The Westport Mysteries Boxed Set

by Beth Prentice

  “Is this about what happened with Joe Woods?”

  I shivered at the mention of his name. “Aha. Riley thinks I need professional help.”

  “Are you sure he was referring to a counselor?” asked Molly, grinning.

  “Ha ha, you’re a real comedian.” I smiled sarcastically and Molly giggled. “So when are you inviting this new man of yours to our family dinner?”

  Her giggling stopped immediately. She glanced sideways at me as she turned her car into my street. “Not for a very long time.”

  “Are you going to tell me about him or do I have to pry the information out of you?”

  She sighed. “Okay, but please don’t tell Danny, Mum or Grandma. They’ll just want to meet him and once that happens he’ll run for his life.”

  “Our family’s not that bad,” I said. Molly death-stared me. “Okay. They have their moments but for some reason we love them anyway.” Molly pulled her car up outside my house. “Are you coming in?” I asked, my hand on the door latch.

  “No. I need to get going and get back to work. I have a favor to repay the head of the newsroom at WTN. He’s down a cameraman and needs some still photos for a story they’re running tonight.” You’ve probably already guessed it, but in case you haven’t, Molly’s a photographer and a very good one at that. “How about afterwards, I go home, get Harper and come back for afternoon tea?”

  “Sounds good…you can fill me in on the details then.” I smiled, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  After Molly left, I had a quick tidy up and then ducked to the shops to buy a cake for afternoon tea. I didn’t exactly inherit Mum’s cooking abilities so I thought buying one was best. I locked Cat in my bedroom and waited patiently for Molly to arrive. I knew she was here when I heard Harper scratching at the door to get in. As I opened the door, he immediately ran to the kitchen looking for a treat, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and his eyes bright with joy. Harper was a rescue dog and a present Danny and I had given Molly for her birthday. He no longer resembled the skinny, dirt-stained dog we had purchased, but was now brilliant white, fluffy and bordering obese.

  “Hello, beautiful boy,” I said, bending down to scratch behind his ears. “Do you want a treat?”

  “No!” shouted Molly. I stopped and looked up at her.

  “What?”

  “Please don’t give him any treats. He’s on a diet. Mike the Vet got quite cranky at me last week when I put him on the scales.”

  “Surely one little treat won’t hurt?”

  “According to Mike, one treat is equivalent to a Big Mac, so he’s now on a special diet of dried biscuits.”

  “Oh you poor boy,” I said, bending down to pick him up. Snuggling him under my arm, I thought that Mike was right. Harper was a little heavy. Molly closed the door behind her and we wandered out to the back deck.

  “Do you want a coffee or a cold drink?” I asked Molly, placing Harper on the ground. He immediately trotted off into the backyard.

  “I’ll have something fizzy, if you have it.”

  “Oh, you’d better get Harper back. We’re supposed to stay this side of the Police tape.”

  Harper had trotted to the hole that started this mess. I left them alone and wandered into the kitchen to put the cake on a fancy plate. Getting a cake knife, plates and forks and pouring two cold drinks, I placed everything on a wooden tray, along with a stray flower I’d picked from the front garden. Am I domesticated or what?

  Walking back outside, I looked at Molly. She was reading another message and it looked to be a good one at that. “So are you going to give me the details on Matt?” I asked, handing her a glass. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, as she put her phone down on the table.

  “There’s really nothing to tell. We met through work and we hit it off,” she shrugged.

  “Have you gone out with him yet?”

  “No, he hasn’t asked.”

  “Molly! What’s that saying…take my advice, I’m not using it. Don’t you remember the advice you gave me about Riley? You said if I wanted him then I was to go and get him,” I reminded her.

  “Yes, I know,” she grinned. “I’m just giving Matt some time to realize how great I am.”

  “Judging by the glassy look in his eye the other day, I think he already does.” Molly giggled. “Don’t wait too long. He’s pretty cute and he’s on TV so he’ll probably already have a fan club.”

