She looked at her phone and saw that Fiona had texted her back. Found quite a bit I could let go of. I’ll take it to the shop with me. You can swing by whenever to pick it up.
Brigid smiled. She knew she could count on her sister. She sent a quick text in reply.
I’ll be over in a little while. Have you eaten lunch yet?
Brigid sat down on her bed and waited while she watched the bubble on her cell phone appear, telling her that Fiona was replying to her text.
Not yet. If you bring me something good, I’ll pay you back.
Brigid shook her head and laughed. Shoving her phone in her purse, she slung it over her shoulder before carrying the trash bags to the front door. Jett jumped up anxiously, ready to go with her.
“Not this time, Jett. You stay home and guard the house,” she said as she opened the door. Jett stopped and looked at her with big sad puppy dog eyes before returning to the bone he’d been gnawing on. Brigid walked out the door, amused by how well a dog could communicate with a human without using any words.
After a quick stop at the local pizza place, Brigid drove through town toward her sister’s bookstore, Read It Again. The smell of the piping hot pizza filled her car and made her stomach growl again, demanding to be fed. By the time she walked through the door of the bookstore with it, she was more than ready to eat.
“Good, you brought a pizza. Smells wonderful,” Fiona said as she hopped off her stool behind the counter. Looking like she’d stepped out of some fashion magazine, she disappeared in the back of the store, returning with two paper plates. “Let’s sit over there.” She motioned to a pair of chairs in the corner. There was a low, round wooden coffee table in front of the chairs that was covered by magazines. Fiona pushed them out of the way, so they’d have room for the pizza.
Fiona loved food, but she loved her size two figure more. She allowed herself one-half of one piece of pizza. When they were finished eating and the leftovers had been stored in the small refrigerator in the back room, Fiona’s curiosity got the better of her.
“Brigid, you never told me who these clothes are going to.”
“They’re mainly for the daughter of a woman I met while I was helping Missy at the church a couple of nights ago. She’s trying to stay sober but having a teenage daughter in need of a new wardrobe isn’t helping.” Brigid said.
“I can understand that,” Fiona nodded. “So, who’s getting sober? Anyone I know?”
“Probably. She’s lived in Cottonwood Spring her whole life. Her name’s Maggie Lewis,” Brigid said.
“Nice, Sis. You could have done a lot better,” Fiona said.
“She mentioned she’d done some bad things. That bad, huh?” Brigid said, wincing.
“Uh, yeah. I’ll bet you don’t know the half of it, and with a mother like her, the kid doesn’t have a chance,” Fiona said looking at her sister. “Watch yourself with that woman. Don’t invite her to your house is all I’m saying.” She held her hands up in surrender to add emphasis to her words.
Brigid nodded. “I hear you. Like I said, I’m trying to help the daughter more than anything. Apparently, she’s really smart and has a lot of potential. She’s been getting picked on by some girls at school because she wears used clothes that came from the church. You know how eighth grade girls are. It’s only going to get worse next year in high school.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” said Fiona rolling her eyes. “Well, I’m glad to hear the girl isn’t like her mother, because I’ve heard some stories you wouldn’t believe.” Fiona reached into her purse and took out a cigarette. “I know, I know, my pure older sister doesn’t like me to smoke, but it’s my shop and I love one after I’ve eaten.”
“Okay, just don’t blow smoke in my direction. Back to Maggie Lewis. What kind of stories have you heard about her?” Brigid asked as she pulled her feet up into the chair, tucking her legs beneath her, and waving her hand in front of her face, making sure that none of Fiona’s cigarette smoke got close to her.
“I don’t know how true all of them are. I just overhear things when locals come in here, you know? But I heard she worked for Paul Sterling before he went downhill. He had that disability thing where they pay people to come to your house and help out, like a caretaker.
