Murder in Death's Door County (9 page)

“No, not for you. Well, partly for you,
but mostly for the stiff in the tub,” Kitty jerked her thumb towards Harry.
Despite the situation, I almost laughed. Kitty had such an original way of
sidestepping unnecessary sentiment. Her practical outlook showed a woman who
had a lot of life experience. Compared with my maudlin family, who tore out
their hair about everything, I found it refreshing.

I saw Donovan gently steer some of the
onlookers out of the bathroom and into the hallway, including the newlyweds. I
heard snatches of their conversations.

“Did you see the naked man in the
bathtub?”

“Did that girl who fainted know him?”

“Yes. I don’t know.”

“You know, she stopped by our room...”
Straining to hear the rest over the drums beating in my head proved futile.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” the young
police officer asked, worry creasing his brow. He had a Polish look, very fair
hair and skin, with clear blue eyes. With his beefy build, I guessed he had
probably been a linebacker on his high school football team.

I let out a huge sigh, “Yes, officer, I’m
fine. A bit embarrassed and wet, but fine.”

“Good. Good. I was just asking for your
name, miss?”

“My name? Oh, right. I’m Annie Malone,
er, Joanna Malone.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake. Sheepishly, he shook
my hand. I saw that his nametag said “Michaels.”

“Gosh, you aren’t making this easy on
me.”

“Yeah. Wait, what?” I put my head in my
hands. When I looked up again, Officer Michaels, was looking at me warily. He
rubbed his left hand over the side of face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like
that, officer? What’s wrong?”

To his credit, the very fair-skinned officer
blushed straight up to his hairline. He said, “I’m sorry, Annie. It’s just
standard procedure, but when you are the person who discovers a body… We, ah,
well, we have to take you in for questioning.”

Kitty looked as stunned as I felt.

My voice rose with alarm, “What? Why on
earth would you think I killed my editor? I have a vested interested to NOT
kill my editor.”

“I’d better advise you of your rights.”

“I’m being arrested?”

“No, but you are making quite a
commotion. You might implicate yourself by accident. You need to get a hold of
yourself and calm down. This is just standard procedure.”

“Implicate myself by accident?” I stood
up just to stomp my feet in frustration. Of all the asinine things I’d ever
heard.

In the most melodramatic fashion I
could, I held out my wrists with a bit of a flourish and said in dramatic, accented
tones, “Very well, take me in.”

“Seriously, Johnny. Why do you need to
take Annie in? Can’t you tell she’s not the murdering type?” Kitty asked, quite
reasonably in my somewhat biased opinion.

“Miss, put your wrists down. You are
NOT, I repeat NOT, being arrested. And Kitty, with all due respect, I have
orders to bring in the person who found the body. We do need you to come in and
make a statement. Here’s my card. We’ll need to see you before the end of the
day.”

“Oh.” My voice sounded small as I
realized the enormity of everything.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Kitty,”
said Officer Michaels as he left. “We’ll be in touch. Sorry your regulars will
have to miss your Packer Sunday football party.”

“Sure. Don’t mention it,” Kitty said as
she waved to him. She didn’t look that upset about closing down the bar and
restaurant for a couple of days. Considering that she was typically open seven
days a week, I figured she was glad for some time off, even if it was because
of Harry’s murder. Plus, she still had a few other paying guests in the inn.

A few minutes later, the paramedics
finally came. They prepped the body for transport. One of the guys asked Kitty
if I needed a mild sedative.

“I’m not sure. Let me see if I can find
something downstairs first. I’ll be right back,” and with that, Kitty left the
room.

Which left me alone with Harry, the
EMTs, and my shock. My shock wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I sank back to
the floor and started to rock back and forth, hugging myself. In a pinched
voice, I heard myself ask, “How come there isn’t that much blood around?”

The paramedic explained that most of the
blood went down the drain, which didn’t help my shock at all.

