Murder Is Where the Heart Is

by Maddie Cochere

  I flopped down onto Mama’s sofa. My head was ready to explode. I hadn’t had a headache this bad in months.

  The evening had started out well enough. I was first to arrive, and I took advantage of the one-on-one time to set her straight about scaring Keith. She tried to defend herself and say he knew she was just teasing, but I threatened to put her in a nursing home before her time if she didn’t quit teasing him. She knew I didn’t mean it about the nursing home, but she knew I was serious about Keith. She promised to behave.

  It wasn’t often that Mama and I had conversations without some type of drama. She was critical of most of my decisions in life, and she was especially critical that I wanted to be a private investigator. It was a bit of a treat then that we carried on a pleasant conversation before anyone else arrived. She finally got around to the murders.

  “Bee and I were in the beauty shop yesterday,” she said. “There was a lot of talk about the killings in town and how you’re involved in all of them.”

  “I know it looks that way, but I’m not. I wasn’t anywhere near the Kate Fuller murder, and I just happened to go back to Alan’s and find the bodies there.”

  “Aren’t you worried about your prints on the gun? I keep hearing you’re going to be arrested.”

  I began to bristle. Mama wasn’t picking or nagging. For once, I think she was truly concerned, but hearing I might be arrested yet again was wearing on my nerves.

  “I’m not going to be arrested. I admitted to firing the gun, and Sergeant Rorski had no problem with my explanation.”

  Mama smiled. “I don’t know how you get yourself into the situations you do, but I get big laughs when I tell about you shooting that mirror.” She threw herself into a crouched position and pretended to fire a gun directly in front of her.

  I might have been the one to start some drama if Pepper and the kids hadn’t come through the door right then.

  Pepper sidled up to me and whispered, “Don’t let the kids know where we were today. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t want Buck to know I was gawking at naked men.”

  I smiled and nodded my head.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Mama asked.

  Mama was a tyrant when it came to secrets. I knew she wouldn’t let it go until one of us gave her a satisfactory answer.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Pepper was just asking if Glenn was still coming. She wasn’t whispering. You need a hearing aid.”

  She scowled and said, “I can hear just fine.”

  She might have pushed the issue, but Keith piped up.

  “Did you turn in my report? Did you catch Mr. Chester?”

  I smiled at his enthusiasm. “I turned in your report, and it will help to catch Mr. Chester committing fraud. He’ll have to pay the money back to the insurance company, and he’ll probably get six months in jail.”

  Keith’s chest puffed out and a big smile crossed his face. “I think I want to be an investigator, too,” he said.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Mama said. “One person getting into trouble in this family is enough. Jo’s going to be in jail soon.”

  Keith looked shocked. I mumbled to Mama as I walked past her, “Knock it off.”

  I grabbed paper plates and plastic utensils from the counter and asked Kelly to help me get the picnic table ready in the back yard. Pepper grabbed a couple of tablecloths and followed. I heard Mama trying to back-peddle her comment to Keith.

  “Your Aunt Jo didn’t do anything wrong. If they put her in jail, it will be a mistake, but we’ll go visit her every Sunday.”

  I walked out the back door and stood dumbstruck. I wasn’t prepared for the macabre scene in the yard.

  “What the cheese and crackers happened out here?” I asked.

  “It’s disturbing, isn’t it?” Pepper asked.

  “I think it’s cool,” Kelly said.

  “Did you and Keith do this?”

  She nodded her head. “Sort of. We painted the fence in all the different colors, but Grandmama used black spray paint over it then. I don’t know who helped her hang the bodies in the trees.”

  Mama’s yard looked as if it was a scene from a Halloween haunted house. It was obvious the fence had been painted a rainbow of colors and was probably pretty when the kids had finished. But Mama’s black spray paint had obliterated all of the bright color with the exception of some faint reminders around the edges of each board. The fence gave off a sinister vibe.

  The pumpkins were over the top. There had to be at least thirty carved pumpkins in the yard – all with carvings of the creepy variety. The three effigies hanging in the trees were equally disturbing.

