Murder at the Church: Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series Page 6

  As the song ended, they stopped swaying to the music and simply held onto each other. Linc lowered his lips to Brigid’s and kissed her. Not in the same way they’d kissed before. No, this time it felt different. As their mouths melded together, it was almost as if they were wrapping themselves in the other person. Getting lost in those places that had yet to be explored.

  The next song on the playlist was a much more upbeat tune. Linc released Brigid, so that he could go turn the music volume back down. “Thank you for the dance,” he said. There was a charge in the air that neither one of them could deny.

  “Thank you for asking,” she said, feeling her face redden. What is this all about? she thought. I’m too old to blush like a young teenage girl. Especially since we’ve been seeing each other for several months now.

  “Alright, alright boy.” They heard James’ voice as the back door opened. “Hold your horses.”

  Jett came scrambling into the house, rushing over to Brigid’s side. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she bent over and began to scratch the big dog’s ears.

  Marilyn, who was right behind James, stepped into the kitchen and shut the door. “You should have seen it,” she said with a laugh. “We were sitting out there in the dark, just enjoying the nighttime noises when this owl flew up and landed on a branch nearby. Jett was interested in it until it started hooting,” Marilyn said, laughing harder. “And then it scared the dickens out of him, and he went scrambling towards the house.”

  James laughed loudly and slapped his knee, “I’ve never seen anything like it. I feel sorry for the poor guy, but it was still hilarious to watch.” He walked over to Jett and patted his head. “It’s alright, Jett. That mean old owl won’t hurt you.” He looked up at Linc and Brigid. “I think we’re going to head off to bed. We’ve got a bit of jet lag. It was wonderful meeting you, Brigid. Will we see you tomorrow morning before we leave?”

  She turned and looked at Linc who shrugged as if to say, “Up to you.”

  “Yes, I can come over,” she said turning back to James.

  “Wonderful,” James said. “I’ll cook breakfast for everyone. Why don’t you bring Jett, too?” The older man nodded to her, as both James and Marilyn said their goodnights.

  “I think it’s time Jett and I should probably be going home, too,” Brigid said, as Linc began rinsing plates and loading them in the dishwasher.

  “You don’t have to,” he said drying his hands on a dish towel and turning around. He walked over to Brigid and put his hands on her hips. “You could always spend the night here.”

  “With your parents just down the hall?” she asked incredulously. “Are you crazy?”

  “Well, it’s not like we’re teenagers,” he said as he kissed her.

  “That’s true, but I wouldn’t feel right…” she began.

  “I never said we had to do anything.” He smiled. “I just want to hold you tonight.”

  Brigid was tempted, but it didn’t seem appropriate to her. Not with his parents under the same roof. “Sorry, I just wouldn’t feel comfortable,” she said in a decisive manner.

  “Your call,” he said kissing her again, “but you can’t blame a guy for trying. By the way, you look gorgeous tonight. I love the dress.”

  “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  He looked down at his dark maroon dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. “These old things? I just threw them on,” he said with a laugh.

  “Why don’t you let me help you clean up the rest of this before we leave?”

  “No, I’ve got it,” he said returning to the sink and continuing to rinse the dinner dishes.

  “Well in that case, I better get Jett home before he decides he’s tired and won’t get back up. We both know it’s impossible to move him once he’s down for the night. What time would you like us to come over in the morning?” Brigid asked as she collected her things.

  “Dad usually gets up around 6:00,” Linc said. “So around 6:30 will probably be good. I know you get up early, too, so I assume that’s not a problem. Work for you?”

  “We’ll be here,” she said. She walked over to him and bumped her hip against his. “I better go, but Linc, I have to tell you how cute you would look in an apron. There’s nothing sexier than a man who does the dishes.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he said, grinning. “Just an apron?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Frank Sterling sat in his recliner reading a book about caring for aged parents. He never thought he’d be in this position, but here he was. He looked across the living room at his father who was sitting in his wheelchair watching Wheel of Fortune. The old man had really gone downhill in the last few years. Ever since that woman, Maggie Lewis, had come into his life. Just thinking about her made his blood boil.

  When his father was still living in his own home, he’d hired people to help him out as part of the disability care he received. After the first woman had to quit because she’d had a baby and needed more hours, Frank’s dad had hired Maggie. At first things were going really well. She kept his dad’s house clean, prepared his meals, and overall did a very good job, but then things went downhill. Frank began to notice that things were missing.

  His father, Paul, had explained the missing things away by telling Frank that he was trying to get rid of all the excess things he’d accumulated over the years. “I don’t need all this stuff,” Paul had said. “The time has come to get rid of it. I’m not going to be around forever, you know.”

  Frank hadn’t thought very much about it after their conversation. He wasn’t overly concerned, because the things weren’t valuable or of interest to him, such as an old lawnmower and various decorative items. For a while, Frank believed what his father had said, that he was just clearing things out. He’d done the same thing himself from time to time.

  It all changed the afternoon he visited his father and noticed that his mother’s favorite crystal vase was gone. That was when he knew something was very, very wrong. The vase had always been next to his deceased mother’s picture, because she’d treasured it. Frank’s mother and father had received it as a wedding gift from her great-grandmother. Frank knew there was absolutely no way his father would have gotten rid of it.

