A Touch of Forever, page 37
Roen did not have to think about it. “No. A gun to my head couldn’t have prompted me to propose.”
“I thought she aimed lower,” said Ben.
Roen gave him a wry sideways glance and was in time to see Ridley poke him in the side with her elbow. At least she had refrained from using the scissors.
“I don’t think she understood that,” said Ridley, addressing Roen. “She didn’t know you were married until you told her. She expected a pregnancy would produce a different outcome.”
“I imagine you’re right. Did you suspect something about her pregnancy wasn’t right?”
“No. I would have told you if I’d thought that. It’s obvious now why she wouldn’t schedule an appointment with me. You know, Roen, she couldn’t have remained in Frost Falls much longer, not without an elaborate plan for a miscarriage. And that cushion would not accommodate a growing belly. She had to know I’d discover her deception one way or the other.”
“The fly in the ointment,” said Ben with considerable pride. “That’s my wife.”
Roen noticed that Ridley did not take offense. “What’s to be done now?” he asked.
Ben tossed the cushion on the far side of the bed. “Her body needs to be moved to Ridley’s surgery. She’ll be able to confirm that Miss Headley was drowned. I’ll get Hitch and Abe to help. There’s a stretcher in the surgery. Do you want to inform her father or shall I?”
“I will do it. You should send a telegram later. He will want to hear from the law.”
“Were they close?” asked Ridley.
“No, not according to Victorine. Victor never spoke to me about her so I don’t know what he thought about their relationship. I don’t believe he’ll come here, although he could surprise me. Regardless, he’ll want to bury her in New York whether he accompanies her casket or not.”
“We are skirting the obvious question,” said Ridley.
Ben said, “I suppose you mean who did this. Roen? Suspects?”
“If I were in your shoes, I’d be at the top of that list.”
“Yeah. You are.” He looked at Ridley. “This is why I don’t speculate before I have all the facts.”
“Point taken,” she said, mildly contrite.
“I’ll want to speak to Abe and Ellie to learn if they heard or saw anyone last night.”
“The backward key,” said Roen.
Ben nodded. “Yes, there’s that.” He explained to Ridley what Abe had told them about the key that morning. “It suggests that someone used it to gain entry to this suite and put it back in the wrong direction. Perhaps the person was concerned about not being admitted if he knocked and announced himself, or perhaps he valued the element of surprise. There are only three other rooms on this floor. One is the apartment where Abe and Ellie live. The other two are rooms similar to those on the floor below. Hitch and I will speak to all the guests later today.”
Roen said, “To answer the question you haven’t asked, after you and Ridley left last night, I saw Fedora safely to Mrs. Brady’s and then went straight home. I was there the rest of the evening, most of it in bed with my wife. Lizzie had a bad dream that closely mirrored the events of the afternoon and came looking for her mother. She can vouch that I was in the room.”
Ben rubbed behind his ear and strained to tamp down his smile. “I think I can spare little Lizzie an interrogation. Lily’s word will be enough.”
“Thank you. I didn’t expect that you’d rely on mine alone.”
Ben nodded. “Can’t say I’m not glad you understand. If a man in my job isn’t suspicious, he’s dead.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Fedora was standing outside in front of the boardinghouse when Hitch arrived. She wore a scarf wrapped over her head instead of a hat and pulled it forward so that it covered most of the bruised side of her face. She kept her head down and spoke very little. None of that was unusual. No one who saw her leaving the boardinghouse gave her more than a single glance, and the absence of comments told her that her bruised cheek and red eye hadn’t been noticed or no one cared enough to inquire about them.
Hitch didn’t notice either. Fedora was content to listen to him prattle on about settling an argument at the Songbird between a ranch hand from Twin Star and Buzz Winegarten’s nephew before it became a physical altercation.
“Folks were placing bets and Buzz was taking them,” said Hitch. “He doesn’t much care for his sister’s son. Keeps him on ’cause he’s family, but watches him like a bird of prey every time Lincoln’s hand gets near the till. Hey, here we are already. It doesn’t take long enough to walk you here. I liked the walk to the Butterworth better on account of it taking more time.”
Fedora nodded and thanked Hitch for his escort. She opened the back door and out of habit began removing her scarf as she made to step inside. Hitch’s sharp intake of breath stopped her. Her hand hovered near her face for several moments before she dropped it to her side.
Hitch grasped Fedora by the shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes widened. Above them, his eyebrows rose. “What happened to you?”
“Ask the sheriff. Please, I’d rather not talk about it.” She saw that he was disappointed in her answer but accepting of it.
“Then I’ll be going. Put some ice on that cheek.”
She reached into a coat pocket and pulled out the empty ice bag to show it to him. “I will.”
Hitch left her, but not before he surprised them both by placing his lips against her bruised cheek and then the uninjured corner of her mouth. “I love you,” he said.
Fedora stared after his retreating figure, and when she finally stepped inside the kitchen, she thought her feet did not quite touch the ground.
