by Raven Snow
There was still a frown on Lacie’s face. Maybe that was where her daughter got it from. “I don’t eat sweets,” she said simply. Like Kate, she was a very slim woman.
“Oh.” Rowen looked down at the plate in her hands, suddenly feeling awkward standing there holding it.
Lacie reached out, hand open to accept the plate. “I’ll bring it home to the boys. They’ll eat anything.”
“All right.” Rowen handed her the brownies. “So, you didn’t get along with Bertha?”
Lacie placed the brownies on the edge of her desk, perilously close to the edge and the trashcan below. “I don’t want to be reading about this in that tabloid of yours later.”
Rowen shook her head. “Oh, this isn’t about the paper. This is purely a personal visit. I’m glad to report that the news has moved on from all this. Everyone will stop bothering you and your family soon, if they haven’t already.”
“That’s a pity.” Lacie leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “I had hoped that the news would keep the police on their toes. I’m still not comfortable with how all this went down. I’m certain Bertha had a will. That woman was too organized not to. She was practical. That was one of the few things I liked about her.”
Looking around the office, Rowen could believe that. There were many filing cabinets and bookshelves full of binders that all had their spines carefully labeled. “What do you think happened to it?” Rowen didn’t mention her own fears. She didn’t want to put anything into Lacie’s head.
Lacie raised an eyebrow, like she didn’t buy that Rowen couldn’t guess at her suspicions. This woman made Rowen nervous. Lacie might be better at reading people than Rowen was, and Lacie didn’t even have any magical prowess for it. “I believe your father might be able to answer that question better than I ever could.”
Rowen could feel her husband’s hand at the small of her back. It was firm there, supporting her. The sentiment was sweet, but Rowen didn’t need it. She was surprised to find she wasn’t really weepy about her father anymore. If anything, she was a little numb to it at this point. That suited her just fine. “Believe me,” she assured Lacie. “I’ve tried to get answers out of him. He doesn’t really offer up much.”
“Hmm.” Lacie didn’t really say anything to that. She watched Rowen like she was waiting for her to finish the conversation and awkwardly make her way back out the way she’d come in.
“I imagine you wanted to keep the house in the family.” It wasn’t a question, but Rowen wanted to keep the conversation going. There was something to be learned here. She could feel it. “Will you try to buy it if my father sells it?”
“I-” Lacie began, that frown of hers deepening. She didn’t get a chance to finish that thought. The door opened, grabbing her attention instead.
“Hey, Mom?” called Kate, letting the screen door bang shut behind her.
“You’re supposed to be with Mason.” Lacie stood and went to the counter. Her frown didn’t falter as she regarded her daughter.
Rowen could only assume that Mason was the horse. Most likely Kate was supposed to be doing something other than just sitting there on her phone when Rowen and Eric walked up. The pointed look Kate gave Rowen when she noticed her there said as much.
“I already put him up and everything.” Kate held up her cellphone. “I told Brittany I’d hang out with her today, remember? We’re going to, like, the mall and stuff.”
The mall? Did kids still go to the mall? There hadn’t been a whole lot to do at the mall even when Rowen was a teen. Not that she had ever been popular enough to hang out with the cool kids.
“Who else is going?” asked Lacie.
“Just Brittany.”
Lacie sighed. “Fine. Be back by nine.”
“I was gonna sleep over at Brittany’s house.”
“Well, be back there by nine then. Make sure you give me a call.”
“Thanks, Mommy.” Kate leaned across the counter and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.
All of what Rowen had just heard sounded so fake it was difficult to believe. Was it not obvious to Lacie that her daughter was pulling one of the oldest tricks known to teenagers everywhere. Maybe Kate had a track record of being a good girl who did what she said she would, but Rowen sort of doubted it. The ease with which Kate had lied was much too pronounced for that. Maybe it was just Rowen’s gifts that made Kate’s deception obvious.
“We should probably get going ourselves,” Rowen announced.
Lacie looked from her daughter to Rowen. “All right,” she said, curtly. She obviously wasn’t sorry to see them go.
