by Jaime Maddox
Pip shook her head and stared again, her eyes unfocused. “No, not an accident. Stephanie was murdered.”
Chapter 4: Ghosts
Even though Ella should have pointed her convertible toward Philadelphia, when she got behind the wheel she didn’t hesitate to drive in the opposite direction. She’d talked with Pip a while longer, already decided that she would house-sit while Pip was away, but she could no longer focus on the details or the conversation. All she could think of was Stephanie Gates, her cherished childhood friend, and the fact that she was dead. Not just dead, though. Murdered. Somehow, that made the reality much worse. Murder seemed even more senseless than cancer and accidental deaths.
Even though it had been so long, Ella felt compelled to talk to Steph’s mom, Sophie. Pip had also mentioned the passing of Steph’s dad, and although Pip didn’t spend much time at the lake anymore, she’d heard rumors that Sophie still lived there, in the same big Mediterranean-style villa Ella recalled from childhood. Ella would go there and talk to Sophie, and offer her belated condolences.
It seemed right that Ella should stop in to say hello. She’d known Steph well, and she’d planned to look her up, so why not her mother? Of course, it was entirely possible that Mrs. Gates wouldn’t remember her or wouldn’t want to talk with her because of the memories a conversation with her would inevitably bring to life. Perhaps she was demented and wouldn’t even remember her daughter.
None of the scenarios she envisioned could stop her from doing what she thought was the right thing. She knew Mrs. Gates and liked her. Because Steph was an only child, she often took friends along on trips, and Ella had been privileged to enjoy Hershey Park with the Gates family, as well as Niagara Falls, Nantucket, and Cape May. Not to mention the hundreds of sleepovers and thousands of hot dogs she’d consumed on the Gateses’ patio.
Mrs. Gates, she immediately realized, was a big part of her childhood, too.
It was a gorgeous day to take the top down, and the ride was peaceful. It had been more than thirty years since she’d visited the lake, and she’d never driven there, so Ella relied on her GPS to guide her from Scranton. Once the car rounded that last bend and the lake came into view, her instincts took over. She’d navigated that stretch of road hundreds of times, on her bike and on foot, and she knew exactly how to get to Sophie Gates’s place.
Slowing the car in front of her grandparents’ former house, she marveled at the changes. Someone had put love and money into restoring the old Craftsman cottage, and it gleamed with fresh paint. Flowers poured from baskets hanging from the porch eaves, and children’s toys dotted the yard.
Her father had often talked about his childhood at Lake Winola, and Ella and her sister had treasured memories as well. It was good that another generation of kids had the same opportunity to enjoy it as they had.
Pulling the car ahead a hundred yards, Ella caught sight of the Gates place. The house was much as she remembered it, the classic Mediterranean style making it difficult to tell if the house was five years old or fifty. Ella parked on the macadam driveway before the garage doors and looked around. Lush green landscaping dominated the front property, with intermittent splashes of color provided by thick beds of flowers. Was Sophie a gardener, or did she hire one? Ella’s memory failed her on that point, but clearly someone was taking good care of the landscaping.
Hesitating just a moment, she exited the convertible and rang the bell. It took a minute, but Ella could hear footsteps approaching and was filled with a strange sense of dread. All of a sudden, this visit seemed like a stupid idea. What was she doing here?
Before she could further debate the question or change her mind and leave, the lace curtain on the glass-paneled door was pushed aside, and a familiar face peeked through. It had been a long time since she’d seen her, but Sophie looked the same. Older—brown hair had been replaced by white, and she had more wrinkles—but Ella would have recognized her anywhere. Another emotion replaced her dissolving anxiety—sadness, perhaps? Ella didn’t have time to examine it before Sophie unlocked the heavy door and pulled it back, assessing her.
“Hi, Mrs. Gates. I’m Ella Townes.” Pointing across her body to the left, she said, “I used to live over there. Carl and Liz’s granddaughter.”
“Say it again,” she said.
“Ella. Townes.”
