Entering my room, I started kicking myself. What was I thinking? Why on earth had I agreed to a blind date?
The sky was beautiful the next morning. It was clear blue with not a cloud in sight—a good omen. I was obviously wrong because when I checked my phone, there was a text from Patty: “We’re on for Friday at eight. Fiorella’s. Pat and I will pick you up.” Adding insult to injury, she signed off with a smiley face. Great. When will I learn? Sighing, I woke Jenny up and prepared breakfast. When she sat at the counter, I told her that her math teacher said she was a social butterfly.
“Mom, I don’t socialize too much!” Jenny protested.
“Every single report card my mother saved encouraged me to apply myself more and socialize less. Obviously, I never learned, so you may have a genetic problem.” I smiled. “However, with work, maybe you’ll do better than me and overcome it.”
Jenny relaxed. “I’ll try harder. Can we go to the lake this weekend?”
“No can do. You’re still grounded.” I winced. “Plus, I have a date on Friday night.”
She perked up. “A date? With whom?”
“Not sure yet. Mrs. Twilliger is setting it up.”
“A blind date?”
“Yes.”
“I have full wardrobe approval.”
Chapter 3
The week flew by. Arriving home on Friday, I smiled. My daughter left four outfits displayed on my bed. Unfortunately, the cats chose two of them to relax on while I was at work. Just in case they were helping me narrow my choices, I neglected to scold them. Selecting the sleeveless black dress—well-toned arms were a side benefit of my exercise regimen—I adorned it with a strand of pearls and a sage-green sweater. Some minor makeup repairs and I was finished. I went downstairs to wait.
Jenny looked up from her book and studied me. “Mom, for a short person who’s fast approaching forty, you look beautiful.” I gave her a dirty look. She laughed. “That sweater matches your eyes. Plus, green looks awesome with your red hair. Nice choice, Mom.”
I curtsied. “Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate it.”
“Where are you going?”
“Fiorella’s.”
“I love their eggplant parm! And their garlic bread is to die for. Hmm. Maybe you should lay off the garlic bread tonight.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t even met the guy yet.”
“Here, take my mints, just in case.” She tossed them to me.
Making a great catch, I slipped them into my purse. “Thanks.”
A horn tooted. Jenny said, “Be home early, young lady.”
Tossing a pillow at her, I blew her a kiss and shut the door.
I slid into the backseat. “Are you going to break down and tell me his name before we get to the restaurant?”
She smiled. “His name is Rob Jenson. I didn’t want to tell you before because I knew you would google him.”
“I wouldn’t google him.” I gave her an offended look as I surreptitiously took out my phone and typed in his name.
“Tell the truth. Do you ever not google someone?”
“No, but what are you hiding? Is he a mass murderer? Does he look like Quasimodo?”
“No to both. He’s a reporter, he’s very nice, and he’s cute. Put your phone away; I can see you looking him up.”
Rolling my eyes, I tucked my phone back into my purse. “A reporter? You know how I feel about reporters. You know what they put me through during Drew’s trial.”
“Yes, I do, but it’s time to forget that. It was four years ago, and Rob wasn’t even here.”
I hit her lightly on the shoulder. “It’s very tricky of you to tell me this after I’m already in a moving car.”
“Yes, it is.”
“And it’s a good thing you picked this restaurant, or I’d be really mad.”
“I know.” A smile spread over her face.
We arrived at the restaurant, which was two towns over. The entrance was brightly lit with warm wood tones, but the interior of the restaurant had mood lighting.
“We have reservations under Twilliger,” Patrick said to the hostess.
“The party joining you is at the bar. Would you care to join him, or would you like to be seated?”
Patrick glanced at us. “Why don’t you both be seated, and I’ll bring Rob over?”
Unsuccessful at trying to peer around Patrick to get a glimpse of my date, I gave up and followed Patty and the hostess to our table. Patty carefully sat me next to her facing where Patrick and Rob would come in.
She nodded toward the door. “Just in case you don’t like him we’ll be able to chat more comfortably.” I smiled at her.
Patrick and Rob entered the dining room. Luckily our table was toward the back, so I was able to get a good look at him as they ambled over. He was tall, maybe six feet, and slender. He had wavy blond hair that was cut short and sported a well-manicured mustache. Darn, another weakness of mine—mustaches.
Patty and I stood and shook his hand, and Rob and I introduced ourselves. We exchanged pleasantries and then agreed to study the menu for a moment.
After ordering, Rob turned to me. “So what do you do for a living?”
“I run a property and casualty insurance shop. My job and daughter keep me pretty busy.”
“March. That name seems familiar. Let me see… Wasn’t there a guy named March who embezzled a lot of money from his clients a few years ago? As I remember, his wife got off scot-free. It always seemed a stretch that his wife didn’t know anything about it.”
“That would be me.” I stared daggers at him. “And, regardless of what you and others might think, I didn’t know anything about it. Plus, ex-wife is a better descriptor at this point in time.”
