Case of the Burned Brownies

by Jessica Lansberry

  “Oh yes, I’m… Mrs. Fletcher?” the lady asked, her red eyes widening with recognition.

  The moment that the woman had spoken her name, using the more formal ‘Mrs. Fletcher,’ Beatrice recognized who she was. "Susie?" Beatrice asked. Despite the setting, there was no mistaking her. She had grown a little older since the two had last seen each other, but she would recognize those beautiful bright blue eyes anywhere.

  Susie Summers was easily one of Beatrice’s favorite students of all time. She was the type of student who always got her homework done on time and then asked for more. She was respectful, intelligent, and was the kind of student that all teachers wanted. Beatrice had always seen great things in her future. Of course, teachers said that kind of thing all the time about students, but Susie was different.

  But now, seeing her standing behind the desk of this run-down hotel, Beatrice couldn’t help but be a little surprised. It wasn’t that becoming a hotel manager was a bad thing, it was just that Beatrice had always expected so much more from her. She had the kind of potential where if she had run for President, Beatrice wouldn't have been surprised. And she probably would have voted for her too.

  “I can't believe it's you,” said Susie, struggling through the tears, her voice thick with mucus. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

  “Well, we’re not really. We were just passing through and our car broke down. We were going to get it fixed, but there was an accident and…” At the mention of the accident, Susie suddenly burst into tears again, big fresh droplets of salty water pouring down her face. “Are you OK, dear?” Beatrice tried again.

  “Look! Fresh fruit!” Sophie beamed as she spotted a bowl of very fake looking fruit next to Beatrice.

  She reached forward to grab one, total excitement in her eyes as she picked up a plastic apple. She probably would have eaten it too if Stella hadn’t slapped it from her hand. “Sophie.”

  “I’m fine,” Susie continued. “It’s just, that accident that happened… well, it was… it…. The person in the car was my daughter.” How she even got through that admission Beatrice will never know as the moment that the last of the words left her lips, Susie again burst into tears and it was totally justified too.

  “Oh my!” Beatrice exclaimed, reaching forward and taking Susie by the hand. “I’m so sorry. If there is anything I can do…” it wasn’t an empty gesture either. Beatrice was one hundred percent sincere in it. Her fondness for Susie hadn’t diminished with time.

  “No, there’s nothing you can…. There really isn’t anything… excuse me…” Susie pushed the key to the room across the desk then turned and hurried into the back room, an absolute mess of tears and grief. Even with the door closed, Beatrice could still hear the tears.

  Beatrice’s heart broke as she watched the spot where her ex-student had stood. Beatrice had always had a bit of a motherly instinct when it came to her students, and this didn’t weaken with the passing of time either. All she wanted to do was help Susie and make her feel better, any way that she could.

  Although Susie may have thought that there was nothing Beatrice could do, that wasn’t entirely true. Beatrice knew one thing that she could do that would certainly help ease the suffering. It might not bring her daughter back, but it would provide some sort of closure, which in the end could be just as effective.

  It also happened to be one thing that Beatrice did better than anyone else… at least as far as she was concerned. As the local cops weren’t up to it, it was time for Beatrice to step up. She was going to solve this murder.

  5

  The room was a little nicer than the lobby would have implied. It was actually three rooms, each one connected by an adjoining door, although they all shared the same bathroom. Although the room was just as old as the rest of the place, Beatrice was relieved to see that new bedsheets and pillows were at least used. This might not be so bad yet.

  The moment that the girls trudged into the room, Beatrice wanted nothing more than to collapse on her bed or perhaps lie in the bathtub and relax. Just the thought of the hot water engulfing her entire body made her shudder with delight.

  If the last few hours had done nothing else, they had reminded her of how old she was getting. First, there was the way she was currently feeling. Her nose and eyes were still intolerably itchy and she felt incredible washed-out. And secondly, seeing an ex-student always served to hammer the nails into her inevitable coffin.

