Bill’s eyes filled with tears. “Rachel may not have gotten to watch her son grow up or gotten to grow old with the love of her life, but she got her fairy tale. She always wanted to get married and have her own baby. I’m thankful that she got to fulfill that dream before she died. That’s all that I have to console myself when I get to feeling bad about her dying so young. At least she got to experience being a wife and mother before she left this earth.”
Doris reached over to her husband and quietly placed her hand on Bill’s. “Sweetie, give her your blessing,” she said quietly. “Let her help Rachel. We both need to fulfill our dream of bringing this all to an end. She wants to help.”
Bill wiped his eyes with his thumb and smiled across the table at Evanee. “Alright. You can have my blessing, Ms. Woods. We’ll help you in whatever way we can. What do you want to know?”
16
After leaving Bill and Doris Church’s home armed with little new information, Whitley and Evanee decided to pay Priscilla Pankhurst another visit before heading to the site of the fire. This time when they arrived, Priscilla wasn’t on her front porch, but instead the lights were on inside her little log home.
“Evanee! So good to see you. Did you come to read some more of those articles I collected?” asked Priscilla, a wide smile on her face.
“Not yet, Priscilla. I wanted to stop by because we were just…” Evanee shot an uncomfortable glance over at Whitley. “I mean I was just over at Bill and Doris Church’s house speaking with them about the case, and they mentioned something that I found interesting. I thought maybe you could shed some light on it for me.”
Priscilla stepped out onto the front porch. There were gray clouds overhead and a bit of a wind had kicked up. Priscilla gestured towards one of her rockers while she took a seat on another. “Have a seat and ask away.”
Taking a seat, Evanee continued. “Well, I mentioned to Bill and Doris that I had Rachel’s dress, the one that she was going to wear to the Renaissance Festival. But Doris was surprised to hear that because she’d assumed it had burned in the fire.”
Priscilla nodded. “You know, I was a little surprised to see that the dress had escaped the fire too.”
“Well, why didn’t you mention that to us when we were here the other day?”
Priscilla lifted her eyebrows and plumped out her bottom lip. “Ohhh,” she drawled. “Well, when you showed up with it, I guess I just assumed that the dress hadn’t made its way over to Rachel after all.”
“It hadn’t made its way over to her? What does that mean?” asked Evanee.
“Well, Rachel had the day off from her full-time job, so she worked for me that afternoon. It was an extremely busy day. There were many others that had hired me to make their dresses, so we had a lot of people stopping in for final fittings. I actually had a heck of time squeezing all that work in. We probably hemmed six more dresses that day. So by the end of the day, Rachel was just getting ready to take her dress to leave. She was going to run home and get all of her stuff together and then go get ready over at the fire hall, but I reminded her that she hadn’t had her final fitting either. You know? She hadn’t tried it on since we’d made some alterations earlier in the week.”
“Okay?”
“Well, we were lucky that she’d tried it on because over the week, the hem had somehow come loose in the front. Of course, she was in a hurry to get home. She said she had to drop the baby off over at her parents’ and then get over to the fire hall. So I promised I’d get the hem fixed, and I’d bring it over to her.”
“And you never brought it to her?”
“Well, I was going to. I finished up the hem, and I was just about out the door when Irma Cromwell stopped by. She’d snagged her dress on the way out the door and half of her bottom was showing! She was in a real panic and asked me to fix it up quick.” Priscilla frowned. “Of course I hadn’t made her dress. She’d ordered it from some fancy-schmancy place in New York City. She claimed they used the best materials, but none of my dresses tore clear across the backside.”
“Who’s Irma Cromwell?” Evanee had never heard that name before.
“Well, you wouldn’t know Irma. She passed away about ten years ago now. Emphysema. But she used to run this town. She was then what Bluebell Adams is today. She was on every board, involved in every committee. Why, she was the one who brought the Renaissance Festival to Stoney Brook in the first place. It was her brainchild.”
Evanee nodded. “So, back to the dress situation. Did you fix her dress for her?”
“Well, I told Irma there was no way I’d be able to fix it for her because I had to run Rachel’s dress into town for her. But she told me if I fixed her tear, she’d have her daughter run Rachel’s dress in.”
“So you agreed to do that?”
Priscilla’s head bobbed. “I did. I thought that was a good compromise. You know, Irma was the one that Rachel worked full-time for during the week.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t know that.”
“Yes. She was Irma’s personal assistant. She did just about anything the woman wanted. She ran errands for her, stopped at the grocery store, did some light cooking and cleaning, put gas in her car and even drove her around from time to time. Whatever Irma wanted help with, Rachel was her girl.”
“Huh,” said Evanee, tapping her finger on her nose. “She must have had some serious money to be able to afford a full-time personal assistant.”
“Oh yes, she was very well off. Her husband passed several years prior to that. His great-grandfather started a ski resort up in the mountains, and then his father took it upon himself to harvest the sap from the thousands of trees on the land. They made a fortune on maple syrup. Left her and the children a bundle. So Irma didn’t want for a thing.”
“I see.”
