Red Picket Fences

by Daphne McLean

  Red Picket Fences

  A Jennifer Temple Mystery

  Book One

  Daphne McLean

  Red Picket Fences

  Copyright © 2019 by Daphne McLean

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  ISBN: 9781795151603

  Imprint: Independently published

  Printed in the United States of America

  Visit www.DaphneMcLean.com

  Acknowledgements

  I could write a book just to thank everyone who has helped me though and shared in my journey.

  Thank you of course to my loving husband, my two little boys, and wonderful family for your support.

  Special thanks to my beta readers who really helped make this a much better book than what was delivered to them. I will be forever grateful.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Red Picket Fences

  Chapter 1

  Jennifer Temple heard the sounds of her two-year-old, William, starting to wake on the monitor. She squeezed her eyes shut, hugged her pillow and buried her face in it as the sounds grew louder. He was starting to sing now. She didn’t move. She closed her eyes tighter and buried her face deeper as if to will it to be 2 AM again. Please don’t let it be morning already.

  She was tired. Extreme exhaustion was a parenting achievement she had unlocked long ago, and she wore it like a badge. Incomplete sentences, muddled thoughts, and disheveled appearance were all evidence of this.

  She heard her husband, Peter, making his way down the hall, and then the unmistakable clunk a coffee mug made when coming into contact with a hard surface. That hard surface was her nightstand.

  “Wake up, lady,” he said as he gently kissed her on the head. “You’ve tried unsuccessfully to will it back to 2 AM for months now. William is really awake, and it’s really time to start your day. Morning, sunshine!”

  Jennifer slowly opened her eyes and looked up at her adoring husband, who was smiling at her. “Well, maybe I need to change my approach,” she said. “Maybe I need to stop trying to change the time with my mind and invent something. The ultimate snooze button. One tap and it’s 2 AM!”

  Peter chuckled. “This isn’t one of the movies you used to promote, Jen,” he said. “Welcome to reality. We’re happy to have you.”

  Jennifer let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Good point. I’d take staying home with William over a stuffy New York City office any day. Sleep would be nice, though,” she replied as she pretended to lie back down.

  William went from singing and talking to his stuffed animals to whining. It was only a matter of time before the whine turned into a cry, and then the cry to a scream. It was time to get up to start the day.

  Peter and Jennifer made their way down to William’s room. Peter kissed them both and went on his way to work. Jennifer picked her sweet little guy up and dressed him for the day. “What would you like for breakfast, little man?” she asked.

  “Toast and fruit!” William exclaimed.

  Jennifer loved that William was now able to put in a breakfast order. It took all of the guesswork out of feeding him, and there was less food waste. It was also delightfully adorable.

  They headed to the kitchen to make toast and fruit for breakfast. She decided to bring him back to her bed to eat, snuggle, and watch The Spongy and Starfish Show. She felt a twinge of guilt every time her little boy danced to the Spongy and Starfish Show theme song. He joyfully clapped at the end while giving her a big gleaming smile. She had to remind herself that it was only 20 minutes, and she liked snuggling with her son. It also gave her more of a chance to wake up and caffeinate.

  Jennifer stroked the top of William’s head and sipped coffee from the mug that Peter had lovingly made for her. William happily gobbled up his toast with honey butter and his bowl of mixed berries. Her mornings didn’t always go this smoothly, but this was one of the good ones.

  It was the type of morning that made her stop and thank the Lord for her family, and affirmed the decision to quit her public relations job at the movie production company and move to New Jersey to a community called Pembury Acres. Living in the sleepy little one-stoplight south Jersey town was not only quiet and peaceful, it was way less expensive than the city. This afforded Jennifer the opportunity to stay home and raise William, and Pembury Acres was a wonderful place to raise a family.

  As the Spongy and Starfish Show credits rolled, Jennifer heard her friend Suzanne calling her from the kitchen. Suzanne was a bit older than Jennifer but didn’t look it. Her son and daughter were juniors in high school, and her husband was in Albuquerque with a new wife. They had divorced several years prior.

  Suzanne was finally over the ‘angry and bitter’ stage, and was on to the ‘more fish in the sea’ stage. She had roped Jennifer, who was in the ‘I’m still carrying baby weight but my baby is now a toddler’ stage, into taking morning walks to get into shape.

  Typically, Jennifer resisted any type of physical activity, but she had grown to like the social aspect of meeting up with Suzanne every day, and thought that the fresh air was good for William.

  Suzanne approached the bedroom, coffee mug in hand, and shook her head at what she saw on the TV screen. She put one perfectly manicured hand on her hip and said with mock disdain, “You know, I just read a study that said watching The Spongy and Starfish Show actually shrinks your brain.” Jennifer laughed as William turned and made a beeline for Suzanne.

  “I know. Don’t remind me,” she said. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I find the show a bit entertaining.”

  “Oh, I know,” Suzanne said. “This is your coffee mug, and your coffee. While I was helping myself, I heard you two laughing at the show from the bedroom.”