  Susie was in her last two years at school when Beatrice started there. Now, the fact that she had a daughter too… Beatrice took great care to not look in the mirror that hung in her bedroom as she walked past it.

  In truth, it wasn’t the age thing that was bothering her. It was thoughts of Susie and the pain that she must have been going through that cut through Beatrice the most. Beatrice was now closer with her daughter than she had perhaps ever been and she knew that if anything ever happened to her that she would want closure and justice.

  If she had been curious about the circumstances surrounding the car crash before, now her mind was racing with thoughts and theories as to what may have happened. Before, where they were just theories that she knew she would never prove, now, she hungered to see them through to the end.

  And it's not that she didn't care before, because she did, it was just that before she didn’t see any use in getting involved. The local officer, despite how stupid he may have seemed, was onto it and that should have been good enough for Beatrice, but now, well now somehow it just wasn't.

  The fact that the victim, Ms. Lacey Parker, was the daughter of her ex-student, changed everything. Beatrice had always found that she became more invested in a case when there was a personal nature attached. It didn’t get much more personal than this.

  “I know that look,” Stella mused, eyeing Beatrice with a knowing smile. She had been looking around the room with disdain, but catching the look on Beatrice’s face had managed to pull her thoughts from the crummy living conditions, at least for the moment.

  “What look?” Beatrice asked, looking away from her best friend in an attempt to deflect. Although there was no point, Stella knew Beatrice better than she knew the back of her hand. “Hey Sophie, how do you like your room?” Beatrice called out.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Stella said, stepping in between Beatrice and the door that led to Sophie’s room. “Don’t think you can get out of it that easy.”

  “Have you seen my room!?” Sophie exploded as she came charging into Beatrice’s room. She was out of breath and Beatrice got the distinct feeling that Sophie had been jumping up and down on her bed. “I’m going to make a fort later if either of you want to join?”

  “Sorry, Sophie,” Stella interrupted, holding her hand up. “But Beatrice was just about to admit to something and I’d hate to stop her.”

  “Admit to what?” Sophie asked, those big curious eyes staring at her through her glasses. “More brownies? Tell me you have more brownies!”

  Beatrice looked from the innocent face of Sophie to the accusatory stare of Stella, knowing that there was no use in lying. She was going to need their help anyway, so best to get them on her side now. “Fine,” she admitted, throwing her hands up in the air. “You have me.”

  “I knew it,” Stella smirked, crossing her arms on her chest proudly.

  “Have you? How do we have you?” asked Sophie, looking between the two ladies with the utmost confusion on her face.

  “Beatrice is going to try and solve this case,” Stella confirmed for their slow-witted friend. “Tell me I’m wrong?”

  “Oooooohhhh,” Sophie gushed, holding her hands up to her mouth in an act of both shock and awe. “How fun! Can I help?”

  “I have no choice,” Beatrice said, sitting on the edge of her bed. “You saw the face of Susie. How can I not?” Just thinking of how upset her ex-student looked still brought pain to Beatrice’s heart. “Plus, there’s the local law enforcement here that looks as if they can’t tell their hats from their
pants. If you don’t want to help, that’s fine. But I’ve got to. No matter how long it takes.”

  “Now hold on one second,” Stella accused, walking up to the bed and plopping herself down next to Beatrice. “Where did you get the idea that you were doing this alone? In fact, come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever solved a case without our help?”

  “Yeah!” Sophie agreed, crossing her arms and scrunching up her face. “We help all the time!”

  Beatrice beamed at them. She should have never doubted her friends. Better friends didn't exist, and she counted her lucky stars every day that these two were in her life. She was feeling a little guilty over having ruined their vacation but knew that when all of this was over, she would make it up to them, ten-fold.

  “I knew you would,” Beatrice said. “Because I wouldn’t have been able to without you.” She threw her arm around Stella, hugging her. Then Sophie, who obviously wanted to get in on the action, leapt on the bed, sending all three ladies to the floor in a fit of hysterics. The Cookie Club were back at it again.

