The Serenity Stone Murder

by Marianne Jones

“If you don’t mind,” Margaret said, pushing her chair back and collecting the dishes. “I guess I’ll have to face the music sometime. Just let me clean up first.”

  “Forget it.” Tom waved at her. “That was Jimmy’s job. I’ll save them for him the next time he comes.”

  “He will, too,” said Jimmy.

  “This has been amazing,” Margaret said to Tom. “I just can’t thank you enough for everything.”

  “It was serendipitous,” he responded. “I’ve always wanted to paint Jackpine country. “This was the sign I needed to take action.”

  Chapter Nine

  As Jimmy’s Bronco carried them along the dusty road, Margaret’s mind returned to the image of Tom standing in the backlit doorway of his cottage, waving goodbye. In her purse was his telephone number, which he had given her only after making her promise, on pain of extreme torture, to keep confidential. She felt like she was part of a privileged secret club.

  “Nickel for your thoughts.” Jimmy broke the silence.

  “A nickel? Are you sure they’re worth that much?”

  “Inflation.”

  She wasn’t about to tell him she was thinking about Tom. “I was just thinking about that murder case—you know, the casino manager,” she fibbed.

  “You and everyone else in town,” he said.

  “You must hear a lot of rumours about the case,” she hinted.

  “Well, I’m retired now, and besides, I wasn’t a homicide cop,” he responded, concentrating on the dark road ahead. Without the lights of the city, visibility on the country road was poor.

  “Still, you must hear things,” she persisted.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Oh come on, you’re retired now. You wouldn’t be breaking any rules to share something interesting you’ve heard,” she wheedled.

  He gave her a careful look before returning his attention to the highway. “What’s your interest in this anyway? Are you a regular at the casino?”

  “No, just curious. Actually, my friend Louise and I were at a conference at the church right by the casino property the morning Mr. Whalen’s body was discovered. Then Louise heard all kinds of stuff from an employee at Bubbles, where she was staying, and we kind of got caught up in the whole thing, especially after the funeral.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. Your friend was staying at Bubbles? Is your friend some kind of dancer?”

  “No, she’s a retired schoolteacher.”

  “Staying at Bubbles . . .”

  “We were both staying there. Then we had a little tiff, and I moved out.” The look on his face was unreadable. “Anyway, I kept seeing Mr. Whalen’s widow around town with this one man. She seemed to be going out a lot and spending a lot of money, which seemed odd under the circumstances. And then, after church, Louise and I made up, and she came up with the idea of going to Mr. Whalen’s funeral. That’s where I overheard Mrs. Whalen arguing with her sister-in-law. And then, Louise insisted that we split up, and follow Mrs. Whalen and her friend.”

  “Hold on.” He cleared his throat. “How are you and your friend Louise connected with Doug Whalen?”

  “We’re not. I told you, we’re just curious. Well, actually, Louise is a lot more curious than I am. But that’s just Louise. I mean, she was the one who dragged me to that silly conference. If it had been up to me, we would have spent all of our time shopping and going to concerts. Just between you and me, I sometimes think Louise may be a bit bored since she retired. That’s why she comes up with these ideas, and she always insists that I come along for the ride.”

  “Uh huh. Well, if she’s bored, don’t you think doing some volunteering might be more appropriate than amateur detective work?”

  “Well, it’s not like anybody set out planning to get involved in all this. It just sort of happened.”

  “It sort of happened? How does attending funerals that are none of your business and tailing strangers that may or may not be suspects in a murder case sort of happen?”

  Margaret shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “I tried to talk Louise out of it, but once she gets her mind made up she’s very hard to dissuade.”

  “Apparently.”

  Silence fell inside the truck, the only sound remaining was the humming of the engine and the sound of the tires on the gravel road. Margaret studied the patterns created in the shadowy trees by the truck’s headlights. She felt like a chastened child as she realized how ridiculous her and Louise’s antics must seem to a seasoned law enforcement person. Not just how they seemed, but how silly they actually were. How could a retired schoolteacher and housewife imagine they were going to crack a murder case wide open?

