by C Farren
It was a few miles to Mrs. Rison’s retirement home. It must have taken him hours to get there and back.
“Do you like it here?” Wren asked. “You’re not going to leave?”
“Who knows what may happen?” said Casper. “A new place might open up that serves better food or is warmer. As long as you serve me what I want, I am content.”
She patted him on the head. She took that as a sort of compliment.
OUTSIDE SNOWFLAKE BAY’S small town hall was a wooden notice board, erected once upon a time by former mayor Gerald Ivory (after the previous notice board was stolen). On it were various memos for meetings, bake sales, garage sales, and people selling stuff they didn’t want or need anymore. This morning there was a huge notice pinned to the board for Maureen’s funeral.
“What a tragedy,” Wanda commented.
The funeral was scheduled for tomorrow at one in the afternoon. Donations could be made for the local cat charity on her behalf. The photo they’d used for Maureen wasn’t flattering, making her look like a forest witch, but it was the best they could find at such short notice. Wren had searched for better ones on her cellphone, but the woman was either blinking or looking away whenever she tried to take her photo.
“How are you holding up?” Wanda asked, putting an arm around her.
Wren tried to look suitably bereft. “I’m just trying to take one day at a time.”
“It will be a sad affair. Maureen had no family left apart from her father’s brother, and he lives in Hawaii. I’m sure Brian will make it, though. He was very fond of his niece.” Wanda grinned and added, “Brian had a crush on me. He tried to woo me, but Gerald soon saw him off. Brian wasn’t such a bad man.”
Wren had no idea Maureen had an uncle. She’d never mentioned it. Sheriff Fisher hadn’t mentioned it either when they were discussing organizing the funeral. They just assumed she didn’t have any family left.
“You don’t happen to have Brian’s number do you?” Wren asked. “I don’t think he’s been told of Maureen’s death.”
“I do have a number, but it’s at least twenty years old,” said Wren. “He could’ve moved by now. He never could stay still.”
Wren took the number anyway. Brian might know more about the death of Maureen’s mother. She was sure it was somehow connected to the threats of death on Maureen. It had to be.
She opened the coffee shop as normal, leaving Aarna and Reo to get on with things as she phoned Brian. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?” he said apprehensively. “Is this the IRS? You have to tell me if you are.”
“Hello,” said Wren. “This is Wren King. Am I speaking to Brian Stripe?”
He hesitated and then said, “Yes. I am Brian Stripe. Do I know you?”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Your niece Maureen has died.”
He was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s... that’s horrible. What happened?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. She was murdered. Someone set her apartment on fire.”
“I told him it would come back to haunt him one day. He thought he could get away with it!”
Wren almost jumped out of her skin when Aarna dropped a tray of cutlery on the floor. The girl gave her a look of apology before moving on.
“Are you talking about Maureen’s father?” Wren asked.
“That man couldn’t keep it in his pants,” said Brian. He sounded livid. She could almost feel his anger through the phone all the way from Hawaii. “Why do you think I left and never came back? He treated his family like garbage, having affairs all over the place. I couldn’t stand the way he treated that beautiful wife of his. She deserved better. She deserved so much more than that man ever gave him.”
He sounded very emotional now, almost as if he had feelings for his brother’s wife, Yolanda. Was that why he left?
“Did you not think to take Yolanda and Maureen with you when you left?” Wren asked.
“She would never leave him,” said Brian bitterly. “She may have despised him, but she loved the money too much.”
She waited for him to continue his story but the line went quiet. She watched as Lenny came in with the day’s bakery items. He gave her the thumbs up and left.
Lenny really has been there for me lately. Maybe I’ve been too hard on him.
“Do you know what happened to Yolanda?” Wren asked, trying to keep the conversation going. There was so much she needed to know. “Maureen was told she ran off over the Canadian border and died in the cold, that they never found her body.”
