by H L Bur
Her gaze lingered on my death stare for a moment before answering my mom’s questioning look. “Yeah, we’re fine and she’s right, the police are handling it and Chief Kowalski has been looking out for us. He’s even sent Cady’s new detective boyfriend to check on us.”
Oh, she is dead.
My mother whirled on me again. “Detective boyfriend? Cadence, do you not tell your mother anything anymore?”
“I do not have a detective boyfriend, Mother. Quinn is just trying to push my buttons.”
Quinn held her hands up in innocence.
“I showed the new detective around town and we are semi-friendly. We are certainly not dating. Has it been five minutes? Those pork chops smell done.”
My mother stood with her hands on her hips for a moment, before conceding. “Fine, let’s eat. But you need to start telling me these things.”
“I will,” I lied.
Dinner was amazing, just as anticipated. After my second helping of cheesy potatoes, one cupcake, and one brownie with ice cream, I had to unbutton the top button of my jeans.
While we digested, we started working on a jigsaw puzzle that my mom and Kurt had going.
“I do have potato chips, M&Ms, and chocolate covered peanuts if anyone wants anything.”
“Oh, I couldn’t if I tried,” Quinn declined.
“I think I’m good.” I grimaced as I put my hand over my stomach in an effort to calm it. “For the rest of my life,” I added.
“Well if you’re sure,” my mother said, sounding only somewhat disappointed.
“Definitely. If I eat any more, I’m positive I will go into a diabetic coma on the drive home.”
“Okay dear, I just worry about you two getting enough to eat.”
My mom never moved past the mother hen stage and when you’re pushing thirty, it can be hard to deal with. “And that’s our cue to head out. Thank you for a lovely evening, Mother.”
“Well drive carefully and text me when you make it home so I know you’re safe.”
I forced myself not to roll my eyes, despite their protest.
Kurt came over and gave us each a hug goodbye and they both walked us outside.
“Beautiful evening,” my mother noted, looking up into the night sky.
It was crisp and clear and the stars were out in full force. It really was beautiful. “It sure is. You can tell the colder weather is coming, though.”
“Yup, it’ll be here before we know it,” my mother agreed.
“Thanks again, Aunt Marah! It was great to see you both.”
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Kurt. Let me know when you have the kids and I’ll come down and give you guys a break.” I gave my mom one more tight squeeze.
“Be careful or we might just take you up on that,” Kurt answered.
Quinn and I climbed into my SUV and slowly made our way back down the winding drive.
“Honk and wave, honk and wave,” Quinn reminded me.
“I know, I know!” I tooted my horn and we both waved as they stood there watching us leave.
The honk and wave tactic has been in our family for as long as I can remember. Every time somebody leaves a family gathering, you have to give two honks followed by a wave as you drive away. It is considered just plain rude if you don’t.
“Okay, time to hightail it back to Riverton and meet Beverly Mayfield. I honestly have no idea what to expect from her.” I dug into my purse and pulled out the business card that Beverly had given us earlier in the day, handing it over to Quinn.
“Me either.” Quinn buckled her seatbelt. “1323 Star Falls Court.”
“Ready or not, here we come.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ξ
We drove by the bookstore on our way down Main Street. The lights were off and it was all closed up for the night. It looked like Kyle and Sam had done a good job. At the end of Main Street, instead of making a left to go home, we turned right and drove over the small drawbridge to cross the river. Star Falls Court was on the east side of Riverton in an older neighborhood.
If we had kept going we would’ve gone by The Beacon and eventually the sawmill. Despite my persistent wondering about what was going on out there, I was thankful that tonight we would not be snooping around out in the dark. I was in no hurry for a repeat encounter with Drachen Noire or whatever his name really was. Although, without any recent appearances, it seemed like he had vanished just as quickly as he had come to town.
We turned right off the main road and followed Quinn’s map app to 1323 Star Falls Court. It was situated at the end of a cul-de-sac and had a large, park-like yard. It was a large brick house with a wrought iron fence and outdoor lighting that made it look magical. A giant oak tree stood illuminated by landscape lighting. It looked like a beacon of light at the end of the short road.
We parked along the curved street and scanned the surroundings.
“What are the chances that she’s just some crazy old lady and this is a complete waste of time?” Quinn asked.
“Eh, probably pretty good. But hey, it’s worth a shot.”
“I guess now is as good a time as any. Let’s go.”
I killed the engine and we walked up the well-lit path to the front door. For some reason, I pictured this front porch full of little trick-or-treaters in a few short weeks all dressed in their Halloween costumes. This looked like a house that would give out the full sized candy bars. I reached out and pushed the doorbell. The yip of a small dog answered our ring, followed by the click of a deadbolt unlocking. The door opened a crack, but stopped short by a safety chain. A bright green eye peered out and the door quickly shut again. The slide of the safety chain could be heard through the door and then the door was thrown open wide.
Beverly gestured us inside and shut the door, sliding the safety chain back into place, followed by the deadlock bolt. The entryway had large vaulted ceilings and the walls were a warm shade of buttercream that contrasted beautifully with the dark wooden flooring. A large rust and cream-colored area rug covered most of the floor. Beautiful oil paintings in warm colors decorated the walls. The house instantly felt cozy and inviting.
