Cut to the Corpse

by Lucy Lawrence

  “Does that bother you?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I’m getting used to it.”

  “Me, too,” he said.

  They walked in silence, and Brenna was pleased to discover that it was comfortable. Apparently, they didn’t need to talk baseball to be at ease with each other.

  The steady cadence of mallets pounding tent spikes filled the air. The town green was being set up for the Morse Point Women’s Auxiliary rummage sale. Brenna was looking forward to the annual event. Last year she had scored a wooden bench that she had decorated with paper cutouts of tulips and then finished with a beaded fringe around the bottom edge. Lillian had bought it to put in the reading nook in the library, and Brenna always felt a lift when she saw someone sitting on her bench. She hoped to find something like that tomorrow. With Betty Cartwright’s hope chest done, she needed a new project to challenge her imagination.

  As she and Nate sat on a vacant park bench, she spotted Jake and John Haywood setting up the booths on the green with several other men, including Tyler Montgomery. Brenna waved at them and all three waved back.

  “How are you feeling?” Nate asked. “And tell me the truth. I don’t want any of that brave soldier stuff.”

  “I’m much better,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt as much when I walk. I’ve had no headaches or blurry vision. The bump only hurts when I touch it, so of course I have to keep poking it, so I can tell myself, yup, still hurts.”

  He grinned, and Brenna suspected he’d done the same thing with his own boo-boos in the past.

  “So, I was wondering . . .” His voice trailed off, and Brenna said, “Yes?”

  “Why didn’t you go to Bayview with Dom?”

  He looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t stand not knowing even more. Brenna knew exactly how he felt.

  “I’m not running away from my life here,” she said. “It’s a good life and I’m happy.”

  “It’s dangerous for you to be here,” he said. “Dom can’t be happy about that.”

  Brenna shrugged. She supposed she could tell him that she and Dom were just friends, but she wasn’t sure if that’s what he was asking, and she didn’t want to make an idiot of herself by assuming. Besides, she really wasn’t sure what the future held for her and Dom. He certainly seemed willing to wait for her to figure it out, and maybe when she did, it would be him that she chose.

  She wasn’t one to let an opportunity pass by, however, so she turned to him and said, “I’ve got one for you now.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Why did you go to Connecticut?”

  His eyebrows rose and he turned to study her. A small smile played on his lips as if he was pleased by her question.

  “It was my mother’s birthday,” he said. “She lives on the shore in Noank so my brother and I went for the weekend.”

  No girlfriend! No romantic tryst with another woman! Brenna resisted the urge to jump up and down, knowing it would hurt her head and she’d embarrass herself, but inside she was tap dancing.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked her.

  “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “It is,” he agreed.

  Nate treated her to a latte to-go and brought her back to Vintage Papers. Ella and Marie were pressed against the front glass, waiting for her. They scrambled away as soon as she opened the door and she turned and smiled at Nate.

  “Told you so,” she said.

  “Maybe we should give them something to talk about,” he said and winked at her.

  Brenna felt her mouth slide open in surprise but anything she might have said was interrupted by Tara, who came banging out of the open door and grabbed her in a bear hug that about crushed her.

  “Oh, Brenna, you’re here. I’ve been so worried,” she said.

  “There’s no need. I’m tougher than I look.”

  She glanced over Tara’s head at Nate. What had he meant by that wink? Oh, if only Tara had been a couple of seconds slower. Nuts!

  He smiled at her and waved good-bye. Brenna waved back, feeling acutely frustrated to see him go, but knowing she couldn’t exactly call him back.

  “The class is waiting for you,” Tara said. “Sarah brought scones and Tenley made tea. You should get off your feet.”

  Brenna let Tara lead her into the shop. Her class was assembled and ready to go. She noticed the surreptitious glances they gave her as if checking to see if she was about to faint.

  It felt good to have the concern of so many people. Although she’d only lived in Morse Point for two years, it was beginning to feel more like home than any other place she’d ever lived. Brenna felt lucky to be so accepted by these people and this community.

