran a couple of steps away, not looking where he was going. He ran into John, and the man’s pen and the paper he’d been filling out went flying.

  I picked up the form and noticed it was a money order. Before I could hand it to John, he grabbed it out of my hand.

  “Thanks,” he said, his face flushed, and put the paper on the counter.

  The boy in the Warriors shirt put the pen on the counter. “Sorry, sir.”

  “Boys, get over here,” the woman with the baby said.

  The two joined her. The one who had run away gave the game to the younger boy. “Okay. You can have it now.”

  An adolescent mercurial mood change.

  I joined the line. John finished what he was doing and did the same. Another person stood between us. I was glad I didn’t have to engage in any small talk. I’d had enough of the Nelsen family for the day.

  I paid for the mailing, went outside, and p
aused a minute to enjoy the view. The sparkling blue sea peeked at me between rows of white buildings. Only a couple of blocks separated the post office from the Pacific Ocean, and the afternoon breeze carried its salty tang. I started to walk.

  “Ms. Jackson, could I talk to you for a minute?” John called out as he exited the building.

  I stopped and turned. “Sure.” I noticed a bus stop bench. “Let’s sit here.”

  “Perfect.”

  We settled on the wooden seat, its hard slats pressing into my back.

  “It’s about the paper you saw in there.” He paused.

  “Please. It’s none of my business. You don’t need to tell me anything.”

  His smile was a rueful one. “Actually, I feel I do. Like it or not, you’ve become involved in some of the dealings of our family.”

  That was an understatement.

  “A close friend of mine has financial difficulties. I’m helping out.”

  “That’s nice of you.” But why was he telling me?

  He frowned and looked toward the ocean. “Please don’t say anything to my father-in-law about it. He’s dead set against lending anyone money.”

  “I won’t mention it.” That was an easy request to accommodate. I planned to have as little to do with the man as possible.

  “Thanks. I’m beginning to take over running the business. He recently made me a partner in two of the dealerships, and I don’t want anything to mar my relationship with him.”

  “Why is he so against helping people?”

  “He’s not against helping; he’s against giving them money. Ken wants people to earn it. He feels people should make their own way in the world. He and his father didn’t have anything handed to them. There were some tough times among the good ones. They worked hard to build their business.”

  I saw an opportunity to learn more. “I know he has car dealerships. Is there more?”

  John raised his eyebrows at me. “You’ve never heard of the Nelsen car dealerships?”

  I shook my head. Clearly, I was out of touch, at least with John’s world.

  “They acquired a string of car businesses. It’s a virtual empire now. Ken calls himself the car king. You can drive between here and the Oregon border, and there’ll always be a Nelsen dealership nearby.”

  I decided to see what I could find out about Edie’s plans and the connection with Auntie.

  “Then he must be happy about Edie wanting to start her own shop.”

  “I guess. I don’t get a business about plants and paintings, but the fact that she wants to try it says something about her desire to achieve.”

  “I understand you met Auntie.”

  “I did. Luckily Edie didn’t have any interest in the fortune telling aspect of working with the woman. I didn’t want her going near anything to do with that.”

  “I got the impression from Edie that you were reluctant to have her go into partnership with Auntie.”

  “Partnerships can be tricky. Even best friends find obstacles and have disagreements they don’t expect.” He shrugged. “That being said, I had the papers for the business drawn up, and Auntie signed them. I was going to surprise Edie next week, on our anniversary, with the forms and a lease for the shop she wanted.”

  “Edie feels she can do it on her own with Auntie gone.”

  “I know. She told me. I’ll go ahead and give her the keys to the store.”

  He studied his hands and began turning his gold wedding band. It had a single, small diamond. “Progress on taking over the business has slowed a bit because Sue Ellen has been talking about a divorce. Edie says it’s just to get attention, that she really doesn’t want to end the marriage. I’m hoping with me doing more of the work, maybe they can patch things up.”

  I squirmed. I really didn’t want to know all this personal information.

  “I don’t know what this new situation with the previous marriage cropping up is going to do in terms of their relationship or the business.”

  We saw Anthony about half a block away. He waved, and we returned the greeting. He walked toward us.

  Anthony reached the bench and sat next to me. “I wanted to thank you personally, Ms. Jackson, for the work you’ve done on behalf of my half brother, Mark. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you and the others to carry out the wishes of someone else regarding such a delicate matter.”

  “We felt it was the least we could do, and it was a way to honor Summer’s memory and help Mark.”

  “When will we know if Mark wants to meet us?” Anthony asked.

