"Thanks."
We finished dinner with key lime pie. Once the dishes were in the washer, we left the house to walk to six blocks to the funeral parlor. Martha's viewing was in the large room of the addition the owners of the Victorian house had added when they converted the residence to its current use.
About thirty people gathered in clusters. Marcus and Sophie stood with two couples from the church. I recognized several local politicians and other notables. Tammy and Heather sat in the rear of the room playing handheld games. Neither looked pleased to be here. Such is the price of social correctness. Marcus has always been aware and concerned with appearances.
Jenna and I threaded our way to the bier. Martha looked like a painted doll. That she was gone became so real I grasped the side of the coffin and silently said my farewell.
Jenna touched her grandmother's hand. “Gran, I miss you,” she whispered. “All these years wasted. I should have defied Uncle Marcus and come home. I wish life had been different. I loved you.” She turned away.
As we moved from the casket, a young woman waved. “Jenna Taylor, is it really you?” She dashed toward us and clasped Jenna's hand. “Come and tell me what you've been doing.” She dragged Jenna toward a corner of the room where several other young adults had gathered.
People turned to stare. Sophie glared. Marcus left the group he'd been with and strode toward me. Would he create a scene and order Jenna to leave? I braced for the confrontation.
"I need to talk to you,” he said.
"About?"
"Not here. Outside. I don't want everyone to hear."
Something in his voice stirred my curiosity. What was this about? I looked for Jenna, but she was involved with her old friends. “I'll come."
Our progress to the door was slowed by the number of people who stopped to offer their condolences. Maybe I could have left, but I wanted to know what he wanted to talk about.
He pushed the door open. Outside, he took my arm and steered me around the side of the building into the lot where a pair of hearses were parked. “What's this about?” I asked.
"Where are they?” He released my arm.
"What are you talking about?"
"What did you remove from the house?"
The edge in his voice puzzled me. “You were there. You helped Edward and me take the four boxes your mother had packed and labeled with Jenna's name. There were three large and one small. You opened one."
He glared. “There are valuables missing from the house. I intend to learn where they are even if I have to call the police to search your house."
"They'll find nothing belonging to you."
"What was in those boxes?"
"Ask Jenna."
"A girl who refused to admit she killed my son? All she had to do was admit she was driving."
I stepped back. “I don't know where you got that idea. How can she admit to a lie? She was not driving."
"I know what the police report said. It was a case of a young officer feeling sorry for a pretty girl so he lied."
"Absolutely not.” There was no point arguing the matter with him. But I couldn't help wondering why he remained so convinced his view of the accident was right.
He stepped toward me. “I have to learn what those boxes contained."
'Just what are you looking for?"
"Mother's diamonds. They weren't in her safe deposit box or in the safe at the house."
"I had nothing to do with their disappearance. There's no way Jenna or I could have accessed your mother's box or the safe."
He scowled. “I know that. Mother removed them six months ago and never told a soul what she did with them. Sophie was right. Mother was losing it."
"Have you searched the house? I don't see how I can help you."
"The bank manager said Jenna opened a box and put some things in it. He had no idea what."
Before I had a chance to question the banker's ethics, Jenna called my name. “Where are you?"
"Out near the rear parking lot."
"Are you all right? When I looked for you, you were gone. Someone said you left with Uncle Marcus.” She stepped into view.
Marcus approached her. “Where are my mother's diamonds?"
"I haven't the slightest idea,” Jenna said.
"Then what did you put in a safe deposit box?"
The redness of his face made my muscles tense for action. Would he explode in a rage or have a stroke?
Jenna fisted her hands on her hips. “Not that it's your business, but Gran put my mother's and my father's jewelry in one of the boxes. No diamonds unless you count an engagement ring or a pair of earrings. Oh, and my father's tux studs."
"I don't believe you."
"That doesn't surprise me. You never have.” She touched my arm. The tremors I felt weren't caused by fear but anger. “I don't lie. Would you like to meet me at the bank before the funeral and view the contents?"
His lips formed a thin line. “That won't be necessary. By the time we made the visit, I'm sure they would be gone. Just don't expect a legacy from Mother."
"I don't. I told Gran I didn't care about her money, only about her."
I turned to Jenna. “Ready to leave?"
"More than."
"Wait a minute,” Marcus said. “There are some other things Sophie couldn't find at the house."
"Such as?” Jenna asked.
"A set of old china and some silverware."
Jenna nodded. “Gran packed them in my boxes. Do you want me to return them?"
"No, but...Never mind. Were there any papers or documents?"
"Picture albums. My birth certificate, some papers of my parents, and a savings account statement from the one I started when I lived with Gran. Why don't you ask Sophie about the diamonds?” Jenna pulled me toward the sidewalk.
"Why do you think Sophie would know about them?"
"She was always drooling over Gran's jewelry and asking Gran if she could borrow them.” Jenna smiled. “She's a bit like your younger daughter. During one of my visits with Gran at Hudson House, Tammy demanded Gran's house key so she could search for money to spend at the mall.” Jenna strode away.
