by Wendy Heuvel
“Hi, Edward.” Brent approached the old man.
“You know him?” Cassie whispered.
“Guys, this is Edward Morris. He often helps the village by reporting nuisances.”
“These three are nuisances. Trespassing two days in a row! I warned them I would call you. Looks like someone beat me to it.”
“Three?” Brent turned to Lexy. She smiled and shrugged.
“I hope you lock ‘em up, Brent.”
“Don’t worry, Ed. I have it under control. You can go home now.”
Edward waved his hand and stormed off, muttering to himself.
“Let’s get this taken care of.” Brent flicked his flashlight aiming the beam up the stairs again, then paused to look at Lexy. “And you and I will talk later.”
She gave him a sheepish grin.
Daniel led the way up the staircase, through the little bedroom closet, and up the skinny attic stairs. Then they carefully maneuvered around the trunks and crates, paying close attention to each step on the shaky attic floorboards.
“Ew!” Lexy wrinkled her nose.
“Yup. She’s dead.” Brent chuckled.
Lexy elbowed him. “Not funny. This is a real person we’re talking about.”
“Right. Sorry. You three sit there while I take a look.” He pointed to a row of crates.
“So, how does this fit into the story you told us, Lex?” Cassie wiped the crate with her mitten before she sat.
“I think it makes perfect sense. He left after the argument, and she was so distraught she decided she couldn’t live without him.”
“You think it’s that simple?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing about suicide is ever simple.”
Cassie tilted her head and observed Brent as he examined different parts of the skeleton. “She must have really loved him to do something so desperate.”
“Of course, you’d try and make this romantic.” Daniel rolled his eyes.
“It’s not romantic. At all. But it’s true. Imagine a love so deep, one person can’t dream about living without the other.”
“That’s a deep love,” Daniel said.
“But misdirected in the end. That’s not how God wants things to turn out. Marriage is a picture of the love He wants us to have for Him. We, His people, the church, are His bride.” Cassie turned and met Daniel’s eyes. Once again, they penetrated her soul. Her heart sped up, so she looked away. Now wasn’t the time to muddle through the puzzle of her feelings for him.
“Do you need any equipment from the car or the office?” Lexy approached Brent.
“Not yet. But maybe you can shine the light here for me.” Brent poked at a piece of worn cloth stuck to the skeleton’s hip.
“Yuck.” Cassie turned away.
“Definitely not romantic.” Daniel grimaced.
“No,” Cassie agreed. “It’s really sad.”
“It’s horrible.” Lexy moved the light to follow Brent’s hands as he took a closer look at the ribs. “The poor woman. All alone—and then trapped up here for years with no proper burial or people to grieve her.”
Daniel grimaced. “Didn’t she have parents? Or friends? No one questioned her whereabouts?”
Lexy shook her head. “Not as the story goes. Everyone thought she’d left to start a new life somewhere. No one could find her, so they assumed she was the one who cut them off.”
Brent rummaged through the stack of fallen crates beneath the skeleton. He picked a strong-looking square one and hopped onto it. “Pass me the light, please.” He held out his hand.
Lexy obliged and stepped back toward Cassie and Daniel. “It makes sense if you think about it. They couldn’t find her, and no one ever received word from her. It would be easier to be angry at her and assume she’d written them off than it would be to assume she was dead.”
“But these are all still rumours, right?” Cassie asked. “If this happened in the sixties, it’s safe to say the story’s been twisted and changed since then.”
“Maybe, but I think there are still a few people around from back then who remember what happened.”
Cassie frowned. “I meant to do some research last night after birding, but I was too tired when I got home. I ended up cuddling on the couch with Pumpkin and a cozy mystery someone gave me.” She smiled at Daniel. He kept her in good supply of books.
“I’ll see what I can dig up for you.”
“Thanks, Lex.” Cassie had relied on Lexy for information a few times in the past. Not because she worked at the police station, but because she was skilled at finding out information on the internet through social profiles and news articles. Although her access to police files didn’t hurt, Cassie didn’t like asking her friend to put her job on the line for information. They resorted to legal ways as much as possible.
