Flowers on Her Grave

by Jennifer Chase

  “Of course. Do you think it will help?” Her voice faded a bit.

  “Anything could help. I’m going through everything in this case and looking at each report and piece of evidence.”

  “Thank you, Detective,” she said as her voice cracked. It was clear that she was still devastated about the disappearance of her son and her health was fading.

  “Would it be okay if my partner and I came out today?”

  “Yes, anytime.”

  * * *

  Katie was quiet during the drive to Mrs. Stiles’s home. She drove down the familiar streets and cut through other roads to get to the opposite end of town.

  “What’s on your mind, Detective?” said McGaven. His face was serious as if he had some thoughts that were worth mulling over too.

  “I was thinking about the rental agency.”

  “And?”

  “They seemed to be pretty efficient and quick to return Stiles’s stuff.”

  “Fair question. But remember, they weren’t going to receive any more rent without a tenant.”

  “Mrs. Stiles could have paid for a few months… It seems so final, like they already knew.” She took a turn in the road faster than she should have and the sedan bounced and bucked. “Something seems off, that’s all.”

  Bracing himself with his hand against the dash, he said, “Checking out Mrs. Stiles’s house will put some things to rest—maybe even that gut instinct of yours too.”

  Katie smiled. “You’re probably right.” She leaned forward to read addresses. “I think that’s it.” She eased the vehicle to the side of the road and parked.

  The neighborhood was one of the older ones in the Pine Valley area. Many of the homes were built in the 1940s and 1950s era. This particular area of homes had been kept up and updated through the years. The Stiles’s home was painted a dark turquoise blue with white trim. It was a boxy design with a flat roof and painted shutters giving it more of a beach cottage feel. The front yard had blooming flowers with a meandering vine travelling along a trellis and over the quaint gate entrance.

  Katie had a difficult time seeing Sam Stiles growing up here, but she guarded herself and tried to keep an open mind because nothing was ever as it first appeared to be.

  Katie and McGaven exited the vehicle, both taking in details about the neighborhood, gathering information. The ground was wet as it was evident that the sprinkler had been operating only about an hour ago. Stepping up to the front porch, Katie knocked on the door. There were small potted plants and succulents in various colored planters arranged around the small entrance. A couple of goofy yard ornaments grinned at them from the flower beds: a cat with a flag in its paw and a garden gnome with brightly painted clothes.

  The door opened. An elderly woman with white hair rolled in tight curls stood at the threshold. She was dressed in a comfortable yellow running outfit and had on white sneakers.

  “Mrs. Stiles?” asked Katie.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Hello. I’m Detective Scott and this is Deputy McGaven.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said as her voice slightly wavered. “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you,” Katie said.

  As Katie and McGaven entered the home, they found it was decorated as one might imagine how an alone older woman would embellish her home. Numerous knick-knacks, outdated plaid furniture, and crochet blankets were displayed throughout. It was cluttered, but organized and clean.

  “Mrs. Stiles, thank you for allowing us to come over on such short notice,” Katie said.

  “It’s no trouble. Please, follow me. I’m afraid that I’m not much help moving the boxes.”

  “No problem. That’s why I brought McGaven.”

  They followed the elderly woman through the house, down the hallway, down a short flight of stairs, and then into a small room. There was a door leading outside, which she unlocked, opened, and passed through. The side yard was bleak, not as lovely as the front. There was a small building that Katie assumed was once a garage or an old storage building.

  Mrs. Stiles turned to Katie and handed her a single key dangling on a chain. “Here’s the key to the side door. All of Sammy’s belongings are in moving boxes and have his name on them. Please feel free to look in anything you like.”

  Katie took the key and said, “Thank you. We’ll return this when we’re done.” She wanted to wait and see if they found anything before asking Mrs. Stiles more questions.

  “Please take anything you need for the investigation. I… I… hope it helps you,” she said and then turned away.

  Katie knew that her grief was heavy, leaving her lonely without any type of closure, not knowing what had happened to her only son. It made it even more imperative that the entire investigation found out what happened to Sam Stiles.

  McGaven followed Katie to the side of the building; she quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  There were boxes from floor to ceiling labeled: Christmas ornaments; old dishes; fancy linen and tablecloths; tools.

  “Oh wow,” said Katie. “Do you see Sam’s name?”

  McGaven with his height could see more boxes than Katie could. He moved a few things and said, “Here they are.”

  Medium-sized moving boxes with “Sammy” and his address written on the sides came into view.

  “How many are there?” she asked, eying the cobwebs above their heads, wondering if there were large spiders hiding all around them.

  “I would say about ten or twelve.”

  “Okay, let’s get started.” Katie shed her jacket and rolled up her blouse sleeves.

  McGaven grabbed two boxes and quickly cut the sealed tape with his pocket knife. “At least it looks like no one has been in them since they were packed up.”

  Katie opened the first box not sure what to expect. Inside, there were newspaper wrapped items from his bedroom—photographs, personal items, bathroom toiletries, and a box of cigars. She let out a sigh realizing that they were most likely only going to find throwaway personal items.

  “Just stuff from a junk drawer and a dresser,” said McGaven. “It’s weird going through someone’s personal items.”

