House of the Golden Butterfly

by B. Groves

  Mac went for his usual morning run to try to clear his head.

  When he first lost Jacob his runs were his only salvation and the only time no one spoke to him about his son. It was a time where he could think in peace and quiet and grieve his own way.

  He went over the case of David Westcott as he ran up to the greenway about two blocks from his house.

  The greenway was exactly five miles and forked off near the Three Forks River, where it ended about 2 blocks from his house.

  Mac stopped to catch his breath. The weather would be a balmy 75 degrees today and Mac felt the heat on his skin from the bright sunshine already.

  Temperatures in Lingate were always unpredictable this time of the year. One day it might be in the lower fifties, the next day you could sunbathe and jump into an open pool.

  Mac stared into the river for the longest time thinking that the soothing flow of water next to him would trigger a clue.

  Kevin said Claire was coached. Three-year-old David somehow opened the heavy sliding glass doors and ran off down a heavily wooded pathway and somehow ended up in the river, being swept away by the current. The only clues were small footprints in the sand and a shoe that washed up along river bank by the levee three weeks later.

  What surprised Mac the most was the housekeeper story. Rose said she had a housekeeper named Susan who quit not long before the accident happened.

  Susan…

  Sue…

  What was her last name again? Mac couldn’t remember while he was out on his run.

  Mac shook his head and headed home, shower, and change.

  After he was all cleaned up, he glanced at the clock to see it was late enough to call Claire without waking her up.

  He found he looked forward to talking to her despite his suspicions.

  He dialed her number and was surprised when she answered on the first ring.

  “How are you this morning?” He asked.

  He was surprised to find her bright and chipper as she told him she was doing good and was glad to hear from him. Maybe she was coming to terms with what happened with her brother and maybe he’d been imagining things.

  “Did you have any plans for today, I thought we’d—”

  “Unfortunately, yes, I do,” Claire said.

  Mac noted he didn’t hear an ounce of regret in her voice. Her tone seemed hurried like she was ready to rush out the door.

  “Oh,” he said. “We can go some other time.”

  “I’m sorry. I need to run out and mail some stuff back to New Jersey,” she answered. “I also need to deal with my former publisher, they’re giving me problems about the rights on my books, but I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving.”

  Mac could tell Claire wasn’t the least bit apologetic, she was in a hurry, and it was more than mailing stuff out and making phone calls.

  He knew he’d only known her for a little over a week, but the hyper sound of her voice gave it all away.

  He wasn’t angry. She had a life of her own and she also had errands to run, but he wished she would tell him the truth.

  They still barely knew each other and Mac had no claim over her. She could do whatever she wanted and not have to explain anything to him and vice versa.

  “Me too. If you change your mind about getting together, you have my phone number,” he said.

  “I will. Bye.”

  Claire hung up before Mac could open his mouth to say goodbye. He stared at his phone for several minutes before shrugging off the conversation.

  He would still head out to the coffee shop and see if there were any other clues he could find.

  He put his phone in its case, grabbed his keys and walked out the door to his car.

  Mac pulled into the parking lot of Sweet Spot Bakery and Coffee Company. The usual suspects were already inside getting their caffeine fix before heading over to the American Legion to drink a few beers before returning to sober up and go home to their pissed off wives.

  It was a never-ending cycle with this group, and Mac gave them plenty of warning about driving while impaired. These men didn’t care. Most of them were in their sixties and seventies, suffering from a variety of ailments, and thought why should they give a shit about a mere fine. If they lost their license they would make their wives drive them to these places.

  Mac got out of his car and gazed around the parking lot. He spotted Shirley’s brand new Mercedes.

  How can she afford that kind of car? He asked himself.

  Besides the old guys being boisterous at the bar, the shop was empty this morning.

  Mac found a seat and was greeted by the old guys sipping their coffees, spouting off their dislike of certain politicians and how much they hated being taxed to death.

  Nothing new about those conversations.

  They were staring at him as the waitress placed the coffee cup in front of him, but he ignored them. His eyes were searching for Shirley this morning, but she was not in the front.

  Finally, he felt an elbow beside him.

  Mac turned to find old Clarence Thompson giving him a mischievous grin.

  “Rose’s granddaughter is mighty fine, Mac. You lucky dog,” Clarence said with a phlegmy laugh and a slap on Mac’s shoulder.

  The rest of the men snickered into their coffees.

  Mac rolled his eyes and said, “It would be a cold day in hell before you guys wouldn’t notice this kind of shit, would it?”

  “Hell, Rose was always the talk of the town when she was young, and her granddaughter looks just like her,” said Martin Childers. The man had jowls the size of hot air balloons and a waist to match.

  “Everyone wanted her,” someone else said.

  Mac did not want to talk about Claire. His life with her was not for their ears.

  “Guys, whatever happened with Rose stays in the past. I think Claire deserves some privacy and so do I,” Mac scolded.

  The guys grumbled into their cups and Mac turned away waiting for Shirley to appear.

  “Damn shame though,” Clarence said waving to the waitress for a refill.

