Sins of the Mother

by Megan Mollson

  The scene was so much worse than anything Zasha could ever have imagined. It looked like a melancholy painting. Mr. Turner was sitting by his daughter’s bedside, his head hanging low, while his daughter’s chest moved faintly. Evelyn’s bed was neat at her sides, as if she hadn’t moved all the time she’d been there.

  “Mr. Turner,” Zasha said softly, almost tiptoeing into the room. It felt wrong to break the silence somehow, but she knew that it had to be done. “It’s Zasha, I’ve come to see how you’re both doing.”

  Mr. Turner looked up, and Zasha was shocked to see that her friend’s father looked as though he had aged ten years in one night. His face was heavily lined, and his hair was messy and streaked with grey.

  “Zasha,” he said, his voice barely more than a croak. “I should’ve known you’d be around eventually. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay, Mr. Turner, I’m okay,” Zasha said, her voice becoming softer as she approached Evelyn’s prostrate body. When she reached her childhood friend, it felt as though she were looking at a stranger.

  How was it possible that the girl she had known since birth, who was always full of life, could be this pale, waxlike figure?

  “Has Jeremy been around yet?” Zasha asked, referring to Evelyn’s fiancé and Sebastian’s twin brother.

  “He’s at the police station pleading our case,” Mr. Turner said, rubbing his face tiredly. “We want them to assign some guards to her room. We’re afraid that whoever did this might be back to finish her off. She’s in such a delicate state. One more attack and…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

  “Unless her attacker’s already been here,” Ivy said, walking up the window and testing the latch.

  Zasha and Mr. Turner ignored her, and watched Evelyn intently as she seemed to struggle for breath. When her breathing corrected itself, they both let out a sigh of relief.

  “Sebastian came with his brother,” Mr. Turner continued. “I was afraid that he’d cause trouble, but he’s been an amazing support. Poor Jeremy is distraught by what happened. Can’t blame him of course. It’s a shame that it took such a tragedy to get Sebastian to start acting like a man.”

  “Yes,” Zasha said absently, moving a piece of hair away from Evelyn’s forehead. “Such a shame.”

  “Mr. Turner,” Ivy said, stepping up to them. “Did you notice anything strange happening on the farm over the last few days?”

  “No,” Mr. Turn said firmly. “nothing at all. It was business as usual. Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Turner,” Zasha interjected, shooting Ivy a warning glance. “This is my friend Ivy from the city. She’s here to help us find who did this to your family. They say she’s the best of the best up in New York.”

  “They sent a woman?” Mr. Turner said incredulously.

  “The world is changing, Mr. Turner,” Ivy said, sounding bored. “It’s not that hard to keep up if you try.”

  “My world has been obliterated, and if my daughter dies, there’ll be no point in keeping up with anything,” Mr. Turner said dully, causing Ivy to look away in shame.

  “I’m just here to help, Mr. Turner,” Ivy amended, trying to salvage the situation. “If you could give me the information I need, then maybe this would go quicker. We’re on the same side here.”

  “Are we?” Mr. Turner challenged, getting to his feet and glowering at Ivy. “Because I don’t know you from a bar of soap. Who are you to coming waltzing in asking questions?”

  “We can do this my way, or we can do this the difficult way,” Ivy said, taking a step forward and staring Mr. Turner down. “Mr. Turner, did you notice anything strange on the farm these past few days? And can you provide an alibi for your whereabouts yesterday?”

  “Ivy,” Zasha gasped, looking scandalized. “You can’t speak to him that way.”

  “Stay out of this,” Ivy said firmly, shooting Zasha an annoyed look. “You wanted to be a part of this, well this is what it looks like, darling.”

  “Are you a part of this, Zasha?” Mr. Turner asked, his expression murderous.

  Zasha bit her lip and looked down at Evelyn, silently wishing that her friend was conscious. Evelyn would know what to say, she’d make this better, like she always did. Was this what a world without Evelyn looked like?

