Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories

by Sheila Hudson

  “Elvira. By chance do you know any of the patients on the west wing?”

  “You mean the Alzheimer’s wing?”

  “Yes. Exactly. I was wondering if they ever gave a tour of the wing if someone was interested in placing a family member,” I said as sincerely as I could muster.

  “Hmmm. I don’t know. The last person I saw admitted was a man but I don’t know his name. I think he came from out of state. He had his daughter with him and she wore some kind of uniform. It’s hard to remember,” Elvira said. “Why would you want to know that?” she continued.

  “Oh I thought I saw someone that I knew visiting a patient, but I must have been mistaken. It’s not important,” I backpedaled.

  “Girls I’ve got to go now and run errands. See you next week and I hope to bring Hattie with me.” I waved to my new friend, Matilda, as I left the building. As soon as I got into my PT Cruiser I texted Clara the name of Chief Browning’s ‘friend’ and asked her to dig into both of their pasts. As soon as Clara got any information, I intended to call a meeting of the Thursday Club and compare notes.

  ~17~

  Clara was so excited she could barely contain herself. I made her wait until I called the meeting of the Thursday Club to order. Pauline’s niece, Connie, came around with menus. We ordered and only then would I allow Clara to unveil her findings.

  “Chief Browning aka Susan Browning is really Susan Cantrell. Her father was sheriff in an adjoining county back in the day. Susan took her mother’s maiden name when entered the police academy,” Clara read out of her notebook.

  “Why did she do that?” Amy asked. “If her father was law enforcement wouldn’t that give her a leg up?”

  “Not if her father was a dirty cop,” Clara corrected.

  “Well that’s a wrinkle,” Suzy commented. “Is this leading up to the present when she takes over as police chief in our county?”

  “Yes it is. I was visiting Golden Palms and saw her sign in and go into the Alzheimer’s wing. I uh convinced the receptionist to take a break and found out that she was visiting a John Cantrell. That’s when I asked for Clara’s help,” I explained.

  Connie brought our beverages so we put our conversation on pause. I unfolded a napkin and placed it on my lap. As usual the rest of the ladies were more dressed up than I but I had quite gotten used to that. Hattie wore a Dior pants suit with a coordinating scarf and her head piece was a glittery band with a bit of net.

  “Your food will be out directly,” Connie said when she had placed our glasses and cups. She had then returned with a small tray of lemons, sweetener, cream, and sugar.

  “Thank you, Connie,” I said. I put sweetener in my tea and saw anxious faces who wanted more answers than I had.

  “Okay so here’s what I found out from Matilda. John Cantrell only recently checked into Golden Palms. He never leaves his room. The doctor who sees him comes from Alabama once a week. Susan – that is Chief Browning – visits 3 times a week and sometimes brings special food. Not much I assure you but if her dad was in on the sex trafficking that went on at the manor, is she here to clear his name? If she wanted to hide him, why bring him back to the ‘scene of the crime’?”

  There was an overarching silence with only munching of salad and crunching of sandwiches. Everyone seemed to be absorbed in thought.

  Why did Browning change her name? Why did she apply for this job? Why did she bring her father back to where the sex trafficking took place especially if he had a hand in it?

  Finally Clara broke the silence, “I’m going to see if I can get to the records that were sealed. I know a lawyer who might just be able to work a little legal magic for us. If so, those may give us some answers to our questions.”

  Amy and Suzy nodded. Their mouths were too full to say anything. Hattie however looked as if she would burst.

  “If this Cantrell fellow is alert at all, why don’t we try to ask him some questions? I know the routine at Golden Palms as well as anyone. While the administrator does rounds and the therapists are organizing their day, we can slip past your buddy, Matilda, and get into the west wing. Mornings are best for these types. They don’t call dementia ‘sundowners’ for nothing,” Hattie said with confidence.

