Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

  ‘What do you want to know, Mrs Meadows?’

  ‘Ms,’ she corrected. ‘Look, I found a bloody hammer in my house.’

  His voice sharpened. ‘Where?’

  ‘In a cabinet on the basement stairs.’

  ‘Did you touch it?’

  ‘I didn’t even touch the cabinet. It was hanging open.’

  ‘Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ she asked. ‘I have to work.’

  She heard the sigh. ‘Twenty minutes.’

  She put her phone in her pocket, a place where it was rarely found. ‘How is your stomach, honey?’

  Vellum let her tongue flop out of her mouth.

  ‘That good, huh. Why don’t you find my bottle of antacid tablets? Or I could make you a cup of tea.’

  ‘Oh, please. I’m not forty.’

  ‘Neither am I,’ Mandy protested. ‘I’d send you over to Grandma’s, but I think they will want to talk to you.’

  ‘OK.’ Vellum’s lips pinched.

  Mandy saw her distress and took her daughter into the living room. They curled up together on the sofa and waited for the handsome detective to arrive.

  ‘We should be filming,’ Vellum said after a while.

  ‘Do you really think you saw Ryan in the washer?’ Mandy asked.

  Vellum rubbed her face against Mandy’s shoulder. ‘Yep.’ She sat up and walked into the art studio. A minute later she reappeared with her sketchbook. With quick moves of her pencil, she drew the outline of the washer, then began to shade it in.

  Mandy was astonished by her daughter’s command of light and shade. Then the creepy factor arrived as Ryan’s face emerged to the left of the washer door.

  ‘Wow,’ Mandy said, with nothing else coming to mind.

  ‘I know,’ Vellum whispered.

  ‘Don’t show that to your grandmother or she’ll want to hold a séance in the basement.’

  ‘Maybe we should.’ Vellum’s voice cracked.

  ‘I’m hoping that getting the murder weapon out of here will solve the problem,’ Mandy said with a tone of certainty that she didn’t feel.

  The doorbell rang. Another front door arrival. Mandy had come to see that as bad news. The friendly news came in through the kitchen. She tucked a pillow under Vellum’s cheek and opened the door.

  Detective Ahola wore jeans, a Husky football T-shirt, and a studded leather jacket of the kind that mostly appeared on aging rock stars. She checked his feet for the requisite motorcycle boots but he simply wore some kind of black athletic shoe. Maybe she’d missed the trend.

  Either way, his attire suited his athletic frame perfectly. She had to ask, ‘How old are you?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Thirty-five. Why?’

  She shrugged. ‘You’re a year younger than me. Just wondering.’ Not that she was wondering if he was single. She wasn’t dating right now.

  His gaze pierced into her for a minute, then his body language relaxed. ‘You found a hammer?’

  She nodded and let him in. ‘I didn’t touch it.’

  He followed her into the hall. She opened the basement door again, flipped on the light switch and led him halfway down the stairs.

  He glanced at the cabinet. ‘You found it open like this?’

  ‘I know it sounds nuts, but Vellum came down with laundry. She didn’t notice it but came up in a panic, so I went down the stairs, made it to the landing, and then realized it was open.’

  ‘She didn’t notice this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Anyone else been in the house?’

  ‘Ryan’s friends, Dylan and Alexis, made it just inside the front door but I got them out of here. They had just left when Vellum shrieked.’

  ‘Why was she upset?’

  ‘I saw Ryan’s ghost,’ Vellum said from behind him, at the top of the stairs. Her face had taken on a mulish expression, like she expected him to make fun of her.

  Detective Ahola turned to face her. ‘What did you see? A shadowy figure?’

  ‘No. His face, in the front of the washing machine.’

  ‘Do you think someone might have sneaked into the basement to retrieve the hammer and you saw a real person?’ he asked.

  Mandy wondered that too, but Vellum had a note of certainty when she spoke. ‘No, it was Ryan.’

  ‘She did a sketch of what she saw,’ Mandy offered.

  ‘The brain can do all kinds of funny things,’ the detective said. ‘You see a man and you only expect your cousin to be there so that’s what you perceive.’

