Murder in Madden

by Raegan Teller

  “We were kids, experimenting, trying to forget. We got caught a few times. My dad threatened to send me to a military boarding school if I didn’t stop seeing her. One time, Molly caught me and Rosie in the barn on their farm. Rachel was there too. I’ve never seen Molly that mad. She was sure me and Rosie had gotten Rachel hooked on drugs.” He slapped at a bug that had landed on his arm. “Goes to show how much Molly knew her daughter. Rachel was always telling us to straighten up and quit. She fussed over us like a mama hen.”

  “Where did you buy the drugs?”

  “At first, I got weed from a friend of mine. That was fine for a while, but then Rosie wanted something stronger. I only used drugs a few years, and then I quit. I tried to get Rosie to quit too, but when she found out about her mother, she became self-destructive.” His cleared his throat. “Then one day I found her in the tool shed behind Myra’s house. She had passed out. I couldn’t get her to wake up and got scared. I ran in and told Myra to get her to the emergency room.” His voice cracked. “Rosie wouldn’t speak to me after that, because she got in big trouble with Myra. Rachel later told me Rosie had started buying the hard stuff from Eddie. You know, from the biker gang. I went to see Rosie a few times, to tell her to be careful, but she refused to see me. Myra was really worried about her. I was too.” He wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “Then one day, out of the blue, Rosie came to see me and asked me to take her to a job interview. I was supposed to pick up her the day she was … you know, the day she disappeared.”

  Enid pulled a tissue from her tote and handed it to him. “What happened that day? Did you see her at all?”

  He shook his head. “I was supposed to pick her up at the corner, but I was running late. When I got there, I didn’t see her anywhere. I drove around trying to find her, and then went to the insurance agency where she was supposed to have the interview. They said she never showed up. I waited there for over an hour and then went back to Myra’s to see if she was home. I never saw her again.”

  He turned his back slightly to Enid and cried softly. She wanted to comfort him but decided to leave him alone with his memories of Rosie.

  After a few minutes, he turned back to face Enid. “I figured she had blown off the interview. I was mad at her for being irresponsible.” He blew his nose with the tissue. “Sorry. I guess I had a lot bottled up inside. I should have trusted her and realized something was wrong. Maybe I could have done something to save her.”

  “I’m sure there was nothing you could have done. And please don’t apologize. I’m sorry this interview is painful for you.” Enid hesitated. “Do you feel like a few more questions?”

  He nodded.

  “I need to ask you the most obvious question.” She looked at the sad young man sitting beside her, and her heart ached for him. So much for journalist objectivity. “What do you think happened to Rosie? Who killed her?”

  Ray just sat there, and she wondered if he had even heard her.

  “Ray?”

  He started to say something but stopped. Instead, he shook his head. “I don’t know.” Ray was beginning to fidget.

  “Do you think your dad, the chief, knows who did it?” Did your father kill Rosie? Is he protecting someone?

  Ray stood up just as a few drops of rain began to fall. “Let’s just say he knows more than I do.” After he had taken a few steps toward his car, he turned back to Enid. “He sure as hell didn’t lose sleep any sleep over Rosie’s murder.” Ray clenched his fists a few times before turning away again.

  Enid called out after him. “Ray, wait. Please.” She grabbed the handkerchief on the bench as she walked toward him. “Here, this is yours,” she said as she held it out toward him.

  “Keep it.”

  Enid decided to press him further or lose the opportunity forever. “I think Eddie killed Rosie and that your father was paid to turn his back.” She waited for him to react but he just stood there, silent. “Why did you meet secretly with Eddie at the old grain store the other day?”

  He hesitated before replying. “Eddie and I went to school together. For a while at least, until he got kicked out. He’s had a tough life and had to fend for himself. I hate that he turned to the gang and selling drugs, but he’s not a bad guy.” Ray laughed. “I can’t believe I’m standing here defending Eddie.”

  “Are you saying he didn’t kill Rosie?”

  Ray kicked at a rock, stirring up dust that eventually settled on his shoes. “He swears he didn’t touch her.”

