Alibis & Arranging

by Nancy McGovern

  “Oh, I see them walking around as though they’re entitled to a princess just for existing. At least in my day men were willing to slay dragons.” Hilda sniffed again. “This whole generation of men is too soft. That’s the problem.”

  ″Cheers to that.″ Teresa grinned, raising a glass of water. ″Dating is a hard game now.″

  “Oh, sure.” Ignoring Teresa, Russell caught Jonah’s eye and there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I suppose it’s our parents’ fault for not raising us men right.”

  “And the way they treat elders!” Hilda exclaimed, quite on a roll now. “Shameful. Absolute disgrace. We had some gratitude back in the day. How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child, indeed!”

  “Well, from what I remember of father, Lord rest his soul, he was never the dragon-slaying kind,” Russell said. “In fact, I’d say he had a great fondness for dragons.” His eyes twinkled more, and Aurora was sure Hilda realized he was subtly calling her a dragon.

  “Oh, especially the two-legged kind.” Jonah added in bluntly, confirming that he’d picked up on the slur, as well.

  “Russell’s father was a gentleman,” Hilda said, ignoring the barb. “Henry was a little old-fashioned in his views, but he was a good man, through and through. My other husbands were different. The first one was a crook who became a businessman. The second one was a good-looking cad who was smooth with words - oh, he taught me a lot of lessons. The third was a social climber - he was the mayor of Bent River twice. But Henry…was the best of the lot, let me tell you. He knew how to treat a woman, and he knew how to enjoy life.”

  “Well, I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear it,” Russell said.

  ″Did you know Henry all your life?″ Joy asked Hilda.

  ″Oh, he and Jonah's grandfather, Alex, came over after the great war. I was very young back then,″ Hilda explained. ″They started the farm, but Henry decided to make his fortune elsewhere - and he did much better than Alex, if I may say so.″ She clearly had to throw a barb back at Jonah.

  Jonah, keeping his temper admirably, said, ″So he did. But, then again, my grandfather said that the best things in life weren't related to money.″

  ″My advice to you.” Hilda locked eyes with Rosa. “Is to remember Henry. Keep him in mind.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rosa said.

  “Of course, you don’t.” Hilda looked suddenly conscious, as though she’d spoken too much. “Well, never mind. Let’s talk of more pleasant things. Milly! Next Course!”

  That was exactly what they did. The rest of the evening proceeded with the usual small talk and sharing of anecdotes that mark a good dinner party. The entree was a delicious roast rump of lamb with crushed potatoes and sauteed squashes, so tasty that it almost tempted Aurora to ask for a second helping. The weather was pleasant with spring slowly turning into summer, and the buzz of their conversations seemed to melt in with the crickets chirping around them.

  Yet, in hidden glances and a subtle coldness of the eyes, Aurora felt something unpleasant lurking beneath it all. She had a flashing image of a spider rubbing its limbs together before devouring its helplessly-tangled prey. And, even though she told herself it was just a fancy, she wondered what had put it in her head in the first place.

  The image faded away after a moment, but came back into Aurora’s mind two days later…at Hilda’s funeral.

  3

  A Quiet Death

  The funeral had a big turnout. Almost all of Bent River showed up to pay their respects. Hilda Braithwhite had been more of an institution than a mere person in Bent River. In the silences and bowed heads, Joy sensed more than regret at her passing, people were mourning the end of an era.

  Still, it wasn’t all grief. There were whispers of curiosity and raised eyebrows about the vast wealth Hilda had supposedly left behind. More than a few glances were cast at Max Goggins, who sat in one of the front rows dressed soberly in a black suit. As Hilda’s lawyer, Max had the dirt on what she’d left behind and to whom - but he sure wasn’t talking.

  People scattered across the church lawn after the services. Joy, who had a column to write for the Bent River Bulletin, skipped from group to group, trying to catch the gossip.

  “I heard the value’s in the eight figures.”

  “That house alone must be worth a million dollars.”

  “She had all those antiques, you know.”

  Then there were the stories of Hilda’s past.

  “Oh, I’ve seen photos of her. She was quite a beauty right up until she turned eighty. In her prime she was no less than a model.” This was Rita, a friend of Joy’s and an administrative assistant down at the police station.

