by Liz Turner
She nodded, running her fingers through her pretty black hair and wiping her face. “Goodbye, Margie. Thank you for the visit.” Kitty touched her shoulder and then winked at Ray, who blushed in response. It wasn’t the first time someone had mistaken them as a couple, and it surely wouldn’t be the last, but it no longer bothered Margie. Let people think what they wanted.
Ray and Margie walked back to their car, silent. Margie felt even more tired than she had before; her feet throbbed, and her back ached. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to sleep that night.
She got into the car, buckling her seat belt. “Well, that was a bust.”
“I think we need to look into this Julia woman; the cousin. I think that she might have been trying to move things along and didn’t know that Martha had already gotten the paperwork together. We’ll see if she was in town; I doubt she lives here. Most of Kitty’s family are city folk.” Ray scratched his chin, his eyes locked on the road. “Most likely she’s not around if she wasn’t invited to the wedding. I’ll give Kitty’s aunt a ring tomorrow and see if I can track her down.”
Margie sat in silence for a long time, long enough that Ray cleared his throat. “Hey, Margie?”
But she was already fast asleep, her head tilted awkwardly to one side. Ray glanced at her and smiled. So he drove the rest of the way to her apartment in silence, listening to the sounds of the road as the buildings flew by in the night.
Chapter 8
Little had changed at the precinct since Margie moved here years back. It was still on Main Street, nestled between a barber shop and the town bakery owned by Dolly, a friend of hers. She was a very young woman who already had three children. She also was a transplant from another small town in the country. Much like Margie, she’d left home for the big city and ended up here. It happened to a lot of people; they would leave home, and the train station would drop them off here. There was something wonderful about this place; it seemed to be very alive and full of history. Margie had only planned to stay a week or so and just ended up dropping her plans to go to the city after falling in love with Bristol.
Dolly ended up doing much the same thing. After passing through Bristol at 15, she ended up studying under the last man to own this place. A few years later, she’d inherited the bakeshop from him when he passed away. Margie glanced around the pink and blue interior; it looked like some sort of magical candy land inside. Giant paper cupcakes and candies hung from the ceiling, and the floor tiles were interrupted by small, oval tiles colored to look like sprinkles. Part candy confectionery and part cake bakery, the lines here were always wrapped around the block on weekends. Lucky for Margie, the kids, were still in school when she stopped by looking for Dolly.
“Well, I’ll be,” Dolly said, her hands covered to the elbows in flour and sugar. “Come here, Margie and let me see you.”
“How’s it going in here, Dolly?”
“As you can see we did a little remodeling. The floor was damaged when one of the pipes burst, so we redid the floor.” Dolly’s huge grin turned a little sad. “I think the old man would have liked it though, if he were still around to see it.” She pressed her hands to her ample hips, getting flour all over her pretty polka dot dress. Even her red, curly hair, tied back in a bun and wrapped up in a handkerchief, was still streaked with flour. “How has school been treating you, Margie?”
“It’s great; I have finished the first half, and I’m doing an apprenticeship over at Bevin’s place, the Cakes and Bakes out by the train station.”
Dolly’s blue eyes lit up. “That place is so groovy, Margie. I’ve heard nothing but the best. Half the wedding cakes I do are ordered by them. You’ll learn quite a bit there.”
“I hear business is going well here,” Margie said, sitting down at one of the painted tables scattered around the floor. Dolly sat down across from her, wiping her hands on her apron.
“I’ve gotten some big jobs; people are starting to trust me like they did Old Man Henry; I’m really coming into it here.”
“Perhaps you can give me pointers on starting my own place.”
Dolly tilted her head, the light in her startlingly blue eyes going dull. “You are thinking of leaving then?”
Instead of answering, she just nodded, ignoring the questions in Dolly’s eyes. “Thinking about it. Do you have something special I can bring for the guys next door? I’m going to go visit Officer Ray Brighton and the whole force deserves a treat if you got it.”
Laughing, Dolly allowed Margie to change the subject. “Sure thing, sugar. Here, no charge. Take these two dozen assorted scones, cookies, and doughnuts. They're on the house for the boys in blue.”
“Thanks.”
“Is Officer Brighton working on the Justice case?” Dolly asked, her eyebrows knitting together.
Margie nodded sadly. “Yes, he is.”
“That poor darling. Kitty has had to put up with her parents arguing for years, then her cousin Julia too. Now this? It’s a mess, poor thing.”
Margie’s ears perked up. “What do you know about her cousin Julia?” she asked as casually as possible. “I heard she was after Kitty’s father for years.”
“Oh she was too; guess she gets him now? Poor Kitty. Julia was in here with Martha a couple of days before the wedding; Martha was paying for the rest of the cake. Everyone always said she was a drunk, but she looked so clear-eyed...” Dolly shrugged, then went behind to counter to grab them both coffees. Margie poured some cream into hers and thanked her as she sat back down. “Guess you can’t tell, though. Anyway, Julia came in after her, and they started arguing quietly in the corner. Julia stormed out of here, fire coming out of her eyes and Martha’s hands were shaking as she paid me.”