  “And you believe him?” The rain had started.

  Ray stuck his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

  Enid’s mind was swirling with a million things she wanted to ask. “The autopsy report said Rosie had goat hairs on her clothing. Where was she exposed to goats?”

  He looked surprised and started to say something, but stopped and kicked at a rock. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you need to forget about her.” He stiffened and spat out his next words, “Go home, Ms. Blackwell. You don’t want to tangle with my father, and certainly not with Eddie. He’s not a monster, but he’ll do what he has to do to protect his business interests. Don’t mess with him.”

  He walked briskly back to his car, started the engine, and drove away, spraying loose gravel in his wake. Enid stood in the rain watching the one person whom Rosie had loved and trusted drive away.

  CHAPTER 48

  Enid pulled into the inn’s parking lot and saw Jack’s car. She decided to go in the back entrance to avoid questions about where she had been. When she opened the back door, Jack and Cassie were sitting at the big kitchen table eating one of Cassie’s famously good omelets.

  “Jack, I’m surprised to see you here.” She then said to Cassie. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was going out. Don’t let me interrupt anything—I’ll just head upstairs.”

  Jack stood up and pulled out a chair for Enid. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re going to sit down right here and explain yourself.” Both Cassie and Jack looked at her with serious expressions.

  Enid set her tote on the floor and sat in the chair. “Well, okay. But I’m not sure what I need to explain.” This is not going to be a good conversation.

  Cassie held up the note Enid had left on her pillow. “Maybe this will jog your memory. I found it when I went in to turn down your bed.”

  Enid sighed. “I didn’t mean to alarm you, but I wanted to let someone know where I was.”

  “Dammit, do you have a death wish or something?” Jack shook his head. “I can’t believe you went out to meet Ray Jensen alone, especially in an isolated location.” Jack made a noise that reminded Enid of a horse exhaling air when it was being saddled. “Damn foolish, even for you.”

  “I’m sorry I worried you.” Looking at Cassie’s face, Enid’s heart ached for her. “I can only imagine how you must worry because of what happened to Mark.” Enid turned to Jack. “And, I know you lost someone close to you too. You don’t know how much I appreciate the fact that you two care about me.” She paused briefly. “But you’re interfering with my work.”

  Jack said somberly, “Is this one of your ‘I’m a serious journalist’ speeches?”

  Enid laughed, mostly at herself. “Yes, I am a serious journalist, and I was out doing journalist stuff.”

  Cassie walked to the stove. “Then I’ll get you a cup of tea and you can tell us what you found out. Unless this is a private conversation. Maybe I should let the two of you talk.”

  “No, of course it’s not private. Please stay.” Enid filled them in on her meeting with Ray. “Ray confirmed Rosie got drugs from him and then later bought them from Eddie. In spite of what Ray said, I think Eddie, or perhaps one of his bikers, did it. Ray’s perception of Eddie is from high school, and I think Ray might be blind as to who Eddie has become. He’s more hardened that Ray described.” Enid recalled Eddie’s earlier warning at the cemetery. Later.

  Cassie nibbled on a shortbread cookie.
“Where does that leave Chief Jensen? Do you think he’s involved?”

  Jack had been silent but jumped back into the conversation. “Before we answer that question, I think you need to rethink the lead for your story. You keep saying you’re writing about Rosie’s life. But I think you are writing about her murder.” When Enid started to speak, he held up his hand to stop her. “And I think you want to solve it.”

  Cassie stood up and went to the sink with her back to the table. “I can’t watch another person I care about get killed by those bikers. I won’t.”

  Enid turned to Jack. “I’m haunted by Rosie. I see her face in my sleep. When I think of how she must have felt, the fact that she couldn’t trust her family any longer. I keep seeing her body in the woods.” She cleared her throat. “I won’t turn my back on her, too.”

  Cassie walked away from the sink and stood behind Enid, putting her hand on Enid’s shoulder. Enid looked up at Cassie. “I’m going to find another place to stay. My being here has reopened old wounds for you. That was insensitive of me.”

