by Joan Rylen
“Turlington Farms Bed and Breakfast,” Kate said, stabbing her pot roast and then taking a big bite.
Nicole made a face.
“Roo yoo not like meat?” Kate mumbled, ignoring her manners and enjoying her bite.
“Oh no, I’m a carnivore.” Nicole took a sip of her coffee. “It’s Turlington Farms I was surprised by.”
“Why’s that?” Vivian asked, digging her fork into the large slice of cake. “Anyone want a bite before I annihilate it?”
“Mmmm, mmmm,” Kate hummed, indicating she wanted some.
Vivian sliced off a bit and placed it on Wendy’s borrowed coffee saucer. “Hope that’s enough.”
Kate nodded yes and kept on eating.
Vivian looked at Nicole. “So what’s the deal with Turlington Farms?”
“I’m not going to beat around the bush here,” Nicole said and stirred her coffee. She set her spoon down and looked at the three women. “It’s because, despite the notes I’ve read from my grandfather, I think it’s owned by a wife killer.”
22
Vivian didn’t know if it was what Nicole said or the sugar pumping through her veins, compliments of the diner’s giant chocolate cake, that perked her up. “You have notes on the deaths?” she asked, then took a long drink of her cold milk.
“Yes,” Nicole replied. “But that’s not the part of my sentence I thought you’d notice. Do you know what has happened to the women living at Turlington Farms?”
The waitress walked up and reached to refill Wendy’s coffee cup but caught her breath and stopped.
Wendy looked at her and answered Nicole. “We know.” Wendy said to the waitress, who was still frozen in place, “I’d like more coffee, please.”
Nicole tapped on her notebook with her pen. “Then you know that Brandon had one wife drown who was a good swimmer and another disappear into thin air. He made a pretty penny off of it, and he sure didn’t waste any time finding a third.”
The waitress scurried away.
Wendy reached for a creamer and peeled the top off. “We’ve learned a lot about Mary Beth and Rebecca in the last two days.” She glanced at Kate.
Kate used her butter-topped roll to lap up some gravy. “I don’t think it’s him, and I’ll tell you why. I have kind of a sixth sense when it comes to people, and he doesn’t strike me as a killer. Jerk sometimes and hot tempered, but not a squeeze-the-life-out-of-you, stick-you-in-a-hole-to-die murderer.”
“My grandfather wouldn’t have agreed with you,” Nicole said. “I’ve read through some of the notes he had on both cases but certainly haven’t been through all of them.”
“Now might be the time,” Vivian said.
“I dug the boxes out yesterday after the bone popped up. Gramps preferred paper to computers so it’s all in handwritten notes. Let me tell you, there are files on practically every person in this town. But one box in particular was his heavy-hitters list.”
Vivian couldn’t help herself. “Can we see it?”
“I don’t mind if you want to come by the shop and take a look. I need to run back to the festival and get a few more pictures. How about 7:30?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Vivian said, scraping chocolate icing off her plate. “We’ll be there.”
Nicole threw $4 on the table and stood up. “I hope you know what you’re doing staying there.”
Kate gave her a thumbs up, then pushed her empty plate back and pulled the saucer with the lemon chess pie toward her. “We’re good.” Nicole turned and left.
Wendy tapped her fingernails on the tabletop. “That doesn’t make me feel good.”
Kate waved her off with her fork, then took a bite of cake.
The waitress stopped at their table and placed the check face down. She began to turn, but hesitated. After a beat, she sighed. “I hate to admit I was listening, but I heard what you were saying about that dead lady and her husband. Everyone in town thinks he did it. It’s too coincidental. People in Lake Placid don’t just up and die like that or disappear. And he’s had two of them croak.” She turned and sashayed away, then said over her shoulder, “You can pay at the counter.”
Vivian finished her milk, wiped off her mustache, grabbed the check and paid with their trust fund account. Thank you, Thai government. That cake rocked!
Kate and Wendy scooted out of the booth, and they met Vivian at the door.
