by Leslie Caine
“There she is,” I heard a man say. I looked toward the voice. It was the eulogist, Fitz’s brother Jeffrey, standing beside a slightly thinner and paler look-alike who could only be a second brother.
“Do I know you, Mr. Parker?” I asked my passive-aggressive accuser, walking toward him.
“No, but I know all about you, Miss Gilbert. You have no right to be here.”
Drew must have been standing right behind me. He suddenly marched past me and stood directly in front of me, as if I needed a human shield. “Listen, buddy, you’re barking up the wrong tree. That’s all very understandable. You’re grieving. Losing your brother is messing with your head. I can tell you this much, for dead certain. Whatever you think you know about Ms. Gilbert, you’re way off-base. She’d never kill anyone.”
“Oh, yeah? You think you know what I’m all about?” Jeffrey snarled, glaring at Drew.
The other brother grabbed him and said, “C’mon, Jeff. We have to leave this to the police. We can’t jump to conclusions and make accusations right and left.”
“Fitz talked to me about her!” Jeffrey protested. “You don’t understand!” Despite his statements, he allowed himself to be led away.
Aunt Bea came around the corner of the funeral home just then. Her bristling demeanor made it clear that she had overheard at least part of the miserable conversation.
“Wait,” I said to Jeffrey. “I have no idea what’s going on. What did Fitz say that makes you think I’m somehow culpable?”
Jeffrey and his brother continued to walk away without reply.
“I’m glad one of you stood up for Erin,” Aunt Bea snarled at Steve.
“I was perfectly fine, Bea,” I objected. I—”
“Drew just beat me to the punch, is all,” Steve snapped back.
I was sure that was true. Neither of us had known that Drew was rushing up behind us.
Bea grabbed my arm. Her face bore that same expression of quiet desperation as when she first told me a week ago that she was feeling doomed. “Far be it from me to interfere,” Bea said, “but you and Steve need to rethink your wedding plans. Elope, Erin. Leave early for your European honeymoon. The killer isn’t finished.”
Chapter 16
“What makes you think I need to leave town?” I asked. “Are you afraid that I’m next, thanks to what Fitz’s brother said just now?”
She shook her head. “The released spirits are at play.” Bea thumped her cane on the concrete sidewalk. “I have a sixth sense for these things. This isn’t over.”
“You can’t know that, Aunt Bea,” Drew scoffed. “Not unless you know who the killer is, and you’re holding out on us.”
“I don’t know who the killer is, but I can feel a horrible malevolence. It’s engulfing all of us like a black aura.” She glared at Drew.
Drew lifted his palms. “I’m not seeing any auras. Just a lot of clouds up in the sky, which, by the way, are a lot more Caucasian-colored than they are black.”
I studied Drew’s angry features. Was he accusing Bea of making a racist remark? Or of hinting that he was the killer?
“I’m worried that you’re undergoing a bout of depression, Bea,” Audrey said. “When we start saying that everything is terrible, that truly makes everything terrible.”
“You’re making light of my sixth sense,” Bea said with one last rap of her cane on the concrete. It had made a dull thud for metal, and I noticed then that the bottom of the cane was a thick cork, almost like that of a wine bottle.
“Let’s go home,” Steve said to me quietly. “The Parkers clearly heard some wild, off-base story from Fitz. This isn’t the time to try to resolve it.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I’m going to give Linda Delgardio a call. Maybe Fitz’s brother told the police investigators why he’s acting like I’m the enemy.”
Aunt Bea struggled through a brief coughing fit, then said in a raspy voice, “I’m going to speak up for you to Fitz’s parents.” She shifted her attention to Audrey. “You’re willing to stay for a few minutes with me, aren’t you?”
“Certainly,” Audrey answered. “I’m not about to hold my tongue when some vicious rumor has all but pushed my Erin out the door.”
