Suspicious Origin

by MacDonald, Patricia

  “It wasn’t an electrical fire,” Ray said. “They’re pretty sure now that it was ignited by a candle.”

  Alec shook his head. “Greta was a great one for candles. Loved candlelight. And those aromatherapy, green tea candles. She loved that stuff. I always had to remind her to blow them out before we went to sleep.”

  Ray shifted uneasily in his chair. “Alec,” he said, “were you doing any painting in the house? Anyone using paint thinner?”

  “We probably had some in the basement,” Alec said.

  “I’m talking about upstairs,” said Ray.

  Alec frowned. “No,” he said. “We had the whole place painted about two years ago…Well, actually, wait a minute. Now that you mention it. Greta was doing those stencil borders. You know, around the doors and windows…”

  “In your bedroom?” Ray asked.

  “No, not in our bedroom. In the guest room. She may have just left all the painting stuff out since nobody was staying there.”

  “The guest room?” Ray said, obviously surprised.

  “Yeah,” said Alec. “Why?”

  “Well, that changes things,” said Ray, frowning.

  “Why? What do you mean?” said Alec.

  Ray shook his head. “I hadn’t thought… you caught me off guard. I have to ask—you and your wife, Alec. Everything was all right between you two?”

  “Yes,” Alec said quickly. “Of course. Why are you asking me that?”

  “Well, there were paint cans and paint thinner in the room where Greta’s body was found. As well as candles. We had assumed it was your bedroom. Now, from what you’re telling me, the fire must have started in the guest room.”

  All the color drained from Alec’s face.

  “Any reason you can think of why she might have been sleeping in the guest room?” Ray asked.

  Britt looked curiously at her brother-in-law.

  “Maybe she was having trouble sleeping,” Alec murmured. “Sometimes she got restless at night, and she didn’t want to disturb me.”

  “But you weren’t home at the time the fire started,” Ray observed.

  Alec frowned. “No, I was at the dealership, doing taxes. I came home to eat some dinner and then I went back…”

  “So, you weren’t there when Greta went to bed,” said Ray, frowning. “You don’t know any other reason why she might have gone to bed in the guest room?”

  “No,” said Alec sharply.

  “I’m sorry to put you through this, Alec. But I’m sure you understand. Until we can determine what happened…What about insurance?”

  “What about it?” Alec bristled. “We had fire insurance, of course. A house that size? Who wouldn’t?”

  “What about life insurance?” Ray asked.

  “We had life insurance,” said Alec uneasily. “Don’t you?”

  “A lot of life insurance?” Ray asked.

  “Hey, I was getting threats from these environmental nuts. They think I’m a menace to society. Including my wife’s boss, Dr. Farrar,” he said sarcastically

  “I’ll need the name of your insurance agent,” Ray said.

  “I’ll write it down,” said Alec. Britt, studying him, thought she saw something evasive in his eyes.

  “These are all routine inquiries, Alec,” said Ray in a reassuring tone.

  Lauren poked her head into the room. “All right to come back in?” she asked.

  Ray stood up from his chair. “Come on in. We’re just about done.”

  Zoe, who trailed Lauren into the room, piped up in a scratchy voice. “How come I had to leave?”

  Ray looked kindly at the young girl. “Just police business. Grownup stuff. We have to ask a lot of questions. Until we can figure out what happened. We can’t rule out the possibility of.…We just have to ask a lot of questions.”

  Arson, Britt thought. He was about to say “arson.”

  “Here,” said Alec, shoving a piece of paper at the chief on which he had been scribbling. “This is the insurance agent. It wasn’t that long ago that I talked to him. It was Greta’s idea actually, that we increase it.”

  “Really?” said Ray. “Okay. I’ll speak to him.” He glanced over at Lauren. “Miss Rossi, you work for Mr. Lynch at the dealership?”

  “Miss Rossi is my assistant,” Alec said.

  “Mr. Lynch told me he was working late that night. Were you at work on the night of the fire as well?” Ray asked.

  Lauren hesitated, her eyes wide. “Urn…yeah,” she said uncertainly.

