Didn't Stand a Chance by L. P. Suzanne Atkinson

Author:L. P. Suzanne Atkinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC 022070 FICTION Mystery/detective - cozy/general, FIC 022040 FICTION Mystery/detective - female sleuths, FIC 022100 FICTION Mystery/detective - amateur sleuth
Publisher: lpsabooks
Published: 2020-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

You People Have Missed the Point

Stella thumps down the stairs from her private apartment. She fiddles with the last couple of buttons on Nick’s shirt she borrowed without permission before she clears the corner leading to the kitchen.

“You dressed up this morning.”

She peers at the shirt. “The plaid called to me from the hanger. I couldn’t help myself, so I helped myself.” She giggles.

Nick chuckles along with her. “I imagine my old flannel shirt is much happier on you. If I make waffles, are you in?”

“Yup. I have time before I’m due at the manor. Want to come with me and visit with Dad?” Nick’s hair falls over one eye when he turns toward her. She melts at the expression of concern reflected.

“Of course, I’ll go. I’d love to talk with Norbert for a few minutes. You need to meet with Del?”

“Yes. Aiden wants me to debrief her and ensure she understands not to discuss our conversations with Opal or Cavelle.”

She opens the fridge to retrieve the juice. “Del’s sure Hester killed Lucy, and perhaps even Leon, but we can’t let her blab her theories to the whole world. Not yet.”

“Not ever, would be my assessment, Stella. Poor Hester. She has social or psychological issues, or whatever, but she’s no psychotic murderer.”

“You’re right of course.” She extends her torso enough to be able to plant a kiss on his temple. “Hester is a weird duck, though, and I, for one, have no clue what ideas flit unharnessed inside her brain.” She shrugs. “Del, on the other hand, is convinced she can read the girl’s mind.”

Harbour Manor never changes—except for the ebb and flow of residents. Stella walks beside Nick until they reach her father’s door. He gives a light tap to the frame before he enters.

As Norbert recognizes Nick, the joy in his voice is unmistakable. An odd mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelms her. She trudges on.

Del’s door is ajar. Stella pushes it open but remains at the entrance. “What’s up, Del?” The old lady is standing at the edge of the bed and sorting through the contents of her upturned purse. She doesn’t turn around.

“I put my wallet inside my purse. I always do.” Stella can hear a tinge of panic mixed with frustration in her voice.

“Let me assist, Del. What’s happened?” Stella sidles into the room and toward the television, which blares an episode of “The Phil Donahue Show.” “May I turn the television off?”

“Come help me find my wallet.” Her curls vibrate. “I always put it in my purse.”

Stella scans the room, and in a matter of seconds locates Del’s wallet perched on the edge of her nightstand. “Here you go.”

Del grabs Stella’s find and stuffs it, along with the other paraphernalia piled on the chenille bedspread, back into her black leather handbag. “Thank God.” She acknowledges Stella for the first time. “I figured someone stole my wallet.”

Her eyes become slits. “The staff in here aren’t reliable. I thought my money was gone for sure. Help me over to my chair, will you?”

Holding Stella’s arm, Del shuffles toward her recliner.

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