A faint flush rose on his cheeks. “Sorry. I’m always putting my foot in it. I remember things and blurt them out without thinking. As Patrick and Patty may have told you, I’m a reporter, and snippets of information stick with me. I had no idea that was you.”
“Yep, it’s me.” I shifted in my seat. “Do you always offend people within five minutes of meeting them?”
“Not normally. It usually takes me ten.” He waited for a beat. “Just kidding. I hope you accept my apology.”
“Apology accepted, with one caveat.”
“What’s that?”
“No more discussion on that subject.”
“Done.”
Patrick and Patty had been following the conversation like a tennis match. Now that it appeared the combatants had declared a cease fire, they tripped over each other to change the subject. Patty won. “So, Rob, do you have any children?”
Rob smiled. “No. I just haven’t had the time. I reported globally, and although it was exciting, it was hard on relationships. Being a reporter is a lonely business. The travel started off being glamorous, at the end it was just tedious. I met so many people and experienced all sorts of different cultures. The unfortunate part was that it was all transient. I only call a few of the people I met friends. I’m not sorry I opted for my career; it’s just that I feel so fortunate that I had the opportunity to buy the local paper here and set down some roots.
“My hope is to be able to focus on everyday human happenings and to form some lasting friendships.”
The food arrived, and we all ate appreciatively. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. At the end, Rob asked, “May I give you a lift home?”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but it’s probably easier if I just bum a ride with Patrick and Patty.”
“Should I read something into that?” he asked, his eyes questioning.
“No.” I looked at Patrick and Patty. “Ready?”
We shook hands and went to our respective cars. As soon as the doors shut, Patty turned around. “Well?”
“Liked him, but what he said about the money Drew took smarts. Plus, he is a reporter…”
✽ ✽ ✽
The next morning, I threw a load of wash into the machine
and started working out. The doorbell rang, and Jenny answered it. She said a quick “thanks,” and the door slammed. A moment later, she poked her head around the corner. “Guess who got flowers? Someone must have had a good time last night.”
I gave her the look and opened the card: “Sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Please accept my apologies.” It was signed John Gordan. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“Unexpected?”
“The flowers are from your new superintendent of schools.”
“He’s hot.” She gave me a high five. “I didn’t even know you knew each other.”
“We bumped into each other at back-to-school night, literally.”
Thanking her for bringing them in, I recut the flowers and put them in fresh water. Task accomplished, I texted Patty. “Need to talk.”
“Fifteen minutes?”
“I’ll call you.”
After moving the clothes to the dryer, I finished my exercise regimen. Then I called Patty.
“What?” she answered.
“You’ll never guess who sent me flowers.”
“That’s easy: Rob.”
“Nope. John Gordan.”
“Well, isn’t that nice. I thought he wasn’t interested, and as I remember, you told me you weren’t either.”
“Both potentially true, but it was nice he sent the flowers.”
“And?”
“I know. What should I do? If I’m really not interested, I should just send him a nice note thanking him for thinking of me.”
“Is that what you are going to do?”
“No. I’ve been thinking about it, and you’re right. It’s time for me to start going out with people again. And John is one good-looking man. I’m going to call him.”
“Keep me posted, and good luck.” With that, she signed off.
Calling the owner of the flower shop, I asked if she had John’s number.
“You know, I really shouldn’t do this, but since it’s you…” She gave it to me.
Pacing the floor, I worked through what I was going to say and then dialed John. Getting his voice mail, I left a message: “Hi, John, it’s Merry March. I called to thank you for the lovely flowers. If you’d like to talk, please call me back.” I appended my number and hung up the phone.
About five minutes later, the phone rang. “Hello?”
“Is this Merry?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is John Gordan. I wanted to return your call and apologize again, first for knocking you over, and second for talking negatively about your parenting skills. Since the other night, I spoke with Jenny’s teachers, and they all said the hearse incident was a one-off and not indicative of her normal behavior.”
“Thank you for that. And thanks again for the beautiful flowers. I love the combination of daisies and lilies.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to meet me for coffee at some point. I’m still in the middle of settling in, and it would be valuable to get your thoughts on the school system.”
“I’d love to. When would work for you?”
“Does Saturday after next work? Nine thirty?”
“That would be great. I look forward to it. Should we meet at the Morning Pastry? I don’t know if you’ve been there yet, but they have really good coffee.”
“I look forward to seeing you there.”
Chapter 4
Sunday morning, Jenny and I joined the Twilligers for the ten o’clock Mass. Father Tom’s homily centered on respect and care of others, living or dead. Jenny and Cindy slid down in the pew, turning red. After the service, Father Tom told them their penance would be assisting in the next four memorial services. They graciously accepted as Patty and I shot them warning looks.
The next week at work was hectic, and on Wednesday Cheryl knocked on my door. “I hate to interrupt, but someone wants to move their insurance to us.”
“Can’t one of the sales assistants handle it?”
“I guess they could, but he asked for you specifically. And he’s cute.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rob Jenson.”
I smiled. “You better send him in.”
A few moments later, Cheryl ushered Rob in and shut the door after him. I rose to greet him.