“That’s okay, Audrey,” I said. “I don’t need anyone to leap to my defense. Steve’s right. This isn’t the time to protest toward a grieving family. We should all just—”
As I spoke, I turned and spotted Michelle Dunning, which distracted me. She was standing alone on the grass, halfway between this side exit and the front door. She had been crying, and she’d removed her sunglasses in order to dry her eyes. Gingerly. Her cheek was swollen and red, and she had a black eye.
Everyone followed my gaze. Both Steve and Drew cursed and immediately strode toward her. Aunt Bea gasped then promptly growled, “I knew it! Mark’s abusing her! I’m going to get that bastard fired if it’s the last thing I do!”
I trotted after the men, regretting my decision to wear heels this morning. The heels were aerating the lawn with my every step. From the corner of my eye, I saw Audrey grab Aunt Bea’s arm, dissuading her from joining us.
“What happened, Michie?” Steve asked, reverting to a childhood nickname. “How did you get a black eye?”
She put her dark glasses back on. “It was just my typical clumsiness.” She gave a sheepish, forced smile. “I was having some insomnia last night. So I went trudging down the stairs, half asleep, wearing Mark’s slippers instead of my own. A slipper started to fall off. I tripped and banged my face into the banister.”
That was feasible. I had once tripped due to oversized slippers. But the timing was suspicious; her facial bruises appeared just after Fitz’s sexual relations with either Michelle or her mother had come into question.
“It’s Mark, isn’t it,” Steve snarled, more a statement than a question. “He did this to you.”
“No, Steve,” Michelle said firmly. “I’m telling the truth. I fell. That’s all. Mark was sound asleep the whole time.”
While she was speaking, the breeze blew her hair in her eyes. She stuffed the errant tress behind her ear. She was wearing three-quarter sleeves, pushed up to the elbow. Her left forearm was also covered with bruises.
“What about your arm?” I asked. “Did you hit several edges of steps simultaneously?”
“I…” She tugged at her sleeve to cover up her skin. It looked like someone had gripped her arm far too tightly. “They’re pressure bruises from my weight-lifting machines at the gym. I get them every time I start out on a new exercise.”
“I’m calling Mark,” Steve said, pulling his cellphone from his back pocket. “I want to have a chat with him.”
“Steve! Don’t!” Michelle looked to either side, clearly checking to see if other people were overhearing. “He’ll think I told you that he hit me. But he didn’t. I fell. Stay out of this. Please! You’ll only make things worse.”
“In other words, he is battering you!”
“No, he isn’t. We’re just not getting along well…arguing a lot. I don’t want Zoey to pick up on our stress. She’s always covering her ears now whenever we raise our voices the least little bit.” She scanned our faces. “I probably wouldn’t have slipped and fallen if we hadn’t been arguing last night, but he didn’t hit me.”
“Don’t go home,” Drew told her. “Come up to Crestview, and stay with Steve and me.”
“Oh, Drew,” Michelle said sadly. “That is never going to happen. Mark’s already jealous of you.”
“Then you can take the guest room at Steve and Erin’s house,” he quickly countered. “I’ll move out and stay at a hotel. The important thing is that you get away from Mark. You’ve got a right to live your life without being abused.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that. He’s got Zoey with him. I have to go home.”
“Fine. Get Zoey, and drive straight back here,” Steve told her. “I’ll wait right here for you, Michie.”
She covered her face and sho
ok her head. “No. I’m fine, Steve. You’re all jumping to the wrong conclusion. Mark is way too gruff with people, but he is not a wife beater. He has never raised his hand to me. It’s just that…he’s verbally abusive. And it’s getting to me.”
Michelle started heading to her car, Steve following. I lagged back, not sure what to think. If she was truly being beaten, she should indeed leave immediately. But, like Michelle, I’d bruised my forearm on weight machines at the gym, and I remembered she’d said she was doing a “brutal” workout routine when she’d first arrived at our wedding shower. Furthermore, if she needed to get away from Mark to protect herself, our house wasn’t the best option. It would be wiser to fund her moving into an undisclosed location.
