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Dead in Bed Page 5
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“I don’t really care about your apology or anyone else’s for that matter. If that is all, then I’ll say goodnight—”
“That’s not all. I was reading through my uncle’s papers today. I only just found out that Randolph was an actor, and that you knew him, but I’m not sure how important you were to him at the time.” Brenda knew she was only stirring up something she had come in to defuse but felt helpless to stop herself.
Ellen turned to regard Brenda silently for a moment before she said, “Randolph and I had a very...close relationship in those days. When he told me he was moving to Sweetfern Harbor I told him it was a huge mistake on his part. He was an actor with real talent but he threw it all away.” For a moment, Brenda saw bitterness behind the actress’s cool demeanor. “He always said he would turn this place into a bed and breakfast. I see that he reached his goal, though for the life of me I don’t know why he would want to demean himself and his talents this way.”
Ellen paused as if waiting for a certain reaction. Brenda was determined not to give her the satisfaction of rising to the bait of such a hateful comment.
Instead, Brenda bit back her harsher words and replied evenly, “This is an honorable business – and a successful one I might add – and he recognized it as such. My uncle did much good around this community and was known as a mentor and benefactor.”
Ellen waved her hand in dismissal of Brenda’s words. “Never mind all of that. The people in a town like this couldn’t possibly understand who he was truly meant to be. I spoke to Edward Graham again today. Once the Seaside Theatre Festival is finished and I’m back in New York I plan to file suit against the Sheffield estate for ownership of this establishment.” Her chuckle bordered on a sneer. “Randolph promised me this house. And I don’t plan to keep it in this sorry state, either. I plan to rehab the whole place and turn it back into a luxury estate for myself.”
“Are you telling me that if you win this lawsuit, and you won’t, that you will live here in Sweetfern Harbor?” Brenda could hardly believe her ears.
“Are you crazy? I don’t plan on living here, but it will make a nice vacation home – perhaps one or two weeks in the summer. Who knows, I may discover what drove Randolph to choose this backwater town over me.”
Brenda shook her head and fought to keep her anger at bay. She felt it seeping upward again, coloring her cheeks, and was powerless to hold her tongue. “You don’t deserve this...this backwater. And you will never get this bed and breakfast, so don’t count on it!”
She turned and swept out the door, slamming it behind her. It wasn’t until she stood in the hall, fuming, that she realized the volume of her voice must have reached through the walls. She heard another soft chuckle through Ellen’s closed door and the click of the lock.
Brenda’s eyes swam with tears of frustration as she returned to her apartment. But she refused to let those tears fall where anyone might see. The stress of the last few days overtook Brenda and as soon as she climbed into her own bed, her tears rolled down her cheeks until she finally turned over and sank into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Five
The Body
The next morning at breakfast, Brenda sat with Phyllis, who noticed her boss was quieter than usual.
“What’s the matter, Brenda?”
Brenda shook her head. “It’s something I have to figure out by myself and I plan to get right on it as soon as our guests leave for their final performance.”
Phyllis gently prodded again but to no avail. She finally patted Brenda’s arm and told her when she was ready to talk about it she would be there for her. The two women sat in the quiet of the morning, gazing at the crystal-clear view of the Atlantic Ocean from the window of the sitting room as they enjoyed their coffee. Neither had a hint of what was to come only moments later when Shawn Quincy burst into the room with his fatal news.
“She’s dead.”
After Brenda had entered the room and found Ellen Teague motionless atop her bed, she ushered the curious actors away, instructed Chester to let no one near the room, and quickly returned to the first floor. As she called 911 from the front desk and told the dispatcher to send an ambulance, she looked across the hall into the sitting room only to see Shawn Quincy sitting in an armchair as Phyllis patted his shoulder soothingly. The actor was expressionless and Brenda supposed he must have been in mild shock.