  “Stop stalling, Mr. Turner,” Ivy said remorselessly. “Do you have an alibi or not?”

  “My family was attacked,” Mr. Turner barked. “I don’t have to answer to you or to anyone.”

  “That’s not true,” Ivy said, “I’m simply asking what the police already should have.”

  “Ivy, he loved his family, this is a good man,” Zasha pleaded. “Let him alone.”

  “I’ve known many good, loving family men who got rid of their families,” Ivy said in a steely tone. “I know better than to let appearances fool me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Mr. Turner asked. He pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at Ivy’s forehead. Zasha let out a frightened squeak and covered her mouth with her hands. Ivy took a step forward until her forehead was touching the barrel. She put her hands in her pockets to hide the fact that she was trembling. “Well, how’s this for appearances?”

  Chapter Seven

  The tension in the little hospital room was palpable. Zasha felt like she was choking as she looked between Ivy and Mr. Turner. Ivy looked unafraid, as if this sort of thing happened often. Somehow, Zasha could tell that it was all a façade. No one, no matter how experienced they might be, could be relaxed with a gun pointed at their forehead. There was a steely determination in Mr. Turner’s eyes. He had the look of someone who had nothing left to lose.

  Zasha looked down at Evelyn, wishing that she knew what to do. If only her friend hadn’t been attacked. What would they be doing now? They’d be in a bubble of their own, living their lives without the knowledge of how evil the world could really be. All at once, Zasha remembered Ivy’s words in the hall. Although she wasn’t feeling brave, perhaps she could fake it?

  “Mr. Turner, you don’t want to do this,” Zasha said quietly, holding her hands out and taking a step toward him. His eyes darted toward her and he licked his lips nervously.

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just want her to leave,” Mr. Turner said, his voice cracking. “I never hurt my family. I never even lifted a hand to them. They were my whole world.”

  “I know that, Mr. Turner,” Zasha said slowly. “The whole town knows that. No one thinks that you could ever have done this. It’s just that Ivy’s new around here. She doesn’t know how things work yet.”

  “I want her gone,” Mr. Turner insisted.

  “That’s not happening, buddy,” Ivy said, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “Ivy,” Zasha hissed. “Now’s not the time. Mr. Turner look at me. Look at me, Mr. Turner.” It was this second plea that caught his attention and forced him to glance over at her. “You know me. I’ve been friends with Evelyn ever since we were born. You’ve seen me grow up. I need you to trust me, sir. Ivy’s here to help.”

  “She’s poking her nose where it doesn’t belong,” Mr. Turner hissed, his gaze drifting back to Ivy who was still glaring at him.

  “If she didn’t, then how would she ever catch the killer?” Zasha reasoned. “I know it’s tough. It won’t ever be easy, but I know that you of all people want to catch the person responsible for this. We owe it to Mrs. Turner and Clara. We owe it to Evelyn. You know what she would say if she were awake.”

  “She’d be pleased that a big city investigator came all this way,” Mr. Turner said with a fond smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’d probably have something smart to say too. You didn’t know her, lady,” he said, aiming his words at Ivy, “but she could light up a room with a single smile.”

  “And she’ll still do that one day, but for now we need to focus on who wanted to get rid of that smile,” Ivy said, her eyes flickering to Zasha who nodded in encouragement. “Perhaps I was too brash earlier. Cou
ld we start over? We’re both on the same side here.”

  “We’re only on the same side if you agree that I’m not responsible for this atrocity,” Mr. Turner said with a pained expression on his face.

  “It was wrong of me to say so,” Ivy said stiffly, casting her eyes down to the floor. “You have to understand that…”

  “She’s from the big city, Mr. Turner,” Zasha said with a wince. “They see all sorts of things up there. The very worst sort of people get together and do terrible things to each other. You’ve read the paper.”

  Ivy frowned at Zasha. The girl made it sound as though she were from the wild west, or some sort of lawless wasteland. Sure, the city had crime, but Ivy experienced the worst sort of crimes in various places. Often, small towns were the biggest offenders. She decided not to say this out loud, since Mr. Turner still had the gun pointed at her face.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Mr. Turner grumbled. “It’s indecent, that’s what it is. Coming into a hospital and accusing a grieving man of murder.”

