The Legacy (Tipperary Carriage Company Mystery Book 5)

by J A Whiting

  A minister spoke for a few minutes. Then all stood quietly, listening as Taps was played.

  There was no bugler. When the family had called, Mae had been sure to ask about anything out of the ordinary that might happen, especially anything loud. She had been surprised to learn that there were not too many military buglers available who could play Taps, and so it was considered perfectly appropriate to use a clear recording.

  At least the horse hardly noticed.

  But then came the most moving part of the ritual that anyone could experience at any graveside service, the folding and presentation of the American flag that had covered the casket. The flag was given to the young boy who had ridden in the carriage with the rest of the family, almost certainly a great-grandchild.

  Last of all, each member of the family placed their small bouquet of one white and two yellow roses atop the coffin before walking away. Then the family again got into the carriage and the cars, and Fireball followed the now-empty hearse to take the family back to the white-columned building.

  Once there, the family got out and everyone began walking to the cars to head wherever the reception was to be held. As Mae was preparing to turn Fireball around and take him back to the trailer, a very elderly gentleman with a younger man at his side, probably a son, walked to the front of the carriage and shook hands with Brandon as he stood with the horse. The two men continued to the left side where Mae sat, and they reached up to shake hands with her, before going back to the cars.

  No one had said a word. And yet they had said everything. With a deep breath, feeling both heartbroken and immeasurably proud at the moving, respectful, and very loving ceremony she had just witnessed, Mae sent Fireball on his way so that she and Brandon and her beautiful black horse could also go back home.

  16

  Later that afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set, Mae finished changing into some lightweight jeans, a pink silk sweater, and a pair of dressy sandals, something she wore only rarely nowadays, and left her comfortable small condo to go out to her dark green truck.

  She smiled to herself, as she always did, at the sight of the white letters that spelled out Tipperary Carriage Company in a half-circle on both doors.

  No harm in doing a little rolling advertising.

  It wasn't too far to the steakhouse. As soon as she walked in and told the host she was sitting with her son, the man nodded and led her straight to Brandon's table. He sat at a large booth with a candle already burning on the table, and sitting beside him was Chloe.

  "I'm so very glad to see you."

  Sitting beside Brandon, was the very pretty, very curvy young blond woman with a brilliant smile.

  "And I'm so glad to see you again, too," said Chloe. "Brandon told me all about the funeral this morning. It sounds like it was quite an event."

  "Oh, it was," said Mae, sitting across from the two of them on the long seat of the booth. "We…."

  "Oh, hey, Mom," said Brandon, with a hint of sarcasm. "Glad you could make it."

  Mae laughed. "Sorry about that, kid. But I didn't expect to see Chloe with you today. Now, ah, how did this come about?"

  “I told her last night that you'd take me to my favorite expensive steakhouse if I helped you at a driving job this morning. I didn't think you'd mind."

  Mae smiled. "Of course not. We have a lot to catch up on."

  "But first, Mom, you'd better check the menu and decide what you want."

  "Oh, yes. Half the time, I forget."

  All three of them studied the menus and drank their iced tea and hot coffee and cold soda, and just enjoyed a very pleasant get-together.

  Mae noticed that, like so many restaurants these days, there were television sets mounted on the walls. At the moment, at the dinner hour, the local news was on. There was no sound, but the on-screen captions were easy to read… and Mae realized that she was seeing a story about Col. Greene.

  …the well-known, long-time Franklin County resident was to be buried with full military honors…

  …word has reached our news bureau that the ceremony has been abruptly called off…

  …sources say that new information has come to light about wrongdoing under battlefield conditions…

  …the family refuses to comment except for angrily slamming the door in this reporter's face…

  …inquiry is underway…

  …possible loss of military honors…

  "Hey, Mom?"

  Mae blinked, but did not turn away from looking at the screen.

  "Look," she whispered.

  Both Brandon and Chloe looked up at the television just in time to see Col. Greene and his wife riding in Mae's white carriage in the St. Patrick's Day Parade.

  Brandon looked at his mother. "You were supposed to drive at his funeral today, right? But they called it off so we did that other one today instead?"

  "That's right. I wanted very much to do that for them. But then it was suddenly called off and now… now this?"

  Chloe shrugged and reached for her iced tea. "Crystal Walsh is one of the toughest reporters in Columbus," she said. "This is just her kind of story."

  "Crystal Walsh?" Mae looked back at the television, but there was a commercial on now. "Was that her story? That was her, talking about the colonel?"

  "Yes," said Chloe. "She was only on-screen for a second, which is kind of unusual for her. Most of the time she wants to get as much camera time as possible. Let me tell you, when she came out to one of our sorority events…. "

  "Wait. Do you know her?"

  "I've met her. I wouldn't say we're friends or anything, but she loves to cover our sorority events because she's an Alpha Gam, too, from about ten years ago."

  Mae remembered driving at a fund-raising event for the Alpha Gamma Delta sorority several months before. "She really seems to have it in for Col. Greene, and not just him, but his whole family. I'm shocked, but not surprised, that she seems to be running a big campaign to discredit his memory."

  Brandon just shook his head, and then sat back as all three of the dinner salads were served.