  “Okay it’s worth a try. Clara, you go do your digging in the legal stuff while the rest of us work on a plan to divert Matilda and slip into the forbidden zone,” I said with a laugh. I suddenly felt my appetite come back and a glow that we were working together again even if the subject was a morbid one.

  I passed on dessert. My jeans were stretched to capacity and I made a vow to diet and/or exercise as soon as we solved this case. The blonde, petite sisters who never gained an ounce ate Boston crème pie right in front of me without a touch of remorse. Hattie passed on dessert as well. We drank decaf coffee instead. Clara couldn’t wait to pursue her mission so she took her strawberry pie to go.

  I waved goodbye as Scarlett pulled out of the parking lot. Today had been a good day. Decisions had been made and I felt like the ‘band was back together again.’ I was elated by the day the club had had. Then Tom called.

  ~18~

  “We’ve gotten the DNA tests back from the lab. Howard and I are going over them together at the house. Can you come?” Tom’s voice sounded a little frantic.

  “On my way,” I said and turned the faithful PT toward the parsonage. I couldn’t wait to share the news that the Chief was really Susan Cantrell and her father was a resident at Golden Palms.

  When I arrived, Howard and Tom had papers spread all over the dining room table with several stacks on unoccupied chairs. I removed a stack and joined them.

  “Okay I’m here,” I said and tousled my hair. “What’s up gentlemen?”

  Howard handed me the report they were poring over. At the top it was stated that this was the analysis of the blood stain found on one of the more recent victims – by recent I meant less than forty years under the ground. I scanned down through the medical jargon until I reached a spot that made me gasp. It stated that the indicators were of the genetic family of Cantrell. In other words, Chief Browning’s family. I read it over a few times until I got hold of it. When I looked up, both Tom and Howard were watching my reaction. I explained the connection.

  “So what do we do? Arrest the Chief for withholding information?” Tom asked.

  “I’m not sure but the police had this information before we did. Which begs the question, do they know that Chief Susan Browning is indeed Susan Cantrell? And if so, are they on their way to arrest her now?” Howard stated what we were all thinking.

  “Her father, John Cantrell, is in Golden Palms and that’s a secret only a few of us knew. Clara is digging to see if he was involved with this sex trafficking thing, the murders, or just was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I responded. “But in any case this will have to be brought into the light before we can solve all the mysteries at hand.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Tom said. “So I called the Chief. She should be here any time. Why don’t you make a pot of coffee and we will gather what we need to present. Maybe we need another witness, what do you think Howard?”

  “The Chief has had plenty of chances to skirt this issue if she choice. I think she’s on a quest to find the truth. If I’m wrong, she probably won’t even show up today,” Howard said with conviction.

  Tom and I agreed and we set about getting ready for the Chief’s visit. I telephoned Clara to see how her research was going. She also had some information to share so I asked her to wait until after this first meeting to see if the pieces fit.

  The Chief arrived promptly. She was in uniform to alert us that she was on duty.

  “Chief, may I call you Susan?” Howard began.

  She nodded. I poured coffee all around. Tom and I allowed Howard to take the floor. It seems he was the most affected. Susan, rather the Chief, looked at all the evidence that Tom and Howard had collected. I noticed her flinch at the name Cantrell. When they finished their prese
ntation of the facts, she seemed unmoved.

  “Yes, you are correct in everything you said. My father, John Cantrell, was a part of this madness. But he swears that he only did the transporting of the girls to the Manor. No one knew about the murders of course until your investigation.

  “That didn’t sway the authorities back in the day and he spent time in prison for his part in the crimes. The actual criminals were never caught. They sold the manor through a bogus company and supposedly went to a country where they couldn’t be extradited. My father tried to do the right thing and for that he was punished. He only got out of prison early because he is suffering from dementia. I’ve been trying to clear his name since I got the position here, but I’ve run into dead ends. I can’t explain how his blood was found on a victim’s clothing unless the murderers slashed him when he tried to interfere with their cruelty to the others. We can ask Dad but I doubt he will remember anything of use.”