“Yes, so I’m just going to be honest—when Irma suggested I let her daughter run that dress over to Rachel, I didn’t bat an eye. Irma got what she wanted in this town. No one dared to say no to her. She controlled about every aspect there was to control.”
“And did she get along with Rachel, then?”
“Oh, heavens, yes. She loved Rachel. No question about that. If Irma hadn’t been fond of her, Rachel would’ve been fired. Irma went through several assistants before she finally settled on Rachel. It was hard not to like Rachel. She was such a sweet woman. Kindest person you’d ever meet. I can’t imagine anyone that wouldn’t have gotten along with her. I think that’s why her death came as such a shock to all of us.”
“So you gave the dress to Irma’s daughter?” asked Evanee, trying to keep Priscilla on task.
“I did. I gave the dress to Maddie, and I thought sure as shootin’ that dress had made its way to Rachel, but I guess Maddie must not have gotten it there before the fire. You know, it happened not long after she left the house with the dress.”
“Priscilla, did you ever tell the police any of this?”
“Tell the police? Well, no. Why would I have?”
“Well, because if Maddie had delivered the dress, then she might’ve been the last one to see Rachel alive. Or maybe she saw someone over at the fire hall.”
“I guess I just assumed if Maddie had seen something or known anything that was relevant, she’d have told the police herself.”
Evanee nodded. “That’s true. I suppose I would’ve thought the same thing. What did you say Maddie’s mother’s name was? Irma…?”
“Cromwell,” supplied Priscilla. “They lived in that big house on the hill just north of town.”
“Oh, the Carlson house.”
“Yes. Maddie Carlson. She married Doc Carlson.”
“Oh, Irma Cromwell’s daughter is Doc Carlson’s wife?”
Priscilla nodded.
Evanee grinned. She’d been in to see Doc Carlson when she’d twisted her knee her first winter in Stoney Brook. She’d slipped on a patch of black ice and wound up with a swollen knee almost that entire winter. He’d done an MRI, but they hadn’t found any
thing requiring surgery.
“Does she work anywhere? Maddie?”
Priscilla had to think about it for a moment. “She went off to school somewhere. One of those high-priced fancy-schmancy schools that people go to for the name. Yale or Harvard or one of them. But I don’t know if she ever used her degree for anything. Can’t say I ever saw that woman work a day in her life.”
Evanee nodded. “Well, I might need to go over to her place and see if I can’t find out how that dress ended up in a secondhand store instead of with Rachel or her family.”
“Yes, now you’ve got me curious,” said Priscilla. “You’ll let me know when you find out?”
Evanee stood. “Yes, I’ll be sure to let you know, Priscilla. And I might be back to read over those news articles you kept. I’m sure there will be some interesting information in there. You know, Rachel’s parents gave me their blessing to investigate their daughter’s murder.”
Priscilla’s eyes widened. “Did they?”
Evanee nodded. “Yes. So I’m going to do my best to get to the bottom of it, if it takes me the rest of my life to do it.”
“That’s quite the undertaking, but awful kind of you, Evanee. I know they won’t rest till they find her killer too.” She grabbed hold of either side of her rocking chair and pulled herself up into a standing position, where she stood precariously like she might fall back down at any second. “I’m here if you have any more questions or need any more help with the case.”
“Thank you, Priscilla. I really appreciate that. But do me a favor?”
“Yes, dear. Anything.”
“Keep the fact that I’m investigating to yourself? I’d hate for someone to find out that didn’t need to. You know?”
Priscilla nodded. “I do know. You be careful, young lady. Alright?”
Evanee grinned. “Oh, I will be.”
17
“This place is totally creeping me out,” said Esmerelda, stopping to sniff an overturned rusted metal chair buried beneath a mound of dried grass and weeds.
“Yeah, Evanee, do you really think this is such a good idea?” Whitley’s eyes swung around the overgrown lot with unease. In the thirty-five years since the fire, the trees and shrubs around the remains of the crumbled brick building had grown wild, providing quite the spooky backdrop.
Evanee stopped walking and hugged Prim closer to her chest. She wasn’t exactly feeling confident about what they were doing either, but it was completely apparent that she was supposed to be the brave one of the group. She lifted her chin slightly and stiffened her spine. “Yes, of course I think this is a good idea, or else we wouldn’t be here. Why?”
Whitley furrowed her brow as she skittishly looked up at the ominous sky. “I don’t know. It’s getting dark, and it looks like it might rain.”
“But we need to scout for clues.” Evanee’s eyes swung up towards the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in and a cool wind had whipped up around her. She pulled Prim into her sweater and wrapped the sides of her cardigan around her tightly. They’d keep one another warm. She stepped through the tall weeds and then came to a stop just in front of the burned-down fire hall. The building had been made out of brick, so most of the front wall still stood, but the doors and windows had all been burned out, leaving a coating of black soot around the perimeter of the open holes.
Esmerelda hopped up on one of the hollowed-out window frames. “You guys are nuts if you think we’re actually going to find any clues out here thirty-five years after the fact.”
“Well, we have to try. We don’t have a whole lot to go on,” said Evanee. “Plus what kind of investigators would we be if we didn’t at least visit the scene of the crime?”
Whitley stood next to Evanee. “True. So where do we start?”
