Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

‘Vellum Moffat,’ Mandy said. ‘My daughter.’

  ‘Do you mind if I record your statement?’ the detective asked, pulling his phone from his belt.

  ‘No,’ Mandy said.

  The detective fiddled with his phone, setting it on the trunk in front of Mandy. He spoke some preliminary information, including a code number and the date, then started asking them questions about the evening.

  ‘It was really loud,’ Vellum confirmed, when they returned to the noises they heard.

  ‘I thought it was the laundry basket,’ Mandy admitted, ‘but it’s still where I left it this morning.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. May I?’ He gestured to the plush cranberry-colored recliner to the right side of the fireplace. She used to have two of them, but Cory had taken the other one when he moved out.

  She nodded. He proceeded to run her through the evening’s events again, taking notes along with making the recording. She answered as honestly as she could, keeping her attention focused on his expressive eyebrows. When they came together, she expanded her answers. When they tilted down, she sped up.

  Abruptly, he started firing questions at Vellum. At least he hadn’t attempted to question her without Mandy present. At first his questions were the same as those to Mandy, but then he asked one that Mandy knew would terrify her daughter.

  ‘Were you or your mother apart for any length of time after she came home from work?’

  Vellum gave him a patented teenage ‘adults are nuts’ stare. ‘I went into my bedroom while she ate dinner, but my bedroom and the kitchen share a wall. She never left the room.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  Vellum gave a bored shrug. ‘It’s an old house. The floors squeak.’

  ‘What about later, when you started working on your, err, journal project?’

  ‘She never left,’ Vellum asserted.

  When Vellum came to the end of her brief recitation, Mandy put up her hand, feeling more like herself now. ‘What aren’t you telling us? He slipped and fell, right? Why is a homicide detective questioning us?’

  ‘Just following protocol, Mrs Meadows.’

  ‘Ms,’ she corrected. ‘I went back to my maiden name after my divorce.’

  ‘Mom,’ Vellum protested.

  Mandy realized that last sentence might have come off as flirting, which she wasn’t attempting to do, of course not, not with her cousin dead in the house. ‘Just being factual.’

  ‘My dad moved out last year. They just signed the final papers a week ago.’ Huge tears filled Vellum’s large, expressive milk chocolate eyes and cascaded down her cheeks.

  ‘Are you done?’ Mandy asked. ‘I’d like to take my daughter somewhere more comfortable.’

  Vellum gasped in horror. ‘Can I at least get my stuff?’

  Detective Ahola glanced between the two of them. Then he lifted his hand and crooked two fingers at Officer Martinez, who’d been in the hallway. Mandy hadn’t noticed. ‘Can you supervise them while they gather a few things? Medications and such.’

  ‘My phone?’ Vellum asked.

  ‘You can keep your phone, Miss Moffat, but your mother can’t take hers. We need to take a copy of that video you were filming at the time of Mister Meadows’ death.’

  ‘No phone?’ Mandy whispered. ‘Can you legally take my phone?’

  ‘I can get a warrant if you like,’ Detective Ahola said. ‘But I’d rather process the phone quickly and get it back to you.’

  ‘You have nothing to hide, Mom. Just let them take it. I have all your contacts backed up on my phone.’ Vellum pulled at her sleeve.

  ‘But—’ Mandy felt any power she had eroding. ‘I suppose my video is too long to simply text to you, Detective.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s my assumption. You can forward your calls to your daughter’s phone. Do you know how to do that?’

  ‘I’ll figure it out.’ Mandy swallowed hard. ‘You’ll lock up when you’re done?’

  ‘And notify you when you can re-enter,’ he promised. ‘By the way, how did he come into the house, if no one saw him upstairs?’

  ‘He has his own entrance into the basement from the backyard,’ Mandy explained. ‘The door is underneath the mudroom off the kitchen.’

  The detective nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  Mandy could feel Vellum’s body shaking, so she rose from the sofa. Her daughter followed like a puppy. In the master bedroom, Mandy pulled an overnight bag from under her bed, then made a face at all the dust on it. When was the last time anyone had talked her into going anywhere? She slid it back under the bed and pulled a bookbag from her closet, tossing warm pajamas and a work outfit into it.

