Dying to Celebrate

by Lynn Cahoon

  “In the adult books.” I went to refill my coffee. “So what else did you want to know about Thomas?”

  She listed off what she did know and I flipped open my notebook, adding to each point I had in my notes. “There isn’t much more to say. Except, I’m going to deliver cookies to a couple of places today. Maybe I’ll find out more.”

  “Someone’s going to have a very merry Christmas if you and Greg figure out where the money is supposed to go.” Sasha sighed as she sipped her coffee. “That much money would be enough to put a down payment on a house. Prices are crazy here on the coast. That’s why I’m not even looking until I have my degree. Who knows where Olivia and I will wind up. I don’t want to have to worry about a house I need to sell.”

  “I know I’m not going to get my Christmas wish, but I kind of hope you find some rich guy, marry him, and stay around. I’d miss talking to you if you move across the country.”

  “My future mantra is ‘show me the money.’ But honestly, I’d rather work for it myself than be given it by some guy. And if I do marry well, as my gran says, I’ll be sure to tuck some money away into a rainy day fund. Just in case. Like I said, you never know about men.”

  “Sounds like a smart plan.” I glanced at the clock. “Well, if I’m going to get to Bakerstown and see Doc Ames before he closes for his afternoon nap, I better get going. Are you working tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Toby had a shift with Greg come up so he asked me to cover his slot.” She held up her hand, warding off what she thought I was going to say. “I need the hours. If he wants to give them to me, I’m not going to complain. No matter the reason behind why he can’t work.”

  “It’s your life.” I smiled to soften the words. “I just don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

  “I’m a big girl. I know Toby’s Kryptonite for me. I just need to keep our relationship at the friends and coworkers level. Dating someone in South Cove would be too hard. How do you break up with someone you see every day?”

  Sasha’s question hung with me all the way to Bakerstown. As soon as I’d arrived at the house after leaving work, I’d moved the cookies from their hiding place out of Emma’s reach to the car. Then I’d grabbed the leash and my dog. The day was turning out to be cool and beautiful, so since I wouldn’t be at either of my stops long, I’d decided to take Emma with me on the road. She sat in the front, glancing back at the rear of the vehicle where I’d stored the cookies. I had a police-type wire enclosure that either kept her in or out of the back of the vehicle, depending on my mood. Today, I wanted her front and center with me. Mostly so I could talk out my different theories with her. She never interrupted and rarely told me I was stupid for even thinking that way. Of course, Greg never said stupid either, but he did get this sad expression when he found out I was investigating something he’d told me to stay out of.

  I really needed to get a new hobby.

  I pulled into the empty parking lot and rolled Emma’s window down. I went into the back and got one of the premixed bags of cookies I’d made on Wednesday night. Then I grabbed a second. Doc Ames lived alone and from what I knew didn’t have many friends. I suppose that being the doctor of the dead kept people from bonding, even if the guy was one of the sweetest men in Bakerstown. I locked the doors and went to the home. Wandering through the empty building, I got the creeps.

  Luckily, Doc Ames must have heard me come in, as he popped out of a doorway and asked, “Can I help you?” He blinked in the dim light. “Oh, Jill, I didn’t realize it was you. Is this a personal or professional visit?”

  “Kind of both. I brought cookies.” I followed him back into his office and set my tote on one of the two visitor chairs. “And I wanted to pick your brain a little. I wanted to find out what you knew about Thomas Raleigh.”

  “Oh, Thomas. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him when I did the autopsy. You know we went to school together here at Bakerstown High.” He poured two cups of coffee and slid one over to me. “He played football and was in the concert band. Trumpet, if I remember.”

  I knew this was the right place to come. Doc Ames knew everyone in the area. “Was he dating anyone?”

  “Of course. He and Lizzie were joined at the hip as soon as she showed up her freshman year. He was a junior so her folks weren’t too happy about his attention. But they stayed together, no matter what the problems. When he went off to the army, she…” Doc Ames bit into a cookie, frowning a little. “I think she must have moved away. I was away at college, but you hear things, especially when you come back. And her folks moved her to Washington or Idaho.”

  “Maybe Oregon?” I prompted the memory.

  He nodded. “That was it. A little town up in the mountains. And that’s the last I heard about Lizzie. Thomas came home the year I went to medical school. I hear he tried to find her, but there wasn’t any trace. I guess her parents won that war after all.”

  He sipped his coffee and ate another cookie. “I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t follow up with Thomas after I got back. I’d just gotten married and my father was ready for me to take over, so my days and nights were filled with either my family or the dead. Then I was talked into taking on the job of county coroner, and the years flew by.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” I sipped my coffee. “Greg was saying he died of natural causes.”

  “Oh, he did. But maybe if I’d been a better friend, he wouldn’t have wound up homeless and on the streets for the last few years of his life.” He shook his head at the memory. “Regrets are just a way of not dealing with today. You can’t change the past, now, can you?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  We sat in silence as we finished our coffee. Then I stood. “Thanks for talking to me. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

  “I’m not sad, and you didn’t make me feel bad. I’m just thinking about the past. And when I get down that trail, sometimes it’s hard to pull myself out. I’m planning on coming down for your party on Saturday. I’ve decided I need to find a senior cat who’s as grumpy and hard to get along with as I am. That way, we’ll suit each other just fine.”

