Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1

by Margaret Lashley

  I could only make it possible for Glad’s true heirs to get them if I also made it possible for Tony’s ex.

  The conundrum soured my mood. I felt sad and confused and alone. I needed advice on what to do from the people who had known Glad even better than I did. For better or worse, that meant only one thing.

  Water Loo’s, here I come.

  WHEN I WALKED IN, THE stooges were reverently passing around an old, wrinkled-up piece of paper as if it were the deed to the Taj Mahal.

  “Val Pal!” Winky hollered. “You’re not gonna believe this!”

  I scooted into the booth next to Goober. He slid the ragged, yellowed paper across the sticky table to within my reach. Six somber eyes followed my every move as I peeled the paper from the table and read it in disbelief.

  It was the birth certificate for Thelma G. Goldrich, dated December 22, 1965.

  I nearly fell out of the booth.

  “Where did you guys find this?” I nearly screeched.

  “Ready to eat some crow?” Goober asked. “You have Winky to thank for it.”

  Goober pointed his spoon at the grinning, freckle-faced sleuth. He was beaming as if he’d just won a NASCAR trophy.

  “Yep,” Winky said proudly. “That there toilet-roll poodle had a big surprise waitin’ inside it. Nature called this mornin’ and I answered. I was about to wipe my butt with this here piece a paper when I noticed it had writing on it.”

  “Good ting you can read,” Jorge sneered.

  “I might be ignorant, Jorge, but I ain’t illigiterate,” he shot back.

  “I tink you mean illiterate, Pincho.”

  Winky scowled. “I’m gonna pinch yore –”

  “Guys! Enough!” I yelled.

  To my surprise, everyone shut up and stared at me. Once I had their attention, I stated the obvious.

  “Don’t you realize? This is absolute proof that Glad and Tony had a baby together.” I pointed at the paper. “Glad names Tony as the father right here!”

  “Yeah, we know, Val,” Goober said dryly. “As has been pointed out by someone just recently, we all can read.”

  My face reddened.

  Goober laughed and poked me in the ribs with his elbow. “Good news, eh?”

  I smiled. “Absolutely!”

  Goober knitted his bushy eyebrows together. “Val, why in the world would Glad put something as important as her baby’s birth certificate in a spare toilet-roll holder?”

  “It makes perfect sense to me,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  I blew out a breath. The three stooges leaned in to hear what I had to say.

  “Okay. Look at it this way. We all know how much Glad liked to hide things, right?”

  The stooges nodded.

  “Well, it’s simple women’s logic. Men never change the empty toilet roll. It’s the last place a man would ever think of looking.”

  The men exchanged glances, then shrugs, then more nods amongst themselves.

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” Goober said finally. “Let’s raise a toast to our clever girl Glad!”

  “Jes! A toast!” Jorge echoed.

  I raised my mug with them, put my left hand over my heart, and waited on Jorge’s double-click.

  ON THE WAY TO THE COUNTY morgue I felt close to Glad again. It was as if she was in the seat right next to me, beaming that crooked, smeary-red-lipstick, clown-denture smile of hers. Tucked away safely in my purse, I carried Glad’s ID, her daughter’s birth certificate, and that little gem-encrusted oval piece of jewelry I’d found in one of her shoeboxes. In a way, Glad really was along for the ride – what was left of her, at least. After I collected Glad’s personal effects, I planned to keep my promise to Tom and hand all the stuff over to Tony’s attorney and “let the chips fall where they may.”

  I pulled into a parking space at the morgue and rehearsed a scenario in my mind. I could lie and say Glad’s name wasn’t Fremden because she got married and I didn’t know it.

  Yes. That could work.

  I climbed out of Shabby Maggie and a thought hit me.

  Duh! You don’t have to lie, Val. That part is actually true!

  I shook my head, climbed out of the car, and headed for my date with the devilish clerk. When I walked in, he recognized me right away.

  “Ms. Fremden! You showed! Whew! I was beginning to feel the heat.”

  “What do you mean?” I stared into his piercing blue eyes that were so much like Glad’s.

