The Unkindest Cut (19 page)

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Authors: Honor Hartman

BOOK: The Unkindest Cut
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Relax,
I told myself sternly. Gradually, I slipped into a dreamy state, and finally into sound sleep.
Chapter 20
The next morning I felt fine except for the same stiffness in my back. A hot shower would help that. I felt on my head for the bump I’d had yesterday, but it appeared to have gone down, leaving only a small tender spot in its place. Otherwise my head felt just fine, too, so I wasn’t particularly worried about the possible concussion.
Swinging my feet out of bed and onto the floor, I stood up—again, no problems. I glanced over at Sophie, who was still sound asleep. Then my eyes wandered to the clock. It was a few minutes past eight.
Before getting into the shower, I started the coffee. I wanted some caffeine, and then I wanted some breakfast. To my surprise, I was quite hungry. That had to be a good sign. I smiled as I stepped into the shower.
Twenty minutes later I was out of the shower and dressed, makeup done, sitting on the side of my bed. Sophie had woken while I was in the shower, and now she occupied the bathroom while I sipped at my coffee. I was debating whether to go to Marylou’s room when a light knock sounded on our door.
‘‘Come in,’’ I called, and the door opened.
‘‘Good morning, Emma,’’ Marylou said. She was fully dressed and no doubt ready for breakfast, just as I was. ‘‘How are you feeling?’’
‘‘I’m fine,’’ I said. ‘‘Just a little stiffness when I woke up, but another hot shower helped tremendously.’’ I got up from the bed as I spoke and walked toward Marylou.
‘‘I’m so glad,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘What an awful thing for someone to do.’’ She stood aside for me to pass by, then followed me into the living room.
We sat down on the sofa, and I continued to sip at my coffee.
Marylou regarded me with curiosity. ‘‘Why do you think they did it?’’
I shrugged. ‘‘Who knows? I must have annoyed someone by doing something, I suppose.’’ I laughed. ‘‘My best guess is Veronica Hinkelmeier because of the way I told her off the other day.’’
‘‘Sounds like something she would do,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘She is
such
an unpleasant person.’’
‘‘If it wasn’t Veronica,’’ I mused, ‘‘I’m not sure who it could be. I mean, I’m not running around like Sharon McCone, asking people questions. Otherwise I would consider it a warning from someone.’’
‘‘The murderer?’’ Marylou’s eyes grew round with horror.
‘‘Most likely,’’ I said, ‘‘but who might’ve got the wind up over what I’ve been doing?’’ I shook my head. ‘‘No, I think it’s more likely just a malicious prank.’’
‘‘If that rock had hit your head, or if you had hit your head hard on something when you fell, it could be a lot more serious,’’ Marylou said.
‘‘True,’’ I responded as I began to grapple with the implications of what Marylou had just said. Oddly enough, I hadn’t really thought about the potential seriousness of what had happened to me. What if the rock thrower had intended something more vicious?
‘‘No,’’ I said, ‘‘if whoever threw the rock wanted to hurt me badly, she—or he—would have finished the job once I fell and passed out.’’
‘‘Even so,’’ Marylou said, her face taking on a stubborn cast, ‘‘your injury could be far worse. But, thank the Lord, it wasn’t.’’ She reached over and patted my knee.
‘‘Amen to that,’’ I said, and I meant it.
‘‘What are you going to do about it?’’
‘‘What
can
I do about it?’’ I countered. ‘‘I’ve been thinking about it. I’ll probably mention it to Deputy Ainsworth when I see him, but what can he do about it? I suppose he could ask some questions, try to find possible witnesses, but frankly I don’t think there’s much chance of proving who actually did it.’’
‘‘That’s frustrating,’’ Marylou said. ‘‘I’d really like to find whoever did it and bash
them
over the head with a rock.’’
I had to laugh at that. The thought of gentle, motherly Marylou striking anyone with a rock was funny, to say the least.
‘‘Who are you going to hit over the head?’’ Sophie asked as she walked into the room. As usual, she looked like she had just stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine.
‘‘The person who hurt Emma,’’ Marylou said.
‘‘Good,’’ Sophie replied with an evil grin. ‘‘I’ll help you.’’
‘‘My guardian angels,’’ I said, looking from one to the other. Truth be told, I was touched by their obvious concern for me. If I hadn’t had them with me, I probably would have been far more disturbed by the incident.
‘‘I still say Emma should tell someone about this,’’ Marylou insisted. ‘‘It ought to be reported.’’
