The Deadly Jellybean Affair

by Carrie Marsh

  “Well. Maybe it will result in an uptick in business,” Mr. Pinky Ring joked, making the Funeral Director chuckle.

  “You always know how to look on the bright side.”

  Mary quietly slipped away, unnoticed by just about everyone at the wake. She signed her name in the guest book. Just before leaving, she stopped, seeing Hillary Hulka alone and looking out the large bay windows in one of the smaller parlors.

  “I’m afraid I have to leave now, Mrs. Hulka.” Mary extended her hand as she approached the woman. Hillary didn’t smile back but did take Mary’s hand, pinching the fingers in an awkward, feminine shake.

  “Thank you for coming. You said Summer was going to work for you?”

  “Yes. Just a couple hours a week. It would have been nice.”

  Hillary nodded, pulling her lips down at the corners. “Until Bruce started coming by,” Hillary spat. “Then you’d have trouble.”

  “Mrs. Hulka, do you know how Summer met such a person? I’m certainly not trying to pry and mean absolutely no disrespect to your cousin but she was very beautiful. How’d she meet Mr. McGovern?”

  “Oh, well, see, I could be wrong but I think Summer had some kind of psychic ability.”

  Mary’s eyebrows shot up. Had Summer had some kind of connection to the spirit world? Did she have the gift of sight or a sixth sense? That would explain how she found her way to the shop. That would explain why Mary felt something about her.

  “If a man had a police record, she’d hone it in. Of course, I’m probably giving her more credit than she deserves. Sorry if I sound harsh.” Not quite the gift Mary was hoping for.

  “This is a stressful time.” Mary leaned back slightly just in case Cousin Hillary started flailing her arms.

  “She just found the seediest bars in town. Like Little Dog Lounge. It didn’t take long. Bruce was just one of dozens, I’m sure.” She bit her thin bottom lip. “And she isn’t my cousin except through marriage. She’s Ray’s cousin.”

  Mary tilted her head sympathetically. Not everyone liked their in-laws. It was just how things went sometimes. Reaching out an olive branch to have it thrown back in your face by someone in your husband’s family… well, that was one sure-fire way to keep family reunions exciting.

  “Again, Mrs. Hulka. I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Hillary turned and looked back out the window. Mary turned and walked out of the parlor, across the lobby and out the door of the funeral home.

  “The Little Dog Lounge,” she muttered as she climbed into her car, locked the doors, and pulled on her seat belt. “Why does that sound so familiar to me?”

  Without wasting another minute, Mary started the engine and headed home. It wasn’t ten minutes and Grace was over with a loaf of sourdough bread, Irish butter, and sliced golden delicious apples.

  They sat down at the counter, Alabaster taking his place closest to the window. In between bites of bread and sips of coffee, Mary told Grace and Alabaster what had happened. It sounded sadder when she repeated it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SO MANY OPINIONS

  SO MANY OPINIONS

  “So, you ladies can go ahead and get started on your necklaces. Just remember that when you want to link one pin to another, you bend the wire to the side.” Carlie Boxsetter nodded her head as she spoke. “Any other way will weaken the metal and it could break while you’re wearing it. We don’t want that.” She chuckled, waving her bright red manicured nails.

  Beads and Baubles was very noisy as the first jewelry making class was underway. Mary had Andrew put a post on Craigslist for someone to teach introductory beading, and Carlie Boxsetter was one of seventeen responses she received.

  Her qualifications were excellent. She had her own online jewelry store, had written several ebooks on jewelry making and was just half an hour away. Although Mary thought her fee was a little steep, it did include some supplies and she brought Duncan Donut doughnut holes, much to Grace’s chagrin.

