As my adrenaline faded, the truth set in, and it was grim. If there was anything I could take comfort in, however slight, it was the fact that Jake’s killer would pay for their crime. While that brought me a little solace, it didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t bring my boyfriend back.
Luckily, I wasn’t completely alone in my effort to pick up the pieces. Detective Stone was also wrestling with the ramifications of the events that had unfolded, as well as where to go from there.
He tried to point me in the right direction. “Normally, I’d say it was time for a congratulatory donut, but pastries don’t seem appropriate at a time like this.”
I respected his willingness to shelve his taste buds. That being said, I didn’t concur with his logic and wasn’t shy about telling him that. “I disagree. I don’t think donuts could be more appropriate right now.”
At first, the detective didn’t seem sure of how to react to my statement. He was sure he’d said the right thing—not to mention the most considerate one. While I couldn’t argue with that, I wasn’t operating on logic, but rather pure emotions.
I decided to clear up the lingering confusion. “The problem is, this is not something that one donut or even twenty will fix.”
He sighed. “That’s depressing but true. How about a donut anyway?”
I shook my head then found myself saying something I never thought I would. “I’m not in the mood.”
Being such a normally tight-lipped man, he was having trouble figuring out where to go from there. I could see in his eyes that he was ill equipped for such an emotionally weighty situation. To be fair, he was an officer of the law, not a professional grief counselor. Even the kindest of people found themselves verbally handcuffed during such times of great turmoil. Given the grim circumstances he found himself knee deep in, he was doing his best.
“I wish there was more I could say, but the only thing that seems to fit is that I’m really sorry that this happened to you.”
“I know you are.”
“I realize I’ve already said that to you, but everything else I keep thinking just seems like platitudes. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m afraid words can only do so much at a time like this.”
“Trust me, in this case, the thought really does count,” I replied.
Stone became discouraged seeing that nothing he said cheered me up. He wasn’t the only one. Despite my best efforts to try and find a silver lining, I was still at a loss.
The detective decided to take the conversation in a different direction. “On another note, that was some fine detective work back there.”
What the detective saw as a job well done, I viewed as a close call. Solving a murder investigation was always a bit of a high-wire act. No matter how skilled a sleuth was, luck always played a part. I could pretend I’d done it all on my own, but I’d just be lying. In this case, finding the killer had as much to do with luck as anything I’d done.
“I got lucky,” I said.
I knew a lot of people who would have basked in the limelight, letting their egos take center stage. To me, that just seemed like a waste of time. Of course, credit wasn’t something I was interested in. Not then, or really at any time. My life’s desire was neither to carve out a name for myself as a sleuth, nor to jockey for respect. Investigating murder cases was something I’d fallen into strictly by accident. That went a long way to explaining why I didn’t have grand designs.
I was more than happy to let luck take a hundred percent of the credit for this case getting closed. So, what did matter to me? Having the killer behind bars and trying to cobble together what was left of my life.
I explained that to the detective. “I’m just happy this case is closed. I was worried the killer was close to getting away.”
My humility, while refreshing to the detective, would not be left at just that.
“Thanks to you, he won’t,” Stone said.
I had to take a moment to acknowledge what the detective was doing. Unlike me, Stone was a man with a sizable ego. For him to push that aside to give me credit was a significant gesture. The fact that he was doing it willingly was even more remarkable.
While I was the one to ultimately break the case wide open, he deserved kudos for his efforts as well. “Last time I checked, you put in a lot of work on this as well.”
“True, but I’m not too proud to give credit where it is due,” he replied. “I know it won’t bring Jake back, but at least justice has been served.”
After all his effort, he’d finally hit on the only bright side there was to the situation.
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice to know that Jake will be able to rest in peace.”
My thoughts then drifted off as I looked into the distance. Before my head had a chance to get lost too deep in the clouds, the detective brought me back down to earth.
“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
I gave him a weak smile. “I know it may not seem like it right now, but you’re doing plenty. Thanks for being so kind.”
He smiled back. “You’re welcome.”
Silence threatened the conversation, bringing an awkwardness to it. The present had been talked to death. He turned to the future.
The detective broke the tension. “So, what are you going to do now?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. For the first time since I can remember, my future is a big question mark.”
The blank look on his face made me realize he hadn’t expected an existential dilemma from me.
Detective Stone revised his statement. “I meant tonight, not in the grand scope of things.”
That question, unlike the previous one, was easy to answer. “Oh. That’s simple. There will most certainly be chocolate. And alcohol. Can’t forget that.”
“Sounds like you have a good plan.”
“It’s a start, for sure. After all, it’s hard to go wrong with chocolate.”
Epilogue
Chocolate was good to me that night. After a few truffles, my mood significantly improved. It wasn’t a fluke that in times of great stress, women so often turned to chocolate for comfort. Those sugary little treats delivered in a big way. Unfortunately, the effect was only temporary—at least on my mood. When it came to my waistline, chocolate made its presence felt almost immediately.
