Ice Maiden

by Dale Mayer

  He looked at her curiously.

  “Just a weird feeling,” she said, “but it’s all good.” Then she winced. “I know I said I would go shopping and cook dinner, but the idea of walking around the store with the townsfolk kind of spooked me, considering this being so close to the seventh day.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’m glad you made that choice. We still have lots of leftovers. I was actually looking forward to chicken cordon bleu for dinner anyway.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said. She sat down across from him at the island while he quickly warmed up dinner.

  “I never really did a whole lot of cooking at home,” she said, “so microwaving seems to be the norm for me.”

  “I do cook,” he said, “but, when you’ve got five-star-chef leftovers, it’s kind of hard to turn them down.”

  “I’d never turn them down,” she said immediately. “But then I’ve also been broke a lot.”

  He smiled. “That was before,” he said. “Remember? It’s a whole new day.”

  “Exactly. I want to get into Jerry’s apartment and get to know him,” she said. “I know there’s no rush, but, at the same time, it feels like there is, like the more time that passes from his death, I’m like losing the connection, you know?”

  “Again, contact the lawyer,” he said. “I highly doubt there’s any issue.”

  “No, but doesn’t it go through a legal process first?”

  “Sure, but the store will keep functioning. You’re the owner and the only employee of the store, so I don’t see why Nathan can’t give you a key to the apartment.”

  “I can ask,” she said. As soon as the hot steaming plate was placed in front of her, she immediately pulled it closer and sniffed the air above it. “It smells wonderful,” she said. He handed her a knife and fork, and the two of them sat down together. As they ate, they talked about what had happened and what to do about it.

  She said, “The priority is tonight or the wee hours of the morning, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he said in a sober tone. “But since we have no idea if these murders are even connected to those from thirty years ago, much less the specifics on any potential victims or suspects, it doesn’t really make any sense to me yet.”

  “Unless we solve it first,” she said impulsively.

  “Wouldn’t that be lovely?” he said. “But I don’t have any answers for you,” he added.

  “No, but my mother does,” she said.

  “Right, but she’s not talking.”

  Just then they heard a noise in the house. Like the sound of something falling.

  “Yikes, maybe she is,” Gabby said with a chuckle.

  Damon had gotten up to check out the source of the sound. “Uh, Gabby, you want to come back here?”

  Frowning, she headed down the hallway toward the sound of his voice. She found him in a bathroom, where he stared at the mirror. The surface was all steamed up, and words had been written on it.

  I was murdered. Fendster.

  “What the hell?” Gabby asked.

  “Did you see anyone?” Damon asked her.

  “No. Uh, Damon, I don’t think there was anyone to see.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the mirror is all steamed up, but the shower is dry. The sink is dry. Where did the steam come from?”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I think it was her, … my mother.”

  “Jesus,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

  “What is Fendster? Is that a name of a person?”

  “Afraid so. I hate to say it, but my captain’s first name is Fendster. Fendster Meyer.”

  “Do you think he could have killed Andrea?” she asked bluntly.

  “I won’t say no,” he said, “because I think, under particular circumstances, everybody is capable of killing, but I don’t know what the motivation would have been or why would he have gone on to kill four more.”

  “We’re assuming he killed four more, but it could be that somebody else did the rest. Like a copycat murderer, trying to hide his actions, under the guise of the suspected murderer.” She paused, tilted her head. “Or possession comes to mind. Again.”

  “Yeah,” he said with an audible sigh. “But what are the odds of that really?”

  “Meaning, how many murders does a town like this have in two weeks?”

  “I’d have to check the database for that average. But don’t forget that Andrea was considered to be an accidental death. Murders are rare here. Accidental deaths aren’t that common either, but, given we’re a ski resort, they do occur.”

  “Now, she was apparently killed,” she said, pointing at the mirror. “We still don’t know how she died.”

  “No, that’s quite true,” he said, raising his gaze to look at her. “What would cause somebody to jump off a cliff like that and have it look like she went flying, yet have it still be murder?”

  “What if she was given a drug?” she asked quietly. “Something to make her think that was the completely safe and normal thing to do.”

  “Like a hallucinogenic of some kind?”

  “That’s one answer,” she said. “Or consider the opposite. Something that would make her supremely depressed.”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, “but it’s an interesting conundrum. So who would have given her the drugs?”

  “Well, of course, my mind immediately goes to her husband, except I wouldn’t blame Jerry directly.”

  “True,” he said thoughtfully. “In which case, no justice to be had there, so why did Andrea come back?”

  “And then we’re assuming she’s come back because of that, to get justice or revenge or whatever.”

  “But that makes more sense now,” he said. “She said that she was murdered and mentioned Fendster.”

  She nodded, looking stymied at that. “And I get that,” she said, “but I still find it kind of odd.”

  He pondered it for a long moment.

  She said suddenly, “Is there any chance …” Then she stopped and shook her head. “No, I don’t want to go there.”

