by Reagan Davis
And now we know the real reason she showed up early.
Connie saves me by interrupting Mrs. Pearson to tell her about Laura’s arrangements.
“So, Megan... Do you have any plans to see Craig again?” It seems Mrs. Pearson isn’t easily distracted. “He says you’re both trying to make something work with your schedules.”
“Hopefully.” I sigh. “We’ve both just been really busy. When he’s free I’m not, when I’m free, he’s not. You know how it is.”
“Well, you’ll see him at the fundraiser on Saturday for sure, he’s attending as my plus one,” she says.
“Mr. Pearson won’t be your plus one?” I ask.
“No. I’m afraid not. He’s going to Toronto for the weekend. He’s meeting his brother. They have Leafs tickets,” she explains and turns to Connie. “They bought them months ago, before we set the date for the reunion-fundraiser.”
She asks who I’m going with, and I tell her that Phillip and Glenda offered to take me, or I might take Sophie. Then I tell her my knitted corgi dress idea.
Like Connie, she’s not sure if I’m joking, and honestly, at this point, I’m not sure either. Maybe instead of a crazy cat lady, I’ll be a crazy corgi lady, and Sophie is the first in what will become my pack of corgis.
Sophie comes over to me when she hears her name, and I bend down to pet her and look into her pretty brown eyes.
While looking in her eyes, it comes to me…
I pull Laura’s laptop from my tote bag and take it to the harvest table. I open it and tickle the track pad until it springs to life. When the pop-up window appears asking for the password, I type in: Sophie.
The little circle icon spins. This is further than I’ve gotten with my other attempts. After a few seconds that feel like minutes, I’m in!
I find the email icon. Crossing my fingers that it’s not also password protected, or if it is, that Laura was a one-password-for-all kind of person, I double click on it. The circle spins…and I’m in!
Laura’s inbox is full. She’s on a lot of mailing lists, mostly animal and knitting related.
I scroll down the first page with my focus on the Sender field. About halfway down, I see an email from Let Me Take A Cellfie with the subject line, And The Results Are...
I take a deep breath. Even though I know no one is nearby, I look around to make sure someone isn’t looking over my shoulder. I click on the email.
The email contains a link to a pdf, so I click the link.
The pdf is a table of values. The name of the value is in the first column, Donor A’s values are in the second column, and Donor B’s values are in the third column. There’s a fourth column showing the percentage of values the donors have in common.
I’m not science-y enough to interpret this data without doing some research first.
I scroll to the bottom of the long table and find a heading that says, Interpreting Your Results. According to this section, Laura’s results aren’t from a maternity test, they’re the results of a siblingship test.
Laura tested her DNA against someone who might be her sibling.
Reading further, the scientists at Let Me Take A Cellfie conclude there is a high probability that Laura and the other donor are half-siblings with a common father.
Whoa.
I email the pdf to myself in case I can’t get back into Laura’s email. Then, I power off the laptop, close it, and put it back in my bag under the counter.
I text Adam and ask if he has time to see me today. I tell him I can visit him at his office. He says sure and tells me to come by any time this afternoon.
The rest of the charity knitters are starting to show up. I take Connie aside and ask her if she’ll be OK for an hour while I run an errand.
“Of course, my dear! You run along.”
After Sophie and I go for our mid-day jaunt to the park, I get in my car and head to 845 Mountain Road, Adam’s office.
I usually park on the road in front of the large, renovated Victorian-era house, but Eric’s car is parked there. Interesting.
I park in the driveway, walk up to the wrap-around porch, enter the house, and greet Lin, the receptionist, who works for all the tenants, including Adam.
Four professionals have office space here: Adam, an accountant, an insurance broker, and a family therapist. From behind her large, ornately carved, wooden desk, Lin helps keep all of them organized and makes their clients feel welcome and comfortable.
I tell her Adam is expecting me, and she lets him know I’m here. While I wait, Lin offers me something to eat or drink, which I decline, and she and I talk about the holiday that just passed. I ask her how Ryan is doing since I haven’t seen him lately, and we make small talk about what she’s wearing to the reunion-fundraiser this weekend. When she has to answer a phone call, I take a seat on the leather sofa in the waiting area and peruse an insurance brochure I find on the coffee table.
Adam comes down the stairs, holding the ornately carved, wooden hand rail, with Eric behind him. At the bottom of the stairs, they shake hands, Eric thanks Adam for his time, and they say goodbye.
Adam gestures for me to follow him upstairs. As I pass Eric I say, “You should come with us, you might want to hear this.”
In Adam’s office, I can’t help but smile at the many photos of Hannah he has on his desk and cabinets. Including the most recent addition, a selfie of the three of us that we took on Christmas morning. We’re wearing matching Christmas pyjamas and Santa hats and sitting under the Christmas tree at my house. It’s a great photo of the three of us.
“I know, right?!” Adam says, when he notices me admiring the photo. “I had to frame it. It’s a great photo of all of us, and Hannah looks so happy.”
“If you still have it on your phone can you text it to me?” I ask. “The one I took with my phone isn’t very good. Your eyes are closed, and Hannah and I are blurry.”