The next day was disturbing for a number of reasons. The first was the bloated number I saw on my scale. Next was that a new reality was beginning to set in. Sure, the case was behind me, but in its wake, I was forced to stare down a life without Jake in it. The sobering gravity of that hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a shell of my former self and wondered if I’d ever be whole again.
The next few days did not give me promising answers. As the week came to a close, I found myself feeling colder than I’d ever been before. I wasn’t just talking weather-wise, although a freak windstorm sweeping through the area didn’t help temperatures any. If home was where the heart was, my heart certainly wasn’t in Frozen Pine.
Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable in my own hometown, haunted by the memories of all I’d lost. My friends kept telling me it was all part of the grieving process and that only time could heal the wounds I was trying to recover from.
They were saying the right words, trying to comfort me as best as they could, but deep down, I knew there wasn’t truth to their words. My heart told me a darker story. It wasn’t alone. My mind followed suit. At the back of my head, the same question kept cropping up, refusing to be ignored.
It all tied into the conversation I’d had with the detective after wrapping up the case. By accident, the discussion had taken a turn to my distant future when the detective was really only asking about my plans for that particular evening. But, mistake or not, once the seed had been planted in my head, I couldn’t get it out. If anything, it kept growing, making me wonder just what my future had in store for me.
Finally, when I’d eaten all the chocolate in my house, and I�
�d run out of wine, I was forced to stare down more than just a trip to the supermarket. An uncertain path was ahead of me, but one thing was clear—the life I knew was gone.
The detective’s words reminded me of that. Of course, he didn’t mean to send me into an existential crisis. Just the opposite, really. He was trying to make me feel better. It was my mind that took his question and ran wild with it.
Regardless of intentions, I was living in a new world—one without Jake in it. It was ironic—I felt dead inside, yet I was the one who was still alive. I had to remind myself of that when I wandered around like a zombie. Although it didn’t seem like it, I was the fortunate one. So, even though it was difficult for me to do so, I had to find a way to pick up the pieces.
If I gave up, it would be doing his memory a disservice. After all, if the roles had been reversed and I had died, I wouldn’t want him to stop living. I’d want him to find happiness again. I knew he’d feel the same way about me. The question became, how could I cobble my life back together? And what would happiness even look like without him?
That was yet to be determined. They were simple questions to ask but very difficult to answer. In the face of such a haunting question mark, I did what came naturally to me. Namely, resisting change. Even though my better judgment told me I couldn’t revisit the past, I found myself trying to settle into old, familiar patterns. Still, as much as I tried to convince myself my life could go back to normal, or at least, a close facsimile of it, deep down, knew I was just deluding myself.
The next month was spent going through the motions. I went to work, came home, turned off my brain as I watched reality TV, then zonked out, only to repeat the same thing the following day. It wasn’t much of a life, mostly because I wasn’t truly living at all. In essence, I was just existing moment to moment, trying to survive the day rather than get the most of it.
Finally, on a particular frigid Thursday afternoon, a blizzard shook me out of my stupor. As I sat inside, hiding from the cold, impatiently waiting for the storm to end, I got a nasty case of cabin fever. It was then I realized the futility of my actions. I was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. If I wanted things to change, I’d have to switch things up.
So, I did. I decided to swap out my frozen surroundings for greener pastures. I vowed not to be haunted by the ghosts of my hometown any longer. I knew what a future in Frozen Pine looked like, and I wanted a different ending to my story—a happy one.
That was when I began packing. At that moment, I didn’t know exactly where I was headed—I just knew it wouldn’t be Frozen Pine, and that my final destination would be a lot warmer. I wanted to put Alaska in my rearview mirror, the sooner the better.
It wasn’t the most radical of ideas. I’d tried leaving town before, but this time, nothing would hold me back. The minute I made my mind up, my mood improved instantly. Surprisingly, even though I looked out at an uncertain future, I wasn’t crippled by anxiety.
If anything, I was excited to be able to carve out a new path. This had a chance of working out very well for me. For one thing, I’d be leaving the cold behind for good. Perhaps, I’d leave my bad luck in the dust as well. At least, I could hope. Either way, I’d be able to leave the ghosts behind.
When the blizzard finally let up, I stared out the window at the sun setting in the distance, my mind racing with possibilities and a newfound hope. When I left town a month later, I didn’t look back. I kept on driving, my mind focused squarely on the future. Even though my days in Alaska were gone, they were far from forgotten. I didn’t know exactly where the road was going to take me, but I’d take the memory of Jake everywhere, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The End.
Deadpan Murder
Chapter One
It had been a dreadful day, and it wasn’t even over yet. As much as I hated to admit it, the end was nowhere in sight. Yet, as nightmarish of a morning as it had been for me, it had been infinitely worse for poor Lara Peabody. Luck was never a good friend of hers, but during the wee hours of the morning, it had forsaken her for the last time.
