The Corpse at the End of the Chapter

by Karen Hayes

  “Then I’m glad I didn’t tell you. Because I’m glad you did continue to date me. And I’m glad you married me. I’m very lucky to have you for my wife.” He reached over and took her hand, and Louise blinked back a tear.

  “And what about Ruby’s baby?” she asked. “What happened there?”

  “I did not follow-up on the baby. I seriously doubted it was mine. I guess she had it in prison and put it up for adoption. And I didn’t think any more about that child until this morning.”

  “You said ‘doubted’ in the past tense. Does that mean you no longer have doubts?”

  “No doubts. I have a daughter.”

  Louise had eaten some of her sole while Brandon was talking, but didn’t have much appetite. She felt bad for what Brandon had been through, and for having a daughter all those years ago that he hadn’t known about.

  Mark came by to clear their plates and Louise apologized for the uneaten food. “Maybe we’ll just have a little dessert,” she suggested, and Brandon nodded. Louise asked for Crème Brûlée and Brandon ordered marionberry ice cream.

  “The marionberries may be local, but the ice cream is very French,” Mark assured them.

  Over their desserts, Brandon described for his wife the pictures of Cindy Doyle that Ruby kept on her mantle. “I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before,” Brandon said. “The resemblance is actually quite startling. And even though the pictures Ruby had of Cindy as a child were a little blurred, she looks a lot like my mother did when she was little. The sheriff said if I wanted, he would do a DNA test, but I see no need to disturb Cindy’s life. Unless it’s necessary that it come out when the murderer is caught and there’s a trial, I’d just as soon leave well enough alone. Cindy has parents–the couple who raised her.”

  Brandon looked up and noticed that Louise was crying. Her attempt to stay the tears had not been successful. At his question-ing look, she said, “All the years we tried to have a child and couldn’t, and you already had one—with another woman.”

  “Louise...”

  “I’m not blaming you, Brandon, for any of it. After all, it did happen before we were seriously dating. I just wish...” She shook her head, reaching into her handbag for a tissue to wipe her eyes. “I wanted a daughter so badly. In fact, I would have welcomed several children. So maybe I will think of Cindy as that daughter I couldn’t have. Even if she never knows who her real parents are. And maybe...maybe when Cindy gets married and has a child of her own, we could do something for that child, anonymously, of course. Just to make amends. I kind of feel sorry for Ruby.”

  “So do I, after what I learned this morning. Thank you, Louise, for understanding.”

  “What’s there to understand? It was a long time ago. Now we’d better pay the check and get out of here before I start telling you about my abortion.”

  “Your what?!”

  Louise grinned. “Not now, Brandon. Not now.”

  TEN

  SHERIFF HARVE BLODGETT CALLED LOUISE LAFFERTY Tuesday morning and asked her if she could come by his office, explaining he was questioning everyone who had attended the grand opening at the Book Nook Friday. She was the only person he had not spoken with yet. Louise agreed and was in Harve’s office by ten o’clock. Harve was alone in the office as Toby had begged for the day off to go into Portland to the dentist. He had a really bothersome toothache and the only dentist in the county was old Dr. Freeman, and he was eighty-nine years old. No way was Toby going to let that old man put his fingers in his mouth. Portland was only a couple of hours away and Vivian said she’d drive him. There was a dentist there Toby liked who was only in his forties.

  Louise Lafferty was a nice-looking woman, fairly tall with short brown hair and smiling hazel eyes. She would not be considered a beauty, but she was attractive, elegant even. She had put on a few pounds since her college days, but would still not be considered over- weight —approaching pleasantly plump maybe, but, like most women in their mid-forties, she was the only one who thought she should be dieting.

  “Brandon told me about Ruby,” Louise said, “and about... Cindy. He said you think there might be a connection between Agatha’s death and Ruby’s.”

  “Right now I’m looking at all possibilities, Mrs. Lafferty,” Harve said. “I’ve never had to investigate a murder before, and now to have two in a row—it’s a bit overwhelming. I don’t know the killings are related, but, well, it just seems like too much of a coincidence for them not to be. Agatha was Brandon’s mother and Ruby was the mother of his child.”

