Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

  ‘You’re supposed to be the student journaler,’ Mandy pointed out. ‘I hate to say it, but shouldn’t you use the less expensive option?’

  Vellum glanced at their array of pens, temptingly displayed in a set of glass boxes, the openings pointed outward so that the pens were easy to access. ‘I’ll use the Koi for the cherry blossoms and the Supertips for everything else. You use the Tombows.’

  ‘I can do that.’

  Vellum hesitated. ‘Do you want to say what we’re using, or just list it all below?’

  ‘Both,’ Mandy said. ‘I know it’s not exciting to us, but we aren’t the regular consumer of our content. Most of them don’t have our experience.’

  ‘Right,’ Vellum agreed. ‘That’s why we keep our palettes simple.’ She selected a pink for the flowers, a soft gray for the mountains and buildings, then a yellow gold for highlights.

  ‘I’m going to use a blue,’ Mandy said. ‘To add some definition to the mountain backdrop.’

  Vellum grabbed another pen while Mandy flipped through the Tombows. ‘So many blue choices,’ she moaned.

  Vellum chuckled. They both heard a bang at the mudroom door. ‘Dad,’ she said.

  ‘Lunchtime,’ Mandy agreed. ‘We’ll finish later. I can’t believe your father gave up part of his afternoon.’

  ‘He’s not a terrible father.’ Vellum stood and turned to Mandy. ‘Just a terrible husband.’ She smiled sadly and went to open the door.

  After lunch, Cory promised to return that evening to pick up Vellum for the rest of the weekend she was supposed to have with him. She and Mandy finished shooting their video.

  ‘One thing off the checklist,’ Mandy said.

  Vellum packed their pens back into the glass boxes. ‘Are you going to script the voiceover this month?’

  ‘I probably should. I’m so scatterbrained right now, though, with all the stress and grieving,’ Mandy told her.

  ‘I feel like we caught a lot of good stuff just while we were filming.’

  ‘I agree. The problem is making it seamless. I’ll see what we’ve got, edit it down, then figure out what to do.’ Mandy yawned.

  ‘What are you going to do tonight? You don’t have to make dinner for us now.’

  ‘Can of soup and a muffin. I’d have served that to you, too.’

  ‘You don’t have to add all those fresh veggies to make it healthier,’ Vellum pointed out. ‘You can be a slob.’

  ‘In that case, I’m just going to eat a muffin. Maybe some sausage and cheese.’ Mandy paused. ‘Seriously, though, as you get older you’ll actually appreciate taking care of yourself. It starts to make a difference, what you put in your body.’

  ‘Dad will just order us pizza.’

  ‘On top of chicken vindaloo?’ Mandy shuddered. ‘Better you than me. I’m going to take a bath and then look at the pages we did and decide about stickers.’

  She had a different workflow than her competitors. Most of her competitors designed stickers that they then used in their journaling videos. She and Vellum created their pages and then she made stickers for the month. They always used some of their standard stickers like printed days of the week in spreads, and also sold number strips and blank calendars and such.

  ‘Do a sticker page of cherry blossoms,’ Vellum said. ‘And use my designs. I like them better. Also, do a page of schoolbooks, like science and social studies and geometry. I think they’ll sell.’

  Mandy saluted. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Vellum rolled her eyes. ‘I need to pack. I don’t have any clean clothes. You can finish my laundry, right?’

  ‘That’s one of your chores, honey.’

  Vellum blinked, all innocence. ‘Special circumstances. They just need to be moved into the dryer and dumped on my bed. I’ll fold everything.’

  ‘You don’t want to go back into the basement?’

  Vellum screwed up her face. Knowing she was partly being played, Mandy gave her daughter a hug. ‘I’ll do it, but if I get eaten by a ghost you’ll have to live with your father full-time.’

  ‘Better eaten than possessed,’ Vellum giggled, and went to her bedroom to pack.

  Mandy contemplated braving the basement. What would settle her nerves? Wine? Some kind of ghetto alarm system on the basement door? A stacked set of cans, maybe? She had a case of garbanzo beans on a basement shelf.