* * *
• • •
Martin Cabot saw Deputy Springer striding toward the jail. The young man was obviously in a hurry. Martin suspected he knew the reason for the deputy’s haste, but the state of Fedora Chen’s lovely countenance was no longer his concern, and as he was on his way to the train station to purchase a ticket, he didn’t have time to dwell on it. There was always an early train heading somewhere, and he intended to be on it. The destination was of no importance to him. Eventually he would make his way back to Manhattan, but he could take his time about it. He had money of his own as well as cash he removed from Victorine’s suite. He found her reserves in a black lacquered jewelry box at the bottom of her wardrobe when he stashed the damp towels. It struck him as ironic that the box was a Chinese work of art with gold hand-painted characters gracing the lid and sides. There was also jewelry with the cash, but because the rings and necklaces could be identified with Victorine, he moved the jewelry to a drawer, where it could be found. He kept the box for himself as a memento.
Martin had always liked mementos.
Smiling, he walked into the station house and rang the bell to bring the agent out from the back. “A ticket for your next train, please,” he said.
“Going east or west? North or south?”
“Yes,” said Martin. “All of those.”
The agent, who had been working for the railroad since some of the first track had been laid, had heard it all. He did not even bother to ask for the answer to be repeated, nor did he take much notice of the man making the request. People came. People went. He stayed. That was just the way it was.
He adjusted his spectacles and studied the schedule lying on the counter. “Huh.” Turning away, he took a piece of chalk from the slate board tray on the wall and changed the arrival and departure times of No. 462. “There,” he said, returning the chalk to the tray. “That’s the one you want. Forgot to change the times last night. She’s going to north to Cheyenne. That’ll do you?”
“Where’s her end point?”
“That’d be Sacramento. ’Course, once you’re in Cheyenne, you can change trains and go anywhere you have a mind to.”
“All right. A ticket to Cheyenne.” Martin paid the agent, took the ticket, and headed back to the boardinghouse. It was early yet, and there were a couple of hours left before he would be leaving. He could still have breakfast at the Butterworth. The idea amused him, but then he dismissed it as a needless risk. It would have to be undercooked eggs and overcooked bacon at Mrs. Brady’s before he packed.
* * *
• • •
Roen intercepted Hitch as he was heading home from the hotel. Once Victorine’s body had been moved to Ridley’s surgery, his presence was irrelevant. He still had to send a telegram to Victor, but he wanted to see Lily first. He put out his hand to stop Hitch from stepping into the office. Hitch was determined to blow right past him so Roen said, “You’ve seen Fedora this morning?” That stopped the deputy dead in his tracks. “I thought so,” he said. “Ben wants you to meet him at the hotel. I left him with Ridley in her surgery, but he might already be waiting for you at the Butterworth.”
“What the hell is going on?”
Roen summarized what had occurred yesterday afternoon between Fedora and Victorine and then the events of last night. “Ben will give you details. I only wanted you to be headed in the right direction. I’m going home now.” Roen saw it was useless telling Hitch not to call attention to himself. As soon as he’d finished speaking, the deputy took off running.
Lily was applying the ice bag to Fedora’s cheek when Roen arrived home. “Ham was good enough to knock down some icicles so we have ice chips as well,” she told him.
“He probably enjoyed doing it.” Roen hung up his coat and hat. “Where are the children? I didn’t hear the bell.”
“In the front room. We are just getting breakfast under way.”
“Hmm. Fedora, would you be able to start that on your own? I’d like to speak to my wife in private.”
“Of course,” she said, jumping to her feet. She laid the ice bag on the table.
Lily looked at it and sighed. “Well, keep it on your cheek as much as you’re able. I won’t be long.”
Roen nudged Lily down the hall. She slowed outside the door to their workroom but he pressed her on. “Upstairs. Our bedroom.”
She glanced back over her shoulder, a question clearly communicated in the look.
“Privacy only,” he said.
Nodding, she led the way to their bedroom with no more prodding from him. “Are her bags packed?” Lily asked when they were alone. “I hope she felt the weight of her offense. She’s a hateful woman, Roen.”
“Was,” he said. “She was a hateful woman. She’s dead.”
Lily blinked several times and then lowered herself onto the bed. “Dead?”
“Yes.” He leaned back against the door. “We found her in bed.”
“But—but how? Was it the child? Did she give birth prematurely?”
“No. She was murdered.”
Lily’s mouth opened and then snapped shut.
“There was no child, Lily. Victorine wasn’t pregnant.”
“But you saw her. She didn’t hide it. Roen, I made a gown for her that had to make allowances for her pregnancy.”
“Perhaps if you had done the fitting, and not Mrs. Fish, you would have known. The baby was a cushion, perfectly shaped and fitted to make the presence of a developing child look real. Even Ridley did not suspect. Death made the discovery easy.”
“So it was all a lie to get you back.”
“Seems that way.”
“She must have truly loved you.”
“Lily, a little while ago, you called her a hateful woman. Keep that thought. She never loved me. Maybe she allowed herself to believe it, but she played herself false. I don’t know if she was capable of loving anyone but herself.”
“That’s a cruel thing to say, Roen.”
“Is it?”
