In the Event of My Death

by Carlene Thompson

  “Then who?”

  “If I knew that, this mess would be over.”

  Laurel sat down beside him. “Kurt, I found out something important, something about Faith’s mother,” she said earnestly. “I think it could be the key—”

  “Faith’s mother?” Kurt repeated. “Tell me.”

  Without mentioning Neil’s participation, Laurel told Kurt about her visit to the Lewis sisters’ house, meeting Genevra Howard, and the fact that Genevra had spent over twenty years in a mental institution for killing her infant son and had only recently been released.

  Kurt’s face slackened as she talked. “Did she seem crazy to you?”

  “Odd. One minute she’d be perfectly normal, the next minute she’d get this strange look on her face. And she gave me this godawful smile and said she knew Faith didn’t kill herself. She also left six red carnations with a red plastic heart attached on Faith’s grave. She said the heart was part of a key chain Faith had sent her. I’m sure she knows about the Six of Hearts.”

  “And doesn’t believe Faith’s death was suicide, which means she might know—”

  “That we were partially responsible.”

  “Is she still at the Lewis house?”

  “No. She left this morning before the sisters got up. They have no idea where she is. Kurt, I don’t think she’s stable. I even think she might have been here earlier this evening.” She told him about the figure in white that had terrified her earlier. “I know you won’t believe it, but the dogs rescued me. They actually attacked.”

  “You’re right,” Kurt said dryly. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Well, Alex was kicked in the hip and April brought back a piece of bloodstained white cotton.” She got the cloth, which she’d laid on the mantel.

  Kurt looked at it closely. “Can I keep this?”

  “Sure. Maybe you can get a blood type.”

  “With our luck it’ll be the dog’s blood.”

  “Neither of them was bleeding.”

  “Okay. What about the call you got? Can you tell me anything more about the voice?”

  “It was deep and raspy. I couldn’t tell if it was male or female.”

  “Any background noise?”

  Laurel thought a moment. “Not that I can remember.”

  Silence fell between them. It wasn’t a comfortable silence like they used to share. At that moment Laurel knew that whatever had been between them besides friendship was irrevocably gone.

  “Well, I’d better get back to Crystal,” Kurt said. He smiled at her. “Be sure to lock all the doors.”

  “I will.”

  “I know you won’t get a good night’s sleep, but try.”

  “I will.”

  He grinned. “And tell the dogs my opinion has changed. I’m proud of them.”

  Laurel smiled. “I’ll tell them. Good night, Kurt.” As she watched him walk to the car, she thought, Good-bye, Kurt. It was nice while it lasted.

  Kurt had said she wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep. She doubted if she would get any sleep at all. But around midnight she drifted off out of sheer exhaustion. Before long she heard chanting: “Hail, the Lords of Darkness. In the name of the rulers of earth, king of the underworld, rise to this place…” She was aware of being doubled over on the cold floor, her eyes shut. Slowly she opened them. Shadows leaped. Girls holding hands went in a circle. Their feet. Her blurry vision made it seem at first as if there were hundreds of feet. Then they individualized. Some loafers. Some flat-heeled lace-up boots. A pair of water-spotted tan suede boots. Fire. Fire running across the floor, the bale of straw igniting. Screams. Milling around. Pain in her hands and arms. A blast of cold air and being propelled through the dark, wet night.

  Laurel woke up kicking and gasping. The dream. Again. And once again April and Alex had gathered around her, licking her face, trying to free her from her distress.

  She sat up in bed. The dream had been more detailed this time. She didn’t remember ever dreaming about feet and shoes.

  “Wonderful,” she said aloud, brushing her damp hair away from her face. “The dream isn’t going away. It’s just getting worse.”

  Twenty-two

  1

  Laurel arrived at work on time although she was dead tired. Norma had already started coffee. “One more day,” she told the woman who’d brought in home-baked blueberry muffins. Laurel bit into one and closed her eyes. “Scrumptious.”

