A Mother's Day Murder (Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 1)

by Dee Ernst

  “I think he was really scared of something,” I said, putting down my mug and running my hand through my damp hair. “And who did he mean by she? Lacey?”

  “I thought you all thought that he was the one to be afraid of,” Viv said.

  “I know,” I said. “But who else could he have been talking about?”

  We sat in silence. The rain had stopped, and the breeze coming into the house was warm and damp. I was feeling less chilled but needed to get out of my wet clothes.

  “I’m fine now. Honestly. I was just, well, panicked,” I said.

  “I don’t blame you. Doug doesn’t sound very stable,” Maggie said.

  I shook my head. “No he wasn’t.”

  “What are you going to do tomorrow morning at the bus stop when you see him? Pretend this never happened?” Viv asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

  But I never had to. When Tessa came off the bus, she told me that Jordan was pulled out of class before lunchtime. The jungle drums sounded quickly, and by the time I was getting ready for my date with Sam Kinali, I got a text from Maggie. She had just left the library and had heard from Carol Anderson that Doug withdrew both boys from school. He told Denise Whitmore, school secretary and Carol’s yoga buddy, that he and the boys were going to be staying with Doug’s sister, beginning immediately, and for an indefinite amount of time.

  Getting ready for a date when you haven’t had one since before the existence of the Internet is not nearly as much fun as it sounds, especially when you can’t fit into anything that looks even remotely sexy because all the sexy clothes are size ten, and you’re not quite there yet. Tessa was of no help, because she didn’t think I should be going out at all. Cait viewed the entire operation with ill-concealed amusement.

  “It’s only a drink, Mom. Or are you expecting something more?”

  I tore my eyes from my once-again disappointing image in the mirror and glared at her. “No, I am not expecting anything more. But my generation has a different definition of the word date. We don’t just accidentally bump into each other and decide to hang out or hook-up or whatever else you Millennials do. We plan ahead and try to make a nice impression.”

  I pulled off outfit number six, decided a skirt or dress was too fussy anyway, and started hauling out my dress pants. I knew I had black pants from the Gap that I’d bought last winter, but they were actually too big. I found a dark purple tunic I’d had for a couple of years with black embossing around the shoulders and a V-neck, and long flowing sleeves. A little hippy-dippy, but it fell midthigh and hid the fact that the pants were too big and were being held up by a bright green belt.

  “You could wear leggings with that,” Cait said. She was sprawled on my bed watching. I turned around and looked at myself from the back.

  “Women with hips like mine should not be wearing leggings,” I muttered. The bulk around my waist was noticeable. Just perfect.

  “If you wear them with that shirt, you’ll look fine,” Cait said.

  “I don’t own leggings,” I told her.

  She got off the bed and ran out. I stared at myself unhappily for a few seconds, then undid the pants and let them drop to the floor. I was running out of options as I stepped out of the pants and kicked them to the corner.

  Cait came in holding a jumble of black and her cowboy boots. “Here, put these on.”

  I held up the leggings. “You weigh, like, nothing. These will never fit.”

  “One size fits all,” she insisted.

  I sat down and started pulling them on. Yes the leggings were tight, but not uncomfortable. And I could feel where they were packing in all my flabby bits like sausage into a casing. I got up and looked in the mirror again.

  “Wow. This might work,” I said, surprised.

  “Try the boots,” she said. Our foot size was the only size we shared. The boots were black with deep gold embellishment, added a few inches to my height, and looked much cooler than I felt.

  Cait grinned. “My work here is done. Some gold jewelry, and you’ll knock him dead,” she said as she walked out.

  I looked at myself from the back again. Much better. I found a long gold necklace and some dangly earrings, and decided I looked just fine.