Evanee stared intently at the building. She knew nothing about fires and accelerants and how they left different pieces of evidence behind. She just had this feeling that she had to be there. She sidestepped a big concrete block just in front of the front door and went inside. “Maybe Esmerelda is supposed to sniff out a clue.”
“You wanna know what I smell?” the cat asked from inside the building. “I smell dead mice, mice poop, deer poop, maybe even a little bear poop, and I’m pretty sure there’s a dead raccoon around here somewhere. Man, this place reeks.”
Evanee sniffed the air. “You can seriously smell all that? I don’t smell anything.”
“Oh, trust me. I can smell it all,” said Esmerelda.
Prim struggled to get loose, so Evanee set her down on the ground. “Prim wants to help you look.”
As soon as the cat’s feet hit the floor, she took off at a dead sprint towards Esmerelda. Esmerelda’s eyes widened as the orange tabby cat bounded towards her full-speed ahead. “I don’t think Prim’s coming to help me look!” hollered Esmerelda before dashing away at the last second.
Prim followed, chasing Esmerelda around the rubble.
“Prim!” called Evanee, following the pair, “Leave Essy alone! She’s supposed to be working!”
Prim and Esmerelda disappeared around a charred wall. Then the distinct sound of a cat letting out a sharp “rawr!” followed by a “hiss!” sounded out.
Evanee chased after them to find that Prim had caught up to Esmerelda and had pinned her to the ground.
“Get this guy off of me!” hollered Esmerelda. Her face showed her clear unhappiness with her current position.
Evanee tipped her head to the side. “Awww, she’s hugging you, Essy. That’s so sweet! See? I told you she wanted to be friends.”
“I’d hardly called this hugging,” snapped Esmerelda. “This is sexual harassment in the workplace! Get him off me!!”
“Prim!” chastised Evanee, surging forward to swat her off Esmerelda. “How could you? You… you’re a girl cat.” Evanee turned her eyes onto Esmerelda. “Oh, Essy! I’m so sorry about that! I can’t believe my sweet Prim would ever do anything like that.”
“I told you he was a dude.” Esmerelda stood up and lifted her nose into the air. She walked away with her tail held high, swishing it regally from side to side. “They’re all alike. You have no idea how many tomcats this tail attracts. It’s like a magnet for creepers. I’m just thankful I still have my claws.”
Evanee sucked in her breath. “Prim’s not a creeper. She’s sweet. I really don’t know what got into her. She never acts like that!”
Essy licked her paw and then cleaned her whiskers. “What can I say? They just can’t resist me.”
“Oh geez,” sighed Whitley. “Good to see that becoming a cat hasn’t changed you at all, dear sister.”
The girls spent the next half hour poking around inside the charred building, turning things over, and trying to piece together where Rachel might have been getting ready when the fire started. Eventually, though, what little sun had been left disappeared completely, and it became next to impossible to see anything through the dark storm clouds.
“We better get out of here,” said Evanee after hunting down Prim and scooping her up. She wiped the soot and dried grass from her paws and then snuggled the cat back into her sweater and started towards the car. “Come on, girls. It’s getting chilly out here.”
“And scary,” said Whitley. “It’s even scarier when it’s dark.”
The women and cats made their way out of the building and had no sooner maneuvered themselves out the front door than they noticed a shadowy figure standing in the tall grass, staring at them.
Evanee’s breath caught in her throat as she came to a halt.
Whitley crashed into her backside, exhaling an “ooff” sound as she did. “Oh, sorry, Ev.”
With her feet rooted in place, Evanee stared at the man staring back at her. He had his hands buried in the pockets of a work jacket. But she’d recognize those curls sticking out from beneath his baseball cap anywhere.
It was Lane Dawson.
18
“Lane? Is that you?”
The man squinted into the darkness.
“Sure is. Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Evanee Woods.”
“Ms. Woods?” he said in surprise. “What in the world are you doing here?”
Evanee let out a nervous giggle as she looked back at the building she’d just emerged from. “Oh, you know. Sightseeing, I guess.”
“Sightseeing in the building where my mother died?” asked Lane. She could hear the contempt in his voice.
“Well, I’ve never been out here before.”
“And now after a couple of years of being in town, you suddenly feel the need to come check it out?”
“Well, I—I’m sorry… I was just curious about it.”
Lane tipped his head to glare at her sideways. “You sure are a nosy woman, you know that?”
Evanee swallowed hard. She usually didn’t have time to get into other people’s business much, but this was different. She was trying to help. She stiffened her backbone. “I’m sorry, Lane. I didn’t realize there was a law against coming out here.”
“Well, obviously, there isn’t. I just think it’s disrespectful to the memory of my mother.”
“Disrespectful?” Evanee frowned. She was trying to help his mother get justice! She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and fought to keep it together. “Why is it disrespectful for me to be out here and not for you?”
“Obviously because I’m her son, and I have a right!”
“You own this property now?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then, I don’t know how you have a right to tell me what to do or not to do.”
“I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’m just telling you it comes off as disrespectful for you to go tromping around out here when you’re clearly just doing it to be nosy.”
Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2) Page 12