Bearly Departed

by Meg Macy

  “Come in, come in! Ben Blake, good to see you again,” Dad said, and shook hands with him. “Haven’t seen much of you since you opened the pharmacy. Of course, we moved to Florida shortly after that. How are things with you?”

  “Very well, sir.”

  “Aw, you’re not a high school senior anymore.” He turned to Wendy. “We’ve never met, have we? Alex Silverman. And this is my wife, Judith.”

  “So nice to meet you. I’m a cake decorator, formerly at the Pretty in Pink bakery.” She glanced at me and winked. “Here’s hoping Mary Kate hires me tomorrow.”

  “She will in a heartbeat,” Maddie said. “And thanks for helping with the picnic today.” My sister took the bags from Wendy and beckoned them both to follow her. “Let’s get it dished out.”

  “I’ll make extra rice,” I said weakly.

  Still numb from my parents’ sudden arrival, I groped through the pantry shelves. Dad had sidetracked Ben into the dining room to catch up on the latest news, politics, and no doubt the stock market. Mom grabbed Wendy and led her out of the kitchen as well.

  “You’re a guest. Plus you’ve already helped enough at the picnic.”

  Since I wasn’t thinking clearly, Maddie reached past me to grab the rice behind a red box of crackers. She fetched a pot, its lid, and a measuring cup. I sank on a stool at the island. I was so tired. Beyond tired. But that didn’t stop me from puzzling over the latest developments. Plus my parents’ sudden arrival.

  “Did Mom say how long they’re staying?” I asked.

  “Probably until Uncle Ross is in the clear, but who knows. Dad refused to go home, even though Mom had already rented a car. You know how she hates to fly.”

  “Only with a drink or two, and a Xanax.”

  “Yeah. She wasn’t a happy camper about taking a plane to Metro Airport.” Maddie turned the faucet on. “Dad insisted on coming here. He said it wasn’t fair to us that Mom wouldn’t take our calls, and that she kept him in the dark about what happened to Will Taylor.”

  “You’re not telling me everything. Spill it.”

  She set the pot of water on the stove burner and adjusted the flame beneath it. “First off, Dad’s really mad about Will talking to Teddy Hartman. He called the guy, but Hartman refused to tell him anything. He said what was done is done, now that Will’s dead. Water under the bridge.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Wait till I tell him about all the fliers Hartman was passing out during the parade. Anything else?”

  “Dad talked about filing a lawsuit against Bears of the Heart, although there probably isn’t much to go on.” Maddie measured out three cups of rice next and set it aside, waiting for the water to boil. “Of course, that doesn’t mean he ever will.”

  “I take it Flynn offered his services. I still don’t get why he’s moving here, of all places. I can see Chicago or even one of the Detroit suburbs. But here?”

  “I guess Dad put him on retainer.”

  “A personal injury lawyer?” I shook my head. “Oh, brother.”

  “Oh, sister, it gets worse,” Maddie said.

  “How? I mean, Flynn does have criminal experience in court, but not in murder trials. Unless he’s branched out.” I waited for her to explain, but she was busy pouring rice into the boiling water. Maddie stirred, turned down the heat a little, clapped a lid on, and set the timer. “You could have used the microwave, you know. Faster and easier.”

  “Fluffier this way. Twenty minutes, so keep an eye on the clock. We’ll have to warm up all the Chinese food, too.” She ran a hand through her short dark hair. “Okay. Mom heard from Mrs. Davison that Flynn is joining the Legal Eagles.”

  My jaw dropped. “You’re not kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  Knowing my ex-husband was hundreds of miles away in Florida had helped me recover from his betrayal. Now his move to Michigan—to Ann Arbor, no less—meant seeing him more often. That was certain, not even a remote possibility. And now he’d be working in Silver Hollow and billing my dad for high-priced hours of legal advice. My gut twisted. What a day this was turning out to be, and far worse than last Thursday night after finding Will dead.

  Maddie transferred the cashew chicken into a bowl and set it in the microwave. “So tell me about the drowning victim at the park.”

  “Detective Mason said they had to notify next of kin first.” I slowly rose to my feet and gathered plates and flatware. “I’m more angry that someone, either Will or Alan or Pete—or maybe all three of them—used our teddy bears to hide drugs.”

