by C Farren
Darcy hissed. “You are the foul one!”
Wren followed them into them kitchen where Cher, Maureen’s tiny calico cat, had just arrived through the back-door cat flap. She was carrying a dead mouse in her mouth. She walked reverently up to Gracie and dropped the offering in front of her. Gracie bowed and swallowed the mouse in one huge gulp.
What the hell is this?
“Why are your cats hunting for Gracie?” Wren asked.
Maureen was sat at the kitchen table scribbling in a crossword book. It was something Wren’s dad had bought her the Christmas before. Wren didn’t have the patience for word games.
“I don’t know,” said Maureen, eyes not leaving her book. “Perhaps they know she needs to feed and are helping her.”
“I guess,” said Wren, watching as Gracie began to clean herself. “It’s just I’ve never seen this behavior in cats before.”
Maureen looked up at her and said, “I would like to lose my virginity to Brock.”
Wren laughed, thinking her friend was having a joke with her.
“I’m serious,” Maureen stated. “I think it’s time.”
Wren sat down by the table, puzzled, though more concerned for Maureen’s fragile mind than anything else. She’d gone through a lot lately. She wasn’t thinking straight.
“I’ve never felt the need to engage in intercourse before. It seemed frivolous.” She hesitated, looking sad and brittle at the same time. “Nearly dying in that fire made me think about my life. I like it as it is. It’s not perfect, but I like it. I have a friend now in you. I have my cats. I can rebuild my apartment block. But Brock is an angel, and a very attractive man, and I want him to be my first time. I need him to be my first time. Can you advise me on what I should do next?”
She wished she was back at work. Anything but this. Was this what went through her father’s mind when he discovered she was on the pill?
I think my cheeks are so hot I’m going to burst into flames.
“So... you have a crush on Brock?” Wren asked.
“No,” said Maureen. “I just find him aesthetically pleasing. I don’t have romantic feelings for him. I’ve never had romantic feelings for anyone.” She pondered this for a moment and came to a conclusion. “I think I may be asexual.”
Wren didn’t understand. “Then why do you want to have sex with him?”
“I think I’ve already explained why.”
It would do no good to press the issue. Maureen had made up her mind and there was no dissuading her from her course of action.
There was a polite knock at the back door and Sheriff Fisher came in. He looked quite solemn.
“What is it?” Wren asked.
Please don’t tell me Keegan is dead.
“We found something,” he answered. “We found something in Maureen’s apartment.”
“Did Ginger tell you she saw the door open?” said Wren.
“She did, but it isn’t about that. We found a body.”
Chapter 19
Another week passed in Heaven. Fiona did her yoga and continued her givings, and with each passing day she became more and more like her normal self. She didn’t see Harold again, though he left her a message, saying he was on a course to learn more about being an angel. She was glad for him. He was a perfect angel, a generous blend of kindness, sympathy, and tolerance.
Cynthia smiled as Fiona entered her office. There was a cake on her desk, a sculpted affair made to look like an angel. It was very well done.
“Did you bake this?” Fiona asked.
Cynthia nodded. “It’s to congratulate you. You’re now a full angel again.” She paused. “How do you feel?”
“I feel content. I can feel that the demon is gone.”
Cynthia nodded and sat by her desk. She opened a drawer and took out a small white crystal. She held it in the air, waving it back and forth like a wand. When nothing happened, she smiled and put the crystal back.
“What was that?” Fiona asked.
“It detects demonic energies,” said Cynthia. “You are free.”
“I know that. Can we eat the cake now?”
When the cake was thoroughly demolished (one of the many benefits of being an angel was that calories didn’t affect them the same way as they did humans), Cynthia left to administer to a patient who was making a fuss in the waiting room.
I can’t wait to get back to Earth!
There was something on Cynthia’s desk. It was a file, and there was a picture of Wren in the top right corner. Curious, she picked it up.
“A little look won’t do anyone any harm,” she muttered to herself, knowing it was wrong, but she couldn’t help herself.
She read what was inside. It was short but very revealing, and it answered so many questions about why she’d been sent to Wren. The higher ups had a specific reason to send her there, and it wasn’t a test for Fiona or to guide Wren to happiness after all.
This has got to be false, right?
“You found it then,” said Cynthia.
Fiona glared at her. “You wanted me to find this.”
“I didn’t like concealing the truth from you. I thought you had a right to know.”
“All this is true?”
Cynthia nodded.
“I feel very used,” said Fiona angrily. “I don’t like it.”
“But will you go along with it?”
Chapter 20
“A body?” Wren asked. “Really?”
The sheriff continued. “Well, a skeleton actually. It was behind one of the walls in what was left of the living room area of Maureen’s apartment.”
Maureen groaned and looked away.
Wren shivered. “You mean there’s been a body in the walls of Maureen’s apartment all this time? That’s creepy.”
“It looks to have been there for years, maybe decades.” He paused before adding, “The body is female. I could tell just by looking at it.”
“Have you been binge watching Bones?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m doing a course on forensic pathology, if you must know.”