Brian laughed. “Yolanda would never do that. That woman was fierce. She’d fight tooth and claw for what was owed her. She’d rather divorce him than leave without a penny. If she didn’t care about money she would’ve left with me.”
“Have you seen or heard from Yolanda?” Wren wondered.
“Not a peep. I’m hoping she found love somewhere else. I’m hoping she’d happy, wherever she is.”
Maybe the skeleton they found was Yolanda after all. She’d have to press Sheriff Fisher on how long it was taking for the body to be identified. It could help solve the mystery quicker if they knew whose body had been stuffed behind the walls in Maureen’s apartment.
“I suppose now Maureen is dead they’ll be coming to claim the money,” said Brian. “Not that they deserve a penny. Maureen could’ve done with family all this time.”
“Who will come for the money?” Wren asked. “Her mother?”
“Johnson had a lot of affairs, as I already told you. I’m not entirely sure, as I could never get a straight answer out of him, but he has other children out there. I’m surprised they didn’t contest his will after he died.”
Now that was a revelation. Could one of these siblings want Maureen dead so they could inherit her money?
“Maureen could have siblings?” Wren asked, shocked. “Really?”
“There were others I only had suspicions about, but I overheard him talking to this woman one time,” Brian went on. “She was called Sandra. I don’t know her last name. She worked for Raccoon Real Estate. I’d seen her with him before. She was asking for money to buy their child some new school clothes. He gave her a check, but he was angry about it. She wanted more money you see, and she didn’t look like the type of person to give up that easily. She even slapped him.” He made some choking noises, like he was crying. “Hear me going on about my sleazy brother and Maureen is dead. I wish I’d kept in contact. I wish I’d seen her before she died. She really was one in a million.”
“She really is. Was.”
They talked for a little longer about Maureen and her difficult childhood before he hung up. He promised to be there in Snowflake Bay for the funeral tomorrow. He said it was the least he could do for abandoning his niece so many years ago.
“Hey,” said Aarna. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Maureen could have brothers and sisters out there somewhere? That’s wicked.”
“Not if one of them killed her,” said Wren.
Aarna sat down. “I’m Hindu. I believe in reincarnation. Maureen is going to come back in a new body, as someone even greater than before. Or maybe this was her last cycle, and her soul has already received enlightenment. Who knows? I only know that something better is waiting.”
Wren liked that. Maureen deserved better than what she got. She didn’t appear to be dissatisfied with her lot in life, but that was Maureen for you. The only time Maureen had ever been truly depressed was when Brock turned her down the other day.
“I didn’t think you were a spiritual person,” said Wren. “I like it.”
Aarna grinned. “I’m not just a pretty face.”
When it came time for a break, Wren headed for the police station. She needed to get a little fresh air and check on Sheriff Fisher, see how was getting on with his side of things. Customer turnover in the coffee shop was a little better than yesterday, but she was still a little disheartened.
She met Javier outside the station. He
stared at the building intently, like he really wanted to do something but was afraid. His whole body trembled.
“Are you okay?” Wren asked.
He nodded and said, “I’m going to turn myself in. I can’t take the guilt.”
He really was more worked up than he was the other day. The boy was practically in pieces. She had to tell him the truth and swear him to secrecy. There was no way he was lying over being blackmailed. Nobody was this good an actor.
I have to regain my trust in people again. Might as well start here.
There was a wooden bench outside the police station. Wren sat Javier down and told him all about their plan to lure out Maureen’s killer by faking her funeral. To say he was shocked was an understatement.
Crying, he said, “She’s really alive? I didn’t kill her?”
“She’s alive,” said Wren, keeping her voice low. “Please. Don’t tell anyone. Someone really, really wants her dead and we’re sure this person will turn up to the funeral.”
“How will you know who the killer is?”
“Hmm. Now there I’m not so sure. I was hoping they’d give a tell, act suspicious.”
Javier laughed and pulled Wren in for a hug. He was still crying, but this time it was tears of joy. “My family has been through so much,” said Javier. “I didn’t think they’d be able to cope with me going to jail, but I had to confess. The guilt was eating me up.”