  “Hmm…I never thought of that. Maybe I should Google him? See what I can find.” Just then her phone beeped again and she picked it up, her attention now solely on it. Judging by the grin on her face, I’d say it was the man himself on the other end of the conversation.

  Waiting whilst she texted her response, my attention strayed to a man who had wandered into my backyard. He looked about twenty, wearing official-looking black trousers, white button-up shirt and matching jacket and he led a pack of approximately ten people.

  “And here we are,” he pronounced in a loud voice, his back to me, facing his audience. This was followed by a lot of ahhs from the crowd. Two women who looked to be in their seventies, huddled forward to the police tape.

  “Umm…can I help you?” I asked, standing and moving to the steps. The man leading the group ignored me as he too stepped up to the tape.

  “Now this is the location where the bones were exhumed a couple of days ago,” he explained excitedly, as the two women pulled cameras from their pockets and clicked away. I looked over at Molly, perplexed.

  “Hello,” I called again, moving onto the grass. “Can I help anyone?”

  “Oh don’t mind us,” said another lady. “We’re just here on the tour.”

  “The tour?” I replied.

  “Yes. The tour of Westport.”

  “What tour of Westport?” I asked. Honestly I had never heard of a tour of Westport and I’d lived here my whole life.

  “Bradley,” she said, pointing to the official looking man, “runs a tour of the historic sites of Westport. It leaves the Wharf every Monday,” she explained.

  “Oh, okay.” I looked towards Bradley, realizing how young he really was, and then I looked around his group. I was sure every one of them was a member of Grandma’s seniors group.

  “Lizzie?” called Molly, leaning against the railing of my deck. “What’s going on?”

  “Umm…I honestly have no idea, but Bradley runs tours. Who knew Westport had tours?” I said, looking at her and shrugging my shoulders, intrigued by this new information but actually annoyed by the invasion.

  “Who’s Bradley?” she asked.

  The lady next to me turned and looked at Molly. “He’s such a lovely man. My friend Maud told me about these tours, and when I saw the news the other night I knew I had to go on it,” she explained.

  Meanwhile, Bradley continued his announcement. “As I explained, this grave is approximately sixty years old and the very strange thing is that they uncovered three hands. Now, I am privy to some information that others aren’t, and I found out that the hand does not belong to the body.” He smiled, smugly, obviously very proud of himself.

  Well, it didn’t take a detective to work that out.

  I made a mental note to call Officer Helms later and see what information he had, and maybe ask his advice on how to keep unwanted visitors out of my garden.

  Molly moved to stand next to me. “But why is Bradley in your backyard?” she asked.

  I looked at the woman next to me.

  “I told you,” she said. “It’s a tour!”

  I sighed. “Bradley!” I yelled. Bradley stopped talking and turned to look at us.

  “I’ll be taking questions in a moment,” he said and continued speaking to the crowd.

  I didn’t really want to wait a moment though, so I pushed my way through the small crowd, and stepped up in front of him.

  “No, I’m sorry. I won’t wait a moment. What exactly are you doing here?” I had no problem confronting Bradley. He didn’t l
ook threatening, and I had Molly as back-up.

  Bradley looked at me, obviously deciding his tactic.

  “This gravesite could be of historic value to the town of Westport,” he said. “People want to know what’s happening.” His fingers fiddled with the hem on his jacket and I could see the sweat bead on his lip. I got the impression he wasn’t as confident as he tried to portray.

  “Well, this is private property, so could I see your permit to conduct this tour, please?”

  Bradley’s ears turned a slight shade of pink. “Well, I haven’t had time to get the approval just yet. But my application is in,” he beamed.

  “In with who?” asked Riley, who up until now had been inside the house.

  “W…well,” stuttered Bradley. “The Council?” It was more of a question than an answer.

