Where There's a Will

by Amy K Rognlie

  He drummed his fingers on the table before answering. “Since we don’t even know who ‘she’ is, I’d say we’d have a hard time finding out what ‘she’ did, especially if it was years ago.”

  “Yes, but he talked like I should know who it was. He begged me to not let her get away with it.” I shook my head. “That’s about the time the nurse booted me out of the room.”

  “Well, we’ll probably never know what he meant, unless we figure out who he was talking about.”

  “But what if it was the same person who killed Sister Erma? And maybe Maple?”

  Todd shook his head as he stood. “I think you missed your calling, darlin’. You should have been a P.I.”

  “Yeah, then we could catch bad guys together, right?” I grinned up at him. “You told me it doesn’t hurt to ask what if.”

  An hour later, I pulled a large manila envelope out of the mailbox at C. Willikers. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the return address of the title company. Finally!

  I held the answer to the mystery in my hand. Well, at least one of the answers, I hoped. Would the document confirm that Erma owned the land? Or Kenny? Should I wait until Todd got here to open it?

  No. I was too excited to wait. If I pulled out that piece of paper and Erma’s name was on the deed, that would confirm, at least in my mind, that we had a murderer in our midst. And if I was a betting woman, I would bet it was June. After all, Kenny said she had ruined his life. She probably killed Erma out of spite for Kenny so he couldn’t have the land either way. But then whose land would it be?

  I should at least go into the store instead of opening the envelope here in the middle of Main Street. I held the envelope under my arm as I unlocked the shop door. I tucked my purse and phone under the counter as usual, then grabbed the hooked knife I used to trim plant stems and slit the envelope open. I slid the sheaf of papers out and scanned them. I sucked in my breath. A name jumped out at me. It was—

  “Find out what you wanted to know?”

  I jumped and whirled. Sylvia, the mail lady, had slipped in the front door without me hearing her, and now she closed and locked it behind her.

  I gaped at her. “I—I’m sorry?”

  She swaggered over toward me, an open switchblade in her hands. “I said, did you find out what you wanted to know?”

  I stepped backward to put the counter between us. When had this chubby, grandmotherly-looking woman with the silvery curls and large glasses turned into a…a madwoman? God, please protect me.

  I clutched the pruning knife I still held in my hand, my mind reeling. I was so sure it was June all of this time, but now…I squinted at the woman. I’d never seen her up close. But she looked like someone I’d seen lately...or maybe…I gasped. “You’re Marianne.”

  “Congratulations.” She whipped off the curly gray wig. “I can’t believe I pulled it off this long. I’ve been living here in Short Creek for three months and no one suspected. Do you know how easy it is to find out things about people when you deliver their mail?”

  “But why?” What am I missing?

  She stepped closer and I could smell the liquor on her breath. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

  Think, Callie. The nerves in my legs went crazy.

  She sneered at me and I gripped the knife harder.

  Sharlene. Marianne. Oh, no. “You’re Sharlene’s mother.”

  She shrugged. “You could say that. I never thought she’d remember this place, but here she came.” She looked around appreciatively. “Always hated this ol’ dump of a building. But you got it looking real good. Too bad you won’t live to enjoy it.”

  Was the woman crazy? Another puzzle piece clicked into place. “You—you made those cookies! You were trying to poison Sharlene. But Erma ate them before she got there and died instead.”

  She shrugged again. “Sometimes stuff don’t work out as planned.” The switchblade glinted in the light as she waved her arms.

  My throat went dry.

  “But you’re stickin’ your nose in where it don’t belong. Now give me that envelope.”

  I stuffed the papers into the envelope slowly. God, please send someone to help me. If I could keep her talking until someone got here, I might have a chance. “Does Sharlene know you’re here in town?”

  “Of course not.” She snatched the envelope from my hand, and I gripped the knife again under the counter.

  “Why?”

  She squinted at me from behind the enormous glasses. Now that I was close to her, I could see the heavy makeup that she wore to make herself appear twenty years older than she was. All this time, she had lived in our community. Among people who had known her for years.

  “Why, what?”

  “Everything.” I gestured with my hand. “Why are you trying to kill your own daughter?”

  She sucked in her breath. “Because she knows.”

  I gulped. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but I decided to take a long shot. “I don’t think she does.”

  She swore, then laughed in my face. “You believe all of that about her losing her memory and all?”

  Did I? “Yes, I do.”

  Jesus?

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t believe you truly want to kill your daughter, Marianne.”

  “I have to.” She never batted an eye. “And I have to kill you too, because now you know.”

  Jesus?

  I am here.

  “No, I don’t. Do you want to tell me?” I almost bit my tongue when I heard the words come out of my mouth.

  She cocked her head, then turned the switchblade over and over in her hands. “Jimmy was such a stupid man. I hated the whole dry cleaner business thing, but he was determined to ‘make a new life’ as he said.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my phone screen light up on the shelf under the counter with a text. Thank God it was on silent.

  I knew Sylvia would notice if I tried to text, so I decided to try Aunt Dot’s method. I pressed a few random buttons, hoping whoever I had texted back would realize something was wrong.

