Kiss Me Hello (8 page)

Sara wondered what
hermosa
meant.

“
Jefe
is the biggest boss around,” Spot said. “My biggest contributor, anyway. He donated that sign to my last campaign.” Spot pointed to a banner high over the door: FOR MAYOR, AGUILA HITS THE SPOT.

“I wondered how Aunt Amelia could run Turtledove Hill all by herself,” Sara said.

“All she has to do is cash the checks,” Gracien said. “I’ve been trying to buy the fields outright from her for years, but she won’t hear of it. I sure hope she’s going to be okay.”

“She has a bad infection, but they’re giving her antibiotics. She was sleeping when I got into town yesterday, but I’ll be seeing her soon.”

“Please give her my regards.”

“Thank you, Gracien. I will.”

She couldn’t eat another bite. She fished her wallet out of her bag and left a tip on the counter. Peekie had it right about The Coffee Spot:
Good food and too much of it; horrible coffee and too much of it
.

Spot met her at the register with a paper cup with a lid on it. “A cup of Joe to go,” he said. “Tell Amelia we’re all praying for her.”

“Thank you, Mr. Aguila.”

“Mr. Aguila is that guy.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the cook. “Call me Spot.”

On the sidewalk Sara passed a trash can and tossed the liquid acid masquerading as coffee. She’d get a decent cup at the nursing facility. But then Marnie Sims met her in the lobby with such a stricken look that Sara forgot all about caffeine.

Aunt Amelia was worse. The antibiotics had failed.

Sara sat down beside her aunt’s bed and took her hand. She was so pale, worse than yesterday. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing sounded raspy and uneven. “Has she had sleeping pills again?”

“Nothing today,” Sims said defensively.

“What did the doctor say?”

“Dr. Kasaty has rounds at nine o’clock, three patients. I’ll ask her to step in here first.”

As soon as Sims left the room, Aunt Amelia opened her eyes. “Sara.”

“Oh, Aunt Amelia. I should have come to see you sooner.”

“I would have liked that, dear, but it was impossible. You can’t unring the bell.” She smiled as if she’d told a joke.

It was too sad. Again Sara regretted all the wasted years, time they could have known each other better. “I looked for your reading glasses, but I couldn’t find them.”

“My glasses?” Aunt Amelia frowned.

“Bonnie said you wanted your glasses.”

“Bonnie! She wasn’t after any glasses. Don’t let her go through his things, touch them. She can’t have it!”

“Have what? Whose things?”

Aunt Amelia clenched Sara’s hand. “Promise me,” she said. “Never let them have Turtledove Hill, not until you find them.”

“What do you mean? Find what?”

“You’re the only one who can understand. He’s trapped. I owe him, Sara. Everything’s my fault.”

“Who is trapped, Aunt Amelia? What’s your fault?”

“Promise me, Sara. He
must
rest in peace.”

“Yes, Aunt Amelia, but who is he?” Sara asked. “Who are they?”

“Eleanor.” With a faint sickening groan, Aunt Amelia’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“Help!” Sara ran out into the hall and almost crashed into a petite woman in a white doctor’s coat. Her name tag said Lubov Kasaty, MD. “Dr. Kasaty, it’s my aunt,” Sara said. “I think…” She couldn’t go on.

The doctor pressed Sara’s arm kindly but firmly. She had a hint of a Russian accent. “You can sit there, but don’t get in the way.”

She checked Aunt Amelia’s pulse and called her name. There was no response. The doctor pushed open her eyelids and shined a light in her eyes.

“I need a crash cart, stat!” Dr. Kasaty screamed and she started administering CPR.

It seemed to take forever, but Aunt Amelia finally made a sound, a protesting
mm, mm
. “I won’t,” she said. She reached up and touched Dr. Kasaty’s face. With a sweet smile she said, “Why did you bring me back from the valley? You know I won’t stay.”

Her hand fell to the bed like dead weight as two nurse assistants arrived with the cart.

Sara felt sick to her stomach as the medical people went to work. She closed her eyes and tried to pray while the air filled with the sounds of their efforts. Something changed. She sensed a cruel new emptiness in the room.

Dr. Kasaty’s voice broke as she pronounced time of death.

“I’m so sorry.” Tears filled the doctor’s eyes. “It appears Amelia had a massive heart attack. The infection weakened all her systems, and she just wasn’t strong enough.”

Sara stared past Dr. Kasaty. Aunt Amelia’s mouth was open, but no breath went in or out.
No!
Sara wanted to scream. Death was wrong. It was unfair. Aunt Amelia didn't want to die and she shouldn’t have to.

Everything people said about death being a natural part of life was a lie.

EVEN IN DEATH THERE
was paperwork. Sara shifted in her seat with a backache from the horrible guest chair in Marnie Sims’s office, turning the still-full Styrofoam cup the administrator had given her a half hour ago. It was a bad morning for coffee.

“Ms. Blakemore, did you hear the question?” Sims looked up from the form she was filling out.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said. “It’s just not something I ever considered before. Can I think about it?”

“They like to know as soon as possible. It’s a matter of logistics.”

“Cremation then.” It’s what Sara would want for herself. She had no idea what Aunt Amelia wanted. She signed the papers to release the remains to the mortuary

Out in the car she sat and stared, seeing nothing. Finally she called Bram’s cell. He’d be awake now. Whatever he’d done, she needed to hear his voice.