  "Well, even if she is, Mom," he said, "the guy is dead. He can't be hurt by anything she says. It doesn't matter now."

  Chloe seemed to be nodding in agreement with him.

  Mae had just picked up her salad fork, but then slowly set it down again. "Brandon," she said quietly. "Have you forgotten what we saw out there at the cemetery this morning?"

  He shrugged and looked down at his own salad. "Yeah, it was nice. It was fine. I guess the family thought it was important. But what does a funeral have to do with how a person will be remembered?"

  "Well, the funeral itself is only a small part of someone's life. That's true. It's not the funeral itself. It's what it represents: the final honor and remembrance of that life. It's usually considered the height of disrespect to withhold that from a person. Can you imagine that family not giving their mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother the final show of love and respect we saw today?"

  "No, I guess not. It would have seemed pretty strange."

  "And it would become part of the family history that this person was refused any remembrance and respect when they died. It's never good to be an outcast, even after you've passed away."

  Chloe looked up at that. At first she seemed puzzled, but then understanding dawned. "And even after that person is gone, their disgrace would still linger for their descendants, their children, or grandchildren. I guess the point is– it isn't just the person who's died. The death of a legacy can affect a lot of others, too, who are still here."

  Mae smiled. "I think that's exactly right, Chloe. The confusion, the sense of rejection, and the open disrespect shown to their relative would always stay with the descendants. One way or another, it would affect them all through their lives."

  Chloe beamed at Mae, and then at Brandon, and at that bright smile, his expression softened.

  "Yeah, it was nice. I guess I'd hate to think that nobody would remember me after
I'm gone. Or even worse, didn't want to remember me. Is that what you mean, Mom?"

  Mae nodded. "It sure is. Today's ceremony was something they will all remember with pride for the rest of their lives. It certainly bonded them together and gave them comfort today.

  "But imagine if suddenly they were told they couldn't honor their relative at all. That they should forget about her and everything they'd ever known about her. That's what a legacy is," Mae went on. "I used to think it was the only thing that could never be taken away from us… but now that I've seen what's happened to Col. Greene, I know that that's not true.

  "It's not just for show," she said, picking up a menu. "Something of great value has been taken from the Greene family. And the question is why."

  Mae turned to the menu and tried to decide what to order, hoping that would take her mind off the question, but she already knew that this was something that would stay with her for a very long time.

  17

  Before long, Mae and Brandon and Chloe were enjoying a fantastic dinner of sirloin steak, prime rib, and filet mignon, topped off with loaded baked potatoes buried under mounds of fresh butter and sour cream.

  "This looks so, so good," said Mae, reaching for her knife and fork.

  "And smells even better," said Chloe. She glanced at Brandon, but he was already too busy eating to add anything to the conversation.

  Even the best steaks in Franklin County couldn't take Mae's mind entirely off of the mystery of why someone was trying to destroy the reputation of the Greene family. She gazed down at her plate, lost in thought.

  It just doesn't add up. There must be something that I'm missing, something that would at least explain this, even if it can't change anything for the family.

  "Mom? Did they bring you the right order?"

  She glanced up quickly, and then smiled at Brandon. "Yes, yes. And it's perfectly cooked. My mind was miles away."

  "You're thinking about that colonel and his funeral again," Brandon said, shaking his head.

  She sighed and went back to working on her sirloin. "I guess you're right. You know how it is. Something strange happens and I always want to figure it out."

  "Like Grandpa James."

  "Yes, like Grandpa James. Great-grandpa to you, but just the same. He was a detective with the Boston police force, over a hundred years ago. I remember hearing some of his stories about that when I was very young. I guess that's where I get it."

  "The bug to solve mysteries, you mean," said Chloe.

  Mae nodded. "I think so. This carriage company seems to be the perfect blend of horses and strange occurrences, even though that's not at all what I expected."

  "Do you really think you could find out who's trying to destroy the Greene family?" asked Chloe. "They’re pretty well known around here. Everybody's heard of them."

  "Which means anyone could have had a grudge against them for any reason at any time," mumbled Brandon, around a mouthful of prime rib. "The possibilities are endless."

  "I know. You're right," said Mae with a sigh.

  "Well," said Chloe, as she reached for the salt shaker for her filet mignon, "I don't know much about how to solve a mystery. But I do know that if anyone can hold a grudge, it's Crystal Walsh."

  "I'm prepared to believe that," said Mae. "It was clear enough that she had it in for the Greenes when she tried to talk to them after the downtown parade."

  Brandon shrugged and handed the salt shaker to Chloe. "Reporters do that kind of thing all the time, Mom. They want to get some juicy comments for the viewers, so they deliberately provoke people."

  "Sure they do," said Mae. "But this was different. This seemed, well, this seemed personal."

  "Even if it was," said Brandon, "it's between them, isn't it?"

  Mae glanced at him, but then looked away and nodded. "I guess you've got me there. I don't really even know them."

  With that, all of them went back to the serious work of devouring their dinners. Before long, Mae sighed and placed her knife and fork across the plate, defeated at last by all the delicious food.

