Bound and Deceased

by Rothery, Tess

  “Taylor? Was there something else?” Gracie brought her back to the moment.

  “Not really. I was just worried about him. And wondering of course if his accident was related to his wife’s death.”

  “He doesn’t know. He says he remembers packing his bag because you were coming to pick him up, but then not wanting to wait around the house, so he went for a walk on the beach.”

  “But he didn’t leave a note for us.”

  “I guess he thought he’d come back in time.”

  “I don’t remember seeing his bag at the house.” Taylor closed her eyes and pictured the scene.

  “He said he carried it to the beach. He doesn’t know what happened to it.”

  “But he doesn’t remember falling huh?”

  “No. And since the crack to his skull is at the back, the assumption is that he was assaulted—hit from behind.”

  “I’m just really sorry this is happening to your family and friends.”

  “Thank you. We’re worried about the impact on Una. She’s at such a tender age of development.”

  “How old is she?”

  “She’s about to turn twelve. You know how adolescence is.”

  “Yeah, that is hard. I was the same age when I lost my father.”

  “Then you understand how much she is worrying. We’re going to take her away for Thanksgiving. Give her a distraction.”

  “That is very nice of you, but won’t she want to be near her dad?”

  Gracie sighed, the perk going out of her a bit. “You know how it is. He’s more like an uncle than a father. She’s worried about him, but not the way one might expect.”

  “Where will you be going?”

  “We have a little place down in Belize. It’s nothing much, but it’s an escape. And it’ll be a little bit warmer anyway.”

  “That’s quite a trip for a short stay.”

  “Don’t I know it. But even three or four days away from this will help, we think.”

  “Of course, enjoy yourself.” Taylor ended the call and immediately called the sherrif’s office. Sissy, Gracie and Taylor had looked for Art. But Taylor had no idea where Guy had been while they were looking, or Una for that matter. And now Gracie, Guy, and Una were leaving the country. That seemed like something worth calling in.

  The deputy who took her message sounded like she cared, but who knows with professionals.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Taylor and Belle were in the car driving to Portland for Thanksgiving when Sissy finally called again. The long break from detective work had been invaluable for getting ready for Black Friday sales.

  All of the Comfort Quilt Shops had decided to do a “Spooky Good” sale featuring the Halloween and Halloween-adjacent prints they hadn’t been able to unload during the summer. It sounded crazy on paper, but not to quilters. Crafting takes time—when you’re in the mood to be surrounded by a certain season’s fabrics, it’s too late to sell it to people who need to make their projects.

  The play on black in Black Friday, combined with black cats and bats and witches’ hats and general spookiness was a fun new idea they had all liked. Taylor had shelled out some money on radio ads in the local area, and really hoped it would work. Shara insisted on Facebook ads, but Taylor didn’t put her faith in them. She promised to poll her customers. They’d see if anyone admitted to coming to town because of something they saw on their Facebook feed.

  They were well on their way, headed North on Highway 99 when Sissy called. Taylor had her phone on Bluetooth so it would use the car speakers, but she didn’t like it. Not with Grandpa Ernie in the car. He’d have too many questions about the murder. Taylor answered it anyway. “Happy Thanksgiving, Sissy.”

  “Thank you. It’s just awful, of course. I didn’t know if you had plans, so I wanted to let you know you’d all be welcome over here.”

  Taylor’s heart gave a little twist. Sissy was the last person she wanted to spend the holiday with, but it was such a nice offer. And Taylor hadn’t even thought of checking on what Sissy might have needed during the sad holiday.

  “It’s the first Thanksgiving without your mom, after all,” Sissy added.

  The twist in Taylor’s heart turned into a little sob.

  “We’re headed up to Portland to spend the day with the Kirbys. You know, Belle’s….” Ug. Taylor still couldn’t really say it out loud.

  “Ah, yes. Colleen and Dave. That’s really nice of you. Very generous.”

