by riley blake
Mary Louise closed her eyes. Why—how—had she ended up here? Maybe her son was right. Perhaps she needed to be in a retirement community where someone could keep an eye on her.
“I asked you a question.”
She jerked the door open and hopped out before Laws could park. Clutching her phone to her ear, she ran as hard as a seventy-something year old woman could run. She had to find a way to make this right.
Guns were drawn. Clarence’s barn was surrounded.
“Get back, Mary!” One of the local police officers swung his arm out to the side. “We have a dangerous criminal inside. You shouldn’t be here.”
About that time, Littleton’s car came to a screeching halt. It took a few seconds for the lanky sheriff to exit his vehicle and even longer for him to realize the severity of the situation.
When he finally withdrew his gun, he shouted, “Get in the car, Mary Louise!”
“You’re at my farm.” Clarence’s broken voice jolted her back to reality. She’d been holding the phone all this time and had completely forgotten about the person on the other end. “What have you done? How could you do this? Why couldn’t you mind your own business!”
“The coroner’s body was found today. And your wife died before her time,” Mary Louise said. “Someone has to answer for that.”
The line went dead.
“Come out with your hands up. No one has to die here today!” Cops shouted to those who were hiding inside the barn. “We just want to ask you a few questions!”
As the locals tried to negotiate a peaceful solution, Mary Louise opened the rear car doors for Pearl and Opal. By this time, Laws was standing next to the police cruiser, too.
“Why if you’re not a sight for sore eyes,” Pearl said, hugging Mary Louise before embracing Laws. “And remind me to tell your momma how hard you worked at keeping our girl here safe.”
“I’ll do just that,” he said, patting Pearl’s shoulder before swapping pleasantries with Opal.
About that time, a rookie cop approached them. “Sheriff Littleton asked me to tell you to leave the premises. We may have a standoff.”
“A standoff?” Pearl asked excitedly. “Will we have to dodge bullets?”
Several rounds of gunfire were exchanged. Pearl was the first to duck behind Littleton’s car. Opal and Laws followed closely behind.
“There’s your answer,” Opal said.
“This is ridiculous!” Mary Louise couldn’t stay put. She had to do something or innocent people would suffer the consequences. Without a second thought, she rushed to the front of the car and kept walking toward the barn.
She wasn’t in any danger. Whoever was in that barn now had been there for a while. If he had been a true killer with murder running through his veins, he would’ve plowed Opal down the night before.
“Dang it, Mary! What are you doing?” Sheriff Littleton angrily threw his hands up. “Hold your fire! Hold. Your. Fire!”
She had almost reached the sliding double doors when Littleton caught up to her. “What is it with you and Pearl? Are you just itching to get yourselves killed?”
“Pearl walks in front of cars because she is the kind of lady who can stop traffic. I only jump in front of bullets when I think there’s someone worth saving.” She pointed at the barn. “Whoever is hiding in there isn’t dangerous. He’s scared!”
“Would you just…Can you please…” Littleton was too frustrated to speak. He yanked her to the wayside and pushed her behind an old green tractor. His face was as red as a candied apple. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. Your prowling expertise undoubtedly led us to the person or persons responsible for the coroner’s death and maybe even Oscar’s.”
About that time, a wide and tall man exited the barn with his hands held high and his head dropped low. Pearl and Opal stood up as soon as they saw him. Mary Louise’s mouth dropped. And Sheriff Littleton looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“There never were any pictures. Were there, Sheriff Littleton?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled. “Someone else was in charge of sweeping the coroner’s office.”
“Well someone else isn’t in charge here. I hope you’ll do the right thing.”
Sneering, Littleton motioned for the other officers. “Secure the suspect!”
“Don’t shoot!” Oscar’s wife rushed to his side. “Please don’t kill my husband. He didn’t do anything wrong. You have to believe me.”
Mary Louise held her breath as Sheriff Littleton and a few others surrounded Oscar with drawn guns. Officers and detectives yelled, “On your knees! Hands behind your back!” And it sounded as if they had rehearsed the chorus for many years. “You have the right to remain silent…”
The approaching night was thick with grief, dark with sorrow. Mary Louise couldn’t look at Kelly or her husband Oscar, a man who had faked his own death after saving his sister from further pain and suffering.
“I thought he was dead,” Pearl said quietly.
“I’m guessing he’ll wish he was by the time this is over.” Opal draped her arm around Mary Louise’s shoulders. “How’d you know?”
“I went to see his wife.”
“Well we knew that,” Pearl said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not very good at deception.”
“Neither was she,” Mary Louise said, nodding at Kelly as an officer pulled her away from her husband.
Mary Louise walked away from her friends, hoping to have a word with Kelly before they took her to the station for questioning. Right as she started to speak, Kelly said, “I guess you figured out the mystery after all.”
“I wish things were different.”
“Would you rather be dead or hiding, Mary Louise?” she asked solemnly. “It’s a question my sister-in-law asked when she was bedridden and unable to enjoy life with her husband and family. It’s the same question that my husband asked me after he barely escaped the night you and your friends were here.” The tears came in droves and slipped down her cheeks. “One day, when you’re sitting on that lonely porch in your secluded retirement community, you and your friends will ask the same.”
“We didn’t kill anyone,” Opal said, coming to Mary Louise’s defense. “And a mercy killing is still murder in this state. We don’t write the laws, kiddo.”
Kelly’s nostrils flared and for a moment she behaved as if she’d been cursed. “If this pans out the way I think it might, perhaps you’ll sell my paintings at Vintage Whispers. I always wanted to ask you but never had the nerve.”