Brent hopped off the crate and picked up another, smaller one. When he shook it, a board came loose, so he grabbed another one instead. He set it on top of the first big crate and climbed up them like stairs.
“Be careful!” Lexy called to him.
Brent didn’t answer her. His focus was on the skeleton in front of him, and the stone-cold look on his face made it clear no one could interrupt him. He reached up to touch the rafter the rope hung around, then aimed the light at the skull in front of him. The air was thick with dust sparkling in the light beam.
“Just as I thought.” He looked at the others.
“What’s wrong?” Lexy asked. “Do you need the kit now? Or something else?”
“We need more than a kit. We need a forensics unit.”
“What? Why?”
“Come see.”
Cassie followed Lexy and Daniel around to the other side of the skeleton where Brent stood.
“Can you see it from down there?” Brent pointed his flashlight at the back of the skull.”
“It looks like a little hole.” Cassie squinted.
“It is.”
“So?” Daniel asked.
“This little hole is from blunt force trauma to the head.”
Lexy stood on her tiptoes to try and get a better look even though the skull was several feet up. “Did she have an accident or a concussion sometime in her life?”
Cassie shook her head. “Nope. If that happened during her lifetime, the edges would be smooth and show signs of healing. Am I right?”
Brent nodded. “These edges are sharp and were fresh at the time of death.”
Daniel glanced back and forth between Brent and Cassie. “What are you saying?”
Cassie put her hand on her hip. “It appears Miss Sixties-Dress didn’t hang herself. She was murdered.”
“And hung here after to make it appear like a suicide.” Brent lowered the light.
“But how could someone do that?” Lexy asked. “Wouldn’t there be blood on her head? How could the murderer have hidden it?”
Cassie shrugged. “Stopped the bleeding and washed her hair?”
“Something like that.” Brent hopped down. “But one thing’s for certain.”
“What?” Daniel asked.
“We’re standing in the middle of a crime scene.”
Chapter 6
A sudden noise jarred Cassie out of her dream of skeletons dancing to sixties music and back into the realm of consciousness. She tried to move but realized she was pinned down. Where was she? Her mind struggled to get its bearings while her eyes gathered up the energy to open. Ah, right. She was home. Her late Sunday afternoon reading break-turned-nap. But why couldn’t she move? She forced her eyes open.
“Pumpkin!”
The cat sat on Cassie’s hip and thigh. Not only did she have Cassie pinned down, but she’d also cut off the circulation and Cassie’s whole leg was numb.
“Silly kitty! You have to move. Sorry.” She nudged the cat, who continued to ignore her.
Cassie’s phone buzzed, and the vibration made it dance on the table. It was Daniel.
I’m in the bookstore finishing up a few things. Gonna order piz
za. Want to join me?
Cassie couldn’t help but smile. Sure. Be down in a few.
K.
“Now you really have to get up, kitty.” Cassie struggled underneath the cat’s weight to sit up and slide Pumpkin onto the blanket.
“Rowr!”
“Sorry. Gotta go see Daniel. Wanna come?”
Pumpkin’s ears twitched. Cassie laughed. She knew when she was ready to leave, Pumpkin would be waiting at the door. She always accompanied Cassie to her store downstairs and often went to the bookstore with her for impromptu visits with Daniel.
She was also glad Pumpkin had successfully coaxed Anna’s cat, Caramel, out of hiding. By the time Cassie had picked Pumpkin up to go home, Caramel was sitting on the sofa playing with his toy mouse.
Cassie sighed and wondered how the investigation was going. The forensics team had just arrived as Daniel and Cassie were leaving. It would be a while before she’d hear anything, but she knew Lexy would text as soon as there was news.
