by Kira Chase
The three women tugged at the tree struggling to ease it out. Finally it began to move. Panting, they tugged harder until the top was almost out.
“Let’s rest a minute,” Frankie said. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her body now thoroughly warmed. “I don’t remember it being this difficult, Mom.”
“It wasn’t. We could have never fit a tree this size into our trailer. I’ve never seen a tree so big,” she replied breathlessly.
“Now you tell me.” Frankie laughed. She looked at her mother’s flushed face. “Why don’t you rest, Mom? Johanna and I can take it from here.”
Selma shook her head emphatically. “No, I want to help. I can at least help pull the tarp.”
“What’s next?” Johanna asked Frankie.
“I think if you watch the top, Johanna, I can pull the trunk and we should be able to keep the top on the tarp.” Frankie used all her strength to pull the tree and was happy when it started to move with Johanna’s help and Selma’s guidance. But she was rapidly losing her strength. “Mom, let us know if the top starts to slip off the tarp and Johanna can help me pull. At the rate I’m going, we’ll never get it to the house.”
“I backed up as far as I could, Frankie,” Selma said.
“No, it’s not that, Mom. You’re as close as you possibly can be. If I would have thought, I would have shoveled a wider path or had it plowed wider so it would be smooth sailing right up to the stairs instead of dragging it through all this snow.” She stopped to catch her breath. “It’s just that this sucker is harder to pull than I thought.” She looked at Johanna. “Okay on the count of three let’s give this baby everything we’ve got.” She counted down, then the women pulled with all their might and finally managed to get the tree to the walkway in front of the steps.
“It looks great, babe!” Johanna exclaimed. “We did it!” She bent slightly from the waist putting her hands on her legs as she caught her breath. “New Year’s resolution…go to the gym at least three times a week with no excuses.”
Frankie grinned at her. “I’ll hold you to it.”
“Uh, you’re coming, too.”
She made a face. “I guess I should have kept my mouth shut,” she teased. She eyed the tree. “Now to get it up the steps.”
“I have no clue,” Johanna said, surveying the situation.
Selma was thoughtful for a minute. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that, Mom?”
“Two of us can pull it up the stairs while one stays in back of it holding the tarp so it doesn’t fall back down.”
Frankie rested for a minute and then walked to the front of the tarp. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Let’s do it,” Johanna replied as she eyed the distance between the tarp and the top of the steps. She picked up an end of the tarp and waited for Frankie and Selma to do the same. As they tugged, she found the chore surprisingly easier than it had been to get the tree out of the truck and to the porch. When they reached the top step, Frankie grabbed the rope still tied around the tree while Selma moved next to Johanna and they both pushed until the tree was securely on the porch. The three women breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let’s take a break for a few minutes,” Frankie said. “I need to brush the snow off the tree before we bring it inside.” She unlocked the door. “Mom, if you want to go inside it’s okay. I have something I need to do before I take care of the tree.”
“What?” Selma asked.
“Do you need a hand with something?” Johanna asked, breathing hard.
“No, I can manage, but stay where you are, Johanna.”
“Why? What’s up?”
“You’ll see.” Frankie hurried down the steps, then casually walked to the yard, scooped up a large handful of snow, and shaped it into a snowball.
“What are you doing?” Johanna asked, frowning.
“This!” Frankie answered with a wide grin as she aimed the snowball at Johanna.
Johanna laughed as the snowball whizzed past her right arm. She ran off the porch and scooped up her own handful of snow.
Frankie chuckled as she dodged Johanna’s snowball. “Come join us, Mom.”
Selma placed her hands on the railing and laughed heartily. “You two are something else. I think I’ll stay up here where it’s a bit safer.”
* * * *
“Wow! That was more work than I thought it would be,” Frankie panted as she stood back and admired the tree. “Is it straight? I had a hell of a time securing it in the tree stand.”
“It looks great,” Johanna said, grabbing her hand.
“It’s going to be beautiful once it’s all decorated.” Selma yawned. “Well, we’d better get to those cookies or we’ll never get them decorated.”
“You’re tired, Mom. Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had a long day with the drive here and everything that’s happened. You have to be exhausted. We can do the cookies tomorrow after we decorate the tree.”
Selma sighed. “I am tired, but I don’t think I can sleep. Not right now anyway.” She laced her fingers together.
Frankie stared at her. All evening they’d managed to keep themselves preoccupied so they wouldn’t be reminded of the body they’d seen. It disturbed Frankie and she knew Johanna felt the same way. She also knew that after all Johanna and she had seen on the force, that if it bothered them, then it must be devastating to Selma. It was bad enough that the young man had been murdered, but why carve his face so hideously? She had never seen anything so gruesome. What message was the murderer sending? She involuntarily shivered. He wanted the body to be found or he would have hidden it better. There were so many questions running through her mind. If the killer had left the body in the woods it would have been months or longer before it was found. Or maybe it would never have been found. She had no idea how often Sam or his grandsons went deep into the woods. And certainly if they checked the fences only in the spring, it had been months since they’d been back there.
