The Last Stop Page 7

  “A tiny favor. Do you have any vacant rooms?”

  “There’s one.”

  “Is it ready for the next guest?” she asked.

  “The rooms are always kept ready.”

  She held up a finger. “One more question. Do all the rooms have the same setup?”

  He shrugged. “Basic furniture. Tea and coffee making facilities. The usual.”

  Abby clicked her fingers and tried to put her thoughts into order. “Will it be possible for me to have a look inside the room?”

  Markus leaned in and smiled. “Only if you tell me why.”

  “I’m not sure yet.” She’d only had a glimpse inside Bert’s room when Joshua had gone in to search for the medicine, but the mind tended to absorb more information than one could feasibly remember actually seeing.

  “When you figure it out will you tell me then?” Markus asked.

  Abby grinned. “Of course.”

  He drew out a key and signaled for her to follow him. As they walked past the police officer, Markus nodded and offered him a cup of coffee.

  Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and waved her in. “Talk me through it.”

  The room looked exactly like Bert Howington’s room. Abby swept her gaze over all the surfaces and tried to memorize where everything sat. The kettle. The coffee canister. The selection of tea bags and a couple of mugs.

  She peered inside a small basket. “What’s this?”

  “It’s our complimentary basket with a few essentials.” He shrugged. “Hand lotion. Face moisturizer. Things guests might forget to bring with them. We might be a small-town pub but we like to provide extra perks.”

  She switched her attention to everything that looked different. The bed had been made with military precision. She could see the cleanliness but she could also smell it. Bert’s bed hadn’t been made and while the room had looked and smelled clean, Abby remembered noticing a lived-in look about it.

  “Now, are you going to share?” Markus asked.

  Abby smiled. “My mom and I used to play a game. She would set a few objects on a table and ask me to look at them, then she would cover them with a cloth and remove one of the items without me seeing it. After a few minutes, she would remove the cloth and ask me to identify the missing item.”

  Markus grinned. “I used to play that game too. It’s a memory game. I’d set a plate of food in front of Mitch, ask him to cover his eyes. Then I’d wolf it all down and ask him where it had disappeared to.”

  “Yeah, something like that. So, when I have a look inside Bert’s room, I can compare it to this one. I’m hoping to pick up on something that maybe shouldn’t be there, or something missing.”

  “You’re assuming Joshua will give you access to the room. There’s a police officer standing outside now, but I’m guessing he’ll put some crime scene tape up. That is, assuming a crime has been committed.”

  Huffing out a breath, Abby said, “Well, I can cash in my chips. Joshua owes me. By his own admission, I’ve been an asset and quite helpful.” Of course, if push came to shove, she’d find a way to access the room.

  ***

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T go in?” Abby’s fingers curled into the palm of her hands. “You know I can help.”

  “It’s not my call, Abby.” Giving her an apologetic smile, Joshua strode off.

  “Hey, I need to get to my apartment,” Abby called out.

  Joshua raised his hand and waved it. “Sorry. It’ll have to wait.”

  Pending an investigation. Standing at the end of the hallway, Abby tried to see past the broad-shouldered police officer, but he took a step forward and blocked her entire view.

  Abby grumbled. Swinging around, she stomped down the stairs. Okay, so the police had to do their job, but she could help.

  Seeing her, Markus leaned against the counter and asked, “Well?”

  “I have been arbitrarily dismissed.” Abby slumped down on a barstool.

  Markus grumbled.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “It’s that city detective,” Markus said. “I knew he’d be trouble when he waltzed into the bar and everyone took a step back, as if he were Moses parting the waves.”

  “Why did he come? We have a perfectly good police force here.”

  “I think the family insisted.” Markus shifted. “So, what now? You know we’ll help in any way we can.”

  “Thank you, Markus. I think we should wait and see what happens. Joshua is bound to come to his senses and let me take a peek inside the room.”

