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

by Kathi Daley

  Nicole made eye contact with each person in the room as she continued. “Emily and I aren’t close. She’s the product of my mother’s second marriage, to a man I’ve only met once. My mother is a troubled woman. I’ve only spoken to her a handful of times since I was put into foster care when I was twelve.” She paused and took a breath. I couldn’t imagine how hard this must be for her. “When Emily was born I was fifteen and living with my third foster family. I was taken from my mother when it became apparent she didn’t have what it took to care for or supervise me. I was told that once she completed a series of tasks determined by the court, I’d be returned to her.” Nicole cleared her throat, then took a sip of water from the glass on the table near her. “In the beginning, I believed she would fight for me, so I hoped and waited. But as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, I began to fear she had moved on without me. When Emily was born, it finally sank in that the person I’d depended on more than anyone in the world was too busy marrying another man and having another baby to even remember the child she’d left behind.”

  I put a hand to my heart. It was obvious Nicole was still angry about the situation. Not that I blamed her. She appeared to be a very private person and I was willing to bet it had taken her a lot of courage to admit to her feelings of betrayal and, I was sure, inadequacy.

  Nicole continued. “After I reached my eighteenth birthday and was free to make my own choices, I got a job, worked hard, and cut my mother out of my life completely. I figured if she didn’t have time for me, I didn’t have time for her. I didn’t see or hear from her or my sister for almost nine years. I saw Emily for the first time at my grandmother’s when she was twelve. After I spoke to her, I realized I’d had the better childhood. I won’t say we became great friends, but we did begin to text each other from time to time, and I made a point of sending her a gift on her birthday and for Christmas.”

  Nicole cleared her throat and looked nervously around the room before she continued. “Emily called me on the night she left home. She told me that her father had been beating her and she was done. I didn’t blame her for wanting out and offered to let her stay with me. I even offered to drive to Bangor, where she lived with our mother and her father, and pick her up. She said she was grateful for the offer, but she’d met a boy and was in love. She wanted to start a life with this guy, who I know only as Slayer.”

  I cringed. The name Slayer didn’t suggest a guy who would act responsibly and take care of Emily.

  Nicole resumed her story. “Emily knew I was worried about her being on her own, so she agreed to send me a selfie once a week to prove she was safe and happy. And she did. Every Monday, up until May 15.”

  “There was no photo on May 15?” Jackson Jones, a nationally acclaimed author, local newspaper owner, and my boyfriend, asked.

  “There was no photo on May 15 or ever again,” Nicole confirmed. “The last photo I received was sent on May 8. It took me months to figure out where the last photo was taken, but after more than four months of searching for Emily, following every lead I could carve out of the few clues I had, I determined it was taken right here on Gull Island. Right here at this resort.”

  “And you had no idea at all where she might have gone after she left here?” Clara, a self-proclaimed psychic and the author of paranormal mysteries, asked.

  Nicole shook her head. “None. When she missed sending me a photo for the second week in a row, I grew worried.”

  “Did you call the police?” Alex Cole, a fun and flirty millennial and nationally best-selling author, asked.

  Nicole nodded. “When I hadn’t heard from her for three weeks, I called the police in Maine and tried to report her as a missing person. Of course, the first question I was asked was when I had last seen Emily. I had to say it had been over a year since I’d seen her, and I tried to explain about the photos. Finally, I managed to get someone to at least go to speak to Emily’s parents. Our mother assured the police that Emily wasn’t missing; she’d run away. She painted a picture of a troubled girl who was in to drugs and other illegal activity who had abandoned her loving and dedicated parents despite their effort to get help for her. The officer who spoke to my mother and her pond scum of a husband did file a report, but Emily was listed as a runaway, not as a missing person. I’m pretty sure no one took the time to look for her.”

  Alex leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and letting his hands hang between them. “You said you hadn’t seen Emily in over a year and you weren’t really close to her. You also said at the beginning that Emily had run away, so the way police classified her disappearance from her family home was accurate. Are you certain Emily didn’t just get tired of sending you photos as she made a life with this new guy of hers?”

