by Ann Mullen
“Why don’t you bring me those flyers first?”
“I’ll get them, but I don’t think you’ll recognize anyone.”
“Recognize who—the dog or the name of the owner?”
She looked at me strangely, as if she was trying to figure out whether or not my question was supposed to be a joke, and then she laughed. She walked out of the room and when she returned, she was carrying a pile of papers. She handed me the papers and then said, “You look nice in those black dress pants. I guess you don’t own a skirt.”
“I hate wearing skirts.”
“I know,” she said under her breath as she headed to her bedroom.
I took the flyers and examined all of them closely. Finally, I discovered a common element in all of them other than the fact that they lived in Dogwood Valley—they all went missing on a Wednesday. To me, that wasn’t a coincidence. What’s the probability that all of these animals would go missing on the same day of the week? The plot thickened. I also noticed that none of them were young—no kittens or puppies. All of them were listed as past the age of two. Was that the magic number? Possibly, the thief didn’t want young ones. My mind started to wander as I began to envision a man who had been attacked by a dog, possibly as a child or maybe as a teenager, and when the anger of it all overtook him, he started getting revenge. I shivered at the thought.
“That’s pretty creepy!” I said under my breath.
“What’s creepy?” Mom asked as she walked back into the kitchen, dressed up in one of her nice black dresses and matching heels.
I looked up from the flyers and said, “My, you look nice.”
“Thank you. I try to dress for the occasion.” She looked me up and down.
“Don’t look at me like that. Billy said I looked good.”
“He would. He’s your husband. A skirt would’ve been more suitable.”
“Forget it, Mom.” I ignored her remark. “Look here. I found something interesting. Did you read all the details about these missing animals?”
As soon as I said that, the doorbell rang.
“I guess we’ll have to talk about this later,” Mom said as she went to answer the door.
“I didn’t hear anyone come up, Mom. Look through the side panel before you open the door.”
Mom did as I asked and then said, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s Daisy. We’re safe from the dognappers.”
“I’m not so sure about...”
“Come on in,” Mom said to her guest. “We were just talking about you. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Jesse to go to the funeral with me. I felt as if I needed her support, and it would give her an opportunity to get to know you. She’s been dying to meet you. I’ve told her about how much fun we have when we’re together.”
I got up from the kitchen table and walked into the living room, extending my hand as I came face-to-face with a real life serial killer disguised as a nice, old lady.
“It’s so good to meet you. How are you doing?” I asked, sizing her up in my own inconspicuous way.
Daisy was barely five feet tall and was the tiniest thing. She looked to weigh about a hundred pounds soaking wet. Her hair was dyed a light shade of brown—I say dyed because I saw a couple of gray hairs poking through. She had more diamonds on her fingers than I’ve ever seen one person wear, except my new friend in D.C., Abigail Morgan. Abby likes to dress well and so does this woman. I’m not a fashion bug, but I know fine clothing, and Daisy was definitely dressed in the best. She wore a black fitted skirt and jacket with a white silk blouse. I tried to count the diamonds in her broach without being obvious. Yes, this woman knew how to dress well and clearly had the money to do it.
“I’ve heard so much about you from Mom. It’s just such a shame we had to meet under these terrible circumstances. I’m so sorry about Alice Aikens. Mom said y’all were such good friends.” I looked around. “Where’s your husband?”
“He’s waiting in the car. He doesn’t want to go, so he’s being difficult. You’ll have to excuse him today. He’s been acting rather strangely ever since Alice died.”
A red flag went up. “Did he know her well?” I asked.
“No, he hardly knew her at all. He’s a kind man and a thing like this bothers him so.”
I bet.
“It’s so sad,” Daisy said, a tear coming to her eye. “She had become a terrific friend in such a short time. I only knew her for a few months, but in those months, we’d become very close. This is just so sad... so hard.”
Mom coughed and her face turned red. “Excuse me, but I need a glass of water.” She turned and walked quickly to the kitchen.
I leaned forward and said, “You’ll have to excuse my mother. She’s been very upset since she found out about Alice. She’s also angry that someone would run Alice off the road. She was murdered, you know.”
“What?” Daisy asked, stunned. She seemed genuinely surprised at what I had said.
“Didn’t you know? The police have an eyewitness who swears Alice was run off the road. She even gave them a description of the car.”
Mom coughed louder.
I looked across the bar that divides the living room from the kitchen and asked, “Are you all right, Mom?”
“I’m going to be fine.” She gave me one of her looks as if she wanted me to shut up. She probably thought I’d given out too much information, but I thought it best to lay the cards on the table.
As we walked to the car, Mom pinched me lightly on the arm. “Stop telling her everything. You’re going to get us both killed.”
“Not if we don’t eat her food or ride in separate cars,” I joked.
“I mean it, Jesse. Watch what you say. You’re making me nervous.”
“Come on, ladies,” Daisy called out to us. “We need to hurry or we’re going to be late.”