“Where to?” Wendy asked. “I’ve got a caffeine jolt and energy to burn.”
“I need a wheelbarrow or something to haul me around,” Kate said, leaning on Wendy. “I ate too much.”
“There’s a cute little shop across the street,” Vivian said, adjusting the bags on her arms and adding Kate’s to her load. “I need to get the kids something other than cocoa.”
You Name It was filled with the usual touristy stuff, but most of the items — coffee mugs, necklaces, T-shirts, hats — could be personalized with a name engraved, embroidered or emblazed.
Vivian picked up a tom-tom and gave it a whack. “This is fun! Lauren would like this.”
Kate nodded, then crawled into a yellow and green plastic, pop-up teepee and curled into a ball. “Wake me up when we’re ready to leave.”
The store had lots of stuffed animals, most wearing T-shirts advertising Lake Placid. Mini-moose, bears, horses, skunks, deer, squirrels, you name it, lined the rows, all in neon shirts.
Vivian wandered around the front of the store where a plump woman behind the register was talking to another woman wearing khaki pants, an olive green hoodie and carrying a canvas bag that had trees on it and said “Go Green.” A blonde-haired, chunky baby in a stroller next to her was trying his hardest to grab the display of key chains.
Vivian smiled as she watched him, missing her twins. They’d graduated from the stroller phase, but there were times she wished she could strap ’em down again.
“Maybe this time the cops will get it right and arrest that bastard,” the register lady said.
“Surely this will do it.” Hoodie had a calming voice.
“Screw this waiting,” Register said. “How many people does he have to kill before they put him behind bars?”
Hoodie looked down at her baby and said something, but Vivian couldn’t hear.
The women chatted a bit longer before they said goodbye. Register’s cheeks were flushed and she fanned herself with a Lake Placid brochure.
Vivian picked out seven moose magnets for her co-workers and took them to the counter. The woman continued to fan herself while she rung Vivian up.
“Bad day?” Vivian asked.
“I’m just frustrated with the lack of justice in this town.”
“Who didn’t get justice?”
“My poor sweet cousin, that’s who. Her husband killed her years ago, and he’s still out there, free as a bird, while she’s stuck in a grave. Then he went and married that rich bitch right after Mary Beth died. We all thought there was a chance she’d wise up and leave him.” She leaned in closer. “But I heard they found her body finally, or at least part of it.”
Holy shit! “Yeah, I heard about that,” Vivian said.
“Very convenient, if you ask me, since he’d had her declared legally dead a few years ago.” The fan was going fast and furious. “I heard they even buried an empty casket. Anyway, I’m sorry to be blabbering on. All this news gets me riled up about Mary Beth.”
“I can understand why,” Vivian said.
Wendy walked up with two stuffed moose wearing different-colored T-shirts. “What’s this I hear about Mary Beth?”
The woman stopped fanning. “She was my cousin.”
Wendy plopped the moose down on the counter, their long legs splaying awkwardly. “Oh, we’re staying out at Turlington Farms.”
The woman’s mouth plopped open and she was speechless for a moment, but not for long. Her eyes cut from Vivian to Wendy, and she crossed her arms. “Are you Brandon’s little spies?”
23
Vivian was shocked by the
question posed by the shopkeeper, Mary Beth’s cousin. “Spies? Us?” she said, laughing and pointing to herself and Wendy. “Nah, we’re just staying out at the bed and breakfast. Got a great rate online, actually.”
The shopkeeper uncrossed her arms and began fanning again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. This whole mess is making me crazy.” Her eyes teared up. “It’s just been so long. I feel like Brandon’s connections with the police have kept him out of jail, but I know he’s guilty.”
“What connections?” Wendy asked.
“One of his best friends since high school is a cop. I swear, I think if it weren’t for that they would have worked harder to show he killed her.”
Wendy repositioned the two moose so they were sitting on their bottoms, front legs crossed. “Why do you think he killed her?”
