Before long, it grew dark out and my stomach screamed for food. I locked my office and checked whether Hope had wandered to hers while I'd been reviewing the upcoming week's reading materials. She hadn't, but I realized she still hadn't forwarded me any of her research on the Grey family. I sent another email reminder, then confirmed my parents would drop off the kids in an hour. I stopped by the Fall Festival, but the line to see Madam Zenya was a mile long. I'd try again the next day or ask Eleanor to intervene on my behalf. I drove to the Pick-Me-Up Diner to visit my sister and order some food to go. Unfortunately, she was running errands with Manny.
Calliope, who'd changed the color of her hair to a blueberry shade—at least the half on the left side that hadn't been shaved off, noted she'd just finished the dinner rush. “This is the only time I get a bit of quiet. I hope you're not planning to keep me long. I've had a slew of nincompoops who had to be taught several lessons. Don't go ordering soup from me and then complain it's too hot. I'll pour bleach in it as a special treat for—”
I couldn't listen to the story anymore. “How's your dad? I'm glad he wasn't hurt last night.” I assumed Calliope had heard Lloyd's horse-drawn coach was drenched with kerosene but wasn't certain.
“My pop is one lucky man. I still can't believe he confessed to a crime he didn't commit.” Calliope waved to a customer, indicating she'd be with her in a minute. “No clue who's out to get him.”
“What do you know about his apprentice? I met him once but don't remember a lot.” I had assigned that part of the haunted hayride planning phase to my mother to coordinate.
“His name is Chip, the son of my pop's buddy. Good guy. I dated him once, but he's a little too boring for me.” Calliope shook her head and pulled up his picture on Facebook. “See… he does nothing but post about birds. He's one of them nerdy birdwatchers who can't carry a real conversation without making chirping noises. I tried to get him to go camping or fishing, but he—”
I stopped her there, as we were getting way off topic. “Could he have been involved?”
“That'd be a hard no. Dude is afraid of fire. Got burned as a kid. That's why he won't go camping. I tried telling you, but you interrupted, Kellan. Don't be rude like your brother.” Calliope stood and warned the same customer to stop complaining. “I'll be with you in a sec, hon. Hold your horses.”
“I feel like your father is keeping secrets. Could he be covering for someone?”
“Might be,” she hypothesized noncommittally. “You should ask Aunt Belinda. Those two are as thick as thieves. He might've confided the truth in her. I gotta go.” Calliope grabbed her pad and strolled to the nearby table with the customer who'd been calling her over. “Did you forget I have a temper, Eustacia Paddington? Why you gotta shout at me across the diner? My dogs are barking, girl.”
“I need some hot tea, darling. My fingers hurt from all this knitting. My niece's baby is due soon, and…” Eustacia paused, noticing me hovering in the entrance, and guffawed loudly. “Kellan, are you on top of this skeleton in the library mystery? Someone's got to solve that dreadful, ghastly whodunit. Ain't no one more qualified than you.” Her patrician, aged-spotted face popped up above the counter, resembling an overripe and wrinkled lemon. “Tea, please.”
“Yes, ma'am. On top of it,” I acquiesced with a salute, laughing at her neon orange tracksuit.
“Lord Almighty, I'll be there in a jiffy, princess.” Calliope didn't care who she sassed, even if Eustacia was not the kind of person who'd stand by idly and accept getting reamed out.
I wanted to remain for the fireworks show but needed to return home. My phone pinged, showing Belinda had rescheduled our meeting to the middle of the week because of a mini-crisis with the school board. How much did she know about her brother's secrecy? While turning onto the main road, I noticed the headlights of another car trailing behind me. Confident someone had been following me toward Danby Landing, I pulled off into a narrow, hidden lane a few blocks from the cottage. I watched the car continue down the road, then slow and turn around. It was shadowing me, but I couldn't make out the license plate in the dark. All I noticed as it drove by was the make and model. Now, I needed to figure out who owned a classic 1980s Cadillac, as those weren't common cars anymore. Madam Zenya? Prudence Grey? Lloyd's apprentice? My fears about a real-life stalker were growing more intense by the minute, and the answers were getting murkier rather than clearer. Someone was after me, but I was determined to find them first.
