Taken Too Soon

by Edith Maxwell

  “This will be over soon enough,” Daddy murmured.

  “I hope so. But this is only the first of the functions I’ll have to endure as daughter-in-law,” I whispered in return. “I want to be out there with my friends, with my nieces and nephews. Is this my new fate? Daddy, what have I done?”

  “Now, now. Thee is having a case of the jitters.” He gazed over his own spectacles at me. “Thee has acquired thy heart’s desire. All the rest will sort itself out.”

  How fortunate in parents was I? Mother would have given me the same response.

  As a string quartet played softly in a fern-embellished corner of the room, David’s acquaintance departed. My husband turned to me.

  “If only my brother could have joined us.” He glanced at his mother, then back at me.

  “A brother?” I frowned and tilted my head until a memory flashed in my brain. “I remember. Early in our courting thee mentioned a distant brother, but it never came up again. I had forgotten.”

  He let out a breath. “Yes, a distant brother. Currie is four years older than I.”

  “What an unusual name.”

  “It’s a nickname for Herbert Currier Dodge, Junior. I sent him an invitation at his last known address but never received a response.” My husband’s tone was wistful.

  “I didn’t know. I’m sorry he didn’t reply.” I stroked his hand in what was clearly a moment of pain. “Thee and he must be estranged.”

  “It’s my mother he’s estranged from, but in effect he doesn’t spend time with Father or me, either.”

  “Thee is sad about this.” I rubbed my knee gently against his under the table.

  “I am. Rosie, he was my world growing up. I adored him, I learned from him.”

  I thought back. Surely we had talked about David’s childhood. I was certain he hadn’t talked about a brother other than that one early mention. Perhaps the estrangement hurt him too much to dwell on those memories. Or had iron-willed Clarinda banned mention of him in the household? Herbert was a successful businessman and David had a thriving medical practice. Why were they so cowed by Clarinda?

  “I would have done anything for Currie,” David continued. “I tried to reach him. Father did, too.”

  “Of course thee would have.”

  “But he never responded. He must have felt too damaged by—” His eyes grew to resemble saucers. “My dear, has marriage transformed me into a conjurer?” He pointed at the entrance.

  A man sauntered in wearing a fancy bowler and carrying a cane, looking as if he should be hobnobbing with the likes of the Carnegies and Rockefellers. He removed hat and gloves with similar flourishes and held them to the side, as if a servant would materialize to accept them. To my astonishment, one did.

  I turned to David. “That’s Currie?”

  His eyes narrowed for a flash of a moment, but he quickly replaced the look with a sad smile. “That’s my brother.” He swallowed and stood, inhaling. “I must greet him, Rose, but I hate to leave you.”

  “Go, my dear,” I urged.

  A muffled shriek sounded from my left. Clarinda, staring, covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

  Herbert slapped his hands onto the table and stood. “My prayers have been answered,” he said in a thick voice to himself, as if overcome by emotion.

  David hurried toward the newcomer. The crowd hushed and parted. The two met near the back and embraced, then pulled apart. They were too far away for me to hear what they said. David pulled at Currie’s elbow, urging him toward our table. His brother shook his head, his gaze on their mother. Herbert joined them, wiping his eyes, and a minute later sat with his sons at a table near the door. The buzz of conversation in the hall resumed, along with the clinking of china and glass.

  “A relative, I presume?” Daddy leaned close to ask.

  “David’s long-lost brother Currie.” I twisted to see Clarinda, who smiled pointedly at a guest standing at her left, anywhere but at the rest of her family. “Who has been estranged from his mother, David told me only a minute ago.” What I didn’t know was what had caused the distancing. What had David been about to tell me when Currie made his dramatic entrance?

  “This should prove an interesting party, doesn’t thee think, my dear?” Daddy’s eyes sparkled, as always.

  “I expect so. I’m tired of being trapped up here. I think I’ll go meet Herbert Currier Dodge, Junior, for myself.” I made my way toward the Dodge men, smiling politely and thanking various acquaintances for their congratulations as I went.

