The Ice Storm Murders Page 13

  "If they can proceed legally, why would they kill Vanessa?"

  "The court would look more favourably on a married couple."

  "I suppose. Hamish as a motive for murder. How horrible. Someone has a twisted mind."

  A spasm of pain passed over David's face.

  "What is it? Are you getting some discomfort?"

  "The thought of not being a father to those kids, Anne. It's all I ever wanted. Because my dad wasn't involved with me until I was a teen, I missed a family life. My mother married, but my step-father didn't like me, and I came to live with my dad when I was fourteen. I don't want that for Hamish and Olivia. I look after Nicholas, but he's almost a grown man. He lived with us sometimes when he was younger, but mostly with his mother. Neither Hamish nor Olivia have mothers. I hoped to give them one."

  "You'll be successful, I'm sure. After all, you're their brother, and I'm sure you'll meet someone who will love the children."

  "Trevor is their uncle."

  "Carmel is mentally ill."

  Carmel. A twisted, broken mind. But she seemed so fragile and so weak, not a planner. Anne couldn't see hers as the brain behind the poisonings and that vicious attack on Vanessa.

  David drifted back to sleep, leaving Anne alone with her thoughts. A family life. That's what she would give up if she said no to Thomas. He loved her, but would he stay with her if she didn't marry him? He had a conventional family life with his first wife and his children and his mother, and he wanted her to be part of his life now. Although being a part-time CIA agent or asset was hardly conventional. And why was she saying no after all? Politics? Was she going to let a temporary aberration in the USA keep her from being with the man she loved? And he said they could live anywhere. Perhaps a few months a year in Vermont would be okay.

  She had friends there, and Vermont was more like Canada than other places. He had a condo in New York, and that, too, would be exciting. And she would be with Thomas, who loved her. And his family, most of them, had come around to accepting her since the grandmother died. And she loved his grandchildren, and they would be the children she never had.

  Why was she so stubborn? Later, when David recovered, she would tell Thomas that she wanted to make a life with him. Later, when they weren't boxed up with a killer. She glanced out the window. Still snowing. Was this intolerable weekend ever going to end?

  She jerked upright when the doorknob moved.

  "Who is it?"

  No one answered.

  She listened at the door for a moment and sat down to read, but her heart pounded. She got up to wander the room again, hurrying to the bedside when David spoke to her.

  "Anne."

  He sat up in bed and rubbed his face with his hands as though wiping away a veil. His blue eyes gazed back at her from his now ruddy face; the shadows were gone.

  "How are you?"

  "Fine, I think. As though I had a great sleep. How long have I been out?"

  "Just an hour this time."

  "What happened to me? Did you say opioid?"

  "Yes, someone fed you opioid."

  Shock but no guilt flashed across his face. His eyes rounded and he tilted his head to one side. "Narcotic?"

  "Yes."

  "But why? But who?"

  His confusion was genuine, Anne thought. "We don't know. Who would want both you and Vanessa gone? Who inherits from you?"

  "The children and Vanessa."

  "Vanessa by name in your will?"

  His forehead wrinkled in a frown, and his mouth drew into a thin, hard line. He was quick, Anne thought.

  "Yes. I was going to change it after we were married to say "my wife, Vanessa McKnight", but as of right now it reads Vanessa Donland."

  "Who inherits from her?"

  "I have no idea. Vanessa said she didn't need a will, that she had nothing to leave."

  "You have to make a will right now."

  "No lawyers here."

  "A holographic one will stand until this horror is over."

  "Can you hand me some paper from the desk?"

  She opened the roll-top desk in the corner near the window, took a few pieces of letter-sized bond from a stack and a pen, and brought them to him.

  "I think you should include provision for the guardianship of the children. It may be that one or more of these people want Hamish and the money that comes with him."

  "My God. You think that's the motive?"

  "We have to consider it."

  "Can you bring me something to write on? There's an atlas on the shelf."

