Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

  ‘I want to be buried,’ she told Vellum. ‘I should buy a plot now and pay for it on installment.’

  ‘But if you get married again you might want to be buried with your husband.’

  ‘How about a family plot?’ she suggested.

  ‘I can think of better ways to spend our money.’

  Mandy poked her daughter’s leg. ‘Don’t want to spend eternity next to your boring old mom, huh.’

  ‘I might marry a billionaire who has his own cemetery,’ Vellum explained. ‘On the moon.’

  ‘Would I get to join you?’

  ‘Only if you’re cremated like Ryan,’ Vellum said, hitting buttons on her phone to bring up a new song. ‘I suppose they can tuck you in at my feet.’

  ‘Nah. I’ll take a nice raised stone. I don’t care if it’s wasteful.’

  ‘Would you like a weeping angel statue too?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Vellum sang along to the song she was streaming. Mandy blinked back tears, though from laughter or sorrow she wasn’t quite sure. She knew she needed to have these conversations, but thirty-six seemed much too early for them. Still, people did die this young. Princess Diana, for instance.

  She shook her head, and wished she could sing along, but she didn’t know the words. ‘Do you still want to be a rock star when you grow up?’

  ‘Ummm, no, Mom.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Vellum rolled her eyes. ‘I’m going to be a business major in college.’

  ‘What about art?’

  ‘You don’t have any training and you’re a good artist. Business is something else. I want a degree and one of those high-end jobs that you can retire from at thirty-five. Then I can have kids and relax.’

  ‘Wow. You have it all figured out, huh?’

  ‘It’s not like I’m deliberately choosing the opposite life to you,’ Vellum said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Mandy said. ‘I hear you. And if you are really sure that’s what you want, don’t let some man persuade you otherwise. Live your life, not his.’

  ‘Is that what you did?’

  ‘I lived inside your father’s fantasy, rather than my reality. I should have paid more attention to the money, so I wouldn’t be in this fix now.’

  ‘Is it really that bad?’

  ‘We’re fine as long as nothing goes wrong. Most people can’t do what we’re doing with Mandy’s Plan.’

  ‘No. People would kill to be in our position after only ten months.’

  Mandy nodded. Had someone done that? Could the journal have been left on the step for her to trip on, the hammer there to finish her off? Had the assailant, Reese perhaps, killed Ryan because he would have died eventually from his injuries?

  She’d stayed on the arterials rather than entering the clogged, rainy freeway. They sped past endless fast-food restaurants, big box stores, and streets snaking off into residential areas. She remembered where they had gone to say goodbye to her father, and made the turn easily. Then they were pulling into a surprisingly small parking lot. She saw her mother stepping out of her car with her sister-in-law, Ryan’s mother. Her aunt looked diminished, like she’d lost a lot of weight since Mandy had seen her during the holidays.

  Mandy parked in the first spot she saw and hurried Vellum out of the car to join their family. She didn’t want the older women to be alone in their grief. It didn’t seem like there were any men left in this family, at least not in the Seattle area.

  An hour and a half later, the brief family-only visitation and open memorial had ended. Despite Mandy’s closeness to Ryan, she hadn’t been asked to participate. An extremely elderly uncle of her father’s, whom she hadn’t seen since that funeral, read a poem in a shaking voice, and her aunt gave the eulogy. Jasmine sang the song ‘Hallelujah’ at the end. Few of the attendees teared up, but Mandy and Vellum both did.

  The guests had been invited to a reception in another room in lieu of a graveside service. Mandy saw Dylan and Alexis corner Jasmine within ten minutes of the doors opening. She winced, wondering what the pair were still after, and what it might have to do with his murder.

  Making sure her daughter was comfortable chatting with the teenagers who belonged to Ryan’s mother’s side of the family, Mandy crept toward Ryan’s friends, hoping to overhear the conversation.

  ‘No, you cannot have his coin collection,’ Jasmine snapped. ‘I don’t care if you helped him build it.’

  ‘But it has no value,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Just sentimental,’ Alexis added in her low rumble of a voice.

  ‘I’m taking every cent to the bank,’ Jasmine said. ‘Who do you think is paying for this funeral? I had to put it on an installment plan.’

  ‘Just the pennies, then?’ Dylan said hopefully.

