Death of an Irish Diva (A Cumberland Creek Mystery)

by Bryan, Mollie Cox

  How did they know where to place it?

  And on the same night that Vera woke Beatrice up out of a sound sleep with a pie slicer in her hand with blood all over herself.

  So, hell yes, she was stressed. She took another deep breath. The tightening didn’t get any worse.

  It did not get any better, either.

  DeeAnn had decided to bake some biscuits and was thrashing around in her kitchen.

  Beatrice remembered the gravy in the refrigerator. With a houseful like this, she should be feeding them all. But she was afraid to move. If she moved, she was afraid what would happen. Something would change. They would get news. Bad news. No. She could not think about that.

  She wouldn’t move.

  Every so often she glanced at the officers quietly moving through her home and remembered when she used to know every member of the three-person police squad in her town. She knew their families, as well. Oh, that was too many years ago to count.

  And her baby was lying upstairs, half out of it from sleeping pills by this point.

  And her granddaughter had been stolen.

  Beatrice ran her hand along the surface of the table. It was hard, cold, real. She wasn’t dreaming, as much as she wished it. This was real.

  The scent of the biscuits. The people around her. Yes, it was all real. Too real for her. Elizabeth was gone.

  Her telephone rang, sending her heart racing, and Annie picked it up. Annie seemed to be the appointed phone person in the crowd. If it wasn’t her cell phone, it was another phone she was talking into.

  Beatrice tried to read her expression and murmured something under her breath. “What was she saying?” Beatrice asked. “Who is she talking to?”

  Sheila held up a finger.

  “That was Detective Bryant,” Annie said. “They found Elizabeth.”

  “And?” Beatrice said, unable to read Annie’s expression. Was she relieved? Gathering strength to deliver bad news?

  “Elizabeth is fine. They have taken her to the hospital to check her over. It’s standard procedure.”

  Squeals of relief and sighs all around.

  Beatrice cleared her throat. “Who did this? Was it Kelsey?”

  “The police have Kelsey at the station,” Annie said.

  “Well, that is a miracle. The fastest police work I’ve ever seen. Especially around here,” DeeAnn said.

  “There is something else,” Annie said.

  They all looked at her.

  “They have a warrant out for Bill.”

  “Surely not,” Beatrice said.” Surely Bill didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  Paige spoke up. “It happens a lot. I was just reading about someone who grew up thinking their mother had died. Years later, they found out their father had just taken them to raise. Can you imagine?”

  “Bill?” DeeAnn said.

  Beatrice tried to process that, but it didn’t sit right with her. Bill had done some surprising and odd things the past few years. But she wasn’t sure she could see him actually trying to hurt Vera like that. Or Elizabeth. But then again, she could be wrong. It happened sometimes.

  Jon’s hand went to her shoulder. His hands. She loved them. She loved him. Thank the universe for this man who took care of everything when she sat there, barely able to breathe, as the intense emotions slammed into her. He made the coffee, answered the door, offered the chairs. Now he showed people out. And then her to her own bed, where she finally closed her eyes and rested.

  Hours later, when she awoke, it was to the sound of a loud and happy three-year-old running through the house. The next thing she knew, Lizzie was in her bed.

  “Get up, Granny!”

  Beatrice pulled her down to her and wrapped her in her arms. A deep peace overcame her. It would be all right now. Now that Lizzie was home.

  Vera sat on the quilt-covered bed with her mother and daughter. She was a little out of breath. “I can’t keep up with you, Elizabeth. Are you okay, Mama?”

  “Land sakes, can’t an old woman take a nap?”

  “Mama, you’ve been sleeping all day!”

  “Look at you, Lizzie,” Beatrice said. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. Kelsey had candy.”

  Beatrice looked up at Vera, who grimaced.

  “Really? Well, I have cookies,” Beatrice said. “How about that?”

  Elizabeth squealed. “Yea!”