“Yeah, of course, hang on.”
He picks up his phone and scrolls through his photos, then my phone dings.
“Thanks,” I say. “Listen, do you want me to come to you on Sunday since you came to me last week after I slipped on the ice?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugs. “I’m thinking of making frittatas. I’ve never made them, but I’ve been looking at recipes online, and it looks like something I can make. What do you think?”
“Ahem.” Eric clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” I say, smiling at him. “I’m easily distracted by photos of my daughter.”
I sit up straight and direct my focus on Adam.
“Adam, do you remember when you were babysitting me last week, and I asked you HYPOTHETICALLY if a HYPOTHETICAL client could amend their will to include a secret child?”
“I do.” He nods.
“And you said HYPOTHETICALLY a client could amend a will for any secret HYPOTHETICAL relative.”
I realize now, that Adam was trying to tell me the secret relative isn’t a child.
“That’s right.” He nods again.
“Why do you keep saying HYPOTHETICAL like that?” Eric asks.
I put up my right index finger to defer his question.
“Well, HYPOTHETICALLY might a HYPOTHETICAL client have amended her will to include a HYPOTHETICAL half-sibling?” I ask, smirking smugly.
“You clever girl,” Adam says proudly. “Well done.”
“Thank you,” I say, pleased with myself as we high-five each other across his desk.
“I’m not feeling very clever,” Eric chimes in. “I’m feeling a bit lost.”
I tell them about the packaging from the DNA kit in Laura’s trash can, and how Glenda gave me Laura’s computer. I explain that I figured out the password and found the DNA results in her email. She has a half-sibling on her father’s side.
I tell them that I don’t know who the other DNA donor is. The email from Let Me Take A Cellfie didn’t include any email addresses other than Laura’s.
“What?” Eric asks, with a look of sh
ock on his face.
“I need that computer, Megan. You should’ve given it to me in the first place.”
“The police had Laura’s house for four days, Eric. They could’ve taken the computer then. Or found the DNA wrapper in her garbage. It’s not like I had access to evidence you couldn’t have acquired yourself.”
On Monday, he says he’s grateful when I find out information; now he’s angry at me for finding out information. I can’t win.
I look at Adam and take a deep breath.
“OK, so Laura changed her will before she got the DNA results back, so she must have felt pretty confident that this person was her half-sibling. I guess there’s no way of knowing whether the half-sibling knows they’ve been included in the will? Or whether the other beneficiaries know that the will has been changed and their inheritance might have become smaller?”
“HYPOTHETICALLY,” Adam says emphatically, “if a client amends their will to include a new beneficiary, the amount the existing beneficiaries would receive would have to be reduced. Everybody’s share of the pie gets a little bit smaller if you divide the pie among more people. Also, the HYPOTHETICAL client isn’t obligated to inform beneficiaries that they’ve been included in the will, or to inform their attorney whether the beneficiaries are aware of their status as beneficiaries.”
Adam and I have been playing the HYPOTHETICAL game for a long time. I’m pretty sure he is saying the existing beneficiaries will lose some of their inheritance now that the newfound half-sibling has been added to the will. He doesn’t know if the newfound half-sibling knows they’ve been made a beneficiary in Laura’s will.
So, Glenda’s inheritance was likely reduced when her new half-sibling was added to Laura’s will. Could this make her angry enough to kill her sister? She already has a weak alibi and lied about it. Or maybe she killed Laura to stop her from amending the will, on the assumption that Laura’s hospital stay delayed her signing the final document.
But, if Glenda knew about the half-sibling, why would she suggest that I take Laura’s laptop and try to break into her email for the DNA results? Wouldn’t she want the half-sibling to remain a secret to prevent them from claiming any of Laura’s estate?
Laura changed her will before she received the results to ensure that if something went wrong during her surgery, both of her siblings would be acknowledged.
Whomever the secret half-sibling is, their new status as beneficiary is a strong motive to murder Laura.
I know Adam can’t tell me who the half-sibling is, or even whether Laura and Glenda have a half-sister or a half-brother, and I won’t put him in an uncomfortable position by asking him.
“HYPOTHETICALLY, when will the beneficiaries find out the details of the HYPOTHETICAL will?” I ask him.
“HYPOTHETICALLY, I would expect all beneficiaries to receive a registered letter this week,” he replies.
Eric and I are walking to our cars. I press the button on my keychain to unlock my car, then reach for the handle to open the door. I turn to Eric to say goodbye, and as I open my mouth, he starts talking.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted about the laptop and the DNA packaging,” he blurts out. “You’re right, we should’ve found it first. This is only Harmony Lake PD’s third murder. Ever. The department is still learning and making mistakes. It frustrates me, but that isn’t your problem or your fault. I’m grateful you told me what you found out. But I’ll still need that laptop.”
I nod.
“You and Adam see each other every Sunday?” Eric asks.
“Yup. We have breakfast together and FaceTime with Hannah. We alternate homes, but he always cooks.”
“You two are the friendliest exes I know,” he says. “You think you might get back together?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “We get along so well BECAUSE we’re not together. But we’re still family.” I use the same emphasis on BECAUSE as I did for HYPOTHETICAL.