  ‘Not. One. Cent,’ Jasmine hissed. ‘Where did all his money go? He didn’t have a car payment. He lived in a freaking basement.’

  ‘He drank very expensive liquor,’ Dylan said with a smile.

  ‘The best vodka.’ Alexis smacked her lips.

  ‘I thought his drinking was under control,’ Jasmine said. ‘Mandy promised me he was doing better.’

  The pair shrugged in unison, just as Jasmine glanced up and saw Mandy hovering.

  Her cousin’s eyes narrowed. ‘You as good as killed him!’ she shrieked.

  Mandy stepped back, as if the words were a physical blow. ‘That’s absurd!’

  ‘He probably owed someone money,’ Jasmine yelled. ‘He probably got killed over a loan. It’s your fault! You should have been honest about what was going on!’

  ‘Nothing was going on,’ Mandy protested. ‘He paid his rent on time. I talked to him every day.’ She paused, unable to deny she’d missed so many things. The lovers. The drug use.

  Vellum ran up and put her arm around her waist protectively. ‘My mom was good to Ryan. You need to back off.’

  Jasmine raised a finger and pointed it at Vellum’s nose, then stepped closer. Just then, Jasmine’s mother and aunt arrived. Her mother took Jasmine’s arm, and Barbara put her hand on Vellum’s shoulder.

  ‘Let’s get you home,’ Barbara told her granddaughter. ‘Valentine’s Day traffic is terrible.’

  Jasmine sneered at Mandy as her mother steered her away, saying, ‘Let’s get you a drink, dear.’

  No wonder Ryan had developed a drinking problem. She made a mental note to tell her aunt to intervene before Jasmine took the coins to a bank. Was it possible that he had some valuable coins in his collection?

  Mandy turned away from Dylan and Alexis, examining the guests. Most of the forty or so people there were from Ryan’s maternal side, not related or known to her part of the Meadows family. She tried to talk to her great-uncle, but he was hard of hearing. No one had come from work, not even Kit. She would have thought Scott would feel obligated to come, but maybe since Ryan was about to be fired, he couldn’t be bothered. At that moment, even Crystal Roswell would have been a welcome sight, but Jasmine wouldn’t have known to invite her.

  Mandy decided it was time to leave.

  When she pulled into her driveway an hour later, a text appeared from her mother saying she and Vellum were going to order pizza and watch a movie.

  She climbed out of her car, exposing far more of herself than she wished to a stiff breeze in her short skirt.

  ‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ Linda called from behind her.

  Mandy turned and saw her neighbor with a Pyrex baking dish. More brownies, exactly what she needed after a funeral.

  As if pulled in by the treats, Reese appeared behind Linda.

  ‘I have come here to bury Caesar, not to praise him,’ Mandy said, quoting Shakespeare.

  A twinkle appeared in Linda’s eye. ‘The evil that men do is remembered after their deaths, but the good is often buried with them.’

  ‘Umm,’ Reese said. ‘I haven’t read that play since sophomore year.’

  ‘Vellum had the audio playing a few days ago in the kitchen. She’s doing it in school,’
Mandy explained, grabbing her purse from the back seat.

  ‘How was the funeral?’ Linda asked.

  ‘Like any funeral. Jasmine called me a murderer.’

  ‘Oh my,’ Reese said, eyes sparkling. ‘Want to go get Chinese food? It’s so early we can probably get in no problem.’

  Mandy glanced at the brownie dish. ‘Lock it in my trunk and we’ll go.’

  Linda handed it to her and thrust her arms into the coat she’d just thrown over her shoulders. Mandy unlocked the doors and dropped the brownie dish in the trunk. The trio got in and she drove them to Snappy Dragon, a local institution a few blocks away on Roosevelt.

  Mandy glanced at her phone as they walked in. ‘I can’t believe it’s just before five.’

  ‘Funerals make for a long day,’ Linda soothed, rubbing her back.

  ‘Was there a bunch of sobbing exes there?’ asked Reese, after she spoke to the woman at the desk.

  ‘Just Dylan and Alexis, following Jasmine around, asking for Ryan’s coin collection again.’

  ‘What’s that all about?’ Reese asked.

  ‘I’m convinced loose change isn’t what they’re after. Like, maybe, Ryan was buying antique coins instead of drugs,’ Mandy suggested. ‘They aren’t wasting all this time to get pennies.’

