Poplar Falls

by Arseneault, Pierre C;

  “Emma!” Bill shouted.

  “That’s it,” Emma screamed. “You’re in for it now!”

  Tilley would later swear she heard Bill giggle a little when Emma said that.

  “Viagra?” Dodge asked. “Wasn’t he at the clinic because of a sex addiction?”

  Dodge wondered briefly why you would supply a sex addict with pills like Viagra. The idea seemed counterproductive to any therapy the clinic was administering. But Emma always seemed more than happy to tell them everything, so he didn’t have to wonder long. It was as if she loved the idea of being the one who knew the truth, and being able to tell them. And since Charlie Baker was dead, there wasn’t any harm in telling the detectives.

  “Yes, Viagra,” Emma replied. “He would have bought them on the interweb or from some guy in an alley otherwise. People often use fake names to get it from sketchy pharmacists. And that’s not always safe.”

  Tilley remembered the pill bottle labelled Simon Doiron with the fake address, and assumed that was what those were.

  “True but doesn’t that go against what you’re doing at the rehab centre?” Dodge asked. He was curious now and wanted Emma’s version.

  “Well, we don’t try and stop people from having sex,” Emma replied with a large smile. “No, no. It’s not like booze or drugs, you know. Those you have to quit. You can’t just have a little. But not sex. Don’t be silly. We try and teach them how to not let sex rule their lives.”

  Dodge marvelled at this answer as it was not what he had expected from the mature woman standing before him.

  “Is it true that you asked him to leave the Centre?” Tilley asked.

  “Yes, but only because he was keeping us from helping the others,” Emma replied. “Lord knows we tried to help poor Charlie. We don’t try and teach abstinence, we teach control. And Charlie was out of control.”

  “It didn’t work with that damned Charlie Baker,” Bill shouted, who was still out of sight.

  Emma provided some rough dates that confirmed most of what the detectives already knew; mostly about the purchasing of the Viagra. They were soon satisfied with what they had been told, as Emma seemed sincere enough. But Dodge couldn’t help but wonder why Emma had not volunteered this information sooner. She must have known they would find this out quickly enough. Perhaps she was embarrassed about this since she knew Tilley personally. He remembered Emma telling him about Tilley, the Charlie’s Angel, and this suddenly struck Dodge as quite funny. He was able to stifle a laugh, but not the grin which suddenly appeared before he could stop it. He turned away from the ladies as he spoke his half-choked farewell, which he would then be required to explain to Tilley afterwards.

  “Okay, we’ll be in touch if we have any more questions,” Tilley said as she walked off the stoop and down to the walkway following Dodge.

  “Sorry we disturbed you,” Dodge added, who had regained his composure.

  “It’s no trouble,” Emma said with a smile.

  Tilley heard Bill speaking loudly as she walked away.

  “Are they gone yet?” Bill shouted.

  “Shut your trap if you know what’s good for you,” Emma shouted as she shut the door.

  When Dodge was over his sudden bout of chuckles and had reminisced about the Charlie’s Angel joke, he asked Tilley if the O’Briens had a dog. To which Tilley replied that this was highly doubtful, as Emma was severely allergic to all types of fur. A fact that Dodge would say was strange since there was a dog dish on the floor in the hallway and a leash on the entryway table. Neither of them would voice their opinions on this but both were thinking the same thing. There was a reason the Wellness Clinic treated sex addicts, and they both knew it.

  17

  As Detectives Franklin Dodge and Roxanne Tilley slowly drove through the entry gates of the isolated Magnolia Wellness and Rehabilitation Centre, they marvelled at the ornate landscape. The abundance of magnolia trees, most of which were in bloom with beautiful pink flowers, were simply breathtaking. The perfectly manicured bushes and flowerbeds made Dodge wonder just how much work it took to maintain such a display. Meanwhile Tilley had other things on her mind.

  “Really?” a miffed Tilley asked.

  “What?” Dodge replied. “I didn’t know that was back there. Probably fell out of a box while I was…”

  “You didn’t know you had women’s underwear in the back of your car?”