I was introduced to Gabe, and during the fifteen minute ride to the Stanardsville Funeral Home, he didn’t say two words after he greeted us. I found his attitude and his silence to be suspicious. It made me wonder if he may have had a thing for Alice during her short relationship with Daisy. If that was the case, he’d better not let Daisy find out, or his days would be numbered. Or, could his aloofness be due to the fact that he suspected his wife, or even knew she had done some pretty horrible things. Did he know Daisy killed Alice, and if he did, did he also know something about the deaths of Pat Johnson and Harriett Shifflett? I wondered.
The funeral home was packed with important people of the community as Daisy put it—high-end people. She whispered to Mom and daintily pointed to people whom she said were of importance. These people were held in high regard, according to her and many of them were close friends of Alice. I think I was probably the only one who noticed the sneer on Daisy’s face when she said everybody liked Alice.
After the service, we stood and mulled around, taking the opportunity to mingle, shake hands and talk about the awful way Alice had met her fate. I had a chance to talk with Gabe briefly and came to the conclusion that he was not only a well-dressed man with plenty of money, but he was also a very nice man. How he ended up with someone like Daisy was beyond me. They were as different as night and day.
I no longer suspected Gabe of carrying a torch for Alice; he was hiding Daisy’s secret.
Eventually, we followed other cars in procession to the cemetery. My breasts were about to explode and I was so glad when we finally made it back to Mom’s house. I waved to Daisy and her husband as they pulled out of the driveway and then ran to the bathroom. Again, Mom was right. I was so glad I had brought my breast pump. I put the toilet seat down, sat down and then went to work.
“Do you want me to call Billy?” Mom asked through the bathroom door.
I could hardly hear her over the hum of the electric breast pump, so I leaned forward and opened the door a crack. “What did you say?”
Mom appeared embarrassed as she stood at the door, looking at my breasts. She turned her back and asked me again, “Do you want
me to call Billy?”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Mom,” I said.
“What will they come up with next?” She turned around and looked at me. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that gadget.”
“It works wonders, Mom. It’s much better than one of those hand things I’ve seen. With one of those, I’d be here all day.”
“I’ll go call Billy and let him know we’re still alive.”
“Tell him I’m not coming home. It’d be crazy for me to go all the way home and then come back when we only have a couple hours before we meet Crazy Daisy and Gabe for dinner.”
“I was thinking the same thing. It would take almost that long for you to get there and back, and with the price of gas being what it is…”
“Yeah, call Billy and tell him I’ll be home after we have dinner with the Middle River killer.”
“Hey… the Middle River murders.” Mom let out a sigh. “That would almost be funny if it wasn’t true.” She turned and walked away, leaving me to my task.
I was putting the two small bottles of milk in the built-in ice chest compartment when I heard a loud explosion. It sounded as if a tree had fallen on the house. I closed up the bag, buttoned up my blouse and hurried to the kitchen.
I heard Mom scream as soon as I rounded the corner. I looked around and saw that the back door to the utility room was open and splinters of broken wood were scattered everywhere. When I saw the man, I temporally froze as if someone had hit the pause button on the remote, but it didn’t take me long to assess the situation. Within seconds, I reacted. I looked around the living room and picked up the first heavy object I could find—one of Dad’s bowling trophies.
The intruder looked as if he were a rabid dog. He drooled and made grunting sounds that would frighten even the hardest of die-hard fans of scary movies. I could smell the odor of death on him… and he was chasing Mom around the kitchen table.
Mom stopped running when she got around to the phone on the wall, grabbed up the receiver and slammed it across the man’s head, repeatedly hitting him, until finally, she dropped the bloody thing and ran to the kitchen counter.
The intruder tripped over the cord and was temporarily entangled just long enough for Mom to get away. Once he regained his footing, he went after her, jumped her from behind and pinned her against the kitchen counter. He had his arm around Mom’s throat in a stranglehold. She reached out, fumbled to grab a butcher knife from the holder, and then finally pulled one from the slot. She managed to turn around to face him.
I ran up behind the man, raised my weapon high above his head and then brought it down with all my strength just as Mom swung around with the butcher knife and stabbed him in the neck.
Blood squirted everywhere. It was as if someone had turned on a garden hose, covered the hole with a thumb and then let up on the thumb just enough to release a burst of water. Except this wasn’t water; it was his blood. The intruder fell to the floor. The bloody tip of the blade poked through on the opposite side of his neck. Blood poured from his wounds, until finally, the flow stopped.
Mom and I stared at each other in disbelief and disgust, our arms hanging to our sides. We were covered in his blood.
I still had the trophy in my hand as I looked down and saw his blood drip from Mom’s fingertips.
Chapter 10
She rarely left her house, except to go to church or to take an occasional drive over the mountain to Skyline Drive, Elkton or Harrisonburg, depending on her mood. The scenic drive was a distraction to the everyday loneliness that would overcome her sometimes since her husband had passed away.