  “You’ve never executed a search warrant before?”

  “Yeah, but this is different. It just feels wrong.”

  “I know what you mean, but let’s be thorough.”

  Katie and McGaven spent over half an hour going through the boxes.

  Katie looked in another box near the end of their search and discovered a group of letters and postcards. “Wait, here’s something.”

  McGaven immediately stood next to her. “Letters?”

  “Yeah, and some postcards from Hawaii and… Lake Tahoe and it looks like Canada. Some are from Mr. and Mrs. Stiles, but here are a number of them from a Natalie Cross. I think we should take these back to the office. But let’s keep searching.”

  Katie found several folded paper grocery bags in a plastic basket and took one and put the letters inside. She kept searching, not sure what she was looking for.

  “Here’s a photo of a woman,” said McGaven. “She’s pretty. Possibly Natalie Cross?”

  “Here,” she said. “Put that in the bag.”

  Katie came to a box that had some jewelry: a man’s watch, a bolo tie, Puka shell necklace, and an antique diamond ring. “Wow, this is the kind of ring you propose with. Probably a family heirloom. I should give it to Mrs. Stiles for safekeeping.” She felt sad because a proposal was never going to happen. “Wait…” she said. In a small black box there was a single key with a black rubber top.

  “What is that?”

  “A padlock key. I don’t recall seeing anything from the photographs in his apartment that would need a key like this.”

  “It could be for anything.”

  “This is one of those really heavy-duty ones, like would be used for a storage unit. It says, ‘Strong Lock’.”

  “I haven’t seen any paperwork, bank statements, registration for his c
ar, or bookkeeping items that might indicate if he paid for a storage facility,” said McGaven.

  “I haven’t either,” she said.

  Katie and McGaven finished sifting through the boxes and then restacked them neatly.

  She grabbed the bag with the letters, photograph of family members and one unknown woman, and key. “Well, it’s more than we had earlier this morning. I’ll let Mrs. Stiles know we’re leaving and what we’re taking with us.” She had the letters, photo, key, and ring.

  Katie hurried back to the house and opened the back door. “Hello? Mrs. Stiles?” She waited. “Hello?”

  “Yes,” came a feeble voice. “Please come up, Detective.”

  Katie navigated the stairs and was in the living room in a moment. Mrs. Stiles was sitting and having some tea. “Mrs. Stiles, can I ask you a few questions?”

  “Of course.”

  She showed her a photo of Natalie Cross. “Do you know this woman? Or, have you ever seen her before? Please, take your time.”

  Mrs. Stiles stared at the photograph for several moments, but she shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen her before. Pretty girl.”

  “How about these letters?”

  Thumbing slowly through the pile, she smiled. “My husband and I sent Sammy these letters and postcards when we went on our trips. Mr. Stiles loved to travel.”

  Katie smiled. “It seems that your son was a bit sentimental keeping these letters.”

  She handed back the letters, and said, “He was. Most people didn’t know that. He was a sensitive boy.”

  “What about this ring?”

  There was a glimmer in Mrs. Stiles’s eyes and it was clear that she had recognized it. “That was my mother’s wedding ring and I gave it to Sammy to keep until he found the right girl.”

  “I will leave it with you. It shouldn’t be in storage boxes.”

  “Thank you, Detective.”

  “Mrs. Stiles, we’re leaving now and I’m going to take these letters and photograph. Oh, and also this key.”

  “Of course, my dear. Whatever you need to conduct your investigation.”

  Katie felt the entire situation pull at her heart. She leaned down and touched Mrs. Stiles’s hand. “I’ll let you know the minute we know anything.”

  Eight

  Saturday 1615 hours

  Katie rushed out the front door all dressed up for her uncle’s anniversary party. She was arriving early, per her uncle’s request, and Chad was going to meet her there after he was off shift at the fire department. Leaving Cisco behind, she carefully navigated her way across her driveway in heels to her Jeep.

  She turned the key and her SUV roared to life. Backing down the long driveway, her thoughts wandered to the cold case—as usual. She played with various theories and ideas that rattled around in her mind. Did Sam Stiles meet an untimely death? Did he have an elaborate plan to leave and obtain a new identity? Who was Natalie Cross? Was his illness that day just an excuse, a ruse, or a convenience?

  Before she put her Jeep into drive, she glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure her makeup was still in place—which it was. Dresses and high heels made her a bit self-conscious, but this was a special occasion and she knew that her aunt would love to see her dressed up.

  Katie drove the back roads to her uncle’s home. She always preferred the longer route because it was picturesque and allowed her to calm her nerves and empty her mind of whatever was plaguing her. It amazed her that she hadn’t had a single episode of anxiety or any of the dark feelings that had been so prominent during the Amanda Payton case.

  Are things finally changing just because I spoke with a therapist?

  Would life begin to move forward again—in a healthy way?

  She felt strongly that she could work through her flashbacks and anxiety. It wasn’t because of her visit with the therapist; she felt it was because she had chosen to meet her trauma head on and then work through it. There was an entire life ahead of her and she had accomplished so much in a short period of time. It was time to slow down, take a breath, and enjoy the process.