Wren thought back to the clean-up of Rosa’s bathroom, and how it had been done by a professional. She needed to ask some questions about Javier’s family.
“Your mom runs her own cleaning business, right?” Wren asked.
He nodded. “She has a few girls working for her. They don’t make much money, and Mom spends more than she makes. Her and Dad are always arguing about it.”
“I overheard them ask Maureen if they could defer this month’s rent.”
“That was tough, but the break-in almost decimated us. She had to use her own money to replace everything that was stolen or the business would go under.”
It still didn’t stop her from going on a frivolous shopping spree, did it?
She reminded herself not to be so disdainful. Maybe shopping for shoes was the only way for Pilar to relax? Was being a little bit more in debt worth it to feel good, even if only for a little while at least?
“What exactly got stolen?” Wren asked.
“Most of Mom’s cleaning supplies got stolen from the back of her van,” Javier explained. “Some of that stuff is expensive, real high-grade chemicals. It’s really dangerous too. Some of it can cause serious burns and rashes if it’s not used properly. We couldn’t even claim it on insurance because the van wasn’t broken into. Mom must have left it unlocked by accident.”
Things were starting to make a little more sense now. The killer had stolen Pilar’s cleaning supplies to erase any trace of Rosa being shot. That didn’t narrow down the suspect. A lot of people would know about Pilar’s business and where she kept her supplies. But how could they break into the van without leaving a trace? Did Pilar leave it unlocked, or did someone steal a key?
“I better go home,” said Javier. “I want to write a poem for Maureen’s funeral.”
“I think she’ll love that,” said Wren, not knowing either way whether Maureen liked poetry or not. “Remember to add some cats in it.” She paused before adding, “Oh, and remember to keep this funeral plan secret. Don’t tell anyone, including your parents. If this is going to work, the less people who know the better.”
He smiled and walked away. Wren entered the police station to find things rather subdued. Deputy Stark was sitting by his desk, staring into thin air. A few other deputies were at work, but they were unnaturally sad too. The death of Maureen and Keegan’s disappearance was really bringing down morale.
She walked into the sheriff’s office, finding him on the phone. He held his hand up to keep her quiet before he hung up.
“I’ve got some news,” said Wren.
She quickly told him all she’d recently learned, from Uncle Brian to the break-in of Pilar’s van. He wrote it down.
“What was the phone call about?” Wren asked. “It looked serious.”
“We’ve identified the skeleton found in Maureen’s apartment,” he revealed. “And the name might be familiar to you. It’s Cassandra Turnpike.”
The name didn’t register at first. “Wait! Brian told me his brother had a secret child with a woman called Sandra. Could she be Cassandra Turnpike?”
“Possibly. The only reason we could identify the body as Cassandra was because she had a metal splint in her leg, and that came with a manufacturer’s code. The code matched up to Cassandra’s in some database. Nobody reported her missing, and there’s no mention of a child.”
That was very good detective work. She didn’t think the sheriff had it in him.
“So how does this all tie together?” Wren pondered. “Could this really all be about this secret child Maureen’s father had with Sandra? Are they targeting Maureen?” She started to pace. “They failed to kill her multiple times. Their attempted murders were quite sloppy, in fact. Maybe they were hesitant to kill her? Then they saw Rosa following Maureen too, and confronted Rosa. They shot Rosa, burned the negatives of all her photos, took the hard copies of the photos with them in, and left. They came back later after having stolen cleaning supplies from Pilar to clean up, only to find Rosa was gone. They cleaned up anyway, probably thinking she was in hospital, dead or something.