  She spent the class working with each of her students individually. She helped Sarah get her labels laid out just right, and she listened to Lillian’s latest stories about her boys. She navigated a dispute between the Porter sisters over how much glue to use, and finally, she checked on Margie Haywood, who had spent half of the class at the window, overseeing the setup of the booths for tomorrow.

  Unfortunately, Margie’s cigar box looked like a beginner’s. The labels had too much glue and they were uneven.

  “Are you okay, Margie?” Brenna asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” Margie said with a brave smile. “I just haven’t been sleeping what with all that’s been happening and the women’s auxiliary to top it off. Maybe I should try this again when I can give it my undivided attention.”

  “I have a million of those sorts of pieces,” Brenna said. “I used to be stubborn and try to force it, but I’ve found it’s better to walk away and come back to a piece that’s being difficult. Sort of like doing a crossword puzzle. If you put it down and pick it back up later all of a sudden, the answers just come.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Margie said and patted her hand. “You’re being very kind. Now enough about silly old me, how are you feeling?”

  “Better every day,” Brenna said. “Especially, because I feel certain that it is just a matter of time before Clue’s killer is caught.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, dear,” Margie said, but she looked at her with grave concern, making Brenna think she didn’t really believe Clue’s killer would ever be caught. But perhaps as the mother of the chief suspect, she just couldn’t let herself believe it until it happened and her son was safe.

  “Are you making yours for your future husband?” Ella Porter asked Tara.

  “Yes.” Tara beamed with pleasure.

  She had done a wonderful job of trimming her labels into sharp edged stars and putting them together so that they resembled a star patterned quilt. Brenna was impressed with her eye for color and detail.

  The bells on the door handle jangled, and Jake walked in. He surveyed the room until he found Tara and then he crooked a finger at her. She flew across the room and into his arms. A collective sigh was emitted from the women gathered, including Brenna.

  Jake took Tara by the hand and approached his mother. “Dad says it’s okay with him, but we have to ask my mom,” he said to Tara as they circled the table.

  Margie looked up at their approach and gave them a small smile.

  “I thought you were helping your dad,” she said.

  “I was, but I need to ask you something,” Jake said.

  “I’m all ears,” Margie said. She glanced around the room as all motion had stopped. “Shall we go outside?”

  “No, I know you’re going to approve,” he said. He was grinning from ear to ear like he’d just won the lottery.

  Maybe he had. Maybe the chief had found the real murderer. Brenna leaned closer. She was getting as bad as the Porter sisters.

  “Mom, Tara and I are getting married,” he said.

  “I know, dear,” Margie said. She looked at him as if he were being silly.

  “No, I mean we’re getting married tomorrow,” he said.

  Margie’s eyes went wide and her mouth
popped open, but no sound came out.

  “I know it seems sudden, but we know what we want. We’re going to have a small ceremony at city hall, and we’re putting a down payment on a small house over on First Street.”

  “Jake, this is so sudden,” Margie said. “I mean, there’s still a murder investigation going on and we don’t know what’s going to happen . . .”

  Jake waited until she wound down, then he looped his arm about Tara’s shoulders and pulled her close.

  “I know that either of us could be tried for Clue’s murder,” he said. “We both know that, but we talked about it and we know we’re innocent. We think that getting married and buying a house is the strongest act of optimism that we can make to show that we believe in us, for now and forever.”

  Tara beamed at Jake, and he leaned down and kissed her. A collective swoon swept through the room, and Brenna saw Tenley surreptitiously wipe the corner of her eye.

  Margie’s hand fluttered around her throat as if she didn’t know what to say. When Jake and Tara parted and turned to look at her, she raised her hands in helpless surrender and pulled them both close for a hug.

  “Well, congratulations are in order I expect,” she said.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jake said. “Now since we won’t be having a big wedding, I asked Dad if we could have the money you set aside for our wedding for the house, and he said it was fine by him but I should ask you.”

