The Monarch Graveyard

by James R Nelson

  Phillip pulled up a chair. “Where’s that?”

  “Downstate. Frankenmuth.”

  “You had started to explain to me why you’d been visiting Britt’s monument right before everything happened. You said something about performing a penance. I…I’m not sure what you were trying to tell me.”

  Hilda glanced down at her hands which were folded on top of the sheet. “The penance depends on the sin.” Tears welled in her eyes. “In the case of my brother—”

  Phillip pulled a tissue from a box on her tray and handed it to her. She dried her eyes and continued. “Who took Britt’s life, it’s written that someone from the family, normally the oldest, must stand at the gravesite and pray to God for ten days that the wrongly taken soul is accepted into heaven.”

  “I see,” Phillip replied. “I’m familiar with several religions, but I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of that doctrine. What religion do you follow?”

  She clasped her hands. “My grandfather broke away from the Mennonites. He thought they weren’t strict enough. He formed his own church. We’re a small congregation. Mostly relatives.”

  Phillip nodded. “Well, all I can say is the good Lord must have been watching over you.”

  “He was. The doctor said if the bullet had gone another inch to the right, I probably wouldn’t be here.” She dabbed her eyes with the tissue again and looked up at him. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to carry out my atonement, but my mother was sick. I had to wait until she passed. My sister and I cared for her. She was buried two weeks ago.”

  She reached out and took Phillip’s hand. “Robert was a bad seed. He had the devil in him since he was twelve. We did everything to save him, but nothing seemed to work. He smoked cigarettes, drank alcohol…stole from people. And now his soul is damned to hell.”

  Phillip pulled an envelope from his pocket. “I’d like to make a donation to your family. I’m sorry that you were injured during all of this.”

  She pushed it away. “Oh, I couldn’t accept that. Not after the pain our brother has caused you.”

  Phillip stood up and left the envelope where it lay. “Well, please donate the money to your congregation then. I’m going to let you rest.”

  She gripped his hand. “Bless you.”

  As they walked down the hospital corridor to the elevator, Phillip asked Stephen, “Did you hear what she told me?”

  “I heard most of it. I bet her brother’s actions probably put her mother in an early grave.”

  Phillip nodded. “Poor Britt. She loved to tease. She never understood that it wasn’t just harmless fun. Bobby enjoyed her attention too much, so when it dawned on him that she was only joking around, he thought she was mocking him. He lost it and ended up killing her.”

  The elevator door opened, and they stepped in. Phillip turned to Stephen. “So, I hear you’re going to be working for Television City as an assistant director. Congratulations.”

  Stephen felt a coldness wash over him. How did he know about that offer? “Oh, that. No, I turned it down. I’m sorry I never said anything to you about it. I…I was feeling sorry for myself because we weren’t working on any projects. On a whim, I dropped off a resume when I was in L.A. I had no idea they’d call me. Really. It was quite a surprise. But I said no.”

  The elevator reached the first floor. They stepped into the lobby. Phillip said, “I wasn’t aware that you weren’t happy. Stephen, the last thing I want to do is hold you back. If you’re interested in working somewhere else, go for it. You know I’ll support you all the way.”

  Stephen looked down at the floor. “Thank you, but no. I’m very happy working here, and I appreciate all of the support and training you’ve given me. I know this wasn’t the way to show it. I’m sorry I snuck around your back. Not my finest hour.”

  “I was a little taken aback when Frank Gerard called me and asked for a recommendation. With Cora and Jeanette gone, and then when it looked like you were leaving.” He paused. “I must admit, I’ve had better days.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am. I hope you can forgive me.”

  ###

  When they returned to Cliffside Manor, Phillip found Irving pacing back and forth in the trophy room. “Oh, I’m glad you’re back. I have news.”

  “Do you want a drink?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Phillip poured out three small glasses of whiskey. He handed one to Stephen and gave one to Irving. “You wanted to see us?”

