The Westport Mysteries Boxed Set

by Beth Prentice

  “Hello, Andrew speaking.”

  “Hi Andrew. It’s me, Lizzie.”

  “Hello, Sweetheart. What are you doing?”

  “Well, I was wondering how busy you guys were this afternoon and if you’re free for a road trip.”

  “I’m sorry, but we’re completely booked up. We finish at six this evening. We could come with you then. Where are we going, Poppet?”

  “Just over to Ackwood to visit someone. I feel a bit weird going alone, that’s all.”

  “Then we’ll come with you. Can it wait until then?”

  “No, sorry. My appointment is at four. It’s okay, though. I’ll go on my own. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Damn. I knew this was a really stupid move. But what could I do? I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by. It may just answer all my questions. But what if it was a trap? What if David Thornton figured out I knew it was his family who owned the ring? So what if he did?

  Did he have anything to hide? For all I knew, the ring may have been stolen from his family or lost even. It may not even be connected to what’s been happening lately. I decided then and there I had to go, and ran back inside to tell Mum I was off.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It turned out my GPS underestimated the traffic. It took well over an hour to get to the nursing facility. Driving up the long, tree-lined drive that led me to the main administration building, I had butterflies the size of birds flying around in my stomach. Surely meeting somebody in a place as populated as this should be safe?

  Reaching the building, I locked my car and walked inside. The exterior of the building looked Tudor in style with its white-washed walls and black beams running across the front. The interior was totally opposite to what I expected. It was modern, with wide halls and white-washed timber flooring, white walls and lots of colorful prints, adding much-needed color to the sterile-looking area. Along one wall, ran a reception desk—also white—with two women behind the counter.

  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask them for John Smith or what, but looking around I figured that was my only option, so I walked towards the counter and waited to be served. Geez, you had to be tall to work around here. The top of the counter came to my shoulders, making me feel like one of the dwarves as the woman on the other side looked down at me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, please. I’m looking for John Smith.”

  “John Smith? Is he a resident here?”

  “Well, I don’t really know, sorry. I was just asked to meet him here.”

  I saw the incredulous look pass over her face before she quickly put her public face back on. “I’m very sorry, but I can’t help you. The exit is that way,” she said, pointing towards the door I had just come in from.

  I could kind of understand where she was coming from, but did she have to be so rude about it? Turning around and feeling totally pissed off, I watched as a man stepped out of the shadows. My heart skipped a couple of beats before I realized it was the man from the church.

  “Lizzie Fuller.” It was said more as a statement than a question.

  “Yes?” We totally had this question answer thing the wrong way around.

  “I should probably introduce myself. I’m John Buckner, also known as John Smith. Would you walk with me?” he asked, gesturing towards the corridor to my right.

  I wasn’t really sure about the answer to this. I was thinking I was probably safer in here with Rude Britches over there watching us, but I didn’t think I would be any the wiser if we stayed.

  “Okay. But you need to tell me why you got me here.”

  “There’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”

  Following him up the corridor and making several turns into other corridors, all of which looked exactly the same as the last, I was completely lost by the time we stopped and knocked on one of the doors. Waiting a beat, he opened the door and motioned for me to enter first.

  I felt the sudden wave of panic hit me. Being here was a bad idea.

  “Nobody’s going to hurt you, but you do have a lot to gain if you stay,” he said.

  Looking into his eyes, I tried to get an indication if he was telling me the truth or not, but this was way too mysterious for me.

  “Who’s in there and why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” I demanded.

  “Please, if you just go in and let me introduce you, it will all become very clear.” Now I could turn and run and never solve the mystery, or I could grow a set of balls and enter the room. Turning on my heel, I briskly walked into the room before those balls shrank again.

  It was a small room, rather like that of a hospital ward. Maybe that’s why I had the heebee jeebies. A television was mounted high on the wall, with an ensuite bathroom off to the side and a bed in the center of the room. Lying in that bed was a particularly small, fragile looking lady, who if I had to guess her age, would put her in her late eighties, dressed in a cream-colored nightgown and white fluffy slippers. Hardly a killer in waiting, I thought, feeling much more relaxed now I was actually in the room.

  “Nana, I’d like you to meet Lizzie Fuller,” said John as he walked towards the lady.

  The lady looked over at me, her eyes cloudy with cataracts. I wasn’t really sure how much she could see, so I tentatively walked closer to the bed. Reaching out her hand, she waved it around for me to move closer still. Once I was within her reach, she grasped my hand and held it tightly. I don’t know why, but I could feel that lump in my throat once again.

  “Lizzie, this is my grandmother, Wilhelmina Buckner, nee Thornton. Mina to her family.” So this was David Thornton’s Aunt. “And Will to all her friends,” John continued.

  Looking between John and Wilhelmina, I thought I’d misheard. I could feel the cogs in my brain turning as all the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. I was too shocked to speak.

  When finally I regained control, I asked, “Is this the Will who knew Avis Miller?” I needed to make sure I had this right.

  John nodded.

  Feeling Wilhelmina’s grip tighten, I looked down at her aged hand holding mine as if her life depended on it. “Oh my God, I don’t believe it! Can…can…she speak?” I asked, looking back at John.