  “I heard on the news about that Overton woman,” Norma ventured. “She was living with your friend Crystal’s husband, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes. She was murdered at Crystal’s house and naturally the police are suspecting Crystal, which is ridiculous.”

  “Well, I’m not going to ask you a lot of nasty details. I can tell you were up late and had a hard night. I swear, I don’t know what’s happened to this town. You’d think it was New York City or Los Angeles—murders everywhere.”

  “I know. It’s strange, isn’t it?” Laurel said vaguely.

  “This will be a Christmas I won’t forget. We haven’t done one wedding, do you know that? Just funeral after funeral. I don’t know what happened to ‘good will toward men.’”

  “I don’t believe murderers think in those terms.”

  “I guess not, but I don’t understand how anyone could go walking around like a normal person after beating a woman to death.”

  “A normal person couldn’t.”

  Norma shook her head. “Oh, listen to me! I said I wasn’t going to talk about this and I can’t shut my mouth.” She patted Laurel on the shoulder. “You eat two or three of those muffins, honey. You’re getting way too thin.”

  Even though her stomach growled, Laurel couldn’t force down more than one muffin. Tonight was Denise’s visitation. God, how could she go through it? She didn’t even know what was going on with Crystal and Chuck. Had either been arrested? And what about Joyce’s children? Had they been told? Was the ex-husband who twenty-four hours ago threatened to take them from Joyce now on his way to get them?

  Around ten o’clock Wayne Price walked in looking gray, drawn, and ten pounds lighter than the night of the party. “Hello, Laurel,” he said, even his voice sounding thin and shaky, like that of an old man.

  “Wayne!” She started to follow with the traditional “How are you?” but that would be a stupid question. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Two things. One, I wanted a second opinion. I told you daisies were Denise’s favorite flower and you said you’d make a casket blanket mostly with daisies and a few other flowers mixed in for color. Do you think people will believe I’m being cheap, having daisies instead of roses?”

  Laurel smiled at him gently. “No, Wayne, I don’t believe anyone would think that, but even if they did, does it matter? You’ve ordered what you think Denise would have wanted. That’s what’s important.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I gave her a corsage of daisies to wear last Easter and she loved them.”

  “I remember. How’s Audra?”

  “That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I know you and Denise weren’t really close lately and I feel nervy asking this of you…”

  “Wayne, what is it?”

  “Audra gets out of the hospital this afternoon. Of course she can’t go to the visitation. I could leave her at home with one of Denise’s other friends, but…well, she’s so upset and there’s no adult she seems to take to like you. You and your dogs.”

  “You want me to come and stay with her during the visitation?”

  “Well, actually I wondered if she could stay at your house. People come by after the visitation and I don’t want her around any of that confusion, considering the circumstances of Denise’s death and Audra’s illness. You know how it is—people rehash the murder details even when you ask them not to. And she said you invited her over sometime. I know it’s a lot to ask, but…”

  Laurel reached out and touched his hand. “Wayne, I’d be
delighted to have Audra tonight.”

  “Really? I’m not spoiling plans? It means you can’t go to the funeral home.”

  “I think Denise would prefer I look after her little girl than go to the funeral home and I didn’t have other plans. What time do you want me to pick her up?”

  “I’ll bring her by about six, if that’s all right. She’s still on a couple of medications. I’ll explain the dosage. I can pick her up by ten or ten-thirty.”

  “Wayne, that’s rather late and it’s so cold. Why not let her spend the night?”

  “The whole night?”

  “Oh, you’d probably rather have her at home.”

  Wayne frowned. “No, you’re right. It would be better for her to get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. It’s very kind of you to offer.”

  “I have to warn you, Wayne. I don’t have much experience with children. I hope I don’t do anything wrong.”

  Wayne managed a smile. “Kids are tough little characters. They don’t break easily. I have complete faith in you.”