In a short time, she heard the wail of sirens as they approached the bed and breakfast. Mac Rivers was the first one through the door, and he gave Brenda a quick, worried look as she led him and the paramedic crew up to Ellen’s door. The other actors stood in a group a few feet away in the hallway. Allie and Phyllis remained rooted at the top of the stairs. No one spoke a word. The ambulance crew rushed in behind the detective and Brenda. She watched as the two paramedics quickly checked the actress for vital signs. She had no pulse, no breath, and the body was already cold, so resuscitation would have no effect. The lead paramedic shook her head ruefully.
“I’m calling it in,” she said. She examined the inert body on the bed again. “I’ll get the coroner here.” She turned away to make a phone call.
Brenda watched Mac closely and saw him looking at Ellen’s body and her surroundings with the practiced eye of a detective. She looked around too and several details were immediately apparent. Empty champagne glasses were scattered on the two small bedside tables. It looked as if Ellen finished off the bottle after everyone left her room the night before. There was a belt Brenda recognized from the green satin dressing gown she wore the evening before when they had their unpleasant encounter. The belt dangled loosely from the corner post of the bed. Red marks stood out lividly on the ashen flesh of Ellen’s throat.
“Looks like strangulation,” said Mac. “I’d say that belt could be the weapon. Doesn’t look like hands did it, but of course that’s up to the coroner to decide.”
Brenda nodded in agreement with Mac’s assessment. The overwhelming odor of the bouquets and vases of flowers caused a sickened lurch in the pit of Brenda’s stomach. The windows were shut tight and the air in the room was uncomfortably warm. Brenda itched to open a window but knew she couldn’t touch anything.
Mac continued to walk around the room. He pulled on gloves and fingered a card in a plastic holder sticking out of an especially large vase of red roses. Brenda stepped closer to examine it alongside him.
“Read this,” he said. Brenda saw the words ‘Good Riddance’ on the card. There was no signature.
Mac motioned for another officer who had arrived with him and asked him to put the note in a bag and to gather any other evidence he could find. “Take that vase of roses, too. And the shiny green belt, of course.”
They heard the coroner arrive – in the strange quiet that had descended on the bed and breakfast, Brenda could discern each voice downstairs as Allie ushered him in. The coroner arrived with a photographer assistant who took a number of photographs during the coroner’s examination. It didn’t take long for him to pronounce her dead and to fill out the appropriate paperwork. Not much longer after that, the paramedics brought their gurney to the room and took out an extra sheet to wrap the body for privacy from the prying eyes of the public who had gathered on the sidewalk outside. Brenda watched, half in shock, as Ellen’s body was wheeled out to the ambulance for transportation to the morgue.
Mac touched Brenda’s arm gently and searched her eyes for reassurance.
“Brenda, I need your help. No one is allowed to leave the premises until we have interviewed them all.” Brenda nodded, firmly pushing away the shocking events and vowing to focus on supporting Mac. “Are there other guests here besides the actors?”
Brenda told him of the two regulars. The couple had peeked into the hall during the commotion and their faces had paled when Ellen’s body was taken away. The woman had turned and Brenda had distinctly heard her lose her breakfast. The husband hurriedly closed the door and they had not emerged since.
“The officer will
be dusting for fingerprints and gathering as much evidence as possible. It won’t be the last search in here, so please inform your staff and the other guests that the room is strictly off limits.” Brenda nodded. He walked toward Chester who had not moved from his post in the doorway of his room since the body had been wheeled out of the room. His face was hard to read, but, Brenda reflected, that was no different than it had been since his arrival. “Mr. Boyd, I will begin with you. Let’s go to your room where we can talk in private.”
Chester stepped into his room and Mac followed him as an officer strung yellow crime scene tape across the hallway door to Ellen’s room. Mac was surprised to see that Chester’s room had an interior door with direct access to Ellen’s room. He was satisfied he chose the assistant as his first interviewee. He offered his condolences to Chester and opened with a few easy questions about their stay at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast so far, and the star’s daily routines. Then he got right to the point.
