by Dale Mayer
Table of Contents
Title Page
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
About Footprints in the Ferns
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Author’s Note
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
Riches to rags. … Controlling to chaos. … But murder … well maybe …
Doreen’s success at solving murders has hit the newswires across the country, but all Doreen wants is to be left alone. She has antiques to get to the auction house and a relationship with Corporal Mack Moreau to work out, not to mention a new friendship to nurture with Penny, Doreen’s first friend in Kelowna, and Doreen doesn’t want to ruin things.
But when a surprise accusation won’t leave Doreen alone—about Penny’s late husband George’s death and made by one of the men Doreen helped put away—she thinks that maybe it can’t hurt to just take a quick look into her new friend’s past.
Before Doreen knows it, she’s juggling a cold case, a closed case, and a possible mercy killing … along with cultivating her relationships with Penny, Mack, and Doreen’s pets: Mugs, the basset hound; Goliath, the Maine coon cat, and Thaddeus, the far-too-talkative African gray parrot. And while Mack should be used to Doreen’s antics by now, when she dives into yet another of his cases it’s becoming increasingly hard to take …
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Chapter 1
Sunday Afternoon …
It had been such a rough day, and it wasn’t over yet. Doreen groaned. At least her incident with Hornby was in the past. Although today was the same day of that Hornby incident, she felt like this was a whole new beginning. Then she’d said that many times since her soon-to-be-ex-husband had replaced her with his newest arm candy—her former divorce attorney no less.
Although it was hard to be upset about that now. If she’d stayed in her marriage with her controlling husband, she’d never have had all the wonderful experiences she’d had since moving to her new house, her grandmother’s old house. And all the cases Doreen had solved since arriving in Kelowna, well, … she’d helped bring closure to a lot of people.
And now maybe one more—Penny—although Doreen still struggled with Hornby’s accusations that Penny might have killed her husband. Doreen could toss it off as sour grapes from a man heading to prison for the rest of his life, but what if there’d been a grain of truth to it?
Mack had finally gotten a hold of Penny, given her the official account as to her missing brother-in-law—now confirmed as murdered by Alan Hornby—and she’d come home from visiting a friend in Vernon. As soon as she’d hit town, she had walked to Doreen’s place. When Doreen opened her front door, Penny threw her arms around her.
“Thank you so much for getting me answers,” Penny cried out and hugged her again. After a moment, she stepped back and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to run out on you. But I didn’t know what that horrible man meant to do. I couldn’t stick around long enough to find out.”
“It’s okay,” Doreen said. “Hornby can’t hurt you again.”
Needing to walk and talk, both of them still too keyed up to just sit inside, they strolled along Doreen’s backyard as Doreen gave Penny all the details. When their questions and answers ran out, Penny noticed the large garden beds along the side fence. “This will be lovely,” she said, motioning to a long stretch of Doreen’s overgrown garden.
“I’ve got a long way to go to get it back to what it was when Nan lived here,” Doreen said. “It’s a lot of work.”
“Understood. It’s the same at my place,” Penny said. “And not sure I want to now. Before Johnny disappeared, I loved gardening. Then it became a way to wear off the worry and tension over the years, but after George’s death …”
“I’d leave it as is,” Doreen said. “You’re selling, and your yard doesn’t look too bad.”
“And yet, selling the house feels like a betrayal of George.”
Doreen looked at Penny. “Were you happy with George?”
Penny beamed. “Very happy. He was a good provider, a good man, a good husband.”
Doreen didn’t know if she should ask about George’s death. It was an uncomfortable topic. Just because Hornby had made some accusations, that didn’t mean it wasn’t true but also didn’t mean Hornby wasn’t just causing trouble. “How did George die again?”
“A heart attack,” Penny said, her face stilling. She put a hand to her heart. “He went very quickly.”
Penny walked toward the rear of the property, where a large bunch of echinacea stood. The blooms hadn’t opened yet, but it looked to explode with flowers soon.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Doreen said. “That must have been very difficult.”
“Oh, it was,” she said. “It was, indeed.”
Doreen looked at the low patch of echinacea and smiled. “I remember how your plants are much bigger than mine.” She motioned at her echinacea, adding, “I have all kinds of plants crowding mine. Plus my garden is full of others I need to move, like foxglove, belladonna, nightshade …” She slid her glance sideways, checking Penny’s reaction to Doreen’s list of poisonous plants but saw absolutely nothing untoward. Satisfied, Doreen linked her arm with Penny’s and faced her new gardening friend. “I’m glad Mack got a hold of you before you heard it elsewhere.”
“I’m sure I have you to thank you for that,” Penny said. “I should get home now.” She looked back at Doreen’s gardens as they walked toward the creek. She pointed at another clump of echinacea. “You know what? Considering we found Johnny’s dagger in the dahlias at my place and then Johnny’s medallion in my front yard, I won’t ever look at a big clump of plants again without wondering if more evidence is hiding in it.”