Kate headed for the door and Rowen was right behind her. Kate glanced back a few times, no doubt finding their proximity more than a little awkward. Once at the parking lot, she headed for a car that was white and rode low to the ground. It was something of a classic, not a car Rowen would have envisioned a teen driving. “Nice car,” said Eric, evidently thinking the same thing.
“Thanks,” Kate replied mechanically. “It’s old,” she added once she had turned back to it. “I want to sell it for a new one, but Dad won’t let me.”
Rowen was about to ask why but Kate went ahead and got into the car. She didn’t want to talk. That much was obvious. Maybe it was for the best. They didn’t need to be interrogating a teenage girl at great length. That could end up getting them into quite a bit of trouble. Then again, wasn’t she eighteen? If she was, then why was she going to all that trouble to lie to her mother about going out to party, or whatever it was she would be doing?
“I bet that was a relatives’ car,” said Eric, watching as the car pulled off the gravel drive and onto the main road. It disappeared over the nearest hill. “That’s probably why the family doesn’t want it sold. It’s got some memories attached to it.”
Rowen considered that. She nodded. “Shane’s parents. It might be their car. He seems kind of nostalgic, doesn’t he? I wonder why he let his daughter have the car.”
“The mom probably talked him into it,” Eric suggested. “Looks to me like she might be pretty… convincing.”
“Don’t keep your insults to yourself on my account. I don’t like her much either.” Rowen walked to their car but stopped at the door. She ran her thumb over her lips, thoughtful.
“We’re not following that girl, if that’s what you’re thinking about.”
“Kate?” Rowen turned back to her husband. “No. Obviously, we can’t do that. There aren’t enough people on this road. Once we caught up, it would be super obvious we were tailing her.”
“That’s not why I didn’t think it would be a good idea,” Eric muttered.
Rowen ignored that part. “I was thinking about someone else.” The grandparents had reminded her of something that Rose had said. She hadn’t followed up on it yet. “There’s this great aunt in the Trainer family. She lives in a nursing home. Maybe I should visit her.”
“Why?”
“Well, I’ve met every member of the Trainer family except her, haven’t I? Maybe she can answer a few questions I still need the answers to.”
“She’s in a nursing home.” Eric stated that like those words alone should talk Rowen down. “She’s in there for a reason. There’s a good chance she might not be able to answer much. If Channel 2 finds out you’re harassing old ladies at—”
“I’m seeing family,” Rowen interrupted. “I’m meeting my great aunt… or great, great aunt. Whatever she is to me.”
“Not much,” Eric mumbled.
Rowen elbowed her husband. “You’re not being very cooperative. If you’re here to cheer me up, you’re not doing a great job of it.” She headed for their car.
“That’s not really my main goal right now.”
“Why not? It should be.”
“My main goal is to make sure you don’t get yourself on the news.”
“Oh.” Rowen flapped a hand and hoped it communicated just how unimportant that was right now. “That should be a secondary goal,
at best.”
“You say that now,” Eric muttered as he got in on the passenger’s side. The insinuation there was that Rowen would be plenty upset when she saw Julia spreading around a new, less than flattering story about her on the news. He was probably right, not that Rowen was going to acknowledge that. She simply opened her phone’s navigation app and got the address to the home.
Chapter Twelve
God. Rowen hoped she never ended up in a place like the Lainswich Dignified Retirement Home. The place was anything but dignified. It was more like a hospital. At least the staff seemed attentive, Rowen supposed. She had been in homes before that were much sadder than this. The elderly had been left unattended in empty hallways or in their own filth. At least here, the staff hovered from one patient to the next. It was still a sad place to be, but at least here it didn’t look like any elderly people were being abused.
“Can I help you?” asked the woman at the front desk. The words pinned to her chest said her name was Rebecca. She was a plump middle-aged woman with curly blond hair and a pug nose. Her small eyes moved up and down Rowen, taking her in.
“I’m here to see Marnie Trainer,” said Rowen, making sure she smiled.