He was quite touchy on the subject. Wren found it quite endearing. The sheriff was willing to learn more about crime to help his town.
“Maureen?” Wren asked her friend. She’d gone pale and was making strange noises, like she was afraid. “What is it?”
Maureen stood and walked away. She pushed open the back door and headed into the garden.
“What’s that all about?” the sheriff asked.
“I think she knows more about this than she’s letting on,” said Wren. She held her hand out to stop him coming forward. “Let me handle this.”
He nodded, and Wren went outside to join Maureen. She was standing in the open, staring into the sky. She was oblivious to how bitterly cold it was. Wren quickly popped back inside to grab them both a coat.
“Really cold today, huh?” Wren asked, wrapping Maureen’s coat around her shoulders. “Winter lasts forever around here. Good job we don’t live further inland!”
“He said she ran off across the Canadian border and never came back,” said Maureen, her words a little mumbled. “That’s what he said.”
“Who said?” Wren inquired.
“My dad said my mom had a breakdown and got lost in the wilds and that’s how she died,” said Maureen. “He said she must’ve been buried in snow and that’s why we never found the body.”
“You think this skeleton is your mom?”
Maureen turned to Wren. “I know what this means, Wren. I know what finding my mom’s body in that apartment building means.”
Wren knew. She just didn’t want to say it.
“Did my dad kill my mom, Wren?” Maureen asked, almost pleaded. “Did he?”
“We might never know,” Wren answered truthfully.
“I feel it in my gut,” said Maureen. “I know he killed her. I just know it. I remember everything that happened in my life as if it happened only yesterday. I can remember my first word. It
was apple.” She shivered and Wren held her hands to keep her warm. “I was a teenager when my mom died, and I can remember everything my father said and did at the time. He was sad, but there was something else too. He acted guilty and suspicious. He kept things from me. When I asked him about it he’d say I was lying. That’s when I started writing things down. I had to have a record of everything, just to make sure it matched what I remembered.” She shivered and said, “I remember something... something bad. It’s in there somewhere. What is it, Wren? What is it I can’t remember?”
They still never found Maureen’s black book. It had probably been destroyed in the fire. That might have told them a lot.
“All my diaries and books must be lost in the fire,” said Maureen sadly. “But even before that I couldn’t find my black book. I looked everywhere.”
“Maybe the reason you couldn’t find it was because someone stole it,” said Wren.
Some things were starting to add up.
“Someone is trying to kill you,” said Wren. “And then your black book goes missing. I think you heard something you really shouldn’t have.”
“And they want me dead for it,” said Maureen. “They succeeded.”
“Is this person Rosa, or someone else entirely? Maybe she was stalking you at the same time as someone else was trying to kill you. Or...”
She really didn’t know. This new information just complicated things even more. They really needed to find Rosa and interrogate her. She could have most of the answers.
“When I was young I did something I’ve regretted for the rest of my life,” Maureen revealed.
“What can you have done that was so bad?” Wren asked.
“I think I know why Rosa is stalking me. It’s my fault she left ballet.”
Maureen sighed and sat down in the gazebo. The bench was icy cold, but Wren was fed up of standing. Even the cats were staying inside out of the cold.
“You can tell me,” Wren assured her.
“Rosa and I were best friends.” Maureen smiled sweetly. “After Mom died, Dad took me to the ballet and I fell in love with it. He suggested I go for ballet lessons, and I thought it was a wonderful idea. That’s where I met Rosa, or Rosalind, as she was known then. She was a rising star and I was terrible at ballet, I really was, but my dad was rich and so he got me into all the best classes.” She smiled and laughed. “They are good memories. I didn’t care that I was bad at it. I enjoyed it, and I had a friend for the first time in my life. Rosa didn’t pick on me for being weird. She just accepted me, just like you do.
“A while later, Rosa and I went to London to perform at the Royal Opera House. We were so excited! We were going to play in front of Queen Elizabeth and everything. Things didn’t go as planned. No amount of money from my dad could get the ballet director, Charles Bisson, to put me on that stage and embarrass everyone. Charles was sympathetic, but he wanted to impress everyone, and he couldn’t do that if I was on stage.”
Wren felt for her. Embarrassment and humiliation were written all over Maureen’s face.
“I sat in the audience and I watched the show and I was amazed.” Maureen smiled. “I told Rosa this and that I wasn’t angry about not being on stage but something had changed inside her. She’d gotten a standing ovation from the queen! Companies from all over the world were trying to poach her. She told me we couldn’t be friends anymore and that I was holding her back and I was a useless, lumpy freak. I got angry with her and I pushed her. She fell down some stairs and broke both her legs. I didn’t mean for her to fall like that. It was an accident.”
Maureen started to cry. Wren tried to take her hands but she wouldn’t let her. She was visibly shaking now, as if the confession was actually hurting her.
“She hurt her left leg so badly she was told she could never dance again,” said Maureen. She looked up into Wren’s eyes, miserable. “I ruined her. I ruined my only friend.”
“Did you mean to hurt her?” Wren asked.
Maureen shook her head.
