by ML Michaels
Yes, it was fear that had stopped her asking the questions that needed to be answered. What if Martin had killed and framed Jake? What if it were all true? But that night Rose came home, tired, drained, and without thinking finally asked a question. A simpler, less accusatory one: "Why were you arguing with Rob Ainsley the day he died?"
Martin was stunned. He'd dreaded that question. It was true, they had argued. And the argument had been a volatile one. If anything, he was surprised no one had asked him about it sooner, but what did surprise him was that the question came from his wife and not the police.
"Baby, what are you thinking, what do you think I did?" Martin's eyes softened. Hurt by what he suspected.
"I'm not saying you did anything, Martin. I'm asking why you argued." Rose said, staring at the man she used to, maybe still did, love.
"Yes, we argued. Look, I took on some extra work, off the books."
"Oh great, hiding more things from me!" Rose raised her voice, months of hurt coming to the fore.
"I haven't kept anything from you. We needed extra money to get us out of the hole I've put us in. So I took some small jobs on, handyman kind of stuff, hoping to scrape enough together to pay off the loan sharks, at least partly."
Rose felt something for a moment. A flutter. That feeling from long ago that life had smothered out of her. That feeling she used to have for Martin, the committed husband, the man before the gambling.
"What does that have to do with Rob Ainsley," she asked.
"His job was a big one. In fact, it was going to help us out to the tune of $15,000, but he never paid me on time, that was what the argument was about."
"$15,000! What did he ask you to do?" she asked.
"Rob wanted a vault, a room below his old barn, one which would be off the record. He said he wanted somewhere to store valuable documents and trusted me to sort that out for him."
"Oh Jesus, Martin."
"What?"
"I need to go. Just, stay here, we'll talk more when I get back," said Rose, rushing out of the door.
She never looked back, and Martin didn't try to stop her.
***
It was late, the sun had set, and as Rose's car turned onto the driveway that headed up to the Ainsley farm, she felt a shiver run up her spine. What did she expect to find? She wasn't sure, but she didn't want the police finding it first. They seemed unreliable, wanting to brush the allegations of Rob Ainsley's unhealthy fascination with children under the rug. Whatever was there, maybe it would shed some light on his murder.
She pulled up outside of the house and got out of her car. It was a big old farmhouse looking out across Hattersfield from the top of a broad hill. Rose could see why Jake had wanted the place so badly. It looked over the town, the town he loved, the town he wanted to call home. It was the only place like it, and that was why he was desperate to have it. He wanted to stare out at his hometown every morning.
Behind the house was a huge red barn. Rose used the flashlight app on her mobile phone to illuminate the way ahead, but the moon and stars were out in full force, and so she could see the barn, large and looming. The doors were lying open. It was clear that the police had searched the place. Bales of hay lay around in haphazard fashion. But it was also clear that they had missed something. They had no reason to believe that there was a room under the barn.
But Rose knew, and after stamping around on the wooden floor, she finally found it. Some loose flooring which quickly came up after a little help from a nearby crowbar that hung from one of the rafters.
The boards revealed a hatch below. Rose pulled it up, and there it was, a flight of stairs leading down into the darkness. Rob was dead, but that didn't stop Rose from feeling nervous about going down there. She never liked the dark, but then again, who does?
Down the steps she went. At the bottom, there was a door that had never been finished. The locking mechanism hadn't been put in, no doubt because Rob refused to pay Martin for the work. As Rose creaked the door open, she hoped to God that Martin wasn't involved in any cover up of what Rob had been doing.
The room inside was dark, lined with shelves; a computer sat on a metal desk. On the shelves there were sealed plastic boxes. Rose opened one of them and looked inside. What she saw disgusted her, pictures of children. The nameless victims of a predatory man. Decades of collecting his foul deeds.
But there was one picture which both horrified and shocked her. She knew the child in the picture. Without thinking, Rose put the picture in her pocket. She felt sick to her stomach and had to leave that disgusting place, a room Rob Ainsley had hoped to use to keep his abhorrent abuse away from the world.