  “You don’t think Cindy was the killer?”

  “No. Cindy was in Pleasant View when your mother-in-law was killed. She came with Ryan to pick up the body. And she was in Portland when Ruby died. Went there Saturday morning. Her father—adopted father, that is—had a heart attack. She’s still there. What I want from you is your observation of what happened while you were at the bookstore Friday. Did you notice anyone acting suspiciously? Did anything seem not quite right? And can you think of anyone who might have wanted to kill Agatha.”

  “Sheriff, I’m as aware as anyone that my mother-in-law was not the favorite person of a great many people in this community. She’d gotten rather cantankerous in her old age. But I cannot think of a single soul who would have disliked her enough to kill her. Especially if you’re thinking that her death and Ruby’s might have had something to do with the child Ruby had. I mean, who knew about that? Brandon said he didn’t even know until you told him yesterday. Unless...” She paused, then shook her head.

  “Unless what, Mrs. Lafferty?”

  Louise sighed, then bit her lip. “Unless Brandon is lying and he knew about it all along.”

  “Do you think that’s the case?”

  “I don’t know. Sheriff, Brandon and I have been married for more than twenty years. I have thought that it was a good marriage. I have been sure, most of the time, that he loved me.”

  “Most of the time?” the sheriff asked.

  “There have been rumors from time to time... Look, Sheriff, I know Brandon was a bit of a scoundrel in high school where girls were concerned. And I’m sure he was the same in college. I was not terribly surprised when he told me about Ruby. I’d, well, I’d heard stuff before about her, about how she used to have a thing for Brandon and maybe she still did, that sort of gossip. And through the years, I’d always hear things about him having affairs with his receptionist or his nurse, or one of his patients, or whom-ever people wanted to talk about at the time. Currently, it’s Wendy Barnes he’s supposedly sleeping with. But I’ve never really listened to all that, as he’s always come home to me at night. But maybe I should be listening to it.”

  “No, I think you can probably discard most of that gossip,” the sheriff said. “Especially about Wendy. She and Ryan Lowe are practically engaged, you know.”

  “I know. She showed me a picture of the ring Ryan is saving up for to get her for Christmas. They’re hoping to get married next summer. Brandon has promised Ryan that if he can get a scholar- ship, he’ll help him with other of his medical school expenses.”

  “That’s mighty nice of Dr. Lafferty.”

  “He’s a good-hearted man. Sheriff, you don’t suspect Brandon, do you? Of killing his own mother?”

  Sheriff Blodgett leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “You know, Mrs. Lafferty, it’s like I told the Parker boy, at this stage of the game, everyone in this town is a suspect. However, although your husband was at the Book Nook Friday morning, he was long gone before his mother even came in. Went fishing with Conrad Affleck up to the Pond, I understand. They’d heard some-where that fish really bite in rainy weather. Although I also heard that neither one of them caught a thing.”

  Louise smiled. She knew the story. Brandon and Connie Affleck always liked to go fishing in the rain, did it often, but had never yet come home with a single fish. All they ever did was drink beer and get wet. And she remembered it had been that way Friday. She’d tried to call her hus
band after the sheriff had notified her of Agatha’s death, but cell phones rarely worked up at ‘The Pond,’ as the small, nameless lake in the hills above Misty Valley was referred to by locals. So Brandon hadn’t found out until he got home that evening, soaking wet and more than just a little drunk (he said Connie was the designated driver, as he’d had fewer beers).

  “And Ruby?” Louise asked. “When was she killed? On Sunday, Brandon and I went to Church—well, you were there, I’m sure you saw us—then drove into Pleasant View for dinner–we usually do that every Sunday—then came home. It started to rain again about the time we got back, which was maybe about six o’clock. We watched a little TV, went to bed early. Brandon was, naturally, upset about Agatha’s death. He’d had trouble sleeping Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday night. It got so bad, I finally moved myself into the guest room so I could get some sleep.”

