Murder Is Our Mascot

by Tracy D. Comstock

  "Uh, I'm Emily Taylor, your son Stevie's English teacher? We had an appointment to meet the other day, but I had to cancel?" Emily realized all of her sentences were coming out as questions and mentally straightened her spine. She had dealt with rude and unhelpful parents before. She had this. Piece of cake.

  "Oh, yes, Ms. Taylor, I meant to call you to reschedule but assumed you would need some time to get back into the swing of things after what happened." Once again, Emily pulled the phone back to stare at it in bewilderment. Gone was the harsh, abrupt woman of moments before. In her place was a solicitous, helpful parent. Emily was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she plunged ahead.

  "We have had a hard day, but I'm even more concerned about Stevie, knowing he was close to Coach Layton. I sense that Stevie has the ability to do the work—he just lacks the motivation. Any chance we could reschedule that meeting for sooner rather than later? Is there a day next week that would work for you?"

  "How about tomorrow?" Arlene countered. "My Stevie is truly a brilliant child. I think if we put our heads together, we can figure out a way to motivate him, don't you?" Emily had yet to say a word, but Arlene continued. "Stevie is one in a million. I am truly blessed. I would do anything in my power to help him succeed."

  "Great!" Emily was thrilled to hear that Arlene was as concerned about Stevie as she was. "I would be happy to meet with you tomorrow before school."

  "I don't think we'll have to cancel for the same reason this time." Arlene tried to laugh, but it was a weak attempt at humor and they both knew it. Arlene tried to cover up her gaff by saying, "I look forward to meeting with you, Ms. Taylor. Stevie loves to read and is an exceptional writer."

  "I look forward to hearing more about that," Emily assured her. "Stevie's work and attention have been lackluster in both areas thus far."

  "This move has been hard on him. I think maybe—look, I hate to cut you short, but I need to get back to work. See you tomorrow." And with that, Arlene hung up.

  Emily was still staring at the phone in her hand like it was a foreign object when Tad sauntered in. "What'd that phone ever do to you?" he asked.

  Emily gazed up at him, confusion written all over her face. "I just had the strangest conversation with Arlene Davis. She went from rude to friendly, then when I suggested we meet next week, she wanted to meet tomorrow. We were discussing Stevie when she abruptly said she had to get back to work and hung up."

  "So what's so strange about that?" Tad asked, grabbing a soda from the fridge. He waggled one at Emily and she nodded. He joined her at the table, adding, "She was probably meeting clients and had to hang up when they arrived."

  It was a reasonable explanation, but Emily couldn't shake the feeling that Arlene Davis had sounded not only busy, but oddly harassed. Maybe she's high strung, she decided as the bell rang, and she and Tad headed back to their respective classrooms to finish up the longest school day in recorded history.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As the final bell of the day rang, Emily pushed and jostled her way out the door right along with the students. She tried to stay in the middle of the pack and walk on her tiptoes so that her heels wouldn't be heard. A few of the students gave her funny looks, but most were more concerned about getting out of school for the day. Emily was hoping for a clean getaway from Tad—she was not in the mood for another lecture. At the top of the back staircase, Emily saw Gabby's maroon minivan idling outside. Taking the stairs two at a time, she charged through the double doors like a running back about to score a goal. She didn't stop sprinting until she was safely in the vehicle, with the door shut and locked, for good measure. She was too busy checking over her shoulder to notice that Gabby was staring at her like she had two heads.

  Emily whipped around when she realized they weren't moving. "Go!" she shouted.

  Gabby put the minivan in gear but was careful to mind the posted speed limits, as the school resource officer, Deputy Carson, was keeping a sharp eye out. Emily strained against her seat belt as if willing them to move faster.

  "Who are you looking for?" Gabby finally asked. "You jumped in here like it was your getaway car. And since I know you didn't rob a bank, am I to assume that you have suddenly joined the cult of minivan lovers?"

  Emily shot her an oh, please look. She and Gabby had always laughed at minivan-driving soccer moms, but as soon as Gabby found out she and Greg were having twins, a minivan seemed to be the only way to go. Gabby had not gone willingly to the dark side at first, clinging to the two-door-sports-car life she had led up to that point. But now, with two car seats strapped in the back, Gabby had embraced the cult wholeheartedly, even down to the little vinyl stick-person family on the back window. Emily loved Gabby and the girls unconditionally, but a minivan? No way. No how.

