Sins of the Mother

by Megan Mollson

  “I don’t know about that,” Dorothy said with a laugh, looking over at Ivy. “I doubt my brew compares to anything in the big city.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Ivy said in amusement. “Some of that coffee tastes like pig swill. I’m sure your coffee will be great.”

  “You know what makes it special, is my world-famous lemon meringue pie. I’ll happily brag about that pie. It’s sweet, but very good. I insist that you get a slice on the house. You’re doing so much for the Turners, it’s the least I can do.”

  “Oh, no,” Ivy said, “I’m only doing my job.”

  “You can’t say no when Dorothy tells you something,” Zasha said with a smile. “It’s easier to roll over and take what she gives you. You won’t regret it.”

  “If you insist,” Ivy said hesitantly, looking between the two of them.

  “I do,” Dorothy said with a kind smile. “Now, please sit and I’ll be on my way. Zasha, send love to your family. I’ve been meaning to drop by and see how your mother’s doing.”

  “She’s doing just fine,” Zasha said, leading Ivy to a table in the corner.

  “I’m so glad to hear it,” Dorothy said before placing a quick kiss on Zasha’s cheek and hurrying off.

  “She’s so nice,” Zasha said dreamily. “And you’re in for a treat. Her pie is out of this world.”

  It didn’t take long for the waitress to come over. She was a new girl who Zasha didn’t quite recognize, but she was nice enough. When she left, Ivy leaned back in her chair and examined her surroundings curiously.

  “This is much nicer than I expected,” Ivy said, looking impressed. “I didn’t think I’d find something like this in New Hope.”

  “We have nice things here,” Zasha sniffed, sounding offended.

  The café was tastefully decorated with stylish furniture and transported one from the streets of New York to a trendy café right off the pages of a magazine.

  “Yeah, but how?” Ivy asked in surprise. “Something like this would cost a lot of money. How did Dorothy put all this together?”

  “Well, when her husband died, she got his army pension. She managed to get it all paid out at once and used the money to open this place. She was very lucky; a lot of the other widows didn’t get that option. And it was a gamble. If this place failed, then she would’ve had nothing left.”

  “You’re telling me,” Ivy said skeptically. “I’ve never heard of the army pension being paid out all at once.”

  “I heard that her husband died a hero,” Zasha said with a shrug. “He saved some men or something. They gave him a medal and everything. Maybe they make special allowances for heroes.”

  “Once again, not in my experience,” Ivy scoffed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Zasha said eventually. “I still think she accomplished something amazing.”

  “Don’t mind me,” Ivy said with a sheepish smile as their waitress placed the food in front of them. “It’s a work habit. I’m suspicious of everything. I can’t help it. I agree, Dorothy did do something amazing. She started from nothing and look what she’s done. I can’t begrudge her that.”

  Zasha relaxed and took her coffee. She sipped it slowly then took a quick bite of her pie, enjoying the way the tart lemony sweetness tasted against the bitter backdrop of coffee. As she savored her treat, a memory jumped unbidden into her mind.

  She remembered Sebastian’s earnest expression when he told her to avoid anything sweet. Zasha looked down at her pie in shock. It turned to ash in her mouth. Surely, he didn’t mean…

  “You were right about this coffee,” Ivy said approvingly. “This is exactly what I needed. This is going to help me think better. You know, I might just consider moving to New Hope for the coffee. Do you think I could persuade Dorothy to move her operation to the city?”

  “Excuse me,” Zasha murmured.

  She got to her feet and hurried to the back of the café. Over the years, Dorothy had invited them over countless times. It seemed that Dorothy was the only person Yelena could stand to be around at any time. Dorothy had the gift of putting people at ease and making them trust her.

  As a result, Zasha knew her way around the office at the back of the café. She’d also been to Dorothy’s apartment above the café more times than she could count.

  This time, Zasha knew exactly where she was going. Dorothy wasn’t much of a reader, so the only books in her office were the financial ledgers in her drawers. She’d seen Dorothy take them out once to check something while they were visiting. She flipped through the book, looking for a specific date. When she got there, her eyes widened and she closed it and hurried out to Ivy.