“Just take a brief get-away, then,” Steve said. “And bring Zoey.”
She got into her car. “Stevie. I’ll come stay with you if I ever need to. For any reason. I promise.” She closed her door.
We watched her drive away. “Why is she covering for that beast?” Drew asked me.
“Maybe she—”
“She doesn’t want Steve to worry about her,” Aunt Bea said, now standing beside Audrey, a few feet behind us.
If she hadn’t interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe Michelle was telling the truth.
“She isn’t ready to admit the truth to herself,” Bea continued. “That’s a hard thing to do, and it’s so scary, it turns your backbone into jelly.” There was an angry, defiant expression on her face.
“You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you?” I asked.
Aunt Bea nodded. “I’ve been there myself. The best thing my ex ever did for me was to leave me and take up with a younger woman.” She released a sad chuckle. “Compared to being battered by your spouse, moving halfway across the country and starting my own international business was a breeze.”
I studied Bea’s features, feeling a deep admiration for the woman. Steve put his arm around me. I could feel the tension in his rigid stance. I knew he wanted to be with his sister right now, helping her move out, and insuring her safety—at least for the time being.
“Michelle’s situation is worse than mine,” Aunt Bea continued. “She’s got a toddler. And, this is a secret that I shouldn’t be divulging, but she’s got another baby on the way. I sure hope her fetus wasn’t injured last night.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. There was too much on the line now. Michelle needed to get out of there. But we couldn’t force her.
“If anything happens to any of the Sullivan girls, I’m partly to blame. I’m the one who brought Mark into business with me in the first place. I gave that monster his big head start.”
“He needed a head start, Aunt Bea,” Steve said. “That was the right thing to do for Michelle’s sake.” I could hear in his voice a reflection of my own new admiration.
“You need to stay away from Mark Dunning for the immediate future, Steve,” Bea said, shaking her cane at him. “If you go chasing after him when you’re this angry, you’re only going to make things worse for your sister. All that will come of it is that Mark will swear out a complaint against you with the police.”
“She’s probably right, sweetie,” I added. “This needs to come from Michelle. If she files a formal complaint against him, he’ll be arrested and locked up immediately. But if you go storming over there for something that Michelle has denied taking place, it’s going to be you who’ll wind up behind bars.”
“You have no proof that Mark even touched her,” Audrey said. “Michelle’s denying it.”
“Exactly,” Drew said.
“Okay, okay,” Steve said, holding up his hands. “I’ll go back to Crestview without saying a word to that bastard brother-in-law of mine.”
Drew, Steve, and I started walking toward our cars; Drew’s sports coupe was such a bright red, it was easy to spot. “Are you heading straight over to Parsley and Sage?” Steve asked Drew.
“No. I’ve still got business to take care of in Denver.”
“With the restaurant surplus store on Broadway?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” Drew said. “I’m also going to scout out the upscale restaurants downtown. See if I can steal some ideas. See you later.”
Steve raked his hand through his hair as we watched Drew drive off. “He’s up to something,” he told me.
“Like what? You don’t think he’d go over to confront Mark by himself, do you?”
“Maybe. But I hope not.”
“That might not be such a terrible thing,” I said, “as long as Drew keeps his cool. Unlike you, Drew doesn’t have to try to maintain relations with Mark and Michelle. Plus, it’s not as personal to him. Drew can be pretty intimidating, physically. He’ll probably be able to give Mark enough of a warning to make him think twice before he mistreats Michelle again.”
Steve snorted. “If only that were true. You’ve never seen how things turn out for Drew—the lone black in a lily-white community. He as much as pokes a finger at Mark, he’ll be under arrest for assault.”
“In that case, let’s not take any chances. Let’s call the Denver police, and say that your sister has a black eye that she says she got from a fall, but that we think could be spousal abuse. You could call Drew and warn him that the police could soon be on their way to the Dunning’s house.”
