Last Licks

For Sunny, the words “coffee shop” evoked loud, crowded places that served quick, cheap eats, with linoleum-topped tables and waitstaffs rushed off their feet. But Bridgewater Hall’s so-called “coffee shop” reminded Sunny of one of those tearooms of yesteryear—a throwback to an age of more gracious living. It was small, just a dozen or so tables, but each one was decked out with a white tablecloth; embroidered banquettes surrounded slightly larger tables; and for the lone or rushed eater, a few tall chairs faced a highly polished mahogany counter.

“Nicer than a lot of the eateries in town,” Sunny said.

“A better bar, too,” Ollie muttered, taking in the lunch counter. “I wonder if I could get a beer here.”

An older woman with permed white hair approached them with some menus. “Is this the Barnstable party? I can seat you here over by the window.” She led the way to a table with a splendid view of the gardens. Will parked Ollie’s wheelchair facing the window, and he and Sunny sat down flanking him.

“Elsa wasn’t kidding,” Sunny said. “It looks lovely out there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ollie griped, already done with small talk. “What kind of progress have you made?”

Sunny was about to protest that they hadn’t had time to do anything yet, but Will jumped in with, “I tracked down Alfred Scatterwell and gave him a call.” This was news to her. “He was definitely not happy to hear that you had doubts about his uncle’s death, but he agreed to speak to us tomorrow morning,” Will reported.

Ollie grunted and turned to Sunny, but she started talking before he could ask any embarrassing questions. “What we really need to hear is what happened this morning. Start from the beginning, and tell us what you saw and heard.”

Before Ollie could start, the permed manageress returned to take their orders. “You’re our first customers of the day,” she said, nodding toward the empty tables around them. “You beat the rush.”

Sunny and Will both ordered the hamburger platter. Their choices arrived quickly, along with Ollie’s lunch. Sunny looked at her boss’s slivers of meat in a reddish sauce. “What is it supposed to be?” she asked, lowering her voice. “Pulled pork?”

“According to the menu I signed off on, it’s turkey tetrazzini.” Ollie unenthusiastically poked at it with his fork. “They give you a lot of choices for each meal, but one always seems to be baked fish. On paper, this looked the least bad.” He raised a forkful to his mouth and began chewing.

“So how is it?” Will arranged the tomato and onion slices on his burger and took a bite.

“Better than yesterday’s Salisbury steak. I guess a lot of the old folks’ teeth probably aren’t up to anything more solid than ground or chopped-up meat. I just wish that they didn’t always seem to have run out of salt in the kitchen.” He watched greedily as Sunny sprinkled salt and pepper on her fries, then dumped a blob of catsup on the side. “I could kill for one of those fries.”

“Are you allowed to have them, though?” Will asked.

Ollie’s expression fell somewhere between annoyed and heartbroken. “They gave me some with the Salisbury steak. Eighteen, to be exact. I counted each one as I ate it.”

Well, the visitors obviously get a more generous portion of French fries. Sunny turned her plate toward Ollie, who reached over to grab a fry—the biggest one, of course—dunked it in the catsup, and then just about inhaled it.

“Well, they don’t stint you on the food,” Will said, not turning his plate to share. “I see green beans, pasta, bread, coffee, milk, and both fruit and Jell-O.”

“Yeah.” Ollie’s eyes followed Will’s burger as he brought it up for another bite. “I’m just a lucky fella.”

“So tell us what happened.” Sunny wanted to get this meeting back on track before Ollie made a grab for her pickle.

“Specifically, why do you think something’s wrong?” Will put in.

“I didn’t want to say it in front of the doctors.” Ollie leaned forward in his wheelchair, his voice low. “They’ll say I was crazy, or dreaming, or blame the pain pills. I’ve been cutting down on them, but I do take one the last thing at night. Makes it easier to sleep.”

“I can understand that,” Will said. “But what did you see?”

“It was more like what I heard.” Ollie shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair. “Somebody was definitely in the room, with Gardner. I don’t know if what I heard woke me up, or if my eyes just popped open, and that’s why I heard it. But I know I woke up all of a sudden, in the dark, and I heard rustling and low voices over by Gardner’s bed.”

“What were they saying?” Sunny asked.