  “Yes. My contact with the Feds called. They’ve just arrested Johnny Stampos and Cyrus on money laundering charges.”

  Phillip spun around. “Johnny Stampos! That’s the guy Barbara’s been hiding from for the last few weeks.”

  Irving took a sip of whiskey. “I presumed as much.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Phillip asked.

  “Like I told you, I was sworn to secrecy. As it was, I told you more than I should have.”

  “So you didn’t trust me?”

  Irving shook his head. “No. That wasn’t it at all. But I knew this bust was eminent. I also knew about Barbara. For all I knew, she was still in contact with Johnny. I couldn’t take the chance.” He took another sip of whiskey. “Did you know Barbara introduced me to Johnny Stampos about a year ago?”

  Phillip looked shocked. “No.”

  “He had all sorts of questions about how the money worked in movies and in Hollywood. I didn’t want anything to do with him. I told him our firm tried to stay away from that kind of business. Apparently Cyrus didn’t share my reservations.”

  Phillip frowned. “Did you say Cyrus was arrested also?”

  “Yes. At his hospital bedside. It’s a shame. I can’t even imagine what Elena must be going through. It’s funny. I should hate the man for using my car to kill that reporter. Was he trying to set me up for some reason or did he just steal my car because it was available?”

  The phone rang. Stephen took a step toward the kitchen. “I’ll get it.”

  A few minutes later, he returned to the Trophy room. Phillip stood as Irving was saying something. Phillip noticed Stephen. “What’s wrong?”

  “It was Jeanette. Her mother passed away a half an hour ago.”

  Twenty Four

  The next day Stephen drove Irving, Barbara, and Allen to the airport in Marquette. Irving and Barbara were headed back to Los Angeles, while Allen was returning to his small seaside bungalow in Cape May, New Jersey.

  When Stephen returned to Cliffside Manor, he heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen. “Cora! You’re back.”

  She ran up and hugged him. “I am. I had a wonderful trip with my sister, but it’s nice to be back.”

  “Be glad you weren’t here. It’s been a very interesting time, to say the least.”

  Cora pulled a slip of paper from her apron. “A woman named Gayle called and would like you to call her back as soon as possible.”

  Stephen reached for the note. “What now?”

  As he entered the trophy room to return her call, he saw Phillip standing with his head down.

  “I’m back from the airport. Cora’s here. What a nice surprise.” He walked up to Phillip. “What’s wrong?”

  Phillip turned. “I just got a call from Elena. Cyrus is gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “He’s dead. The infection spread. He went into a coma and then passed away.”

  “Oh, no.”

  Phillip poured himself a drink. “Maybe it was best. From what Irving said, he was looking at a long sentence in prison.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I know how closely you both worked together.”

  “We did. I had no idea what he was up to.”

  Stephen grabbed the phone. “Do you mind if I call Gayle? She left me a message to call her as soon as possible.”

  Phillip headed toward the door. “No. Go right ahead.”

  He dialed her number.

  “Stephen, I’m so glad you called. I’ve got more news about Irving’
s car.”

  He settled into the leather sofa. “What is it?”

  “I was able to contact Richard in Hawaii. I told him what we knew about the car at Pearblossom, and how it had disappeared. He asked if I could make some fliers offering a five thousand dollar reward for information as to where the car was. My friend and I went back and stuck the fliers all over the little town. It didn’t take long to hear from somebody.”

  “That was a great idea. What did you find out?”

  A Mexican man who lived on the next ranchette called to say Cyrus asked him to drive the car across the border to Tijuana to get it repaired. I called the police and told them everything we learned. They located the car. I’ve had time to dig deeper into Francesco’s notes. He had some very incriminating evidence against Cyrus. Including a link to one of L.A.’s most infamous mob figures.”

  “Johnny Stampos?”

  There was a pause. “How did you know?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in later.”