  Okay, it was obvious Clarence wanted to play a game and Mac had to participate if he wanted any more clues about Sue.

  “What is?”

  He could feel the bile of disgust building inside his belly, but the information could prove to be invaluable so he would take this one with a smile.

  Clarence rubbed his gray-haired chin. “All the tragedy. First Arthur, then her second daughter, and then the boy—”

  Mac turned to Clarence. “You said the second daughter. What did you mean by that? I thought Rose had only one daughter.”

  Clarence snorted and everyone became quiet. “Mac, you lived in this town your whole life and you didn’t know this?”

  “I don’t pay attention to silly rumors,” he answered, eyeing the other guys.

  “Rose had another daughter, but she gave her up,” Martin chimed in from the other side of Clarence.

  Martin then looked around to make sure other ears weren’t listening, although no one was there to hear it. The waitress had walked into the baking area.

  Martin leaned in uncomfortably close to Clarence who gave him a few choice words, but Martin ignored him.

  “Jack ain’t here, but the rumor was it was his kid, and Rose had to give her up to marry Arthur.”

  Mac’s narrative changed at that moment. He never knew Rose had given up another baby before she married Arthur and had Claire’s mother.

  His mind reeled. There was a mystery daughter it could possibly be the woman who owned this shop.

  “We tried to get it outta Jack, but he ain’t talkin.’” Clarence finished proudly like he was giving Mac the best news of his life.

  Mac’s thoughts were a whirlwind of questions. His wide eyes turned to the doorway leading to the baking area.

  “Did anyone ever find out her name?” Mac asked.

  The guys shook their heads and grumbled in disappointment.

  “Like we said, Ja
ck ain’t talkin’ and Rose kept her mouth shut till the day she died. We was wonderin’ if the granddaughter—excuse me, Claire—knew about her,” Martin said.

  “Where is Jack, anyway?” Martin asked looking around.

  That was a good question. While these guys talked about Jack’s personal life, he was conspicuously absent.

  Mac’s thoughts turned back to the news. It made sense that Rose had to give up the baby. Way back in Rose’s time, women—especially rich debutantes like Rose—were either disowned or ordered by their families to give up the babies for getting pregnant out of wedlock and since Rose’s side of the family were prominent members of the community, she gave the girl up to marry Arthur.

  And, it was probably all kept hush-hush by the family for years until someone discovered the truth and spilled the beans to anyone who would listen.

  A second daughter. Did Claire know about this? She only ever mentioned her mother when they talked.

  Mac didn’t know if this was dumb luck, fate, or a god smiling down on them.

  Records for adoption could be sealed forever, and he didn’t know if he wanted to try to pry it out of Jack about his long-lost daughter, but then again, Jack knew, because he talked to her all the time. If that was her.

  “Now, are y’all harassing poor Mac here?”

  Mac turned and swallowed.

  Shirley came out from the back with her hands on her hips and grinning from ear to ear.

  Susan, a little voice inside of Mac whispered. Shirley. They were the same person.

  There was no longer any doubt in Mac’s mind as Shirley leaned over the counter and talked to each one of the men sitting at the bar.

  She turned her head a certain way, and he could see an older, much heavier version of Claire standing right in front of him.

  The questions played over in Mac’s mind. How was this all connected to David’s death? Was Shirley the mysterious Susan? The housekeeper inside Kinsey House right before David went missing?

  How would he find this out? He didn’t know anymore except for his one option of bringing Shirley in for some good old-fashioned questioning. Then her lawyer would call and rag on them to let his client walk and she’d never have to speak to them again.

  Shirley came over to greet him.

  Mac had to keep a straight face while the questions stacked on top of each other in his mind.

  How long has Shirley lived in town? Didn’t she say she moved to West Virginia then came back, but moved away again? Yes, she did. She said she was born here. He remembered that.

  She bought this place after her husband died and became a prominent member of the community.

  Shirley’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look peaked today Mac. Are ya sick?”

  “I’m fine,” Mac said, taking a huge gulp of coffee. He needed to leave. He wanted to talk to Claire in person about all this.

  “Where’s Claire?” Shirley asked.

  Everyone had stopped his or her side conversations to listen. Mac needed to play it cool.

  He tried to place a stone mask over his face, but now that he knew the truth, the resemblance was uncanny. Shirley… the mysterious housekeeper. The possible first daughter of Rose Kinsey.

  How the hell would he convince Joe to have a talk with Shirley?

  And, how did he even know if Shirley was here when David drowned?

  She could be innocent and know nothing, but the looks and the change in attitude after Claire appeared back in town were hard to ignore.

  What happened to David Westcott?

  “She was busy today, but we might get together later,” Mac answered politely.

  “We’re havin’ lunch tomorrow, I’m lookin’ forward to it,” Shirley commented.

  Mac didn’t want Claire to go with her until he researched more about Shirley Dempsey. Maybe after he talked to her, she would change her mind and wait for him to find out.

  “That’s great,” Mac lied.

  He took another big gulp of coffee and said, “Great coffee as usual. Have a nice day.”

