Death by Association: The Wellington Cozy Mystery series

by M A Comley

  “No, no, I think I will rest a bit at Sal’s and have a good cup of tea and perhaps a biscuit or two. While I mull things over, you know, try to think of ways I might help her, in the event that she decides she would like me to stay with her.”

  “Does that mean you’re comfortable with the idea?”

  “Oh, very much so. You see, it has always been my belief that I was put on this earth for a purpose. I believe I’m meant to help others and in this very special sort of way. You see, I have very few habits and therefore I blend in easily with any household. As I said earlier, this other lady was very similar to Marnie. I understand her hesitation and yet, at the same time, the yearning in her heart to go out at will and be amongst other people. It’s very sad to think that she might end her life alone, never having tried to see if there was something better outside her house that would give her equal or even more pleasure than being at home. It would be my job to help her discover that side of things.”

  “Winnie, I really do hope this works out. I worry about Marnie and it would be a huge load off my mind if I knew someone was there with her. I don’t know her terribly well, but I have known her a long time and at times, I almost feel like she’s a dear aunt, a reclusive one at that. She’d probably be shocked to hear me say that. Listen, I have your number and once I hear from Marnie, I’ll be glad to give you a call.”

  Lucy parked the car outside Sal’s. “That would be wonderful, Lucy. Even if this doesn’t work out, I want you to know it has been a sincere pleasure meeting you and Marnie.” With that, Winnie turned on her heel and went inside Sal’s Sweets for her proposed cup of tea.

  Lucy smiled and nodded, content with herself that she had made the best effort. Now it was up to Marnie.

  Lucy had barely made it inside her kitchen door when her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Hello?”

  It was Marnie. Her voice was light and happy, unlike Lucy had ever heard it before. “I just adored her, Lucy. I think you may have very well saved my life. I look forward to having her stay here. I know it might be a little hard for me at first, but if anyone understands that, I think it would be Winnie.”

  Lucy beamed as if her neighbor was right there with her. “Oh, Marnie, that’s wonderful. I’m delighted you’ve made this decision. When would you like her to move in?”

  “As soon as possible. In fact, I’m about to make out my grocery list. If I knew the kinds of things she preferred to eat, I could include them.”

  “I’ll have to call her and see what she says. Quite honestly, I’m not sure where she’s living right now. As for food, I’m sure that can all be worked out in time. I do happen to know that she’s partial to a nice cup of tea.” Lucy laughed.

  “Of course, Brits love their tea, don’t they? That won’t be a problem at all. I can drink coffee or tea, it doesn’t matter to me. I look forward to you bringing her home.”

  For a second, Lucy’s mind shot back to the moment when Brendon had referred to her house as home. Home was a very powerful word, perhaps even more so when you didn’t have one. “I’ll get back to you soon, Marnie. Goodbye.”

  Lucy phoned Winnie, and just an hour later, picked her up outside of Sal’s and drove her back to Marnie’s house. “Here you are. Your new home. Should I come in with you?”

  “Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll go straight to whatever room she gives me and stay there until I feel she’s relaxed enough for me to come out. I’ve even brought a couple of sandwiches in my bag in case she’s not ready for me to share the kitchen.”

  “Quite the opposite, actually. She wanted to know what food you like to eat as she’s making out her grocery list.”

  “Oh, well, that’s a start. Maybe she’s a good cook and we’ll be able to swap recipes.”

  “You have my phone number and I’m right next door if there are any problems. In fact, if you look through that window there, that’s where I sit at my desk while I write.”

  “It’s good to have that reassurance. I’m sure we’re going to get on like a house on fire. Leave her in my safe hands, Lucy. As I said, I’ve been through this before and I think better times are just around the corner for her. Thank you so much for making this happen. I won’t forget it.”

  With that, Winnie let herself out of Lucy’s car and headed for Marnie’s house. Lucy could hear Winnie’s knock and her sweet voice, asking to be let in.

  She hoped she had done the right thing. She tried hard to forget the frown on Cecilia’s face when she saw Winnie leaving Sal’s place with her.

  11

  Lucy was relaxing on the couch watching TV when she received a call from Brendon that night. “How did your social experiment work out?” he asked.

  “It seemed just fine, but then Marnie is pretty set in her ways, so I’m trying to remain hopeful.”

  “I hope you haven’t gotten yourself into trouble without realizing it. There are a lot of cons out there, you know. And they don’t all look like Italian mob bosses. Some of them look just like Mary Poppins,” he teased her.

  She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say she looked like Mary Poppins, that shows how much you listen. I said she talked like her—but I get what you’re saying and I’m going to keep a keen eye on them. How’s it going with you today? Did you lay down some laws? And how were they received, if you did?”

  “I had a meeting this morning, followed by a press conference. I pretty much laid out what we know and included the information that I wasn’t yet ready to either exonerate or accuse anyone, without mentioning any names, like Dr. Stiltson himself. I figured it was better to get it over with and to tell everyone at the same time. That way, everyone knows where they stand from the outset.”

  “Good thinking. I’m making some chicken salad in the morning. What if I were to make us a couple of sandwiches and we go over to the park during your lunch hour?”