“When did you last see Ellen Teague?”
“I last saw her alive late last night, around eleven o’clock. She had a guest in her room and the three of us drank champagne to celebrate the success of the play. The guest left when Miss Sheffield came to speak with Miss Teague. I left for my room before they spoke. Before I could get into bed I had to get the costumes bundled up for dry-cleaning. Miss Sheffield had arranged for that per Miss Teague’s orders.”
The detective noted that Chester’s face hardly betrayed any emotion. He reflected that perhaps the actress’s assistant was in shock, as often happened to close associates of a murder victim. Mac asked if he knew why the owner of the bed and breakfast came to Ellen’s room so late at night.
“I presume to check if there was anything else Miss Teague needed. We had just returned after the performance. Miss Sheffield has been very good about making sure we are all taken care of.” When asked, Chester told Mac the guest who visited was William Pendleton. “He came in to visit and congratulate her on the performance. They had met before and so were acquainted.”
“That’s all my questions for now. I am very sorry for your loss, but no one is allowed to leave the premises,” said Mac. “I will want to question you again, I’m sure.”
“We’ll all be right here. There is one final performance before we leave town.”
“So the play won’t be canceled in light of her death?” Mac was surprised to hear this.
“Oh, no, the show will go on. That’s how it always is.”
“Who will play Miss Teague’s part?” asked Mac.
“I suppose it will be Bonnie or possibly Anna. Ricky will figure out how to make it all work.” Chester sat on his bed with his hands calmly folded as Mac thanked him and walked out of the room.
Mac walked away shaking his head. He had enjoyed the play but was shocked that the show would go on even after the star’s death. But seeing Chester’s calm demeanor, he didn’t doubt it would. Mac looked for Brenda again and gave her a nod. She stood talking to Phyllis and Allie, but turned to address the actors who stood milling around the second-floor hallway.
“Everyone please go downstairs for a late breakfast. I know this has been a difficult morning, but Detective Rivers will want to speak to each one of you. Please don’t leave the premises until he says it’s all right to do so.”
The cast was subdued and in shock. Brenda studied each face as they passed her. Nothing gave her any ideas of who did this. When she reflected on the strained relationship between Ellen and the other cast members, there was no doubt in her mind that any of them would be relieved to have her gone – but dead? It seemed unthinkable. But the killer was clearly among them. She turned when Mac called to her.
“Who found the body?”
She walked over to where he stood looking through his notes. “Shawn Quincy. He told Phyllis that he went into her room to fetch a script. The door was unlocked and she didn’t answer, so he assumed she was already down at breakfast. But Mac, wouldn’t Chester have heard him knocking?”
“Chester told me he always waited for her to call for him in the mornings. When she was ready for him, she would call for him to enter, but he was never to go in until then.”
Brenda paused, thinking. “Did the coroner determine time of death?”
“That’s the puzzling part. He said he couldn’t give a precise time until after his full examination, but based on the temperature of her body she had been dead for quite a few hours. What happened when you spoke to her last night?”
“I tried to apologize about something I said, but it didn’t go over too well. I was angry and slammed the door on the way out. She locked it. I heard the latch turn.”
Mac stopped and stared at her. “You and Ellen Teague argued last night? What was that all about?”
Brenda held her breath for a moment as she realized this must sound suspicious. “I came to her room after everyone got back, to apologize for an earlier argument I had with her. You have to understand, she said terrible things about my uncle and she still claims the bed and breakfast was meant for her. I lost my temper the first time and came to apologize for my bad behavior, hoping to put it behind us. Instead, she just insisted she would file suit against the estate to get Sheffield Bed and Breakfast.” Brenda looked down, afraid to meet his eyes. “I’m afraid I shouted at her and told her she would never get it. I’m sorry. It was the wrong thing to do.”
