Sins of the Mother

by Megan Mollson

  “That’s admirable, but you’d be wrong if you thought that she was only good. There are different sides to each person. You don’t know what she did in her darkest hours or when she thought no one was looking. If she did something bad, it doesn’t mean she was a bad person. It just means that she was imperfect.”

  “I guess,” Zasha said heavily. She didn’t agree with Ivy, but she was tired of arguing with her. Ivy had an answer for everything, and it always sounded smarter than whatever Zasha said.

  “If I have any hope of solving this case, I need to know more about Mary Turner,” Ivy said slowly, turning to Zasha and resting her arm on the backrest. “You knew her pretty well, didn’t you? Why don’t you tell me about her?”

  “I don’t know much,” Zasha admitted, scratching her forehead. “There are a lot of rumors, but you’d have to ask my mama about those. I only ever knew her as Evelyn’s mother. She baked us cookies and got tough when we misbehaved. Although…”

  “Although?” Ivy prompted when Zasha trailed off.

  “She was the strongest woman I ever knew,” Zasha said in a rush. The thought had just occurred to her, but Zasha knew that it was true. A part of her had always known it.

  “Why is that?” Ivy asked.

  “Well, it’s like this. When the war started, a lot of the farmers were allowed to stay at home because they provided essential services. But Mr. Turner decided it was his duty to go and fight. He left Mrs. Turner to take care of the farm and the little girls. The problem is that about a year into the war, there was a terrible drought. A lot of farms went under, and it looked like the Turner farm would be next.”

  “Of course,” Ivy said, nodding slowly. “It would’ve been near impossible for Mrs. Turner to keep it going on her own. Especially if she had two little girls to look after.”

  “That’s the thing,” Zasha said, her eyes sparkling in admiration. “She turned it around. When Mr. Turner came back, he found the farm thriving. Mrs. Turner gave it back to him in better shape than he had left it. Somehow, she had pulled through and saved the entire family. Mr. Turner always called her a queen among wives because of it.”

  “High praise,” Ivy said appreciatively. “She must’ve worked incredibly hard to pull something like that off.”

  “No one knows how she did it,” Zasha said breathlessly, “but she never liked taking credit for it. She always said that she simply did her duty and that everyone should stop making a fuss about it.”

  “Modest too,” Ivy murmured. “This woman sounds like a saint. Tell me, Zasha, what else has been happening in town? Mr. Hyde’s message made it sound like the town was sinking into anarchy. There’s no way he’ll tell me about it now.”

  “Oh,” Zasha said in surprise. She blinked quickly and looked down at her feet.

  Zasha had spent her entire life in New Hope. Her world began and ended with the town’s borders. She knew every street and every dirt road. However, the town had recently become a strange place. The places she had usually felt comfortable visiting now filled her with a sense of unease. If she had to pick a moment when it had all changed, she would have to say it all started with the incident at the library.

  “I suppose it all started when the library was vandalized,” Zasha said. “Someone threw a rock through the window and pushed the bookshelves over. When the librarian got there the next morning, she screamed so loud that it seemed the whole town heard her.”

  “Did they ever catch who did it?” Ivy asked in concern. “I mean, that’s a pretty serious offense.”

  “Everyone was really upset about it, and there was some talk about setting up a neighborhood watch, but no one ever did anything about it. At first, everyone blamed Sebastian.”

  “The man we met at the Turner farm?” Ivy asked incredulously. “he seemed like a good person.”

  “Now who’s naïve?” Zasha scoffed. “Sebastian Black is the worst kind of lay about. He’s a troublemaker, make no mistake about it. He lives for that sort of thing and called it a sign that the working class was starting to fight back. Whatever that means.”

  “Oh,” Ivy chuckled. “He’s one of those. He’d be a real menace in the city if he got in with like-minded individuals, but he’s stuck in that small town, he’ll be no more than an annoyance until he grows out of it.”

  “If you say so,” Zasha said incredulously.

  “You said at first everyone blamed Sebastian, what happened next?” Ivy asked.

