“People do crazy stuff when someone they love is hurt.” I comforted my aunt in words and with a great big bear hug before I sat at the table. “I'm not sure we'll ever know the full story of what went on between Judy and George.”
“Oh, Kellan, I have to confess something to someone, or I'll go batty thinking I'm the cause of all this drama.” Aunt Deirdre pulled up a seat next to me and slung her head on my shoulder. She still wore her satin nightgown and a silk robe. The garment covered the essentials, but it was like looking at a younger version of my mother parading around in very little. I would've imagined this was how the heroines in her novels dressed, but they were from at least a century earlier.
What could Aunt Deirdre possibly confess about the situation? “You didn't kill Judy or George. I'm sure whatever you're anxious about is a lot less worrisome than you think.”
“I'm the one who sent Judy the article about Ursula Power becoming the new president at Braxton. It was that big newspaper article the Wharton County Gazette published earlier this year about the transition of the decade when your father announced his impending retirement.” She moaned and wallowed in her own little world as if her actions were as horrific as the murder itself.
I didn't understand what she was trying to tell me. “How does this make you responsible?” I poured myself another cup of coffee on the off chance I wasn't awake enough to understand her incoherent explanation.
“Judy was reading that article on a train ride from France to Switzerland. She'd just come from visiting me in London and had taken the Chunnel to Paris. She was tired of her family watching every little thing she did back home. That's why she moved to Europe in the first place. I encouraged her to travel more as a way to meet new people.” She tugged at her robe as if a spook had entered her body.
“Okay, so she was reading the article on the train and George saw it. It doesn't mean you pushed them together.”
“But I did. Judy called me after she met him. George wined and dined her in those first few weeks. He convinced her to move to Switzerland to be with him. She'd no idea how to take care of herself and let him lead her on. When she asked me what to do, I told her to enjoy falling in love.” Aunt Deirdre sighed and pulled out her cell phone. “I've begun falling in love myself, you see.”
“Are you saying you knew Judy was living in Switzerland but didn't tell Lissette or the rest of the Nutberry family?” I ignored her statement about falling in love. She'd suggested something the previous day about having a surprise for us. I'm sure we'd hear soon enough. Some English lord or land baron, I surmised.
“I did, but I never knew who the man was. Judy referred to him as her doctor friend. I guess because he had a PhD and was fussing all over her at the beginning about her heart condition. I didn't know they'd gotten married.” Aunt Deirdre's eyes were swollen and distant. “I wonder if I could have prevented her death.”
“You couldn't have predicted the man was going to milk Judy for all her money and abandon her once he found a reason to…” I stopped realizing it wasn't appropriate to conjecture. We didn't know if he'd killed Judy or she'd died of her illness.
She perked up. “You're probably right. Besides, does anyone know why he chose to come to Braxton? It doesn't make sense, that's where Judy was from.”
I knew the reason. His sister, Sofia, now living as Ursula Power, had moved here. But I couldn't tell my aunt or anyone else. That would be up to the sheriff and to my boss to decide. “I know it's hard to mourn the death of a friend and to accept that another one will be going to prison for murder. Take some time while you're visiting us and regroup. Nana D is so excited to have you here, Aunt Deirdre.”
She stopped searching for something on her phone and chuckled. “I do have a secret to share. I was going to wait until the big family dinner Thursday night, but it wouldn't hurt if I told you before.”
I braced myself for whatever shocker she was about to unleash on me. It couldn't compare to the one I'd bring to the table about Gabriel. “Sure, I'm curious to hear your surprise.” I gulped the muddy coffee remnants at the bottom of my cup.
“I'm engaged. We're getting married next month. I think we'll do it here in Braxton,” she cheered. Her mood had gone from sullen and distraught to frenzied and ecstatic. I thought I was on a roller coaster of the highest proportion when it came to her emotions. Maybe Brad had given me some sort of drug to keep me in a woozy state.
“Congratulations! I look forward to meeting him.” What else could I say? It was the first I'd heard of it. “Where'd you meet one another?”