  I hurried out to the car. Emma sat on the seat, watching the door to the funeral home. When I came out, she barked at me.

  “I’m coming. Sorry, I needed to talk to Doc Ames for a bit.” Before I got into the car, I clipped on her leash and led her to the sidewalk and the strip of grass between the parking lot and the road. “Do your business.”

  Emma found a tree and watered it, then came back to my side. I always carried water and a bowl in the car so I got it out and poured her a drink. When I figured she was satisfied, we loaded up and got ready to go to our next stop.

  The Veterans Center was in its own building just down the street from the mortuary. I guess they got a good deal on the property since most people don’t want to live down the street from the place where they take care of the dead.

  I checked Emma’s window, grabbed the rest of the cookies, then locked up the doors. “You be good. I’ll be right back out and we’ll go for a run on the beach when we get home.”

  This time, I could see the grin on her face. Dogs. Who says they can’t understand what we say?

  I walked up the few steps, then into the open lobby area. People sat around what looked like an oversize living room. A few men played cards at a table. In the back, I could see a dining room set up and the room smelled like pasta and garlic bread. I started to move toward a large desk where a man sat, but Beth from the Christmas tree lot stopped me. She had her jacket on and a purse over her shoulder. Apparently, she was leaving.

  “Hey, how’d the tree work out for you?” Beth smiled and shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t remember your name, but that tree was gorgeous. And your man came back on Monday and bought two more. I adore repeat customers. I hope to see you next year.”

  “Definitely. The tree is beautiful.” I glanced around the
room. “Are you visiting someone?”

  She shook her head. “Volunteering. I come in a few times a week and help with lunch. It’s the least I can do for people who have given so much for this country.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the lot. You leave those boys alone long enough, they’ll start playing Paul Bunyan and throwing axes at each other.” She shook her head. “Don’t laugh, it’s happened.”

  “Thanks again for the tree,” I called out as she took off for the door.

  When I turned back around, the guy at the desk was watching me. “Let me guess, cookie exchange?”

  “Does my desperation show on my face?” I walked over and dropped the tote bag filled with cookies. “Can I donate them? The exchange was just on Wednesday. They should be fresh.”

  “Of course. The guys love a little homemade now and then. A lot of these guys have either lost their spouse or never remarried after an early divorce.” He leaned into the tote and took out one of the bags of the Russian tea cakes. “I love these. My mom used to make them.”

  “Thank you for taking the cookies.” I glanced around and wondered if I should press my luck. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.” He opened the bag and took a big whiff of the vanilla. “These may not make it back to the guys to share.”

  I smiled as he popped a whole cookie into his mouth. “I’ve been doing some research on someone who was a veteran. I wondered if he’d ever come in the center.”

  “You’re talking about Thomas, aren’t you?” When he saw the shock on my face, he laughed. “Don’t think I’m a mind reader or nothing. It’s just a small town. People talk, especially when one of us dies.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “Do you mind?” I nodded to a chair near the desk.

  He stood and moved it toward me. “Sorry, I should have offered you a seat. Anyway, what do you want to know about Thomas?”

  I waited for him to return to his own chair. I was looking farther into the past, but maybe talking to this guy who had known him recently would give me some clues. “How often did he come in here?”

  “When I first came on, about ten years ago—man, I can’t believe I’ve been here ten years.” He shook his head. “Anyway, he was here when I got here. He’d come in most days, scan the paper and make some calls. If he got a day job, he’d miss a few days, then he’d be back. The guy was driven, you know?”

  “Did you ever talk to him about his high school sweetheart?”

  He laughed and took another cookie. “Dude, that’s all Thomas wanted to talk about. It’s a sad story. He went into the army and her folks moved her away. He’s been, I mean, was, looking for Lizzie all his life. Anytime he’d have enough in his pocket for a train ticket, he’d ride up to Oregon and try to find her. Now that’s love.”

  “But lately?” When I saw the confused look, I repeated the man’s words. “You said when you first got here, that is what he was doing. What was his behavior the last few months?”

  “He’d only show up for meals, then take off. He always had that dog with him.” A sad smile creased his face. “He’d talk more to the dog than to anyone here. After a while, we just let him be.”

  This was not what I wanted to hear. Maybe I’d never find out what happened to Thomas and Lizzie. Some stories didn’t end with a bang; instead, they fizzled out. Emma was waiting in the car and I needed to go. I stood and reached into my bag. I scribbled on the back. “Thank you for your time. I’m Jill Gardner. I run the coffeehouse in South Cove. If you’re ever in town, stop by, give that to whoever is the barista and I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “That’s nice of you.” He pocketed the card. “I’m Ben Woodsmen. And I better get back to decorating the tree before Christmas comes and goes.”

  I turned toward his nod. A fresh tree sat in the corner, recently delivered. “Did that come from Beth at Lumberjack Phil’s Christmas Pines?”

