by Amber Crewes
Meghan agreed. With the shiny wooden floors, soft music playing, and diverse array of floral arrangements placed on bamboo tables, the nursing home felt like an opulent spa.
“Mrs. Sheridan.”
The three women turned to see a short middle-aged woman approaching them. She had silver hair piled atop her head in an elegant bun, and she was dressed in a burgundy smock with black velvet leggings beneath. Her face looked concerned, and she ran to Mrs. Sheridan and wrapped her arms around her.
“Sally Sheridan, I am so, so sorry to hear about Mrs. Hudson,” the woman cooed as she embraced Mrs. Sheridan. “Mrs. Hudson was a wonderful woman, and we are going to miss her here.”
Mrs. Sheridan wiped a tear from her eyes. “Thank you for the kind words, Valerie,” she sniffled as the woman patted her back. “These are my friends, Meghan and Trudy. They accompanied me here. They were there when I heard the news.”
The woman turned to Meghan and Trudy. “I’m Valerie Hodge,” she told them with a soft smile, reaching out her hand to shake theirs. “Director of this facility. I have been working here in different capacities for over twenty years, and I knew Mrs. Hudson well. I was so sad to hear of her passing.”
Meghan shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “Although, I wish it were under better circumstances.”
Valerie smiled sympathetically. “It happens,” she said. “All too often in a nursing home, it seems, but we get used to it.”
Mrs. Sheridan wiped a tear from her eyes. “Did you see her before it happened, Valerie?”
Valerie nodded sweetly. “I did,” she cooed, placing a hand on Mrs. Sheridan's elbow and squeezing gently. “We chatted this morning during our buffet luncheon. She was in good spirits.”
Mrs. Sheridan wiped her nose on her sleeve. “She was in good spirits when I saw her yesterday. She looked vibrant and seemed full of energy. I just don’t understand how she could be doing so well yesterday and be dead today!”
Valerie leaned in toward Trudy, Meghan, and Mrs. Sheridan. “She was in happy spirits this morning,” she began. “But there was something odd I noticed late last night,” she murmured, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening. “One of our nursemaids was ill last night, so I stepped in to do the last rounds of the evening.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “So you saw something during the rounds?”
Valerie bit her lip. “Not something. Someone.”
Mrs. Sheridan’s face grew dark. “Someone? Who? Auntie doesn’t have visitors, except for me.”
Valerie clasped her hands together and inhaled. “It was Mark Tilley,” she said as Mrs. Sheridan’s jaw dropped. “I saw Mark Tilley coming out of her room last night.”
Mrs. Sheridan’s face turned white, and before Meghan could catch her, she fell to the floor, hitting her head and losing consciousness.
6
“W
e couldn’t wake her up. We had to call an ambulance,” Meghan said gravely as she recounted the events of the previous evening to Karen, as well as her friend, Jackie.
“That’s awful,” Jackie murmured, pushing her newly-dyed jet-black hair out of her eyes. “So who was this Mark Tilley guy? Is it someone she knew?”
“Clearly!” Karen chimed in as she sipped her green tea latte. “She passed out! Meghan, tell us, who was he?”
Meghan took a bite of her warm chocolate chip cookie. The ladies had met up for an afternoon snack at Moon Dollar, a new coffee shop in the next town. Jackie had insisted making the trip, saying that she needed to get out of town for the day.
“Valerie wouldn’t tell us,” Meghan shrugged as she licked a piece of chocolate from the corner of her lips. “She was freaking out; Mrs. Sheridan’s body was shaking uncontrollably after she passed out, and Valerie was losing her cool.”
“That seems odd to me,” Karen replied as she leaned against her yellow leather chair in the corner of the coffee shop. “She works at a nursing home. Surely people are passing out all of the time, no?”
Meghan bit her lip. “It isn’t your average nursing home,” she explained. “The place looks like a palace; there are high ceilings, famous works of art on display, and windows the size of this coffee shop overlooking a serenity garden that could put Luxembourg Garden in Paris to shame. I did some research after I got home last night, and from what I can tell, it costs a fortune to spend even one night there, let alone years! And, from the looks of her, it seems like Valerie isn’t doing the dirty work there, so I’m not surprised she had such a strong reaction to Mrs. Sheridan’s collapse.”
Jackie shook her head. “Can you imagine having so much money?” she sighed. “Some of my clients at my beauty salon come in dripping with diamonds and wearing designer clothing, and I can only imagine what it’s like to have that kind of dough.”
Karen rolled her eyes. “Money is not everything,” she insisted as she took another sip of her tea. “Health is what truly matters; you can have all of the money in the world, but if you don’t have your health, what’s the point?”
Jackie laughed. “I would choose millions of dollars over my health any day,” she announced playfully as Karen scoffed. “I still want to know who that Mark Tilley is, though. I wonder if he killed Mrs. Hudson?”
Karen leaned in and clasped her hands together in a conspiratorial fashion. “I know who Mark Tilley is,” she whispered, looking from Jackie to Meghan.
“You do?” Meghan cried.
