Silenced in Sequins

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Good morning, Mrs. Mueller. How are you today?” Kelly held the door open so the elderly woman could enter.

  Mrs. Mueller was a spry senior with a keen eye and vivid imagination. “Kelly, dear, so good to see you. I’m doing well. Though, with this snow and cold weather, I don’t get out much. But today is book club, and we’re having pot roast for lunch.” She patted the hardcover book in her hand.

  “Sounds like you’ll have a lovely day.”

  “Why are you here? You’re far too young to be hanging around here.” Mrs. Mueller stepped farther inside and unbuttoned her coat.

  “I was asking about a trip my granny took to Vegas a few years ago.”

  “I heard it was a wild one.” She gestured for Kelly to lean in. “I heard from Louise two people got hitched. They took off on their own and went to one of those ridiculous wedding chapels. You know, the type with fake Elvis Presleys. They acted like impetuous teenagers. Eloping at their age. Utter nonsense. Or hopelessly romantic.”

  Kelly gulped. Was Mrs. Mueller talking about her granny and Marvin?

  “Do you know who those two people were?”

  Mrs. Mueller shook her head. “Louise kept it a secret. Took it to her grave. May she rest in peace. Well, I see Cora waiting for me. I better get over there. You take care, dear.” She patted Kelly’s arm before she walked away.

  Kelly’s gaze followed Mrs. Mueller cross the large space and then stopped at Mrs. O’Neal’s desk. She was devouring one of the cupcakes.

  At least she had an appetite. Kelly’s stomach was all knotted up now that her fear had been confirmed. Granny and Marvin were sweet on each other. There had been a trip to Vegas, and a couple had married. Now the next thing she had to do was introduce herself to Marvin Childers, her step-grandfather.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kelly stopped at a stop sign. She waited for the town plow truck to go through the intersection. They’d arrived at the same time, but she yielded for two reasons. One, she was grateful the plows had been out clearing the roads; her driving skills were rusty, thanks to taking subways and Uber in the city for too many years. Two, the plow truck was a lot bigger than her vehicle.

  The few moments she waited allowed her time to reflect on her visit to the Senior Center. Apparently, her granny had married an old man who’d wanted to visit an adult-only establishment. She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of her granny marrying a dirty old man. Honking from behind snapped her out of the icky visual, and she proceeded through the intersection, on to meet her step-grandpa.

  She turned off of Glendale Road onto the gravel driveway of Marvin Childers’s shingled cottage. There wasn’t much space. Someone had cleared enough width for only one vehicle. Observing the messiness, Kelly got the impression someone had shoveled rather than plowed. Had Marvin cleared the snow himself? At his age, shoveling could be dangerous—heart attacks, injuries, hypothermia, the list was extensive.

  She parked behind the beat-up old station wagon and climbed out of her Jeep. She heard barking and looked around but didn’t see the dog until her gaze landed on the covered porch, and there he was. Scruffy, white, and loud. The short path to the porch was barely shoveled but manageable, thanks to the sturdy tread on her boots.

  Marvin might have lived on the same road Diana had, but their worlds were miles apart. She had lived in a big, beautiful new home, while he lived in a small, timeworn cottage. Kelly’s best guess was he’d been a holdout interested in blocking development. The closer she got to the house, the louder the dog got. The front door swung open, and a man appeared, and all Kelly’s thoughts about real estate vanished.

  “Don’t mind Sparky. He’s all bark.”

  “Sparky? Cute name.”

  Marvin nodded. “While I appreciate a visit from a pretty young woman, I’m afraid I’m not buying anything today.” He smiled and then took a drink from the mug he held. His shoulders were hunched, and he’d probably lost a few inches in the past few years. His white hair was thin and his matching eyebrows bushy. Over a plaid shirt and tan pants, he wore a gray, shawl-collared cardigan. His sneakers were scuffed and smudged with dirt.

  “I’m not here to sell anything. My name is Kelly Quinn. I’m Martha Blake’s granddaughter.”