  ◆◆◆

  “So, who do you think could have done this?” Stella asked. “If I know you, you already have some theories?”

  The three ladies were sitting on the floor to Beatrice's room sipping on glasses of prune juice. Stella had moaned and carried on about how she wanted nothing more than a nice, tall glass of wine, but by the time they got to the shops, everything was closed and they were forced to settle on the prune juice that was left over in the hotel kitchen.

  “I was just asking myself the same thing,” Beatrice said, taking a sip and shuddering as the tart prune juice touched her tongue. She always hated the stereotype that older women loved prune juice. In her mind, nothing could be further from the truth.

  Despite Stella’s confidence in Beatrice’s abilities, she hadn’t a clue as to who may have committed such an atrocious murder, or why. Although in Beatrice’s defense, she hadn't really had a chance to work through anything resembling a clue yet.

  The moment that the ladies had agreed to helping Beatrice out, they had gone their separate ways for an hour. This hour was spent unwinding via showers, baths and bathroom visits. By the time it was all said and done, the three met on the floor in Beatrice’s room, and nothing had changed in the case. Beatrice still had little to nothing to work off.

  “Well, if you ask me, it seemed like a crime of passion. Who would go through such extremes to kill someone unless they were passionate about it?” Beatrice said, half to herself and half to the ladies. The best way to work through a murder case was just to talk it out and eventually something would come. This one was a particularly vicious murder she thought. Whoever was behind it had a point to prove.

  “I agree. It just can't be an accident. The whole thing is too fishy,” Stella added, taking her first sip of the prune juice. Her reaction to the drink was the exact same as Beatrice’s, a violent shudder rolling down her body.

  There was in fact one suspect that Beatrice had in mind, now that she thought about it. The only reason she hadn’t jumped straight to him was that it was far too obvious. Like, so obvious that only an idiot would incriminate himself to such a degree.

  “Speaking of fishy, I think the mechanic is definitely one of the suspects,” Beatrice said, watching the two ladies to see what their reaction would be.

  “Me too!” Sophie gurgled as she drained her glass of prune juice in one, very long mouthful. “Yum! What is this?”

  “Here,” Beatrice said, offering Sophie her own glass of juice. Sophie took the glass eagerly, swigging it much the same as she had her own. “The way the mechanic vanished was extremely strange. I refuse to believe that he didn’t hear that crash when it happened. And did you see how he was constantly checking his watch the whole time we were there?”

  “Well, I hope they track him down and lock him up,” Stella proclaimed, handing her glass of juice across to Sophie who again grabbed at it eagerly. “After the way he treated me, he deserves a cage full of nasty smelling men to set him straight.”

  “If he’s guilty,” Beatrice reminded, and again, she just wasn’t sure. It all seemed a little too neat. But having said that, she wasn’t going to dismiss him entirely either. If the local police officer was anything to go by, the people of this town weren't exactly the brightest paint on the walls, that was except for Susie.

  Poor Susie, Beatrice thought. Every time she thought of Susie and that face, so full of tears, she wanted nothing more than to help. She just hoped that she could.

  “Ok, so what we have to do now is… is… is” trying to get the words out, but Beatrice couldn’t as she suddenly let off a tremendous sneeze, and then another. They were so gigantic in their size that she could have sworn she heard the windows rattling behind her.

  “What was that?” Stella asked, looking at Beatrice like she’d just given birth to an alien creature.

  “I don’t know.” Beatrice said, going for her nose as she felt the distinct sensation of another sneeze working its way up her throat. Her throat was itchy too and a little painful.

  Oh no, Beatrice thought. If she didn’t know any better she would say that she was getting sick. This vacation was getting worse and worse by the minute. She wondered what would happen next.