  We must have way too much time on our hands, she thought. Or watch too much television. Or both.

  Her embarrassment deepened as the quiet lengthened. Finally Jimmy broke the silence.

  “I didn’t mean to come down on you so hard. I guess old police habits are tough to break. But I really am concerned about your safety. This isn’t a game.”

  “I know,” she said meekly. “And you’re right. But we really didn’t do anything that risky.”

  “What about chasing after that lawyer? How do you know that he wasn’t dangerous? You ended up essentially alone in an alley with him.”

  “Well, the only thing he threatened me with was a lawsuit.”

  “But you had no way of knowing how that was going to turn out. And obviously, it wasn’t hard for him to notice that you were following him. You would have failed your first class in tailing suspects.”

  “You’re right,” she said, completely deflated. “I feel pretty dumb about it now.”

  “I wouldn’t say you’re dumb. But Doug Whalen had a lot of enemies, and some of them are not very nice people. I would hate to see you and your friend get mixed up with any of those characters.”

  So, he has heard rumours! Margaret’s interest was sparked again, despite the lecture. “I heard that,” she said. “A lot of people are linking him with organized crime. I wouldn’t have thought a city this small would even have that much to do with that kind of thing.”

  Jimmy hit the brakes and pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road. For a moment she thought he was trying to avoid a moose. Then, as he very carefully put the truck in park and turned to glare at her, she shrank inside. He suddenly laughed. “You are incorrigible!” he said and Margaret realized she had been holding her breath. “Still trying to pry information out of me. You didn’t mean a word of all that humble pie stuff.”

  “Yes, I did,” she stammered. “It’s just that . . .”

  “Save it. I won’t believe you anyway. Since you’re so determined, I’ll tell you. Yes, he was very connected with organized crime, as well as being involved in a number of bad business deals. The police are aware of all of that and are doing a thorough job of investigating. Which means that, best case scenario, you might be interfering with police work and, worst case, you could make this snooping around very hazardous to your health. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes, I hear you,” she said sulkily. Seeing his unconvinced stare she looked him in the eye as she stated firmly, “I get it!”

  “I hope so. If you don’t care about your own safety, think about your friend’s.”

  Without saying any more, he put the truck back in gear and resumed driving. The rest of the trip into town was quiet. Margaret had been hoping to talk to him about Tom, but thought that maybe, under the circumstances, it would be best to let it go for the time being.

  When they arrived at Eina and Roger’s neat, white bungalow, the indoor and outdoor lights were blazing. Margaret saw a curtain move, and an anxious face peered out, which she recognized as Louise’s. She waved to Louise, then turned to Jim.

  “I really do appreciate the ride. You are a lifesaver.”

  “No trouble at all,” he said. “Do you want me to explain about the car to your friend?”

  She smiled at him. “That’s nice of you, but I’ll manage.”<
br />
  “Well, what about tomorrow? Your friend will have to come back to the cottage to retrieve her car. Do you think she’d let me take her out there?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can find it again, now that I’ve been there once.”

  “Well, if you’re sure. But, just in case . . .” He got out his wallet and pulled out a business card. “In case you find yourself in a jam, here’s my number.”

  Touched, Margaret took the card. “Thank you. That’s really generous of you.”

  “Well, somehow your promise to be sensible doesn’t reassure me,” he said, giving her a pointed look.

  She fixed him with her best wounded and innocent expression, but it had no effect. His face was impassive. After a long moment, she laughed.

  “I don’t know whether to be offended or grateful. Anyway, I appreciate your concern. It’s been great meeting you. And thank you for the ride home.”

  Margaret slid out the passenger side and waved goodbye before heading up the walk. The front door opened before she made it up the steps. Louise and Eina greeted her simultaneously.

  “Margaret! Thank goodness you’re okay.”

  “Why didn’t you call? We were worried.”

  “Who is that man? Where is the car?”

