Dagger in Dahlias

by Dale Mayer

  She put everything back in that envelope, then decided the only way through this was to ignore the envelope designation and sort out all the contents themselves. She took everything out of the accordion folder and laid it all one at a time on the coffee table.

  She didn’t find what she’d hoped for—provenance confirming a gold mine of million-dollar antiques—but still Doreen unearthed a gold mine of family information.

  She pulled out the medical file and opened it, found a copy of her own birth certificate, which was not surprising, until she saw a DNA certificate and froze. Nan had had Doreen’s DNA tested against her son’s to make sure Doreen was Nan’s blood granddaughter. Doreen winced at that. But she couldn’t really blame her grandmother because her mother had been much less than a one-man kind of woman.

  Doreen laid that down along with her birth certificate and slowly went through everything she had from the first envelope. It was a hodgepodge file of everything her mom had sent over time to Nan. It brought back memories, but it was also sad.

  Doreen put everything back in the appropriate envelope, reminiscing about a childhood she barely remembered. Obviously Nan had kept mementos of it all. And at least the DNA had confirmed she was truly Nan’s granddaughter. She wasn’t sure what Nan would have done if she’d found out that Doreen wasn’t her blood relative. That would have been hard too. Particularly with her father gone, it would have been devastating for Nan to learn otherwise. And to think that Nan had some reason to get Doreen tested was just sad.

  She went back through the other stuff, only to find nothing of the further provenance she searched for. A copy of Nan’s Last Will was here, but it was sealed. Then the paperwork on the house, which was great because now Doreen had a place to file the new deeds when they came. Nan had saved copies of receipts for work done on the house years ago, like how the roof was fifteen years old. Also good to know that she’d at least get another five or ten years out of it hopefully.

  Other receipts went even farther back but nothing regarding the antiques in questions. Another envelope was full of correspondence. Doreen pulled it out and looked at all the cards and letters; some of them were on very thin tissue paper. She went through them carefully, smiling at some that appeared to be from lovers who Nan had walked away from. Nan had led a wild and colorful life.

  Doreen picked up a piece of paper, recognizing the handwriting. Checking the signature on the bottom, she saw it was to Penny from Nan. Doreen read it quickly—Nan sending condolences on the missing state of Johnny and hoping for a quick resolution to the problem. How very like Nan, Doreen thought. The letter was dated twenty-nine years ago. So then why was it in Nan’s possession and not Penny’s? Maybe Nan had written it but hadn’t sent it? Doreen would ask Nan about it. She set it off to one side to deal with later, but … she needed to know now.

  She phoned Nan. When her grandmother answered, she said, “Hi, Nan. How are you doing today?”

  “I’d be doing much better,” Nan said in a testy voice, “if you came down and gave me all the facts clearly.”

  It was unusual for Nan to be in a difficult mood. Doreen wasn’t sure what was going on. “What facts?”

  “The bodies you found in the lake,” she said.

  “Oh,” Doreen said, frowning. “You mean about finding Paul Shore?”

  “We know what the news reported and how you’re the one who put it all together.” Her voice warmed as she added, “And of course it was you. You’re the biggest sweetheart.”

  “And yet, you sound kind of cranky,” Doreen said humorously.

  “Well, everybody here was mad at me because I didn’t have all the information from you.”

  “Oh my,” Doreen said. “I never even thought to fill you in on the rest. Yesterday was fairly trying and very emotional. I came home, and I didn’t want to deal with people. Although Mack did come over for dinner.” Then she remembered what she’d found earlier. “Oddly enough, I just found a letter from you to Penny Jordan, but it doesn’t look like you ever sent it.”

  “Hmm,” Nan said thoughtfully. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It’s about Johnny, her brother-in-law who went missing.”

  “Oh, yes, yes, yes,” Nan said. “I was writing the letter, giving her my condolences, then realized it sounded like Johnny was dead. I didn’t want her to think Johnny was dead. We all hoped the young man had just gone away to make his fortune and would come riding back into town as the ‘big I am’ he thought he was.”