  “I’ll see you tonight, then. Tell Audra that April and Alex will be thrilled to see her.”

  Laurel had been aware of Norma coming into the display room to check an order. As Wayne wandered out the door, she looked up at Laurel, tears in her eyes. “That poor man. I just don’t understand life.” Mary entered the room. Norma glared at her. “And don’t you dare lecture me about God’s will and sins of the father! I don’t want to hear it!”

  Norma stalked into the kitchen, sniffling. Mary looked at Laurel, blank-faced. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I feel sorry for Dr. Price.”

  “She’s upset.” Laurel stared at Mary’s smooth, untroubled face. “How is your father?”

  “Much better, Laurel,” she said with too much enthusiasm. “Really, this new medicine the doctor put him on is doing wonders.”

  “Good.” Mary turned to go back to the workroom and Laurel couldn’t resist adding, “I didn’t know the Lewis sisters were your great-aunts.”

  Mary stopped in her tracks. Her body stiffened. When she turned, her face looked frozen. “How did you know that?”

  “I visited them the other night. They told me they were your mother’s aunts. I didn’t know your father spent his childhood in Wheeling and was best friends with their brother, Leonard.”

  “They were in a chatty mood.” Mary’s voice sounded sandpapery. “What else did they have to say?”

  Laurel was irritated because of the lies Mary had told her and blurted out, “I met your mother.”

  Color drained from Mary’s face. “You met my mother?”

  “Yes. I know everything—about the baby, your mother’s stay in the…hospital. She said she came back because she wanted a chance to talk to you. Have you seen her?”

  Mary’s lips parted. The color that had so abruptly faded flooded back into her cheeks. “No, I haven’t seen her and, if I did, I wouldn’t talk to her. If Papa knew she was here—”

  “She left,” Laurel said quickly. Her purpose in bringing up Genevra was to see if Mary had any idea where her mother could be. Her tone was sincere. Laurel didn’t believe she had seen Genevra. But she’d forgotten the threat posed to Genevra by Zeke. She wasn’t sure about Genevra’ s stability, but she knew Zeke was insane. Insane and violent. She might just have put Genevra in danger. “Your mother left the Lewises’ yesterday morning.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “They have no idea.”

  “Oh.” Mary looked shaken.

  “Since she’s gone, it might be best if you didn’t mention her visit to your father,” Laurel went on nervously. “After all, it could upset him and you said he’s doing so much better.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Mary said slowly. “I won’t tell him. I just hope she doesn’t come back. I don’t know how Faith could have ever written to her all those years. She’s evil, and evil should be destroyed.”

  “Destroyed?” Laurel repeated cautiously. “You believe your mother should have been destroyed?”

  “She killed an innocent!”

  Laurel was taken aback by Mary’s vehemence. “What if it was an accident, Mary? What if your baby brother died of sudden infant death syndrome?”

  “No. Papa said she killed him. I believe in an eye for an eye.”

  “You’re a Christian. What about ‘turn the other cheek’ or ‘vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord’?”

  “I know what my papa told me and he says she killed Daniel.”

  Norma came out of the kitchen, her eyes red, a few muffin crumbs clinging to her mouth. “Don’t tell me someone else got murdered!”

  “No, Norma,” Laurel said. “We were just having a philosophical discussion.”

  Norma gave Mary a hard look. “I don’t know anything about philosophy. I’ve got work to do.”

  When Norma went back to the workroom, Mary said in a pathetic voice, “She doesn’t like me anymore.”

  I don’t like you as much as I used to, either, Laurel thought, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. “I told you she’s just upset. We’re all tired. We’ll feel better after a few days off.”

  “I won’t feel different about my mother,” Mary said stubbornly. “I won’t feel different about anyone who takes the life of an innocent.”

  “Was Faith an innocent?” Laurel blurted.