  “Well, then Daniel Stuart came to town.”

  The mere mention of Daniel’s name was enough to make Zasha feel uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat and looked around as though she might’ve accidentally summoned him.

  “How intriguing,” Ivy’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward. “Why was everyone so upset about Daniel’s arrival?”

  “Well, you see, Daniel was much worse than Sebastian ever was. He was Mrs. Bleeker’s nephew. She adopted him when he was a child. According to everyone in town, he was a troubled kid. He left town after high school, but no one ever talks about what he did. All I know is that it was bad enough that no one was happy to see him, even twenty years later.”

  “Mrs. Bleeker…” Ivy said to herself. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

  “That’s the widow who was poisoned,” Zasha said, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t Mr. Hyde tell you about her?”

  “He didn’t send a long message, he just told me to get down here. He said that someone had died under mysterious circumstances and he was concerned that the wrong person had confessed.”

  “That’s the worst thing that happened,” Zasha said sadly. “Well, up until the Turners were attacked. You see, Mrs. Bleeker was an old widow. Everyone in town loved her. She was such a sweet old lady. When she died, we all thought it was because of her heart. But her maid insisted that the officials should do an autopsy. I think Mr. Hyde did it to humor her, but when the results came back, they found out that she had been poisoned. The next day, the maid confessed.”

  “Why would the maid insist on an autopsy if she was going to get away with it?” Ivy asked with a frown.

  “That’s why no one believes that she’s the real killer,” Zasha said. “And I think that’s why Mr. Hyde hired you. We all think that Daniel must’ve killed Mrs. Bleeker for the inheritance money. I think that he forced the maid, Lily, to confess to the murder.”

  “What could he have done to force her into throwing her life away?” Ivy asked in disbelief. “That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?”

  “I know,” Zasha said, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “That’s also what my papa said.”

  “You had a gut feeling and you went with it, don’t be embarrassed,” Ivy said slowly. “Where’s Daniel now?”

  “He’s been keeping a low profile since the murder, but I think he’s still in town. Do you think we should go talk to him?”

  “Yes, without a doubt,” Ivy said in determination. “I’d like to meet this mysterious nephew. He does have a motive for the one murder, but not for the second.”

  “How do we know that Mrs. Bleeker’s murder had anything to do with the Turner murders?” Zasha asked curiously. “They could’ve been committed by two different people.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Ivy said with a frown. “Did Mrs. Turner or Clara have any connection to Mrs. Bleeker?”

  “Not that I know of,” Zasha said with a shrug. “She never paid them any special attention, and they weren’t related or anything. I know that Mrs. Turner supplied Mrs. Bleeker with produce, but that’s about it.”

  “Don’t dismiss small connections,” Ivy warned. “They might not seem important on the surface, but they can often make or break a case.”

  “If that’s true, then we would have to interrogate everyone who bought produce from the Turners. You’d be here for months.”

  “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Ivy said with a grimace, looking around at her surroundings.

  “What’s our next move?�
�� Zasha asked, ignoring Ivy’s expression.

  “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?” Ivy asked in amusement. “What do you think we should do?”

  “Uhm,” Zasha hesitated. “Should we go talk to Daniel?”

  “And say what?” Ivy asked, tilting her head. “We heard you might’ve killed your aunt for her money? We have nothing on him. Never let your main suspect know he’s a suspect until you’ve got proof. If you spook him, he’ll run away.”

  “What do you think we should do?” Zasha asked in annoyance. Why did Ivy insist on asking questions when it was clear that Zasha didn’t know the answer? It was beginning to seem to Zasha that Ivy was doing it to make herself sound smarter.

  “Think about it, little bumpkin,” Ivy said. “Where did all of this begin? Who was the first victim? And why was she attacked?”

  “We can’t very well go and talk to Mrs. Bleeker, now can we?” Zasha asked, looking at Ivy in disbelief.

  “No, we can’t,” Ivy said in amusement. “But I wasn’t talking about her. She wasn’t the first victim. There’s a pattern in all the chaos, and it’s clear that the murderer escalated from petty vandalism to murder.”

