Bones in the Begonias

by Dale Mayer

  They kept walking down the creek bed, not seeing another person on either side of the creek. It was a good thing for her but a shame more people didn’t enjoy the bounty here. She understood how easy it was to become accustomed to a beautiful view and to no longer find any joy in something because it became commonplace.

  Whereas for her, she hoped she never got to that point. The creek itself had been a gold mine of unusual events in her life. Should they be written down? She wondered idly if she should write a book. There was something to be said about Millicent’s journals. They were a lovely reminder of years gone by. Maybe Doreen should put all these thoughts and findings into her own journal of some kind, but she wasn’t sure it would be of value to anybody but herself. Although it would be a great way to keep her memories clear, particularly if anything should happen and her memory started to fade.

  Turning the corner on the first block, the four of them continued down the next couple blocks until they reached the far corner of Nan’s place. Just as Doreen was about to cross the grass, the gardener straightened and glared at her.

  She sighed. “If we cross here, we’ll get in trouble,” she said to Mugs.

  Mugs barked and then barked again.

  Nan stood and waved. Doreen smiled and waved back. “How are we supposed to get to you without walking on the grass?” she complained.

  Nan finally understood what the problem was. She turned to look at the gardener. “Why don’t you put some stepping stones in so my family can join me?” she cried out.

  The gardener shook his head. “They can walk around.”

  “But we can’t,” Doreen said. They’d had this argument many times. “The only way to get to Nan’s patio without cutting across the grass is going through the building, and I am not allowed to take the animals into the building.”

  He gave her a big wide smile. “Exactly.”

  She glared at him and deliberately strode across the grass to Nan’s patio. “He’s determined that we can’t come to visit you,” she muttered when she hugged her grandmother.

  “He’s just grumpy. So many people here are cranky.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” She studied Nan’s face. “And you are positively glowing.”

  “Oh, how lovely of you to say so.” Nan reached up to clap her hands on her own cheeks. Adding to the bright pink color there.

  Doreen studied her intently. “You have a definitely mischievous look to you. Just what are you up to, Nan?”

  Nan gave her that innocent look which Doreen had come to recognize.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Tell me. What’s up?”

  Nan leaned forward. “Remember that horrible manager we had? The one we were taking bets on for when he would hand in his notice?”

  “Oh, dear.” Doreen sat back in her chair. “Grandma, you know you’re not supposed to be betting.”

  “Well, I didn’t set up this pool.” Nan waved her hand as if to dismiss the issue. “Somebody else set it up. So it really doesn’t count in this case.”

  “Okay, go ahead and explain this. What difference does it make?”

  “Well, I won the pool,” she said excitedly.

  Doreen chuckled. “You’re not supposed to be betting yourself or setting up any betting pools in the first place. Or do you think that, as long as somebody else sets it up, you can place a bet, and it makes it okay?”

  Nan chucked with such glee that Doreen had to smile.

  “And what will you do with the spoils of your pot?”

  Nan grinned and held out her hand. “Give me your hand.”

  Doreen held out her hand and grasped Nan’s. Stroking the paper-thin skin along the back of her grandmother’s hand, she frowned. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Nan? Your hands are really dry. Are you eating well?”

  Nan’s laughter rippled loud and free. “I am eating fine. You’re not.” She rolled Doreen’s hand out so her palm was flat, pulled something from her pants pocket, smacked it into Doreen’s palm, and then curled her granddaughter’s fingers over it. “There. Now take that and spend it all.”

  Doreen stared at her, then looked at the money poking through the top of her clenched fist. “Oh, Nan.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  Nan smiled. “I know how tough things have been for you. This is extra money. I don’t need it.”

  “Maybe I don’t need it either,” she lied.

  “You never could lie worth a darn, dear. And I know perfectly well you do need it.” Nan smiled. “Don’t be so proud as to turn down assistance when it’s offered. And, if I can’t spoil you, who else can I spoil? You’re the only family I have.”