  Sissy was right. It was kind and generous. Even though all Taylor was bringing was a cherry gelatin and fruit salad she’d picked up at the grocery store after work the night before. “Is everyone coming to your place? Like, Fawn and Monty and…”

  “As you know, Gracie, Guy and Una all left the country. Like you, I find that terribly suspicious. Art is out of the hospital, but still sore. He’ll be with Gilly and Jason. But yes, Fawn and Monty are here with me. I thought they might go off to his parents, but he said Fawn wanted to stick around. I don’t blame her. His folks are a bit iffy. Always have been. It’s not that they’re poor, God knows we’ve all been poor. It’s just they are such heavy drinkers and they seem to wallow in their poverty. I can’t take it much. I knew them when Fawn and Monty met, and hoped they wouldn’t stick, but what can you do? Love is blind.”

  “I hear you. There’s poverty and then there’s…” Taylor had words for it, but they felt cruel.

  “Foolishness,” Grandpa Ernie supplied.

  “Hi Ernie,” Sissy hollered. “You’re right. Lots of folks are poor, but they don’t have to be fools too. Dayton and family are going to eat with us even though there’s half a million Ruebens in this town they could eat with, but that’s okay because Dayna Rueben makes the best zwieback. Have you had that? You should. I think they serve it at Reuben’s during holiday season.”

  “Sissy, is everything okay?” Taylor wasn’t used to her rambling like this. She wasn’t quiet by any means, but usually if she was saying a lot, it was because she had a lot that needed to be said.

  “No. I am not okay. I was really looking forward to having my best friend live in town after all these years. I just…honestly Taylor, I’m just real broken up about this.”

  Taylor was silent for a moment as she navigated early morning holiday traffic in McMinnville. “I know. I’m sad today too.”

  “If you need a break you can call me anytime today, okay? Don’t know how it will be at the Kirby house, but you might need to step away from it for a minute and have a listening ear.”

  “Thanks Sissy. And…same goes for you. I’m just a phone call away.” They ended the call.

  Sissy…that bossy bully of a woman…she wasn’t all bad.

  Belle was in the backseat, AirPods in her ears. Her hair wasn’t black anymore. She had cut that off sometime between September and this weekend. The roots were just long enough to be a perky pixie cut. But it wasn’t the golden blonde it used to be. It was sort of dishwater blonde now. Neither brown nor gold. An indifferent color Taylor couldn’t blame Belle for wanting to change. Her head was leaned back, and her eyes were closed. She might or might not have been listening to anything. The AirPods, an absurd expense in Taylor’s opinion, had been called a “school expense” and her trust had paid for them. Taylor had wanted to say no, but Grandma Quinny cautioned Taylor to pick her battles very carefully, and it was a fact that headphones were a necessary tool on a university campus. Taylor agreed with that, of course, and bit her tongue rather than suggesting the generic earbuds from the dollar store.

  * * *

  The Kirby house was decorated to the nines. Colleen had stacked haybales under her porch roof, and scarecrows in her foyer. She had silk maple leave garland around the windows and wreathes that matched hanging on every wall. The table was set with a golden tablecloth and the dishes were cream, decorated with gold filigree. Her young sons were playing video games in the front room, probably to keep them around instead of losing them in the hidden depths of the house wh
ere they had a fully stocked rich-kid playroom.

  Taylor took a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly aroma of garlic, basil, tomatoes and that special sausage from the Italian deli in town. She couldn’t get enough, but it didn’t smell a thing like Thanksgiving.

  Dave’s daughter Ashleigh was on the couch drinking coffee from a large maroon mug. “Don’t fight it,” Ashleigh said. “Grandma Kirby was Italian. All our holiday meals feature a first course of lasagna. But, don’t panic either. There is a turkey in the oven.”

  Taylor laughed and felt her shoulders fall, not realizing they had been tense. Ashleigh and Taylor had met twice before, but Taylor still struggled with feelings of envy.

  Ashleigh seemed to relate to Belle as a stepsister so easily. She was only a little younger than Taylor and that was awkward as well. Taylor was the big sister, and Belle was the little sister. With Ashleigh right between them, it disrupted the natural order.