  “Frenchy’s called here twice today, trying to find out how she can ‘bend the rules’ and get her hands on your aunt’s stuff.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. See it all the time. Dead bodies attract relatives like hungry sharks.” He looked around and lowered his voice. “People don’t understand. It’s like a personal-effects feeding frenzy around here.”

  “Oh. That’s awful.”

  The dimpled devil of a clerk shrugged. “Hazard of the biz. So, what have you got to show me, Ms. Fremden?”

  “Her Florida ID. Will that work?”

  “Sure will.”

  “Great! But I’m curious. How do you remember my name?”

  The goateed clerk winked a blue eye at me. “I guess because I thought it was funny. You were obviously scrounging around for your aunt’s ID last time. I knew you didn’t have one. As I said, I’ve seen it all here at the morgue. When you handed me your driver’s license, I saw your name was Fremden. My parents are German. I recognized that your last name means stranger. So that made you Valiant Stranger.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said.

  “Valiant Stranger? Come on! Doesn’t that sound like the coolest superhero name? And then your birthdate. April Fools’ Day? That was pure gold!”

  I was gobsmacked. This guy obviously had way too much time on his hands.

  “Wow. That’s...uh...interesting. So, tell me. If you were so suspicious of me, why did you let me claim Glad’s body?”

  The cute clerk glanced around the room quickly, then shot me a devilish grin that could make an angel think twice about busting through the pearly gates.

  “Easy. I make it a point not to mess with superheroes. Especially hot ones.”

  The clerk laughed, revealing a perfect set of gleaming white teeth. His slightly elongated incisors added to his devilish magnetism.

  How had I missed that before?

  I couldn’t help but grin.

  “Thanks. But my aunt isn’t a Fremden anymore. She’s a Goldrich. She got married. I didn’t know.” I handed him Glad’s ID.

  He gave it a quick glance. “Okay. That’ll work. Let me just make the corrections in the computer here and I’ll get the envelope with her effects. You want to examine them?”

  “No! Leave the envelope sealed. I’m dropping them off at her lawyer’s. I don’t want to give anyone any ammunition to say I stole something.”

  “Good idea. People can get really hinky when it comes to cash and prizes.”

  He punched the computer keys a few times and disappeared behind a door. A nearby printer jerked to life and started zapping out something. A minute or so later he came back and snatched the document off the printer. He handed it to me, along with a manila envelope. He’d placed a seal over the flap and scrawled his signature over it.

  “Okay, Ms. Fremden. Here’s your updated death cert and your aunt’s effects. I made sure no one could argue that the envelope had been opened. Gave it the official Darren Dudley seal of approval.”

  “Thanks. What’s your name?”

  “Uh...Darren Dudley?”

  I cringed. “Oh. Yeah. Darren Dudley. Of the official seal. Duh!”

  Darren flashed me another sexy smile. My gut churned with a strange mixture of attraction and repulsion. Darren was cute. Dead bodies weren’t. But I didn’t have time for contemplation. I needed to be on my way.

  “Uh, thanks again, Darren. Just for the record, you’re pretty cool.”

  Darren b
rightened like a megawatt bulb.

  “You too! Wanna go out sometime?”

  The directness of his question caught me totally off guard.

  “Uh...let me think about it. I’ve got a few things on my mind right now.”

  “Sure thing. Hey, Valiant. Don’t be a stranger!”

  I groaned. “That was awful. I might have to avenge that one.”

  Darren grinned. “I’m hoping so.”

  After vanquishing Bulldog Thelma and flirting with devilish Darren, I left the morgue feeling like Wonder Woman – the beautiful and powerful Valiant Stranger! I smiled and laid Glad’s envelope in the seat next to me, then shifted into reverse and headed for my next stop.

  Along the way, I thought about Darren’s offer of a date. Maybe I should have accepted. After all, Tom hadn’t actually asked me out. So far, he’d just been helping me with this crazy mission of mine. And he’d met my mother....

