by Sonia Parin
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to drive into town. I’d like to see if I can catch up with Laurie Meadows.”
***
“WHY WOULD HELEN Forbes confess to a crime so easily?” The police hadn’t actually found anything to link her to the crime. Not even a reasonable motive.
Jealousy. Revenge. Greed. “What other reasons did people use to justify killing someone?”
Power. Fear.
“Insanity.” Would Helen Forbes cover for someone?
Huffing out her frustration, she pulled over on the side of the road and called Joshua. “Have you looked into Marigold’s finances?”
“I think I’d have better luck gaining entry into Fort Knox,” he said. “Harriet Winthrop is enraged and accusing us of police brutality and employing intimidating tactics. She refuses to believe someone in her household could be guilty of a heinous crime.”
“I think Helen Forbes is covering up for someone.”
She heard Joshua push out a hard breath.
“Walk me through your thinking.”
Abby nibbled her bottom lip. “Helen Forbes spent all those years working for Marigold. Why would she suddenly decide to kill her? It doesn’t make sense. I think I prefer any one of Faith’s longshot ideas to this.”
“Are you about to suggest I hunt down an imaginary long lost daughter parading around as a boy?”
“Did Faith send you the message about the watered-down formaldehyde?”
She heard another long breath pushed out. “Yes. I’m looking into it.”
“Thank goodness for that. I thought you were about to say you had your confession and so the case had been closed.”
“Can I go now?” Joshua asked.
***
“I’M NOT CHECKING up on Joshua.” Abby pulled up outside the local funeral home. She’d considered going to the hospital first but had decided it would be more difficult to talk to someone in charge there than at the funeral home.
“So, the funeral home it is.” As she strode toward the front entrance, she couldn’t help forming opinions about the people working there. When she caught herself in the act of stereotyping them, she excused it by saying she’d often been referred to as the snoopy reporter.
The funeral home foyer looked like an old-fashioned hotel lobby decorated with ferns and the style of carpeting that had been in fashion several decades before. The wood paneled walls cast a somber look. There were no pictures on the walls. Abby supposed the owners didn’t see any point in trying to cheer visitors up.
She waited several minutes for someone to come out. When no one did, she decided to poke around. She entered a room and saw caskets on display in various colors.
“Can I help you?”
She turned and saw a young woman dressed in a dark gray suit, her brown hair brushed back from her face.
Abby introduced herself. “Is the manager available?”
“I’m in charge here today.”
So much for stereotypes. She looked far too fresh and wholesome to be in the funeral business. Abby hated to admit it, but she had expected someone gaunt and slightly withered. Definitely someone older…
She decided to ease into a conversation and somehow work her way toward asking about the chemicals used for embalming.
“Are you making enquiries for yourself or a loved one?” the woman asked.
Abby remembered to blink. She didn’t have a name tag, and she hadn’t introduced herself, but Abby didn’t need an introduction to know her name.
“Myself. I’d like to be prepared.” She shrugged. “Just in case. One never knows…” Feeling a rush of heat settling on her cheeks, she turned and pretended to inspect one of the caskets. “Is that a feather pillow or polyester? Personally, I’m partial to something organic.”
“That could be arranged.”
“I don’t know much about the process but I’ve heard say everyone gets embalmed.”
“It’s common practice.”
Abby closed her eyes and focused on the image Joyce had shown her. She couldn’t be mistaken.
Laurie Meadows.
“This might sound strange… Do you use organic products? I’m not sure I’d like to be pumped full of chemicals.” She turned slightly. Abby stilled and, in her mind, two images interposed.
She pictured Laurie Meadows looking older, her posture stiffer.
What were the chances?
Laurie stood with her hands clasped. As Abby turned to face her, she released her hands and they fell by her sides.
Their gazes met and held. She knew Abby had recognized her but did she also know Abby had made another connection?
Abby decided she needed to leave. Right now, she thought. Instead, Abby murmured, “You diluted the formaldehyde.” In the next second, she recognized her mistake.
Laurie Meadow’s lips pursed. And that’s when Abby knew for sure she’d made the right connection but she didn’t get the chance to confront her because Laurie Meadows lunged for her and used the momentum to shove Abby against the coffin…
***
“ABBY. ABBY, CAN YOU hear me?”
“Yes, you’re coming through loud and clear. Ouch.”
“Are you sure? How many fingers am I holding up?” Joshua asked.
“None. Please stop slapping my face. What is it with people wanting to slap my face.”
