Death by Association: The Wellington Cozy Mystery series

by M A Comley

  During all the excitement, Lucy used the camera in her phone to photograph the women’s antics. She couldn’t wait to show the girls down at Sal’s Sweets, fearing they might not take her word without photographic evidence as proof. Unfortunately, Brendon had excused himself from their lunch date, far too busy to attend, he’d told her.

  When things eventually died down, Lucy felt it was safe enough to grab a shower and head down to Sal’s, armed with her photographic proof.

  She pulled into the parking lot and entered. Sal turned from the vat of donut batter she was mixing as she approached the counter. “A little late in the day for you, isn’t it?”

  Lucy slapped her phone down. “You won’t believe what you’re going to see in these pictures.”

  Sal inclined her head. “Why? Did a flying saucer land in your front yard?” she quipped.

  “No, not quite, but something almost as unbelievable.” She tapped her camera app and brought up the photo album, flipping through the shots until she came to those where Winnie, dressed in her winter finery, was lighting the pyre. Lucy had shot some of the activity with video, so they were able to listen as well.

  “I’ll be darned,” was all that Sal could say. “Dan, come here, take a look at this, will you?”

  Dan shook his head, but said nothing. Sal shut off her dough machine and came around the counter. Together, she and Lucy joined the other ladies at their table. “Girls, I want you to see this,” Sal said, gesturing for Lucy to replay it and pass the phone around.

  There were gasps and giggles.

  “You were right, Lucy. They are great together. I’ve never heard Marnie laugh like that.”

  “But this isn’t the worst of it,” Lucy told them. “Last night, they each got a gun and were hanging out the side window, shooting them into the air. Someone called the police, and I gave Brendon a sob story and he let them off with a warning, but took their guns away. I’m afraid they have become quite the raucous neighbors.”

  “As for me, I think it’s funny.” Sal slapped Lucy soundly on the back. “I think you did a good thing.”

  Lucy shook her head, huge doubts filling her mind. “I hope you’re right. I fear I may have opened Pandora’s box.”

  “It looks to me like Winnie just burned it,” muttered Cecilia in her typical obtuse fashion.

  Overall, she seemed to be the only one who found the pictures disturbing. Maybe she was looking at Marnie and Winnie’s new relationship in the wrong way. She sighed, perhaps she should be rejoicing in the fact that Marnie was indeed coming out of her shell under Winnie’s guidance.

  She left Sal’s slightly confused. At home, she drifted into her office and glanced down at the progress she’d made during her productive day. A neat stack of scenes, that when added up, would be her first book. She retired to bed with a hot chocolate, satisfied by her day’s work, finally.

  The next morning, Lucy set out on a mission to bake a celebratory batch of chocolate chip cookies, intended for Marnie and Winnie. She wanted to hear from them what Brendon had said and to make sure they understood the gravity of what they had done. She also wanted to mention that if she hadn’t intervened on their behalf, they might be sitting in jail at that very moment.

  While the cookies were baking, she saw Sylvia’s car pull into the drive. The woman got out, arms loaded with bags of groceries, and it took her four trips to get them all onto the porch. As Lucy watched, she raised the rubber welcome mat and removed the envelope of money like she usually did.

  Lucy saw the front door open and a woman’s arm extend outward. She watched on in surprise, because Marnie generally let Sylvia leave her drive before she opened the door and bring in the bags. She was further surprised when it was Winnie who emerged from the house, but not to pick up the bags. Instead, Winnie shouted at Sylvia as she was leaving the driveway. Sylvia stopped, put the car back into park, and exited the car again. Sylvia walked back toward the house, a smile on her face to welcome her new neighbor. Winnie, however, was not smiling. She folded her arms, and by the way she rocked her head from left to right, it was fairly obvious to anyone watching that Winnie was very unhappy. In fact, the look on Sylvia’s face switched from welcome to something akin to fear; she swiftly turned on her heel, got back into her car, and left. Lucy wondered what that was all about. It bothered her.

