by Lois Lavrisa
“Have you switched jobs?” he asked.
“No. Why do you ask?” I asked.
“I’m feeling a little interrogated, and was wondering if you were in law enforcement now.”
“Sorry. It’s very complicated, with Francesca and Mark’s death, and Estelle’s home. I’m trying my best to help everyone out. I’m sort of forming my own amateur detective agency. Actually it’s a one woman show right now,” I said.
“Let me know if I can join your posse,” Jacob said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I will be. Thanks for your help. I really do promise this will all make sense once I check on a few things,” I said before we clicked off.
As soon as I hung up with Jacob I called H&K’s to substantiate Jacobs’s story. The regular night waitress remembered seeing him and a few guys for the better part of the evening.
Therefore, I could pretty safely assume he did not kill Mark. I guess he could be trusted.
I called Jacob to let him know he could join my posse of one. He agreed to meet with me at Estelle’s house in a half-hour.
***
When I got back home and before Jacob showed up, I looked through the list of SOS members. Hazel was president, Estelle was vice president. Mark was treasurer, the next door neighbor was listed as secretary. Francesca had signed the petition. It seemed that SOS connected Mark and Francesca. Did that association ultimately cause their deaths?
One scenario was that Robert McNally and Francesca were lovers. Something happened. Then she got angry over it and decided to get back at him. She joined SOS. McNally, reacted by killing her. And my next hunch was a bit fuzzy. Then McNally decided to kill Mark too because he was also involved in SOS. Maybe Francesca and Mark knew something that could potentially damage McNally.
What should I do next?
The door bell rang.
I opened the door and my eyes fell upon Jacob, who wore blue jeans, a white t-shirt and sandals. I said, “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” Jacob stepped inside.
We walked back to the kitchen. I poured two ice teas and set them next to Estelle’s cookies. She always had a tray of cookies set out. Before I could stop him, he reached for a cookie and then took a bite. He grimaced then took a huge gulp of tea.
I pulled the tray away. “I’m so very sorry. They’re just for show. Here, have one of these. It’s better for you,” I handed him a banana from a nearby fruit bowl.
“No thanks.” His mouth puckered, and then he grimaced. “No offense, but those cookies are horrible.”
“Estelle makes them for people to eat, but they make better decorations,” I said. “You’ve got to love someone with her determination. Like right now she is in the Save Our Streets group. You’ve heard about the eminent domain and the hospital? Well there is just so much happening. And then the deaths of Francesca and Mark, and I just don’t know how to explain myself and how I’ve been acting.”
I looked out the kitchen window.
“CiCi, are you going to tell me what’s going on? I like you and I’m willing to help you. What I don’t get is, after we make love you run away. It’s as though you want me but are repelled by me too. I just can’t figure out what’s going on. I’m a patient guy and all, but it’s time for you to open up.”
“Sorry. But I do need your help,” I said.
“Shoot,” he said.
I spent the next fifteen minutes telling him what was going on, leaving out the blackmailer and the trucker incident. It had nothing to do with the murders. It had all to do with Robert McNally.
“So how are you going to confirm McNally killed them? Why don’t you just get the police involved? Let them take over,” he said.
“I thought about that, but really. We’re talking about accusing the CEO of the largest employer in Round Lake of killing the mayor’s daughter and the mail boat captain. I’m sure I’d need solid proof before anyone would listen,” I said. “Or I could be held liable for slander, right?”
“So what do you have in mind?” he asked.
“You worked for Francesca. Do you remember anything that could be of help?”
“I already told you about the married boyfriend. Who, if you’re right, is McNally. Were you aware that he and the mayor are friends?” Jacob said.
“No, not beyond the fact that the mayor’s construction company was hired to work on the hospital’s expansion. Did their friendship go beyond a business relationship?” I asked.
“Francesca had mentioned they were golf partners as well as business partners. Also there was one particular time I was in the office when I overheard McNally in a heated discussion behind closed doors. However, when they walked out they were shaking hands.” He added, “After McNally and the mayor left, Francesca said they were changing some subcontractors.”
“It didn’t seem to me that McNally was mad at the mayor, but rather the other way around. To me, the only thing that would make sense is if somehow the mayor found out that his buddy McNally had Francesca as his mistress,” I said.
“Yeah that would make me mad too. I’d be pissed if a friend of mine was sleeping with my daughter,” he said.
“You have a kid?” I asked.
“I’m just speaking hypothetically,” he added. “For me, I think that McNally had the motive. His job. Could you imagine the problems he would have at the hospital if he spent all their money on the expansion and it never happened?”
“Okay then. I agree with you. But why murder Francesca?” I asked.
“Why does anyone kill anyone? Jealousy, sex, money, revenge,” he said
“Should I be worried that you’re so knowledgeable about this subject?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he smiled.
“Here’s what I think. I’m going on the premise that McNally is the killer. Now I have to find his motive,” I said.
“Guilty until proven innocent. Not exactly a citizen’s rights.” He laughed.
“Okay, so I’m not conventional,” I said. Then I looked at the clock above our stove, it was three thirty. “Are you going to the memorial?”