  “It was evidence,” Dodge stated, choosing to leave out the part about sneaking Panty Bandit evidence boxes and files home on a few occasions.

  “Oh, I know,” Tilley replied, having suspected Dodge’s obsession with the cold case was worse she thought. She hadn’t known just how severe it was until now. “Thank God it was tagged and in an evidence bag.”

  Dodge smiled sheepishly as he spoke. “I didn’t think he was going to search the vehicle that thoroughly.”

  “I bet they search the vehicle, he says,” Tilley quipped. “Even though we’re cops, they’re still going to search it,” she added while doing her best impression of her partner.

  “I figured they would,” Dodge replied. “They have to. Otherwise people would sneak in booze and drugs.”

  “Good thing you didn’t have booze or drugs, too, then,” Tilley replied, suspecting the security guard would end up having friends on the police force. Her worst fear was that this would get back to them and then the jokes and pranks would start.

  To change the subject, Dodge pointed out a dark-haired women sitting on a park bench near a water fountain. She was dressed in a white housecoat, while sobbing into a fist-full of tissues while another woman in pyjamas tried to console her.

  “Lifestyles of the rich and famous,” Dodge said, referring to the rumoured famous guests who frequented the rehab centre.

  As they pulled up to the main building, Tilley recalled coming to the centre in her youth. It was long ago, and she didn’t remember it looking as extravagant then. Soon after the detectives were at the front desk, marvelling at Stephanie who was clearly not having a very good day so far.

  “Look, if you’re here about that big-titted, blonde bitch, she’s not here, okay!” Stephanie blurted, wiping at a purple stain on the front off her uniform. She puffed at strands of hair that dangled in her face as she focused on getting the smoothie off her chest.

  “Let me start over,” Dodge said. “I’m Detective Franklin Dodge and this is my partner, Detective Roxanne Tilley. We’d like to speak to the manager if she’s available.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to be rude, but,” Stephanie said as she paused and pointed at the giant purple stain on her uniform, “I’m not exactly having the greatest day. So cut me some f’ing slack.”

  “We’re here to see the manager…” Tilley started before being cut off.

  “Damn it!” Stephanie marched off into a back room while another young woman in a dark burgundy uniform with a gold nametag exited from the same back room.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said with an air of sincerity. “She’s new and not used to dealing with recovering addicts,” she added. “I’m Amber. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Detective Franklin Dodge and this is Detective Roxanne Tilley. We’re here to speak to the manager.”

  “Not about Stephanie,” Tilley added. “It’s about a case we’re working on.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, but the manager isn’t available right now,” Amber said. She glanced about to make sure no one was listening. “She fell off the wagon,” she added in a hushed voice.

  “I’m sorry?” Dodge assumed he had misunderstood.

  “She was having a fling with one of our guests who died. At least that’s what Stephanie’s cousin Jeremy told her, that his friend Josh told him. Or was it her cousin Josh, who told Jeremy, who told her? Anyway, when Stella heard Charlie had died, she took to drinking again and hasn’t exactly st
opped since.” Amber looked about again as if expecting to see someone eavesdropping. “She’s an alcoholic,” she whispered.

  Dodge opened his mouth to speak but Amber cut him off.

  “She was sober five years,” she added. “That’s what Josh told Jeremy, who told Stephanie. Or was it Jeremy who told Josh? Anyway… they found her wearing nothing but her underwear, drunk and swimming in one of the ponds on the centre grounds.”

  Dodge now had a notebook out and was jotting down notes. Tilley marvelled at how forthcoming Amber was with all this information without even knowing why they were there.

  “Josh told Jeremy that Stella was trading pills for sex.”

  “Pills?” Tilley asked.

  “Pills,” Amber replied. “Viagra.” She said this in a hushed voice, as if that was a dirty word. “She checked herself in after they found her in the pond.”

  “You want to see the footage?” Amber asked with a sly grin.

  “Footage?” Dodge asked.

  “From the security cameras. Of Stella, in the pond?”

