Page 18 of Trick of Light
“I don’t know. But apparently a Harbortown police officer came to the hospital to question her and she freaked out. She and her husband are trying to move to Canada now. They’re just waiting for their visa to go through.“
Heather frowned, paintbrush forgotten, white droplets dripping onto the grass. “The police are investigating her poisoning?”
“Imara didn’t say what they asked about. It could have been something else, or even just her immigration status. All the Somalis at the hotel are freaking out, even though they have designated refugee status. I might try to see her in town before she moves away.”
“Good idea.” Heather snapped her fingers. “We could also reach out to Detective Chen. Or maybe Luke could do that. They kind of bonded when they were rescuing me and getting shot at and all that.”
Suddenly the to-do list was piling up. “Do you think your mother will let us go now?” Gabby asked.
“You know this is voluntary, right? We’re not prisoners.” Even so, Heather cast a wary look over her shoulder. “I think we can slip away after we clean these brushes.”
But the brushes and the boards and the entire Bloodshot Eyeball café were forgotten as the sound of a siren caught their attention. Then came red lights flashing through the trees along the main road.
“Fire truck? Or Luke?” Heather asked.
“Either way, let’s go!”
They stuck their brushes into the jar of turpentine, closed the paint can, and ran for their bikes. “We can’t borrow your mom’s truck?” Gabby asked as she fastened her helmet.
“Believe me, it’s quicker this way. If we take the truck, we’ll have to run all her errands too, and it’ll take her twenty minutes to explain them all.”
They biked at top speed down the road in the direction the siren and lights had been going. By the time they spotted Luke’s truck pulled over by the side of the road, Gabby’s lungs were on fire and her blood was pumping through her veins. Two more vehicles were parked there too, a yellow fire engine and a dusty Chevette. But she was oblivious to all that as she took in where they were. “Do you think something else happened to Andy?” she panted, filled with alarm at the thought.
“No, it’s not the Highgroves. It’s their neighbor. That German piano teacher, I can never remember her name.”
The house next to the Highgroves’ was perched on a rise, with a long set of wooden steps climbing up the hillside to a covered porch, with the front door so recessed it was barely visible from the road. Its wooden siding probably used to be a bright yellow, but it had faded with time to a surly mustard. With its dark recessed windows, it gave off an unfriendly, don’t-you-dare-try-to-trick-or-treat-here vibe. It seemed like an odd setup for an elderly woman. Maybe that was why students came to her.
The front door opened and a cluster of firefighters emerged carrying a gurney.
Heather drew in a sharp breath. “Another poisoning?”
They watched as the crew awkwardly maneuvered their way down the long stairway. Luke was among the group, holding up one end of the gurney. So was Barnaby, who had apparently become the island’s unofficial paramedic.
Gabby didn’t like feeling like a looky-loo, but on their bikes, there was nowhere to hide. “Are we in the breaking news business now?” she murmured to Heather.
“Who says we’re reporting?” Heather whispered back. “We could have been going for an innocent bike ride and just happened to spot the drama.”
“It’s more than drama.” Gabby sucked in a breath as the crew turned a corner on the stairs and the gurney came into closer view. “They have a sheet covering her face. That means she’s dead.”
9
Barnaby helped the others slide the gurney into the back of Luke’s truck. No sense in calling for a medivac chopper if they were dealing with a deceased person.
And Amelia Burnhauser was most certainly dead. He guessed that she’d been dead for at least a day, maybe longer. A piano student had pounded on her door and gotten no response, which was when Luke had gotten the call.
A moment after that, Luke had called Barnaby, since the volunteer fire department’s only paramedic was off the island. But as soon as Barnaby had seen Amelia sprawled face-down on her kitchen floor in a pool of coagulated blood and vomit, he’d known she was dead.
The firefighters loaded back into their rig and headed out. As they drove off, Barnaby caught sight of Heather and Gabby across the road, each holding a bike and watching the show. Figured they’d be here, like seagulls on fish guts.
He ignored them and helped Luke strap the gurney into place. “Could have been natural causes,” he said. “She was really old.”
“Eighty-two,” Luke said curtly. “And it didn’t look like natural causes. It looked exactly like the other cases.”
Barnaby’s throat tightened. “You’re right, sorry.”
“I’m going to have to call in the Harbortown police.” Luke let out a frustrated groan. “First Denton’s murder, now this. Second suspicious death in one summer. This looks really bad.”
“Let’s see what the autopsy says before we jump to conclusions.”
