Chapter 27 A House Disturbed
The women sat for hours in a cold and humid waiting room that smelled like burned coffee and rubber where the furniture had been overused and the air freshner was wrapping a chemical bow around it all.
Bourbon, thankfully small doses, ran warm through their blood as they waited.
"If they added art," Crystal said looking around. "I think this place would feel a little less dystopian."
"I don't think their concern is making people feel comfortable," Jen replied.
"But make them feel comfortable and they'll talk," Kelsea commented.
Crystal pointed at the younger woman. "Wise."
"Ladies," Officer Craig Peterson's face was less than welcoming, like the atmosphere.
"Hey, you speak English again," Crystal said brightly.
"I bet you cast some kind of voodoo magic to make it happen too," he spit out, his words angry and accusatory.
"Well, I don't have any experience with voodoo," Crystal replied thoughtfully. "But we did use magic."
His pale face reddened. "Maybe you just want to go home. You're taking up space."
They all made a point looking around the empty room where the only other person was being paid to clean.
"I think, officer, that the eleven pm crowd seems to have died down. I bet we're safe." Crystal winked. He glared.
Jen smiled widely. Ursula waved and Kelsea and Tilly held in their laughter.
He grumbled something inaudible and then they were left alone again.
"Think she has enough evidence?"
Jen looked to where Carol sat. Carol nodded.
"She has written communications between them, a video recorded conversation on her phone and she knows details of the murder that they haven't released."
"Think she will be charged?"
"I think she's hoping for a deal in exchange."
"Poor soul. She didn't know what she was getting mixed up in."
Jen made a face that said she did not care whether or not her situationship knew what she was getting herself into as she crossed her arms and threw out the kind of attitude that made her an eight on the 'don't mess with her' scale.
"Are you going to continue seeing her?" Ursula asked.
Jen looked at her and made a humming noise. "That woman used me and I don't care what situation you're in or what kind of money you need. You use someone to make your life easier and put them in danger? Girl, that's the kind of red flag selfish I don't have time for."
"I don't know her situation, but sometimes people make mistakes when they feel like they have no other choice," she replied softly.
"You always have a choice."
"Amen," Tilly said. Then more gently, "But she did come forward and knew it was wrong."
"After a man was murdered!" Jen leaned forward to whisper-yell to Tilly. "That is one hell of a limit."
Tilly nodded quickly. "That's true."
Then out came Chief Theodore Landry followed by a tall, curvy woman with curly strawberry blonde hair that fell to her shoulders, shoulders that looked weighed down and eyes that immediately found Jen with a flash of fear and regret, and maybe something a little more.
All the women watched the silent exchange between her and Jen like they were about to find out pivotal information in a drama finale.
The Chief had her taken to another room, spoke to an officer and handed him a file then walked to where they all sat, now each at attention and on the edge of the uncomfortable seats.
"It's going to be a long night, ladies."
"We'd like to stay," Ursula said.
He took a seat across from them, leaning his elbows on his tall knees, his large hands dangling.
"We need to verify everything Miss Tierney told us. That will take some time, and until then Miss Willow and Miss Tierney will be in our custody."
"What about Cassidy Parker?" Ursula asked, her body was tight, her eyes homed in and held no softness. "If she gets wind of Isla being here," she lifted her hands in anger.
He nodded. "I know the risk. We still have to follow due process."
"And did Isla bargain for her going scott-free?" Jen asked, an edge in her voice.
His eyes swung to her. "No."
"She will be charged then?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. She didn't bargain. I offered it. Turns out she had information on another case."
"Oh," she said and sat back a little. The surprise was felt among the women as they watched Jen carefully.
Then the chief got up, and they did the same. "I need to get back, finish this so we can get your friend home. If she is innocent."
"She is," Tilly said, cutting in before Ursula could. The vehemence in her voice was startling.
When his gaze hit Tilly, the way he looked at her was different. It was like he had been holding something back, trying not to look at her, until she spoke. Something sparked and everyone was again watching a drama unfold. Kelsea bit her lip as Crystal and Jessica tried not to smile.
"I hope so, Miss Nguyen."
He walked away. They watched Tilly watch him.
"Daaaaamn, girl. Someone get her some water because she is hot," Jen snickered.