  While Brandon and Chloe went on eating, Mae glanced up at the television screen again. It was showing a basketball game.

  There isn't much I'd be less interested in than a pro basketball game, but that's all right. It's been wonderful sitting here with these two, as well as taking my time to eat a huge plate of great food… so much of the time I just end up grabbing something on the way to the barn or on the way home from it… and… what is that?

  The basketball game had gone to a commercial break. One of the "commercials" was actually a promo for the local news. And the person smiling brightly into the camera was none other than Crystal Walsh.

  "Chloe," Mae said quickly. "Look at this."

  "Hey, that's her again," said Chloe, leaning forward to look past Brandon. "Like I said, she can't get enough camera time."

  "–and all this week, we'll be spotlighting local small businesses run by women. If you've got one, call this number and leave a message for me. You just might be on our evening broadcast in a special story all about you and the company you run."

  Mae and Chloe looked at each other. Brandon saw them and pretended to roll his eyes, but he was smiling, too.

  "I guess more free publicity never hurts, Mom," he said, and took the last bite of his baked potato.

  Chloe was already getting out her phone. "I'm on it, Mae. You'd be perfect for her story." She got through quickly and left a message about Tipperary Carriage Company, and then hung up. "There. Her voicemail said she'll probably get back to you in a day or two. And yeah, Brandon's right. It would be fantastic advertising for you."

  "Even though it's not for the advertising," said Brandon, and helped himself to another piece of baked potato from Chloe's plate.

  Mae and Chloe glanced at each other, knowing that what he'd said was true.

  "I guess I have to try," said Mae. "I'd love to think it's not too late for the Greenes to have the honors they deserve, just like the family we saw today. Even if I really don't know what I could actually do about it."

  "I know what to do right now," said Brandon, and after finally setting down his fork he reached for the dessert menu.

  A short time later, Mae sat back with a fresh cup of coffee while Brandon and Chloe shared a huge piece of chocolate cake drizzled with hot chocolate sauce and topped with whipped cream.

  "Try it, Mom," said Brandon. "It's awesome."

  "I don't know where you find the room," said Mae, laughing. "It looks wonderful, but there's no way right now."

  "Okay, but it won't last long," he said.

  "We'll all come back again some night, Mae, just for dessert," said Chloe. "Then you can have all the cake you want."

  "Sounds perfect," she said, and took another long drink of the coffee. Then, to her surprise, Chloe's phone rang.

  "Hey, Crystal," said Chloe, looking up at Mae. "Yeah, I did call. Listen, I've got the perfect story subject for you."

  Chloe talked to Crystal for a few minutes, listening in silence for a lot of the conversation. "Mae, she wants to know when your next driving engagement is."

  "Tomorrow morning at ten," said Mae, quickly getting out her own phone. "It's at an office complex out in Hilliard. I've got the address right here."

  Chloe repeated the information to Crystal and smiled at Mae. "Thanks, Crystal. She'll be there tomorrow at ten a.m. sharp."

  "So she wants to do the story tomorrow morning?" said Mae, feeling a little startled.

  "Yes," Chloe answered, setting down her phone. "She'll be there with a camera crew to film you hard at work. She really does want to talk to you."

  "No kidding," said Mae, reaching for her coffee cup again. "I'll just bet she does."

  But not half as much as I want to talk to her.

  At 9am the next morning, Mae drove out to the office complex with Copper and the white Landau in the trailer behind her, enjoying the thought of another driving engagement that would not only pay t
he bills, but give a number of people a chance to see a really gorgeous horse up close. The day was cool and fresh with spring, and there was a little mist here and there in the low grassy areas alongside the road.

  This was another St. Patrick's Day event, even if it was some ten days late, but she didn't mind. Mae had recently discovered how many workplaces just loved bringing out a horse-drawn carriage as part of a reward celebration for their employees whenever they made some goal or other, treating the day like a mini-festival with lots of food and games.

  I thought the carriage business would be mostly weddings and proms. Didn't realize how much of it would be somber funerals one day and employees playing hooky the next.

  She found the place easily enough and was greeted by a small group of enthusiastic employees who showed her where to park. It was always fun hearing the reactions when she backed the enormous, red-gold Copper out of the trailer and let him look around. The horse had green-and-white ribbons braided into his cream-colored mane, and the white Landau had been decorated with the last of the green paper shamrocks and gold-foil stars and bells.

  "Wow, he's huge."

  "And so pretty."

  "Look at the ribbons. That's beautiful."

  Before long, Copper was harnessed and hooked up and ready to go.

  "You do all this by yourself, Mrs. Monahan?" one of the women asked.

  "Sometimes," she said, doing a last check of the harness and bridle. "Depending on the event, I take an assistant, if I can get one. But this was close by and doesn't involve traffic, so it's just me today."

  "That's a lot of work to handle this great big horse and that carriage," marveled the woman. "And you're no bigger than a minute."

  Mae laughed, and then stepped up onto the hub of the front wheel and into the driver's box.

  "Well, the horse is well trained and you could say the carriage is, too. We have a routine for unloading, harnessing, unharnessing, and loading, and it all works well. With horses, it's all about leadership, not strength."