Murder at the Church: Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series

by Dianne Harman

  “So, she told you he was fairly aggressive with her. That’s not a good sign,” Brigid said, writing in her notebook.

  “No, it isn’t, but you also need to know about MaryAnn.”

  “Why her?” Brigid asked.

  “Once the rumors started about Mark and Maggie, MaryAnn was pretty embarrassed. The town gossip didn’t like having things turned around on her. One day I overheard her talking to one of her friends. She swore she was so angry she could kill Maggie for sleeping with her husband and ruining her reputation,” Missy said as she sadly shook her head.

  “Do you think she meant it?”

  “From the way she sounded when she said it, yes. I sure wouldn’t want anyone to talk about me that way. She sounded truly evil.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Before heading home, Brigid decided to stop and update Sheriff Davis on what she’d found out. If time was of the essence, she didn’t want to wait and give the killer a better chance to avoid being captured. She pulled into a parking space in front of the sheriff’s office, picked up her purse, and went inside.

  “Hi, Brigid. Come on back,” Sheriff Davis said as he waved, motioning for her to come into his office. He held the door open for her, and then gently clicked it shut before sitting down at his desk. “Found out anythin’?” He took a yellow notepad out from under a stack of papers, ready to take notes.

  “I think so. I definitely have a list of people to start with.” Brigid took her notebook out of her purse and said, “First we have the boyfriend, Billy Watkins.”

  “I know him,” the sheriff said. “He’s a shady character. Word is he’s replaced Mike Loomis as the local go-to drug dealer.”

  “Evidently Maggie dumped him when he wouldn’t get clean with her. According to a couple of people I talked to, he still wanted to have a serious relationship with her, and he’s been borderline stalking her since she broke up with him,” Brigid said.

  “That confirms what we found on her phone. Lots of unopened texts from him and unanswered calls. He’s got a few offenses under his belt. Already have my deputies tryin’ to locate him.” He nodded. “Who else ya’ got?”

  “Next is a friend of Maggie’s by the name of Samantha Rogers. Holly told me that she thinks the woman was jealous of the relationship between Maggie and Billy and wanted Billy for herself.”

  Davis nodded. “Ain’t much, but sometimes people kill for less. Keep goin’.” He picked up a small red ball and began to toss it in the air as he listened.

  “The next one is Frank Sterling,” Brigid continued. “I understand he’s been pretty vocal about his hatred for Maggie ever since she swindled his father out of most of his money.”

  “I heard about that. Definitely need to find out where he was when the murder was committed.” He continued to toss the ball.

  “The last two people on my list are MaryAnn and Mark Thompson.”

  The sheriff stopped tossing the ball when she said their names, looked closely at her, and said in surprise, “Both of ‘em?”

  Brigid nodded. “It seems that Maggie had an affair with Mark before she started seeing Billy. Mark was very involved with her, and she became afraid of him after she ended it. He even got a little physical with her outside the bar they were at when she ended things.”

  Davis leaned over his notepad and made some notes. “I hadn’t heard that part. Good job, Brigid, but why MaryAnn? Because of the affair?”

  “Yes. I talked to someone who overheard her saying she could kill Maggie for what she’d done, disgracing her like that.” Brigid shrugged. “Like you said, people have killed for less.”

  Davis let out a low whistle. “Nice job, Brigid. This gives us somewhere to start. I’m buried in paperwork, but if ya’ could check on Frank and the Thompsons, that’d be great. Need to know where everyone was around midnight on Friday. That’s the time the preliminary coroner’s report lists as the time of murder. Frank’ll probably be at work durin’ the day, but ya’ should be able to talk to his wife. The Thompsons...” He paused to think.

  “They still own that furniture store, right?” Brigid supplied.

  “Yeah. Haven’t heard of ‘em hirin’ on any help, so he should be there. My deputies ain’t had no luck catchin’ up with Billy so far. Thought maybe you and I could go over there in plain clothes and see if he’d answer the door. He wouldn’t be the first guy that don’t open doors when there’s a uniform on the other side.”

  Brigid nodded. “Sure, I can do that. Just give me a call tomorrow when you’re ready to go pay him a visit.”

  “Great,” Sheriff Davis stood up from his desk, indicating their meeting was over. “Thanks, Brigid. It’s jes’ like I thought. Ya’ know how to talk to people and get information.”

  “I’m happy to help, Corey.” Brigid stood up and walked towards the door. She paused for a moment, her hand on the knob. “I know Maggie did some terrible things, but I still feel as though deep down inside she was a good person.”

  “Sometimes good people do bad things, Brigid. If this job has taught me anythin’, it’s that you jes’ never really know what a person’s capable of doin’.” He sighed. “Take care, now.”

  *****

  “Thanks for driving us, Linc,” Brigid said. Linc, Holly and Brigid were on their way to Holly’s trailer, so she could get what she wanted from the trailer.

  “Yes, thank you,” Holly said from her place in the backseat of Linc’s extended cab truck. “I really appreciate it.”

  Linc smiled at Holly through the rearview mirror. “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to help.”