But as Rose ran, she tripped on something on the floor. It was sheer blind luck that she hadn't done so on the way in. She fell face first onto the concrete below, her nose cracking against the floor. Blood poured from the wound.
Dazed and confused from the impact, Rose looked at her foot to see that she had tripped over a wire. She had triggered something. Suddenly the place began to fill with smoke, fire. The room was on fire!
Her head was still spinning from the fall and as she tried to stand up a searing pain ran up her leg. She collapsed to the ground. Her leg was broken. The air filled with thick smoke. Rose coughed and wheezed as it entered her lungs. Her eyes watered, and that was when she knew. She was about to die.
Suddenly two strong arms emerged from the smoke, lifting Rose up and carrying her up the steps and out of the barn. In the starry night as the barn was engulfed in flames, Rose looked up to her rescuer. To a kind face. The face of a man she loved. A man she had never truly stopped loving, even if she had only just realized it.
The face of Martin, her husband.
He held her close in his arms telling her softly that an ambulance was on its way.
"We'll be okay, baby. Won't we?" he said, his voice wavering.
Rose nodded, and then fell unconscious
***
The picture Rose had found held the key to the death of Rob Ainsley. Rose had recognized it immediately. It was the only thing that had survived the fire. The fire which had, incidentally, been set off via a tripwire Rob Ainsley had installed. It was to stop anyone from finding the evidence of his nearly 30 years of abusive and deviant behavior.
The girl in the picture was the daughter of Tommy O'Hanlin, the friend Rob had been drinking with the night he died. When Tommy was confronted by the police, he confessed to everything.
His daughter had been one of Rob's victims. She'd kept that from her father for years. Finally, when it came out, Tommy invited Rob out for a few drinks under the pretense of “catching up.” He then followed Rob home at the end of the night, but not before Jake did the same. Once Jake was thrown out of the Ainsley farm, Tommy went in, confronted his friend and hit him with an old wrench killing him instantly.
Tommy received a suspended sentence. Because of his age and the facts of the case, the presiding judge was lenient. The community understood too, and they rallied round as the police had to come face-to-face with the crimes of Rob Ainsley.
In the end, Jake Beauchamp bought the farm when it went up for auction and built the home he always wanted. Every morning, he looks out over the town, glad to have a place like Hattersfield to call home. Martin and Jake don't exactly see eye to eye, but they act civilly when they see each other in town. It might have something to do with Martin's gambling debts suddenly being paid off by an unnamed third party.
As for Rose, she spent a few nights in hospital before being given the all clear, and Martin never left her side. That night had put things into perspective. For a long time, she and Martin hadn't clicked like they used to, but the bond, the love they had once thrived on, was reforged in the flames of the Ainsley barn. It would be a long bumpy road, but for the first time Rose saw light at the end of the tunnel. She saw that they had a chance to make it. It was only a chance, and she wasn't much of a gambler usually, but she'd take it, and so would he.
It was
a good decision, for both of them...
The End
*****
Crickets and Murders: A Best Friend’s Brother MMA Fighter Cozy Mystery Romance
By ML Michaels
Prologue
The tide flowed in and out, carrying with it the debris of the ocean. Seaweed deposited on the sandy beach, driftwood coming to rest after a long journey of unknown origin. The sky was red, the sun preparing to dip down below the horizon, extinguished by the infinite waters. Gulls cawed above, and as the breeze swept over everything in a warm embrace, Suzie took a deep breath.
She loved it there. Danvers Bay had been her home all her life. She had experienced little else, save for a few holidays up state when she was a kid. No, Suzie had no need to travel or to be anywhere else, this was where she belonged. As a child she had walked along the sandy beach picking up the broken shells, collecting those that had been discarded. How many times had her feet had ruffled through the sand?
Danvers Bay was a place like many others, a seaside town of no more than 2,000 people. Tourists would come and go in the summer, retreating away when winter came. But to Suzie, the town was a one-off. It was special, and looking out to the ocean that night, there was no where she’d have rather been.
