Detective Tasca turned back to Zoe. “Zoe, this is your elephant, is that right?”
Zoe slouched back in her chair and nodded. She wiped her eyes with the tissue Mom had given her.
“And you kept the toy elephant in your room?”
Zoe looked down at her hands and nodded.
“And Mr. Delaney,” Detective Tasca continued, “you told me you saw these items fall out of the elephant when Zoe placed it in the casket. Is that right?”
He nodded.
“Can you tell us how the elephant and these other items ended up at the funeral home?”
Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “Zoe brought the elephant to the funeral home with her,” he finally replied. “It had been a gift from her Aunt Grace and she…” He broke off and shook his head.
“Zoe,” Detective Tasca said, turning back to her. “Do you know how these items got inside the elephant?”
“No,” Zoe whispered. She closed her eyes and slumped back into her chair. She was doomed now. No matter what she said they probably wouldn’t believe her this time.
Detective Tasca leaned forward and placed her arms on the table. She looked Zoe directly in the eyes. “You put them there, didn’t you, Zoe?” she said.
Zoe sat up and shook her head. “No! That’s not what happened,” she protested. “They were already there. Honest!”
“Then how did these items get inside the elephant, Zoe?” Detective Tasca persisted.
“I didn’t even know they were there!” Zoe paused and took a deep breath. “Really, I didn’t know they were there until the thread in the back of Horton came loose at the funeral home, and they all fell out on the floor when I went to use the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do, so I…” Tears spilled down her cheeks. How stupid she was, trying to hide the evidence—like a common criminal.
“If you didn’t put the items in the elephant how did they get there?” Detective Tasca persisted.
Zoe didn’t answer.
Detective Tasca leaned forward, her arms still resting on the table. “Zoe, I know you want to protect your aunt, but we need to get to the bottom of this—do you understand?”
Mom suddenly straightened up. “I just remembered,” she said, “seeing the stuffed elephant in Grace’s room, the week before…before she died.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “Maybe Grace hid the items in the elephant, hoping no one would find them. After all she was…I mean the fall and the brain injury.”
Detective Tasca looked down at her notes. Then she reached into the large envelope on the table and pulled out a set of x-rays and held them up to the light from the window. “We got these from the hospital where Grace went following the incident where she was pushed and hit her head on a brick wall.ˮ She pointed to a spot on the x-ray. “You can see the contusion right here.ˮ Then she set down the x-rays and pulled out and read the letter Luke had written a few hours before his death saying something wasn’t right—that Grace was behaving strangely.
Dad stared out the window. “I was worried it was something like that,” he finally said, “but I never wanted to believe Grace was capable of…” The words caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead with his fingertips.
“I miss her so much,” Zoe whispered, choking back her tears. She paused, trying to regain her composure. Aunt Grace was forgiven and in heaven now because her brain was not working right. But as for herself—Zoe had no excuse for not doing the right thing—for not telling the police about the journal and the bones of poor Precious buried under that garage floor. And then trying to hide Horton the elephant in her aunt’s coffin. Stupid!!
Dad took a deep breath. “She was a good sister to me. And she was like a second mother to Zoe.”
Detective Tasca looked thoughtful. She glanced at the journal, then over at the plastic evidence bag containing Horton the elephant. Opening the journal, she began leafing through the pages. “Getting back to the journal,” she said, “there was a cryptic passage scribbled in a margin toward the end of the journal. It didn’t make sense to me when I first read it—in fact it was almost illegible. Ah, here it is.” She began reading: The wise beast never forgets but stores treasures inside its great belly—jewels and gold trinkets hidden forever.
She picked up the locket. “KVZ—Kitty Van Zandt,” she said, examining it. “Luke mentioned in the letter we found in his belongings that he was concerned about Grace’s behavior and even alarmed after he found a locket with these initials on it in her makeup bag.ˮ
“Grace probably hid it in the elephant when she returned from Spain and moved in with us,” Mom said.
Detective Tasca flipped to two other entries she had marked in the journal regarding the fire which killed Kitty Van Zandt as well as Grace’s encounter with, and possible murder of, Kitty’s son.
After reading the entries out loud she closed the journal. “Keeping souvenirs like this fits the profile of a serial…” She hesitated and glanced at Zoe.
Zoe’s eyes teared up. “But it wasn’t Aunt Grace who did it!” she insisted. “It was that uber thing that took over her mind! Why won’t you believe me?”