  Doreen felt tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to count the money. She tucked it into her pocket carefully. “Thank you. But you know I don’t come here to get money from you, right?”

  Nan gave her the gentlest of smiles. “Even if you did, I’d be happy to help,” she said. “You’re my dearest granddaughter. And I love you. The fact that you visit me is a joy. Do you know how many people in this place never see their family?”

  Doreen winced. “I am sure there are many. It’s very sad. And I hate to say it, but, if I wasn’t getting divorced, I don’t know how much time I’d be able to spend with you either.”

  Nan smiled. “See? That’s the thing. Maybe the divorce happened for this very reason, because I am delighted to have you in my life again.” She clapped her hands. “Enough of this emotional conversation. There is a lovely tuna casserole in the kitchen. It’s way too big for one person, so I’m delighted to share it with you. You sit here,” she said. “I’ll just pull it out of the oven.”

  Moments later Nan returned with a small casserole pan and set it in the middle of the tiny patio table. “It’s so lovely outside. I’d like to eat here, if you’re okay with that?”

  “Always,” Doreen said warmly. “This looks really good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? Sammy made it for me.”

  “Sammy?” Doreen hadn’t heard that name before.

  Nan served up a portion for each of them. As soon as she passed a plate to Doreen, a lovely cheese and tuna aroma filled the air. “Sammy. He was a dentist in town for years. He knows everybody.”

  “Even me?”

  “Oh, my dear.” Nan trilled with laughter. “Everybody knows who you are now. You’re more famous than I am.”

  “Great,” Doreen muttered. “That’s not exactly what I wanted to be, you know?”

  “That’s all right. We all find our own path to happiness. And, if finding dead bodies is yours, then I’m all for it.”

  Doreen stared at her for a long moment. “You did not just say that.”

  Nan nodded comfortably. “Hey, maybe you should have been a detective. Maybe you should join the police force and become a forensic something or other.”

  “I’d love to, but it’s pretty late in my life. It’s not that I’m old, but it takes a lot of years to get an education for a field like that.” She shrugged, tried the first bite of the casserole, but it was so hot she couldn’t eat it yet. “I mentioned something like that to Mack, and he shuddered.”

  “Of course he did.” Nan chuckled. “If you want, just stay as the amateur detective. You can still make his life miserable, my dear.”

  They shared conspiratorial looks. Doreen blew gently on her first forkful and popped it into her mouth. Immediately warm, creamy, cheesy goodness filled her mouth. “Oh, this is delicious,” she moaned.

  Nan nodded. “Sammy is a great cook.”

  “He can come around and cook at my place anytime,” Doreen said. “I am half starving.”

  Nan nodded. “I noticed. If you get any skinnier, you’ll have to buy new clothes.”

  “Not happening. Can’t afford that.” She plowed through the tuna casserole until the first wave of her appetite was appeased. Then she settled back and ate a little slower. “Do you know a Brian Lansdown?”

  Nan studied her. “Wow. I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
<
br />   “So you do know him?”

  “Knew him, yes. He was the local handyman/landscaper/gardener.”

  “Did he ever do any work at your house?” The last thing Doreen wanted to think about was more bones in the back garden. It would be too much coincidence to have another person buried in Nan’s garden.

  “No, he and I never really got along.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t like his manner,” Nan said abruptly. “Honestly, he scared me.”

  Doreen slowly lowered her fork. “In what way?”

  “He was a very rough-around-the-edges kind of a man. But there was a look in his eyes. One of those looks that said, cross him, and he’ll take you out permanently.”

  She dared not tell Nan what she thought just now. Nan’s questions would never stop if Doreen went down that path. So she asked another question instead. “Do you remember any more details about Betty Miles? I am also trying to get information on the Theroux family.”

  Nan looked up again. “Oh my. You are asking about the big families.”

  “Is Lansdown a founding family?”

