by Ivy Thorne
Dane ended the call with the promise of investigating Ashley further and updating Marla on the situation. For the time being there was nothing left for her to do but wait.
That evening, Marla tired herself out by going for a run around her neighborhood. She was used to working entire days on her feet at the funeral home, and would, therefore, have an excess of energy if she didn’t exercise it off. A restless night void of sleep was not something she wished upon herself. The running did the trick. After jumping into the shower, Marla settled into bed and had no problem falling asleep.
The next day she decided to occupy her mind by going out to purchase groceries. It had been far too long since her last trip to the supermarket. As a result, her fridge was barren and her cupboards contained only coffee and stale crackers. Fearing she might be recognized by someone in town who’d read the blasphemous article about her, Marla tucked her hair into a cap before leaving her place and covered her eyes with a pair of sunglasses. She didn’t want a confrontation of any sort at the store.
Grocery shopping was one of the chores Marla hated the most. She had no problem motivating herself to wash dishes or sweep her floors, but when it came to the ritual of stocking up on food, she’d procrastinate as long as she possibly could. Being the self-aware individual that she was, Marla once had taken a step back to analyze why it was that she detested going to get groceries. The conclusion that she’d come up with was this: She hated the task due to a mild case of social anxiety.
Marla feared talking to people over the phone or face-to-face, but as soon as she was in an area where lots of other people were, the fear was so much worse. She’d get the sense that the public was watching her and would become too aware of everything she was doing. For example, she’d start to worry if people would criticize her for what she was wearing, or how she was handling produce. Would someone verbally judge her if she picked up an apple, noticed a bruise, and then put it back? Would they call her unsanitary for doing this?
What frustrated Marla was knowing her fears were unreasonable but not being able to stop herself from having them. If she went into the store without a list, would she wind up wandering around and wasting time? As unlikely a result as this was, given the strength of her memory, she still feared it. Although it wasn’t hard to make a list, Marla always found it difficult to motivate herself to complete the task. She considered it dull. But if she didn’t have a list, she wouldn’t go to the store with the fear of browsing the aisles aimlessly.
Finally, she was pushing herself to face the burden of buying groceries. The motivational factor was simple: Without food in her fridge, she’d either starve or go broke buying takeout, whichever came first.
Her list a crumpled ball within her purse, Marla dragged herself to the store, reusable bags and all.
The day was overcast; the skies threatened to open up at any minute and soak the heads of the pedestrians. It was, in that sense, a bad day for a funeral. Curious, Marla had searched for the day and time of Reggie’s funeral service. While she’d still been working at the funeral home, the date hadn’t been made known to her. She’d simply embalmed Reggie’s autopsied body with a high percentage of formaldehyde in case the family chose to have a delayed service. It was better to use more than risk the body decomposing. This was a rule of thumb Speckleman frequently neglected.
The text alert on her phone sounded the minute she pulled into a parking space within the lot of the local supermarket. It was Dane messaging her updates.
His texts informed her that he’d brought up the possibility of Ashley being Reggie’s killer to his superiors. The detectives had agreed it would be worth it to give her another call. Dane had managed to speak with Ashley, who’d responded to his interview request with complete cooperation. Though she’d told him she was not currently available to come into the station and had assured him she’d come in at a later time. There was no knowing whether she’d meant what she’d said. Dane couldn’t force her to come in; all he could do now was wait and see if she followed through.
Marla swore upon reading the message. She had a feeling Ashley had been lying. She’d already lied once about Marla’s relationship with Reggie. Before heading into the store, Marla sent a thank you text to Dane. At least he’d tried. Who knew? Maybe the police would be able to uncover sufficient evidence on Ashley to arrest her.
Come on, Marla! You don’t even know for sure that Ashley murdered Reggie. Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched!
There were times when Marla convinced herself of things that may not have been true. She’d once convinced herself that the reason she had trouble making and maintaining relationships was because she was a freak. But now she knew this to be false, meaning she couldn’t believe everything her brain concluded.
Marla shivered as she entered the produce section of the supermarket. Grocery shopping in the summertime was especially annoying to her because of the massive temperature fluctuation between the outside and inside of a grocery store. The interior was always cold compared to the outside. Marla struggled to determine what would be the appropriate outfit to wear to avoid either getting too hot or too cold.
I should design a jumpsuit with removable sleeves and pant legs, Marla reasoned. That way I could just zip on the extra fabric needed to keep my limbs warm.
She rubbed the goosebump-prickled skin on her arms before bagging a sprig of broccoli. It was when she turned to place the vegetable in her cart that she spotted a woman farther down the produce section wearing a formal black dress. Marla wondered if the woman was dressed this way for Reggie’s service. A glance at her watch told Marla the ceremony would be starting in a little over an hour.