  A tone in her voice made it sound like she knew Johnny better than Doreen had suspected. “Did you know Johnny?”

  “He used to rake my yard every once in a while, but, like so many kids, he thought he should get paid way more for the little bit of work he did,” Nan said with a sniff. “But he was pleasant enough. He was running around town with the wrong gang, and that made things difficult when he went missing.”

  “When you say, the wrong gang? Who?”

  “Well, Freddy Black was bad news at the time. And Thomas Burgess. I can’t remember who else. But they were always getting into trouble with the law. You know, like throwing rocks at cars and just generally being a nuisance. Vandalism. Then they got into the drug scene. But I don’t think it was all that bad. At least I didn’t hear too much about it.”

  “So you knew Johnny fairly well then?”

  “Enough that, when he went missing, I felt sorry for the family. To think of it being almost thirty years ago now, that’s so sad.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Doreen said sympathetically. “Penny asked me if I’d look into the case.”

  At first nothing but silence came over the phone; then Nan laughed. “Oh my,” she said. “That is fantastic.”

  “No, it’s not,” Doreen grumbled. “I have absolutely nothing to go on. All of the cases I’ve worked on so far have had connections and trails, things I could follow up on. What am I supposed to do with a young man who walked away from his family’s backyard twenty-nine years ago, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Well, you can’t speak to the two people I mentioned because they’re both dead. They were killed in a car accident not long after Johnny disappeared.”

  “Oh.” Doreen walked into the kitchen and wrote that down on a notepad. “I wonder if it had anything to do with Johnny going missing?”

  “Meaning, they might have committed suicide because of what they did to Johnny?” Nan’s voice dropped. “You know what? I never even thought of that. You have a different perspective than most people. I’m glad you’re looking into this. Now it’s a big mystery I really want you to solve.”

  “I will try to solve it for Penny’s sake,” Doreen said, “but there isn’t anything here for me to work with. Otherwise I’m sure the police would have done something with it.”

  “Cold cases from before the widespread usage of the internet and cell phones and DNA,” Nan said, “just weren’t the same types of investigations. We have so many more tools available now.”

  “Sure, but there was no body, no crime scene,” she said. “We don’t even know if he is dead or not. There were so many runaway kids back then that no one even tracked them. I swear it’s in the thousands every year now.”

  “I think it’s probably more than that,” Nan said. “But, back then, we didn’t have any way to maintain communication or to share databases between provinces. For all we know, Johnny went to Ontario and built a life for himself there.”

  “Did he have a vehicle, do you know?” Doreen asked.

  “Yes,” Nan said. “It was an old car. I don’t know what kind it was, but I do remember it was the car the two guys killed themselves in.”

  Doreen straightened. “His friends were driving his car?”

  “Yeah. We were all wondering what that was about, but the police didn’t seem to think anything of it. When Johnny first disappeared his car did too, so we just thought he’d drive home any time. Only he didn’t and the boys died while driving it.”

  “I suspect they
did think something of it,” she said, “but, if the car didn’t reveal any evidence, then I’m not sure they had anything to go on.”

  “True,” Nan said. “But you might want to cross-reference their case to Johnny’s.”

  “Sure. What were their names again?”

  “Burgess and Black.”

  “Okay. Got it.” She wrote them down, then said, “I’ll send Mack an email, asking if they’re mentioned in the case files.”

  “Ha! He’s a great source of information for you.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Doreen said with a smile. “He’s not allowed to tell me much. But, in an unusual twist, the police commander stopped me yesterday on my way home after we found the two bodies in the lake. He shook my hand and thanked me.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Isn’t that lovely? Peter Cochran is a nice guy,” Nan said. “He was a little young for me, but, for a weekend or so, he was great fun.”

  Doreen’s eyes popped wide open. “Are you saying you had an affair with the commander?”