  "For your information, I was trying to avoid having to talk to Tad again today. He thinks we're in over our heads and shouldn't be going out to Serenity Falls."

  "Well, tough toenails. We're going anyway." Emily smiled. This was the Gabby she knew, the one who wouldn't let anyone tell her what she could or couldn't do. "And I brought you a snack," Gabby continued.

  Emily took in the crushed Cheerios and leftover juice-filled sippy cups behind her and felt her stomach turn over.

  "Not back there, silly. Here." Gabby motioned to the console. One would have thought she'd been handed diamonds the way Emily squealed over the large soda with a red straw and the Snickers bar beside it.

  She had taken her first gooey bite of chocolate heaven when a thought occurred to her. "Are you bribing me so I'll run with you?" Emily narrowed her eyes at Gabby and took another defiant bite.

  "Is it working?" Gabby asked, batting her eyelashes.

  "No, and here is where we turn." Emily pointed out the tall stone columns that marked the entrance to Serenity Falls.

  Emily took in the massive stone and wood building as Gabby pulled into a parking spot reserved for visitors near the front doors. They both stared out the windshield, awed by the grandeur of the facility. Gabby let loose a low whistle and turned to Emily. "This place looks more like a fancy resort than a nursing home."

  Emily nodded in agreement. Even with a name like Serenity Falls, she had pictured a typical single-level, utilitarian-looking facility. In front of her, massive wood beams framed the three-story complex, floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting back the cloudy sky. Emily licked the last of the chocolate from her fingers and shot Gabby a grin. "Let's go check it out."

  Gabby practically bounced on her toes as she locked the minivan and fell into step beside her. "Our first mission," she whispered.

  Emily smothered a laugh as she pulled open one of the behemoth, carved wooden doors. The lobby they entered was as impressive as the outside suggested. The ceiling soared straight up three floors, skylights flooding the rich, dark wood floors with warmth and light, despite the lack of sunshine outside. A miniature waterfall provided a continuous murmur, inviting visitors to stop and rest in one of the cozy seating areas arranged throughout the large space.

  Gabby pulled her toward the highly polished wooden counter discreetly tucked in the opposite corner. Emily checked to make sure her jaw wasn't hanging open as they approached the receptionist, a shy-looking blonde with large, round glasses, who asked, "Welcome to Serenity Falls. How may I assist you today?"

  Emily checked the blonde's name tag and replied, "Hi, Shelley. We're friends of Helen Burning. As you may have heard on the news last night, it appears Helen is missing. I know she visited her mother here every day, so I was wondering if anyone had seen her recently."

  Shelley's hair fell over one eye as she shook her head. With an impatient gesture, she jerked a hair band off her wrist and twisted her hair back. "No," she told them as she worked on securing her ponytail. "I haven't seen her the last two days, and I've been working both afternoons. She always comes by after school and sometimes before school as well. I checked with Jan, the one who works mornings," she explained, "and she hasn't seen her either."
Shelley pushed her glasses up on her nose, looking worried. "Where is she?"

  Gabby reached over and patted her hand. "We're not sure. But we'll find her. I promise."

  Emily nodded gamely, but she didn't feel half the assurance Gabby displayed. "I take it this is unusual behavior for Helen?"

  "Absolutely!" Shelley was emphatic. "Mrs. Quinton is the most visited patient we have. Helen dotes on her mother. Yesterday was one of Mrs. Quinton's good days, and she kept coming up to ask when her daughter would be here. It broke my heart." Shelley tugged at a loose thread on her turquoise cardigan.

  "Would it be okay if we visited Mrs. Quinton?" Gabby asked.