“I see. Well, Julia and Martha never got along with one another, from what I hear,” Margie said, dismissively, but tucked the tidbit of information away for later. “Oh, I almost forgot! Do you have a copy of the receipt Martha signed for the wedding cake? I promised Ray I’d ask for him since he’s too busy to eat right now.”
“Oh, sure thing, doll. You know I’d do anything for Ray. Just make sure I get a copy of it back for my records at some point.”
After assuring Dolly she would bring it back as soon as possible, Margie waved as she walked out, her arms weighed down with all of the sweets Dolly had packed into the boxes. They weighed a ton. She must have stuffed every broken cookie and slightly squished pastry into this box. Margie was pretty sure they would explode out onto the table when she opened them up.
Margie entered the precinct to a chorus of greetings. The police knew her well enough; her helping solve crimes with Ray was an open secret here. It was technically against the rules, letting a civilian help with cases, but no one seemed to mind Margie’s presence. She was grateful for that. Apparently, all these guys were still in awe that she had helped to solve that murder case when she first arrived in town.
The policemen all descended on her, grabbing the boxes from her arms to put them out on a central table. She got a plethora of handshakes and thuds on the back. The secretary, Marsha, whose eyes lit up to see her, also gave her a big hug.
“How’s school, Margie?” Officer Maloy asked, his mouth full of a mini crumb cake.
“It’s going well. I’m really excited to be doing my apprenticeship in town.”
That prompted another round of pats on the back. Ray appeared around the corner, his eyes bright. He’d managed to sucker Margie into another case. She was like the partner that the Bristol PD had never been able to afford for him. Margie glanced at him and did a double take.
Ray looked well-rested and calm, the worry line between his brows nearly gone. He laughed along with the jokes, his eyes lighting up like stars. What had happened between yesterday and today to warrant such a good mood? Margie frowned. Maybe it was the cupcakes.
“Good morning, Officer Brighton,” Margie said, her fingers clutched tightly around the receipt. “Do you have a moment for me?”
“Sure t
hing; let me grab us some coffee.” He disappeared into the break room, emerging with two steaming mugs and a roll of paper towels. He dumped the paper towels next to the desserts and then he handed one of the mugs to Margie. After grabbing another cookie, Ray lead Margie to his desk. She nibbled on her chocolate-filled croissant and sipped her coffee. Dolly sure had a way with sweets; the rich chocolate was so delicious. Margie had never had anything like it in her life; perhaps she should be helping Dolly on the weekends to help learn her secrets before going back to school.
Stuffing the last cookie into his mouth, Ray closed his eyes, looking content as he slowly chewed. Margie stared at him. After a minute, he opened his eyes again and grinned at her. “What did you bring me?”
“A receipt,” she answered, slowly, still staring into his face. “Mrs. Martha Justice paid a visit to Dolly’s shop to surprise Kitty by paying for the rest of her wedding cake. She and Julia apparently had a fight in the middle of the store before Julia stormed out.”
Ray took the receipt and glanced it over. It was a simple form; the top half was the receipt for the down payment for the cake. It was signed by both Kitty and Jacob. The bottom half, for the remaining balance, had a different signature. His eyes narrowed when he reached the bottom of the page. “Her signature.”
“It looks steady, doesn’t it? Too steady for an alcoholic’s handwriting. I think Martha found someone else she was in love with and got sober for him. I remembered her handwriting on the divorce papers...”
“Which,” Ray interrupted, “according to her lawyer, she wrote out several months ago.”
“Right, she was waiting for her daughter to be safely married. Her handwriting was much worse back then, so she must have gone into rehab or gone cold turkey on her own.”
Ray nodded. “We found liver damage, but no alcohol in her blood. You think she was serious about this other guy?”
“Serious enough that she was willing to cause a divorce scandal. He must have been quite the catch.” Margie raised her eyebrows.
Ray nodded, his eyes running over the paper in front of him without seeming to see the words. “But who was he? No one in her immediately family seemed to know who this guy was.”
“Martha was a smart woman, and would have wanted to make sure the divorce went as smoothly as possibly. She would have kept an affair under wraps.”
Ray laughed. “You sound like a real detective.”
“I almost am, at this point.”
Ray made a noise at the back of his throat. He was smiling again, the strange glow still radiating from his skin.
“What aren’t you tell me, Ray?”
Ray’s face was tinted pink when he glanced up at her, his eyes a little too wide to truly be innocent. “I don’t know what you mean, Margie.”
Margie made a face and crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened last night?”
His face turned a slightly darker shade of pink. His blush skin including his nose and cheeks, made him look ten years younger. Fidgeting with things on his desk, he said, “Nothing happened, Margie. But we really need to talk to Julia; did Dolly happen to know where she is staying?”
Margie’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him, “She didn’t mention it.” She decided to let his weird behavior slide for now. But seriously, Ray had never kept anything from her before. What was going on that he didn’t want her to know about? “I need to head home and change before work, but you let me know what you find out from Julia if you find her.” Margie stood up, brushing crumbs from her croissant from her skirt. “We can chat later on, hmm?”