  Vellum shifted from side to side, impatient, as Mandy settled toiletries into a plastic bag and threw it on top of the clothes. She desperately wanted her journal to record her thoughts and fill out all her daily trackers, but it was in the art studio. Knowing Officer Martinez wouldn’t let her near that part of the house right now, she followed Vellum into her bedroom. Her daughter stuffed several items of clothing into her school backpack.

  ‘Don’t forget underwear,’ Mandy reminded.

  ‘Mom!’ Vellum shrieked.

  Mandy groaned at the misplaced outrage and sat down on the edge of the bed while Vellum selected socks and other items from her top drawer. Then she pushed a bunch of makeup off her dresser directly into her bag.

  In a softer voice, Mandy asked, ‘Do you have what you need for school tomorrow?’

  ‘I didn’t do my homework.’

  She shifted on the bed, glancing around the room to see if any homework had left her daughter’s backpack yet. ‘You can do it at Grandma’s.’

  ‘Can’t you write me a note? Extreme distress?’

  ‘It will just pile up if I do that. You’ll be miserable for the rest of the week.’

  Vellum shoved her feet into heavy black boots. Though hideous, Mandy knew her daughter loved them.

  Officer Martinez gave a hacking cough, indicating they were out of time.

  ‘My purse is in the kitchen. I’ll need it.’

  The officer let her eyelids flicker for a moment, to express her disgust. ‘I’ll have to search it.’

  ‘Ryan never came upstairs since I got home,’ Vellum said.

  ‘Sorry,’ the officer said. She opened the bedroom door and shouted for someone to photograph the purse and bring it to her. After that was taken care of, she led them back through the house, where she allowed them to remove their coats and hats from the coat rack. Then she took them outside the front door and around the house to the driveway, because she didn’t want them going near the basement door.

  Mandy unlocked the passenger side door of her car and dumped her bags in the back seat, then slid into the driver’s side. The officer tapped on her window. She opened her car door again.

  ‘Here’s a card with the information you’ll need about tonight,’ the officer said.

  Mandy took the card. ‘Thank you.’ She watched as the officer went back up her steps, as if she lived there, not Mandy.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Vellum asked with a hiccup.

  ‘Grandma’s.’

  ‘She lives across the street.’

  ‘I know that, but I might as well park over there so I can go to work in the morning.’

  ‘She’s got that dumpster parked in her driveway and there’s never room on the street at this time of the night.’

  ‘It never ceases to amaze me how detail-oriented you are,’ Mandy said. She hauled herself out of her seat and grabbed her bags. Vellum pressed up close against her as they walked gingerly down the driveway, keeping an eye out for ice.

  Barbara Meadows, Mandy’s widowed mother, dressed in flared yoga pants and a long sweater, had the front door open before they’d climbed up the steps from the street to her raised front yard. ‘I’ve been wondering what’s going on over there. Is everyone OK?’

  Tight-lipped, Mandy shook her head. Barbara glanced at her then stepped back into the house, holding out o
ne hand to Vellum. ‘Come in, sweetie. I’ll fix you some hot chocolate and you can tell Grandma all about it.’

  ‘Non-dairy,’ Vellum reminded her.

  ‘Oh.’ Barbara rolled her eyes. ‘There might be some soy milk on the rack downstairs.’

  ‘I’m not going down to the basement,’ Vellum told her.

  ‘Why not?’

  Mandy took her mother’s arm. ‘We need to talk. Vellum, why don’t you make yourself some of that tea you like?’

  Mandy pulled her mother upstairs, so that Vellum couldn’t hear them. She could feel the fine bones in her mother’s fragile hand. The subfloors were exposed, since her mother was having the carpet replaced.

  ‘Why didn’t you come over when you heard the commotion?’ Mandy asked, collapsing into Barbara’s plush cream loveseat in her sewing room. She hadn’t grown up in this house, but this room had been her bedroom for the last two years of high school. They’d moved south from Lynnwood after her father had received a big promotion at Boeing. He’d died suddenly last year, before Mandy’s marriage collapsed. She’d often wondered what she’d missed during her grief-stricken months. All those nights over here, sitting in the kitchen with her mom, instead of staying home with Cory. He’d obviously found comfort elsewhere.