  Markus drummed his fingers on the counter. “There’s always a way. If they leave the police officer standing guard outside the room, you can use the fire escape ladder to access the room. I’m sure you’ll exercise due diligence and not meddle with possible evidence.”

  Abby’s eyebrows rose. “Ladder?”

  Markus nodded. “We’re only required to have two emergency exits but a couple of years ago we decided to take extra steps and install ladders outside each window.”

  Abby decided now wouldn’t be a good time to tell Markus about her fear of heights. She couldn’t even stand on a chair without feeling wobbly.

  “What about the window?” Abby asked. “It’s bound to be locked.”

  Markus grinned. “No, it’s not. When a room is unoccupied, we leave the window partly open to air out the room. In Bert’s case, the maid left the window open because that’s the way he liked it. I believe it’s still open.”

  “Okay.” Finally, something working in her favor.

  “What time should we rendezvous?” Markus asked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

  “Huh?”

  “I’m thinking we should do it in the dead of night. Sometime around two in the morning.” He brushed his hand across his chin. “No, scratch that. We should do it when the pub is at its busiest. That way, if you make a noise, the police won’t hear you.”

  Abby lowered her gaze and gave the idea some thought. Did she want to tread on Joshua’s toes? What if she got him into trouble? “How about we use it as a backup plan? In case Joshua doesn’t change his mind.”

  Markus looked at her, eyes unblinking. “You don’t like the idea.”

  “Oh… No, I think it’s a splendid plan. And, thank you for suggesting it, but the police have a job to do and I really don’t want to make any waves.” She returned to the dining room where she’d spent most of the morning and found Faith typing away on her laptop. “What are you working on?”

  “The layout for this week’s newspaper.” Faith held her gaze for a moment and then smiled. “Okay, that’s not exactly true. I’m only trying to look busy.”

  “That works for me.”

  “Mitch is the only one run off his feet,” Faith said. “The tourists have been asking for room service all morning.”

  Right on cue, Mitch whizzed by saying, “I’ll be with you shortly.”

  “I guess Hannah is busy too. She’s baking up a storm.” Faith looked at some notes. “Your mom is taking a nap and said to tell you she’s having dinner with one of her neighbors.” Faith reached inside her bag. “If you need a distraction, you could take a look at these. I took the liberty of reading them.”

  “And?”

  Faith gave her a small smile. “They’re all anonymous and they’re all asking for advice.”

  “Huh? Advice? From me?”

  “Yes. In fact, they’re all addressed to Dear Abby.”

  “But we’re not running an advice column.”

  “But we could. In fact, there’s nothing stopping us. You already have a handful of letters. If you write a column, that will encourage other people to write in. If you build it, they will come.”

  Abby scanned through one of the letters. “This person is asking advice about lamingtons. I don’t know the first thing about them.”

  “Yes, you do. They’re yummy and they’re covered in chocolate.”

  “Hang on. Isn’t there some sort of controversy about them?”
>
  “Oh, yes. The Lamington Wars.”

  “Do I want to become involved in them?”

  Faith shrugged. “Why not? It would be fun. You’re still relatively new in town, so you can play that card. You know, the innocent card. And you could remain impartial. Like a referee.”

  “I don’t know.” She set the letter down. “I’ll think about it.”

  Straightening, Faith signaled with her eyes and just to make sure she had Abby’s attention, she nudged her with her foot. “The city detective is leaving.”

  Abby swung around and saw Joshua walking out with the detective. She didn’t see the police officer leave, so she guessed that meant he’d been posted outside the room until further notice.

  Where’s the trust? Abby thought. “I’m going to take Doyle for a walk. If any of the tourists come down, let me know. I won’t go far.”

  “Hang on. I just received a text from Joshua. He’s coming back and wants to talk with you. I’m sending him your new number so he can text you directly.”

  Five minutes later Joshua strode in, his mouth set into a grim line. “Sorry about earlier.”

