by Raven Snow
“We just can’t,” said Rose. She seemed to realize that that particular explanation wasn’t cutting it. She took a deep breath. “His mother would hate me,” she said instead.
“If his mother hates you, she’s going to find reasons to hate you regardless,” said Rowen. “Trust me. I know this from experience.” She offered her cousin a reassuring smile. “You can’t let that woman dictate your career. Come on. We’re just publishing the facts. We’ll still put out that piece on the sort of man he was. She probably won’t like that either, but Ben will. He’s the only one you need to concern yourself with out of that family.”
“I still don’t want to upset her,” said Rose, though she sounded like she was caving. She gave a sigh. “Fine,” she said. “But I don’t want to be the one who writes it.”
“Fair enough,” said Rowen, relieved. She wasn’t sure how frustrated she would have been had Rose refused to let her publish the story, but she knew it would have been rough.
“I want to read it before you put it out though,” Rose added quickly. “Just don’t put my name anywhere on it.”
“Also fair,” said Rowen with a nod. “I’ll get started. How about you take the rest of the day off?” She had told Rose she didn’t have to come in today, but Rose had insisted.
“Are you sure?” Rose asked, still hesitant to leave even though it was obvious how stressed out she was by the events of the day and previous night. “Margo isn’t here.”
“You say that like she was ever a huge help,” Rowen said with a laugh. Her cousin Margo had always been one of her worst employees. It wasn’t that she was bad at what she did. She just found any opportunity to go off and do something else. This past month she had been traveling with Eric’s brother, David.
Not all that long ago, Eric’s parents had decided they were going to cut David out and leave him the business. Eric hadn’t been comfortable with that idea. He had let David know the business would always be half his and, ever since, David had really thrown himself into work. Margo tagged along for every business trip so far. She said it was because she loved David too much to be apart from him for so long. Rowen was sure it was because she just felt like traveling. She wasn’t particularly thrilled with Margo at the moment.
“This is all pretty big news,” said Rose, referring to what had happened to Ben’s uncle.
“It is,” Rowen agreed. “But I can’t exactly insist you stay here and cover it all. What is it they call that? A conflict of interest? Go on. See if Ben needs any moral support. This has got to be pretty rough on him.”
Rose frowned at that. “He’s been a little distant,” she said, chewing on the inside of her mouth after admitting as much.
“Well, it’s a frustrating situation,” said Rowen in Ben’s defense. “A member of his family just died, and he can’t be the one to investigate it.”
“I guess,” said Rose, like she was just trying to let the subject go. It was clear she didn’t necessarily agree with Rowen but didn’t want to discuss it anymore.
Something was wrong. “What is it?”
“It’s fine,” said Rose, waving a hand like she didn’t want Rowen to concern herself.
“Tell me.”
Rose took a deep breath. “It’s stupid,” she said. “And it makes me sound like a horrible person.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Rowen.
Rose didn’t look so sure. “I’m still sort of mad at him about dinner last night,” she admitted, looking down at the floor as she said it. “After all that’s happened, I can’t exactly bring it up. I’m not going to bring it up. I just…I don’t know…See? I told you it was awful.”
“It’s not,” Rowen said quickly. “You’re allowed to be annoyed at him. His uncle dropping dead doesn’t negate everything he did right before that.”
“But I can’t bring it up,” said Rose.
“No,” agreed Rowen. “It would probably be bad timing to say anything about that any time soon. Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be annoyed.”
Rose gave a sigh. “A lot of good that does me.” She went to leave anyway, telling Rowen she was going to go spend the day with Ben. Her heart was in the right place. If there was anything Rowen was certain of, it was that her cousin Rose was a good person.
Chapter Three
Odds & Ends really was doing surprisingly well. The store Rowen’s family owned had a great location. It might have faced quite a bit of backlash in its early days, but now it was old news. When Rowen went in that afternoon, there were a few customers milling about. She could hear her mother in the back, making a big show out of reading someone’s fortune with a deck of tarot cards.
“Rowen!” Aunt Lydia sang, standing up from where she sat behind the front counter. “What a nice surprise.” She came around and gave her niece a great big hug. “What brings you here?” she asked.
“Just thought I would come and help you close,” she said, hugging her aunt back. “I haven’t helped out here in a while.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said. She looked back at the counter, where Rowen’s Uncle Norman was also seated. “Isn’t that sweet of her?” she asked him, loudly.
Norman had his eyes closed. He didn’t seem to be asleep, but he might have been trying. Aunt Lydia sounded rather resentful of this fact. “She’s only here because of what happened at that Ben fellow’s house,” said Norman with a sigh. He opened his eyes and smiled at Rowen anyway. “It’s good to have you here. We can always use the help.”
“What do you mean?” asked Aunt Lydia. She looked a bit alarmed. She was always so on top of gossip. “What happened to Ben?”