  “Supper first,” Vera said. “How about spaghetti?”

  Elizabeth turned and fell into her mother’s arms. “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you, too, girl.”

  Vera blinked away a tear—but Beatrice saw it. And she was blinking back a few of her own.

  Chapter 65

  Vera hated to leave Lizzie the next day. But the psychologists said that they needed to keep to Lizzie’s routines. She would still have some fearful memories. But they were trying to let her believe that it was an outing, that Kelsey did not mean to take her away from her mother. Evidently, Bryant had caught her pretty quickly, and Elizabeth had seen him so often that she felt completely comfortable with him.

  Still, Vera was shaken. So shaken that they had to cancel her hypnosis session, which was scheduled for today. They’d do it on Thursday now.

  But she wanted to clean her studio, because in a few days she would start her summer schedule, which was jam-packed. And she needed to take care of the registrations and finances today. People hated it when they wrote checks that weren’t cashed right away. She filled out all the paperwork and left the studio to walk toward the bank.

  On the way, she passed the fountain her mother liked to sit at sometimes, but she wasn’t there. A group of very pregnant women was hanging around, all dressed in the same style. Hadn’t she seen them at the festival? She figured they were from out of town, but maybe not. Surely they wouldn’t still be there if they had just been visiting a local family. There was something odd about them.

  Vera walked into the cool air of the bank and took care of her business quickly, turned, and walked out. The group of women was heading into DeeAnn’s Bakery. Should she? Oh, what could it hurt to follow them in there? She had plenty of time.

  DeeAnn was nowhere to be found at first. Her intern helped the group of pregnant women, got them drinks and an assorted variety of baked goods. Soon enough DeeAnn came out to bring more scones to the display case.

  “Hey, Vera,” DeeAnn said. “You want one?”

  Vera nodded. “Blueberry.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Sure. Join me?”

  “I can’t now. I’ve got muffins in the oven,” she said.

  “I can take care of that,” her intern said.

  She and Vera sat close to the group of denim skirt–and jumper-wearing pregnant women.

  “Do you know them?” DeeAnn asked.

  Vera nodded in the affirmative.

  “Who are they?”

  Vera shrugged.

  “Wonder what the professor would think of us eating sugary treats,” one young woman said.

  They laughed.

  “Don’t want his babies having sugar,” another one of the young women said. “So stupid.”

  DeeAnn’s eyes widened.

  Vera sat back in her chair and took a bite of her scone. Who were they talking about? What were they talking about? Was their father a professor? Were they sisters? Surely not. There were five of them, and they all looked to be between, say, eighteen and twenty-two. Very close in age. Though it was getting harder for Vera to tell young women’s ages just by looking at them.

  The door flung open and another young woman walked through and the others greeted her. When she turned to look in the display case, Vera saw her face. She looked vaguely familiar.

  “Miss Vera?” the young woman said.

  Vera smiled. She was used to this. Girls remembering her. She had to search her memories to figure it out. “Yes?” Vera looked up at her.

  “It’s me, Chelsea Miller,” she said. “
I took dance classes with you.”

  “Oh, Chelsea!” Vera said, standing up and hugging a very pregnant former student. “I thought you were at college?”

  “I am,” she said. “I’m studying at the University of Virginia. I’ll take some time off when the baby gets here.”

  “Yes,” Vera said. “I imagine you will.”

  “Oh, not to take care of it,” she said.

  “No?”

  DeeAnn was bursting. Vera didn’t dare look further at her. Her face was beet red.

  “I’m giving it up for adoption.”

  “Oh,” Vera said, taken aback by the way she spoke of her baby as an it.

  “Well, that’s a smart choice,” DeeAnn said finally. “You’re too young to be saddled with a baby.”

  The table next to theirs quieted.

  “And there’s so many people who can provide a good home, who really want a baby,” DeeAnn said.

  “Yes,” Chelsea said. “That’s just what John said.”

