Lettie hurried from the master bedroom as quickly as her shaky legs would carry her. Tears dripped from her cheeks. She needed a tissue, but she didn't want to return to the bedroom. Paper toweling would do, she concluded, as she walked toward the kitchen.
Hearing rapid footsteps coming from the back stairway brought her to the most immediate concern--that of dealing with Sophie and Ingrid. Sophie appeared first closely followed by Ingrid whose face was ashen. Fearing that the older woman would faint, Lettie grabbed Ingrid's ample arm.
"Lettie, are you sure Charlotte's dead?" quizzed a flustered Sophie.
"I checked for a pulse and there wasn't any. Also, the color of her face didn't look like a healthy person to me, and there are traces of vomit near her body." "Sophie, help me get Ingrid into a chair, she doesn't look well, either."
Ingrid had to be at least seventy‑five years old, and this was obviously a severe shock to her. Tears appeared on both cheeks as she began speaking, "I've cleaned for Mrs. Downey for twenty‑five years and have known her all her life. I also cleaned for her dear mother. Mrs. Downey was one of the kindest people I have ever met. She was so young. What could have happened to her?"
Trying to console Ingrid wouldn't be easy, but Lettie and Sophie both offered as much comfort as they could under the circumstances. Lettie, the organizer, hastened to take control of the situation. "Sophie, why don't you make some tea for Ingrid."
"Can't stand the stuff, coffee is my drink of choice. The coffee pot is in the bottom right cabinet next to the sink," Ingrid softly made her wishes known while holding a shaky index finger in the direction of the proper cabinet.
"Sophie, go ahead and make coffee, and give Ingrid whatever else she needs to calm her. You and I both could use some coffee, too."
Sophie got to the task of making the coffee inquiring of Ingrid whenever she needed to locate something.
Lettie continued, "I've called 9-1-1 and reported the death, so an ambulance and the police should be here any minute. Ingrid, is there anyone we can call to come pick you up and drive you home? I think you are far too upset to drive."
Ingrid sat at the island in the center of Charlotte's kitchen. With her head in her hands she kept repeating, "poor Mrs. Downey."
Sophie got a glass from one of the solid cherry kitchen cabinets, immediately filled it with water and ice from the commercial size stainless steel refrigerator. After placing the glass on the island, she said in her most soothing voice, "Drink this while the coffee is brewing and try to be calm. Ingrid had never answered Lettie's question, so Sophie posed it again. "Is there anyone we can call who can come to get you?"
Ingrid mumbled to Sophie to call her daughter. Eliciting the phone number took some time, but Sophie finally reached Lois who promised to pick up her mother as soon as she could.
"Lettie, what do you think happened to Charlotte? When I talked with her this morning, she didn't mention being sick and said that she was going to volunteer at the hospital. If she were sick, she wouldn't go to the hospital, would she? In fact, she hadn't complained of anything since her gallbladder surgery in January."
"I have no idea. I hate to mention this, but one of us needs to call Jeff in Chicago."
"I can't do it," volunteered Sophie. "I know I raised four sons, but I'm not good at conveying bad news. So I elect you. Also, you need to call Amelia and the girls."
"Gee, thanks friend. You know I'm a chicken at this sort of thing. I don't know what I'm going to tell Jeff; after all, she's not officially dead."
"Come on, Lettie, you're stalling. Even if she's in a deep coma, Jeff needs to come home." Lettie dialed the Diplomat Hotel for the second time that evening. She then called Amelia Williams and Sophie's house completing her phone calls just as Sophie was giving Ingrid a cup of coffee and two aspirins.