  While Vellum was still in the house, she ventured down and dragged the dusty case of beans over to the back door and stacked them. She didn’t see any signs of forced entry, so if anyone had come inside they must have had a key. After that, she forced herself to go into the laundry room. Keeping her eyes averted from any reflective metallic surface, she dumped Vellum’s clothes into the dryer and started a load of towels. She’d have to come downstairs one more time to retrieve her daughter’s clothes. Experience had taught her that Vellum had a low tolerance for wrinkles, no matter what she said about just dumping her clothes on the bed.

  On the way up, her phone rang. She averted her eyes from the cabinet in the wall and took the steps two at a time. As soon as she had the door slammed closed, she answered.

  ‘Hi Mandy,’ said a low, very tired voice.

  ‘Jasmine,’ Mandy exclaimed. ‘I’m glad to hear from you.’ She’d left a message with her cousin as soon as she had her phone back, but Jasmine hadn’t answered or returned the call until now.

  Their four-year age difference had prevented Jasmine from ever bonding with Mandy. They were never interested in the same things. While Ryan had become protective and basically a sibling, Jasmine had been distant and superior. Her parents hadn’t had much money so Mandy hadn’t inherited hand-me-downs that might have given her some insight into her older cousin’s life, and Jasmine had gone to cosmetology school instead of college. They’d continued to have even less in common as adults than they had as children.

  ‘It’s too bad about Ryan,’ Jasmine said slowly. ‘Not that I expected him to make old bones.’

  ‘I don’t imagine his liver would have held out forever,’ Mandy agreed. ‘But I wanted him with us for longer than this.’

  ‘Do the police have anything new to offer?’

  ‘I learned something new today,’ Mandy said. ‘Something the police hadn’t told me before, but it’s horrible.’

  ‘What?’

  Mandy’s eyes pricked. ‘He was hit in the back of the head,’ she whispered.

  ‘How did you find that out?’

  She swallowed. Her voice came out shaky. ‘I found the hammer. In the house. I don’t know if the police missed it, or if someone came in later on and hid it.’

  ‘I hope it leads the police to the killer,’ Jasmine said after a pause.

  ‘Me too. Vellum is having some rough moments.’

  Childless Jasmine didn’t care about Vellum. Instead of making some comforting remark, she said, ‘I can’t afford to pay this week’s rent because Ryan didn’t have a bank account.’

  ‘How is that possible? He had a job.’

  ‘He signed the checks over to Mom and she gave him the cash. Stupid, right? But why save for retirement if you’re just going to drink yourself to death?’

  ‘Unbelievable,’ Mandy muttered, then immediately felt bad for her tone of voice. She needed the rent payment to keep on top of the mortgage, but Ryan had lost his life.

  ‘Not really.’ Jasmine blew into the phone. ‘Get his stuff together, will you? I doubt he has anything worth actual money, but I need something to cover his cell phone bill. I have his car now, since the police told me to pick it up from the hospital parking garage, but it’s just junk.’

  ‘He used a prepaid phone,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Well, I’m sure there are some bills.’

  Mandy doubted it. If he lived entirely on cash, he couldn’t have had credit card debt. He owned his car. But no doubt Jasmine would be happy to get some money from her brother’s estate, if she inherited it. ‘You don’t want to box everything up?’

  ‘I don’t have ti
me.’

  Mandy wanted to point out that she had two jobs, but Jasmine couldn’t care less. ‘Should I toss out things like toiletries and underwear?’

  ‘Gross,’ Jasmine said. ‘But you’d better box up every single thing.’

  Mandy gritted her teeth. What she heard was Jasmine thinking she’d hide away some good stuff if she didn’t pack up every single little item. What a suspicious nature her cousin had. She responded in a way that made her flaring temper calm. ‘Very well. I’m happy to do this last thing for Ryan.’

  ‘He’s dead,’ Jasmine said flatly. ‘You can stop sucking up to him.’

  She disconnected before Mandy could react. Had Jasmine been jealous of Ryan’s relationship with her?

  Mandy went up the stairs and locked the basement door behind her. That afternoon, Cory had installed a new bolt lock at shoulder height on the upstairs side of the door, so she shot the bolt home with a feeling of satisfaction. It would be difficult to break the door down from the steps. They should be safe in the house now.

  She texted Linda to see if she could bring over boxes in exchange for wine. Linda kept every packing box she ever received in her basement. Then she went to check on Vellum.