  “Ah, Rose.” David leapt to his feet when I arrived. “May I introduce my brother? Currie, this is my wife, Rose Carroll Dodge.”

  Currie stood, a little unsteadily, and brought his heels together. He took my hand and bowed. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Dodge.” His words were ever so slightly slurred. He straightened and flashed me a white-toothed smile. “Or perhaps I should call you Sister now.”

  I reclaimed my hand but laughed lightly. “Only if thee wants to cast me as a nun, Currie, which I am most certainly not. A simple Rose will do. I’m pleased to make thy acquaintance. Thy scoundrel brother had not informed me thee would be joining us, but I am delighted thee was able.”

  A cloud scudded over the sunshine in Currie’s gaze, but he shook it off. “Who would have thought my baby brother would wed before I did?” He widened his eyes in mock wonder.

  “Your old pater might have entertained such a thought, but we don’t want to dwell on that,” Herbert Senior said. “Our David is a happy husband, my wife and I have acquired a daughter, and we’ve now regained a son, from all appearances.”

  “Where have you been keeping yourself, old man?” David asked his brother.

  “Here and there.” Currie gazed into the distance instead of at David. “Of late I reside in Wood’s Holl on Cape Cod.”

  David and I exchanged a quick glance. A well-regarded science aquarium was situated in Wood’s Holl, as was the Marine Biological Laboratory, established only last year. Both were only a few miles from our intended destination tomorrow. My two maiden aunts had been unable to come to Lawrence for our wedding, so David and I had planned a trip to see them and have a modest honeymoon at the same time.

  “Does thee work at the aquarium?” I asked him.

  “Me?” Currie scoffed. “Davey’s the scientist in the family. I lean more toward the entertainment industry.”

  I’d ask David after we were alone what that meant. In the meantime, I gazed from one brother to the other. Currie was taller and leaner than my husband, and his hair was a lighter shade of brown. Around the eyes they were clearly brothers, but Currie’s narrow nose and thin-lipped mouth resembled Clarinda’s, while David’s fuller features were every inch his father’s.

  “Come along son,” Herbert began. “It’s past time to greet your long-suffering mother.” He held out his hand to usher Currie toward the front.

  Currie folded his arms and refused to budge. “If you remember, Father, it was she who gave me the tip of her boot. I’m the one who has suffered, not Empress Clarinda.” He shot a look full of sharp projectiles toward his mother, then turned his back.

  What? Why did he come if not for reconciliation? David’s family was turning out to be far more complicated than I’d thought. And my happy wedding day was not the completely blessed celebration I’d expected.

  Currie was in for a surprise soon, too. Clarinda rose and moved, chin high, in our direction. David grimaced briefly. I thought about absenting myself, but she arrived before I could do so gracefully.

  Clarinda clasped her hands in front her. “Herbert Junior?” She spoke softly. “I see you’ve done the right thing.”

  The unsaid “for once” nearly screamed itself. I was astonished to see a tic beating next to her eye. I’d never seen her nervous.

  “I am glad for it,” she continued, then waited for him to face her.

  He rotated as slowly as the cylinder in a nearly spent music box. “Hello, Mater.” He didn�
��t smile, nor reach out for her.

  “You are looking well,” she said, her voice shaking.

  Currie opened his mouth as if to begin a retort but clamped it shut again. Clarinda cast a look of desperation toward her husband. He shrugged, clearly leaving this volley to the two with the history of clashes. Was that smart of Herbert, or a sign of weakness?

  “I hope you will return home with us this evening.” Clarinda’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, nearly pleading.

  “I’m not letting him out of my sight,” Herbert said, clapping his arm around Currie’s shoulders. “The prodigal son and all that.”

  To my eyes, Currie looked torn between wanting to let the past be bygone and needing to finish whatever dispute had caused the rift in the first place. And Clarinda looked in all respects like a mother longing to reconcile with her son.

  The hotel manager approached Clarinda holding a small tray with a yellow envelope and a letter opener atop it. “Forgive me for interrupting you, ma’am. I have a telegram for Mr. Allan Carroll from a Miss Drusilla Carroll.”