Aunt Deirdre handed me her phone. “That's his picture, isn't he gorgeous?” she said with a puzzling grin. “He wants to have a baby as soon as possible, and well, I don't see why we shouldn't when we're in love.”
I wished I could have seen my jaw drop to the ground, but my eyes had exploded from their sockets and landed somewhere in Danby Landing's eastern apple orchard. I knew Aunt Deirdre was younger than my mother, but I didn't think she was that young. I couldn't think of the most tactful way to ask, and I had to stop myself from going into a choking fit. “Water, please.”
She jumped up and filled my coffee mug from the kitchen tap. “Drink up, Kellan.”
When I regained my composure, I did a double-take on the photo staring back at me from her mobile phone. “That's Timothy Paddington!”
“Yes, I've known him all my life, but we drifted apart. We found each other on the Facebook again this year. All us girls have been getting more into social media. He's such a generous and caring man.” The smile on my aunt's now happy face was so bright I couldn't look at her. If there were ever a female counterpart to Batman's Joker, she was it right now.
“But… you know he's… I mean, not that it means you can't, what I'm trying to say…” I couldn't get the words out of my mouth.
“He's in rehab for an alcohol and drug addiction. I'm aware, but he gets sprung from Second Chance Reflections in two weeks. I was planning on meeting him that day to start our new life together, then Lissette asked me to accompany her back home. It was fate!” she proclaimed before doing a little dance on the kitchen floor.
Another voice in the kitchen laughed raucously. “I thought I'd check on you, but I can see your aunt has you in stitches,” Connor teased. He hugged my aunt who thanked me for cheering her up, then demanded I keep her secret. While she went to take a bath, I poured myself another cup of coffee and offered one to Connor.
“Don't ask. I'm not sure if I'm loopy or she's actually here. Am I seeing people? Are you real?” I grabbed a few crumpets from the bowl and threw them at him.
“Oh, I saw her dancing that broken Irish jig. That woman needs to take a few lessons on how to find some rhythm.” Connor caught one, leaned against the counter, and slurped his coffee.
“No doubt about it. It's good to see you,” I said.
“I couldn't keep the news to myself anymore. I had to share it with you before you found out from someone else.” Connor was beaming, and it was unusual for him to wear his emotions on his sleeves. Ten years in security had made him rigid and hard to read.
Was he about to tell me he was getting married too? It couldn't be Eleanor. My sister wouldn't have been able to contain that news. Then I realized he wouldn't have proposed to Maggie with everything she's been doing to support Helena this week. “Out with it. You've got that devious look on your face like you're about to sideswipe me with something big,” I replied.
“You're looking at the newest detective in the Wharton County Sheriff's Office. Or at least as soon as Gilkrist is finished at the end of this month.” Connor rushed over to hug me, spilling coffee all down both our backs. He went on to explain that he and April had been talking a lot about their partnership to keep the town of Braxton and its college campus safer. “You know I quit the force in Philadelphia because I didn't want to be around all the gang fights, high murder rate, and urban crimes.”
“You wanted something more laidback where you could ma
ke a real difference,” I said. We'd previously spoken about it when I'd returned to Braxton.
“She suggested it. I talked to Gilkrist, and it's a great fit. I'll really miss working at the college, but Ursula understood.” Connor had been interviewing all along and never told me. Neither did Ursula. I guess there was a distinct line between business and personal relationships.
“Does Maggie know?” I asked.
“We're meeting for an early lunch. I hinted about it but never told her I interviewed with April,” Connor noted. He checked his watch and mentioned he had to leave to pick Maggie up on time.
After he left, I had a moment where I felt depressed. I was happy for my friend who found a great new job, but with him and April working so closely together, it might make any future homicide investigations harder on me. Then I realized something. Why was I predicting there would be another murder I wanted to solve? At the rate things had been going since my return to Braxton, maybe there was some truth to April's jokes about me being at the center of all the crime in our charming and secluded town.