  And yet, Ashleigh was all right.

  Colleen brought Taylor her own maroon mug of coffee.

  Just the right amount of cream.

  Colleen was so eager to please, she never failed to make Taylor nervous.

  Belle gave Colleen a quick hug. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “I’m so glad you could all come. Ernie, can I get you a seat?”

  “I’ve been sitting for two hours. I want to stand.” He stood, a bit shaking, and leaning on his cane, but Colleen didn’t push him.

  “Coffee, then? You take yours black?”

  He nodded, his frown turning up at the corners. “That’s right.”

  “Ernie!” Dave Kirby, the man with the Italian mother, came into the room, arms open. “Colleen made the lasagna like my mother makes it, and meatballs too. And pumpkin ravioli—the kids love it. And even better, Colleen let me make sausage and mozzarella stuffing.”

  Grandpa Ernie frowned again, but this time it was comically exaggerated. “This is worse than you bringing spaghetti to the Fourth of July.”

  “You love it, Ernesto! You love it.”

  Grandpa laughed.

  “Come with me to the garage, Ernie. I have a problem that you could fix for me.”

  Grandpa Ernie had been a dab hand at machine repair, and Dave was a dab hand at making guests feel comfortable. They walked slowly together to the garage where something waited to be fixed. Taylor wondered if Dave had broken it on purpose just to make Grandpa Ernie feel needed.

  “Can I help with anything?” Taylor went into the kitchen with her sad little plastic container of Jell-O salad.

  “Ooh, the boys love this!” Colleen accepted the tub from her with a smile and put it in the fridge. “With all that gooey Jell-O and whip cream, they don’t even notice they’re eating fruit.”

  Colleen had offered her a place in the family, fitting in as one of her flock since Taylor was her child’s sister, but Taylor still had a hard time thinking of the little boys as any kind of relation. They were just…kids. Small. And boys. She didn’t know about boy children one way or the other. All the babysitting Taylor had ever done had been for her own sister.

  “I heard there was another tragedy in Comfort.” Colleen was tossing a salad.

  “Yeah, there was. Kind of sad. Do you know Sissy Dorney?”

  “The name’s familiar but it’s been a while.” Colleen had left town in her late teens and lived rough for many years. She had been clean for a decade—slightly over now—but much of her old life was a blur.

  “Sissy is a family friend. You’ve heard Belle talk about Cooper—Sissy is his mom.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve heard of Levi, the boy at the college, but not Cooper. I met Dayton, are they all friends?”

  Taylor tilted her head a little. Belle hadn’t told Colleen about her long-time best friend? That seemed sad. There had been a time Taylor would have been giddy to know stuff Colleen didn’t. But sitting in this kitchen overflowing with food she had prepared to show them she loved them made it just seem sad. “Yeah,” Taylor said. “They’re all friends. Well, anyway. Sissy’s aunt had remarried just a week before she died. They had moved to town for a job at Comfort College of Art and Craft…” Taylor told Colleen a short version of the story.

  “Poor Sissy. I can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.”

  “She thinks trying to prove Reynette’s death was a murder will make her feel better.”

  Colleen set the bowl of salad aside and nodded, her face serious. “It might. I think it really helped Belle.”

  “Please let me help with something.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry. I just…I get nervous, you know? And I try to keep busy. There isn’t really anything to do right now. Maybe, um…” She pulled out a loaf of Italian bread. “If you slice that open and butter the two halves, we can toast it later.”

  “Garlic salt, too?” Taylor was appalled at the idea of garlic bread with Thanksgiving dinner, but at the same time it would be an improvement over the canned dinner rolls her mom had always made.

  “Well, actually,” her words were apologetic. “Dave only likes to use his garlic butter for this. Here.” She passed her a little dish that was butter and fresh garlic mixed.

  Taylor followed directions as Colleen fussed around the kitchen. She seemed to be moving things from here to there for no reason. “Colleen go sit with Belle. I’ll be fine in here. When I’m done, I’ll top off my coffee and join you.” Taylor was going extra slow on purpose. It really didn’t take any time to slice a loaf of bread in half and butter it. There were two loaves though and Taylor did them both.