  “Sick, isn’t it? I hope people don’t blame us for that.”

  “Mason doubts the lab can get fingerprints off the gym bag’s fabric. So we’re back to theories about who’s selling the drugs, and who killed Will, and why.”

  “Let me tell you what I heard at the store today,” Maddie said, although first she put the bowl of pepper steak in the microwave. “Uncle Ross was staffing the counter until I fetched some aspirin. So he’s ringing up a few sales, mostly people with our coupons, when I got back. Guess who came waltzing into the shop? Vivian Grant! She wanted a teddy bear for a friend’s baby.”

  I shrugged. “Okay, then what?”

  “She was all up in arms about her missing son.” Maddie put the pork fried rice in to reheat next. “Vivian swore that Alan didn’t run over our mailbox. She said Pete Fox had borrowed her son’s car—”

  “Wait, he was arrested Thursday night.”

  “Yeah, but supposedly he had the car before his arrest. I guess that’s what she meant. That Pete crashed into the mailbox.”

  “Hmm. I wonder where the cops found Alan’s car, and if it was anywhere near the spot the cops picked up Pete. It’s possible, I suppose. I also heard that Alan once threatened to kill Will for dating his mom. I wonder if that’s true.”

  Wendy poked her head into the kitchen. “I overheard Vivian a few times on the phone, just last week, telling people that Will was planning to divorce Carolyn. She said he promised to marry her.”

  “Whoa.” Maddie retrieved the last bowl of sweet-and-sour chicken from the microwave. “The rice is done. Let’s eat in the kitchen. Maybe one day I’ll get Will sitting at the dining room table out of my head, and arguing with us.”

  I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  Wendy helped set out plates, flatware, napkins, and glasses, buffet-style, on the granite counter. I set down a huge pitcher of iced tea floating with lemons. Mom didn’t say a word about not using the dining room, but I could tell she wasn’t pleased. She hadn’t mellowed one bit. But she did take a normal-size helping of pepper steak instead of a tiny spoonful.

  Silence surrounded us while we ate, along with rising tension. “This is great after that hospital stuff they called food,” Dad finally said. He coughed, another long bout. “Pass the rice, please.”

  “You’ll need a breathing treatment in an hour.” Mom’s tone sounded flat. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”

  “And a good night’s sleep. Now, about Will Taylor—”

  “We’re eating, Alex,” she interrupted, but he sailed on.

  “I trusted the man since I first hired him. Treated him like a son. How could he pull the wool over my eyes like that? Steamroll over us all like the business was his to do as he pleased? And then trying to sell our bear pattern.”

  “Ben didn’t tell me what happened at the factory, about how Will was murdered,” Wendy said, so Maddie gave her a brief summary. “Wow. I wonder if Will gave Alan and Pete the bears to use?”

  “I can tell you this.” Dad wiped his mouth. “Will never said he was unhappy working as our sales rep. I raised his salary twice. But I know well enough he resented Ross. Why, I don’t know, but they didn’t get along. It’s amazing that he had the nerve to take steps and force my brother out the door.”

  “That surprised us, too. Will made it sound like you supported his plans.”

  The screen door banged open. Rosie rose up from her spot under the table, but sh
e wagged her tail instead of barking. Uncle Ross stomped into the kitchen, his Hawaiian shirt damp under the arms. He raised both hands like a martyr.

  “I heard that last bit on the porch. That really got me, Alex—the whole idea that you were on board with a blowhard like Will Taylor!”

  “It wasn’t true,” Dad said. “I told you it was my mistake. I should have been clearer to him that I disagreed.”

  That didn’t seem to pacify Uncle Ross. “I’m gonna say it, even if it makes me look bad. I’m not sorry Taylor’s dead. In fact, I wish I had killed him.”

  Chapter 24

  “Helluva thing to say, Ross.” Dad rose and shook hands with his brother. “Glad you stopped by, but how’d you know we were here?”

  “I didn’t. Heard there was trouble at the picnic.” He looked at me. “Someone drowned in the river? I didn’t think you used the area near it.”

  “No one drowned,” I said, “from our group anyway. I read that a woman was reported missing last week. Her car was found by the side of U.S.-23. I’m hopin it’s not her, but it’s possible.”

