A Well-Kept Family Secret

by Marja McGraw

  Not then, he answered. V. said he’d no more reached the District, as he prefers to call it, when he changed his mind and returned to the house. He arrived in time to see Dr. Drake leaving.

  Two men! It was too much for him. He entered the house and confronted the woman. He saw her wounds but it did not matter to him. Vincente had no sympathy for an affair gone wrong, which is what he thought had happened.

  They argued and he lost his temper, something that seldom happens. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen table and plunged it into her heart, and left her lying on the kitchen floor while he returned to his business as though nothing had happened.

  But this is such a strange story. V. explained that to make other people believe in his innocence, he had to convince himself of it. For over a year, even when he only thought of the incident, he thought in terms of finding her body already dead when he returned home. He fooled all of us, even himself for a time. But as V. grows older, he can no longer fool himself. He needed to tell someone of his deed.

  No, Sister, I do not believe he has grown a conscience, but he wanted someone else to carry part of his heavy burden.

  Oh yes. There were witnesses to his presence in Little Paree that night. Vincente made a point of speaking to those who would vouch for him. He casually reminded them of what time they had seen him. I believe he committed the perfect murder.

  Does Vincente feel remorse for what he has done, you might ask? No! He could not feel such an emotion.

  There is something wrong with his mind. I believe he took the other harlot’s life, too. If he had committed one murder, why not another? Even though I was fearful, I asked V. about this, wanting to know if she had truly taken her own life.

  Don Vincente Chavez, for he thinks of himself as a Don, stood up then and patted my arm. He told me no more, but turned and left the house. I was so relieved when he left. I have a very healthy fear of this man and ran to lock my doors. I will not tell another soul what I know or I may meet the same fate as the two harlots.

  I have not heard from Vincente since that night and never seek him out.

  And Sister, I am not posting this letter to you. You’ll never see it. I had to work this through in my mind, and this was the only way I could do that.

  There was a knock on the door as I laid the letter on the table. I sat for a long moment before deciding I’d better see who was there.

  I found Pete standing on the doorstep, hands full of bags and cold drinks.

  “Pete,” I said. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  He listened without questions or comments while I read the letter to him. I didn’t say anything, but waited while he processed the information.

  He sat quietly, shaking his head. “Those women never had a chance. And it sounds like it might be a good thing your grandmother kept her mouth shut.”

  “I think you’re right. Can you imagine the mental torment that poor woman must have gone through, knowing what this man had done and not feeling she could tell anyone? I’ll bet she threw a party on the day he died.”

  “You’re probably right,” Pete said.

  “I believe Vincente felt both women had crossed him, and from what I’ve read, that was something he wouldn’t tolerate. Except for Merced. He seemed to put up with whatever she said or did, but then she wasn’t a prostitute or after his precious gold.”

  “Are you going to tell your mother what you found?” Pete asked.

  “No. Thank God she wasn’t here when I found the letter. I’m not sure how she’d take finding out that we have a murderer in the family, especially a crazy one. This is going to have to be my own well-kept family secret.”

  I sat quietly for a minute, mulling over Merced’s letter and the shocking information.

  “What are you thinking?” Pete asked. “You look so far away.”

  “It’s scary to think I had someone like him in my family.”

  “This happened over a hundred years ago. Don’t worry about it,” Pete said. “Besides, he was just one puny little drop in a great big gene pool.”

  “I think he was more of a big drip. I am worried though. Mom wanted me to solve this, but she was sure Vincente hadn’t done it. She and Aunt Martha are a little tweaked when it comes to family matters.”

  “So stick to what you said to her before and don’t tell her. You told her there didn’t seem to be any way to really resolve it. She doesn’t have to know you found that letter.”

  “You’re right. I don’t need to tell her.”

  “Why don’t we go open a few more of those boxes,” Pete said, obviously trying to redirect my attention. “And maybe we’ll find some more furniture. You like furniture.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. You sound like you’re talking to a kid. I’m fine. I don’t like what I found out, but I’m okay with it. So we had a nut case in our family. So what? Plenty of people have nuts in their family. I’ve heard that Southerners even celebrate their eccentric relatives. He’s been dead and buried for a long time, and no one else in the family is nuts. Well, at least my loveable nut case has the excuse of menopause. Of course, there is Aunt Martha…”

  “I’ll tell you what, Sandi. This will go down as one of our most interesting cases, even though no one will ever know about it.”

  “Yeah, there is that.”

  “And, you’re forgetting one thing,” Pete added.

  “What’s that?”

  “The treasure. Merced made the comment that she knew where it was, so it could feasibly still turn up. I can almost guarantee you it’s here somewhere. In fact, I’ll bet it’s up in the attic. Let’s go unpack some more boxes.” Pete stood and held his hand out to me.

  “You go ahead. I just want to sit here and digest all of this for a few more minutes. I’ll be up soon.”

  Treasure? Who cared about a treasure? As it turned out, I did.

  Chapter Forty-four

  Stanley returned around four o’clock and helped Pete and me arrange furniture. I wasn’t in the mood to work in the attic, so after moving pieces around so many times that the men were ready to kick me out, they relaxed and watched sports on TV. I unpacked some of the boxes I’d brought from the apartment and tried to make my house look like a home.