  Soon, Dodge would be in the back office with Amber watching the footage of Stella Rubbin in matching black bra and panties, playing in the pond while chugging a large bottle of liquor. He didn’t notice when Tilley walked off, as he was too busy watching footage from the morning Charlie Baker died. Amber was much too willing to show him the footage of Stella when she got the news of Charlie’s death. The staff had compiled it into a montage and had been sharing it amongst themselves ever since. The montage cleared Stella Rubbin of any wrongdoing, so Dodge asked for a copy. Amber reluctantly sent it to him.

  “Just please don’t get me fired, okay?” Amber stated.

  With Dodge busy with Amber, Tilley wandered off in search of Emma or Bill. They had every intention of questioning Stella, and since that didn’t seem quite as important anymore she went in search of someone she felt still might have been holding back information. And with Stella out of commission they had to be here, thought Tilley. Emma had volunteered much in their first conversation but then had divulged much more in their next visit. She couldn’t help but wonder what else her old babysitter might have to say. Plus, if she was right about Emma, she would still be conducting therapy sessions, for the juicy gossip more than anything. And if she was right, with an important and willing ear to listen, Tilley suspected that Emma might be the type to say more than she should under these circumstances. The older Emma grew, the stronger her love of gossip seemed to be.

  Wandering down an ornate hallway, Tilley heard someone calling out to her. The voice was not a young one. She peeked into a room where a circle of six mature women sat in uncomfortable padded wooden chairs, each of them knitting something colourful. She recognized the one unnaturally-looking redhead as Myrtle, but the rest of them were white- and grey-haired.

  “See,” Mavis said as she sat hunched over slightly while knitting. Her dress had multicoloured cat hairs all over it from her two cats. “I told you it was that Tilley girl.” She was the oldest of the ladies and had the thickest glasses, but still had managed to recognize her. “I remember her. But last time I saw her she was barely out of diapers.” A slight exaggeration on her part, but it had been a very long time since Mavis had set eyes on little “Silly Tilley”.

  A confused-looking Tilley scanned the group of very familiar ladies. She wasn’t sure she knew or remembered most of them but was now certain they knew her.

  “She’s all grown up now; just like Emma said she was. Her momma would be proud of her,” Aunt Agatha added as she blushed, lifted her knitting and worked away feverishly at a purple mitten, avoiding eye contact with Tilley.

  “You haven’t returned my calls,” Tilley said to Agatha.

  “I’m sorry, but I was too embarrassed,” Agatha blurted, still focused on her knitting.

  “She should be, too,” Myrtle quipped with a wide grin, exposing her dentures.

  “I heard Charlie had a really big one,” Ester said. A few of the others were knitting slippers while she was knitting a small deformed mitten with a too-large thumb.

  “We’re the Naughty Knitters Club,” Geraldine said with a smile, who Tilley now remembered as the wife of Pastor George. Tilley was a little surprised to see her here with this group of ladies.

  “A really big one,” Ester said with a grin as she focused on her knitting.

  “Did you come here to see Stella?” Emma questioned.

  Before Tilley could answer the question, Dodge walked in to hear Agatha speak.

  “I’m old not dead, you know. My VCR is broken, and I don’t know how to work a danged computer,” Agatha blurted.

  “I could help you with that,” Myrtle said with a gentle smile. “And I’ll show you the best websites,” she added with a wink at Tilley.

  “How big was he?” Ester asked, who had now put her knitting down in her lap and was smiling at Dodge.

  The slightly flushed Geraldine smiled while looking Dodge up and down as she spoke. “I bet he can still get it up.”

  Dodge blushed.

  Tilley smirked.

  “You need help, Ester!” Mavis said.

  “Isn’t that what we’re all here for?” Myrtle quipped with a smile.

  “This is a therapy group for sex addicts,” Mavis said. She smiled from behind her knitting and winked at Dodge.

  “I heard it was a foot long,” Ester said as she took to her knitting again. “Like the sandwich.”

  “Like I said to the cop at the station, the cute one with the broad shoulders and tight butt,” Agatha said as she blushed. “When I looked in that morning he was already dead.”

