Frozen Identity

by Sharon Mierke

  “Mabel,” Nathan yelled out. “He was going to send someone to kill you?”

  “No, Nathan. Now keep quiet while I talk to Reg.”

  He interrupted again. “How do you know he wasn’t going to have someone kill you? Isn’t that what ‘keeping you quiet’ means?”

  “I heard what he said and he does have a point, Mabel,” Reg said. “Did you ask Junior what he meant?”

  “Well, no, at that point he was trying to rip my wrist from my arm so I didn’t ask too many questions.”

  Nathan was now standing up. “I knew you were hurt. I knew it. I knew it. Why didn’t you say something? Scully was right there, Mabel. Why didn’t you tell him? He asked you if Junior hurt you and you said he didn’t. You lied.” He pointed his finger at me. “You lied to a policeman. If I ever did that, you would be so mad at me.”

  “Mabel, who are you talking to? That computer geek or me?”

  I could tell Reg was getting somewhat annoyed.

  “Nathan,” I said. “Sit back down and let me finish talking to the Sheriff. Please?”

  Nathan sat but not happily. I could hear him muttering something about Jakie killing me, and no one finding out.

  “Okay, Reg, that’s really all there is to say. I’m not sure why I didn’t want to squeal on him. There is just something so pathetic about Jakie. It’s like he’s good but can’t help but be bad. You know what I mean? He’s so stupid he can get into trouble before he knows it and then doesn’t know how to get out of it.”

  “I know what you mean. Well, why don’t we meet at your place tomorrow and do some brainstorming. Better ask our favorite geek to come too. What’s the best time?”

  There was one other person I wanted to talk to before we met.

  “How about eleven?”

  “That’s kind of late, isn’t it?”

  “Reg, it’s Sunday. Everything moves slower on a Sunday. Besides, that will give Nathan some time to check out our mayor.”

  “Fred? Why do you want to bother checking him out?”

  “I don’t know. Mostly out of curiosity. He was out at the shack, you know. If we’re checking everyone else out, why not him?”

  “Don’t forget I did a criminal check on him before we took him on as mayor and he came out clean as a whistle.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of disappointing. I really don’t like the fellow.”

  In between laughs, Reg said, “Sorry about that, Mabel. Next time we elect a mayor, we’ll check with you first to see if you like him.”

  “What’s wrong with a ‘her’?”

  “Her what?”

  “Having a woman for mayor, dummy. Why does everyone think it has to be a man?”

  Sheriff Smee hates playing word games with me.

  “We’ll see you in the morning, Mayor Wickles.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jakie and Emma Fleming were renting a house on the east side of town while they were having a new house built. I'm not sure where the money came from but Flori assured me it was a very modest home and that I shouldn't worry about it. Meanwhile, they were living in a two-bedroom clapboard house that looked ready to collapse in a windstorm. If we had a ‘wrong side of the tracks’ area in Parson’s Cove, this would be it.

  Jakie has always had a hard time keeping a job. Sometimes he can’t get along with his boss. Sometimes he just doesn’t like his job. Other times, he loses his temper and is fired. For the past two years, he’s been working for the town. He cuts the grass in the summer along the boulevards, keeps the walkways clear for the library and the municipal office in the winter, and helps Bob Crackers with some of his jobs like keeping the graveyard looking good.

  Emma was working part time at Main Street Café with Delores. Emma is Jakie’s second wife. He and his first wife had two children. Flori told me that they were staying with their other grandparents now and it was unlikely Jakie and Emma would get them back. Unless, of course, Jakie was exonerated and all charges, dropped. No one even knows where the mother is. Flori told me this without one tear dripping down her cheek. She also said that Emma hadn’t been at work since Jakie was imprisoned and she wondered how Emma and their baby would survive the winter.

  (Of course, I knew that Flori and Jake would never let anyone starve so I wasn’t surprised to learn that Jake had been taking food over and leaving it on the step.)

