Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

  ‘Don’t be jealous over him,’ Mandy advised. ‘You’re only twenty-five, right? Be pickier than I was.’

  ‘It’s hard.’ Reese sighed. ‘I feel like, with Indian men, they either want to move too fast or too slow. When a matchmaker is involved, they are ready to propose in a month, which is too fast for me, or they drag their heels.’

  ‘I appreciate that you want to marry within your own culture, but maybe you can meet someone in a social group instead?’ Mandy suggested.

  ‘Who has the time?’ Reese asked. ‘But I do wish there was a better way to meet medical professionals who share my heritage.’

  ‘Lots of Indian doctors in these parts,’ Mandy agreed. They gossiped for a few minutes about a handsome oncologist who was new in the office building, then Mandy excused herself to grab some food before her lunch was over. She had to believe Reese hadn’t been friendly with Ryan. That didn’t seem to match Reese’s worldview at all. Besides, it sounded like anyone might have had one of those sticky notes, though Reese had clearly been careful not to give her any.

  Back at the coffee bar, Mandy had an hour to go on her shift. Fannah had left for the day. She and Kit huddled behind the espresso machine and whispered about what had happened with Dr O’Hottie.

  ‘I don’t think you’re going to ever get a date with him after that, though,’ Kit said.

  ‘That’s OK.’ Mandy giggled. ‘I’ll just take one of Reese’s rejects when she finally selects a husband.’

  ‘Who is she?’

  Mandy described her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a couple of their regular end-of-day people approaching. One of them stumbled and put a hand to her hip.

  ‘I’m aching today,’ she said, rubbing the bony side of her torso.

  ‘Me too,’ the other nurse complained. ‘I can’t wait for spring.’

  ‘Coffee, stat,’ the first nurse barked at Mandy.

  Kit raised her eyebrows and turned toward the espresso machine.

  ‘What size?’ Mandy asked pleasantly. No one was going to bring down her unexpectedly good mood.

  ‘Extra-large,’ she snapped, rubbing her hip again.

  The other nurse called over the first’s shoulder. ‘Dry cappuccino, twenty ounces.’

  Where had the courtesy gone? Sometimes folks were abrupt, but when customers saw them every day, they usually added a please or a thank you. Mandy quickly rang up the first nurse and handed her a cup.

  ‘Lid,’ she snapped.

  ‘Next to the coffee urns,’ Mandy said politely. How could the nurse have forgotten that? She rang up the other nurse and Kit crafted her drink with double speed.

  They exchanged glances after the pair had meandered off with their drinks, complaining about their joints.

  ‘I hope we aren’t about to see a new wave of flu,’ Kit said out of the side of her mouth as the next wave of off-shift nurses approached. ‘Remember last time? It was a ghost town in here and Fannah started talking about cutting our hours.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Mandy sighed, feeling her forehead. It was cool, no sign of fever. ‘I sure hope not.’

  Kit laughed at her. ‘Hypochondriac.’

  When Mandy arrived home, she found a long-bed pickup truck parked alongside her yard. She sighed and backed out of her driveway, then drove around the block to park in front of her house. She didn’t want to park across from Linda’s house and get her car hit again.

  When she reached her back steps, she saw her cousin Jasmine coming out of the basement door, carrying a single box. Her elbow-length blond hair fluttered in the wind when she reached the yard. A wig or freshly dyed? Mandy couldn’t be sure. Behind her, a couple of beefy guys who looked like they could have played for the Huskies a decade ago wrestled out Ryan’s armchair.

  Jasmine, a decade older than these dudes, but who had spent her time in cosmetology well and was made up like an ageless Barbie version of a Kardashian, dropped her box into Mandy’s arms.

  Mandy staggered back, regaining her balance. This must be the box of magazines. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re home. You can help.’

  ‘I boxed everything up,’ Mandy said. ‘I did plenty.’

  ‘The memorial service is on Saturday at the same funeral home your dad’s was,’ Jasmine called over her shoulder as she went back to the basement. ‘Ryan’s body has been released.’

  Mandy shook her head as she walked to the pickup. Ryan was being buried on Valentine’s Day. That seemed appropriate somehow.