  Sylvia clicked the switchblade shut and stuck it in the pocket of her mail pants, then leaned her elbows on the counter. “Why did you hire Sharlene?” Her tone was conversational, as if she hadn’t threatened to kill me a minute ago.

  “I…” I stopped and cleared my throat, hoping my voice would work.

  Tell her, Daughter.

  I swallowed hard. “I hired her because God told me to.”

  “God.” She rolled her eyes. “You and Erma. I couldn’t take all that crazy stuff she wrote in her journal. I thought maybe I’d get the lowdown on what she knew about me an’ Jimmy, but it was all God this, God that.” She stared at me intently, almost…pityingly. “You believe all that ridiculous garbage, too, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Every bit as much as I believe that He loves you.” I held my breath and watched her bravado waver for the briefest moment, then spring back to life.

  She slammed her fist on the counter, jolting me. “I don’t want to hear none of that God stuff. He never done nothing for me except make my life miserable with all that talk of sin and hell. Then when we moved here to Short Creek and all them church people acted all holier than thou...” She covered her face. Her chest heaved, but she didn’t cry.

  It seemed ridiculous, but I stuck my knife in my pocket, rounded the corner of the counter, and put my arm around her shoulders. “You can stop fighting now,” I whispered.

  She shook her head, her face still in her hands. “I can’t. Oh, God help me. I can’t. I’m in too far. I never meant for it to go this far.”

  I held my arm around her, praying silently. What now? Jesus?

  She pulled her hands away and shrugged my arm off. “I should have stayed in Arkansas. I could have killed myself there and no one would ever know or care about my secrets. But now you know.” She dug in her pocket.

  I held my breath. Was she going to stab me after all? Could I reach the knife
in my pocket in time?

  She pulled out a cigarette and a lighter and lit up, her hands shaking.

  I steadied myself against the counter.

  “Oh, God, what a fool I am. I got to get out of here.” She blew a stream of smoke out the side of her mouth, then studied my face. “What am I going to do about you?”

  Over her shoulder, I thought I saw a quick movement through the front window. “Why don’t you turn yourself in?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Now there’s an idea. Don’t you think I’ve thought of that a million times?” She threw her cigarette on the floor and ground it out with her heel before reaching for my arm. “Lucky for you, I don’t feel up to messing with you today. I’ll take you—”

  “And lucky for you, you don’t have to worry about turning yourself in anymore.” Harry’s voice startled us both.

  Oh, thank God.

  He strode toward us from the back room. “What seems to be the problem here, Calendula?”

  Sylvia dropped my arm and stood still.

  I pointed at her. “Marianne,” I said.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Harry stared and stepped closer to her. “Marianne Janosic?”

  “That’s right, Harry. Pulled a good one over on ya, didn’t I?” She sneered up at him. “Been here in this lousy little town for three months and no one recognized the elderly mail lady.”

  I sank down onto my stool, my legs weak.

  Harry continued to study her face. “Why would you come back like this? We all loved you and Jim and the kids.”

  I knew Harry always kept a pistol in his car, but that didn’t mean he had it on his person. I edged toward my phone, keeping my eye on Sylvia. Marianne. She seemed calm enough, but one never knew.

  She shrugged. “I had to do what I had to do.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and grinned at him, which made me a little nervous. I needed to alert Todd, but my phone was under the counter, too far away for me to grab it without it being obvious what I was doing. Arg. I met Harry’s gaze for the briefest instant, trying to communicate with him.

  “Where’s Jim?” Harry reached up deliberately to scratch his neck, and I saw the bulge of his holster under his sports shirt.

  “Jim. Jim!” She swore. “Everyone cared about him. Oh, poor Jimmy. Trying to make a new life after prison. What about me?”

  “Whoa.” Harry held his hand up. “That’s not true. Everyone in the family accepted you from day one, even though we knew.”

  Knew? Knew what?

  “You pretended to, you mean.” She tossed her head.

  “No. You were Jim’s wife, so that makes you family.” He stepped closer to her. “What happened to Jim? What did you do to him?”

  She smirked at him. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

  “There is someone who knows.”

  Marianne blanched, but Harry’s voice was steel. “If you think you’re going to get away with—”

  “Give it a break, all right? Not my fault he was a dang coward.” She sneered at him. “He ain’t dead.”

  Was she bluffing? Or did she not know?

  Now was my chance to grab the phone while she was locked onto Harry. I slid behind her, then froze. She held a syringe behind her back, her thumb on the plunger.

  No way. My brain froze, then adrenaline kicked in.

  “Harry! Watch out!” I dove at Marianne, knocking both of us down. The syringe rolled on the floor near my foot as Harry jumped out of the way.

  We all scrambled for it.

  I tried to kick it out of Marianne’s reach, but she grabbed for it and plunged the needle into her own arm before I could stop her. She pushed the plunger, smiling.

  “No!” Harry clutched her forearm and yanked the needle out. “This is not the way.”

  She shrugged. “Shoulda done it a long time ago. I’ll take my secrets to the grave with me and no one will stop me.”

  By the time the ambulance arrived, her voice was slurred, and her eyes dilated.

  “She must have gotten more in her system than I thought.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t know what it was, but hopefully it wasn’t enough to kill her.”