‘‘I know,’’ I said gently, ‘‘and I promise you I will talk to Deputy Ainsworth about it when I get a chance.’’
‘‘I think we should just go downstairs and get hold of Veronica,’’ Sophie said. She stood in front of Marylou and me, her arms crossed over her chest. ‘‘Marylou and I will hold her, Emma, and you can punch her.’’
‘‘Oh, right,’’ I said. ‘‘I can just see me taking a swing at her.’’ I shook my head, smiling. ‘‘No thank you.’’
‘‘It was just a thought,’’ Sophie replied, once again offering me that evil grin. ‘‘I tell you what—you and Marylou hold her, and
I’ll
give her a punch or two.’’
‘‘Goodness, you and Marylou are in a bloodthirsty mood this morning,’’ I said, mock-severely.
‘‘One for all, and all for one,’’ Sophie said. Marylou chimed in with a vigorous ‘‘Amen.’’
I got up from the couch and set my coffee cup on a nearby table. ‘‘Well, my dear musketeers, how about some breakfast? If you’re going to punch someone out, you’re going to need something to give you the energy.’’
Laughing, we retrieved our handbags before we headed out the door.
Breakfast was a merry affair. The three of us carried on like high school girls, and it was a wonder someone didn’t come to tell us to hold it down.
The waitress cleared our table and came back with the coffeepot. ‘‘Anything more, ladies?’’ She smiled at us, so evidently we hadn’t been too out of control.
‘‘Not for me, thanks,’’ I said. After three cups, I had hit my limit—at least for now.
Sophie and Marylou also declined. Our waitress smiled again and walked over to another table.
‘‘Time for some bridge, don’t you think?’’ Marylou beamed.
‘‘Of course,’’ Sophie said.
‘‘Let’s go.’’ I got up from my chair and picked up my bag.
As we left the dining room and approached the lobby, I spotted Veronica Hinkelmeier at the front desk. No one else was around. I was struck by an idea as we came nearer the desk.
Veronica hadn’t spotted us yet. I halted and grabbed at Marylou and Sophie.
‘‘What is it?’’ Sophie asked, puzzled.
‘‘I’ve got an idea,’’ I said in an undertone. ‘‘Just play along.’’ They both nodded.
I resumed progress toward the front desk. ‘‘Good morning,’’ I said when the three of us reached it.
Veronica turned slowly from the computer she had been using. ‘‘Good morning.’’ The fake smile of welcome on her face disappeared for a moment; then with an obvious effort, she forced it back. ‘‘Is there something I can do for you, ladies?’’
‘‘Actually, there is,’’ I said, keeping my tone pleasant. ‘‘I need a basket.’’ I stopped and stared at her expectantly.
‘‘A basket?’’ Veronica asked, plainly taken aback.
‘‘Yes, a basket, about this big,’’ I said, sketching the size in the air with my hands.
‘‘We might have something like that,’’ Veronica said, frowning. She was taking few pains to hide her irritation. ‘‘I’ll have to check.’’
‘‘Thank you,’’ I said. Then, leaning forward in a confiding manner, I continued. ‘‘You see, I need something like that to carry a rock in.’’
Veronica stiffened for a split second, and if I hadn’t been watching her carefully, I wouldn’t have seen it. ‘‘A rock?’’ She smiled. ‘‘That’s rather unusual.’’
‘‘Oh, yes,’’ I said, ‘‘and this is an unusual rock. I found it yesterday afternoon while I was out walking on the trail through the woods.’’ I paused a moment for effect. ‘‘You might say it just hit me. That I had to have it, I mean.’’ I smiled sweetly at her.
Once again her body went completely still; then she moved closer to the counter. ‘‘I’m not sure if we can allow you to remove anything from the premises.’’
‘‘Really?’’ Sophie asked. ‘‘That’s a shame, because we wanted to show this rock to one of the deputies.’’
Veronica didn’t respond to that little gambit. She simply stared balefully at Sophie.
‘‘It’s a very interesting rock,’’ Sophie assured her, ‘‘and I’m sure Emma wouldn’t mind paying for it, if you like.’’
‘‘Naturally, I’d be willing to pay for it,’’ I said. ‘‘But of course, if I’m just going to show it to one of the deputies, I suppose I don’t really have to pay for it.’’
‘‘Why would you want to waste their time showing them a stupid rock?’’ The scorn in Veronica’s voice would probably have convinced someone else, but the longer this conversation continued, the more sure I was that Veronica was the rock thrower.