  “John? The baby’s father?” Vera asked.

  “Chelsea!” One of the young women was now at her side, pulling her away.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, smiling. “It was nice seeing you.”

  Chelsea sat down at the table next to them. Vera was perplexed. They appeared to be a group of pregnant women who were in some kind of club. Were they all giving their babies up for adoption? Were they a support group? Was that it?

  Vera felt the hair on the back of her neck prick at her. The oddest sensation. A cloud of danger and suspicion fell over her. Why? They just appeared to be harmless pregnant women. She should mind her own business. Why did she care? Maybe it was all the recent discussion about Alicorn and designer babies poking at her.

  “After I get that report done for Reilly, I’m done for the summer,” one of them said.

  Reilly? How many University of Virginia professors were named Reilly?

  DeeAnn looked at her in the eyes. “I know what you’re thinking. Let’s find out.”

  Chapter 66

  Vera turned around.

  “So, Chelsea, what are you studying?” Vera asked.

  “Marketing,” Chelsea answered.

  “Are you all in the same major?” Vera asked.

  “No,” one of the young women said. “I’m an art major.”

  “Art?” DeeAnn said. “Too bad Sheila’s not here. She was an art major. So talented. She’d love to meet you girls.”

  Just then one of DeeAnn’s workers came up and asked her to sign a purchase order.

  “I know Sheila,” Chelsea said. “She’s the scrapbook lady, right?”

  Vera nodded. “Yes, but now she’s looking into designing her own line of scrapbooks.”

  “Aww, now, that’s cool!” Chelsea said.

  She was very pregnant, yet she still sounded like she was twelve. Vera found it disturbing. Chelsea could not be more than nineteen. Where were Chelsea’s parents these days? She’d not seen them in town recently.

  “So, how did you all meet?” Vera said after taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Through a mutual friend,” said a young woman who appeared to be the oldest of the group. She was drinking bottled water and had just taken a bite of a scone.

  “Would you like some banana bread? It’s whole grain. No sugar. Really good for you,” DeeAnn said, rising from her chair and going over to the case.

  “Thanks,” said one of the young women. “So kind of you.” She wore her hair in a ponytail. The others had their long hair pulled back, as well.

  DeeAnn handed them each a thick golden slice. “No trouble at all,” she said, smiling. “So how did this happen?” DeeAnn gestured to their bellies.

  They tittered.

  “I mean, I know how it happened. What I want to know is, I mean, you are all pregnant. All look about the same size. You understand how curious it seems,” DeeAnn said.

  They all just sort of looked at her, quieted.

  “Well, I don’t know how it happened,” Chelsea said, her face pink. “All I know is I can’t wait for it to be over.”

  “I hear ya,” another of them said. “I hate being pregnant so much that I’m sure I’ll never have sex again.” She laughed.

  “How will your boyfriend feel about that?” DeeAnn joked.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” the young woman snipped.

  “Oh,” DeeAnn said. “No boyfriend?”

  “I loved being pregnant,” Vera said. “It felt like such a miracle to me. Of course, I was much older than you girls. I was single, too.”

  They quieted again and looked at her.

  “I loved it when the baby kicked me or I could feel her turning, or when she had hiccups . . . . It was such an honor for me. I don’t know how else to explain it,” Vera said in a hushed tone.

  “Did you keep your baby?” one of them asked.

  “Well, yes, of course I did,” Vera replied. “But I’m a grown woman, have a business, and can support a child. If I’d been younger, I don’t know what I’d have done.”

  But that wasn’t quite the truth, Vera knew. She’d had an abortion years ago, way before she was ready to have a child. But she wasn’t going to tell these women that.

  “Are you all putting your babies up for adoption or just Chelsea?” Vera asked.

  “All of us,” Chelsea said. “They are paying us well for our babies. We’re students and need the money.”

  “Who is paying you?” Vera asked.