  “What’s going on?” Ivy asked curiously. Her mouth was full of pie, and she looked blissfully happy. It was the happiest Zasha had ever seen her. That was the power of Dorothy’s pie, it could make anyone happy.

  “I think I found something,” Zasha said, placing the ledger in front of Ivy. She opened it and pointed to the book’s spine.

  “A page was ripped out?” Ivy said in confusion, looking up at Zasha questioningly. “What is this?”

  “These are Dorothy’s financial records,” Zasha hissed, sitting down quickly and looking around to make sure that no one was listening to her. “This was the month Dorothy opened the café. She ripped it all out. I was wrong, she didn’t open the café after the war. She opened it during the war. More precisely, she opened it in nineteen-sixteen.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened and she choked on her pie. Zasha leaned over and clapped her on the back. She smiled reassuringly at a few other guests who looked their way. Once Ivy took a sip of coffee, she managed to stop coughing and looked at the records more carefully.

  “Hold on, does this mean what I think it means?” Ivy asked, her voice raspy. “How is it possible?”

  “I was wondering how Mrs. Turner managed to do washing and farming at the same time,” Zasha whispered urgently. ‘It occurred to me that she might’ve had help, but I couldn’t figure out who. Remember when Mr. Turner said that Dorothy had been a good friend to Mrs. Turner? Well, what if the friendship started during the war? And what if Dorothy was Mary’s partner? They could’ve stolen the money together and split it.”

  “That way Dorothy would’ve been able to open the café and Mary would’ve been able to save the farm,” Ivy said slowly. “That fits.”

  “Dorothy is also the most trusted person in New Hope,” Zasha pointed out. “She could easily have kept tabs on Mrs. Bleeker by befriending Lily. Once she found out that Mrs. Bleeker knew about the theft, Dorothy decided to put her plan in motion.”

  “This is a lot of speculation,” Ivy said cautiously. “We’re going to need more than a missing page and a hunch. We need evidence.”

  “I agree,” Zasha said firmly. “Come on, I know where we’re going to get it.”

  “Where?” Ivy asked, getting up from her chair.

  “Dorothy’s apartment is right upstairs,” Zasha explained as she walked. “All we have to do is search it. There’s no way she covered all her tracks.”

  “You’re suggesting that we break into Dorothy’s apartment?” Ivy asked incredulously. “Who are you and what have you done to the Zasha I know?”

  “If we’re wrong, then we can explain it to Dorothy. Sure, she’ll be mad, but at least we’ll know she’s innocent. And if she isn’t, well, no harm, no foul.”

  “How is this different from anything I’ve done all this time?” Ivy asked with a frown. “You’ve been complaining this whole time.”

  “The difference is now you’re the one who’s complaining.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dorothy’s apartment was neat and orderly. Zasha had to control the anger that was rising up inside of her. Her mind flashed back to when they had arrived at the Turner farmhouse and found it turned upside down. Mrs. Turner had always prided herself on having a tidy house, but after she had been killed, her murderer had gone to the effort of trashing everything.

  “I’ll
check the bedroom,” Ivy announced, walking toward the bedroom.

  Zasha nodded absently and looked around the living room. It was a small apartment, but she could see that it was everything that Dorothy would ever need. She wondered what it would be like to have her own small apartment. For the first time since Ivy had offered to let Zasha stay with her in the city, Zasha allowed herself to consider it. What would life be like?

  “Zasha!” Ivy called, and Zasha was ripped from her daydream.

  She immediately flushed in shame. What was she doing? They were busy searching through someone’s house. She had to focus.

  “What is it?”

  Just as she was about to head into the bedroom, someone knocked on the door. Zasha’s eyes widened and she hurried over to the door. Ivy came out of the room with a shocked expression, and when she saw Zasha standing nervously at the door with a questioning expression, Ivy nodded quickly. Zasha took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

  To her surprise, Tom was standing on the other side with a puzzled expression. They stared at each other in shock, neither of them saying anything.