  “A very long time ago,” Nan said with a delightful laugh. “He wanted more, but I wasn’t the right person for him. He needed a wife, three kids, two dogs, one cat, and that perfect house with a white picket fence.” She chuckled. “But that doesn’t change the fact he is good at his job, and I’m very happy he did well by you.”

  Doreen was still struck by the admission that Nan had had an affair with a police commander. “If you know anybody at the old folks’ home who has any information on Johnny’s disappearance, let me know, will you?”

  “Why don’t you come down and have tea?” Nan said. “I’ll get more details from you on yesterday too.”

  Just then Doreen remembered the letter she’d found underneath the bed. “Nan, that’s an excellent idea. I have something to show you anyway.”

  “I’ll put on the teakettle. You get the animals and come on down.” Nan sighed. “I have to admit, I could use a hug today.” And she hung up.

  Chapter 8

  Thursday Late Morning …

  It took a few minutes to round up the animals. Mugs was well-mannered, until he heard the leash rattle; then he barked all over the place, chasing Goliath, who appeared to take deep offense and cornered Mugs in the kitchen, swatting at him twice. Trying to separate the two was not fun.

  Finally she got them all calmed down with a treat or two and had another pocketful of treats handy. With Thaddeus on her shoulder, she opened the kitchen door, and all four of them headed out to Nan’s place, via the creek. There was just no other path for her. Any chance she had, she chose to walk by the water. Besides, she wanted to avoid her front yard and anybody wanting to talk to her.

  So many things had changed since she had moved here. The animals were just one part of it. She used to deal well with people, mostly because she had a polished glossy tone, not giving offense, not taking offense, kinda like being dead inside. And now here she did everything she could to avoid people, at least certain people.

  She was happy to see the sun shining. She loved the way the long shadows of the sun’s arms touched on the green leaves as they gently waved in the wind. This was a nice thing about her house being on the creek; it was in a bit of a valley, and the wind whistled down with such gentleness that it always made her smile. Listening to the water, listening to the wind and the birds, it was incredibly peaceful.

  She wasn’t sure when, if ever in all of her marriage, she’d had an opportunity to enjoy Mother Nature as much as she did here. And who knew it was something she would fall in love with, without actual gardening involved. Here she could listen to the birds for hours, just sitting beside the creek, dipping her toes in the icy water, even though she knew what had come out of it in the last couple weeks. The creek remained special. It made her feel connected.

  She was thoroughly jealous of all those people who lived in the countryside. Not that she wanted to milk cows or to raise chickens for their eggs or anything, but she yearned to have some real space to wander without being hemmed in by houses or people. Yet what she had here was a great first step in that direction. She loved to dip her fingers in the creek, to feel that connection, that sense of peace, that oneness. How fanciful of her. Still, if she had learned one thing with all the recent chaos, it was that life was short, too short. What she really needed to do was find a way to make the most of what time she did have. She’d lost so much with her pending divorce, and yet, she’d already gained so much more. If she’d had any idea a life like this existed for her outside of her marriage, she’d have left a long time ago.

  Of course she hadn’t really left of her own choice. She’d been replaced. She’d fought it kicking and screaming; that had been because of fear—fear of what was happening, fear of what would happen to her afterward, fear of where she’d live, fear of the future. Those thoughts were so bad, so detrimental to her. Because of how absolutely stunningly wonderful her future was, even this early version of it.

  Smiling, she opened her arms wide and did a jig, dancing and twirling on the path. “I know, Mugs. I’m acting crazy,” she stated gaily. “But life is good. How can anybody not appreciate this?”

  Mugs barked, jumping around with her. She chuckled and resumed walking, her footsteps light, her heart even lighter. “Let’s go visit Nan,” she said. “Unlike us, she hasn’t had a good day.”

  In fact, her grandmother worried Doreen. Nan alternated between being “all there” in mind and in body and not even close. Now that Doreen finally had Nan back in her life again, Doreen didn’t want to lose her grandmother. She’d do anything to give that special woman another twenty years on earth with her.