  Marvin stared at Kelly a long moment, and then recognition flicked in his pale blue eyes, and he gave a knowing nod. “You’re the one who went to the city. Your sister stayed here on the island. A doctor, right?”

  “Lawyer. Caroline is a lawyer.”

  He shrugged. “I was close. Either way, she was left with a lot of school loans, right? Your grandmother and I were good friends. Come on in. I’m freezing my snowballs off out here.”

  Kelly held back a laugh. She wasn’t there for a social visit. She was there to find out if her inheritance was about to be ripped away from her.

  Snowballs. Her granny would have had a good laugh at that line, though.

  Marvin whistled and got the attention of his dog, who turned around and bounded back inside. Kelly followed into the two-story, cedar-shake cottage. The first floor was open concept; the kitchen, eating, and living areas were all connected. The dog trotted over to the sofa and leaped up. He rested his head on a pillow and closed his eyes while Kelly scanned the walls. She didn’t know where to look first. Every inch of wall was covered with framed artwork. It was chaotic, overwhelming, yet beautiful. Off the kitchen, an art studio was set up.

  A large wooden table, with an easel set in the center, was pressed up against a bank of windows. The view was of the open land that surrounded the cottage. The tabletop was cluttered with jars of paintbrushes, pens, and pencils, stacks of sketchbooks, tubes of paints, discarded rags, and paint palettes. A flat file cabinet stood where she expected a hutch would be situated, and two carts filled with more painting supplies were left standing in the middle of the room.

  “I usually don’t get much company these days.” Marvin shuffled to the kitchen counter and took a mug off the drain board. “You’re in luck. I just brewed a fresh pot.”

  Kelly wasn’t sure how lucky she was, but she accepted the mug and dropped in a splash of milk from the carton Marvin had set out from the refrigerator. She took a drink and revisited her game plan. What was her ideal outcome from this meeting? Learning that the marriage certificate she found was a fake.

  Marvin sipped his coffee. “Your grandmother always talked about you and your sister. She was proud of both of you.”

  Kelly swallowed down her sadness. A ball of sorrow landed hard in her stomach at another reminder of how much granny had loved her. Her granny was the one person in her life who had been supportive, even when Kelly didn’t deserve support. She always believed in Kelly and pushed her to find what made her happy, even if it didn’t meet the expectations of her parents or older sister.

  “You knew my grandmother a long time?” With her mug in hand, she drifted over to the art studio.

  “Decades. Your grandfather and I used to golf together.”

  “You and Grandpa were friends?”

  “Until tee time. I always beat him. Back in the day, I had a heck of a swing.” Marvin rushed to the table and tidied up. “Excuse the mess.” He set the neatly ordered sketchbooks to the side of the table and returned the pens to their glass jar, then set his focus on Kelly. “I’m an old man, so I tend to be direct these days. You came here today for a reason. What’s the reason, Kelly?

  “I found a marriage certificate from Las Vegas.”

  “Las Vegas? Sin City.” He let out a low whistle. “I went there for my bachelor party. What a weekend.”

  “You also went five years ago with the Senior Center. Do you remember?”

  Marvin blinked, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Senior Center? I haven’t been there in years.” He looked out the window and drank his coffee. “Wait . . . yes . . . we went on a trip to Las Vegas. Forgive my memory. Some
times it’s a little slow to recall events.” He offered a weak smile. “Martha and I found a cheesy wedding chapel when we were casino hopping. It sounded like a fun idea.”

  “Eloping? You both thought it was a fun idea?” Now Kelly understood where she got her streak of spontaneity from. No wonder her granny always understood her.

  “Yes, we did, young lady.” Marvin chuckled as he wagged a finger at Kelly. “Martha looked so beautiful that day. I don’t know any man who would’ve said no to her.”

  “You mean she proposed?” Kelly was peeling back a whole new layer of her granny. What else didn’t she know about the woman who baked the best gingersnaps and made the best lemonade?