Doreen’s mind kicked in, repeating evidence in the echinacea, evidence in the echinacea. But that was not today’s case. That would wait for another day. With a smile she said, “Forget all about that for now. We can talk gardening and plants and evidence another day.”
Penny chuckled. “Sounds good to me. At least we have something in common.”
Doreen nodded. “We do, indeed. We plant things, all kinds of seeds, even ideas we weren’t aware we were planting …” Her tone was cryptic.
Penny looked at her sideways, but Doreen just smiled and suggested, “Maybe you should set up a memorial garden for Johnny now.” At Penny’s startled look, Doreen explained further. “I know that came out of the blue. But I was thinking, you know, as I looked at that echinacea, how you have lost both Johnny and George, and both of them loved your home.”
“But I’m selling it,” Penny said. “Remember that?”
Doreen nodded. “Maybe that’s a nice way to l
eave it then, as the home you all shared together,” she said. “Creating a memorial garden before you move out would be a nice thing to do for them. If the new owners rip it out, well, all fair and good. You wouldn’t have to do much. Just set up two rings of rocks and a little marker stone in the center of each ring and say some kind words over it. You’ll get Johnny’s medallion and his knife back at some point from the police. There is that little cross as well.”
Penny looked thoughtful as she stared at the creek. “You’re thinking about me getting closure, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Doreen said, but she was also thinking of something else that just wouldn’t leave her alone. “For your own sake. Plus you don’t know how long it’ll take to sell your house,” she said. “But, if you think about it, it could be a few months or even a year. You haven’t put it on the market yet, have you?”
Penny shook her head. “I couldn’t while you were investigating,” she said starkly. “It seemed wrong to. Now that you’re done, and we know what happened …” She shook her head. “George spent most of his adult life searching for his brother, and to think he never found out, … but, in just a few days, look what you accomplished?”
“I’m really sorry about the long passage of time without answers,” Doreen said, her voice compassionate. “I think one of the hardest things for people is to never find out the truth.”
“And you did it so fast,” Penny said in amazement. “That’s what really blows me away. I only talked to you like, what, last Tuesday, Wednesday? And then, all of a sudden, it’s Sunday, and here you are with it already solved.”
Doreen didn’t know what to say. While she formulated an answer, Penny burst out, “Why couldn’t the police have done that years ago?”
“Because years ago, people stayed mum for a lot of different reasons. Things were different back then. People kept secrets, likely out of fear,” Doreen said slowly, thinking about what it had taken for the answers to come to the surface. “And I think Hornby stayed low and out of trouble, even leaving town as soon as he could. Now that so much time had passed, he thought he was safe to return to town.”
Penny said, “It makes no sense. He killed all three of those boys, for nothing.”
“Yes,” Doreen said, speaking slowly. “It also helped Hornby keep his secret when Susan couldn’t remember anything from the car accident. She was under the influence of drugs and still hungover, so it’s no wonder the cops didn’t take her seriously. Yet she’s the one who kept saying a multicolored vehicle was involved, whereas Alan said it happened so fast he couldn’t remember anything, other than a small car. Black, he thought, but he wasn’t even sure of that. Could have been dark green or dark blue. Apparently he’d been fighting with Susan.”
“And, of course, it was all make-believe anyway,” Penny whispered. “It’s just too incredible.”
“It is,” Doreen said, “but, honestly, often the truth is the simplest answer of all.”
“They had no DNA back then that led to any suspects. They had no digital anything back then,” Penny said, “like to see if Johnny showed up in another county or whatever.”
Doreen nodded. “And, of course, Alan’s father stuck up for Alan, gave him an alibi, believed his son was at home. And Mr. Hornby never saw a body in the trash truck’s compactor. Julie’s family wasn’t any better. Nobody wanted to point the finger at Alan Hornby, though nobody liked him. Even Julie had no way of knowing that an argument or picking one man over another would cause this kind of a reaction.”
“But to think it was a love triangle gone wrong,” Penny said in bewilderment. “And for all of it to stay a secret over all these years … We didn’t even know about Johnny’s relationship with Julie.”
“It may have happened twenty-nine years ago, but Mother Earth gives up her secrets eventually,” Doreen said. “Think about the dagger. Think about the medallion. Think about the cross.”
“No chance Johnny’s body could be found, is there?”
“I doubt it,” Doreen said softly but firmly. “I’m afraid that idea has to be set aside. He was placed in the old landfill. Everything there was all mulched together and reclaimed, and now a whole new subdivision has been built on top of it. I think the community of Wilden is there now.”
Penny looked at her. “All those new fancy big houses in Glenmore?”
“I think so,” Doreen said. “If not that area, another one nearby.” She watched her friend, still trying to take it all in, to make peace with it. “Come on. You’re a bit shaken up, and I need a walk anyway. Let’s get you home.”