I almost had to run to keep up with her, but I couldn't help glancing back. Marcus stared after us. I was sure Sophie didn't have the diamonds. I believed I knew where they were, but the discovery had to wait until Mr. Broadhurst returned to town.
* * * *
The next morning, Jenna and I drove to St. Stephen's for the funeral service. Parking was almost as scarce as on Sunday mornings. Martha had been important to the community and the church.
In the vestibule, I greeted a number of acquaintances and introduced Jenna as my tenant and Martha's granddaughter. From the expressions on several faces, I knew some people remembered the events of the past. Jenna tugged on my arm. “Where do you usually sit?"
"In the middle on the preacher's side.” I proceeded her into the sanctuary and paused beside a pew. Marcus and family were already in their usual row. Martha's absence brought a surge of sorrow. When Jenna slid into the pew beside me, I turned to her. “We could sit up front."
She shook her head. “This is fine. I'm not joining them and I don't want to sit where they can glare at me."
"It's not right. You're as closely related to Martha as those girls."
"I'd rather be with you."
As we waited for the service to begin, I studied the stained glass windows. With the sun streaming through them, the colors looked like jewels. My thoughts drifted to Martha and the times, both happy and sad, we'd shared. A glance around the sanctuary showed many prominent people from the community and church were in attendance.
My gaze focused on a pair of late arrivals. I straightened. What were they doing here? The evening nurses from Hudson House sat across from my pew. My speculations about their presence were cut short when Edward emerged from the side door and took his place in the pulpit.
When the service ended, I scooted into the aisle to wa
ylay the nurses. “I'm surprised to see you here."
The nurse who had refused to listen to my concerns about Martha's condition turned. “Hudson House always sends a staff member to the funeral of a deceased resident. Today was Molly's turn and she didn't want to come alone.” She took Jenna's hand. “You're the granddaughter who's a nursing student. She often spoke of how proud she was of you. You have my sympathy for your loss."
Jenna smiled. “Thanks."
"She was a good patient. Never gave us a bit of trouble. Her death was quite a shock."
We moved toward the vestibule. The blonde nurse stood with Marcus and Sophie. The other woman joined them. Though I was curious about what was being said, Jenna tugged on my arm. “Let's go home."
"Don't you want to go to the cemetery?"
She shook her head. “I've said my goodbyes and I don't want to bring anger to Gran's grave. Next week, I'll take flowers for her and my parents. I'll let them know what's happening in my life."
Her decision didn't surprise me. What good would a scene do?
* * * *
On Sunday morning when I arrived at the church, I took the cookies for coffee hour to the kitchen, then joined the arrivals on the landing in the front of the church. As I made my way inside, I heard snippets of conversation. Most were speculations on the size of Marcus’ inheritance.
"Millions,” one woman said. “Probably in trusts but I'm sure the interest will cover Sophie's bills."
Another woman waved her hand dismissively. “Sophie's my dearest friend. We had lunch at the club yesterday and she let a few details slip. Besides the money, Marcus gets the house and all those valuable antiques."
"A trust fund for the church,” one of the Elders said. “With attendance and contributions down, the gift is welcome."
"Sophie told me they're having the house re-decorated this week and will move in as soon as it's finished,” a woman said. “She's planning a house-warming party at the end of the month and there's so much to do.” She tittered. “Gifts are welcome but not expected."
"That's not exactly true,” Sophie's dearest friend said. “She told me guests will be asked to bring wine or liquor. Since Martha refused to have alcohol in her house, the cellar and bar are empty."
"Martha had good reason to feel that way,” an older woman said. “After all, her daughter had a drinking problem."
"Will Sophie wear any of the famous diamond collection to the party?"
Someone laughed. “They're missing. That's what Sophie said."
"I'll bet that granddaughter stole them. You know, the one who Marcus said ran away after that darling Mark died. I heard she caused the accident."
Before I jumped in and labeled someone's speculations as nasty lies, I entered the vestibule and found my family. The Garners were already in their pew. I wondered what they thought of all the gossip.
When the service ended, I scooted down the hall behind the sanctuary to the kitchen. The Women's Guild was in charge of this morning's coffee hour. Today, Marie and I had volunteered to set things up. She started the coffee while I put cookies on plates.
"We're set,” she said.
"Be back in a few.” I crossed the hall to the bathroom and went into the end stall.
Moments later, the door opened and closed. Sophie's saccharine voice rose. I remained hidden to do a bit of eavesdropping. Sometimes, I wonder if my streak of curiosity has been enhanced by living with a cat. Probably not, but I can blame Robespierre for this less than admirable trait.
"That's the absolute truth,” Sophie said. “The box was empty and diamonds weren't there. I was devastated and also relieved."
"How so?” the other woman asked.
"Mother Garner added a codicil to the will. Besides the trusts for my darling daughters and the one for the church, she left the contents of her safe deposit box to Jenna Taylor. Wasn't it being empty delicious?"
The other woman laughed. “Sounds that way. What will you do about the jewelry?"
