Cold Wind to Valhalla (Abby Fouchet Mysteries Book 3)

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Cold Wind to Valhalla (Abby Fouchet Mysteries Book 3) Page 26

by Flo Fitzpatrick


  “We won’t starve and we’ll be warm. I’m fine with it.”

  Shay turned her attention to Julian. “Okay. Before things get too hectic, I want more answers. Especially from Julian who doubtless knows more than I do since I was out of town far too long.”

  I groaned. “Ah. The ever-tactful Shay. Don’t you have enough info about" —I glanced at Ellie— “uh, all this?”

  “No.” She turned to Julian. “How did you meet Colette?”

  He was a bit stunned by Shay’s blunt approach but was willing, perhaps even grateful, to get the chance to tell us about their relationship. “My other job. I’d done a legacy memoir for one of Mrs. Currie’s friends and she asked if I’d do one for her. I met Colette the second time I went to the Currie apartment although she wasn’t living with her mom at that time. She had a place in the Village."

  “And?” Shay urged.

  “And we fell in love on the spot.” He lowered his volume even though the Hayward kids were much more interested in the plate of deviled eggs and spicy wings that had been plopped in front of them. “Sheri and I were separated but she was determined to get back together. Why is a mystery. She didn’t love me. I didn’t love her. I’m not sure she even loved the boys but she was throwing them at me as a way to stop any divorce. Custody battle because I didn’t earn enough money. The only thing that makes sense is if her desire to control everyone and the fact that if anyone was going to leave, she'd be the one to do it. Like I say. Control. Anyway, Colette and I had about ten months together before Sheri made it quite clear I needed to move back in or she and the boys would be on the next plane to California. I moved back in. I had no idea Colette was already, uh . . . “

  He motioned toward his daughter who was carefully picking off jalapenos from the top of the deviled eggs. Ellie looked up at me and stated quite solemnly, “I like these hot pepper things, but I’ve already drunk three glasses of water and I don’t want to have to leave my chair every five minutes while the movie is on so I do believe I shall switch to something sweet in a moment. Perhaps the banana pudding would be a good choice."

  I bit my lip nodded and stated without a trace or quiver of humor, “Very wise of you.”

  She grinned. “It's okay. Go on, Daddy. I won’t listen.”

  I did laugh then. So did Julian. “I give up. She knows all this anyway. She doesn't understand the biology and hopefully won't for about six years or more but she does know I'm her 'real' daddy."

  Shay quickly asked, “So how did it happen you moved into Colette’s building and told everyone Ellie was your niece?”

  “Happen is the operative word. About four months ago several things happened almost simultaneously. First, you need to know that Colette’s mother had been taking care of Ellie ever since she was born. They’d agreed Colette would be her ‘aunt’ and would live there when she was in town. Colette was on tour a lot so it seemed like a good arrangement. Mrs. Currie adored Ellie and Ellie adored her. Four months ago, Mrs. Currie died. I still scan obituaries all the time because I still do legacies for people and it’s amazing what you can pick up from obits written by family members. Anyway, I ended up going to Mrs. Currie’s funeral and Colette and I met again.” He paused and swallowed. “It was like we’d never been apart. She told me about Ellie and that she wanted to have me in Ellie’s life as her father if we could figure out a way. Colette had already planned to move back into her family’s apartment and as it turned out, there was a vacant apartment on the first floor. Three-bedroom in need of renovations. The landlord agreed to cut the rent in exchange for me doing those renovations and we moved in. We decided Ellie should be around her half-brothers and we came up with the story of a cousin who’d died and named me as Ellie’s legal guardian. Which, by the way, Colette had already done. It was a huge mistake. If Colette had simply continued to keep Ellie as her own, I’m not sure Sheri would have realized the truth.”

  I quietly stated, “Don’t beat yourself up. I’m sure simply seeing Ellie around you and Colette made it plain about the feelings involved. And let’s face it, while Ellie bears a very strong resemblance to Colette, there’s definitely some Hayward in those features. Sheri’s not dumb. She’d’ve seen it soon even if Ellie had been living with Colette.”

  “How did she find out?” Shay interrupted.

  “I asked Sheri that this week.” He paused and shook his head. “Weird, visiting the jail to see the woman you married who killed the woman you loved. Anyway, after meeting Colette, Sheri was suspicious but not completely sure that Ellie and Colette were related. It was the scrapbook. Ellie saw it at Colette’s and Colette let her take it back home. Sheri saw it. Colette hadn’t torn the pages out at that point. That did it for Sheri. Then Colette got the scrapbook back and hid those pages. Sheri bided her time for about a week and for some reason decided to use the Cameo Theatre to shoot her.”

  “Which she did so expertly the cops though it was accidental. She’s one helluva shot."

  “Remember I said we were Olympic athletes? That was her sport. She was on the USA shooting team. I was a high hurdler.”

  “Hang on a sec.” I waved at Johnny, who’d come back inside with Aura Lee. There was silence for a moment while all of us tried not to stare too openly at the chubby medium's outfit, which was nothing more or less short of a Brownie. As in scout; not the woodland creature.

  “My favorite Brownie scout!” I couldn't help but blurt out.

  “Mah fave-oh-orite Johnny girl!”