  “I know you,” Ivy said in amusement, walking up to the door. “You’re Zasha’s fella. What are you doing here?”

  “We’ve been looking for you two all over,” Tom said, still looking at Zasha in shock. “We heard that you were at the café, but when I got here, you weren’t anywhere. I asked the waitress, and she said that she saw you head up here. Zasha, what’s going on? Why are you in Dorothy’s apartment? Does she know you’re here?”

  “No,” Ivy said, holding up the picture frame in her hand and squinting at it. “What we’re doing is entirely illegal. Tell me, are you going to bring the law down upon us?”

  “I don’t…” Tom said, looking confused. “What’s going on here? What are you doing? Zasha, I didn’t want to believe it, but I’m seeing it with my own eyes. Don’t you know how much trouble you could get into?”

  “Of course, she knows,” Ivy said with a shrug, “but she still suggested it. And I’m glad she did. Otherwise, I’d still be sitting downstairs scratching my head over this case like a dolt. You should be really proud of your girl, honey. She cracked this case wide open.”

  “What is she talking about?” Tom asked in confusion.

  “I don’t know,” Zasha admitted with a shrug. “Ivy, what are you on about now?”

  “Look at this picture,” Ivy said, holding it out to Zasha. She took the frame and looked down at it with a frown. When she spotted it, her eyes widened, and she looked at Ivy in shock.

  There, standing in the frame was Dorothy’s husband in his army uniform. He was a handsome young man with dark hair and a square jaw. He had kind eyes, and Zasha was sad that he met an untimely end. He and Dorothy could’ve been very happy together. Perhaps if he hadn’t died things would’ve ended differently.

  Zasha’s attention was drawn to the man’s hip, where he was proudly displaying a gun on his hip. It was the same gun that Ivy had drawn out of the water tower at the Turner farm.

  “Impossible,” Zasha said, her voice soft.

  It had been her hunch, but now that she was faced with proof, she could hardly believe it. She could feel her heart break and she remembered what Sebastian had told her. Now, she had found the truth and she couldn’t begin to comprehend the consequences.

  “What’s going on?” Tom asked impatiently. “I’d like to know what’s happening, please.”

  “Yes, we realize that,” Ivy said in irritation. “You can’t show up right at the end and demand answers. We’ve been working toward this for days now. You could’ve helped at any time, but what have you been doing? Sulking, I bet.”

  “I haven’t been sulking,” Tom argued with a frown. “I was busy! There’s been a lot to do. I have something important to ask Zasha, and that requires a lot of planning.”

  “I’m glad you think now is the time to plan that sort of thing,” Ivy scoffed. “What did you think? Her best friend was almost murdered! Instead of focusing on doing something stupid, you should’ve been by her side. You know who’s been by her side? Sebastian. He’s been more of a help than you’ll ever be.”

  “You’ve been spending time with Sebastian?” Tom asked in surprise. “Why?”

  “Of course,” Ivy threw up her hands in frustration. “You could’ve focused on anything! But you choose to focus on that. Listen up, honey, if you’re going to stick around then you need to be useful. Zasha and I are about to catch a killer.”

  “Impossible,” Tom said with a frown. “Who is it?”

  “Dorothy,” Zasha said, closing her eyes as she said it. She hoped that if she closed her eyes, she might be able to get a moment to think. She was wrong.

  “You’re joking,” Tom scoffed. “Come on, that’s not right. You can’t possibly think that Dorothy had anything to do with this. She loved the Turners.”

  “She loved herself more,” Ivy said with a sigh.

  “What are you talking about?” Tom asked in annoyance. “Zasha?”

  “It’s true,” Zasha said softly. “Please trust me on this. We need to find her. She needs to confess so that this will all be over.”

  “I don’t know,” Tom said, looking conflicted.

  “You’re joking,” Ivy said angrily. “You were going to ask this woman to become your wife, but when she asks you to trust her on something important, you hesitate! What’s wrong with you?”

  “Why are you so determined to pick a fight with me?” Tom asked in bewilderment.