The dog was a small black and tan Yorkie Poo and she greeted us with tail wagging, jumping up onto our legs in turn.
“Birdie! Get down! Leave our guests alone.”
“Oh hi, Birdie, you cute little baby.” Quinn bent down to give her a pat.
Beverly looked just as spunky as she did earlier in the day. She was wearing black yoga pants with a matching zip-up hoodie and white tennis shoes. She had bright red lipstick on and her snow-white pixie cut was perfectly coiffed.
“Okay girls, let’s get to work!” she said, as she walked further into the house.
We assumed we were meant to follow as she led us into the kitchen, a good sign already. All good hosts hosted in the kitchen. That was common knowledge in our family. The warm tones continued into the kitchen. Burnt orange walls were lined with cream wainscoting. A large cooking island in the middle of the floor emanated the scents of pumpkin and clove from the simmering potpourri on its stovetop.
We sat around a small round dining table, which reminded me of Gigi’s old mahogany table that we used for jigsaw puzzles. She poured us each a cup of coffee and set a tray of cream and sugar on the table. I was liking her more and more every second. Birdie jumped up and curled up in Beverly’s lap.
“Beverly, your house is lovely.” I complimented her as I reached for the cream and sugar.
“Thank you, dear.” She gave a sad smile. “But we should really get down to business, we’re running out of time.”
I shot a confused look at Quinn, but she just shrugged her shoulders and sipped happily on her coffee.
“Well, that’s one thing I wanted to ask you. What exactly are we doing here?”
“I have something that I think can help in your investigation.”
“Beverly, we aren’t…”
“Now before you try to pull one over on me, don’t even
attempt to tell me you’re not investigating this. I may be old, but I’m not senile. I can still put two and two together.” She pursed her lips together in indignation.
I started to protest again, but the look on her face told me I wasn’t going to convince her otherwise. I sighed. “Okay, you’re right. We are trying to figure these two murders out. Now, what do you have that can help us?” I said, appreciating her desire to get to the point.
“Finally we’re talkin’!” Beverly fist-pumped into the air.
She slid an envelope toward us and I picked it up to open it. I pulled out a piece of notebook paper and unfolded it. It was a handwritten letter. I turned it toward Quinn so she could read it as well. It was dated two weeks earlier.
Grandma,
I will be in Riverton next week working on an article I’m writing. Actually, I’m hoping to discuss the article with you in person. I’m afraid I’ve uncovered something terrible going on in Riverton and I’m hoping you can help me organize all of my thoughts and help me with some leads I have. If I’m right about this, it could jumpstart my career as an investigative journalist. I don’t want to say too much here. Like you’ve always said, better safe than sorry!
You have always been my biggest supporter and you’re the reason I am so passionate about what I do. I’m hoping that your clever mind can bring some clarity to this puzzle for me and help to shed some light onto what is most certainly a dark situation.
I can’t wait to see you, Grandma!
Love Always,
Sofie
“Sofie? You’re Sofie’s grandmother?” I said with disbelief. “Oh Beverly, I’m so sorry for your loss.” I grabbed her hand in comfort as I started to tear up, thinking about how I was the one who had found this lovely ladies beloved granddaughter out in the woods alone, murdered.
A glisten in Beverly’s eye told me she was fighting back tears, but she quickly wiped her eyes, maintaining her perfected composure. She squeezed my hand back in appreciation and let go.
“Wow! Sofie was investigating something going on in the area. Did you ever get a chance to speak with her about it? Do you have any idea what that may have been?” Quinn redirected us back to the present task at hand.
“I don’t know for sure, but I may have an idea.” She folded her hands on top of the table, a determined look in her eyes. “Unfortunately, we never had our meeting. Sofie was supposed to meet me a week ago today, but she never showed. I contacted her parents and they hadn’t heard from her in two days. It was unlike her to miss checking in with her mother, so I knew immediately something was wrong. We reported her missing and it was just a couple days later that you discovered her body.” She nodded once in steeled determination.
“So was it last Tuesday that she was supposed to arrive in Riverton?”
“No, according to her parents, she had left Grand Rapids the Friday before.”
“And was she supposed to be coming straight up to Riverton?”
“Yes, that was what she told her mother. That should’ve only taken a few hours.”
“Where did she typically stay when she came to visit?” Quinn asked, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table.
“She would always stay with me when she visited, which is why I was so surprised when her father said she had left Grand Rapids on Friday, but hadn’t planned on meeting me until Tuesday,” Beverly replied. The only sign of Beverly’s angst was the blanching of her fingertips, giving away how tightly she was pressing her hands together.
“So she either met with somebody else first or ran into trouble before she got here,” Quinn deduced aloud.
“Beverly, you said you may have a theory as to what Sofie was working on,” I prompted.
“Yes.” She hesitated. “I didn’t put it together until I heard of the second young woman’s death.”
“Dawn?”