  I looked to Pepper for help. “How did she…? What was she…? Who…?”

  I was at a loss for words.

  “Don’t ask me. I have no idea who talked her into this or helped her do it.” She pointed to a second picnic table that was along the fence. “You kids move those pumpkins and bring that table over to this one. We’ll push them together. Grandmama said we need ten place settings.”

  “Ten?” I asked. “Why ten? Who else is coming besides Glenn and Hank?”

  “I don’t know that either. I’m just here for the lasagna.”

  Hank showed up with a cooler full of beer and a couple bottles of wine with screw caps. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but tonight, wine sounded good with lasagna. I had Keith run in to grab plastic cups.

  A few minutes later, Mama brought out a salad with a basket full of sliced Italian bread balanced on top. Hank was right behind her with the large pan of lasagna. My mouth began to water. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw the food. I was ready to dig in.

  “We don’t have to wait for Glenn,” I said. “He’s obviously going to be late, so he can eat whenever he gets here.”

  “It won’t kill you to wait a while longer,” Mama said.

  She sat down at the end of the table. Kelly sat beside her, then Pepper, and then Keith. Hank took the seat on the end, directly across from me. I was the only one on my side of the table.

  “What? Do I have bad breath? Body odor?”

  Pepper laughed. “I’m doing damage control between the kids. Glenn can sit beside you, and I have no idea who the other three places are for.”

  Before Mama could tell us, Alan walked into the yard. What was he doing here?

  “Alan,” Mama squealed in her raspy smoker’s voice and jumped up to give him a hug. “You look wonderful. I’m glad you could make it. I’ve missed you.”

  Pepper was watching me closely. I gave her a look that let her know I was doing a slow burn inside.

  Alan came around the table and sat down beside me. He was positively exuberant.

  “This is great. Just like old times, isn’t it?”

  “That seat is taken,” I told him.

  “What? We’re in high school again?”

  I didn’t have a chance to argue before Doug Preston came out the back door.

  “No one answered my knock, so I just came on through. I hope that was ok,” he said.

  I couldn’t believe it when Mama stood to give him a hug, too. Mama wasn’t a hugger. What was wrong with her? And why in the world would she have invited Doug to a family dinner?

  She thanked him for coming and pointed to the seat next to Alan. Doug greeted everyone and took off his driving gloves before shaking Alan’s hand. I thought it was ridiculous that he wore driving gloves all year round.

  It was Pepper’s turn to do a slow burn. She hated Doug with a passion going back to their one and only date in high school. He took her to the prom, convinced her she was the girl for him, and he became her “first.” After that night, he never spoke to her at school again. It’s entirely possible he had completely forgotten the encounter all these years later, but Pepper hadn’t. Her hope was that one day I would find his body, too.

  “Hey, I’m glad you’re here,” he said to Alan. “I’ve been wanting to get in touch with you. Maybe we can talk later. I’m
going to write an article, and I’d like to get your take on what happened at your house, and if you think your ex-wife had anything to do with it.”

  “I’m right here, Doug,” I said dryly.

  Alan laughed. “Jo? Of course she didn’t have anything to do with it. Her only crime was murdering an antique mirror.”

  Doug looked confused. Clearly, no one had told him why the mirror was broken when he showed up at the crime scene.

  As if everything wasn’t bizarre enough, a man riding a Harley drove into the yard from the open gate at the side of the house. Mama clapped her hands.

  He parked the bike, got off, and removed his helmet. I was stunned to see he was the tattooed wonder from the flea market. I was more stunned to see Mama walk over and give him a hug and a peck on the lips.

  Pepper and I exchanged wide-eyed glances.

  “Did you know?” I whispered.

  “Not at all,” she said.

  Hank was the one who was laughing. He always thought Mama was funny. “So, she’s got a boyfriend,” he said. “Cut her some slack. It’s about time.”