  ‘There were so many police milling around.’ Barbara shuddered and patted her short, permed blond hair. ‘Then I saw that white vehicle with the words “Medical Examiner” across the back come up the street.’ She shook her head. ‘I just couldn’t face it, Mandy. I’m sorry. You must think I’m a bad mother.’

  Mandy stared at her, incredulous. ‘You thought we were all dead?’

  ‘No. I would think the entire street would be blocked off if something that bad happened.’ She sighed. ‘No, I thought Ryan’s liver gave out, poor boy.’

  ‘He fell down the stairs,’ Mandy said flatly. ‘Maybe slipped on one of my journals. Maybe murdered. I don’t know.’

  ‘Murdered?’ Barbara shook her head in the negative, even before Mandy could answer her.

  ‘Why would homicide detectives show up?’ Mandy asked. ‘We were questioned by an actual homicide detective.’

  ‘Maybe they’re just being thorough.’

  ‘I used to pride myself on my intuition. That notion was shaken badly after Dad died and Cory left. But I had the sense there was something going on that the police were being secretive about.’

  Barbara’s nostrils flared. ‘If it was murder, I suspect those strange new friends of his, Dylan or Alexis.’

  Mandy opened her purse and pulled out a stick of gum. She offered her mother the package but she waved it away. ‘I don’t know. I mean, I don’t get what the pair of them get out of their friendship with Ryan any more than you do, but Ryan is hanging out at home instead of who knows where.’ She paused, then her voice hitched when she spoke again. ‘I mean “was”. Oh, Mom, this is horrible.’

  ‘So complicated.’ Barbara picked up a cream throw pillow and played with the fringe. ‘I’m not convinced they’re just friends. He’s considerably older than both of them.’

  ‘Whatever has been going on stayed in the basement,’ Mandy assured her mother. ‘I’ve barely spoken to either Dylan or Alexis. Neither Vellum nor I have seen anything inappropriate for teenaged eyes.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that. You’re a good mother, but teenagers see much more than we had to these days. I’ll bet something was going on. Maybe Dylan didn’t like Ryan’s relationship with Alexis? Or were they the couple? No, Ryan only ever dated girls.’

  Mandy winced and tried, not too hard, to visualize how new friends might have caused Ryan to fall down the stairs. Or why. ‘You think one of them was jealous of the other’s friendship with Ryan?’

  ‘Or they were doing drugs.’ Barbara always blamed drugs.

  Mandy snapped to attention at that. ‘Ryan didn’t do drugs. He prided himself on just drinking. I remember him telling me about the slippery slope when inhibitions are lowered.’ She pushed the gum into her mouth, hoping to stop grinding her teeth.

  ‘I vote for Alexis. That Russian temperament. She’s volatile.’

  ‘I can’t deny that,’ Mandy admitted. ‘I’ve heard loud fighting when they’re over. That’s how I learned he had these new friends. There was some kind of fight around Halloween.’

  Her mother’s lips turned down. ‘At least that’s finished. Vellum won’t be exposed to any more nonsense. I know you were loyal to Ryan, but he wasn’t a good man.’

  ‘Ryan kept his distance from Vellum,’ Mandy told her. ‘Besides, I didn’t hear either of his friends in the house tonight.’ Neither of them spoke English as a first language, and their distinctive accents made their presence obvious.

  ‘You think he slipped on a journal you left on the steps and fell?’

  ‘Down to the landing,’ Mandy confirmed. ‘But I’ve been thinking and thinking. I don’t recall seeing that teal journal in months. I only used it for a pen test then lost it somewhere in the house. My subscribers like videos where you show how pens behave in different journals, like if the ink bleeds through the paper or not.’

  ‘I love the results of all the doodling you do,’ Barbara said. She was a loyal viewer.

  ‘Thanks. But if I didn’t leave that journal on the stairs, who did?’

  THREE

  ‘You’ll make sure Vellum gets to her bus stop?’ Mandy asked as she set her borrowed ‘Best Grandma Award’ coffee cup in her mother’s sink the next morning.

  Barbara squeezed her shoulder. ‘Of course. You don’t want to be late for work.’

  Mandy leaned into the hug. ‘That I do not. Can Vellum come straight here after school, in case we can’t go home yet?’

  ‘Of course.’ Barbara drummed her fingers on her lower lip. ‘I can’t be here. I have a volunteer meeting at the food bank, but I’ll give her my spare key.’

