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The Deadly Art of Love and Murder

Page 5

by Linda Crowder


  I made a face. “That won’t be a fun trip.” At his look of disappointment, I added, “but I could go, if you think Dad and Bent can spare me, Mom.”

  She gave me a long look. “You’d be better off riding with Kenny. He has a bigger boat than we do and he’ll be making a mail run tomorrow.”

  “Good idea, Marcie. Kenny’s set up to haul freight.”

  “I don't want to think of Mrs. Nash as freight,” I said.

  “Well, you certainly wouldn’t want to have the coffin in the cabin with you.” I looked sharply at her. I thought I detected a slight hint of a smile, but I wasn’t sure enough to call her on it.

  “I guess you’re off the hook, Cara. I’ll head out tomorrow with Kenny.” Dan pushed away his empty plate and took a drink of his coffee. “The attorney wants you to call him.”

  “Me? Why?”

  Dan pushed a scrap of paper over to me with the name Thomas Clarke and a phone number written on it. “No idea, but if you feel like calling him now, I’m curious.”

  “Me too,” said my mother, getting up to refill our coffee and fetch more hot water for her tea.

  “That makes three of us.” I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number. After telling a polite woman who answered who I was and why I was calling, she put me through to Mr. Clarke.

  “Ms. King, thank you for calling.”

  “Dan tells me Mrs. Nash wanted to be buried here.”

  “Yes, she left specific instructions to that effect. Mr. Simmons thought your family might be willing to spearhead the arrangements.”

  “Of course, we’d be happy to do that. Was that what you needed to speak with me about?”

  “In part. If you would arrange for her transportation and burial and have the bills sent to my office, I’ll make sure they are paid out of the proceeds from her estate.”

  “Forgive me, but I didn’t even know she had an estate.”

  “Technically, everyone has an estate, Ms. King. Mrs. Nash was not a wealthy woman, but she did have property here and in Coho Bay that will pass to her heirs.”

  “She has family then? We weren’t sure.”

  “She has a granddaughter.”

  “I wonder if she’ll want to come to the funeral. I know it’s a long way, but I should invite her, just the same.”

  “I’ll check with her and let you know.”

  “Wait, did you say Mrs. Nash had property in Coho Bay?” Mom and Dan exchanged surprised looks.

  “Yes. That’s the other thing I wanted to speak with you about. Mr. Simmons tells me you are the only licensed real estate agent in the area?”

  “As far as I know. We don’t have many sales around here.”

  “I suspect Mrs. Nash’s granddaughter will want to liquidate her property in Alaska. I haven’t spoken with her yet, but regardless, I will need a current assessment of the property’s value for probate.”

  “I’d be happy to do that for you. Could you tell me where the property is? I wasn’t aware she owned anything here.”

  “She referred to it in her will as The Tilamu House. When I asked for an address, she told me that was as much address as anyone in Coho Bay ever needed. Ms. King? Are you still there?”

  I’d dropped the phone so I picked it up. “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry.”

  “Does that address make sense to you?”

  “Yes it does. I know exactly where the property is.”

  “Wonderful. I left my contact information with Mr. Simmons. Let me know when you have the assessment and I’ll be in touch about the granddaughter’s wishes regarding the funeral.” He gave me the granddaughter’s name and wished me a good day.

  I hope I remembered to thank him before the phone disconnected. I wasn’t quite sure. I was so stunned at the thought of Mrs. Nash actually owning the Tilamu house that I wasn’t sure of anything until my mother shook me to get my attention.

  “Caribou, what on earth? What did he say?”

  “Mrs. Nash owned property in Coho Bay?” asked Dan.

  “He said she owned the Tilamu house.”

  “What?” Dan’s voice was loud and it echoed in the empty dining room.

  “That’s impossible,” said my mother. “I thought you talked to Alex yesterday.”

  “I did.”

  “Alex?” asked Dan.

  “Alex Tilamu. I had to do something about the house. I didn’t want to clean it up if he’s just going to tear it down and sell the land in the spring.”

