The Locked Room

by Marti Talbott

  With that, Paige Fowler’s three surviving children walked out of the room. A moment later, the door opened again and Steven leaned back in, “By the way, Grandpa took the money back. He put it in the hall closet right before you burned the house down.” Steven loudly slammed the door behind him.

  Paige Bouchard Fowler gasped.

  At first, her speech was not distorted when she repeated the unbelievable words Steven said – he took the money back? Soon, the sounds coming out of her mouth turned to mumbles. By the time the sheriff came to take Paige back to her cell, she was babbling something no one in the world would ever be able to understand. He watched her scrunched up face, the way she rapidly tapped her finger on the table, and wondered if she was truly insane, or if it was an act.

  That was something for the courts to decide.

  ANDY TUCKER WAS BACK in his home, resting in his easy chair when he decided to return a favor. After he took Margot home and heard about Paige’s current state of mind, he did some looking and found out where Mary Martin had been all those years. As far as he was concerned, that wrapped everything up. He found the reporter’s number on his cell, called and waited.

  “Joe Dixon.”

  “Paige Fowler has been arrested.”

  Seated at his newspaper office cubical, Joe sat up a little straighter and gave the caller his full attention. “They caught her? Did they find the money?”

  “You want an exclusive?”

  Joe reached for his notepad and ink pen. “You bet I do. Who are you?”

  “Andy Tucker. You called to tell me about Davet’s death.”

  “I remember. Did you catch her?”

  “No, her sons did.”

  “Really?”

  “If’ you’re ready, I’ll start at the beginning.”

  “All set here.” Joe began to furiously write as Andy told him a whole host of things Joe never knew about the case. Andy mentioned her botched surgery, the mental institution, the name she lived under, and how she got caught. What he didn’t mention was the names of her surviving children. He was saving that for the novel he’d decided to start writing the next morning.

  “The money?” Joe insisted.

  “Oh that,” Andy teased. “Well, Bouchard took it back and it burned up in the fire.”

  “No kidding?” Andy heard Joe say right before he hung up.

  STEVEN’S WIFE CAME the next day, they spent another two days in Lost Bell getting to know everyone, and Oliver found a duplex apartment to rent across the street from Emma Rose.

  At last, it was time to do something special, so Colette cut the white roses off Davet’s prize bushes and the three of them, plus Steven’s wife, set out to visit their grandfather’s grave. Each of his grandchildren laid a bouquet of flowers on the freshly replaced ground – Steven at the top, Oliver in the middle and Colette at the bottom. Then they stood back. Colette let a few tears fall, wiped them away and then asked a question she’d been meaning to ask, “So why didn’t he keep us together?”

  “Margot said he already knew he had cancer and he was afraid he wouldn’t have the strength to take care of two busy little boys.” Steven winked at Colette, “Especially Oliver. He was a little brat.”

  “Was not...” Oliver complained, “that I remember.”

  “Anyway,” Steven continued. “Grandpa had two best friends from Law school and when he told them what had happened, one offered to take me and the other one took bothersome Oliver. They were both lawyers, both married and both starting a family, so we got really lucky. If the cancer came back and Grandpa died, Aunt Margot would have taken you.”

  “And your arm?” she asked Steven.

  “Yeah, well my dad in Rapid City had a brother who was a doctor and he did the skin grafts. He did a pretty good job too.”

  “Was the pain awful?”

  “I was only seven. Kids heal fast and I think they kept me sedated a lot. I don’t remember suffering as much as I remember missing my family. I had nightmares for a long time, but my new mom used to stroke my hair and sing to me while I went back to sleep. I didn’t know moms could be that loving, so it didn’t take long for me to be happy with my new family.”