When Donovan came back into the
bathroom, he took one look at my pale face and dragged me downstairs. Well,
based on how I felt, I can only assume that my face was pale. All I know is
this, when he looked at me, he blanched a little himself.

“Where are we going?”

“The bar.”

“The bar? It’s only ten in the morning!”

“Pretend it’s brunch and I’m making you
a variation on a Bloody Mary, okay?” He added, “I think you need something a
little stronger than soda. Do you think Kitty has any brandy at the bar?”

Still pulling me, we got to the empty
bar. As a result, you could hear a pin drop.

Being away from Harry’s lifeless body
helped me a lot. I even cracked a little smile as we looked over Kitty's
enormous liquor collection behind the bar, “I'm guessing she does. I think what
she doesn’t have would make a shorter list.”

Donovan turned and smiled at me, “It
seems your shock is fading. How’s your head?”

“It’s been better.”

“Ah! Here it is!” Donovan grabbed a
bottle and moved expertly behind the bar to pour me a snifter of brandy. He
poured a pint of beer for himself.

“Do people know what happened?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

I studied his face, noting that his nose
was healing nicely. He only had a little butterfly bandage over its bridge. I
figured I should probably apologize for my crazy behavior at Janie’s shop. I
opened my mouth to speak.

But he beat me to it, “I’m sorry about
the other day.”

“You? Why are you sorry? You were just
being funny. I yelled at you. In. A. Store.” I took a sip of brandy. Wow, that
went down easy. The drink warmed me completely through (or it could have been
how Donovan looked at me). I felt the color begin to return to my face.

“You were fine. You were just spooked, I
get it. My sister would have done the same thing. Oh, and just to bring
everything out in the open, you did $1600 in damage to my car the other day.”
He looked at me over his beer before he took a long drink.

For a second, I just stared at him,
perplexed. I clenched my teeth and ground out, “Are you kidding me?”

I noticed the teasing twinkle in his eye
the moment before he burst out laughing and said, “Oh my gosh, it is too easy
with you! Nah, you did hardly any damage.”

I started laughing too. Then I
remembered Harry’s corpse and stopped abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Donovan asked.

“I was just thinking about Harry and
thought maybe I shouldn’t be laughing. What with everything going on upstairs
and all.”

Donovan seemed to sober up a bit, too. “How
well did you know him?”

“He was my editor.”

“Oh, have you written a book?”

“A couple. I’m a ghostwriter for a vanity
publishing house, so it isn’t nearly as glamorous as it sounds. But this
particular gig was really good.” I frowned a little in thought.

“If it was so good, why are you making
that face?”

“Well, my gut has been bugging me since
I accepted this gig. And this mysterious death just makes me even more edgy.”

“Oh, by the way,” Donovan made the “hold
on a second” motion with his finger and walked over to his charcoal grey sports
jacket. He pulled a white envelope out of the pocket and brought it to me. “I believe
this is yours.”

Donovan handed me an envelope that
simply said, “Annie Malone, Bonus.”

“My five thousand dollars! Oh, thank you
so much! Where did you get it?”

“Sure, no problem. I don’t like to
divulge my methods. Is that your normal pay?” He sounded impressed.

“Oh no. Between the higher-than-normal
pay and now Harry’s murder… I don’t know what to make of this project. My guts are
getting so tied up. This project just feels off.”

Still thinking about his Houdini tactics
in getting my bonus, I figured he must have slipped into Harry’s room while
everyone was busy in the bathroom. I wondered if he had discovered anything
else in Harry’s room. Donovan seemed to have many layers to him. Interesting.
Hey, how did my brandy fill up again?

“I see. May I ask what the book is
about?”

“Sure.” I gave Donovan the Reader’s
Digest version in between sips of brandy. At the mention of Marcos’ name, I
thought I saw a shadow flicker across his face. His eyebrow definitely twitched
when I mentioned Tina Delvecchio. I made a mental note to ask him about that
later. As I wrapped up the story, the paramedics came downstairs with the body.