  As they pulled up outside the old trailer, Holly was overcome with a strange eerie feeling. It was as though two parts of her mind were at odds with each other. Part of her knew and understood that her mother was gone and was not coming back. Yet the other part almost convinced her that Maggie would open the door at any moment and tell her to hurry up and get inside, because dinner was almost ready.

  Holly had just started getting used to this new mom, the mother who would ask where she was going and when she’d be back. It was nice to have a warm meal made by someone else instead of having to fend for herself. And her mom could cook. That was one of the things she did extremely well, when she did it.

  “Brigid, Linc,” Holly said as Linc turned off the truck’s engine. “If you don’t mind, I’d kind of like a few minutes by myself in there.” She didn’t know why, but she felt as though she needed to be alone in the trailer.

  “Sure,” Brigid said. “We’ll sit here until you let us know you’re ready for us to come in.”

  “Take your time, Holly. We’re not going anywhere,” Linc said.

  She climbed out of the truck, shutting the door behind her. The gravel beneath the thin soles of her shoes poked at her feet, but she was used to it. It felt like she was home. As she got closer to the trailer, the memory of her last morning at the trailer flooded back. It was all bits and pieces until she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  As she shut the door behind her, she remembered everything that had happened. She’d gotten out of bed before the sun had even come up. She didn’t remember exactly what time it had been, but it was that time when it seems like it’s still the middle of the night, but it’s also early morning. Holly had tried to go back to sleep, but it had been useless. Finally, she’d stumbled out of bed and had gone to the bathroom when she noticed that the light was on in the kitchen. She went down the narrow hall to the tiny kitchen area, expecting to see her mother at the stove or sitting at the little table. When she didn’t see her there, she looked in the living room, but Maggie wasn’t there either.

  She’d looked back towards the kitchen and noticed her mom had left her cell phone on the counter. She’d gone into the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and taken out some pancake mix. She was pretty sure her mother had fallen off the wagon and was out getting drunk or high, although she hated herself for assuming that now.

  Why did I have to assume the worst? she ch
ided herself. Maybe she wouldn’t have left the trailer if she thought I’d be more supportive. Maybe, rather than going down the street to the church to pray, she would have woken me up to talk. If she had, she’d still be alive right now.

  Tears began to trickle down Holly’s cheeks. The sad thing was, she knew things were better in the few short hours since her mother had been murdered, than they’d ever been when her mother was alive. She hated to admit it, but it was true. She didn’t know how long Brigid would let her stay with her, but for now she lived in a nice house, had cable and internet, and even a nice laptop of her own. Plus, she had people around her who didn’t seem to have problems with alcohol or drugs. All of those things hadn’t been possible when her mother was alive.

  She pushed her unpleasant thoughts away and began looking around the living room. She could tell things had been moved when the officers had searched the trailer, but even so, it was pretty much the same as before. She wandered around the room, looking at the worn furniture and the old TV. She picked up the blanket her mother had crocheted that was always draped across the back of the couch. Holding it up to her face, she inhaled the scent deeply. It still smelled like her mom’s perfume. A hard lump formed in Holly’s throat before she folded it over and started to assemble a pile of things she wanted to take with her.

  She looked at the pictures hanging on the wall and pulled down an old photo of her mother, her aunt, and her grandmother. Her mom had been about sixteen when the picture was taken. Holly had never had a chance to meet her grandmother or her aunt. Her grandmother had died shortly after the picture was taken, and her mother had told her that her aunt had moved away a few months later.

  Holly put the photo on top of the blanket before she took down another photo. It was one Holly had saved up her money to buy. She and her mother had their picture taken together, and Holly had it blown up. She’d gone to a flea market and spent the rest of her money on a frame. She’d given it to her mother five years ago.

  As she looked at the picture, Holly was overwhelmed by a sea of memories of her mom. The lump in her throat returned as she fought to control her emotions. Finally, she succumbed to them and the tears that had been a slow trickle became a river. A sob built up in her chest and broke through all her defenses. A tidal wave of emotions flooded over her as she gripped the photo of her and her mother. She clutched it to her chest, willing herself to go back to that time. She would give anything to go back there, if only for a moment, just to feel her mother’s skin, to hear her voice, anything.

  Holly sat on the floor and cried for what felt like forever, yet when she looked at the time it had only been a few minutes. She stood and put the photo on the blanket with the other one before going to the bathroom and blowing her nose with the cheap rough toilet paper her mother had to buy in order to save money. She looked at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath.

  Time to keep moving, she thought. If Mom ever taught me anything, it was how to be strong. Things may not be how I want them to be, but I have to believe that I have the power to make the most out of it. Leaning over the sink she turned on the water and splashed water on her face.

  I can do this. I can still go to college if I keep working hard. At least I won’t have to go to the library to do my homework and study anymore. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I have to take the bad with the good because I really don’t have any choice. Then she felt guilty for even thinking that her mother’s murder could be a blessing in disguise.

  Holly dried her face and began to go through the things in the bathroom. She pulled out a bottle of her mother's perfume and a couple of her favorite fingernail polishes. After adding them to the collection on the couch, she slowly walked down the hall to her mother’s room.