“Zoe,” Mom said, placing a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “We need to let Detective Tasca do her job.ˮ
Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, then said. “I should have done something earlier, when I first noticed the changes in Grace’s behavior.”
“What kind of changes did you notice?” Detective Tasca asked. “Can you be more specific?”
Dad took a deep breath. “She became agitated at times. She seemed like a different person. She wasn’t herself…” He broke off.
“What’s going to happen now?” Mom asked.
Detective Tasca looked through her notes. “Actually,” she said after a few moments, “we have no conclusive evidence here that Grace killed Kitty Van Zandt—or her son. It could have been an accident or even a story Grace made up since the entries were written after the fact. We’ll have to follow up with further investigation.”
They sat in silence for a few moments pondering what they had just learned.
“Am I going to jail?” Zoe whispered, trying to hold back her tears.
“No, Zoe, you’re not going to jail,” Detective Tasca said gently. “There’s not even going to be a trial since Grace—the guilty party—is deceased.”
Zoe looked surprised. “But what about how I hid all that evidence. Isn’t that a crime?”
Detective Tasca shook her head. “For one thing,” she said, “you’re only a child. You tried to protect your Aunt, but you didn’t destroy any of the evidence.”
Zoe breathed a sigh of relief.
“What about Luke’s children? What will they do when they find out what Grace did?” Dad asked.
Detective Tasca took a deep breath. “I’ll have to tell Luke’s children what we found,” she replied. “But my sense is they just want to put this behind them and don’t want to make a public spectacle. And as I mentioned earlier, Grace is no longer alive, so there is no one to charge with a crime.” She paused, then added, “Of course, given what happened, they get all of Luke’s inheritance now, including his house. But you’ll still get the money Grace left you from her own savings.”
Just then, her phone rang. Detective Tasca listened for a moment then said, “Tell them we’re through with the investigation over there,” she replied to the person on the other end. “They can go ahead and pour the floor.”
Through the dining room window Zoe could see Billy coming down her driveway.
“You don’t need to stay, Zoe,” Detective Tasca said, putting away her phone. “You can go now if you want—join your friend outside. I just have some more details to clear up with your parents.”
Zoe pushed her chair back from the table and stood. She hesitated. “What about Billy?” she asked, turning back to Detective Tasca. “Does he have to know what happened to his dog Precious?”
“Not unless he asks,” Detective Tasca replied.
&nbs
p; “But isn’t that like lying?” Zoe asked.
Mom shook her head. “There’s a difference between lying and withholding the truth to spare someone’s feelings.”
Yoda glanced eagerly toward the back door. Zoe leaned over and rubbed his head. “Come on, Yoda, let’s get you outside.”
Heading down the back steps with Yoda, she heard a deep rumble coming from down the street—like surf stirring up pebbles on a beach. She glanced over her shoulder just as a white and green cement mixer came into view, the words Heritage Concrete Company truck #6 written in big letters on its side.
Billy waved as he noticed Zoe. Smiling, he came over and stood beside her.
The cement mixer pulled up in front of the house next door and began backing down the driveway toward the garage.
A man in high rubber boots and cut-off jeans got out of the truck and hooked up the chute at the back of the truck.
“Isn’t this neat?” Billy said, pointing at the cement mixer.
Zoe smiled, although she felt terrible about Precious. She knew she’d want to know if something happened to Yoda. But then again…
She watched as the cement oozed across the dirt floor. Billy was so happy right now.
After a couple of minutes Zoe glanced back at Billy and thought about what Mom and Detective Tasca had said—that some things are best kept secret while others are not—though she wasn’t quite sure how to tell the difference yet.
She sighed. Maybe everything would make more sense when she grew up.
But for now, she didn’t need to be an adult to know she was going to buy Billy a new Chihuahua with the money she got from Aunt Grace.
A word about the author…
Judith Boss is the author of several books including the suspense novel Deception Island (Wild Rose Press, 2015) and five college textbooks, two of which are among the top sellers in their field. She is also the author of several short stories, and newspaper and journal articles.
Prior to pursuing a career in academia, Boss worked as a writer for the Nova Scotia Museum. During her spare time, she tutors at the Job Corps and serves on the peace and justice committee at her church.
An avid traveler, she has been to Antarctica, South America, Australia, and Europe. She has also traveled with students from Brown Medical School to work with underserved indigenous people in Mexico and Guatemala.
Boss currently lives in Rhode Island with her daughter, son-in-law, twin granddaughters, and dog Skylar.
For more information, visit www.judyboss.com
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