  She handed the box to the guy who was standing in the pickup bed and went to demand Ryan’s set of keys back from Jasmine, then escaped into her house before Jasmine could ask her for any more favors. Vellum walked in through the front door a few minutes later, complaining about her homework. Mandy set her up with a muffin and a glass of milk in her bedroom so she could focus on work.

  Fifteen minutes after that, Mandy ventured down the basement stairs. She had left large sticky notes on the items that were hers and these had been respected. Her grandmother’s sideboard was still in the hall. The bedroom and the sitting room had been stripped, though. She opened the closet. The hanging bag containing her old wedding dress still hung on the rail, and the Christmas ornament boxes were on the shelf.

  Dust bunnies dotted the carpet in both rooms. She went into the laundry room and grabbed her vacuum, to clean what she could. A couple of dark stains colored the carpet around where the easy chair had been. Beer maybe. She’d need to get a steam cleaner in here.

  Vellum crept down and looked around. She said ‘hello’, then frowned. ‘It’s so empty there’s an echo in here.’

  Mandy put her arm around her daughter. ‘I know. Let’s take a quick look at the walls and make sure we don’t need to paint, then lock it all up.’

  Vellum sighed. ‘It sucks that Ryan died.’

  Mandy changed the subject before her emotions took over. ‘Do you have big plans for Valentine’s Day?’

  Vellum stuck out her tongue. ‘As if.’ She brightened. ‘I filmed a video for us, though.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Yeah, I was bored at Grandma’s so I filmed myself doing a sheet of fifty heart doodles. Do you think you could edit it tonight and put it up? I thought we could use the money.’

  Mandy smiled at her daughter. ‘Absolutely. What a great idea.’

  Vellum patted her arm. ‘I saw the tools video. You really should have waited for me, at least to do your makeup.’

  ‘Yeah. Reese already made fun of me.’ Mandy kicked one dust bunny into another, forming a larger gray lump.

  ‘It’s getting lots of views and likes though.’ Vellum nodded wisely. ‘I’ll do a teen version, maybe on Sunday.’

  ‘OK. Upload your video from your phone to my computer?’

  ‘It’s already on the Cloud.’

  ‘Let’s take a quick look at the walls then, so I can get to work on the video. The faster we load it the better.’

  Vellum went to the short wall next to the closet. ‘Yep. I talked while I did the doodles. An intro and outro should be enough.’

  ‘Great!’

  Vellum rang her fingers along the wall then moved onto the next one. ‘We need to get the cobwebs off the ceiling, and this shelf is really dusty.’

  ‘The paint is marked over here, where his sofa rubbed against the wall,’ Mandy said. ‘We’ve got a few hours of work to do in this room.’

  ‘Of course we do,’ Vellum said. ‘Let’s just lock it up for the night and update our “to do” lists.’

  Upstairs, Vellum redid Mandy’s makeup and helped her set up to film an intro and outro for the new mini-video. Mandy threw on a relatively new red mock turtleneck and put a heart necklace over it that Cory had bought her one year. She spoke cheerily and wished their viewers a Happy Valentine’s Day, then watched through Vellum’s video. She made a couple of cuts, but Vellum had done a good job of showing her minimal supplies and remembering to announce each doodle as she did it.

  Mandy added one shot of
the entire page at the end, moving the camera over it in loving fashion to highlight the doodles one last time, then spliced in all four of the video segments and set it to upload.

  While her computer was digesting the video, she went into the kitchen, realizing they had skipped dinner. Vellum had gone to her bedroom to finish up an English Lit report.

  She scrambled some eggs with cheddar and chopped tomato and delivered a plate to her daughter’s room, then sat on a stool in her kitchen to eat and read the mail. Dreaming of a bubble bath and an early night, she was not happy when the doorbell rang.

  TWELVE

  Mandy set down her fork, then picked it up again to gobble her eggs. Why should she let them get cold? But she found she had lost her appetite. At this point, she couldn’t think of a single person she wanted to see at her front door. Anyone she loved or liked would have come to the back, or at least texted her first.

  She hoped Dylan and Alexis hadn’t appeared again. With that unpleasant thought, she slid off her stool and went to the front door, still holding her fork.