  They both laughed and started getting ready to go on their walk.

  While Jennifer ran through the house looking for her other sneaker and her blue hoodie, Suzanne kept William occupied. Suzanne was always polished. Even though she was dressed casually for a walk, she looked like a million dollars. Her chin-length black hair was always pin-straight but never flat. Her face was bare except for some mascara and berry-red lipstick. Jennifer never saw her with a hair out of place or a chip in her nail polish. Her house was always impeccable, and the dinners she hosted would put Martha Stewart to shame.

  Jennifer, on the other hand, needed a little help. She found herself in the typical ‘mother of a two-year-old’ fashion rut. She was most comfortable in clothing that stretched because she was still getting used to dressing her postpartum body, and also because it was easier to chase a toddler around in comfortable clothes. She also didn’t wear anything that she would mind getting food, poop, pee or puke on. Jennifer wasn’t sloppy by any means, but she could use a little polishing.

  Her prematurely grey roots were showing, her eyebrows were a bit overgrown (which was now becoming a fad, apparently), and an emergency mani/pedi was defini
tely in order. She was working on it, but found that the needs of her son, her husband, her chickens, her home and her houseplants all came first. At 34 years old, Jennifer was still a work in progress.

  “Hey, I need to check the chickens and collect eggs before we head out. You still in for your usual order?” Jennifer asked as she finally located her other sneaker in William’s toy chest and slipped it on.

  “Yes, please,” Suzanne said as she added the finishing touches to her third block tower. William enjoyed knocking the blocks down even more if he hadn’t built the structure. “You know, I thought you were crazy when you bought those sweet little fluffy things. You’re really enjoying raising chickens, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, totally,” Jennifer said. “It’s hard to explain, but having a reason to take a few moments for myself in the morning is pretty rewarding. I love those little fluffy butts. I never thought I would find it relaxing to add something to my plate, but I really do. Plus, I have a constant supply of fresh eggs. That’s what won Peter over to the whole idea, and why he built the coop! I’ll be right back.”

  Jennifer picked up the very unnecessary egg basket she had bought from the local feed store and headed out back to the coop. She walked past the nearly empty garden boxes that Peter had also built. Her rosy-cheeked garden gnome sat among the death and destruction that was supposed to be a beautiful flower and vegetable garden. The cheery smile on his face mocked her. Maybe next year I’ll get it right.

  Jennifer loved being a stay-at-home mom and wanted to make the most of it. She also yearned for a little excitement, so she’d decided to try her hand at homesteading. She thought it would be a great hobby that would include and benefit the whole family. She’d read about making her own clothes, growing her own food, baking her own bread, and raising her own livestock. She had fully immersed herself in the idea for months.

  However, it hadn’t taken long to discover that perhaps homesteading wasn’t quite the ‘excitement’ Jennifer was looking for. An expensive sewing machine that had only been used once sat collecting dust in the basement. Her garden yielded about two cherry tomatoes and zero flowers. She was still working on baking bread but had yet to perfect a good sandwich loaf. The only aspect of homesteading that Jennifer truly enjoyed was her silly little chickens.

  As she approached the coop, the chickens all gathered by the pen door and began clucking excitedly.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Jennifer said cheerfully as she opened the coop door. “I’m not letting you out to roam just yet. Just checking your food and water.” She changed their water and topped off their feeder with a bit more grain. They all hopped back up into the coop and started pecking at the feed wildly, as if they hadn’t eaten in ages.

  Henny, her favorite chicken, scurried over to Jennifer, bowing her head and spreading her wings back. It was her chicken way of showing submission. “I’m not your rooster, silly girl,” Jennifer said as she ran her hand down Henny’s soft feathery back a few times. After Henny had had her fill of attention, Jennifer emptied the nesting box of its contents and closed the coop door. “Thanks for the eggs, girls,” she said as she headed back into the house.

  William and Suzanne were busy building blocks on the floor. Jennifer washed the eggs and popped them into an egg carton in the refrigerator. “Don’t forget these when we get back,” she said.

  “I sure won’t. Ready to go?” Suzanne asked as she scooped William up.

  Jennifer grabbed his stroller, and off they went for their daily morning walk.

  Chapter 2

  It was a beautiful autumn morning. As Jennifer and Suzanne chatted away, William was excitedly pointing to and trying to catch the falling leaves. There was nothing about the day that prepared the women for what they were about to find.

  Pembury Acres was one of the few places in New Jersey where the houses were not built right on top of one another. However, a strong sense of community had also been in the forefront of Robert Pembury’s mind when he had divided and sold the plots of his farmland many years ago. Many of the houses in Pembury Acres had started out as summer bungalows that members of a predominately Irish community in Brooklyn built for their families in 1926. The families wanted a place to escape the frenzied pace of the city. Many of the original owners or the children of the owners still resided in Pembury Acres today. The residents had dubbed Pembury Acres “one of the best-kept secrets in New Jersey.” Little did they know that the best-kept secret in New Jersey was about to become front-page news.