  “I’m not sure what happened to it,” his father had responded when Frank asked him what happened to it. “Are you sure it wasn’t just moved to another table?” The old man was clearly confused, and Frank hadn’t wanted to upset him, so he hadn’t pushed it.

  After that, every time Frank visited his father, he looked around to see what was still in his father’s house. And every time, he noticed that something else was gone. A lot of the things his father no longer needed had been put away in the attic for safekeeping, so he wasn’t sure if some of the missing items were up there. He had no plausible reason to go up there, so he hoped that the help had put things up there. But when Frank went into his father’s office and looked at the checkbook that was on his father’s desk, he knew something serious was amiss.

  “Maggie told me MediCorp had been running late paying her,” his father had said when Frank asked him why he was writing checks to Maggie. “From time to time I gave her some money just to help her out. She told me she’d deposit the money back into my account.”

  Maggie had never made a deposit to Paul’s bank account, instead, she’d bled his father dry. Frank had no choice but to move his father in with his wife and him and sell his father’s home. Unfortunately, by then Paul had dementia, and it had worsened to the point he was withdrawn and barely able to care for himself. He wouldn’t eat or bathe unless forced to. He became confined to a wheelchair and barely spoke to anyone. Paul had lost the will to live.

  Frank was reading the paper while Paul, staring at the television set, began to cough uncontrollably, saliva dripping from his lower lip. Frank rushed over to his father and pulled a handkerchief out to wipe off his father's chin. He looked at his watch and decided, even though it was a little early
, he could give his father his next dose of medicine. He sighed as he walked over to the counter to get his father’s pillbox.

  If that woman hadn’t taken almost all of dad’s money, I could afford to find a nice nursing home for him, Frank thought. Instead, I have to sit here and watch him slowly die.

  He took two pills out of the case and poured a small glass of juice. He walked over to where his father was and said, “Time for your medicine, Dad.” He held out the pills and the cup of juice. The old man looked up at him as if wondering who Frank was and why he was giving him pills. Paul finally popped the pills in his mouth and washed them down with a drink of juice. Frank took the glass from him and walked back to the sink. He rinsed the glass out and put it in the dish drain.

  Frank had tried to have Maggie arrested for stealing, but since his father had signed the checks, the sheriff had just shrugged his shoulders and apologized, explaining that there wasn’t much he could legally do.

  His wife, Eve, had taken it all in her stride. She did her best to help take care of the older man, but most of the caregiving fell on Frank’s shoulders. After all, it was his father, not hers. As time went on, it became more and more stressful for both of them. He and Eve barely saw each other. She had to switch to working nights at their store, while he worked days. It was the only thing they could do, because someone had to be with Paul around the clock, but it wasn’t easy on either of them.

  Frank opened one of the kitchen cabinets and took out a can of beef stew for Paul’s dinner. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep all this up. What made it even worse was knowing Maggie Lewis was out there running around without a care in the world. She’d ruined his father’s life, and Frank was worried that the situation might ruin his own marriage. He didn’t understand how the woman could live with herself.

  He’d heard rumors about other things that she’d done, but they were just that, rumors. Nobody seemed to know if there was any truth to them. And those who did know wouldn’t admit that they’d been taken advantage of by Maggie Lewis and made to look like a fool.

  Frank understood how they felt. He didn’t feel like telling everyone she’d swindled his dad out of a lot of money. Instead, he and Eve told people they felt it was an honor to be able to care for the ailing man and make sure he was treated well in his last years. In reality, they were caring for him because they couldn’t afford to put him in a nursing home. He knew the resentment he felt about looking after his father, whom he loved dearly, was wrong, but it was eating him up inside.

  As he was opening the can of stew and putting it into a bowl to heat in the microwave, Frank felt his ever-present anger boiling up to the surface. He knew Maggie had hurt countless people. The only thing she deserved was to be in as much pain as the people she’d hurt. And now that she’d supposedly turned over a new leaf, how come she got all the kindness and forgiveness, when those she’d swindled were left to deal with the consequences of her wrongdoing? It wasn’t fair.

  He put the bowl in the microwave, set the timer, and then walked over to the window in the back door and looked out. The sun was slipping behind the mountains, turning the sky dark blue. He couldn’t stop thinking about Maggie. She needed to pay for what she’d done. She’d been responsible for his father’s decline and taken away Frank and Eve’s happiness. The only thing she deserved was for someone to do the same to her.

  Looking out the window, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him and planted an idea in his mind. “That’s exactly what she deserves,” he whispered to himself, “for someone to put an end to her.” He became so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even hear the microwave beeping, letting him know his father’s beef stew was ready.

  CHAPTER 9

  The next morning Brigid was up bright and early, much earlier than was usual for her. If she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten up this early. She wanted to take a shower and be fresh before she went to Linc’s house. Looking back on the evening before, she felt it had really been successful. She’d liked his parents, and they seemed to like her. It made her feel a bit more confident in her relationship with Linc. She knew at her age she probably shouldn’t care, but even so, she was glad.

