The Family Tree Murders

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The Family Tree Murders Page 1

by Laura Hern




  A Lainey Maynard Mystery

  The Family Tree Murders

  Laura Hern

  COPYRIGHT 2019 by Laura Hern

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher and/or the copyright owner nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design/Interior Design: Linda Boulanger

  www.TellTaleBookCovers.weebly.com

  ISBN: 978-1-61752-208-6

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  Sign up for the latest news on previews, specials, and preorder information for the Lainey Maynard Mystery Series on her website:

  www.laurahern.com

  Acknowledgments

  Writing stories, creating characters, and completing a novel or series involves many people. I humbly want to thank all who helped or listened to my questions, rants and insecurities during this process!

  First, to my family for their enduring patience while I spent hours and days peering at my computer screen. You have my utmost thanks and love. Contrary to your general consensus, I did stop long enough to eat and shower. A special thanks to my son, Aaron, and Officer Dustin Vanderhagen, a BCA special agent, for their expertise and collaboration in law enforcement situations. I will not soon forget our chats concerning morgues, retorts, and autopsies.

  Thank you to my editor, Grace Augustine, and my publisher/book cover designer, Linda Boulanger. Your talents, patience, and kindness gave me inspiration and determination. I look forward to many more projects with you both!

  Thank you to all those who volunteered to read and review this book prior to its release. Your input was invaluable.

  Thank you to the successful authors and writers who so kindly provided helpful insights to their past experiences.

  Lastly, thank you to Alvina, Dawn, Debbie, and Marie. Our dinners, game nights, and adventures over the years have meant so much to me. You stood by me with hugs, encouragement, friendship and gave me reasons to laugh when I thought I couldn’t. You are my extended family and I love you all.

  To readers, I hope you enjoy this first book in the Lainey Maynard Mystery series and will follow her coming adventures! To get pre-order specials, release date previews and more, go to LauraHern.com and use your email to signup.

  Blessings to you always!

  Laura Hern

  Introduction

  Lainey Maynard, a widow for several years, devotes her time to her job as a fraud investigator and her cat, Powie, to fill the lonely void. Little did she know that a transfer from Houston to a small town in Minnesota would put her smack-dab in the middle of trouble…DNA trouble.

  She thought DNA testing websites, promising the chance to find relatives, were a huge waste of time. She was sure the fad would vanish as quickly as twerking and the ice bucket challenge.

  She didn’t realize that a string of DNA, a handsome businessman, and family inheritances would bring deadly consequences her way.

  Lainey will have to use her keen mind, her skills as a seasoned investigator, and an unlikely team of cohorts as she risks her own life to uncover the truth.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Preview: Curtain Call At Brooksey’s Playhouse

  You Can Make A Difference!

  About the Author

  Also by Laura Hern

  Chapter 1

  “Brrrr… this dismal snow and sleet have to end soon, right?” Lainey thought aloud as she peered through her smudged windshield, then muttered, “Why can’t wiper blades last forever?” She turned her radio from the depressing weather forecast back to the audiobook CD she had been listening to.

  Lainey Maynard worked as a fraud investigator for a large insurance company and had clients in a seven-state area. She worked from home in a small bedroom she’d turned into her office. With the constantly new and improved advanced computer technology, she could do much of the research needed for a case from her ergonomic home office chair. However, she traveled by car most of the time to gather information.

  After years on the road and hearing the same songs over and over, she decided to bite the bullet and buy audiobooks. Even as a child she loved the old-fashioned murder mysteries. She rarely had time these days to watch the British television mystery series she always enjoyed. At least if she had to drive for hours, listening to audiobooks helped pass the time.

  Moving to Minnesota from Texas some dozen years ago, Lainey still dreaded the very long winters. Her favorite word to describe those dreary winter days was ‘Yucky!’

  Pulling into one of her favorite coffee shop bookstores to get a non-fat mocha Frappuccino, a spinach pretzel with marinara sauce, and the books she had ordered, Lainey hurried through the checkout. She paid the cashier, bundled up her bags and headed for the store exit. The Whoopee group was meeting for dinner tonight and she still had a two-hour drive ahead of her.

  Her hands were so full she had backed into the outside door to open it and bumped into a person who was trying to get in the door just as quickly.

  “Oh! I am so sorry!” Lainey exclaimed as she bent down to pick up her books that were now drenched in her spilled Frappuccino. She looked up to see a middle-aged man also covered in her coffee and looking not a bit pleased.

  The man bristled, not offering to help her, and in a deep baritone voice grunted. “Look, sweetheart, we’re all in a hurry. Why don’t you be more careful, honey?” He cleared his throat as he stepped on what was going to be her spinach pretzel.