  That evening my mother and Frank brought Chinese food for dinner. I’d popped a frozen berry cobbler in the oven, so we had dessert, too.

  Mother helped me clean up the dishes and we chatted while we worked.

  “So you unpacked some of the boxes in the attic?” she asked.

  “Yes, and we found quite a few interesting things. I’m amazed people left so much up there. I can’t imagine myself leaving things behind. It’s been fun browsing through all of the boxes though.”

  “Find anything really interesting?” Curiosity? She couldn’t know anything.

  “Tons of things. You’ll want to take a look at all of it with me. By the way, we worked our way back to that desk I was so interested in. There was enough left in it to make me believe it was Grandma Merced’s desk.” I couldn’t look at her.

  “What was in it?”

  I took a deep mental breath. “Old correspondence, an old newspaper, stuff like that. I haven’t had a chance to look too closely.” I exhaled.

  “We’ll have to go through it and see if there might be any more clues about the old murder,” Mother said, studying my face. “Are you okay, Sandi? You look kind of funny.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Just tired. It’s been a busy few days. Maybe while we’re working on the yard Saturday, you can take a break and go through a few of the boxes for me. It’s like a treasure hunt.”

  I described some of the things I’d found and she wanted to go right up and take a look. She knew Frank would want to see everything, too.

  “Pete’s going to ask Frank and Stanley to help him bring that desk down to my office, so we’ll all go up. Umm, no, forget that. There won’t be enough room for all of us because of all the boxes. You and I can go up there after they move the des
k.”

  We walked out to the living room, but no one was there. I heard some banging noises coming from upstairs, so we climbed up to see what was going on.

  The three men had the desk halfway out of the attic door, and they were stuck. That is, Stanley and the desk were stuck. Stanley’s hand was caught between the piece of furniture and the doorjamb. The men had removed the top of the desk and were moving it in two pieces. The bottom part was on its side, half in and half out of the doorway.

  “Don’t move it,” Stanley pleaded. “There’s got to be a way to get my hand out without injuring my fingers.”

  “Sorry, man,” Pete said. “There’s no way to get you out without smashing your fingers.” I could see the corners of his lips twitch.

  “You’re teasing me, right?” Stanley sounded very hopeful.

  “I think Pete’s right,” Frank said. “You’re too stuck for us to do anything but just rip that desk right through the door. And maybe your fingers with it.”

  I could see Stanley starting to sweat. He seemed to know they were joking, but at the same time there was always the slim possibility they weren’t.

  “Okay, you guys, knock it off and get him out of there.” I said this with some authority, knowing they were carrying things just a tad too far.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Pete saluted me.

  “Hold really still,” Frank directed. “Don’t move a muscle.” The corners of his mouth were twitching, too.

  “Okay,” Stanley replied quietly, closing his eyes tightly and clenching his jaws. I could see him suck in his breath and puff his chest out, which certainly wasn’t going to help his fingers. Poor Stanley.

  Pete glanced at Frank. “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  They tipped the desk slightly back and Stanley’s fingers were free.

  “Whew. That was a close one.” Pete grinned at Stanley.

  “Oh, you guys. I couldn’t see that there was room on the other side, between the desk and the edge of the door.” Stanley was with friends, and he seemed to know it as he looked at each of us.

  I turned to my mother, and we just shook our heads.

  Mother turned to Frank. “Honestly, you boys should be ashamed of yourselves for scaring Stanley like that.”

  Stanley didn’t correct her and ask her to call him Stan. Apparently, she was the exception to the new rule, because this was the second time she’d called him by his proper name and he’d let it go. He was having a good time, and it seemed as though that was really all that mattered.

  The men grunted and struggled, carrying the heavy desk down the stairs. Mother and I waited until they returned to cart off the top section before we entered the attic.

  “It’s too dark in here to see anything.” Mother was squinting while she tried to take a mental inventory.

  “Wait here,” I said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Fortunately, I remembered where I’d placed the extension cords. They were in my office. I figured I’d just hook a bunch together and run a line up to plug a lamp into.

  “What are you doing?” Pete asked, watching me while I plugged each one into the next. Frank and Stanley had retreated to the living room, but Pete was still arranging the desk.

  “I’m taking a lamp up to the attic.”

  “Not like that, you’re not. You wanna catch this house on fire? Those extension cords look like they’re twenty years old. Besides, on my way back from picking up lunch, I stopped at the hardware store and bought you something.”

  “You did? What?” I asked.

  “I bought you a hundred foot extension cord and a shop light.” He sounded proud of himself.

  “What’s a shop light?”

  “It’s like the light a mechanic uses when he’s working on a car. It has a hook on it so you can hang it from a rafter or whatever you want.”

  “Oh, Pete, you think of everything. Thank you, honey.” I gave him a hug. “Where is it? Mom wants to look through the attic with me.”

  “It’s in the car. I’ll go get it.”

  I climbed upstairs to the attic. “Pete bought me a light for up here,” I explained. “He’ll be back in a minute and we’ll be able to take a look around.”