  I had told Cait about what had happened with Doug, and although she did not seemed concerned, I did not want my two daughters home alone. On the way out I gave Cait twenty dollars, told her to head to the mall with Tessa, buy something for dinner, and plan on getting home around ten. Tessa’s eyes lit up at the prospect of being out so late on a school night, almost distracting her from her disapproval of my date. I kissed them good-bye and drove slowly past the Mitchell house. There were no lights, and the left side of the garage was open and empty. Doug had not returned from wherever he’d taken his sons. Besides, I’d only be gone an hour.

  Nicola’s was on the other side of Lawrence, a nice Italian bistro with a very comfortable bar and live music on the weekends. I pulled into the parking lot, smoothed my hair, and went inside.

  He was waiting for me, which made me smile. He had snagged a booth in the back, and was nursing what looked to be a scotch. I slid into the booth and smoothed my hair again. It hadn’t rained since the morning, but it was humid, and my hair had a tendency to frizz, even after being doused with Moroccan oil.

  “Hi,” I said, somewhat breathlessly.

  “Hello,” he said. “You look lovely.” He raised his hand to signal the waitress.

  “Thanks,” I said. “My daughter is very good at dressing me.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “The ten-year-old?”

  The waitress materialized. “White wine,” I said.

  She nodded. “Sure. Something to snack on? Would you like to see a menu?”

  I would have loved to see a menu and would have probably ordered stuffed potato skins, loaded nachos and fried mac-and-cheese balls.

  Luckily, Sam intervened. “Maybe just some spiced almonds, unless you…” he looked over at me, and I shook my head.

  “That sounds great,” I said to the waitress. She vanished, and I turned my attention back to Sam. “Actually, I also have a twenty-four–year-old. She’s the one that contributed to this evening’s outfit.”

  He smiled broadly and nodded. “I see. That must be interesting, two daughters so far apart in age. Are they much alike?”

  I shook my head. “Caitlyn, she’s the oldest, takes after her father. Redheaded, slender, freckles everywhere. And she’s an absolute brain. Tessa looks like me. And she’s just your average super-smart kid, which is fine with me. One genius in the family is more than enough.”

  He drank some scotch. “How long ago were you divorced?”

  “Four years. You?”

  “Seven.” He stopped talking while the waitress set down my wine, then the almonds. “It was hard,” he continued. “I did not want my marriage to end. But I could see her point. My job made things very…difficult. Shortly after that, I retired from the force and came out here. Life is much easier for the police here in Lawrence.”

  I took an almond and nibbled one end. “Speaking of which, did you find anything out? About Lacey Mitchell?”

  “Ah,” he said. “Yes, I did.”

  Silence. I sipped some wine. “And?”

  “Really now, Ellie, do you think I should be telling you such things?”

  “The thing is,” I reasoned, “I am the one who came to you, remember? Maybe just a hint?”

  He shook his head.

  “Oh come on, just one thing, okay? Like, if Doug has ever been, you know, arrested for anything?”

  “No, he has never been arrested,” Sam said.

  I made a face. “Well, I guess since this is a date, I’ll stop pumping you for information.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Thank you. I’d hate to spend the evening trying to evade your clever and subtle questioning. I’m sure I’d find it exhausting.”

  I laughed with him. “Yeah, th
at’s me. Clever and subtle.”

  He looked good. He was wearing a light-weight V-neck sweater over a T-shirt, a look I usually didn’t think too much of, but on him…perfect.

  “So,” he said, “should we spend the next half hour bashing our ex-spouses? I don’t have much to say about mine, and I’d much rather talk of other things, but I’ll be happy to give you the opportunity.” He spoke very carefully.

  “Is that how most of your dates start off? Dragging exes through the mud?”

  He shrugged. “It happens. Frequently. It seems you women have quite a lot to say about the men in your lives.”

  I sipped my wine. “That’s interesting. I mean, that’s what my girlfriends are for. I’d rather spend my time dazzling you with my charm, wit, and boundless sex appeal.”

  He laughed again. “Excellent. I was hoping you were different. So tell me something else. Did you have a happy childhood?”