  Abby prayed he hadn’t been put on a tight leash. It would make her work that much harder. “I need to go upstairs to my apartment. Am I allowed to?”

  “Of course, but don’t ask me to let you inside Bert Howington’s room.”

  “I guess that means you’ve now launched a full-scale investigation.”

  Nodding, he raked his fingers through his hair.

  “You’re not at liberty to say?”

  A group of people walked into the bar. With lunch about to get on its way, she realized she’d been at the pub all morning waiting for something to happen. She suddenly understood why the people of Eden made their own entertainment.

  “Denise Lowe has some connections high up,” he said. “On the one hand, we have to deal with a city detective, but on the other hand, he’s not giving her any preferential treatment so the room is still out of bounds to her.”

  “Apart from the medication you took, did you remove anything else from the room?” Abby asked. When he shook his head, she asked, “Is there anything new you can tell me or maybe confirm something?”

  He nodded. “I can confirm that Bert Howington had been taking beta blockers to slow his heart rate.”

  Frowning, Abby said, “I thought you said the medication was for his blood pressure.”

  “Apparently the blood pressure is lowered by slowing the heart rate. It has something to do with blocking the adrenaline that gets the heart pumping hard. Anyhow, tests have identified a foreign substance in his body.”

  “Yes, you’ve already mentioned that. Do you want me to guess what it is?”

  “Sorry, I’m still processing the last few hours.” He waved his hand. “The preliminary tests show significant traces of digitalis.”

  “I’m confused. Isn’t that used for heart treatments?” Abby asked.

  Joshua shrugged.

  “But the digitalis was in his system,” Abby said, running the fact through her mind. “I’m guessing the significant amounts were enough to affect the medicine he’d been taking.”

  “Yes. It produces a slowing of the heart rate which, if maintained, usually produces a massive heart attack.”

  And Bert Howington had already been taking medication to slow his heart-rate… “How did he ingest the digitalis and why?”

  “That’s what we don’t know. His daughter couldn’t shed any light on the matter. People with health issues sometimes seek alternative forms of treatment without consulting their doctors, but that doesn’t appear to be the case here. She’d been very close to her dad. In fact, despite being married and running her own household, she used to visit him every morning. She hired staff to do the cleaning and cooking and she maintained the household accounts. Basically, she ran his life.”

  “How do you know she’d share information with you?”

  The remark appeared to catch Joshua by surprise.

  “Just saying. If she wanted her dad dead, she would have had the opportunity to meddle. She definitely had the motive.”

  Joshua looked surprised.

  “Oh, come on. I thought the police always suspected the closest relatives first.” Abby tilted her head in thought. “This city detective has you all worked up.”

  “I guess I don’t work well with the suffer-no-fools type. He’s old school and doesn’t give an inch.”

  Abby smiled. “So, we’re still friends?”

  “That depends. Can you keep a low profile?”

  Abby read between the lines. She could snoop around so long as she didn’t involve him directly. “Sure, I can go undercover.”

  “How about taking a back seat on this one?” he asked.

  “You know that’s asking too much. I’ll try but I can’t promise anything. Denise Lowe accused my mom of being a gold-digger. That doesn’t sit well with me.”

  ***

  ABBY HUNTED DOWN DOYLE’S TARTAN winter jacket. After several hours of sitting around waiting for something to happen, she had finally decided to take Doyle for a much-needed walk. Before she strode out of her apartment, she looked out the window.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked down.

  The ground seemed to be a long way down.

  Taking another deep breath, she opened the window and peered out. Holding on tight to the window sill, she leaned out further and managed to see the fire escape ladder attached to the outside wall.

  Gritting her back teeth, she leaned out even further. Sure enough, there were ladders all along the wall next to all the windows.

  She could do this. Yes, she could…

  Downstairs, she found Doyle still curled up by the fireplace. The moment he saw her, he put his little paw over his eye.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  He huffed out a breath and gave her a wag of his tail.

