Dandelion Summer

by Mary Ellen Bramwell

  Gingerly they moved down the shadowy corridor toward the door at the end with light escaping around its edges. As they drew closer, they could make out the nameplate beside it: Peter Bruce, Attorney-at-Law.

  As Mom reached for the door handle, it unexpectedly opened, almost knocking her over. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, flustered.

  “No bother,” a scantily-clad woman said, brushing past her, the tinkling of her cheap jewelry and earrings calling back to them as she made her way outside.

  Madelyn’s eyes were wide. “Are you sure we want to talk to him?” Mom simply nodded in reply as she entered the law office of Peter Bruce.

  Inside, it appeared empty. “Hello? Anyone here?”

  After a few minutes, a man came out from an office at the back. “Do I know you?”

  “Um, well, maybe. I’m William Knight’s daughter.”

  “Who?”

  “William Knight, you defended him in his murder trial.”

  “Oh, yeah. What do you want?” It wasn’t a gruff statement, just an uninterested one.

  “Well, I wanted to know more about my father’s trial.”

  “What about it?” He had yet to offer them a seat, so they all stood uncomfortably in the open space in front of what had to be his office.

  “For starters, do you know why he chose you to defend him?”

  “No.” He stood with his arms crossed, clearly not planning to elaborate.

  “Didn’t he say something when he first set up the appointment? Anything to tell you why he chose you?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Do you have any notes from that first meeting, perchance then?”

  “If I do, that would be privileged information.”

  “I see. Well, would you care to –”

  “No,” he said, cutting her off before she had a chance to finish, “I wouldn’t care to anything. Now, there’s such a thing as attorney-client privilege. I don’t care to break that.”

  “Yeah, you don’t seem to care much about anything, do you?” Madelyn said, tired of keeping her mouth shut. “Why didn’t you mount a better defense for my grandpa? We read the transcript. You didn’t seem to be on his side.”

  He shifted uncomfortably for the first time. “You know, he didn’t help much in his own defense.”

  “So what! That’s your job!” Madelyn said.

  “And who are you, little girl, to be questioning me?”

  “That’s my daughter,” Mom piped up, “and I suggest you take a different tone.”

  “Fine. You try to mount a defense when two eyewitnesses tell the exact same story. They were ironclad. All I could hope to do was keep your father alive. I succeeded.” He had regained his composure and taken complete control of the situation.

  The problem was, neither Mom nor Madelyn could argue with his logic. Defeated, they fell silent.

  “Now, if you don’t have any further questions …” They shook their heads. “Good. Then I’ll be getting back to work.” As he turned back to his office, he threw parting words over his shoulder. “Have a nice day,” as if they could.

  Wednesday

  “So, what do we actually know?” Aunt Dory said the next morning. Zane and Delia had joined them for a conference to help decide what they should do now. They were all gathered around the kitchen table. On the edge of it, Aunt Dory was balancing a dusty chalkboard she’d retrieved from her garage.

  “Well, Grandpa said he was celebrating something the night Mr. Holliwell was killed, but we’re not sure what.”

  “Right. It included Pop and George and maybe the lawyer, Ross Musil,” Mom said.

  “And was it really about his wife’s will?” Aunt Dory said. On the chalkboard, she wrote with squeaky chalk:

  CELEBRATION

  – William, George, Lawyer?

  – Wife’s will?

  “Well, and there’s the mysterious item that he wanted help taking care of,” Zane offered. “That must be what he showed Mr. Holliwell.”

  To the chalkboard, Aunt Dory added:

  VALUABLE ITEM

  – Wanted Rachel’s help with it

  – Showed to George

  Daniel piped up with, “That must be what someone was looking for when they broke into Grandpa’s house and then our house.”

  “You’re right,” said Aunt Dory, as she added:

  – Men searching for it at both houses

  As everyone studied the board, trying to make sense of it, Aunt Dory propped it up against the wall. “Would anyone like something to eat?” Without waiting for a reply, she started cutting up some apples. She set down a bowl of apple slices on the table for everyone then moved to wash her knife.

  Mom had been watching her movements. She spoke so quietly, it took a moment for the others to register she had spoken.

  “What did you say, Mom?”

  She turned at Madelyn’s voice. Her face was pale but etched with hope. “He’s innocent. I know all the things that have been said, but for the first time, I believe he didn’t do it.”

  “Why?” Aunt Dory said.

  “The knife. Dory, I saw you with the knife. Daniel wondered before about that, about how he could possibly wield a knife when he was so drunk. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Everything was there, but I didn’t understand it. But it all fits now.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “There was never a motive. Why would he kill his friend? But if there was something valuable at stake … then someone else would have a good reason to commit murder.”

  Everyone in the room started to nod, even Jillian understood what her mother was talking about, except for one thing. “But why wouldn’t whoever wanted it, kill Grandpa? Why did his friend get killed instead?