  “Medical examiner says Ruby was killed sometime between midnight Sunday and three in the morning Monday,” the sheriff told her. “Looks like neither you nor your husband can alibi each other, what with you sleeping in the guest room. Not that I think either of you did it.”

  Louise was silent for the moment. “You’re right. But I know I didn’t kill Agatha or Ruby, and I’m pretty sure Brandon didn’t do it. As you said, he was miles away, up in the hills getting wet and drunk when his mother was killed. And even though we were sleeping in separate rooms that night, I think I would have known if Brandon had gone out in the wee hours Monday morning. I guess it’s just a matter of finding out who knew about Brandon and Ruby and why that made it necessary to kill both Agatha and Ruby.”

  “Yeah, and that’s not going to be easy. So, just put your think- ing cap on, if you would, and if you come up with any ideas, give me a call.”

  Louise nodded. “Sure. Oh, and Sheriff, the funeral will be at eleven Thursday morning, at the cemetery in Pleasant View. It’s just going to be a graveside service.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there. Be sure Dinty knows so he can put it in tomorrow’s paper.”

  After Louise Lafferty left, Harve thought he’d pop across the street and update Copper Penny on what was going on. The woman had a good mind, and he needed a good mind right now. Maybe he could get Marcia Cabot to whip him up something for takeout and he’d have Copper come over to his office for lunch. After all, she’d fed him twice. He might as well return the favor at least once.

  But before he could even get up from his desk, the door flew open and Dinty Moore sauntered in, pad and pencil in hand. “Hey, Harve, I need some skinny on Ruby Stone. Toby wouldn’t tell me a thing yesterday and I got deadlines, ya know.”

  “She’s dead. Single stab wound to the chest.”

  “Yeah, that much I got out of the medical examiner over in Pleasant View. I need more’n that. How ‘bout somethin’ else.”

  “Don’t know anything else, Dinty,” Harve said. “She’s dead, I don’t know who did it. The investigation is on-going.”

  “Come on, Harve, that won’t even gimme a column inch. How about Ruby’s fracas with Doc Lafferty way back when? That have any bearin’ on the case?”

  The sheriff frowned at Dinty. “How’d you know about that?”

  “Hey, I run a modern newspaper. I got internet. You know what happened to Ruby’s kid?”

  “No comment.”

  “Ha! You do know.” Dinty licked his pencil. “Come on, Harve, spill it.”

  “Dinty, I don’t know any more than what you read on the internet.”

  “Sure you do. That’s what ‘no comment’ means. It means you know somethin’ but don’t wanna talk about it. You think we newspaper people are stupid or somethin’? We know when the cops are holdin’ stuff back. You know somethin’ about the kid Ruby had in prison. Was it really the doc’s? Where is he or she now?”

  “Like I said before, Dinty, NO COMMENT. Now, I know you are free to print whatever you like, but if you print anything about what happened between Ruby and Dr. Lafferty all those years ago, you could impede our murder investigation.”

  “So you think her death could have something to do with that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did the doc do it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And what about the old lady? They were both stabbed. Any connection there?”

  “I don’t know. And that’s the truth, Dinty. I’m not holding anything back. There might be a connection, there might not.”

  “Okay, Harve, you’re the boss.” He began scribbling on a page of the dog-eared pad he always carried. “I’ll just note that she was killed sometime late Sunday night/early Monday morning, single stab wound to the chest. No person or persons of interest identified as of yet. Police are investigatin’.”

  “Thanks, Dinty.”

  “How about a funeral, Harve? Ruby didn’t have any family, did she?”

  “I don’t think so. Suds down at the Rainy Day said he’d see to burying her. You’ll have to talk to him about that.”

  The reporter saluted Harve with his pencil and left. That meant Harve could now go across the street and talk to Copper.

  When Sheriff Harve Blodgett walked into the Book Nook, he found Copper Penny discussing a recipe from a cookbook with Marcia Cabot.