  She pulled her hair back in a loose bun and put on a pair of black leggings and a tunic. When she returned from Linc’s house she planned to go through her closet. She’d already taken a quick look and found a number of things she felt Maggie’s daughter, Holly, would look great in.

  “Ready to go, Jett?” Brigid asked as she walked into the great room. In response he bounded off of his loveseat and met her at the front door. A few moments later they walked through the front door of Linc’s house.

  “Good morning,” Linc said giving her a quick kiss.

  “And good morning to you,” she said with a smile. “It smells wonderful in here.”

  “That’s because Dad went all out this morning. I think he’s trying to impress you,” Linc whispered as he led her to the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Brigid, Jett,” James said as they entered the kitchen.

  “Hello,” she said warmly. “I don’t know what you’re cooking, but it smells wonderful.”

  Jett woofed in response to James’ greeting.

  “Good. We’re having pancakes, eggs, and a bacon quiche Lorraine. There’s also milk or orange juice, or both.”

  “Let me fix your plate,” Linc said. “There’s this special way Dad likes us to eat our eggs and pancakes. The eggs have to be on top of the pancakes, and you can’t put the maple syrup on until the eggs have been eaten. He started doing it when we were kids as a way to get us to eat eggs, and it hasn’t changed after all these years. The quiche is an old family favorite. Dad got up earlier than usual to make it this morning.” He took a plate from the cabinet.

  “It sounds wonderful,” Brigid said, smiling.

  “Go ahead and sit down. What would you like to drink?” Linc asked. “In addition to the milk and orange juice, there’s coffee, and of course, water.

  “I’ll have orange juice, please,” she said as she joined Marilyn at the table.

  They greeted each other and a moment later Brigid looked over her shoulder at the men and said, “I could definitely get used to this.”

  “It’s an Olson man thing,” Marilyn said as she sipped her coffee. “They love to cook.”

  The two women chatted while the men served them breakfast. For the next few minutes, everyone was quiet, simply enjoying their breakfast.

  “James, this quiche is fantastic. I’d love to have the recipe, if you’re inclined to share it,” Brigid said as she took her last bite of it.

  “I’d consider it an honor and it’s about the easiest thing in the world to make. When we’re finished with breakfast, I’ll write it down for you. I’ve made it so often, I know the recipe by heart.”

  “Thank you, and I definitely will be making it. My sister would love it.”

  When they were finished, Marilyn and Jim took turns telling funny stories about Linc when he was young. Although Linc laughed, Brigid could tell he was embarrassed.

  “Your parents are a lot of fun. I loved the stories about you when you were young,” Brigid told Linc as she was helping him clean up the breakfast dishes. James and Marilyn had left the kitchen to pack, since it was almost time for Linc to drive them back to the airport in Denver.

  “I’ve never seen them so excited,” he finally said. “They must really like you to tell you all those stories. And to think Dad made his special quiche just for you. That’s impressive.” He looked at her fondly. “I don’t know why I was so nervous about you meeting them.”

  “Me neither,” Brigid said as she handed him the last plate. “I’ll say goodbye to your parents, and then Jett and I are going to head out. I need to go through my closet and clean it out.”

  “Oh?” Linc asked. “What for?”

  “I met this mother and daughter who are struggling financially. I told them they could have
some clothes of mine that I never wear to freshen up their wardrobe. They’re roughly the same size as I am. I think I’ll ask Fiona, too. She may have some stuff she’s ready to get rid of. It’s always so much easier to get rid of things when you know they’re going to worthy people,” Brigid said with a sigh.

  “That’s extremely generous of you. Let me know if you need any help with it,” he said.

  “I will.” She turned and kissed him on the cheek. She heard suitcases being pulled down the hall, and a few minutes later she met his parents in the great room and smiled at them. “Jett and I are going to leave now,” she said. “I’m so glad I got to meet you.”

  Marilyn and James hugged her. “We’re glad we had a chance to meet you, and Jett, too,” Marilyn said. She leaned in and whispered, “We need someone to keep an eye on Linc for us.” She winked for emphasis.

  “I heard that, Mom,” Linc said as he walked into the room.

  Brigid waved and said her goodbyes while they said goodbye to Jett. She stepped out the door and into the cool morning air, sorry to see them go.

  *****

  By lunchtime, Brigid had gone through her closet and felt good about what she’d gotten rid of. From the looks of it, she thought she’d probably gotten rid of almost half of her wardrobe. Two trash bags, completely filled, sat on her bed, ready to go. She’d also thrown in a few purses she hadn’t used in a while. She had a habit of keeping the old ones for “just in case.” She hated to admit it, but “just in case” had never come. It seemed like a good time to let them go.

  Amazingly, her stomach began to growl. She didn’t know how her body could think it was hungry after such a big breakfast. She pulled out her phone to text her sister. She’d texted Fiona earlier, asking if she had any clothes she wanted to donate to a worthy cause. She knew Fiona didn’t open the bookstore until later on Saturdays, so Brigid thought she’d probably had time to go through her closet earlier that morning.