  Nan shook her head. “No, but he was always on the outs with them. And, of course, Betty Miles was part of that Lansdown family, on the black sheep poor side. Hannah Theroux is part of the poorer side of the Theroux family. But there’s a big difference between Betty’s kind of poor and Hannah’s kind of poor.”

  “Do tell.” Doreen was still stymied with the of course comment. Nan forgot that Doreen was new to town and hadn’t lived with the history of the many long-running family dramas in town, but she didn’t want to slow Nan’s words. It could be hard to get her back on track again.

  “After Betty disappeared, supposedly at the same time as some of the Theroux family jewelry was stolen, the Theroux family was in an uproar. For so long everyone had thought Betty was just a runaway, and she’d pop back up like a bad penny again. But then her arm showed up, and again supposedly some Theroux jewelry was with her arm. Betty was from the poorest side of town, part of the Lansdown family. Not even the poorer part of the Therouxs lived on the poorest side of town. The rich Therouxs didn’t want their name mucked about with this whole investigation, not even to get their stolen jewels back.”

  “Ah.” Doreen understood now. There always seemed to be a black sheep in a family somewhere. Unfortunately for Betty, she seemed to naturally fall into the black sheep side of the Lansdown family, along with her scary uncle? “What about Hannah?”

  “When Betty started going down a dark path, the Therouxs tried to convince Hannah to stay away from her. And it seemed like it worked because they weren’t together very much over those last few months before Betty disappeared. But I always suspected Hannah knew more than she let on.”

  “It makes sense that she was protecting somebody.”

  “Oh, I don’t know that she was protecting anybody. But she always had that fearful look in her eye, as if she thought she’d be the next one to go missing,” Nan said in a low tone.

  The hairs rose on the back of Doreen’s neck. “Was there any Theroux connection to Lansdown at the time?”

  Nan popped the last bite of tuna casserole into her mouth, then sat back as she chewed. With a very ladylike gesture, she picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “I know Lansdown did a lot of work for the Therouxs at the time. But then they were a big founding family, and everybody wanted to work for them. They had full-time gardeners, but, whenever they needed an extra man to pitch in, they brought Brian in.”

  “How do you know this?”

  Nan looked at her in surprise. “It’s not like it wasn’t common knowledge. Besides, Gladys is here with me.”

  Feeling like the world just never quit going around and around in the circle of never-ending names she didn’t have faces to put to, Doreen asked, “Gladys?”

  “Oh, my dear, Gladys Theroux. She married Norm at least fifty years ago. Maybe more than that.”

  “So was she Hannah’s mother?”

  “Hannah’s aunt.”

  “I’m trying to get the family tree together in my head. Did you ever ask her about what happened back then?”

  Nan shook her head. “Gladys is on the rich side of the Therouxs. When the two girls were really tight, Gladys said that Hannah would spend a lot of nights at Betty’s place. But then there was a big tiff and they stopped hanging out completely. That was about three months before Betty went missing.”

  “Any idea what caused the best friends to just cut off all contact like that?”

  “Well, as everyone who’s ever been a teenager knows, your parents don’t understand anything, and it’s all about finding someone to love—or misplaced as the sex act—but just gaining that sense of belonging somewhere, no matter how misguided or mismatched.”

  “Yeah, like breaking up with your boyfriend from math class, finding out the fairy tale wasn’t there. Then to have your best friend dating him the next day. I remember those high school years.”

  “Yet we may never know what came between Hannah and Betty.” Nan sighed. “Nobody in the Theroux family was allowed to talk about the event from then on. Even now that she’s a widow, just the mention of anything back then regarding their poorer relations is enough to make Gladys clam up.”

  “Suspicious.”

  “Very,” Nan confirmed. “But I doubt you’d get anything out of her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s dependent on the founding family for her livelihood now. This place isn’t terribly cheap.”

  Doreen looked around at the large seniors’ home and realized just how much the aged were dependent on the younger ones if they didn’t have their own finances or control of their own money. “What about Hannah? She seems to have disappeared at the moment. Mack was looking for her.”