  When she checked through the door, she saw a single figure. Large, male, imposing. Relief that it wasn’t Ryan’s friends warred with concern for her and her daughter’s safety. No, not opening her door without more information. She flicked on the outdoor light so she could see.

  When she peered through the peephole again, Detective Ahola was staring right at her. She reared back, dropping her fork.

  ‘Everything OK in there?’ he called through the door.

  She kicked the fork out of the way. ‘Sorry.’

  When she opened the door, he furrowed his brow. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I was eating. Dropped my fork.’ She unlocked her screen door.

  He stepped into her living room, looking like a modern Viking with that strong chin, prominent cheekbones and fashionable beard. He wore a long-sleeved white T-shirt under a navy quilted vest, form-fitting jeans and hiking boots. He looked ready to scale her mountain.

  Her face flushed. Any mountain, that was, of which there were plenty to choose from around here.

  He frowned. ‘You OK?’

  She put her hands to her cheeks. ‘Hot flash?’

  ‘Aren’t you a little too young for that?’

  ‘A lot too young,’ she said emphatically.

  He grinned at her, making those model-worthy cheekbones pop. ‘Maybe you’re catching the flu.’

  ‘I hope not. Some people at work were complaining of body aches. That’s never good news.’

  He held up his hands. ‘Don’t touch me.’

  ‘You’re armed,’ she pointed out. ‘I’d be crazy to come within three feet of you.’

  His eyes slitted. ‘Smart.’

  She shifted from side to side, testing her joints for aches. Nothing, thankfully. ‘Any Viking marauders in your family history?’

  ‘No clue.’ The frown reappeared. ‘I have an update. Don’t you want to hear it?’

  ‘OK.’ She guessed the family genealogy chat could wait for some indeterminate point in the future.

  He sat down on her couch without being invited.

  Her brain said ‘Manners, manners’, but she was hardly going to suggest a homicide detective might have asked before taking a liberty. She perched on the armchair by the fireplace, waiting.

  His blue eyes pierced into her, as if he could read her history on her face. ‘At this time, you are no longer a person of interest.’

  She broke into a wide grin. ‘No?’

  ‘There are good prints on the hammer and on the journal. They match to each other, but not to you.’

  She put her hands to her cheeks. ‘What about Vellum?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not to her either.’

  Vellum appeared in the doorway, her arms clamped across her chest. ‘I heard my name. Is everything OK?’

  Mandy gestured to her daughter. Vellum came over and perched on the arm of the chair. ‘Detective Ahola just told me we’re not under suspicion anymore.’

  ‘Who is?’ Vellum demanded.

  ‘The fingerprints aren’t in the system,’ the detective explained. ‘And material on the hammer is a match to Mr Meadows.’

  Mandy winced. ‘That’s unfortunate.’

  He nodded as Vellum squeezed Mandy’s hand. ‘Still, it means we aren’t dealing with a sophisticated killer.’

  Mandy squeezed back. ‘Why weren’t my fingerprints on that journal? Wasn’t it mine?’

  ‘You thought you’d marked it up some, right?’ he asked.

  ‘Pen tests,’ she said. ‘Probably just a page or two.’

  He rubbed at one of his brows. ‘I don’t think it was yours, then. A few lists of numbers and such in pencil, no pen marks. We have research to do.’

  ‘I did find a sticky note with tally marks after that,’ she offered. ‘It was caught on a bookshelf, as if by accident. The note had the logo of a local business on it, but the owner said she gave them out as promotional items and she’d never been downstairs.’

  ‘I’d like to compare the handwriting. Do you have it?’

  She thought back. ‘Yes, it’s in the laundry room. I’ll get it for you. But it’s just marks. I don’t know if you can compare marks.’

  ‘Maybe. If they’re distinctive in some way.’

  She stood. Vellum sidled out of the room with her, then went back to her bedroom. ‘Hey,’ Mandy whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m ready to celebrate. Maybe I’ll run out and get milkshakes. Does that sound good?’

  Vellum rubbed her eyes. ‘OK. Mocha, please.’

  ‘At this time of night?’