“Are you sure?” Penny asked, but she looked grateful nonetheless. “I admit I’m feeling pretty shaky. Knowing that it’s over, that all this that haunted us—that haunted almost my entire marriage—is over. If only you had moved to Kelowna years ago,” she joked, “then George would have known what happened before he died.”
“The thing is, back then, I probably wouldn’t have been involved in these cold cases like I am now.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’m a different person from who I was even a few years ago,” Doreen said with half a smile. She called out, “Mugs, you want to go for a walk?”
Her basset hound—who’d long lost his pedigree and his good manners that her ex had tried to instill upon Mugs—appeared, jumped up, and twirled around on his back legs. She chuckled. “Now if only we could make money with a circus act,” she said. She bent down, gave him a quick hug, then pulled his leash from her back pocket to hook it on.
“You don’t normally put him on the leash, do you?” Penny asked.
“No,” she said. “Not since I moved here, but he is leash trained. I just figure, every once in a while, I should do it to keep him in the habit.”
At that, they stepped out on the creek pathway, and a streak of orange bolted toward them. Nan’s huge Maine coon cat had come with Nan’s house. He was part of Doreen’s family now. “Goliath, want to go for a walk?” As usual, the cat largely ignored her.
From the veranda at the back of her house, Doreen could hear Thaddeus calling out, “Wait for me. Wait for me.”
Doreen chuckled. “I guess Thaddeus wants to come too.” The large beautiful blue-gray parrot with long red tail feathers had also been part of Doreen’s early inheritance along with Nan’s house. What would I do without them and Nan to keep me company?
Penny seemed fascinated as Doreen squatted down, waiting for the bird to waddle to them. She stretched out her arm, and Thaddeus hopped onto the back of her hand and sidestepped all the way up to her shoulder. Once there, he brushed his beak against her cheek. She gently stroked his back. “I wouldn’t go without you, big guy.”
As if he understood, he nudged her a couple more times and then settled in. Just as she was about to take a step, he said, “Giddyup, giddyup.”
She turned to look at him and said, “No way am I following your commands.”
He twisted his head, looked at her, batted those huge eyes of his, and said, “Thaddeus go.”
“Yes,” she said in exasperation. “You can tell you’ll be going somewhere,” she said. “You’re already on my shoulder, and we’re already out of the house.”
And then he seemed to settle without more arguments. As she glanced at Penny, her new friend tried to hold back her chuckles. Doreen rolled her eyes. “It’s pretty bad when the bird treats me like some sort of old gray mare,” she snapped. “Oh, wait.” She returned to her house, reset the alarms on the front and back doors, and then rejoined her animals and Penny. “Now let’s go for a walk.”
“I heard the beeps.” Penny glanced back at the house. “Do you always set an alarm when you go for a walk? You don’t look like the nervous type to me.”
“Normally I wouldn’t. But I have an antiques dealer coming tomorrow to look at a few pieces,” she said, carefully fudging the truth. “I would hate for anybody to go inside and help themselves.”
Penny nodded. “Oh my, no. When I think of all the h
ours George and Nan spent arguing about her antiques …”
“Why arguing?” Doreen asked.
“Because George thought she should sell them, and Nan said she had another plan in mind.”
Doreen’s heart warmed when she thought about Nan’s other plan. “Yes, Nan was holding on to them for me,” Doreen said with a wistful smile. “My grandmother is pretty special.”
“Oh, she’s special all right,” Penny said, chuckling. “George used to come home from one of his visits, and, although he’d be brighter and full of laughter, he’d say Nan was especially crazy.”
“A lot of people have told me that she fell somewhere in that realm,” Doreen said. “I am afraid she’s losing some of her memory now though.”
“She’s probably not taking all those supplements George told her about. They worked like a charm for her.”
“What kind of supplements?”
Penny shrugged. “I’ll take a look. I have the notes at home somewhere. George always had a fascination with natural remedies. Nan was having trouble even back then.”
“And they helped her?”
Penny nodded emphatically. “Oh, yes. George used to comment on it all the time.”
“If you could get me that list, that would be awesome,” Doreen said. “I have absolutely no idea about supplements. And I really don’t like doctors.”
“No, once you deal with something like George’s heart condition,” Penny said, “you consider how much the medical profession actually knows. Obviously they’re helpful a lot of the time, but, on some occasions, it makes you wonder if they aren’t just pushing drugs.”
“Exactly,” Doreen said. “But if you had supplements that worked instead, that would be huge.”
“I think it’s the same list he gave me, so I can certainly find out when I get a moment,” Penny said. “Do you think Nan would take them again?”
Doreen nodded. “Particularly if I say it was the same stuff George used to give her.”
“That might work,” Penny said. “Those two really did get along like a house on fire. Nan was pretty distraught at George’s funeral.”