Phyllis peered at him curiously. “What did you need to talk to her about?”
Ruben put a fist to his lips and cleared his throat. “You know, I can’t remember anymore.” His voice seemed to rise an octave.
Char glanced at Hazel, wondering if she was getting a reading on the guy. It seemed to Char that he wasn’t being forthcoming with what he knew.
Hazel acted nonchalant, as if she weren’t even paying attention to the conversation.
“Okay, so you went around to the back. And where did you find her body?” asked Gwyn.
“She was just lying by the entrance to her garden. It was obvious she’d been there for quite a while. I’m surprised an animal didn’t get to her or something. She smelled horrible, and her body was all bloated and grotesque.” His tone got lighter then. “I’ve had some nightmares about it, to be honest.”
Gwyn rubbed his arm. “Oh, you poor man. I’m sure that was extremely difficult. It’s difficult for us as her friends just thinking about it.”
He nodded and then whispered, “Thank you.”
“Ruben, did Kat have anything with her when you found her? Like maybe lying on the ground next to her or something?” asked Gwyn.
“Like what?” He peered out through his long, dark eyelashes at the women.
“I don’t know. Anything. A book, perhaps,” suggested Gwyn.
He made a face as he tried to recall exactly what he had seen. “Not that I remember. I didn’t see anything. Of course, I wasn’t really in the mind-set of looking around. I’d just found a dead body on my route. I’d found a friend dead. I knew I needed to get the police called immediately. So that was really my only concern.”
Char patted him on the back. “You did the right thing, Ruben.”
“Yeah,” he said, getting a little choked up. “I felt really horrible finding my friend like that. Kat was a nice woman. She kept to herself mostly, but she always had time for me.”
“She really was a nice woman,” agreed Char. “We’ll all miss her.”
Phyllis peered at him curiously. “So did you happen to take anything of hers after she died?”
His demeanor shifted when he looked at Phyllis. “Take anything? No. I didn’t take anything. I’m not a thief.” Ruben looked at all of the women’s faces then. “Is that why you’re here? You think I took something of Kat’s?”
“Don’t go getting your dander up,” snapped Phyllis. “We just wanted to find out what happened to our friend. You were the first person who discovered her body, so we’re starting with you.”
Ruben lifted both hands in a shrug. “I don’t know what you want to know, but I’ve told you everything I know. I’m sorry about your friend.” He opened the door behind him. “I need to go.”
“Okay, well, thank you for visiting with us,” said Gwyn before turning to walk away first.
The rest of the women said a simple goodbye and followed her down the sidewalk and back to the car. Once inside, they all turned to Hazel in the backseat.
“Well? What did you make of him?” asked Char.
“Yeah, what did you think?” asked Phyllis.
Hazel crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, look who’s the popular girl now,” she said with a crooked smile.
“Mother. Please. Just tell us what you know,” begged Gwyn.
Hazel lifted her brows. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Gwynnie.”
“Better than that?”
“I want French fries for breakfast all week,” said Hazel staunchly.
“All week? Mother, that’s so unhealthy!”
She closed her eyes and shrugged. “It’s what I want.”
Gwyn sighed, slumping forward in her seat. She glanced up at the girls who nodded their heads encouragingly. “You can have them tomorrow.”
“Four days,” Hazel countered.
“Three days.”
“Deal!” she said, holding out her hand out for her daughter to shake.
Gwyn shook her mother’s hand. “Now tell us what you figured out.”
Hazel smiled at them. “He does not have the book.”
“I thought he was telling the truth about that, too,” said Phyllis knowingly.
“What else did you figure out?” asked Char.
Hazel looked at her curiously. “What am I? A mathematician? You said you just wanted to know if he had the book! You didn’t tell me I was supposed to listen to the rest of that gobbledygook.”
Char swiveled back around in her seat to face the windshield again. “You seriously weren’t paying attention to any of that conversation? The man was obviously withholding something.”