  “But he doesn’t own the house after all?”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of it, Daniel. What did Alex have to say?”

  “He said he’d talk to his sisters and let me know. There has to be some mistake, Mom. The Tilamus have always owned that property. Mrs. Nash has been paying them rent for six years. Who would do that, then turn around and tell her attorney the house was hers?”

  “Caribou, you’re going to have to pull the title on that house and send a copy to Mr. Clarke.”

  “I guess I’ll be going to Juneau with you and Kenny after all, Dan.”

  “I MISS DRYWALL.”

  My father laughed as he hammered a nail into his end of the wooden plank we were using as paneling in the family room. We were trying to get as much done as possible today since I would be gone tomorrow. “You hate hanging drywall.”

  “Not as much as I hate this stuff.” I put a couple of nails into my end of the plank and we both took a step toward each other to drive more nails in along the next stud. I put my finger through a gap between planks, created by a missing knothole. “This isn’t very private for the bedroom on the other side of this wall.”

  “We’ll drywall the bedroom in the spring. This’ll work for now. Besides, I think it looks nicer than drywall. I might do a wall or two of the stuff when we build the new house.”

  “What new house?”

  He looked at me, a bit sheepishly. “Forget I said that.”

  “Dad, you and Mom aren’t seriously considering building next door, are you?” My parents owned the vacant lot behind Mel’s place and I’d kidded her that they might build onto the restaurant once they found out she was expecting their first grandchild. I hadn’t liked the pallor that had appeared on her face so I hadn’t brought it up again.

  We finished the plank and he brought another one from the pile and lined it up. He started the first nail before he spoke. “Mel would hate the idea, wouldn’t she?”

  “She doesn’t know yet?”

  “We’re only in the talking about it stage.” He finished his end and waited while I drove in two nails and we took our step toward the middle. “You know how much I love the log house, but your mother...”

  “You don’t have to explain it to me.” We did two more planks as I mulled over an idea. “Why don’t you take my apartment? I could live in my cabin.” Mel and I both had cabins near my parents’ log home. She hadn’t lived in hers since she married Bent, but I usually moved out to mine every winter.

  “You can’t live all the way out there during the season. You’d need a car.”

  “You don’t have a car.”

  “I don’t work in town.”

  We finished the wall and moved to the next one. “Let’s think on it,” Dad said as we paneled around the window. “Lots of time between now and spring.”

  My phone rang and Dad went downstairs to get us something to drink while I answered it. The voice sounded tired and there was the sound of voices in the background. “Yes, this is Caribou King. Who is this?”

  “I'm Angela Nash’s granddaughter, Olivia Jordan.”

  "Dr. Jordan, thank you for calling. I wanted to speak with you about the funeral. I hope you know how much we all loved your grandmother.”

  “I know she loved your family, and she loved Coho Bay. She talked about it so much, I feel as though I’ve already been there.”

  “I hope you will be here soon. We need to do the burial before the ground freezes, but the memorial service can be scheduled whenever it’s conv
enient for you.”

  “You’re very kind. I talked to my boss and he’s giving me compassionate leave. I can get a flight out tomorrow morning and be in Juneau by the morning after. The airline said that’s as close as they can get me. Is there a ferry or something I catch from there?”

  “I was planning on going to Juneau tomorrow. I’ll talk to Kenny and see if we can delay a day, then you can catch a ride with us.”

  “That’s perfect! Oh, shoot. They’re paging me to the ER. I’ll call you when I get there.” The line went dead and I wondered if I should have told Olivia why I was going to town and what our cargo would be on the trip home. Probably a better conversation to have face to face, I decided. I thumbed through my contacts and called Dan.

  “We’re gonna have to make our day trip day later,” I told him. “That is, if you think it’ll be all right with Kenny.”

  “It’s okay by me, but is there a problem?”

  “Mrs. Nash’s granddaughter is coming for the funeral and will be flying in day after tomorrow. I thought it would be easier to pick her up than to have her wait for the next ferry.”