  ‘Even a roll of quarters has value,’ Linda pointed out.

  ‘Yeah, but in the end, Dylan wanted to get his hands on the pennies. Strange, huh?’

  ‘Can you talk your cousin into giving you a look at the pennies?’ Linda asked.

  ‘I doubt it. She called me a murderer,’ Mandy said. ‘Maybe the police can get a warrant for them? Except, how would they do that?’

  ‘They’re the police,’ Reese said.

  ‘No, I mean how would they justify asking for it. They had full access to the coins at the start and didn’t find anything.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Linda said. ‘Manpower is limited.’

  Their server appeared and took them to a table. Mandy ordered asparagus in black bean sauce and a tofu clay pot stew. Reese chose another stew with seafood, and Linda went more traditional with salt and pepper chicken.

  ‘What do you guys think about funeral etiquette?’ Mandy asked. ‘Should his boss have been there? What about his last serious girlfriend?’

  ‘Your neighbors?’ Linda suggested warily.

  Mandy sighed. ‘I’m not calling you out for not coming, Linda. You had your shift at the animal shelter today.’

  ‘His supervisor was Scott Nelson, right?’ Reese asked. At Mandy’s nod, she said, ‘He’s not Mister Friendly. I doubt he’d bother. I heard he was better before his wife left him, but now he’ll chew people out if they’re to blame for overloading outlets, banging up walls or anything, really.’

  Mandy pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘I know he didn’t like Ryan, and it’s not like there weren’t people there, but once my mom and daughter left, it was like there was no one there for me. Mostly relatives of his on the other side of the family.’

  ‘You could have asked me to go,’ Reese said.

  ‘Did you know Ryan?’ Mandy asked bluntly. ‘Did you remember spending time in my basement after all?’

  ‘I … no,’ Reese said. ‘I mean, I knew he was your cousin from seeing him at your house. I said hi a few times.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Mandy said, and decided to change the subject. ‘Did you decide on a March theme?’

  Linda ignored her attempt to redirect the conversation. ‘I wonder how Ryan had so many hookups and lovers and none of us have anyone.’

  ‘What happened to George Lowry?’ Mandy asked. ‘I haven’t seen him since he pulled out my car dent with a crowbar.’

  The server delivered their pot of tea. Reese poured them each a steaming cup of oolong before Linda responded.

  ‘He went to Hawaii for a couple of weeks.’ Linda rolled her eyes. ‘These couple of weeks, around Valentine’s Day.’

  ‘Did he send flowers?’ Reese asked.

  ‘Not even a text.’ Linda pantomimed holding her phone. ‘I could text. I could sext, even.’

  Mandy chuckled, imagining the rotund, retired dentist. ‘With George Lowry?’

  ‘But then there was Ryan. His looks weren’t entirely ruined,’ Reese said reflectively, picking up her teacup.

  ‘He smelled wrong,’ Linda said. ‘That hot, yeasty alcoholic smell.’

  ‘What if he was a drug dealer?’ Mandy asked suddenly. ‘That would attract people to him.’

  ‘He’d have more money,’ Linda said.

  ‘He wouldn’t be living with a prude like you,’ Reese added. ‘You’d have noticed all the visitors he would have, probably late at night.’

  Mandy shook her head. ‘He could just deal at the hospital. I’ve heard someone is.’

  ‘No money,’ Linda said again. ‘He’d have had a stash if he was dealing. It’s a cash economy.’

  ‘Someone did break in, maybe, after he died. I can’t be sure the murder weapon had been there all along, given where I found it. Maybe someone did steal hidden cash.’

  ‘It’s gone now, if there ever was any,’ Reese said.

  Reese might have wanted Mandy’s business, but she didn’t need cash. Still, Mandy wanted to be clear, even if she wasn’t certain, that no money remained in the house. After all, she had the gnawing sense that the murderer was someone close to her world. But how close? An actual friend? Or a frenemy?

  FOURTEEN

  Mandy went to her mother’s house on Sunday morning. The trio ate a quick breakfast and tried hard not to revisit the memorial service drama.

  ‘Are we going to livestream?’ Vellum asked as they dashed across the street.

  It had warmed up a little and Mandy found it bittersweet to consider the coming of a spring that Ryan would never enjoy.