“His uncle,” said Norman. He looked at Rowen, indicating that she could tell her the rest. He relaxed back into his chair.
“Remember when Rose went to meet his family?” asked Rowen.
Aunt Lydia nodded. “Of course,” she said. “That poor man choked to death—oh, that’s why you’re here. You’re thinking about how we’ll all die eventually. That’s sweet, dear. Morbid, but sweet. I suppose you can never really know when your number is up. Poor Rose is taking it hard, but it’s not like any of this was her fault. Granted, I’m sure that horrible woman is going to find some way to make it out to be.”
Rowen was glad someone else in the family disliked Mrs. Williamson as much as she did. All the same, she shushed her aunt. There were other people in the store after all. They were all getting some odd looks as people peeked around shelves in their direction. “And he didn’t choke to death,” said Rowen, whispering. She figured she might as well tell Aunt Lydia. She had already posted the article about it. If she didn’t let her aunt know, she would take it as some kind of personal insult when she found out.
“What do you mean?” asked Aunt Lydia. Even Norman looked interested to hear what she had to say.
Rowen threw a self-conscious look over her shoulder, checking to see if anyone else was listening in before she continued. “They did a toxicology report,” Rowen explained. “I checked my facts as best I could, and it seems like he was poisoned with something called white baneberry.”
“Doll’s-eyes,” said Aunt Lydia. “We grow them in the herb garden.” She put a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “My goodness,” she said. “Has Rose heard about this?” To Lydia’s credit, she didn’t seem too pleased by this piece of news. It probably didn’t have much to do with the man that was killed. Lydia was probably just concerned about Rose. She loved her daughter dearly.
“She’s the one who told me first,” said Rowen.
Aunt Lydia frowned at that. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me,” she complained. “It’s bad enough she didn’t come home after all that happened.”
“She’s a grown woman,” Norman reminded her. “And I can think of a few reasons why she wouldn’t want to come running to you with this information.”
“She’ll always be my baby,” Aunt Lydia muttered. She leaned back against the counter with a frown. “Well, I hope t
hey figure out who did it. Someone who was in the house that night, I imagine. Oh, this is going to be a mess.”
“You think someone in Ben’s family is a murderer?” asked Rowen. She couldn’t help but be a little skeptical of that. It hit a little too close to home, maybe. It was difficult to picture any of them as the homicidal type.
“Oh, yes,” said Aunt Lydia. “That family has always had its squabbles.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rowen. She knew the Williamsons had lived in Lainswich for some time. She didn’t know many specifics about their lives aside from the basics.
“Well, this shop used to belong to them,” said Lydia. “You remember the video rental place that used to be here. We took you all the time.”
Rowen thought back. She vaguely remembered the place being staffed by bored teenagers. Now that she thought about it, she did recall the Williamson kids playing around the store an awful lot. She recalled seeing a lot of members of the Williamson family there, actually. “If I knew, it slipped my mind.”
“Before it was a video store, it was a record shop,” said Uncle Norman. He smiled to himself as if thinking back fondly. “I used to meet a lot of girls here after school.”
“They changed a bit with the times,” said Lydia. “This place was in the family for a while. Mrs. Williamson was the one who finally let it go. I’m not sure how she feels about us Greensmiths setting up shop here. I wonder if she would have sold at all if she knew.”
Uncle Norman laughed. “She probably would have burned the place down first.”
“What kind of issues did they have?” asked Rowen. She couldn’t help but be a bit curious. She had a feeling this was a particular mystery she was going to find herself looking into during the coming weeks, so she might as well ask.
“Oh, a bunch,” said Aunt Lydia, thinking back. “Let’s see, there was Mrs. Williamson’s late husband, Peter. He ran the store. That made…Oh, what was Mrs. Williamson’s maiden name?” Lydia looked at Norman.
“Lydell,” Norman said after a moment. “Anita Lydell.”
“That’s right.” Lydia nodded. “Anita had two siblings who wanted the place. They thought Anita’s husband was running it into the ground. They wanted it to stay a record shop, I think. The Lydells left it to Anita, though. She was the oldest.”
“So, typical bickering family stuff,” said Rowen.
Aunt Lydia nodded. “It’s just as well they changed the store when they did. It was time for a change. The record store had already gone under when their uncle died.”
“I remember that,” said Norman with a frown.
Lydia nodded. “Hard to forget. It was all anyone talked about for a while there.”
“What happened?” asked Rowen, though she was sure Lydia was going to continue on with the story anyway. She did love her gossip. Even old gossip.
“The two youngest Lydells were raised by their uncle,” Lydia said. “The parents died, and he took them in. He was a terrible guardian from what I heard. Everyone was saying Anita should have taken the kids in. She was eighteen at the time…” Lydia trailed off, sounded like she felt something approaching sympathy for Mrs. Williamson.
“How did he die?” asked Rowen.