Chapter 10
After chauffeuring the kids to school the next morning, I ambled across Cambridge Lawn, reflecting on what the O'Malley family must be going through on a day like today. To lose a loved one was devastating, but to relive that pain without understanding why he'd been murdered would be far worse. Death represented finality to some, a beginning to others. Minnie was a religious woman who'd found some level of comfort in knowing her beloved husband had been with God the whole time. While she'd always believed he'd died fifty years ago in the Vietnam War, locating his body must've been a relief despite the circumstances.
I met Nana D in the parking lot, where I also noticed a Cadillac parked in the first row. It looked about the same shape and size as the one from the prior night, but I couldn't be certain. We headed into St. Mary's and found a nervous Minnie with a shawl draped around her tired and fragile body. “Did you see that lovely Cadillac parked outside? It's not yours, is it?” I would ask everyone about it now.
Minnie shook her head. “No, Elijah picked me up today. I hope you'll forgive my confusion yesterday. When I learned they'd found Ian, I lost all sense of time.”
“Nonsense. When Michael passed away, I could hardly remember my name,” Nana D comforted. It'd been heartbreaking to watch her grieve when my grandpop unexpectedly died.
Unable to clarify the car, I put the stalker's games out of my mind. The ceremony was short, honoring the memory of a man who'd passed away too young. Father Elijah led Mass and spoke highly of his brother. Minnie chose not to say anything, but Jane told a story about her grandpa she'd heard several times as a child. While she'd never met the man, it was important that she share something positive with friends and family to overcome the loss.
I scanned the church to note who else offered condolences to the O'Malleys. It must've been awkward for Lloyd for a few reasons. Not only had he confessed to murdering Prudence Grey despite the skeleton belonging to someone else, but he supported his twenty-year companion, who'd finally learned what'd happened to her husband. He patiently anchored her side, lovingly glancing at her and rubbing her back, but also maintaining a respectful distance.
Belinda and her son Damien talked on the opposite side of the center aisle. She'd attended for Minnie, given Belinda was Lloyd's sister. Perhaps I could corner her at one point. I wasn't sure why Damien had shown up unless it was to accompany his mother. A few rows behind them sat Finnigan Masters, an attorney whom I'd known during high school and recently worked with when one of Nana D's friends had passed away. Finnigan knew everyone in town from his law practice. He and Belinda chatted for a few minutes, then Finnigan exited out the far end of the pew and walked toward the vestibule. Belinda disappeared, leaving me agitated we didn't get to talk. It wasn't the appropriate place, anyway. With Nana D focused on attending to Minnie, I followed Finnigan to inquire about his family.
Before I reached the back of the church, Hiram Grey pushed open the heavy wooden doors and greeted Finnigan in the vestibule. Hiram shook his clenched hand several times, and his upper lip snarled like an angry dog warning a trespasser. Finnigan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder. I had about thirty more feet to reach them when Father Elijah interrupted me from my goal.
“I appreciate you attending today, Kellan. You didn't even know my brother.” Father Elijah extended his cool but sweaty hand and awkwardly smiled. Something seemed to distract him.
“It was a touching service, and I wanted to comfort you and Minnie. How's she doing today?”
�
��As well as you'd expect. Fifty years of wondering has caused irreparable damage to her confidence. To finally learn the truth, well… I know exactly how she feels, I suppose.” Father Elijah gestured toward the vestibule where we could talk without whispering. “Yesterday's peculiar behavior was the initial shock of the news. I don't believe Ian ever contacted Minnie. It was a comforting memory she created to avoid accepting the truth, that Ian was suffering from PTSD and couldn't help himself.”
“Couldn't there be a chance she saw him that day? Maybe that's what's prompting her to act strangely now.” I wasn't well-versed in the psychological impacts of stress and repressed memories, but the dots weren't connecting for me over the discrepancies between everyone's stories.
“What are you implying?” Father Elijah's face simmered with alarm over my line of questions.