The fact that the body had been left so close to their rural serenity started a boiling rage in her, which had not yet surfaced to the top, but in time she knew that it would. No place was safe anymore and it infuriated her and made her more determined than ever to rid the world of the scumbags one at a time. She swallowed her rage not wanting her mother to see how the events had affected her, but a quick glance at Johanna and she sensed that Johanna knew exactly how she felt with the curious way her partner was looking at her.
Frankie took Selma’s arm and led her to the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee, Mom, or maybe a glass of wine would be better to calm your nerves?”
Selma’s eyebrows knitted together. “Calm my nerves?”
“You can’t fool me.” She patted her mother’s arm. “I know how upsetting it was for you to see that body at the tree farm.”
“I’ll get the wine from the pantry,” Johanna offered.
Selma lowered her eyes as she seated herself at the island. “There’s nothing that prepares you for a sight like that. I watch a lot of detective shows on TV, but I never realized how traumatic and final it is to witness a scene like that in person.” She swallowed hard. “To have your life snuffed out so brutally like you never mattered at all. What could that poor boy have done that would provoke someone to be so vile?”
“I don’t know, Mom.” She studied her mother’s pale face and out of the corner of her eye saw Johanna silently reenter the room carrying a bottle of wine. “It was brutal and vicious. Only a monster would do that.”
“It’s just so senseless.” Selma shook her head in disbelief. “How do you make sense out of something like this? Where do you start?” She threw her hands up palms out.
“It is senseless,” Frankie said as she poured three glasses of wine. “That’s what makes it more difficult to solve. Who could have such a violent rage inside of him?” She handed a glass to her mother. “Drink this.” She passed a glass to Johanna and then sat across from her mother and brought her wineglass to her lips peering
over the top of the glass at the woman. She wished she could give her mother the comforting words that she wanted to hear which would make sense of this, but she couldn’t. The world was a different one from which Selma and then Frankie had been born into. Every year crime went up instead of down. Frankie felt as frustrated now as she had in Philadelphia. Charlestown was a small city and in the past few years she’d seen how violent crime had slowly begun to seep in. She feared that eventually Johanna’s and her safe haven would also fall victim to the criminal element as so many smaller cities had.
“Thank you, honey.” Selma took a swallow and then set the glass down. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I’m not going to let anything ruin our holiday. There’s nothing we can do for that poor boy now except to pray for his soul and to pray that his murderer will be caught.”
“His killer will be caught, Mom. I promise you that. George won’t rest until he finds the murderer and puts him behind bars for the rest of his miserable life. He has a fine team of deputies, too.” She had no doubt that the murderer would be caught. Her problem stemmed, as it always had, with the judicial system. She was tired of the courts letting known criminals back onto the streets through some ridiculous legal loophole. The victims seemed to have their rights violated over and over while the criminals were protected.
Selma nodded solemnly. “George is a good man.”
Frankie thought about her mother’s comment for a moment. George was a good man despite his sometimes gruff intimidating manner. Once one got to know him, though, they saw what a teddy bear he really was deep inside. She had come to almost think of him as a father figure. He’d never admit it, but she knew he was as fond of them as they were of him.
The older woman looked toward the darkened window. “It’s so secluded here.”
Johanna took a seat next to Frankie. “We’re safe here, Selma. Probably much safer than we would be living in an apartment in the city.”
“I know, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.” Her lips turned up into a faint smile and she quickly changed the subject. “I hope I get to see Trey and Will while I’m here.”
“They’re on a cruise for the next two weeks.”
“Give them my love when they return and tell them I hope to see them on my next visit.”
“I will.”
“Who’s doing your plowing while they’re away?” Her brow puckered.
“They’ve expanded their winter business, so they’ve been able to hire a few men to help out.”
“So you have a stranger with access to the gate code coming up here?”
Frankie stared intently at her mother. “Mom, they are one hundred percent trustworthy. In fact, Johanna and I did the background checks on them, so don’t give yourself something else to worry about.”
“I read in the newspaper it seems almost every week where when someone is arrested it’s noted that a background check had previously been performed and nothing was found. Obviously a thorough background check wasn’t performed or child molesters wouldn’t be hired for jobs that bring them in close proximity with children. Not to mention some of the school bus drivers who get picked up for drunk driving and it’s found out that they had prior records.” She sighed deeply. “I don’t know what this world is coming to.”
Frankie looked hard at her. “I don’t know what kind of background checks those people had done, but again, I can assure you that Johanna and I leave no stone unturned. We dig for anything big or small before we give the okay.”
Johanna reached across the counter and patted Selma’s hand. “Please don’t worry about us.”
“Now that’s impossible. I’ll always worry. That’s what a mother does.” She rubbed her hands together. “Well, enough of this morbid talk. Let’s get started on decorating those cookies. It’s Christmas. We should be celebrating!”