“The whole city is,” he said.
“Let’s do some clandestine sleuthing while we’re there, see what we can find out about McNally and Francesca. Anything at all,” I said as I got up.
Jacob’s cell rang as he stood. “I’ll see you tonight.” He kissed me before he left and took the call.
I grabbed some paper and wrote out Francesca’s eulogy. It took two hours, I read it back, and it wasn’t half bad.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
At six in the evening, the Cathedral was packed for Francesca’s memorial service. The place was overflowing with bouquets of fragrant flowers. All the white votive candles were lit and a sea of mourners squeezed shoulder to shoulder into the pews.
Mayor Pike directed me to the front pew with his sister and several of his relatives. The choir sang hymns. Father O’Doul said prayers and blessings and gave a full mass. Then I had to present the eulogy.
Standing on the altar, at the podium, I had a view of all the faces. I scanned to the left and saw Robert McNally with his arm around his redhead wife’s shoulder. She was his age, mid fifties, attractive with the tell tale tight face of plastic surgery.
In the middle sat Estelle and Hazel, surrounded by dozens wearing white round buttons with SOS in red lettering. In front of them sat Doug, Francesca’s neighbor, and what I guessed was his family. He waved at me as we made eye contact. I waved back.
On the right was Ken with several of his peers from the hospital. I was glad he could take time off work to pay his respects to the mayor’s daughter, and my best friend. He nodded his head when I saw him. Lucas was there with many of our friends. I saw priests and nuns from Saint Francis School. I also noticed several of our fellow classmates. Many politicians were in attendance, as well as the news media.
Standing in the far right aisle, near the back door, was Jacob. He was one of dozens who had to stand becau
se pews were at capacity. Apparently everyone in Round Lake was at the service.
Placing my handwritten notes on the podium, I held onto the outer edges to steady myself. I adjusted the microphone to mouth level. It made a squeak as I moved it. No matter how nervous and grief stricken, I was determined to give a proper eulogy.
Taking a deep breath, I began, “Francesca was like a ray of sunshine, her smile warming everyone she met. Her friends were plentiful, and the love she gave and received bountiful. Her passion for life, her zest for adventure and her stunning beauty were unsurpassed. She also had a great love of France, having spent the last four years there with her Aunt Vivian. In honor of her favorite French poet Victor Hugo, I will read “More Strong than Time.”
Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet,
Since I my pallid face between your hands have laid,
Since I have known your soul, and all the bloom of it,
And all the perfume rare, now buried in the shade;
Since it was given to me to hear on happy while,
The words wherein your heart spoke all its mysteries,
Since I have seen you weep, and since I have seen you smile,
Your lips upon my lips, and your eyes upon my eyes;
Since I have known above my forehead glance and gleam,
A ray, a single ray, of your star, veiled always,
Since I have felt the fall, upon my lifetime’s stream,
Of one rose petal plucked from the roses of your days;
I now am bold to say to the swift changing hours,
Pass, pass upon your way, for I grow never old,
Fleet to the dark abysm with all your fading flowers,
One rose that none may pluck, within my heart I hold.
Your flying wings may smite, but they can never spill
The cup fulfilled of love, from which my lips are wet;
My heart has far more fire than you can frost to chill,
My soul more love than you can make my soul forget.
“Francesca and I met in Kindergarten. Her long hair was enchanting to me. She allowed me to put her silky golden locks in braids. Everything about Francesca was magical to me. She was the sister I never had. The sister I looked up to and would follow to the end of earth.”
“During grade school our desks butted up to each other. We passed notes under the desks and quite a few times the nuns intercepted them.”
The audience chuckled.
I continued, “Yet our punishments were no greater than washing desk tops, or raking leaves at the convent. Francesca had the knack to turn anything into an adventure, as we chatted and laughed through the chores. From kindergarten through twelfth grade, the nuns seemed to take a special notice of Francesca. Not only because they looked out for her after her mother passed, but also because I believe she was like a firefly to them. Flitting and floating and lighting up wherever she went. You couldn’t help but notice her,” I paused. Many in the attendance were nodding their head in agreement.
“She was, as we all know, captivating in every sense of the word. Many of you remember us together, and if I close my eyes I can still see it. All the summers we rode our bikes around Round Lake from the time the sun rose, until the golden glow of sunset.” I continued for the next several minutes, holding back my tears as the words flowed out.
When I finished, the mourners had sniffles and smiles.
Except for Robert McNally, who constantly looked at his cell phone.
Why wasn’t he grieving for his lover?
Chapter Thirty
Everyone went across the street to the parish hall for a buffet dinner reception. When I got there, I greeted and talked to many friends and neighbors. It was a Catholic event, which meant that beer and wine were being served as well as the nonalcoholic choices of coffee, tea and soda. The old joke about Catholic priests’ drinking “Whenever you see four priests, there is always a fifth” rang true at the hall as well.
Estelle and Hazel cackled with a big group of their friends. The mayor and Vivian stood amongst a large group of mourners. The packed hall buzzed with chatter as people talked and mingled, elbow to elbow. The scent of food and perfume merged in the air.