“I'm curious about the day of the fire. Minnie's husband returned home but didn't immediately visit her, then he's killed before they reconnected.” I didn't want to believe Minnie had anything to do with his death, yet her reactions and behavior of late were suspicious.
“I understand that Sheriff Montague believes Ian was murdered, but they can't be one-hundred percent certain. He could've been hit by a falling piece of debris during the fire and died of smoke inhalation. There was nothing left but his bones, and after fifty years, only so much can truly be known.”
Father Elijah was partially correct. April wasn't irrefutably positive Ian had been murdered, yet nothing added up about his death, Prudence's disappearance, and Lloyd's unusual confession. “Were you able to confirm how long Ian had been back in Braxton?”
“Less than twelve hours. His flight had arrived home early that morning, and he must've found a ride to Braxton from the military base, but we know nothing after his plane landed. The government provided a record showing his official discharge and confirmed return.” Father Elijah explained that he'd learned all this fifty years ago and shared it with Minnie many times.
“I appreciate you relaying the details to me. At first, Minnie wanted me to help prove Lloyd didn't kill Prudence, but then when the skeleton turned up to be Ian, things got a little complicated.”
“I'm not sure we'll ever understand how Prue got out of the library, or if she and Ian crossed paths. I know she didn't hurt Ian. Prue and I were friends years ago, and I'm sure she either died in the fire or left Wharton County to escape from Hiram. Even so, it's been fifty years. We might never know.”
“So, you think this is simply a case of no one ever locating her body?”
“I'm not sure. All I know is that Prue had legitimate reasons to leave Hiram, and she wanted to protect Damien. I can't imagine she would've left without him, but Prue was suffering from depression those last few weeks before she disappeared.” Father Elijah dabbed a sweaty brow, noting he needed to check on Minnie and verify the limousine had arrived to escort them to the cemetery.
After he left, my conscience assured me he held something back. I couldn't confront him at a funeral and would have to schedule another visit in the coming days. While we separated, the other lingering folks in the church passed through the vestibule and crossed the front steps. It appeared as if Hiram and Finnigan's conversation was ending. I approached, but they were too focused on one another to notice me. I stood a few feet away behind a fountain of holy water, waiting for them to finish. Their voices echoed in the surrounding room, enabling me to overhear part of the discussion.
“Hiram, it's completed. I made the changes you requested for your revised will. You signed it in my office the other day. I'll mail the copies this week. Hunting me down at a funeral is uncouth, even for you,” Finnigan insisted, his voice ripe with frustration and adamant clarification.
“Thank you, Masters. I understand I'm being difficult. The last five days have been enlightening. Just to confirm one final time… after everyone receives their normal share of my inheritance, the remaining balance of the Grey family wealth will go to my first-born. That is correct, right?”
“Yes, Hiram. We will ensure any of your children or grandchildren who have yet to turn forty will receive the standard two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar inheritance. The remaining balance, in the neighborhood of nine million dollars plus all the real estate you own, will be issued to your first-born, biological child. I've accounted for everything you shared last week. Please do not worry any further.” Finnigan's voice grew strained, and he seemed intent on parting as soon as possible.
Nana D walked up and slapped me on the shoulder. “What are you doing, brilliant one?”
“Shh. I'm listening to Hiram and Finnigan's discussion. You'll never believe what Hiram said,” I began, as a commotion stirred.
“You're a good man, Masters. I'm glad I ran into you today, but I must catch up to Belinda and Damien.” Hiram pushed through the front doors and summoned his ex-wife and son.
Finnigan left the church and walked through the parking lot to his restored Camaro. Nana D encouraged me to follow Hiram. When we reached the front courtyard, Hiram and Belinda were already shouting at one another. “You're being way too hard on him. This isn't the appropriate place to confront your son, Hiram.” Belinda's finger shook repeatedly just inches away from her ex-husband's face.
“I've given him enough money in the past. He received the same amount as every other member of the Grey family. If Damien wants to establish his new business, he can get a loan like the rest of this county. I'm not a bank. Especially after what he did. As for you,” Hiram continued, sidling closer to Belinda. “Stop trying to cozy your way back into my life too. We've been divorced for decades, and I am not interested in returning to a past wife. I am dating someone new, so leave me alone and keep those sentimental cards and token presents for another fool you plan to sink your claws into, woman.”