  “Anyway, there’s no doubt Cyrus stole the car from Irving’s house, followed Francesco, and forced him off Mulholland Drive.”

  “That’s amazing,” Stephen said. “You’re not going to believe me, but a few minutes ago Phillip got a call from Elena. Cyrus is dead.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. He was burned very badly and then got an infection. He went into a coma at the hospital.”

  There was silence on the end of the phone. Finally she said, “I guess justice will never be served.”

  Stephen thought for a moment. “Maybe it has.”

  Twenty Five

  Three months later, the first Sunday in December, a fire was roaring in the trophy room. Cora entered holding a tray piled high with bakery.

  Phillip lowered the paper. “What do you have there, Cora?”

  “Homemade cream puffs. Just out of the oven.”

  Stephen looked over at Jeanette. “I think I’ll pass.”

  Jeanette’s eyebrows arched up. Stephen burst out laughing. “Just kidding. Can I get you one?”

  “Of course,” Jeanette replied.

  Cora stepped toward the hallway. “Fresh coffee’s on its way.”

  Phillip grabbed a pastry and pointed to the paper. “I just read something that was very interesting.”

  Stephen asked, “What?”

  “There’s an update about the new director over at the mental hospital. They mention that the woman who was in charge of Judith, I mean Louise Applegate, has started her own practice way up in Hibbing, Minnesota.”

  “I think it’s sad that they fired her,” Jeanette said. “I read where some people thought her program was getting good results.”

  Stephen looked over at her. “Really? If I hadn’t fallen asleep up in the library that night, one of her results would have been a knife in my back.”

  Jeanette grimaced. “Yeah. Maybe it’s best she was replaced.”

  Stephen nodded. “Speaking of getting fired, I wonder if that housekeeper at Atlantic Shores ever got her job back.”

  “She should have,” Phillip said. “They dropped all charges. It wouldn’t be fair to punish her for that stupid idea her brother and his friend came up with.”

  “Have you heard from Cyrus’s wife?” Stephen asked Phillip.

  “I have. It’s sad. She was forced to sell their house in Los Angeles. She now lives in the ranchette in Pearblossom you visited.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Why would she move there? It’s a tiny little town in the Mojave Desert.”

  “She had to. There was no money left. She told me she got a part-time job working in a persimmons orchard.”

  “That’s sad,” Stephen said.

  Cora returned with a pot of coffee. She poured a cup for Phillip.

  He blew on it, trying to cool it off. “At least that crazy Paulie Deluca’s back in prison where he belongs.”

  “That’s for sure,” Stephen responded. “I hope I never see him again. I can’t believe that woman who helped him escape only got five years. She should have gotten at least twenty for helping that nut case get out.”

  Jeanette smiled. “That nut case is trying to get married.”

  Stephen took a cup from Cora. “You’ve got to be kidding?”

  “I saw it on TV when I was visiting my sister. He’s been writing to some old girlfriend from New York. He proposed and she said yes. Someone from the prison said it’s not going to happen.”

  “I hope not,” Phillip said. “That would be ridiculous. What’s wrong with that woman, anyway? Oh, I almost forgot. Barbara called me.”

  Jeanette wrinkled her nose. “Don’t tell me she’s coming for another visit?”

  “No. That’s not it. She told me that Johnny Stampos’s trial was finally over. He was convicted of money laundering. Based on his background, he’s looking at a long time in prison. He’ll probably never see the light of day, as old as he is.”

  Phillip reached for another cream puff. “Enough about that. We need to forget all that awful stuff and move on.” He bent down and picked up a thick bundle of papers. “Here it is. The finished script. Allen’s polished it up. I’ve reviewed the whole thing. I think we’re ready to start.”

  Stephen moved closer to Jeanette. “I’ve got an idea about where we can shoot some of it.”

  “You do?” Phillip asked.

  “Yes. I saw an old house when Jeanette and I went shopping last week. It looked perfect.”

  “It was real spooky looking,” Jeanette added.