  Cassie sat back in the chair and put her hand on Enid’s arm. “No, you’re not going to move out. My pain is not your problem.” She squared her shoulders. “Besides, I’m the innkeeper, not your mother. If you want to put yourself in danger, I can’t stop you.”

  Jack stood up. “I can’t stop you either, but I hope you’ll reconsider. We don’t know the bikers killed Rosie. Hell, it could have been anyone. And that person may or may not still be in Madden.” He added, almost as though he were talking to himself. “But something’s not right. We should be getting answers, not more questions.” He looked at Enid. “You still got that gun Cassie gave you?”

  Enid pointed to her tote bag. “It’s right there.”

  “Good. Keep it handy. ’Night, ladies. I’m headed to the barn.” He started to leave, then stopped. “Oh, by the way, I’ve got to go back to Chicago to take care of some family business.”

  After Jack left, Enid reached out and took Cassie’s hand in hers. “I’m glad you’re more than just the innkeeper. You remind me so much of my mother.” She cleared her throat to keep from choking on her words. “Tomorrow is the anniversary of her death.”

  Cassie dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “I’m so sorry, honey. You miss her don’t you?”

  Enid nodded. “I hate to admit it, but there were times when I resented her for getting cancer. I hated that I had to leave journalism and spend our savings on her medical bills.” Her voice trailed off and she blinked away the tears. “But researching this story has made me realize that I can’t rewrite the past, as Cade has accused me of doing. I have to own it and admit that I stopped writing because I didn’t think I was good enough.” She stared at the wall in front of her. “Cade is so much better than I could ever be. He was my role model, my idol.”

  “And now you resent him for giving up the life you wanted,” said Cassie. “Your hero fell, and then he left you.”

  Enid buried her face in her hands and sobbed, releasing years of pain, sorrow, and confusion. Cassie brought her a box of tissues and set them on the table in front of her. “Turn out the lights when you go up. Good night, honey.”

  As Cassie was leaving the room, she turned back to Enid. “I want you to remember something. One of the reasons I’ve been so concerned is that I know you have to write this story. It found you, not the other way around. Maybe Cade is a better reporter than you are, but he doesn’t have your heart. He could walk away—but you can’t.” She smiled and cocked her head to one side. “And don’t you forget it. Me and Jack are both scarred—we’re still healing too. But in a different way from you. This story is your way of healing. I see that now, and I know Rosie is up there smiling down at you,” she said, pointing above. “Sleep tight.”

  And don’t let the bedbugs bite. Enid’s heart ached recalling the phrase her mother used to whisper in her ear each night.

  CHAPTER 49

  Cassie was going to be busy all day meeting with contractors about the finishing touches to inn’s renovations, and Jack was flying to Chicago later, so Enid had the day to herself. She realized she had never asked Rachel about the goat hairs. Today would be a good day to tie up that loose end.

  When Rachel answered her phone, her tone was sharp. “Why are you calling me? There’s nothing else I can tell you.”

  “Rachel, wait. Please don’t hang up,” said Enid. “I just have a one question I forgot to ask you earlier.” Enid could hear people talking in the background. “Are you at work?”

  “Yes, and I need to hang up. My boss is going to be furious if he catches me talking on my cell.”

  “Okay, I’ll be quick. Where could Rosie have come into contact with goat hair?”

  “You mean a live goat, or like a sweater or something?”

  Enid tried to remember the details of the coroner’s report. She didn’t recall anything about dyes or chemicals on the goat hairs. “Live goats, I think.”

  “I’m coming,” Rachel yelled to someone. “Sorry, I really gotta go. There’s a lot of goats around here, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard. But was Rosie around goats? Please just tell me.”

  Even though Rachael was anxious to hang up, she took a long pause before replying. “If I think of anything I’ll call you.” Rachel hung up, and Enid mentally filed the conversation away in her nice-try-but-this-was-a-dead-end box. Still, there was something about the conversation with Rachel that bothered her.