Phyllis nodded. “That whole thing about being friends with Kat. What was that about?”
“I don’t know, but he didn’t seem to want his wife to know that he was friends with Kat,” she said, air-quoting the words friends. “The only reason I know of that a man would want to hide a friendship from his wife is if there’s some hanky-panky going on,” said Char with a little chuckle.
Gwyn sucked in her breath. “You don’t think Kat and Ruben … ?!”
“Say it, Gwynnie. It’s not a dirty word,” said Hazel.
“Oh, Mother,” she gasped.
“Say it!”
“Mother, please!” Gwyn’s cheeks reddened.
“Say it, and I’ll tell you what else I know!”
“Oh, for goodness sake, you don’t think that Kat and Ruben had sex, do you?”
Hazel threw her hands up to the ceiling. “Hallelujah, my daughter knows how to say the S-word!” She leaned over and whispered to her, “Now see if you can do it next time without blushing.”
“I’ll try, Mother,” Gwyn said, rolling her eyes. “Now what do you know?”
“Well. I really wasn’t paying much attention to that entire conversation, but I did hear him thinking that he hoped we wouldn’t find out.”
“Find out what?” asked Char, swiveling around in her seat again.
“If I knew that, don’t you think I would have included it?” asked Hazel.
Gwyn leaned back in her seat and cupped her chin. “Now I’m really curious what he doesn’t want us to find out. If he doesn’t have the book, then what else is he hiding?”
“This is turning into a bigger mystery than we originally thought,” said Phyllis. “Maybe we need to talk to the Aspen Falls Police Department and see if there was anything suspicious about Ruben Moreno finding Kat’s body.”
Gwyn looked at her watch. “I still have a half an hour left of my lunch break. Let’s go.”
Char drove the women to the Aspen Falls Police Station, where they all unpiled from the car. Inside, a small waiting room fronted a plexiglass window with a speaker embedded in it.
“May I help you?” asked the man in blue behind the window. He had big bushy black eyebrows, a solemn expression on his face, and a name tag that read Officer Vargas.
Gwyn approached the window first. “We’d like to talk to someone about our friend’s death.”
“Name, please?” he asked.
“Katherine Lynde,” she said.
“Not the deceased’s name, your name, ma’am,” said the police officer.
Gwyn giggled and glanced back at her friends. “Oh. I’m Gwyndolin Prescott.”
“Just a moment,” he said and switched off the microphone. He dialed a number and spoke into the phone. Seconds later he flipped the microphone and speaker back on. “You can come on back. I’ll have you talk to the detective.” He pushed a buzzer, and the door to the right unlocked.
Gwyn opened the door and let Hazel, Char, and Phyllis go first. Officer Vargas led the women through the station to a door on the right. He poked his head in. “Gwyndolin Prescott and friends to see you about their friend’s death.”
The man behind the desk nodded and the women filed in.
Detective Mark Whitman sat behind his desk eating a burger and fries. He was a broad-shouldered man with dark wavy hair and a thick mustache and bore
a striking resemblance to Tom Selleck. He wore a khaki-colored blazer over a white button-down shirt and no tie. His top two buttons were undone, and a thick mound of dark, curly chest hair spewed out.
“Good afternoon, Detective Whitman,” said Char as she breezed in first.
His mouth was full when he stood up to greet the women. “Char, Phyllis, what are you two doing here?” he asked through his food.
“Detective Whitman, this is Gwyndolin and Hazel Prescott,” introduced Phyllis. “We went to college with Gwyn. Hazel is her mother.”
Detective Whitman’s eyes smiled warmly at the two women. “It’s a pleasure,” he said. “What brings you in to see me today?”
“We’ve come to inquire about the death of our friend, Katherine Lynde,” said Gwyn, leaning on the seat back of her mother’s chair.
He nodded. “Yes, Ms. Lynde. That wasn’t that long ago. I remember the case well. What can I help you with?”