  ‘Perfect, thanks.’ Mandy kissed her mother’s cheek then pulled her hat down to her eyebrows and over her ears. She wished she’d remembered to bring gloves the previous night. But she hadn’t, so she stuck her hands in her coat pockets as she left her mother’s house and crossed the street, her purse swinging in the wind.

  At least it wasn’t raining. Frost tipped the grass with white, the kind of morning that looks wonderful in December with Christmas lights and lawn decorations, but not so great in February, when everyone just wants spring.

  As she reached the other side of Roosevelt Way, her neighbor Linda Bhatt opened her kitchen door and walked down her side steps, arms crossed over a bulky sweater.

  ‘What happened last night?’ Linda called, coming to meet her on the street. She still wore flannel pajamas and had thrown on some Ugg boots. ‘Do you have time to come in?’

  ‘I have maybe four minutes to spare.’ Mandy stopped under a large evergreen that would shelter her from the wind. ‘Can you stand the cold?’

  Linda nodded. ‘Anything for you.’ Tall and Rubenesque, she was the neighbor who’d show up with half a pan of brownies after eight at night and beg Vellum to eat them so she wouldn’t. She and her husband, Dr Sanjay Bhatt, had divorced four years ago. About a decade younger than Mandy’s mother, she’d been Mandy’s best friend for the six years she’d lived in her house. The twenty-plus year age difference between them never seemed to matter.

  ‘My cousin died last night,’ Mandy said, hearing the choked sob in her voice. She hadn’t had to say the words for several hours, hadn’t even thought about a funeral yet. Would that fall to her or to Ryan’s sister, Jasmine? Did he have a will? Probably not. No kids, no spouse.

  ‘Oh, gosh.’ Linda rubbed Mandy’s arms vigorously with chubby, beringed fingers. ‘How terrible. Did Dylan or Alexis call the police?’

  ‘No. Why?’ Mandy frowned.

  ‘They were in your basement apartment and only left about ten minutes before I heard the sirens.’ She paused. ‘I was driving to the freeway when I saw the police go by.’

  Mandy’s mouth dropped open. ‘You have
to be kidding me. Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I had to get cookies over to the animal shelter before five-thirty so I was keeping a close eye on the clock.’ Linda supplied the local shelter with handmade cookies to keep possible pet adopters in the shelter munching while the staff tried to match them with an animal.

  ‘I didn’t hear anyone talking downstairs, much less doors closing.’

  Linda shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself again. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  ‘How could I be that oblivious?’ She had thought she heard every noise from downstairs.

  ‘What were you doing? Taking a bath?’

  ‘No, we were filming a video in the studio.’ Mandy rubbed her stiff fingers against the insides of her pockets. ‘I’ve been in a fog since I signed my divorce papers.’

  ‘I know, kiddo.’ Linda’s face creased with sympathy.

  ‘Plus, I had a bad day and had to work overtime.’ She told Linda about the cash drawer. ‘Not that any of it matters now.’

  ‘You could have run over to my house to borrow the fifteen bucks,’ Linda said. ‘You know you could.’

  ‘I know. But I pride myself on my independence now.’

  ‘There’s no point in upsetting Vellum,’ Linda said gently. ‘Not when the problem is so easy to fix. How about I drop the cash by when she gets home from school?’

  Mandy shook her head. ‘We don’t have access to the house right now. Vellum will have to go over to Mom’s after school.’

  ‘How long will they keep you out of the house?’

  ‘Detective Ahola said he’d let me know,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Hmmm,’ Linda mused. ‘I dated a cop, before Sanjay.’

  ‘Really?’ A loud truck drove down Roosevelt, drowning out part of Linda’s answer.

  ‘Yes. I had a terrible attraction to overbearing bullies,’ Linda said with a laugh. ‘I’m happier single.’

  Mandy chuckled. ‘Single, my ass. Don’t think I’ve missed seeing George Lowry sneaking around. His house is right behind my mother’s.’

  Linda grinned. ‘I didn’t say I was going without sex.’

  ‘Say, why haven’t you talked to the police? I thought they always talked to the neighbors when things like this happened. Maybe they do know it was an accident.’ Mandy shifted. Her fingers were getting really cold.