When Aunt Deirdre finished bathing and dressing, I said goodbye and headed to the guesthouse to determine how to introduce Gabriel back into the fold. I needed to wake up, so I decided to get my own shower out of the way. Just as I stripped naked and turned on the water, my cell rang. It was Maggie. “Hey, you caught me at a bad time. Can I call you back in fifteen?”
“Connor is on his way to pick me up. I wanted to thank you for everything you did. Helena is home with all the charges officially withdrawn from her record. It's only because you stuck your neck out for us,” Maggie said in a soft, gentle voice. “I'm grateful more than I can say.”
“I only did what you would've done for me, if the situations were reversed. Let's get together soon.”
“That sounds perfect. I need to run. Helena and Cheney set up this brunch for the four of us to get to know one another.”
“Say hi for me.”
“Maybe we could meet next weekend. I'd love to pick your brain about the renovations at Memorial Library. We start construction in twelve weeks,” Maggie added with a passion in her voice.
“That's great news!” I told Maggie we'd catch up again soon and hung up. I checked the water temperature and hopped under the full blast. My shoulders were sore and needed the relief. I only stepped out again when I heard someone moving around in the hallway. I quickly dried off with a fresh towel and called out, “One minute. Just throwing on some clothes.”
I grabbed the jeans and black tank top I'd hung on the back of the door and slipped into them. I located my glasses and wandered into the living room. No one was there. I poked my head into the kitchen, then my bedroom, but they were also empty. Emma's door had been shut and was still shut, so no one was in there. Maybe I'd started hearing things as well as seeing things.
I grabbed my satchel and flipped through all the postcards Francesca had sent. Now that we'd found George Braun's murderer and I'd received postcards from all the places my wife and I had visited, it was time to figure out what she was up to.
As I reread each one, I realized there were other mistakes besides the two I'd recognized on the postcards from Savannah and Yellowstone. Not only had Francesca incorrectly mentioned snow on one of them and my broken ankle on the other, but she'd referred to Emma as being six years old. Emma had turned seven years old several weeks before that postcard had arrived the previous month. I laid them all out on the table and tried to make sense of what was in front of me.
The front door opened and in ran Emma with Nana D following closely behind. “I'm back from school!” She had an early release today.
“Hey kiddo! Did you just get here, or were you in the house a few minutes ago?” I asked my daughter. Maybe I hadn't been hallucinating about the noises.
“Mmm, you saw us walk in, Daddy. Is your head still hurting?” Emma asked while tapping my nose. “Rodney is back at school. I miss him.”
Nana D looked at the table in front of me, then at me, and finally at my daughter. “Why don't you make yourself a snack, Emma? I left some cut-up apples in the fridge earlier. Maybe some peanut butter with it, okay?”
Emma cheered and rushed off to the kitchen. Nana D sat next to me and picked up the Mendoza postcard. “What's going on, brilliant one?”
I wasn't ready to share with my grandmother that my wife was alive. I needed to find her first. “It's nothing, Nana D. I was looking at old messages from Francesca. Are you ready for election day?” I took the postcard from her hand and tucked it under the rest of the pile.
“I think so. I'm feeling good about it, but you never know what dirty tricks Marcus Stanton has up his sleeve.” Nana D leaned forward to study one of the other postcards, but I confiscated it from her before she could. “Nothing good comes from focusing on the past. I'll put these away later.”
“Never be afraid of history. Those who forget the lessons they've learned are condemned to repeat the same mistakes. It's like all those jewelry thefts that started up again,” Nana D cautioned.
I hadn't been aware of any but recalled the sheriff mentioning something about a burglary she'd been investigating the night of the costume extravaganza. “What do you mean again?”
“You don't remember?” she asked inquisitively while leaning over the table to get a better glimpse of the only postcard still accessible. “Oh, that's right, it happened while you were in LA.”
Was I going to have to beg for details? “And the award for the best dramatic reveal goes to—”
“Slow your roll, brilliant one. I'm getting there.” Nana D knocked over a pillow as she stood from the couch, but I was aware of how tricky she could be. “Get that, will ya?” she said while swooping down to collect the postcard.