“Car accident,” said Lydia, as if that should be no surprise. “He’d had too much to drink one night and drove right off that bridge uptown. No one else was hurt, thank goodness.”
“What happened to the kids then?” asked Rowen.
Aunt Lydia was silent for a moment, her brow furrowed as she thought back all those years. “The kids were still fairly young. I think they got put in the system.”
“They did,” Norman said with a nod. “Trish Lydell was in my year. I remember when she and her brother got pulled out. Sad stuff. I was never too close to them, but I heard the rumors. It was just as well they got put into foster care, I guess. From the sound of it, that uncle of theirs was a mess. He couldn’t have taken very good care of them.”
“Now I feel kind of awful for being so judgmental of Mrs. Williamson,” Rowen muttered.
“Oh, don’t,” Aunt Lydia said quickly. “Believe you me, she was a royal pain before she lost her parents. I went to school with that monster.” She gave a shiver for dramatic effect. “She’s never been a good person.”
That made Rowen feel a bit better. Still, it did humanize Ben’s mom a bit, and it made Rowen wonder at Mrs. Williamson’s past. She was about to ask a few more questions when the little bell over the door rang. Rowen looked back to see Rose coming in. She looked like she had had quite a long day. She dragged her feet as she walked, and she was leaning into the weight of her purse. Rowen could just feel the fatigue coming off of her.
“Rose!” Aunt Lydia held out her arms for a hug. “So happy you stopped by. We were just talking about you.”
“Were you?” Rose hugged her mother. Right after that, she went behind the counter to sink into a chair.
“Well, we were talking about that nasty business with poor Ben. How is he?”
Rose dropped her purse and leaned back with a sigh. “He’s busy, stressed out.”
“Of course, he is,” said Lydia, sounding sympathetic. “Is there anything we can do; do you think? Should I bake him something? I’ll bake him something.”
“They made arrangements for the funeral already,” said Rose. “It’s tomorrow, so…You can come with me to that.”
“Of course,” said Aunt Lydia, looking a little too pleased by the invitation. She did so like being at the heart of some drama. “Should we all go?”
“Surely not,” Rowen said, quickly. She gave a nervous sort of laugh when she realized she might have said that too fast. “Mrs. Williamson can’t stand the Greensmiths.”
“This isn’t about Ben’s mom,” said Rose. “That’s what Ben said anyway—that it wasn’t about his mom. His uncle didn’t have many people he was close to. It’s just going to be family there and some coworkers that didn’t know him that well, Ben says. He said to tell you guys to come, if you were up for it. Funerals are doubly depressing when no one goes to them, I think.”
Rowen supposed Ben had a point there. “We’ll come,” she said before Uncle Norman could say anything on the matter. She wasn’t sure how this was going to play out, but it seemed like the least she could do.
Chapter Four
Willard Lydell’s funeral was a depressing affair. As a general rule, funerals weren’t happy events. Rowen, at least, hoped her own funeral would be a gathering where people who loved her exchanged happy stories about her. This particular funeral was just about the unhappiest she had ever attended.
The day was a rainy one. It was overcast and dreary as they trudged along to the graveside. There was an awning put up, but it was leaking in places and water drizzled through, making the velvet-covered folding chairs uncomfortably damp. Normally, the velvet chairs were for family, but there weren’t that many people there. Only the front two rows were taken up.
Willard’s family was there. All the people who had been there on the night of his death were in attendance. They all sat in somber silence, on occasion nodding along with the words of the preacher. In the second row, there were a couple of people Rowen didn’t recognize. Some Greensmiths sat next to them. Nadine and Lydia had come. Tiffany and Norman had stayed behind to mind the store. Willow and Peony were back at the Inquirer updating the blog. The story about Ben’s family was the hottest thing in town right now.
The preacher had some nice things to say at least. It was a bit generic, but Rowen felt like the funeral had gone well enough by the time Willard was lowered into the ground. After that, everyone grouped up to speak quietly to one another.
Nadine and Lydia broke off into a group with two people Rowen didn’t recognize, and Rowen went to join Rose. She was with Ben, of course. He, in turn, was speaking to his mother and Trish, his aunt. “I thought it was a nice service,” Rowen said when she joined their little semi-circle. It seemed like the right thing to say.
Tr
ish gave her a strained smile. Mrs. Williamson didn’t even try to smile. “I wish more of his coworkers would have come,” she complained. “This turn out is just shameful.”
“He hated his job at the department store,” said Trish. “He wouldn’t have cared if his coworkers skipped out on this.”
“It’s common courtesy,” grumbled Mrs. Williamson.
“Well, we’re glad you came by to pay your respects,” said Ben, giving Rowen a smile.
Rowen nodded. “Of course.” She hadn’t known the guy, obviously. She had come more for Rose and Ben’s sake. That didn’t need to be said, though. She assumed a more serious expression. “I’m sorry for your loss. I really am.”
