Dagger in Dahlias

by Dale Mayer

  Doreen’s mind was trying to fit the pieces together. The trouble was, she didn’t have enough pieces. What if Penny had shot Hornby? What if Penny thought Hornby had killed Johnny, and she’d shot Hornby, hoping he’d crash and kill himself?

  “Guys, once again Mack would be shaking his head at me.” In her mind she could hear him clearly. For fun she tried to imitate his voice in a comical way. “Doreen, we can’t go around making assumptions or wild guesses. We need proof.”

  Mugs woofed several times.

  She chuckled, got up from her laptop, and poured herself another cup of coffee. She sat back down and researched Hornby and then Penny. She was younger than her husband, younger than Hornby too. Penny might have been closer in age to Susan or that other girl in Johnny’s group. Yet Penny said she didn’t know about any girl but Susan. As Doreen’s searches failed to give her any leads, one question she had been trying to answer resurfaced once more: who was that second girl in Johnny’s group?

  She called Nan. “Would you mind asking your friend Richie who his great-niece’s girlfriend was during the time of Johnny’s disappearance,” she said. “I understand the three guys hung out with Susan, but I thought another girl did too.”

  “Good morning to you,” Nan said in a delighted twitter. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes.” And, like Nan was prone to do, which was great, she hung up without needing any further explanation.

  Doreen sipped her coffee and continued to research Penny but found nothing out of the ordinary. Penny and George had been married for a long time. And, outside of some volunteer work she was involved in at a church’s Christmas bazaar or some fund-raiser, Penny’s name didn’t show up very often. Doreen thought about who else she could contact from back then, but there wasn’t anyone. She sent Mack a text and asked if there was any reason for Penny to have up and left.

  When the phone rang, she assumed it was Mack. But instead it was Nan.

  “Her name was Julie,” she said. “But we’re not sure what her last name was. Her parents lived across from the Hornbys in the same cul-de-sac.”

  “That makes sense. The kids lived next door to each other,” Doreen said. “But how am I supposed to find out what her last name is?”

  “You can probably check the land title records,” Nan said. “Or you could ask Mack.” On that note, she went off on a peal of laughter and hung up.

  “Ask Mack,” Doreen repeated. “Well, that’s not helpful.”

  She brought up a map of Kelowna, zoomed in on the cul-de-sac where Penny and Hornby had lived and came up with an address for the house across from Hornby’s childhood home. Because they were both on the corner of the cul-de-sac, it was pretty easy to tell which house it was. At least she hoped.

  Just then Goliath laid across her keyboard. She groaned and dragged him off to cuddle him. Finally she picked up her cell phone.

  How would I find out who lived at this address 29 years ago? She typed into a text, adding the address, and fired it off to Mack.

  After she sent it, she wondered if he would get fed up with her questions. She went to the internet and typed in that address to see who was on the current registry. But it wasn’t online. That database was unavailable. She thought it should be available. Now if anybody wanted to check all of Doreen’s private information, she might have something different to say. But it was frustrating to be close to answers but not able to get the real ones.

  Whoever this Julie was, she was important to the case. If for no other reason that she might be the last one of the girls alive—or the last one alive period. With Hornby shot and in hospital, as much as Doreen didn’t like the man, she didn’t want to hear he had died from his wounds. This Julie person was the only other one with possibly any answers as to what had happened so long ago. If Julie was even still alive.

  Mack’s answer came back. Willoughby.

  She grinned and typed in the name Julie Willoughby on her search window. And up popped all kinds of articles. Poor Julie had had a rough life. She was arrested in one article, apparently for breaking and entering when she turned eighteen. A group of kids had had a wild party, drank too much, and then somehow thought it was a good idea to break into one of the neighbors’ homes. But no mention was made of the other kids in the group.

  A few other articles mentioned Julie, but they didn’t yield anything new. And, in the last few years, nothing was said about her.

  Doreen sighed, then wondered if the Willoughbys were still living here. She sent Mack a question. Is the same family still living there?

