by C Farren
Chelsea was hugging herself against the cold, the rest of her children by her side. She looked sadly on as the demolition continued.
“Look after her,” said Wren. “She’s lost a lot.”
“I’m having the whole clan around for Christmas dinner next week,” Wanda explained. She looked proud. “It’s going to be quite a day.” She looked at the bruises on Wren’s neck. “What happened to you?”
Your great-granddaughter tried to burn me alive.
“I fell in the shop,” Wren lied. “I got a little clumsy.”
“I trained to be a nurse once upon a time you know,” said Wanda. She sighed wistfully. “That was a long time ago. I didn’t last long. All that blood got to me in the end.”
Maureen was sitting in her wheelchair, watching the demolition. She waved over to Wren, who waved back. She looked in good spirits.
“When do you think you’ll open the Metropolitan full time?” Wanda asked, turning away from the toy store. She seemed to want to change the subject.
“I’m thinking early January,” said Wren. “I just want to have a stress-free Christmas.” She hesitated. “Then again, I am having the whole family over.”
The only reason she was hosting the whole family at Christmas was so Fiona could meet them all. It seemed a waste now.
Wanda nodded. “That sounds so wonderful.” Wren was about to leave when the elderly woman said, “When Kerry was eight I bought her a gerbil for her birthday. She loved that furry little thing. Then the day after I found out Charlie, that’s what she called the gerbil, had died. We had a little funeral for him in my back garden. During the service I looked at Kerry, hoping she wasn’t too upset, and I saw something in her eyes that chilled me to the bone. I ignored it, and I never saw that look again, but after what she did...What I saw was evil, Wren. I saw pure evil.” A tear leaked down her cheek. Wren took her hand. “She started with that gerbil and she ended up with murdering her own father and grandmother. I will pray to God every single day that Kerry, wherever she is, will never take another life, but I know she will.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s not going to kill again,” stated Wren with certainty.
Wanda assessed Wren for a moment before nodding. “I believe you. I don’t know why, but I believe you.” She gave Wren a kiss on the cheek and walked away.
Inside the Metropolitan she found Gracie making herself comfortable on one of the tables. She said hello to her feline companion and picked up Kerry’s lighter from off the floor. She really needed to get rid of this.
“Wren?”
Keegan entered, looking glum.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he explained. “I saw Lenny walking down the street. I told him that we found out it was Delia sending him the letters. We had a good talk.”
“Why do you look so upset then?”
“I know what he did with the diamonds was bad, but I still love him. Am I bad too?”
She hugged him, allowing him to cry on her shoulder. Wren smiled. “Your love life needs more work than mine. If only you had your own Fiona.”
He looked puzzled. “Who’s Fiona?”
She had vanished from his memory already. Maybe the whole town was forgetting her. It wasn’t a mind wipe at all. People naturally forgot angels existed when their work was done and they left. Would she forget her too? She couldn’t cope with that. Fiona was coming back. She had to be coming back.
“Never mind,” said Wren. “Just take it one day at a time.”
“He seems happier knowing that the diamond is gone,” said Keegan. “I think he wants to just get on with his life.”
“Reba told me she’s thinking about giving him a job with her law practice,” said Wren.
“That would be good for him. Maybe he’s going to settle down.” Hope seemed to flare in his eyes. “Maybe...”
She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Perhaps there was hope for Keegan and Lenny after all.
WANDA SMILED AS SHE entered her home. She could smell more baking coming from the kitchen. Lenny was certainly keeping himself busy these days, though she wished he’d try something other than baking. She was starting to put on weight from all the cookies and cakes she’d been eating.
“At least he’s happy,” she mused.
She walked over to the fireplace. Her husband’s ashes were in a silver urn. He still kept a watch on the family from this position, making sure they didn’t stray.
“Keep us safe,” she asked him.