  As it was, it was hard to know how to help her. Nan had friends and a busy life. She seemed to enjoy her current lifestyle too.

  Doreen had the photocopy of the letter she had taken from underneath the bed. She wasn’t sure if that would add to Nan’s despondency or if it would make her feel better. Doreen wanted it to make her grandmother feel better obviously.

  She was bringing back a lot of powerful memories. She didn’t want to upset Nan any more than she had to. She was the sweetest old lady. Okay, so she had this gambling habit. But it really wasn’t so much her gambling right now; it was Nan getting other people to gamble.

  At that, she laughed out loud. “Nan, you keep Mack hopping. That can’t be a bad thing.”

  She went around the corner, watching the traffic as they crossed the road. They weren’t very far from the old folks’ home. As she approached, she saw the gardener standing out front, talking to somebody. As soon as he saw her, he put his hands on his hips and pointed his finger at her. She stopped and asked, “And what is it you want me to do? I can’t take the animals in the building. So, if I don’t cut across the lawn, how do I get to Nan’s place?”

  “You come without the animals.” His voice was gruff. “It’s bad enough you walk on the grass, but now you get all the animals on it too.” He crossed his arms, not budging an inch.

  Not to be deterred, Doreen walked around the corner to where Nan sat with her teapot on a little bistro set. When she looked up and caught sight of Doreen, Nan waved gaily.

  “Oh, there you are,” she said.

  Doreen nodded, pointing at the gardener. “He won’t let me cross the lawn.”

  “Of course he will,” Nan said. And then she held up her finger. “Oh, right. I forgot all about those.”

  Curious as to what she was up to, Doreen watched as Nan bent, then stood, holding something heavy in her hand. At least it looked heavy because her grandmother’s arms were straining. She watched her grandmother study the patio, then the grass leading to the sidewalk, then very carefully placed one stepping stone on the grass. Then she repeated this until five were in the grass, leading from the sidewalk to her patio.

  The gardener roared and raced toward her. But it was too late. Doreen skipped easily from one to the other until she was in Nan’s little garden. Mugs and Goliath walked on the grass. The cat stopped short of
the patio, lay down, and twitched his tail.

  “That’s perfect.” Doreen leaned down to give Nan a hug.

  “That’s perfect. That’s perfect,” Thaddeus said.

  But the gardener was having nothing to do with it, picking up one of the stepping stones.

  Nan stopped him, crying out, “Leave those there. You won’t let her cross that lawn because it’ll hurt your grass. So now we fixed it. Put that back.”

  “I can’t,” he roared.

  Thaddeus squawked loudly.

  “The lawnmower will get caught on them every time.”

  “So dig them into the lawn,” Doreen said. “Just take a cutting knife, draw into the sod all the way around each of the stones, lift up the sod, and place the stones down.” She gave him a shrug. “That’s hardly a big deal for a gardener.”

  He glared at her. “We’ll see about that,” he snapped. He picked up the first stepping stone and carried it inside the old folks’ home.

  Nan sighed and sat down, reaching out to calm Thaddeus, whose feathers were ruffled from the raised voices. “Now he’ll complain to the manager.”

  “And what’s the manager likely to do?” Doreen asked curiously.

  “It depends if it’s a good day or a bad day,” Nan said with a smirk. “If he had fun with his girlfriend the night before, I’d probably get away with it. But, if they’re fighting, as they usually are, then he’ll get mad.”

  Doreen shook her head, sat down on the bistro chair, and smiled at her grandmother. “You look like you’ve had a tough day today, Nan.”

  Nan nodded. “I did. I had a bit of a tiff with an old friend.” She gave Doreen a wide smile. “We’ll get over it. We always do. But it’s a reminder that life is short, and, for those of us who have been around for a long time, we should know better, but we’re still human,” she said sadly.

  “I’m so sorry.” Doreen reached across the table and squeezed her grandmother’s hand gently. Her translucent skin worried Doreen. “Are you eating enough?” she asked. “Have you had lunch?”