The next morning, I went for a run on the Riverwalk, hoping to catch Doug coherent and sober.
I found him sitting in the sun next to his bridge, reading.
“Doug!” I called as I approached.
“Sam! Great to see you!” He stood and wiped his hands on his trousers, then set his book down on the pathway next to his foot. I read the title as I attempted to catch my breath. Your Mind on Plants by Michael Pollan. “How is it?” I asked, pointing at the tome.
“Very interesting. I think you’ll want to read this one since you work with herbs and such.”
I nodded, mentally adding the book to my long reading list. Bonnie had left me dozens to help me in my herbalist journey. “I’m glad you’re okay. You were certainly out of it last time I saw you.”
“That was you?”
Placing my hands on my hips, I took a deep breath. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the one who put a blanket over me and turned me to my side.”
“Yes. That was indeed me.” And I’d thought he’d been completely unconscious, but I’d been wrong.
“Thank you,” he said. “You’re very kind. I’ve been meaning to come see you.”
“What for?” I hoped it was to ask for help in getting off the drugs, but sharing with me that he recalled seeing the murderer would be even better.
“I remember someone on the path the day Bonnie died.”
Just as I succeeded in bringing my heartrate down, it amped back up again. “Who? Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” he said hesitantly while he ran his hand over his beard.
“Who?”
“The girl who works with you. The one responsible for the hole in the ozone layer with all the hairspray she uses.”
“Annabelle?”
“Yes.”
“You saw Annabelle that morning?”
He nodded. “I remembered her and Bonnie walking together. Bonnie had on a pink hat and I thought she looked awfully spring-ish for it being fall.”
I longed to question Doug about his thought processes but refrained. There was no way for me to understand his mind. “Are you absolutely certain you saw Annabelle with Bonnie that morning?”
“Not a hundred percent, but I’m fairly confident.”
“So it could’ve been another day?”
“Maybe... but I think it was that day.”
“Were they arguing?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, shrugging. “I didn’t pay close attention to them.”
Something was off. He recalled Bonnie’s hat and equated it to spring, but he couldn’t recall if they were arguing? If they had been and the conversation had been heated enough for Annabelle to kill Bonnie, it would’ve been memorable.
At least to someone who wasn’t on drugs.
“Do you remember anything else?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Just I noticed Annabelle and Bonnie that morning strolling along the Riverwalk.”
“Okay, thanks,” I muttered. “Have a good day, Doug.”
As I continued my jog, I wondered why Annabelle hadn’t told me she’d seen Bonnie that morning. Either Doug had been mistaken on the date, or Annabelle had killed her and was trying to cover it up.
At the end of the Riverwalk, the geese eyed me while I climbed the path leading to the street. Then, an idea hit me on my way back to Sage Advice.
It wasn’t a smart one, but it may shed some light on who had killed Bonnie. I picked up my pace and arrived at the store before Annabelle. After a quick shower, I texted her.
Funeral for Bonnie is today, but we aren’t invited. Family only. And I was going to be there, so I needed to lie to Annabelle on my whereabouts. Have a couple of errands to run. You okay by yourself for a few hours?
I waited for her to answer, although she’d have to be fine on her own whether she liked it or not.
Yes.
Okay. With the store covered, I could put my plan into action.
As I was about to leave, my phone rang. Tinkering on Trucks. Finally, news on my car.
“Hey, Harry,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“First, I wanted to apologize for the delay in getting back to you. My daughter and wife both have had the flu this week, and I haven’t been at the shop as much as I usually am. I’m a bit behind on things.”
“Your family should come first,” I replied. “I hope they’re feeling better.”
“Thanks. About your car…”
Please be totaled. Please be totaled. “What is it?”
“Well, the thing is wrecked and should be scrapped,” he said. “I’m going to let the insurance company know. But Sam... the cops were here yesterday looking at it.”
My blood ran cold while the room suddenly became claustrophobic. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my thundering heart. “Did they say why?”
“No. They were tight-lipped. Just went through the car, then left.”
“Did you happen to get the name of the person who was there?”
“Yeah, it was the sheriff. Mallory’s her name.”
I shut my eyes for a brief moment. Her actions made no sense. Bonnie had been killed the day after my accident. Why was Mallory looking at my car? How could she think it had something to do with Bonnie’s death?
“Thanks, Harry,” I muttered. “I guess the next step is the insurance company will call me?”
“Right. Is everything okay? Why were the police here?”
I contemplated what to say, then shook my head. “I have no idea. That’s my answer to both questions.”
After hanging up, I made myself a green smoothie. Mallory would have to know Harry would call me and tell me she’d been there. Was she really searching the car because she thought it was somehow involved in the murder, which would show an epic level of incompetence, or was she trying to scare me? Make me aware she was sniffing around in every aspect of my life, whether it had anything to do with the murder or not?
Instead of trying to sort her intentions, I focused on the task in front of me. The funeral would be starting soon, and I needed to get into place.
“Be a good boy, Catnip,” I said, closing the door and dashing down the stairs.
After locking up the building, I hurried up to the church. I hadn’t been in one in decades, and I momentarily worried I’d be struck down upon entering.
The stone structure, according to the plaque outside, had been built for use as a Catholic church hundreds of years ago when Heywood had been discovered, but was now non-denominational and all were welcome. I opened the thick, wooden door to find two rows of wooden pews, large stained-glass windows, and past the altar area, ceiling-to-floor windows offering a magnificent view of the river and beyond.