  “Allan is my father,” I said. Daddy had also left the front table. I gestured toward him and caught his attention from where he’d gone to be with his grandchildren. I waved him over. “Dru is one of the two aunts we’re off to visit in West Falmouth tomorrow,” I explained to the group.

  “Mr. Carroll, a telegram has arrived for you,” Clarinda said when he arrived.

  “I thank thee, Clarinda,” Daddy said, slipping out the telegram. “Oh, my.” The edges of his mouth drew down. He glanced up at David and me. “My sister wants thee to come to them right away, Rose.”

  “Now?” I asked.

  “Immediately, is what she wrote.”

  “That’s completely unacceptable.” Clarinda pursed her lips. “Why, this is a wedding party, a happy occasion. I won’t hear of it.”

  “What’s the rush, Mr. Carroll?” David asked in a low voice.

  My father fixed a sorrowful gaze on his new son-in-law. “She says no one but our Rose can help. Frannie has been murdered.”

  Chapter Three

  “Well, I never,” Clarinda began. “This relation of yours has a lot of nerve.”

  David said, “Mother,” at the same time as my father protested, “This relation is my elderly sister, and she is fully aware of Rose’s expertise.” Herbert looked somberly from David to me and back.

  I cleared my throat. “If you’ll excuse us, Clarinda?” I mustered a smile. “Daddy, may I?” I held out my hand for the telegram, then took David’s arm and led him out into a corner of the lobby, Clarinda still muttering her objections behind us. David came along without protest. I faced him, held both his hands, and closed my eyes in a moment of silent prayer, waiting for discernment about the right path to follow. I opened my eyes to his blue-eyed gaze.

  David squeezed my hands and dropped one, raising my chin with a gentle finger. “I will do whatever you wish, my dearest.”

  I read aloud from the yellow paper:

  Frannie Isley found dead in bay STOP Sheriff says murder STOP Need Rose without delay STOP Tilly beside herself. STOP Hurry STOP

  “Poor Dru, and poor Tilly,” I murmured. I pictured my elderly aunts, spinsters both. Dru, shorter, rounder, and more kindly—much like my dear father—than her austere, thin, crotchety younger sister. Still, they had lived together for many years, neither having married.

  “Who is Frannie?” David asked.

  “She’s Tilly’s ward. Frannie was orphaned when she was a toddler. I’m not quite sure why Tilly took her in, but she did. Frannie is sixteen—or she would be if she weren’t dead. The poor dear girl, murdered. How, and why?”

  David kept silent for a moment. “Rosie, we are legally married, and we have received the blessings and congratulations of nearly everyone we and our families know. I’m aware this reception wasn’t going to be your favorite part of our wedding day. And neither is it mine. If you want to catch the next train to the Cape, I will defend you to my mother.”

  I shook my head in wonder at my good fortune in finding this treasure of a man. “We do already have our luggage here. But it’s our wedding night, David,” I said in a wistful tone, imagining the joys we’d anticipated in our luxurious room upstairs.

  “We’ll have it on Cape Cod, instead. I expect the Tower House Hotel in Falmouth, where we are to stay starting tomorrow, will have a room for us tonight, too. And, truly, every night with you will be the happiest of my life.” He kissed my forehead. “We both know why they summoned you.”

  “Because of my increasing facility at solving cases of homicide, or at least helping the police do so.”

  “Helping the police do what, now?” Kevin Donovan appeared at my side. “Do I detect an emergency of some kind? I couldn’t help but notice the arrival of a telegram, some degree of conflict between you both and Mrs. Dodge, and your sudden disappearance. I hope you won’t think me too bold, Mr. Dodge, to ask if I might assist with any matter small or large.” He straightened the coat of his best gray suit.

  “Of course not, Detective,” David said.

  “Kevin,” I began, “thee isn’t being too bold, at all. In fact, I’m glad to see thee.”

  David continued. “Apparently Rose’s aunt’s ward has been murdered on Cape Cod.”

