The Mother's Day Mishap (A Tess and Tilly Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Kathi Daley

  Tony started to lean forward. I had the oddest feeling he was going to kiss me, but then he simply wiped a piece of muffin from the corner of my mouth. “We should get these dishes done and get going. We have a busy day ahead.”

  I nodded, both relieved and disappointed that Tony hadn’t been leaning in for a kiss. He was a friend, and it would be much too big a risk for us to become romantically involved, but there were times I wondered how it would feel to be kissed by him. Would it be familiar, comforting, and pleasant, like a hand-quilted comforter wrapped around me on a cold winter day? Or would it be hot, passionate, and consuming, like a forest fire raging out of control?

  Chapter 8

  After we cleaned up the kitchen, I called Sue to ask her if Chip had had a girlfriend in high school. She said he’d dated a girl named Connie Payton through most of his junior year. Sue and Connie had been friends and had stayed in touch. Now, Connie lived in Polson, on the southern end of Flathead Lake, which was only about an hour’s drive from Kalispell. I called her, explained who I was, and asked if it would be all right if Tony and I stopped by later that day. She told me that she’d be working at the café she owned until six, so it was fine to come by at any time before then and gave me directions there.

  I got off the phone and took the dogs out for a quick walk. It was still my plan to bring them with us, but it looked like we were going to be spending more time in Tony’s truck than we’d originally thought. I wanted to wear them out a bit before we left.

  I hadn’t decided what to do about the kittens, but after thinking things over, I realized it would be best to drop them and my Jeep off at the cabin on the way out of town. I wouldn’t be staying over with Tony again that night because I had work the next day, and it would save me time to have him drop me off at home when we arrived back in town. Besides, he wanted to take measurements for my deck garden, a project I’d become excited about.

  When the dogs and I got back to the house, I explained my plan to Tony. It would take him a few minutes to grab the tools he’d need to measure and design my planter boxes, so I left Tilly with him, grabbed the kittens, and headed home. When I arrived, there was a message from Mike on my answering machine.

  “Hey, Tess. I wanted to let you know I put some additional feelers out on Chip Townsend. I don’t have anything so far, but I’ll keep looking. On another subject, I invited Bree to your place for the barbecue on Sunday. She mentioned she didn’t have plans for Mother’s Day when we had dinner on Friday, so I asked Mom if she minded and she didn’t. I assumed that would be okay with you. I’m going fishing today, but I’ll be in the office tomorrow and will talk to you then.”

  “Okay,” I said to Tang, who was sitting on the counter watching me as I listened to the message. “What do I need to grab for the day? A change of clothes? A jacket just in case we don’t get home until late?”

  “Meow.”

  “You’re right. A pair of tennis shoes would be a good idea if I’m wearing flip-flops.” I shooed the kitten off the counter, filled the food and water bowls, and checked the litter box, which was perfectly clean. I’d just finished gathering the things I’d decided I needed when Tony’s truck pulled up.

  He thought it would be best to do the measurements for the planter boxes now, in case it was dark when we returned to town.

  “I’d like something that borders the deck here and here.” I pointed to the area I had in mind. “I won’t need anything as wide as yours because I just want to plant some colorful annuals, but I’d like the boxes to be long enough to reach all the way down to the end of the back edge of the deck.”

  Tony pulled out a pad and pencil and drew a quick sketch that exactly matched the image in my head. Once we agreed on size and placement, he took some measurements and promised to get started cutting the wood the following day. Then we loaded Tilly and Titan in the truck and headed into town.

  The first stop along our proposed route was Patty’s Trinkets, a colorful store that sold a little bit of everything and attracted tourists looking for handcrafted items to take home as souvenirs of White Eagle. I wasn’t sure exactly how long Patty had been in business, but I knew it must be well before Edna had closed her antique shop and moved away. I hoped they’d shared memories in the years they’d been neighbors.

  “Morning, Tess, Tony. How can I help you today?” Patty asked as she came into the main room from the back in response to the little bell over the door announcing our arrival.

  “We wanted to ask you some questions about Edna Fairchild, if that’s okay,” I said.

  Patty nodded. “Bree told me about the card that went to her place. I figured you might be by if you hadn’t been able to track down her boy. I wish I could tell you that I knew what had become of him, but Edna didn’t like to talk about the past. I didn’t even know she had a child until she mentioned him in passing after I’d been operating from this location at least five years.”

  I leaned my forearms on the counter. “Did she ever mention any other relatives? Maybe someone she stayed in touch with over the years?”

  Patty paused, then slowly shook her head. “Not that I can recall. I’m not sure what happened in her past, but I think it must have been pretty bad. Something she wanted to forget. Edna stayed very much in the present. I remember chatting with her a few times around the holidays, and while I shared memories, she never said a word about anything that went back more than a few years.” Patty frowned. “Although…”

  “Although…?” I prodded gently.

  “She did mention someone, now that I think about it. I was telling her about the fun my brother and I had when we were kids living on our grandparents’ farm. We were close as children and still are to this day. Edna snorted, then said the only memories she had of her brother were of abandonment and betrayal.”

  “Did she mention her brother’s name?”

