Empty Promises and Crowded Caskets

by Ana Bisset

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I woke to the sun beaming into my bedroom window through the frilly pink sheers. I looked out to see the blue sky with puffy white clouds. Maine skies have a way of looking so warm in winter, while the temperatures are well below freezing. I slipped out of bed, putting on my slippers, and a long red sweater. Crossing the room I turned up the heat.

  While waiting for the room to warm up, I checked my phone for messages. Tony had stopped calling the day before, I wondered if that meant anything, and then let it go because I didn’t care. There was a message from Sheriff Kyle letting me know he would be here later this afternoon to talk to me.

  I didn’t think I was going to be home later this afternoon. No, not today. I think I will get ready and meet him on his turf. This way I can get a few things off my chest and not upset Grammie with his interrogation about the night before.

  I texted him letting him know that I would be at the police station this morning, just before noon. He replied back almost immediately that he would see me there. That was easy.

  I got up to take a shower and go down to breakfast. I could smell the coffee and knew Grammie was up and about already. I’ve never been an early riser, not sure I understand the mentality behind dragging your body out of bed when it is still as tired as it was the night before. I do, however, realize the benefits of moving once you do get out of bed.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Grammie greeted me as I walked into the kitchen. She had made a full breakfast, complete with homemade donuts. This should have been my first clue, but I was too hungry to notice what she was up to.

  She handed me this morning’s Boston Gazette. There on the front cover was the headline, Modern Mafia Ingrained in New England Culture. It seemed for whatever reason, Tony got the byline all by himself, not sure how I felt about that.

  “I see your young man didn’t hesitate to take all the credit for your hard work,” she said as she placed more comfort food in front of me.

  I scanned the article quickly to see if there was anything that would point back to my source. While I wish I knew who it is, I didn’t want the mob guessing at it. Protecting one’s source is a carnal rule in journalism. I am not sure Tony understood that as he gave away a lot of information with this article. But there were no signs of real disclosure.

  “He didn’t use all of my hard work, some of this I have disproved, but he printed it because he doesn’t know that. Other items may get him into hot water with the police, or the crime families themselves,” I said shaking my head.

  “I don’t like to think that you could be pulled into this nonsense,” Grammie said while eating her breakfast.

  “No need to worry, Grammie. I wouldn’t have written something this sensational and he didn’t share with me which means that my name isn’t in the byline. I’ve never been after fame, it is the truth I was looking for. Tony, on the other hand, seems to want to be a star reporter. I can’t see how I missed that when we started dating.”

  “I’ll never stop worrying about you. But, I am glad you are here and not there today,” she said.

  “Me too,” I said as I took a bite of homemade donut goodness. “I am going to talk to Kyle today. Maybe bury the hatchet.”

  “Might be a good idea, since you are in town and he is the sheriff,” she said. “Tell him something for me?”

  “Sure, what?”

  “While talking the other night at Mae’s house, the ladies and I made an observation. John Smith didn’t wear glasses,” she said. “I just thought he should be told in case he didn’t know.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Our local police department is located on the north end of town. It has a direct route to the harbor and the town square with the interstate being about twenty minutes away. It sits up on Black Ridge than the rest of the town and our small hospital is directly across the road. It is complete with two jail cells and offices for the sheriff, his deputies, and staff. There is a conference room, mostly used for neighborhood watch meetings but it also doubles as a small court room.

  I walked in and went directly to Cassey’s desk, the station secretary. She was young and a friend of Leah’s.

  “Hi, Libby. You can go right into the sheriff’s office. He is expecting you,” she said.

  “Thanks, Cassey,” I said as I walked around her desk and those in the outer office. I tapped on the door jamb and saw Kyle look up from his desk. He looked tired but engaged in what he had been reading. It didn’t take long to figure out why when I noticed he had a copy of today’s Boston Gazette in front of him.

  He came around his desk, offered me a chair and shut the door. As he sat back down, he pointed to the paper, “Did you see today’s headlines?” he asked.

  “I did.” I said, keeping it short and sweet.

  “I have to say, I didn’t know your boyfriend had it in him,” he continued.

  “He doesn’t, and as I said, he is no longer my boyfriend,” I said.

  “Right, sorry to hear that,” he said, looking genuinely remorseful. He folded the paper and placed it back on the desk.

  “Thank you, now can we talk about why you have asked me down here and not my love life?” I asked.

  “Sure, do you want to start with what you were doing at the Smith house last night?” he asked.

  “As I said before, Nikki is looking into buying the property and we had seen the explosion from a distance before the service. So we went to check out the damage. She had been given a key.”

  “I contacted the real estate agency, they did give her a key. But, that was before it was turned into a crime scene,” he said.

  “It wasn’t marked as a crime scene,” I pointed out, noticing he was already getting frustrated.

