Читать книгу Murder at the Falls - Arlene Kay - Страница 15

Chapter 7

“Perri—I hope I haven’t disturbed you. I didn’t know where else to go.” Despite the horrendous circumstances of the day, Magdalen was perfectly composed. Oddly so.

I was too shocked to speak but, fortunately, Babette was not. She flung open her side door, leapt from my car and confronted Magdalen. “How in the world did you get here?” she asked. “They’ve got half the state searching for you.”

Magdalen bowed her head, acknowledging the problem. “I drove, of course. Fortunately, my night vision is still excellent. Perri gave me her business card the first time we met, so I looked up her address on the Internet. Thank heaven for GPS.”

Before we continued our discussion, Pruett nudged us toward the house. The weather had gotten chilly, and despite her obvious spunk, Ms. Melmoth was, in her own words, no spring chicken. Sounded like a good idea.

“We all need a hot toddy,” Babette said as she bustled about my kitchen. “I’ll make them.” We made ourselves comfortable in the family room, while Pruett lit a fire. Thatcher, my irascible Maine coon, sized up our guest and immediately plopped in her lap, purring loudly. Clara the border collie, wrapped herself around Magdalen’s feet.

“You’re quite a hit with animals,” Pruett said.

Magdalen stretched out her arms and sighed. “True. I love them and they seem to reciprocate.” After Babette served our hot toddies Magdalen took a sip and stared directly into his eyes. “I know you have some questions for me, so ask away. Please. Don’t feel shy.”

“Is that Nurse Ross’s car?” I asked.

“Oh yes. All the staff leave their keys in the ignitions, you know, so that made it easy. Luckily her sedan is older. Keys, not those newfangled fob things. I had no trouble at all and, quite obviously, she wasn’t going to need it.” Magdalen saw the look of shock on our faces and reacted immediately. “Forgive me, dears. That sounded so callous.”

Pruett, who holds an advanced degree in mendacity, brushed away her apology. “You did what you had to do. I presume you felt threatened.”

She nodded. “This is so selfish of me. I don’t want to endanger you by staying. I’ll find some other shelter. A hotel.”

The toddy, combined with my recent nap, helped to settle me down. “Don’t even think of it. My guest room is always ready for visitors. What else can we do for you?” My head spun with thoughts of police reaction and the agony suffered by Irene Wilson.

Magdalen, on the other hand, seemed composed and clearheaded. “I know I need to go back there, but first I must speak with an attorney. Do you know one who might help me?”

I knew Babette employed a battery of lawyers, but Pruett spoke up first. “My attorney is one of the best. I’ll set up an appointment with him first thing tomorrow if you like.” He pulled out his cell phone, dialed, and stepped out of the room.

“Such a nice young man,” Magdalen trilled. “You are one lucky girl, Perri.”

I am way too old to blush and well beyond girlhood, but nevertheless that’s what happened. Magdalen tut-tutted and Babette laughed out loud.

“That’s just what I tell her, Magdalen. Pruett adores Perri. Anyone can see that.”

I quickly changed course from my personal life to Magdalen’s. “How many people know about the manuscript? Irene does, but have you mentioned it to anyone else?”

“No.”

“What about your doctor?” Babette asked. “He hinted that you made stuff up. That tells me he knows or suspects somethin’ fishy.”

Before she answered, Pruett glided back into the room, sat next to Magdalen on the sofa, and squeezed her hand. “Everything’s all set. Bright and early tomorrow at nine thirty. Micah Briggs is one of the good guys, plus he’s tops in his field. You’ll like him.”

Magdalen closed her eyes with fatigue or relief, I couldn’t say which. That was my cue to lead her to the guest room and make her comfortable.

“Everything will work out,” I told her. “You’re safe here. We’ve got dogs, a security system, and a big, strong man to protect us.” I felt hypocritical about the big, strong man remark, but for women of Magdalen’s generation it seemed appropriate and comforting.

“I feel better already,” she said wryly, “although I’d bet you’re quite adept at protecting yourself. Army training, you know.” Before I left the room, she tugged at my sleeve. “Perhaps Mr. Pruett should move Nurse Ross’s car into your garage. No sense in advertising that you have a guest.” Magdalen winked at me, as if it were our little secret, emphasizing anew that despite her genteel ways, this woman was no pushover.