The light of recognition flushed her face, and she smiled. “Ella! Look at you, all grown up. Come in, come in!”
Ella followed and wasn’t surprised to see that Sophie’s house hadn’t changed much over the years. Her job took her through the front doors of many homes, and it wasn’t unusual for someone Sophie’s age to lose appreciation for the latest fads and keep things as they were.
Heading toward the kitchen, Sophie paused a few times to look at Ella. “I can’t believe you’re here. I still miss your grandmother. She was one of my favorite people.”
“It was a shock when they both died so suddenly,” Ella said through tears that suddenly filled her throat. Being back at the lake and remembering her grandparents brought back memories she hadn’t expected. The tears, she realized, were not all happy ones. They’d died, and she’d never had a chance to come back to say good-bye to her lake friends. She’d spent ten of her summers there, and if her dad’s parents had lived, she would probably have spent another dozen.
As if understanding her earlier thoughts, Sophie nodded. “The house changed hands a few times, and a few years back I finally bought it. The family I rent to is really sweet. The wife looks out for me, and the kids remind me of you guys when you were small. They’re everywhere, little bundles of energy on the move from dawn ’til dusk.”
“That’s good.” She wasn’t sure why, but she hated the thought of weekenders living in the house, using it for parties but not really loving it the way her family had. For a moment, she cursed her dad and his sister for selling it after their parents’ death, but she knew in her heart it was the right move. They were too busy for a lake house in a remote corner of Northeastern Pennsylvania, and too poor to pay someone else to care for it in their absence.
After instructing Ella to sit in the sunroom beside the kitchen, Sophie procured two glasses and filled them with home-brewed tea, then pulled cookies from a plastic container and plated them. When she was done, she sat across from Ella and studied her.
“Your hair’s lighter. You must color it.” She didn’t wait for a reply. “And you don’t wear a ring, so you must not be married. Other than that, I don’t know a thing about you. What’s become of you? What are you doing here?”
“You’re right about the hair and the marital status. To answer the last question, I just got a job at Pocono Mountains University, and when I thought of moving back, the first person I wanted to reconnect with was Stephanie.” Ella swallowed. “I’m so sorry to hear about her, Mrs. Gates. I had to come over and say hello to you and tell you how much I treasured her friendship. Even though we were only kids, I’ve thought about her my entire life.”
If Sophie felt any emotions at the mention of her dead daughter, she hid them well. “How sweet of you! I do so love to see Steph’s friends as they grow. It helps me think of what she’d be like now. Keeps her fresh in my mind, you see.”
“I think it could be painful for some people. I’m glad it’s not for you.”
“Oh, it’s painful, Ella. How could it not be? But when you say something so kind, like you think of her, it lightens my heart. I know a little piece of her is still alive in you.”
Mrs. Gates might not have teared up, but Ella did, and she used one of the napkins Mrs. Gates had provided to dry her eyes. Mrs. Gates patted her hand. “Steph was a wonderful girl, Mrs. Gates. She was kind. So kind to everyone. And fun. We had so many adventures as kids—treasure hunts and obstacle courses and bike races. Remember when we held the ‘Tour de Winola’? There must have been a hundred people out on their bikes that day.”
Sophie nodded. “I think she charged a quarter to enter the race and dona
ted twenty dollars to the animal shelter.”
Ella nodded. “I remember!” Together, they had designed a poster, and her father had printed copies at his office. All the neighborhood kids had hung them around the lake, and they carefully mapped the course. It had been a huge event, followed by drinks and cookies at Bucky’s house.
“They still have it. The race. Every year on the Fourth of July weekend. Hundreds of people of all ages. Most people don’t remember that two eight-year-old girls started it. Some of the old gang still ride in it.”
“Do you see her friends often?” Ella asked. The lake was a small community, so it wouldn’t have surprised her.
“From time to time. Valerie still lives here, and she runs me to the doctor and takes me for groceries. Bucky treats me to lunch every week. I think he and Steph were secretly dating. He still seems to be in love with her, all these years later.”