Lily stood and went to him, took his hands, and held them in hers. “If it’s true, then she was horribly, utterly alone. That’s sad. Terribly sad.” She raised Roen’s hands to her heart. Tears glistened in her eyes and made her lashes damp.
“You have a tender heart, Lily. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have said yes to my mad proposal.”
Her smile was watery as she blinked back tears. “I thought I made a rational, well-conceived decision. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you felt sorry for me. It was pity that allowed me to get a foot in the door.”
She snorted softly and bent her head to his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he whispered against her hair. “It’s good of you to grieve for her. Someone should, and I can’t. Not yet. Maybe never.”
Lily nodded. Her tears dampened the lapel of his jacket. He gave her his handkerchief and she pressed it to her eyes and then crumpled it in one fist as she stepped back. She breathed in, settled herself, and released the breath slowly. She met Roen’s dark eyes.
“Are there suspects?” she asked. The answer was in the shadow that crossed his face. “Oh, no. You’re a suspect, aren’t you? Ben’s lost his mind if he thinks you killed Victorine.”
Roen placed a finger over her lips. “Hush. He doesn’t think I’ve done anything of the kind, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to eliminate me. You’re my alibi, by the way.”
She pushed his finger away. “I should hope so. Where else would you have been?”
“Well, there was a time I would have been on the sofa.”
“One night.”
“See? That’s your tender heart at play again.”
“It wasn’t that tender. You spent time on the floor after that.” Now she put a finger to his lips when he would have spoken. “I suppose Ben will want to speak to me.”
“I don’t know when, but yes.”
“He won’t want to question Lizzie, will he?”
“No. I told him she got into bed with us.”
“Lizzie hasn’t had a bad dream for almost a year. What Victorine did to Fedora was awful but to do it while Lizzie was standing right there was unconscionable.”
“You’re right. It was.”
The space between Lily’s eyebrows narrowed as she pulled a thoughtful frown. “Am I a suspect?”
“No. Anyway, we share the same alibi.”
She challenged that. “How do you know I didn’t leave the house after you fell asleep?”
Roen used his fingers to make furrows in his hair. “Jesus, do you want to be considered a suspect?”
“No. I only thought that Ben might ask.”
“If he does, it will be about me, not you. Victorine was drowned, Lily. She was held under the water in the tub until she had to take a breath and then she drowned.”
Lily’s frown vanished; her face paled. “Oh,” she said on a thread of sound. “That would have required considerable strength.”
“Yes. There is also other evidence that suggests a man did this.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. She would want to know, not because she was ghoulish, but because curiosity came as natural to her as breathing. He could hardly fault her for that since he possessed the same inclination. “There were bruises on her shoulder that more closely match a man’s hands than a woman’s.”
Lily reached up and touched one of her shoulders and drew her fingers across the collarbone to her neck. “I know about bruises like that. So does Ridley. She’s seen them on me.”
Roen took the hand at her neck and drew it toward him. “I wish you had never known that suffering. Not just the bruises. All of it.”
She nodded. “I draw comfort from knowing that in some way it’s led me to you. Or you to me. I don’t excuse Jeremiah for what he did. I don’t have forgiveness for him in that tender heart you think I have, but the pain he inflicted fades when I am with you. I can’t imagine that I would be with you if I hadn’t been with him first.”
“And I like to think we would have found each other regardless.”
The corners of Lily’s mouth turned up. “Yes, well, you keep thinking that.” She stepped into him and raised her lips to his. The kiss was as sweet as it was brief. A knock at the door put an end to it.
The back of Roen’s head thumped softly against the door as he expelled an audible, put-upon sigh. “What is it?”
“The sheriff is downstairs,” said Fedora. “He’s asking to see you and Mrs. Shepard. Clay, Hannah, and Ham all left for school. I’m almost done cleaning up in the kitchen.”
Roen squeezed Lily’s hand. “Leave it for now. Stay with Lizzie and we’ll be right down. Thank you, Fedora.” He regarded Lily below raised eyebrows. “Are you ready?” When she nodded, he released her hand and turned to open the door. He let her go first and followed her to the parlor, where Ben was sitting on the floor engaged in doll play with Lizzie. It was a sight.
Ben shrugged a trifle helplessly as he got to his feet. “She’s the only one who will play dolls with me.”
“Growing up with a sister or two would have cured you of that,” said Roen. “Shall we go in the kitchen?”
Nodding, Ben brushed himself off and let them lead the way. Lily offered him something to drink but he declined. She sat without fussing with the kettle for either Roen or herself. “Does Fedora know?” he asked when Roen took his usual seat at the table.
“No. That is, I haven’t told her. I was just speaking to Lily about it. Why do you ask?”
“I need to question her. I couldn’t ask Hitch to do it. He’s already beside himself that I want to talk with her.”
“You don’t think . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence as Ben was already shaking his head.
“Just being thorough,” said Ben. He looked at Lily. “You understand?” When she nodded, he asked, “So where were you last night?”
She pointed above her. “I went to bed not long after Roen returned from escorting Fedora to the boardinghouse. I was there all night, as was Roen. Lizzie was there for the better part of it, but I swear, Ben, if you ask her about it, I’ll—”