Ray nodded his mind clearly elsewhere.
“Oh, and return that receipt to Dolly when you can; I told her you’d get her copy back ASAP.”
“Goodbye, Margie,” was his only reply.
It was about a twenty-minute walk back to the apartment, so Margie had to move it. She had about an hour to get home, change, and get to the bus stop that would take her out to the train station. She walked, but she kept her pace brisk, making sure to wave at everyone she knew but avoid getting caught up in conversation. She still had to fend a few people off. Carol from the corner store wanted to ask her about school and the McCoy boys tried to get her to stop and help with a kite they were trying to fly. The whole town was bustling with life, and Margie had to run by it all. It would all be worth it, some day.
Chapter 9
Feeling defeated, Margie collapsed onto her bed. She closed her eyes while trying to even out her breathing. Everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. If she breathed, closed her eyes, and focused on it long enough, perhaps she would one day believe it. She was exhausted, and her whole body ached. Her stomach and heart were sore after long days of fending off sabotages and tricks from the men at work. Even with Marlin’s help, it still made for a long day. She’d even tried to make friends, asking for pointers and pretending to be in awe at their skill.
But that got her nowhere.
She has actually been dressed down for tripping with an armful of pans and breaking one of the glass baking dishes. She promised to pay for a new one despite the fact that she had “accidentally” tripped over one of the men’s feet as she was walking. Note to self: carry less around at a time. That way, you can always see your feet.
She sighed and rolled over onto her side. Unable to stop replaying the worst parts of her day over and over again in her mind, she instead tried focusing on the case. More than anything in the world, Margie wanted to give Kitty some closure. Knowing who killed her mother, and why, would probably help her to sleep better at night. If only she could figure out who did it?
She was hung on Kitty’s wedding day in a public community center with tons of people going in and out. The rope was pretty standard and could have been bought almost anywhere. She was redressed. Her cousin was jealous. Her daughter seemed supportive of the divorce, but she could have been lying. Martha was a drunk, but not recently. She rolled over again, her head throbbing with the details of the case. If Carlton had found out his wife wanted a divorce, he might have killed her. But why would he have redressed her?
Why would anyone have redressed her?
The murder had to do with her affair. So who was Martha having an affair with? Margie’s thoughts swirled around in her mind. She was too tired to sleep and too achy to move. She just lay there, letting thoughts of the case and her failures swirl around inside her until she was about to go mad.
“Margie?” A knock came at her door. Camelia was standing in her doorway, looking happy. “I finally caught you! We live together, and I haven’t seen you almost all week. How is everything going?”
She wouldn’t lie to Camelia, not like she would to almost everyone else. So she told her the truth. Margie told her about the case and how it was haunting her. She also told Camelia about the hazing at work and the guy who tripped her and the one who poured salt in her soup.
Once the words started, Margie couldn’t seem to stop them. She was crying, and the tears wouldn’t stop either. Camelia sat down on the edge of the bed, holding Margie’s hand. The concern on her face was reassuring.
“Sometimes, it feels like I’ll never solve anything. I’ll never finish school, I’ll never find out who killed Kitty’s mother, and I’ll just be stuck in this frustrating moment forever. I know it’s not true, but...”
Camelia nodded, her eyes roving to the window, where they watched the sun set, sinking over the treetops and turning the sky to liquid peach and lilacs. Sunsets were unusually pretty here; the colors this close to the city were extra bright and brilliant.
“I know what you mean; feeling like you’re stuck,” Camelia whispered, her voice cracking a little as she spoke. Margie eyed her suspiciously. There was something odd in the way she said it, but Margie wouldn’t push the issue.
“Come on, let’s go to dinner at the Big Easy. And it’s my treat before you go complaining about being broke too. Come on; we need to spend some time together. Tell me about Mr. Bevins and the nice
guy at work.” Camelia hooked her arm in Margie’s, and Margie mopped up her tears with her sleeve. “Is he cute?”
They walked together to the Big Easy, Margie’s steps feeling much lighter than they had in days. She told Camelia about all of the good things that had happened over the last few days and felt her spirit lighten a little with each word. She told her about Dolly’s free sweets and coffee with Ray and how good of a teacher Marlin was, even though she was a girl.
By the time they reached the diner, all of her tears had dried. Smiles returned to both of their faces. Everything would be fine.
Camelia ordered them coffees and stacks of waffles with extra butter. “Time for some much-needed sugar,” Camelia said, winking at her. “So, I spoke to Dolly this afternoon. She told me you were planning on possibly opening up your own place. Outside of Bristol.”
“There’s just not enough room for me here, Camelia.” Margie touched her friend's hand with her fingers, a sad smile crossing her lips. “I could work for someone, but it would be more of the same sabotage and hazing and bullying. It’s really hard to work when people are always messing with you. No, I need my own place. And if there’s no room for me in Bristol, I’ll start again somewhere else.”