  ‘It won’t affect me. I have a lot of boring reading to do.’

  ‘What do you have to read?’

  ‘The Crucible.’

  ‘Oh, you should enjoy that.’

  ‘You have to be joking,’ Vellum exclaimed.

  Remembering her ancestry question to Detective Ahola, Mandy said, ‘We had an ancestor arrested for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials.’

  Vellum’s eyes went wide. ‘Cool. Seriously?’

  ‘Yes, on my mother’s side. You should ask about her sometime.’

  Vellum watched from her doorway as Mandy unbolted the basement door. She sighed and went downstairs, knowing she had to get over this sense of dread and loss every time she stepped into the stairwell.

  The note was where she remembered it, on the dryer. She snatched it up and climbed upstairs, careful to bolt the door at the top. With an air of triumph, she flourished it at the detective.

  He shook his head at her and pulled out a plastic bag. ‘Your fingerprints must be all over it.’

  She dropped it in and he sealed the bag and labeled it.

  ‘It never would have occurred to me that it was valuable evidence. It was caught in the movement of the heating duct so I have no idea where it originated from. It couldn’t have been floating from Ryan’s body.’ Her voice caught. ‘It was in the sitting room.’

  ‘You’d better show me for the documentation.’

  She took him down and pointed to the spot on the bookcase. He took a photo and noted everything.

  ‘I think I’m done here,’ he said, glancing around.

  ‘It looks bigger without the furniture.’

  ‘Not really.’ He pointed at the closet. ‘Anything in there?’

  ‘I use it for holiday decorations and that kind of thing.’

  ‘Could you clear it out? I could fit my gun safe in there. I like to keep it out of view.’

  ‘Umm, I guess.’ She needed a tenant. ‘When did you think you might want to move in?’

  ‘We should discuss that.’ His phone rang.

  He answered, and by his lowered voice, she could tell it was a work call. She went back upstairs and pulled on her coat so she could leave as soon as he did. A couple of minutes later, he came back up. She heard the snick of the bolt.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.

  ‘Kidd Valley
, to pick up some milkshakes.’

  ‘Celebrating?’

  She lifted her palms into the air. ‘Vellum’s got a lot of homework. I have no mom guilt if I enable both of us.’

  His lips quirked. ‘I could use a burger. Which one are you going to?’

  ‘University?’ Even though she shouldn’t. It definitely catered to college students.

  ‘Sure. I’ll meet you there. We’ll talk about the basement.’

  Mandy wanted to keep her prospective tenant interested so she went to her car, happy now that she hadn’t finished her eggs. When her car stereo came to life, she found a pop station and hummed along to the latest Ariana Grande female empowerment earworm. For the first time since Ryan had died, she actually felt happy again. Her arrest wasn’t imminent and she might have a tenant.

  She walked into Kidd Valley and ordered her milkshakes. The detective was only a minute behind her and made his order without speaking to her. She glanced around. The restaurant was mostly empty at this time of night, but given that he was still running an active murder investigation, she didn’t want to seem too chummy with him.

  That instinct served her well. The door opened again and in walked Dylan and Alexis. They had always seemed inseparable, almost like twins, and here they were again. He had traded his ball cap for a bright blue Eddie Bauer beanie. Alexis wore her faux fur coat again and her blond hair hung as thin and lank as her skinny legs. Had they followed her to the restaurant?

  They spotted her and came in her direction. No hint of a smile or any sort of welcome expression met Mandy, just a certain resolve. With the confidence of knowing Detective Ahola knew exactly who they were, she stood her ground.

  ‘I’ve never seen you here,’ Dylan said in an aggressive tone.

  ‘I usually can’t waste money on fast food,’ Mandy said, then went on the offensive before they could badger her. ‘But I’m sure glad I ran into you two.’

  ‘Why?’ Alexis ran her fingers through the split ends of her ragged hair.

  ‘Jasmine has picked up all of Ryan’s possessions,’ Mandy announced. ‘There is no point in you coming to my house anymore.’

  Dylan glanced over her shoulder. Mandy saw him stiffen the moment he recognized the homicide detective. He smirked. ‘One last milkshake before you’re taken to jail?’