The Fragile Flower

by Kerry J Charles

  Nick made a show of finishing his tea, putting down his mug, and looking at his watch. “Thanks so much for your time, both of you,” he said. He stood and looked down at Isabel. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said. “Thanks for the tea, Dulcie.” He widened his eyes at her as he turned away. She quickly grabbed his mug along with her own and followed him out.

  Nick said nothing but gestured toward his phone. She got the message and nodded. “Thanks again,” Nick then said out loud and left.

  Dulcie returned to the living room. “Isabel, you look exhausted. Would you like to lie down for a while? I need to run to the grocery store, so it will be nice and quiet while I’m gone.”

  Isabel smiled. “It’s always nice and quiet here. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Will you wake me when you come back?”

  “Of course,” Dulcie said. She picked up her purse and her keys. “Lock the door if you like. I have my key.” She opened the door and stepped onto the porch. She heard the door close and the lock click behind her.

  Dulcie forced herself to walk slowly down the street. When she reached the corner she dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. Quickly, she called Nick.

  “So, what do you think?” he said without any formality of a greeting. “That was quite a revelation.”

  “You could say that!” Dulcie replied. “There seems to be a whole lot of ‘back-story’ here. Still, Logan’s death is pretty clean-cut, isn’t it? I mean, he died of a heart attack. What else is there to know?”

  It was a good question, and Nick didn’t have a good answer. “Something just feels wrong,” he finally answered.

  Dulcie was frustrated, and it aggravated her. “Nick, you can’t just drag this along because of a feeling,” she said. “At some point you need to just drop the whole thing and let people get on with their lives.”

  She was right. He knew it. And he knew the hidden message behind what she said, even if she hadn’t intended it. She wanted to get on with her life, without him. He had lost any chance with her.

  “Yes. I will. I’m going to close this case first thing tomorrow morning. They can take Logan’s body back to London or wherever they want to bury him.” He felt as though he had been beaten.

  “I think it’s a good decision,” Dulcie said in a kinder voice.

  “Yes. You’re right. Thanks again, Dulcie. Bye.” She heard the phone click off.

  Dulcie felt terrible, but what could she do? She looked back at her phone, then remembered the photos she had taken of Linda’s notebook. It had been a silly idea to do that. She smiled remembering Kimberly’s description of it: a caper. Dulcie walked slowly along the street, swiping through the images of Linda’s notebook. She could barely see them on the tiny screen. It didn’t matter. It seemed to be ordinary, day-to-day reminders and to-do lists, the stuff of everyday life, important to no one but the person writing it all down. She put the phone in her pocket.

  Dulcie didn’t really need to go to the grocery store. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. She had called in to Rachel and taken the day off. Dulcie tried to convince herself it was to make herself available for Isabel, but if she was honest, she simply needed time to think.

  She walked along the brick sidewalk, letting her thoughts drift. The events of the week had all been so strange. In spite of the sunshine, the gentle ocean breeze, the clouds flitting through an otherwise clear blue sky, Dulcie felt permeated with dread. Once she acknowledged this, anger crept in. Why had they invaded her life? Why had they brought their horrible problems and hatred into her world?

  The worst of it, however, was him. Nick. The one person that she did not want to see again. The one person that she had been trying to push out of her mind. The one person that had broken her trust.

  It was stupid. She had told herself this hundreds of times already. Originally, she had developed a small crush on Nicholas Black, and he might have reciprocated some feelings, but nothing happened. He had not betrayed her. Logically, she kept reminding herself of this. Her heart felt differently.

  Dulcie realized that she was hungry. She saw a coffee shop ahead and decided a bit of indulgence in the form of some decadent pastry was what she needed to pull her out of this funk. She went in and stood at the counter, staring into the glass case for several moments.

  “I’d take the éclair,” a low voice said from behind her. She whirled around. It was Nick. ‘Why, dammit?’ she thought. Her face must have registered her despair, because he put up both hands and said, “Whoa! Just a suggestion!”