  “Lauren,” Alec said in a warning voice.

  Ray frowned at her. “Miss Rossi?”

  “I was thinking back, trying to remember that particular night,” said Lauren. “I work a lot of nights.”

  “So you can verify that Mr. Lynch was working at the dealership that night.”

  “Yes,” Lauren said softly. “Absolutely.”

  “Kind of late to be at work, wasn’t it?” Ray asked.

  “We were behind in the paperwork,” she said.

  Ray nodded and replaced his hat carefully on his head. “Okay, good. That’s what your boss told me. Well, I’ll leave you all in peace now. You get to feeling better, Zoe.”

  “I will,” Zoe said.

  “Ladies.”

  Alec walked out with the chief while the others sat in stunned silence. When Alec returned to the room, Britt stood up and said, “I’d better be going, too. You don’t need company at a time like this…”

  “I thought you came here to see me,” Zoe protested.

  “That is what I came here for. I’ll stay somewhere right nearby. Alec, can you tell me where I might get a room?”

  Alec raked his fingers distractedly through his hair. “I don’t know. I can’t think…”

  Lauren said, “Well, there’s the Glace Mountain Lodge. And there are a number of B&Bs that are nice…”

  At this, Zoe’s face crumpled and dissolved into tears. She buried her head in the crook of her elbow which rested on the arm of the sofa. Her thin little frame shook with sobs.

  Britt looked helplessly at her niece.

  “Honey,” Alec pleaded, “what’s the matter?”

  “Why can’t she stay here?” Zoe cried.

  “She doesn’t want to stay here,” said Alec sharply.

  “You and your dad need privacy,” Britt tried to explain.

  “No,” Zoe insisted, stamping her foot like a toddler having a tantrum. “We don’t need privacy. We need you.”

  “Zoe, that’s enough,” Alec said. “Please, I’ve got enough to deal with…”

  “It’s your fault she’s leaving. You want her to leave. You’re being mean.”

  Alec glowered at Zoe. “Zoe, stop it…”

  The last thing Britt wanted was to stay in the house with them. But she was shaken by Zoe’s fit of weeping. “Look… All right,” Britt said. “All right. Take it easy. I’ll stay. I’ll be glad to stay. If it’s all right with your dad.”

  Zoe wiped her tears on the sleeve of her jersey and looked at her father.

  “I guess so,” he said grudgingly. “I don’t care. Just stop crying.”

  Zoe beamed through her tears and then started coughing.

  Alec grabbed the glass of soda and handed it to her. “Drink this,” he said, “and settle down now.”

  Zoe took a sip.

  Lauren stood up from her chair and shook out her dark, wavy hair. “Well, I’m gonna go. I’ve got to get this picture of Greta blown up for tomorrow.” She held up a manila envelope. “I’ll bring it to the church in the morning. Do you want me to get a frame at the photo place?”

  Alec shook his head. “They’ve got some land of easel rigged up.”

  “Do you need anything else?” Lauren asked Alec.

  “We’re okay,” he said.

  Lauren turned to Britt. “Nice to meet you. Despite the circumstances. I’ll see you tomorrow at the services.”

  “Right,” said Britt.

  “Bye, Zoe,” said Lauren, b
ut didn’t wait for a reply.

  “Lauren, let me walk you to your car,” Alec said quickly, starting to follow her out the door. Then, obviously as an afterthought, he turned in Britt’s direction, although he avoided her gaze. “Make yourself at home,” he said.

  Zoe was watching her aunt hopefully. Britt forced herself to smile.

  Chapter Six

  Accompanied to the door by whirling snow flurries, the mourners hurried into the church and found seats in the wooden pews as an organ played hymns from the loft.