  “Wasn’t that nice of him? He seems like such a thoughtful young man, don’t you think?” Mother looked hopeful.

  “He has his moments.” Yeah, Pete is a good guy when all is said and done, although maybe a little bossy sometimes.

  Pete returned, light in hand and extension cord trailing behind him, and hung it up for us. He’d plugged it in down on the second floor.

  “You might want to think about having a light put in up here,” Mother suggested.

  “I don’t think I’ll probably be up here all that much once I go through these things,” I replied. “The shop light will work fine.”

  “Good point. But think about the idea.” She began taking boxes down, ready to look for treasures. I stopped her long enough to show her the cedar chest. She was completely taken with it, oohing and aahing. I noticed her gaze kept drifting back to it while we worked on the boxes.

  “I’d like you to have that chest, Mom, for your new home. Consider it a wedding gift.” I paused and thought about what I’d said. “No, I’ll buy you something else for a wedding gift, but I still want you to have the chest.”

  “Oh, Sandi, that’s so generous of you. I really love it. It’s going to look beautiful in the new house. And you don’t need to buy us anything. This is a wonderful wedding gift.” She stopped talking and hugged me. It was the longest, tightest hug I’d ever received from my mother. It felt good.

  We worked for quite a while. The boys, as I now thought of them, came up every so often to see if we had trash ready to carry down. I asked Pete what they were doing downstairs and he said they were watching a movie. My bet was that it was a Clint Eastwood film, and Mom took that bet, guessing it was a Bruce Willis movie.

  We were both wrong. “We’re watching Arnold Schwarzenegger,” Pete said over his shoulder as he left the attic.

  “Figures,” I said. “I knew it had to be an action movie.”

  Mother and I unwrapped and set aside a set of antique dishware, figurines, crocheted doilies, and a box of baby clothes including a very old baptismal dress. We finally stopped when we reached a box of old adult clothing, circa 1900.

  “I’ll bet these dresses belonged to Merced. She was a tiny little thing, wasn’t she?” Mother held one up, looking enthusiastic.

  “I know, can you believe this stuff has been sitting up here for all of these years? It’s mind-boggling,” I replied. “It’s late though, so why don’t we stop for tonight?”

  “I have to admit, I’m awfully tired myself. It’s been a hectic few days for Frank and me. Well, for you and Pete, too.”

  “And Stanley,” I added.

  “Dear Stanley,” Mother said. “What a sweet little man. He’s a one-of-a-kind, isn’t he? And he seems to enjoy being around you and Pete so very much.”

  “He’s become a good friend. Did I tell you we’ve hired him to work for us part-time?”

  “No, but I’m happy to hear that. I think you two are good for him.” Mother was picking up some wrapping paper and stuffing it into an empty box. “Let’s clean up a little and go check on the boys.”

  “Mom, I want to tell you that I’m really happy you and Frank found each other,” I said, while we finished working. “You deserve the happiness he’ll give you. You spent too many years alone.”

  “I dated from time to time.” She sounded indignant. I hadn’t meant to step on her toes.

  “I know you did, but you should have a real relationship, not just a casual date. I’m glad you have someone who’ll take care of you for a change. It seems like you were always taking care of other people, like Aunt Martha. You deserve this happiness.”

  “Thank you, sweetie. Frank makes me very happy. And he accepts me the way I am, mood swings and all. He’s a very special man.” Her eyes
teared up, but she didn’t cry. I felt my own eyes watering, too. “And I think you’ve found your own happiness in Pete. You two seem to complement each other.”

  “I guess we do,” I said, thoughtfully. “I never looked at it quite that way.”

  Finishing up, we made the journey downstairs. The movie had just ended and the boys were stretching and yawning.

  “Time to go home,” Stanley said. “Thank you for dinner. It was a most pleasant day. If you need any more assistance, let me know.”

  “Thanks, Stanley. You really were a big help,” I said gratefully. “You’re coming back for the barbeque on Saturday, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be here bright and early.”

  Mom and Frank were the next to leave, and Pete wasn’t far behind them, which surprised me. I thought he might stick around for a while, but he said he was tired and had some things to take care of at home.

  And to be honest, it was nice to stroll around the house by myself and simply look at everything. Someday it would belong to me.

  “Well, they’ll all be back on Saturday. We’ll clean up that yard and you’ll feel like a new home.” I realized I was talking to the house and couldn’t help chuckling. It felt so good.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Over the next couple of days, Pete and I worked on a few of our other cases. In the evening I continued to put things away and work in the attic. I found a few knickknacks and a wonderful old painting to hang in the living room, but most of the things would end up in an antique shop somewhere, unless my mother and Frank wanted some of what I’d found.

  On Friday I stopped and bought furniture oil. I’d talked to Owen, at the furniture store, and he made a few suggestions about what might work on the old oak wood. I spent that evening working on Grandma Merced’s desk. I hadn’t gone through most of its contents yet, and moved all of the papers to a small box while I cleaned. This was a task I completed slowly and with loving care. When I was done the desk was the only treasure I needed. Good thing, since I had no idea where to look for the real deal. And since I’d tucked Grandma Merced’s letter away, my mother could look at the other papers from the desk and take her time about it.