Bring Home the Murder

by Jarvela, Theresa M. ;

  “It’s hard to believe the mystery surrounding Fred’s death ended the way it did.” Meggie spoke in a low voice. “I’m glad it’s all over. To think Barry Jackson’s ex-wife planned the murder while she was still married to him. And she hired her brother to commit the crime. How cold is that?”

  “She waved money in front of Simon’s face and he jumped at the chance to do her bidding.” Walter shook his head. “And after all Fred did for him, helped him out when he needed it. That’s what greed does to a person.”

  “Jacqueline Jackson used her head when she planned the divorce and the murder,” Meggie added. “She waited until after the deed to ask Barry for a divorce. That way she could cash in on the farm. Obviously, she didn’t want to wait around for Fred to die.”

  “Greed again,” Walter said. “And they almost got away with it.”

  Meggie thought about the documents that turned up in the old hutch. Fred kept contracts on the jobs he hired out. Simon had contracted to fill the old well. Simon bided his time, waited for the right opportunity to get rid of Fred. When that opportunity arose, he took it. He had strangled Fred and tossed him down the well. Then literally covered up his crime.

  All those years he probably worried about someone finding the contract. But it was another piece of evidence the authorities found that would nail his coffin shut. A pair of eyeglasses found at the bottom of the well. The same odd prescription as the eyeglasses he purchased soon after Fred went missing. And the photo of Simon wearing the taped up glasses made it official.

  “I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when he sang like a canary and pointed the finger at his sister.”

  Meggie shook her head to free her mind of cobwebs and shaded her eyes against the sun. According to her calculations they were more than half way to their destination.

  Walter turned off the highway onto a county road. The truck rolled past rows of yellowed cornstalks and empty vegetable stands. Further on two men baled grass hay. The grind and squeal of machinery split the air then faded as the truck sped by.

  She closed her eyes, thought about the fleeting summer and inhaled the fresh scent of autumn. “Nothing is going to spoil this weekend,” she vowed more to herself than to Walter.

  “The weekend I will enjoy. It’s the murder mystery dinner I’m not so sure about.”

  Meggie laughed and thought about the character descriptions they received in the mail from the staff at Shadow Lake Bed and Breakfast. She looked forward to the mystery dinner on Saturday night, but Walter didn’t share her enthusiasm.

  She reached over and tickled his neck. “It’s going to be fun. It’s not every day you get to dress up in costume. And you’re going to be lord of an old English manor where murder and mayhem run rampant.”

  “Murder and mayhem are more your style than mine.” Walter peeked at Meggie from the corner of his eye. “I don’t understand why you want to pretend murder and mayhem when you’ve been through the real deal more times than I care to remember.”

  She couldn’t argue with him on that point, so she chose to say nothing and settled back to enjoy the surrounding countryside. The road wound through a colorful neighborhood of trees touched by warm autumn days and cool nights.

  The birch tree’s golden leaves shimmered in the sun while fiery red maple leaves glowed nearby. Peppered along the road on both sides were impressive oaks. Their branches reached for the sky to show off their reddish-brown leaves. The pines held fast to their deep green color.

  They drove on and soon the landscape changed. Patches of blue peeked through clusters of pine trees then transformed into a choppy body of water, its waves capped in white.

  “Is that Shadow Lake?” Meggie’s body posture perked up.

  “I believe so.” Walter leaned forward, his eyes squinted. “Yes, there’s the sign. Shadow Lake. Now let’s watch for the fire number of the B & B. I think we’re close.”

  “I hope the wind dies down by tomorrow or no boating for us.” She knew her husband would be disappointed if the weather didn’t cooperate this weekend. He had been thrilled when she told him the weekend included use of watercraft. “The forecast said sunny skies and unusually warm September weather for the weekend. Right now it’s seems to be cooling off.” She rolled the passenger window part-way up and slipped her sweater on.

  “I might even try a speed boat if they have one.” Walter leaned forward and rushed his words, “I know it’s too cold for a jet ski but a speed boat will do.”