Cassie tried to tame her curly hair in front of the mirror, but it refused to cooperate. Finally, she managed to pull part of it back and let a few loose curls hang around her face. She put a long, navy hoodie over her tight leggings, and to finish the outfit, shoved woollen slipper boots onto her feet. Her makeup needed little refreshing, but she put on some pale lipstick. It was an effort to appear Sunday casual but still make sure she looked her best for Daniel.
Cassie balked at the thought. Why would that matter? She wouldn’t do this to go see Lexy or Anna. So, why the concern over her looks to go see Daniel? Somehow, the line of friendship had been crossed again, and she needed to pull in the reins. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and put it all into a simple ponytail instead.
“Ready, Pumpkin?”
The cat met Cassie at the door and bounded ahead of her down the stairs. By the time Cassie arrived at the bookshop's door in the hallway, Pumpkin was already there, scratching at the doorframe.
Cassie knocked once and let herself in. The Book Nook was one of her favourite places to be. The long store had old, wooden bookcases lining the walls, with more cases protruding outward to make little nooks. An antique bar-turned-cash counter stood in the front corner, and at the back of the store, a cozy fireplace surrounded by comfy chairs offered a quiet spot to read. Deep-silled windows lined the far stone wall between the book nooks, currently decorated with greenery, wooden snowflakes, and hurricane lamps. As usual, Daniel had the white mini lights on, and the rest of the lights dimmed. Soft worship music played in the background.
Daniel was crouched over a box of books when he saw her. “You made it!” He dropped books into the box and jumped to his feet. He beamed from ear to ear.
“Of course. I’m hungry after our little adventure today.”
“So, you’re just here for the food?”
“And maybe a tea.”
“Oh. Well, to get the tea, you’ll have to participate in at least ten minutes of casual conversation.”
Cassie giggled. “What if I want two teas?”
“That’ll cost you.”
“Rowr!” Pumpkin rubbed against Daniel’s feet.
“Hey, kitty.” He bent down to scratch her ear.
Cassie stepped up to Daniel. “Now the tables have turned. You now owe me for the privilege of petting Pumpkin.”
“Well worth it.” Daniel stood and leaned forward, so close Cassie could feel his breath on her face. “How may I be of service, m’lady?”
Tingles ran up and down Cassie’s arms. She gulped. He was so close she could easily lean in and kiss him. Why did that thought enter her mind? She quickly stepped back. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
Daniel’s smile lessened as he backed away, but his gaze held hers. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She gulped again. He was clearly addressing their relationship. “Daniel—”
“Let me finish with these books, and I’ll order the pizza. Where do you want me to get it from?”
“Wood Oven Pizza, of course.” Cassie grinned, relieved he’d changed the subject. “Why are you working today, anyway? You do remember our stores are closed on Sundays in the winter?”
“I know. I just wanted to finish up a few things. And I like the quiet.”
“I understand. It’s peaceful in here.”
“Thanks. Have you heard from Lexy yet? Any news from the crime scene?” Daniel pulled three copies of an autobiography out of the box.
“No. I imagine they won’t be done for a while.”
“I can’t believe you’ve stumbled upon another murder.”
Cassie sighed. “Me either.”
“There goes your romantic notion of the mansion, too.”
“I’m guessing it was the husband who did it. So, still a crime of passion. But yeah, not the way love should go. I still love the house, though.”
“You think it’s the husband?”
“Surely. Who else would it be? They had a fight. He killed her and left.”
Daniel placed a few books on a table with a sale sign. “Do you think he’s still alive?”
“Wow. I never thought of that. I suppose he could be.”
“Brent will find out, I guess.”
“We don’t even know the lady’s name.” Cassie plopped into a nearby armchair and hung her leg over the side. “I need to think of her as something other than Miss Sixties-Dress.”
“Let’s see what we can find.” Daniel knelt on the floor beside the chair and leaned over the arm with his phone.
Cassie turned and placed both her feet flat on the floor. Daniel’s familiar scent of leather and old books penetrated her nose. She ignored her speeding heartbeat. “What are you going to search?”