  “Oh,” Zasha said, the truth dawning on her. “You’re talking about the librarian. Her name is Vera. She’s a lovely woman.”

  “And yet, she’s right at the start of all this trouble. Everything began with her, and we have to find out why. We have to find the pattern.”

  “Well, that should be easy. Vera won’t mind talking to us. She’s eager to find out who’s responsible for what happened to the library.”

  “We’ll see how eager she is when we start asking uncomfortable questions. It seems the residents of New Hope might have more secrets than they’re willing to admit.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Would it be possible to talk to Lily?” Ivy asked as they walked toward the library.

  It was a testament to the people of New Hope that even though their library had been vandalized just a week or two before, there was no sign that anything had ever happened. The library was a small, squat building at the edge of town that had evidently once been a little church. It was neat and well cared for, but obviously old. The only sign that someone had broken in was the notice on the door asking anyone to come forward with information about the vandalism. By now, the paper was crinkled at the edges and looked like it was about to fall off the door at any second.

  “Technically we’re allowed to,” Zasha said quietly, “but she doesn’t want to see anyone. A lot of people have tried to go in and talk some sense into her, but she refuses to answer any questions. Whatever happened to her must’ve been terrible. The people who think she’s guilty think it’s suspicious that she won’t talk to anyone.”

  “The poor girl,” Ivy said, shaking her head sadly. “On the other hand, maybe she snapped. It’s not unheard of that people get tired of the way they’re treated and get rid of their employers.”

  “Oh heavens no,” Zasha said, sounding scandalized. “Lily would never do something like that. For one thing, she adored Mrs. Bleeker. There wasn’t anyone kinder under the sun. Even though Lily was just the maid, Mrs. Bleeker treated her like a member of the family. Lily was an orphan, her parents died of the Spanish Influenza when she was quite young. Mrs. Bleeker took her in and gave her a good job. I don’t think Lily ever thought about hurting Mrs. Bleeker.”

  “You never know what goes on behind closed doors,” Ivy said, raising her eyebrows. “The worst kinds of people are often hypocrites. They’ll do one thing in public and another in private.”

  “Yes, thank you, I know what it means to be a hypocrite,” Zasha said, struggling to keep her tone light.

  “You think I’m being condescending when all I’m trying to do is teach you something,” Ivy said, looking at Zasha with a curious expression. “Is there any reason why?”

  “For one thing, you sound condescending,” Zasha said, blushing as the words came out too quickly for her to stop them.

  “I’ll have to work on that,” Ivy said with shrug.

  Zasha stopped short and looked at Ivy with a thoughtful expression. This time, Ivy was aware of the movement and immediately looked at Zasha questioningly.

  “You’re a strange person,” Zasha said slowly. “But I don’t think you’re a bad one. I guess I’m going to have to get used to you.”

  “The same goes for you,” Ivy said with a laugh. “Now, come on, let’s go find ourselves a librarian.”

  Feeling lighter, and a little more optimistic, Zasha walked into the library and took in a deep breath. The library was her favorite place in town. It was her opinion that there wasn’t a finer library in the world. The little stone building was always cool, which was a welcome relief in the summer. The walls were filled with neatly stacked shelves and books that emitted the most wondrous smell Zasha had ever known. She’d spent many hours in the library, looking for books, or curled up in a corner with one. During those hours, she’d gotten to know the librarian, Vera, quite well.

  Vera was a strange sort of person who seemed as though she shouldn’t have fit in New Hope as well as she did. She was a confirmed bachelorette at thirty-five, even though she was quite pretty and could easily have a husband if she wanted one. That’s what made her an oddity in New Hope. Vera didn’t want a husband or a family. She enjoyed solitude and sought it out at every opportunity.

  This meant that she was treated with a wary sort of respect in town. People knew she wanted to be alone, and so they didn’t bother her. Every now and then someone would try to convince her that her way of life was unnatural, but they soon came to realize that Vera was smarter than she looked and had a short temper.

