by Traci DePree
“Could you pick up some night crawlers and leeches? I do have to get back to the church this afternoon, so if you could get those, that’d be great.”
“Night crawlers and leeches? Not on your life!” Even the thought of the creepy-crawlies made her shudder.
Paul’s chuckle turned to a laugh. “Never mind, then. I’ll pick them up myself when I head to Danny’s. The guys will be there at three thirty.” He glanced at his watch as Kate finished preparing his sandwich. “I better gather my supplies so I can grab my stuff and go right after work.” He disappeared toward the general vicinity of the garage.
Kate ate her own sandwich, then picked up her list of clues and the letter, and tucked them into her handbag before heading to the garage. She waved good-bye to Paul and climbed into her black Honda Accord to head to town.
A chilly yet lovely spring day had descended on the quaint Tennessee valley. Sunlight touched the greening trees that arched over Smoky Mountain Road, and the morning mist had long since evaporated from the roadway. Ahead, Copper Mill shone like a jewel in the early afternoon sun. Steeples peeked from above the treetops, and the silver water tower reflected the light in a flash when it was at just the right angle. Kate squinted, wishing she’d thought to put on her sunglasses before she’d left the house.
Kate drove past Copper Mill Park, where toddlers were swinging and mothers chatted with one another on park benches. After taking a right onto Main Street, Kate drove past the Mercantile and pulled into the library’s parking lot. In the heart of downtown, the Copper Mill Public Library was housed in a historic two-story brick building with green trim. There were several cars parked outside, including Livvy’s SUV.
Kate gathered the books she needed to return and made her way inside the building. Patrons sat at the library’s reading tables. Livvy’s auburn head was bent over a computer at the main checkout station. She was engrossed in something on the screen, and she adjusted her glasses. When Kate set down her return items on the counter, Livvy looked up.
“Good afternoon, friend,” she said. A smile touched her lips.
Kate returned the greeting as Livvy reached for the books and began to check them in.
“Say...,” Kate began, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
Livvy raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. What’s up now?”
Kate reached inside her handbag for the letter. “Paul found this on his desk last Sunday.” She handed it to Livvy, then glanced around the quiet library. No one seemed to take note of them; heads were buried in books and magazines.
Livvy sent her a curious glance, then pulled the stationery from the matching pink envelope. Kate watched her face as she read. Livvy’s brows knit together, and then her eyes filled with concern. When she lifted her gaze to Kate’s, she was shaking her head.
“How sad,” she said. “Do you know who it is?”
“That’s the problem; I have no idea. It could be one of the girls from Faith Briar, but I’m not sure...”
She retrieved the bulleted list she’d made and laid that on the counter between them. “This is a list of the clues I have already. I was hoping you might be able to help me narrow it down since you work at the library and know more people in town than I do.”
Livvy smirked slightly. “Another mystery?”
Kate shrugged. “You know me.”
Livvy studied the list. “You spelled anonymous wrong,” she said.
Kate pointed to the signature on the letter. “That’s how she spelled it. I thought perhaps it was significant. And look at the drawing in the lower corner. It’s quite impressive.”
Livvy stared at the elaborate Celtic cross. “It’s very detailed.” She leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “So, what are you thinking?”
“First, I’m wondering if there are any widowers in town who have a teenage daughter. I guess I’m assuming she’s a teenager, but she could be older. The only mention of a mother is here.” She pointed. “I get the impression that the mother has either left or passed away. Actually,” she continued, “I was thinking we should call Malcolm Dekker at the funeral home and ask if he knows of any teenage girls from Copper Mill who’ve lost their mothers.”
Livvy nodded. “That’s a great idea. Let’s go into my office.”
She turned and spoke to Morty Robertson, an elderly gentleman who volunteered once or twice a week at the library, asking him to man the station for her. He lifted his wrinkled face to Kate and gave her a wink. Livvy led Kate into her office.