  A couple of hours later, Mandy had finished her intro and outro script for their April ‘Plan With Me’ video. She layered on a full face of makeup and recorded the script.

  The knock came as she was turning off her studio lights. She went to the back door and let Linda in.

  ‘I parked in your driveway so we only had to haul boxes from there to the basement,’ Linda explained.

  ‘Genius,’ Mandy praised. ‘Cory installed an extra deadbolt on the basement door to the backyard. I’ll have to go down and open it from inside.’

  ‘Is it really creepy down there right now?’

  ‘He died on the stairs, not in the basement proper,’ Mandy explained. ‘Do you want to come in?’

  ‘I’ll get started with the boxes,’ Linda said. ‘Is your wheelbarrow still outside?’

  ‘No, it’s locked up in the old garage.’ She used it for storage instead of parking since the roof was iffy since last spring’s windstorm.

  ‘Oh, well, boxes aren’t heavy.’

  A couple of minutes later, Mandy had the doors unbolted and Linda carried in an armful of large shipping boxes.

  ‘What do you buy that comes in boxes that large?’ Mandy asked.

  ‘They dump a bunch of small stuff into a large box.’ Linda looked at her pile of cardboard in satisfaction. ‘You’re wiping me out of probably three years of large boxes. I’m thrilled.’

  ‘Soon to be Jasmine’s problem,’ Mandy said.

  They brought in the rest of the boxes. The basement consisted of a hallway that opened into a laundry area, and then a warren of rooms, including a small bedroom and a larger family room, but also the furnace room, extra closets and a bathroom. Mandy uncorked a bottle of pinot and brought it into the family room.

  Cory had stripped the basement of furnishings when he moved out. The room here had been a playroom when Vellum was little, but when she’d reached double digits, he’d taken it over and turned it into a man cave.

  Linda came out of the bathroom, her hands still damp. ‘I swear I can still smell Big Beastie Kitty in there.’

  ‘Her litterbox was in there for almost ten years,’ Mandy said, ‘but I don’t think I’m that bad of a housekeeper.’

  ‘It’s just memories, I’m sure.’ Linda took one of the wine glasses. ‘Are you going to get another cat?’

  ‘Vellum cried for days when BBK died.’ Mandy sighed. ‘She was more emotional about that cat than about her grandfather’s death.’

  ‘Kids,’ Linda said, and tossed back half of her glass. ‘Think about it this way. She’ll be off to college in two and a half years. A new cat can’t go with her. She’ll be long gone before your next pet passes onto kitty heaven.’

  ‘You’re trying to turn me into a cat lady?’

  Linda smiled. ‘Not really. I’m mildly allergic to them. A dog would be better. A protector.’

  ‘Which animal is more psychic?’ Mandy asked, as the thought struck her.

  ‘Good question. Walk me through the haunting situation.’

  Mandy picked up the other wine glass and sat in Ryan’s creaking recliner. She told Linda what Vellum had claimed. ‘Can you imagine? But I think it might have been an actual intruder, rather than a ghost.’

  ‘That’s even worse!’ Linda exclaimed.

  ‘I wish I knew what she really saw.’ She rubbed her hand over the corduroy nub of the armrest. Her fingers came away with dangling white cat hairs. Odd. At least she hadn’t discovered Ryan had secretly had a cat down here. Maybe the chair was a hand-me-down from a friend. She knew his brass headboard had been. ‘It couldn’t have been Dylan or Alexis. They were upstairs.’

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ Linda said. ‘I was at the shelter.’

  Mandy frowned at her friend. Why did Linda feel the need to mention that? She’d barely known Ryan.

  Linda took out her phone. ‘Let’s do a search on psychic pets.’ She typed for a minute while Mandy refilled her wine glass.

  ‘Any answers?’

  ‘Not really. Cats seem to have an edge.’

  ‘Do I want to have a cat who can see ghosts? I’d rather the ghosts left us alone.’

  ‘I’d rather the ghosts did the packing,’ Linda said. ‘What’s going to happen to the furniture?’

  ‘Jasmine is paranoid. She wants everything boxed up, even Ryan’s personal items. But she’s going to have to pay someone and rent a truck to get his furniture out of here.’