  “No,” Nicole admitted. “I’m not certain Emily is in trouble. She may very well have just grown tired of placating me and stopped bothering with the photos. I’ve tried texting the phone she sent me the photos from hundreds of times, but they remain undelivered. It’s possible she lost or damaged the phone, which might also explain why the photos stopped so abruptly. But I need to know that she’s okay.” Nicole looked Alex in the eye. “If she were your sister, what would you do?”

  Alex sat back in his chair, using one hand to swipe his longish hair back from over his eyes. “I guess, like you, I’d need to know for certain. Which leads to my next question. You’ve been here for months; why didn’t you ask for our help before now?”

  “Honestly,” Nicole looked around the room, “I didn’t trust you. Any of you. The last place my sister was seen was here, and then she disappeared. After I got to know everyone, I could see none of you were responsible for her disappearance. I’ve exhausted every lead, which were slim to begin with. I need your help.”

  Alex smiled a crooked little smile. “Okay. That’s good enough for me.”

  “You said you’ve exhausted every clue,” George Baxter, a seasoned author of traditional whodunits, began. “Exactly what clues have you found to this point?”

  “Not a lot, I’m afraid, but I have a general feel for the route Emily took. I went back through the photos and tried to figure out where they were all taken. It wasn’t easy because they all had nondescript scenery in the background, but I caught a break and found one of the places she stayed. She had moved on by the time I arrived, of course, but I was able to trace the route she and her boyfriend took to the location of the next photo. Based on things she said to people I spoke to, I could move from the location of one photo to the next. I continued to follow them until I arrived on Gull Island.”

  “Do you have a copy of the last photo Emily sent?” Jack asked.

  Nicole held up a photo she’d had enlarged for the meeting. It featured a smiling young girl with long dark hair and shining blue eyes. She was standing in front of a wooden door with the number six on it.

  “Save the girl, save the girl,” said Blackbeard, Garrett’s talkative parrot.

  Garrett chuckled. “Yep that does seem to be the point of this discussion, and yes, the cabin in the photo is one of ours before we remodeled.”

  Nicole looked directly at Garrett, who was sitting in his wheelchair next to Clara. “The reason I wanted to rent a cabin here in the first place was because my sister’s trail died here. When I first contacted Jill, I hoped you would recognize Emily, but then I learned you’d already suffered a stroke and were in the hospital this past May.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” Garrett said with sympathy. “The resort was closed and boarded up after my stroke in late April, until a friend arrived to open it up in June.”

  “I’ve since learned that, which is why I’m here this evening. I need your help.” Nicole looked around the room. “All of your help. I don’t know where Emily is. I don’t know if she’s dead or alive. What I do know is that this resort is the last place she took a selfie. It’s the last place I know she was.”

  The room fell into silence as everyone processed Nicole’s words.
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  “This is going to be a difficult case,” Jack said. “We’ll need to ask tough questions. I suspect your instinct might be to protect your sister from information you think she might not want shared, but even small details could be important.”

  Nicole nodded. “I understand. I’m prepared to be transparent. I just want to find Emily and take her home.” Nicole swiped angrily at a tear that slipped down her cheek.

  I stood up to divert the group’s attention to give Nicole a chance compose herself. From what I knew about her, she wasn’t comfortable with public displays of emotion. “Let’s come up with a plan. A place to start. We all have our specialties; let’s come up with a plan to use them.”

  Brit Baxter, a novice blond-haired writer of chick lit and George’s niece, began. “I can check the usual social media sites to see if photos or mentions of Emily pop up. I can run a Google search for general information, and if you have a list of the places she visited prior to her arrival here, I can research them as well,”

  “And I’ll consult my cards,” Clara offered. She looked at Nicole. “Do you have something personal of hers? Perhaps a hairbrush?”