  “Did you have an accident?”

  “No, not an accident,” Margaret said, answering the last question first. “I’m sorry. I had no way of contacting you. I spent the day at Tom Derosier’s camp. He doesn’t have a phone.”

  “But what happened to the car?”

  “For heaven’s sake, at least let her get in the door and give her a chance to tell the story,” Roger’s voice drifted out from the kitchen.

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry. Would you like a cup of tea? Roger, put on the kettle. Margaret, sit down. Can we get you anything?”

  “I’m fine.” Margaret settled herself on the sofa while Louise and Eina sat down opposite her, their faces shining with eagerness to hear her story.

  “Was that Tom Derosier who dropped you off?” asked Eina. “He’s a good-looking man, isn’t he?”

  “No, and yes. No, that wasn’t Tom, and yes, he’s good-looking. That was Tom’s friend Jim. He’s a retired police officer.”

  Her two friends looked at her in alarm.

  “What happened?”

  “So you were in an accident!”

  “Quit flapping about. She said he was a retired officer,” Roger reminded them, walking out of the kitchen to sit down beside his wife.

  As concisely as she could, Margaret relayed the events of the day. “I’m so sorry, Louise. I feel awful about this,” she concluded.

  Louise waved her hand dismissively. “You didn’t do anything wrong. These things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay. We were worried about you.”

  “Thank you,” Margaret said. “But what about your car?”

  “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

  “Oh, how’s Vince doing?” Margaret said, suddenly remembering.

  Louise was spooning sugar into her tea. She stirred as she answered. “The vet says he’s running a slight fever, but it doesn’t seem too serious. She’s keeping him for a day or two to run some tests and keep him under observation.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring, isn’t it?” Margaret prompted, looking at Louise, wondering how worried she was.

  “Absolutely!” Louise said firmly, trying to look confident.

  The next morning Roger, Eina, and Margaret set out together in Eina’s car, on a search and rescue mission for Louise’s Mazda. They were armed with Eina’s cell phone, a length of hose, a jerry can, and a box of Roger’s tools. Although Louise was eaten up with curiosity to meet Tom and see the retreat where he created his paintings, she was waiting to hear from the vet.

  “We’ll take you over to the vet as soon as we get back,” Eina promised.

  “Oh, I know. But I know I just wouldn’t be able to relax, thinking about Vince and wondering how he’s doing. I just don’t want to be that far away.”

  Understanding her concerns, they pulled out of the driveway with a final wave to Louise, heading first to a gas station inside the city to fill the jerry can, then to pick up some gas line cleaner. The drive out to Tom’s camp seemed shorter to Margaret than it had the day before. With Roger and Eina along, it certainly lacked the same sense of adventure she had felt yesterday, driving by herself into the unknown. Instead of searching for the hideaway of her long time hero, she was on a more prosaic mission to locate her friend’s dysfunctional car and bring it home.

  “So, tell me, what’s Tom like?” asked Eina, turning around from her spot in the passenger seat to address Margaret in the back.

  “He’s very gracious. I mean, he could have been annoyed at my showing up and intruding on his privacy, but instead he treated me like an honoured guest.”

  Eina made an impatient motion with her hand, causing the coffee in her traveller’s mug to slosh dangerously. “No, no, I mean, what does he look like? Is he good-looking?”

  “Haven’t you seen pictures of him before? He’s been on TVO.”

  “No. I don’t follow the art world.”

  “Well, he’s nice-enough looking,” Margaret said noncommittally.

  “What does nice enough mean?’”

  “Just what it sounds like.” Margaret didn’t feel like feeding Eina’s over-active imagination.

  “Aha!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Margaret was getting annoyed.

  “That means he’s hot, and you’re being evasive about it.” Eina chortled.

  Roger came to Margaret’s rescue. “For Pete’s sake, Eina, give it a rest. Who wouldn’t be evasive around you? Settle down, and enjoy the scenery.”