  “Not that I remember. I suppose there might be records you could look up that would give you that information. I seem to remember Edna said she was born in a small town in Kansas. Cottonwood Falls; I think she said she was from Cottonwood Falls.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced at Tony. “We might be able to use that to track down her brother if he’s still alive. I appreciate you taking the time to chat with us.”

  After that, we headed toward Kalispell. It was a beautiful day, and Tony rolled down the windows so we could enjoy the fresh air.

  “You know,” I said, “when we were speaking to Patty, it occurred to me that it might be helpful to find out Edna’s next of kin. The assisted-living facility might be able to tell us who that is.”

  “We can certainly ask. Did you bring the card Chip sent to Edna?”

  “I did. I figured we might need it to gain cooperation from anyone who might doubt our intentions.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  I took a deep breath of the fresh spring air as we headed down the highway. Part of me wished we had nothing to do on a day as perfect as this but hike through the wildflowers, swim in the lake, and picnic under a big shade tree. When was the last time I’d had a day with absolutely nothing to do but relax? It had been a while.

  I turned and looked at Titan and Tilly. They sat on opposite sides of the backseat with their heads out the windows closest to them, their mouths open and tongues hanging. They looked so content. I stuck my own head out my window and closed my eyes. It was pretty spectacular to have the wind whip through my hair as Bon Jovi blared from the stereo speakers.

  Of course, by the time we reached Kalispell my hair looked like rats were nesting in it. I rolled up my window, pulled a brush from my backpack, and began working out the knots.

  “Do you have an address for the facility?” Tony asked me.

  I looked at the piece of paper I’d used to jot down my notes and rattled it off. Tony punched it into his GPS app and followed the directions.

  The facility was smallish compared to some. We learned it housed just twelve residents, each with their own
bedroom, bathroom, and kitchenette. Meals were served in a communal dining room if the residents preferred, and there were scheduled activities throughout the day for those who were interested. There was a park just down the street, and we let the dogs out for a minute before we headed inside. It had only been an hour since we’d loaded them into the truck, but we weren’t sure how long we’d be inside, so it seemed best to let the dogs stretch their legs a bit before we went in.

  We played fetch for twenty minutes, then parked the truck in the shade and rolled down all four windows so the dogs had plenty of air. They were tired from our romp and immediately settled down to nap.

  “Can I help you?” a woman in a neat but casual outfit asked as we walked through the front door of the last home Edna had before her death.

  “I’m Tony Marconi. I called earlier about speaking to staff and residents who might have known Edna Fairchild.”

  The woman smiled. “Of course. My name is Helen Short. Why don’t you come into my office so we can chat?”

  We followed the woman, who appeared to be in her late forties, into a small office. She sat down on one side of a small conference table and indicated chairs for us on the other.

  “You mentioned a letter…?”

  I took out the card and handed it to her. “Bree Price owns a bookstore that’s in the building that used to hold Edna’s Antiques. She received the card with her stack of mail and didn’t realize it wasn’t meant for her until after she opened it. I’m the mail carrier in White Eagle, so she asked me if I could return the card to the sender. The problem is, there was no name or return address on the envelope. I’ve since learned Edna had a son, Chip. Actually, his legal name was Greg Townsend. We’ve been trying to find him, but we haven’t had any luck so far. We hoped Edna might have spoken to someone during her time here about her son or another relative who might be able to put us in touch with him. As you can see by the letter, it appears he doesn’t know she’s passed.”

  She frowned. “Yes, that does appear to be the case.” She looked up from the card, which she still held in her hand. “It would be a shame if Edna’s son went to their special place after all this time and she wasn’t there to meet him. I applaud your efforts to find him. I pulled Edna’s records after Mr. Marconi’s call. I’m afraid Edna never mentioned having a son. She listed Beth Wright as her emergency contact. I have a phone number I’d be willing to share with you, but I don’t know if it’s still accurate. The number was provided when Edna moved in and was never updated.”

  “A phone number would be great,” I said.

  “Did Edna have any visitors while she lived here?” Tony asked.

  “Sadly, no. She didn’t make a lot of friends either. She tended to stay in her room, rarely coming down to communal meals or to participate in any of the group activities. There was one resident she talked to from time to time: Warren Cole. He’s been with us for ten years and has a way of breaking through the walls of defense that even the most unsocial of our residents occasionally erect.”

  “Is he here now?” I asked.

  “He’s on the patio. I’ll introduce you.”

  Tony and I followed Ms. Short through the tidy facility. Just off the dining area was an electric door that led out onto the patio. Helen greeted the residents as we made her way to a tall man sitting in a wheelchair, reading a book.

  “Warren, I’d like you to meet Tess and Tony. They’re friends of Edna’s and would like to speak to you for a few minutes.”

  His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I’d love to have some company. Please, have a seat.”

  Tony and I sat down on nearby patio chairs and briefly summed up our reason for being there, then gave him the card to read.

  “Edna had a tough life,” he said. “She didn’t like to talk about her past, but she did mention a place she liked to go when she needed to relax. I don’t know if it’s the same place she went with her son, but it might be.”