“I do,” Karen confirmed. “Mark Tilley and I went to grade school together; he was a few years younger than me, but we played on the same youth basketball team when we were children.”
Meghan gasped. “Who is he?”
Karen took a deep breath. “He is Mrs. Hudson’s nephew.”
Meghan’s dark eyes widened, and she clutched her heart. “You have to be kidding me.”
Karen shook her head. “I’m not,” she insisted. “Anyone who has lived in Sandy Bay for over forty years would know Mark Tilley; he is second cousins with Mrs. Sheridan.”
“So they definitely know each other?” Jackie asked.
“Oh yes,” Karen agreed. “They absolutely know each other; Mark Tilley is a notorious recluse, and he committed crimes that burned his name into the history of this town. Twenty years ago, he was convicted of operating an illegal dog-fighting ring just south of town. It was humiliating for the family; Mrs. Sheridan’s grandparents were mortified, and they all cut ties with Mark.”
“What happened next?” Meghan asked.
“He vanished,” Karen said simply. “He was cast out of the family, and he went off the radar. A few years ago, his conviction was appealed and overturned by some technicality, but he stayed away from Sandy Bay society. His dream as a boy had been to open Sandy Bay’s first zoo, but the original conviction prohibited him from working with animals in any capacity. I always kind of thought he would try to open a zoo after his conviction was overturned, but no. He has always stayed away...”
Meghan frowned. “A dog fighting business sounds terrible,” she said. “But being cut off from your family? That’s just cruel.”
Karen nodded. “I agree,” she told Meghan. “I think what those people did to Mark drove him off the edge. His entire family turned their backs when he was arrested, and he was never the same. Well, almost the entire family. He kept in contact with Mrs. Hudson.”
Jackie wrinkled her nose. “Why would Mrs. Hudson stay in contact with her hoodlum nephew? Wasn’t she supposed to be strict?”
“For some reason, she supported him financially after his incident,” Karen murmured. “No one knew why, but everyone knew that once a year, Mark Tilley would show his face at the local bank, withdrawing thousands of dollars from Mrs. Hudson’s account.”
Meghan tried to make sense of Karen’s story. “I just don’t understand,” she said. “Why would she support him? Wouldn’t she want to save face like the rest of her family?”
“They had always been close,” Karen explained. �
�Mrs. Hudson’s own son, Bobby, died in a freak canoeing accident before Mark was even born. Everyone always said that Mark was the spitting image of his deceased cousin, and from what I’ve heard, Mrs. Hudson took an interest in the boy when he was young. She was devastated by the news of his criminal activity, but she could not bear to say goodbye to the nephew who reminded her of her own son. She adored Mark, and he loved her back. They remained close until...”
Meghan slumped back in her orange leather armchair. “That is quite the story,” she declared as she put her feet up on the little wooden coffee table below her seat. “But if Mrs. Hudson and Mark were so close, why would he kill her? She supported him financially. He wouldn’t have any need to kill her.”
Karen’s face grew grim. “Mrs. Hudson’s fortune is massive,” she told them. “Whoever inherited her wealth would instantly become a millionaire...maybe a billionaire. Mrs. Hudson was not an easy woman to please. I wonder if Mark had disobeyed her, or had been cut out of the will? That would have given him a good reason to….do what he did.”
Meghan’s face darkened. “I think that’s too much speculation,” she scolded Karen. “The coroner hasn’t even released a report on her death. Mrs. Hudson was one of the oldest women in the Pacific Northwest. It sounds like she was quite the force to be reckoned with, but perhaps she was just an elderly woman who passed away of natural causes.”
Karen chuckled. “Oh, Meghan,” she sighed as she reached over and patted Meghan’s knee. “Mrs. Sheridan, Mrs. Hudson, and Mark Tilley are some of the most complicated people in this entire town. Mark my words, if Mrs. Hudson actually died of natural causes, it will be the most shocking thing I have ever heard. There’s no way that Mark Tilley didn’t have something to do with it. That creep has always been up to no good, and it sounds like he just did away with the only person who ever truly loved him.”
7
M eghan pushed open the yellow front doors of the bakery, enjoying the chime of the little silver bells as she walked inside. She was exhausted from the outing with Karen and Jackie, but despite feeling tired, she had to get back to work. Meghan made herself a fresh cup of coffee, drank it quickly, and went into the kitchen.
“You’re back!” Pamela exclaimed as Meghan walked into the kitchen. “How was your coffee date?”
Meghan sighed. “It was fine,” she answered wearily as she tied her yellow apron around her waist. “Anything major happen since I have been away?”
Pamela shook her head. “Nope, nothing crazy. Mrs. Sheridan called a few minutes ago.”
Meghan stopped in her tracks, her dark eyes widening. She was still reeling from the intense conversation she’d had with her friends, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk with Mrs. Sheridan. “What did she want?”
Pamela smiled. “She just wanted to thank you for taking her to the nursing home,” she explained as Meghan sighed in relief. “She would also like some muffins. I told her she would have to talk to you; I know how bad she is about returning everything, and I didn’t want to deal with her coming in and out five times while you were out.”