Sophie knew that aspirin would have no effect on the state of Ingrid's nerves, but it couldn't hurt her either. Anyway, it seemed to coddle her just a bit. Sophie then busied herself with finding cream and sugar for the coffee. She always did housework to keep occupied in times of crisis. Vacuuming was her favorite way of working off stress. In Stafford rumor had it that her floors were the cleanest in town. "
Jeff was distraught and seemed disoriented. He finally got out that he would take the first plane home. I asked if I should call someone to help, and he said it wasn't necessary. Amelia was shocked and was crying, I think. She said she would be right over. Harold answered the phone at your house, and he is telling the girls. I told him we would be home as soon as the police got here and said we could leave."
The sound of sirens in the distance was somewhat comforting to Lettie. Normally that sound would be ominous to her, but tonight she would be relieved when help arrived. Lettie guessed that it had been about ten minutes since she found her friend's lifeless body. Ten minutes seemed like an hour when you're waiting for help, she reflected.
Maybe Charlotte wasn't really dead. Who was she kidding? Lettie had read enough to know that absence of a pulse and a bluish face were not signs of life. But what could have caused her death? Jeff had said she had a headache. Could an apparently healthy fifty-year old have had a stroke or heart attack? If she were being logical, she knew people had died of strokes at even younger ages than fifty. Lettie didn't want to think about someone that near her age dying of natural causes. What alarmed her was that Charlotte had been healthy as a horse except for gallbladder surgery earlier that year. The ringing doorbell brought Lettie out of her private thoughts. Since Sophie had been having a positive influence on Ingrid, she asked her to stay in the kitchen with the older lady. She left the kitchen and headed for the front of the house. Blue lights flashed through the tall windows in the living room as Lettie rushed to open the double doors.
Two men greeted her. One wore the familiar navy blue uniform of the Stafford Police. The other gentleman was a tall, blonde haired man dressed in tan slacks, a blue pinstriped shirt, and a navy blue blazer.
"Detective Mitchell Crawford, Stafford P.D., and this is Sergeant Mallory," announced the tall blonde as he flashed his badge.
Lettie's second shock of the day was standing in the Downey’s doorway. She couldn't believe her eyes; Mitchell Crawford and she had been an item in high school. After high school, they both had gone to college--he to Midwestern University and she to St. Mary's College in South Bend--their romance cooled, and they lost touch. Even though Stafford was a small town by some standards, Lettie hadn't seen Mitch in several years.
"Mitch, I can't believe it. After all these years, here we are meeting like this." Momentarily distracted from the official nature of his visit, Mitchell Crawford's tanned face broke into a big grin. "How are you doing, Lettie?"
Mitch really looked good. He had aged gracefully. She immediately started assessing her appearance. She had been in this outfit since six this morning. Her hand reached to smooth her blonde hair, which was worn, pulled into a bun. Lipstick hadn't touched her lips in hours. On top of everything, she had been crying. Her mascara was probably on her chin by now. When she arrived in the kitchen earlier, she had completely forgotten to get a paper towel to wipe her face.
"Mitch, I can't believe it. We haven't seen each other since our last class reunion." Lettie was now rubbing her cheeks in hopes of removing any traces of errant mascara.
"Here's my handkerchief. Maybe it will help."
Always the gentleman, she thought.
Mitch quickly returned to the serious business Lettie had reported and asked, "Why are you here, Lettie? This house belongs to," he referred to his notebook, "Jeffrey and Charlotte Downey." Lettie related an abbreviated version of the situation, and then said, "I think that Charlotte Downey is dead. I found her lying on the floor beside her bed. I checked for a pulse and there wasn't any I could feel. Also, her face is blue."
"Lettie, you lead the way to the body. Sergeant Mallory will direct the paramedics in here as soon as they arrive, which should be any second. Let's go."
Lettie thought to herself if she had to be in the position of finding a dead person that it was comforting to have Mitch Crawford to help. He had always been an intelligent, calm, logical, and kind human being not to mention handsome to boot. How had she ended up marrying such a jerk as Douglas? Lettie turned and directed Mitch to follow. "She's in the master bedroom."