She’d known Lenny was up to something the moment he came home. All it took to find out what was to go through his things when he wasn’t there. He’d written down his plan to get the diamond back from the reindeer and burned it, but not properly enough. She’d still found his notes in the bin in his bathroom.
Wanda had visited Delia on the pretense of discussing Christmas dinner and stolen her shop key. She let herself into the toy store in the middle of the night. She fed the little reindeer some nuts laced with sleeping tablets. The poor thing had been hungry.
Delia probably didn’t feed the poor thing much.
The next part had been easier than she’d imagined. It had been a while since her nurse days, but she was still a magnificent seamstress. Wanda managed to cut the stitches in the reindeer’s side, take out the diamond, and stitch him back up again with consummate ease. It all went rather well.
Now the Christmas Diamond was with her husband’s ashes, protected. She hoped now Lenny had gotten all this nonsense out of his system he would stick to the straight and narrow. He had a lot going for him, including a job with Reba, and Wanda planned to make sure he had a future they could all be proud of.
Lenny appeared in the doorway. He was wearing her Frosty the Snowman apron, a gift he’d bought her when he was only ten years old. He was dusted with flour and he had a sad expression on his face.
“I miss Grandpa too,” said Lenny.
Wanda smiled and patted the urn. “He’s watching over us.”
She joined Lenny in the kitchen.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve was finally here. Brock had reluctantly helped her decorate the tree that her mother had ordered for her, and the ham was in the oven, and everything else was going smoothly. Her mother and Aunt Jenny were helping, and Reba was in the lounge with her twins, playing with the cats. The rest of the family were arriving in drabs and drabs, laden with gifts, wishing them happy holidays.
Wren wasn’t really in a mood to celebrate. Her father was in prison. Fiona was gone. She was just getting back on track with Benedict. The whole reason she’d offered to make a giant family dinner was so Fiona could meet all here relatives. Now Fiona wasn’t here it seemed like a waste.
“Why do you look so glum?” Aunt Jenny asked. She was mixing a bowl of mashed potatoes. She added a little garlic cream cheese to the mixture and smiled
“This is my first Christmas without Dad,” said Wren. She was sat at the table, idly playing with some fancy Christmas napkins that Reba had brought. “It just doesn’t seem the same without him.”
“I’ve told him to call in the morning,” said Dot merrily. She was at the stove, making sure all the pans of vegetables were safe. “If he fails to phone then I’ll hire someone in the prison to beat him up or something.” She laughed and then went quiet. “God, I miss him.”
Fiona sighed, fighting the urge to cry. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to go outside for some fresh air.
I don’t want to celebrate!
She sat under her gazebo, thinking about her dad and Fiona. She missed them so much it hurt.
“Can we talk?” Uncle Camden asked. He sat down without waiting for her to answer. “I want you to know that I love your aunt very much and I regret my affair,” he told her sincerely. “I don’t want this to spoil our relationship.”
“I’m not sure what to think,” Wren admitted. “It was just a shock finding out I suppose.”
“It was the worst thing I’ve eve
r done, and I’ve dedicated the rest of my life to making it up to Jenny. Sometimes you make mistakes, but they don’t define you.”
She nodded and gave him a hug. Wren had made mistakes in her life too, and it wasn’t fair to be angry at Camden for something foolish he did decades ago.
“There,” said Camden, smiling. “You look much happier now.”
He walked back into the house, leaving Wren thinking once again. She did feel a little lighter now she’d made up with Camden. He was important to her. She hated not being able to trust him.
Talking about not trusting people...
Lenny smiled sheepishly as he walked up to her. He was carrying a small plastic box that seemed to contain scones.
“Gran wanted you to have these,” said Lenny. He put them down on the table. “It’s really cold today, hmm?”
“I may have forgiven my uncle but I’m not ready to forgive you just yet,” she said, trying to fight her anger. “Please leave.”
“I’m sorry about all the lies. I really am.”
“There’s so many of them I lost count.”