“Oh.” Rebecca looked Rowen up and down again. Her gaze then went past Rowen, taking in Eric as well. “Are you family?”
“Apparently.” Rowen had been practicing what she would say on her way over. “I just found out the Trainers are my family. Maybe you heard about the whole mess with the Trainer family on the news.”
“Oh!” Rebecca’s small eyes widened marginally. “I did. You’re Rowen Greensmith.”
“I am,” said Rowen, even though the words hadn’t been framed as a question. “And this is my husband, Eric.”
“Oh,” Rebecca said yet again. She smiled sheepishly at Eric. “I’ve heard about you.” She looked back to Rowen. “You know, I used to do spells and stuff around middle and high school.”
“Yeah?” asked Rowen, feigning interest.
“Yeah. My daughter found some of my old spell books last week. My goodness it was so embarrassing. I think she wants to try some, and I can hardly say no. I still remember doing this love spell on Jacob Crabtree. You probably don’t know him. Probably before your time.”
“Probably.” Rowen much preferred Rebecca’s rambling to outright malice towards her family. Still, she wanted her to get on with things and let her visit with Marnie. Rebecca must have sensed as much because she stood abruptly.
“I guess I should get you to Ms. Trainer before meal time, huh?” Rebecca moved around the desk and down the hall to their right. “You’ll like Marnie. She’s a really sweet lady. It’s a shame she doesn’t get more visitors. I’m sure you know how it goes, though. A lot of folks get put in here and their family hardly ever visits.”
“That’s a shame,” said Eric.
Marnie glanced back over her shoulder with a smile. “Well, most of our residents don’t really know where they are. That can be hard for family members to deal with. I wish more of them would visit, but what can you do?”
Rowen was starting to second guess herself. “Is Marnie…” Rowen trailed off as she searched for the right word. She had to move to one side of the hall as they passed by a vacant-eyed woman in a wheelchair. “Are we going to be able to talk with Marnie or…”
“Or?” Rebecca began. “Oh!” She seemed to realize what Rowen was getting at. “Marnie is still very sharp. She just has some trouble with day to day activities. She’d be better off in a more hands-off assisted living environment, if you ask me. No one ever does, though. Oh, well. It’s not really my place anyway.” Marnie turned a corner. “Hi there, Mrs. Gonzalez.” She patted another woman in a wheelchair on the shoulder as they passed her by. “You know, I’ve been meaning to visit that shop you have downtown.” Rebecca had switched back to addressing Rowen. “It looks neat. I’m afraid someone from my Bible study would see me there, though. I’d never hear the end of it then.”
“It’s my aunt’s store, actually. And you’d probably be fine. You could always just say you were in there buying candles or incense.”
“I suppose I could, couldn’t I?” Rebecca stopped next to a door labeled 301C. “Well, this is her. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though lunch is in twenty minutes and visiting hours end at seven.”
Rowen nodded. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” Rebecca knocked on the door. “Ms. Trainer?” she called. “Ms. Trainer, you have guests.”
“I don’t want guests,” snapped a voice from the inside.
Rebecca’s face drained of its color. She glanced back at Rowen and Eric with a nervous sort of smile. She had already told them they were welcome to stay as long as they liked, after all. “It’s your niece and-”
“I don’t want guests!”
“It’s Rowen and Eric Greensmith, Ma’am,” Rowen said, speaking up. “We won’t take up much of your time. I just… I only recently found out we were related, and I wanted to meet you.” She wasn’t going to force herself on the old lady. Even Rowen had her limits.
There was silence on the other side of the door. “Fine,” Marnie relented. “Let them in.”
Rebecca exhaled a nervous laugh and opened the door. “I’m not used to you being so unfriendly.” She was teasing but when Marnie didn’t laugh with her, she shuffled back from the doorway. “Well, I should get back to the front desk. Are you all right if I leave these two here with you?”
“I’ll manage,” said Marnie, her mouth a straight and solemn line.