Steve grimaced but promptly called Drew. I could hear Drew’s “Yo, bro,” greeting even my ear was at least four feet from Steve’s phone.
“Hey, bro. Just don’t pull a fast one on me and go to Michelle and Mark’s house. Okay? Erin and I have decided to call in a complaint and send the police out there to question Mark.”
Drew said something in reply that made Steve chuckle a little despite his dour mood. After a couple of jocular exchanges, he hung up. “He says he doesn’t even know her address. He’s planning to visit with Jack Daniels while he chats up the restaurant staff at the most popular restaurants in Denver.”
“It’s not even eleven thirty in the morning.”
Steve laughed. “That’s precisely what he said you’d say when I told you that.”
“Because it’s a valid point,” I fired back, annoyed. “He shouldn’t be drinking whisky at this hour. Especially when he’ll be making an hour-long drive to get back to Crestview.”
“He won’t be driving drunk,” Steve muttered. He got into his car and opened the passenger door for me from the inside.
“Are you sure he won’t? He has a substance-abuse problem, Steve.”
“And my sister is married to a wife-abuser,” he snapped at me. “That takes priority. I can’t fix everybody at once.”
Chapter 17
“Didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to drive back with Audrey?” Steve asked as we drove away.
“Yes, but I want to be with you.”
“To keep an eye on me? So that I won’t drive off to inform my creep of a brother-in-law that I’ll beat the crap out of him if there’s ever a next time?”
“We’re on the same side, Steve,” I said gently. “Don’t try to turn this into an argument.”
“I’m not—” He paused, mid-shout, and took a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. I’m in a rancid mood. We’re talking about this big, cowardly sack of shit, punching my own sister in the face. I can’t sit back and let it continue.”
I held my tongue for a few seconds, reflecting on how chewed up inside Steve must feel. I grabbed my cell phone. “I’m going to call the police now.”
“Maybe we’d better wait.” He raked his hair back. “That might just inflame both Mark and Michelle. I don’t want to get them entrenched into being on the same side. With us as the enemy.”
“Okay. I see your point.” His face was fixed into a stony glare. “It’s possible that she’s telling the truth when she says she fell.”
“A one-in-a-thousand chance, maybe.”
“I agree that the odds are slim,” I replied gently. “Mark might merely be verbally abusive, like she says. You could maybe call a social wo
rker first and tell them everything Michelle said, and discuss your concerns…let them help you to evaluate the situation and decide what the next step is.”
“Yeah. That’s a good idea. I’ll do that once we’re back in Crestview, and I’m feeling more level-headed.”
“Good.” I cued up Linda’s number on my cell phone. “I’m going to call Linda Delgardio right now, though.”
“Why?”
“To ask if she has any idea why one of Fitz’s brothers leapt to the conclusion that I killed him.”
“Don’t say anything about Drew and Michelle yet,” he reiterated.
“I won’t.” I hesitated. “Aunt Bea gave Mark his start just a couple of years ago. She could pressure him by persuading his boss to put him on notice.”
“I don’t want to deal with Aunt Bea any more. For all we know, she could have poisoned Fitz for reasons of her own.”
“What possible motive would a seventy-something-year-old woman have to poison a thirty-something wedding planner?”
“Beats me. But she’s the only guest who knew Fitz and is capable of murder. Not counting my god-damned brother-in-law.”
And possibly your best man. I saw the anguish on Steve’s features and felt for him. There truly was no connection between Fitz and our other guests except through his sister’s wedding. If only the police could exonerate his immediate family members!
I remembered then that Steve’s mother hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him about herself and Fitz. My spirits sank a little lower. I really wanted to get this secret off my chest as soon as possible. “Your mother mentioned that she wanted to talk to you. She’s probably at the reception in the church hall. You could call her and talk with her now while we’re still in Denver…in case it’s important, and she needs to speak with you face-to-face. I can always take the bus back to Crestview.”