I should have waited until after the funeral to go out, Marla thought.
The supermarket was within walking distance of Oswald Funeral Home. It would make sense for an attendee of Reggie’s funeral to stop in and pick up an item of food for the reception.
Marla held her breath as she neared the woman. Currently, the lady dressed in black was standing in front of the refrigerated vegetable dips and crudité trays. This was where Marla’s favorite hummus was located. Cursing the fact that she was too lazy to make hummus, Marla ensured that her hair was sufficiently hidden inside her cap before attempting to retrieve her dip. If a relative or friend of Reggie’s recognized Marla as the woman who’d been named a suspect of his murder, who knew what would happen. Would the woman call the police and inform them of her creeping about the supermarket down the block from his funeral?
The lady didn’t recognize Marla, nor did she so much as gaze at her. But Marla recognized her. The colored blonde and brown hair, the glasses, the pale skin, and overexposed gumline… it was her former roommate, Ashley Tyler.
Marla covered her mouth to suppress the sound of her gasp. What was Ashley doing at the grocery store down the road from Oswald’s looking like she was about to attend a funeral?
Quickly snatching the hummus, Marla distanced herself from Ashley. She needed to think. Would Ashley go to Reggie’s funeral just to pay her respects? She had been his tenant, but so had Marla, and countless others. Besides, Ashley never had seemed close to Reggie. This didn’t mean that she hadn’t been, but Marla saw this explanation as unlikely.
The theory she had was much darker. Marla had heard of killers going to their victims’ funeral services. Some murderers did this to get a thrill, knowing they were guilty but hiding under everyone’s noses. Others simply wanted reassurance that their victim was dead and gone.
Initially, Marla had been ashamed of the fact that she’d put off going to the store for so long. Now, she realized her procrastination had been a blessing in disguise. Ashley was within Marla’s sight. So long as Marla remained in the shadows, she could keep Ashley under observation. While casually filling her cart with pita bread and other meat-free products, Marla kept her gaze fixated on her former roommate.
For the first time in her history of picking up groceries, Marla abandoned her list. I
nstead of methodically going through every aisle of the store and placing the listed items in her cart, she stayed within Ashley’s vicinity, picking out random foods that suited her vegetarian diet. Ashley seemed to be torn between the crudité tray and the fruit platter. Both snack options were commonly made available at funeral receptions.
If it were Marla, she’d have gone with the crudité tray. Vegetables lasted longer than fruit and could be combined to make delicious meals. For a grieving family with leftover reception food, this was a blessing.
At one point, Marla ducked behind a stand of discounted baked goods to text her predicament to Dane. If Ashley was indeed headed for the service, Dane’s assistance would be required since Marla was temporarily banned from entering the funeral home. This was the perfect opportunity for police intervention.
As soon as Marla was satisfied with the items she’d picked out, she headed for a self check-out lane. Ashley seemed to have sensed the telepathic recommendation Marla had given her, as she was headed for the front of the store with the crudité tray in hand. If Marla bagged her items before Ashley bought the vegetables, she’d have time to lock her food away in her car before Ashley exited.
The clouds were spitting rain as Marla bounded out the doors of the supermarket. She’d been scanning and bagging her items so fast the supervisor at the self check-out lane had been eyeing her with concern.
Her head flitting frantically between the location of her car and the doors of the store, Marla hurriedly pushed her cart to the spot where she’d parked, loading the bags into her trunk as fast as she could.
She ducked behind her car when she saw Ashley’s form emerge from the sliding doors. Peering subtly from around the front bumper, Marla watched as Ashley walked along the perimeter of the parking lot. There was no sign of car keys in her hand, meaning she’d chosen to take public transportation to the supermarket. Marla hadn’t recalled Ashley ever owning a car, so this made sense.
Once Ashley reached the sidewalk, Marla crept out from behind her car, trailing slowly behind. It concerned her that Dane hadn’t responded to her text. There was only a short window of time for her to get his attention. If she called his cellphone, there was a chance he’d be too busy with work to answer. Contacting the station number was also a no-go. Marla knew it wasn’t that big of a deal if an officer other than Dane found out she was the caller, as she had an important tip for them. Still, would the other detectives believe her if she told them about Ashley? Marla was afraid they wouldn’t trust her.
Perhaps she was being overly cautious, but she decided to call the station through a pay phone. Marla eyed the old phone booth located outside the strip mall next to the grocery store. Since the influx of smartphones, there wasn’t much of a need for phone booths. Granted the phone still worked, Marla’s call to the station would be anonymous to all except Dane.
Her eyes still glued to Ashley’s form, Marla picked up the phone and dialed the station number.
“Hello?”