  “My parents were great too,” said Oliver. “Like Steven said, Grandpa came to see me every six months. When I turned twelve and copped an, ‘I know everything already,’ attitude, he told me Steven wanted to talk to me on the phone.” Oliver chuckled, “Steven who? I asked. We’ve been running up our parent’s phone bills ever since.” I didn’t know about what happened until Steven started telling me and that’s when I discovered I didn’t already know everything after all.”

  Colette put her arm around Oliver. “I’m glad you’re here now and that you’re staying. Hey, you wanna go look for old man Lankton’s grave? All you gotta do is climb that mountain.” She started to walk with him back to his car. “Maybe that strange shadow will come back.”

  “What strange shadow?” Oliver asked.

  “The one I told you about, remember?”

  “Oh, that shadow.”

  Afterward they left the cemetery, Steven and his bride set out to continue their honeymoon, and then Margot called to say she was having dinner with Andy Tucker next week. Oliver and Colette were happy for all of them.

  A FEW DAYS LATER, EMMA Rose and Colette were struggling to decided what to do with the restaurant. Artie had a house to show and Ben would soon be going back to the Navy, but on this afternoon Ben went with them to sit in the restaurant and help them decide how to turn it into a bakery.

  “It still smells like barbeque sauce,” Colette complained. “The painters have agreed to paint it next week, thank goodness.”

  “Well I think...” Emma Rose started. She was interrupted by a rap on the door. Emma Rose got up, opened the door and said, “We’re closed.”

  “I know,” Sherman White, an elderly man none of them knew very well, said. “When do you think you’ll open it again. I used to come here three times a week to get my dinner. I don’t cook so well since Florence died, you know.”

  “Three times a week?” Colette asked, joining Emma Rose at the door. “I don’t remember it being that often.”

  “Sometimes four,” Sherman answered.

  “Mr. White, we’re thinking of turning it into a bakery,” Emma Rose said.

  “A bakery? Why would I come to a bakery three times a week?” Chagrinned, the elderly man walked off.

  Emma Rose slowly closed the door. “He’s right, you know.” She walked back to the table and sat down. “The thing everyone loved most about this place was the homemade hamburger and hotdog buns, and I sure know how to make those.”

  “What are you saying?” Colette asked, as she too sat down.

  “Maybe a bakery isn’t the best idea.”

  Colette leaned back in her chair. “I swore if I never saw a hamburger again it would be too soon.”

  “So, why not do both?” Ben suggested.

  The young women stared at him for a moment before Emma Rose said to Colette. “You wanna throw him out or should I?”

  “Okay,” Ben said as he stood up and kissed Colette lightly on the lips. “I can take a hint. I have some shopping to do anyway.” He ignored their giggles as he walked out.

  “He’s right though,” Emma Rose said. ‘We could do both. We could even sell homemade hamburger and hotdog buns.”

  “What do you like to bake the most?”

  “Cakes. I love decorating them.”

  “Well, we could put a display case over in that corner,” Colette said. “You could bake a couple of cakes to display and then have a place on top where people could submit special orders for birthdays and such.”

  “And still sell hamburgers and hotdogs?”

  Colette’s smile faded. “I suppose we could, only...”

  “Look, we could hire people to do the work just like Dave did. Besides, I don’t know anything about running a business.”

  “I can teach you. I just now realized Dad tau
ght me a lot more than I thought. He left a list of suppliers, and I know how to keep the books. It’s not that hard really.”

  Emma Rose grinned. “Can we keep the name?”

  Colette looked at the unlit electric sign hanging over the counter that separated the kitchen from the seating area. “I think he’d like that.”

  “Done then. Now,” Emma Rose said as she pulled a list out of her purse. “Here’s what I think we need to get started. First...”

  COLETTE FINISHED READING the latest story about Davet, Paige, and the missing money, and then left the New York City newspaper on the kitchen counter. “I feel bad about the money Grandpa left me,” she said as she came out of the kitchen carrying two plates of her famous spaghetti. She set the first on the table in front of Oliver and the other opposite him.