  I looked up at him from where I sat on the floor next to her while the EMTs did their thing. “This is so sad.”

  “I can’t believe it. But I feel like I’m so close to finding out about Jim. What if she dies and I never—” He stooped down next to her. “Marianne. Jimmy’s dead. For God’s sake, tell me what happened twenty years ago.”

  Her eyelids rose halfway.

  “Please. Please tell me.” Harry choked back a sob.

  She shook her head from side to side, fighting against the EMT. She moaned as her body went rigid, then sighed as the spasm relaxed. “Ask…Kenny.”

  Harry and I stared at each other as the EMTs wheeled Marianne out of my shop.

  “Kenny again.” I pushed my glasses back up where they belonged.

  “I wasn’t aware that they knew each other. Whew.” Harry slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his side for a second. “That was closer than I would have liked. Thank God I got your text. I figured something must be wrong when you used Dot’s texting method.”

  We laughed, then he turned serious. “You know Todd is probably going to hire an armed guard for you when he hears about this. How do you get yourself in these jams, girl?”

  “That’s what I keep asking myself.” I sank down on a stool, my legs feeling a little shaky. “I hope Sylvia—I mean Marianne—makes it.”

  “I can’t believe she’s been in town that long and none of us realized it was her. Do you think she knew about the twenty-year term of Kenny and Erma’s deal? It seems like it would be too coincidental for Erma to die two weeks before the time was up.”

  “I don’t know, but it was pretty well thought out. For Marianne to actually get a job here in Short Creek and live in town for that long… she said something about Sharlene knew and that’s why she had to kill her.” Sudden horror washed over me. How could someone be so evil as to want to murder her own child? I dropped my head into my hands. God, please have mercy.

  “Thank God she didn’t succeed.”

  “Yes, but at the cost of Sister Erma.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the pugs snoring in the pool of sunshine near the door. My heart rate slowed, but I still couldn’t wrap my brain around what had happened.

  Finally, Harry stood. “Maybe something will turn up about Jim in Kenny’s personal papers. Surely he had a will.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows? He hadn’t been living at Willowbough for very long before he passed away. So, unless he took all of his personal papers with him to Willowbough, we need to get into his house somehow.”

  Harry chuckled. “Hold on there, Nancy. You’ll need a search warrant for something like that.”

  “Not if the family gives me permission.” I cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “What family? As far as I know, Kenny didn’t have anyone left once Maple died.”

  I wasn’t about to let a little thing like that stop me. “Why don’t you head to Willowbough and see what you can dig up there? Maybe Auntie knows if he had anything like that with him. I’m going to work this angle while I’m waiting for Todd.”

  I sat at my kitchen table that evening with Purl in my lap. What a day! I thought I had the answer, but then came the curve ball of Sylvia. Or Marianne. Out of the blue. How had I not taken her into account before? I had to regroup. I thought I was onto June, but clearly, I was wrong. So what did I know so far?

  I knew that Marianne, aka Sylvia the mail lady, was Sharlene's mother. And that Kenny was involved somehow, at least with Jim. I also knew that Marianne had killed Sister Erma by mistake while trying to poison Sharlene. Eeks. My skin crawled, thinking of it.

  But of course, all of this was on the word of a woman who had pretended to be a seventy-year-old mail lady for several months. Maybe I didn't really know those things.

  I sig
hed. My first inclination was to call Karen and tell her that I knew what happened to her grandma, but maybe I should wait on that.

  But, so then, where did June and Morley fit in? And Kenny? And how could everyone be tied to Kenny? And why? Right when I thought I had one mystery solved, more popped up. Clearly, sleep was not going to come tonight for a while. I pulled my laptop over to me. Might as well follow up on a few of my random theories.

  Two hours later, I stared at my computer screen, stunned. It had taken some digging, but I now knew that Kenny’s daughter, Maple, had been adopted. As in most of the cases from back then, the details were sealed. Interesting, but did it have any bearing on the situation?

  I closed my eyes and leaned back, rubbing circles on my temples. What was the connection? Was Marianne Maple’s mother? And she thought Kenny—no, that wouldn’t make any sense, because I guessed that Marianne and Maple were about the same age. But this had to come into play somehow. I knew it. But how?

  Morley and June. They were part of this. What had Kenny said to Morley that day in the hospital? If you and June would have left me alone to raise my daughter…. Hmm.

  I would have to go out there to Kenny's house. There was no other way around it. But Todd had not been able to talk the powers that be into gaining a search warrant. And I needed to know now. I wouldn't be able to sleep with all of this buzzing around in my brain. Besides, it was a warm, springy evening, and I wasn't going to break in the house or anything. I would just go scout it out. Maybe poke around in all of that junk of his while I was out there. I would be a good girl and wait until I could, as Todd said, “go through the proper channels.” Ha.

  Anyway, it wouldn't hurt to take a look, right? I could take Annie with me. And a flashlight. And my pepper spray. What could happen?

  Which is exactly what I asked myself later when I stopped by Kenny’s house. What if something terrible had happened in his barn? I couldn’t ignore the horror that had been in his eyes when he told me about it.