Grateful the phone had worked, Marla chose to respond to Dane by disguising her voice just in case anyone else was listening. Of course, she couldn’t disguise her voice too much. Otherwise, Dane wouldn’t recognize her.
“Hello, is this the Wallsberg police station?” Marla said, lowering her voice.
“It is,” Dane responded. “How can I be of assistance, Ma’am?”
Dane had hesitated before emphasizing the word ‘Ma’am.’ This led Marla to believe he understood what she was doing.
“I’m a relative of Reggie’s and was picking up a fruit tray for the reception after his service when I noticed a suspicious-looking woman headed to the funeral home,” she continued. “I knew Reggie quite well and can’t say I recognize this woman from his family or friends group. I know all of you detectives are in the middle of investigating his murder and thought I would do my civic duty by reporting this person.”
“Would you care to describe this individual to us?” Dane asked.
Marla provided Dane with Ashley’s physical description. She was about five foot six inches tall, medium build, blonde hair with brown streaks all through it, a narrow face, wearing glasses, and dressed in a sleeveless black dress.
“I’ll relay this information to my superiors,” Dane assured Marla before ending the call.
It wasn’t long after that he responded to the text she’d sent, telling her that he understood it was her who’d called. Dane warned her not to go into the funeral home, reminding her that she was still a suspect and wouldn’t be welcomed. He also communicated that he would keep her updated through text messages.
Marla hated that she couldn’t get involved. What if Dane showed up and required help? Still following casually behind Ashley, Marla decided she’d stay within the vicinity of the funeral home’s property without stepping foot inside the building. This way she’d be close by if Dane needed her.
Chapter 17
One week ago
Ashley groaned after gazing at her vibrating cellphone. Her ex-boyfriend, Reggie, was attempting to call her.
Since moving out of his place, Ashley had settled into her aunt's house in search of another place to rent. Her aunt had a spare bedroom made available after the death of Ashley’s cousin. The bedroom had been vacant for some time now. Initially, when Ashley had been moving out of her parents’ place, her aunt had offered her the room, but the idea of living in her dead cousin’s bedroom hadn’t appealed to her. Now, living anywhere away from Reggie was paradise in Ashley’s mind.
She looked around the room. It was a simple small space with charcoal-colored walls and a worn wooden bed frame. There was a desk, a closet, and a window to let in light. Ashley sat at the desk with her laptop open. Focusing on anything had been a chore since she’d escaped. Lately, she’d found herself lying around in bed watching movies and TV shows online. She’d had plans to become trained in pharmaceuticals but had found school too stressful. After dropping out and disappointing her entire family, she’d been working as a mere cashier at different stores. Currently, she was unemployed.
The night Ashley had called her aunt to inform her she was coming had been one Ashely never would forget. She’d been lying still next to Reggie for hours, waiting for him to fall asleep. It wasn’t until she was certain he was in a deep sleep that she went into the bathroom and made the call. Her aunt had been able to sense that something was wrong. Instead of telling her the truth about Reggie, Ashley had told her aunt that she couldn’t afford her rent anymore and that she’d needed to get out as soon as possible.
Now Reggie wouldn’t stop calling her. He was relentlessly trying to get Ashley back. She avoided answering his calls. She then went into the settings on her phone and blocked his number, never wanting to speak to that asshole again.
Forgetting him had proven difficult for her. There’d always been a part of her that loved him, but she knew that love was rooted in her self-hatred. Ashley had had relationships with boys in the past, but none of them ever had been quite like Reggie.
Having grown up in a Christian home, her parents had given her strict limitations on the kind of man she was allowed to date. The right man for her had to be of the Christian faith, well-mannered, kind, and doing well academically. They didn’t want her to end up with a deadbeat or substance abuser. At the time of living under her parents’ protection, Ashley hadn’t understood the reason for their restrictions. Now she did.
Reggie had been her secret boyfriend for the last three years. Initially, when she’d moved into his house, it was only to be a tenant in his basement. But, as time went on, she’d noticed him admiring her.
The first time had been while she’d been alone in the basement apartment. Her roommate had been at work, and Ashley had been getting ready for class. Most of the house’s basement was underground, though there was a large window at ground level that let in sunlight. Ashley hadn’t thought anybody would be able to see her through it, so she’d changed out of her pajamas in the common room. It was whi
le zipping up the fly of her jeans that she’d caught sight of Reggie kneeling outside the window, looking in.
Creeped out, Ashley had chased down Reggie to cuss him out for spying on her. The man had apologized profusely, claiming that he’d knelt by the window to pull a weed in the garden. According to him, he hadn’t intended on catching Ashley in her bra. Before insisting that it never would happen again, Reggie had complimented her on her excellent physique.