  Mary gave her a long, measuring look. “Faith wasn’t perfect, but she became my mother after my real mother killed her own baby and was sent away. Faith loved me and looked after me and made me as happy as any child could be living with the burden of guilt we had to bear because of our mother. I loved her more than anything in the world. I would have done anything for her. Anything.” Her eyes grew hard. “I’m going back to work now and I don’t ever want to talk about any of this again.”

  2

  Part of Laurel felt enraged at Mary’s cheeky response. She didn’t like being told off by an employee. At the same time, she thought she had it coming. Mary’s relationship with her mother was absolutely none of Laurel’s business. Normally she would never have pried into such private territory, but she was afraid either Mary or her mother might be the murderer and she was trying to get information. Still, if Mary were innocent, she had every right to respond as she did.

  Usually Mary, Penny, and Norma chattered in the workroom. Today the room was heavily silent. There were even few customers. Most people had already picked out their floral Christmas decorations. Laurel glanced at her watch. Ten-thirty. Six and a half hours until closing time. It seemed like six and a half days.

  She was walking around the display room, taking inventory of the depleted Christmas stock, when Neil Kamrath walked in. “Your cupboards are just about bare,” he said amiably.

  “That’s good. Perfect would be having no Christmas stock left at closing time today.”

  “Are you going to join your family for Christmas?”

  “No, not this year. Even if it weren’t snowing, there’s too much going on.”

  Neil walked near and lowered his voice. “I heard what happened last night. Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really,” she said coolly. A restraining order. A police investigation of his wife’s death to make sure it really was an accident.

  Neil’s smile faded. “Laurel, what’s wrong?”

  “Another murder.”

  “I mean between us. I’m getting frost bite just standing near you.”

  Laurel looked into the smoky blue, pain-filled eyes, the closed look on his face just like the first time he’d walked in the store to order flowers for Angie’s funeral. “Okay, Neil. But let’s get out of the store. There’s a place down the street where we can get coffee.”

  She told the others she was going out for twenty minutes. Shortly afterward she and Neil sat in the same cafe where she and Crystal had drunk vanilla coffee a few days ago and discussed the photos they’d received of Angie and Faith. She and Neil both ordered cappuccino and croissants. “I’ve been living on
coffee, pastry, and hot dogs for over a week,” Laurel commented. “A green vegetable would throw my poor stomach into shock.”

  “You have to eat somewhat sensibly, Laurel. After Ellen and Robbie died, I lived on coffee and the nearest thing I could find that didn’t require cooking. A couple of months later a doctor told me if I didn’t start eating right, I’d get rickets.”

  “Rickets! I didn’t think that disease existed anymore.”

  “It does if you don’t eat right.” He went back to the counter, ordered orange juice, and set it down in front of her. “Drink every drop. You need vitamin C.”

  She smiled and drained the small glass. “I feel like a new woman.”

  “I knew it.” His gaze grew serious. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

  She drew a deep breath. “I had a talk with Kurt about you. He told me some things about your marriage.”

  She felt him retreating emotionally although his expression didn’t change. “You had him check me out?”

  “No.” She couldn’t help grinning. “It seems we were spotted in McDonald’s not once but twice and he took it upon himself to do a background check.”

  Laurel could tell Neil was trying to hang on to his haughty aloofness but he couldn’t. He laughed softly. “Sometimes I forget what life in a small town is like. Did he know what we ate at McDonald’s?”

  “Probably, but he didn’t comment on that part.”

  “He stuck to information about my marriage. What about it?”

  “Well, first that Ellen had to get a restraining order against you because you beat her twice and once pushed her down the stairs, breaking a rib and doing eye damage.”

  Neil closed his own eyes. “Laurel, I told you Ellen was an alcoholic. She was always falling and in the later years, when things weren’t going well with us, she started blaming me, especially for the tumble down the stairs. She couldn’t admit she was drunk. It was easier to claim I’d done it.”

  “But certainly the doctors in the emergency room could see she was drunk. And what about the police?”