  ‘I didn’t hear anything,’ Mandy said, then rolled her eyes. ‘Of course, I didn’t hear anyone come in on Wednesday night, either. I thought I knew every creak this house makes.’

  ‘You’re probably starting to block out the noises you are used to,’ the detective said. ‘Why did Ryan’s friends show up this morning?’

  ‘They wanted some of his possessions. They claimed they’d helped him build his coin collection.’

  ‘It’s very common for people to try to grab expensive items in the aftermath of a death,’ the detective said. ‘A depressing reality.’

  ‘I asked them if they had keys. They said no.’

  ‘Could they have distracted you while someone else went in through the basement?’

  ‘Maybe, but they seemed to be a trio. Ryan, Dylan, and Alexis. I never saw them with anyone else. If they were trying to pull something, I’d have thought one of them would come to the door while the other sneaked in.’ She paused. ‘I’m not sure there was really time for them to leave my front steps and get downstairs before Vellum shrieked.’

  ‘You should check on those coins,’ the detective suggested.

  ‘That’s a smart idea, Mom,’ Vellum said.

  Detective Ahola stepped down one more riser and looked at the cabinet from every angle. ‘It’s hard to see. The stairs aren’t very well lit.’

  ‘Low watt bulb,’ Mandy admitted. ‘It’s a good one. I think it’s been there for years.’

  ‘I doubt we fingerprinted the area,’ the detective said. ‘I’d better call a technician to process this area properly.’

  ‘That is blood on the hammer, isn’t it?’

  He pulled a flashlight from his jacket pocket and shone it over the interior of the cabinet. ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘You said Ryan had a cracked nose,’ Mandy pointed out. ‘I didn’t notice that, but I’m sure I’d have noticed if someone had taken a hammer to his face.’

  Detective Ahola glanced up the stairs at Vellum. She wrapped her arms around herself and disappeared. ‘She doesn’t need to hear this.’

  ‘What?’ Mandy asked.

  He put his hand to the back of his head. ‘Bashed in, I’m afraid. You couldn’t have seen it from the way he was lying.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Mandy put her fingers to her mouth. ‘I had no idea.’

  He dropped his hand to his belt. ‘I’ll be interested to see if it appears that the hammer has been there all along.’

  She understood his intent immediately. ‘I know that finding it today makes me look bad, but it’s my house. I couldn’t lie about it.’

  ‘I know.’ He gave her an almost sympathetic look. ‘I’m going to make a call. People will be coming. Stay out of the way for now.’

  Mandy nodded. ‘OK. Want a coffee while we wait?’

  He bent down to examine something on the wall. ‘Sure. I’ll come up after I make my call.’

  Even the sight of an attractive man bending over didn’t dispel Mandy’s sense of unease. ‘Did you ever find Ryan’s car, by the way?’

  ‘It was in the USea parking garage. Someone must have driven him home that night.’

  She felt the back of her own head as she went up the stairs. ‘OK, thanks.’

  Vellum stayed in her bedroom while Mandy made a pot of coffee and let the evidence technician in, along with Detective Ahola’s partner, Detective Rideout.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear a
bout your wife,’ Mandy said awkwardly, remembering what Detective Ahola had told her. ‘It must be a very difficult time for your family.’

  The detective grimaced. ‘It’s just us, most of the time. Our daughter works in Tacoma.’

  ‘What does she do?’

  ‘She’s a program assistant with the Puyallup Tribe,’ the detective told her.

  ‘I’m glad Tacoma isn’t far, though with our traffic congestion it might as well be,’ Mandy said. ‘Could I make your family some muffins while you’re checking things out downstairs?’

  ‘That’s kind of you, but I couldn’t accept a gift.’

  He meant it could be a bribe. ‘I didn’t mean it that way.’

  Detective Rideout touched her arm. ‘I don’t imagine you did, and I appreciate the kindness. Truth is, she simply isn’t very hungry right now.’

  The technician said, ‘Excuse me, sir,’ and pushed past them.

  Mandy thought she recognized the man from Wednesday night. The detective nodded at her and followed the tech. Mandy decided to make muffins anyway. She and Vellum could eat them instead of going to the bakery. They could make a meal out of the muffins with the sausage and cheese that Vellum’s grandmother had sent.