  “Why do you feel bad?” Oliver asked. He took in the scrumptious smell of his meal and then began to twirl his fork in the noodles.

  She sat and then scooted her chair forward. “Well, I think I should share it with you and Steven.”

  “Oh that.” He took a bite and then slurped a long hanging noodle until he got it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he grinned. “If you share yours with us, then we’d have to share ours with you.”

  Colette was taken aback. “He set up savings accounts for you too?”

  “Yep, three million dollars divided three ways plus eighteen years’ of interest.”

  She had not yet taken a bite and both her eyebrows shot up. “You mean he didn’t put the money in the closet before Paige set the house on fire?”

  “No, Aunt Margot only said that so the press would print it and people would stop looking for it.”

  “She lied too?” Colette asked. She absentmindedly took a bite and pondered the situation. “I guess it was necessary.”

  “I think so.”

  “We really should give the money back.”

  He took another bite. “We can’t. The airline went broke and they sold it.”

  “The insurance company then?”

  “The airline only had insurance on plane crashes, not on embezzlement.” Eat, little sister, before your dinner gets cold.

  She giggled. “I love it when you call me that.”

  “And I love you.”

  “I love it when you say that too.” She took another bite, chewed and swallowed. “Grandpa was a sly old fox, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes he was. By splitting us up, Paige couldn’t get to all three of us at once.”

  “So he only had me to take care of.”

  “He needed you a lot more than you needed him.”

  Colette nodded. “I can see that now. I wonder if Aunt Margot told the detective the truth about the money on the way back to Denver?”

  “I doubt it. What fun would that be?” Oliver asked.

  “She might tell him someday, it’s not nice to keep secrets from the man you marry.”

  “You think she will marry him?”

  “Don’t you? Didn’t you see the way he looked at her?”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

  They ate in silence for a time before Oliver asked, “Are you going to marry Ben?”

  “Maybe. You looking for a girlfriend?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Bonnie at the bank is single and I like her a lot.”

  “I better check my bank account then.”

  “Yes, you better.” She twirled spaghetti on her fork at the same time he did, and at the same time they both slurped their hanging noodles until they got them in their mouths. They chewed, swallowed and then laughed.

  THIS TIME WHEN BEN had to leave, Colette went with him. He hugged his mother and father at the train station in Glenwood springs and then the two of them boarded the westbound train. In the dining car that night, he got down on one knee in front of her and pulled an engagement ring out of his pocket.

  “I have loved you most of my life, and I can’t imagine not having you by my side. Marry me, help raise my children and grow old with me.”

  She suspected it was coming, but it still took her breath away. She glanced around, noticed everyone was watching her, and then put a hand on her hip. “On one condition.”

  Ben looked a little worried, “Which is?”

  “Promise you will never, ever keep secrets from me.”

  “I swear it.”

  “Then yes, I will marry you.”

  He slipped the ring on her finger, stood up and to the applause of the dinner guests, passionately kissed her.

  After they sat down, she stared at the beautiful ring for a time and then said, “We can’t marry until after you get out of the Navy.”

  “Why do we have to wait?”

  “Because after I marry you, I want you home with me, not sailing around the world into who knows what wars. I don’t want to have babies alone, spend my nights crying, and my days in constant worry.”

  “Fair enough,” he said. “I can wait.” So, will we live at your house after we get married?” he asked after they ordered their meal. “Mom won’t care if I live with her or not, if I’m right across the street, she’ll still have chores for me to do.”

  She grinned. “That’s probably true. My house is too big for the two of us anyway. I’ve been thinking of finding something we can call our house.”

  “I like the sound of that. Send me pictures of the ones you’re considering and I’ll help you choose, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He finished his soup and then set the bowl aside. “Do you think Emma Rose loves Artie enough to marry him?”

  “I don’t think she loves him the way she loved Ronnie, but she’s gotten more sensible in the last few years. She’ll be a good wife for him.”