A jaunt to the grocery store in town only happened once a month, because it was a necessity. The minute she got into her car, she would immediately lock her doors.
The outside world had become a dangerous place.
At her home on the hill, she felt secure and could get much pleasure just by sitting out on the balcony, looking at her beautiful surroundings.
When the flowers were in bloom and the trees were filled with their greenery, it was a wonderful sight to behold.
She had always wondered why some people didn’t seem to appreciate the great outdoors as much as she did, but most of all, she wondered why people isolated themselves. They would go to work, come home, and then stay inside the rest of the day. What a dull life they must have.
She loved spring and summer, but fall was her favorite time of year. The colorful leaves and cool, crisp nights made for enjoyable evenings. She would sit and watch as the world continued on its journey.
She had the best things that life could offer and once had a husband who treated her like a queen. She had been so happy when her husband was alive. She was still happy, but it wasn’t the same.
Most folks would say that she had lived a privileged life. She grew up in a good, family environment, married a wonderful man, and had raised two terrific kids.
She’d had it all, until one day, the Grim Reaper had come and taken her husband. That was a terrible day; one she would never forget. His death still haunts her. Could she have saved him? Was there anything else she could’ve done?
She remembers that day as if it was yesterday.
The two of them had just finished a lovely dinner when her husband complained of indigestion. He got up from the table, went to the sofa to lie down for a minute, and then two hours later, he was dead from a heart attack.
If it hadn’t been for the love and companionship of her caring children, she surely would’ve died right along with the man she had loved for over fifty years.
But she managed to persevere. She knew she had to go on with her life without him. What else could she do?
For two years, her grown children visited her and made sure that she never spent a holiday alone. But then the grandkids came along and then her children were too busy for her.
Even though they knew she had a difficult time driving in the city, they still didn’t seem to have the time to drive out to visit her.
After a while weeks passed into months, until finally their visits stopped altogether. They would still call her at least once a month, but it seemed as if they’d forgotten about her.
She spent many lonely days and nights alone.
Sometimes she’d get really angry at her children for deserting her, but then she’d remember how they had been there for her when she really needed them, and her anger would subside.
They had a life filled with children and their time was valuable. They worked all day and wanted to spend their free time with their kids. She couldn’t possibly hold that against them.
So she reconciled herself to being happy that she was alive, healthy and living in a nice home.
Unfortunately, she had also become a recluse. She spent most of the day, every day, out on her balcony watching birds, the weather, and anything else that struck her fancy.
She had become one of those folks she said she would never become. She had become a hermit.
After a while, she found out that she’d gotten so used to being alone that she liked it. She liked having her privacy. She liked the fact that she had no responsibilities to anyone but herself.
At one time she’d thought about getting a pet, but decided against the idea. She told herself that a pet would take up too much of her time.
But she knew that was just an excuse. The fact is, she was biding her time until she could be reunited with her husband, and she didn’t want to leave a beloved pet behind. Who would take care of it when she was no longer around?
Besides, she’d been quite busy lately. There were things going on around her that caught her attention.
She’d been keeping her eyes on the happenings of her neighbors down the hill from her.
Cars would come and go at their house all the time. At first she thought that there might be drug activity, but quickly realized that her imagination was getting the best of her. These people were her age... too old to be involved in something like that. No, they were just
living their lives.
She had been so busy watching her neighbors that day that she never suspected that within a matter of minutes, her journey through life would soon be over. Her time on this earth would be no more.
A knock on the door signaled the end of a life that had once been lived to the fullest.
She would no longer be able to enjoy the chirping of birds or the brilliance of the sun as it rose over the mountain peaks.
Snatched from her home, she was thrown into the trunk of a car and into total darkness. When the lid was slammed shut, she knew she’d never see another sunrise.
She lay in the trunk and wondered why this woman would do this to her.
It didn’t matter anymore, because although her body would be lost, her soul would be in heaven.
She would be with her husband once again.
Her body was discovered locked in the trunk of a police car at the far end of a grocery store parking lot in Ruckersville.
Chapter 11
Mom’s kitchen is usually cozy, tidy and the hub of all family gatherings, but not today. Today, it was a blood-splattered room with a dead man lying on the floor between us; his blood had poured from his wounds. Pools of his blood had spread, covering the floor, and now both of us were standing in it.
I was sick to my stomach. I’ve been in some pretty nasty situations since I’d taken up a new career as a private investigator, but this was the worst. What happened here today was a nightmare that I was afraid my mother would never wake up from. This was violence at the ultimate level. Death brushed by so close to us, it almost took us with it.
Mom didn’t shed a tear—that’s what scared me the most. She was obviously in shock, but once reality set in, I was afraid her mental state would collapse. I set the trophy down on the counter and then reached out and took her hand. I lead her away from the body.
“Come on, Mom. We need to call the sheriff.”
“Look at me, Jesse. I’m covered in his blood.” She turned and looked down at the floor. “Who is that man? I’ve never seen him around here. Why would he do something like this, Jesse?”