“I suppose he had a crush on her even when we were eight years old,” Ella said. Long after the other kids went home, Bucky had hung around, typically agreeing to do whatever Steph wanted. If he’d been invited, Ella had no doubt he would have come to their sleepovers, too.
“I still see some of her high school friends, too. I don’t think you’d know them. Most of them were from town, not from the lake.”
Ella bit into a jelly-filled cookie and looked out the window toward the lake. Steph’s tree house was gone, but she could imagine just where it was, could still see the panoramic view of the lake from up there. Even from here, the sight was magnificent, with an expanse of water just beyond the boat dock, cottages and homes in the distance around the shore, and a cloudless blue sky framing distant mountains.
Noticing her stare, Mrs. Gates turned and shared the vision. “It’s why I stay here,” she said. “The view. There’s nothing like it.”
“It is something. I’ve remembered it my whole life. I’m sorry I didn’t drive up here years ago.”
Mrs. Gates patted her hand.
“Do you still own the print shop?” Ella asked, feeling a change of subject was in order.
“No. We sold it a few years ago. It just got to be too much, driving back and forth to Scranton, holding meetings, disciplining employees. Who needs the aggravation?”
Ella chuckled. “It must have changed over the years, with everyone owning personal computers and printers.”
“That didn’t impact our business very much. We did more commercial stuff. But we went into business at a good time, when there was some profit to be made, and we sold it at a good time, too. How about you? What do you do at the university?” she asked.
“I’m the new vice president of development,” she said, and explained a little about her job.
“Is it hard? To ask people for money, I mean?”
Ella shook her head. “Surprisingly, no. Many people want to give, and I help them figure out how to do it. I help them create their legacies, and that makes most people very happy. Long after they’re gone, they’ll live on in a young doctor or artist whose education they helped provide. And of course, they get their names on a big plaque, too.” Ella winked.
“I see,” she said as she nibbled a cookie, seeming to digest the thought as well.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked about Steph,” she said a moment later.
Ella knew just what Sophie meant. But she hadn’t wanted to come in and seem like a gossip, eager for juicy details about her friend’s murder. She’d come to honor Steph and, in a sense, pay her respects. Even if she’d died years ago, she’d been alive to Ella. To her, Steph had only died an hour earlier when Pip told her the news. “I didn’t think it was polite.”
“It’s not hard to talk about her. Remember, that’s what keeps her alive.”
“Even speaking about her death?”
“It’s therapeutic. And I keep hoping that someday, someone will come forward and give us some piece of information to help solve the crime. And as long as I keep it simmering, instead of letting it rest, that might happen.”
Ella hesitated just a moment, unsure if she really wanted to know. Not only had Steph been murdered, but her killer hadn’t been caught. How awful for Steph. How awful for her mother. Would discussing it really be okay? After a moment, she decided to take the chance. Telling her seemed to be important to Sophie. “What happened to her?”
“An intruder murdered her. He’s never been caught. There had been a few break-ins around the mountains, and the police think she surprised a burglar. Steve and I were out at a party, and she was home alone. In her room, studying. Even though the lights were on, there were no cars in the drive, and he must have thought the house was empty. She startled him, and he hit her over the head. The coroner said she died instantly.”
How dreadful, Ella thought. Steph had always been petite and would probably have had little chance of her fending off an intruder. Just like her, though, to go down trying, instead of hiding in her closet hoping he’d go away. “It’s so awful. I can’t believe that happened to her. It’s hard to imagine someone you know being murdered. How old was she?”
“Seventeen. It happened just a few weeks before she would have graduated from high school.”
Shaking her head, Ella closed her eyes. It was just so sad. Steph hadn’t even had a chance to live her life. “What were her plans, Mrs. Gates? Did she still want to be a vet?”
Mrs. Gates nodded enthusiastically. “She sure did! She was at the top of her class, on her way to college on a full scholarship. After that, vet school.”
Remembering, Ella nodded. “It was what she always wanted.”