  Autumn Street is like my street except that the houses are small bungalows and all seem to be in disrepair. It is always the last street in town to get the snow cleared. It looked like the snowplow had made one sweep down the center of the road and that was it. Every house had a mountain of snow piled in front of the driveway. The Flanders’ house looked dark and vacant as I peered at it from the street. Since Emma wasn’t talking to anyone, I was wondering how I could get her to open the door for me. Short of setting the house on fire, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

  Well, I wasn’t getting anything done standing on the road. Besides, it was getting a bit chilly. It was warmer out today and the sun was shining but there was dampness in the air so it didn’t feel as warm as the thermometer claimed it was.

  I climbed over the mountain of snow and trudged my way through the deep snow where I thought the path should be. Several times, I almost landed on my face but was able to right myself again and keep going. The drapes were drawn in the living room and blinds pulled on the front bedroom window.

  I knew they never used the front door but the snow was so deep and I didn’t have the energy to plow my way to the back. Obviously, Jake hadn't been over in a couple of days although I could see dips in the snow where someone had walked. I kicked most of the snow off the front step so I could open the outside storm door and I banged on the front door. Of course, no one answered. I didn’t expect her to. I banged again and yelled, “Emma, it’s Mabel. Open up.”

  Nothing.

  In Parson’s Cove, no one ever uses the front door. It’s amazing how doors can be left unlocked for years because no one ever goes in or out of them. I took a chance. I turned the knob and shoved with all my might. Within three seconds, I was lying in a heap on Emma’s front room floor and she was standing over me with her hand over her mouth, not knowing what to do.

  “Hi Emma,” I said, trying to sit up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Could you give me a hand getting up?”

  Without saying a word, she reached down and took my hand.

  Emma Flanders was not a beautiful woman but there was something about her that made you look twice. I guess 'striking' would be the correct description. With her black hair, dark eyes, and high-cheeked bones, she could easily have been a New York model. She was always slim but now she looked almost haggard. Her hair hung down in strings and obviously hadn't been washed in a while. Her dark eyes stared down at me.

  “Sorry to barge in like that,” I said, hoping she’d catch the humor in it, which she did not. I straightened up and whisked some of the snow off my clothes. “Could I talk to you for a few minutes?”

  “Mabel, I appreciate all that you’re trying to do but I would really like you to leave us alone. This is none of your business.”

  I heard the words but since her eyes never met mine, I wasn’t convinced.

  “If you were someone else, I might agree with you,” I said. “It just so happens that the man sitting in jail is my best friend’s son and so it is my business. You, my dear girl, have a lot of explaining to do.”

  I walked over to the door and slammed it shut. The whole house shuddered. Emma glanced towards the hallway and I realized that the baby was probably asleep and she was hoping the noise wouldn't wake him up.

  Telling someone they have a lot of explaining to do is a tactic I love to use (besides the door-slamming technique, that is). Even an innocent person with no information at all can be taken aback when they are told they have some explaining to do. I was sure that Emma must know something about something. I mean, everyone must have some explaining to do about something, or am I the only one?


  Before she could protest, I pulled my boots off and said, “Let’s sit down and talk, Emma.”

  I looked at her and saw tears forming and what seemed to me to be a look of relief on her face. Without saying anything more, I took her hand and led her to the sofa. I recognized the sofa as one of Flori’s castoffs.

  I kept holding her hand as I talked.

  “Emma, first of all, I want to tell you how sorry I am about all of this.” I waited until her eyes met mine. “I don’t believe that Jakie killed Harry Cooper.”

  If I’d pulled out a gun and stuck it in her face, I don’t think she would have been as shocked as she was when she heard the name, Harry Cooper.

  It took several seconds for her to respond.

  “What do you mean, Mabel? I don't know any Harry Cooper.”

  I smiled. “I never said that you did, Emma.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She tried to stand up but I kept her hand in mine so she sat back down again. It seemed as if her legs gave out.