Mac decided to store this information in the back of his head for now, but it troubled him. “What’s more important is that we need to find out who unlocked Ellen Teague’s door. If we can answer this question, we’ll be well on our way.” Brenda nodded in relief and agreement and followed him down the stairs. When the detective and owner walked into the dining room, the cast were discussing details of the last performance of “The Rich Game.”
“I know every line,” Chester was saying. “I can be the country estate host, instead of a hostess, freeing up Bonnie to take over Ellen’s part.” Ricky chimed in that he agreed it was the most logical solution. Brenda noticed a curious lack of tears among the actors, though Bonnie sat quietly stirring her mug of tea and not joining in the conversation, despite the favorable new casting decision.
Mac singled out Shawn Quincy and led him away from the table and asked Brenda to join them. They went into the sitting room where they closed the doors in order to speak privately.
“Do you have any idea who may have unlocked Miss Teague’s room sometime early this morning or perhaps last night?”
“I have no idea,” said Shawn. “Every cast member has a key to the room.” Brenda’s head jerked up at this detail, which was news to her. “Ellen told Chester to have keys made for all of us so we would have access in case she was out. If the room was unlocked, we knew that meant someone else had already been in there and it was all right for the rest of us to do the same. I don’t know who went in first.”
Inwardly, Brenda seethed thinking of the lack of concern for safety Ellen Teague had displayed by her actions, to say nothing of her audacity to copy keys without permission. She made a mental note to have the lock changed on that door once the investigation was completed.
After questioning, Shawn stated he had been in his room with his wife all night once they were back at the bed and breakfast.
“Did either of you leave the room at all once you arrived back here?”
“Anna left for maybe twenty minutes to use the Wi-Fi in the lobby. She had to email her agent in New York City,” he said. “She mentioned talking briefly with Allie. I’m sure she will vouch for Anna. I watched TV for a while until she got back. That was around ten o’clock. I remember the time since neither of us was interested in watching the news. We were bushed and decided to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Is there anyone who can vouch for you that you didn’t leave the room while your wife was downstairs?”
The actor looked taken aback momentarily. “Well, no, I was alone until she returned. As I said, I watched TV until she came back.” He g
lanced at Brenda. “Both of us woke up when we heard you and Ellen. We laughed since it was rare that anyone stood up to her like that.” He quickly amended his words. “We didn’t know what was said but it sounded as if you were winning.”
Brenda felt a flush rise to her face. “I apologize for my behavior, and for awakening you.”
Shawn smiled, evidently still savoring the experience of overhearing Ellen’s comeuppance, and waved her apology aside. Mac looked at Brenda’s flushed cheeks. It was unnerving to hear about the argument again. Mac shook his head at the impossible thoughts that came to him. He excused Shawn from the interview and thanked him for his time.
“I guess his words will have to be taken as truth for now,” said Brenda. “There is no one except his wife to say he stayed there all night long. That’s a question to ask the others. Maybe someone saw if anybody left their rooms in the middle of the night.”
“That’s true. We have to take his word for now. And of course we’ll have the fingerprints from Ellen’s room.”
“Yes, but I’m sure he will find mine and the fingerprints of the staff who clean in there. And there will be every cast member’s prints, including Chester’s. Not only were members of the show coming and going for costumes but their scripts and some of the smaller props were in there as well.”
Mac took a breath and held it before letting it escape. “You are right about that. Everyone who has been in that room is a suspect.” He called to Allie who was leaving the desk. She confirmed the alibi Shawn gave for his wife.
“If Shawn heard you when his wife got back upstairs then he couldn’t have done it while she was gone. She obviously was still alive at that point.” Mac paced a few steps, still bothered by his nagging thoughts. He turned to look at Brenda with tension furrowing his brow. “How angry were the two of you to be yelling like that?”
“I told you exactly what happened,” Brenda said. She felt herself shut down. She realized that Mac looked at her as a possible suspect. After all they had gone through, he did not trust her word. The blow she felt in that moment was as if he had physically knocked her to the floor.