  “I remember her well.” Aunt Giulia, who owned a cafe downtown smiled. “Pietro said she was his first crush.”

  “Oh, yes.” Uncle Pietro nodded. “I remember being at her…I think it was second…wedding. She looked like an angel walking down the aisle.”

  “Four marriages.” Aunt Giulia shook her head. “I wonder how she did it. I can barely handle this one.” She elbowed Pietro playfully.

  “You know, I think ‘handled’ is the right word.” Rita lowered her voice a little. “I mean…she was a widow four times over. Just between us, Chief Brooks was never very happy about some of those deaths. A little too coincidental.”

  Joy raised her eyebrow. “Are you saying—”

  “Well, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead,” Rita said, a little primly, “but she sure did receive some fat insurance settlements.”

  “I thought they’d throw her in the slammer for sure when Henry Braithwhite passed,” Aunt Giulia said. “Poor Russell.”

  “What do you mean?” Joy asked.

  “Well, there was something fishy about it all,” Aunt Giulia said. “Henry was twenty years her senior when they married, and she was no spring chicken even then. But she still had him chasing her.”

  “Henry always liked them young,” Pietro said. “Russell’s mom was thirty-five years younger than him, you know that? Henry spent years with her, then Hilda came along and whisked him away.”

  ″That's not entirely true,″ Rita said. ″Truth is, Henry always had his eye on Hilda, but she was never free - or maybe he was never rich enough when she was free. I think Hilda became something like a prize fish for Henry. The one woman he always wanted to possess and never could. Till he married her.″

  “Russell and his mom must not have been very happy about it,” Joy commented.

  “Well, Russell was smart enough never to burn any bridges,” Pietro said. “Especially after Henry died and willed everything over to Hilda. You’d think Russell was her son, the way he devoted himself to her after that.”

  “It can’t have been easy on him,” Joy said. “He must have had expectations from his father’s estate.”

  “He got a token sum and that was all.” Pietro shook his head. “But now…maybe now things will change.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Hilda was fond of her niece, Rosa,” Rita said, looking over her shoulder toward the church.

  Rosa stood at the entrance of the church, accepting condolences from the departing guests. Her face had a neutral expression on it and she looked rather pretty with a black shawl drawn around her shoulders and diamonds glittering at her ears.

  “Those are Hilda’s earrings you know,” Rita whispered. “Rosa sure didn’t waste any time.”

  ″And why should she?″ Aunt Giulia asked. ″Poor Rosa has been under Hilda's thumb since she was a child. It was really something, the way Hilda bossed her around. Rosa's a delicate, dreamy sort. She didn't have the spine to stand up to her. Now, maybe she can live her own life.″

  “But what were you saying earlier?” Joy asked. “About Henry’s death?”

  “Well, you’re too young to remember,” Rita said. “He was already eighty then. They say he accidentally overdosed on his own medicine. Not all at once, either. Apparently he tended to forget whether he had taken them and
would often have twice the dose. He did it once too often and phut…his heart gave out.”

  “And Chief Brooks was suspicious?”

  “Everyone was suspicious,” Rita said. “But there was really no proof. Hilda…well…she was not the kind of woman you could accuse outright, you know.”

  “Why not?” Joy asked.

  Rita and Aunt Giulia shared a look. “A lot of the foundations here in town were funded by Hilda. She was always smart that way. She liked people kowtowing to her, and she knew how to buy it. Annoying her meant risking the status quo. Heck, the annual charity drive for our local hospital was mostly bankrolled by her. So was the policemen's ball.”

  “Well, that wouldn’t affect an investigation, surely?”

  “No…but it meant Chief Brooks had to be delicate with the proceedings. Plus, when he couldn’t find enough proof, the prosecutor refused to move forward. So the case was closed.”

  “Well, I suppose someone up there will decide her fate now.” Aunt Giulia crossed herself. “We’ll see you on Sunday for dinner, Rita.” She and Uncle Pietro said their goodbyes and left, leaving Rita and Joy alone.

  “You know,” Rita said, watching them leave. “What your aunt said about someone up there deciding her fate…well…I wonder.”