  “I think it’s time you leave,” suggested Riley, pulling himself to his full height. Now, I’m not sure how tall Bradley was, but six foot three was a lot taller. Bradley quickly assessed the situation.

  “Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’re pretty much finished here anyway.” He gathered his crowd and ushered them all to the front, the disappointed sounds of ten senior citizens following him.

  Chapter Four

  The gossip grapevine had gone into frenzy since my fifteen minutes of fame, and word of the Westport Tour had spread. Believe me; the residents of Westport made the most of it. Every day dozens of people filled my backyard, all standing around the police tape, looking into the hole in the dirt. Not much happens in town, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

  I had phoned Officer Helms and he’d informed me that I could get the police to forcibly remove everyone, but in all honesty it felt like a waste of police resources. And so long as they all stayed this side of the police tape, then I guess no harm was being done. I was also pretty proud of myself with the way that I was learning to trust strangers again. It’s funny how brave I am when Riley’s not far away.

  Today, I’d had errands to run for work, and when I got home I struggled to get my Mini into my driveway. Walking around to the back of the house, I did a quick estimation and guessed there to be about thirty people, all standing around with their hands in their pockets or scratching their heads. I walked over to them and looked down into the dirt. Maybe there was something in there that was of great interest, but I couldn’t see it.

  After a few minutes of looking, I concurred that my initial thoughts of everyone having gone a little bit crazy were correct.

  Bradley stood back and beamed at me. He was an annoyance but his excited grin was pretty cute. He raised his hand and waved. I reluctantly waved back, thinking how he reminded me of Harper—all bright eyed and happy. Turning away from him and walking back towards the house, I noticed an old man looking at my garage. My garage is a bit of an eyesore. It’s single storey with a mezzanine floor made of the same timber the house is made of. I worry every time we have a strong wind because I think it could fall down. I’ve only looked in there once and that was when I first bought the place. I’ve been too afraid to go back in there since.

  I looked back at the man and noticed he seemed lost in another world, completely unaware that Bradley was now calling for the group to return to the bus.

  I was about to walk over to him and ask if he was okay when he turned to look at me. I figured him to be in his eighties and he dressed very much like some of Grandma’s suitors. I thought he looked quite sweet as he stood, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his walking stick.

  He noticed me staring at him and smiled, his nicotine-stained teeth bared. He lifted his walking stick in a wave and limped after the crowd now moving down my driveway.

  * * * *

  It didn’t take Grandma long before she heard about the tours, so by Wednesday, I cleared my diary and invited her and her friend, Eunice over to see the crime scene. Today had the advantage that it was raining, which meant her visit would have to be taken from the safety of the back deck. This was a Godsend really as I was a bit concerned about her being that close to a gaping big hole in the ground. Yes, I know we’re not supposed to cross the police tape, but I really couldn’t trust Grandma all that much. I truly love her, but seriously, even I find myself rolling my eyes when she’s around.

  Mum, Grandma and Eunice all arrived around morning tea time. I heard the car pull into the driveway and opened the front door ready to help them all into the house. I watched as Mum got two walkers out of the trunk and pushed them round to her passengers. I stepped over the threshold and moved towards them.

  “Hi everyone,” I called.

  Mum answered me with a sigh, as both Grandma and Eunice smiled and pushed their walkers up the path, but not before they fought for first place. Grandma won of course. I stepped aside so that she could pass, kissing her cheek as I did so.

  “Do you need any help?”

  Grandma wore her new dress and once again, had her purple handbag hanging on her arm.

  “Well, I could do with Riley helping me into the house,” said Grandma. “My arthritis is playing up today.”

  “Your arthritis is in your hand,” called Mum, rolling her eyes as she spoke.

  “Humph,” said Grandma.

  “He’s not here, sorry Grandma.”

  “Humph.”

  “Let me take your bag,” I said, lifting her bag from her walker. I felt my shoulder pull.

  “What the hell is in this purse?” I asked, shocked at how heavy it was.