  She had to wait for more answers. Goliath slid to the floor, bored.

  She got up and checked the fridge because, by now, she was starving again. She pulled out some cheese and crackers, knowing they would have pasta for dinner again. She figured she’d survive on this quite nicely.

  He sent back a simple text. Yes.

  She crowed. “Okay, guys. Road trip again.”

  She finished her cheese and crackers and grabbed Mugs’s leash. Goliath joined them at the door. Thaddeus wanted a ride. She led the way out the backyard again and up the creek to the cul-de-sac. Penny’s house was still dark. Hornby’s house was dark also, but the house across from it, the Willoughbys’ house, had lights on.

  Doreen walked up to the front door, Thaddeus on her shoulder, Goliath strolling behind her at his pace, and Mugs sat at her heels. When the door opened, a woman answered.

  Doreen looked at her and smiled. “Don’t suppose you’re Julie Willoughby, are you?”

  The woman looked at her in surprise. “Yes, I am. Who are you?”

  “I’m Doreen. Nan is my grandmother,” she said by way of explanation. It seemed to her all the townsfolk knew who Nan was.

  Julie’s face brightened. “How is Nan?” she asked affectionately.

  “She’s doing just fine,” she said. “I have a few questions, if you’ve got a moment.”

  The woman opened the door. “Sure, come on in.”

  Doreen hesitated at the doorway. “What about my animals?”

  Julie’s gaze widened as she took in Thaddeus. Then she saw the cat and the dog, and she laughed. “Now I know who you are,” she said. “You’re the bone lady.” She waved all the animals inside. “Come on in. I was just sitting down to a muffin. Would you like one?”

  “Yes, I would,” Doreen said. “Thank you.” Seated at the kitchen table, she said, “I wanted to ask you a few questions about Johnny’s death.”

  The woman looked at her in surprise. “Johnny?”

  “Johnny,” Doreen said. “Johnny Jordan. Your neighbor’s younger brother.”

  Julie sat back, as if the shock was more than she expected. “Oh, that’s definitely not a period of my life I talk about very much.”

  “Understood,” Doreen said. “Do you know Penny very well?”

  Julie nodded. “Well, not only are we neighbors but Johnny and I used to be good friends.”

  “Of course. Penny asked me to look into Johnny’s disappearance. I came over here this morning to ask her a few questions again, but she’s not home.”

  “I just saw her yesterday morning,” Julie said.

  “One of your neighbors said she took a suitcase and left last night,” Doreen said. “I presume she’s gone on an overnight trip somewhere.”

  Julie stared out the window at the house across the street. “I always wondered what went on in that house. George and Penny seemed to be so happy that it was almost sickening, but that was to hide the truth.”

  “What truth?” Doreen asked in confusion.

  “Nobody is that happily married. I used to ask Johnny about it. He’d laugh and say that’s who they were.”

  “A sickening-sweet, happy, loving couple?” Doreen asked. That had been her impression from what Penny had said.

  “No. A fighting, backstabbing, very unhappily married couple,” Julie corrected. “One of the reasons I spent as much time as I did with Johnny was so he could get away from the place.”

 
That took Doreen a moment to digest. She didn’t want to think Penny’s marriage had been so bad that Johnny had just wanted to get away from it all …

  “You have no idea where he disappeared to?” Doreen asked slowly, tilting her head to study the woman across from her. She was older than Doreen, younger than Nan, caught somewhere in a time loop. Her hair was in a bun at the back, but it oddly suited her. “Are you an artist?”

  The woman laughed and nodded. “I am. How did I give myself away?”

  “You have a very creative look to you,” Doreen said with a smile. “I don’t suppose you have any paintings of Johnny from back then, do you?”

  Julie shook her head. “No. I didn’t start painting until later.”

  “What caused you to go in that direction?”

  “Losing Johnny,” Julie admitted. “I loved him dearly. But I wasn’t part of the in crowd. Like Hornby, I was more or less in the outside circle.”

  “Hornby was in an accident last night.” She watched Julie’s reaction carefully. The color drained from her skin.

