“You’re wondering how you’re going to explain how someone looked at this quilt and recognized some of the fabric as the same fabric from the blouse worn by the remains found years ago, in the Jameson root cellar.”
MacDonald leaned back in the desk chair and studied Danielle, who stood over his desk, looking down at him. He smiled at her. “And you’re going to tell me?”
Danielle grinned. “Of course. You see, after Lily gave me this quilt, I was curious about its history. Who made it? Someone obviously made it with love for twins. But who?” Danielle began pacing the office. “So I did my Nancy Drew thing and eventually ended up talking to Gemma Francas, the second wife of Dan Francas. She told me Dan’s first wife, Betsy, had made the quilt for their twins.” Danielle stopped pacing and looked at the chief.
“Go on.”
Danielle resumed her pacing and explanation. “Gemma told me Betsy abandoned her twins—simply walked off and left her husband and babies. Now, I might understand her actions if she’d had postpartum depression. Women can do horrible things under postpartum depression. Things they would normally never do.” Danielle stopped pacing and looked back at the chief.
“Go on.”
“I couldn’t accept that someone who made this beautiful quilt, that was obviously made with love for her babies, would just walk away forever. Eventually, she would have come back. Yes, some women, some mothers, abandon their children. But I didn’t feel it was the case with Betsy. So I started looking to see what had become of her. I couldn’t find a divorce decree for her marriage. I found that odd, considering Gemma claimed they married two years after Betsy took off. Heather talked to her brother for me, and he never heard from her again. So I asked myself, did something else happen to Betsy? Something more sinister.”
MacDonald smiled at Danielle. “And what did you tell yourself?”
“Well, while looking for information on Betsy, I discovered they stayed at Elenore Percy’s house when they moved to town.”
MacDonald arched his brows. “Didn’t Marie tell you that? Or did she mention that before she died?”
Danielle smiled sweetly. “Marie? Umm no. It wasn’t her. Someone mentioned that when I started asking people about Betsy, but I can’t recall who it was. Anyway, this person also mentioned that Elenore Percy’s house was next door to the Jameson house, where the police found a body in the root cellar years ago. So I started wondering, could it be Betsy?”
“Interesting. And convenient. And then what did you do?”
“I came to you, of course. Started nagging you to let me see the old files on the case, and from the photos, I recognized the fabric in your Jane Doe’s blouse.”
“That is some impressive Nancy Drewing and creative writing there.”
“Well, are we going to identify the remains and inform those young women that their mother did not abandon them? She loved them.”
MacDonald sat up straighter at his desk. “Did Betsy tell you who murdered her?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure who it was.”
* * *
Danielle sat in the evidence room, flipping through the photographs the chief had given her. They had been taken back when Betsy’s body had been found in the root cellar. He hadn’t shown her all the photographs taken that day, only the ones that included clear shots of her clothing. The chief had left her alone in the room so he could go take a phone call.
“The chief told me what you were doing.”
Danielle looked up and saw Brian Henderson had just walked into the room.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?” He glanced at the pile of photographs. “Gruesome pictures?”
“Nah. The chief left out the gruesome ones. He also showed me the actual blouse.”
“I know. He told me.”
“It’s the same fabric. Of course, it’s not in terrific shape, but clearly the same fabric as what’s in the quilt.”
“The chief wants me to interview Gemma Francas.”
Danielle turned in her chair and faced Brian. “Really?”
“Yes. And he wants you to go with me.”
Danielle arched her brows. “I’d love to, but that surprises me. Why would he want me to go with you?”
“Because you’ve already talked to her. That way, she’ll be less inclined to walk back some of the things she told you that she may not want to tell me. Once I tell her Betsy was murdered and didn’t leave that day, I imagine she’ll want to change her story.”
“You aren’t bringing her into the station to question her?”
“Later. But the chief feels, and I agree, we might get more out of her if we approach this as a more friendly and casual chat. You up to it?”