  “I don’t know.”

  “If that’s true, that means people are lying. What about the two witnesses?” Delia said.

  They all sat contemplating that for a moment. Then a big smile spread across Aunt Dory’s face. “Madelyn, tell me about the break-in at your house. What did the intruders say? Who came into your dad’s office first? That kind of thing.”

  That seemed a strange thing to ask at that moment. “Don’t you already know all about it?”

  “Yes. But I’d like you to tell me again—not everything, just some of the details.”

  “Okay. Well, I remember them saying they’d planted a bug and heard what I’d said that morning on the phone with Zane. I think they both came into Dad’s office at the same time, just as we slipped out the window.”

  “Is that the way you remember it, Rachel?”

  “Basically.”

  “No, I mean specifically. What do you remember?”

  “I don’t think they said anything about overhearing a phone conversation. They did mention a bug being planted. We overheard them talking, but they were out in the hallway when we made it out the window. Then one of them came into Roger’s office and called the other one to come join him.”

  “That’s not right,” Madelyn started to argue.

  Aunt Dory waved them both aside. “Don’t worry about it. That doesn’t matter. You just illustrated exactly what I thought.” Everyone stared at her, lost and confused. “I knew something was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. You see, people’s memories aren’t exact. You were both there, and you remember it differently. I think that would be especially true in a stressful situation … like when you witness a murder.”

  They quietly contemplated what that could mean. “Wha
t are you talking about?” Daniel asked, still confused by the situation.

  “You probably don’t remember this from the transcript, but I do because I read the witness testimonies. The two witnesses at your Grandpa’s trial told the exact same story. They were identical. Every detail—the order of things, what was said, who did what—those were all exactly the same. It’s almost as if they memorized the same script.”

  Mom nodded then walked over to the phone. After dialing, she said, “Is Mr. Musil available? I need to speak to him.” After a moment’s pause, she said, “Hello, Ross Musil? … This is Rachel Osborne, William Knight’s daughter, again. I just have a quick question. I know you’re not a trial attorney, but with witnesses, would it be likely that they would tell the exact same story as each other.” She was nodding. “Thanks, that’s what we thought. … Yes, that’s right. The two witnesses that put my father away gave identical testimonies about what happened.”

  She turned the phone, and they all heard his excited voice. “You mean he might be innocent? I couldn’t bring myself to attend his trial. It was too hard to stomach what I thought my friend must have done. Generally, when prosecutors say they have a solid case, they’re right—the accused is guilty. But, oh my …”

  “Yes, I have to admit a little guilt in that department too,” Mom reassured him. “Thanks, again. I imagine I’ll be in touch later.”

  “It’s all starting to make sense, isn’t it?” Madelyn said.

  “I think so,” Mom said. The problem was, despite things coming together, no one was sure what to do with what they thought they knew.

  “Well,” Delia said, “Zane and I can talk to our dad again. I’d like to find out more about that defense attorney. From everything I’ve heard so far, I don’t trust him. I doubt our dad knows him personally, but he probably knows someone who does. We can come back tomorrow. Hopefully, we can tell you something by then.” It was the best idea anyone had, and when no one offered anything else, Zane and Delia made their excuses, leaving the others to stew in their juices.

  . . .

  Lunch was carried off with a minimum of talking, even their chewing was done with mouths closed, making it quieter than normal. Daniel finished first then took to staring at the chalkboard they’d written on that morning. “Boy, whatever Grandpa had must have been pretty valuable to kill somebody over it,” he said. “What do you think it might be worth, whatever it is?”

  Mom visibly startled. “What did you say?”

  Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “I just asked what it might be worth.”

  Mom’s eyes were wide. “Do you kids remember having Grandpa over for dinner often after Grandma died?” They nodded their heads. “Well, one time he asked Roger, your dad, for help finding out what something might be worth.”

  “Do you think he showed it to Dad?” Madelyn was alarmed. “Is Dad in danger now?”

  “No, no, it’s not that. Pop was seeking advice. I remember now that he wanted to know the name of an appraiser, but he wouldn’t say what it was he wanted the appraiser to examine. Roger told him that made it kind of tough to point him in the right direction, but he gave him the name of someone anyway. He assumed Pop had something old of my mother’s that he wanted to put a value on, that was all.” Mom’s brow was knit while she was pulling the rest of the memory out of the recesses of her mind.

  “Pop said he’d explain later. I was curious, but I must have forgotten about it once he was arrested for murder.”

  “That certainly would overshadow something as trivial as an appraiser,” Aunt Dory said. “Do you think Roger would remember who he sent your father to?”

  “I would think so. As I recall, he only gave Pop one name, so I’m guessing that would be the same appraiser he would recommend today as well. I’ll call him tonight after he’s done with training. I’ll see what he can tell us.”