  Lucy got dressed. As soon as the cookies were ready to come out of the oven, she got bundled up to combat the cold and ventured next door, her offering in hand.

  “Marnie, it’s Lucy,” she said as she opened the outer storm door and waited. It was Winnie who opened the door.

  “Lucy, what can I do for you today?” Winnie said brightly.

  “I thought I’d bring these by and have a little chat.” She held the platter out in Winnie’s direction.

  “Oh, I see. I wish you’d have called first. Marnie is lying down. She got very upset last night about that officer friend of yours. As a matter of fact, he was quite rude. Do you know that he threatened to take her to jail?”

  Lucy used her hip to push the door fully open and walked past Winnie. She found an open seat nearby and sat down. “I’m sorry that Marnie isn’t up to receiving guests, so I’ll have to ask you to pass this along. He was within his rights to have a go; you aren’t permitted to shoot a gun in this village.”

  Winnie glared and crossed her arms. “That’s what your rather tiresome boyfriend said.”

  “He isn’t tiresome. You’re lucky he didn’t arrest you both. You might both be going before a judge today if he’d had his way. It was only through my intervention that he took pity on Marnie because of her condition and chose to simply confiscate your weapons instead.”

  “But the weapons belonged to Marnie. They weren’t his to take.”

  Lucy thrust her shoulders back, trying to exert her authority. “Winnie, I’m not here to confront you. From everything I can see so far, you and Marnie seem to be getting along very well. I’m happy about that. But I still have a fondness for her, and I’ll continue to look out for her. If you’re not familiar with the laws here, I suggest you take the time to learn them. You’ve only been with her for a couple of days, and your antics have already nearly landed the pair of you in jail. Weapon charges are significant, in case you don’t know. It would be very upsetting for Marnie to be confined for any length of time, and a judge would have been fully within his rights to order a longer jail sentence. This is serious stuff.”

  “I understand. I apologize.”

  “Whose idea was it, anyway?”

  “To be frank, it was my idea. Marnie had shared with me the story of her shooting at the burglar the night you came to her aid, and how she had shot out the window at him. It had shaken her up badly and I could see the incident was still troubling her. So I suggested we pull out her gun and shoot it again without a burglar being involved.”

  Lucy shook her head in disbelief. “Why, Winnie? I’m surprised at you. What a foolish thing to do. Marnie knew the first time she did it that she could get into serious trouble. Didn’t she tell you that she was warned? Hang on, her gun was confiscated. Don’t tell me she had others lying around here.”

  “She did. We forgot about the warning. You have no idea what is going on in that head of hers.”

  Lucy was willing to concede that she didn’t have a clue, not really. “Okay, I hear you. Please, learn from this mistake and don’t let it happen again.”

  “I can’t, since your boyfriend confiscated our guns, again.”

  “And well he should have.” She bit back a further response and looked around; she could see that they had made some progress with regard to the boxes that used to clutter the hallway. “I saw you doing your little dance around the fire,” she pointed out.

  “And?” Winnie’s expression turned to one of defiance.

  Lucy wondered then if she had made a huge mistake putting the women in touch with each other. It also dawned on her that Winnie was the exact opposite of Marnie. While Marnie was restric
ted with fear, Winnie apparently reveled in not having any.

  Perhaps if they lived together long enough, it would help both of them and their personalities would meet in the middle.

  Maybe it was because she wanted to believe that could happen, or because there were no other options available at the moment, but she was willing to let it go.

  “That’s another thing, you’re not allowed to make a fire within the village limits. You’re lucky you weren’t caught. I wouldn’t test Brendon’s patience further if I were you. If you have a question whether something is legal or not, I’d suggest calling the police department to ask them. Now that’s the soundest advice I can give you.” She stood and added, “I have to go home now, I’m working on my book today. Be sure and let Marnie know that I was here and that I expressed my concerns. If she needs me, she knows how to reach me.”

  “Thank you again for bringing the cookies,” Winnie said, her face restored to the Mary Poppins sweetness. “So very thoughtful of you.”