  “Yes, but it is a bit of an effort. She has emphysema and breathing’s difficult a lot of the time.” He stopped and looked at his Nana, and I could feel his love and compassion for her. “I’ve been watching and listening at the Church and have overheard conversations I don’t think I was supposed to overhear. Most of them involved you and your house,” he said, finally looking up at me. “You’ve really had my cousin on the hop since you bought it. He’s been so afraid you would find the ring and connect it to our family.”

  “Are you the one who put Sedan Man onto me?” I asked, suddenly feeling on edge and defensive.

  “Who?”

  “The big, bald guy who drives the black sedan. He’s been following me for weeks.”

  “No, but I know who you’re talking about. I’ve heard my cousin talking and I know he’s afraid. When the house was cleared out, they couldn’t find the ring. When you started renovating it, he was worried about what you would find. Avis always told him it would come back to haunt him one day.”

  “You are talking about David Thornton, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, the one and only,” he snarled.

  “So he knew Avis as well?”

  “I wouldn’t say he knew her, but he visited a couple of times to try to get the ring back. My Uncle Charles had tried many times over the years and, before he died, he told David all about Nana and how important it was the public never knew the real story.”

  “Why? What’s so important about it?”

  “Don’t you see? I’m sure you’ve figured out by now Nana was in love with a woman?”

  “Yes, and I also found the letters and a photo, so I pretty well understand that side of it.”

  “Well, if the Church congregation found out the great Thornton family
had a lesbian in their midst, that wouldn’t sit well with them, would it?”

  “I think they underestimate people.”

  Looking back at the lady lying in the bed, her eyes half closed, I wondered how anybody could hide her.

  “That’s because you aren’t a member of the Global Ministry. They consider homosexuality to be a sin and they condemn sinners. Plus…there are a lot of other things that go on that they may start to question as well. My cousin is not a good Christian, Lizzie.”

  Wilhelmina started to move in an attempt to sit up, and was coughing and struggling for breath. John quickly moved forward, pushing me out of the way and placed the oxygen mask on her mouth and nose. After a few minutes of listening to nothing but the whirring of the motor and Wilhelmina’s labored breathing, she removed the mask with shaky hands and tried to speak.

  “Move closer. I think she wants to tell you something,” said John, putting his hand on my shoulder and moving me forward.

  Her eyes moved to mine as she held the mask in her wrinkled hand and I saw the tears well up as she gave me a weak smile.

  “I gave the ring to Avis when we’d been together a year,” she wheezed, her voice weak. “I knew we could never get married, but the ring could be a symbol of our own union.” I watched as the tears in her cloudy eyes disappeared and a light took their place as she remembered the love she shared with Avis. “She loved it, she was so happy.” She smiled. “That didn’t last long though. Her mother walked in and saw it. The look on her face as she looked at Avis was one of pure disgust.” Wilhelmina stopped for a coughing fit, but as John tried to put the mask back on her, she shooed him away. “I even changed myself to look like a man and went by the name Will thinking people wouldn’t know the truth and then we could be together. But Avis knew and she couldn’t live with her mother’s hatred.” Stopping to inhale some more oxygen from the mask, the sadness returned to her eyes. “But she couldn’t abandon her. I know Avis loved me, but she couldn’t really accept who she was. I gave up but I never stopped loving her. I never found that kind of happiness again. I love my son and my grandson of course, but I never loved another person the way I loved her.” The memory was obviously painful. I watched tears run down her wrinkled cheeks.

  “What do you want me to do with the ring, Ms. Buckner?” I had to know. It was only right she decided what to do with it.

  “You have it? Avis kept it?” she wheezed, her eyes suddenly bright.

  “Well, I don’t have it with me, but it’s in a safe place. I can get it to you tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

  Her cough kicked up a gear as she shook her head. She took my hand and said, “No, no, no. Do not give the ring back to them. It was my mother’s and I don’t want them to have it. They don’t deserve it. My brother spent his whole life hating me and what I stood for, and now so does his son. You take the ring and do whatever you want with it. It’s yours now,” she said in between coughs.

  “But I don’t want it. I feel really strongly that you should have it back.”

  “Then sell it,” she said, putting the mask back on and turning her head slightly away from me, her body language telling me in no uncertain terms this was the end of the discussion.

  “How about I sell it and use the money to buy Avis a headstone.” Turning back towards me, her smile hidden by the oxygen mask, she squeezed my hand tighter.

  Feeling at peace with my decision, I said goodbye and left her to rest as John walked me back to the front reception area.

  “Thank you, Lizzie. I think you’ve made Nana a very happy woman.”

  “She obviously married then?” I asked, curiosity about her whole story getting the better of me.

  “Yes, she already knew my granddad. He was a family friend and her father pretty much arranged the marriage. It was important to them that everything looked proper and correct to the congregation. It’s still the same now. I mean, if the truth was told about what happens behind closed doors in that place, people would flee from it in droves.” I could hear the hatred in his voice as he spoke. “My granddad treated her well though, right up until he died, and they did have my dad. He passed away a few years ago from cancer, so I’m all she’s got now.” Hearing buzzers going crazy at the nurses’ station, John looked up and said, “Well, I’d better get back to her. I don’t like leaving her alone for very long. The doctors have told me she doesn’t have much more time and I want to be there for her as much as I can.” I could feel his sadness as he looked at me and shook my hand. “Goodbye Lizzie.”