  “But why did you keep this a secret when we found the bodies?” Tom asked.

  “I had come here as Chief Browning (my mother’s maiden name) so to change my identity at this point seemed suspicious. I was going to reveal myself if I discovered anything to clear my father. When you found the bodies, it just grew complicated.”

  “Do you think your father knew any of the victims?” I asked.

  “Again, I was young at the time and had no idea all of this was going on. My parents were living separately. I would venture a guess that this operation was so lucrative that my father was too weak to turn it down,” she sighed and took a sip of coffee.

  “I’ve called Sheriff Jackson to take over this investigation,” Howard said. “He can decide if you need to be relieved of your duties. I also requested an interview with your father at Golden Palms by a professional. Maybe a person skilled in handling dementia can sort out your dad’s memories. Sometimes past memories are more vivid that current ones. Anyway that’s out of our hands for now.”

  Susan slumped in her chair and rested her head on her hand. “Truthfully, I am relieved you found out. I’ve been visiting Dad on the sly. I’ve told so many lies that I hate myself. I will be glad to get to the bottom of this mystery and put it to rest. Finally the victims’ families can rest in peace that at least they have a body to bury instead of wondering what happened to their loved one.”

  “I share that sentiment as well. The police department is making an effort to contact any family members so that we can have a proper service and internment. The Manor has been sold to the community as a haven for those who are victims of crimes such as sex trafficking. The Director of Human Resources has plans to shelter battered woman and children as well as those who were brought here to sell or for prostitution. Our community is determined to root out those who would impose the horrors of sex trafficking, poison moonshine, and other atrocities,” Howard said as Callie entered with a tall man wearing a badge, presumably the Sheriff.

  The Sheriff and the Chief exchanged a few words and they left together. I went to telephone the girls for a quickie Thursday Club meeting – not sure but I think that’s an oxymoron.

  ~19~

  When Howard gathered the police files and left, I approached Tom about the letter we had received from our denominational headquarters. “Did you say anything. . . you know about the letter?” I asked.

  “No it didn’t seem like the appropriate time,” Tom responded. “I thought I’d wait until this situation wrapped up.”

  “Good idea. I don’t want to move. How can I face moving somewhere else and starting over? This community has been my life,” I complained. “Is there any way we can stall for a couple more years?”

  “Afraid not. We knew this was only temporary when we came. My mission was to get First Church on its feet financially and to increase their numbers. We’ve done both. Mission accomplished with a few added adventures on the side,” Tom smiled and patted my hand.

  He knew more than anything what this assignment had meant to me. For the first time in a long time, we were home with relatives and friends. I knew Hattie had engineered it like she does so many things so she may already know that we had been assigned another church in north Georgia.

  As a ministry wife, I’d been through this several times and certainly knew the drill. It’s just that here with Hattie as a sort of pseudo-mother and with my sister’s visits it had been different. The Thursday Club was icing on the cake. I’d make deep friendships and shared experiences like never before. I wasn’t sure but I thought this was a ‘one in a lifetime’ thing. How could I find the words to tell everyone that in a few weeks we would be loading up the U-Haul and leaving Athena for who knows where?

  I must put on a brave Scarlett face – “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” In the meantime, getting through each service, each hour, each day would be difficult. I would always think this was the ‘last’ this or the ‘last’ that. Would it be less cruel just to leave and not say anything? But of course that was impossible.

  I generally make it a practice not to lie. Sometimes I withhold my opinions to save feelings or don’t comment when asked or better still change the subject. Leaving the parsonage at First Church was not going to be that easy. I think people will begin to notice when furniture comes out of the house or a big orange and white moving van arrives.

  Now I was almost afraid to see my friends because of spilling the beans. It wouldn’t do for them to find out from anyone else, but how to tell them and when? As if on cue my cell phone rang and the caller I.D. flashed my sister’s name – saved by the bell so to speak.

