by Sofie Kelly
“I’m going to try not to worry and hover,” I said. Beside me Mary made a strangled sound in her throat. I looked at her, narrowing my eyes.
She put one hand on her chest. “It’s dry in here,” she said. “Got a little frog in my throat.”
I turned back to Mia, who was still smiling. “If you need anything I’m going to trust you to ask.”
The phone rang then at the circulation desk. “I’ll get that,” Mary said, bustling across the tile floor.
“There is one thing,” Mia said, ducking her head. “You can say no if you want to.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Would it be too weird? Would you sit with Dad and me at the service on Friday?”
Simon had told me that since Mayville Heights was where Leo had grown up, he and Mia had decided here was where his father should be buried.
“Of course,” I said. I’d been planning on going to the service for Leo and if I could be there for Mia—and Simon—I was happy to. I’d felt helpless from the moment I’d found Leo Janes’s body and I was glad to finally be able to do something that might make a difference to Mia.
• • •
I stopped at the library after tai chi class to check on Mia. According to Abigail, she was handling being at the library just fine. While I was there I noticed more than one person share their sympathies with her and it seemed to do her good to hear how many people had known and liked her grandfather. The next evening went just as well.
Thursday night after tai chi I drove out to Marcus’s house.
He had called just as I was leaving for class. “I haven’t seen you in days,” he’d said. “I have pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies.”
“Well, for cookies I guess I could drive out,” I’d teased.
Marcus was just ending a conversation on his cell when I stepped into the kitchen. He looked tired, I thought. There were shadows under his eyes and I could see that he’d run his hands through his hair multiple times.
“Hope says hello,” he said, setting his cell on the table. He leaned forward to kiss me.
“How’s she’s doing?” I asked.
“Good.” His mouth twisted to one side. “I think. She said physio is going well, but you know what Hope’s like. She keeps things pretty much to herself.”
I nodded. He was right about his partner. She did keep things to herself, which was why he had no idea she’d been in love with him for years. “You called her to talk about the case,” I said, hanging my purse on the back of the closest chair.
“I did want to see how she was, but yeah, I wanted to run the case by her as well.”
“Do you have any suspects?” I asked.
Marcus hesitated. I waited for him to say he couldn’t talk about the case the way he had so many times in the past. But instead he said, “You’re not going to like it.”
I pulled off my jacket and put it on the back of the chair as well, to buy a little time. I realized he had to be referring to Simon.
“Simon didn’t kill his father,” I said. “If that’s what you’re thinking you need to look somewhere else.”
Marcus just looked at me without speaking.
“C’mon, Marcus, you have to know there’s no way he would do that. First of all, he’s not that kind of person, and second, Mia is the most important person in the world to him. He would never hurt her.”
He raked a hand through his hair, something he did a lot when he was stressed. Then he suddenly shook his head and said, “Do you want a cup of hot chocolate?”
“Please,” I said. I’d warmed up at class but suddenly I was cold again.
When he didn’t say anything else I sat down, curling one leg up underneath me. “Why?” I said. I didn’t need to say another word. Marcus knew what I meant.
He exhaled loudly and opened the refrigerator to get the milk. “Simon and Leo Janes had a volatile relationship and spent periods of time when they didn’t talk,” Marcus said.
“Lots of fathers and sons have difficult relationships,” I said. “And as for not speaking, for a while that was you and your father.”
“Which, believe me, I’ve reminded myself of more than once,” he said. “I’m guessing you know about the affair Leo Janes’s brother, Victor, had with Simon’s mother. There was bad blood between them for more than twenty years.”
I nodded. “By that logic Victor Janes should be a suspect.”
“He had nothing to gain,” Marcus said. “Simon, on the other hand, does. He was Leo’s beneficiary and by Simon’s own admission Leo wanted his son to give Victor a second chance because he’s sick, but Simon found it hard to forgive the man who he felt was responsible for his mother’s death and the breakup of his family.” He looked back over his shoulder at me. “They had recently had a very heated conversation in the hotel bar that was seen and heard by several people.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” I said. “You and your father have had some pretty heated discussions. So have we.”
He put two mugs in the microwave and turned around, leaning back against the counter. “This is not the same thing.”
Even if I hadn’t known him so well I would have known he was holding something back. His blue eyes didn’t quite meet mine. So I didn’t say anything. I just waited.
“This stays between us,” he finally said.
I nodded.
It had taken a long time for Marcus and me to work out our differences, and now I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. My parents had been married twice—to each other both times. As crazy as they made each other—and the rest of us sometimes—they were miserable without each other. Just the way I was miserable without Marcus.
“Simon doesn’t have an alibi, at least not one we can verify, for the window of time around his father’s death.”
“Yes, he does,” I said. “He was in his office, working. Mia talked to him before we left the library. I talked to him.”