“Oh, wow,” I whispered, wishing I had time to enjoy it. Instead, I glanced around and wondered what side I should choose. Instinctively, I would sit on the right, so I hurried over to the second pew from the back on the left, sank to my knees, and shimmied under the seat. Closing my eyes, I sent up a little prayer I wouldn’t be found, because I had no idea how to explain myself.
The service was supposed to start at eleven. At quarter till, no one had come into the church, but I had heard people moving about up front, which I had to assume was church staff getting everything ready. What if no one showed to celebrate Bonnie’s life?
But a few minutes before eleven, the doors opened and, from my vantage point, I spotted a pair of black high heels. The way she marched down the aisle led me to believe it was Catherine. A few moments later, the door swung open again and I noted cowboy boots and sensible flats. Most likely the Tuppers. Trailing behind them, more practical shoes and a walker. Bonnie’s cousin, I assumed. Then a set of dark, men’s loafers walked by. I had no idea who their owner may be.
“Welcome, everyone,” a deep voice said. Minister Paul, I presumed. In his twenties and more handsome than the day is long, he reminded me of a young Paul Rudd, who I’d met once and found just as charming as he appeared in interviews. “We’re here to celebrate Bonnie’s life.”
As he spoke, I couldn’t help but think it had been prepared remarks, already handed to him. They flowed too well, having too much detail for a minister to pull together. Had Bonnie written her own memorial as well?
“One of Bonnie’s greatest achievements was to remain friends with her former lover, Charlie Tupper, and she felt so blessed Doreen Tupper also accepted their relationship and their daughter, Catherine. Bonnie appreciated the parental team the three of you made.”
Someone snorted and whispered something under their breath. I imagined it to be Catherine.
Minister Paul continued, saying that some of Bonnie’s joys in life included helping people and giving to animal shelters. “As a big believer in second chances and starting over, Bonnie took many under her wing looking to embark on a different path from what they’d previously traveled. This was her passion. Recognizing the good in everyone, and helping those in need.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I lay under the dusty pew. Bonnie had been so kind to me the day I’d walked into Sage Advice, desperate and in need of a new start—and she’d given it to me. What had she seen in me that day? What had prompted her to hire someone who was only a hobby herbalist, when the job had required so much more?
“Does anyone have anything they’d like to say?” Minister Paul asked.
“Bonnie was a wonderful woman. One I’ll miss,” a soft voice said which I didn’t recognize. “She always came to stay with me in Florida for two weeks during the winter. We had a wonderful time together.” Must be the cousin.
Charlie cleared his throat. “Bonnie and I had our ups and downs, but we remained dedicated to raising Catherine. And we agreed to do it without all the fighting and bickering you sometimes find with parents who aren’t together. Through it all we remained good friends. I loved her in my own way and respected her greatly. I’ll miss her.”
“Oh, for the love of God... can we just all stop the lies?” Catherine said. “My mother was a horrible woman and I’m glad she’s dead!”
Silence fell over the church for a long moment, then Doreen spoke. “Catherine, she wasn’t horrible. You’re the problem in every relationship you have. You’ve stolen from not only your father, but from Bonnie as well. Did you think for a moment we’d like to retire, and you taking your father’s money would prevent that from happening? Did you think Bonnie would have liked to spend her last years slaving away in the store? Bonnie wasn’t the issue, Catherine. Take a look in the mirror.”
Catherine let out a string of words that shouldn’t be spoken in any church, regardless of denomination. “Shut up, Doreen. You’re no better than Bonnie, so save your self-righteous indignation for someone who gives two nickels.”
“How dare you!” Doreen yelled.
“I know you and Charlie killed her. The farm’s going under!” Catherine screamed. “Everyone knows! You’re hoping to get your grubby hands on some of her money, but it’s not going to happen. She told me she’s left me everything. Did you hear me? Everything! And I plan to keep every cent and watch you two become homeless! Maybe that creep under the bridge will take you in!”
“I doubt she left you two pennies to rub together,” Doreen muttered.
“We’ll see,” Catherine hissed. “I’ve fulfilled Bonnie’s request to attend this sham of a memorial, and now, I’m leaving.” She stormed out of the church.
I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. In my mind, Catherine’s behavior only solidified she must have killed her mother. I felt like I needed a shower, and it wasn’t from the dust under the pew. Catherine’s vitriol settled on my skin like oil.
“I’m sorry, Minister,” Charlie said. “I apologize for her outburst.”
“If I may, Mr. Tupper... your daughter is a full-grown woman. Her actions are her own. If anyone should apologize for her behavior, it’s her, not you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Charlie replied. “Just not sure how she turned out the way she did.”
As they spoke for a few more minutes, I hoped they’d wrap it up soon. Not only was I having a hot flash, but I also had to use the restroom. Menopause was awesome and seemed to strike at the least opportune times.
Thankfully, the service ended moments later and everyone cleared out of the church. Who in the world did those loafers belong to? Obviously, no one involved in the family drama, because they’d remained quiet throughout the shouting. I waited until the silence became deafening, then slid out from under the pew and peeked around the corner to make sure I was alone.
I stood and hurried outside, glad I’d taken the risk of sneaking into the church. According to Catherine, the farm was going under. Sounded like the perfect motive for murder.
Charlie and Bonnie had remained close for decades. Perhaps at one time they’d had a conversation about wills and leaving money. Had Charlie helped Bonnie’s demise along out of desperation over losing the farm?
But then, Catherine also believed she had a large stake in Bonnie’s estate.
Money.
It had ruined my life and now it appeared Bonnie’s had ended because of it.
Maybe it was the root of all evil.