  She knew she wanted to take most of the things in her own room with her, so she didn’t feel the need to sort through it first. No, for now she needed to do the hard stuff alone. It was really nothing new to her. She’d been alone and dealing with the hard stuff for so many years by herself, she didn’t feel comfortable doing it in front of people who were virtually strangers.

  It wasn’t that Holly didn’t like Brigid and Linc. She thought they were great people, and she trusted them completely. It was just that she didn’t want others to know how vulnerable she was. She’d kept all of her problems inside for so long, it was going to take a lot of time before she would feel comfortable talking about them.

  She opened her mother’s bedroom door, feeling the heavy sadness return, but instead of trying to hide from it she allowed the feelings free rein. She smiled, laughed at some memories, and cried at others. She picked out a few trinkets her mother had loved and even a few items of clothing.

  By the time she was finished, the pile on the couch was quite large. Each item represented a memory or a part of her life that she wasn’t ready to let go of quite yet. When she placed the last item on the couch, she felt she was ready for whatever the future brought. Holly went to the front door and opened it, waving for Linc and Brigid to come in.

  Linc closed the door behind them. Brigid took one look at Holly’s face and said, “Oh, honey.” She pulled the young girl into her arms. At first, Holly stiffened, but the longer Brigid held her the more relaxed she became, until she felt safe enough to cry.

  Her body shook with deep racking sobs, her face buried in Brigid’s shoulder. Brigid turned her head and softly kissed Holly’s hair, her own tears starting to fall. Linc walked over to them and wrapped his arms around them, pulling them in close to him. They stayed that way until Holly stopped crying, all of them feeling unbelievably close to each other in that long poignant moment.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Are you sure this is all you want?” Brigid asked after they’d loaded the last bag into the back of Linc’s truck.

  Holly stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked around. Her eyes landed on the small notebook that had been pushed to the side, the note her mother had left her last night still facing the ceiling. Holly picked up the notebook and flipped the cover closed. She slipped it in her pocket before she turned toward Brigid and Linc. “Yeah, I think so.” Holly smiled slightly. “Most of it’s just stuff, you know?”

  “If you change your mind, let me know. We can come back later or tomorrow if you think of anything else you want.”

  “Thanks, I will,” Holly said.

  “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m starving. I’m in the mood for some good, old fashioned, home cooking. How about coming over to my house for dinner tonight?” Linc asked as they climbed in the truck.

  Brigid turned and looked at Holly. “That sounds great to me. What do you think, Holly? Want to try out Linc’s cooking? He’s pretty good.”

  “Sure, that would be fine,” Holly said.

  “Good,” Linc said. “Does anything sound good? What’s your favorite type of food?”

  “Pasta, hands down.” Holly said. “If I could have it every day, I would.”

  “Then I guess it’s good that I was planning on making baked penne pasta with a carbonara sauce. I’m part Italian, so I cook a lot of pasta,” Linc said. “How about if you two come over say, around 6:00? That will give us time to get these things back to your place. While you’re getting settled, I’ll go to the store to get what I need, and I’ll have plenty of time to get it started.”

  “That sounds great,” Brigid said. She was really glad that Linc and Holly were getting along so well. She liked having Holly around. It was odd having someone else in the house, but at the same time it was also a good feeling.

  After the short drive across town to Brigid’s they unpacked Linc’s truck. When he left Linc promised he’d pick something up for dessert. As he pulled out of the driveway, he leaned out his window and said, “I’m assuming anything with chocolate would be fine with both of you, would I be right?”

  “That you would be,” Brigid said with a laugh.

  “He really likes you,” Holly said as they lugged the last bag into her room. />
  “You think?” Brigid asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Definitely,” Holly said with a knowing smile.

  “What makes you say that?” Brigid asked as she started pulling clothes out of one of the bags and folding them.

  “It’s just the way he looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. And when you talk? He gets this sparkle in his eyes. Have you two been together for a while?” Holly asked as she started taking items out of another bag and arranging them on the shelves in the closet.

  “We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. We’re not trying to make a big deal out of it,” Brigid said. “Just kind of seeing where it takes us.”

  Holly stopped and looked at Brigid, “Have you met his parents?”

  Brigid paused before saying, “Yes.”

  “Oh, then he’s definitely serious,” Holly said as she returned to putting her things away.

  “What makes you say that, and how do you know all of this?” Brigid asked incredulously.

  “I read a lot. Sometimes when I got bored I’d read some of the self-help books at the library. A lot of them are on relationships and stuff like that, so I have a pretty good sense about when a relationship is getting serious,” Holly said with a smirk.

  Brigid laughed. “You’re kind of a crazy kid, you know that?”

  Holly shrugged. “Well, you just never know when something you read will become important to you. I love reading books, and it was kind of interesting to read about different human behaviors and then watch them in action.”

  They continued to go through the things Holly had brought to the house and organize them. Brigid decided Holly needed a new desk and another set of shelves. After arguing with Holly about whether or not they were needed, she went online and ordered them. When she was finished Holly thanked her and agreed they’d look great in her room, even though she’d told Brigid she was perfectly happy with the furniture that was already in there. Brigid told her it was a done deal and that the furniture would be delivered in two weeks.