  Yes, it was about time, but Mama had never dated anyone in all the years since our father left when I was five. As far as I knew, Mama was still married to him.

  She pulled the man by his arm over to the table and said, “Everyone, this is Roger.”

  She then proceeded to go around the table and make introductions. There was no recognition in his eyes when she came to me, so I assumed he didn’t remember me from the teapot incident.

  Mama instructed Roger to sit in the seat across from her. If Glenn showed up, the only seat left for him was between Roger and Doug. For once, I hoped he couldn’t make it.

  The food was passed, and no one spoke for a few minutes while they shoveled dinner into their mouths. My appetite left when Alan showed up, so I only picked at the food on my plate. I did, however, have one of the bottles of wine in front of me, and I had no problem drinking wine for dinner.

  Hank decided to kick off the conversation.

  “Mama, how did you and Roger meet?”

  Her face lit up. “We met online.”

  “Ew,” Kelly said. “That’s dangerous. You should never meet people online.”

  Pepper shushed her.

  “This was safe,” Mama said. “I got on the Facebook. I started on the Tweeter, but it was too fast for me, so I tried the Facebook. I have a wall and pictures and everything. I put up pictures of you kids when you were little, too.”

  There was no way this could be good. She had tons of pictures from when we were kids that weren’t appropriate for today’s viewing public.

  Pepper looked horrified. “You better not have any of those bathtub pictures on there. You’ll go to jail for those.”

  She laughed. “I only put up a couple. It’s so cute to see all three of you taking baths together.”

  “Ew,” Kelly said again. “Mom used to take baths with Uncle Hank? And you put naked pictures of her online?”

  Keith screwed up his face and looked disgusted.

  Now it was Hank’s turn to get worked up. “Mama, this is no joke. You can’t put naked pictures of children online even if they’re your own kids. It’s considered child pornography. You need to take them down right after dinner. If Glenn finds out, he’ll arrest you on the spot.”

  “Who’s Glenn?” Alan asked.

  Nobody answered him. I took another long drink of the wine. There was no sipping this wine.

  “All right. All right,” Mama said. “I’ll take them down. Anyway … I met Roger through AMOP. I found it on the Facebook.”

  “A mop?” Keith asked. “How did you meet him with a mop?”

  “Not a mop. AMOP,” Mama said. “It stands for America Matches Old People. It’s for seniors. You sign up and put your profile online. People come along and match you up with other seniors who’ve signed up in your geographic location. When ten people have matched you with the same person, you go out on a date. That’s how it works.”

  I poured another glass of wine. “Mama, you’re not a senior,” I said. “And I’m guessing from the looks of Roger, he’s not a senior either.”

  Mama was only fifty-six years old. Hardly a senior.

  “I originally wanted an older man. Who knew Roger here would show up and be a perfect match?”

  “I’ve never heard of AMOP,” Pepper said. “Are there a lot of people there looking for dates?”

  “Roger and I are the only ones signed up so far in this part of Ohio, so I suppose it was easy for people to match us up. He works at the flea market, same as Jo.”

  “I don’t work at the flea market, Mama,” I said and chugged more wine. My headache worsened, but it didn’t bother me too much. Everything else was starting to feel numb.

  “He has a nice space there,” she said. “I gave him a few things to sell for me.”

  I glared at Mama. The teapot that shattered had surely been Grandma Frasier’s. I stood to give her and Roger a piece of my mind, but Glenn strode into the yard through the side gate. Mama jumped up and ran to give him a hug. I had no idea who she had become.

  I plopped back down onto the bench.

  Pepper looked at me with sympathy in her eyes. I poured more wine and was only able to fill half my cup before realizing the bottle was empty.

  Glenn came over to stand beside me at the end of the table. I looked up at him through the headache and wine fog and said, “Hello.”

  I could tell he was uncomfortable, but he also had good manners. He reached across me to extend his hand to Alan. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Glenn Wheeler.”

