by Dawn Eastman
I sat across from him.
He pointed to the next pile. “Witnesses from the zombie run. Before the run, Derek was seen talking to Grace, Tatiana, and his brother, Aaron. None of it looked friendly. But some people only saw a pirate zombie. So was it Paul talking to all these people or Derek?”
“I don’t know why Paul would talk to Tatiana or Aaron. He didn’t know either one of them.”
“The zombie makeup doesn’t help us,” Mac said.
“Does Roy know about Grace’s concerns about mistaken identity?”
“She and Paul mentioned it in their interviews, but they didn’t give a good reason why anyone would want to hurt Paul. If I didn’t know them, I would think it was an excuse to get the focus off of them as perpetrators and more as possible victims.”
“I wish Grace and Paul had waited to hatch their disappearing plan,” I said. I looked over the notes from his interview with Grace. “They aren’t here now to defend themselves. A public brawl encourages gossip and there doesn’t seem to be any other likely candidate.”
“That’s why I’m concerned.” Mac tossed his pen onto the pile of papers. “If I didn’t know Grace and Paul—and neither one of us really knew Paul—they would be my top suspects. Now that they have been ‘killed,’ it doesn’t make things any better. They were told not to leave town and they snuck out in the middle of the night in an essentially stolen car . . .”
“I loaned them the Tahoe.” I looked into my coffee mug to cover my own doubt about their motives in leaving the way they did.
“You’re her sister. As an investigator, I’m going to assume now that she’s dead, you’re covering for her to keep her memory clean and pure for the children.”
“So you’ll try to get back on the case?”
Mac shook his head. “I’m now the guardian of the main suspects’ kids. There’s no way they’ll let me anywhere near the case. My boss said I needed to stay away.”
“Well, that’s pretty clear then.”
“Yes, it is.” Mac smiled. “But that never stopped you.”
We heard a door open upstairs and Mac quickly gathered his papers into a neat stack. Tuffy’s nails scrabbled on the wood floor as he flew down the stairs and ran to the kitchen. Tuffy liked his breakfast immediately upon awakening.
Seth straggled after him and let the shih tzu out the back door to do his business. Seth smiled and mumbled good morning. Baxter ambled into the kitchen with Sophie and began wiggling happily when he saw Mac. Seth dumped dry food into the dog bowls and then showed Sophie our selection of cereals.
The kids brought their bowls to the table. Seth yawned and poured milk over the cereal in his bowl. Sophie picked at hers and ate it dry, like trail mix.
I got up and put some bread in the toaster.
“Sophie, do you want some toast?”
“Do you have peanut butter?”
“I think so.” I rummaged in the cupboard and found a small jar. I showed it to her.
“Yes, please.”
“Did you sleep okay in the new bed?”
She nodded. “Baxter took up most of it, but I liked having him with me.”
“Nana Rose said she’s going to have a memorial for Mom and Dad,” Seth said in between bites of cereal. “It seems weird to have to act like they’re dead. I don’t understand why they had to go away.”
I glanced at Mac and sighed. I resented needing to make up a story for the kids. I decided I just wouldn’t. I could only protect them just so far and then they would need to know the truth.
“I don’t really understand it, either,” I said. “I know they got into some trouble in New York with some investors who lost a lot of money. These were people who could get pretty mean when things don’t go their way.”
“Mobsters,” Sophie said. She had gotten up to spread peanut butter on her toast and I spun to look at her. She shrugged and licked her fingers. “We have Netflix.”
“I’m sure if they saw any other way of keeping you safe, they would have done it,” I said.
“I think the only other option would have been to take us with them, but that would have been hard.” Seth said. “We’d have to go to school and this way they can keep moving if they need to.”
Mac’s eyebrows twitched upward. “What movies have you been watching? We might need to check the Netflix settings.”
Seth smiled and went back to his focused eating.
“When do you want to go back to school, Seth?” I asked. “You can stay home this whole week if you want, but I don’t want you to fall too far behind.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ll wait until Sophie starts.”
“I have to go to school?” Sophie said.
“Of course you have to go to school,” Seth said. “How are you ever going to get a job if you don’t go to school?”
“I already know what I want to do and I just need Nana Rose and Aunt Vi to teach me.”
“You still need to go to school, Sophie.” I said. “You might change your mind and besides, it’s against the law to not go to school.”
“Oh, right.” She finished off her toast and sat for a moment, chewing. “Will all the kids know that we’re orphans?”
Oh boy. I’d seriously have to get a handle on the movie watching.
“I’m not sure if they will or not. They might, especially since we’re going to have a memorial service. We need to do that so that the people who were after your parents will believe that they died in the accident.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
25
“I just want to get this over with,” Mom said that afternoon. She had papers and lists strewn on the table in front of her.
“We have to make it believable, Rose,” Vi said. “Grace is counting on us.”