  Mandy kept her ears on the noise of men’s voices through the open basement door while she mixed up a batch of cinnamon streusel muffins. She thought she heard her daughter’s voice once, but Vellum didn’t come out.

  A knock came on the back door while Mandy was sliding the muffin tin into the oven. Finally, someone she would probably want to see. Her mother, perhaps, or Linda, curious about the latest round of police vehicles outside.

  Instead, her ex-husband stood outside the mudroom on the steps. Mandy’s heart sank. No hint of the excitement she used to feel when she saw him had survived his infidelity. Nothing good came of his visits anymore. What did he want now?

  SEVEN

  Mandy opened the back door. ‘What do you want, Cory?’

  He wore a navy pea coat, with a cashmere scarf tucked into the collar. She could see a hint of a Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. His still-thick blond hair was neatly trimmed into an executive cut, despite him not holding a job.

  He didn’t have anything so fancy as a trust fund, just two grandmothers who gave him fifteen-thousand-dollar checks each year for his incidentals, a suite in his mother’s home, and a credit card that his father paid. His parents had been divorced for thirty years, following their own parents’ divorces in the seventies, and Mandy should have known he wouldn’t take marriage as seriously as she did. He came from a long line of philandering men. Unlike Cory, though, they had at least been hard-working. His father was a named law partner in a firm downtown, and Vellum said he showed no signs of retiring, though he was at retirement age now.

  ‘Vellum texted me.’ His forehead creased. ‘Sounded panicked. What kind of trouble are you in now?’

  ‘Same old,’ she snapped. ‘Just more about Ryan. If you want to help, pay to put in a security system to protect your daughter.’

  He lifted his hands. ‘Sorry, babe, no job, no money.’

  ‘You piece of—’ Mandy stopped, keeping the rest of her epithet to herself, especially with their daughter in the house. ‘What do your parents have against me? I’m the wronged party here. How dare you refuse to pay child support?’

  ‘My father is going to take this sad situation to court,’ Cory said mockingly. ‘Get my burden reduced since I’m unemployed now.’

  ‘Whatever happens in the future, you need to make your payments,’ Mandy snarled. ‘I have yet to see a check from you this year.’

  Cory glanced at the ceiling as if the answer to her demand lurked in the aging white paint.

  ‘Ms Meadows?’

  Mandy ignored the slight wince from her ex as she turned to the detective. As if Cory had any right to be upset that she’d changed her name. ‘Yes, Detective?’

  ‘We’ve secured the weapon and processed the area,’ Detective Rideout said.

  ‘Can I clean up the stairwell now?’ she asked meekly, hoping he hadn’t heard too much of her outburst.

  ‘Is that what you were doing when you discovered—’ he paused, glancing at Cory. ‘The item?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I found that cabinet open when I went down the stairs earlier. But I assume the tech left a mess.’

  ‘Ah. Yes, you can tidy that up. Our apologies.’

  She saw Detective Ahola come up behind his partner. He gave her a nod, then both men walked out of sight.

  ‘I need to lock the front door behind them,’ she told Cory, and sped into the living room. Once the men were gone and she’d bolted the door, she went and banged on Vellum’s door. Cory no longer had the privilege of walking through the house like he owned the place. ‘Your father is here.’

  Vellum opened the door. Her eyes were red.

  ‘Were you crying?’

  ‘I’m tired of seeing the police in our house,’ Vellum cried. ‘And I don’t want to be haunted.’

  Mandy pulled her daughter into her arms. ‘Ryan would never hurt you, sweetie. We’ll do whatever your grandmother suggests to move him to the next phase of his existence.’ Or at least whatever her mother suggested would make Vellum feel better.

  Vellum sniffed. ‘OK.’

  ‘Now, go deal with your father. Maybe I should shoot the video alone today.’

  Vellum rubbed her eyes. ‘No, I can manage him better than you can. We’ll do it.’

  Mandy went back into the kitchen. She ignored Cory and turned on the oven light to check on the muffins, since he’d interrupted her before she could set the kitchen timer. They would probably be ready in another ten or fifteen minutes. She set the timer for twelve to split the difference.