Tomorrow was a big day. Chad Hanson was coming back to town, and for Suzie, that brought with it both happiness and sadness. She felt loss, longing, and excitement rolled up together like the tangled strands of seaweed gently caressed by the tide. She’d always cared for him. In high school, Suzie and Chad had developed a bond. That wasn’t a surprise, Chad was the older brother of Suzie’s best friend, Lisa, and so they had spent a lot of time together growing up. There were always stolen looks between them, moments which promised more, but they refrained, and deep down Suzie had always regretted that.
Being two years older, Chad left Danvers Bay when he was 18, off to college and to compete in the big world. No one had ever expected him to become a champion, but he had, and so the town celebrated with each victory. Every punch, every kick, Danvers Bay was cheering from afar.
Suzie herself couldn’t watch, it was too difficult. She’d never been a fan of professional mixed martial arts fighting, but more than that, she didn’t want to see Chad get hurt. Of course, that was unavoidable, he did get hurt each and every time he stepped into the cage. But he’d always had a resilience, and in the end, that strength had made him an MMA champion at the age of 26.
Standing up, Suzie dusted the sand from her feet and looked out at the horizon once more. Tomorrow was coming, and so was Chad. There was much to be done. The town had been abuzz earlier in the day as excited townsfolk set up banners, bright decorations, stalls, and a stage where the mayor was to present Chad with a plaque from the town to celebrate him winning a world title. Suzie herself had a pretty big job; she was an expert baker and was providing much of the food for the street party which would take place along the seafront.
She couldn’t wait to see him. It would be a good day.
Yet deep down, Suzie felt something was off. Looking to the ocean, the waves gently lapping against the shore, such a sight had always calmed her nerves. This night, the night before, she was not comforted by the waters. It was as if a storm were just out of sight, beyond the horizon. Trouble brewing. A disastrous chain of events that would visit terror on the people of Danvers Bay, and heartache to Suzie herself.
The next day would bring all of that and more...
Suzie woke the next morning at 3:30AM. That might have seemed unusual to most people, but as a baker, ridiculously early mornings were an occupational hazard. By 4AM she had wandered downstairs to the ovens at the back of her store and began baking many of the delicious cakes, pastries, and pies that were to signify the return of Danvers Bay’s triumphant warrior.
As the air filled with the smell of freshly baked breads and pastries, a knock came at the glass door that looked out onto the seafront. It was Lisa. Suzie, her shiny brunette hair tied up and her face already covered in flour, smiled through the glass and unlocked the door, welcoming her friend inside.
Lisa and Suzie had been friends since grade school. They’d both bonded immediately over their obsession for a boy band popular at the time, one which by now had been forgotten by most, though not by them. Since then, they’d been through life’s ups and downs together. It was a friendship built to last, and when Suzie managed to get a loan from the bank to start up her bakery, Lisa was happy to lend a hand as her assistant.
Some friends would struggle working together, getting on each other’s nerves, but not Lisa and Suzie. They laughed, and of the few shops and cafes around town, visitors always remarked that “Suzie’s,” an ‘imaginative’ title for the bakery, always seemed so welcoming and happy. That was because of the atmosphere their friendship created in the place.
Suzie knew the next few days would be trying for Lisa. The entire town was making a huge deal about her brother coming back to Danvers Bay, but Lisa herself hadn’t said much about it, no doubt the fall out between her and her brother still simmering away underneath.
Lisa tied up her thick blond hair and put on her bright blue with her name across it. “You want me to do the ginger breads?” she said, still obviously tired.
“Sure sweetie, whatever you want to do. I’m just getting the apple pies together.”
“Are you sure you want to be doing that?” Lisa tried hard not to giggle.
“Yes, yes, very funny,” said Suzie sarcastically. “You make one mistake and bake pears instead of apples, and the world doesn’t let you forget about it!”