  Dulcie sighed, but said nothing.

  Nick stepped up to the cashier. “Could I have two éclairs and two coffees please?”

  “What makes you think that’s what I wanted?” Dulcie finally stammered.

  “What makes you think I ordered for you?” Nick replied.

  Dulcie softened. “All right. I’m sorry. I’m on edge these days.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Nick. He handed both plates to Dulcie and picked up both cups. “Want to sit over there?” he gestured toward a table at the window.

  Dulcie smiled in spite of herself. “You never sit at a table,” she said.

  “Correction. Johnson never sits at a table. And I’m usually with him. Not exactly the most attractive date.” Nick blushed, realizing he’d just suggested that they were on a date. “I mean…”

  “I know what you mean.”

  The sat on the metal chairs and Dulcie bit into her éclair. “I haven’t had one of these in ages. I love them, but I never get them.”

  “Why?” Nick asked.

  Dulcie shook her head. “Too many calories. I’m constantly restraining myself. I’d be the size of this table if I don’t pay attention.”

  “I can’t imagine that. Besides, you have nothing to worry about,” Nick said. He blushed again, cleared his throat, and changed the subject. “I’ve been talking to Johnson about this whole case. He thinks I should close it, too. I keep having this nagging feeling that I’m missing something, but he says that sometimes, they really are open and shut.”

  “I have to say I’m inclined to agree with him,” Dulcie said. “I know what you’re feeling, though. Earlier, I could have sworn that Linda was up to something. Kimberly and I even hatched a plan to steal the notebook that she’s always writing in. We actually pulled it off. Kimberly called it a caper.” Dulcie laughed.

  “Do I want to hear this? I’m not sure you should be telling me that you stole something.”

  “It’s okay,” Dulcie said. “We brought it right back, literally within minutes. Of course, I took pictures of all of the pages first.”

  Nick had just taken a drink of coffee and was about to put down the cup. His hand froze in midair. He swallowed hard. “Say that again?”

  Dulcie glanced at him curiously. “We knew that Linda would notice that the notebook was missing right away, and she did. While Kimberly was driving, I kept flipping through the pages and taking pictures. Linda called me while we were still in the car, so we turned right around and brought it back.” Dulcie reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She brought up the images of the notebook on the screen. “But I managed to photograph every page. They’re right here,” she said.

  Nick realized that his coffee cup was still hovering above the table. He put it down gently. His mind was racing. He tried to make it stop. Logan Dumbarton’s death was an open and shut case. True, it had some odd angles, but the death itself was simple. Why then, couldn’t he let it go?

  “Dulcie, I know this is asking a lot, but could you look through all of those images and read what she wrote?”

  Dulcie was confused. “Why? I’d be happy to, but why would you want that at this point? I thought the case was closed?”

  “It is, nearly. I just want to put every last doubt to rest. And this is one last doubt.”

  “All right, I’ll look through things tonight. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I’ll look, nonetheless,” Du
lcie said.

  “Just look for things that strike you as anomalies. You knew these three people better than anyone else here, even if it was for a short time. See if something jumps out at you.”

  “Yes, I’ll do it. But if nothing does, will the case still be closed? Can we move on?”

  There it was again. The words: move on.

  ‘Fine,’ Nick thought. ‘Message received.’ “Yes,” he said aloud. “We can move on.”

  Dulcie nodded but he noticed she did not smile. She finished her éclair, quietly thanked him, and left.

  #

  At seven o’clock that evening, Dulcie sat at her computer while eating chicken fried rice straight from the carton. Isabel had already retreated to the guest room with tea, toast, and a book. Dulcie had ordered several extra items with her Chinese delivery even after Isabel had demurred, but she still wanted nothing more than her tea and toast. Dulcie eyed the half-eaten carton, thinking ‘that’s why she’s about fifteen pounds lighter.’ Then she shrugged her shoulders and reached for an egg roll.

  She had downloaded the images from her phone to her laptop. Now she read through them, one after another. Nothing seemed to be unusual, although she had not reached anything that concerned their trip to Portland.