  Nicole looked like she might refuse but then changed her mind and agreed to get something to Clara right away. It seemed obvious to me that Nicole would depend on logic over feelings and clairvoyance, but she also was determined to do whatever was asked of her.

  “Alex and I can work together to dig into the backgrounds of both Emily and this Slayer,” George volunteered. He glanced at Alex, who nodded.

  “I’ll pull up as much as I can from news articles that may tie in and be relevant,” Jack spoke up. “And Jill and I will also sit down with Nicole and work up a detailed timeline. Once we have that, it may be necessary for someone to go back and reinterview anyone individuals Nicole has already spoken to.”

  “I have time and am happy to travel if need be,” I offered.

  “I’ll show Emily’s photo to others on the island,” Garrett volunteered. “I know a lot of people. Someone must have seen her.”

  “I’ll take you,” Clara offered. “I can drive.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the way Garrett smiled at Clara. It almost seemed as if something was going on between them, but I had no proof of anything more than friendship and it wasn’t my business.

  I was about to ask Nicole if she had anything she wanted to add at this point when my best friend, romance writer Victoria Vance walked into the house with our temporary resident, Abby Boston, and her nieces and nephews.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Vikki said. “Abby has been released from the hospital and I want to get her settled.” Vikki had jumped right in with the kids when it became apparent the very pregnant Abby was going to need help. Lord knew she’d had a tough time of it. First, Abby’s sister had died, leaving her with her four children to raise, and then Abby’s husband had been murdered. To top it all off, shortly before her husband’s death, Abby had found out she had a child of her own on the way. When Abby ended up in the hospital with complications, we’d decided that Abby and the kids should stay with us until after the baby was born.

  “I’m glad you’re home.” I smiled at Abby.

  She smiled shyly in return.

  “I’ll help you get everyone settled,” Brit popped up. She turned to Nicole. “Don’t worry. We’ll find your sister.”

  Nicole sent Brit a look of thanks, then turned back to the rest of the group. “Thank you all for agreeing to do what you can. It means more to me than I can say. I’ve never had anyone I could depend on. You all are so very lucky to have one another.”

  ******

  After everyone returned to their own cabins or rooms, Jack and I took our golden retriever Kizmet—Kizzy for short—out for a walk. Kizzy had stayed with me while Jack’s mother had been visiting him, but now that she’d gone, Kizzy was back to living with him. I found I was really going to miss her. I’d never wanted a dog before, but now that I’d spent time with one, I realized how the furry little creatures could burrow into your heart, filling in all the dark and empty spaces.

  “I spoke to Nicole before she left,” I said as we walked hand in hand along the beach. “She agreed to meet with us in the morning. As we’d already discussed, I told her nine o’clock would work best for us. She’ll be ready with copies of maps, photos, and notes to share.”

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” Jack cautioned as the waves from the calm sea lapped up onto the shore.

  “I know. I think she realizes that too. But God, Jack. A sixteen-year-old girl out on her own with some random guy who might not be trustworthy. We have to try.”

  Jack squeezed my hand. “And we will. If she can be found, we’ll find her.”

  “You think she’s dead,” I said in a flat tone.

  Jack stopped walking and looked at me. “I think she’s either dead or for some reason doesn’t want to be found. I can’t think of any other reason she’d stop sending the photos all of a sudden the way she did.”

  Kizzy brought me a stick. I picked it up and tossed it. “She could have been in an accident. She could have amnesia.”

  Jack put his arm around my shoulders and began walking again. “Yes, there is that. Or she could have been kidnapped. If she’s being held captive, we may be able to find the clues we need to track her down.”

  I laid my head on Jack’s shoulder. “I know the odds are that if we solve the mystery, we’ll do it by finding something tragic. I hope with my whole heart that isn’t true, but it seems to me if someone close to me was missing, I’d want to know. One way or the other, I’d want to know.”

  Jack kissed the side of my face. “Yeah. Me too.”