  Dawn was true to her word and had seven of her most devoted crafting fans with her when she arrived at exactly nine-thirty for the class. Mary recognized Linda Miff, Dawn’s next door neighbor, and Rose Hashberg, Dawn’s sister. Of course, Mimi Sinclaire, Dawn’s BFF was there. The other women were familiar but Mary had no idea what their names were. She was just happy they showed up. Mary was only able to scrape up Grace to come and had to nearly bribe her to stay when she saw the familiar orange, brown, and pink logo of the rival doughnut maker.

  It wasn’t long before the conversation at the long crafting table turned to Summer Moran.

  “Has anyone heard any more about that?” Linda asked.

  “I heard Bruce showed up at the funeral.” Dawn kept her eyes down as she manoeuvred the tiny pliers with lightning speed. “He killed her as sure as I’m sitting here.”

  Mary looked at Grace but said nothing.

  “I don’t know.” Mimi set her project down to look at everyone. “I was told that Summer had dumped Bruce for one of the Road Captains of The Outlaws.”

  “What is a Road Captain?” one of the other women asked.

  “I think it’s one of the big shots in the motorcycle club.” Mimi’s eyes were as big as saucers. “I think he carries a gun.” Her voice went to a whisper when she said the word gun.

  “I think they all carry guns, Mimi.” Grace shook her head but kept her eyes on her project.

  “Well, I heard that she had crossed one of their women.” Rose looked to her big sister. “Those biker-mamas are not the kind of ladies you want to mess with.”

  “I’ll bet that’s what happened.” Linda nodded her head. “Someone finally had enough of her hanging all over every man she set her eyes on. She crossed the wrong woman and ended up with the short end of that stick.”

  “You just don’t do that sort of thing. It’s that simple,” Mimi added. “You don’t come on to another woman’s man. Not unless you want to get a beat-down.”

  Mary listened but didn’t hear anything more than a bunch of women who disliked Summer for no other reason than because she was an extremely attractive woman.

  “If you ask me, Bruce had the biggest motive.” Dawn cleared her throat. “They had been on and off for about two years. Who knows what she knew about him. He certainly had quite a history of his own.”

  Finally, something that made sense, Mary thought.

  “Maybe it was just some random thing.” Grace decided to add her two cents. “Maybe someone saw her at a bar, followed her, and just killed her in the woods. A drifter. A member of The Outlaws. Someone we never saw before.”

  The whole table became quiet and everyone stared at Grace, including Mary. But she was the only one with a smirk on her lips. She just happened to glance at Carlie and she looked absolutely mortified, with her bright red lips pulled back from her teeth and her eyes squinting.

  “You watch too many movies, Grace.” Dawn broke the silence and started laughing, making her entire frame jiggle. Her entourage joined in quickly. Carlie also laughed nervously, as if she were afraid this group would suddenly break into a scene from Lord of the Flies.

  Once the jewelry-making session was over and the ladies had cleared, Mary spoke with Carlie, who said she’d have to check her schedule and would get back to her. Mary’s gut told her that all the talk about murder and suspects and motives probably meant Carlie wouldn’t be coming back.

  Grace was still at the table, admiring the necklace she had completed.

  “This isn’t half bad.” She grinned.

  “No. It’s very pretty.” Mary took a seat next to her. “What do you think of what they all said? Do you really think it could be some random killer who might still be out there?”

  “Oh, no. Based on what everyone was saying, I’m sure Bruce did it, too.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah. Abusers like that like to be the center of attention. They like it when people feel bad for them. I think he’s as guilty as they come.”

 
Mary scratched her head.

  “Well, how come you didn’t agree with Dawn?”

  “I won’t totally rule out The Outlaws. Bruce was tight with some of those guys. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. He partied over on that side of the tracks. Maybe not all the time but enough times for the smell of leather and whiskey to rub off on him.” Grace stood and began to help clean things up. “If he brought Summer with him, I can only imagine the kind of trouble that followed. A jealous man can be a bad man.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HAPPY HOUR

  HAPPY HOUR

  “I don’t know, Alabaster.” Mary sighed. “There are so many stories around Summer that I can’t believe someone hasn’t stood up and said enough already. They can’t all be true.”

