Jack had called my home at 7 PM while I was at the book club meeting. I hadn’t given him my number, but he could have found it in a telephone book or online. What had he wanted? Was it related to his assignation that evening, or had he been calling about something else? Had he wanted to talk about Ben? Maybe he wanted to see Ben to apologize for missing his graduation. It bothered me to think that I would never know the reason for his call. If only Jack had left a message.
As far as I knew, the police had made no headway in discovering where Jack had been murdered. Even if Jack had been shot as late as 9 PM, the killer would have had at least a half an hour to dispose of his body before I found it around 9:45. The murder might have taken place in Calgary, on the set in Longview, or in a multitude of other locations, including right here in Crane. Still, the location must have been pretty private since no one had reported seeing Jack after he left Amy’s house. It was if he had disappeared off the face of the earth the moment he drove out of her garage.
Finally, I knew that someone was trying to set me up, someone who had been watching me and knew that I always took Wendy for a walk on Wistler Road before bed. The murderer also knew my history with my ex-husband. It had to be someone I knew, or someone intimate enough with Jack to know about me. Had the murderer also known about the insurance policy? The life insurance made me the most obvious person to profit from Jack’s death, but that didn’t mean that someone else didn’t profit as well, either financially or in some other way. If so, I was sure that Tremaine would find out.
I had learned a lot since Jack had died, but I was no closer to figuring out who had murdered him. I decided to leave it alone for a while, hoping that my subconscious would come up with something if I let the whole problem stew. Checking my watch, I discovered that we had been walking for forty-five minutes already, with Wendy running back now and then to check on me. Here she was again with a stick in her mouth and her belly matted with mud.
“What have you got there, puppy?” I asked. She dropped the stick at my feet and sat down, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. We played fetch all the way back into town. When we got home, I spent an hour combing out her thick fur and giving her a bath. I dried her off with old towels dedicated to that purpose and left her out on the deck to finish drying, going back to clean the sand out of the bathtub.
Focussing on these mundane tasks enabled me to decide what to do next. There was only one other woman in this part of the world who had any history with Jack, and that was the stuntwoman, Jessie Wick. I had nothing else to go on, so I decided to find out more about her. Unfortunately, that meant asking for Amy’s help again. It troubled me to keep asking her for help when she so obviously didn’t want anything more to do with Jack’s murder. Besides, the film people might get irritated if she asked too many questions about Jack, and fire her from the movie. Worse, Amy’s curiosity might draw the attention of the murderer. I surely didn’t want to put her life in danger, but what could I do?
Then I had a brainwave. If Jessie were a Longview native and not just brought in especially for the film, Erna Dombrosky might know something about her or her family. It was worth a shot, particularly since this was Jessie’s second movie in Longview. That might be a coincidence, or she might live around here.
Tomorrow was Sunday. I would invite Erna over for lunch and see if she knew anything about Jessie Wick.
Chapter Sixteen
As it turned out, Erna was free to have lunch with me after church the next day, and we spent a pleasant quarter of an hour ambling back to my house. At seventy-five, Erna’s step was still sprightly. She knew everyone in town, including the more recent additions to the subdivision, and nodded or exchanged a word with everyone we passed while still managing to hold up her end of the conversation. Erna’s hair was snowy white, and she wore it in a tight bun. Her clothes were from an earlier era of cardigan sweaters, wool skirts, and single strand pearls, probably left over from her days as a high school teacher. I wondered if her old-maidish appearance was an intentional disguise to hide a mind keen as a steel trap and eyes that never missed a thing. I wasn’t kidding when I had suggested to May that she and Erna should open a detective agency together.
Wendy was waiting for us when I unlocked the front door and we stepped inside. Erna bent down until she was eye-level with my dog. “Good morning, Wendy. How are you today?” she asked.
Wendy sat down and extended a paw to our visitor. Erna took it and gave it two solemn shakes before turning to smile at me. “I see that Wendy still remembers the little trick I taught her when I looked after her last summer. Such an intelligent dog.”