  “Come on. Time to stretch our legs. You’ll have to wear this. Don’t grumble. It’s tartan. It’s very manly. Millions of Scotsmen wear it.”

  In the time she’d been upstairs, the pub had filled up with customers coming in for lunch. The topic of conversation remained focused on Bert’s sudden death. No one had ever died outside The Gloriana, at least, not within the last one hundred years. This launched a debate about what other types of deaths might be included because, apparently, over a hundred years before there had been an incident involving a horse drawn carriage and a man who’d been celebrating striking gold.

  Outside, she rounded the corner and came across Mitch helping to unload boxes from a truck. “Is this the delivery entrance?” Abby asked and looked down the alleyway.

  Mitch nodded. “The kitchen delivery entrance is down the end.”

  And the alleyway was kept secure with a large six-foot steel gate. “Is this gate kept locked all the time?”

  “Sure is.”

  “What about in case of an emergency?”

  “It can be unlocked from the inside.”

  “So, anyone needing to use the fire escape ladder would be able to make a quick getaway,” Abby mused.

  “Are you planning on skipping town without paying your bill?”

  No, Abby thought, she wanted to plot out her break-in. Her legs quivered. The first floor looked to be a long way up. She assumed Mitch would lock the gate when he finished. She also assumed Markus would open it up for her.

  She followed Mitch along the alleyway. Looking up, she asked, “Where’s my window?”

  “The corner.”

  “Oh.” She counted the next two windows and went to stand directly below what had been Bert Howington’s room.

  Mitch came to stand beside her. “What are we looking at?”

  Abby held a finger up, “Hang on.” She answered her cell on the second ring. “Faith.”

  “Your mom wants to connect with you,” Faith said.

  Abby retrieved her other cell phone. Both Doyle and Mitch looked at her. As she answered, she reached for
the bottom of the ladder and pulled it down.

  “Oh, you’re out and about,” her mom said.

  Abby kept the cell phone pointed at herself. “Hi, mom. How was your lunch or was it your dinner?” As she listened, she set her foot on the first rung. The distraction worked a treat. Usually, her thighs quivered with anxiety at the prospect of scaling any heights. She felt a twinge, but nothing to really worry about.

  “Mitch, what’s Abby up to?” her mom demanded.

  “Mom! You can’t put Mitch on the spot.”

  “I’d only be putting him on the spot if he had to lie on your behalf.”

  Mitch grinned. “Abby’s taking Doyle for a walk, Eleanor.”

  Her mom harrumphed. “This looks like an alley.”

  Mitch switched on his charm. “That’s because it is. When I saw Abby, I stopped her for a chat, as one does.”

  “I see,” her mom said. “Abby has enlisted you as a co-conspirator.”

  Chapter Seven

  “THE TOURISTS MUST HAVE ALL gone out the residents’ door. I didn’t see them leave but they’re all at Joyce’s Café,” Abby said as she pushed the door open. “Would you like to catch up with them, mom?” Abby knew she was tempting fate as any one of them could mention something about the police being at the pub, something that would trigger a barrage of questions Abby wouldn’t know how to answer.

  “No, that’s fine. I’d like to spend more time with you, dear.”

  And find out what she’d been up to with Mitch, Abby thought. Well, she had some digging of her own to do. Abby headed straight to a table by the window and sat down to study the menu. Doyle, enjoying the special privilege of being the only dog in town allowed inside the café, made the rounds of the tables to soak up some attention.

  Abby adjusted the cell phone so her mom could see the table with the tourists.

  “I wonder if any of them received cease and desist emails?” Abby asked as she continued to peruse the menu.

  “I’m sure Alice did too,” her mom murmured.

  “Oh?”

  “I caught the tail end of a couple of conversations. She mentioned being strapped for cash and I saw Bert putting his hand over hers as if to reassure her. I think he might have bailed her out.”