“Yes. Sofie was friends with Dawn and her cousin, but lately Sofie had been steering clear of them. She said they were trouble and had hinted that Dawn may have had a drug problem at one point. I had known the two girls when they were younger, and while Rose seemed nice, I always had a bad feeling about Dawn. She was rude and defiant, even as a child.”
“You knew Dawn and Rose as children? Is that how Sofie knew them?” Quinn asked.
“Yes. The funny thing is, all three of the girls were from Grand Rapids, but Sofie never met them until they were all up here one summer. Sofie used to stay with me for a few weeks out of every summer and we would do all sorts of things around town. I had always been close to the Roberson family, so one summer I brought Sofie along to one of their family gatherings. I tell you, the sawmill simply captivated Sofie. She loved climbing around it and exploring the area. She always loved history. Dan used to talk for hours about that old sawmill and he would spend hours with the kids teaching them survival tricks like how to start a fire, tie knots, that sort of thing. He was so good with those kids, but they never respected him. Sofie was more interested in his stories than his own grandchildren were. It was a shame how they all treated him.”
“How was that?” I frowned.
“They all treated him like a failure, as if it was his fault he lost the property and the mill. If you ask me, he was a hero. He risked everything to save his daughter’s life. How his sons could be so callous and uncaring, I’ll never understand. Would they rather have had their sister die of cancer?” Beverly was truly unnerved by this, the lines of anxiety and worry etched across her face.
“I can’t even imagine.” I consoled her.
“Me either. How could you turn on your father like that when what he did was honorable? If it had been one of the sons that had fallen ill I’m sure their attitude would be different,” Quinn remarked.
“I’m sure Dawn’s opinions could have been shaped by being raised by her father, but I can’t imagine Rose feeling that way about her grandfather when it was her own mother who had been the one who was sick,” I added.
“Well, like I said, Rose seemed different than Dawn. She was quiet, reserved, and above all else, respectful. But, young girls are impressionable and it is possible that Dawn eventually turned Rose on her own mother.” Beverly reached down to pet Birdie, who was fast asleep on her lap.
I took another sip of my coffee, contemplating what we’d learned so far. “So you mentioned a possible drug problem. Is that what you think Sofie’s story was about?”
“I walk the lakeshore almost every day and I’ve noticed a lot of traffic in and out of the old sawmill property lately. It’s the only thing I can think of that makes any sense. I’ve heard of organized criminals using waterways to smuggle drugs across borders before and really that would be an ideal location. It’s quiet and out of the way and the Canadian border is close. Under most circumstances, the risk of being caught would be quite low.”
Her thoughts had echoed my own.
“Beverly, can I ask why you haven’t gone to the police with any of this information?” I asked hesitantly.
“To be perfectly honest, I don’t trust the police.”
I tilted my head to the side, studying this remarkable, albeit somewhat strange woman. “Okay, I’ll give you that. Is there a particular reason why?” I pressed further.
“There’s plenty of reasons why,” she scoffed. “I was a private investigator for thirty years and in my experience the police never did a very bang up job around here.”
“Fair enough.” Quinn nodded.
I took the last sip of my coffee and Beverly rose, signaling the end of our visit.
“Beverly, may I ask why you aren’t investigating this matter on your own? You obviously have the mind and the experience for this.”
“Before my husband died, he made me promise to give it up when he was gone. Said it was too dangerous and he wouldn’t be around to protect me. He was right…it is a dangerous job.” She eyed us with a look of awareness mixed with a hint of caution. “But this was my granddaughter and I can’t sit by and do nothing while the police foul
this up.”
I nodded in understanding. “Beverly, it has truly been a pleasure and I promise you we will take everything you’ve told us here into consideration and do our best to make sense of it all.”
“If you girls need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She smiled warmly at each of us in turn. “You two remind me of myself when I was younger. I may have promised that I wouldn’t take on an investigation, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help with one.” She winked.
“Will there be a service for Sofie here in town? I would really like to attend.”
Beverly smiled gently at me. “I will let you know when.”
“Thank you.” I hesitated, but then continued. “Have you seen a man around town driving a black SUV with tinted windows, dresses in a black suit, has black hair, and always wears black sunglasses? He may go by the name Drachen Noire?”
She led us out onto her front stoop, carrying Birdie in her arms.
She paused to think. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t think of anyone by that description. I’ll keep my eyes and my ears open, though.”
“Thank you again for your help. I’m glad you came to us this morning.”
She winked at us again and smiled warmly before closing the door behind us.
We walked back to my SUV and climbed in. I started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
“Well that was interesting,” I offered.
“Mmm, to say the least,” Quinn agreed.
“We now have confirmation that Sofie, Dawn, and Rose were all acquainted, even more so than we originally thought. Dawn may or may not have had a drug problem at some point…my guess would be in favor of that. And, Dawn and company may or may not be/have been running a drug smuggling operation out of the sawmill.”
“Yup! And, Sofie was on to whatever it was and by the sounds of it was about to let the story break, which would be an awfully good motive for wanting her dead,” Quinn added.
“Okay, so what’s our next move?”
