Mid-Story Murder

It was a late January night, cold and kind of cloudy. I was heading over to the Hampton Mansion for a regular book club meeting. Hampton Mansion was a nationally recognized landmark, haunted landmark to be precise. It was built in the 1700's in the Georgian style and was nothing less than amazing.

We weren't meeting there for the ghosts as much as we were for the grandeur and beauty of the place. That and the absolute serenity we found there. Not even in the local library, where we did get the best coffee, were we able to discuss things unaccosted. Tonight things just felt a bit different to me, I couldn't tell you why, but something was crawling up my spine and making my skin crawl.

Everyone was waiting in the lobby, all but Jan. Jan Bolt was one of the longer standing members. That is to say that, once she started on a point, she stood up and kept on for longer than anyone else. No one was at all upset that Jan had not showed up. Yet.

Denise looked like she was having trouble with one of the bags of snacks, so I helped her. It was odd, she never accepted help. She was a proud gal who could handle herself.

“John is in the kitchen getting the coffee and hot water for tea together.” Now that we were all there we headed into the library of the old place. John was wheeling the pots in just ahead of us. We headed to the left and back to the old fireplace. In the glow of the firelight there was something odd. Something was dangling in the shadows just to the side of the sitting area.

Putting the heavy bag of snacks down I stepped forward to see what it was, John and Tim were close behind.

As my eyes adjusted to the light in the room it became clear that we were looking at feet. A woman's feet were hanging at about eye level. I called the police, sent Tim to alert the staff, then John and I stood by with everyone while the police arrived and took over.

What did I get for all this? Arrested … all of us got arrested. There we were, a book club, in a holding tank at the local jail. The guys were in one tank ad across the way the ladies were in another tank. I stood there watching those ladies and listening.

A strong woman with streaks of gray in her hair walked in and looked around. “I'm Detective Lauri Davidson and you nuts in the book club have a murder to explain.” The cells echoed with hoots and applause from the others in the holding tanks. “Unless one of you wants to speak up and save the rest some time here you're all going to want to call you lawyers.” She looked around at us.
Oh, it's gonna be a long night, ladies.”

Looking at me Detective Davidson sauntered over and tauntingly added, “Is there anything you might have to say, bookworm?”

'Like what?” I looked her over from head to toe then looked at her directly, “That your tailor is blind, too?”

“What do you mean 'blind, too'?” she scowled at me.

“I noticed that one pant cuff is hemmed higher than the other. I also see that your glasses are rather thick ...” she cut me off.

“Sergeant, let's start with the wise guy here.” She turned and left.

The interrogation lasted about three hours, why I don't really know. I was returned to the tank with the others who were asleep in some of the most uncomfortable looking positions. The only place for me was a corner on the floor. I was sitting down and getting settled in when I heard the detectives voice again.

“Denise! Come here.”There was no way I could ever see that woman smiling or laughing, it just didn't fit.

“Doc, waddaya think?”

“Hmmmm” there was silence then, “It does look like it could be rope burn. I'd keep her and let the others go home.”

As we were being processed out in the wee hours of the morning Davidson stopped by me. “Thanks for telling me about that bag thing. You know, that her having you carry it was out of the ordinary for her.”