“What’s that about, this HYPOTHETICAL thing?” he asks, emphasizing the word HYPOTHETICAL.
I explain how we learned to speak in the hypothetical and use subtext to talk about Adam’s cases and clients.
“This new sibling doesn’t help eliminate Glenda as a suspect, does it?”
“HYPOTHETICALLY, no,” he replies.
Chapter 18
Thursday January 16th
Five minutes before it’s time to open the store, Sophie jumps down from the front window display, where she was watching the world go by. She trots eagerly toward the back room with her tongue out and her tail wagging. I hear the back door to the parking lot close, then I hear Eric greet her and tell her he’s happy to see her.
“Good morning,” he says as he puts a Latte Da to go cup on the counter in front of me. “I’m here to pick up Laura’s laptop. We’ve already retrieved the DNA package from her house.”
I hand him the laptop and cord.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I say. “Again.”
This is becoming a habit I could get used to.
“So, what are you up to today?” I ask him.
“Trying to catch a killer.” He shrugs. “You know, the usual.”
“Well, good luck with that,” I say.
“The alumni association gets access to the high school gym today,” he says, “to start setting up for the event on Saturday night. I’ll probably stop by to say hi, talk to some people, and see if anyone is talking about what happened to Laura.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” I say.
“Maybe you’d like to come with me?” he asks.
I detect hesitation in his voice.
“As a community liaison?” I ask. “To encourage people to talk to you?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” he replies. “The people in Harmony Lake trust you. Your insight is helpful, and you notice things I don’t. You know what’s normal for the people around here and what isn’t.”
“Why not,” I say. “What time?”
We agree to go to the high school together after I drop Sophie off at home and feed her.
I unlock the door and turn the sign from CLOSED to OPEN. Connie should be here any minute, but she’s only working until lunchtime, then she’s leaving to focus on the reunion-fundraiser and won’t be back at work until Tuesday.
A customer comes in with a layette pattern for her niece’s soon-to-be-born baby, and I help her find the right yarn for her project.
We’re looking at the sport weight yarn and comparing shades of blue, and Eric is still here, loitering awkwardly. I excuse myself from my customer, go over to him and quietly ask him if he’s waiting to talk to me.
“Are you going to the reunion-fundraiser on Saturday?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I reply, shrugging my left shoulder. “I haven’t decided for sure.”
“If you go, who are you going with?” he asks.
I shrug again and tell him that Phillip and Glenda have offered to take me with them, Adam offered to drive me, and Sophie is an option. The event benefits Laura’s organization, and includes a memorial to her, so it seems appropriate for Sophie, Laura’s canine companion, to be there, I explain to him. I joke that she’d have to find something decent to wear.
My customer calls me over, so I leave Eric to help her. She decides on a yarn, and we go to the counter so I can cash her out. We realize she’ll need buttons for the sweater, so I show her the wall of buttons, and she chooses cute wooden ones shaped like trains. I cash her out and wish her a good day, then look at Eric who’s still here.
“Maybe we could go to the reunion-fundraiser together?” he asks.
“Listen”—I sit down on one of the sofas in the cozy sitting area—“I’m happy to help you any way I can. I want Laura’s murder solved, too, but you don’t have to feed me dinner, keep me in daily coffee, or escort me to an event to get my help. I always keep my eyes and ears open and pass on whatever I see or hear.”
He nods.
“Anyway, don’t you already have a date? I hea
rd you tell Amy when she asked you.”
“I told her that because I don’t want to go with her,” he explains. “I want to go with you.”
Really?
“Oh,” I say.
Before we can continue our conversation, the bell over the door jingles, and Glenda comes in, clutching an envelope in her hand, followed by Phillip, who has a concerned look on his face.
“The other beneficiary is Brian Sweeney,” Glenda announces.
Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is open.
Phillip takes her by the arm, guides her to a sofa, and sits her down. I’m about to tell her that the DNA test Laura took was a siblingship test, when she starts speaking.
“I think I’ve figured out a few things,” Glenda says, staring at the empty coffee table while she speaks. “That day in the doctor’s office when I was eight, my mother must have seen a note in Brian’s file about his true paternity.”
She stops talking and I get her a glass of water from the kitchenette. When I return, she’s still staring blankly at the coffee table, so I put the glass of water on the table in her line of vision and tell her it’s there.
She nods.
I notice she’s not blinking often.
“Then Megan and I found those love letters from Brian to Laura,” Glenda starts speaking again. “My mother must have found them and realized Laura and Brian were having a relationship—but they’re siblings—and she had to make them stop talking and seeing each other. We all stopped talking and seeing each other.”
We all sit together in silence for a few moments. Glenda has a sip of water.
“Glenda, I think you’re in shock,” Phillip says softly. “Noah can handle the store today. I’m taking you home.”
I tell Phillip that Connie will be here any minute, so I’ll be available to help Noah if he needs anything, and we’ll be sure to give him a lunch break before Connie leaves. They leave, walking slowly with Phillip guiding Glenda by the arm.
“Wow,” I say to Eric after Phillip and Glenda leave.