“I don’t know why. I mean, they had been together since high school. It’s not like he got a lot out of the estate, other than Turlington Farms. But then when he married that other woman so soon after Mary Beth died, it started to come together. They claimed they met in an online chat room for mourning spouses.”
“You don’t believe that?” Vivian asked.
“Not for a second. A chat room? Just go to grief counseling at the church or somewhere. Don’t troll the internet looking for a new wife.”
Vivian thought about that. She could see someone reaching out for support through the internet. Maybe Brandon was too embarrassed to get help in town, or if he felt like people thought he killed her, then maybe he didn’t want to go out. On the other hand, going through the internet seemed really impersonal, especially for something so tragic. “How long after Mary Beth died did they get married?”
“I think it was around six months, but she was already in the picture within two. That I know for sure.”
That is awfully quick.
“What’s that sound?” the shopkeeper asked, looking past Vivian.
Vivian turned around. “What sound?” She listened, then she heard it. “I think it’s snoring.” She walked back to the little tent and saw Kate curled up with a big, fluffy stuffed bear. She was sawing logs like a lumberjack in a contest and looked pretty and peaceful doing it. Vivian turned back to Wendy. “Are you finished shopping?”
“Yes, got the moose for Lizzie.”
“How is she?” Vivian asked as they walked to the front.
Wendy’s niece, Lizzie, had battled adrenal cancer since she was 6 months old. Her initial prognosis wasn’t good, but with Dr. Stanislaw Burzynski’s antineoplastons treatment, she was beating the odds by a long shot at 3½ years old.
Wendy beamed. “The last two tumors in her lungs are gone. Only a small bit of scar tissue remains, and Dr. Burzynski is keeping an eye on it. She’s cancer free!”
Vivian gave her a hug. “I’m so happy for your family. Amazing.”
The shopkeeper got busy ringing up their merchandise and both girls paid for their purchases. Vivian picked up her bag of magnets and walked to the tent to wake up Kate. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
Kate snuggled closer to the bear.
Vivian reached down and shook her gently. “Kate, time to go.”
Kate opened her eyes. “I’m buying this bear. He’s a great pillow.”
“That’s good because you drooled on him.” Vivian helped her get up.
Kate swiped his fur. “So I did.” She walked to the counter and paid for her new fuzzy friend.
On their way out, Wendy turned to the shopkeeper. “Sorry about your cousin.”
The shopkeeper nodded. “Thanks, enjoy your visit. Feel free to kick Brandon in the balls for me. Twice.”
Kate was shocked at that last bit. Vivian hustled her out of the store and explained what all had happened while she snoozed.
“Wow. I’m glad I was asleep.”
“It was a little awkward, especially when she asked if Brandon had us spying on her.”
Kate nodded. “I imagine it was.” She moved her bear bag from her left arm to her right. “What time is it? I’m getting hungry.”
Wendy looked at her watch. “Almost 6 o’clock. I could use a beer or a glass of wine. Y’all want to find a restaurant in town and then go to meet Nicole at the paper?”
A steak and seafood place down the street had a nice deck with lake views. Much to Vivian’s delight, the restaurant brewed its own beer. The waitress let them sample the varieties and Vivian decided on the blonde ale. Wendy went for the Hefeweizen while Kate ordered a hot tea.
Vivian looked over the menu. “I should probably have a little something besides chocolate cake for linner.” She ordered a grilled shrimp served with a side of rice, veggies and house salad.
Wendy decided on a cup of clam chowder, as did Kate, who added a small salad as well. The air was almost too brisk, but still they enjoyed some down time and the view while they waited for 7:30 to roll around. Vivian walked to the edge of the deck overlooking the lake and called the kids.
Rick answered on the third ring and rounded them up to talk to her. She spoke to Audrey first, asking if she’d enjoyed the zoo field trip the first grade had taken the day before. Audrey told her all about the animals she had seen, and how she ran into a tree because she was looking down at her shoes while she was walking.
“I got a big bump on my head.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll kiss it when I get home, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy. Bye.”