“I’ve heard that Malcolm has a memory like a steel trap,” she said as she pulled the phone book from her desk drawer and handed the telephone to Kate.
As a pastor’s wife in San Antonio, Kate had attended more funerals than she could remember, so she’d come to know all the local funeral directors. But since she came to Copper Mill, there had only been a handful of funerals to speak of. Even still, she’d become acquainted with the odd little man who was Copper Mill’s only funeral director. She had found him both eccentric and pragmatic—a combination she hadn’t known was possible until she met him.
A winded voice came on the line just as Kate was about to hang up. “Dekker Funeral Home,” Malcolm Dekker said in his whiny voice.
“Malcolm,” Kate said, “this is Kate Hanlon. How are you today?”
“Sorry, I don’t have time to chat. Did someone die?”
“No...”
“I’ve gotta run, then. I’m in the middle of something.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there a better time to call? I need to ask you some questions.”
He sighed, and then there was a long moment of silence.
Finally he said, “My meeting should be done in forty-five minutes. Why don’t you just stop by? I hate talking on the phone.”
“Oh. All right. I’ll be there then.” She hung up.
“Well?” Livvy said.
“He couldn’t talk. I’m going to stop by after I finish some errands. So...”—Kate turned her attention back to the list— “I noted that the girl’s boyfriend is older than she is. But the letter didn’t say by how much, and she seems really insecure about their relationship. Do you know of any romances in town where the boy is older than the girl?”
Kate sat back and studied her friend’s hazel eyes as she considered Kate’s question. “Hmm...” Livvy chewed on her lower lip. “There was Mabel Trout’s daughter and that film producer.”
“Really?” Kate leaned forward in her chair.
“But I think he died a couple years ago . . .”
“That doesn’t really fit then.”
Livvy finally shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t think of anyone. Besides, I don’t know enough teenage girls to have any idea. That’s the problem with having sons; I only get to know the boys. Unless one of my boys brings a girlfriend home, of course.”
“I saw James’s new girlfriend at youth group.”
Livvy smiled. “Anne. She’s a nice girl.”
“How long have they been going out?”
“A couple of months. You know how these things are. One day they’re on, the next they’re off.” Livvy laughed.
Kate nodded, remembering all too well the influx of girlfriends and boyfriends her son and daughters had brought through their home when they were younger.
Finally Kate returned to the topic at hand, pointing to the list. “Do you think Justin and James would know of any such relationships, especially if she isn’t living with her mother?” Kate asked.
“I’ll ask them after school. Wait, the afterprom meeting is tonight, right? They’ll both be there.”
“I can ask them then,” Kate said, then paused. “But I don’t want to start any rumors around school by asking too many questions either.”
“You’re right. That could be a problem. I’ll ask when they get home tonight,” Livvy said. “Kids expect their mothers to be nosy.”
Kate glanced at her watch. “Which reminds me...I’d better get a move on. What time are the
men coming home from fishing tonight? Paul didn’t mention where he was eating.”
“The men are going fishing?”
“Danny didn’t tell you?”
Livvy shook her head. “Men” was all she said. Then she and Kate stood.
“Can I photocopy those?” Livvy asked, pointing at the letter and the bulleted list.
“Of course.” Kate handed the papers to her friend.
“I’ll noodle on the clues. Maybe something will come to me.”
After Livvy photocopied the pages and returned them, Kate left to run her errands before heading to the funeral home. She stopped at the post office to purchase a roll of stamps and at the gas station, where she filled up her tank.
She was on her way to the funeral home when she noticed Emma’s Ice Cream, an old-fashioned ice-cream shop and candy store in downtown Copper Mill. Remembering that Anne Jackson and Angie Petzel, whom she had met at youth group, worked there, she stopped in for a treat.