  “He was what?” She switched her gaze to Hornby’s house across the road from her.

  “I gather you know him well too?”

  “Of course,” she said. “We’re all tied to the events of so long ago. But we’re hardly friends.”

  “And you have no idea what happened to Johnny?”

  Julie shook her head. “No, of course not. If I had any idea, I’d have spoken up. For a long time I wondered if it was Hornby.”

  “You mean that Hornby might have killed him?”

  “Well, no doubt Johnny is dead,” she said, “because I know for a fact that he would have contacted me.”

  “Why is that?” Doreen asked.

  “Because he loved me,” she said simply. “We were going to run away together and start a whole new life, but he disappeared.”

  “Do you think he might have run away without you?” Doreen asked, hesitating to put the thought into words.

  “Lots of people asked me that,” she said with a sweet smile. “But, no, that’s not what happened. I knew him too well. Besides, he could have just told me that he would go and come back for me. We were supposed to meet that evening and make plans, but he never showed up.”

  “How long was it from when you last talked to him and then when you were to meet him? What kind of time frame was that?”

  “An hour,” Julie said quietly. “An hour tops. If I had just walked across this yard and spoken to him at the back of Penny’s place, there’s a good chance nothing would have happened to him. But we were going to meet at the park in an hour. I got there a little early. But saw no sign of Johnny. I walked around to Penny’s backyard and looked over the fence and called for him. But there was no sign of him. I never saw him again.”

  Chapter 23

  Sunday Late Morning …

  Doreen stood outside Julie’s house, studying the Hornby place, thinking about the triangle between Hornby, Johnny, and Julie. Definitely something had been going on here. Julie thought maybe Hornby was part of it.

  As Doreen walked down the steps, the door opened again behind her. Julie leaned against the doorjamb and frowned at her. “Do you think Hornby had something to do with Johnny’s disappearance?”

  “I don’t know,” Doreen said. “I have my suspicions. But without a body …” She shrugged. “I don’t know that there’s anything we can do about it. What would be the motive?”

  “Me,” she said bleakly. “Hornby wanted me, and I had made it very clear I wasn’t interested. Johnny was the perfect person for me. We had a fantastic future all mapped out.” She glared at Hornby’s house. “I always wondered. But I never could figure out how or why.”

  “I had guessed somebody arranged to meet him in the park,” Doreen said, “like you mentioned.”

  “I did arrange to meet him,” Julie said. “But he wasn’t there, and he never showed up.”

  Doreen knew she had no reason to believe Julie, but there was just something—that note of desperation to Julie’s need to look for answers—that Doreen trusted. “So far the only suspicious character in all of this is Hornby, but he’s just been shot and in a car accident. So if somebody really hated him …”

  “Not just somebody,” Julie said. “Everybody.”

  “Tell me more,” Doreen said invitingly. They still stood on the front steps. “Did George and Penny know about your relationship with Johnny?”

  “No,” Julie said. “We kept it private. Johnny didn’t think they’d approve, since he’d recently broken up with Susan. But we’d liked each other before that. He didn’t want to hurt Susan, so their relationship limped along longer than it should have. As soon as they split, we hooked up.”

  “Thank you for sharing that. I’m looking for something important, and I can’t quite figure out what it is.” Mugs wandered into the garden beside her. Doreen immediately shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out a poopie bag. “I hope you don’t mind.” She motioned at Mugs.

  Julie looked into her garden bed and chuckled. “No. A dog has gotta do what a dog has gotta do.”

  Grateful for that attitude, Doreen walked behind Mugs, waited until he did his business, then carefully scooped it all up, making sure she got the pieces of bark mulch that had a little bit of the droppings with it. She turned to walk to the garbage cans. “May I put the bag in one of your cans?”

  Julie waved her hand at them. “Go ahead.”

  “Thank you so much. I don’t know when your garbage is picked up, but I’m hoping this won’t stink too badly.” She walked toward the cans.