  Easing back her speed around a couple of sharp corners, where pine trees butted up against the roadway, she carefully made her turn. The wind had picked up, causing the tree limbs to dance in the headlights.

  As she made another sharp turn, she approached her uncle’s large, ornate gate which was wide open. There were only a couple of cars already there parked down the side of the property. A white van was stationed close to the front door, which said “Festive Caterers.” Two women dressed in black pants and white chef’s jackets were replenishing food from their refrigerated cargo area.

  Katie found a vacant spot to park, sitting in the darkness for a moment listening to the rhythmic tapping of the engine as it cooled. Something nagged at her. She couldn’t pinpoint where this invasive feeling was coming from—but something seemed out of order. She remembered one time her uncle told her that being a cop was always going to make you suspicious and test you on how much you could trust any person or situation.

  Shaking that weird feeling, Katie grabbed her clutch purse and got out of her vehicle. She felt the cool breeze in her face and across her feet in the open-toed shoes. The driveway was slightly bumpy and she felt the pebbly surface beneath the balls of her feet.

  Even though most guests hadn’t arrived yet, she heard a few voices, chatting, and laughing, coming from inside. It struck her that so many people wanted to celebrate the happy marriage of ten years between her uncle and aunt. It made her smile. She didn’t know what her relationship with Chad would bring, but she hoped that it would stand the test of time just as it had for her Uncle Wayne and Aunt Claire.

  Katie walked to the front door where the large double doors were propped open and the smell of food wafted towards her.

  Taking a deep breath, she crossed the threshold and entered the house. She stood for a moment at the top of the five wooden stairs before descending into the large living room. The decorations were tasteful and sparse with silvery accents next to a half dozen vases of white roses, peonies, and orchids.

  “There she is,” said Aunt Claire. “I thought we were going to have to send out a patrol to bring you here.” Her infectious smile and genuine hospitality exuded her true personality. Her short coiffed blonde hair accented her perfect bone structure and dark eyes. She was beautiful and didn’t need makeup or expensive dresses to prove it.

  “Happy anniversary,” Katie said giving her a hug.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  “Aunt Claire. You look amazing,” said Katie admiring her fitted white dress.

  “You took the words right out my mouth. Katie, my dear, you really need to show off your fab figure more often. Blue suits you. Those boxy suits just don’t do you justice.” She took Katie by the hand and steered her to the refreshment table. “I’m going to leave you here to get started, but I’ll be back soon. I have to check on a few things in the kitchen before the rest of the guests arrive.”

  “Okay,” said Katie.

  “Oh,” she said turning towards her, “where’s that handsome fireman?”

  “He’ll be here later. He had to finish a shift.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to see him. You go and relax. I know your uncle wanted to chat with you before the party.” With that said, she moved to the kitchen, slightly adjusting flowers as she went.

  A well-dressed bartender stood behind a temporary table doubling as a bar. “What can I get for you?” he asked with a pleasant smile.

  “I’ll have a glass of white wine please.” She watched the young man pour her a glass and then hand it to her. “Thank you.”

  “There you are,” said her uncle as he wrestled with his tie. He looked extremely regal and handsome in his dark suit.

  “Let me help you,” she said and tied it for him. “You’d think that you’ve never done this before. Remember, you’ve already met and married the woman of your dreams.” Katie smiled.

  “Only by th
e grace of God. Why would she want an old sheriff like me?”

  “Are you serious?” she said. “You are really nervous. Don’t worry, you look handsome and the only woman for you has already said yes. This is the party ten years later.” She giggled.

  “Come with me,” he said walking through the living room and outside on the patio. It was quiet and, since there weren’t any of the guests yet, it was private.

  Katie was curious as she followed him outside, exiting through a double set of French doors. She had never seen her uncle so nervous before. He was the strong leader, the pillar of the community who would command an entire department of police officers under any emergency. His calm intelligent demeanor was what the entire town respected him for.

  The garden outside had been decorated with white lights, which accented the beautiful flowering vines and blooming rose bushes. The fragrance was as wonderful as the scenery.

  Sheriff Scott glanced around them to make sure that no one was nearby. “I have something to show you. I would have had you with me when I bought it, but I saw it and immediately thought of Claire.”

  “What is it?” Katie’s curiosity was at an all-time high.

  Her uncle pulled a black velvet box out of his suit jacket. He slowly opened it and revealed a necklace with pearls, diamonds, and green garnets.

  “Oh,” she said. “It’s gorgeous. Claire will love it.”

  “I thought of her when I saw the green garnets. We were on vacation once and she had made mention that she really loved them.”

  “Uncle Wayne, you definitely hit this one out of the park. Just relax and enjoy your party.”

  He returned the box to his pocket. “Now,” he began, “how are you? I know that we haven’t been on our monthly fieldtrip and burger run this month.”

  “I know. I think there’s going to be a seascape and landscape painting exhibit downtown next month.”

  “Nice sidestep,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned against the railing looking a bit more relaxed when the conversation turned to police work. “I know you weren’t happy about the new arrangement and the fact that you have to carbon copy other departments about your investigations. But trust me, this so-called probationary period will be over soon.”