“You made a big impression on her, Erna. She doesn’t behave nearly as well for me.”
“Children and dogs both need discipline, dear. Maintaining high expectations usually has a beneficial effect – it gives our charges something to live up to.” She reached down and stroked Wendy’s sleek head. “Yes, you’re a good girl,” she crooned.
“Please come through to the kitchen, Erna,” I asked, gesturing for her to walk ahead of me. “I have some home-made potato salad and cold cuts. Can I make you some tea, or would you prefer something cold to drink?”
“Tea would be just fine, Anna. Oh, what pretty flowers you have on your table. Did you get them from May?”
We chatted while I put water on to boil and arranged potato salad, meat, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and rolls on the table. Erna was fond of dill pickles and pearl onions, and I had a dish of them ready for her.
Erna watched me move about the kitchen. “So, how did Ben do in his first year of university, Anna?” she asked.
“Actually, better than I had imagined,” I replied as I pre-warmed the tea pot. “His grades were pretty decent, and he seemed to stay on top of things. That couldn’t have been easy with roommates, a part-time job, and an active social life.”
“He always seemed level-headed to me, Anna. You’ve raised him well, even with having to uproot him so frequently. Not to mention the trouble you had with your ex-husband. How is he handling his father’s death, by the way?”
I brought the tea to the table to steep. “He’s pretty angry about the whole thing, to tell you the truth, Erna. You know how disappointed Ben was with his father, and now he blames Jack for being murdered, too. It wasn’t a very respectable way to go, from Ben’s point of view, and there’s all the notoriety surrounding the case, too.”
“I’m afraid that we don’t all die peacefully in our beds, Anna.”
I smiled ruefully. “No, and Jack was never destined for an honourable end. Of course, it didn’t help that the RCMP sergeant questioned Ben about his whereabouts on the night Jack was killed.”
“Sergeant Tremaine, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s right. Have you met him, Erna?”
“As a matter of fact, he stopped by when I was reading the newspaper out on my front porch last Tuesday.”
“Checking on my alibi with the book club, I suppose?”
“That’s right, dear. He was very particular about the time you left the library. I told him that I did not see your car in the parking lot when I came in, and since I came in after you did, it was evident that you did not drive your car to the library that night.”
“Thanks, Erna, you’re a wonder. I don’t know how you remember all these details.”
Erna grinned a Cheshire-cat kind of smile. “Of course, you could have parked your car on a side street and I wouldn’t have seen it, but I didn’t mention that to the sergeant.”
I grinned back. “Thank you. I appreciate you keeping that to yourself.”
“Now tell me, dear – I understand that you’re investigating the murder on your own?”
I stopped smiling and raised my eyebrows. “How did you hear that?”
“Amy Bright did my hair yesterday. She was still upset by what happened at the Primos’ house, and felt that she could confide in me. I marvel at your bravery, Anna.”
“More like foolhardiness, you mean.
I just hope that the Primos never find out that I searched their house and took their gun. But now that Amy has spilled the beans, I wonder if you can help me with something, Erna?”
“I’d be more than happy to help you, dear. What can I do for you?” she asked, putting down her fork and giving me all of her attention.
“I don’t know if you heard about it at the time, but Jack was seeing a woman on the film that brought us here four years ago. She was a stunt woman called Jessie Wick. Jack’s affair with Jessie was ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’ for me.”
“Yes, I did hear something about it at the time, Anna,” she said. “I’m afraid that it was common knowledge around town.”
I shook my head. “It’s true – ‘the wife is always the last to know.’ Anyway, I wondered if you knew anything about Jessie Wick?”
“Oh yes, Anna, I know quite a bit about Jessie and her family,” Erna said. “They still have a ranch south of Longview. It belonged to her mother’s people. Let me organize my thoughts for a moment, and I’ll tell you what I remember.” She tapped one finger against her cheek while I waited for her to begin.