  “She’s such a wonderful lady. She donates a tree every year. And she’s in here a lot to help cook, although the last few weeks she’s been too busy with the lot to spend much time here. I noticed you two talking on your way in. Did you buy a tree from her?”

  Nodding, I realized a connection was starting to form in my head. “Ben, did Thomas bond with anyone or did anyone show him any specific interest?”

  “Funny question, but now that I’m thinking about it, Beth was always asking if he’d been in to eat. She worries about some of our older guys since they sometimes think they can drink their calories from a bottle. She always made sure she touched base with Thomas on the days he came in.”

  “Hey Ben, where’s the box with the lights? We have to put those on first.” An older man was looking through a large cardboard box on a table near the tree.

  “Sorry, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, and thanks for the cookies.”

  As I left the building, I saw Emma watching for me. Her head was laying on the dashboard like she’d been waiting forever instead of the ten minutes I’d been in the center. The weather was still cool, but soon, it would be too hot to leave her in the car for even that long. We went through our routine as I let her out and gave her water. This time, she didn’t drink as much. My mind was on Thomas.

  When we got on the road, I called Amy using my car’s Bluetooth. When she answered, I asked for a favor. “Could you call your counterpart in Bakerstown and find out who is the owner on record for Lumberjack Phil’s Christmas Pines?”

  “Something wrong with your tree? I love the ones Greg bought for the station and the conference room. Something about pine screams Christmas.”

  “No. I just have a theory.” I turned into a local drive-in, Buster’s Burgers, and Emma leaned her head out of the window, catching all the smells. I needed to delay my exit from Bakerstown until I got the information. “Can you call me right back?”

  “Sure. Be back in a few.”

  Both Emma and I had finished our burgers by the time Amy called back. The dog was eyeing my fries, but she’d had an unfortunate stomach incident the last time I’d fed her fries and I didn’t need her messing up my carpet.

  “Sorry that took so long. Terri wasn’t in the office so I called her cell. She’s out Christmas shopping this afternoon, but she’ll call me first thing in the morning with the info. Will that work?”

  “It will have to.” I batted down Emma’s paw as she tried to move the fries closer to her seat. “Thanks for doing this. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Want to grab lunch?”

  I glanced at the clock; it was past one. “Sorry, Emma and I just got hamburgers. Should I go back through the drive-up and get you something?”

  “No. I have a salad in the fridge. I just wanted to get out of here for a while. The place is dead. The mayor and Tina took off for two weeks on a cruise of the Caribbean on Monday. So I’m almost caught up on filing. I guess I’ll have to read to pass the time.”

  “Nice work if you can get it,” I teased.

  “Hey, you shouldn’t talk. You read at the shop all the time.” We made plans for brunch on Sunday and hung up. I glanced over at Emma, who was still plotting a way to get the rest of the fries. Instead, I bagged them up with the trash and threw it in a trash can near the parking lot. Returning to the car, I could see the question in her eyes. Why did you throw away such yummy goodness?

  “It’s for your own good.” I started the engine and headed toward the coastal highway. By the time we got there, Emma had forgotten her disappointment and was hanging her head out the window to grab all the ocean smells.

  My investigation was at a dead end until tomorrow. So this afternoon, Emma and I would run the beach.

  * * * *

  Friday morning the shop was, if possible, even slower than it had been the prior day. I finished off all of Aunt Jackie’s party prep list, cleaned the entir
e front of the shop, and still had time to sit with a mocha and a new book before Sasha came in to replace me.

  Just before ten, Amy called. “Did you know, the owner of Lumberjack Phil’s Christmas Pines is not a guy named Phil. Funny how that happens.”

  “So who owns it?”

  “A woman named Elizabeth Ann Ries. She’s owned it from the beginning. And before you ask, she also owns a house near Big Rock Point off the highway between here and Bakerstown.” She read off the address and paused for me to write down the information. “Does this have to do with the secret of Baby’s collar?”

  “Yes. And before you say it, Greg already knows I’m investigating this. For once, I have his permission.”

  I glanced at the clock. I could call Sasha in early. But with Olivia to get ready and Sasha probably studying for some class, I didn’t want to bother her. Toby was working for Greg this weekend. Aunt Jackie would ask too many questions. And Nick, our summer part-time barista, was on a two-week skiing vacation in Aspen.

  Briefly, I entertained the idea of closing until Sasha arrived, but then discarded that as well. I’d just have to wait until my relief showed up before heading out to see if my theory was right. So I went back to reading and ignored the what-ifs running through my brain.

  Just before noon, Ellen from the shelter called. “Just checking in to see if we need to do anything before tomorrow.”

  “I think we’re good. We’ll set up the dogs that get along in an open pen in the children’s section. Santa will be in the dining room. And we’ll have a table in front of the bookshelves for the cats.”

  “Sounds great. Is there a place we can walk the dogs? I know the party is only six hours, but we’ll have to rotate them in and out at least a few times.”

  “We’ve blocked off the back parking lot so it will be available for your use. You can use the back door for easy access.” We had tomorrow’s party planned to a tee. Thanks to my aunt and Sasha. They just let me know what’s going on and I sign the checks.