  Anne found the blue National Geographic atlas and laid it across David's knees.

  He wrote steadily for fifteen minutes. When he finished, he sighed. "For the time this will is in effect, I've made you and Thomas and my personal lawyer the guardians and the trustees for Hamish, Olivia and Nicholas. I left everything to them and Nicholas in equal shares. They get their shares in turn when they reach twenty-five and generous support before that. I left some money to Eloise. Is that okay with you?"

  Anne raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was there no one closer to him?

  "I'm not sure we are the correct people for the long term, but for this weekend, that should work, since you've included the lawyer. What about witnesses? Whom do you want?"

  "Trevor and Mike."

  "I'll find them later. I'm going to the playroom to ask Eloise to sit with you for a little. I don't want to leave you here for very long."

  "Where's Thomas?"

  Anne stood with her hand on the doorknob to answer. "Wood-gathering with Mike."

  "Right. Lock the door behind you, will you?" David said.

  He fished his key ring out of his pocket and tossed it to her.

  "Of course."

  Anne walked down the hall to the children's room, knocked, and went in. The children both slept, Hamish in his crib, hugging his stuffed elephant, Olivia, her blanket clutched in her hand. Eloise smiled at her from the rocking chair.

  "I think David would like to see you," Anne said.

  Eloise's face glowed with her delighted smile. "I'll go now if you can stay with the children?"

  "Of course," Anne said and slipped into the rocking chair drawn up beside the crib.

  Hamish slept with his bottom in the air. Across the room, Olivia stirred in her bed, rolled over, and took a tighter hold on her blanket.

  Eloise turned on the intercom and tip-toed out of the room and down the hall. She tapped on David's door.

  "Who is it?"

  "Eloise."

  "Just a moment."

  David crawled out of bed, stood up, wobbled, and walked over to the door and unlocked it. "Come in."

  He teetered, and she tucked under his arm to support him back to bed.

  "Lock the door," he said.

  "Certainly, but why?"

  She clicked the lock and sat beside him in the armchair Anne left by the bed.

  "Are the children alone?"

  "No, no. Anne is with them for a few minutes."

  "Someone tried to kill me."

  Her dark eyes rounded, and fear erased her happy smile. "What? Why?"

  "Anne thinks someone wants to eliminate people who might claim Hamish and his trust money."

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she grasped his hand where it lay on the blue bedspread. His fingers closed over hers, and a wave of longing flooded her heart. She took a long breath. "Do you know who? Or do Anne and Thomas?"

  "They suspect everyone, I think. Even me.”

  "And me. I would adopt the children in a heartbeat, but I love them. I wouldn't deprive them of you. And why would you poison yourself?"

  "Throw them off the track, I suppose."

  She shook her head. How could he think that about himself? He was such a good man. "You've been reading too many mysteries. People don't poison themselves in real life. It's too risky. I'm sure they don't suspect you. But me—"

  "No one who knows you would think you would kill anything. You're the most loving pe
rson I know. I'm sorry that Vanessa treated you so badly. Do you know—"

  His voice broke, and he turned away his face.

  "Know what?"

  "It seems she was my half-sister."

  His half-sister. He must be sick with shame. His eyes held tears when he looked at her again and pleaded for understanding. She squeezed his fingers and nodded. "How awful for you."

  "It makes me feel as though I'd committed incest."

  He would take the blame on himself rather than on that witch. She fought to control her anger. David didn't need her rage; he needed her understanding. "Unknowingly."

  They sat with their hands clasped together as the faint light from the window faded. Shadows deepened and soon a narrow pool of yellow light from the oil lamp at the bedside, isolated them from the darkness, surrounding them with safety.

  She loved him so much. What would he say; what would he do, if she were to tell him? Could she ever tell him or would he think that she, too, wanted his money? Presently, David slept, and she leaned back in her chair and watched the slight movements of his chest.