  “Oh, well, let’s discuss it outside,” Margie said.

  Her eyes were wide and she glanced at the other ladies in the room. Brenna knew she must be wondering what everyone thought of this sudden turn of events. To reassure her, Brenna gave her a big grin before she turned to the refreshment table in order to give the family some privacy.

  The Porter sisters were almost falling out of their chairs in their efforts to hear what was happening, so Brenna took them both by the elbows and asked, “Scone? Tea? How about it ladies?”

  Ella sent her a withering glance and Marie sighed as if still enthralled with Jake’s speech.

  Brenna had just taken a teacup off of the tray when she heard Tara whisper to Tenley, “Since my parents posted his bail, Jake refuses to ask them for any help with the house. He has such integrity. Luckily, the owners of the bungalow are looking to get out, so we’re getting quite a steal. The Realtor said fifteen thousand would be an excellent down payment. I am so excited.”

  “You should be,” Tenley said. “It’s really wonderful news.”

  Brenna watched the door shut after Margie and Jake. A dull thud in her chest made her peer out the window after them. Margie was standing on the sidewalk, wearing her usual khaki skirt and scrubs top.

  Today, however, she was wearing loafers instead of those old boots of Jake’s she’d been stomping around in. The ones she had said she was going to donate to the rummage sale, the ones Brenna had teased her about getting hot pink laces for, the same ones that had been worn to commit a murder.

  She watched Margie enfold Jake in a hug, fierce, almost as if she were saying good-bye. A roaring noise filled her ears and as it grew louder, Brenna clutched the edge of the refreshment cart and put her teacup down with shaky fingers. Fifteen thousand dollars was a lot of money, the kind of money that could buy a Harley Fat Boy outright.

  She didn’t pause to consider her actions, she just felt herself move across the floor.

  “Brenna!” Tenley called after her, but she ignored her. She had a killer to catch.

  Chapter 19

  Margie had left Jake, who had gone back to help his father, and was headed across the green toward the bank.

  “Margie, wait!” Brenna called.

  Margie glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met Brenna’s, but instead of slowing down, she broke into a run.

  Her knees screamed in protest, but Brenna didn’t slow down. She dashed across the street after Margie. There was a screech of brakes and a car honked at her but Brenna kept going. She left the cement walkway and cut across the grass, vaulting over bundles of tarps still to be set up for tomorrow’s event.

  Jake and John Haywood glanced up from the booth they were erecting and stared as first Margie and then Brenna ran by them.

  “Margie, stop!” Brenna yelled. She was gaining on her, and managed to grab her arm and spin her around. They were both wheezing from the spontaneous sprint and Brenna’s head was pounding as the blood rushed into her bruised temple.

  “It was you,” Brenna said. She was gasping for breath but she didn’t let go of Margie’s elbow. The older woman tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but Brenna held firm.

  “You can’t prove anything,” Margie protested as she bent over to catch her breath.

  “The money,” Brenna said. “The amount Jake asked you for is the same amount Clue expected to be paid for doing an ‘odd job.’ Was the odd job to drug his best friend’s fiancée and make it look as if they’d slept together?”

  “No!” Margie protested. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

  Margie’s eyes opened wide at her own admission of guilt. The Haywood men were crossing the green toward them, and Margie started to panic. Brenna tightened her hold.

  “What happened, Margie?” Brenna asked. “How did it all go wrong?”

  Margie sagged as if the fight was seeping out of her.

  “He was supposed to seduce her, not drug her. I was there to take photos and convince Jake that she had cheated on him. But Clue demanded more money and I didn’t have it,” she said. “He threatened to tell Jake what I’d done. I couldn’t let him. You have to understand.”

  “So, you killed him,” Brenna said. She felt queasy, and not just from the pounding in her head. This woman she had liked so well was a murderer, and none of them had seen it.