  Men have veins on the sides of their foreheads that pop out when they are frustrated or angry. I’m sure women have them too, but we don’t allow them to be seen. Kyle’s veins were starting to plump up, giving me a sign to tone down the sarcasm.

  “I know you didn’t want us there, but you have to admit that it wasn’t marked and we did have a right to be there,” I repeated.

  “I’ll admit to the first part of that if you let me in on some of the things you found out and why you wanted to be there,” he said.

  “Not that I am admitting to anything, but I’ll have to think about that,” I said.

  “So what happened between you and Tony?” he asked, as if he any rights to what goes on in my life.

  “I'm not sure that's any of your business,” I said. “I haven't asked you what you've been doing for the past five years.”

  “All you would have had to do is read my letters, any one of them,” he said.

  “For what reason exactly? To be reminded why you didn't want me or why you gave up on us? I said the reasons didn't matter. Your actions mattered.” Because I was able to deliver that line with no emotion attached, it took a long time to hide those pesky emotions, he backed off.

  “Sorry I don't want to bring this all back up again,” he said.

  “Of course you don't,” I smiled knowingly.

  “Libby if you and I are both going to be living in this town we have to have some basis of contact where you don’t want to kill me. You can't hate me for the rest of your life,” he said.

  “You sure about that?” I laughed.

  “Yeah, I'm sure about that,” he said with a smirk on his face.

  “I don't hate you. I'm not sure how I feel about you. I've done my best not to think about you for years. But, you're right. We need to at least get along,” I said.

  “I was hoping for friends,” he said

  “I have to be able to trust friends and I know one thing, I'm not able to trust you,” I said.

  “That's fair, I guess, but I'd like the opportunity to earn that back,” he said, “we could be friends again.”

  "Or, we could skip friends and pretend we don't know each other again. You know, cut right to the end." I said, a little too bitterly.

  "Years ago,
I told myself that there is no way to show you how sorry I was, so when you didn’t answer my letters, I stopped trying. Now, it has been so long that I have no idea where to start to show you how sorry I still am. I don't need your forgiveness, because I don't deserve it. But right now, I think you need a friend and I am offering," he said.

  I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. "Okay, but my shields are staying up, Sheriff Kyle."

  “Noted. Let's go get lunch,” he said as he grabbed his coat off the wall hook and made his way out of the station.

  “I'll be back Cassey,” he told his secretary, noticing she was texting on her phone. “I hope that is station business you are typing out there,” he said to her.

  She looked up startled, “Sorry, Sheriff. Leah is having men troubles and I’m feeling bad for her.”

  “Feel bad for her on your break,” he said, walking past her desk towards the door. I followed.

  She turned the phone off but took note that she saw Kyle and I were leaving together. Let the gossip begin, I thought. Everyone who is anyone in town is going to know we are having lunch together before we even get our sandwich order. I have to wonder if Kyle didn't plan on this.

  "Stop looking so worried," he said, "Better everyone finds out now, before they receive our second wedding invitations."

  Shocked, I punched him in the arm. He took a step back and put up his hands. "Just kidding!" he laughed.

  "Do not push it," I said as I realized he was still able to read my thoughts.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We crossed the street and walked into The Cove Diner. It sat on the corner of Market and first avenue, only a block away from the town square. It served breakfast, lunch and coffee throughout the afternoon while the owner baked breads and sweets that she placed for sale or used the next day.

  “I haven’t eaten here in years,” I said.

  "Still the best grinders and chowders in Maine, that aren’t homemade," he said.

  “Now that we can agree on,” I said.

  “Gotta start somewhere, I guess,” he chuckled and then got serious,

  “But we are never going to agree on all things, one of them being your involvement with the Esposito murder.” He saw that I was going to say something, and he put his hand up and waved it as if shushing me, “I know what you do for a living and you have rights as the press - even if you may not be with the Boston Gazette any longer. But I don't want you messing with the investigation.”

  I tried to say something and again he tried to shush me. This time I wasn't having it.

  “If you let me speak, maybe you'll find I have information for you. Or would that be 'messing with your investigation', Sheriff?” I said, snark may not be becoming, but it sure did make a woman feel good sometimes.

  I had thought through how to tell him my biggest secret so many times, it was almost as if he should already know. I have to admit the emotional reasons for not telling him aren’t as strong as before, but they were still there. I’m not sure why and I am not sure I want to explore why.

  “Waiting, Libby…”

  “Yeah, I know. You are going to either think I am crazy or I am lying when I get through what I want to tell you. I want you to know that it’s okay to think of me that way. I want you to. I want you to go and ask anyone you need to ask about this. I’m being very clear, please check it out. But when you hear the same thing I am going to tell you, over and over again, from good people you have known all your life, I want you to tell me you believe me. When you can do that, then we can be friends again. If you can’t, I’ll understand.” I said.

  “I’m not sure I want you to tell me now,” he said.

  “No backing out, Sheriff.”