  Her cleaning supplies lived under the kitchen sink. After pulling on household gloves, she dragged out a bottle of all-purpose cleaning spray and a roll of paper towels. The last things she grabbed were a plastic bag and her emergency lantern.

  On the steps, she turned on the lantern, which brightened the staircase considerably, and surveyed the damage. She couldn’t detect any blood. Had it dried before the hammer had been placed in the cabinet? Had the killer sneaked back into her house, possibly while Vellum was doing laundry?

  Maybe they’d have to do laundry in her mom’s house for a while. She didn’t want to take any risks with her precious child.

  ‘I’ll lock and bar the door at the top of the stairs,’ she said.

  ‘Do you have any bolt hardware?’ Cory called.

  ‘No. Sorry, just talking to myself.’

  ‘I’ll take Vellum to the store. We’ll pick up a bolt lock for you and grab lunch.’

  Vellum appeared in the doorway next to her father. ‘I told you I need to work, Daddy. Mom pays me, remember?’

  Mandy wanted to say something rude about Cory being the last person to understand commitment, but she kept her thought to herself.

  ‘That’s fine,’ he said mildly. ‘I’ll run over to the hardware store and pick up some takeout from that Indian restaurant you like down the way.’

  ‘You have to get some for Mom, too,’ Vellum said.

  Mandy turned back to the cabinet with a smile and tried to ignore the beautiful sounds of her daughter having her back. She sprayed disinfectant all over the wood shelves, then thought better of it and pulled them out, ancient wood crumbling at the edges, and tackled every inch of the framed-in cabinet.

  Her small garbage bag filled with paper towels as she wiped out the cabinet, put the cleaned shelves back in, then scrubbed the wall. Finally, she tackled the basement steps, coughing from all the spray in the air. The enclosed space was hard to ventilate but she decided she didn’t care. Her collection of fans was stored in the laundry room and she didn’t want to go near it.

  Had the police gone down there? ‘Rats,’ she muttered. What if they’d left a mess down there, too? She coughed hard, and decided she needed to get out of the disinfectant haze. She’d check the la
undry room after Cory returned. He might be good for rescuing her from a ghost … or an intruder.

  Upstairs, she dropped her garbage bag into the pail and took off the gloves, careful to remove them so that her skin didn’t touch the outsides.

  Vellum popped in from the dining room as she washed her hands. ‘We’re all ready, Mom.’

  ‘We are?’ Mandy noticed the muffins were cooling on the counter. ‘Thanks for taking them out. I didn’t hear the alarm go off.’

  ‘I turned it off at ten seconds.’

  ‘Were they good?’ Mandy pointed at the empty hole in the muffin tin.

  ‘Dad took it.’

  ‘That will pay for my baba ghannouj.’ Mandy dried her hands and turned to her daughter with a smile. ‘Ready.’

  Vellum pointed at her. ‘How old is your manicure now?’

  ‘It’s at the outer limits, for sure. But we’d better not take the time to redo it.’

  ‘Mom,’ Vellum scolded.

  ‘I’m sure you’ve noticed how bad some of the journalers’ nails are. They joke about it.’

  ‘But we don’t want to be that kind of lifestyle maven,’ Vellum whined.

  Mandy grinned at her and wiggled her pastel pink nails. ‘Joking, kiddo. I redid them last night.’

  Back in their studio, Mandy replayed what they had done before Ryan’s death. ‘Let’s get any shudders out of our system now. I liked what we had. Do you remember your lines?’

  Vellum nodded. ‘Got it, Mom.’

  Mandy took a deep breath and circled her shoulders. Her right one popped, a disturbing reminder of heading into her late thirties. ‘We got this.’

  ‘We got this,’ Vellum echoed.

  Mandy set up her phone’s camera app and started the filming. They did well, remembering what they had said on Wednesday night, and continued on through inking their drawings. They needed to let them dry before applying color, so Mandy stopped the recording after they had finished the ink.

  Vellum stretched out her fingers, then did a couple of exercises Linda had taught them to keep their wrists and tendons supple. ‘That went well.’

  Mandy glanced at their artwork. ‘Absolutely. What do you want to use to color?’

  ‘I like the Koi brand pinks,’ Vellum said. ‘Why don’t I use them and you use the Crayola Supertips?’