  6

  That night, Beatrice was subjected to the worst sleep she had had in as long as she could remember. She was up most of the night sneezing or scratching at her itchy throat and when the sun did finally peek through the old, thick curtains in the room, she would have sworn that not so much as an hour of solid sleep was all she had. This was only confirmed by the totally empty, previously full, box of tissues that sat by her bedside.

  It was therefore a relief when the sun finally broke into the room, alerting her to the fact that the night was finally over. Judging by how dim and cold the sun was, it must have still been early morning. Beatrice knew that Stella was never one to get up before at least 10am and judging by the fort that Sophie had made, she knew that not so much as a slither of light would be disturbing her sleep.

  With that in mind, Beatrice contented herself with the fact that she might be able to sneak in another hour or so of sleep, that was of course counting the dozens of times she would need to blow her nose or wipe it on her bedsheets.

  Despite her best efforts, Beatrice was unable to get a wink of extra sleep. The annoying thing was that it had nothing to do with her cold this time. The cause of her still being awake was the racket of a noise that was coming from outside.

  It sounded like a war was raging. With her eyes closed, Beatrice was certain that she could hear bombs going off, gunfire erupting and even helicopters complete with machine guns flying low as they lay waste to the surrounding area. Of course, none of that was really happening. The noise that Beatrice heard was just a simple argument; albeit a very loud one.

  Never one to stick her nose where it didn’t belong, at least not usually, Beatrice had every intention of staying in bed until the argument dissipated. She would have, if it wasn’t for the fact that she recognized one of the voices. Clear as day.

  Shuffling from her bed toward the closed curtains, Beatrice stayed low as she slowly inched the curtains open so she could confirm what she knew to be true. Sure enough, as she peeked outside she spotted Susie, in the middle of a heated argument with none other than the rude mechanic, Buddy. They were standing outside the front of the hotel and by the looks of it, Susie was giving Buddy a real tongue lashing, or at least trying to.

  Unfortunately, it didn't look too much like Buddy cared what Susie had to say. She watched the fight as Susie’s hands flailed wildly, tears returning in full force. She continued to watch as Buddy looked down at Susie with complete disdain, shaking his head before turning his back on her and walking across the road and into his garage.

  Susie, clearly distraught, turned and fled back into the hotel, weeping the whole way.

  Beatrice had always had a bit of a temper in her. It wasn’t anythin
g extreme, or wild. She had never snapped and thrown rocks through the window of someone who had slighted her, or attacked anyone physically, but it was enough of a temper that she was never one to stand around and let herself, or anyone else get taken advantage of.

  Seeing Buddy treat Susie in such a way, especially after what had happened the previous day, got her temper working in overdrive. Before she even had a chance to think things through, she was out the front door and hurrying across the road toward the garage.

  "Wait right there!" Beatrice called out to Buddy just as he was about to duck into his garage. Spotting her, he gave Beatrice such a peculiar look that she forgot for a second how odd she must have looked, considering she was in her bathrobe, slippers and still had her hair rollers in. She conceded that she must have looked quite odd.

  She didn’t care, not only had the mechanic been rude to and upset Susie, but she was suddenly remembering just how sure she was of his involvement in the murder. Right now, she would have given anything for it to have been him, just to wipe that smug smile off his face.

  "What?" he sneered, still giving her a perplexed look.

  "I'll tell you what. You disappeared right after the car crash yesterday," she said as she got right in his face, which she really shouldn't have. Buddy was huge, towering over her like a giant. As much as she tried to intimidate him, she soon realized that was out the window.

  "What car crash?" he asked, his eyes flickering around the open area, careful to not make contact with Beatrice. She knew a liar when she saw one and right now Buddy was hiding something.

  "What car crash he asks? You know very well what car crash. The crash with Susie's daughter. How could you do such a thing?" The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop herself. She hadn’t meant to accuse him, at least not this early in the investigation. She just meant to let him know that she was on to him, that he needed to watch his back, but that was now out the window. So much for the element of surprise.