“Jessie’s father was Randolph Wick. He grew up on a ranch somewhere in the north-western United States before joining the Marines to fight in the Korean War. He did quite well, as I remember, attaining the rank of captain. When the war was over, he left the Marines and wandered around the United States and Canada for a few years. Men often get wanderlust after they’ve fought in a war, I’ve heard. Randolph ended up here in the Foothills, where he worked as a ranch hand for the Washburn family. Jessie’s mother, Carol, was their only daughter, and quite a bit younger than Randolph. She’s still alive, you know, living in a nursing home. She had a stroke about five years ago. I heard that Randolph was a good-looking man with a certain rough charm when he was a young man. Apparently he swept Carol right off her feet. She had a brother who wasn’t interested in the ranch – I believe that he became a lawyer in Toronto. At any rate, Carol and Randolph married and ran the ranch for her father until they inherited it following his death. They had two children – Jessie and her brother, Gregory.
Now, Jessie was always the apple of her father’s eye. She used to ride the range with him when she was just a wee thing not yet old enough to be in school. As she grew up, Jessie became quite a horsewoman and participated in local rodeo competitions, always winning her events. She also became a beauty queen before she finished high school. She was a pretty girl – tall, good figure, with the most striking long, blue-black hair. Oh yes, she had many admirers and got into the usual scrapes. She was a wanderer, like her father, and wanted to leave home. That’s when she got the idea of becoming an actress. When Randolph died about fifteen years ago, she headed for Toronto. I understand that she got some work in movies and television – mostly minor roles, as I remember. She wasn’t able to make a very good living in Ontario, so she came back here to the ranch. Her brother Gregory was running it, and welcomed her home. The ranch has a big family house – the kind that is designed for multi-generations – and she stays there and helps when she can’t find film work. But she inherited a home from her father – a cabin that he built on the Elbow River in Kananaskis Country. She spends a fair amount of time there by herself. And that’s all that I can tell you about Jessie and her family.”
I stared at Erna in amazement. “Erna, how do you know so much about the Wick family?”
She smiled. “I’ve belonged to a bird-watching club with her mother’s sister for the past twenty years. You hear a lot about people’s families when you’re tramping through the woods together. That, and I have always had a strong memory for detail.”
“Do you happen to know where Jessie’s cabin is?”
“You’re in luck, Anna. A group of us went bird-watching near the cabin a year ago, and Jessie’s aunt pointed it out on the way. If you have a road map, I believe that I can show you how to find it.”
I hurried to find my map and wrote down the directions that Erna gave me. When we were done, Erna poured herself some tea and settled back into her chair. “And how are you coping with the murder investigation, dear? I’ve been worried about you – you seemed quite nervy when I saw you at The Diner last Monday. It must have been very unpleasant to discover your ex-husband’s body.”
I smiled wanly and shrugged. “It was a nightmare, Erna – literally. I’ve been having bad dreams ever since.”
Erna patted my arm. “I’m not surprised, dear. It must have been a very traumatic experience.”
“Yes, and it’s raised all kinds of memories that I thought I had laid to rest. Being married to Jack was like a rollercoaster ride, you know? All ups and downs. We were so terribly happy in the beginning. It still makes me sad to think of how it all ended.” Erna tutted and shook her head.
“I kick myself for marrying Jack in the first place, you know? Watching him around other women, it was obvious that he was never going to be faithful to me, no matter how much I loved him. I couldn’t change him.”
Erna sighed. “My dear, I’ve heard that regret voiced by so many other women.”
“Oh, I know, Erna. I’m not the only person to ever marry badly. But there’s something that always bothered me about those days, something that I’ve never told anyone but my mother. She’s gone now. I’ve been thinking about Jack so much over the past week – would you mind if I talked to you about it? It’s like a cut that’s re-opened. I would feel better if I could talk to someone about it.”
“Go ahead, dear, if you like, though we’ve all done things we’re ashamed of.” Erna shook her head and stared down at the table, and I wondered what stories she could tell.
