An Old Witches Tale
Page 5
“How’s your mom doing, after she heard about Joe’s death?” Fae asked to start the conversation.
Willie shrugged. “She cut off ties many years ago after he screwed up when I was still a kid. He was never a part of our lives. Then, about two weeks ago, he tracked her down and called her up. She told me he wanted to meet and talk to her about something, but she never responded, preferring to let bygones be bygones. We wouldn’t have known he was working here if he hadn’t called.”
“Were you with your mom when he called?” Fae asked.
Willie shook his head. “No. I work on the oil rigs at sea. I haven’t been home in over six months. I only came home recently, and she told me he’d called.”
“Do you know what he and your mom talked about? Was your father in some sort of trouble?”
Willie ignored Fae’s question and got up. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have to go speak to the police and pick up my father’s things.” Without saying anything more, he walked off in the direction of the main entrance. When he strode back to his car carrying a box half an hour later, he looked past them without greeting.
“Oil workers are making good money these days,” Fae said, gazing at the Lexus as it sped off and exited the gates.
“Either that, or he’s come into some money recently,” Blaise said.
Fae grunted. “I don’t think he’s telling the truth at all. I have a hunch he saw Joe before he was murdered. Joe’s body’s hardly gone cold and he’s driving a millionaire’s car. If you ask me, a few life insurance policies paid out, just in time when he needed new wheels.”
Dinah poured everyone a new cup of tea. “Maybe Joe knew his life was in danger and told them about it. Perhaps he expected to die.”
“Come on, now, it’s as clear as daylight,” Fae said, adding to the speculation. “Joe told Willie and his mother he’d been feeling guilty about ditching them and had changed his will to benefit both of them. Then, knowing there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow if he died, Willie decided to help him along and offed him. I’m certain I’ve seen him around before.”
“Sounds like the stuff murder thrillers are made of,” Dinah said and shivered. “Hopefully we get to see Joe’s ex-wife at the memorial service, and she’ll have a perfectly logical explanation. We’re probably way off the mark, thinking they’re involved with his death.”
“If she’s anything like young Willie, she’ll clam up the moment we get too close for comfort,” Fae said. “We should mix up a few drops of Truth Tonic in case she needs a little encouragement to talk.”
“Definitely a good idea,” Blaise said, taking a flyer from her pocket and putting her reading glasses on. “I picked this up at the reception desk. It’s an announcement that Joe’s memorial service will be held the day after tomorrow.” She passed it on to the other two to read. “I agree it’s an unlikely coincidence, and that these two most probably had something to do with Joe’s death. It’s our responsibility to get to the bottom of it.”
The Shady Pastures chapel on the far side of the duck pond was a constant hive of activity, seven days a week. When the silver hearse carrying Joe Humberton’s last remains arrived shortly after eight in the morning, it had to join a line of three other hearses waiting to deliver their cargo to funeral services lined up for the day. The first scheduled was for nine in the morning, and the last for the day was due to start at four in the afternoon, according to the list of daily funerals pinned to the notice board at the reception desk.
The stone-built gothic-design chapel was small and intimate inside. The architects who had drawn up the floor plan fifty years before had estimated ten pews on each side of the aisle were adequate. They were right. Most of Shady Pine’s residents only had a handful of friends and close family left by the time it was their turn to lie in a shiny box at the front of the chapel. To date, no funeral ceremony had filled up the chapel.
Joe’s memorial service was different.
A soft, incessant rain had been falling steadily since the previous evening, leaving puddles of dirty water along the cobbled pathway leading from the Shady Pastures main building to the chapel. Despite the rain and the hazards it caused, dozens of Shady Pastures’ residents began shuffling their way to the chapel long before the service was due to start. The parking lot was already full more than half an hour before the advertised time. Extra chairs were brought in to ensure all the funeral-goers had a seat inside. Fifteen minutes before the service was due to begin, a gazebo was hastily erected for those who couldn’t secure a seat inside.