  “For the longest time, we didn’t have to worry about garbage collection. The garbage truck driver for this area lived across from me,” she said with a laugh, pointing at the house across the cul-de-sac. “Sometimes he’d even make special trips just for us.”

  Doreen stared over at Hornby’s house and then back at her. “Hornby?”

  “No, not Alan,” she said. “His dad. That’s what I meant about for the longest time but not anymore as his dad is retired now.”

  “Wow though. That would have been helpful. I have all kinds of stuff I’ll be getting rid of. How convenient to have a garbage truck accessible.”

  “Absolutely,” Julie said. “My mother was forever putting out pieces of junk furniture, and he’d take them away for her. The rules have all changed now, and the city is stricter about that stuff.”

  “Did he ever take the garbage truck home?”

  Julie chuckled. “He wasn’t supposed to, but sure he did. Sometimes I think he did that to help out the neighborhood, so the residents could throw extra garbage in. He was very, very conscientious. Although the city wanted forty hours a week from him, I swear he gave them forty-eight every week.” She smiled.

  “Is he still around?”

  “Oh, sure,” she said. “He’s down at one of the old folks’ homes. He’s getting on now. Not sure how old he is, but he’s gotta be close to ninety. He’s heading toward a hospice, last I heard.” She frowned. “Honestly, he might have already passed away. I don’t know. And that would be a sad day. He was a good man.”

  “Did you guys ever get to ride around with him?” Doreen asked.

  “Well, his son often did,” she said with a big grin. “And Mr. Hornby did take us around one Halloween. We were pretending to be garbage men.” She chuckled. “I think we were only about ten or so. Then we thought our buddy Alan had the best dad in the world.”

  “I bet,” Doreen said, chuckling. “I guess you don’t remember if he ever brought the truck home the summer Johnny went missing, huh?”

  “Johnny wouldn’t have taken off in it, if that’s what you’re thinking. Johnny couldn’t drive it. It was big and cranky. Alan used to operate the levers for his dad sometimes. But it was never a smooth, sleek model. In fact, Mr. Hornby protested getting one of the newfangled trucks,” she said, grinning at the memories. “He much preferred the old ones. Said all that new computerized wizardry w
ould break down.”

  “Right. Still how convenient for you,” Doreen said with envy, thinking of her crowded house. “Did you guys ever run over and put extra garbage in?”

  She nodded. “My mum did. You could fill the bin in the back, and then it would get mushed up the next time he’d put stuff in. Back then the trucks weren’t very sophisticated.”

  “Right. Back then you had a different landfill system than we do now.” Doreen had yet to go to the Glenmore Landfill that serviced all the Kelowna area, but she’d heard it had gotten much more high-tech in the last few years. The new landfill was at a totally different location too. The old landfill had been reclaimed, with a new subdivision built atop it. The new location was bigger and had space for recycling.

  “Yes,” Julie said. “Back then we barely had anything like we do now, which is probably really too bad because a lot of the stuff we tossed could have been recycled.”

  “So he’d drive the truck, collect garbage, take it to the dump, and drop it all in?”

  “Usually,” Julie said. “There was always heavy equipment to move the garbage around, and then some of garbage would get burned.”

  “That makes sense,” Doreen said slowly. Then a horrible idea filled her mind. She gave a final wave. “Thanks very much. If you see Penny return, could you tell her to give me a ring please?”

  Julie gave a wave and walked back into her house, closing the door.

  Doreen wondered how Julie would feel about Doreen’s current theory.

  She headed to Hornby’s house and knocked on the door. No answer. She brought out her phone and called Mack as she headed toward the creek.

  “I have a working theory on what happened to Johnny,” she said. “The trouble is, twenty-nine years later, it’ll be damn-near impossible to confirm it.”

  “Oh?” he said in a lazy voice. “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

  She snorted. “Well, I’m not telling you then. Can you tell me who is living in the Hornby house now?”

  “Your grandmother can answer a part of that question or at least get the answer,” he said. “Old Man Hornby was our local garbage collector forever, since eons ago, and he’s a resident at Rosemoor now.”