* * * *

Sleep eluded me that night. Every creaking board and shifting wind caused me to bolt upright and peer into the darkness. Images of the seemingly indestructible Nurse Carole Ross covered in chocolate haunted my dreams. At dawn I surrendered, tiptoed to the kitchen, and fired up my Nespresso machine. A pet parade immediately surrounded me, demanding tribute. After attending to their needs, I eased back into my wing chair, closed my eyes, and sipped the magic brew.

“Mind if I join you?” Pruett asked. Despite the early hour, he had already showered, shaved, and spruced up. He seldom wore a suit and when he did the results were spectacular. I tucked the throw under my chin and drank in the sight, mindful of the ragtag outfit I wore.

“Hope I didn’t wake you,” I said. “Good thing you left that suit here. Let me get you some espresso.”

He waved me away. “Not to worry, my liege. Even a humble bachelor can master a coffee capsule, you know. It’s my specialty.”

I must have dozed off because when I awakened Pruett was busily tapping his iPhone. As for my other guests, stentorian snores from above confirmed that Babette, who had elected to bunk in with Magdalen rather than return to her empty house, was still fast asleep. Magdalen had yet to make an appearance. After last evening’s shock, that was hardly surprising. Not a problem. I subscribed to the more the merrier philosophy and was pleased to host a full house.

“I’ll freshen up and fix breakfast,” I told Pruett.

“You look plenty fresh right now,” he teased. “Flannel always turns me on.”

In the dark, I had grabbed Pip’s old robe by mistake. There was nothing Freudian about that gesture. Pip and everything about him still comforted me like nothing else ever could. He was and always would be a vital part of my life. Pruett knew and respected that. I think.

“It won’t take long,” I said. “Natural beauty, you know.”

He ignored my joke and turned serious. “Right you are. ‘She walks in beauty, like the night…’ Lord Byron might have been describing you, my love.”

We locked eyes, and for a moment I considered leaping into his arms. The sudden appearance of Magdalen Melmoth saved me from perdition. She had apparently pressed her clothing from yesterday and applied a touch of lipstick. The term “fresh as a daisy” fit perfectly.

“Pardon me, children,” she said. “Am I interrupting anything?”

Pruett and I both assured her that she was not. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll get dressed and make breakfast,” I said. For some unknown reason I felt guilty, as if I were a child caught in an indiscretion. I sped upstairs and did my best to revive myself. The results pleased me, although I fell far below Byron’s illusion of romance.

I emerged, tempted by the scent of eggs, bacon, and pancakes courtesy of that dazzling duo, Melmoth and Pruett. Apparently, a hint of the feast had wafted up to the guest room as well. Babette was busily setting the dining room table with my best china and a few added touches from the back garden.

She reached greedily for espresso, stifling a yawn as she did so. “Well, missy,” she said, “about time you put in an appearance. Now we can finally eat. I’m starvin’.” My pal was a woman with many appetites, all of them lusty. I couldn’t argue with the sentiment, though. Death and danger made me ravenously hungry too. Strange as it seemed, there was something life affirming about a plate filled with scrambled eggs.

“I’ll drive Magdalen into the city,” Pruett said. “That way she can meet Micah and get comfortable. Pick her up afterward at my place if you want.”

Magdalen removed her apron and dried her hands. “Nonsense. You’re not running a taxi service for me. Perri has a business to maintain. I’ll just call an Uber.”

Once again, Magdalen gobsmacked all three of us. Who would have expected the Uber phenomenon to penetrate all the way to the Falls?

“Are you sure?”

“I insist,” Magdalen said quite firmly. The issue was closed as far as she was concerned.

Fortunately, Babette proposed an alternative. “Well, I don’t run any business, and it’s no big deal to drive into Georgetown. Besides, Magdalen and I can have lunch afterward. It’ll be fun!”

Magdalen was either too kind or too polite to disappoint Babette. She agreed, and after breakfast the trio made their exit. When he kissed me goodbye, Pruett whispered that he would notify the sheriff about Magdalen’s whereabouts. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything will be fine.”

Famous last words.