  “Go where? Come on. We’re just brainstorming,” he asked.

  “Well, what if Andrea had an affair with Fendster or someone or something along that line?”

  “Oh,” he said, staring at her. “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “And I don’t want to consider that. But … now that I’m thinking about it,” she said, “it would be hard not to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Because,” she said, “it appears that I’m her child, but what if I’m not Jerry’s?”

  “Wow,” he said. “I guess that’s not too far of a leap to consider, but what would that mean in terms of what’s going on here?”

  “What if somebody killed her because she would tell Jerry about the affair?”

  “As in telling him that their marriage was a mess long before she had the baby?”

  “Or even just that he might not be my father.”

  “But maybe she loved her lover?”

  “Maybe so. What if her lover was married?” She shrugged. “Who knows? The possibilities are endless really,” she said. “It just occurred to me that if A were possible, then B could be possible too.”

  “Did you look for the DNA results?”

  “No,” she said, “I didn’t.”

  “I wonder if they’re in Jerry’s apartment.”

  “Or it could be in an email,” she said, shrugging.

  “Do you have access to his emails?”

  She looked at Damon in surprise, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. I used to do a bunch of clerical work as part of my job. I logged in and did orders and whatnot for him.”

  “So, could you log in now?” He’d gotten up and grabbed his laptop, setting it on the bar beside her.

  She pushed her plate off to the side, brought up a browser, and logged into Jerry’s email server. “Well,” she said, “I’m in.”

  “So,
take a look and search for DNA results in the emails.”

  She did a quick search for DNA and gulped. “It’s here.”

  He came around to stand over her shoulder. “Interesting,” he said. “Are you ready to open that?”

  She nodded slowly. “Does it change anything?”

  “If you mean, in the will, no. The estate is left to you by name, not by DNA,” he said. “Besides, I would think that just the fact that you are Andrea’s would matter to Jerry.”

  “I guess,” she said nervously. When she double-clicked on the email, they could see the attachment. She opened that up, and they both quickly read through it.

  “Oh, my God,” she said. “Jerry wasn’t my father.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Gabby stared at the evidence in front of her, then turned to look at Damon with a stricken look on her face. “How is that even possible?”

  “Well, we just discussed the fact that it was quite possible,” he said, gently massaging her shoulders, as he read the rest of the document in front of her. “However, it does confirm that Andrea is your mother, so she did have a lover,” he said. Gabby closed her eyes and sank back against him. “Gabby, we knew it was a possibility.”

  “Maybe,” she said, “but I wasn’t quite ready to see this.”

  “I don’t think we’re ever ready to see news like this,” he said. “But now for the real question. Who is your father?”

  She nodded slowly. “My guess would be the man who murdered her,” she said.

  “You’re thinking Fendster?”

  She nodded. “Yet, I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Andrea wrote that name for some reason. Assuming, of course, it was her and that’s what she meant. Is there anybody else named Fendster, before we jump to conclusions?”

  “That’s true,” he said. “Though it’s not a common name, the first Fendster who comes to mind is my captain. Fendster Meyer. He comes from a long line of law enforcement family members. I’m not sure how far back it goes, like to cover these sixty-year-old cold cases too, but it may. However, my captain’s older brother was captain too. I don’t know all the details, but my captain also had a nephew on the force who died in an accident or something. I’ll check it all out tomorrow.”

  “So, this is really all just speculation. How do we find something out for sure?” she murmured.

  “I know it’s probably not something you want me to bring up,” he said, “but have you considered asking the woman who raised you?”

  She winced at that. “I could. I guess there is no reason not to at this point,” she said, “but it’s just kind of, you know, unsettling.”

  “Do you have any relationship with her at all?”

  “Sort of,” she said. “I do. It’s just not something I particularly want to open up or expose myself to right now.”

  “She might be the one with the answers though,” he said.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” She picked up her phone and quickly called her adoptive mother, putting it on Speaker. When Bernadette answered, Gabby said, “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Hey,” she said, “quite a stir going on around your place, huh?”

  “Yes. Apparently so. Look. I know that my father was the bookstore owner here.”

  “Yes, we heard all about that being revealed.”

  “The thing is, he had DNA testing done, and, as it turns out, he’s not my biological father,” she said in a rush.

  At that, Bernadette gasped softly, and then she started to laugh. “Oh, that’s too funny,” she said.

  “Why is it funny?”

  “Because your mother was always one of those holier-than-thou kind of people,” Bernadette said, in a tart tone.

  “Do you know who might have been in her world at the time?”

  “What? Are you tracking down your birth father?”

  “Well, it did occur to me, yes,” Gabby said.

  “I wouldn’t bother,” she said. “It’s not like he’ll want to deal with an adult daughter at this stage.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just that we’ve gotten some answers, and now apparently there are more questions.”

  “Well …” And then she stopped and said, “Oh, I know why she did it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I never even thought about it at the time,” she said, laughing again. “But it makes a lot of sense.”