  Dulcie had just taken a large bite of egg roll when she heard a knock on the door. ‘Who on earth…?’ she thought. She peeked through the crack in the curtain. Linda stood there. When she saw Dulcie look outside, she stooped down and glared back at her. ‘Guess I can’t pretend I’m not home,’ Dulcie thought with annoyance. She opened the door.

  “Yes, Linda? I’m surprised to see you at this hour,” Dulcie said. Suddenly she remembered that her laptop was still open. She hoped that Linda couldn’t see it from where she was.

  “I need to talk to Isabel. She isn’t answering her phone,” Linda announced.

  “She’s gone to bed already. I’d rather not disturb her. I’ll speak to her in the morning and let her know you were here,” Dulcie said, standing firmly in the doorway.

  “I need to talk to her now. It’s important,” Linda protested.

  Linda’s manner angered her. She certainly was pushy. Then Dulcie remembered what Isabel had said about Linda hitting her. Dulcie stretched her petite frame as tall as she could. “I will not disturb her now. If you would like me to give her a message, I can certainly make sure that she receives it.”

  Linda’s eyes bulged angrily. “Tell her to call me,” she blurted out.

  Dulcie shook her head. “Nope. Sorry, but it will have to be more specific than that.”

  Now Linda looked furious. Her face grew red. For a brief moment, Dulcie wondered if Linda would hit her the way she had Isabel.

  At last she managed to say, “It concerns the body of my brother who, if you will recall, recently died. I would think that you could show a bit more consideration given that fact. The coroner is releasing him, and I would like to have him cremated. I’ve scheduled it for the day after tomorrow. As his wife, I need Isabel to sign off on the transfer.”

  Dulcie was surprised. She did not have experience with the matter, but she had always assumed that if nothing was written in a will, it was the spouse’s decision as to what happened to the body. At the moment, however, she thought it best not to challenge Linda. “I’ll give Isabel the message,” she said. “Have a good evening.” Dulcie closed the door firmly and pulled the curtain tightly across. She didn’t move until she heard Linda walking down the front steps.

  “Is she gone?” Dulcie heard the voice from the darkness at the top of the stairs.

  “Yes, Isabel. She’s gone.”

  “Thanks for not letting her in.” Isabel wrapped her robe tightly around her and sat down on the top step. “I don’t think I ever want to see her again.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you,” Dulcie replied. “Did you hear what she said?”

  “Yes, and I must say that I’m confused. I thought that it was the spouse who made the determination. I don’t think Logan would have wanted to be cremated.”

  “Do you think Linda is doing it simply to expedite everything or, and I don’t mean to sound crass, to save money?” Dulcie asked.

  Isabel’s laugh was hollow. “That’s something she would do. But, she probably just wants to move everything along. That’s what she does best.” Isabel sighed. “I don’t know how I got caught up in this mess. I don’t know what I saw in her. She seemed so nice at first, and she just took care of everything. She took care of me.”

  “You’re not the first to be caught in a bad relationship. And you won’t be the last, unfortunately,” Dulcie said.

  Isabel nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes. I do believe you’re correct.” She stood with some difficulty, as though she was too exhausted to hold her own weight. “Goodnight, Dulcie. And thanks again.”

  “Of course. Sleep well,” Dulcie replied.

  She watched Isabel disappear back into the darkness, then returned to her desk. She dug into the fried rice again and flipped to the next page of Linda’s notebook. The date was about three months before the Dumbarton’s arrival in Maine. Dulcie read through the notes, then saw: BOS 14:10 arr, PWM 17:05.

  She knew those codes. They were the airport codes for Boston and Portland. Why did Linda have these codes written down, as though she had scheduled flights before she had even spoken to Dulcie? She jotted down the information on her notepad and continued on. Three days later, Linda had written, Portside Gallery, Congress Street along with a telephone number. “That looks odd, too,” Dulcie murmured. She wrote it down.