  Enid thought about the local goat cheese Cassie often served. She jumped up and ran to the refrigerator. Pushing aside a carton of milk and a container of eggs, she found a small plastic container with a handwritten label on the top. “Spicy Goat Cheese.” Enid remembered the tangy taste and how good it tasted with Cassie’s homemade crackers. Enid pulled the container out to look at it. On the bottom of the container, a small printed label read “Robinson Goat Farm” but gave no other information.

  Enid opened her laptop and did a search for the goat farm. Nothing came up. She tried several other combinations of words and phrases. Who doesn’t have a website these days? Frustrated, she dug down into her tote and pulled out Helen’s business card from the Madden Gazette and called her number.

  After a few rings, Helen answered. Enid reminded her they had met with Jack to talk about Frank.

  “Of course, I remember you. Did Jack give you the information on Frank … what’s his name?”

  “Frank Kelly. Yes, thanks. That article you found was helpful.” Enid resisted telling Helen about Frank’s relationship to Molly, at least until Enid could make more sense of it. “I’m calling because I’m trying to find a goat farm, the Robinson Goat Farm. According to an article I found, I think the owner is Toby Robinson. Have you ever heard of the farm or know where I can reach the owners?”

  “May I assume this has something to do with your story about that Garrett girl?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure at this point. I’m hoping the owners might be able to help me with a few questions I have.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Enid heard the sound of typing on a keyboard. A moment later, Helen returned to the call. “Robinson Goat Farm is a subscriber, but the address is the Gazette’s private information. I’m not sure how I can help you.”

  Enid tried to think of what Jack would do to get Helen to give up the information. He wouldn’t have to do much, because Helen clearly worshiped him. “I understand. I’ll just tell Jack you weren’t able to help us. Thanks, and sorry to bother you.”

  “Now wait a minute. Did I say I wasn’t going to help?” She made a slight grunting noise, and Enid smiled to herself. “Just don’t go making headlines about where you got this information, that’s all.” Helen gave Enid the address of the farm and then gave her directions on how to get there.

  “You’ve been a great help. I’ll be sure to let Jack know.”

  “You tell him to come thank me personally.” Helen chuckled and hung up.

  * * *

  Ab
out 20 minutes later, just outside of Madden, Enid saw a sign for Robinson Goat Farm beside the road. The sign was leaning and looked like a car had hit it while turning onto the narrow road. She was glad Helen had given her directions, because she doubted her GPS would have found this place. A white wooden fence separated the farm from the highway. The big white gate was open, so Enid drove through it. A short distance up the gravel driveway, she saw a woman walking from one of the well-kept barns. Enid parked the car and got out.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m looking for Mr. Robinson.” The woman looked at her as if she had not heard Enid, so Enid walked a little closer.

  “He’s not here.” The woman hesitated. “I mean my husband’s dead.” She held out her hand. “I’m Bonnie. Can I help you?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was deceased.” Enid shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Bonnie. I’m Enid Blackwell. I’m a guest at the Glitter Lake Inn. You may know Cassie. She serves your goat cheese often.”

  Bonnie seemed to relax at the mention of Cassie. “Yes, I know Cassie. She’s one of my best customers.” Bonnie invited Enid to join her for some refreshments.

  Enid followed her to one of the four rocking chairs overlooking the front lawn. The gray paint had peeled off the arms of the chair and weathered wood exposed years of wear. She envisioned Toby and Bonnie sitting out here for hours, talking about their little farm.

  Bonnie returned to the porch with a pitcher of lemonade and small sandwiches made with cucumber and goat cheese on homemade rye bread.

  Enid took a bite. “Oh, my. This is delicious.”

  “Thanks. That blend of cheese is, or was, Toby’s favorite.” Bonnie looked over toward one of the barns as if she expected to see Toby come walking up to the porch.

  After a few minutes of small talk, Enid put her glass on the little table between them. “Of course, I’d like to buy some of this wonderful cheese while I’m here.” She paused. “But I’d also like to ask you for some information.”