After I had a glass of wine and a bite to eat, I noticed Robert McNally near the door. This was my chance to talk to him. I approached him. His back was turned to me. I said, “Excuse me Mr. McNally. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He twisted around and looked me in the eye. “Francesca is everyone’s loss.”
“I agree. Yet you, more than anyone, have to be so upset,” I whispered.
“How so?” he asked.
“You know, because of your relationship and all.”
He looked around as if to see if anyone heard, then he leaned in and in a low voice said, “Watch yourself, young lady. I don’t know what you’re trying to imply.”
“I know Francesca was your mistress,” I replied.
With squinted eyes he said, “It’s none of your business.”
“See, I think it is. She was my best friend,” I said.
“She was trouble, and you’d best stay out of it,” he said as he seized my arm.
I pushed his hand away. “Trouble? What did you expect getting involved with your friend’s daughter?”
We wove past the crowd as he pulled me through the door exit to outside of the hall. “Now listen, you’re getting involved in something that’s none of your business.”
“It’s my business if I can track down her killer,” I said, my heart galloped. “Which could be you.” I just accused him. Talk about being in hostile territory.
“Killer?” he said in a low roar. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No. I have reason to believe that you could have wanted both Francesca and Mark dead,” I said.
“Mark who?” He asked.
“The mail boat captain.” I held back my tears. “My best friend.”
“That’s enough. We may have had an affair, but I am not a murderer,” he snarled. “Do you know that you just insulted your fiancé’s boss?”
“No. I mean we’re not together anymore,” I said.
An older man approached us and greeted McNally.
“I’m going to consider this discussion closed for good. I strongly suggest you do the same,” he said as exited with the older man.
I sucked at finding justice for Francesca and Mark. If McNally was telling the truth, then I had to find another suspect. I headed back into the hall and Vivian and the mayor approached me.
“I’m afraid Vivian has had too much to drink,” the mayor said as he held her up.
She swayed, her eyelids were almost closed. “It’s all my fault. I should have protected her. She needed me and I wasn’t there for her,” Vivian slurred.
“Is there something I can do?” I asked as I took hold of Vivian’s arm.
“Yes, you could help me get her into the cab,” the mayor said. A cab was waiting right outside the hall. We gently deposited Vivian into the cab. She sobbed, still repeating, “It’s all my fault, I should have protected her.”
The mayor gave the cabbie a handful of money with specific instructions to ensure that she got safely to her room at the bed & breakfast.
I watched the taillights of the cab recede into the darkness. I asked the mayor, “How could Francesca’s death be her fault?”
“She had too much to drink and she’s grieving,” the mayor said. “Listen, keep this between us. I don’t want the police hearing about what she said in her drunken state, okay?”
“Oh. Right. I understand. It was the booze and grief. Got it,” I said. “Obviously, Vivian had nothing to do with Francesca’s death.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye, “Thank you.”
Then a tall man handed the mayor a drink and then ushered him back into the hall.
I remained outside for a moment. The night was cool, the leaves rustled in the wind. Stars sparkled in the sky and the lo
w murmur of people in the hall drifted outside. I took a deep breath and I could smell the lake. I loved that earthy tang.
Why hadn’t I found the killer? Maybe Jacob had better luck. I went back into the parish hall and found him.
“Any luck?” Jacob asked me.
“No. How about you?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m very lucky. I found you.” He winked.
“But I’m not the killer we’re looking for,” I said. Jacob was such a nice guy. How could I have ever thought he was a killer?
“But you’re killing me,” he said as he pulled me into a hug.
“Focus.” I smiled for the first time that night. I told him about the conversation with McNally. As instructed by the mayor I mentioned nothing about Vivian’s drunken rant.
“He may be telling the truth. If he is, who’s your next suspect?” He asked.
It had to be the blackmailer, but I still didn’t feel I could tell Jacob. I said, “I’m not sure.”
“It’s wrapping up here. Do you want to come over to my place?” he asked as he kissed my neck.
“I’m exhausted. I don’t know if I’ll be good company.” I kissed him back.
“We don’t have to talk.” He reached for my hand as we left for his house.
***
“I know what I have to do to solve the murders,” I said as I leaned on my elbow on a pillow. It was six a.m. and my mind was already racing.
“Well, good morning to you too sunshine,” Jacob said, his hair falling into his eyes. “I know what you have to do now.”
“What’s that?” I said as I pushed the hair from his eyes.
“Let me get your mind off of killers and onto something much more pleasant.” Jacob began to kiss my neck and slowly worked his way down.
“Killers what killers?” I said before I completely lost myself in his gentle caresses.
***
It was after eight a.m. when I finally left Jacob’s and got back to Estelle’s house, grabbed a shower, walked Skipper and had breakfast. Estelle had left me a note on the kitchen counter, saying she had a breakfast meeting with Hazel to refortify SOS.
As usual, her note had a lot of x’s and o’s as her sign off. She’d included a P.S: “I’m guessing you’re with the cute carpenter.” She made my heart smile. So did Jacob.