  The next several pages contained nothing although Dulcie learned that Linda suffered from nocturnal leg cramps and took some sort of medication for them. There were notes of her conversations with Dulcie, and airline reservations for all three of them. ‘That’s odd as well,’ thought Dulcie. ‘I know she told me that she had expected Logan to be going alone. Clearly she lied about that.’

  Dulcie found nothing else that seemed strange while reading through the rest of the pages. The only other item that she noted was a company name in Portland that she’d never heard of. It looked like a warehouse or storage facility.

  Yawning, Dulcie picked up her Chinese dinner containers and brought them to the kitchen. She filled the electric kettle and flipped on its switch. Tea would be very nice before bed. While she waited for the water to boil, she thought of calling Nick. ‘He said he would close the case tomorrow. I should at least report in,’ she thought. She went back to her desk and checked the time. Nine o’clock. Not too late. She dialed his number.

  “Hey, Dulcie,” he answered quietly.

  ‘Dammit,’ thought Dulcie. ‘Why does he have such a nice voice?’ Aloud she said, “I just wanted to let you know what I found in Linda’s notebook. Not much really. She wrote down The Boston and Portland airport codes, and times next to each. That was about three months ago. No flight numbers, but it looks like she was looking into flights?”

  “Now that’s interesting,” Nick interrupted.

  “Why?” Dulcie asked.

  “Because Bryce Bartlett thought he saw her about three months ago in the gallery where he works.”

  “Would that be Portside Gallery, on Congress?”

  “Is that written down too?” Now Nick was very interested.

  “As a matter of fact, it is,” Dulcie said. “I only noticed a couple of other things. First, it looks as though all three intended to come here from the start. Linda told me that she and Isabel only came at the last minute on Logan’s insistence. That’s why my assistant, Rachel, had to scramble at the last minute to find them a bigger house.”

  “That is strange, but it may not mean anything. What was the other thing?”

  “Nothing really. It looks like the name of some warehouse or storage facility? Holden’s Holdings.”

  “Yup, I know it. It’s a self-storage place.”

  “She just has the name and phone number written down.”

  “Okay. Anything else?�
� Nick asked.

  “Not in her notebook, but she actually showed up on my doorstep earlier this evening. She wanted to see Isabel.”

  “Did she? See her, I mean?”

  “Absolutely not. Isabel had gone to bed early and I wasn’t about to disturb her. I made Linda tell me exactly what she wanted. It seems that the coroner is releasing Logan’s body, and she wants to have him cremated. Right away. She was quite upset because she can’t have it done without Isabel’s consent. I think Linda has handled everything for so long, she can’t face the fact that someone else might have some authority,” Dulcie concluded.

  “I think you’re right. Have you told Isabel?”

  “Yes, she heard Linda but stayed upstairs. She doesn’t like the idea of a cremation. She didn’t think that Logan would have wanted it.”

  “Her opinion is the only one that matters,” Nick said. “So that’s it? Anything else?”

  “I’m sorry to say that I have nothing else.” Dulcie heard Nick sigh.

  “All right. I guess that’s that. I’ll wrap everything up in the morning. Thanks again, Dulcie.”

  “No problem. Goodnight, Nick.” She said.

  The teakettle was boiling rapidly. Dulcie went into the kitchen and went through the ritual of making tea. It involved selecting which kind, deciding which mug she would use, putting in the teabag, pouring the water slowly… the process always calmed her.

  Linda’s sudden appearance that evening had made her nervous. Why hadn’t she simply called? If Isabel wouldn’t answer her phone, why hadn’t Linda called Dulcie? And why did she want to have Logan cremated, regardless of Isabel’s wishes? Maybe the thought of travelling back to London with her brother’s body was difficult for her. Still…

  Dulcie sipped her tea and looked back through the pages of Linda’s notebook. Nothing else seemed to jump out at her. She yawned. The page that mentioned the leg cramps was open in front of her. Dulcie had leg cramps from time to time. Once she even woke up in the middle of the night with one. She wondered what someone would take for them.