  “Oh, my,” Kevin said. “Who says, and how?”

  “The sheriff says, but I wondered how and why myself,” I said. “The telegram doesn’t include any details about that.”

  Kevin whistled. “What precise location on the Cape, may I ask?”

  “In West Falmouth, the place where we aimed to travel to tomorrow,” David said. “This relative has urgently requested Rose’s presence.”

  “Aha.” Kevin clasped his hands behind him and rolled on his heels. “I believe I have an acquaintance on the force down there. I’ll make some inquiries, shall I?”

  “Thank thee,” I said. “I would appreciate it.”

  David looked at me and I inclined my head.

  “We’ll be taking the next train to Boston,” David told him. “It’s only half past four. I believe a train leaves Lawrence station at five sharp, and we can catch the evening express to the Cape from Boston.”

  “You can contact us, if need be, in care of the West Falmouth post office,” I added to Kevin. “My aunts are Tilly and Drusilla Carroll.”

  The two men shook hands. I held mine out to the detective, too. He surprised me by enveloping me in a quick embrace, instead. We’d never hugged before, but we’d been through a lot together, the detective and me. And this was my wedding day.

  Red-faced, he stepped back. “Many happy returns of the day to you both,” he mumbled. “And you know what we say back in Ireland to the new couple.” He rattled off words I didn’t understand, then explained, “May you both live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.” He hurried back into the reception.

  I blew out a breath and took my husband’s hand. “Shall we brave the angry hordes?”

  Chapter Four

  As it turned out, the hordes hadn’t been particularly angry. Even Clarinda conceded that the reception was nearing its end, her mood perhaps buoyed by a possible truce between her and her older son.

  Currie had made a valiant attempt to accompany us on our journey, saying he lived on Cape Cod anyway and could show us the sights. Thank goodness family members on both sides had prevailed to convince him we neither needed nor desired his presence on our wedding night. Clarinda seemed grateful to have his company. We were more than grateful not to.

  “Rose, dear, is thee letting thy interest in solving crimes push too far into thy personal life?” my mother had asked me after taking me aside. “It’s thy wedding night, after all.” The fine lines around her eyes deepened as she gazed into mine.

  “I suppose I am, Mother.” I did regret this unpleasantness tainting my happy day. “But it would seem selfish not to go. Tilly asked for me. And David will be at my side.”

  She
waited a moment before speaking. “I understand. Travel safely, then.” She’d embraced me with a fierceness unusual for her.

  I was her sole remaining child since my older sister’s death, and I was now a married woman. Mother only wanted her daughter to be happy.

  Now, at a few minutes past seven, David and I swayed in a plush seat for two along with the gentle movement of the Naushon drawing room car, one of two comprising the Flying Dude. It was an express train from Boston to Wood’s Holl that operated by subscription. Herbert Senior had insisted we take his subscription card, which awarded us the two places always reserved for him. Herbert had also arranged for the hotel to pack us a picnic supper for our trip. The arched top of the car was as ornately decorated as the rest of it, and a chandelier rocked gently. Around us other travelers in upholstered armchairs also talked in quiet voices or read books or newspapers. One man snored lightly, his hat over his face.

  “Is thee hungry, darling?” I asked David.

  He leaned over to nibble on my earlobe and whispered, “For you, wife, always.”

  “Shh.” My face warmed even as I snorted and pushed him away, murmuring, “Thee knows it’s mutual, husband. In this case, however, I meant for food. Like pies and cheeses and sweets, whatever they prepared for us.”

  His stomach growled in return, prompting my laughter. I set the basket on the seat between us and we investigated its contents: meat and chicken turnovers, sweet red grapes and sharp cheese, tiny apple tarts, and wrapped dreams of creamy chocolate. I even tasted the port wine they’d included.

  “My, that’s smooth,” I said, but I held my hand up in refusal of more. I’d gone astray earlier this year indulging in sherry with Bertie, and I didn’t intend to become stupidly intoxicated on my wedding night, not with an unsolved homicide to complicate matters. I frowned down at my flaky chicken turnover.