“He ended up hiring her, and from what I understand, it was great at first. But after a while, it seems some household things began to come up missing. At first Paul explained to his son, Frank, that he was just getting rid of old junk that was gathering dust. But after more time passed Frank noticed things missing that his father never would have gotten rid of. Paul explained it away by saying they were probably up in the attic being stored, but they were gone.”
“Maggie was telling him she was putting things in the attic and stealing them instead?” Brigid asked incredulously.
“I guess so,” Fiona shrugged. “About that time Frank found out she’d been getting Paul to write checks to her under the pretense she’d pay the money back directly into his account. Only she never did.”
“Oh, man.” Brigid was having a hard time imagining the kind woman she’d given a ride home to swindling an old man out of his money. Yet, she knew drugs could make even the best person turn into a monster. It broke her heart to think of poor Paul Sterling getting robbed right under his nose and in his own home by his caretaker.
“Yep. That’s why Frank had to move his dad in with them. There wasn’t much money left. I don’t know the details. All I know is Frank had to sell his father's house and move him into his home.”
“Is that all you’ve heard about her?” Brigid hated to ask, but she felt she needed to know what this woman was capable of, just in case she had more dealings with her. She wondered if Missy knew about any of this.
“Well, I’ve also heard something that seems possible, but I don’t know for sure. I heard someone say she was seeing Mark Thompson a while back.” Fiona raised her eyebrows, waiting for Brigid’s reaction.
“You’re kidding? Mark? Wasn’t he married to MaryAnn?” Brigid gasped.
“Yep, still is. He was seen leaving a bar with Maggie a few times late at night. I don’t know much more than that.” Fiona waved her hand in the air. “Could be something to it, could be all talk. I don’t have a clue.”
“Wow, this is a lot to take in, Fiona.” Brigid still couldn’t quite wrap her head around what she was hearing.
“That’s why I’m warning you. It’s not that I don’t think you can’t take care of yourself. You’ve certainly proved that by now. I just want you to be very aware of what you’re getting yourself into, so you don’t let your guard down. You’re a good person, maybe too trusting, and it seems Maggie has a habit of messing with good people.”
The door chime rang, letting them know someone had come into the store. “You can get the bags with the clothes in them out of the back of my car. I hope her daughter can get some use out of them.” She smiled and patted her sister on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Fiona.” Brigid waved to her as she left the store. If the things Fiona had told her were true, she understood why Maggie had been beating herself up over her past. Maybe if she truly felt remorseful for everything she’d done it would help her stay on the right path. She wanted to help Holly out, but she didn’t want to enable Maggie to go back to her old ways.
Sobriety was such a finicky thing. Brigid hoped by donating the clothes to them that Maggie would take it for what Brigid meant it to be, help, not a handout. The last thing Brigid wanted to do was make things worse. She left the bookstore and drove across town to the trailer park where Maggie and Holly lived.
She climbed up the rickety wooden steps of their trailer and knocked on the door, listening for sounds of movement inside. Brigid didn’t hear anything, so after a few moments, she knocked again. No one came to the door.
She walked back to her car, wrote a quick note, and deposited the bags in front of the door of the trailer. She put the note on top and picked up a rock from the gravel driveway
to hold it down. In the note, she asked them to go through the clothes and pass on anything they didn’t want. She said if they needed anything to call her. She left, hoping the clothes would help Holly.
CHAPTER 10
MaryAnn Thompson ran her fingers through her brunette hair and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt she still looked fairly good for her age. She’d recently had blonde highlights put in to help disguise some of the grey strands that were starting to show up. She pulled it back in a hair tie and sighed. She turned sideways, looking at her profile in the mirror. She was wearing her favorite leggings and a plain grey fitted tee. It was a little cool out this evening, but once she started jogging she knew her body would warm up.
She left the bathroom and stepped into her bedroom. Sitting down on her bed she put on her shoes and laced them, thinking about her day. It all started when she’d been at the grocery store that morning. MaryAnn had run into Beth who she knew from church. They’d been chatting away when Beth had the nerve to ask something MaryAnn thought she had no business to mention.