Sophie's laughter rasped like sandpaper. “Marcus will just have to buy me some in more modern settings after the will is probated and he has all that lovely cash in hand. Though Mother Garner's were stunning, I'd already decided to have most of them reset. Of course, we might find them in some odd corner of the house. She was a bit forgetful."
"That's odd,” the other woman said. “She always seemed alert to me."
Sophie giggled. “She was pushing eighty. Just after we returned from the cruise, she said she was changing her will to give that niece of Marcus’ a large share of the estate. Only...she died before that happened."
The other woman's laughter reminded me of a donkey's bray. “How fortunate for you."
"Wasn't it?"
The smug tone in Sophie's voice made me frown. Had she something to do with Martha's death? For a few minutes after the door closed, I remained in the stall. Just how had the codicil been worded? I would have to wait for Mr. Broadhurst's return to solve the mystery.
Reminding myself to be patient, I went to the door and peered into the hall. Sophie and her friend had disappeared. I hurried to the kitchen to see what help Marie needed.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 5
~
Joint Pains
-
On Monday, the Women's Guild met in the church parlor. I arrived early to start the coffee and tea and to put out the sweets. I pulled the long table away from the wall and covered it with a plastic-backed paper cloth. I'd brought two silver tiered stands for the butter cookies I'd made. As I placed the dessert plates and cups on the table, the door opened.
The plump chairwoman bustled toward me. “Katherine, just the person I wanted to see.” She frowned. “Why are you doing the refreshments again?"
"Today would have been Martha's turn.” I felt sadness rise.
"I'd forgotten."
"As refreshment chair, I couldn't."
"I need to ask you an important question."
This kind of approach always alerts my wariness. “I will not bake more than two chocolate cakes for the bazaar."
"And I won't ask for more. This isn't about the bazaar.” She opened the closet and began to remove the supplies for the ornaments we make and sell at the Christmas affair. “There's something I need to bring up at the meeting, but if you say yes, there'll be no problem."
"Say yes to what?"
Marie turned. “It's Sophie Garner. She wants to take Martha's place on the Board. Just as I was leaving the house, she called and was full of ideas and suggestions for projects we should undertake."
"Don't we have to hold a special election when we lose a Board member in the middle of her term?"
She nodded. “We do, but you know how hard finding someone willing to serve can be. Once I mention her willingness to take the spot, the other women will be so happy they'll vote her in. I know your term ended last year. Would you run again? I'm sure you would be elected."
And give Marcus Garner another reason to be angry with me. If Sophie wanted the position, he would want her to have it. Sophie's desire to be on the Board puzzled me. She was the least active of all the women in the congregation. “I've served on the Board a half dozen times."
"Katherine, please."
"Will she be coming today?"
"She can't make the meeting. She has too many things to do at Martha's house. She's performing some kind of inventory of the contents and arranging for painting and papering."
"Then don't ask for a vote."
"She said she'd call this evening to accept."
I shrugged. “So let her serve on the Board. How much damage can she do?"
"Maybe a lot. She wants to use the money from the bazaars to refurbish the chapel and beautify the church. She believes a new sound system is needed for Fellowship Hall. She also thinks instead of a spring bazaar, we should have a fashion show followed by a wine and cheese tasting party."
"It's too late to change this year's plans. Both the Spring and
Christmas affairs have been approved by the Elders. Why a fashion show etc?"
"So she can have stage center as a model. She knows of two boutiques that are willing to give us ten percent of any sales. To quote her, ‘With ticket sales and the commission, we'll make a bundle.’”
I tested the strength of the coffee and handed Marie the cup. “I'm not worried about her plans. In a month or two, she'll be bored. Few of us are socially prominent enough to command her attention for long."
Marie laughed. “You could be right.” She bit into a cookie. “How many calories?"
"Enough."
By ones and twos, the women straggled in. Most of the twenty who arrived were in their fifties or sixties. Why would thirty something Sophie want to be on the Board? None of her age group attended. Who among these older women was she hoping to cultivate to enhance her standing in the community?
By one thirty, the one o'clock meeting began. While we worked on the ornaments, the various committee heads gave their reports. A short time later, Sophie Garner had been elected to the Board. The results weren't unanimous. Marie and I had abstained.
As I poured coffee and tea, the real purpose of the gathering began. Gossip. News of children and grandchildren was followed by talk of Martha's funeral and Marcus’ good fortune. I tuned in on the various conversations.
"Why would he sue the church?” one woman asked.
"After all, she fell on those steps,” another woman said.
"Why would he do that?” a third asked. “Her death occurred weeks after the fall."
"Ten million, I heard.” A shrill voice from across the room announced the figure.
"Maybe the entire estate, including the house and the trust funds. After a number of bequests, he received about five."
"How would you know?” the shrill-voiced woman demanded.
"My husband was her attorney. There were four trust funds. One for St. Stephen's and one for each of Marcus’ daughters."
"Who received the other?"
"I wasn't told."
"What about the other granddaughter? That Jenna Taylor. I heard she was back in town.” The speaker waved at me. “Katherine, isn't she your tenant?"
Hudson House Murders [Book 4 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] Page 6