  Eina subsided. Grateful for the silence, Margaret looked out the window, watching the fields of black-eyed Susans flow by, and wondered what the Impressionists would have done with a view like that. As they got closer, Margaret pointed out the camper’s store where she had filled up the car. When they reached the spot where Louise’s car sat, covered in a light layer of road dust, it was already hot outside, even though it was only ten in the morning. Crickets, hidden in the long grass, made their presence known to the newcomers.

  While Roger set to work, siphoning the old gasoline from the Mazda, Margaret and Eina walked the short distance to Tom’s cottage. To their disappointment, his truck wasn’t parked in its spot behind the camp, and Sandy didn’t come barking and bounding up to greet them.

  “Darn!” said Eina. “I was really looking forward to meeting him.”

  Margaret said nothing. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she had been looking forward to seeing Tom again. The place looked suddenly small and forlorn without its owner.

  “Maybe you could show me his pictures,” said Eina.

  “I’m sure his studio is locked up,” Margaret said. “His paintings are too valuable to leave lying around.”

  Still, they walked over to the small shed, which was, sure enough, securely locked. The curtains were drawn on every window, so they didn’t even have the satisfaction of sneaking a peek.

  “So much for that,” Margaret said, trying not to show her disappointment. “We might as well check on Roger.”

  Roger was making good progress. Having already siphoned the gas tank, then refilled it from the jerry can, he was adding the gas cleaner as they approached. As Margaret and Eina watched, he tried out the motor. To their relief, the engine started easily and purred contentedly, like a cat with a bowl of rich cream.

  “That did ‘er!” Roger chortled.

  “That’s it, then? That’s all that was wrong?” Margaret said. Despite her disappointment over Tom’s absence, a wave of relief washed over her that she hadn’t done something terrible to Louise’s car.

  “It’s amazing what a little bit of dirty gasoline can do,” said Roger. “If the pumps at the Camper’s Store are old and corroded, stuff can get into your gas tank and cause trouble. It�
��s like getting water in your gas line. Easily fixed, though. I didn’t think it would be anything mechanical. The car’s not brand new, but it’s not that old either.”

  “Well, I’m so relieved. I was sweating bullets worried that I’d wrecked Louise’s car. Even so, it’s still been a major inconvenience for you.”

  Roger shrugged. “No problem. Great day for a drive in the country.”

  “You guys are too good to be true,” Margaret said, with a rush of gratitude. “Anyway, we missed Tom, but let me just write a note letting him know we got the car, so that he won’t think someone stole it.”

  That required a search for paper, since she hadn’t anticipated Tom’s absence. Eventually Eina found a used envelope in her purse. Margaret opened the envelope, spread it flat, and wrote:

  Tom,

  Sorry we missed you. My friends came out with me this morning, and you were right—it was the gas. Anyway, Roger was able to fix it, and we’re headed back to town. Thanks again for everything. See you in January.

  Regards,

  Margaret.

  She looked at her messy scrawl scribbled on the inside of a torn envelope. “Now that’s class,” she said wryly. “And they say the art of letter-writing is dead.”

  She walked back to the camp, and put the note on the doorstep, weighing it down with a rock. Margaret drove the Mazda back with Eina riding shotgun, while Roger followed behind them in his truck. Margaret had been less than thrilled about that arrangement, fearing Eina would start pestering her again about Tom. Fortunately, Eina’s thoughts had moved on from that subject.

  “I hope Vince is doing better today,” she said. “Louise has been so depressed and worried about him. I was thinking we should go to The Global Village for coffee this afternoon. I’ve been wanting to take you both there since you got to town, and it might be a nice distraction for Louise.”

  “That sounds good,” Margaret agreed. “I’d love to see it. And I’m sure it will cheer Louise up.”

  Chapter Ten

  A radiant Louise greeted them when they arrived at the house. “Good news!” she called from the doorway as they emerged from their respective vehicles. “Vince is improving immensely. Dr. Lai thinks I can probably pick him up tomorrow morning!”