Emma, the owner and namesake of the place, was stocking bins of candy that lined one wall, and Angie was working the cash register. Angie glanced up as Kate stepped in front of the ice-cream freezer and gazed through the glass, trying to decide what flavor she was in the mood for. They had the regulars like vanilla and Rocky Road, chocolate and mint chocolate chip, as well as their house specials that Emma perfected herself, flavors like “Walloping Watermelon” and “Peanut Butter Melt-Away.”
Angie came over. “Hey, Mrs. Hanlon. Can I help you?”
Kate smiled at the girl. Her high cheekbones gave her face angular lines, and she had striking pale green eyes. She wore a cute multilayered outfit—a tank with lace that peeked from beneath a lime-green tank, and a lightweight yellow sweater with intricate embroidery along its neckline. A scarf like a headband covered her silky brown hair, and she had a different post in the side of her nose—this time a simple gold dot that looked like a ball bearing.
“Do you have any recommendations?” Kate asked, tempted by several flavors.
Angie studied the selections for a moment. “Depends on your taste. I’m not one for the real sugary stuff.”
Kate found the statement ironic, considering the girl worked in an ice-cream parlor. When she glanced up, she saw a note by the register that read, Marlee out sick today.
“Oh, Marlee works here?” Kate asked.
Angie nodded. “Emma just hired both of us since Brenna Phillips hasn’t been able to put in as many hours during the school year.”
Kate glanced at her watch, realizing school was still in session. “I thought you were still in school...,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m a senior. I get to leave campus during free periods so I can work here.”
“Sounds perfect.” Kate found her eyes lingering on the girl’s nose ring. Finally she said, “That’s...cute.” She pointed to the same spot on her own nose.
Angie lightly touched the gold post. “Thanks.” She gave an awkward laugh and then straightened her tall frame slightly. “So...?” She directed Kate’s attention back to the ice cream.
“Oh,” Kate said, quickly making her choice. “I’ll take the mint chocolate chip.”
“Sugar cone or cake?”
Kate pointed to the sugar cone, and Angie began scooping the ice cream.
Kate studied the girl, her mind floating back to her quest. Could Angie be the one? She seemed like a confident, put-together young woman. She had healthy color in her cheeks, and she was thin, with a flat stomach. Whoever the anonymous girl was, she might be exhibiting some outward signs of her pregnancy by this time, and the fact that Angie was so confident seemed incongruent with the devastated, frantic nature of the letter.
Kate’s gaze returned to the note by the register. Marlee was out sick. Kate took note.
She thanked Angie, then moved to the wall of bins, where Emma was working away. At Kate’s greeting, the rotund woman lifted her sallow face, which lit into a smile.
“Kate, it’s great to see you,” Emma said. “You need some candy? Am I in your way?”
Kate smiled and said, “Actually, I was wondering if you have a minute to talk?”
Emma looked around the shop, then nodded to one of the empty tables near the front of the store, where no one would hear them.
They each took a seat, and Emma looked expectantly at Kate. “What’s on your mind?”
“I...” Kate cleared her throat. Then she pursed her lips and started over. “I have some questions for you about...Marlee.”
Emma leaned toward her until Kate could smell the mint on her breath. “You mean my employee, Marlee?”
Kate nodded.
“It isn’t like you to gossip, Kate Hanlon,” she said.
Kate smiled. “It’s not my intent to gossip. Trust me.”
“What is it you think she’s done? She’s only worked here a couple of weeks.”
Kate nodded that she was aware of the fact. “I was just wondering what you know about her home life, her interests. Does she have a mother?”
“Oh.” The expression on her face said she didn’t understand why Kate would want to know about the girl. Nonetheless, she went on. “Well, Marlee is an only child. I don’t know much about her parents. She’s a pretty good worker, as far as teenagers go. She has been moody lately and has even missed work a couple times. She’s out sick today.”
“I saw the note,” Kate said.
Emma’s eyes widened. “So this has something to do with her health?”
Kate held up a hand to stop her. “I can’t say what it’s about. I’m sorry, Emma. But trust me; I have good intentions.”