  “Do you think they’d let us film there?” Phillip asked.

  “I don’t know? Why don’t I find out?”

  Jeanette grabbed Stephen’s hand. “Okay. Let me hang on real tight. Looks like we’re about to have another adventure.”

  A Sampling of another novel by

  James R. Nelson.

  The House on Turner Lane

  Prologue

  Forest Ranger Charlie Loonsfoot slammed on the brakes as he rounded a steep corner on South Boundary Road. Two black bear cubs scrambled out of his way and played next to an outcrop of rock. By the size of them, they were probably around seven months old and both males. They were born in January when their mother was still in hibernation.

  Charlie watched as they wrestled with each other. He peered out of his rain-spotted windshield. Where was she? Close. Mama wouldn’t be far from her cubs. They’d better enjoy their time with her now because next summer she’d be snapping at them to go off on their own.

  He hit the gas pedal and continued up the steep road. It was nice to get out of that damn office. He was proud of his promotion, but now it kept him behind a desk most of the time. He pulled into an overlook area and turned up the heater, but he knew it was no use. The government truck he grabbed from the motor pool had problems. He rubbed his hands together and flipped on the two-way radio. Nothing urgent. Just typical chatter. Not much was going on. The cold front and rain squalls that rolled in a few days before were enough to nearly empty the park. It sure didn’t feel like July.

  The two cubs he’d seen, and probably about two thousand other bears that roamed the 60,000 acre Porcupine Mountain Wilderness State Park, had the place almost to themselves.

  He rubbed condensation off his window and looked outside. There was nothing to see. A gray mist hung over the mountains.

  Back down the road, one of the bear cubs stopped and sniffed the air. He walked closer to a flat spot fifty feet off the pavement where the ground had been disturbed. He pawed at the dirt a few times and then dug deeper. Curious, his sibling wandered over and joined in. The glint of a thin gold necklace was ignored as the rancid smell of decay captured their attention.

  Slowly they uncovered a human skull and pried it from the ground. The first cub batted it and chased after it as it rolled down an incline. His brother ran over, bit down between the eye sockets, and tried to yank the skull away.

  From a dense thicket their mother gave a sharp bark. The two cubs released th
eir newly found toy and scampered toward her. The dropped skull rolled down a small hill and splashed into a fast-moving creek where it bobbed along the surface for a few minutes before sinking. The strong current carried it downstream tumbling unseen from the surface, among the stones and gravel of the creek bed.

  Chapter 1

  Olivia Thompson brushed away tears as she slipped out of her mother’s bedroom and quietly closed the door behind her. She sat down at the kitchen table. “I hope it’s my imagination, Elaine, but I think Mom looks even thinner now than she did when I got home from college.” She picked up a napkin and dabbed her eyes.

  “I don’t think so. They’ve been monitoring her weight every time I take her to the clinic. It may have gone down a little, but Doctor Franz thinks things have actually started to stabilize.”

  Olivia reached over and took Elaine’s hand. “What would we do without you?”

  “Just stop now. Your mother and I have been best friends ever since your family moved here.” She smiled. “You girls were so adorable. Just think, you were only three and your sister was almost six.” She stared at Olivia. “Look at you now. A whole year of college behind you.”

  Olivia glanced at the clock above the stove. “Speaking of Rachel, why isn’t she here?”

  Elaine sighed. “I think she’s having a hard time facing the fact that your mother’s sick. She…she seems to think this is going to go away somehow.”

  Olivia went over to the coffeepot. “You want a refill?”

  “Sure.” Elaine handed her a cup.

  Olivia poured them both coffee and sat back down. “You’re making excuses for her just like Mom always does. She has a hard time facing anything. Getting a job, keeping a job, getting a boyfriend, keeping a boyfriend…” She took a sip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t vent. But while I was gone, she should’ve been over here doing all the things you’ve been doing. Sometimes I…I just don’t understand her.”