  We continued to walk in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. After a while, Jack spoke. “You said tonight that if it was determined that reinterviewing people Nicole had already spoken to as she traveled south was necessary, you’d do it.”

  I nodded. “Garrett is doing better, and Clara helps him out with whatever he needs anyway. Brit and Vikki seem to have taken over as caregivers for Abby and the kids, and I know Alex has a deadline he’s been struggling with. I suppose George might have time to take a road trip, but I’d worry about him going on his own. He’s not exactly a spring chicken. I’m between projects right now, I have interview skills from my days as a reporter, and I want to help. I think it should be me.”

  “I agree. What I was going to say is that if you go, I’m going with you.”

  “But you have the paper.”

  “I can do what I need to do from the road once I get the paper out on Wednesday with the help of my part-timers. I know you’re a capable adult and I’m not trying to smother you, but I’d feel more comfortable if I went with you.”

  I looked at the feisty puppy that was sitting at our feet, waiting for one of us to bend down and pick up the stick. “What about Kizzy?”

  “We’ll bring her.”

  I bent down, picked up the stick, and tossed it. “Okay. If, after speaking to Nicole, we feel there would be benefit in reinterviewing the people she’s already spoken to, we’ll all go. You, me, and the dog.”

  Recipes

  Italian Chicken—submitted by Sharon Guagliardo

  Chicken Tetrazzini—submitted by Pam Curran

  Chili Spaghetti—submitted by Patty Liu

  Peanut Butter Swirl Brownies—submitted by Darla Taylor

  Italian Chicken

  Submitted by Sharon Guagliardo

  1 med. red pepper, chopped

  1 med. onion, chopped

  7–10 mushrooms, sliced

  3 boneless chicken breast, sliced lengthwise, then cubed

  Hunt’s Stewed Tomatoes

  Diced fresh parsley

  Diced slivered garlic (3–4 cloves)

  ½ lemon

  Pinch of sugar

  Melt 1 tbs. butter-flavored Crisco in pan. Sauté peppers, onions, mushrooms, and chicken until onions are translucent. Add stewed tomatoes, parsley, garlic, lemon, and sugar.
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  Italian seasoning (7–9 shakes):

  ⅛ tsp. chili powder

  Coarse black pepper

  Simmer 10 minutes. Add sugar, stir in, and serve. Good on fettuccine, egg noodles, or rice.

  Serves 4.

  Chicken Tetrazzini

  Submitted by Pam Curran

  1 chopped onion

  2 sliced celery sticks

  2 tbs. bacon grease

  ½ lb. Velveeta cheese

  1 can cream of mushroom soup

  ½ tsp. salt

  ¼ tsp. black pepper

  3 cups chicken broth

  1 boiled, boned chicken

  10 oz. cooked spaghetti

  Slivered almonds

  Sauté onion and celery in bacon grease. Add cheese and soup and cook until cheese melts. Add salt and pepper. Then add broth and chicken, stirring mixture. Add cooked spaghetti. Turn into greased baking dish. Top with almonds and bake at 350 degrees for 45–50 minutes.

  Chili Spaghetti Casserole

  Submitted by Patty Liu

  8 oz. spaghetti

  1 lb. lean ground beef

  1 med. onion, chopped

  Salt to taste

  Black pepper to taste

  1 can chili with beans, undrained

  1 can Italian-style stewed tomatoes, undrained

  1½ cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided

  ½ cup sour cream

  1½ tsp. chili powder

  ¼ tsp. garlic powder

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a 2 x 9 x13-in. baking dish with Pam Original. Cook pasta according to package directions; drain and place in prepared baking dish. In a large skillet, brown meat and onion; drain. Add salt and pepper and stir in chili, tomatoes, 1 cup of cheese, sour cream, and chili and garlic powders. Add chili mixture to pasta and stir until pasta well coated; sprinkle with remaining cheese. Cover lightly with foil and bake 30 minutes or until hot and bubbly; let stand 5 minutes before cutting into squares.