  You know how people are. The cat looked at her with his green eyes focused and his purring mechanism running. You’ll never get the same story twice. There will always be an embellishment here and a personal touch there. Especially if the person being discussed is disliked.

  “The only way I’m going to get to the bottom of this is if I go and talk to Bruce myself.” Mary took a deep breath.

  Why would you want to do that?

  “Summer deserves to have the truth out there. If for no other reason than to give the rumors and gossip a good run for their money.” Mary went to the fridge and pulled out the milk. She poured a glass for herself and a small saucer for Alabaster and brought it into the living room where she took a seat in her corner of the couch. Ward always sat in the recliner. The leather chair remained there for Andrew when he stayed for a long visit and they watched a basketball or baseball game together.

  But Mary preferred the couch where she could tuck her feet up underneath her or stretch out completely for a nap. Right now, she didn’t know what to do with herself. The morning jewelry class was not the grand success she had hoped for. Still, she’d had quite a few sales throughout the day and again managed to make her daily quota.

  Alabaster hopped up on her lap, made a circle, and nestled himself down in between Mary and the arm of the couch.

  Where on earth do you expect to find Bruce McGovern?

  “I heard he spends a lot of time at the Little Dog Lounge. I thought I’d take a chance and go see if he was there.”

  What do you think those people are going to do when an older woman comes snooping along asking questions? In a place like that, they don’t like people asking questions.

  “What do you know about places like that?” Mary scratched Alabaster beneath the chin and stroked his gray coat, making his tail wave.

  You do let me out of the house a couple times a week. You don’t think I spend all day chasing butterflies in the yard?

  “It’s that Chesterton. I knew he was a bad influence when I saw that nick in his ear. He likes to fight and pick fights.”

  He’s worldly. And yes, together we did some exploring of Morhollow. Those kinds of places where you’re thinking of going may not be good for you on more than one level.

  “What do you mean?”

  If you thought the psychic residue over Poe’s Hill was bad, you may be in for an actual overdose of negativity in that part of town. It’s dangerous. That’s all I’m saying.

  Mary sat there for a second. As she stroked Alabaster’s soft fur, she wondered if maybe he was right. Why was she sticking her neck out for a girl she’d met face-to-face once and who had a reputation as bad as Chesterton the alley cat?

  If you’re going to go, I would suggest a spell of protection.

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?” Mary wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t broken out the old spell book since you were a kitten.”

  Consider it a refresher course. Or insurance. You’ve got it but you hope you never have to use it.

  Mary lifted the cat into her arms, where he continued to purr, only now he felt like a fuzzy wet sandbag and took him into the bedroom. Mary laid Alabaster on the bed then turned and went into the closet. Ward’s side was almost completely empty except for a small chest about the size of a mini-fridge.

  She opened it up and carefully took out a couple of books, inspecting their spines before settling on a brown pad that looked more like a sketchbook than a list of spells.

  “Okay, let’s see. This should have something.”

  What is that?

  “Emergency Spells and Incantations.” Mary smiled. “For when you are long on assistance but short on time, I guess.” She laughed.

  Her finger flew down the list of spells included in the little book.

  “Find lost keys… Receive important phone call… Acquire new job… Stop cravings… Protection from twisters.” Mary couldn’t help but chuckle. The Wizard of Oz must have been a horror story for some. “Here we go. Protection on a new journey. Does that sound right to you?”

  I think that sounds perfect. I doubt you’ll find anything that says protection from motorcycle gangs and possible homicidal ex-boyfriends.

  “Oh, goody!” Mary clapped. “I have all the ingredients. And isn’t this interesting? I’ll need the fur of a feline in order to complete the spell. I knew you were good for something.”