  As Jennifer and Suzanne rounded the corner, which was just a short distance from Jennifer’s house, they were shocked to see the scene before them. There was what seemed to be the entire neighborhood surrounding the Ashtons’ home, and smoke was billowing from the windows. Sarah and Ethan Ashton, along with their four small children, had just moved to the neighborhood from Pittsburgh a few months prior. Jennifer had spoken to Sarah a handful of times - mostly when Jennifer was giving Sarah the mail that had mistakenly been put into her mailbox. The Ashtons seemed like really nice people. The two women always made promises to have each other over for coffee or dinner, but the demands of life and having small children had gotten in the way, and those plans had yet to come to fruition. Besides, Jennifer was just doing enough to stay afloat these days, and having six people over for dinner was unfortunately not on the top of her priority list. She decided to reach out to see if they needed anything and promised herself to head up a committee to gather essential items for them. That poor family was losing everything. It was the least she could do.

  The police were beginning to set up barricades to protect the residents from the fire that was now beginning to spread rather quickly. What had started as a far-off sound of the fire truck sirens became louder and pierced Jennifer’s ears as they approached the home. Hot bursts of air brushed against her face when the wind blew in her direction. Jennifer scanned the crowd and couldn’t locate anyone in the Ashton family. She was beginning to panic.

  “Oh my goodness,” Suzanne said, holding her hand to her mouth. “I hope the children are all right.”

  “I don’t see them anywhere. I’m praying that they aren’t in the house,” Jennifer said, feeling oddly out of touch with the reality of the situation. She watched true crime shows that featured death and destruction nightly. Now, here she was in front of a real-life emergency, and she was having trouble processing it all. Police cars and caution tape were not quite what she had been expecting to see on this day. She looked at Suzanne, who was just staring at the blaze, which was now growing even larger.

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” Jennifer replied, trying to stay hopeful. “The fire is really going now, but it likely just started. It was only smoke when we arrived, and the fire trucks just pulled in. Maybe Sarah took the kids to school, and Ethan is on his way to work.” She was trying to stay calm, but she was starting to panic. Where were Sarah, Ethan and the kids?

  “Maybe,” Suzanne replied, sounding distant. “Listen,” she continued, “why don’t you go and see if everyone’s okay, and I’ll take William back to the house. I’m really worried about Sarah, Ethan, and the kids. I know her aunt, and I’m going to call to see if she knows where they are.”

  “You’re right,” said Jennifer. “I don’t really want William to be by the fire. I shouldn’t be long, and I’ll call you when I hear something. Thanks, friend.”

  Jennifer stood still for a moment and watched Suzanne walk away with William. She instantly contemplated going home with them and hugging William tight, but then she realized that he was fine and would be safe with Suzanne. It also dawned on her that Suzanne had acted rather quickly, too quickly for Jennifer to even have the time to think to get William away from all of this.

  Why would Suzanne not be the one to go and find out what’s going on? Can’t she call Sarah’s aunt from her cell? Why is she home with William instead of me? Then Jennifer realized that she had been standing
there in the middle of the street, lost in thought.

  It was simple. Suzanne knew she had a nosy side and was letting Jennifer indulge a bit. Suzanne also had years more experience of being not only a parent, but a single parent, and her mommy reflexes were slightly faster. Jennifer waved off any doubts about her parenting and her friend. It was time to finally get moving and go help the Ashtons in their time of need.

  Jennifer waded through the sea of velour jumpsuits, Starbucks and smartphones to get a closer look. She laughed to herself, thinking how stereotypical it all was. Chatty housewives clutching their coffee mugs, feigning concern for a family they had only met a few months prior. Then she looked down at her own hands, realizing she too had a Starbucks travel mug in one hand and a smartphone in the other. She wasn’t wearing a pricey velour jumpsuit, though; she’d put on a T-shirt with the word ‘Murderino’ across the chest (a slogan from her favorite true crime podcast), a blue hoodie, and well-loved fleece sweatpants. Nevertheless, she was still a part of the flock.

  Among the chatter, Jennifer learned that the children were not home, and were at their aunt’s house a few roads down. Jennifer didn’t know if the Ashtons had any family close by, but then reminded herself that she lived in Pembury Acres. Of course they had family close by. Is my family the only ones who don’t live near relatives? She reminded herself to ask Suzanne. Suzanne had lived there as long as anyone else, and had a second cousin or aunt or someone she barely spoke to a few houses down. She would know.

  Jennifer started walking around the scene. She thought it was horrifying that a house could be a home with a family inside one day and then a scene with victims inside the next – although she was holding out hope that there were no victims inside. Just then, she noticed that the family minivan was in the driveway, alongside Ethan’s coupe. Sarah and Ethan were likely home, and at the speed the fire was going, they were likely dead. Her heart sank and her stomach churned at the thought. Her suspicions were confirmed when an ambulance rolled in with no siren blaring, and a coroner’s car was following. Ethan and Sarah Ashton were likely dead.