Char looked at her friends. She wasn’t really sure what kind of information they were looking for, besides wanting to find the spell book. Char felt kind of silly now saying they’d confronted Ruben Moreno at his house.
Phyllis piped up first. “Ruben Moreno found her body, correct?”
Detective Whitman wiped a smudge of mayonnaise from the side of his mouth. “That’s correct.”
“Was there anything suspicious about him finding her body?”
“Suspicious?” He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the four women curiously. “What do you mean?”
Phyllis shrugged and leaned back in her seat. “I don’t know. Does he seem like an honest guy to you?”
Detective Whitman made a face. “Ruben Moreno has been in the community for a number of years. There’s nothing suspicious about him. It’s unfortunate he had to discover Ms. Lynde’s body like that, but I didn’t suspect foul play or anything if that’s what you’re asking. Her head was on a rock when she was discovered, and the damage to her skull was consistent with that kind of head trauma.”
“Was Ruben questioned at all?” asked Gwyn.
“My officers spoke to him regarding his usual route. There really wasn’t much else we needed to know from him. Is there a problem?”
Char looked at the girls. “I trust Detective Whitman. I think we can tell him what’s going on.”
Gwyn nodded, silently giving her the go-ahead.
Char turned back to Detective Whitman. “Kat left us her house and all its contents,” began Char. “Years ago, we were given a spell book by our old headmistress. It’s been a source of tension between our little group all these years, and now that Kat’s gone and she’s left us the house, we’d like to find the book.”
“But it’s missing,” said Phyllis, cutting to the chase.
“Missing,” he began. “And you’re sure that Ms. Lynde had the book before she passed?”
Gwyn leaned her head to the side. “We’re fairly sure. Honestly, we can’t prove she had the book. We kind of think that perhaps she died after doing a spell in her garden.”
A small smile played around Detective Whitman’s mouth. “Yes, my officers told me about the cauldron in the center of her garden. I wondered if a spell wasn’t involved.”
“It’s possible she had the book outside with her, and someone took it after her death,” explained Char.
He leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “Ahh, now I understand. You’re looking for your spell book.”
“Obviously we want to know if there’s anything else suspicious going on,” said Phyllis.
“You think something else suspicious is going on?”
“We went to see Ruben,” admitted Char.
“And he seemed shady as an oak tree if you ask us,” clucked Phyllis, leaning back in her seat.
Detective Whitman’s fingers went to his temples. “You ladies went to see Mr. Moreno?” he asked. It was clear by his expression that that admission surprised him. “To see if he had the book?”
Gwyn nodded.
“And did he have it?”
“No,” said Char as she cast a glance towards Hazel, who was sitting quietly with her hands folded in her lap like a proper old woman. “And we have strong reason to believe that he was telling the truth.”
“I see. So the problem is…?”
Phyllis put her elbows on Detective Whitman’s desk and leaned towards him. “The problem is, he said he had a relationship with Kat. He told us!”
“What kind of relationship?”
Phyllis shrugged. “He didn’t say. But it seemed strange. Like he didn’t want his wife to know.”
“But it could have just been a friendly relationship,” suggested the detective.
“Well, yes, but it seemed like there was more to it,” said Phyllis.
“Let me ask you this. Do you think Mr. Moreno had something to do with your friend’s death? Is that what this is really about?”
Gwyn sucked in her breath. “Oh no. I don’t think we’re accusing Ruben of anything like that. He just seemed, I don’t know…off.”
Detective Whitman nodded and sat forward in his seat. “Well. You don’t think he took your book. You don’t think he killed Ms. Lynde. I’m not really sure how I can help you. It’s not illegal to be off.”
Char sighed. Hearing all their suspicions out loud now, they really did sound silly. She cleared her throat. “Did the police find the book? Maybe they took it into evidence or something?”
He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. I’m sorry, ladies. I wish I could help you more.”
Char exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “So do we, Detective. So do we.”