Fae, Dinah and Blaise arrived early enough to grab seats next to the organ, at the upstairs gallery of the chapel. Fae had made the suggestion to sit there before they’d left for the chapel. All had agreed it was an ideal lookout point from which to see who attended the funeral.
They were, in particular, on the lookout for Willie Humberton and his mother.
“I never knew Joe had such a huge fan club,” Fae whispered as she surveyed the congregation seated below them. “At most funerals, it’s only the family and friends who believe they’re written into the will that attend these affairs.” She pointed to a lady wearing a wide-brimmed hat decorated with yellow daisies. “Even Mrs. Yankelich is here, poor thing. I admire her courage to be in Joe’s presence again after he ended up dead in her room.”
“There’s the Drake family, second row from the front,” Blaise whispered back. “Do you see the Drake boy anywhere?” “The Drake boy” was Hank, the couple’s wayward son who’d recently moved into an attic room at the old age home, and who kept mostly to himself. She screwed up her eyes, looking for Brenda’s son, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The organ softly played Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 3, a piece of classical music Joe had loved, while everyone took their seats. As the organist played the last few notes, Pastor Sullivan entered, accompanied by a man and a woman searching for open seats.
Dinah gestured frantically to the two, mouthing the name “Willie.” He was dressed in an ill-fitting suit and looked uncomfortable. He glanced up momentarily but immediately returned his attention to the woman at his side, a tall, slim woman dressed in black and wearing delicate satin gloves and a netted veil, also black. Pastor Sullivan led them to the front row and spoke briefly to those seated there. They promptly moved up to make space for the two.
“The black widow and her son are in the house,” Fae said out of the corner of her mouth, just loud enough for Blaise and Dinah to hear above the organ music. Looking at the pair, she wouldn’t have guessed they were family. Willie’s rough exterior and tousled hair were in sharp contrast to his mother’s delicate, fine features and fair skin.
“Let us pray,” Pastor Sullivan began as the music died down. The sermon that followed the prayer was given from the heart, and Fae listened attentively. Joe had been a friend of the pastor too, as well as a regular churchgoer, so his message was intimate and personal. Soon there wasn’t a dry eye in the chapel, including among those seated on the gallery.
“Is there anyone here today who’d like to say goodbye to Joe and speak of their friendship with Joe Humberton?” Pastor Sullivan asked after the final hymn had been sung.
“Now we’ll see what Mrs. Humberton and Junior have to say for themselves,” Blaise said, but the two figures downstairs remained seated. One after the other, Shady Pastures residents stood up and spoke highly of Joe’s generosity and kindness. The last to speak was Professor Kilmore, with whom Joe had spent hours playing chess in the sunny verandah beside the front entrance. He was finishing off his eulogy when a soft moan came from the front row.
“Joe… Joe… Joe!”
The moan grew into a heart-rending, drawn-out wail that reverberated through the chapel. Everyone present craned their necks to see who it was. Then Brenda got up, went over to the coffin in the front and threw her arms around it. As she sobbed and cried, a stony-faced Mr. Drake got up behind her and guided her away from the coffin, down the aisle and out the door.
“I know that some of you have traveled a long way here, so there’ll be refreshments served in the Shady Pastures tea room now. You’re all welcome to join.” The congregation got up and started leaving the chapel.
“Well, what do you make of that?” Fae asked as the three witches made their way to the tea room. “Joe was a good fella, but the way Brenda carried on back there, you’d have sworn he was some sort of rock star.”
“I spoke to Myrna after breakfast, and she’d heard that Joe left everything to his ex-wife and Willie in his will,” Dinah said, throwing water on the rumor mill once again. “Willie must be expecting to come into some money, now that his old man’s out of the way.”
The other two nodded in agreement.
“Let’s go see if we can figure out what ex-Mrs. Humberton and Willie are all about,” Fae said as they entered the tea room. “There they are, over there in the corner. Let’s go talk to them.”
“Shall we take them tea with a few drops of truth serum to help them remember why they’re here?” Blaise asked, pointing at her purse. “I have some right here.”