Johanna smiled as she jumped up and hurried to the cupboard. She grabbed a large mixing bowl while Frankie pulled out the other ingredients. “Homemade frosting just the way you like it, Selma.”
“Good. I can’t stand it when people put that ready-made frosting on homemade cookies. It’s just so wrong.”
Frankie laughed. “Did you make your usual amount of cookies this year, Mom?” she asked as she plugged in the mixer.
Selma nodded. “More than usual. I made several batches for the church’s children’s and adults’ Christmas parties. And then, of course, my neighbors and friends always get a couple dozen apiece. Since I knew I’d be here, I did my baking early. One of the women from my church group picked the cookies up for the parties and I personally delivered the rest of them.”
“Wow!” Johanna said with hands on hips. “How do you manage? That’s a lot of cookies!”
Frankie giggled. “She pops her Christmas CD’s into the player and sings at the top of her lungs while she bakes.”
Selma stood staring at her daughter, feigning offense, then turned her attention to Johanna. “Where do you think Frankie gets her singing talent from?” she teased before breaking into her unique version of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.
Chapter 4
The buzzer on the intercom sounded startling the women as they were putting the finishing touches on the last tray of cookies. Johanna wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the intercom, then turned and looked questionably at Frankie before responding.
Frankie consulted her wristwatch as she cast a wary eye at Johanna. “It’s after midnight. I don’t know who’d be coming for a visit at this time of night.”
Selma frowned. “Well, they can’t get through the gate unless you allow it, so you might as well find out who it is.”
Johanna pressed the button. “Yes?”
“It’s George, ladies. I apologize for the late hour, but I wanted to let you know that a positive ID has been made on the body.”
Johanna quickly responded. “Come on up, George.” She pressed the button to allow his vehicle to pass through the security gate.
The women rushed to the front door and watched George as he parked his car next to Selma’s truck and hurried to the house. They ushered him inside and led him to the kitchen.
After Sheriff Ryker finished giving the detectives the details of the corpse’s identity, he shifted his large body on a stool at the island. He held a steaming cup of coffee in his large hands. After taking a sip, he set the cup down then thoughtfully ran a hand over his chin. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something doesn’t smell right about this case.”
“You don’t think it’s a drug deal gone wrong?” Frankie asked.
“It’s the way he was killed.” He frowned. “I’ve never seen anything like that. There was so much rage behind the attack. What could that kid have possibly done to invoke such a violent attack?”
“That’s what we were wondering,” Johanna stated.
Selma sat at the breakfast nook listening intently while Frankie and Johanna sat on stools across from George. “Have you spoken to the young man’s parents, Sheriff?” she asked.
He cast a warm look in her direction. “All we could get out of his parents, Selma, was that Cody Burrows has been in trouble with the law since he was thirteen. They claim he always managed to get involved with a bad crowd no matter where they lived.” He turned his attention back to the investigators eyeing them warily.
“You can speak freely in front of Mom, George. After what’s she’s witnessed tonight I don’t think anything will shock her now.”
George rubbed his tired eyes. “I ran a quick background check, but nothing turned up to verify anything the parents said about their son. I’m going to run a more in-depth check as soon as I get back to the office.”
“What about the parents…anything on them?” Frankie asked.
“The Burrows’ moved here about two months ago from Alabama. They’ve lived in four different states in the past five years.”
Johanna frowned. “That’s quite a lot of moving around the country. Is Burrows in the milita
ry?”
He shook his head as he picked his coffee cup back up. “No. I have a gut feeling about him. Something doesn’t smell right.”
“Where does he work?” Johanna asked as she sipped at her coffee.
“Clyde Burrows picks up odd jobs wherever he can find them. Now his background check brought up many arrests…mostly for shoplifting, theft and petty crimes, but he did serve time for a home invasion a few years ago in Arkansas. He claimed he didn’t know the family was home, panicked, and pulled a gun on them. Through some legal loophole he was released early and moved his family to Alabama.”
“It’s always a legal loophole. The defense lawyers twist everything around and make it look like it’s the victims’ fault for being in their own home when someone decides to rob it.” Frankie’s jaw twitched. “It makes me sick to my stomach.” She quickly brought her emotions under control. “That could explain the unusual increase in break-ins in the upscale part of the city the past few weeks in Charlestown,” she observed. “But it’s odd that he decided to move to Pennsylvania. Does he have some connection here?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Without a steady job or prospect of one, it doesn’t make sense,” Johanna said.
“Which brings me to another reason I wanted to talk to you two tonight,” George said, looking first at Frankie than at Johanna. “I’d like to hire you two to tail him. I can’t spare any of my deputies since they’re busy with the murder investigation.”
Frankie looked at Johanna and arched her eyebrows.
“Just keep an eye on him. If I can connect him to the break-ins, the mayor will be very happy and it would really lighten my load. One of the break-ins happened two doors from the mayor’s house. So he’s on edge even more than usual.”
“I knew something was up, George,” Johanna said. “You’d never share any of this with us unless you were bringing us in on the case. Usually you warn us to back off.” She grinned at him.