Marcus took the mugs out of the microwave and added the Jam Lady’s cocoa mix and a couple of her homemade marshmallows to each one. He handed me my cup, set a plate of the promised cookies at my elbow and came to sit across from me at the table. “Simon did talk to you, but he’d had the calls to his office phone forwarded to his cell phone and the cell tower logs show he wasn’t at his office. The call pinged off a tower near Everett’s building—near his father’s apartment, Kathleen. He says he was just driving around, trying to clear his head after a frustrating day, but he can’t prove it.”
“That doesn’t prove he was in his father’s apartment or even close to the building.” I turned the mug of hot chocolate in circles on the tabletop. “You’re the one who explained the problems with cell phone evidence to me when that woman was on trial for killing her husband in Red Wing back in the spring. Simon could have been in his office and if the tower near him was experiencing a heavy call volume his calls could have been picked up by another tower closer to the apartment.”
Micah wandered in from somewhere, probably drawn by the sound of our voices. She jumped into Marcus’s lap, cocked her head at me and meowed softly. I leaned over and scratched behind one ear. She immediately began to purr.
I looked over at Marcus. “I know you don’t know Simon very well,” I said, “but I do know him well enough to know that his life revolves around Mia and he wouldn’t have killed his father even by accident. He would not do that to her. Please, trust me on this.”
“I do trust you,” he said. “That’s the reason I’m telling you.”
• • •
I stayed out at Marcus’s for another hour, only reluctantly pulling myself away because I needed to check on Owen and Hercules. I’d only been home for a few minutes when Simon called.
“Hey, Kathleen, Mia told me that she asked you to sit with us at my father’s service. I wanted to tell you that you don’t h
ave to do that.”
I was upstairs and I dropped down onto the edge of the bed. The closet door moved and Hercules stuck his head around the side of it. When he saw it was me he came over and jumped onto my lap. I started stroking his fur. “I’m happy to be there for Mia, but I’m not family and I don’t mind sitting elsewhere if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t,” he said. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Thank you for caring so much about my kid.”
“She’s easy to care about.”
“Yeah, that she is.” I could hear the love in his voice. “I should have said this before: Thanks for talking to her about things that she doesn’t always feel she can say to me. Sometimes I wish—,” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Sometimes I wish her mother were alive. I can’t always give her what she needs.”
“Mia adores you,” I said. “I know you would do anything for her.”
I paused and after a moment Simon said, “I get the feeling there’s something you want to say to me?”
I shifted sideways a little, moving Hercules, who made a disgruntled face at me. My mother would have said, “In for a penny, in for a pound,” an expression she’d picked up from the English wardrobe mistress while doing a production of My Fair Lady.
“Yes,” I said. “Why did you lie to me—and to Mia—about being in your office the night your father died?”
“I didn’t kill my father.”
“I know that,” I said.
“Then why does it matter where I was?” His blunt manner teetered on the edge of rudeness on occasion, which meant if he liked you, you knew it, and if he didn’t, he didn’t care.
I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. When I opened them again Hercules was sitting up, watching me curiously. “All I ask is that people be straight with me, Simon. If there’s something you don’t want to tell me, ever, that’s okay, but don’t lie to me.”
“You said you know I didn’t kill my father.”
“That’s because I know you would never do anything to hurt Mia. And I know how much her grandfather’s death has hurt her.”
Simon was silent for so long I thought he’d hung up. Finally he spoke. “You know about my father’s brother being in town.”
“Yes.” Hercules nudged my hand with his head. Translation: “Scratch behind my ear.”
“I’m sure Detective Gordon has told you that my father and I disagreed about that.”
“I knew that you and your father had words.”
Simon laughed but the sound had no humor. “That’s one way to put it.” Then his voice softened. “My father left me a voice mail message saying he wanted to talk to me about Victor. I didn’t want to have the same stupid argument because, you’re right, it wasn’t good for Mia. That’s why I left the office, in case my father decided to show up. I just drove around because I needed to figure out what to do. Sitting and thinking doesn’t work for me. I need to move, so I just drove around for a while. I can’t prove it. I did see a deer by the side of the road and a drone flying over a field. I lied to you and to Mia on the phone because I was trying to keep her out of this thing with my father as much as I could.” He sighed. “I didn’t do a very good job of it. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.” I could hear traffic noise and I wondered where he was.
“I understand what you were going through,” I said. “I’ll meet you at Gunnerson’s about nine thirty.” Gunnerson’s Funeral Home was where Leo Janes’s funeral was taking place.
“That’s fine,” he said. “And, Kathleen, I appreciate everything you’ve done, for Mia and for me.”
He ended the call before I could reply.
I set my phone down on the bed. Hercules was watching me and as odd as it would probably sound to most people if I’d tried to explain it, I knew he’d been listening to my side of the conversation. He glanced over at the phone and meowed, inquiringly, it seemed to me.
Being able to walk through walls or disappear weren’t the only skills my cats had. They seemed to have an uncanny ability to, well, solve crime. They were like two small, furry Sherlock Holmeses. Sometimes I thought explaining that to Marcus was going to be harder than explaining the whole walk-through-walls/vanishing-act thing.