“Interesting. So, had you ever met Harry
before?”

Drinking the last of my brandy, I
noticed my hands had stopped shaking. I looked at my face in the mirror behind
the bar. My color had definitely returned.

“Annie, had you met Harry before this
weekend?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. This brandy was
the greatest idea! But to answer your question, no, I had not.”

“I’m sorry that he was killed.”

“Yeah, me too,” I frowned as said this.
Was it my imagination (or the brandy) or was Donovan staring at me really
intently? Why was he so interested in my relationship with Harry? Oh no, I hope
Millicent didn’t spread that stupid rumor about Harry being my lover! Stop it,
Annie! You don’t even know if Donovan thinks like that about you. Caught in my
own thoughts, I put my brandy snifter down more forcefully than I intended.
That seemed to clear my spiraling thoughts a little. With a flourish, I
gestured towards the door.

“And now I should probably get going to
the police.”

“Do you know where it is? Ummm… why don’t
I give you a ride over there? You aren’t really used to drinking much, are you?”

“I’m fine.” Although as I said this, I
stumbled a little, which didn’t really make my case.

“You are that. But you are a little
buzzed. In good conscience, I can’t let you drive there. So, I’m ready whenever
you are.”

“Very well. We might as well go now. There’s
no time like the present. Drive on, Jeeves.”

Before Donovan took me to the station,
he said I had time to change. Leaving my purse and jacket with him, I ran up to
my room and threw on dry, unstained jeans with my Packers long-sleeved t-shirt.

—
–

Fortunately, it was a bit of a drive to
the Door County police station in Sturgeon Bay. During the 25-minute drive, my
buzz wore off completely and Donovan turned on the Packers pregame show. I was
relieved he did; I had always found sports commentaries oddly soothing and I
didn’t really feel like talking. I shut my eyes for most of the drive and just
tried to relax, being lulled by the sports guys doing their thing.

As we approached Sturgeon Bay, I opened
my eyes and started preparing myself mentally. Sturgeon Bay was the biggest
city in the Door County peninsula. Actually, it was the only actual city on the
peninsula. The other communities that dotted the peninsula were towns and
villages. Sturgeon Bay had chain stores and fast food restaurants, a hospital,
regular companies, and movie theaters—and provided many of the civic services
offered to the rest of the peninsula. In my short time on the peninsula, I had
learned it served as a kind of “guardian” to the northern section of the Door
County peninsula.

We drove through downtown and reached
the station. Donovan double-parked in front to let me out. Before I shut the
door, I leaned into the car to thank Donovan for the ride and to find out where
he wanted to pick me up when I finished. However, before I got a word out, he
stopped me and said, “Hey Annie, I’m really sorry, I won’t be able to give you
a ride home.”

“Oh, um, okay. I guess… well, um… are
there cabs up here?”

“No need. Lizzy is going to bring you
back. She’s going to be here in about an hour to pick you up. I texted her
while you were freshening up.” He looked at my worried face and added, “And,
hey, don’t be nervous. I have a feeling everything is going to be just fine.”
Great! He has a feeling, but can’t give me a ride back? I guess I know how he
feels about me now.

“Okay. Well, thanks for the ride here. I’ll
see ya around,” I said before turning around and walking up the path.

Built in the late 1880s, the three-story
square building was red brick with white trim and white columns in front.
Inside, the recently-restored police station had marble floors and beautiful
dark oak trim. I sniffed the air, and smelled lemon wood cleaner, disinfectant,
and cigar smoke. Cigar smoke?

I told the receptionist who I was and
why I was there. In a move right out of Psych Ops, I sat in the waiting room as
the minutes ticked by on the clock above my head. After 20 minutes of waiting,
someone entered the waiting area. Sure enough, it was Officer Michaels. He took
me into a secure area behind a thick metal door. We entered the interrogation
room.