‘‘Because we think they should test it for fingerprints, ’’ Marylou said. ‘‘You know, it’s really amazing these days, how they can get fingerprints from all kinds of surfaces. And it sure would be interesting to see whose fingerprints they can get off that rock.’’
The three of us stood there beaming at her, and she didn’t move for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the counter between us. I noticed a vein throbbing in her forehead, and her breath was just a bit labored.
She raised her eyes to meet mine, and I glimpsed the guilt there. Then she tossed her head and turned away, facing her computer again.
‘‘I don’t have time for this stupidity,’’ she said. ‘‘I have work to do.’’
Sophie stepped closer and rapped on the counter. ‘‘Look at me, Veronica,’’ she said, her tone fierce.
Startled, Veronica turned back toward the counter.
‘‘We know what you did, and you’re just lucky Emma wasn’t badly hurt,’’ Sophie said in a calmer voice. ‘‘If you try anything like that again, I’ll personally beat the crap out of you.’’
‘‘And I’ll help,’’ Marylou said.
I merely smiled.
Veronica said something terribly rude and disappeared through the door behind the counter. She didn’t quite slam it, but it certainly closed firmly.
‘‘That settles that, I guess,’’ Marylou said.
‘‘I think we ought to talk to the owners about her,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘She needs to be fired, and right away.’’
‘‘No, let it go,’’ I said. ‘‘We really can’t prove anything, because I don’t think they really can get fingerprints from rock. I’ll talk to Ainsworth about it at some point, like I said, and leave it up to him.’’
‘‘You’re probably right, but I want her to be punished. ’’ Sophie said.
‘‘Look at it this way,’’ Marylou said with a smile. ‘‘She has to look at herself in the mirror every day. That’s punishment enough.’’ She had raised her voice, and I wondered if Veronica heard her.
‘‘Bridge,’’ I said in a firm tone. ‘‘Let’s play bridge.’’ I headed for the ballroom.
‘‘Before we do that,’’ Marylou said, huffing a little as she caught up with me, ‘‘why don’t we go look at the exhibits? There are people here with all kinds of things for sale, and we might find something fun.’’
‘‘Fine with me,’’ Sophie said.
‘‘I really ought to get some kind of souvenir for Jack and Luke,’’ I said, thinking of my brother and his partner. They were as bridge-mad as Marylou. ‘‘Where are the exhibits?’’
‘‘Down the hall from the ballroom, I think,’’ Sophie said.
We passed the ballroom, already a hive of activity. Farther down the hall there was another large space, and this was, as Sophie said, where the exhibitors were displaying and selling their wares.
Pausing at the threshold, we took a moment to survey the room. There were probably twenty-five or thirty booths, and a number of people were milling about, chatting with exhibitors and examining various items on display.
I spotted a booth with a lot of books, and I headed for that one first. Marylou and Sophie wandered off in the other direction.
‘‘Good morning.’’ An attractive young man smiled at me as I approached the books. His name tag read DAVID.
I returned his greeting.
‘‘Let me know if I can help you with anything,’’ he said.
‘‘Thank you,’’ I responded. ‘‘I will.’’
I could never resist the lure of books, and I spent a happy fifteen minutes or so examining bridge books of all kinds. Books to help me with my bidding, books on defense, books on conventions—book after book on how to play bridge. I found a slim volume on the history of the game, and I perused it a bit more thoroughly.
I had never really read much about the history of bridge, and this book looked like a good resource. It also had a section on the history of playing cards, and after skimming it briefly, I decided I definitely wanted to purchase it.
Then something in this section caught my eye, and I felt a slight tingle of excitement.
Had I just stumbled on a possibly important clue to the identity of the killer?
Chapter 21
After I paid for the books I had chosen, the young man bundled them into a bag with a handle. He thanked me for my purchase, and I smiled back at him.
My thoughts centered on what I had read about the history of playing cards. I needed time, however, to sit down and read the book slowly and carefully. I might be wildly off base, but if I wasn’t, then I might have found a very important clue.
‘‘Emma!’’
Marylou’s voice snapped me out of my brief reverie. She was beckoning from a few booths away, and I walked over to her. Should I say anything to her and Sophie about what I had discovered?
No,
I decided.
Not just yet.
‘‘What have you found?’’ I asked.
‘‘Aren’t these adorable?’’ Marylou pointed to sets of earrings made in the shapes of the four card suits.

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