  ‘Sounds good to me. I’d rather do that than shoot a video that we have to edit.’

  ‘Let’s make sure to use stickers so we have a bump in shop sales.’

  ‘Great idea. In fact, let’s take a look at our orders. We have an hour before our usual livestream time.’ On Sundays, lots of vloggers went on live camera with their fans on the social media sites. Fans could watch and work along with them as they set up their journals for the week. They could also comment live, which was great for suggestions but bad for concentration.

  ‘Do you need a quick manicure first?’ Vellum asked, as they hung their coats in the mudroom. ‘I did my nails last night.’

  ‘It always seems to come last on my list,’ Mandy admitted.

  ‘Let’s check our orders, get them printing and cutting, and then we’ll do your nails quickly after that,’ Vellum suggested.

  ‘Look at you. So organized,’ Mandy said. ‘I think you might be right about belonging in business school.’

  Vellum grinned. ‘I can’t decide if I want to be the CEO of a massive business, or be an entrepreneur and build my own massive business.’

  ‘The path will become clear in time, tadpole,’ Mandy said with a mysterious air.

  ‘Funny, Mom. Well, not really.’ She took Mandy’s arm and pulled her into the art studio.

  Mandy opened her computer while Vellum went to choose manicure supplies. Mandy’s Plan did have orders, but most of the requests were sticker sheets she had ready, like the snowflakes she’d designed for January and the cacti she’d done for February. After jotting down what she needed on an inventory sheet, she set the cacti sheets to print to one printer and the customer address labels to another. Finally, she went to the plastic racks in the dining room to start assembling.

  As the pages came off the printer, she set up the cutting machines so they could follow the specifications she’d set up to make the stickers lift easily from the backing paper. Sticker creation was a bit more complex than people realized, both in the initial computer setup and then the cutting process. She needed her iPad, her laptop, her printer and her cutting machine to make it all happen, but in the end, order fulfillment took the most time of all. Today, she h
ad twenty orders piled up.

  By the time Vellum returned, she had the label sheets and twenty envelopes spread out on the table. Vellum stamped each of the envelopes with a cute ‘thank you’ rubber stamp and affixed the labels while Mandy switched out the sticker sheets and started assembling orders.

  ‘Did you sign in?’ Mandy asked, reminding Vellum to record her hours worked.

  ‘Oops.’ Vellum dug out her employment record and signed in, then readied the postage meter.

  For the next half hour, they assembled orders. Mandy made an announcement on social media that they were going live at eleven. They finished their orders just in time for Mandy to set up the camera.

  ‘We forgot your nails,’ Vellum fretted.

  ‘Oh, well. Better content than appearance.’ They both sat down and opened their journals. ‘Rats.’ Mandy jumped up again and flipped through their racks, pulling sheets of her new cherry blossom stickers and the lettering sheets that matched the color scheme of those stickers.

  She set one of each page next to them, then said, ‘Ready?’ At Vellum’s nod, she switched on the phone camera.

  Vellum set the computer in place, so they could see the scroll of comments from their viewers.

  ‘Hi everyone!’ She and Vellum waved into the camera. ‘We’re going to set up our spreads for the week. Can you believe it’s Sunday already? I’m sorry we missed last week.’

  ‘Did everyone have a good Valentine’s Day?’ Vellum asked. She made a face. ‘I had pizza with Grandma.’

  ‘I had Chinese with girlfriends,’ Mandy said. ‘We’re going to be setting up our weekly spreads with our new April stickers. I just love these.’

  ‘I feel like I’m cheating to work with them,’ Vellum said.

  ‘Actually, they are already in our shop, and we just filled our first set of orders,’ Mandy said. ‘So no, we aren’t cheating, you can order these now!’ She held up the sheets, feeling like an infomercial hostess. Still, she had to do these things to make money.

  ‘I love the new garden stake stickers,’ Vellum exclaimed. ‘They came out perfectly.’

  They responded to the comments on the screen as they used their rules to mark out days, lettered headers, and used their stickers judiciously to make everything look colorful and flowery. Just like on the cooking shows, they had to sell their work by squealing how delightful it was at the end, so they did that too. Mandy was certain more sales would pop up on the online shop by the end of their forty-minute livestream.