“Well, I was just so green and stupid, Erna. You see, I was only twenty the first time Jack cheated on me. It was with an eighteen year old actress he was working with. She was a child, really, and the whole thing was so stupid. How could he have betrayed our marriage for something so worthless? It wasn’t as if he were in love with her, either. Anyway, I wanted to get back at him, to hurt him like he had hurt me and, of course, my pride had taken a beating. I wanted to feel desirable again, to prove to Jack that other men still wanted me, even if he didn’t.”
“So you had an affair?” Erna asked, her sharp eyes watching me.
“Actually, no I didn’t. Something stopped me. Don’t misunderstand me, I was no saint, and I was very tempted. There was a young actor I was working with. We had met at a scene study class, and he had always had a bit of a crush on me. He was totally different from Jack – slender, sensitive, a very sweet boy. So, on the night I found out about Jack, I went out for a drink with him and poured out all my troubles. I even went home with him because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Jack alone back at our apartment. We kissed a little, but that was as far as things went. Jack and I had made wedding vows to each other, and even if he broke his, I wasn’t going to break mine.
Erna leaned toward me across the table. “A few kisses aren’t anything to be ashamed of after all this time, Anna.”
“No, but that’s not what’s bothering me, Erna. I didn’t cheat on Jack, but I told him that I did. I lied to him to get even. I had adored him, would have done anything for him, but I turned into a manipulative bitch to make him suffer. I let the lie go on for a month, coming and going at odd hours, making him sleep on the couch, pretending that I was talking on the phone with my lover. After that, the whole thing made me feel so sick that I told him the affair was over. He was desperate to have me back. He said that he still loved me, that we had both made mistakes, but that it didn’t matter anymore. So, it worked. I got him back, and I thought I had won. If I had had half a brain, I would have broken it off with him then and there. But I didn’t. I still loved him too much. We made up, and I never told Jack the truth. He died thinking that I had cheated on him.”
Erna stared at me for a moment and I blushed, wondering if my confession had made her think less of me. “Did you ever tell Ben that story, Anna?” she asked.
“What? No, never. I would be too embarrassed to tell Ben. Besides, it was so long ago, before he was born.”
“But don’t you see, Anna, telling him that you lied to Jack might make all the difference in the world to Ben. You said that he was still angry with his father. As a matter of fact, Ben’s been angry ever since I’ve known him. Do you remember the trouble he used to get into?
“Yes, he used to act out around his birthdays and at Christmas because Jack never came to see him. Do you remember the Christmas that he shoplifted at May’s store? He might have had a juvenile record if she had called the police.”
Erna nodded. “Yes, I remember. But can’t you see that Jack might have had a reason for being such a poor father?”
I stared at her. “What are you talking about? What reason could he have had for not seeing his own son for four years?”
Erna took hold of my hand. “Because he might have doubted that Ben was his son.” I shook my head, and she took a firmer grip. “Think about it Anna. You told me once that you were twenty-one when you had Ben.” I nodded. “Well, you told your husband that you had had an affair when you were twenty. Maybe he thought you were pregnant by your lover.” I covered my mouth with my free hand, stunned by her words. “I’m sorry dear, I know how hard it must be for you to hear this, but maybe Jack had trouble loving Ben because of the lie you put between them.”
“Oh my Lord, Erna, how can you think that? I got pregnant with Ben after Jack and I started sleeping together again. Ben was full-term. There was no reason for Jack to doubt that Ben was his.” I pulled my hand away from hers and burst into tears.
Erna shook her head, her eyes reflecting my pain. “But, if it was close, Anna? If there was room for doubt, might it not have poisoned his mind?”
I thought of Jack’s unpredictable behaviour toward Ben, of how he was a loving father one day and so distant the next that it was as if he had locked Ben out of his heart. Was that the behaviour of a man who doubted his son’s paternity, or of someone who had become self-absorbed and careless in his relationships? Had my anger clouded my judgement? Just because Jack couldn’t love me enough to be faithful, did that mean that he couldn’t love his son enough, either?
Framed For Murder (An Anna Nolan Mystery) Page 13