A. Renee Art

Lydia, Merc, and Madeline waited at the inn entrance for Janet, who had the key. Lydia said they couldn’t get into Bernard’s place. The key Merc had, despite being found in Bernard’s locker, went to something else that belonged to him.

“His house key is who knows where,” Merc sighed.

Inside, Janet and the twins relegated what they learned at Dorothy’s place.

“The butler’s left-handed,” Lydia said, exasperated. “For Chrissake I thought we eliminated him.”

“Steve did,” Janet said. “Perhaps it’s someone else who was strong, who had access to tools, but was also left-handed.”

“According to the answering machine, Oliver Gibson had access to tools.”

Connor held up the key to the photo lab.

“But was he left-handed,” Merc asked.

“One way to find out,” Janet said, taking the key. As she headed for the door, Merc offered to go with her. She accepted and told everyone else to stay and lock the door after them, which Lydia did.

She returned to the table to reconvene with the others. Caylix asked what she thought.

“I’m thinking Sofia wanted revenge for Vivian chasing her and her kid away from Painscreek. She sought help from some strong left-handed man who felt sorry for her which, due to her looks, she was able to get.”

“Even after twenty years, you think she could seek help like that,” Connor asked.

“Mrs. Sheldenfield,” Caylix said simply.

“Never mind.”

Mrs. Sheldenfield was a next-door neighbor of theirs and at 45, looked like she had just turned 30. She chalked it up to the fact that she never smoked, ate a balanced diet that was mostly fruits and vegetables with meat three times a week for dinner, sometimes drank a glass of red wine every month or so, drank plenty of water, only had one kid and a job she really loved as an artist. Plus, she went to the gym four times a week for two hours each.

“Isn’t her birthday coming up?”

“Focus,” Lydia grumbled.

“If Sofia did it, what do Andrew Reed and Dr. Johnson have to do with it,” Caylix asked, changing the subject. “Why were they killed?”

“Dr. Johnson was embezzling funds from the hospital, right,” Connor reminded them.

“Yeah,” Lydia began thinking. “Maybe the offshore funds were secretly for Sofia. Maybe she and the doctor had some sort of correspondence, and this was a way to financially get something from the Roberts. Not sure about Andrew Reed’s connection, though. We should go to the hospital tomorrow.”

Janet and Merc returned an hour later. Janet said they turned up nothing. Merc was carrying some tools with him: a shovel, wrench, and a hammer.

“In case we may need them,” he said.

They made plans to go to Painscreek Community Hospital the next day. After dinner, Janet and Lydia went over their notes while Caylix and Merc organized and cleaned up. Madeline was sitting outside talking with Connor at the table they had eaten  lunch at earlier. Merc happened upon them as he was setting aside some trash.

“So you’ve seen something too,” he asked them.

“You too,” Connor asked him. “When?”

“The Roberts’ place. In a locked gated area in the backyard at the end of a path.”

Merc told them what he saw when he, Connor, and Janet were exploring the mansion. In the backyard, Merc found a locked gate going into another area. Far away through the gate, he thought he saw a person in dark clothes, their head obscured by some tree branches. Immediately he felt uneasy. He began moving backwards slowly, but the figure was still there, unmoving. He ran back to Connor at the shed.

“What did you see,” Merc asked Connor.

Connor told of his encounter at Dorothy’s cottage.

“Shit. Well, Maddie?”

Madeline thought back to her own sighting just outside of Andrew’s house. “Tomorrow should yield interesting answers.” She then got up and headed back indoors.

“That’s it?”

“We saw what we saw. Clearly, someone needs our help. Either we’re on the right track…or not…about one of these suspects. Tomorrow. Answers.”

She reentered the inn. The two boys shrugged their shoulders. They were friends with Madeline for a few years. To them, she wasn’t creepy, at least not anymore. Lydia, who knew a thing or two about ancient myths, thought her akin to a sibyl, a woman from ancient times who had the gift of prophesy, but often spoke using cryptic language or riddles instead of saying specific things outright.

Maddie was often right, so the two boys thought it best to ask no more and wait for tomorrow’s answers.

As the teens headed for bed later, Janet looked outside at Steve Moss’s car and pondered the flat tires. She closed and locked the door and barricaded it with a couple of boxes of Da Vinci wine.