“She was a determined young woman. Had it all planned, even picked out office space next to the print shop, so she could have lunch with her father every day.”
“Sounds like she had it all worked out,” Ella said softly, sorry for the dreams that had died with Steph. The animal kingdom had lost a friend, too.
“I’ve no doubt all her dreams would have come true, if someone hadn’t stolen her from us.”
“From what I remember, I think you’re right. And they never found him? The burglar?” It seemed strange to say the murderer.
“There was really no evidence. It was raining, so no one was out and about to see anything. If he left footprints, they were washed away. She didn’t put up a fight, so they didn’t find any of the killer’s blood or skin under her nails. Not much to go on.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“Yes. But I keep hoping. Someone may know something. Someone must know something. Jewelry was stolen—that’s never turned up. The killer most likely had her blood on him.”
Ella didn’t want to point out the obvious, that an eye witness coming forward at this point was unlikely. But if Sophie needed to hold on to her hope, Ella wouldn’t try to change her mind. She was surprised by what Sophie said next.
“They’re going to reopen the investigation.”
“Really?”
“The sitting DA is retiring at the end of his term. Bucky is running for the position, and one of his campaign promises is to try to solve cold cases. Steph’s is one of them.”
“Well, good for Bucky! I hope he wins. And I hope he finds some answers for you.”
In spite of her claim that talking about Steph was a good thing, the conversation seemed to tire Sophie. “I should get going,” Ella said a moment later.
Sophie didn’t argue with her. “I’m happy you stopped by today, Ella. Will you come again?”
After exchanging numbers, and hugs, and promising to see each other again, Ella headed out the door.
Chapter 5: Take Me Out
“To Ella. Now that you’re moving away, we’ll probably see you more than we do now! Good luck!”
Ella laughed at her friend Gary’s toast and raised her champagne glass, circling it in the direction of the dozen or so friends who’d gathered to wish her well.
“I’m going to miss you guys!” she said, suddenly regretting what an awful friend she was. She’d known m
ost of the people on Gary’s patio for twenty years, yet she saw them only on occasions like this—when someone was transferred because of work or moving because of a breakup. Fortunately, they hadn’t gathered to bid any permanent good-byes yet, but Ella couldn’t deny that inevitability. Plenty of people died in their forties—one of them was bound to be someone she knew. Hell, Steph Gates had died in her teens. She’d tried to wrap her mind around that thought as she’d packed for the move and concluded that she just couldn’t do it. Even after talking with Steph’s mom, the edges of reality were too sharp to settle into her mind.
“If the Phils ever make the playoffs again, you’ll come back, won’t you?” her friend Joanne asked.
Ella hung her arm over Joanne’s shoulder. “If that should ever happen, because miracles do happen, I will be here, babe.”
“It’s so strange to think of you leaving. A month ago, we were in Rehoboth and you didn’t mention a thing. Now…”
Ella offered a hint of a smile as she answered. “I didn’t think I was unhappy. I’m not. Unhappy. I’m just…missing something, I guess. And when this job opportunity came across my desk, I thought of my grandparents and the great times I had up there as a kid, and I had to check it out. And, well, the rest was easy.”
“So you think you’ll find this missing something there? In the middle of nowhere? What are you looking for, a wild animal?”
Ella laughed. “I think it’s more of a professional something. A chance to prove myself and move up the ladder a little higher.”
“How much higher can you go? You’re already super important and successful.”
“This is about it, unless I move to a much bigger school.”
“Is that on the agenda?”
Ella thought about it for a moment, sipping her champagne and savoring the little explosion in her mouth before swallowing. All of her thoughts of PMU had felt so comfortable to her that she honestly believed like it was a destination for her, not a stop on the road. That wasn’t the case with her current job, where she constantly found herself reading the professional journals “just to see” what positions were available. Her new job could turn out to be a disaster, and if it was, she’d do the best she could for as long as she could until she found something else suitable, and she’d move on. After meeting with the president, though, and meeting the Ryans, and driving around the mountains, she sensed everything would work out just fine.