  “Very. My mom and dad stayed married until he died; my brother and I were very close—still are—and I even had a pony. No trauma, no drama, no secrets. How about you?”

  “I was the youngest of six. My parents had no money when they came to this country, just a horde of children and the address of an uncle in Albany. He let us live in his basement until my parents found jobs. Our family’s proudest moment was when we moved into our own three-bedroom row house. All of us kids worked; my father had two jobs, and my mother also worked and took care of us all. They never let go of their old ways, but made sure each of their children was one hundred percent American. The name on my original birth certificate is unpronounceable, even to me. My parents changed my name to Sam when they moved here. After Uncle Sam. We became citizens as soon as we could. I loved history, but I was encouraged to study only American history. Turkey’s past is long and illustrious, but also filled with much regret.” He shrugged. “My father was in the army when he was young. I imagine he did terrible things. That’s probably why they left.”

  I was fascinated. “Did you ever ask them about the past?”

  He shrugged. “They wouldn’t talk about it, and we never asked. My oldest brother went back to Turkey and lived there for some time, but he eventually returned to the States. If he learned anything while he was there, he never said.” He took a long drink. “We were a close and loving family, but there were boundaries. And as children, we learned to respect those boundaries.”

  I sat back. “It would drive me crazy to think that there was a family history that I didn’t know.”

  He smiled. “It drove me crazy too. It still does. But my parents are still alive, and I will not disrespect them. When they are gone…” he lifted his shoulders, then let them drop. “I am, after all, a detective.”

  “Have you ever been back to Turkey?”

  He shook his head. “One day, I will go. But only when I know that, if I choose, I can stay. I think that once I am there, I will be taken in.”

  I propped my arm on the table and put my chin in my palm. “Wow.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Did you just say wow?”

  “Yes. I mean, that’s an amazing thing to say. You must know yourself very well.”

  “Of course. After all, I’ve lived with myself for a very long time.”

  “I have too, but I’m still a work in progress. I never know what I’m going to do from one moment to the next.” I picked up another almond and examined it closely. “For instance, I never imagined myself asking a man I just met out for a drink.”

  “Oh? You don’t date much?”

  “I don’t date at all.”

  He sat back. “Really? But you’re an attractive woman. Surely, I’m not the first man in four years to notice?”

  I chewed the almond. “Um…ah, well, you see, I work from home, so workplace romance is kind of off the table. Since most of my friends are, you know, married I don’t have many opportunities to go trolling for men.”

  He took it in. “So that is why you don’t have anything bad to say about your ex-husband? You’re still in love with him?”

  I choked on a piece almond and gulped some wine to wash it down. “You really are a detective.”

  He smiled in response.

  “It’s complicated,” I said. “And you’re making it even more so.”

  “Good. More wine?”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’m driving, so I limit myself to one. Besides, I can’t stay much longer. I need to get back home.”

  “Why? Are you worried about something?”

  I shook my head but could feel my color rising. I was a terrible liar.

  “Why did you ask if Doug Mitchell had ever been arrested? Has he done something that made you think that? Other than lying, that is.”

  Man, he was good. So again, I tried the truth. “I was just curious. But maybe you should know that he pulled his kids out of school today and shipped them off somewhere.”

  He frowned. “Really? How do you know this?”

  I made a face. “Are you pumping me for information now?”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s just interesting, that’s all.”

  My wine glass was empty. “My friend, Carol, who works at the library, has a yoga buddy who’s the elementary school’s secretary. Mt. Abrams is pretty well connected.”

  “Apparently.”

  I reached for my purse. “I have to go. I’m sorry. But would you like to do this again?”

  “Of course. Next time, a whole dinner?”

  I nodded as I got up, and he stood with me. We walked out into the parking lot together, and he waited patiently as I unlocked my car. I felt my heart jump a little.

  “Well, thanks.”