  The waitress came to see want we wanted and hurried away when it was obvious by our one word answers that we were in a heated discussion. As she left the table I realized I didn’t know what I had ordered, I was too worried about what I was going to say. It was a good thing that I would pretty much eat anything on their menu.

  “Do you remember old Sheriff Taft and my grandfather doing things together? They’d go fishing or hiking and often Gramps would help out on a case, he’d consult,” I said.

  He nodded, I grabbed is attention by talking about my grandfather.

  “Gramps was a special kind of consultant. He knew things that the sheriff didn’t because he could see ghosts,” I said. Kyle looked at me, it was as if time froze for a full ten seconds.

  “He could see ghosts? What type of ghosts? You mean like spirits? People who aren’t living?” he said as he tried to get his head wrapped around the concept that someone he knew and admired could have been nuts.

  “Those types of ghosts, yes. And I can too.” Might as well put it all out there. “I saw Diego in the carriage house. I don’t know why he was there. I saw him at the Smith house. I think that is because he was put in the casket there.”

  The waitress came and placed our food order in front of us. Haddock sandwich, fries, and a pickle - not a bad lunch, considering. Kyle grabbed a fry and ate it, then took a big bite of his club sandwich.

  “We should have gone to lunch at the Shady Pine so I could have ordered a whiskey,” he said. “I always knew there was something about your grandfather. It was like he knew I was leaving that last time I talked to him,” he said.

  “I’ll remember whiskey for the next time I have to bare my soul to someone,” I said.

  He looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. He was concerned, I could tell by the way his eyebrows crowded together. I hoped that didn’t mean he was going to call the guys in the white suits that carried a big net.

  “You never told me, before…” he said.

  “No, I was afraid of losing you. You are so grounded in reality. That’s probably why I loved you so much,” I said.

  “And now you aren’t afraid of losing me,” he said. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “It has been years, Kyle. If you need assurances of my mental state, you can talk to Grammie, Mel, or Nikki. They all know. Then, there is old Sheriff Taft, he would remember about Gramps,” I said. I took another bite of my sandwich, it was good and I was hungry.

  “Mmm… I may do that. But for right now I think I will just trust you,” he said. “Don’t look so shocked. You may think we’ve changed a lot in the last ten years, but I know you. You really did just bare your soul and I have no reason not to trust what you tell me.”

  “I am shocked. Glad you aren’t freaking out,” I said.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. You said he was at the Smith house? Is that why you girls went to check it out?” he asked.

  “Yes and no, Nikki really did want to see the damage. She is thinking about buying the place for her spa. Now she knows she had to get someone in there to assess the price of fixing if before she makes an offer. I saw him on the porch, he was trying to get in, but he was blocked at the door.”

  “Why was he blocked?” Kyle asked.

  “I have no idea. I see them, sometimes they talk and tell me things. But I don’t have a lot of understanding of their world. My grandfather was better at that and Mel likes to figure some of it out,” I said.

  “I can see that. Tell me about the carriage house.”

  “I had just gotten home, hadn’t even gone in to say hi to Grammie. I thought I was going to be moving into the carriage house apartment, but it was filled with stuff. I had heard a knocking noise and went to see what it was.” At this point he stopped me.

  “Just indulge me a second. You see ghosts and when you hear a knocking noise you go towards it?” he asked.

  “Yes. They can’t hurt me. I am not afraid of them as much as I am afraid they can figure out I can see them. I don’t want them following me around. It’s annoying,” I said. “Do you want to hear the rest of it?”

  He nodded, and I continued, “I went to the big office and he was trying to get into the file cabinet, but failing and getting angry. When I said something, he
ran towards me and tried to push me out of his way but instead he went right through me. It surprised him, I don’t think he knew he was dead. Then, he wasn’t there anymore.” I said.

  “That explains what you said at the service. Did you see anything else in the carriage house?” he asked.

  “No. I had had a bad day, and I just wanted to get settled. I didn’t even tell Grammie about until later,” I said as I finished off my fries.

  “Okay, I have to deal with the state this afternoon. Can I call you this evening and we can check out the carriage house together?” he asked.

  “Yes, that works with my schedule, which is almost empty at this point.”

  We both got up, he picked up the check and paid. As we were leaving, he said, “I’m glad you told me.”

  I smiled and thanked him for lunch. He walked to the station and I walked to my car. I was still worried about revealing all of that to him. But it was done.

  I hope I made the right choice.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Conner Grocery is a full-service grocery store run by the Conner family. Mel and her older sister Mandy were therefore locked into having a job from the time they could stock shelves until forever. To this day, Mandy works full time doing all the buying needs for the store even though she moved out of the family home, is married, and has two little ones that can be found running around the store at any given time. Mel does anything that is asked of her and enjoys the job as it brings her close to the community, keeping her ‘in the know’ as far as gossip and local news.