“They kept failing to kill Maureen, so they blackmailed Javier into doing it for them. He, and the killer, thought they’d succeeded this time. They really think Maureen is dead. Then we find a skeleton in Maureen’s apartment, which complicates things. That skeleton turns out to be the mother of Johnson’s love child. Maureen initially presumed the skeleton must be her mother, because her father told her she ran off and died. Only Maureen knew with certainty that her father killed her mother, like she saw it, only she couldn’t quite remember it. What if Maureen saw her father kill Sandra, but thought it was her mother? What if Sandra and Yolanda disappeared at the same time?”
“And what happened to my son?”
Maybe the funeral would give them all the answers they needed.
Chapter 25
“Hello. My name is Michael Frost.”
Wren could only grin. The change was astonishing.
“You look totally different,” said Wren, examining Michael from all angles. “You’d never guess it was you!”
“The chest binder is tight, but she’ll get used to it,” said Benedict.
Benedict had come up with a plan to allow Maureen to attend her own funeral. She would come in disguise as Michael Frost, her cousin from out of town. Benedict had been delighted to give Maureen a make-over, claiming he very rarely got to dress anyone up as a drag king anymore. He’d never been so excited before. It was like he’d revealed a whole new side to himself.
“The beard itches,” said Maureen.
“Don’t scratch it,” Benedict told her. “It’ll come off.”
Maureen, or Michael, as they were now known, was dressed in a light brown two-piece suit with a white shirt underneath. Her hair was pulled back and hidden under a wig cap, and over that had been placed a short black wig styled to make her look more masculine. She had sideburns, bushier eyebrows, dark brown eyes, and even her nose was a different shape due to some simple prosthetics. Her lips and cheeks looked sharper because of make-up, and her beard was made from actual human hair, glued on to keep it in place. Maureen was Michael.
“You are my greatest creation,” Benedict announced, almost in tears. “I will remember this day for the rest of my life.”
“Get a grip,” Wren told him. “This is serious. We’re after a killer here.”
“They haven’t actually killed anyone yet,” Benedict added. “Hopefully.”
He was right. This wasn’t a murder investigation. Maureen wasn’t dead yet, despite many, many at
tempts on her life.
Brock entered with a tray of coffees. He smiled at Benedict, but he ignored him and walked away.
“He’s still ignoring me,” said Brock, sighing. “I wish he’d let me talk to him and explain things.”
“Maybe one day,” said Wren.
Wren left Maureen to get more comfortable in her new guise and headed downstairs. Paula was with the cats, running around and laughing as they chased her. Benedict was watching her play, his face blank.
“You should talk to him,” Wren told him. “It will help. I know it.”
“Never,” Benedict stated. “Never.” He put on a smile and said, “Right. I’m going home to get changed. Is it still okay I come to the funeral?”
“People will think it’s weird if you don’t turn up.”
After Benedict had left Wren began ringing her friends. Wanda was organizing a small wake in the Metropolitan for her, helped by Reo and Aarna. Reba had hired a bagpipes player for the funeral itself, for some reason thinking Maureen was Scottish. Pilar and Jose were driving Javier to the funeral so he could recite his poem. She’d even had a call from Brian, saying he’d flown in overnight and would arrive later in the morning. She felt a little guilty about that. He’d travelled all that way for a fake funeral. He must really have loved his niece.
“Uncle Brian is coming?” Maureen had exclaimed last night. She’d smiled. “I haven’t seen him in ages. I thought he was dead.”
Maureen was excited to meet her uncle again. He was the only family she had left in the entire world apart from her father’s mystery love-child. Her reaction to that piece of news was something else entirely.
“I have a brother or sister?” Maureen had shouted. She actually laughed, either from giddiness or disbelief. “I have to find them! I have to go and find them and tell them about my cats!”
“Maureen, I think this secret sibling might be the one trying to kill you,” Wren had told her. “I’m sorry.”
She’d shaken her head and said, “I can’t believe that.”
Maureen had refused to even consider that her own brother or sister was trying to kill her. In the end, Wren had dropped it. They’d know for sure today when a mystery person turned up for the funeral. Wren only hoped the truth didn’t devastate her friend in the process.