  “Grandpa…he’s put on a bit of weight.”

  “Grandpa died years ago,” I replied, confused.

  “I know, but I take his ashes wherever I go.”

  “Did you not want to put him in a lighter container?” Allowing them all to go ahead of me, I closed the door behind us. “Where are you going?” I asked as she shuffled her way through my kitchen.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’re all dressed up. I wondered where you were off to after this.” She stopped and smoothed her dress. “Nowhere…just thought I should respect the dead.”

  Can’t argue with that, I guess. Mum followed everyone through the house and out to the back deck, where they had a much better view of what was going on. Mum sat down heavily on a chair and sighed.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “What do you think?” She really didn’t want to know what I thought. “I’m worried sick about you.” She did actually look a bit tired.

  “Nell,” said Grandma. “I told you in the car, dead people don’t ever hurt anybody.”

  “I know that, but someone made that body dead and then buried it in the garden. I mean, who does such a thing?” Mum’s voice sounded awfully like Minnie Mouse’s.

  “Have you taken your tablets today?” asked Grandma, looking at Mum.

  Mum responded by giving Grandma the evil eye. “I do not need medicating,” she said.

  I gave Mum a closer look and noticed her short curly hair was a lot straighter today. At first I had thought it was because of the rain, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Everything’s okay, Mum,” I said, reassuringly. “No one is going to hurt me. And anyway, I’ve got Riley to protect me now.”

  “Yes, and thank the good Lord for that, but I would still feel better if you sold this house.”

  Yeah, so would I. “Also, I’m pretty sure that body has been there a long time.” I didn’t want to admit that I was still pretty freaked out about it. That would only add to Mum’s anxiety.

  “Yes, but what if whoever buried it is still around?”

  “Well they have no reason to come looking here. The body has gone and so has the evidence.” I hoped I sounded a lot more convincing than I felt.

  Mum huffed and folded her arms across her chest, obviously no more reassured than before. Luckily I hadn’t told her about the blood.

  “Lizzie, I’m leaving them here with you for a little while. I have some errands to run and it’ll be easier on my own,” Mum said in
a tone that suggested this wasn’t negotiable.

  “Sure. No worries.” For the first time since she’d pulled up, Mum’s shoulders relaxed and a smile played on her lips.

  “Thank you, Lizzie. I’ll make sure I bake a chocolate cake with dinner this Sunday.” I gave Mum a hug and waved as she walked back into the house, closing the door behind her.

  “I bought some biscuits,” said Eunice, opening the seat of her walker and retrieving a plastic container. Taking it from her, I opened the lid and smiled at the smell of home-baked cookies floating my way.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, secretly happy she had.

  “I’m never one to turn up empty-handed.” She smiled as she looked at the group of people starting to wander around my garden.

  Bradley, moved to stand near the steps, grinned and waved. I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about his tours, but I had to give him points for his enterprising spirit…and points for the fact he hadn’t let Riley scare him off.

  Grandma shuffled over next to me.

  “Do you want a biscuit?” she called to Bradley.

  Bradley’s grin got bigger and he moved towards us.

  “Oh yes, please. I missed breakfast today and I’m starving. I didn’t know how I was going to make it to lunch.”

  “You’ve got a bus load of senior citizens there. Surely one of ‘em will have a packet of biscuits,” said Grandma. “Eunice here never goes anywhere without hers.”

  “Always prepared!” trilled Eunice.

  An elderly man who’d been standing just behind Bradley looked up. “That’s what I used to say when I was a boy scout. Long time ago that was though, but it was a lesson I never forgot.” He gave us a toothy grin and moved closer to Grandma. I looked down on him from my position on the deck and a memory stirred. Now I’m not very good with names, in fact I’m pretty crap at it, but I never forgot a face. And this man had a very familiar face.

  “My, my…you were at the front of the queue when good looks were handed out, weren’t you?” he said, extending his hand up to Grandma. “I’m George…George Burnett.”