  Mary pushed herself up off the floor with a grunt and carried the pad into the kitchen. Spreading it out on the kitchen counter, she grabbed a handful of fresh basil from a pot on her windowsill. From the cabinet overhead, she pulled down a glass jar filled with sage. Quickly stepping outside her back sliding door, she searched for a moment and found a smooth gray rock that looked like the moon. Picking up a thin twig, she poked it into the corner of her sliding door, twirling it in a circle to collect the abandoned spider web.

  “I can smell the cold air coming,” she said to Alabaster, putting all her ingredients on the counter. Pulling down a small bowl, she added everything together in the right order, proper amounts and ground together tightly with her mortar and pestle while mumbling the three ancient words written in the book.

  “Now, for the final ingredient.” She looked at Alabaster who sat up and posed as if he were Henry the VIII. “Sorry, but I have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

  Mary pulled out a large knife from the chopping block with a paper-thin edge that could cut through a tin can and then slice a tomato perfectly. Taking a pinch of Alabaster’s hair between her thumb and forefinger with one hand and the sharp knife in the other, she quickly sliced off enough hairs for the recipe.

  Sprinkling them into the mortar, she took a long match used to light her fireplace and lit the contents in the mortar. As it poofed and crackled, she recited the words,

  “Danger on each side.

  Motive needs to hide.

  No threat in their eyes.”

  Leaning over the smoke, Mary inhaled the curling gray tendrils and closed her eyes.

  After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, looked at Alabaster, and smiled.

  “So. I won’t be gone long. I promise to get in and get out. No lollygagging.”

  Mary stroked the cat. “Boy, it’s been a long time since you and I had a good old-fashioned spell casting.”

  It has. Alabaster head-butted Mary’s hand. So, you may be a bit rusty. If you feel a crack or a chink or anything that may lead to the spell losing its power, you leave immediately, even if you are in the middle of a sentence. You’re no good to Summer if anything happens.

  “I promise.” She took a deep breath. “Truthfully, I don’t even know if I did that right.” She looked at her purse and keys that were sitting on the side table by the front door along with her cell phone. She walked over, picked up her keys, and turned to Alabaster. “If anything were to happen, and I doubt that would be the case, but just in case, you leave through your kitty door and go to Chesterton’s.”

  Alabaster looked at her for the first time that evening with wide, alert eyes.

  Without saying anything else, she grabbed her keys and stomped out the door. Alabaster let out a loud meow. She had forgotten her purse and her cell phone. Too late.

  CHAP
TER EIGHT

  TIME FOR A DRINK

  TIME FOR A DRINK

  Little Dog Lounge was located in the Morhollow neighborhood of Ravenswood, across the street from the Abe Lincoln Motel. Its neighbor to the right was a twenty-four-hour currency exchange. On the left was Shark’s Pawn Shop, which was open late. The rest of the street was loaded with payday and title loan offices. Liquor stores on every other corner. Furniture stores featuring couches and beds made cheap and sold cheap.

  The potholes didn’t stop the traffic from clogging up the streets. The red lights weren’t timed very well. That caused backups and stop and go traffic jams all day and night. Pedestrians crossed at the lights if they had to but meandered in and out of traffic if necessary.

  As Mary drove her car, she couldn’t help but feel everyone was looking at her. The truth was no one noticed her. This was a part of town where people kept their eyes down and their mouths closed if they were just going from point A to point B. Making eye contact with some people might get you a cordial nod. It might get you a blank stare. It also might get a big fellow heading in your direction to inquire what you were looking to buy, or sell, or if you had a problem.

  According to the directions she’d pulled off the Internet, she was only about three more blocks from Little Dog Lounge.

  “Should I park here and walk?” she asked. “Maybe I should. Parking could be very rough around here. Even with the protection spell, you don’t want to go ahead pushing your luck.” She looked around, driving slowly, her head swiveling from side to side in search of a parking spot. “No, Mary. We don’t want to push our luck. That’s why we’re driving through this horrible part of town. Because we don’t want to push our luck.” She let out a deep breath.