  * * * *

  Walking to my car with a heavy feeling in my chest, I knew I should be happy that the mystery was finally solved. I knew who Will was and who had owned the ring. But all I could think about was how their families had kept them apart. I thought of Danny and Andrew, my mum and dad, and of Riley’s gran and grandpop.

  It didn’t matter who you loved…just that you loved. There was no excuse for anybody to stand in the way of it. Avis and Wilhelmina would never get another chance; it was too late for them now. I crossed the carpark towards my car feeling frustrated by the situation, knowing there was no way I could change anything.

  Discrimination is wrong. I believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion. We’re all different. What’s right for me may not be right for you. I also believe that we should all love, respect and honor one another. Only God can judge, and when Judgment Day arrives, He will. In the meantime, I think the whole world would be a better place if we all respected our right to an opinion and not to force our own beliefs on each other.

  I couldn’t imagine my family doing that to Danny and Andrew. Even though I knew Dad still wasn’t one hundred percent okay with Danny’s sexual orientation, he loved him far too much to see him unhappy. So he put his personal opinion aside and accepted him for who he was.

  The more I thought about this, the angrier I became. So much so, I was totally unaware of the large, bald-headed figure stepping up as I walked between the cars. My scream was stifled as he put his hand over my mouth and a large, shiny blade to my throat.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The feel of the cold, hard blade against my skin terrified me, so much so I felt paralyzed. My knees buckled under me. I felt the man pull me up and drag me towards the waiting car. Still holding the knife to my throat, he unlocked the car doors with his remote.

  “Get in,” he demanded.

  “No, I don’t want to,” I squeaked, fear sending my voice into the stratosphere. The blade grazed across my skin and a trickle of warm blood flowed down my neck. I decided that until I had a better plan, I should probably do what he said.

  He forced me in through the drivers’ door. I had to climb over the center console to get to the opposite seat. Wondering if I had a chance to open the door and escape, I checked the lock and saw it firmly in place. No hope there. Baldy was already behind me and starting the car. My heart sank as we pulled out of the carpark, leaving any chance of escape behind and panic closing my throat.

  I watched hopelessly as we passed my little Mini and drove off into the unknown. I could feel my neck stinging and put my hand to my throat. I looked down and saw it was covered in blood. Nausea and fear rolled through my stomach.

  “I’m going to throw up!” I said, looking around desperately, pushing the switch for the window to go down. It wasn’t working. He must have them locked.

  Alarm registered in his eyes and he waved the knife in my direction again. “Don’t you dare,” he snarled.

  Too bad, I thought, as I turned my head in his direction and threw up the entire contents of my stomach—which I may add was quite a bit after I’d stopped on my way here to have a thick shake, burger and chips.

  The car swerved across the road, as he attempted to protect himself from the barrage coming his way. It didn’t help though. It was dripping off his arm, sliding down the side of his face and hanging off his earring. I could see his gag reflex kick in and quickly winding down his window, he stuck his head outside and to
ok some deep breaths.

  Once he gained control, he turned to me, raised his fist and struck. “Bitch!”

  My head hit the window hard, everything turned black as I said a quick goodbye to the world.

  * * * *

  It was the sound of a dog barking that pulled me from the darkness. I pried my eyes open. My head throbbed and I struggled to remember what had happened. Blinking several times, I begged my eyes to adjust to the light faster than they were. I saw I was on the floor in my kitchen and the dog I could hear was Harper.

  I have no idea how long I was unconscious for, but judging by the gloom in the room, I’d say it had been a while. The blinds were closed, adding to the shadowy darkness. I tried to sit up and realized one hand was handcuffed to my refrigerator. No wonder my wrist hurt so much. I raised myself onto my knees to take the pressure off my wrist and tried to figure out what was going on.

  “Hello, again,” I heard a familiar, smooth voice say.

  Struggling to my feet, I hoped my legs weren’t quite as jelly-like as they felt. I turned around as far as the handcuffs would allow and came face to face with David Thornton.

  “We meet again,” he crooned. My voice hadn’t caught up with the rest of me yet, so I glared at him instead.

  “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here? Well, it turns out it’s quite a story. One you can blame Avis Miller completely for,” he said, pointing at me.

  I’m not sure why, but I felt compelled to defend her, even though we’d never actually met.

  “Don’t blame other people for your choices,” I said, my wobbly voice deciding to join in on the proceedings.

  “Oh, I would never do that, Lizzie. I hope you don’t mind that I use your Christian name. I do feel we are quite connected now. Don’t you?”

  “The only part of me that I would like to be connected to you is my fist,” I mumbled, trying to shake the grogginess that I was feeling.

  He gave a throaty chuckle. “Now, now, please don’t be like that. You will soon be standing in front of St Peter, and if you want to spend eternity with our Lord, then you will need to be repentant.”