  Ashleigh joined her in the kitchen and topped off her own cup. “We won’t eat till almost four. You’ll starve if you don’t have something.” She pulled a box of donuts out of a cupboard and passed them over. “I begged Belle to eat but she refused.”

  “She hates food in the morning.” Taylor took a nice big maple bar. “Thanks.”

  “Blending families is awkward at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

  “Probably so.”

  “Come, sit with me.”

  Taylor followed Ashleigh to a little dining area off the kitchen—a breakfast room but quite a bit bigger than the average one. Considering the house also had a table in the kitchen and the formal dining room done up in gold, Taylor was again impressed by the sheer size of the place.

  “The hardest part of combining families is the weirdness of traditions, don’t you think? Didn’t you and Clay find that?”

  “I guess Belle told you about him?”

  “Yup. She did.”

  “It was a little weird when we first moved in together, but we got used to each other.”

  “But what about when you got together with each other’s families? That’s when it gets hard. Like the Italian food at every holiday. That was a big deal to Colleen at first, but she’d never admit it. She is way too eager to be loved.”

  “There are worse things to be eager for…”

  “Yeah, I know. She only relaxes around the boys. Not even around Dad. But anyway. You get it.”

  “To be honest, my life in retail management meant I didn’t really do holidays with Clay’s family. I almost always had to work. And the years that I didn’t, I ran home to see Belle and Mom.”

  “Ah.” Ashleigh said it like it explained something to her. “Then I guess this is your first taste. I’m just saying…it’s hard at first, but that’s normal. Everyone feels this way. Like everything going on around you is somehow wrong.”

  “Was it like that for you when Colleen married your dad?”

  “Oh my gosh yes. First off, she couldn’t cook at all. Back then grandma was still around so she’d do all the cooking for us. She taught Colleen, praise the Lord. But also, Colleen’s sober. She’s awesome about it, but having a sober person around an Italian family during the holidays? I was used to red wine flowing like water, but once Dad remarried, that stopped.

  “But you were a kid, you didn’t drink it.”

  “You don’t know
Italians. Not that I had full glasses or anything. But it was different after they got married. Grandpa and Grandma would fill their glasses quietly in the kitchen and bring them to the table when they used to make a big fuss about it.”

  “Did they like Colleen?”

  “Did my elderly ex-military grandfather and traditional first generation-Italian-American grandmother like my dad’s ex-junky of a new wife?”

  “I see.”

  She nodded. “But we all like her now.”

  “Because your grandparents are dead?”

  Ashleigh laughed. “That would be it exactly. Colleen could never have won them over, but you can’t help but love someone who is always putting so much energy into being lovable.”

  “Wait, didn’t you just say she was too eager to be loved?”

  “Yeah, I think it must be awful to be her. Nervous all the time, terrified that you’re going to do it wrong. I feel for her. But it’s certainly easy to love someone who is constantly putting that much energy into being lovable.”

  Taylor wondered how true that was. She found herself resenting it. But maybe that would change with time. That said, she also wondered about Reynette. She’d been loved by one and all, even her new husband’s ex-wife. Was that because she had been a…a try-hard like Colleen? Had she been exerting so much energy into being lovable at all times that she just snapped one day and ended it all? To Taylor, that seemed as likely as getting herself killed in such an improbable manner.

  The car was quiet driving home. Belle had accepted the offer to stay the night and go Black Friday shopping with Colleen and Ashleigh the next day. After all, Taylor would just be working so she wouldn’t miss her sister, right? Ashleigh would bring her back on Saturday. That was the plan. They all agreed. Taylor hated it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The skies broke clear and blue. The sun shone and the day warmed up to sixty. They couldn’t have ordered a better day for their Black Friday sale. The advertising efforts were rewarded with hordes of people, Halloween stock selling out, and shelves of other fabric disappearing by the bolt full. As agreed, all four stores closed at seven that night and met at the bar in town for celebratory drinks.