  “Sweetheart?” Lainey stood up as flames of fire were beginning to burn in her dark brown eyes. Lainey, 5’ 4” tall and of slight build, was glaring upward at the very tall man in front of her. “Honey?” she repeated. She took a brief moment and purposely looked him over from head to toe. The man’s appearance was that of a well-dressed, successful businessman. His salt and pepper hair was styled and looked as if it never had a strand out of place. The beige overcoat he wore with the collar turned up and a plaid scarf neatly stuffed inside, reminded Lainey of an 80’s cartoon detective she had watched on television.

  “You appear to be a nice, fairly handsome man that may have women with panting hearts waiting to comfort your every whim, but I don’t know you from Adam,” Lainey stated as politely as possible. “To you, my name is not sweetheart or honey and I apologize for bumping into you.”

  She picked up her things while he stood there looking at her with a bored, unamused look on his face. Her pretzel was still firmly squished under his foot. “Excuse me,” she said as she stood up. “I have to be going. Here’s the marinara sauce for your pretzel. Have a great day…Honey!” She stated as she tossed the sauce packet at him and walked over to her car, smiling to herself.

  Lainey was on the freeway slowly making her way back to Mirror Falls when her Bluetooth signaled an incoming call. The caller ID indicated it was Francy.

  “Hey, Lainey! Are you going to make it to dinner tonight?” Francy happily asked. Francine Baines, otherwise known to her friends as Francy, was one of the four ladies that had started meeting tog
ether twice a month several years ago.

  “Hello, Francy! Yep! I’m doing my best to get there by 5:30. We are meeting for cards afterward, right? Do you want me to bring treats?” Lainey asked.

  “Nope,” Francy replied. “Mom has treats ready when we play cards at her house after supper. Remember it’s the Chinese place tonight. See you soon!”

  Lainey hit the end call button and focused on the boring drive ahead of her.

  She enjoyed being a part of this group. At first, the four ladies met because they had something in common. They were widows. Except for Francy. Her mom, Vera, was a widow and Francy came to support her.

  Over the years, the group had become much more than friends. They were family to each other!

  There was Vera Abernathy, who had taken over the role of Mom for the group. Her husband had been a loved and respected local doctor and she had worked with him for years. Being the oldest of the four ladies, Vera had more energy and get-up-and-go than a person half her age!

  Francine Baines was Vera’s only daughter. Francy had worked as a police dispatcher for more than 30 years and was happily enjoying semi-retirement with her husband, Roger. In the warmer months, Tuesday evenings were reserved for rides with the Harley Motorcycle club. In the winter, Tuesday nights meant you could find Roger playing Bingo at the local VFW. Sometimes, Francy tagged along and took great joy on those rare occasions when she was the big game winner. Francy collected anything: greeting cards, statues, figurines, pictures, and jewelry. If it had a buffalo on it, she loved it.

  And then there was the bubbly Della Kristiansen. In fact, it was Della that inadvertently created the name of the group. At heart, she was a genealogist and loved history, but reality was a different story. She had worked as the production manager for a soybean manufacturer for years. She retired and moved to Mirror Falls to marry the local mortician.

  Growing up with five much older brothers and being the only girl in her family, she could be one tough cookie when needed. Della would pop in at the dinner meeting greeting everyone with a ‘Whoop, whoop, whoop!’ And so, the name Whoopee group stuck. Restaurants got to know and greet them as such. One local eatery always had a table waiting for them.

  Playing cards was an absolute must after every Whoopee dinner meeting. While they visited about current life happenings, they played cards or dice games.

  Arguably the most important part of the evening...treats! Nuts or cookies or bars and always something chocolate. Many times new recipes were tested on the group. And, of course, there was coffee. Lots and lots of coffee!

  The talk this evening had turned to the recent fad about requesting a DNA family history.

  “My gosh,” Francy began, “All I see on TV are ads for DNA kits. Order this and find your heritage, or find relatives you don’t know about, or get your health predictions!” She chuckled and added, “Who needs more relatives or health issues to worry about?”

  Vera nodded. “We have a long history and by golly no one is going to get my DNA!” she declared.

  The group laughed.

  “I have some reservations about sending off anything unique about me. After all, is the world really ready for another Lainey Maynard?”

  “I don’t know,” Della giggled. “I think it might be fun to have a twin. I want to know if they can reprogram my genes. You know, the ones that force me to eat more chocolate and pistachios!”

  “Didn’t you have a friend whose aunt or uncle did this DNA kit testing? Weren’t they startled or mad or surprised by the results?” Vera asked, patting Francy on the shoulder.

  “Come to think of it, one of my high school friends was saying something about that.” Francy frowned, took her phone, clicked on her social media link, and began talking.

  “In fact, I think several of her cousins or in-laws did the testing, too. If I remember correctly, the family was shocked that the test showed some of the siblings were not actually from the same parents.”

  “Oops! Bet that was a surprise!” Della smiled. “Nothing like learning about the skeletons in your closet! It depends on how accurate a person thinks those tests are, I guess.”