“Please have a seat, Rob. It’s nice to see you.”
“I wasn’t sure you would want to see me again after the other night.”
“Why?”
“Well, we got off to a shaky start, and then you decided to leave with the Twilligers instead of me.”
“Is this off the record?”
He grinned. “Of course.”
I shifted in my seat and studied my stapler. “The press was really rough on me four years ago when my ex-husband was arrested and sent to jail. They, like you, had a tough time believing I was unaware of what he was doing. I know it looked bad; after all, I run my own business. But I wasn’t in on his scheme, and the authorities cleared me. I’ve had a sour taste in my mouth about the press ever since.”
Rob turned red. “And I guess when I mouthed off it brought it all back.”
“Yep.”
“Again, I’m sorry, and I apologize for my press brethren as well.”
I straightened and picked up a pen. “What brings you here today?”
“I need to change my auto insurance coverage, and everyone I asked said you were the best. I also wanted to tell you that I’m looking for a home in the nearby area and will need homeowners coverage then too.”
“I can handle that for you and get you a discount. Let’s walk through the paperwork.”
At the end of the transaction, Rob gave me a pensive look. “I’d like to see you again. Any chance?”
“Give me a week or two to think about it.”
“Okay, no pressure. I’ll follow up.” He winked at me as he left.
Later that night, I looked up some of his old news stories. He had a very distinct point of view, one I really liked. Then I looked up the newspaper’s Facebook page. Rob’s story about the standoff between Janet Tomlinson’s cat, Ed Jenkin’s dog, and the stepladder was really amusing, and I had to laugh. Maybe I was being too tough on the guy.
The following Thursday afternoon was the first penance for the girls: Jasmine Elderflower’s funeral. Patty and I sat in the back to observe. They did a great job. They were properly solemn and respectful. After the service, we spoke quietly with some of the family members and offered our condolences. Jasmine died at ninety-five, and her wisdom and kindness had obviously been cherished by those who knew her.
Patty and I left and waited for the girls in my car. After chatting for a while, I glanced at my watch, surprised so much time had passed. Worried, I told Patty, “They should have been here by now.”
The girls appeared and pounded on my door.
Jenny yelled, “Mom, open up. Something terrible happened.”
Patty and I leapt out of the car. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Cindy and I found a body, and Cindy cut her hand.”
“That’s not funny. We know Mrs. Elderflower is dead. What is it with you girls and dead bodies?”
“Mom, it’s not Mrs. Elderflower. It’s someone else, and they’re not moving.”
Patty bent over her daughter. “Cindy, how did you cut your hand?” She grabbed tissues from her purse. “Keep pressure on it. We’ll go to the rectory so I can get a better look.”
“We’ll meet you there.” I turned to Jenny. “Show me where you found the body.” We ran back to the church.
“It was dark. We left through the side door, and we tripped over him,” Jenny sobbed.
We rounded the corner. The outside light was on. Father Tom bent over someone, blocking our view.
I ran up to him. “What happened?”
“It’s the postman, Ben Ford, and he’s dead. I’m going to stay here with him. Go to the rectory and call 911.” Father Tom leaned against the railing to shield the body and to support himself.
�
��Oh my God,” I gasped. “Jenny, let’s go!”
Dialing 911, I ran to the rectory, huffing as I told the dispatcher what happened. Jenny followed close behind me. When we got there, Patty was in the kitchen, holding Cindy’s hand above her head while pressing on it with paper towels to stop the bleeding. Within a minute, we could hear the sirens.
Patty nodded at me. “I think she’s going to need a stitch or two.”
After a few moments, Father Tom joined us in the kitchen.
“Father Tom, do you have a bandage I can use for Cindy’s hand?” Patty asked.
He took a quick look. “I’ll go back out and get one of the EMTs.”
He bustled back in with the EMT, and she confirmed Cindy would need stiches. She took Cindy and Patty into the other room, while we waited in the kitchen.
“Would anyone like some tea?” I asked.
“I think I need something a bit stronger.” Father Tom made a beeline to the cupboard over the refrigerator, took down a bottle of whiskey, and poured himself a small glass. He took a long sip. “The police want us to wait for them in here.” He waved the bottle at me. “Do you want some?”
I took him up on it, as I poured Jenny a cup of tea with plenty of sugar in it.
Patty came back in and opted for whiskey. “He wasn’t that old, only forty-five. I hadn’t heard he had heart trouble. It’s such a shame to die that young.”
Father Tom shuddered. “I may as well tell you. It wasn’t a heart attack. Ben was murdered.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Don’t we have to wait for the coroner or something?”
“I’m fairly certain. He had a large chef’s knife sticking out of his back.”
Jenny gasped. I rushed to reassure her. “I know this is terrible, but the police will get to the bottom of it. I’m sure whoever did this was just passing through.” I shivered. “And I’m sure that person is long gone now.”
The door opened with a bang, and Detective Jay Ziebold entered. “I’m going to have to ask all of you some questions. Who was the first person to find the body?”
Murder So Sinful Page 2