  The faint sounds of a child whispering came over the monitor. Eloise slipped away, setting the lock in the doorknob behind her.

  When Eloise returned, Anne went down to the kitchen where she stoked the fire in the wood stove and put a kettle of snow, left for her by one of the men, on the burner to melt. Ice on the window darkened the room, and the supply of oil for the lamps was running low. Quite a store of batteries in the pantry, she thought, some for the larger lanterns that should last until the power came on and they escaped from here. What of their decision to investigate? Were they getting anywhere?

  She created a list of the suspects in her mind but stumbled over the question on motive. Hamish, either because someone wanted a child or because someone wanted a trust fund could be one. Revolting.

  What about hate? Who would hate Vanessa and David that much? Karen's family? Brad or Andrea or Beth? Somehow she couldn't see them as having that much rage. Andrea was a foolish and impetuous drunk but basically loved Hamish.

  Brad, now. Perhaps he was greedy for money? Perhaps he was broke and this was the only way out? And Beth? She and Kevin appeared to be stable and sensible, but she knew nothing about their finances or their desire or ability to have children for that matter.

  Mike and Thomas came in, interrupting her thoughts. She told Mike that David wanted him to witness a document.

  "Why me?"

  "That's what he wants. Trevor as well. Finish your tea and come up. I'll tell Trevor."

  She tapped at Trevor's door and she explained what David wanted.

  "I'll be right there."

  When she unlocked the door to David's room, his eyes popped open, and a spasm of fear crossed his face. His fists curled where they lay on the blanket.

  “It’s Anne, David."

  His hands relaxed, and he closed his eyes again. "Eloise was here."

  She heard the longing in his voice.

  "I know. I stayed with the children."

  "I didn't tell her how I felt."

  "Do you know how you feel?"

  He turned anxious eyes towards her."I think so."

  "Not rebound?"

  "No, I think I've loved her a long time but Vanessa—the glamour, the...seduction..."

  "Perhaps you should give it a little time?"

  "I've known her a long time, Anne. I don't want to lose her."

  He shook his head and took a long breath. "Did you find Trevor and Mike?"

  "They're coming."

  Anne brought the atlas back to David, who placed the document, with only the signature page revealed, for both men to sign.

  When they came in, David showed them the document, and first, he signed and then they did. Only Mike asked a question.

  "What—"

  "Business," David said.

  The two men left Anne and David alone. When he opened his mouth to speak, Anne put her finger to her lips and opened the door. Trevor lingered in the hallway.

  "Was there something?" she said.

  He flushed and stammered his answer. "No, no. Just tying my shoe."

  He trotted off down the hall to his own room. Anne came back to the bedside.

  "What do you want to do with it?" she said.

  "Lock it in the desk. When I can get up, I'll put it in the safe."

  "Let me scan it first."

  She used a scanning app on her phone and saved the will. When the internet returned, she would send it to David.

  He handed her a key from his bedside table, and she put the will in the middle of a stack of business papers and told him what she had done.

  "Are you going to tell them?"

  "Yes, at dinner."

  "I hope that takes a target off your back."

  "It might put one on yours."

  Anne shuddered. Not again. But this had to be done to protect the children.

  She returned to the kitchen for some tea to carry to Carmel.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Back in the kitchen, Anne boiled the kettle again and made yet another pot of tea. She added water and coffee to the white percolator. When the men came in, brushing the snow off their clothes, the table was set with mugs, milk, and sugar.

  Someone that worked for David was a baker, Anne thought, as she placed homemade blueberry muffins and ginger crackle cookies on a china plate. The pattern of old-fashioned pink roses on the gold-rimmed china, similar to one her mother had used, matched the mug she'd carried up to Carmel.

  Thomas, his dark hair damp from the snow, pushed up the sleeves of his navy sweater and sat. "How are all your patients," he asked, reaching for a muffin.