I stood in the Dunsburyshire morgue and stared at her cold, stiff, lifeless body. The town of Dunsburyshire, population 5437, which was typically a stranger to death by any means other than natural causes, had seen a recent and disturbing uptick in its previously non-existent murder rate. I’d lived here all thirty-nine years of my life and never once feared for my safety. Had I been deluding myself with a false sense of security all this time, or had my dear hometown just taken a sudden unfortunate turn for the worse?
That was a question that the future would be more than happy to reveal in due time. Currently, other pressing matters commanded my attention. I kept staring at Lara’s blank eyes, amazed that they had once been so vibrant.
Being around the recently deceased was never a comfortable experience, but I was especially squeamish because Lara wasn’t just some stranger who’d passed away in her sleep. She was an old friend of mine who had been murdered in cold blood. If that wasn’t enough, the specific circumstances surrounding her ultimate demise were mysterious, particularly in regards to who had committed the murder.
For the moment, I didn’t want to think about that. There was plenty of time to sort out those details. This, to me, was about saying a last goodbye. Sure there would be a funeral for Lara in the not-so-distant future, but judging by trauma to the head, it was not shaping up to be an open casket affair. Also, at a public ceremony, I would be surrounded by other funeral-goers. Right then, it was just Lara and me.
Depending on who you talked to, they’d most likely have a very distinct opinion of who Lara Peabody was. She had a strong personality, which elicited responses on both ends of the spectrum. Her family and employees at her chain of book shops often shared negative views of her. Meanwhile, as her friend, I only had good things to say about her.
I was still very much trying to get over the shock of having her gone. I’d always known her as an energetic, passionate woman who was never afraid to speak her mind. When I was around her, I could rarely get a word in edgewise. That’s why it was so disturbing to see her now with her mouth closed, knowing it would never open again.
Despite her bluster and the distinct lack of filter when it came to her opinions, she also had a heart of gold. A lot of people didn’t ever dig deep enough to see it, but that was their loss. If I was defensive of my friend, it was because I felt she was deeply misunderstood sometimes. Besides, she was more than just a friend to me.
On some levels, I almost viewed Lara as a maternal figure--sort of like the mum I never had, albeit one who came into my life as an adult rather than as a child. My birth mum, God bless her soul, passed away from a heart attack when I was only four years old. Because of that, I grew up with a mum-sized void in my heart.
My father raised me and did an honorable job, but despite his best efforts, one thing he couldn’t replicate was a feminine touch. It should have come as no surprise that during my entire childhood, I was a tomboy. Even deep into adulthood, I was rarely mistaken for a girly-girl. We were all products of the environment we were raised in, but it was only when I met Lara eight years ago at a book club meeting that I realized just how different I was than women who grew up with mothers.
Despite her boisterous tendencies, Lara was undeniably feminine. She loved cooking, shopping, makeup, and cosmopolitans. Of course, as the owner of a chain of bookstores, she loved reading too, which was what allowed us to hit it off so well. Surprisingly, she had a void in her life as well.
While I had grown up without a mother, she’d spent her adulthood raising ungrateful children. All three of her offspring were cold to her and didn’t show even the slightest hint of appreciation for all the effort she’d put into raising them. So, when Lara met me, someone who did enjoy spending time with her, it warmed her heart.
That’s why it was so difficult for me to stomach the fact that she was gone. It was bad enough to lose my r
eal mum. Seeing Lara’s life cut so tragically short just added insult to injury. Having to say an early goodbye to her under such heartbreaking circumstances was absolutely devastating.
At the same time, as uncomfortable of a sight, as it was staring down my deceased friend, I couldn’t seem to look away. I just kept looking at her, wondering how this could have happened. Make no mistake; this was a terrible loss that would take months if not years to fully get over.
I stood there, my emotions completely raw, and troubled beyond belief. Death was never an easy thing to grapple with, but in this case, it was so shocking that it had left me speechless. There were so many things I wanted to say to her even though I knew she couldn’t hear any of them. I kept thinking maybe her spirit could if it hadn’t been carried off to heaven yet. If so, she’d probably be disappointed in how thoroughly my tongue was tied.
I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself, but regardless of the effort I put in, I was unable to pull myself together. If anything, the longer I stood there, the bigger wreck I became. I’d always thought of myself as a woman who was stronger than I looked, yet there I was, completely falling apart. Before the sight of her body became too much for me to take, I uttered the only words that I was able to muster.
“I just want you to know that I’m not going to rest until I find out who did this to you.”
Chapter Two
I stood out in the car park below an overhang, safely out of reach of the drizzle that fell on the cement in front of me. It was a hazy day. Not only had the sun not bothered to come out yet, but it looked like it was planning to take the whole day off. What unfortunate timing.
I really could have used a few rays of sunshine after the darkness I’d just encountered. Conversely, the rainy, grey sky acted as a damp canvas for the proceedings. If the precipitation wasn’t bad enough, there was also a slight chill in the air, making it feel more like a crisp fall afternoon rather than the Saturday in early August that it was.
Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set Page 17