  “One of the Sentinels, Mary Rutledge, is meeting with him tomorrow morning and will talk to him then. Someone will get in touch with you regarding his answer.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced at his watch and then got up. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting a friend.” He smiled and left.

  “I couldn’t do what he does,” John said. “He deals with death on a regular basis.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He works at a hospice house. He’s a very gentle soul and has a gift for relating to people. He showed me some of the cards and letters he’s gotten from the relatives of people who passed away. The gratefulness they expressed was touching.”

  I remembered my grandmother’s slow fading. “I don’t think I could do that either.”

  “When he’s not there, he works at a homeless shelter. Besides helping with food and cleaning at the place, he counsels them as well. Anthony doesn’t have a desire for material things. Ken doesn’t understand him at all.”

  Why did this not surprise me?

  “The spirit is what matters to him. He lives with the rest of the family on the estate.” He laughed. “Actually, I call it the compound. It’s ostentatious, to say the least. Anthony lives over the garage, which is separate from the house. He has meals with us occasionally but goes his own way. He doesn’t have to work. There’s a trust for each member of the family that pays them monthly.”

  It was time to end learning more about this family. I started to stand. John beat me to it.

  He stood abruptly. “Sorry. I seem to be rattling on. I don’t often get a chance to talk about these things.”

  We walked the rest of the block together and said our good-byes. Then he turned and headed toward the ocean.

  What kind of life must the people in that family lead? John was concerned about how Ken would react to him helping a friend in need. Actually, as I thought about it, he seemed almost fearful of what might happen.

  Could this in any way relate to the deaths of Auntie and Summer? He’d indicated the marriage mess could impact the business. Did he want to take over the dealerships so much he had tried to keep the information hidden?

  Chapter 14

  I walked a few steps to the corner, looked at the street names, and saw I was on State Street. Looking at my watch, I thought I had time to make it to the hot tub before the evening wine and cheese. The sound of an engine caught my attention, and I looked to my right. Daniel’s Volkswagen bus was headed in my direction. He stopped in front of me and leaned out the window.

  “Hi, Kelly. Do you want a lift?”

  “Good to see you, Daniel. I was thinking about going to see the world’s largest hot tub. The Sentinels told me about it.”

  “Lots of stories around that tub. The Redwood Cove Museum has pictures and a couple of books about it. Hop in, and I’ll take you to it.”

  I walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. Daniel was proud the bus was entirely original. The immaculate interior had a seat with a few age cracks here and there and the armrests were a bit frayed, but there wasn’t a speck of dust.

  “I ran into Rudy and Ivan, and they told me what happened this afternoon. That must’ve been some meeting.”

  “It was. Those people have a lot of sorting out to do. At least some of them are willing to help Mark.”

  We putted along for about four blocks, and Daniel pulled over next to a park-like area. An enormous wooden structure, faded
with age, occupied the clearing. I guessed it was a little higher than my waist. Redwood trees cast a shadow over the cracked boards. The tub was surrounded by thick stands of bushes along the sides and back.

  “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll come over to the inn a little later to pick up Allie. She and Tommy are doing their homework.”

  “Okay.”

  In front of the tub there was a wooden stand with a photograph and description protected by a plastic shield. The black-and-white picture reminded me of ones I’d seen of Coney Island. The photo showed the tub full of people. Some splashed around, and others leaned against the side. It was like a huge aboveground pool.

  I began to walk around the perimeter along a well-beaten path. I looked for the hiding places Gertie had mentioned. I found a few slots here and there, and could imagine how they had been covered by a piece of wood inserted over the opening. The rim was charred in a few places.

  Faded paint in what had once been psychedelic colors could still be made out on the sides. Carved initials defaced the weathered wood and marked the visits of those now long gone. The brush began to get a little thicker, but the path was still evident. I picked up my pace. I wanted to finish getting around it and go back to the inn.

  I pushed past a branch and stopped. “Oh,” came out on its own accord as I almost ran into two men.

  I took a step back as one of them smiled, revealing rows of yellow teeth spotted with decay. His dusty, matted, dreadlocked hair had a few leaves clinging to it. His friend wore a plaid jacket with the cuffs missing. His stringy blond hair was tied back in a long ponytail. I didn’t see his teeth because he wasn’t smiling.

  A large plastic bag rested against the leg of one of them. The other one had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Two more men appeared and then a third. The group uniform was one of dirty and worn.

  Beyond them, two men had their backs to me, one of them holding a paper bag. The other one, in a white T-shirt, was talking to a slender, doe-eyed young man with dark curly hair who kept looking from one side to the other with rapid, jerky movements. Every so often he twitched and a spasm contorted his face. As I watched, the man with the bag passed it to the young adult.