  “I think the health testing showed a high likelihood that family members would develop cancer. No, wait, it was a likelihood they would die from heart disease or heart attack.” Francy commented and turned off her phone.

  “I’m out!” Vera raised her hands. “Count up your points girls! Have time for one more hand? We have to finish these cookies and candy tonight.”

  While Vera shuffled the cards, Lainey put the last ginger cookie on her napkin. “Several of the adoption sites encourage adoptees to do these DNA searches. I’ve had emails and ads sent to me for years.”

  “Ever thought of doing that, Lainey?” Della asked.

  “Nope. I was adopted at five days old and my parents were the greatest gift God could have given me. They were there when I was sick, had a bad dream, at my proudest and saddest moments. I have no desire to locate people who did the best possible for me at the time by giving me up for adoption,” Lainey stated.

  “I’m not saying DNA testing is good or bad. It’s just not for me,” Lainey finished as she picked up her cards.

  Vera, carefully adjusted the four cards in her hand and surveyed those on the table. “Well, you never know. If you don’t know your bloodline and want to find out, I guess it would be the thing to do.”

  “Maybe,” mused Lainey. “Someone else can do this research. I’m swamped at work with my cases.”

  Della suddenly shouted “Dang it, Francy! You can’t go out in the first round! I haven’t drawn yet!”

  The ladies laughed, finished off the dark chocolate covered raisins, and went home.

  Lainey woke up the next morning with Powie, her cat, purring loudly while he positioned his backside directly in front of her nose. That was the sign that he was hungry, and it occurred at 4 a.m. every morning.

  “Okay, let’s get you some food,” Lainey mumbled. She sat up, put on her snuggly socks, and looked around for her cell phone and glasses.

  “Thank goodness I’m a light sleeper, Powie. But can’t we change your clock to maybe 4:30 for once?” Lainey smiled as she picked up the purring black fur ball, scratched his back, and put him down at his food dish.

  She turned on the TV and the coffee maker and then looked at her cell phone. “Why am I still getting all these spam emails?” She muttered out loud. “I spend more time blocking emails than writing emails!”

  Lainey saw that among her regular email was one that was marked ‘urgent – Francy’s friend.’

  The email was from a Mary Chase, a friend of Francy’s that needed to meet today at 1 p.m. at Babe’s House of Caffeine about some family issue. The email stated it was very important to meet as soon as possible.

  Lainey replied to the email and wrote her name in the 1 pm slot on her calendar. She wondered if it was about fraud or hiring her company. Either way, she looked forward to sipping a Babe’s strong mocha Frappuccino — no whip of course!

  Lainey arrived about fifteen minutes early for her meeting with Mary Chase. She was known for being early. It made her feel better prepared to be early.

  Babe’s House of Caffeine was a 1930’s home that had been renovated years ago into a 70’s type coffee house—complete with black lights across the ordering bar, a strobe light hanging from the ceiling beam that hadn’t worked in years, and a slightly musty odor of dirty socks. The old hardwood floors creaked when you walked across them.

  The place reminded Lainey of a little garage hangout she and her school friends frequented years ago. She grew up in a tiny town and one of her friend’s dad had let them paint the inside walls of their storage garage with psychedelic pink, green, and yellow.

  Lainey and her friends would bring a sack lunch and a coke. They usually had to move the lawnmower into the yard before putting up lawn chairs when they met. Her mom called it a hippie shack. Lainey chuckled at the memory.

  She sat down at a ta
ble toward the back of the room, facing the front door. Having someone walk up behind her or sitting behind her was something that unnerved her. Besides, not knowing what Mary Chase looked like, sitting where she could checkout who came in would be an advantage for her.

  Her phone alarm vibrated letting her know it was 1 pm. Lainey was waiting to order coffee in case Mary wanted something. She was turning off her phone when she noticed a woman walk through the door, her expression confused and worried.

  The woman hurriedly pulled off her coat and scarf, looking from table to table. Lainey waived and stood up to greet her.

  “I’m Lainey Maynard. Can I help you find someone?” Lainey had learned not to mention other people by name until she was certain it was the correct person.

  “Yes, I’m Mary Chase,” the tall and a bit rumpled redhead replied as she shook Lainey’s hand. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “Not a problem. Have a seat. Can I order you a coffee or something?” Lainey said.

  Lainey ordered two coffees and waters and waited for Mary to get settled in her chair before starting a conversation.

  She noticed Mary’s coat was a black down-filled waist jacket with a blazing red plaid scarf. Mary straightened her blue reindeer-covered sweater before sitting down. Lainey’s first impression of Mary was that she was a nice, down to earth person.

  “I see you are friends with Francy,” Lainey began, hoping it would allow Mary to open up.

  “Yes, we went to the same high school. I think you are an investigator or something, right? I need help and hope you can help me. I can’t afford an attorney.” Mary finished as she nervously rolled the edge of the small napkin the coffee had been served on.

 

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