15
“You should put on a sweater, Mom,” suggested Gwyn as she combed her hair in their small shared bathroom later that evening. “It’s supposed to be cool tonight.”
Hazel scowled as she hobbled over to the faded floral armchair under the window in the living room. The chair had become her new favorite, and after only a day or two in the retirement village, she’d quickly laid claim to it.
“I don’t understand why you’re making me go with you.”
Gwyn put down her brush and peered out the doorway at her mother. “You’re the one who always wants to have fun. I plan something fun, and now you don’t want to go?”
“You act like watching water falling is fun. If I wanted to look at water falling, I’d turn on the faucet,” complained Hazel as she tried to lower herself into the chair.
“Oh, Mom. The fresh air and the exercise will do you some good.” Gwyn touched a bit of lipstick to her lips as she peered into the mirror. It was the first time she’d caught her reflection in anything all day, and she was horrified by what she saw. When she tilted her head down, the horrible fluorescent lighting in the bathroom magnified the dark rings beneath her eyes. She pulled back the skin just above her eyes, and it lifted the lower half of her face. She silently wished it would just stay like that all day. Someone should invent clips for your face, she thought to herself. Hmm, I’ll have to Google that later. With her thumbs, Gwyn prodded at the flesh at the base of her jaw and pushed it back towards her earlobes. The wrinkles below her mouth and at her chin vanished. Holding her face, she moved it in all directions in the mirror and then sighed. If only I had the money for a face-lift I could get rid of these darn frown lines. I’d feel so much better about myself.
She let go of her face and straightened her spine. Who was she fooling? There was no extra money in their budget for her to get a face-lift. Plus, she was an old woman now. She didn’t need to look young. She smoothed her hair one last time, then dipped it to assess her roots. The strawberry-blond hair color was enough of a grasp at youthfulness, and the only thing she could afford on their tight budget. Letting her hands fall to her sides, she spun around to face her mother.
“Besides, Mom. I’m not leaving you alone. If you don’t think you can walk that far, then I’ll push you in a wheelchair. It’s only a few blocks.”
From her ar
mchair, Hazel pointed her cane at Gwyn and chortled. “Oh no. You’re not pushing me in one of those rolling contraptions. Not when I’ve got two good feet.”
She knew her mother would say that. Gwyn had threatened to push her in a wheelchair before. “Good. Then you’ll walk.” She grabbed her compact and hairbrush off the counter, tossed them in her purse, and flipped off the bathroom light. “Should we go?”
Hazel groaned. “Only because you’re making me.”
Gwyn tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter and went to the closet. She considered wearing her blue sweater, but then Loni’s extreme dislike for blue popped into her consciousness. Even though Loni wasn’t going to be attending the festival, she opted for her emerald-green sweater instead. She pulled it out of the closet and tugged it on. “I don’t understand why you’re being like this, Mom. What would you do if I left you here?”
Hazel looked around uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I’d find something.”
Gwyn pulled her hair out of the back of her sweater, gave it a little spring, and then pulled another sweater out of the closet for Hazel. “I know exactly what you’d do,” she answered for her. She reached a hand down and pulled her mother out of the chair. “You’d start a poker game with some unsuspecting resident.”
Hazel poked a finger into her chest. “Who, me?!”
Gwyn wrapped the sweater around her mother’s shoulders. “Yes, you. We both know the minute I leave, you’ll get into trouble. I can’t have you getting into trouble here. I finally got my old friends back. I don’t want to have to leave Aspen Falls because you got the two of us into trouble. Isn’t it kind of fun to have friends to go do things with now?”
Hazel shrugged. “They’re your friends, not mine.”
“They’re trying to be your friends,” said Gwyn quietly.
“Are we gonna go or not?” asked Hazel after Gwyn stared at her for several long seconds.
Gwyn walked to the counter, grabbed her purse, and threw it on her shoulder. “Yes. Come on. Let’s go.”
That Old Witch!: The Coffee Coven's Cozy Capers: Book 1 Page 12