Tilly blushed and ducked her head as Ursula wrapped her arms around her laughing softly.
"Okay, but what do we do?"
Ursula sighed and said, "You all go to the inn. I'll stay here and wait for Eloise. Once they verify everything they'll arrest Cassidy."
"Think she'll fall for it?"
"Yes," Ursula said without hesitation. And because she needed to believe it for her friend who was still being held.
"She wants that house and once she gets in, Cassidy isn't going anywhere," she said.
The way she said it brought a smile to all of their lips, the kind that has secrets tucked in the corners.
"I love magic," Kelsea said and Tilly hushed her while Crystal ushered them all out of the station giving Ursula a kiss on the cheek before she was left alone in the stale-smelling waiting room of the Salem Police Department, waiting for her person.
She sat down and had a thought, bit her lip and then made a decision.
She pulled Eloise's phone out of her purse and dialed a number hoping she wasn't making a difficult situation worse.
The women went to the inn that sat on the edge of town where they had rented four rooms, which made up the entire first floor.
The Crescent Inn had been established in the early 1900's and was an historical figure in their beloved town.
It was well-known, talked about with love and fond memories by most and while it had once been a testament to victorian architecture, it was slowly coming to terms with its age and the cost of fixing it was becoming a burden that the owners were having a difficult time carrying.
Which was obvious when they arrived to find a sidewalk that had missing bricks and growing weeds, flower boxes that had no bottom, and therefore no flowers, missing balusters along the wide wrap-around porch, and pieces of the old wood gone or needing to be scraped and fully repainted.
The house was a lovely blue, nicknamed The Blueberry House, with white trim that had seen better days long ago.
Inside they found chipped and cracked drywall, more paint needed, age-stained wallpaper that needed a modern breath, and windows needing replacing that would cost a fortune to keep with the historical society standards.
Still, there was something magical in its own comforting way here, and when Mrs. Ling welcomed them with their old fashioned keys and a tray of scones with fresh cream, they all held inside of them a hope that this old house would stay put for a while longer.
Everyone got settled and then reconvened in the parlour that had white wallpaper with pink posies, floral couches that smelled clean but were old, and intricate rugs that they all had seen Mrs. Ling beating outside in the sunshine under the two-hundred year old oak tree many times over the years.
"I swear this place hasn't changed in my thirty-nine years," Jen said looking around with a smile. "I had my eighth birthday party here. A tea party," she remembered fondly, the smile the kind that was formed long ago and kept in the memory box to be dusted off.
"My mom played bridge and had book club here growing up," Kelsea said. "I've never stayed here though. I don't even know if I've been inside before now."
Tilly shook her head. "I've never been here. I've heard of The Blueberry House." She looked around, her eyes touching on crafted details that could use a hand coming back to life. "Oh, maybe we should start up a book club here," she suggested.
"Can the book club be psychological thrillers?" Jen asked.
"Ohh, cozy mysteries," Kelsea suggested.
Crystal walked in with a white mug of tea wearing the classiest cream pajama set and smiled. "Where is Carol?"
They looked around.
"She checked in. We gave her her own room," Tilly said with a furrowed brow. "Maybe she wants some alone time?"
Jen pushed herself up from the floor and set her tea down. "Screw that."
"Jen," Tilly and Kelsea warned.
Jen turned to them and put her hands on her hips. She was wearing a cranberry red satin pajama shorts set that showed off her spectacular legs. "That woman is staring down the barrel of shame. And frankly, we can be a lot. So, I will be a lot of gentle and good as a new friend."
Kelsea and Tilly took on a look of being chastised and looked at each other before Tilly asked Jen, "A gentle and good friend to the woman who tried to ruin our reputation?"
Jen sighed. "The woman just experienced some serious female bonding.
Sisterhood. The kind that binds souls and creates lifelong ride-or-dies.
If we let her into that fold then we have to invite her into our space and give her the chance to experience it all.
Including damn sleepytime tea and scones in a room that looks like American Girl Doll was born from. Plus, she helped us in a big way."
Crystal smiled into her tea.
Tilly smiled wide. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
Jen gave her a sassy look. "You have not."
"I'll be sure to work on that more," she replied and cheersed her mug of tea.