  “You’re quite welcome.” Lucy headed to the door, but paused with her hand on the knob. “One more thing… I noticed this morning that Sylvia brought groceries, just a few minutes before I arrived, actually. I saw you walk out and exchange words with her and they didn’t look very friendly from where I was sitting.”

  “I wasn’t aware that you were watching our every move. Don’t you think we deserve some privacy?”

  “Winnie, I put my neck on the line for you. As I’ve told you before, Marnie is very special to me, and to the other ladies in the village. We don’t know much about you, and you must admit you didn’t provide us with references. I’m not questioning who you are, but I am saying that we have a way of doing things here and Marnie understands the rules. We wouldn’t look kindly upon someone who broke those rules. Understand what I’m saying?”

  Winnie’s lips had thinned into a firm line and her cheeks flushed. When she responded, it was with clipped syllables. “Quite. Good day to you, Lucy.”

  Lucy nodded without saying another word. She left and went home. Although she spent the rest of the day deeply consumed with her writing, she did pause from time to time to look over at Marnie’s house and wondered what was going on behind the closed door. While she had always felt sorry for Marnie being alone, the idea that someone else was there who might be encouraging her to do things that weren’t quite right was unsettling.

  “I need to mind my own business,” Lucy said aloud and went back to writing her book.

  13

  Life settled back into a routine, at least from Lucy’s point of view. She fell into a disciplined schedule that meant rising at seven in the morning. After showering and eating breakfast, she would be at the computer by nine. Bed-making was optional, and she wore the same clothes two, maybe three days in a row, except for her underwear, which she changed daily. Brendon called a few times to make sure she was okay, but she kept her conversations short.

  “I’m in the groove and don’t want to break my concentration,” she told him.

  “Better that you spend all your time writing than studying, and I guess you know who I mean by that.”

  “I’m doing really well on the book,” Lucy said, choosing to ignore the second half of his comment.

  “Okay, I get the hint. I’ll let you get back to it. Call me when you take a break. Okay?”

  “Sure thing.” Lucy tapped the phone off and let it slip in between pages spread across her desk. To her immense surprise, she discovered she actually could work better from an outline. Outlining the project successfully kept her on track.

  She was a solid week into the book; Lucy hadn’t left the house, not even to get groceries in that time. She came to the conclusion that to go shopping would take up too much of her precious time. Lucy had a niggling feeling that if she broke from her routine, she’d be lost again. So she ordered a delivery and emptied her freezer.

  From time to time, she was tempted to take a break and watch the house next door, but she resisted the urge to go over to check on them. She didn’t want to be a reason for causing a wedge between the two women; not only that, she had work to do.

  Finally, by Saturday afternoon, Lucy called Brendon. “Are you up for an indoor picnic tonight?”

  “Indoor picnic?”

  “Thought I’d make burgers and a fruit salad. We can sit on the living room floor and pretend it’s a few months from now when the flowers are blooming, the sun is warm and maybe, just maybe, my book is done.”

  “Sounds ideal. I’ll bring some chips and sodas.”

  “Perfect. See you when you get here.”

  “Hey?” he said, preventing her from hanging up.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you like to do this differently and maybe this time you come over to my place?”

  She smiled and her cheeks warmed. “I’d love to. I’ll bring the supplies and what I’ve prepared and come over to your place then.”

  “It’s a deal. I’ll still grab the chips and soda.”

  “Good—see you soon.”

  Lucy disconnected, and a trickle of excitement coursed through her. Although she had been with Brendon once or twice when he needed to pick up something from his place, she’d never been invited to stay. She read his invite as them taking another step forward in their relationship. She placed her phone on the hall table.

  Excited, she pulled down the attic ladder and went up to find the picnic basket. The attic gave her the creeps. It was filled with spiders and dust—two things she detested the most in this world. She finally spotted the basket stacked in the back corner, along with the inflatables and other toys she used to have fun down by the ocean. They hadn’t seen the light of day since her divorce. It just never seemed fun to venture down to the shore on her own.