  Ben nodded to Wendy. “Well, we’d better get home.”

  “No need to eat and run,” Dad said, but they both insisted. “Then let me pay for the food you brought. That was really kind of you to bring it.”

  “My treat, Mr. Silverman,” Ben said. “Thanks again.”

  We all thanked them both before they departed. Maybe Ben sensed the family needed to talk without non-family members listening. Wendy had squeezed my hand and whispered, “Text me if you need anything,” on the way out. I was so grateful for that.

  Uncle Ross sat with an exaggerated sigh at the island. Mom fetched him a beer from the refrigerator, popped the top, and set the frosted bottle before him. I glanced at Maddie, who hadn’t been paying attention. She scooped the last of her pepper steak and washed it down with iced tea. When Mom reached over and pushed a strand of hair behind Maddie’s ear, my stomach twisted.

  Uncle Ross swigged his beer. “Nothing but fortune cookies left? I didn’t get a chance to grab a burger at the diner.”

  “Plenty of leftovers.” Maddie hurried to make him a plate.

  “So explain to me again, Bro, why you let Will Taylor think he was running the show around here,” my uncle said.

  “I’m sorry, Ross, really sorry,” Dad said. “The last few months, I’ve been feeling lousy. The trade show was supposed to be easy, so I went. Then, wham, next thing I know I’m in the hospital with pneumonia. Judith didn’t want me to go in the first place.”

  Mom shook a finger at him. “Good thing I came along, or you’d be six feet under by now from not getting antibiotics in time. And I was there at the hotel when he met with Will Taylor, Ross. The man was relentless. Alex tried to put him off, but Will kept pushing for an answer about how Chinese workers would be cheaper, faster, and give us more profit, et cetera.”

  Dad frowned. “He convinced you it was a good idea.”

  Uncle Ross crushed a fortune cookie in his fist. “You believed him, Judith? Why the hell would you?”

  The underlying tension rose to the surface in a heated exchange. “Because Alex is supposed to be retired,” she shot back. “He promised we’d do so much together, but he hasn’t. So far, I’ve had to visit the Tiffany museum, Busch Gardens, and even Harry Potter World by myself.”

  “You’re busy ten to twelve hours a day,” Dad said, waving a hand in dismissal. “Whenever I do suggest a trip, you have a book club meeting planned, or lunch with the girls, or a shopping trip.”

  “How about playing golf? You promised we’d take lessons!”

  “And we will. The only reason you came with me to New Jersey was to shop for tax-free clothing and shoes.”

  “Can we get back to Will Taylor?” I asked, impatient, and explained about seeing Teddy Hartman at the parade. “He said business is business. And it’s a cutthroat one, so he and Will planned to merge eventually.”

  Dad took a deep breath. “Will never once said anything to me about talking to Hartman. Which is why I’m going to sue the living daylights out of that blackguard. He should have realized Will didn’t have a leg to stand on, sending production to China without my approval.”

  “Hartman’s a sneaky bast—devil,” Uncle Ross amended after a glare from Mom. “Will wanted to control the business by getting rid of me. I bet he figured he’d roll over Sasha easy when that happened and do whatever he wanted.”

  “That wasn’t going to happen,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Maddie said in support. “You should have seen and heard her Thursday night at the meeting! Flat out told Will that no one would lose their jobs, and that nothing would change until we talked to you first.”

  Dad smiled. “Sasha’s doing a fine job.”

  “Given what I heard about the picnic, I’d agree,” Uncle Ross said.

  “Dad, did you hear about the teddy bear we found beside Will in the factory Thursday night?” I explained the possibility of drug residue being found inside the cavity, and the gym bag we’d found at the park with more bears and drugs. “Things are far more complicated than we first thought.”

  “But we don’t know for sure if Will was involved,” Maddie said.

  “Okay, but what if he discovered that Alan and Pete sold drugs to the high school kids? Maybe they struck a deal. Will would supply the bears, and they’d split the profits.”

  “Until Pete Fox was arrested in Detroit,” Uncle Ross said.

  “And Will was murdered. Did you know Alan Grant is missing?” Everyone looked at me. “I think they must have been working together.”