  Joy raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning maybe someone down here decided it instead.” Rita gave Joy a look.

  Rita had been a good source for a lot of Joy’s articles. They’d developed a rapport over the years, and Joy knew exactly what that look meant.

  “There’s something about the way she died, isn’t there?” Joy asked. “Something’s got the chief’s antenna up?”

  “Well, it’s tough because she was so old,” Rita said. “But...”

  “But?”

  “Well, no one is exactly sure. But if you happen to hear something interesting…be sure to pass it on, would you?”

  “Interesting? Interesting how?”

  “I don’t know.” Rita sighed. “None of us do, really. But it is strange that she died the same way Henry did. An overdose of her own medicine.”

  “Wha—”

  “Shh.” Rita squeezed Joy’s hand. “Dont’ make a big production of it.”

  “But surely Chief Brooks should open up a—”

  “He has. But quietly,” Rita confirmed. “We’re really not sure about anything. Hilda was on pain medication for the last two years after she cracked her spine in a nasty fall in the bathroom. It’s sad, really, if it truly was an accident. Around 70,000 people die of accidental overdoses of prescribed medication each year. It’s especially common when people get old and forgetful.”

  “Ah.”

  “Besides…” Rita hesitated. “Even if it wasn’t an accident, perhaps it was a guilty conscience.”

  “Hilda?” Joy shook her head. “Not a chance.”

  “How can you be so sure? Perhaps all these years later, in the twilight of her life, she regretted what she did to Henry.”

  “Hilda had no intention of dying,” Joy said. “When I met her for dinner two days ago, she hired Aurora to help her organize all her files. She had a project planned, and she was perfectly talkative and cheerful throughuot dinner, if a little brusque. She had no intention of killing herself, I can tell you that right now.”

  “But death was at her doorstep already, then.” Rita shook her head. “A pity.”

  “Maybe so.” Joy’s mind was already racing. ″Or maybe evil was at her doorstep.″

  4

  Cleaning Up

  “You want me to what?” Aurora stared at Joy, blinking rapidly.

  “I’ve set it all up,” Joy said. “I’ve talked to Rosa, and she agreed that this is what Aunt Hilda wanted. Plus, she can’t possibly handle cleaning out the estate herself. You start Monday!”

  “Did you ever think to ask me whether I’d enjoy poking around in a dead woman’s home?” Aurora crossed her arms over her chest. “Honestly, Joy, you overstepped a bit.”

  “Come on, you know you want to do it. I’m only helping you,” Joy wheedled. “What about that idea for a cleaning company you’ve been talking about? Making Spaces, you were going to call it.”

  Aurora blushed. “I’d had too much wine that night and you know it. It’s a stupid idea. Nobody’s going to pay me to clean out their closets and garages. Not in Bent River. People don’t have that kind of cash to spare.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Joy said. “There’s a lot of affluence hidden behind frugality here. Plus, we have so many towns within an hour’s drive. If you start out now, who knows what kind of a business you’d have in ten years.”

  Aurora was tempted to believe it. That was the thing about Joy. She had a knack for taking people’s dreams and making them seem achievable.

  “It can’t happen.” Aurora sighed. “I’ll do this as a favor to you, but I’m pretty sure this is going nowhere.”

  “Boy, did you get out of bed with that loser attitude today or is it hard-baked in?” Joy sneered.

  Aurora flushed. She liked Joy for a lot of reasons, but her bluntness hadn’t quite grown on her yet. “And what about you?” Aurora asked, a little heatedly. “You’re up to something, I know you are. This is about that book, isn’t it? You’re hoping I get some scoop on Hilda while cleaning up and then you can write about it.”

  Joy grinned boldly, not denying it. “Well, that would be a win-win, wouldn’t it?” For a brief moment, Joy wondered if she should tell Aurora about her conversation with Rita. Then she decided against it. She had promised confidentiality, after all.

  “So you are doing it for this hypothetical biography? Really, Joy, you’re a shark sometimes.”

  “Sometimes? I’m a shark all the time.” Joy winked. “You’re supposed to meet Rosa at three o’clock at Cafe Ricci’s today. She’ll discuss the rest with you. Enjoy!”