  Gawd! He probably thinks I’m nothing but a crazy hillbilly bent on revenge!

  I slammed on the brakes and felt my superhero powers tumble over the windshield and evaporate in the hot breeze.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  WHEN I STOPPED TO DROP off Glad’s things at the law offices of J.D. Fellows & Associates, I felt my super powers return a little. The birth certificate Winky had found was definitely going to put a kink in the Bulldog Thelma’s chain. I looked down at the envelope bearing Darren Dudley’s seal and wondered what it contained.

  Canine kryptonite, I hope!

  I couldn’t help but smirk as I stepped into in the posh lobby of Tony’s estate attorney. It reminded me of one I’d seen in a movie once. My sandals clicked on the gleaming, grey-granite floors. The navy-blue walls were accented by huge canvases of modern art that perfectly matched the sleek European furniture. This guy was certainly doing well for himself.

  I fingered baby Thelma’s birth certificate for the hundredth time. Hopefully, it was the key to solving this whole bloody mystery. I heard a noise and looked up. A tiny little man approached. He looked like one of Santa’s elves, only in a grey Armani suit. He stopped in front of me and spoke.

  “Ms. Fremden?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  I figured the diminutive man was a clerk or something. But I should have known better. Underlings couldn’t afford Armani. Not in this economy.

  “I’m J.D. Fellows. Nice to meet you.”

  I stood up and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too, sir.”

  I followed him back to his office. The furniture was expensive, but something seemed off about it. Then it hit me. Everything was smaller than normal scale. Mr. Fellows must have had every stick of furniture in the room custom-made to suit his smaller stature. I took a seat in a burgundy-colored leather chair in front of his desk. Being five-foot-four, my feet usually dangled from such chairs. But it was a perfect fit.

  I settled into the comfortable cushions. They lured me into a false sense of security, as I had no idea I was about to be attacked.

  “So tell me, Ms. Fremden,” said the tiny Mr. Fellows, Esq. from his towering position across his mahogany desk, “what exactly is your involvement with this case?”

  His words sounded more like an accusation than a question.

  “I...uh...I just came to drop off Glad’s...I mean Mrs. Goldrich’s personal effects.”

  “And how did you come to be in possession of them?”

  The tone of his voice was one I’d only heard before on TV – during a heated courtroom interrogation.

  “Are you a relative of Ms. Goldrich’s?”

  “Uh...no sir.”

  “Then, I ask again, how did you come to be in possession of her personal effects?”

  “Excuse me, sir. Am I on trial here?”

  The question caused a tiny fracture in the man’s serious expression. He eyed me carefully and let the fracture grow into a smile.

  “No. Forgive me, Ms. Fremden. It just seems...highly unusual.”

  “I understand. I’m a friend of Glad’s. I mean, I was a friend of Glad’s.”

  “I see. I was, too. And of Anthony’s.” Mr. Fellows let out a puff of laughter. “She was an original, that woman.”

  I relaxed a little bit and smiled. “She sure was.”

  Mr. Fellows looked at the envelope in my hand and spoke with a softer tone, stating the obvious. “So, do you have the effects with you?”

  “Oh. Yes. Here.”

  I handed him the envelope.

  “Still sealed, I see.”

  “Yes sir. I just want whatever’s in there to end up in the right hands.”

  “And whose hands would those be?”

  “I’m not sure. You’re the lawyer. But if you’ll indulge me, Mr. Fellows, I have a theory.”

  The small man burst into a surprisingly large laugh.

  “A theory. Okay. I’m game.”

  “Tony’s will states that everything is to go to Thelma G. Goldrich, right?”

  “Yes. Don’t remind me. She’s been calling me every day with her demands.”

  My gut flopped. “I didn’t know that. What does she want?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Of course. Right. But isn’t her name actually G. Thelma Goldrich?”

  “Yes. That’s the only reason I haven’t released the will yet. That, plus a favor for a mutual friend of ours. I believe you know Mr. Thomas Foreman?”

  My face felt as if I’d just stuck it inside a pizza oven.