  “Emma,” I said, “I think it’s time you told me all that you know. Why would you want your husband to rot in prison when he’s an innocent man?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t want him to be in prison. I love my husband, Mabel. I would do anything for him to be free. But what can I do? You say that he is innocent but everyone thinks he’s guilty. There’s nothing I can do. You don’t understand.” She burst into tears.

  I reached into my pocket, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to her.

  When she was finished blowing, I said, “Now, who was Harry Cooper?”

  Without looking up, she said, “I don't know. All I know is that I wish you would leave me alone and never come back again.”

  “Would you like me to get someone to shovel the snow for you?”

  “No, I want you to mind your own business and leave me alone. That’s all I want, Mabel. I have enough on my mind. I don’t need you messing everything up.” She stared at me. “Would you please leave now, Mabel?”

  I nodded. “All right; but Emma, you know you can call Flori any time because she would do anything for you. You know that, don’t you? Flori and Jake love you like you are one of their own.”

  Tears rolled down her cheek. She whispered so softly I could hardly hear her, “You can’t help us. Please go and never come back.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was almost ten-thirty by the time I got home. I had time to call Flori before Sheriff Smee and Nathan arrived. The cats raced outside as soon as I opened the door. Since it was several degrees warmer, I figured they might stay out for as long as ten minutes.

  The red light was blinking on my answering machine. I didn’t recognize the caller’s number so I hit the button to listen. Whoever decided to call must have been undecided because there was only a moment of silence and then nothing. Probably someone from a foreign country telling me my computer was not working properly and he would be more than happy to help. All he needed was my credit card number. Apparently, that was the latest scam and seniors who were not computer savvy were the targets.

  Flori seemed happy to hear my voice. She said that Jake took some cinnamon buns over to Jake Junior. She didn’t say if he ate them or not. I can’t see anyone refusing though. Maybe Jake had the right idea to ply him with his mother's home cooking.

  “Flori,” I asked, after we had gone through the normal ritual of asking how we each were. “Flori, do you know much about Emma before she came to Parson’s Cove? I remember she worked at Main Street Café as soon as she moved here but I don’t recall why she decided to move here.”

  There was a few seconds of silence. “You know, Mabel, if I did know at one time, I don’t remember anymore. Junior didn’t seem to want to talk about it too much so we never asked. We were so involved with his first marriage that this time he told us to mind our own business. Well, we did and we have always been pleased with Emma. I have no idea why she’s turned against us now.”

  “What do you mean by turned against you?”

  “Well, Mabel, I’m sure you’ve heard. The whole town knows she won’t even let us visit her and she won’t answer when we phone. I thought I told you.”

  “I don’t think that means she’s against you. For some reason, she is hiding in that house, Flori. I talked to her this morning and I got the impression that she’s afraid of something…or someone.”

  Flori didn’t say anything for a few seconds and I let my statement sink in.

  “You talked to her? Are you serious? She hasn’t talked to anyone in Parson’s Cove as far as I know. What did she say, Mabel? Why doesn’t she let anyone else in to see her?”

  “Well, she didn’t exactly let me in. I sort of pushed the door open and fell in.”

  “You broke into her house?”

  “I don’t know if I would go as far as saying that. I happened to lean against the front door while turning the knob that someone had foolishly left unlocked. Let’s just put it that way.”

  Flori giggled. “Good for you, Mabel. I wish I could do the things that you do.” Then, I guess she envisioned herself doing it because she burst into laughter again. This time, I had to wait for her to finish. I loved the sound of it.

  “Are you finished, lady?”

  After a few hiccoughs, she said, “Yes, and it felt so good. I shouldn’t be laughing about this, should I? So, seriously, Mabel, what did Emma have to say? Is she doing all right? Jake took food over for her but she never even opened the door. He was worried that maybe she had done something to herself. You know, maybe took some pills or something. But I told him she would never do anything because of the baby. She and Jakie love that baby so much."

  She paused and I was sure the tears would flow. All she did was sigh.