Meghan wrapped an arm around Pamela’s thin shoulder. “You are sweet for being so protective of this bakery,” she told her young employee. “But next time, I need you to sell the customers what they want, regardless of their history with us. Mrs. Sheridan just lost her dear Aunt, and she is quite upset. I think she deserves a few muffins to help her get through this difficult time.”
Pamela’s hands flew to her face, which was turning red as she looked in horror at Meghan. “I didn’t even think of that,” she whispered as her eyes filled with tears. “Meghan, I was snippy with her on the phone. I am so embarrassed. I think I need to go over to her house right away with a basket of hot, fresh muffins.”
Meghan gave Pamela a quick hug. “We all make mistakes,” she told the girl. “Did she seem upset when you refused her?”
Pamela bit her lip. “She definitely wasn’t happy. Oh, Meghan. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have forgotten what’s happening with her family?”
Meghan looked Pamela in the eyes. “Take a breath,” she said calmly. “It happens. Things happen. We’ll fix this, don’t you worry.”
Pamela ran for the display case and began to collect a sack of muffins. “I’ll take her some blueberry ones, some red velvet muffins, a lemon drop muffin, and maybe the pear caramel? That’s been one of our best sellers.”
Meghan gently took the sack of muffins from Pamela. “Why don’t you let me deliver these? I can run over to Mrs. Sheridan’s, drop off the muffins, and be back before you know it?”
Pamela smiled weakly. “That sounds good,” she told Meghan. “I’m honestly too scared and embarrassed to face her right now after how much of an attitude I gave her.”
Meghan laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about your attitude,” she told Pamela. “I’m sure Mrs. Sheridan gave it right back to you.”
Meghan wrapped the muffins in a new box. She even wrote a card to go along with the arrangement, and she carefully slipped it beneath the yellow silk ribbon she had tied around the box.
Mrs. Sheridan,
We at Truly Sweet are so sorry for your loss. Please consider these muffins a token of our affection for you. We hope that they sweeten this sour time. Please do not hesitate to reach out if you need anything at all!
With love,
Meghan, Trudy, and Pamela
“What do you think?” Meghan asked Pamela. “I think the card is a nice touch.”
“It is,” she agreed. “I feel better now. I think she’ll like the muffins and the card.”
Meghan packed up her things and removed her apron. As she turned to leave the kitchen, Trudy walked in, her face grave. “What’s wrong?” Meghan asked.
Trudy gulped. “We received another call about coffins,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t tell if the caller was a man or a woman, but when I asked who they were, they hung up the phone immediately. It was strange, to say the least.”
Meghan’s chest grew tight, and she felt her palms grow sweaty. Who was continuing to harass them about the funeral services? Why was the bakery being targeted? Was this some sort of prank, a mistake, or something much more sinister?
“Oh, Meghan,” Pamela called out as Meghan walked out of the kitchen. “Mrs. Sheridan called from the nursing home, not her house. Just thought I would let you know.”
When Meghan arrived at the nursing home, she checked in with the security guard, who then escorted her into the foyer. She was met by Valerie Hodge, who greeted her with a warm smile.
“Meghan,” Valerie called out cheerfully as she leaned in and kissed Meghan on both cheeks. “How are you doing today?”
Meghan smiled weakly. “I’m doing alright,” she told Valerie. “Is Mrs. Sheridan still here?”
Valerie’s face fell. “She is, that poor dear,” she clucked. “She insisted that she stay in her Auntie’s room. She is so upset. Thank you for being such a rock for her, Meghan. Mrs. Sheridan mentioned that you were one of her dearest friends.”
Meghan’s heart warmed. Mrs. Sheridan was notoriously grumpy and rude, and while Meghan knew Mrs. Sheridan had warmed to her, she had not realized that Mrs. Sheridan considered her a close friend.
“It’s heartbreaking to watch our residents’ families go through their journey of grief as their loved ones pass away,” Valerie continued. “But I love my job. It is so fulfilling to make the last days of these wonderful elderly people as peaceful and luxurious as we can. I feel more like the director of a spa, or a cruise activity director than a nursing home manager. While our residents are old, they sure do have a lot of zest for life, and I love that.”
Meghan smiled. “It sounds like this is the perfect job for you,” she told Valerie.
“It is,” she agreed. “Managing Sevenoaks is what I was meant to do.”
Meghan gestured at the box of muffins she was holding. “That’s how I feel about my bakery,” she explained. “It’s what I wa
s born to do.”
Valerie eyed the muffins leerily. “You made those?” she asked as Meghan nodded. “Here at Sevenoaks, our residents’ meals are prepared by top chefs. We don’t allow gluten, sugar, wheat, dairy, or red meat on the premises. Surely you understand.”
Meghan laughed. “Well, luckily, these aren’t for your residents,” she informed Valerie. “I brought these for Mrs. Sheridan. I know they aren’t allowed here, but perhaps you could make an exception, especially since her Auntie just passed away?”
Valerie paused, but then nodded. “Of course,” she agreed. “Now, let me show you to Mrs. Hudson’s rooms.”