  In the quiet vestry of the church, Britt lingered, staring at the large photograph of her sister, which had been mounted on cardboard and set on an easel. She gazed in amazement at the changes she saw in her sister. The picture that Alec and Zoe had chosen was of Greta kneeling in her garden, a blossoming begonia in one hand, a garden trowel in the other. Her long blond hair was in a French braid and she was looking over her shoulder at the camera in mild surprise, as if she had been interrupted mid-meditation, a pensive look in her eyes. She was still beautiful, as she had been when she was young, but her face had grown thinner, her eyes sadder with time. For Britt, it was a difficult photo to look at. When they were kids they’d had a similar photo of their mother in her garden which they always kept hidden from their dad. The difference lay in the expression in the eyes. Greta looked thoughtful and mild. Their mother’s eyes had flashed with impatience and dissatisfaction.

  Britt was glad to turn away from Greta’s photo when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. A tall, elegant gray-haired woman in a black suit, accompanied by an equally formidable-looking gentleman, regarded her quizzically.

  “Are you Britt?” the woman asked in a quiet voice.

  “Yes,” Britt said in surprise. She had been introduced to a few people this morning, but this couple was unfamiliar to her.

  “Oh, yes. You remind me of her,” said the woman. “Not that you look alike, but the way you stand, gestures, that sort of thing. She told me all about you. She was so proud of your television career.”

  “She was?” Britt asked. “I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry. I should know you…”

  “Oh. I’m Olivia Farrar. This is my husband, Wallace. Your sister worked for me for a number of years.”

  “You’re the doctor,” said Britt vaguely, shaking Olivia’s cool, dry hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Britt was still taken aback by the information that Greta had boasted of her accomplishments.

  “Unfortunately, we were running a little late because I had an emergency. This is my son, Derek, and my grandson, Pete,” Olivia said as another tall man approached, carrying a child in a bow tie.

  “It’s so nice of you all to come,” said Britt.

  “I don’t know how Mother’s going to manage without Greta,” said Derek. “Mother, I’m going to take Pete in. He’s getting restless.”

  “You go ahead, dear,” said Olivia. She turned back to Britt and joined her in gazing at Greta’s picture. “This is a terrible tragedy. Someone so beautiful and good. I guess our only consolation is that Greta’s suffering is over now.”

  “Her suffering?’ Britt exclaimed. “What do you mean? Was she sick?”

  Dr. Farrar frowned. “I thought you knew.”

  “Folks,” whispered the undertaker in charge, “you’d better take a seat. They’re about to start.”

  Olivia took her husband’s arm. “We’d better sit, darling.”

  “Wait,” said Britt. “What do you mean, her suffering?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Dr. Farrar. “It’s all over now, anyway. Nothing we can do for her. Come along, Wallace.”

  The Farrars hurried into the church. Numbly, Britt followed them, walking toward the front pew where Zoe was seated beside her father. Alec was wearing the tailored gray, pinstriped suit, which Lauren had brought over from the dealership, with a black shirt and a gray satin tie that made him look like a gangster. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and his hooded gray eyes stared blankly ahead. Beside him, Zoe slumped in the pew. She was wearing a pink parka, pulled this morning from the bags of donations, the sleeves of which were too short for her. Her blond head was bent low over her tightly folded hands.

  Britt leaned down and whispered into Zoe’s ear, “Can I get in here?”

  “Sure,” said Zoe dully. She squeezed up against her father and gave him a little shove. Alec looked startled, as if he had been asleep. Britt slid into the seat and looked around. The church was full. Most of the people she didn’t recognize, of course, although she did see Lauren Rossi, dressed in fake fur and black lace, in the fourth row, and the police chief, Ray Stern, standing near the back. Britt swiveled around and faced forward as the minister led the gathering in prayer and a few hymns, and then he stepped up to the lectern and asked if there was anyone in the large gathering of mourners who wanted to say a few words about their departed friend, Greta.

  Alec Lynch bent his head down and whispered something to Zoe, who was weeping softly. Zoe shook her head miserably. The room was silent and for a moment, Britt had a panicky feeling that no one would get up to speak. She knew she should do it, but she had not prepared anything to say. A pleasant-looking woman in a blouse and skirt printed with autumn leaves walked up to the lectern and smiled nervously.

  “Mrs. Dietz,” Zoe whispered, and tears trickled down her cheek.