  . . .

  “Hi, Roger,” Mom said when he answered the phone. “I know this is unusual, calling you in the middle of the week, but I had a question for you. Do you remember giving Pop the name of an appraiser for something? … You do? Do you remember his name? I’m just trying to tie up a loose end for Pop, nothing to worry about.” She motioned for a piece of paper then wrote down: Howard Cramer.

  “Thanks. Did he ever tell you why he wanted the name of an appraiser? … Me neither. Oh, and I wanted to tell you how my reading’s going.”

  Madelyn and Aunt Dory smiled at Mom’s deft change of topics. They corralled the others out of the room to let Mom share more about her newfound reading with Dad.

  . . .

  It wasn’t until Madelyn climbed into her side of the sofa bed that night that she realized a phone call had occurred with Dad without her talking to him too. For all her angst and anger when he left, life had managed to go on. She’d survived without him—even found new ways to thrive, new ways to be involved and help. If she was honest with herself, she hadn’t had time to miss him lately. It’s not that she wouldn’t be glad when he finally returned, it’s just that she didn’t think about it all the time. Sometimes, she even forgot he was gone, forgot about the things that tied her to him, like neglecting to read Hobbit chapters until the last second or even trying to corral those pesky dandelions. With everything that had been happening, both of those things had fallen by the wayside.

  He must be coming home soon, but she’d lost all track of time. Lately, she was lucky to keep track of what day of the week it was, the actual date was another matter entirely. She climbed back out of bed to find the calendar in Aunt Dory’s kitchen. It was the 6th of August. That meant it was week nine of Dad being gone. One more full week after this one and Dad would be home. It was hard to imagine.

  Madelyn climbed back into bed, thinking of the upcoming reunion. It made her smile. But those thoughts were soon eclipsed by other concerns—ones about the dangers swirling ever closer. They’d need to move back into their house before Dad returned, but that idea made her shiver. She didn’t feel safe there yet. “Please,” she prayed, “help us figure out what’s going on before it’s too late.”

  Thursday

  By mid-morning on Thursday, they’d set up an appointment to meet with the appraiser for 2:30 that afternoon, and Zane had called saying his father was asking around. They agreed to all meet up at Aunt Dory’s in the late afternoon.

  Despite their great desire to get to the bottom of the mysteries surrounding Grandpa, mundane things needed to be taken care of. Everyone gathered clothes and bedding to go into the wash, and Jillian pointed out they needed to go grocery shopping.

  “Could we get some more cereal, please?”

  “Sure, Jilly. Let’s put together a list. Madelyn, would you write it down for me?” Madelyn raised her eyebrows at Mom. “Yes, I could probably start writing it myself, but, if you haven’t noticed, we’re all a little stressed right now.”

  “That’s fair enough. What do we need?”

  With Aunt Dory and Jillian’s help, Mom began to dictate a list that included milk, toilet paper, apples and everything in between.

  “Would you mind stopping at the drugstore?” Aunt Dory said, “I could use some office supplies—some paper, paper clips, and even some staples.”

  “Sure,” Mom said while Madelyn added those things to her list.

  “What are paper dips?” Jillian said. She was peering over Madelyn’s shoulder and pointing to one of the last items.

  “Silly, that’s paper clips, can’t you tell?” Then Madelyn caught herself. Of course she couldn’t tell. Her writing had gotten sloppier and sloppier as her list went on. The “cl” in “clips” had run together. It looked just like a “d.”

  “Mom, your note!”

  “What? What about my
note?” Mom said, clearly lost.

  “The last word of the note you saw. It didn’t start with d. It was probably just a sloppy cl. How about the word close?”

  “You’re right,” Mom said, “it could be that. Like keep me close.”

  “Or keep him close,” Daniel said from the doorway. “They were deciding where to put him in prison about then, weren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that would make sense then.”

  “But what does it mean? Why would they want that?” Mom said.

  “Mom, did you ask his lawyer to make sure he was in a prison close by? You know, so it would be easier to visit him?” Madelyn said.

  “No. I never even thought about it, and his lawyer certainly never suggested anything along those lines.”

  “So why would anyone care if he was close by or not?” Once again, Daniel was voicing the question they all had.

  “I don’t know.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Aunt Dory spoke up. “Rachel, I know your father wouldn’t tell you anything before, but he’s the one person who knows what’s going on, or at least what the fuss is about. Do you think maybe you should try again?”

  “I suppose so. But how can I change his mind?”

  “You could tell him all the things we’ve learned so far,” Daniel said.

  “Maybe if you told him you think he’s innocent, that might convince him to cooperate,” Madelyn added.

  Mom was nodding. “Sounds good, and I think I might have another ace up my sleeve.” Then without explaining what it was, she made another phone call.

  “Mr. Musil, please?”

  “His lawyer again?” Madelyn whispered.