  Marvin placed his bony hands on his hips. “Surprised me, for sure. But I was on board. It’s not every day a man gets a second chance with an amazing woman. I miss my Trudy every day, but saying ‘I do’ to Martha helped me get past all the pain and hurt. I think it did her a world of good too.”

  “Getting over Grandpa’s death?”

  “Yeah, that too. I mean, having a man find her attractive.”

  Oh, boy. Oh, no. Kelly had no choice but to listen to details of the wedding ceremony so she’d know what she was up against when it came to her granny’s estate, but listening to details about the wedding night? No. Nope. Not going to happen.

  “My nickname for her was ‘Hot Stuff.’” Marvin grinned at the memory. It seemed like he had no problem recalling that particular memory.

  The pit of sadness in her belly from earlier had morphed into a glob of nausea. Maybe Mrs. O’Neal should have let him go to that adults-only ranch in Carson City and then he wouldn’t have married her grandmother.

  “Are you feeling all right, Kelly? You look deathly pale.” Marvin set his mug on the table and reached out for Kelly.

  She shoved her mug into his open hands and recoiled back. “I’m fine. Thank you for speaking with me. I should go.” She spun around so fast it dizzied her, but she stayed upright and darted for the front door.

  Stepping over the threshold, Marvin caught up with her. “Don’t leave like this. You’re upset.” He followed after her down the porch steps.

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry I intruded.” Kelly continued down the steps until she landed on the walkway.

  “No worries. You’re always welcome here. Just make sure you don’t speed.”

  Kelly looked over her shoulder. What was he talking about? “Speed? On this road?”

  “This isn’t a road you want to be driving fast on. Over the years, there’ve been a few accidents. Bad ones. Can’t believe that Rolls-Royce didn’t crash the other night.”

  Kelly turned around to face Marvin. “What Rolls-Royce? When?”

  “The night the lady up the road was found dead.” He pointed in the direction of Diana’s house. “You heard about her?”

  “Yes, I did. The night she was murdered a Rolls-Royce sped by your house? What time? Did you see the driver?”

  “Nah. I was out with Sparky when the car sped by. It was real late. I’d dozed off watching the ten o’clock news. Gosh, I’m sorry I can’t say exactly when Sparky woke me. I should have gotten the license plate number. Next time I will.”

  Kelly looked over her shoulder at the dirt road. Marvin might have seen the killer drive by. She turned around to face him. “You should let the police know if you see the car again. It could be important. Thank you for the coffee.” She made her way along the snowy path back to her Jeep. She had a lot to think about. Correction. She had a lot to worry about. Just when she thought she could enjoy her first Christmas back in Lucky Cove, she was dealt a devastating blow. Everything she’d been working for was about to be yanked away from her.

  Kelly traveled down the road with a heavy weight of doom and gloom pressing on her shoulders. The tension radiated up her neck. In a matter of minutes, the mother of all headaches would spread across her forehead. Exactly what she didn’t need.

  She reached an intersection and hesitated before flicking on her left blinker. Turning right would lead her back to the boutique. She grumbled at her spur-of-the-moment decision to go left. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t fight the draw to the last place she wanted to visit. Thirty minutes later, she’d arrived at the destination.

  There weren’t any words to describe the compulsion pumping through her as she pushed open the door of her Jeep and stepped out. The need to spend a few minutes alone with her granny overwhelmed her and scared her. She feared losing control and allowing a dam of pent-up insecurity and worry to burst. There was too much at stake for her not to be thinking clearly.

  A cold wind struck her, and a chill snaked through her body, though the chill wasn’t from the icy air. It was from all the death surrounding her.

  She cast a wide glance over the top of her Jeep to what seemed to be endless rows of headstones and heaved a sigh as she buried her gloved hands deeper into her coat pockets. Undisturbed snow covered the graves and headstones. The haunting image laid out before her was part eerie and part beautiful.

  The flat stretch of open land offered no barrier to the whipping wind that had borne down on the island. The road that cut through the cemetery had been cleared, but the staff hadn’t shoveled out any walking paths. She trudged through the snow and arrived at the spot where her granny had been put to eternal rest.

