Snuffed Out - Tim Myers [3]
Morton’s attention left the body, then his beam of light trailed across the floor. It appeared to me that the potter had been sitting at his wheel and had crashed onto the floor beside it. Aaron had been about my age, somewhere in his thirties, but I’d already lost one childhood friend to a heart attack, so I knew that was a distinct possibility here. As the sheriff examined the cord that ran from the pottery wheel to the outlet, I said, “He is dead, isn’t he?”
“Oh yes, I agree with your diagnosis, Doctor.”
“For how long? Can you tell?”
Morton brushed away my questions as if they were circling gnats. “What? I don’t know, but it’s been a while. Listen, why don’t you wait upstairs? I’ll find you when I’m finished here.”
“Fine by me,” I said as I started out with Esme. The cat was quiet in my grasp, almost nestling inward toward me. Could she sense the presence of death in the room, or was it due more to Heather’s abrupt abandonment?
“Wait a second,” Morton called out as I neared the door. “This is it. It has to be.”
“What did you find?” I asked as I hurried back toward him.
The sheriff shined his light on part of the electrical cord, and I could see that it was so frayed some of the wiring was showing through. Beside it was a puddle of water and a nearly empty bucket. “I’d have to say it was accidental,” the sheriff said. “Looks like he must have knocked the bucket over and the water hit the wire.”
“Then let’s unplug it so I can get the power going,” I said. I didn’t mean to be callous about the whole thing, but I did have a building without electricity.
“Not so fast,” the sheriff said. “I need to get photos of all this first.”
“You said yourself it was an accident.”
Morton said, “You can wait for me to take some pictures first. Hey, where are you going?”
“Upstairs, like you suggested,” I replied. “I’ve got a half-gallon of cherry-chocolate ice cream in my freezer, and if you’re going to take as long as I think you are, it’s going to melt by the time I get the power back on. Can I bring you a bowl?”
Morton shook his head, then as I walked off, he added, “Maybe just a little.”
I carried Esmeralda upstairs, found some kitty litter from her last visit and used an old pan of Belle’s for a litter box. I’d picked up a few extra cans of food at the store for her, just in case she came visiting again. Esme seemed pleased by the prospect of eating, and I wondered if Heather had already fed her. Oh well, one extra meal wouldn’t do much harm. After she was settled in, I got the ice cream out and scooped two bowls of it.
By the time I got back downstairs, Morton was nearly finished with his flash photography. Pearly was standing by the doorway watching intently.
The second he saw me, he reached for one of the bowls. “You’re a scholar and a gentleman, Harrison Black. Thanks, I can surely use this.” He took a bite, then said, “Ice cream is man’s finest hour, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’d have to go with penicillin, but I like the way you think.”
Pearly gestured inside with his spoon. ‘Terrible business, that.”
I nodded, then watched as Morton came out, put his camera down, and took the other bowl out of my hands. Oh well, there was enough for one more serving upstairs, if it didn’t melt by the time I got back to it.
The sheriff took a bite, then said, “I pulled the plug from the outlet, so if you want to reset the breaker, you’ll most likely have power.”
Pearly said, “I’ll do it instantly.” I was kind of hoping he’d forget about his ice cream, but he remembered and took it with him back to the boiler room where the fuse box stood.
Less than a minute later, half the stores in River’s Edge lit up, including At Wick’s End, The New Age, and The Pot Shot in front of us. “That will make taking the rest of the photos easier,” Morton said. “I’ll be here a while, but I’d like to talk to you before I leave.