I shuffled the entire lot into a pile, gathered them into my left hand, and reached for the pillow with the other. “Go on. I'll put these away now.”
“Oh, about eight years ago… right around the time Gabriel left Braxton… there were a bunch of robberies on campus. Started out small at first, but the thief worked his or her way up to expensive jewelry and a lot of money.” Nana D thrust herself back into the couch with a long sigh, obviously disgruntled that I'd kept her from nosing into my business.
“His or her? Didn't they catch the person?”
“Nope. By the time it was all done, a fifty-thousand-dollar donation had been stolen from the alumni building. Some fool had dropped off cash. It was pinched before the night fell.” Nana D shrugged her shoulders and tossed her hands in the air. “Never found the culprit or the money. It just happened again last week.”
“As in more money was stolen?”
“Don't you read the newspapers? Get with it, you're losing touch with reality.” She wagged her finger at me disapprovingly. “Same calling card was left, but a lot more was stolen this time. Your father thinks it was one of the professors. Maybe it's a case for you to get involved with?”
Emma interrupted us from continuing the conversation about the stolen money and jewelry. It was intriguing, but I needed some downtime to relax. “What's up, baby girl?”
“Can I go play on the iPad in my bedroom? I want to beat my high score on Candy Crush Saga.” She giggled and put on her adorable pleading face.
“Your homework is done?” I asked. When she nodded, I let her have thirty minutes on the device. Then she'd have to help prepare dinner with Nana D and me.
Nana D cleared her throat after Emma rushed out of the room. “When were you gonna tell me Gabriel was back?” She narrowed judgmental eyes in my direction.
How did she know? “I… ummm… he asked me to keep his secret.”
“I don't like when you lie to me, brilliant one.” Nana D made a tsk tsk noise to shame me. Unfortunately, it was beginning to work.
Before I could reply, a scream came from Emma's room. We both jumped off the couch and rushed to check it out. I thought she'd fallen and hurt herself.
When I got to the room, Emma was bent over
a wicker basket on her bed and crying tears of joy. “It's a puppy. It's the one we saw at the pet store, Daddy. You got him for me!”
I didn't get him for her. I looked at Nana D who vehemently shook her head. “Not me.”
While Emma clutched the shiba inu puppy against her chest, Nana D sat on the bed and ruffled her hair. I looked in the basket and found another postcard. It read:
It seems Francesca has run out of places to visit, so she stopped back home. Emma loved her trip to the pet store the other day. She took such great care of the rabbit last week. Maybe this puppy will keep her happy until Mommy comes home. If you'd ever like to see her mommy alive again, you need to convince your in-laws to do exactly what I say. I'll be in touch soon. Don't try to locate me, or Francesca will truly be dead this time.
-Familia Las Vargas
I hurried into the living room to look at the nine postcards. I checked the first one thoroughly and found the letter 'L' written under the handwritten address. In the second, I found an 'A' hidden under the postage stamp. By the time I scanned them all, there were nine letters scattered on each of the nine cards. She'd capitalized some of the letters in her words to make a point. It wasn't random. They spelled out LAS VARGAS. But it spelled out way more than that. Francesca hadn't been visiting all the places we'd gone to together in our past. Her parents weren't keeping her safe in the Castigliano mansion. The Vargas family had kidnapped my wife and forced her to share details about our trips, so they could send those postcards. They didn't want us to find her!
Francesca must have been sending clues to reveal what was going on. I had no idea what to do next. Should I confess everything to Nana D? Was it best to contact Vincenzo and Cecilia for help? Did I need to get the FBI involved?
My phone rang shrilly, jerking me out of the unexpected stupor. The puppy barked in Emma's room while I panicked at the number on the screen. It was the sheriff. I suddenly knew exactly what to do at that moment. “April, I need your help. Something insane has happened, and you're the only person I can trust right now.”
Flower Power Trip Page 26