Mitch hurried into the large room decorated in Laura Ashley style. Lettie decided to remain by the door, because she didn't think she could stand to see her surely dead friend up close and personal again. Avoiding looking directly at the body, she now took the time to view more closely at Charlotte's bedroom. Except for the rumpled bedspread, the room was alarmingly neat.
Lettie's curious nature overcame her reluctance to go into the room, and she entered to do her own investigation.
Tiptoeing so she would not disturb Mitch, Lettie made her way to the bathroom where the stench of vomit greeted her. Cupping her hand and covering her mouth and nose, she peeked in. Since the light was on, she could observe vomit splattered on several surfaces and a towel lying on the vanity which appeared to have been used by her friend in an attempt to clean up the mess. A sudden sadness enveloped Lettie as she envisioned her desperately ill friend trying to clean up.
"What did you say?"
"Tell me why you're here."
Mitch's voice startled her, and she turned ninety degrees, removed her hand, and took a deep breath. "After Charlotte didn't show up for our bridge game, Sophie Lambert and I came over here to see what had happened to her."
"Who's Sophie Lambert?" Mitch asked.
"She's my best friend, a neighbor of Charlotte's and a fellow bridge player."
She resumed telling Mitch the details of how they entered the Downey home. "Since Jeff is out of town, we had to get Ingrid Swenson, Charlotte's cleaning lady, to let us in. While Ingrid and Sophie searched upstairs, I found the body down here."
"Where are your friend Sophie and the cleaning lady, now?"
"They're in the kitchen. I'm afraid Ingrid is a little on the hysterical side and Sophie is trying to calm her."
At that moment, the paramedics came barreling down the hall with Sophie and Sergeant Mallory in the lead. She stopped at the bedroom door and Lettie walked over to be with her while the paramedics attended to their task. Sophie could not see her friend's body because Mitch was bent over it talking to the paramedics.
"Oh, Lettie, I feel so awful." Tears started welling up in Sophie's eyes. "I just can't believe this has happened. She sounded so healthy and happy this morning and now she's dead."
"Don't look in this room it will just upset you more. Why don't you go back to the kitchen and talk with Ingrid. Have a cup of coffee, and I'll be there directly." She turned her face away from Sophie so that she wouldn't see the tears streaking down her own face.
Mitch stepped back and let the paramedics do their job. Certain that nothing could be done for this woman; however, they had to try. He tried to recollect if he knew Charlotte. She looked to be about the same age as he and Lettie.
"Did Charlotte go to SHS?"
Lettie knew he meant Stafford High as any resident would. "No, she went to University High. Her maiden name was Williams. She and her sister own Williams Lumber Company. They inherited the business when their parents died in an airplane accident about fifteen years ago. Their plane took off from Walker County Airport in route to New York. They were going to sail to England from there. Their plane crashed in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and Mr. and Mrs. Williams were killed instantly."
"I remember. It was big news around here."
"Charlotte didn't take an active interest in the business. Her husband, Jeff, is vice president and her sister, Amelia, is president."
"Is Jeff from Stafford?"
"No, he went to college here, though. Charlotte met him in college, but I'm not sure where he calls home."
"By the way, where is Jeff?" "He's on a business trip to Chicago. I called him, and he is getting the next flight home. He sounded terrible."
"How long has he been in Chicago?"
"Oh, he only left this morning."
Over Mitch's shoulder, Lettie could see the paramedics packing up their equipment, and surmised that her first assumption had been correct--Charlotte was dead.
"Detective Crawford, we can't do anything for her. Do you want to call the coroner?"
"I'll call her. Thanks for trying, Andy."
Lettie spoke up and thanked the paramedics, knowing that any efforts to save Charlotte were futile. "I don't mean to alarm you, Lettie, but when someone dies alone and is apparently healthy, the police must treat it as a suspicious death. That means that we will need to question you and your friends among others. Also, we need to keep everything in the house as it was. Why don't you rejoin Sophie and Ingrid in the kitchen and try to remember everything you touched or disturbed."