  “Why don’t you and I take your boat and stay over in Juneau? Kenny can take Mrs. Nash back with him tomorrow. That way you’ve got time to pull the title and Olivia Jordan doesn’t have to spend three hours in a boat with her grandmother’s body and a pack of strangers.”

  “Dan Simmons, you’re a good man.”

  “Don’t let it get around.”

  I laughed and hung up the phone. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, I pushed away from the window and went to tell Dad about the change in plans. The words caught in my throat when I saw Frank following behind him, carrying two glasses of pop. He handed me one and kissed me on the cheek, putting his arm around my waist. I stood awkwardly, feeling my cheeks burning.

  “Who was that, honey?” asked Dad, dropping into the chair by the window.

  I slipped away from Frank and went to stand beside Dad. Frank’s expression was somewhere between puzzled and annoyed. “Olivia Jordan, Mrs. Nash’s granddaughter. She’s coming for the funeral.”

  “Really? It’s good she could get away on short notice.”

  “They’re giving her a few days off for compassionate leave.”

  “Don’t let your mother find out she’s a doctor or she’ll figure out a way to get her to stay before she even steps off the boat.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” said Frank, joining us. “We need a doctor.”

  We stood on either side of my dad and his head went back and forth between us as we talked, as though he were watching a tennis match. “I don’t know what kind of doctor Olivia is,” I reminded him. “She could be a plastic surgeon for all we know.”

  Frank rubbed a scar that ran along the line of his chin. “I could use a little work.” The corner of his mouth curved up and he winked at me.

  “When’s she getting here?” asked Dad.

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Maybe Kenny can put off your trip for a day so you can pick her up.”

  “What trip?” asked Frank.

  I didn’t want to answer so Dad filled him in. “Cara’s going to Juneau to pull some title paperwork on a property. Dan’s riding up with Kenny to get Mrs. Nash’s body. Seems she left instructions she wanted to be buried in Coho Bay.”

  “You can’t get that information online?”

  “Not always, especially with older properties and there are some questions about the chain of ownership on this one. I thought it would be a good idea to do a more extensive title search than I can do online and get certified copies of the deed.”

  “No need for you to ride around with a dead body. The mill’s shut down for the winter. I’d be happy to keep you company.”

  I spared a pleading look at my dad, who misread my signal. “Hey, Cara, that’s a good idea. Then Olivia can ride back with you two instead of going with the body. That’d be hard on anyone.”

  “Actually, Kenny is going to pick up Mrs. Nash tomorrow as planned. I’m going to bring Dr. Jordan home in our boat.”

  “Who is Dr. Jordan?” asked my mother, interrupting the question Frank had begun to ask. Thank you, God, for your perfect sense of timing.

  “Olivia Jordan. She’s Mrs. Nash’s granddaughter and she’s coming here for the funeral. I’m going to pick her up at the airport day after tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t you speak with Kenneth and Daniel about putting the trip off for a day?”

  Oh Mom, you were doing so well. “You and I should put our heads together, Mom,” I said, locking arms with her and practically dragging her out of the room. “We’ve got a funeral to plan, double quick. Let’s see if Mel wants to help.”

  I pulled her into the bedroom, where Mel was sitting in a rocking chair by the window, and shut the door. I dropped Mom’s arm and dropped onto the bed. A chain of soft yellow yarn was emerging from Mel’s knitting needles and running into her lap. “I didn’t know you could knit.”

  Mel’s brows were knotted in concentration and she answered without looking up. “Mother’s teaching me.”

  “Mom knits?”

  “I do many things, young lady, which you know nothing about. Now, what was the meaning of that charade?”

  “What? Oh shoot. I think I dropped a stitch.”

  “Your sister was having a perfectly ordinary conversation with your father and Franklin but when I came in, she threw herself at me and pulled me in here claiming we had to plan Mrs. Nash’s funeral, right now, this instant.”

  Mel stopped trying to knit and looked up at me. “Why did you do that?”

  “It’s nothing. Mrs. Nash’s granddaughter––”

  “The doctor,” said Mom.