  “It sounds delicious. What time?”

  “You tell me, sometime around one perhaps?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you there unless something crops up in the morning and I have to bail out.”

  “Looking forward to it already.”

  Lucy hung up feeling warm and appreciated. She’d spent every moment since she dropped Winnie off, at her desk, watching for any indication from Marnie’s house that something was not as it should be. That said, lights went on and off as normal which was a relief for Lucy. It wasn’t just that she wanted it to work for Marnie’s sake; deep inside, she didn’t want to give Cecilia James an excuse to say ‘I told you so’. It wasn’t that Lucy didn’t like Cecilia; it was that Cecilia often did churlish things which made people uneasy around her. The other women said it was because she ran a dog rescue and she’d had to develop a thick skin. The thought suddenly occurred to her that some people probably got along better with animals than they did with humans.

  She switched off the TV and went to bed. Removing a book from her nightstand, she snuggled down beneath the covers and was glad she had dug out her flannel sheets. They were much cozier than the cool cotton that was now relegated to the top shelf of the linen closet until springtime. A cup of tea and a few wafer cookies sat on the saucer next to her. It was how she had always envisioned herself, once she knew her marriage was over. Lucy was the kind of woman who looked for a silver lining in even the worst situations. The idea of a quiet evening, a cup of tea, and a good book had gotten her through some very nasty times as the divorce became a stark reality.

  Lucy’s eyes drooped and she dozed off. Moments later, she bolted upright in bed. “What the heck was that?”

  An explosion, identical to the one she’d heard only last week, jolted her. Without putting on her slippers or robe, she ran to her office window and peered out. She couldn’t believe what she saw.

  She raised the window and shouted, “Marnie, Winnie, what are you doing?”

  The two women looked at Lucy who instantly ducked down when she saw they were both waving handguns and laughing madly. “Oh, hello there, L
ucy. Didn’t see you there, darling. Oh, it’s just Marnie and I, having a little fun.”

  “Having a little fun?” Lucy poked her head just above the windowsill. “You’re shooting off guns.”

  “Yes, aren’t we?” Marnie hooted. “Isn’t this wonderful? I found someone just like me!”

  “Oh, you two are in serious trouble.” As she said the words, Lucy noticed lights coming on up and down the street; and soon, she heard a siren in the distance. “You’ve done it now. Marnie, you were warned. Someone has turned you in and it wasn’t me. If I were you two, I’d get my coat on because I think you’re about to take a trip to the police station.”

  With that, Lucy slammed the window shut, indicating how aggrieved she was, and scooted into her own room to get dressed. She knew she was bound to get dragged into the matter, so she may as well be prepared for it.

  By the time Lucy was dressed, shoes on and bound up in her winter coat, a pair of men’s boots crunched across her front yard toward her front door.

  “Lucy? What’s going on here?”

  Lucy sighed with relief. It was Brendon.

  “Don’t ask me. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard the guns go off. I ran to the window and opened it, and there they both were, each one with a revolver in their hand. I told them to put the guns down and that they were in trouble, but they just laughed at me.”

  “Laughed at you? Oh, my God, Lucy. What have you done now?”

  “Me? What have I done? Brendon, weren’t you listening when I told you these two were going to get together?”

  “Apparently not. I heard you are putting two ladies together as companions for one another. You forgot to mention the damn part about them forming their own gang. Now this has to stop. Fortunately, they shot the guns into the air and no one was hurt, but it could have been an entirely different story. They could’ve even shot through your bedroom wall and killed you.”

  Lucy glared at him and snapped, “You think I don’t know that? I’m no happier about this than you are. But don’t try to pin the blame on me.” She took a steadying breath before asking, “What are you going to do with them?”

  “Marnie has already been warned once. Winnie, I’m not sure what happens with her. She’s not an American citizen. For all I know, I may have to call in the Feds; she might even be sent back to the U.K.”

  Lucy sighed, her anger subsiding a little. “That would be a shame. Or, you could give them another warning, confiscate their weapons and look the other way, this time.”

  “Lucy…” She could hear the testiness in his voice.

  “Oh, don’t get all fussy, Brendon. I trust you. I know you will handle this appropriately. I get it—you can’t have people shooting off guns in the village. You have to admit, though, Marnie has made a new friend and my plan may have worked better than I expected.”

  “Your plan… That’s all you’re getting from this?”

  “Let’s not argue about this, shall we?” She attempted a smile to break down his barrier.

  “I don’t have time to argue with you. My hands are full. These two are going in with me. Whether they come home tonight or not after I’ve given them a talking to, is another matter.”

  “Just remember, Marnie doesn’t like being out the house. She’s liable to go into some kind of hysteria. She may even become combative. If she does, just remember she can’t control it. It’s a mental disorder she’s living with.”

  “Then maybe the county mental hospital would be a better place for her.”

  “Oh, Brendon, no. Don’t do that to her. They have no choice but to shoot her up with drugs, and she’ll become like a zombie. It’ll go through courts and she could lose her house and be put in the custody of the state. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  He groaned. “Damn! Go back to bed. I’ll handle this.”