  Three o’clock came faster than Aurora expected. Bidding her boss an early goodbye, Aurora swung on a jacket and headed down the street to the cafe. Cafe Ricci’s was run by Joy’s large, booming-voiced uncle, Pietro, and his wife, Giulia. Like Bent River, the cafe was tiny. Ten tables were neatly lined up in two rows in a rectangular room. The doors were at one end and the register and baked goods display at the other. Yet it was the social hub of the town, crowded no matter the hour. Everyone knew where to head for the best tiramisu and gossip.

  “Oh hello, sweetie.” Aunt Giulia came out from behind the counter and kissed Aurora on both cheeks. “Have you skipped lunch again? You’re looking thin.”

  “Er…we had some meetings—”

  “Tell Max I’ll be wanting some meetings with him myself if he doesn’t stop working you so hard. Now go sit down. I’ll bring you some things.” Aunt Giulia pushed her toward a table in the corner. It seemed to take Aurora fifteen minutes to make the three steps through the sea of other patrons of the cafe wanting to chat and make small talk.

  By the time she sat down at the table, Aunt Giulia had appeared with strong coffee and a triple decker sandwich filled with veggies, brie and chicken salad.

  “And make sure you finish it all,” she said over her shoulder as she left.

  Aurora felt a little glow in her heart. She and Joy might still have their differences, but Joy’s extended family had virtually adopted her. Since she’d helped catch Chip Goggins’ true murderer, they seemed to look upon her both as a savior and a waif to be looked after. Casseroles would regularly appear in her fridge and she was invited to all sorts of family lunches, dinners and barbecues. Aunt Giulia had even tried to set her up with one of Joy’s cousins, an endeavor Aurora had nimbly side-stepped. Someone else would have chafed under the familiarity - and Aurora did feel awkward at times - but, overall, she loved it. After her mother had passed away, there was nobody Aurora could call her own. Growing up, too, it had just been Aurora and her mother. She’d dreamed as a child of having a family all to herself, and Bent River had given her what she wanted. Sometimes she missed the bustle of New Yo
rk, but never did she second guess moving here.

  “Aurora? Hi!” Rosa sat down across from her, decked out in a peacock-blue shawl embroidered with mirror-work. “Sorry I’m late. I keep losing track of time when I work.”

  “Oh, Max is the same way.” Aurora smiled. “How are you holding up? I was so sorry to hear about Hilda’s passing.”

  “I miss her,” Rosa admitted with a sigh. “But I suppose it was her time to go. Honestly, I’d say there are no regrets. She had a long, interesting life and the end came quickly with little pain. That’s exactly how I want to go, when the time comes. I want to be as alert as she was till my dying day.” Rosa shrugged. “Weird, right? Instead of grief, I feel happy she went this way. She would have hated to have declined physically and mentally, I think. Though she was already going downhill a little by the end.”

  “Oh?” Aurora didn’t know what to say, but thought maybe Rosa needed to let it all out.

  “Yeah.” Rosa let ouot a long breath. “Lately, the last few months, she’d call me every other week about a missing puppy.” She rolled her eyes.

  “A missing puppy?” Aurora wrinkled her brow, confused.

  “Well, there’s this hideous, old statue her husband Henry had bought her during one of their trips, Lithuania or something. It’s a ceramic statue of a beagle pup with imitation gems in the eyes and collar. It’s about this big.” Rosa widened her hands so there were about six inches between them, as though she were showing off a fish.

  “And she said it was missing?”

  “Every other week. Then I’d come over, we’d search the whole house, she’d accuse Milly of being a thief and, eventually, she’d find the darn thing herself in some corner or another.”

  “Huh,” Aurora said. “Curious.”

  “Jonah thought she’d hide it herself because she liked the attention,” Rosa said. “I’m not so sure, though. I mean, Hilda did like attention but she wasn’t prone to hysteria. She was quite…proper. I don’t know why I’m telling you stupid things like that. What I came here to talk to you about was the house. Joy said you’d help, and I’d really appreciate it. I’ll pay whatever Hilda had promised you, of course,” Rosa said. “But it would also be good to get all the documentation in order.”