“MaryAnn, I hate to ask this, but are you and Mark alright?”
At first, MaryAnn had looked at her blankly. Why wouldn’t we be okay? she’d thought. How terrible it had been to be yanked from that blissful state of forgetting back to the memory of her husband’s infidelity. She’d flinched once she remembered, but she tried to brush it off.
“Of course, we are. Why wouldn’t we be?” she’d said in a defensive tone of voice.
“Oh, no reason. I just thought I’d heard otherwise.” Beth had started fidgeting.
“Please tell me what you’ve heard.”
Realizing she’d brought this on herself and she should have kept quiet about it, Beth didn’t have much choice but to answer MaryAnn. “I heard Mark had been unfaithful with that drunk Maggie Lewis. Someone told me they saw him leaving a bar with her a few times.”
Rage had coursed through MaryAnn, burning a path down her spine. She felt sick, but she couldn’t let Beth see that what she’d said had so adversely affected her. Instead she’d simply said, “They must have been mistaken.”
A moment later, MaryAnn had left, telling Beth she needed to go to the church to meet with Missy. It was true, she did need to meet with Missy about the church fundraiser next month, but mainly she just wanted to get away from Beth. She’d felt like falling apart right there in the grocery store, but she’d blinked back the tears until she was in the safety of her SUV.
She couldn’t help it. The tears came, and she’d cried for what felt like the ten millionth time over everything that had happened. She cried for the blow to her marriage, her self-esteem, and the misplaced faith she’d had in her husband. Sometimes she felt as if everyone in Cottonwood Springs knew what had happened, and they were all whispering about it behind her back.
MaryAnn didn’t dare admit the truth to anyone. That would mean admitting defeat. She’d been the most popular girl in high school. She’d even been the prom queen. Admitting to anyone that someone like Maggie Lewis could tempt her husband away from her was not possible. Instead, she’d done her best to sweep it all under the rug as if it had never happened.
Thankfully, their son was off at college, and he wouldn’t have to hear the rumors or see that his mom and dad didn’t sleep in the same room anymore. Even though she and Mark were getting to an age where most people didn’t have any more children, they’d decided a few years ago when their son reached the teen years that they wanted another child. After Mark had finally admitted what he’d done, MaryAnn couldn’t stand to be near him. He disgusted her. There was no way she’d allow him to touch her after he’d been with Maggie.
When she got to the church, her day went even further downhill. Just as she entered the front of the church, she’d seen Maggie and Missy coming out the door at the far corner. They were talking and laughing, so they didn’t notice MaryAnn hurry into the ladies’ room near the front door. Watching her friend laugh and enjoy spending time with Maggie hurt her deeply. It was almost as if Maggie was trying to take everyone she loved away from her.
Walking out of her bedroom, MaryAnn headed for the front door. Her phone was already in her armband and her playlist queued up.
“Where are you off to?” Mark asked as she made a beeline to the door. She shoved her earbuds in, pretending she hadn’t heard him. Once outside, she began her slow jog around town. It would have been better if I’d been the one murdered and not poor Lucy, she thought. I wouldn’t have to see Maggie and wonder what the next thing would be that she was going to take from me.
The more she thought about it, the more MaryAnn realized she wanted Maggie to die. She had such a burning hatred for the woman, she was almost certain she could do it herself if the opportunity ever presented itself.
*****
Mark watched the door shut behind his wife. She’d always been a pain, but ever since his affair with Maggie, she was even worse. What he couldn’t get her to see was that it was this exact attitude of hers that had led him to Maggie in the first place.
He remembered the first night he and Maggie had talked. They’d known each other in school, but he was the rich popular kid, while she was poor with few friends. It would be hard to find two people in more different social circles.