They worked for the next few hours. It was the largest order Suzie’s had ever had to fulfill, and as they sat there, the work finally done and the numerous pastries and pies boxed up ready to be delivered, Suzie turned to Lisa: “I can handle the rest today, Lisa. If you want to go home and have a quiet day?”
“No!” Lisa said sharply, before softening her voice. “I’m sorry. Everyone seems so worried about me and Chad. Sometimes I wonder if people are just more concerned I’ll make a big scene in front of their hero.”
“I’m sorry, Lisa. I didn’t mean…”
“I didn’t mean you, Suzie. I know you’re just looking out for me.”
Suzie rested her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. Chad isn’t my concern.”
Lisa smiled. “I’ll be fine, honestly. I feel that if I didn’t show my face, he’d think he’d won.”
“I…” Suzie stammered for the words.
“I know what you’re going to say—‘let bygones be bygones,’ but I don’t think I can ever forgive him…” Lisa looked sadly down at her feet for a moment, before raising her head and smiling. “I’ll be there for you today, Suzie. This is the biggest day the bakery has ever had, and I won’t let you down. But please, don’t ask me to speak to my brother, I really have nothing to say to him…”
Suzie knew not to push any harder. As much as she loved Lisa, she could always be a firecracker, and on that day of all days, fireworks were not what either of them needed. It wasn’t that the bakery was in danger of going out of business, but the last couple of months hadn’t been as good as usual, and so the money coming in from Chad’s big day would be a big help.
They stepped outside into the morning sun. The sea breeze from the bay still cool before the midday heat. Suzie smiled at the seafront. She was happy that the town had come together for a big occasion. Chad wasn’t due to arrive until 1PM, but the hanging decorations which stretched across the street, and the small stage where the ceremony was going to take place were already in place from the previous day.
Everyone was running around busying themselves. Sammy Twain, the hairdresser, had a stall offering free head massages—why he thought the people of Danvers Bay needed them, Suzie didn’t quite know. Janice Sterling was setting up another stall, complete with barrels filled to the brim with apple cider she’d made for the big day. Most of the town’s merchants and a
few people Suzie didn’t know were stocking stalls with food, clothes, and other products. A fundraising group set up some carnival booths where people could win prizes if they were a good shot with an air rifle, or skilled at netting a few baskets. Suzie chuckled thinking about the frustrated people who would keep trying sure they would eventually win.
“Good morning, ladies!” a loud booming voice shouted. It was Thomas Jones, the town mayor. He was fairly popular with the people of Danvers Bay; a handsome man of about 50 years old, his black hair clearly dyed, and his suit pressed to impress. However, despite this carefully orchestrated appearance, he was seen as a genuine and likable person who really cared about the town. Probably the reason he’d been voted mayor several years running.
He stepped up and shook Suzie and Lisa’s hands.
“Nice to see you, mayor. Looks like it’s going to be a great day,” Suzie said.
“I hope so. It means a lot to the town, and if there were any problems...” the mayor looked at Lisa suspiciously. “Hopefully there’ll be no awkward surprises.”
“Maybe there will be…” Lisa said.
“She’s only joking, mayor. I think your wife is trying to get your attention over by the stage,” said Suzie, pointing at a rather large woman in a pink suit, waving frantically.
“Okay, but Lisa, this is a big day for the town, try not to be selfish and ruin it,” with that, the mayor walked away.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to annoy the mayor. He’s stressed as it is…”
Lisa sighed. “Probably, but he should know me better than to think I would cause any problems for him or the town.”
“Let’s just start setting up our stall and forget about it. I’m sure the day will go by quickly, Sweetie.”
Lisa helped place the cakes and pastries on a wide fold out table covered in a red and white checkered cloth. As the the time of the presentation neared, the seafront was officially cordoned off by a local police officer, and the first street party Danvers Bay had had in living memory was well underway. In fact, old Mrs. Rogers commented that it was the first one she’d seen since the war—which war Suzie didn’t know. Mrs. Rogers was old enough that it could be almost any of the wars kids learn about in history class, Suzie thought to herself with a smile.