  “Why?”

  Doreen gave her grandmother a lopsided smile. “Because she’s the one who hit me.”

  Nan stared at her in surprise, then clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. When she got a hold of herself, she leaned forward and whispered, “Really?”

  Doreen leaned closer. “And the reporter who’s giving me no end of grief is also a Theroux apparently.”

  “That’s Sibyl,” Nan said. “She was always like that. Pushy, pushy, pushy.”

  “Well then, she’s in the right career, isn’t she?” Doreen paused. “Her face turned seriously white when I asked her if she was related to Hannah.”

  “Hannah’s her aunt.”

  “Can you think of any reason why Hannah would have protected whoever killed Betty?”

  “Not really. I always thought it had to do with the jewels myself.”

  “It always does,” Doreen said. “It’s either power or money or sex.”

  Nan laughed. “In this case it could be all three.”

  Doreen stared at her grandmother in astonishment. “Explain please?”

  “Hannah’s father liked young girls. I always suspected he had a relationship with Betty.”

  “How does that relate to the jewels?” Doreen asked, quite shocked, taking in that information. “If that was the case, would Hannah have tried to protect her father? Or blame him?”

  Nan added, “I think they were being blackmailed.” Nan sat back with a look of satisfaction after dropping that bombshell.

  “Who was blackmailed?” Doreen asked. Nan wasn’t making any sense. Or she was privy to a whole lot of information not many people knew.

  “Hannah’s parents. Gladys mentioned something way back then, that they had to pay up or else.”

  “And when did that stop? Do you know?”

  Nan shook her head, leaning forward, and whispered, “But I bet it was when Brian Lansdown died.”

  “Did you ever tell any of this to the police?”

  Nan looked at Doreen in surprise. “Of course not. I don’t have any proof. That’s just people talking.”

  “And theory or gossip or not, it doesn’t explain why Betty would be car
rying jewels when she disappeared.”

  Nan chuckled. “Well, it does if you realize Betty’s father was Lansdown’s brother.”

  Chapter 25

  Doreen was gobsmacked. “How is that possible? Why isn’t Betty’s last name Lansdown?”

  Nan shook her head. “I don’t believe Betty’s mother and father ever married, or, if they did, it was so belated that everyone had the name ‘Betty Miles’ so stuck in their head that they just continued to call her that. You know what? I remember there was some question as to paternity. I think she ended up not listing a father on the birth certificate. Her and Stephen broke up and made up then broke up again a dozen times, she might have figured he shouldn’t be listed on the paperwork. He’s in jail now.” She paused and frowned. “Or he was. I don’t know if he still is.”

  Doreen asked, “Do you have a piece of paper, so I can write some of this down?”

  Nan got up and came back with a small notebook and a pen. “I really like this hobby of yours,” she said in a conspirator’s tone. “It’s very exciting.”

  “I don’t think Mack agrees with you,” Doreen said with a sideways look. She tried to write down the information in as straightforward a manner as possible. “So Betty Miles’s father owned a jewelry store and is the brother to Brian Lansdown, who was the gardener/handyman with the attitude that scared you, correct?”

  Nan nodded.

  Doreen wrote down the rest of the family relations the best that she could. “It’s an assumption that Hannah Theroux’s father was having a relationship with Betty, even though Betty was only sixteen, correct?”

  “That’s what the rumors were back then,” Nan said easily. “But you know what rumors are like. Only half are true.”

  “It would explain why Lansdown was blackmailing Hannah’s father. What was his name?”

  “Glenn. Glenn and Rosie. But Glenn died some years back.”

  Doreen wrote down those names. “So they were trying to keep that a secret. And were probably paying the blackmailer in jewels in order to keep his silence.”

  “That would make sense.”

  “Then Glenn and Rosie would file a claim for the loss of the jewelry, supposedly a result of a break-in,” Doreen said, working her way through this. “They probably got insurance money for the jewelry, so nobody was out anything.”