  “I had no choice,” Margie said.

  “Why did you come after me?” Brenna asked. Margie looked at her with sad eyes. “Oh, the shoes. You were afraid I’d remember that you wore Jake’s old boots and put it all together.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” Margie said. “I like you.”

  Brenna felt a bone-deep chill inside.

  “Why, Margie, why did you do this?”

  “Because she was going to take away my baby,” Margie said. Jake and John were almost upon them. “She would have taken him to Boston or someplace even farther away and I might never see him again. I couldn’t let her have him.”

  “Oh, my God,” Brenna said. A blast of intuition hit her right between the eyes. “Lisa Sutton is dead, isn’t she? You killed her.”

  Margie’s head snapped up and she looked at Brenna with a crazy light in her eye. “She tried to lure him away. She was a wicked girl. I did what I had to do.”

  “Mom, what’s going on?” Jake asked as he joined them.

  “Nothing, dear, I’m just having a chat with Brenna.” She looked softly at her son and laid her free hand on his cheek. She gazed at him with love, and then she stepped back and yanked her elbow out of Brenna’s grasp. She spun on her heel and bolted for the road.

  “Margie, watch out!” John Haywood shouted and pointed at the road.

  “Mom!” Jake Haywood yelled as he looked in the direction his father pointed and saw a large dairy truck headed their way.

  “Oh no you don’t!” Brenna shouted. She bolted after Margie, knowing exactly what she planned to do. Brenna wasn’t about to let her get off that easy.

  She sprinted across the grass, leapt over a hedge, and made a dive, catching Margie around the knees and bringing her down into the dirt. This time it was Margie who smacked her head on the ground as she cushioned Brenna’s fall.

  A pair of shiny, black boots stepped into her line of sight. Brenna glanced up to see Chief Barker looking down at her and thoughtfully pulling on his mustache.

  The dairy truck rolled by, and Margie dissolved into sobs. “Why didn’t you let me do it?”

  “Because it’s not fair to Clue or Lisa,” Brenna said. She gingerly climbed off of Margie. “Chief Ba
rker, you’re going to want to take her in for the murders of Clue Parker and Lisa Sutton.”

  The chief leaned down and pulled Margie up by the arm. John and Jake ran up to meet them, and Brenna stood on wobbly feet. Her head pounded and she was out of breath, but it was worth it.

  “Don’t hate me,” Margie said to her husband and son.

  “What’s going on?” Jake glanced from Brenna to Margie and back.

  “Please take me away, Chief,” Margie said. “I’d rather not be seen like this.”

  John glanced at his wife and his eyes grew sad. “Oh, no, Margie, not you.”

  She didn’t look at him but brushed at the dirt that smeared her skirt. She refused to speak or look at anyone.

  “Brenna, you’ll follow?” Chief Barker asked, although it didn’t sound like a question.

  “I’ll be right there,” she agreed. “Just let me catch my breath.”

  He gave a nod and led Margie across the street to the station house.

  “I don’t understand,” Jake said. “What’s going on?”

  Tara came running across the green to join them with Tenley on her heels.

  “It was your mother,” John Haywood said. “She murdered Clue.”

  “What? That’s crazy!” Jake protested.

  “And Lisa Sutton,” Brenna said.

  Jake staggered back and sank onto a bench. Tara knelt beside him as if she could shield him from the bad news.

  “I don’t understand,” Jake said.

  “Your mother has always been afraid of losing you,” John said. “That’s why she became the school nurse, so she could be near you every day. I thought she was just being overly protective.”

  “B-but . . .” Jake stammered as if he couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

  “Damn it! I knew something was wrong,” John said. “She hasn’t been herself. Ever since Jake and Tara started up, I’d catch her pacing around the house, up at all hours, frequently muttering to herself. I knew something was bothering her, but I never thought she’d . . . oh, poor Clue.”

  “And Lisa,” Brenna added.

  John looked sick to his stomach and sat down next to Jake.