  I could see his smile in the darkness. “You’re welcome,” he said, and he reached over and drew me toward him. Even with the boots on, I had to stand on my toes, and he bent down to kiss me.

  This was not just a pleasant tingle. This was like a jolt of electricity that went right through my boots, into the pavement, and made me grip the fabric of his shirt with both hands. His arms tightened around me, and his strength and heat hit me so hard that when I finally stepped away, I expected to see my clothes fall to the ground in ashes.

  “Wow, again,” I managed.

  “Indeed.”

  “So, you’ll call?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  And I believed him.

  There was so much to talk about the next morning that I thought we’d have to walk around the lake twice. Doug had not turned up at the bus stop, and since every mom in Mt. Abrams knew why but didn’t want to say anything in front of their children, after the bus left the moms stood in a tight circle, and the speculation ran wild.

  I kept my mouth shut. I had a very strong feeling that Doug had run off with his sons because he was frightened of something, and the thought that maybe I was a part of that made me feel queasy. I don’t know what he thought I’d done, but somehow, my being in his house set him off.

  “Well, you certainly can’t blame yourself for anything,” Shelly said as we trudged up the hill. Boot was walking as far away from the puddles as she could. What a princess.

  “We did break into his house,” I said. “I mean, nanny-cam.”

  “It’s interesting though,” Carol said. “He could have called the police. If it was about you being in his house, that’s what he should have done. But instead, he went after you himself. Very odd behavior.”

  “Gee, ya think?” Maggie said. “Ellie was scared to death yesterday. That’s beyond odd.”

  “Actually, Doug was scared to death. I wish I hadn’t run away from him. Maybe I could have found out what he was so upset about.” I tugged Boot’s leash.

  The rain had kick started spring. It seemed that everything was a few inches taller than it had been just a few days before. The air smelled clean, and the birds were singing, and aside from the nagging at my conscience about Doug, I felt very happy.

  And Shelly, who could read me like a book, decided she couldn’t
hold it in any longer. “And now I want to hear all about your date. Details, woman. Every last one.”

  I was smiling. I couldn’t help it. “I had a lovely time.”

  Shelly made a noise that suggested complete and utter disgust. “That is not a detail. That’s a non-detail.”

  We reached the top of the hill and rounded the corner when Maggie stopped short.

  “He’s back,” she said, staring at the Mitchell house, sitting on the other side of the lake.

  We all looked. The garage door was down. It was only down when Doug was home. Which meant sometime last night, he had returned without his sons.

  “I thought he was staying with the sister too,” Shelly muttered as we walked quickly toward the clubhouse.

  I almost veered off and went home, but that felt cowardly. Doug and I had both behaved badly, and as much as I would have liked to avoid him for the rest of my life, if he were back, avoidance would be highly improbable. Besides, it wasn’t like he was sitting on the front porch, watching us.

  “Do you think he’s watching us?” Shelly wondered aloud. “Like, from the upstairs window there?”

  “Thanks, Shel,” I said. “He probably had to get clothes and stuff for the boys.”

  We hurried along the path for a few minutes, then settled back into our usual pace.

  “Okay,” Carol said. “You were about to give us a blow by blow of your date with Detective Kinali.”

  “You first,” I said. “Didn’t you have coffee with Leon?”

  She sniffed. “He has allergies. Coffee tomorrow. Your turn.”

  I took a breath. “He’s very interesting. I like talking to him. We laughed, found a few things in common, I think, and we’re having dinner together soon. And we shared a most excellent kiss.”

  “Then why aren’t you doing a happy dance?” Shelly asked.

  “I’m a little confused,” I said “because of Marc.”

  Maggie frowned. “What about Marc?”

  “Well, he told me he still loved me and that he missed me.” I took a few steps before I realized everyone else had stopped in their tracks. I turned, and they were all staring at me. “What?”

  “Your ex-husband Marc?” Shelly asked. “That miserable piece of—“