“No, let’s hold back for the moment,” Fae said. “Sometimes those drops can have unintended consequences, so first let’s hear what they have to say.”
Contrary to Fae’s expectation, Joe’s ex-wife had soft, friendly eyes and broke into a soft smile as she approached. She made direct eye contact and seemed relieved someone was coming over to talk to them. She certainly didn’t look like the type of person who would conspire to get her hands on her ex-husband’s money.
“We were good friends of your ex-husband,” Fae said after introducing herself. “We wanted to express our condolences.”
“It was a case of serendipity,” Gail said. “Joe called me some time ago, out of the blue. I hadn’t seen him since he went to prison so many years ago. And then for him to die so suddenly…” She swallowed hard.
Fae drew her breath in sharply. That didn’t jibe with her image of Joe.
“What? Joe spent time in jail?”
Gail nodded. “Yes. He was sentenced to five years in prison for fraud.” She paused, swallowing away tears. “When we got married, Joe was a rising star at one of the large multinational accounting firms. He was a sensitive soul and not cut out for the stress that sort of work comes with. Soon after our wedding, he began drinking too much and coming home late, or not at all. I thought having a child would fix things, but it didn’t. One day, not long after Willie was born, he left the house as usual in the morning, but he never returned. Shortly after that, the police came around looking for him. He’d embezzled funds from his firm and had gone on the run after being found out. I was shattered. He was no longer the man I’d married. I wanted a stable home for Willie, and that wasn’t possible unless Joe sorted himself out. So I divorced him, put the sorry episode behind me and remarried. The man I married is a wonderful husband and father to Willie. I did the right thing.”
“Willie told us Joe had called you recently to reconnect?” Fae ventured.
Gail hesitated. “Well, he called, yes. It sounded like he’d turned his life around and was once again the old Joe I fell in love with. He wanted to meet, and I reluctantly agreed, after speaking to my husband, who said it would be a good idea to mend old grudges. However, before we could—”
“And that’s how you happen to conveniently inherit everything,” a sarcastic woman’s voice spoke behind them.
Fae turned to see who had so rudely interrupted the conversation. Her face soured when she saw the purple-haired woman next to her. False eyelashes weighed her eyelids down, and her makeup was streaked. She was swaying slightly and slurred her words.
“Oh, it’s you, Petula,” Fae said, making no effort to hide the distaste in her voice. “I take it you know Gail and Willie.” She jerked her head in Petula’s direction. “Gail, Willie, this is Petula, Joe’s girlfriend.”
“Ex-fiancée, thank you very much. I’m the dumped girl, pleased to meet you. I’m the one he conveniently sidelined when his guilty conscience started catching up with him.” Petula eyed Gail with venom. “So, tell me, you two, how much are you inheriting?”
Gail shifted around uncomfortably. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. The insurance policies he took out when we were married had long since lapsed. The bank statements we obtained showed he didn’t even have enough to pay for his funeral. My husband kindly agreed to contribute to cover the cost. Aside from a few personal effects, Joe had nothing.”
Petula glared at Gail and Willie from under her eyelashes. “Well, whatever.” Her voice started breaking up. “He wanted you back, and to do that, he left me in the lurch.” Gail shook her head, looking hurt, but Petula continued her hissy fit.
“Before you came along, he promised he was going to marry me. He even bought me this.” She held out her hand, which had a golden band on the ring finger. “I could’ve killed him for ditching me like a useless toy, the…the—” She stepped forward, but a firm male hand grabbed hold of her shoulder.
“Everything okay here?” a tall, well-groomed man in a sharp black suit asked, gently maneuvering Petula back before giving Gail a peck on the cheek and squeezing Willie’s shoulder. “Sorry I’m a little late, darling. I got stuck in bad traffic.”
Gail looked relieved at being rescued, and her warm smile returned. “Everyone, this is my husband, Tony Alworth. Tony, these three ladies are dear friends of Joe’s.” She linked arms with Tony on her one side, and Willie on the other. “Well, it was great to meet you.” She hesitated and looked at Fae, as if she wanted to talk to her some more. But Tony gave them all a courteous nod and walked off, taking his family with him.