  “Marcia, what are you doing here?” he asked. “I was just about to call you for a takeout order.”

  “I do have a staff, Sheriff,” Marcia said. “They can take care of your order.”

  Harve shrugged. He always preferred it when Marcia herself helped him. She always put in a second scoop of mashed potatoes with just a little more than normal gravy on them, and maybe even an extra wedge of tomato or slice or two more of cucumber on his salad. He patted his belly. Oh, well, he could likely do without that extra bit of potatoes and gravy. But he liked it when people made him feel special.

  “Copper,” he said. “I need to pick your brain on some things. Toby’s off in Portland today at the dentist, so I kind of have to stay around the station. I wondered if you could come over there and have lunch with me. I’ll order takeout from Marcia’s place.”

  “Would one o’clock work for you, Harve? Monica’s going at noon.”

  “Sure.” Harve nodded. “What would you like me to order for you?”

  “Oh, just a sandwich.” Copper asked Marcia what her sandwich of the day was, and decided that would do just fine, maybe with a side salad, raspberry vinaigrette dressing.

  Monica got back to the Book Nook just as the sheriff pulled up in front of his office with his take out order from Cabot’s. Copper told Monica she’d be across the street if she was needed and ran over to join the sheriff. The sandwich of the day was grilled vegetables and avocado with Swiss cheese on a fresh ciabatta roll, which Copper declared was the best sandwich she’d ever eaten. Harve had opted for a turkey sandwich with homemade cranberry sauce on sourdough bread, French fries, and a piece of chocolate five-layer cake.

  While they ate, Harve filled Copper in on his conversations with Ron Parker and Louise Lafferty.

  “Ron barely knew who Ruby was,” Harve said, “And although he didn’t much like Agatha, he didn’t really know her well enough to kill her. So I think we can rule him out.”

  “Don’t be so quick to rule anyone out, Harve,” Copper told him.

  “But Copper, we have to be logical about this.”

  “I don’t know, Harve. Sometimes there’s no logic to murder.”

  “Okay, we’ll keep him on the list–for now. As for Louise, she knew nothing about her husband’s little fling with Ruby twenty- seven years ago—or about Cindy being the doc’s daughter—until he told her about it yesterday.”

  “At least she says she didn’t.”

  The sheriff rolled his eyes. “There you go again, Copper, trying to unclear people I think are in the clear. You seem to think every-one’s lying.”

  “Well, Harve, somebody is. And until this case is solved, no one is in the clear.” She put down her sandwich, took a drink of her bott
led water, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Look, I’ve been doing some thinking about this. If you really think the murders are connected, and I agree with you there—I think they must be—then they have to have something to do with Brandon’s long ago tryst with Ruby. That’s the only connection.”

  “That we know of.”

  “That we know of.” Copper nodded her agreement. “What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why? I could have under- stood if Ruby had killed Agatha—maybe Agatha had discovered Ruby’s secret and was threatening a tell-all or something. Al- though why she would, I have no idea—after all, it was Agatha’s own son Ruby’s secret was connected to. But Agatha has become quite strange the last couple of years. There’s no telling what she might have done.”

  But did Agatha know about the scandal that had occurred between Ruby and Brandon? That was something neither of them knew and talking about it didn’t get them any further. It would have been logical for Brandon to have tried to keep such know- ledge from his parents, but one never knew. If Agatha knew and had confronted Ruby, then Ruby could have killed Agatha. But if so, who killed Ruby? If it was the same person who killed both women, it had to be someone who knew about Ruby’s secret and who knew Agatha knew. That person wanted to keep the secret a secret, so killed those who knew about it. But killing Ruby had brought the secret to light instead of keeping it secret, and before long it would be public knowledge. The sheriff couldn’t keep Dinty Moore out of his hair forever. And none of it made any sense at all. Everything was just going around and around in circles. Were the two murders connected or were they not? That was a pretty big question.

  Copper decided she needed to know more about Ron Parker. After all, he was good friends with Cindy Doyle.