  Shelley brightened at the suggestion but was quick to add, "Today has not been one of her better days. Still, I'm sure she'd appreciate the visit." Shelley directed them toward a hallway farther past the receptionist's counter. Mrs. Quinton had a room on the first floor, facing the back grounds. Emily and Gabby found her sitting in a comfortable armchair in front of a big picture window that overlooked a much larger version of the waterfall from the lobby. Its muted crash was a soothing sound. Gabby knocked gently on the open doorframe, and they were waved forward by an imperious-looking hand. As they entered, Emily saw that Mrs. Quinton was working on a complicated jigsaw puzzle of Big Ben. The elderly woman fit her piece in place and smiled triumphantly up at them. "Well, don't just stand there," she commanded them. "Pull up a couple of chairs." They did just that, taking in the separate bedroom and bath as well as the small electric fireplace glowing in the corner. Emily's mind boggled at what it must cost to live here—surely more than she could make in a year. As an only child, she hoped her parents didn't expect to end up somewhere like this if they needed assisted living. They'd have to settle for her tiny spare bedroom.

  Gabby chatted with Mrs. Quinton about her puzzle. Apparently, Mrs. Quinton had spent some time living in London when she was a newlywed. Emily tried not to be jealous, looking at where the dignified older woman was now. Mrs. Quinton reminded Emily of an old-fashioned schoolmarm. Her white hair was wound in a neat bun. A pair of half spectacles dangled from a chain around her neck, and she sat ramrod straight, both of her orthopedic shoes planted firmly on the carpet. Despite the warmth of the room, Mrs. Quinton had an afghan over her legs and a sweater thrown over her shoulders. Emily listened to Gabby engage the woman in further conversation, searching for a place to bring up the topic of Helen. Mrs. Quinton, however, took the matter into her own hands. Looking right at Emily, she said, "Helen, you've put on some weight. I thought you were taking up running."

  Gabby smothered a laugh with a cough. Emily struggled not to be insulted. She could see where Mrs. Quinton might confuse her with her daughter. They both had cropped, brunette hair and were short in stature. Emily had to grudgingly admit that Helen was skinnier than her due to the fact that she was, indeed, an avid runner. Helen also sported a pixie cut rather than Emily's longer bob and was more than twenty-some years older, but Emily decided it would be easier to go with it rather than try to correct Mrs. Quinton. She didn't want to confuse her further. "I'm sorry, Mother. Work has been piling up. I'll start running more soon."

  Mrs. Quinton gave a regal nod. "That would be best, Helen dear. Our health should be one of our most guarded treasures." Emily nodded mutely. She and Gabby exchanged a look and Emily knew they were both thinking what a fragile thing health really was. Mrs. Quinton had clearly taken good care of her physical body, but her mind had had other ideas. They watched her work on her jigsaw puzzle for a while. She seemed to have forgotten the girls were there. The fire at her back was making Emily feel drowsy. She was wondering if they should even bring up Helen or slip quietly out of the room, when Mrs. Quinton looked up at her again.

  "Oh, there you are, Helen. I was just asking that sweet receptionist when you were going to get here. Did you get the money?"

  Emily and Gabby both scooted forward in their seats, excitement vibrating between them. Maybe they would find out something about Helen's whereabouts after all. "What money, Mother?" Emily asked quietly.

  Mrs. Quinton started to answer and then stared at Emily blankly. Her eyes went from sharp and inquisitive to cloudy and unfocused. She reached over to grasp Emily's hand. Emily gripped her cool, gnarled hand. "I'm sorry, dear," the older woman looked at her with a confusion that broke Emily's heart. "Who did you say you were again?"

  Emily answered gently, "We're friends of your daughter, Helen."

  "Helen? I had a daughter named Helen. She was such a good daughter, always taking care of me." And with that, Mrs. Quinton went back to her puzzle. Emily locked eyes with Gabby, wondering if they should question her further or leave quietly. Gabby shook her head and motioned to the door.

  Emily hesitated. She hated to leave Mrs. Quinton alone. Sure, she was in a wonderful facility, but if they didn't locate Helen, what would happen to her? Emily stooped to kiss her wrinkled cheek. Mrs. Quinton looked up at her with eyes that no longer viewed reality. She patted Emily's hand. "You're a good girl, Helen," she said softly.

  Emily and Gabby were both silent as they left Serenity Falls. Shelley hailed them on their way out and asked if Mrs. Quinton was having a good day. Gabby told her that Mrs. Quinton had thought Emily was her daughter and asked Shelley to please contact them if anyone at the facility heard from Helen. Shelley promised to let them know, taking down their names and numbers.