  “And you’ll be a good wife for me.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.”

  They were nearly half way through their lobster dinner when she said, “Sharon finally left my best friend, Larry Phillips, of Phillips, Phillips and Phillips.”

  Ben laughed, “Your best friend, is he?”

  “Sure, as long as he stays out of my way. Sharon said he filed for bankruptcy and that was the last straw.”

  “Why do you look worried?” he asked.

  “Because marriages don’t work out these days.”

  “Maybe it’s because they don’t know each other well enough before they get married. You and I won’t have that problem.”

  Colette’s eyes brightened. “No, we won’t.”

  IN SAN FRANCISCO, THEY got off the train and went to the Naval Base. Too soon, he had to report aboard ship, but before he did, he presented his bride-to-be with a bouquet of rose buds. She was thrilled.

  Overwhelmed and in tears, she lovingly kissed him goodbye.

  He wiped the tears off her cheeks and made her promised for the millionth time to write, text, call, skype, Facebook, and carrier pigeon. It made her giggle.

  She stood on the dock, watched her handsome fiancé walk up the steps of the massive ship, salute and then disappear. Still she stood there, surrounded by others with loved ones going on board and when he didn’t come to the side of the ship to wave goodbye, she turned to leave. She had a train to catch, and missing it would not do. Her future included finding a suitable house and helping Emma Rose set up the business. Hopefully that would keep her from missing Ben so much.

  She caught the afternoon train back to Colorado, and cried for a full hour before she pulled herself together and tried to enjoy the ever changing scenery she could see out the window.

  Funny how much had happened in the space of only two weeks. She lost a father, two sisters, and the mother she so desperately wanted to know, would likely spend the rest of her life in a mental institution. Even so, she gained two brothers, an aunt, a sister-in-law, and renewed her friendship with Emma Rose and Artie. More importantly, Ben Walker, the boy she had a secret crush on in high school, would someday be hers to have and to hold forever.

  She decided to still
call Davet her Dad. After all, that’s what he was. Funny too that as her hostility faded it was replaced by the memory of his smile. Davet Bouchard did smile and often. She knew that now, and that’s exactly the way she would always remember him.

  ~The end ~

  Read about the Scottish Clan MacGreagor in The Viking!

  Love and Suspicion

  (An M.T. Mystery)

  (Sample chapter)

  When Tiffany Clark’s car broke down and she was forced to walk to a nearly deserted small town in Iowa, the only person she found was an old man who had not spoken to anyone in years. She soon learned he could speak, he just didn’t, and the reason had to do with the town’s shocking and scandalous unsolved mystery.

  CHAPTER 1

  Earl Woodbury had not spoken to anyone in nearly eighteen years, and there wasn’t a soul in town who didn’t understand why.

  He lived in the mansion on the hill with a view of the town, the lake, and a vast patchwork of Iowa fields in various stages of spring planting. Even so, he was seldom home. Instead, he preferred to leave early in the morning, walk down the hill to town, and then walk back when the sun began to go down. The only exception to his self-imposed schedule was bad weather, but that was not a problem on this sunny day in mid-May. In his sixties, Earl liked to wear beat-up cowboy boots, faded blue jeans, and a yellowing cowboy hat, which made him stand out like a sore thumb in his small town. Nevertheless, everyone liked old Earl, even if they couldn’t get a smile or a nod, let alone a word out of him.

  Sometimes he took a stroll up and down Main Street, but more often than not he sat on a bench across the street from the town’s city hall, watching the people or reading the daily newspaper. Occasionally a dog came to greet him, causing Earl to display one of his rare smiles. Other than that, he wore no discernable facial expression at all. At lunch time, he waited for the usual crowd to dissipate before he got up, walked across the street and picked up his fish sandwich, complete with a generous helping of tartar sauce. He never paid for it. Instead, the restaurant sent a bill to Earl’s attorney each month, who in turn added a generous tip and sent a check.