  Mac threw the money on the counter and walked off without looking back to see anyone’s reactions.

  He hopped into his car and drove to Kinsey House, hoping she’d be there although she said she had to run some errands.

  He needed to talk to her alone and tell her about his suspicions about Shirley.

  What kind of evidence did he even have? That Shirley was the eldest daughter of Rose Kinsey? That didn’t mean she murdered anyone so what difference did it make if she was or not?

  Mac pulled into the driveway, but instead of finding Claire home he found Bishop and May on the porch looking a little perplexed.

  He remembered Claire saying that May was coming to help her clean today and she must have forgotten.

  Mac knew the couple well. He would try to explain everything to them and hoped that they weren’t upset with Claire.

  Mac sent her a text before he exited the car that he was at her house and the couple was waiting for her.

  “Oh, hey, Officer,” May said, puzzled by Mac’s appearance.

  “How are you?” Bishop asked. “Hope no one called the police on us.”

  Mac shook his head as he ascended the stairs. “No, I’m friends with Claire, and I was dropping by to visit.”

  Might as well lay it out there and explain why he pulled up to Kinsey House. Mac looked around wondering if he would see that figure again, but no strange feelings surfaced… yet.

  May grinned and said, “Great, but as you can see she skipped our appointment. I used to have the keys and the code, but when Rose died, her lawyer changed all the locks and the alarms.”

  He knew the couple was upset that Claire wasn’t where she promised she would be and he couldn’t blame them. They relied on people like Claire to keep with their contracts, that’s how they made their money.

  “I’m so sorry to you both. Claire’s been going through a lot with her moving back here and all. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t intentional.”

  May shrugged. “We talked for hours last week. I know this has been hard on her, but Bishop did some work, and since you’re here Mac, you might want to look at this.”

  Confused, Mac followed the couple to the side of the house where the basement was located.

  “I don’t know what she was looking for, but she messed the area pretty bad,” Bishop said.

  Mac could only shake his head as he viewed the fresh dirt that was turned over when Claire went digging to look for her brother.

  He didn’t want to tell May and Bishop what she’d been doing, but there wasn’t a lie that he could think of that was good enough.

  “It’s gonna take me a lot of time to get that straightened out again,” Bishop commented taking off his baseball cap and scratching his head.

  “Do you know why she did this, Mac?” May asked turning to him.

  Mac stumbled over his answer. He didn’t want to give anything away and make Claire look like a nutcase. She had enough to deal with without people thinking she was like Rose.

  “I already know,” May said.

  Bishop nodded and added, “We worked for Miss Rose for a long time, and that boy did not drown in that river.”

  Mac almost breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could go into cop mode and explain why David drowned in the river.

  “Well, all evidence points otherwise,” Mac explained. “His shoe was found, the search dogs found his scent there…”

  May nodded, but the doubt still lingered in her dark eyes, although she kept quiet.

  Mac was about to say something else when a voice interrupted them.

  “Why are you guys standing out here on my property?”

  Mac turned to see Claire glaring at them.

  The strange thing was she was holding a package of strawberries in her hand. in her hand.

  30.

  C laire finally left David’s small coffin when she found herself dozing off as she sat against the wall.

  She made sure
the basement door that led to the outside and the basement door to the kitchen was firmly locked. She did not want anyone to happen upon her brother’s remains. If they did, then she’d never see the justice David deserved.

  She knew she should immediately call the police and report what she found. It was the right thing to do. Well… by law, it’s what she should do or she could be charged with a crime, but she was far from done with her mission.

  Her visions were keeping Aunt Sue inside the shadows of her mind. She needed to find her aunt before she reported finding David’s body. Her aunt might find out and flee Lingate before she could be questioned.

  Claire crashed on the sofa, pulling the blanket over her and falling into a dreamless sleep.

  She hated thinking this way, but it was a blissful sleep without the interruption from her brother’s ghost and or any other visions.

  Her memories were surfacing of the time she lived in Kinsey House as a small child, and it was too much to process right now.

  Claire couldn’t quite remember how long the abuse had been going on, but she recalled Aunt Sue hiding most of it from Rose.

  It was small things. There were verbal insults, a slap on the shoulder here, a push on the back there, all while she would call them stupid or ugly. She would tell them horrible things about their parents and how they left them to party and deserved to die. She would say her mother was a drug addict and got high in front of them. The young Claire and David didn’t understand what any of Aunt Sue’s words meant. All Claire could remember is living in day to day fear of the woman.

  Claire may never know why Aunt Sue loathed two innocent children so much that she felt the need to not only abuse them but ultimately murder her brother.

  Claire tried not to break down into a messy heap on the floor from her discovery. She had to keep her strength to confront the one person who knew exactly where Aunt Sue was. She wanted to ask him why he was covering up her brother’s murder.

  As she was getting ready, her phone rang and she smiled when she saw Mac’s name show on the screen.

  Her hyper mood softened. She hated lying to him, but she wasn’t ready to reveal what she found. She knew her reasoning wouldn’t make sense to any other person, but she needed time to find her aunt.