Audrey passed the phone to Lauren, who said a policeman had visited her kindergarten class. She was excited because he had given her a police badge sticker.
“I stuck it on my wall at Daddy’s house.”
“I think that sounds like a great place for it,” Vivian responded. “Do you want to be a policewoman when you grow up?”
“No, I want to be on American Idol.”
Vivian smiled. “I bet you will be, Lauren. Just you wait.” She heard some shuffling of the phone.
“Here’re the twins.”
Ben and Olivia sang “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” together. Vivian applauded them, then Rick got on the phone and confirmed what day she was returning.
She walked back to the table as the other girls were paying the bill.
“Time to go see Nicole,” Kate said. “I’m full and happy.”
Back at the fall festival, vendors were loading up, firemen were spraying off the pumpkin remnants, and visitors were leaving. The girls hopped into the rental and followed Google directions to the newspaper office.
Only two cars were parked in the lot. The front door was locked, so Vivian knocked.
Nicole appeared in the front window, waved and unbolted the door. “Welcome to my home away from home.”
They went in and Nicole closed the door behind them. She took them on a quick tour, showing them the two printing presses in the back. Tables covered in newspapers lined the wall; paper, ink and other supplies filled the shelves.
“Is that the paper?” Wendy asked, pointing to two huge rolls that lay against the front wall.
“Yep. Newsprint.”
“That’s practically as big as my car,” Kate said.
“It’s like a giant roll of calculator tape, but a million times bigger!” Vivian said. “I have a sudden urge to jump on top and ride it like those lumberjacks ride a log.”
“I can’t tell you what I thought you were about to say,” Wendy said, relief in her voice.
“Uhm, yeah. Don’t,” Nicole said and shot an “I mean business” look around the room.
“Okay, okay,” Vivian said, but she really wanted to.
“Our print circulation is 3,000 and the weekly edition comes out tomorrow. I update the website every day. In fact, I’m doing that now.”
They walked out of the printing area, through a hallway and another door and into the office space. Nicole pointed to three white boxes sitting on a wooden desk. “Those are my grandpa’s files. The one to the left, from what I can tell, were his main suspects. Brandon’s file is the t
hickest.”
Vivian wasted no time. “Let’s take a look.”
24
Nicole went back to her desk to finish updating the Lake Placid News website, while Vivian, Wendy and Kate tackled the files. Wendy opened the primary suspects box and pulled out a few folders. A cloud of dust followed, and Kate sniffled and coughed. The newspaper offices were quiet with the exception of buzzing coming from an overhead light.
The file on Brandon was at least three inches thick and filled with newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. Vivian tried to read one of the notes but handed it off to Wendy. She worked to decipher it since she had the worst handwriting of them all, therefore making her a good candidate for reading bad handwriting.
“Grandpa wrote down a timeline of events, going all the way back to when Brandon and Mary Beth were dating in high school,” Wendy said, holding it up. “Brandon and Mary Beth started dating their junior year. They got married at age 24, and she died after their third anniversary, so she was 27. He received $100,000 in life insurance, plus a bit more from the school district, since she was a teacher.”
“Well if he did it, it probably wasn’t for the money,” Kate said. “Because that much won’t go too far.”
Wendy continued reading. “Six months after Mary Beth died he married Rebecca. He was 28, she was 42.”
“Got himself a sugar mama,” Vivian said, and she started singing “Money, money, money,” For the Love of Money, by the O’Jays.
“He does mention in here that they met on the internet,” Wendy said. “Rebecca went missing when she was 43, they hadn’t even been married a year. Grandpa made a note that the time to declare her legally dead started on that day and ended three years later.
“Brandon started seeing Tracy a year and a half after she disappeared. He worked at the hardware store and frequented The Rumor Mill Restaurant and Bar when he got off, which is where Tracy worked. The three years passed, he got a chunk of change from Rebecca’s estate and life insurance, and he and Tracy got married. Apparently the wedding was a big to-do at the country club.”