Fae pursed her lips and folded her arms as she looked at Petula, who was wiping away the tears on her cheeks with her sleeve.
“I could’ve killed him. Not a very wise choice of words under the circumstances, Petula.” Fae took a step closer to the inebriated woman. “Exactly what were you thinking, making a scene in front of everyone?”
Petula accepted the tissue Dinah offered her and loudly blew her nose. “Well, the bastard got what he deserved,” she sniffed. “Good riddance, if you ask me.”
“I think it’s best you leave before you upset more people,” Dinah said before they all turned away to go refill their teacups, leaving Petula by herself.
Chapter Five
“The name of Gail’s husband rings a bell,” Blaise said as the witches were on their way to lunch after Joe’s funeral service. “Isn’t he the owner of the Alworth Saw Mill Company? The same guy who also breeds horses on that fancy-looking ranch outside Fennelmoore?”
“Might well be,” Fae said. “He looked like a classy guy with cash to burn. That probably explains where the money came from for Willie’s fancy ride. I guess we’ll never know why Joe contacted her, but it doesn’t look like she had anything financial to gain from his death.” She frowned. “But I’m so sure I’ve seen Willie around here before. Does he have something to hide?”
“He may have been angry with Joe for abandoning him. They had an altercation, and the worst happened,” Blaise said.
They hung back and waited for Dinah, who was paging through a glossy brochure.
“Looks like someone here’s off to the Caribbean on a first-class cruise,” Dinah said. “Look at these wonderful photographs.” She showed them images of luxury ship cabins. “Someone’s retirement fund must’ve paid out.”
“I could do with a vacation in the Caribbean,” Fae said. “Where’d you find it? Maybe we can ask whoever’s planning to go to take us along.”
Dinah shrugged. “I found it on the floor in the dining room. Someone here must’ve dropped it. We’ll have to look out for a person with a dreamy smile and a suntan. Claptrap takes Brenda on a cruise every year, doesn’t he?”
“Speaking of money,” Fae said, stopping in her tracks, “I know
exactly who can tell us whether Joe had returned to his old habit of skimming cash from the till. You ladies go on to the dining room without me—I have someone to go speak to.” Without explaining further, she took a sharp turn into the passage that led to Shady Pastures’ administration offices.
Shady Pastures’ administrative section sat in a separate wing of the building complex. The administrators who worked there hardly ever came into contact with the residents. They were largely an anonymous bunch, referred to by the residents as “the people from finance” or “the guys from admissions.” But there was one person from administration who Fae had come to know a little, after she’d cured his sneezing with an allergy concoction. His name was Stanley Ellis, a lanky forty-something man who served as the old age home’s accountant—and looked the part.
Stanley was focusing on a large spreadsheet printout laid out on his desk when Fae announced herself at his door with a loud knock. He winced and fumbled to remove his reading glasses. After seeing it was Fae standing at the entrance, he smiled and got up.
“Hello, Mrs. Whitewood. Please come inside. What brings you to the dungeons of administration this beautiful morning?” He pulled up a chair for her, and for a few minutes the two exchanged pleasantries about their families. Stanley was a married father of two sons, whom his wife was homeschooling, and he often regaled her with stories of their hiking trips and road trip vacations. In turn, he loved listening to the entertaining stories Fae told about her whimsical family in Fennelmoore.
She glanced around his office. It was a typical accountant’s office. The walls were lined with shelves filled with binders filled with accounts, statements and invoices. His desk was stacked with papers. Two framed photos of his family stood prominently beside his telephone.
“So nice to see you at Joe’s funeral this morning,” Fae said. “A big loss for us, isn’t it?”
Stanley’s face dropped. “Yes, very sad. Joe was an outstanding employee. We’re going to struggle to replace him with another man of his high caliber. Hopefully the police will apprehend his killer soon.”