  ‘It’s all his?’

  Mandy nodded. ‘Everything in here and in the bedroom and bath is absolutely his. The hallway, laundry and furnace areas are mine, but Cory took everything in here, even that breakfront that belonged to my grandmother. I didn’t argue because it was so ugly.’

  ‘You aren’t supposed to care if family heirlooms are ugly.’

  ‘This one was really bad. Her uncle had hand-carved it, and he wasn’t an expert wood artist, to say the least. Every time I opened the cabinet doors I got a splinter, even sixty years after it had been made.’

  Linda laughed. ‘Poor old uncle.’

  Mandy forced herself to stand and place a small box next to the stack of magazines on the battered coffee table. ‘Thanks for helping me. It’s much less spooky when I’m not alone.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll take the posters down from the wall. I think I have one box big enough for them.’

  ‘I cannot imagine what she’ll do with all this stuff,’ Mandy muttered, dropping old copies of Sports Illustrated and other reading material into the smaller box. ‘I’d better grab some bubble wrap for his iPad. That’s probably the most valuable thing in here.’

  Linda dropped a football poster into her box and rolled the putty that had held it to the wall into her hands. ‘What about his coin collection?’

  Mandy came over to the bookshelf. She pointed to a trio of see-through plastic boxes. ‘He’s been collecting old and foreign pennies since we were kids. But I doubt they’re worth anything.’

  ‘What about these?’ Linda picked up a couple of rolls of quarters. ‘Were you running a coin laundry?’

  ‘Ha, no.’ Mandy stared at the rolls in Linda’s hand. ‘If only he’d been holding a couple of those. He could have fought back.’ Tears pricked her eyes.

  Linda set down the coins and gathered Mandy into a hug. ‘I know it’s hard, sweetie. It’s going to take a while.’

  ‘Who killed Ryan?’ Mandy asked. ‘What could possibly have happened down here?’

  EIGHT

  After a Sunday spent hunched over her iPad, designing sticker sets, then seated at her computer, loading up said sticker sets for sale and finishing up her ‘Plan With Me’ video with a fanned-out photo of the new stickers, Monday at the hospital felt like a vacation. Only an eight-hour day! With lunch and ten-minute breaks! Sometimes the side hustle fel
t more like slave labor than an actual paying job, even with a supervisor.

  Having said that, both gigs needed to bring in income, or she would lose her house. Packing up Ryan’s things had reminded Mandy that she wasn’t receiving any income from a tenant, and having Cory around made it clear he had no intention of paying child support. If he ever went back to work, she’d have his wages garnished, but she couldn’t count on anyone but herself for the bills.

  ‘Doctor O’Hottie’s coming,’ Kit whispered to her mid-morning. ‘I’ll get out of your way so you can flirt.’

  The room spun a little bit as Mandy was hit by a wave of anxiety. ‘I don’t remember how. You can have him.’

  Kit batted her eyelashes and gave Mandy a gentle push toward the counter. ‘He only wants you, princess.’

  Too late. Dr O’Halloran stood front and center at the counter. His gaze danced down Mandy’s front and looked quizzical. Uh oh. Had the girls gone crooked thanks to her aversion to underwire that morning? Mandy glanced down and saw a long black streak on her apron.

  ‘Oh,’ she winced. ‘The chocolate syrup got away from me on that last mocha.’

  The doctor pushed dark blond wisps off his forehead, displaying his manly brow. ‘Better than blood. You wouldn’t want to know what I had all over my surgical scrubs this morning.’

  ‘Early start?’

  ‘Afraid so. One of my patients needed emergency surgery at four this morning. Quad shot, please.’

  ‘You got it.’ She grinned at him and flashed four fingers at Kit, who put her hand to the espresso machine. ‘Sorry, there’s no hero discount.’

  He chuckled. ‘The employee discount will do, Mandy. How was your weekend?’

  ‘Sixteen-hour day on my social media business, but I had a full night of sleep, so I can’t complain.’

  ‘How is that working out for you?’

  ‘I’m a two-income household in the form of just me,’ she said, running a hand down her body like a game-show model displaying a new washer and dryer.

  ‘Art is good for the soul.’ The doctor ran his card over the scanner. ‘I painted models in high school. It trained me for detail work.’