  Lucy went inside, turning out her lights as though she was going to bed, but she slouched down in her office chair in the dark to follow what was going on. She heard men’s voices—Brendon’s being the loudest and with the greatest authority. There were two, high-pitched female voices and Lucy recognized that Marnie was crying. She’d warned Brendon it would be hard, that Marnie would fight not to leave.

  Lucy sat up to get a better look and lay her window curtain over her face to cover everything but her eyes. She finally got it positioned just right, and then heard Brendon’s voice boom, “Go to bed, Lucy. I’ve got this!”

  “Dang it,” she muttered and returned to her seat on the floor, still intent on listening to what was being said. It wasn’t so clear, but at least she could make out one squad car leaving and she presumed that meant Brendon was the only one left behind. It would now be totally up to him how to handle the situation. She hoped he took pity on the women and wouldn’t drag them over hot coals.

  Lucy heard Marnie pleading, “Please, officer, don’t make me go in. I’m so, so scared. You can have my gun. I promise I will never do anything like this again.”

  Then she heard Winnie issue the same plea. Brendon was authoritative, but calm. She distinctly heard him ask them to turn in their weapons which they must’ve done without argument because a short time later, she heard Marnie’s front door shut firmly and then Brendon’s car door slam. His car then backed out and he drove away.

  Peace had been restored. Marnie and Winnie had been given a second chance. She just hoped that they had learned their lesson. One thing she knew for sure, she was going to hear about it from Brendon for months to come.

  12

  Lucy slept in the next morning, but when she arose, it was with determination to work on her book. She knew she was under a timeline to get it done, a self-imposed timeline, for the simple reason that she would eventually run out of money to support herself. It was all on her shoulders to knuckle down. She needed to avoid any more distractions with the neighbors and let Marnie and Winnie work things out for themselves.

  She dressed in a pair of loose sweats, her hair pinned up in the back with a barrette and her librarian’s glasses perched on the tip of her nose. It was her way of preventing herself from running out to the store for a bag of chips or some other sweet treat that she would be tempted to eat rather than write. She had been working long enough to recognize her own weaknesses, and snacking when she was stressed was the biggest of them all.

  Lucy opened her top drawer and withdrew a stack of index cards and a sharpie marker. With these laid out in neat rows across her desk, she began to write her own outline; something she swore she didn’t need, but was finally conceding was important. Without it, she recognized her level of self-discipline would never permit her to finish an entire book before she ran out of money. There was no other option. It was awkward at first; and several times, she gathered up the cards and threw them in the trash, only to go back a few minutes later and fish them out, and flatten them on her desk. Anybody who thought that writing was easy, had obviously never written. That much was apparent.

  Every thirty minutes, Lucy pushed her chair back and stood, stretched her hands toward the ceiling and rolled her shoulders. Stretching felt good; and according to what she’d read, keeping the blood supply flowing was critical for her mind to remain sharp and fully functional. It made sense, and that’s why she succumbed; plus, it gave her a short break—usually long enough to go into the kitchen and snag a new cup of coffee and a cookie.

  She began to think about her outlining as a sort of production line in a factory. At the beginning of the line was the blank index card and at the end was the final one, filled out with intrinsic pieces of the puzzle. Looking at it in a logical way allowed her to choose the points where the arcs of the story would hit. She thought of them as the diamond-shaped arrows on the bowling lane. Once you understood how to consistently throw the ball, if you aimed for a particular combination of diamonds, the ball always ended up going where it was supposed to go. She realized it was like so many other things in life. If you go from point A to point B knowing where point B lies, the journey
is shorter and more efficient. Her creative tendencies wanted her to deny this—to be more avant-garde, and to allow her creativity to flow. Perhaps that worked for wealthy, educated young men who studied in their father’s law library and pretended to be an author. But for her, it was going to be the factory method she hoped would do the trick and get her inspiration sparking out of control.

  Every so often, she would hear a noise next door and her head would immediately turn to see what was going on. She noticed a great deal of loud female chatter, laughter, loud bumps against the outside wall. She searched her mind and came to the conclusion they must be either moving furniture or relocating some of Marnie’s boxes of treasure.

  At one point, the front door opened and empty boxes were flung outside, landing in a large pile on the path. Apparently, they had begun to un-box items and put them away.

  Once Marnie and Winnie had finished for the day, Lucy watched in amazement as the door burst open and Winnie emerged, wrapped in her winter clothing and boots. With an unearthly scream like an Indian, she began dancing around the pile and then over the top of it, smashing the boxes flat with her boot heels. Marnie stood in the doorway, peals of laughter ringing out at the obvious entertainment. Lucy was enthralled and watched as Marnie held out a butane lighter and Winnie snatched at it, only to set fire to the pile of boxes.

  Luckily, there was enough snow still on the ground to prevent the fire from spreading, and because it was daytime, anyone watching the bizarre scene might have reported them for starting a forbidden fire in the village. The fire burned quickly and the smoke died down soon after. Winnie threw both hands into the air, hooted loudly in triumph, and then went back inside with Marnie.