  She heard a noise and recognized the sound of a door being slammed. “Hello? Who’s there? I’m up here. I won’t be long. I’m in the attic.”

  Grabbing the basket, Lucy began to climb over piles of garbage bags filled with old books, a sewing machine and excess dishes and cooking pots.

  “Hello?” she shouted a second time.

  With horror, Lucy saw that the trap door to the attic was closed, the ladder tucked back up into the attic space. Did the ladder snap up on its own? I’m sure I heard the door bang. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  There was no response. Lucy looked around for something to hold onto and spied a length of ski rope at the back. It was left from the days when she and Mark would go for trips on his uncle’s boat. When the uncle died, he left the boat to Mark, but her ex had quickly sold it and gone off on a three-day motorcycle jaunt with the money. It was something they’d never spoken about since and had remained a sore spot right up until their divorce.

  Lucy dug her way to the back of the attic and snagged the rope. She tied it around a post and then around her waist, keeping a hand on it. Gingerly, she took a step onto the center of the trap door, attempting to push it downward.

  It wouldn’t give.

  She sat down and put both feet closer to where it was hinged and tried again. No movement whatsoever. It didn’t take her long to gather the door was somehow locked, or blocked, although she couldn’t imagine how.

  “Hello?” she shouted again.

  There was still no response.

  Could it be possible that whoever had entered the house had purposefully locked her in?

  Taking deep breaths to fight the rising panic, Lucy realized she was rapidly getting chilled in the unheated attic space. There were no clothes up there, but she did see the corner of an old sleeping bag that had belonged to Mark. She tugged at it until it came loose, then she zipped it open and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  It was beginning to grow dark, the light coming through the angled roof vents practically non-existent. Only half the attic was floored—beginning with where you ascended the ladder to the one wall at the south end of the house. Lucy sighed in resignation when she figured out the way the houses on her street wer
e angled, the roof vent faced an open field.

  She pulled the sleeping bag tighter, and forced herself to remain calm. Suddenly, in the distance, she heard a siren. To her great relief, it was coming closer and closer—until it was directly outside her house. She gave whoever was driving it a few moments until they’d left the vehicle and then began screaming.

  “Help! Help! I’m in the attic. This is Lucy! In the attic of the blue house! Help me! I’m locked in up here.”

  “Lucy?”

  Relief flooded her as she heard Brendon’s voice. “Yes! Brendon! Come get me. Come inside.”

  The very next moment, his voice was coming from directly below her. “Lucy? What are you doing up there?”

  “I thought I’d come up here and have a picnic.” Growling she added, “Brendon, just open the damn door and let me out. Please?”

  Light flooded the attic as the door and stairs were drawn downward by a pair of strong arms. Brendon’s head popped up through the opening and Lucy threw herself at him. She was crying with relief.

  “You’re freezing. We need to get you warmed up, and fast.” He spoke into his shoulder mic, calling for a medic and mentioning possible hypothermia. Lucy could only feel Brendon’s arms wrapping her against his chest and the utter loving relief she felt in being there.

  Despite her chattering teeth, Lucy lifted her head to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong? Why the sirens?”

  Immediately, she saw darkness creep over his face. “I don’t have the details, but we got a call that a body was found.”

  “Body?” She was instantly on the alert. “Whose body?”

  “Lucy, I don’t know. It’s not next door, if that’s what you’re thinking. Someone on the other side of the street. I was attending the incident; I heard you cry out for help and decided to check to see if you were okay. I’m glad I did. Are you alright?”

  “Whose body?” she repeated, pleased to see her reporter brain still functioning properly, at least.

  A man with a metallic space blanket approached them and Brendon handed her over to him and left the house without answering her. The blanket helped to bring her body temperature up. The medic settled her on her sofa and after checking her vital signs, he too left. She showed him to the door, insisting that she was feeling a lot better even though she was struggling to control the shivering. She left the front door unlocked and the porch light on. She hoped Brendon would return and let her know what was going on. She felt confused.