  Kelly pulled a hand out of her pocket, bent forward, and brushed off the snow on her granny’s headstone. A strand of her hair escaped from the loose ponytail she’d gathered up after she left the boutique.

  Martha Blake. Beloved wife, mother, and grandmother

  The words etched in stone were forever imprinted on Kelly’s heart. She’d never known such a selfless person. One day she would make her granny proud.

  One day. I promise.

  Tears welled in Kelly’s eyes as she worked her lower lip. She had so many questions for her granny.

  She slipped her hand back into her pocket and fingered the ring she believed Marvin had given Martha on their wedding day. She’d slipped the ring into her coat pocket at the last minute before leaving the boutique. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to have it with her.

  She stepped back from the stone. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you remarried? What were you thinking? A Vegas wedding, really? Granny, what am I supposed to do now?”

  Kelly waited for answers. None came. Only tears.

  “Pepper wanted me to decorate the store like you used to. I did a little decorating. It’s not the same without you. Without your gingersnap cookies. They’re the best cookies.” Kelly sniffled, wiped away the tears, and stared at the headstone.

  The cold and stillness of the cemetery transported Kelly back to the winter after Ariel’s accident all those years ago. Absorbed in guilt and self-loathing for abandoning Ariel for a silly boy who turned out to be a bad kisser, Kelly often found solace in the quietest place she knew, the cemetery. Back then she’d huddle beneath the big oak tree not too far from where Granny was now, and she’d let her mind wander and negotiated deals with God in hopes of Ariel regaining her ability to walk. She’d learned deals wouldn’t undo the damage that was done in the accident. Today she didn’t feel the peace she’d sought all those years ago. The stillness that hovered wasn’t comforting. Instead, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her body tingled; her nerve endings sent out an alert.

  Her gaze darted across the openness, seeking the person who was watching her.

  She shook her head and silently admonished herself for being dramatic. There wasn’t anyone around. It was only her and the dearly departed.

  She tucked the strand of hair that fell along her check back behind her ear.

  “How well did you know Marvin? Do you think he’ll take the boutique away from me? I think my changes will help the business thrive. I’m trying to make you proud.” She wiped her face with the sleeve of her coat. She didn’
t want to cry. She wanted to be strong. Strong enough to handle whatever would go down with Marvin. The past few months of being fired and taking over the boutique had made her tougher, more formidable. Was that the reason Granny had left the business to her? To fortify her resolve, her self-confidence?

  Another chill skittered down her spine. She scanned the landscape again. Someone was watching her. She was sure of it.

  “I guess I’ll have to figure this out on my own. I love you, Granny.” Kelly said a silent prayer before turning and walking back toward her vehicle. She tried to follow the footprints she’d made in the snow as she approached the grave. She pulled out her cell phone from her pocket and dialed Frankie.

  “What’s up?” He sounded out of breath.

  She figured she’d caught him during his workout. “Do you have Granny’s recipe for her gingersnaps?”

  “I do. I’ll be baking them for Christmas Eve. Why?” A loud crash in the background was followed by a chorus of curse words.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m helping a friend. He’s short a cook. I figured I’d pick up some extra cash.” During the off season, Frankie worked as a personal chef and usually booked a couple clients each week. From time to time, he worked for friends whose restaurants were open year-round.

  “I won’t keep you. Could you e-mail me the recipe? I want to bake them.”

  “You?” he asked with a heavy dose of skepticism.

  “Yes, me. How hard can it be?” When she reached her vehicle and made her way around to the driver’s seat, she noticed a piece of paper slipped beneath the windshield wiper. “Some flour, sugar, eggs, and other stuff. Whip up in a bowl and bake. Easy.”

  “Not exactly.”

  She rolled her eyes. Leave it to a chef to think everyone needed a culinary degree to bake something. It couldn’t be hard to bake a few cookies. She reached for the paper and pulled it out, then unfolded the note.