  Alan stood and shook his hand. “You’re the new boyfriend? Nice to meet you. And hey, if you ever want to spend the evening or stay overnight, just say the word, and I’ll clear out. I’m sure Mama will let me stay here every now and then.

  Of course, Mama beamed at the possibility of having Alan stay the night, but Glenn was baffled.

  “What are you talking about? Why would I want to stay at your place?”

  “Not my place,” Alan said. “Jo’s place. I’m staying with her for a while.”

  Even through my haze, I could see the surprised, maybe even hurt, look on Glenn’s face. Pepper’s lips were pulled tight, and I knew she was irritated I hadn’t talked to Glenn about Alan.

  I stood and said, “I don’t feel so good. I’m going in to lie down on the sofa.”

  I left Glenn to fend for himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  The house was quiet. There were no breakfast odors wafting up from the kitchen. Alan was gone.

  It only took a few moments before the memory of dinner at Mama’s the night before came flooding in. I felt remorse for ditching Glenn and even more for not telling him about Alan.

  I showered and threw on comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. I planned to talk with Gretchen Grayson this morning, but I also wanted to canvass Clara Bartoli’s neighborhood and ask residents if they had seen Angus McFeely.

  My head still hurt from too much wine, but it was a dull, bearable ache. I took a couple of aspirin and hoped for the best.

  The murder room door was still closed. I walked to the end of the hallway and opened it. It appeared to be as I had left it yesterday, so I was fairly certain Alan hadn’t been snooping around.

  I looked over the whiteboard again. Mike Shay continued to stand out as the person who most likely committed the murders. The thong, handcuffs, and bowtie were on my desk. I hadn’t yet asked Alan about them.

  Even though I wasn’t planning to get involved in Kate Fuller’s murder, Hank had stopped by Mama’s sofa last night and told me something that made me want to section off a small part of the board and jot down some information.

  Inside a square I wrote:

  Kate Fuller

  Brick Brack

  Brick left the garage at the time of the murder

  With Hank being a part-time bouncer at Parker’s Tavern, he was often in a position to eavesdrop.
He overheard a couple of the customers talking about Kate’s murder. One of them said he saw Brick leave the garage around six fifteen the night of the murder. The customer was drunk and walking toward the Ace Taxi garage at the end of the block to get a ride home. That’s when he saw Brick leave. He waited for a half hour, but Brick didn’t come back, so he walked back to the bar.

  The police may have released Brick, but he was still number one on my list for having killed Kate. He was too nervous and jittery to be innocent. Why he would have abducted Leslie or how he managed to have a ransom note delivered while he was in jail was a mystery. It was possible the two events were unrelated, but I didn’t think so.

  I closed the door and went down to the kitchen to make coffee. Two jars of Mama’s homemade bread and butter pickles sat in the middle of the breakfast counter. She must have sent them home with Alan.

  I opened a jar and munched on a few while I waited for the coffee to brew. I loved Mama’s pickles. If nothing else, Mama was a great cook, and she was just as great when it came to canning fruits and vegetables. The pickles weren’t as sweet as I remembered, but they were better than nothing for breakfast, and with Alan not here to cook, there was nothing.

  I wasn’t in the mood to talk with Pepper or Arnie just yet. I grabbed my coffee and drove over to the east side of town to Songbird Allotment where Clara lived.

  The allotment was an older neighborhood with ranch style homes and duplexes. Clara lived on Robin Street, which was the last street at the back of the allotment. I parked three doors down from hers and trudged up the drive to the first house.

  A woman with serious bed hair clutched her bathrobe to herself as she peeked out the door.

  I’m Jo Ravens, private investigator,” I told her. “I’m looking for Mrs. Bartoli’s terrier, Angus McFeely. Have you seen him around the neighborhood?”

  “That stupid dog of hers? It’s missing? I hadn’t noticed. Can’t say I’m not glad to see it go.”

  She shut the door in my face.

  “I’m leaving my card in your door,” I called out. “If you happen to see him, give me a call.”

  I had a nearly identical reaction at the next house.