  “Someone has to,” Ivy said firmly. “You need a reality check, and if I’m the one who has to give it to you, then so be it. Zasha’s asking you to trust her. Do you trust her or not?”

  Tom hesitated and looked over at Zasha who was watching him with an inscrutable expression. He nodded slowly.

  “Okay, we need to find Dorothy and make her confess to murder,” Tom said, wincing as he spoke. “This is going to be such a mess.”

  “Good job,” Ivy said, clapping him on the back. “You’re doing the bare minimum. It’s a start, I guess.”

  “Cut him some slack,” Zasha told Ivy. “Where’s Dorothy?” Her eyes widened as she remembered and looked at Ivy in horror. The truth dawned on Ivy and she cursed viciously, causing Tom to stare at her in disgust.

  “Where is she?” Tom asked in confusion.

  “She went to look after Evelyn while Mr. Turner freshened up,” Zasha explained in a whisper. “She’s going to finish the job.”

  “That’s not all,” Ivy said. “I checked the safe in the room to make sure the gun wasn’t in there, and it’s been cleared out. My guess is that the register downstairs will also be empty. I think Dorothy knows we’re on to her and wants to get out of town.”

  “That’s…” Tom swallowed heavily as he went pale. Zasha looked at him curiously and he shook his head at her. “Mr. Turner called from the hospital. He said that Evie’s awake and she’s looking for you.”

  “We need to get to the hospital,” Zasha said firmly.

  “Come on,” Ivy said, rushing out the door. Zasha moved to follow her, but Tom grabbed her arm to stop her.

  “Zasha,” Tom said in concern. “What’s going on? This isn’t like you. You’re asking me to trust you, and I want to, but I need a bit more information.”

  “That isn’t trust, Tom,” Zasha said with a frown. “Haven’t I earned your trust?” She knew it wasn’t the time to have this conversation, but it suddenly seemed very important. She could sense that the outcome of the conversation would change things between them for good.

  “I trust you,” Tom insisted, “but look at things from my perspective. You’ve been acting strangely ever since that woman came to town. You ran away from the funeral, you broke into Dorothy’s apartment, and who knows what else. I’m worried about you, and so is everyone else. What you’re doing now could affect our future.”

  “Our future?” Zasha asked, pulling her arm away from him. “Do you really care that much about wh
at people say?”

  “What’s gotten into you?” Tom asked with a hurt expression. “I thought we were on the same page. It feels like you’re pulling away from me.”

  “I’m not,” Zasha said, but it sounded false to her own ears. She watched Tom carefully, feeling like she was talking to a stranger. “Tom, this isn’t the time. I need to get to Evelyn. I promise we can talk about this when I get back.”

  “When will that be?” Tom asked as she started walking away.

  Zasha turned and saw what she had been trying to avoid from the beginning. Tom was obviously hurt, and that reflected in his gorgeous blue eyes, her heart tore further and she struggled not to cry. This wasn’t what she wanted, but she didn’t see any way to stop it.

  “Is the real Zasha coming back?” Tom asked quickly, sensing that he had caught her. “Or is this who you are now?”

  “You could come with me,” Zasha suggested. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We don’t have to let go of each other. You could come with me, and we could do this together.”

  Tom took a step back, and Zasha knew she had her answer. It was a long shot, but she thought it was worth a try. Even as she said it, she knew what the answer would be, but in that moment it had seemed possible. What if she could have both? She didn’t have to give up anything. Now she saw that she had been naïve. She turned away and clenched her eyes shut.

  “Tom, we’re going to talk about this when I get back. Evie needs me.”

  “Is it Ivy or Evie?” Tom asked, hurrying after her. “It seems to me like you’ve forgotten who your friends are.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Zasha said in annoyance. “I’m starting to realize who my real friends are. Tom, don’t do this now.”

  “Everything was in place,” Tom said, his voice was getting louder. He looked desperate. “And then it all fell apart.”

  “There was a murder!” Zasha pointed out as they headed down the stairs. “It would be crazy to expect things to stay the same. Why can’t you realize that? Look, it was inevitable that we’d change eventually. Why are you letting it get to you?”