Still, Emma’s brow furrowed.
“Let me ask you this. Has she seemed ill when she does come in?” Kate ventured.
“Like I said, she’s only worked here a couple of weeks...” Emma shrugged.
She stood and thanked Emma for her time. The woman had a disappointed expression on her face, but Kate wasn’t about to divulge any information. She returned to her car.
She didn’t know Marlee very well yet, and the truth was, she wanted to develop a strong relationship with all the girls in the youth group. She couldn’t just blurt out, “Are you pregnant?” After all, she’d just taken over the youth group. She still had trust to build with the group.
The letter hadn’t said how far along the girl was, but Kate had deduced she was early in the pregnancy, because nobody knew about it yet. It would soon become all too evident. If only Kate had the wisdom of Solomon to figure out who the poor girl was before she had to face that humiliation alone.
Chapter Four
By the time Kate got to Dekker Funeral Home on the south side of town, almost an hour had passed since their phone call. Kate hoped the man would be ready to talk.
She made her way up the stone walkway and through the double doors at the front of the one-story white building. It was a run-of-the-mill funeral home, at least on the outside, with its white facade and twin pillars that flanked the double-wide front doors. Yet inside was a memory of some bygone era. Faded maroon velvet curtains with gold tiebacks fringed with tiny pom-poms framed the windows from ceiling to floor. The carpet was a busy pattern in golds and browns, though the center was so worn that the backing showed through in spots. Floral wallpaper continued the busy theme and gave the place a boudoir feeling that seemed incongruent with the dignified nature of funeral homes.
“Hello?” Kate called.
There was no answer. Kate moved toward the office. It was deathly quiet.
“Hello?” Kate called again.
She walked to the back of the building. An open door revealed a large room with chairs lined up and an open casket at the front. Bouquets of flowers were arranged here and there. A woman was setting up an easel with a collage of photographs at the far side of the room.
“Excuse me,” Kate said. The woman lifted her head. “Do you know where Malcolm is?”
“He’s in the embalming room.” The woman pointed behind Kate. “It’s down thos
e stairs, in the basement. First door on the left.”
Kate thanked her and turned to go, but when she reached the stairs, Malcolm Dekker was coming up. The funeral director was a short, skinny man with Coke-bottle glasses and a receding hairline. His teeth were yellowed and stained, causing Kate to wonder if he’d ever set foot in a dental office. He lifted his gaze to Kate’s and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“You are here,” he said, then motioned for Kate to follow as he led the way to his office. “I have a viewing in an hour, so we’re going to have to make this snappy.” He pointed toward the room where Kate had spoken with the woman and added, “Poor guy was in a freak accident at work. He was in construction.”
Kate glanced toward the open casket. She could make out dark hair and a sallow-looking face beneath a spray of flowers that read “Dad” in the lid of the casket. Kate imagined the grieving family. To lose someone in the prime of life was more than a tragedy; it disrupted everything, put children in hard situations, left spouses devastated. Kate inhaled a deep breath and was surprised to realize that even the death of a stranger could choke her up.
When they reached the office, Kate took one of the leather chairs opposite the large walnut desk where Malcolm sat. As he leaned his elbows on the massive piece of furniture, he reminded Kate of a child in need of a booster seat.
The surface was empty save for a framed photograph and a newspaper. The photograph was of a girl. Kate studied it for a moment. She looked familiar, with bleached hair.
“On the phone you said you had a question...” Malcolm interrupted her musing.
“Oh yes,” Kate began. “I’m wondering if you know of any widowers in town who might have a teenage daughter.”
Malcolm raised his eyebrows and wiped his nose with a handkerchief that he pulled from his suit pocket. “In the market for a new family, are you?” the man said with an odd little sniffle.
Kate couldn’t tell whether he was serious. Then a grin spread across his wrinkled face, and those yellow teeth drew Kate’s gaze.