Mark had never realized how kind and funny Maggie could be. After being with MaryAnn for so long, he’d started to feel that all women were domineering and rude. That first night with Maggie was like a cool glass of water after he’d been barely surviving the scorching desert of his marriage to MaryAnn. Maggie was sweet, attentive, caring, and had actually listened to him when he talked. When they’d run into each other a few days later, she’d remembered what he’d said, and that was when he’d started falling for her.
The fall had been fast and hard. When he finally admitted it to her after they’d made love in the back seat of his car, she said she couldn’t see him again. She told him she’d found someone she could be with, and she wouldn’t have to keep it a secret. Mark had told her he was willing to leave MaryAnn, but that only seemed to push Maggie farther away. He had no clue what he’d done to make her leave, but she had.
He went back to the bar where they’d met as often as he could, hoping to see her again. He’d even sent her flowers at work, but he’d been told she never even took them home. It didn’t help that he still had to keep up the pretense of his marriage to MaryAnn. He knew he was one of those men who couldn’t be alone, but now everything was so much worse. For the first time he’d experienced what it was like to have a really good relationship with someone you cared about, only to have it ripped from him.
He’d never known he had the ability to love someone so much yet hate them so intensely. He loathed Maggie for making him even more miserable than MaryAnn did, because remembering how he’d felt when he was with her, that amazing chemistry and connection, and then only to have it jerked away… that was cruel. It made him so angry he didn’t know if he would hug Maggie or strangle her if she was standing right in front of him.
Mark decided he’d head to the bar one more time to see if she was there. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it was driving him nuts. If Maggie would just talk to him, he knew he could bring her to her senses. He could easily take care of her financially. Since inheriting his family’s business, he was one of the richest men in town.
Maggie wouldn’t have to worry about anything if she was with him. All he wanted was to get her everything she wanted, let her get her hair done, and buy nicer clothes. She shouldn’t have to work in a factory. He knew she had a shady past, but he was confident they could overcome that.
He took his jacket off the coat rack, slipped it on, and walked outside. Wait a minute, she lives over in the trailer park, he thought. Maybe she’ll be out walking to the bar, and I can see her. If nothing else, I can give her a ride, and we’ll have a chance to be alone and talk. He decided that was probably the best way to approach her. He knew rumors had started running around town,
and MaryAnn had made sure he knew about them, so he had to keep the risk of being seen to a minimum.
She has to talk to me, he thought as he climbed into his car. She has to listen. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the same way I do. Not after some of the things she said. He put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway, while he continued to think about what he could do to get Maggie back.
She was going to have to give in to him, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. He realized that part of her hesitation was because his marriage would break up and cause problems, but as long as he could be with her, it didn’t really matter. He no longer cared who saw them together. He didn’t want her to be with anyone but him.
CHAPTER 11
Brigid was sound asleep when her phone began to ring. At first it had entered her dream, where she struggled to find the source of the ringing. She finally jerked herself awake, realizing that her phone really was ringing and wasn’t a part of the dream. She threw back the bed covers and reached for it.
“Hello?” Her voice cracked as she struggled to collect her thoughts. She looked over at the clock and saw it was 5:27 in the morning. She couldn’t figure out why anyone would be calling her at this early hour unless there was some sort of an emergency.
“Hey, Brigid? It’s Sheriff Davis. Sorry if I woke ya’, but I could really use yer’ help. Ya’ know a Maggie and Holly Lewis, don’tcha?”
“I’ve met them. What’s wrong?” Brigid asked as she rubbed her hand across her face, trying to collect herself.
“It’d be better if I told ya’ in person. Can ya’ come down to Father Jordan’s church? I know it’s early but…” he let his sentence trail off as he started speaking to someone.
“Of course, just give me a few minutes to get dressed.” Brigid ended the call and changed into the jeans she’d worn the previous day and the first shirt she saw in her closet. She didn’t know what was going on, but she was certain that Sheriff Davis wouldn’t call her this early in the morning unless it was something important.
Murder at the Church: Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series Page 7