  She shrugged. “Some adoption agency one of our teachers knows about.”

  “Alicorn?” Vera asked.

  “No, that’s not it,” the oldest one answered. “Our checks didn’t come from there.”

  “Where did they come from?” DeeAnn asked.

  “Look, I don’t know why you’re so curious about this, ladies,” the young woman said. “It’s all perfectly legal. We’ve signed contracts. We’re working with a broker. We don’t need to know the name of the agency. We get our money, and they get their baby. Fair and square.”

  “Whatever,” Vera said. “It’s no big deal to me. It’s totally your decision, of course. Very personal.”

  The women murmured in agreement.

  “I hope you understand, of course, that it’s likely not going to be as easy as you think to give up your babies. Just prepare yourself for the hormonal onslaught,” Vera said, waving, trying to make light of it, but hopeful that one of them heard her. “Who is the teacher that is helping you out?”

  “Dr. Reilly,” Chelsea said. “He’s a business professor.”

  Chapter 67

  Annie was disappointed to learn that the hypnosis session had been canceled, but she could certainly understand that Vera needed a few days to gather her strength. So she and Bryant had a plan.

  They invited John and Leola Reilly and Bill to the hypnosis session. The Greenbergs were also staying in town one more week, so they could participate, but Vera wouldn’t be told about it. The doctors planned on taking them to another location and then bringing them in once they started the hypnosis.

  Bryant theorized that if that they didn’t kill Emily McGlashen, these folks knew more than what they were saying, and could therefore lead them to her killer. He thought if they saw Vera’s emotional walk through the crime, each one of them would be more ready to talk. A bevy of plainclothed police officers would observe their behavior.

  “There are just way too many strange coincidences. They were all involved in this Alicorn place? C’mon,” he had said to her on the phone earlier that day. “And I don’t care how much you want a baby. How many thousands can you spend on it? I can’t understand that.”

  He could not understand, but Annie could. She and Mike had gotten themselves into a mountain of debt with their IVF treatments to get pregnant. She, so successful at everything she did, could not succeed in having a baby. It felt as if her body had betrayed her. Over and over again.

  They had just decided to stop treatments and seek adoption opportunities wh
en she found that she was pregnant. Ordered to complete bed rest for the first six weeks because she had miscarried so many times, she did nothing but read about parenting and babies. Could she allow her hopes to fly, to soar? Would she have the privilege of being a parent?

  A knock on her front door interrupted her thoughts.

  DeeAnn, Vera, and Sheila walked into the house. Sheila handed her a coffee.

  “We have news for you,” she said. “You’ll need to sit down for this.”

  “Okay,” Annie said, taking a sip of the coffee as she sat down.

  “You know that group of women we keep seeing around?” Vera said.

  “The pregnant women.” DeeAnn interrupted.

  “Oh yeah. The ones at the festival?” Annie said.

  “I ran into them today and followed them into DeeAnn’s—”

  “And they were talking about a professor and—” DeeAnn said.

  “One of them was my student. She recognized me and talked to me. Said she was putting her baby up for adoption,” Vera said.

  “Well, I know that family very well,” Sheila said. “I know that they could not afford to send her to college. I thought maybe she was on a scholarship. So when DeeAnn and Vera came to me, I called her mother.”

  “And her mother has not heard from her in months,” DeeAnn said.

  “Because of the pregnancy?” Annie asked.

  “Yes, not just that, but she’d gotten mixed up with a professor there. You’ll never guess who,” Sheila said.

  “Well, since we all know only one professor, I’d guess that it would be Reilly,” Annie said. “But what’s the big deal about that? Professors and their students have been messing around for ages. C’mon.”

  But wait. He was on her list. And he was a board member at Alicorn.

  “But here’s the thing,” Sheila said. “Her mother said she was paid very well to have this baby. Her mother did not approve of this at all. She said there were other young women who were students, her friends, that were doing the same kind of thing.”