  “There’s more than one?” Shay asked, smirking.

  “No! Ah didn’t mean it lach that!” Aura Lee looked extremely upset at the thought of a parade of broads and babes taking the place of Abby. The woman does have a gift for divining paranormal truths but she also can confuse the life out of what she's trying to say at any given time.

  Johnny and his family joined us. “Ms. Lee, if you ever want to treat us all to another séance, you might consider choosing adjectives like favorite with a bit more clarity.”

  Aura Lee giggled. “Who says I'm even gonna do another séance? I'm kinda tired of it, to tell ya the truth. It takes a lot out of a person. And really, y'all have been havin' so much fun on that soap, I'm considerin' switchin' jobs and becomin' an actress!" She paused and fluttered her lashes "Or the mayor of New York.”

  Gordon snickered, “Is there a difference?”

  Introductions all around. "Julian and Gordon, Aura Lee was, oh let's say instrumental in tossing clues at me that involved a certain magic flute a few months ago."

  She burst in with, "And with helpin' Abby girl get her Ian Anderson songs togethah."

  Julian’s eyes widened. “Someday you must explain that."

  She beamed at him. “There’s lots to tell. But we’ll save it for anothah occasion. I have a question since I missed out on a lot of what was goin' down except for what Euphoria told me when we were enjoyin' ahselves in Na'lins."

  I groaned. “Leave the man alone, Aura Lee. Isn't it enough that we solved the mystery of Colette's murder?"

  “No, no. This one’s for you, dahlin'. Why did Sheri try to shoot you on the cliffs of New Jersey? Did she say?"

  “To scare me. That’s all. She didn’t know what Colette had said to me and since Diamond was already blackmailing her she didn’t want to wake up and have a second person on her tail. So she figured shooting at me would show me she wasn’t to be messed with.” I glanced around the table. “So. Can we start this movie now before we really are snowbound?”

  Shay interrupted. "Wait. I have a question too. Who put the book in the old Harmony Studios? And why?”

  I shook my head. “Daniel Asher put it there to hide it from his wife, Irene. Why there instead of somewhere else, I do not know and probably never will unless Aura Lee or Madam Euphoria wants to try and contact him via a crystal ball or Ouija Board. Now, enough! I’m ready to watch this movie.”

  Gordon stood up. “One small thing before you have whoever’s rolling the film start rolling.” He lift
ed the tablecloth. “Ellie? I have a gift for you.”

  Ellie looked up from her banana pudding. “Gift? For me?"

  Gordon presented an envelope to Ellie and whispered to me, “We don’t need it for evidence. Sheri Hayward is going with a guilty plea and no trial.”

  Ellie carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the ‘missing’ scrapbook pages. The ones Johnny and I had found in Colette’s vinyl record.

  Ellie stared down with reverence at the photo of her ancestor, Gabrielle Garrity, then with love at the photo of her mother, Collette Currie. She raised the page with the photo of a Charlie Garrity Currie as a child so we could all see it. “She looks like me!”

  She was right.

  A voice suddenly boomed out from the makeshift stage where an old movie screen had been set up. Ivan had grabbed a microphone and was now announcing the start of today’s entertainment.

  “Seats, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the small but very enthusiastic premiere of The January Sun, starring Gabrielle Garrity, also known as Cinnamon, and Mr. Timothy Leyton. Screenplay by Daniel Asher. Discovered in an old trunk in the basement of the apartment building once occupied by the Ashers and the Curries, then stashed for safekeeping by Ms. Colette Currie. Sit back and enjoy.”

  Johnny was sitting next to me. He leaned over and gave me a kiss. "Ya dun good, Ms. Fouchet."

  I kissed him back as enthusiastically as was allowed in public in front of children, whispered, "You too," then hoisted an impatient Ellie Hayward onto my lap.

  Madam Euphoria dimmed the lights.

  As the opening scene of The January Sun began, I couldn’t help musing about how startled moviegoers of 1928 would have been to see the first images. Cinnamon hadn’t worn clown make-up or even ‘pass-for-white makeup’ for this. She was Gabrielle Garrity. Herself. Colette had looked so much like her it was astonishing. And painful.

  Ellie snuggled against me and whispered, “Great-granny Cinnamon looks like my mama.”

  “She does.”

  Ellie continued to stare at the screen but asked, “I'm so glad I found out Auntie Colette was my mommy. I miss her all the time and when I'm at home at night I talk to her before I go to sleep. Maybe I could talk to Granny Cinnamon too? Do you think they can hear me?”

  I hugged her tightly, my throat closing with tears and I whispered back, “They’re both listeners, Ellie. In and out of snow. They will always hear you.”

  END

  BIO:

  Flo Fitzpatrick was born in Washington D.C., then spent the first ten years of her life moving across country and oceans as an Army brat. She has little memory of living in a chateau in Orleans, France (from age eighteen-months to four) but is positive the semi-Gothic setting is what first gave her the desire to write. A performer, teacher and choreographer, Flo holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance from Southern Methodist University and a Masters in Theatre from Baylor. She’s spent much of her adult life shuttling from Texas to New York and back again and loves each state for spawning richly diverse and often extremely wacky characters who spark her writer’s imagination.

 

 

 


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