  “She’s a doctor?” asked Mel.

  “Yes, but I don’t know what kind of doctor so don’t ask. Anyway, she’s coming for the funeral day after tomorrow.”

  “We’re having the funeral day after tomorrow?” asked Mel. “Mom, she’s right. We’d better call the ladies at the church and see if we can pull something together.”

  “I’m picking her up day after tomorrow,” I corrected, “though I don’t think she has much time off.”

  “I will take care of the funeral,” said Mom. “What I’m more interested in is why you hustled me out of there before I’d hardly set foot in the room.”

  “Yeah, Cara. What’s up with that?”

  I put my head on my hands. “Because I didn’t want to go into great detail in front of Frank about a trip I’m taking with Dan. Now do you two understand?”

  “You’d better call Dan and reschedule since Olivia’s not getting in until day after tomorrow,” said Mel.

  “Is there a broken record in this house? Dan and I will follow Kenny up in our boat tomorrow because Dan has to sign for the body. Kenny will bring Mrs. Nash back tomorrow and Dan and I will stay in Juneau to do the title search on the Tilamu house. We’ll bring Olivia back with us so she doesn’t have to spend three hours in a boat staring at her grandmother’s coffin.”

  Mel smiled. “I can see why you didn’t want to say that in front of Frank.”

  “Caribou, I think you're making a mistake.”

  “Mom, it’s not what you’re thinking. I’m not doing this so I can sleep with Dan.”

  “That’s disappointing, but that’s not the mistake to which I was referring.”

  “What?” Mel and I said in unison.

  “What is disappointing or what is the mistake?”

  “Both,” I said.

  “I’m disappointed that you are not more willing to explore your sexuality, Caribou. A woman should not restrict herself until she is ready to commit. While you’re young and unencumbered, you should enjoy yourself.”

  “I’m sorry you asked, Cara.” Mel sat back in her rocker, looking a little green and I didn’t think it was the morning sickness this time.

  “Mom, the last thing I want to talk to you about is my sexual explorations.”

  “Because
there haven’t been any,” added Mel.

  “You’re not helping.”

  “That's my point,” said Mom. “You need to spread your wings. With proper protection, of course. I assume you’re aware of the options available to you and that you are aware that using oral birth control does not protect you from sexually transmitted disease.”

  Now I was turning green, but Mel had started to giggle. “If that’s the disappointment, what’s the mistake?”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  “Daniel is not the right man for you, Caribou.”

  “Let me get this straight. You think I should have sex with him as long as I dump him like a rock afterward. Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Laugh all you want, but Franklin is a much better match for you and you risk driving him away by being openly flirtatious with Daniel.”

  “You want her to sleep with Dan but not flirt with him, Mother?”

  “This conversation stops right now. Mom, I appreciate your... openness, but I don’t want to play games with either of these guys, so you and Mel need to butt out.”

  “Hey, don’t tar me with the same brush,” Mel protested, throwing up her hands. “You’re the one who ran in here.”

  “Fine. Now that we have that settled, let’s plan a funeral.”

  “Consider it done,” said Mom. “Let’s think about how to persuade Dr. Jordan to move to Coho Bay.”

  Chapter 4

  The wind that had been showering us with snow for weeks stilled sometime during the night and by the time Dan and I cast off the next morning, the waters were calm and the sun promised as warm a trip as we could hope for in late October. Kenny had a bigger, faster boat than my family, so we’d agreed he would set off an hour later, giving Dan and me the bay to ourselves. I chugged along slowly, letting the engine warm up, getting the feel for how it responded. Our family’s old boat, held together with duct tape, had finally given up the ghost at the end of the season so when Jack offered me Johnny’s boat, I’d jumped at the chance.

  Drawing even with the tiny island where Johnny had built the home that would become the artist’s retreat, I felt the familiar tug that enveloped me whenever I thought about my childhood friend. We’d grown up together, and I’d always thought there would be more than friendship someday, but he’d married someone else. I’d lost what I’d never really had but that didn’t completely dull the pain.

 

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