  “Vera!” Zasha called, looking around for the woman. “Are you here?”

  “This is her job. It’s the middle of the day. Where else would she be?” Ivy asked, stopping in front of the community notice board.

  “Brilliant deduction,” Zasha said, rolling her eyes. “But if you’re so smart, where is she?”

  “Probably on a break, or working in a different part of the library,” Ivy said absently. “Why does Dorothy’s café need a new waitress? What happened to the old one?”

  “She confessed to murder,” Zasha said drily. “Lily worked for Dorothy sometimes when the café got busy. Poor Dorothy, she didn’t deserve the shock.”

  “Isn’t she the one who’s planning Mrs. Turner and Clara’s funeral?” Ivy asked idly.

  “The very same,” Zasha agreed, leaning on the check-out desk. “They were very close. You’ll meet her soon; you can’t leave town without trying her scones. I think you’ll like her. She’s a lot like you.”

  “I doubt that,” Ivy said, walking away from the board and looking around. “No one like me would want to stay in New Hope permanently.”

  “I don’t understand what your problem is with small towns,” Zasha said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is it really so awful being here?”

  “Honey, three murders in less than a month aren’t exactly a great advertisement,” Ivy pointed out.

  “Fair enough,” Zasha said, feeling foolish. “But you can’t hold that against the town. This was a great place before all these bad things started happening.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Ivy said, wagging her finger at Zasha. “Murders don’t just happen. They’re a result of a long process. For a murder to happen, it needs to be cultivated in the right environment. It needs built-up resentment, a lack of proper support, and most importantly, a lot of secrets. New Hope has a very pretty façade, but under the surface, there’s a simmering hotbed of hatred. Your bunch likes to canonize the city, but there’s a lot wrong here too.”

  “There’s also a lot that goes right,” Zasha protested.

  “Hello, hello,” a harried voice cut through the air, preventing Zasha from continuing her defense. “Sorry, I was out in the garden. The town council seems to think that we don’t need a gardener. I’d like to remind them that a li
brarian doesn’t usually have to split her time between the shelves and the dirt.”

  “Vera,” Zasha said, beaming sincerely when she saw Vera hurrying toward them in a pair of messy overalls. “I’ve brought my friend, Ivy, to meet you.”

  “Hi, Ivy,” Vera beamed. “It’s so good to meet you. We don’t often get visitors around these parts.”

  “Good to meet you too,” Ivy said with a friendly smile.

  “Vera, Ivy is a private investigator from the city. She’s here to look into the vandalism.”

  “How odd,” Vera said, her brow knitting together, “Isn’t that a bit far to travel for a minor case of vandalism?”

  “No, I’m not just here for the vandalism,” Ivy clarified quickly. “I was hired to look into Mrs. Bleeker’s murder. The vandalism case just caught my attention.”

  “That makes a lot more sense,” Vera said, nodding quickly. “I was beginning to think that they’d never do anything about this. That poor Lily doesn’t deserve any of this. I’m glad that others believe she’s innocent too.”

  “We really do,” Zasha said emphatically. “There’s no way Lily could’ve done something so evil to Mrs. Bleeker. After all, she loved Mrs. Bleeker like her own family.”

  “I don’t think I’d go that far,” Vera said with a frown. “But yes, she’d never hurt a fly. May I ask why a vandalism case drew your attention? Shouldn’t you be looking for evidence?”

  “We are,” Zasha said proudly.

  “We?” Vera echoed in surprise, looking at Ivy for confirmation. Ivy let out a long-suffering sigh as Zasha turned to her with a hopeful expression.

  “Yes,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes. “we. I thought that it would be good to look at the beginning of New Hope’s troubles, which seems to be the vandalism. From there, we see an escalation in the crimes. Vera, do you know who might be behind the vandalism?”

  “If I knew, I would’ve reported it right away,” Vera admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know who would want to vandalize my library. Sure, there are a few fellas around here who are still sore because I turned them down, but none of them were so madly in love that they would want revenge.”