  "I am so glad you saw her, Mabel. Jake will be relieved too. He was going to go and shovel her sidewalk but didn’t know if he should or not. Now, I think he’ll want to. Maybe you’ve made an opening for us.”

  “I hope so. At least, you know she’s okay even if she doesn’t want to talk to anyone. By the way, what was her maiden name? If I knew at one time, I don’t anymore. What’s wrong with our memories anyway, Flori? Is this a sign we’re getting old or are we starting to get dementia?”

  “Oh goodness, Mabel, for sure you don’t have dementia. And, it is not old age either. I read an article on it one day. It’s just that as you get older, your brain siphons out what it thinks isn’t important and you concentrate on the important things. You, obviously, didn’t think you’d need to remember Emma’s maiden name.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. Unfortunately, my brain was wrong. You must know what her name was though.”

  “I’m pretty sure I knew her maiden name but she was married before she met Jakie and I don’t think they told me that name. She took her maiden name back again. If I remember correctly, it was something like Henney.”

  “Henney?”

  “Something like that. I can’t be sure but that’s close.”

  We chatted for a few minutes more and then Reg and Nathan arrived. As soon Reg opened the door, all the cats scrambled inside.

  It seems the weather must have warmed up somewhat as they both had their jackets wide open. Of course, Nathan sometimes leaves his open anyway and perhaps Beth fed Reg a bit too much breakfast and he couldn’t close his even if he tried.

  I don’t know why but when men enter a room, it’s as if they need to fill up all the space. Perhaps, it is because instead of putting their jackets somewhere immediately and sitting, they walk all around the room before throwing down their coats. Then, it appears necessary to pull out two or three chairs before choosing one on which to sit. It is like a male ritual.

  First, Nathan sat with his back to the cupboard but when he opened his laptop, there was glare on the screen so he got up and sat down along the side and Reg sat at the end of the table, facing the cupboards. I am not exactly sure why but he must have felt it necessary to sit across from Nathan so he
moved. This meant picking up all the jackets and moving them to the other chair.

  “Just a minute, Reg,” I said. I grabbed the jackets, marched into the living room, and plopped them on the sofa.

  “You don’t have any coffee, Mabel.”

  “No, Reg, I haven’t had time. I just got off the phone with Flori.”

  He looked at me with a surprised look. “Didn’t you have all morning?”

  I guess Nathan thought I might haul off and hit the sheriff, so he said, “How’s Mrs. Flanders? Is she feeling better?”

  “I think she is. She felt better knowing that I was able to get inside and talk to Emma this morning.”

  They both stared at me.

  “You got in and talked to Emma?” Reg said, as if he didn’t believe me.

  I nodded. “Yes, I did. Flori feels much better now knowing that she’s okay.”

  “All right, Mabel,” Reg said. “What did you do? There’s no way she opened the door and welcomed you in.”

  “No, Sheriff Smee, let’s just say that I sort of fell in.” I walked over to the cupboard and took down three cups. “And that’s why you don’t have a cup of coffee sitting under your nose.” I plunked the cups on the table. “I wasn’t dawdling about this morning. I was working a murder case.”

  Both of them sat silently as I made coffee. I am sure they were looking at each other and either shrugging or raising their eyes heavenward but I didn’t bother to try to catch them at it. I had accomplished something and I was proud of it.

  I poured coffee into the three cups and set the sugar bowl and cream pitcher down in front of them.

  Nathan’s face was slightly pink but he didn’t say a word. It was time he started drinking coffee and he might as well start with the best.

  “If you really want to taste the coffee, Nathan,” I said, “Don’t add sugar. And not too much cream either.”

  Everyone took a sip of coffee. It was obvious that Nathan was not too enthralled but he would get used to it.

  “Okay, Mabel,” Reg said. “Now is it time to share your newfound information with us? I think we’ve waited long enough.” He looked up at the clock. “I told Scully I’d give him the afternoon off.”