  A sign on the right side of the road announced Shadow Lake Bed and Breakfast. Walter slowed the truck and turned into the narrow paved drive. The private road sloped around several tall pine trees and ended in front of an imposing two-story house.

  Meggie leaned forward in her seat. “What a beautiful house. It looks just like the pictures I’ve seen of old English manors. Oh, and look at those quaint cabins.”

  Walter pulled up in the parking area and braked the truck. He crawled out, hoisted the piece of luggage over the back end of the vehicle and wheeled it to the front of the truck. He turned to Meggie and offered his arm. “Shall we, my dear?”

  Meggie linked her arm in his. Together they made their way down a brick-lined path to the main entrance of the house, followed by the click clack of rolling luggage. She held the door for her husband and followed him into the house.

  A grand fireplace stood off to the left with a black grate filled with firewood next to it. The scent of lemon oil wafted in the air. The oak floors gleamed. Beyond the fireplace a staircase wound gracefully to the upper floor.

  Antique furnishings displayed throughout the room lent a glimpse of another era. Meggie stopped next to an old fashioned writing desk, lifted the feather pen and signed their names in the guest book.

  At the check-in area a petite middle-aged woman welcomed them and handed Walter a key to the room. She asked if they needed help with their luggage, but Walter declined the offer.

  “You’ll be staying in Pearl’s Room, the largest suite on the second floor. It is our loveliest room. We’re so pleased the Pine Lake Lions Club chose Shadow Lake Bed and Breakfast as grand prize in their drawing.”

  Upstairs, Meggie stepped into a charming room. A rose-patterned bedspread covered a queen-sized bed that graced the center of the room. Matching curtains hung to the side of an enormous window that faced Shadow Lake.

  The top portion of the bedroom walls were papered in a subdued rose pattern with the bottom portion wainscoted. In one corner of the room sat a table for two where guests could enjoy a cup of tea or coffee and gaze out over the blue water.

  Later that evening, Meggie dressed for dinner in a teal-colored dress and slipped on her favorite pair of heels. She glanced in the mirror, fluffed her hair and called to Walter. “I’m ready when you are.” When he didn’t answer she peeked out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the picture window and appeared transfixed by Shadow Lake.

  She joined him at the window and took in the lovely view. Impressive pines framed the spectacle, sentinels over the great body of water. The setting sun cast a shine over the rolling waves. In gentle rhythm they rose and fell until at the end of their journey they lapped against the shore and disappeared forever.

  “Look,” Meggie pointed. “The wooden stairs go all the way down to the beach.” She slipped her arm around Walter and peeked up at him. “How does a romantic walk after dinner sound?”

  Walter agreed with the idea and suggested she take an outer wrap to dinner since the evening might turn chilly. He bent down and pecked her on the cheek. “Madam, I do believe it is time for dinner.”

  After they had eaten dinner, the Moores made their way down the wooden steps to the beach. When they reached the last stair, Meggie pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders, knotted it loosely and hooked her arm with Walter’s. They strolled for a distance until they happened onto
a log bench that faced the lake and looked inviting.

  Meggie pulled her shoes off and set them on the ground beside the bench. She sat down next to Walter, tucked her feet under her and laid her head on his shoulder. A gentle breeze blew off the lake. Its breath rippled the moonlit path on the black water. “Did you know there’s a legend about a lost treasure in Shadow Lake? I read about it in a pamphlet I picked up in the lobby.”

  “You’re kidding. Lost treasure in Shadow Lake?” Walter wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I’ve heard of lost treasure at sea but never in a lake. Sounds like a big story to lure tourists to Shadow Lake.” He patted her arm. “But then, you believe that lakes in Minnesota were formed when Paul Bunyan’s boot tracks filled with rainwater.”

  “Don’t make fun.” Meggie snuggled up to Walter. “I think it sounds exciting.”

  “Excitement seems to be your middle name.”

  No one said anything for a while. Then Meggie broke into laughter.

  Walter wrinkled his nose. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m sorry. But I keep thinking about how Jacqueline and Simon tore out of the farmhouse the night they searched for that box of documents.” She paused. “Shirley still has no idea why she tripped. Maybe Fred’s ghost had something to do with it. If she hadn’t fallen, who knows what would have happened to us.”