  Back in the minivan, Emily stared at the leaden sky, which looked as heavy as her heart felt. Gabby started the ignition and said, "Well, that was certainly—"

  "Depressing," Emily finished for her.

  "Actually, I was going to say enlightening," Gabby corrected her. Emily slurped her soda, which was now watered down, and stared at Gabby.

  "How so?" she asked.

  "The money!" Gabby's eyes were shining with excitement, but Emily was not on the same wavelength.

  "The money? Oh, you mean when Mrs. Quinton asked Helen—I mean, me as Helen—about whether she had gotten the money?"

  "Of course." Gabby nodded, turning on the wipers, as the first raindrops began to splatter her windshield. "It makes perfect sense."

  Emily chewed on her straw, trying to puzzle out what Gabby was seeing that she wasn't. "I assumed her comments were part of the ramblings of a deteriorating mind. I take it you didn't?"

  "No, not at all. Did you see that place? It has to be costing Helen a fortune to keep her mom there. Where is she getting that kind of money? Not from being a counselor at the local high school, unless you guys have suddenly gotten astronomical raises." She quirked an eyebrow Emily's way. Emily merely snorted. "That's what I thought. So Helen had to be getting the money from somewhere. She disappeared the same evening Jim Layton was killed. What if Helen was blackmailing Jim? Maybe she threatened to turn him over if he didn't pay up, and when he still refused, she snapped and killed him." Gabby looked quite smug about her deductive reasoning capabilities.

  Emily almost hated to burst her bubble as she said, "But that doesn't make sense. If Helen was blackmailing Jim, she wouldn't kill off her money source. It would be more likely that Jim would hurt Helen to get her off his back. And for that matter, what could Helen possibly have on Jim anyway?"

  Gabby pouted. "You're right. I guess it doesn't make sense after all."

  Emily reached over to hug her as they pulled back into the school parking lot. "I think you're right about the money being important, though."

  "You do?" Gabby looked hopeful again.

  Emily nodded, climbing out of the minivan into the drizzling rain. "Want to do some checking and see how much it would cost to house someone at Serenity Falls?"

  "Absolutely! I'll call you tomorrow. Right now I have to go get the twins before they tie Greg's mom into a pretzel." But Gabby waited until Emily was safely in her own car before pulling out of the now-empty lot. Gabby turned one way. Emily went the other.

  * * *

  There was no one waiting for Emily at home. Helen and Duke weren't even next doo
r. Her mind was spinning with ideas of money and blackmail and murder, all of which still seemed surreal. Not ready to be alone with her thoughts, Emily changed course and swung by her parents' house instead.

  Parking in front of the large, pale-yellow Victorian home in which she'd been raised, Emily felt a glow of pride. She'd loved growing up in this big, old, creaky house that always needed something fixed. Even as a child, Emily had stared at her walls at night, painted a periwinkle blue back then, and wondered what stories this house could tell. Smiling to herself, knowing she had never let go of that childhood notion, she let herself in the back kitchen door. Something burbled on the stove. Pausing, she took a long sniff. Yum…Dad's chili. Maybe she could wrangle an invitation to dinner. Taking the two steps down into the family room, Emily saw her mother seated in her favorite rocking chair. Her head was bent over her work, the floor lamp behind her casting her in a pool of light. So intent was she on her clacking knitting needles that she didn't even notice Emily until she plopped down on the couch across from her. Glancing up, her mom dropped her knitting and pressed a hand to her heart.

  "Em! You scared me."

  "Sorry, Mom. I assumed you heard me come in the kitchen door." Emily was surprised at her mom's reaction. She had never known her mom to be scared of anything. Just went to show how murder in a small town like theirs could put everyone on edge.

  "Have you heard anything from Helen?"

  "No, but I was hoping maybe you had." Emily hated to see her mom hurting like this, but she had to ask her some tough questions.

  Emily scooted forward on the couch, looking her mom in the eye. "I have to ask you something that might upset you. Gabby and I went out to Serenity Falls today to see if we could find out anything about Helen." Her mom's eyes glowed with hope. But as Emily continued, that glow faded. "Helen has not been seen there for the past two days, which is obviously out of character. We visited with Mrs. Quinton and, in what appeared to be a fairly lucid moment, she asked me if I had the money."