“I would have thought that if she needed our help so desperately, she could have told us what she was planning,” Mom grumbled. “I will never forgive her for putting us through that the other night. I thought she was dead.”
Vi patted Mom’s hand and made soothing noises. The list of things Grace would never be forgiven for had grown quite long. I almost didn’t blame her for wanting to start over somewhere new.
“I already talked to Reverend Frew,” I said. “He says we can do the memorial tomorrow afternoon. Will that be enough time to notify everyone?”
Mom nodded.
Vi pulled the list of mourners toward her side of the table. “We have most of these people on standby already. It will be very small. I’m glad there’s no one from out of town on the list. We can put this all behind us by tomorrow evening.”
Except for the fact that I was now in charge of two kids for the foreseeable future. A year ago, I was single, living in Ann Arbor, and working my way up the ladder at the police department. Now I was in a relationship, unemployed, with two kids to raise. My head spun as I contemplated it all.
Dad had taken the kids to a movie so we could focus on making plans for the memorial service. I hoped we would be able to pull this off. Keeping it small was a great idea; fewer people to notice if we were not acting as if someone had died.
“Alex said he would take care of the food and everyone can go to the restaurant after the service,” I said.
Mom made a note on one of her pieces of paper.
“I wonder where they are now,” Vi said.
Mom glanced at Vi and then away. She brushed tears off her cheek and took a deep breath. “I just hope they’re safe.”
“We have to assume that they are,” I said. “They’re both very clever. And . . . the men that were following them are still in town. I saw them earlier.”
“What? Do you think they’re after you now, or the kids?” Mom’s hands fluttered from her chest to her mouth.
“I don’t know, but I don’t see why they would be.” I hesitated. “They could be
watching all of us. Maybe they suspect the accident was a fake and they want to see how we act.”
“We’ll play it up.” Vi said. “We’ll throw a big memorial and look sad whenever we’re out in town.”
“I’ve already talked to the kids and they’re on board. I think getting the memorial over with as soon as possible will be good and maybe the men will move on.”
* * *
The organ droned out a melancholy march the next afternoon as the mourners filed in. There was a good turnout considering Grace hadn’t been seen in town in fifteen years. Mom had overordered on the flowers and the mixture of the scents was so strong, the air felt thick with it.
I sat in the front pew with Seth, Sophie, and Mac. Mom, Dad, and Vi were across the aisle.
The kids had been coached again on their need to act somber.
I pretended to whisper something to Mac so I could scan the pews behind us. I was watching for the two stalkers. I had asked Diana to stay at the back and keep her eye out as well. Alex was already at the restaurant preparing for the reception.
Reverend Frew slowly mounted the steps onto the pulpit and cleared his throat.
“We are gathered today to mark the passing of Grace Fortune Proffit and her husband, Paul Proffit. Two lives cut short by chance and circumstance . . .”
I tuned him out. I had been to plenty of funerals since I returned to Crystal Haven less than a year ago, and listening to a fake eulogy seemed wrong somehow. Plus, listening to all of Grace’s wonderful attributes while I was carrying a justifiable grudge would only serve to irritate.
I saw Mom dab at her eyes although I could see she wasn’t crying. Vi put her arm over Mom’s shoulder. The two of them had practiced this at home, making sure it appeared from behind that they were distraught. Dad sighed and stole a glance at his watch, which earned a jab in the ribs from Mom. I wondered how that had played to the back row.
Jillian and Tom sat a few rows behind Mom and I could see that Jillian was truly crying. Tom had tried to offer condolences yesterday when I saw him in town and he’d been unable to get through it without his voice cracking and his nose turning red.
All of this only fueled my anger at my sister. What did she care that we had to lie to people we cared about and that they would feel helpless in the face of our perceived loss? Why did she have to come all the way here to have her fake accident?
I stood with relief when the strains of Amazing Grace boomed out of the organ—our cue that the family could progress out of the church.
The day was bright with a painfully clear blue sky. Tulips dotted the walkway out of the church and the grass was that bright spring green of late April. We milled about for a few minutes and then arranged ourselves in a line to greet the guests. I had explained this part to the kids and told them they didn’t have to stand in the line, but they both insisted it would look weird and that they could handle it.
And they did. Appropriately solemn, but not overdone, Seth and Sophie shook hands and accepted condolences. Vi, on the other hand, cried loudly and messily next to Mom, who stood as if in a trance with the slightest smile on her face. I nudged her to get her attention.
“You’re smiling, quit it.”
She pulled her face into a mask of sadness. “I have something to tell you after this is over,” she whispered and turned to the next person in line.
26
Everyday Grill was packed when we arrived. Memorial aside, people always turned out for free food.
We had dropped the kids off at home to watch a movie. I didn’t want to subject them to any more comments from well-meaning strangers.
I hesitated in the doorway and took a deep breath. Mac squeezed my hand reassuringly and pulled me into the room.
“There you are!” Vi hurried to my side. “This is a pretty good turnout for Grace and Paul. I think it’s mostly because everyone just loves your mother.”