He sat down and opened the box. Wren took out scone and started eating it. She didn’t care whether it spoiled her appetite. Wanda’s scones were worth it.
“I lied about Everett being on a date with that woman at the Japanese place,” said Lenny. “I just wanted to get at him because I thought he had the Christmas Diamond.”
“I gathered that,” said Wren with epic snark.
Everett had turned out to be completely faithful to his wife, while her beloved uncle had been the one to have an affair. Things turned out strange in the end.
“I’m sorry for everything,” said Lenny. “I’m sorry if you thought I threatened you. I’m sorry about... Look, Wren, I’m one of your oldest friends. We’ve been through so much together. I don’t want this to be the last of us.”
“I already said I’m not ready to forgive.” She looked him in the eye, deciding to give him a little hope for the future. “But give me time. I will come around, okay?”
He smiled. “That’s all I can ask for.”
He left her to it. She stood, improved, jollier. She’d made amends, sort of, with Camden and Lenny. She didn’t have her father or Fiona, but they’d be back. She was sure of it. It was time to stop moping and celebrate Christmas with her family.
Her brother Leo popped his head out of the door. He’d arrived only an hour ago, lugging two suitcases, planning to stay for the week. She didn’t get to see her brother nearly as often as she liked.
“Are you smoking out there?” he called.
“Just get in there and set the table,” she told him. She smiled at him, festive and ready to eat. “It’s nearly time for dinner.”
Book 3 –
Who Wants Maureen Dead?
Chapter 1
“Come on, my little candies,” Maureen cooed. She rattled a packet of tuna crunchies. “Come and get your fish treats!”
Maureen Stripe’s twelve cats were playing hardball. The eldest, a scruffy white Persian with missing teeth called Darcy, was the leader of the pack. Whatever he did, the others copied. When Darcy decided to head to the roof of her small apartment building the others immediately followed. Now they refused to come back down.
“What’s the matter?” she asked sweetly. “Has something frightened you? Is it all the people in the garden? I don’t blame you. Crowds make me anxious too.”
The thirteen cats were standing near the edge, looking tense. Their tails were flicking around agitatedly. Nothing startled them like this apart than other cats invading their territory, fireworks, and foxes. They hadn’t been a fox around here in months, but you never know. Maureen loved the silver foxes that sometimes invaded her garden. They were adorable, even if her cats didn’t get on with them.
Felix. Molly. Max. Tiddles. Freddie. Ivy. Pebbles. Sonny. Cher. Jerry. Tweety. Darcy.
I love them all!
She walked up to Darcy and tried to pick him up. He hissed and scratched at her. Luckily his sharp claws didn’t break the skin.
“Now that’s not very nice!” Maureen scolded him. “You’re being very naughty! Maybe you don’t deserve tuna treats.”
She sighed, exasperated. Normally she liked sitting on the roof. It was a decent space, with a small outdoor fire surrounded by chairs. It was the middle of January now, and the winters around here were fierce. The snowfall had been brief lately, but there was still the odd flake floating around. The whole of Snowflake Bay was visible from up here. It was night and the whole town was dark and lifeless. She preferred her town in month leading up to Christmas, when it was lit up like Santa’s grotto. The lights were amazing.
Maureen sat down and lit the fire with a lighter she found in a tin. As it roared to life she held her hands toward it, enjoying the heat, all warm and snuggly. The warmth reminded her of her mother, when she used to rub Maureen’s hands if she was cold. Her mother was dead now.
Darcy jumped onto her lap. She smiled and gave him a cuddle.
“Now what’s wrong with you lot today?” she asked. “I thought you’d be pleased that Mommy had her casts off so she could play with you more.” She tickled Darcy’s chin. “I know you’re worried about me. I worry about me all the time.”