  "Hamish is okay between bouts of coughing, as long as we keep up his inhalers. Fortunately, Eloise got an extra refill when they came up here. Andrea is not as well. I gave her an oral antibiotic, but she needs intravenous, I think. Carmel's holding her own, but it's only a matter of time before she slips into a coma. She drank a cup of tea with milk and ate half of a cracker, but that's far from enough."

  "And David?”

  "Awake. I'm letting him up for dinner. But I need to get them all out of here. Andrea may deteriorate, and Carmel is in a dangerous state. I'm surprised there's no satellite phone here."

  "There is," said Mike, "But no charge and the battery is an odd one."

  He slathered butter on his third muffin and scarfed it down. Worked hard and ate to match, Anne thought.

  "No one here was ever a ham radio buff, I suppose," Thomas said.

  "The old man was."

  "Cooper?"

  "No, the guy who built this place and sold it to Cooper."

  "I thought Copper built it," said Thomas.

  "Naw. Cooper renovated it and added all the geegaws and extra bathrooms, but old man Stanley built it in the thirties."

  "And he was a ham radio operator."

  "Had a license and used to talk to folks all over."

  "But why would it still be here?" Anne said.

  "He left a bunch of stuff in the attic, and when they renovated, they pulled it all out. Cooper wasn't here, and when they finished, I loaded it back in. Bunch of junk, mostly."

  "Could we search?" said Thomas.

  "Why not? After we finish these muffins. That Cassie sure can bake."

  "Cassie's the cook here?" said Anne.

  "Ya. She's a crackerjack."

  Later, Anne cleared up while the men searched the attic. Another meal coming. Every time she came up here, she ended up in the kitchen. Containers of pasta sauce were stacked in one corner. That would do.

  After a cursory knock, Beth strode into her mother's room. Why give him a head's up? Kevin followed her in. Her mother lay propped up on pillows, her breathing coming in rapid shallow gasps, her lips tinged with blue. But she was so ill. When did this happen?

  Beth stood over her brother, her arms folded tight against her chest. "How long has she been like this?"

  Brad didn't look a
t her but kept his eyes on his mother. "Not long. Anne is treating her for pneumonia."

  "What with?"

  "What with? Why? What they treat pneumonia with. A shot of something. Antibiotic, I think, and her puffers."

  "What puffers?"

  His mouth hardened to a thin line. "What the hell, Beth? Do you never ask her about her health, about who she sees, and what she takes?"

  "Why would I? She doesn't remember."

  Andrea opened her eyes and stared at Beth. "Yes, I—"

  "Don't talk, Mom. Wait until you're better."

  "I want to talk to you," Beth said to Brad, tugging at his arm.

  He shook her off. "Keep your hands to yourself."

  He walked away from the bedside and stood in the window.

  "Too close—"

  "Her hearing's poor. What do you want?"

  "We have to commit her to a facility before she kills herself or someone else. Does she still drive?"

  "Christ, Beth. She may not survive this. Can't we talk about this when we're back in the city? What's the matter with you?"

  His face, dark with rage, hovered over her. She stepped back, glancing at the bed where Kevin was holding her mother's hand and speaking softly to her. He was such a good man, so much better than she was.

  "Nothing. I don't want Mom to die, and I want her to find help for her addiction."

  "Is that all you can think about? Her addiction, her alcoholism, her obsession with Hamish. You never stop."

  "And all you have done is nothing, and it's come to this."

  Beth stared into her brother's eyes, mirrors for her own.

  "Could you two pipe down," Kevin said.

  He stood up and took Beth's hand. "We should go. Your mom's exhausted and needs to sleep."

  "Don't come back unless you want to support her."

  She whirled to confront her brother. "I—"

  "Not now, Beth," said Kevin. He closed the door behind them.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Anne tapped on Andrea's door and walked in. In his chair beside the fire, Brad shook his bovine head. His red-rimmed eyes over swollen cheeks entreated Anne. "She's no better. What can we do?"