A plate of food was pushed into my hands and I picked at it while nodding and thanking people for coming. I felt like such a fraud. Some of Grace’s high school friends approached; they clutched wineglasses and sniffled. It seems the memorial had triggered them to reconsider their bucket list. There was a lot of talk about what they will do with the short time they have. Even though they were barely forty years old, they acted like they were all at death’s door.
After listening to a few stories about Grace’s high school exploits, I took Mac’s hand and pulled him off to the side. I needed a break from the grief of other people, grief I obviously didn’t share. We snuck behind a large potted plant and I leaned against him.
“Are you doing okay?” his voice was low and quiet.
I nodded and looked up at him.
A familiar voice spoke from the other side of the plant. “I heard Derek was flirting with her and the husband got so angry he swung at Derek without any warning.”
Harriet Munson. Great. The whole town would think Grace was a murderer by the end of her memorial.
“No, I heard it was Derek that started it.” This sounded like Tatiana and I pulled a few leaves aside to peek. Harriet, Tatiana, and Theo stood about five feet away, their backs to our hiding place. “He walked right up to them and started insulting the husband. They said he acted like he was drunk.”
“Derek was always volatile,” Theo said. “Not like his brother. Aaron is as calm as they come.”
“What a shame,” Tatiana said. “Can you believe they died within a couple of days of each other?”
The gossipers moved away and I couldn’t hear anymore. Mac held me tighter and we waited a couple of minutes before appearing again in the room.
As if the mention of his name had caused his appearance, Aaron Vaughn wended his way through the crowd toward us.
“Hello, Clyde, Mac,” he said. He put out his hand to us both. “Clyde, I’m so sorry for your loss. Grace was very special.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I wonder if I might have a word with you?” He looked at me and tilted his head toward the door.
I glanced at Mac and gave him a brief nod. “Sure.”
Aaron led the way out onto the sidewalk.
“What can I do for you, Aaron?” I asked. Had he heard people talking about the fight? Surely he didn’t think Grace or Paul had killed his brother? I crossed my arms to ward off a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
“My son, Logan, works at the animal shelter with Seth,” he said.
I nodded. Maybe Seth had told Logan about the fight? Did Seth even know about the fight? I couldn’t remember anymore who knew what.
“He tells me that you and your aunt have started a business together.”
I uncrossed my arms. This was a surprise.
“Yes, we have.”
“I’d like to hire you.” He glanced up and down the street and lowered his voice even though we were quite alone. “I need to be sure that this will be in strict confidence. “
“You know what kind of a business we have? I have a PI license but I don’t do divorce work or collections.” We’d had a couple of inquiries where the finding aspect of our business had been misinterpreted. They thought we could find a husband’s mistress or a person who owed money.
He held up his hands. “I assure you I know exactly what you do and I need you to find something for me.”
A couple of people came through the door of the restaurant and stopped when they saw Aaron and me standing on the sidewalk. I saw the exchanged glance and gleam of newly acquired gossip.
“Maybe we should discuss this privately,” I said.
His face relaxed and he smiled. “I would appreciate that.”
“Come by my house this afternoon. Around four.”
He nodded and I left him standing outside on the sidewalk.
I reentered the restaurant and blinked a few times after the brigh
tness of the day.
“There you are!” Vi said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the restaurant. “Your father and Richard Vaughn are brawling in the back.”
“What?” I followed quickly and pulled my hand away when we got to the kitchen door.
We peeked through the glass window.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Dad and Richard had each other in a headlock and their “brawl” consisted of grunting and turning in a circle as each man tried to get a better grip. Vi pushed the door open and we slipped inside. The combatants muttered to each other, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Mom stood to one side, wringing her hands and looking mortified. I looked around for Richard’s wife, but she wasn’t there. I didn’t remember seeing her at the memorial. Maybe she hadn’t been there. The kitchen staff stood transfixed and Vi watched with undisguised glee.
When the large bowl of salad clattered to the floor, covering the entire kitchen in green, Vi grabbed a large bucket of melting ice and water and tossed it onto the two men. They pulled apart, dripping and angry and turned on Vi.
She shrugged and set the bucket down. “It works with dogs and cats, too.”
Mac and Alex stepped in while the fighters were still stunned from the ice water.
Mac pulled Richard’s arms behind him but seemed to be struggling to keep control. Alex faced Dad, keeping himself between the two pugilists. Dad’s face was red and his hair was askew, making him look like an angry cockatoo.
Shards of plates lay smashed next to the main prep table, and oil dripped onto them from a bottle of olive oil that had been knocked over. Salad draped and dripped everywhere and large metal bowls sat upended on the floor. I saw one of the kitchen staff pull a large butcher’s knife off the counter and quietly slide it into a drawer.
“What is going on here?” I said. I put my hands on my hips and adopted my angry cop stance. Where was Charla when I needed her?