  “It’s a good theory,” Dad said. “But we’ll have to let the police handle it.”

  “Alan or Pete met Will Thursday night,” I said. “Or both of them. And the police did link Alan’s car to the damaged mailbox.”

  Mom sighed. “I’m so tired of all this talk about drugs and dead bodies.”

  “I hired Jay Kirby to create a new mailbox,” Maddie said suddenly. “I forgot to tell you, Sash, that I saw him today in the village. I can’t wait to see his design.”

  “That woodsman who calls himself an artist?” Uncle Ross snorted with laughter. “Wears sandals in the winter, and shorts? Lives in some barn beyond Richardson’s Farms and uses a chain saw for most of his work.”

  “You’re the last one who should talk, wearing that silly cap all the time.” Dad grinned. “We should have hired Kirby when we had that tree in front cut down. He could have carved it into a teddy bear and put the mailbox on top. So, Maddie. How much is he charging?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I told him we wanted the box for mail inside the teddy bear’s open mouth. How cute is that?”

  The men groaned, although Mom brightened at the news. “Adorable!”

  Good thing I didn’t mention that I’d come up with the idea. Mom wouldn’t have been as thrilled. Uncle Ross cleaned his plate and wiped sauce with one of the huge rolls China Palace sent with the food. Dad pushed his half-eaten egg roll aside.

  “So, let’s get back to the theories about Will’s murder.”

  “Must we talk about it?” Mom sighed.

  Dad ignored that. “Let’s say he was involved in selling the pot. And found out Pete and Alan were skimming the profits.”

  “Or dipping in the stash for their personal use,” Uncle Ross said. “That might have led to an argument. And murder, if things went south.”

  “But Detective Mason told me Will didn’t fight being dragged over to the stuffing machine,” I said. “There wasn’t any trauma or injuries on him, anywhere. And what killed him was all the fiber crammed in his throat. That was deliberate.”

  “Alexandra!” Mom pushed up from her stool with a frown. “How horrible, to tell us exactly how it happened. I’m done listening to any more talk of murder.”

  “It is horrible. Whoever killed him wanted to make sure he was dead.”

  Dad cleared his throat. “Will did mention something odd at the trade show.
How people he trusted were backstabbing him. Kind of went over my head at the time, but it might have some bearing on all these drug deals.”

  “He was the one backstabbing you,” Uncle Ross said, “especially if he planned to merge the company with Teddy Hartman’s. Probably thought nothing of it, too.”

  “Will’s ego was huge,” I said. “And he always passed the blame to others for his mistakes.”

  “It’s psychological. People rarely believe they’re at fault,” Dad said. “More so if they get involved in wrongdoing. ‘So-and-so cheats me, so I’ll cheat them.’ Or ‘I deserve to take the office supplies because my boss won’t give me a raise.’ ”

  I tapped the table. “I’m wondering if Will wanted to send production overseas, not to make the bears cheaper, but without joints. That way it would be easier to hold the hidden drugs.”

  “His phone calls and texts might be one way we could track how far back he and Teddy Hartman were talking,” my sister suggested.

  “Mason might have done that already, but I can check.”

  “I think if Vivian Grant is so desperate to convince everyone Alan isn’t using drugs, chances are high he is.” Mom stood in the doorway. “Denial is a classic defense.”

  “Hey,” Maddie said. “Remember Vivian got that text during the movie Thursday night, and left early? I wonder if she showed up at the factory to meet Alan.”

  “But we didn’t see any other cars except for Will’s and Alan’s.”

  My sister shrugged. “Well, remember Vivian expected Will to get a divorce and marry her. I wonder if that plan soured, so she took her revenge and killed him.”

  “Mads, are you saying Vivian could be the murderer?” Uncle Ross asked. “You’d think Mason would have figured that out by now.”

  Dad held up a finger. “What about Carolyn Taylor? Mason must have questioned her at some point.”

  “Yes, several times. I was there once,” I replied. “And Uncle Ross saw her at the pub the night of the murder with a group of her friends.”

  “I bet Carolyn would strangle Vivian Grant instead of her husband,” Maddie said. “They had that huge food fight at the bakery. I’m still seeing people reposting photos Carolyn put on Facebook. Once they’re out there, you can never delete them.”