  “And you’ve shown her that,” Zasha said, gesturing at the gun, “but maybe we could put the gun down and talk about this like adults. I doubt Mrs. Turner would like the turn this conversation took.”

  “She always hated guns,” Mr. Turner said, looking down at his gun in horror. And just like that, Mr. Turner crumpled in on himself and sank back into the chair he had vacated. He went from a potential murder suspect about to commit a crime to a broken man who had lost everything. The gun clattered to the floor and he ignored it.

  “She did,” Zasha agreed, going over to Evelyn and taking her friend’s hand in her own.

  “None of this is right,” Mr. Turner said, sounding bewildered. “How could something like this happen? Mary was the sweetest person in the world. And the girls… well, they never did nothing to nobody. Everyone loved them. You know that, Zasha. No one in their right mind would ever do such a thing.”

  “Do you really have no idea who could’ve done something like this? Do you have any enemies? Or maybe someone was acting suspiciously lately.” Ivy sounded impatient, as though she wanted to get the interview over with as soon as possible.

  “No,” Mr. Turner said firmly. “I’m a farmer, who would want to be my enemy? I’ve got nothing I haven’t worked for. Besides, who would want to hurt Mary? She was a pillar of the community and worked hard. Do you know that she kept the farm afloat while I was away in the war? Without her, the bank would’ve taken everything.”

  “Well, there must be someone. The chances of this being a random attack are slim. And we better hope it wasn’t a random attack, otherwise we might never find the killer.”

  “Ivy,” Zasha warned, frowning at her. “Maybe that’s not something we should say right now.”

  “What?” Ivy asked impatiently. Zasha gestured to Mr. Turner and raised her eyebrows. Ivy saw his despondent expression and her eyes widened in realization. She nodded quickly and held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. How about Mary? Did she do anything strange these past few days? Did you notice anything unusual?”

  Mr. Turner hesitated and the two women looked at each other hopefully.

  “No,” Mr. Turner said resolutely. “Absolutely not. Everything was fine. She was her usual cheerful self. Bright and sunny.”

  Ivy opened her mouth to say something, but Zasha held up a hand to cut her off. She approached Mr. Turner and looked at him curiously.

  “Mr. Turner, are you sure?” Zasha asked gently. “We’re not saying that Mrs. Turner was doing anything wrong. We just want to know if anything seemed off. We’re looking for the tiniest thing, it doesn’t have to be big. All we need is a direction to start looking in. You could probably help us out more than you realize.”

  Mr. Turner closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he were thinking deeply.

  “No one knew Mrs. Turner better than you did,” Zasha said. “If something was bothering her, you probably picked up on it right away.”

  “I did,” Mr. Turner said with a sigh, his shoulders drooping.

  Ivy looked at Zasha, surprise written all over her features but Zasha was too busy concentrating on Mr. Turner to notice. If she had noticed, she might’ve felt pride at the fact that she had gotten something out of Mr. Turner that Ivy would never have gotten.

  “She hadn’t been sleeping well these past few nights,” Mr. Turner said. “At first, I thought it was because she was worried about what happened with you girls last weekend, but she was also jumpy lately. I don’t know what she had to be nervous about. As far as I know, the farm is doing very well.”

  “I see,” Zasha said, looking down and blushing. The thought that her and Evelyn’s antics from the previous weekend might have caused Mrs. Turner to be distressed during her last days on earth made Zasha feel immensely guilty.

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Turner said, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t do this anymore. Please, no more questions.”

  “We can come back,” Zasha said, giving Ivy a warning glance when it looked like she was about to argue. “Is there anything we can do for you, Mr. Turner?”

  “No, no,” Mr. Turner shook his head. “Dorothy is taking care of everything. You know she was Mary’s best friend? Those two got through the war together. I don’t know what I would do without her now.”