  “Yes. So...you already know the whole story?”

  “No. Mr. Foreman only asked me to delay distribution of the will for a few weeks. He said he had good cause. I figured there was no harm in it.”

  “Pardon me for being up front, but I think G. Thelma Goldrich is not the person Tony had in mind as his heir.”

  Mr. Fellows leaned forward. “Go on.”

  I handed him the piece of paper that yesterday nearly met its fate in the crack of Winky’s butt.

  “That’s the birth certificate for Glad and Tony’s daughter, Thelma G. Goldrich. I believe she’s the true heir named in the will.”

  Mr. Fellows’ eyes grew wide. “Where did you get this?”

  I borrowed a line from him. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Mr. Fellows smiled wryly. He laughed again and spoke in a more casual tone.

  “Please, Ms. Fremden, go on.”

  “There’s more, Mr. Fellows. I think we’ve found her, too. The only thing is –”

  “She’s insane,” interrupted Mr. Fellows.

  I was stunned speechless. My mouth hung open like a dead trout.Tony’s attorney sighed and leaned back in his chair.

  “Let’s just say that I’ve been down this road before, Ms. Fremden. She’s not a match, my dear.”

  “The woman in Chattahoochee? You already tested her DNA?”

  “Yes, and it was inconclusive.”

  “Crap!” I yelled, then caught myself. “Sorry. How long ago did you do the test?”

  “I can’t recall offhand, but it’s been a long, long time.”

  “Maybe the tests were wrong. Lab tests get screwed up, you know. And with today’s technology, maybe they can do a better job now.”

  Mr. Fellows sighed and studied me for a moment.

  “You are an interesting woman, Ms. Fremden. I admire your tenacity. And your hopefulness. Maybe you’re right. What would it hurt to have the woman’s DNA tested again? DNA technology has come a long way in the past few years.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. It shouldn’t be long now. The DNA samples are already at a lab in Tallahassee.”

  Mr. Fellows’ right eyebrow shot to his hairline.

  “I see. You certainly are the resourceful one, I’ll give you that.”

  He looked to the left for a moment and absently tapped his right index finger on his mahogany desk. “I tell you what, Ms. Fremden. I am at liberty to delay distribution of the will until Friday of next week. Will that buy you the time you
need?”

  “The time I need? I’m sorry, but I’m officially done with the case. Tom...uh...Mr. Foreman is having the lab forward its DNA findings to you. It’s all in your hands now.”

  “Very well. But tell me the truth, Ms. Fremden. Why are you really involved in this case?”

  “If you knew Glad like you say you did, sir, then you already know.”

  Mr. Fellows looked at some distant point and smiled.

  “Yes. And you...as I said before, are an interesting woman, Ms. Fremden. I hope you’re right.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  TWO DAYS HAD PASSED since I’d heard from Tom. I flopped onto my ugly couch and checked my phone again. No voice messages. No texts. No nothing. I presumed, like the rest of the world, Tom just wasn’t interested in someone as screwed up as me. I tossed my phone on the couch and bit my lip.

  Another potential relationship down the crapper.

  I vowed to myself not to call Tom, then tromped to my bedroom to change into my bathing suit. A trip to Sunset Beach might cheer me up – or at least keep me from going more nuts than I already was.

  I was yanking my shirt off over my head when I heard a loud banging sound. I pulled my shirt back on and went into the living room. Someone was beating on my front door!

  I peeked out between the slats in the blinds covering the window pane that made up the top half of the door. To my horror, Bulldog Thelma’s angry, red eyes stared back at me! I dropped the blinds like they were molten lava. The doorknob rattled as if it were being throttled. Then the banging started again, even harder and louder than before.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Bulldog Thelma screamed through the door. “Keep your busybody nose out of my business!”

  She was silent for a moment. Maybe she was waiting on a response from me. I didn’t give her the satisfaction. Besides, I was at a total loss as to what to say.

  “Tony was my husband!” she screamed again. “It’s my money. I’m warning you! Keep your trashy behind out of my affairs!”