"You mean, you think there might have been foul play?"
"Not necessarily. Right now, the situation looks routine, but we've just gotten here. I have to radio for more officers. I'll see you in the kitchen later."
Lettie was imagining all sorts of things. What could have happened to her friend who was an apparently healthy, vibrant woman in her middle years? She walked down the hall with its oriental carpets and reflected on all the murder mysteries she had read where a rich person had been murdered for his or her money. Lettie realized that she blew things out of proportion and that Mitch had said this was just routine. From the kitchen doorway, she saw Sophie seated at the island bar with Ingrid, both women with coffee cups in their hands.
"Sophie, we can't leave for a while. Mitch has said that we have to be questioned because this is a suspicious death."
"The only suspicious thing is that our friend who was healthy this morning is dead. I guess at our ages, stranger things could happen. Does this policeman think something looks amiss? By the way, do you know this policeman? You keep calling him, Mitch."
"He's the guy I dated all through high school. I know I've told you about Mitch. It was such a shock to see him at the front door. We haven't seen each other in years."
"I remember you dated someone for a long time, but I didn't remember his name. I'll say one thing, he's really good looking."
Ingrid started crying hysterically interrupting the conversation about Mitch. Lettie was glad. She had fond memories of Mitch and seeing him again had made her question why they had never kept in touch. She wasn't sure what her feelings were about him, but it made her feel better having him there taking care of things.
Sophie patted Ingrid on the hand and told her that her daughter would be along shortly to take her home. This seemed to calm Ingrid somewhat.
"I'm going to call Harold again and let him know that we're going to be here for a while longer. I'll bet he's having a wonderful time entertaining the girls. You know how talkative he is. At least I left food out; that should keep their mouths a little quieter."
While Sophie phoned her husband, Lettie poured herself a cup of coffee and added a liberal amount of cream. She knew that would do wonders for her hips, but one thing she could not stand was milk in her coffee. Since Charlotte insisted on having cream in her tea, Lettie had known she would find the real thing on hand. Charlotte always followed almost to the letter the art of British tea making but made one exception. She refused to use milk in her tea as the English do. Maybe all that cream caused a cholesterol build up and Charlotte had died of a heart attack. Again, Lettie's imagination worked overtime.
"Poor Harold. All the girls are very emotional, and he's trying to console each and every one of them. Passing along the information about suspicious death ought to add fuel to the fire. I told him to microwave more food and to get the girls involved in helping him."
At that moment, Mitch walked in, introduced himself to Sophie and Ingrid.
"Do you have any idea what killed her?" Lettie hastily asked.
"We'll know more after the coroner gets here and examines the body. Do any of you know if she had been ill lately?"
Sophie and Lettie both recounted Charlotte's lack of any physical maladies and told Mitch about the headache she had complained about earlier that day.
"I noticed a half-empty cup on the night stand. It smelled like it contained tea." Sophie blurted out, "Charlotte was a fanatical tea drinker and always had a cup of tea close at hand. She drank custom blended teas and liked exotic blends and actually became quite an expert on teas. Boston Tea Party and Autumn Leaves were favorite places for her to shop, and the stores valued her opinion on their newest blends. Charlotte has many books on teas and loved to serve high tea in the authentic British fashion. High tea served here was quite an experience complete with scones, finger sandwiches, lemon curd, tea cakes and so on."
Noting that Sophie was rambling, Mitch didn't stop her because from his experience he knew people dealt with tragedy in different ways. "Then it would not be unusual for her to have a cup of tea next to her bed?"
"Heavens, no. You would never find a tea cup far from Charlotte," replied Sophie. "In fact, she drank tea from morning until retiring at night. Notice that her teakettle is on the stove right now and her teapot on the counter. She collected teapots and teacups. She always was searching for the perfect cup of tea and thought certain tea pots steeped a better pot than others did. Would you like to see her collection?"