  “That’s kind of her,” Zasha said sincerely. She positioned the flowers she brought on the table and bent down to give Evelyn a quick kiss on the forehead. “Get better, Evie. We need you here.”

  “I need you to find the person responsible for this,” Mr. Turner said as they walked out. “I need to know.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Turner,” Ivy said confidently. “We’ll find answers.”

  Once they were outside of the hospital, Zasha took a deep breath. The world seemed a confusing place all of a sudden and she found that she had to go and sit down. Ivy was lost in her own thoughts and followed Zasha absently to the nearest bench.

  “Was it necessary to accuse him of murdering his own family?” Zasha asked in annoyance. “It’s obvious the man is grieving.”

  “Look, I didn’t get in this business to make friends. I got into this business to find justice and help people who don’t get it on their own. I followed my gut, and you can’t make me feel bad about that. Besides, we got something valuable out of him after all.”

  “Only because I stepped in!” Zasha cried out indignantly.

  “The methods don’t matter, all that matters are the results. And look how productive our morning was. We now know a lot more than when we started and finally have a direction to start looking in.”

  “We don’t know anything!” Zasha said, shaking her head at Ivy. “All we did was upset a widower. Is that what you call progress?”

  “I call it progress when I have new information that I didn’t previously possess,” Ivy said in annoyance. “Think about it, honey. What do we know now that we didn’t know before?”

  “I don’t know,” Zasha said, somewhat petulantly. “This is all giving me such a headache.”

  “In this business, you have to pick up on what a person doesn’t say. You have to find the dots by reading between the lines then connect them yourself. No one’s going to come round and connect them for you. Now, what do we know that we didn’t before?”

  “Ivy,” Zasha said with a frown. “I didn’t know the first time you asked, and I certainly don’t now.”

  “You do, you’re just determined not to see it,” Ivy said sadly. “One, we know that Mr. Turner has a gun on him. We found the killer’s gun yesterday. I don’t think Mr. Turner had two guns, especially considering his wife’s hatred of them. Second, we know that Mrs. Turner had trouble sleeping.”

  “Yes, but that’s because of something that Evelyn and I did last weekend,” Zasha said with a blush.

  “Now, unless you and that girl were out burning down houses, I doubt Mrs. Turner’s insomnia had anything to do with whatever you two bumpkins got up to l
ast weekend. No, there’s only a handful of things with the power to keep a woman like Mrs. Turner up at night. Remember what Mr. Turner said. They had nothing pressing to worry about, so we can rule that out.”

  “What was keeping her up?” Zasha asked with a frown.

  “I’d bet money that Mrs. Turner was having problems with a troubled conscience.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Impossible,” Zasha claimed immediately. “Mrs. Turner had nothing to feel guilty about, she never did anything wrong. And if you’d only met her, you’d know how wrong you were.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. She looked like a model languishing on the cover of a magazine. Her head was tilted toward the sky and she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sun.

  “My dear, when will you learn? These people that you’re so determined to protect will let you down eventually. There’s no one in this world who hasn’t done something they feel ashamed of.”

  “That’s not true,” Zasha said, shaking her head firmly. “That’s simply ridiculous. I know the people in my community, and I know that they’re good people. You’ve become jaded, and that’s why you see the worst in everyone. I choose to see the good, and the world is a much kinder place because of it.”

  “You’re naïve and you choose to close your eyes to the truth. That’s not kindness, it’s burying your head in the sand to avoid taking it on. Anyone who says different is lying to you.”

  Zasha huffed in annoyance and looked away, watching as a mother and child walked past. The mother looked curiously at Ivy and hurried her child along, taking the time to look back over her shoulder as she went. When her gaze met Zasha’s, she looked away quickly.

  “Isn’t there some middle ground?” Zasha asked slowly. “Sure, maybe not everything is sunshine and roses, but can’t we agree that there are some good people out there? Mary Turner was a good person. She tried her whole life to do the right thing and always thought about others first.”