“Who slapped you?”
Abby groaned. “Faith. A while back… A few days ago. What happened?”
“I think you hit your head against the brass handle.”
“I remember now. Hey, she pushed me.” Abby rubbed her head. “Did she get away?”
“No. We were just pulling up when she burst out the front door. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?”
“Why are you asking me so many questions?” She tried to sit up. “You’re going to have to help me up.” As he did, she rubbed her hip. “I’m going to be black and blue. And then, I’m going to be yellow and green. Isn’t it strange how bruises change color?”
Joshua cupped her chin. “I’m going to take you to the hospital and have them check you over.”
“I’m fine.” She swooned. “Oh, how pretty. I can see little birds flying around me. I thought that only happened in cartoons.”
Epilogue
“I NEED TO WORK ON MY poker face. I didn’t recognize her at first. She looked slightly different from the photo Joyce sent me, but then everything fell into place. My mind made the connection. There I was, at the funeral parlor and… there she was.” Abby pressed her fingertips against the sore spot on her head. “I remember thinking I’d expected to be approached by someone older. I guess my mind played around with that idea and that’s when I noticed the similarities between Laurie Meadows and Helen Forbes. Something about the way she stood reminded me of Helen.” Abby turned to Joshua. “They’re related.”
He nodded.
“I’m guessing Laurie Meadows is a fake name and that’s why you couldn’t find any records of her.”
Joshua gave another small nod.
“What about Helen Forbes? Is that her real name?” Even as she asked the question, Abby looked up at the whiteboard. After she’d been given the all clear at the hospital, she’d returned to Willoughby Park and had spent an hour telling Faith everything that had happened. Abby wanted to spring to her feet but instead she pointed. “There.”
They all looked at the whiteboard.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” Faith said. “We can’t read your mind.”
“Put Laurie Meadows’ photo next to Marigold’s. Notice the similarities? It’s in the shape of the eyes. It’s hard to see because Marigold’s eyes are bright and joyful and Laurie’s are hard. You need to focus on the shape alone.”
They were all related.
Abby smiled at Faith. “Remember your far-fetched theory about a long-lost daughter? You only need to make a few changes to the story and you have the answer. We’ve been talking about it all al
ong. Marigold married into this wealthy family and she put her old life behind. But it caught up with her.”
“We don’t have a photo of Helen Forbes,” Faith said as she moved Laurie’s picture and pinned it next to Marigold’s.
“Jealousy and revenge. That’s my guess.” Abby turned to Wadsworth. “I should thank you. If not for your stiff neck, I might never have thought to connect Helen Forbes to the mattress.”
“You are welcome, Miss Maguire.”
Faith grinned. “You must be relieved, Wadsworth. You’re off the hook.”
“Until next time, Miss O’Keefe.”
Charles frowned. “Are you planning to do me in, Wadsworth?”
The butler lifted the edge of his lip and excused himself. Although, Abby noticed he didn’t go further than the entrance to the ballroom. Clearly, the butler wished to hear more.
“Are you ready to hear the rest?” Joshua asked.
“Only if you can make it sound as interesting as Abby’s theories,” Faith said.
Joshua shook his head. “I actually have to write a report about all this. It’s becoming harder to keep a straight face while I do it. Heaven help me if I ever have to use one of your theories when I take the stand.” Joshua cleared his throat. “Abby is right. There is a connection between Laurie Meadows and Marigold. There was some truth to the gossip. Marigold’s mother had another daughter, the product of a brief de facto relationship.”
Faith yelped. “Helen Forbes?”
“Yes. Mrs. Erikson put her up for adoption. Then she had another brief relationship and Marigold came along. When Marigold married, Helen appeared on the scene. She’d tracked her down and she blackmailed her into giving her a job. For many years, she’d been happy to shadow her half-sister.”
Faith’s eyes widened. “Helen and Marigold. Sisters. Who would have thought?”
Abby laughed. “Well… You did. Sort of…”
“Yes, but… I was only making up stories.”
Joshua continued, “Shortly before getting the job, Helen had a baby.”
Faith yelped again. “Laurie Meadows?”
“Yes. Helen put her up for adoption and settled in to take her position as Marigold’s assistant.”
Abby leaned back and closed her eyes to listen to the rest.
“Helen’s daughter grew up and tracked her down. Seeing her mother leading a life of servitude, she became embittered and enraged. Her mother had given her up for adoption, and all for what? So she could kowtow to a bunch of silver spoon fed wannabe aristocrats?” Joshua looked at Charles. “Sorry if that offends.”