  “Did you see anyone coming or going that morning?” Tilley asked.

  “Cumming?” Myrtle asked with a giggle.

  “Not really,” Agatha replied. “But I always do my housework in the mornings.”

  “Naked,” Ester said. She checked out Dodge from the corner of her eye as she knitted. “She vacuums and cleans the house naked.”

  A familiar jingle suddenly sent Myrtle into a frenzied search through her purse. She pulled out a large pink rhinestone-encrusted iPhone and tapped away furiously at it until the resonating sound ceased. With arthritic hands, she fumbled the phone for a moment and then smiled.

  “I have to go, ladies,” Myrtle said with a smile.

  Ester looked at Tilley, scrunched her nose, and smiled as she spoke. “Myrtle got a booty call.”

  Myrtle’s face flushed as she stuffed her knitting equipment into a large flower-printed canvas bag, excused herself, and left the room.

  “We’ll still need to talk to you some more,” Tilley told Agatha as she glanced at the other ladies. “But it might be best if we did it in private at the station.”

  “Do it here,” Ester said. “We want to hear all about it.” She smiled at Dodge as she finished knitting what Dodge thought was the ugliest misshapen mitten he’d ever seen.

  “We really should go now,” Dodge said.

  “Here,” Ester said, winking, and handed her freshly knitted piece to Dodge. “That’s for you. Let me know if it fits. If not, I’m available for private fittings,” she added with a smile.

  As Dodge and Tilley left the room, Geraldine spoke. “I bet he can still get it up, no problem.”

  A comment to which Ester replied, “I’d rock his world, twice over.”

  They could hear the Naughty Knitters giggling like school girls as the detectives left the room. Once out of earshot, Dodge looked at Tilley while showing her what he now held in his hand. “Maybe she should give up knitting,” Dodge said as he showed Tilley what the old lady had given him. “That’s quite a deformed mitten.”

  “Actually that’s no mitten,” Tilley said with a smile. “That’s a penis cozy.”

  Clearly embarrassed, Dodge stuffed the knitted item into his pocket before anyone else cou
ld see it as Tilley got a serious case of the giggles that lasted longer than it should have. Tilley wanted revenge for the Charlie’s Angels jokes and seized the opportunity to have a good laugh at the expense of her partner. Tilley would have to remind Dodge that the not so innocent group of mature ladies who referred to themselves as the Naughty Knitters were actually a sex therapy group run by Emma O’Brien. That’s why they met at the Magnolia Wellness and Rehabilitation Centre.

  18

  On the way back to the station in Dodge’s old rusty Ford Escape, Tilley’s iPhone rang. Seeing it was Lemkie she answered the call, putting the phone on speaker so Dodge could hear.

  “Hey, got anything for us?” she asked before Lemkie could say anything. She glanced at Dodge while he drove.

  “Yes and no,” Lemkie replied.

  “Why am I not surprised? I should know better than to expect a straight answer from you,” replied Tilley with a smirk meant for Dodge.

  “Well, it’s not what we found but rather what we didn’t find,” Lemkie replied.

  “Spill it,” Dodge blurted.

  “Well, we went through the entire apartment. Catalogued what looked important, but we went through just about every inch of the place.”

  “Every inch? You went over every inch?” Tilley replied with a smile.

  “No dick jokes,” Lemkie said. “Please no more dick jokes.”

  “Okay,” Dodge said. “But only if you tell us what you didn’t find.”

  “Keys,” Lemkie replied. “We never found Charlie’s keys.”

  “Which probably means that’s how the killer would have locked the door on her way out,” Dodge said.

  “Her?” Tilley asked. “You’re so damned sure it was a woman. How can you be so sure it wasn’t a jealous ex or husband?”

  “He was tied to the bed and stiff as a board,” Dodge replied.

  “Yeah,” Lemkie added. “I found nothing to indicate that Charlie liked men and a hell of a lot of evidence to show he really liked women.”

  “Yeah, sure!” Tilley said. “But what if a jealous husband came by while Charlie was pilled up and helpless? That’s possible, if you ask me.”