Damien grabbed his father's shoulder. “Don't speak to my mother like that. She's just trying to protect me, and this isn't the place to air our dirty laundry. Forget what I did. It was stupid.”
Lloyd left Minnie's side and rushed to Hiram. “I'll only ask you once to take your hands off my sister. Belinda has been nothing but a caring and loving mother to your son, and you've been a horrible man over the years. I don't care if you are the county judge, I'll knock some sense into you, old-timer.”
“Like you did my first wife? I'll never understand why the sheriff didn't permanently lock your sorry butt in jail. Whether it was Ian or Prudence, you killed someone fifty years ago, Nickels. I'll see you rot in prison for this.” Hiram trudged away from everyone and marched down the rest of the stairs.
“Dad, that's the last straw. You've always been a tyrant, but I've had enough. If you won't lend me the money, I'll find another way to get hold of it. We're done pretending to be a family. The next time I see you will be at your funeral.” Damien plodded toward Hiram, but Belinda seized his hand.
“Don't, Damien. He's your father. You don't mean that.” Belinda pulled her son closer, pushing stray hairs from his sullen eyes and hugging him.
“You're all a bunch of crazy lunatics. One of you killed Prudence. Maybe the same person killed Ian. Perhaps it was a joint effort between the reverent Father Elijah and his supposedly innocent sister-in-law Minnie. Something funny is going on between them. I'll ensure you're all punished for what you've done,” Hiram shouted at the crowd. “I'm the only level-headed one among you people. I may have been divorced several times but compared to some of you who should know better, God forgives me and my actions.” He blatantly scowled at Father Elijah, then glanced ominously at Minnie, who'd broken down into tears, with reprove in his eyes.
As everyone hollered, an unfamiliar voice addressed the crowd. “Isn't this a funeral? Why aren't you behaving like rational mourners intent on letting a man's spirit pass through this world?”
I turned in the voice's direction, whispering to Nana D, “What's she doing here?”
Madam Zenya promenaded across the courtyard in a flowing gold and black gown, the ribbon tails of h
er dress trailing like comets across a great big blue sky. Covered from head to toe in shiny satin, her triumphant entrance exceeded all expectations of grandeur. A robust headdress gallantly rested on broad shoulders, ensuring we saw nothing of her actual face or body—just the extravagant costume. The woman was as much of a spectacle as they'd warned me about, igniting my curiosity beyond belief.
“I apologize for interrupting the most solemn of ceremonies,” she announced in a hearty and guttural greeting, waving one hand high above her shoulder swinging it through the air. When finished, it landed directly in front of her and pointed at Belinda. “I have another message for you, my dear.”
Damien blocked his mother as though he were protecting her from a firing squad. “Whatever you have to say to my mother, you will say to me too.” He stood rigid, ready to defend Belinda from whatever attack or reproach seemed imminent. He'd remarkably outgrown his quiet, nervous nature.
Belinda whispered something in her son's ear and turned to Madam Zenya. “From whom?”
Nana D stifled a giggle. I wasn't sure how to react. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought this was a scene from a conspicuously awful B movie.
“It is for you and you alone, my dear.” Madam Zenya carefully sauntered to the side of the courtyard, curled a finger, and motioned for Belinda to follow her.
Hiram's eyes shadowed the women as they came within three feet of one another. “What is going on, Madam Zenya? I thought we were meeting at the Fall Festival later.”
Did they know each other? I turned to Nana D. “Any clue what this nonsense is all about?”
She shrugged. “Not the foggiest, but Minnie's eyes are swollen. I'm getting her out of here.”
While Nana D pushed Father Elijah, Minnie, and Jane toward the limousine, Damien angrily stood nearby watching his mother and Madam Zenya speak. Lloyd, who hadn't been invited to accompany Minnie, took off separately for the parking lot and boarded an old pickup truck.
Haunted House Ghost: Death At The Fall Festival (Braxton Campus Mysteries Book 5) Page 15