“Then you have to forgive yourself,” said Wren. “It was an accident, a terrible accident.”
“I’m not sure Rosa sees it like that. She’s been stalking for me for years. She’s trying to kill me.”
Wren wasn’t so sure Rosa was behind the attempted murder now. She was sure there was someone else out there, hiding in plain sight.
“You should be getting into work,” said Maureen. “You can’t afford not to.”
“Will you be okay on your own?” Wren asked.
“I have Brock. Besides, if all goes well, I won’t be bored today.” Maureen had a saucy grin on her face. She had never made a suggestive comment before. It was hilarious.
“Don’t be disappointed if things don’t go your way,” Wren advised her.
“I know I’ll be disappointed,” said Maureen. Her eyes were sparkling now with something akin to mischief. “But I can hope.”
Wren needed to have a private word with Brock. In no way was he going to indulge in Maureen’s request. It would be wrong on both sides. Maureen may be middle aged, but she was still naïve and innocent at heart and Brock should know better.
Who am I to get in the way of Maureen having a little fun?
She hesitated, eventually deciding to leave it up to chance. Brock would never agree to Maureen’s plan anyway. And if he did?
“I’ll be fine,” Maureen insisted. “You worry like an old woman. You already have enough laughter lines as it is.”
“I hope Brock turns you down,” said Wren jokingly.
Sheriff Fisher opened the back door and beckoned for her. Wren gave Maureen’s hands a squeeze before going to join him.
“How is she?” he asked.
“She told me why Rosa hates her so much,” said Wren. The cats were running outside, braving the cold, to be with Maureen. “It’s not pretty.”
“I just had a very worrying phone call. We did tests on the blood you found in Rosa’s bathroom. It doesn’t belong to Keegan. It belongs to Rosa herself.”
“Maybe she just had a bad period.” Wren pulled a face. She hated that she said it, but it was possible. Not that she’d ever had such a thing. She’d never been through it. She hadn’t been given the chance, what with the hysterectomy she was forced to have as a child.
“There’s a lot of blood,” said the sheriff. “Too much. She must have been attacked.”
“Maybe it was Keegan,” Wren suggested. “He went to see her and talk to her. He gave her his card but she threw it in the bin. Just before he was going to leave he needed to use the bathroom, maybe as an excuse to search the apartment, and he found the room full of photos. She came in and attacked him, and... No. That doesn’t make sense. Maybe he really did need to use the bathroom and Rosa tried to kill him and he shot her or something, and she... But what happened to Keegan if Rosa was shot? Who helped Rosa escape? Why didn’t Keegan phone for an ambulance?”
“There’s still too many questions.”
Wren went on to tell the sheriff about Maureen’s father, and how she suspected that he’d killed her mother. He nodded, taking it all in.
“This really is a quagmire,” the sheriff admitted.
Wren nodded. She still had no idea over who would want to hurt Rosa, or where Keegan was, or what the body in Maureen’s apartment had to do with anything, if it even was. She was sure it was all connected though. It had to be.
Chapter 21
On the way to work Wren bumped into Chelsea. She was sitting outside the small town hall, reading some sort of file. She still wore her mourning hat, a sort of black thing that looked like a dead owl. Wren wasn’t sure how the woman felt about her husband’s death, knowing he killed his own mother. Did she resent him, or was she secretly glad?
The day Delia Rickard died, a peace settled over Snowflake Bay, like a great disturbance had been erased. Wren hated to admit it, but the town was a much better place without her malign influence.
“Good morning,” Wren offered.
Wren sat down. “What is it?”
“The insurance money from the toy store finally came through,” said Chelsea. Her grin was as wide as ever. “I think we can finally rebuild.”
“That’s wonderful!” Wren declared. “The town doesn’t feel the same without its toy store.”
Chelsea shrugged. “I suppose so. But will I be able to look at the place again without thinking about all that happened?” She sighed and started to put the papers away inside her handbag. “I realize Becky masterminded everything that happened, but I still can’t help but be worried about her. Is that wrong?”
Wren wanted to tell her to save her worry for someone less diabolical, but it would do no good. A mother loved and cared for their children no matter what, even if they were a wannabe Bond villain/serial killer.
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about,” Wren assured her.
“She’s out there right now, probably killing more people, and yet I’m worried that she isn’t eating enough.” She shrugged. “How stupid is that? I should be wishing for her to turn herself in or something.”
Wren left her to it. She didn’t want to talk about Becky for a minute longer.
Javier was waiting outside the Metropolitan for her when she arrived. His face was puffy and his eyes were red. He’d been crying.
Poor kid. He’s lost his home.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, distraught. “I don’t know what to do!”
“Come in,” she said. “Tell me all about it.”
She unlocked the door and he followed her inside. He sat down by one of the tables as she started switching on the machines. He kept bunching his hands into fists and relaxing them over and over again. Something was very wrong, and she was sure it had nothing to do with the fire.
“Do you want a coffee?” she asked him.
He nodded.
As she started heating the milk she said, “How’s it going at the bed and breakfast? I really love that place. They make a lovely lunch.”