Mitch replied than indeed he would love to see Charlotte's collection at some time in the future, but he had more pressing matters now. "I'll have to ask you ladies to stay in the kitchen until we're ready to question you." Before the women could respond, he excused himself to rejoin his fellow officers. Lettie, feeling reflective, noticed how normal Charlotte's kitchen seemed. Her copper teakettle perched on the burner of the stove, one of the prized stoneware teapots resting on the counter, and a calico print tea cozy atop the teapot. Charlotte always used a tea cozy to keep her teapot warm. She was meticulous in her method of making tea and even refused to use ordinary tap water. Instead she opted to use bottled water imported from France purported to be free of any minerals that might affect the taste of the water and thus the tea.
At that instant, the trio in the kitchen heard a woman shouting and demanding that she be admitted to the residence.
"That will be Ms. Williams," Ingrid spoke in a quivering voice.
Lettie was anxious to meet Amelia Williams after talking to the ice princess on the phone. From everything she had heard, Amelia and her sister did not have similar personalities. She didn't have long to wait to discover this. Mitch ushered in a tall, thin, glamorous blonde woman. Mitch introduced Amelia to the women sequestered in the kitchen and reminded her not to wander around the house but to stay with the others.
Amelia, not feeling very friendly or courteous, chose not to speak to Lettie or Sophie. She did acknowledge Ingrid, but not in a courteous manner. That poor woman, Lettie thought of Ingrid. "Thank goodness someone has made coffee. I could use a cup right now. I don't have the penchant for drinking tea that Char had. Now, what is this nonsense about a suspicious death?"
Lettie explained Mitch's concerns to Amelia and suggested that she takes a seat and wait for his return.
"I've never heard of anything so ridiculous. Charlotte got sick and died. That's all. These things happen."
This woman was as distasteful a person as she had met in a long time, Lettie concluded. She didn't seem to be grieving at all at the loss of her only sibling.
Sophie rolled her eyes back in her head to show her disgust. Sophie had never met Amelia either and had taken an instant dislike to her. Amelia did not travel in Lettie's and Sophie's social circles, but it was common knowledge in Stafford that she was consumed with her career.
Lettie felt terrible for Ingrid. Here Ingrid had taken care of Amelia since she was born and Amelia was ignoring her. If it was all right with Mitch, she should be able to leave as soon as her daughter arrived, Lettie decided. She called him to the kitchen to tell him just that. Mitch agreed that he could question Ingrid the next day and said he would come get her when her daughter arrived.
Lettie poured herself another cup of coffee and sat at the island bar with Sophie and Ingrid. Amelia paced back and forth in the kitchen while drinking her coffee and acting like no other person existed. Mitch reappeared shortly to announce the arrival of Ingrid's daughter. The two friends helped Ingrid to her feet and each took an arm. They slowly walked her down the long, main hallway to the front entrance. Ingrid almost collapsed into her daughter's arms, and didn't even have the strength to introduce Lois to the two women. They understood her plight and said their good-byes.
Lettie then turned her attention to Mitch. Her nerves were on edge, and she asked how long she and Sophie were going to be detained. She could hardly wait to leave.
Mitch assured her that one of the officers would interview them shortly and then they could go. Lettie was beginning to feel the weariness of a long, stressful day. All the excitement of the day coupled with the amount of coffee she had been drinking made Lettie realize sleep might be elusive for at least the next several hours. Also, the girls would be waiting to talk to her and Sophie about the events of the evening. She shuffled back to the kitchen to rejoin her friend and the "bereaved" sister.
The telephone rang and Amelia grabbed the cordless from its base unit. From what Lettie could hear, she surmised Amelia was talking to Jeff about his return trip and in none too pleasant a voice. She replaced the phone, poured herself the last of the coffee, and demanded that Lettie or Sophie make some more.
Sophie immediately jumped up and moved toward the cabinet where she had found the coffee. Lettie knew that Sophie could be easily intimidated, and let her go ahead and make the