I started to stroke Herc’s fur again. “No,” I said. “I don’t think he told me everything, either.”
• • •
Simon and Mia were just getting out of Simon’s car when I arrived at the funeral home the next morning. Mia was pale but composed in a dark blue dress, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. She came around the car and hugged me.
Simon was wearing a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and conservative striped tie. He was close to six feet tall, long and lean with a direct gaze. Simon generally kept his sandy hair buzzed close to his head but recently he’d let it grow out a little. The first time we’d met I thought that he didn’t look anywhere near old enough to be the father of a seventeen-now-eighteen-year-old, and I still felt the same way.
“Good morning,” he said. I hesitated and then hugged him as well.
A dark green SUV pulled up then. I recognized Denise, Simon’s assistant, as the driver. Victor Janes was in the passenger seat. Denise smiled at me as she got out of the vehicle and came to give Mia a hug.
Simon offered his hand to Victor. They shook hands and then Victor touched Mia’s shoulder for a brief moment.
“Victor, this is our friend Kathleen Paulson,” Simon said.
The older man nodded at me. “We met at the library. Thank you for coming, Kathleen.”
“I’m sorry about your brother,” I said.
There was an awkward silence before Denise touched Simon’s arm. “We should probably go inside,” she said. “People will be arriving soon.”
We headed across the parking lot. Simon was ahead of me, his back ramrod straight in his dark suit, and I had a sense of just what this civility with his uncle was costing him.
Daniel Gunnerson Senior was waiting for us inside. Gunnerson Senior was a short, squat man with thick, white hair combed back from his face and sparkling blue eyes. He reminded me of actor Malcolm McDowell, with whom my mother had once done a production of The Taming of the Shrew. Both men had the same impish grin, although there was no sign of it today on Daniel Gunnerson’s face. This morning his blue eyes were serious. He was wearing a conservative charcoal suit and a gray striped tie. He shook Simon’s hand. “Would you like to see the chapel?” he asked in a low voice.
“I would, thank you,” Simon said. He glanced at me and I gave a slight nod to let him know I’d take care of Mia.
Denise and Simon followed Daniel. Simon took a few steps and then stopped and turned to his uncle. “Victor, would you like to come with us?” he asked.
I saw the older man swallow hard. “Thank you. I would,” he said. He gave Mia a smile that was just really a slight movement of his lips and went with Simon and his assistant.
Mia watched them go. “Did you know that funerals predate modern man? The Neanderthals probably followed some sort of ritual for their dead thousands of years ago.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep last night and I ended up Googling funerals.”
“I did know that,” I said.
Mia smiled. “I forgot that you know pretty much everything.”
I smiled back at her. “Not everything.”
Mia looked in the direction of the chapel again and suddenly she looked profoundly sad. “I want to tell you something but you’re going to think I’m a bad person.”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me think you’re a bad person. You could tell me that you glued the covers of every book in the library together and I still wouldn’t think you’re a bad person.”
“There’s no way you wouldn’t be mad,” Mia said.
I smile
d. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be mad, I said I wouldn’t think you’re a bad person.”
She laid her head on my shoulder. “I wish it was him,” she said in a small voice.
I realized she meant she wished Victor were dead instead of her grandfather. “That just makes you human.”
“Mary’s right,” Mia said. “You don’t know how to be mean.”
I grinned and shook my head. “I promise you that I do.”
She raised her head so she could look at me. “What was the last mean thing you did?”
“Yesterday I threw a can of creamed corn at a squirrel that was chewing on one of my Adirondack chairs in the backyard.”
“No.” Her eyes widened.
“Yes.”
I’d also yelled and stomped my feet on the back steps, but the squirrel had simply looked at me like I was a toddler having a tantrum and then gone back to chewing on the arm of the chair.
“Did you hit the squirrel?” Mia asked.
I shook my head. “Not even close.” I leaned my head against hers. “It’s okay to feel mean and petty, just try not to act that way.”
I looked out the window by the front door. Two cars pulled into the parking lot, one behind the other. “Are you okay? Are you ready?” I asked.
Mia nodded. “I can do this,” she said. The look in her eyes reminded me of Simon and I had no doubt she could handle the day. I just wished that she didn’t have to.
I was surprised at how many people showed up for the funeral, although I shouldn’t have been. Mayville Heights was a small town and people knew one another going back generations. More than once I’d found out that someone I knew was third cousin twice removed of someone else I knew. It could be a little claustrophobic at times but from the perspective of someone who had moved around a lot as a child I found it warm and welcoming.
Mary and her husband arrived with Mary looking uncharacteristically sedate in a dark blue dress. Rebecca and Everett came in behind them. While Everett was talking to Simon, Rebecca walked over to me. “How is she doing?” she asked, tipping her head toward Mia, who was talking to Mary.