“Bram, Aunt Amelia died.”

“My god, babe. From a broken ankle?” he said. “How is that possible?”

“She had one of those super infections, and it spread through her whole body and made her weak. I was there in her room. She had a heart attack.”

“When are you coming home?” Bram said.

“I…I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to arrange for a service. I’m named as her next of kin. I met one of her friends yesterday in the village. Maybe she’ll have an idea about what to do. I don’t think Aunt Amelia was religious.” The line was quiet. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, babe. If you’re next of kin, you have to take care of it. What do you need from me?”

“A hug.” It felt good that he asked.

“You got it, babe. Look, I know what we said about space and all that, but I’m coming up right there. Today. Now. I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

“But can you take the time off?”

“I’ll tell them I need family leave. That’s what it’s there for, right?”

“Oh, Bram,” she said with relief. “I do need you.”

As soon as they hung up, a text came in from Bram:
{{hugs}} See u in 5 hrs
.

Sara dropped her phone in her bag, and the splitting headache that had threatened all morning finally erupted. She left the car in the parking lot and walked down to The Book Beak to get some decent caffeine and to tell Peekie about Aunt Amelia.

- 8 -
Skeleton Key

“I
KNEW SOMETHING BAD WAS
coming.” Through tears, Peekie fumbled with cups and spoons and pulled shots for Sara’s latte. “I knew it. I had a bad feeling earlier when you stopped at the rubbish bin.”

“Oh.” Sara felt a flush of embarrassment spread over her face.

“Yes, I saw you toss away Spot’s swill. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“It was the worst coffee I ever tasted. Ever. No exaggeration.”

Peekie dumped two shots of espresso into a cup and started two more. The hiss of steam and the bumps and grinds of the machine were comforting and anchored Sara to reality.

“It was like looking into the past, watching you on Bird Way,” Peekie said. “The morning sunlight made a halo around your hair. You move like she does, and I thought:
there goes Amelia, walking away.
And I knew right then I wouldn’t see her again.” She wiped her tears and focused on the espresso machine.

The bells at the door jingled. Bonnie Norquist entered the shop like a mini whirlwind. She dropped her briefcase on the sofa by the window and headed straight for Sara, her arms spread wide. “You poor thing. I just heard and came to tell Peekie.”

There was no avoiding the hug, but Sara’s whole body went stiff and she twisted out of it as discreetly as she could.

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” Through blotched mascara Bonnie looked at Peekie, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

It was so confusing. Bonnie seemed sincerely broken up, but Aunt Amelia had definitely been afraid of her—or at least put out about something. Then again, Sara didn’t know her aunt like these two did. Even her doctor knew her better. Sara felt cheated out of her share of Aunt Amelia and ridiculous resenting them for it, but she couldn’t help herself.

Peekie handed her the latte. Her headache started to recede with the first swallow.

“I’ll have one of those too,” Bonnie said. “We can sit down and have a nice chat.”

Sitting down for a nice chat with Bonnie wasn’t on Sara’s to-do list, not even at the bottom. “I think I’d like to go back out to the house.”

“I just thought—”

“Bonnie,” Peekie said. “Not now.”

“What not now?” Sara said. “What is it?”

“Well, Turtledove Hill will be yours now, won’t it?” Bonnie said. “I just thought you’d like to know all your options.”

“What?” Like an idiot Sara stared from Bonnie to Peekie and back to Bonnie, astonished.

“Didn’t you know?” Peekie said. “She’s right. I’ve heard Amelia tell Gracien right here in the shop when she refused to sell him the vineyards.”

“He’s wanted to buy Turtledove Hill for years,” Bonnie said. “I’ve presented several very good offers.” She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “Very good.”

Peekie handed Bonnie her coffee. “Amelia always said the place would go to her niece.”

“That’s you,” Bonnie said. “Unless there’s another niece we don’t know about.”

“No,” Sara said. “There’s no one else.”

“Of course you want to collect your thoughts a bit,” Peekie said.

Sara was dazed. “Are you trying to make a real estate sale?” Aunt Amelia was right to be irritated with Bonnie, if this was what she was like.

“I didn’t mean…” She had the decency to turn red with embarrassment. “God, I’m sorry, Sara.”

Peekie came around from behind the counter, a clash of earthy and ethereal. Her calf-length dress with long sleeves and billowing skirt combined with her long red curls and made her look like a heroine in a pre-Raphaelite painting. Or a hippie earth mother.

She linked arms with Sara and walked her to the door. “Why don’t you come back into town later? My night manager takes over at four o’clock. We can have a nice dinner at The Blue Pelican.”

“My husband is coming.”

“Bring him. I’m glad he’ll be here. You don’t want to be alone in that big old house.”

“Peekie,” Sara said. “You don’t believe the stories. That Turtledove Hill is haunted?”

“Ta!” Peekie frowned. “Don’t listen to that Spot,” she said. “His ghost whisperer nonsense is for tourists. I'm sure you’ll feel better when your husband gets here.”

That remained to be seen. But Peekie was right about one thing. Last night Aunt Amelia was alive in the world and would be coming back to her home again. Tonight she was gone forever. The emptiness of the big house would have been too much to bear.