  “My name is Joyce Dietz. Greta and I met through our daughters. Kayley and Zoe have been friends for years. Greta and I were Brownie leaders together and she was somebody you could always count on. She loved her daughter more than anything and she just wanted to make a good difference in the world and, in my opinion, she did. She really did. She was the kind of person who, you could ask to do anything, any favor, and she would do it. She really cared about people and wanted to help. I’m really going to miss her…” said the woman, her voice trailing off at the end. She stepped down from the lectern and hurried to her seat, winking at Zoe through tears as she passed by the pew.

  For a moment, there was silence again, and Britt knew she should get to her feet. Zoe was looking at her expectantly. Reluctantly, Britt started to rise, not knowing what she was going to say or how she could get through it without breaking down. Britt left the pew and walked to the lectern. She gripped the edges of the shelf with sweaty palms and looked out at the sea of faces.

  “My name is Britt Andersen,” she said. “I am…Greta’s sister. Greta and I were very close once upon a time, but we’ve been estranged for years and it was all my fault.” She paused, fighting back tears. “We… I let a stupid argument come between us. I kept thinking there would be time to make up…” Britt’s voice cracked and she stopped for a moment, forcing herself to feel what the words meant. Then, she continued. “There’s nothing I can do to make that up to her. Now she’s gone and I’ll just have to live with my regret. I just want to say today, in her memory, if there’s someone in your family you think you don’t want to talk to anymore, you should think again. Because, believe me, when you can’t talk to them anymore…not ever…you may regret it someday.” She saw Alec lift his head and stare at her. She didn’t want to meet his unfriendly gaze. “I want to say that I’m very sorry to my niece, Zoe, for being absent all these years. I won’t disappoint her again. I owe that to my sister. I owe her much more than that, but all I can do is… try to be more like Greta. Try to make this loss up to my niece, any way I can.”

  Britt hurriedly resumed her seat. Her blood was pounding in her ears, and she could barely hear the next tribute which came from an elderly man who leaned on a cane as he told how Greta did errands for him after his wife died and tried to help him out. The minister called for any last speakers. He looked over at Alec questioningly.

  Alec sighed, staring at the floor, and then rose to his feet and approached the lectern. He stood there for a moment, the light from the chandelier above him haloing his dark head. “I’m not sure I can do this,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I married Greta when I was a very young man
. We were both young. We didn’t know very much about what we were doing. But we did pretty well,” he said, and then his voice broke. There was a hush in the church as he struggled to force the words out. “I wanted to take care of her. And I tried to…” he began again, and then he stopped, swallowing his tears, wiping his eyes.

  There was a disturbing murmur and rustling from the rear of the church. Alec looked up, and Britt turned around in time to see a shadowy figure making its way out of the pew Britt was startled to see someone interrupt such a poignant moment. Then, as the mourner reached the center aisle, Britt realized that it was Olivia Farrar gliding to the exit. It must be an emergency, Britt thought. Someone must have paged her. But she couldn’t help remembering Alec’s remark to the police chief. It sounded as if he and Dr. Farrar were at odds, and she wondered if perhaps that was why the doctor was leaving. She looked icy and composed, her silvery hair gleaming like sterling under the lights.

  Alec waited until she was out of the church. Then he said abruptly, “Thank you all for your generosity, and for being here today to help us get through this,” and stepped down. The minister resumed his place at the lectern and brought the service to a close with a few hymns and a homily.

  The mourners in the pews began to don their coats, but the minister indicated that he had one more thing to say. “Before you go, Alec and Zoe invite anyone in need of some fellowship, or who wants to show their support to the family, to gather at the home of their neighbors, the Carmichaels. They live the next house over from where the Lynches…used to live and have offered their home today for fellowship. Thank you for attending this funeral service for our sister, Greta. May the Lord bless your coming in and your going out, now and forevermore…” He made the sign of the cross, and the congregants began looking toward the door.

  As they got up and began to file out of the church, Britt felt Zoe’s hand slip into hers. Britt squeezed it, and glanced down at her niece, whose face was pale and streaked with tears. “I wanted to talk about Mom, but I couldn’t,” said Zoe.