  “I agree. Do you remember the name of the place?”

  Mr. Cole scrunched up his face. “It was a falls. Not far from her home in White Eagle.” He tapped the side of his head with an index finger. “Whispering Falls; that’s it. Edna said there was a path that wound around behind the falls. There was a cave or an underground tunnel that allowed you to see the falls from the back side. She told me few people, even locals, knew about it, so it was the perfect place to go when she needed to be alone.”

  I’d heard of Whispering Falls and had even hiked there a time or two, but I’d never heard there was a way to get around to the back. Whether this was the special place Chip spoke of or not, I was intrigued.

  “Is there anything else you can think of that might help us?” I asked.

  Mr. Cole shook his head. “Edna lived very much in the now. By the time most folks end up here, the focus of their attention is on the past, but not Edna. She didn’t want to remember what had gone on before; she’d learned to keep her sights on the present and only the present. I certainly hope you find the boy who sent the card. It would be a tragedy if he went through the rest of his life believing he’d reached out to his mother and she hadn’t accepted his gesture.”

  “Yes,” I said. “It would be a tragedy.”

  Chapter 9

  The first thing I did after Tony and I returned to the truck was to call Beth Wright, Edna’s emergency contact. Unfortunately, the phone had been disconnected and there wasn’t a forwarding number, so I called Mike and left a message. “I know you’re fishing, Mike, but I have a couple of things I need you to follow up on when you get into the office tomorrow. First, I spoke to a woman at the assisted-living facility where Edna lived when she passed, and she gave me the name of Edna’s emergency contact. Her name is Beth Wright, but the phone number on file has been disconnected. I have the old number, if that will help you track her down.” I rattled off the number. “And I wondered if you could check with the police in Kalispell to see if they contacted anyone else as next of kin when Edna died. Tony and I are following up on some other leads today, but I’d like to keep the momentum going, in case our leads don’t pan out. I’d really like to find Edna’s son before Mother’s Day.”

  I hung up and turned to Tony. “Okay, let’s head to Polson. Connie Payton owns a diner, so we can grab some lunch while we’re there. Maybe we can head to the lake and let the dogs take a nice long swim after that.”

  Tony started the truck. “Seems like a good plan. Rock or country?” he asked, his hand near the radio tuner.

  “Rock,” I replied as I rolled down all the windows and sang along at the top of my lungs. I giggled when Titan began to howl. I wasn’t sure if he was joining in, or if he was trying to let me know my singing was the worst and I should take it down a decibel or two.

  The trip to Polson was uneventful. When we arrived at the diner we saw the patio was open, and well-behaved dogs, it seemed, were welcome to dine with their humans. Selecting a table in the shade, Tony instructed both dogs to get down under the table while I went inside to look for Connie Payton. It was lunchtime and so somewhat crowded, but she handed me glasses filled with water and promised to come outside to speak to us as soon as she was able.

  “Maybe we should have been more careful about our timing,” I said when I returned to Tony and the dogs.

  “Is she too busy to speak to us?”

  “She said she’d be out. In the meantime, I snagged us a couple of menus. We may as well put in our order while we’re waiting.”

  I ordered a club sandwich and Tony chose a tri-tip sandwich. We both ordered sides of fruit and glasses of ice tea. Shortly after the waitress put in our order, Connie came out to join us.

  “I guess we came at the worst possible time,” I apologized.

  “It’s fine. I have plenty of help today.” Connie looked under the table. “You have well-behaved dogs.”

  “My mom owns a restaurant, so they know the drill.”

  “Would you like something to eat before we get started?”


  “We’ve already ordered,” I said. “We’ll try to be quick; we can see you’re busy.”

  I handed her Chip’s card, then explained what sort of information we hoped she’d be able to provide. I could see reading the card affected her deeply. More so, I was certain, than anyone else who’d read it to this point.

  “I guess you know about Chip’s father.”

  I nodded. “Sue Wade filled me in. I can’t imagine having to live with something like that. It must have been awful.”

  “It was. And when he ended up in the news and everyone found out about Chip’s relationship to him, it became a whole lot worse. His mother was dealing with things in her own way, but I can tell you with complete certainty they didn’t see eye to eye on what was best. I wasn’t surprised when he took off. White Eagle had become a cruel place for him.”

  “Did you stay in contact with him after he left?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Chip changed after the news about his father became public. He was angry and aggressive, and I went from being in love with him to being afraid of him. I broke things off and did my best to stay off his radar. I don’t think he stayed in touch with anyone after he left, and then maybe four or five years ago, he called me from out of the blue and apologized for being such a jerk when all I’d wanted to do was help him through a difficult time. He sounded like the old Chip. The one I fell in love with.”

  “Did he give you a way to contact him?”

  She tilted her head. “No. And I didn’t ask. I was glad Chip called. It brought me closure. But he hadn’t been part of my life for a very long time. I was married with children of my own by the time he reached out, and I’d moved from White Eagle and owned this restaurant. I wasn’t interested in renewing our friendship.”

  “That’s understandable.” I nodded toward the card on the table. “Chip mentions meeting his mother at their ‘special place.’ Do you know where that might be?”