“Tell me about the iron skillet and I’ll think about it.” Sheriff Littleton would need a confession and without one, someone might get away with the coroner’s murder.
“You want me to tell you about the blood,” she said, a slow smile creeping across her lips. “It was the coroner’s.”
“Tell us something we don’t know,” Pearl said, acting as if she had been trained for interrogation.
“Alright,” Kelly said, her expression never changing as her eyes met her husband’s. “Oscar didn’t kill the coroner.”
“Did you?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see. That’s the thing about a suspenseful mystery. You don’t know who the bad guy is until you reach the end.”
Chapter Fifteen
Hours later, Pearl, Opal, and Mary Louise returned to the retirement community. Dr. Smalls looked like he was ready to throw the proverbial book at them.
“Good evening, Dr. Smalls.”
“Ladies,” he said, turning to watch someone in the distance. “How was your day?”
“Interesting,” Pearl said. “How about yours?”
“No one died,” he said, indicating Miss Layla.
“She seems different.” Mary Louise noticed Layla’s slow movements and her childlike behavior. She tiptoed through the flower garden, danced around the cherubs, and then sat on a nearby concrete bench with her feet tucked underneath her long yellow gown.
“She’s found some level of contentment in her d
iscontentment, but her spirit guide is troubled,” Dr. Smalls explained. “We go through this every six to eight weeks.”
“Well I’m sorry for any additional problems we may have caused you,” Mary Louise said.
“You sound as if you’ve made up your mind. Are you leaving us at the end of thirty days?”
“We haven’t decided yet,” Pearl said. “With employees like Nurse Waterbury, you seldom have vacancies from what I understand. She’s an asset to the community.”
Dr. Smalls laughed. “Don’t tell her. We’ll never get her to stay in the pods if she thinks fellow residents are supporting those shenanigans.” He closed the distance between them. “I hope you decide to stay. Things will be pretty quiet here without you.”
“We caused that much commotion?” Opal asked, seemingly pleased. “We’ve only been here a few days.”
“You created a stir,” he said, pointing at the entrance.
About that time, two local officers escorted Clarence through the front doors. With his hands behind his back, he looked broken and ashamed.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mary Louise said.
“You think my freedom is lost?” He balked at that. “Samantha was my freedom, my joy. My life ended the day Samantha stopped breathing. Now I don’t care what happens to me.”
Dr. Smalls said, “Maybe one day you’ll return here and finish your work in the garden.”
A sinister expression washed over him. “I doubt that. In these parts, a man doesn’t take another person’s life and go back to living the same as he was before.”
“It isn’t this town, Clarence. No matter where you live, when you kill, you become a killer. When you’re caught, you become a criminal. When you become a criminal, you’re then an outcast. Once you’re an outcast, you’re hated, ridiculed. Death, in whatever form, is then considered too good for you. I’m sorry for you but you know what I hate more than anything?” Pearl looked sad but determined. “I hate that you tainted your wife’s memory. That’s too bad for her and too bad for you.”
Dr. Smalls said, “You should consider joining one of our groups, Pearl. We can always use inspirational speakers. You clearly have a gift for saying the right thing at the right time.”
“Gifts can be deceiving,” Pearl said, tilting her head at Mary Louise. “But I know who would be perfect for your group.”
“Clarence killed the coroner,” Mary Louise whispered, processing rather than asking.
“He admitted it,” Dr. Smalls said. “He’ll receive regular psychiatric evaluations and could be out in ten with good behavior.”
“How sad,” Pearl said. “The coroner won’t return in another decade. Why should Clarence?”
“I think Clarence slipped away a couple of months ago,” Opal said, a faraway look on her face. They all watched as Clarence was stuffed in the back of the police cruiser.
About that time, the wailing began. Miss Layla jerked one way or another then collapsed to the ground.
“Oh my heavens!” Pearl cried out, rushing toward her. Opal and Mary Louise trailed behind her.
Dr. Smalls stopped them before they made it to the gardens. “She’s fine. You’ll see her at breakfast in the morning.”
Mary Louise waited, watching for any sign of movement. “Are you sure she’s okay?”
“Trust me. We’ve done this a few times.”
Right about then, Miss Layla’s head popped up and she grinned at Mary Louise before planting her nose to the ground again.
“See there? What’d I tell you?”
“So she thrives on the attention,” Mary Louise said.
“Maybe she does,” he said. “But I wish she’d find another way to get it.”
“Perhaps she will.”
It was then when Mary Louise made up her mind. She would convince Opal and Pearl to stay. This wonderful place, even with its cast of crazy characters and the occasional unlikely criminal, could eventually feel like home.
About the Author
For over a decade, Riley Blake has been a professional ghostwriter, freelancer, and author. A forty-something year old grandmother, Riley loves cooking plant-based meals and searching for new smoothie recipes. She enjoys taking long strolls with her granddaughter and cherishes their time together.
Riley is married to one of the best keyboard players of our time (she is a little biased) and appreciates the fact that her husband is a busy musician. Their time apart makes her cherish their time together, but more importantly it allows for the best of all worlds—independence, family, and a marriage that somehow reached the 26-year mark.
An avid reader and terrible painter, Riley enjoys sharing excerpts, news, and freebies with her readers. If you’d like to be added to her mailing list, please send your name, email, and snail mail address to [email protected] and please follow her on Twitter @rileyblakebooks
Thank you for reading Riley Blake Books