  Walter pointed up at the stars. “You never know. Fred might be smiling down on us right now and giving us the high sign.”

  Following a few moments of silence Meggie said, “Talk about romantic.”

  “You mean us?” Walter stroked her arm.

  “No. I mean Fred and Amelia.” Meggie thought about the letter and the ring Fred left inside the wooden heart. “He promised to help Amelia through a divorce and marry her.” She stared down at her own wedding ring. “To think they came so close to finding true happiness.”

  “I imagine it was bittersweet for Amelia when she opened the wooden heart.”

  The evening wore on. Scattered clouds floated over the moon and the sparkling path across the water faded. The breeze had turned to a gusty wind.

  “Well, Mrs. Moore, shall we call it a night?” Walter’s shoulders shook. “And get romantic?”

  The next evening the Moores lingered over drinks in the dining room. One candle flickered in the center of their table. Meggie reached for her husband’s hand and squeezed it. “I thought you made the perfect Lord of the Manor.” Her eyes crinkled. “Even if you turned out to be a cold-blooded killer.”

  Walter grinned and puffed out his chest. “I have to admit I acted way beyond my expectations. Of course, that’s not saying much since I had no expectations.”

  “I see you two seem to be enjoying yourselves.” Shelby Taylor, owner of Shadow Lake Bed and Breakfast edged up to the table. The tall distinguished-looking woman turned to Walter. “I hear you were quite the addition to the mystery dinner tonight.”

  Walter seemed somewhat embarrassed by the praise. He thanked her for the compliment and admitted he enjoyed the event.

  “Don’t forget. We have a delectable breakfast in the morning that you won’t want to miss.”

  After she walked away, Walter glanced at his watch and suggested they head up to their room. “I’ve had a lot of fun this weekend. We should do this more often.”

  The next morning Meggie and Walter finished breakfast and were enjoying a cup of coffee when Shelby Taylor sought them out. “May I sit down for a moment?” she asked.

  When they both invited her to join them, she lowered herself into a chair.

  “I don’t want to impose so I’ll come right to the point. I just received a phone call from my son who lives in Billings. He announced that he’s getting married in June.” She laid her hand on the table and looked at Meggie. “We are going to need someone to look after the bed and breakfast for a short period of time while we attend the wedding.”

  Walter bumped his water glass, but grabbed it before it tipped.

  “A Lion’s Club member told me you housesit on occasion and highly recommended you. Our main concern is that we have someone here to oversee the day-to-day business, make sure everything stays on schedule. Our staff is most dependable, so I don’t anticipate any problems. We want to know we’re leaving our B & B in good hands.”

  Walter’s eyes bored into Meggie’s. He mumbled something about his wife having second thoughts about housesitting.

  “Please think about it, won’t you? Be sure to pick up a business card before you leave. It has all our contact information on it.” She turned to Walter. “If Meggie decides to housesit for us next summer, you are more than welcome to join her.”

  After they returned to their suite, Walter paced back and forth. “You admitted on the drive here you were unsure whether or not you wanted to housesit anymore. I hope you use your head and tell Shelby Taylor no.”

  Meggie hated to see a wonderful getaway end on a sour note. She didn’t need to make a decision today. She could think about it, weigh the pros and cons, and then decide. She was a big girl. She didn’t need her husband to think for her.

  The next morning Walter handed the room key to Shelby Taylor. He thanked her for the hospitality, dropped his gaze to the business cards displayed on the counter and quickly looked away.

  Meggie shook Shelby’s hand, praised the bed and breakfast but made no mention of the housesitting request. She smiled at Walter and nodded. As he turned to go, she reached behind him and picked up a Shadow Lake Bed and Breakfast business card. She tucked it into her purse, glanced up at Shelby and winked.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Angela Foster, editor, and North Star Press. A special thanks to Five Wings Arts Council for awarding me grants, with funds from the McKnight Foundation supplemented with Legacy funds, to further my knowledge of writing.