  “Hello Debra. Are you traveling?” I said.

  “Nope I’m here and by here I mean the Manor. What has happened? It looks like a war and my family lost. I took a rental from the airport and used the GPS. I know the address is correct so where is everybody?” Debra frantically rattled every word off so fast that I couldn’t say anything until she took a breath.

  “I’m so sorry. As you have witnessed, everything has been in a jumble. We are all okay so don’t worry about that, but there have been a few complications. Come over to the parsonage and I’ll bring you up to speed. Oh and just so you know, Hattie and Howard are at the townhouse until further notice. Your um… I guess he would be your cousin, Neal, is there finishing up some details,” I spoke more quickly than I meant to but I wanted to get it out before Debra interrupted me as I knew she would.

  “But what about. . . ?”

  “No butts, just come. I’ll answer every question and if I can arrange it I’ll have Hattie meet us here. Hanging up dear.” Dial tone. She wouldn’t like it but she would come and we could have the powwow that I am sure she’d demand. I didn’t care. It would be nice to have her here especially now that I had to tell the gang that Tom and I had been reassigned to another church. So much had transpired that I hadn’t even asked where the new assignment was. It was enough that it wasn’t HERE.

  Now to the task at hand – calling Hattie and tidying up for my sister’s visit. Howard arranged for Suzy to bring her in Scarlett. Then of course Amy would tag along. I’d better invite Clara or she’d have hurt feelings. Hell! Bring the whole crowd for the crying jag of a lifetime.

  I let Tom know what was going on. His advice was just “rip it off like a Band-Aid” and it will feel better. We would make the formal announcement in Sunday’s service but for now it seemed appropriate to fill in our best friends. He had already confided in Howard and Tony but they swore to keep it from the girls until I could tell them personally. Easier said than done, especially when one of them was your sister’s biological mother which sort of made us related.

  Debra arrived a little before the others. She helped me put on the kettle for tea and prepared Mr. Coffee for the arrival of the troops. I loved that we were getting together but not the reason. At least now the reason appeared to be Debra’s arrival and I would say nothing to the contrary.

  Clara arrived with a stack of files. Good! That would stall for a little more time as she delivere
d the latest of her findings. Of course there would have to be ‘catch up’ time for Debra about the manner as well as our personal lives. That should eat up at least an hour or more of our time together. I hated feeling this way – keeping secrets from those I loved but soon it would be over and we could all have a good cry.

  Hattie arrived in Scarlett with the sisters. All of them were dressed as if they were going to a photo shoot at Vanity Fair. They were also hysterically laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Amy was retelling the story about going to belly dancing class with you?” Suzy said.

  “What? Do tell,” Clara chimed in.

  “Wait I want to hear,” Debra leaned in.

  “Can we do this at another time?” I asked. “It’s too humiliating to repeat in my hearing.”

  After all the catching up and passing around Howard and Hattie’s photos from the wedding, we got down to serious business.

  “What’s the deal with the Manor?” Debra wanted to know. “The lawn is strewn with police tape and there are people taking measurements and soil samples. It looks like a war occurred on the premises.”

  I looked around to see if anyone was going to volunteer any information. It didn’t seem like it so I began the history of Howard buying the house, the moonshine poisoner corpse under the dining room floor, and the discovery of the other bodies killed by the sex trafficking ring. Debra asked a few questions but it was a lot to take in. Then I let her and the others in on the fact that Chief Browning was involved because of her father. That led to a few other questions and sharing the results of the DNA evidence.

  “Is that about all?” I looked to Hattie for any information I might have left out.

  “I think that about covers it,” she said. “It’s been an adventure that I could have lived without. But in spite of the horror, I’m glad these victims will get a decent burial and their families notified of their whereabouts. It’s the least we could do. The Manor will be transformed into a home for those who are abused or victimized in any way. Howard has appointed a committee to find someone to act as Director and draw up guidelines for admission. The new name for the premises will be Elan Estates.”