“Uh...” He scratched his head and typed as he spoke, “Elm Street, Banford.”
Results filled the screen. Daniel scrolled past real estate listings, garage sale ads, garbage route information and a daycare ad, but nothing seemed to pertain to the old mansion.
“What if you typed in the house number?”
“Maybe.” Daniel popped over to his map app, looked up the number, and added it to the search. Nothing different came up. “Any other ideas?”
“Banford weddings in the sixties?”
“How will that help if we don’t know who we’re looking for?”
“Ugh.” Cassie slumped her shoulders. “This is why Lexy does most of the internet research for me. I don’t even know where to start with this one.”
Daniel lowered his phone and placed a hand on her shoulder. He massaged it a little. “We’ll just have to wait until she calls. Let me make you a tea.” He walked over to the coffee bar set up in one of the window nooks.
Cassie placed a hand on her coat where his had been, and traces of the electricity ran down her spine. Why did his touch always do that to her? “Thank you.” She heard him pop a pod into the machine and listened while the water ran into the mug.
A moment later, he appeared beside her with her tea. “Let’s sit by the fire where it’s cozier.” He nudged his head to the roaring fire.
“Sure,” Cassie agreed, not positive she should be thinking about getting even more cozy with Daniel today. But she followed him anyway. As she sat and took the hot mug of tea, her phone buzzed. “It’s Lexy!”
“Are they done?”
Cassie quickly scanned the text. “No. Won’t be for a while. But she did some research for Brent while he was working the scene.” Another text came through. “They do think it’s the lady in the photo you found but can’t say for certain until after the autopsy and dental record search are completed. Her name was Marilyn Howard. Her husband, Wayne, is still alive and still owns the house. He lives in Ottawa and is coming to the station tomorrow for an interview. Though he doesn’t yet know why.”
“Wow.” Daniel raised his eyebrows. “He is still alive. That’s crazy!”
“It is.”
“To think you’ve gotten away with murder, only to have it resurfac
e this many years later. How do they know he won’t bolt?”
Cassie shrugged. “They don’t seem to be worried. And anyway, they’re only assuming he did it.”
“You did, too. You said so earlier.”
“It makes the most sense. But if it wasn’t him, I’m going to help find out who it was.”
Daniel turned and looked into her eyes. “Why the sudden urgency? What’s changed?”
“Now she has a name. She’s a real person. And her life was ended unfairly. That house was meant for romance and dreams—not death.”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “And I know you’ll help Brent figure it out.”
Cassie struggled to look away from Daniel’s gaze. Something about the words romance and dreams really resonated in her soul while she looked at him. How had she crossed the line so quickly again? She jumped up and pulled her phone from her pocket. “Let’s order the pizza. I’m starved.”
Chapter 7
Cassie scurried around Olde Crow Primitives, dusting the displays of candles, rustic wooden signs, lanterns, and other country décor. She wanted to finish the cleaning before Grams came in for her shift at eleven. Then she’d be free to pop over to the police office by eleven-fifteen when Wayne Howard was due for his interview.
Lexy had tried to talk her out of it, but Cassie had insisted. Hearing things firsthand was always better than hearing a shortened rendition. Besides, Cassie wanted to see what Mr. Howard looked like.
The station was only a satellite office, which, until Brent came on as Banford’s full-time officer a couple of months ago, was only used once a week. It was very tiny with only the front counter, a couple of chairs, and a single office.
If everything went according to plan, Cassie would arrive at the station just after Mr. Howard entered Brent’s office. Lexy would leave the door open and make sure to sit in the far chair, leaving the chair by the door for Mr. Howard. Brent would be unable to see Cassie from his spot behind the desk.
But she would hear everything.
She felt a twinge of guilt at her plan but quickly justified her actions by remembering how Brent had included her in his last murder investigation. She’d even done some undercover work for him—of sorts. Surely, he wouldn’t get angry at her for happening to be in the office while he interviewed this murder suspect. Would he?