A couple of months ago Maureen had been weeding around the old well in the back of the apartment building when she blacked out. When she came to, she found herself at the bottom of the well, dirty and half the bones in her body broken. She’d screamed for help until her upstairs neighbor, Jose Aguilar, heard her and dialed 911. It took a bunch of fire fighters almost an hour to get her out of there. She’d been brought up in some sort of sling, covered in mud, screaming in pain, and wanting nothing but to stroke her cats and be safe.
While in hospital Maureen had a time to think. How had she fallen down the well? She couldn’t remember. Did she slip? Did she leap into the well on purpose after having a psychotic break? It was all a blur. It frightened her that she couldn’t remember what happened. She liked her life to have an orderly meaning to it. This was not orderly.
And I moved my black book before the fall as well. I can’t remember where I hid it!
Maureen’s black book was a series of observations she made of people around town. Some would be call it spying, but she disagreed. She just liked to watch people and their behaviors. It made her comfortable and safe. The fact that her black book had helped her friend Wren find a murderer was just the icing on the cake.
“I heard you shouting up here,” said Ginger. She smiled at Maureen and sat down with her. “Is something wrong?”
Ginger Wentz lived on the top floor, the third floor, of their apartment building. She was a young woman in her late thirties with red hair and freckles, and she had lovely brown eyes that reminded Maureen of her precious Grandfather Stan. Maureen liked her a lot. The woman understood how Maureen’s mind worked, what with her being on the autistic spectrum. Plus, she liked to talk about cats. Maureen liked talking about cats. She could talk about cats until the cows came home.
“Darcy led them all up here for some reason,” said Maureen, stroking Darcy as he purred affectionately on her knee. “I’m not sure what he’s up to but I want to find out.”
“Maybe he just wanted some fresh air,” Ginger suggested. “It is quite brisk out here. Sometimes cats don’t like being cooped up all day.”
“I can’t let them out. They might get hurt.”
Maureen had started off with one cat, bought for her by her father to keep her mind occupied after her mother died. The cat was called Lord Fluffy. He’d been an indoor/outdoor cat, but he’d been run over by a car. Since then, she kept her slowly growing collection of felines firmly inside. She didn’t trust drivers not to kill her precious children should they venture outside. A lot of humans didn’t care about their fellow humans, never mind animals they thought were beneath them. As long as she kept them inside, away from swerving cars and speeding lorries they were relatively safe.
“Jose is starting the barbecue in the garden soon,” said Ginger. “Are you coming down? Your friend Wren’s here.”
Maureen smiled. She’d been looking forward to Wren arriving. They’d been having dinner together every week now. It felt good to have a friend. She didn’t have many. The people in her building were friendly but they weren’t friends (apart from Ginger). She knew they talked about her behind her back. She knew they thought she was weird. They only tolerated her because Maureen owned the building and she kept the rent low.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” said Maureen. She rubbed her cold hands into Darcy’s warm fur. “I want to try and coax the little ones off the roof first.”
“Hurry up,” said Ginger. “You don’t want to miss it.”
Ginger smiled and left. Maureen yawned, tired.
Perhaps if I just closed my eyes for a bit...
Maureen woke to the choking stench of smoke. She started coughing, her immediate thoughts not of the fire or her own safety but those of her cats. They were the most important things in her life.
“Darcy?” she called.
The cats were gone. They’d obviously smelled the smoke and scarpered. She went to the edge of the roof and looked over the edge. The cats were with the others at the barbeque, being fed bits of meat. They were having such a good time, dancing to music and feasting (the humans, not the cats). She wished she’d gone down now instead of falling asleep.
Maureen looked back. Smoke was pouring out of the doorway that led inside. It wasn’t the barbeque she was smelling. The building was on fire!
“Fire!” Maureen cried. “Fire!”
They couldn’t hear her.
“Fire!” she shouted again. The cats looked up at her, but the humans didn’t. Wren was standing with her back to the building, eating a hotdog. She looked to be having a good time.
She put her hands on the door handle and pulled it away with a scream. It was burning hot.