“Not at all. I’ve heard worse.”
“Anyhow, she tapped into her mother’s deeply buried feelings of resentment. Marigold hadn’t been given up for adoption and, worse, she’d risen above her station in life. Also, Marigold had promised her half-sister she wouldn’t leave her behind, but she had. Helen had become nothing but her servant.” Joshua sat back and smiled.
“What’s that smile about?” Faith asked. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
“I’m keeping the best until last.” He turned to Abby and nudged her. “Motive.”
When Faith yelped again, Abby sat up.
“What? There’s more? But we already have jealousy and revenge.”
“Laurie Meadows spent quite some time poisoning her mother against Marigold.” Joshua shook his head. “She came undone during the interview. There’s always a breaking point. It’s not enough to commit a crime, the perpetrator reaches a point of bursting to tell someone, as if they have to justify their actions. Anyway, Laurie exploded. Apparently, she finally got through to Helen Forbes and convinced her Marigold deserved to be preserved alive in the life she’d chosen.”
“Yes, but what pushed Helen to agree?” Faith asked.
“She found out her half-sister, Marigold, had excluded her from her will. In life, she’d thrown her a few breadcrumbs, and in death, she’d planned on cutting her right off.” It seemed everyone had been hiding behind a mask…
“Ah, I see.” Faith nodded. “That’s where the deeply held resentment reared its ugly head.” Faith turned to Charles. “Who are your beneficiaries?”
Charles shifted. “After hearing this story, I think I might have to include everyone I know.” He looked over his shoulder at Wadsworth. “Rest assured, you stand to inherit.”
Faith frowned. “I think you’ve just provided Wadsworth with a motive.”
The doorbell rang. Moments later, Sebastian appeared. “What have I missed?”
“Everything,” Faith said. “We’ll have to start from the beginning.”
When Faith finished giving him the full rundown, Charles said, “All’s well that ends well.”
“Not quite.” Faith shifted to the edge of the couch. “There’s still the matter of Abby not getting an invitation to the Venetian ball.”
Charles looked at Abby. “She did get an invitation.”
“No, she didn’t. In fact, Abby had to gate-crash the event.”
Charles turned to Wadsworth. “You allowed someone without an invitation in?”
“Yes, my Lord. I thought it would be amusing to see what she did next. I don’t spend much time in town, but I’ve lived in the area long enough to know the locals enjoy creating their own entertainment.”
“So, did she or didn’t she get an invitation?” Faith demanded.
“She did. I delivered it personally.” Charles looked up at the ceiling. “At least, I think I did.” He turned to Wadsworth.
The butler nodded. “I distinctly remember you slipping the envelop into the inside pocket of your Houndstooth jacket. You then set off for the pub. When you returned, your assistant asked if she needed to do anything more about the invitation and you assured her it had all been taken care of and that she shouldn’t worry about it anymore.”
“Really? What an odd thing for me to say.”
“Yes, my Lord. We both thought so.”
“Well, I’m sure I gave Abby the invitation. I must have.”
Without anyone noticing, Wadsworth left the room and appeared moments later holding the Houndstooth jacket and the invitation. “At the risk of coming across as indiscreet… Perhaps not, my Lord.”
Faith nudged Abby. “See, I told you. Absentminded.”
“As I said, all’s well that ends well. This calls for some champagne, Wadsworth.”
*****
I hoped you enjoyed The Last Dance! If you did, please leave a review on Amazon.
Abby Maguire and Doyle will be back with book 6!
If you enjoyed reading this book, follow me on BookBub and never miss out on news about my next book or sign up to receive my newsletter here!
Books by Sonia Parin
A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery series
End of the Lane
Be Still My Heart
The Last Ride
The Last Stop
The Last Dance
A Deadline Cozy Mystery series
Sunny Side Up
Snuffed Out
All Tied Up
The Last Bite
Final Cut
Sleeping With the Fishes
A Kink in the Road
The Merry Widow
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery series
Witch Inheritance
Witch Indeed
Witch Cast
Witch Charm
Witch Trials
A Mackenzie Witch Collection: Witch Namaste, Good Witch Hunting & ‘Tis the Season to be Creepy
Witch in Exile
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Short
Witch Namaste (Novella)
Good Witch Hunting (Novella)
‘Tis the Season to be Creepy (Short)
Jingle Purrs (Short)