“All right, well just hit your button if you change your mind.” Rebecca nodded to Rowen and Eric. “It was nice meeting the two of you.”
“Likewise,” Rowen echoed, meaning it. She wished everyone around Lainswich was as well-meaning as Rebecca. In the meantime, it seemed they would have to deal with the opposite in Marnie. “Mind if I shut the door?”
“I do actually,” replied Marnie. Even in her old age, she had her nephew’s dark hair. It was shot through with streaks of white now, but the resemblance was there. Unlike Shane, her face was sullen and unreadable. She reminded Rowen more of Lacie than Shane. She seemed closed off, unwilling to talk already. From what little Rowen had heard about the woman, that was probably what Bertha had been like as well. “As a general rule, I don’t like being alone in rooms with people I don’t know.”
“Fair enough.” Rowen left the doorway and came further into the room. “I’m Rowen, and-”
“Rowen and Eric.” She nodded to them both in turn. “Yes, I heard. You’re Desmond’s kid and I’m guessing this is your husband. What do you want?”
Rowen rocked back on her heels, clearing her throat to stall for time. She wasn’t quite sure how to talk to Marnie. This wasn’t the kind of reception she had expected. Rebecca had been right about one thing; Marnie didn’t seem like she belonged here. “I don’t want anything.”
“Of course you do.”
Rowen glanced back at Eric but he could only offer her the smallest of shrugs. She looked again to Marnie. “I wanted to meet you. I only just found out who Desmond was and that I’m his daughter.” That much was true. Marnie was right. She did want something from her. That didn’t preclude the rest, though. She still wanted to meet Marnie, to meet another member of her family. Maybe, deep down, she had been hoping to find a Trainer that might be able to offer her something like love. That had probably been too much to hope for. She felt silly thinking about it now. “I think you’re the only remaining Trainer in Lainswich I’ve yet to meet. I thought it was time to remedy that.”
“Did you now?” Marnie shifted in her seat, sitting a little more towards the edge of it. She was next to the window in a padded chair. The blinds were open and the sunlight was streaming in. She had a book open on her knees. “Well there’s not much to see here.” She motioned to her surroundings. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’m not a very interesting person.”
Contrary to what Marnie was saying, Row
en found herself interested. She was very interested. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is it you live here?” Rowen realized suddenly that it might be taken the wrong way. “I just mean— I assumed it’s not for financial reasons. I was only wondering because the woman who brought us back here seemed confused as well.”
“I enjoy it here,” she said, which was difficult to believe. “It’s comfortable here. The staff is attentive.”
“You don’t want your privacy?” Rowen couldn’t help but ask, even after Eric elbowed her in the ribs. “I know there’s an assisted living place nearby. Is the price all that different? They seem so hands on here. It’s got to be expensive.”
“You’re awfully forward, aren’t you?” Marnie set the book aside. Her room was small and there was a table within arm’s reach. “I like it here. I’ve never felt safe living on my own. I don’t suppose either of you play chess.”
One statement segued so abruptly into the next that Rowen hadn’t followed it. “Huh?”
“I do,” said Eric, stepping forward.
“Would you like to play a quick game?” asked Marnie. She pointed to a chest of drawers. “It’s in the bottom drawer. Set it up, will you? You can be white.”
It seemed Marnie had made Eric’s decision for him. To his credit, it was unlikely he had a problem with that. He retrieved the box from the bottom drawer and brought it to the table Marnie had placed her book on. It was a cheap little chess set with plastic pieces.
“No one here really plays,” said Marnie, watching Eric set things up, her eyes partially closed and wistful.
“I heard no one really visits,” Rowen commented, ignoring the way Eric glanced over his shoulder at her.
“No, not really. I prefer it that way, if I’m being honest. I don’t much care for the woman Shane married.” Marnie nodded toward a second padded chair and her bed. “You can sit down, if you like.”
Eric took a seat, but Rowen remained standing. “Lacie? She seems like a hard woman to like.” Rowen watched as Marnie gave her a measured sort of look. It was like she was trying to decide if Rowen really meant that or not.