  “What does?” Gabby asked, wishing Bernadette would stop deliberately being so cryptic.

  “Your father couldn’t have children,” she said. “It was a bone of contention between them, something about an extremely low sperm count from a childhood illness or some such thing.”

  “Oh. Well, that would make sense.”

  “So, that’s why she went and had an affair, … to get pregnant,” she said. “And wouldn’t that figure? Then she goes and kills herself and leaves the rest of us holding the bag.”

  Gabby shook her head at that. “Well, let’s hope she didn’t actually kill herself,” she said.

  “Well, the only other thing it could be is an accidental death,” Bernadette said. “Neither will help you at all.”

  “No, I get that,” she said. “I guess I’m just wondering if you know anybody in her world who she cared enough about to have had an affair with.”

  “Oh, lots of men were in her world. Everybody was always sniffing around her,” she said. “I can’t believe that, even after all these years, all I ever get asked about is her.”

  “I’m sorry. I know this can’t be terribly pleasant for you.”

  “No, it sure isn’t,” she said. “She was my friend, but it’s been a friendship that I have regretted many a time,” she said wearily. “It’s like I’m never free of being in Andrea’s shadow.”

  Listening to her adoptive mother, she looked at Damon, who just winced and shrugged. “So, you don’t really have any idea?”

  “Well, you can talk to Jerry’s best friends. There were two of them at the time. I can’t remember what their names were just now though.”

  “Do you remember what they did?”

  “Well, one was a lawyer, and one was in the police force, I think,” she said, “but I don’t really know. Believe me. I’m more than happy to forget that stage of my life.”

  “And, once again, I’m grateful that you took care of me, and I just want you to know I appreciate everything you did.”

  “Well, as long as you’re done needing me now,” she said, “I feel relieved of a burden. So it’s all good.” And, with that, Bernadette hung up.

  Damon stared at her. “Relieved of a burden?”

  “Yep. That’s how I was raised,” she said, “always to remember that I was a burden,” she said with half a smile. “Not exactly the easiest way to grow up.”

  “Well, that was interesting, but I don’t know that it was really any help. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

  “It’s fine. I knew what I was in for. I’m never to ask her for anything, even information it seems. But, at the same time, it does bring us back to two people.”

  “Right,” he said and picked up the phone and called the lawyer again. When Nathan picked up, Damon said, “Hey, we’re still looking into a lot of these unsolved murder cases. Did you happen to know Jerry and his wife way back then?”

  “I told you that I did,” he said. “We were good friends, even back then.”

  “Sorry. I forgot about that. So this is an awkward question to ask,” he said, “but I feel like I need to.”

  “What’s this all about?” the lawyer asked in a testy tone. “I’m cold and tired after a very long day.”

  “Did you ever have an affair with Gabby’s mother?”

  There was a long silence on the other end. “Is it really necessary to bring this up?” the lawyer asked.

  “Yes,” Damon said, “it is.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Yes, I did.”

  “And was she looking to leave her husband for you?”

  “That was ne
ver on the table,” he said. “She wanted to get pregnant, and Jerry couldn’t do the job. We all knew Jerry was sterile, but apparently she didn’t seem to think it was an issue, until she married him, and then her biological clock started ticking away.”

  “So you were trying to get her pregnant?”

  “Honestly there were several of us,” he said, “and I don’t want Gabby to think less of her mother because of it. She desperately wanted a child. That’s all it was.”

  “In which case, why would anyone think that Andrea would have killed herself?”

  “I never did think that. I actually thought Jerry might have tossed her off, but nobody saw him, and everybody said he was inside the restaurant.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “Do you know who else might have had an affair with her?”

  “Does it matter? The poor woman is dead. Let’s not sully her reputation.”

  “Well, the DNA came back, and Jerry isn’t her father, so obviously Gabby wants to know who is.”

  “Ouch,” the lawyer said. “That’s not exactly what anybody wants to hear.”

  “No, but she’s struggling, and it would be nice if she knew who her family truly was.”

  “Well, I’m happy to take a DNA test for her, if that’s the issue.”

  “Okay, I’ll check with her on that.” He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, and she immediately nodded. “That’s a yes, please on her side.”

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll send it to the same lab, and they can compare it against hers.”

  “Thank you,” he said, “and I still would like the names of who else might have been involved in this.”

  “Sure,” he said, “that would be your police captain, and then there was Jimmy at the resort.” Nathan stopped to think about it and said, “I don’t know about anybody else. But it’s quite possible there could be a couple others.”

  “Thank you,” Damon said.

  “Honestly, it was, I don’t know, … a weird situation. Andrea was so determined. She didn’t enjoy the process and knew she was cheating, but she just had to have that baby.”

  “Which all adds credence to the theory that she probably didn’t commit suicide,” he said, “and that helps too.”

  “Not if it brings it all back up again,” he said. “It was pretty traumatic for all of us at the time.”