“When do you want to do it?”
“Today?”
“Umm, can I go home first? It’s almost time to feed the babies.”
Brian nodded. “No problem. You go home; call me when you’re ready. I have to take the chief home, anyway.”
* * *
Had Gemma Francas looked out her peephole and seen a police officer standing on her front porch with Danielle Marlow, she probably wouldn’t have answered the door. But she had just walked out to her mailbox to pick up her mail when the police car pulled up in front of her house and parked.
She acted surprised to see Danielle get out of the car with the policeman. Gemma removed her mail from the box while she watched Danielle and the officer walk toward her. She recognized the officer but couldn’t remember his name.
“Danielle Marlow? What’s going on?” Gemma asked when Danielle reached her, the officer by her side.
“Hello, Mrs. Francas. This is a friend of mine, Brian Henderson, with the Frederickport Police Department.”
Brian handed Gemma his business card. “Hello, Mrs. Francas. I need to ask you a few questions, and when I heard Danielle knew you, I asked her to come with me so you could have someone familiar with you, to make you more comfortable, considering what I have to tell you.”
Gemma frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Can we go inside and talk?” Brian asked gently.
Gemma reluctantly turned around and led the pair to her house. A few minutes later, the three sat at Gemma’s kitchen table.
“So, what do you need to tell me?” Gemma asked.
“I hate to have to tell you this,” Brian began, “but someone you knew, who I understand was a close friend of yours, was murdered. Your husband’s first wife, Betsy Francas.”
Gemma shook her head in denial. “No. That can’t be true.”
“Her body has tentatively been identified. While taking additional steps to confirm her identity, we need to question people who were close to Betsy. I understand you were childhood friends.”
“Umm…yes. When did she die?”
“It looks like you may be one of the last people to have seen her alive. Other than the murderer, of course.”
“Are you suggesting Betsy has been dead all these years?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I understand you and your husband married about two years after his wife disappeared?”
Gemma stared at Brian for a moment. Finally, she said, “She left willingly. It wasn’t as if she was missing.”
“I understand. And you were married two years later?” Brian asked.
Gemma didn’t answer immediately, but looked anxiously from Brian to Danielle, back to Brian. Finally, she said, “You’ll find out anyway. Dan and Betsy never divorced. He wanted to divorce her and legally marry me, but we didn’t know where to find her. We obviously didn’t know she was dead. And since we couldn’t find her, Dan couldn’t get a divorce.”
“It is possible to get a divorce if one spouse goes missing,” Brian said.
Gemma shrugged. “Well, Dan didn’t want to go through all that. I suppose if we lived in a state with common law marriage, which Oregon doesn’t have, we would be legally married anyway if what you say is true about Betsy.”
“What color hair did Betsy have?” Brian asked.
Gemma frowned at Brian. “She was a strawberry blonde. Just like her daughters. They look just like her.”
“Where are they now?” Brian asked.
Gemma shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t seen them for years. They didn’t even bother coming to their father’s funeral.”
“I understand Betsy came to you and told you she was leaving her husband and babies.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about that day.”
Gemma glanced again at Danielle and back to Brian. “I stopped over at her house.”
“Now this was when they were staying at Elenore Percy’s house, correct?” Brian asked.
“Yes.” Gemma froze for a moment, glanced at Danielle, and then continued, “Betsy, Dan, and I had been friends since childhood. We were all very close. And then Betsy married Dan. She had the twins, and he got a job here. My parents died a few months before Betsy and Dan announced they were moving. When they left Vancouver, I felt so alone, so I decided to move here too. I didn’t tell them. I wanted to surprise them. But when I showed up at the house, umm…Betsy was not acting like herself. The quilt she had made during her pregnancy was sitting on her kitchen table, all folded up neatly. She told me she couldn’t do this anymore. I didn’t know what to say. She just took her ring off, set it on the quilt, and left. At the time, I assumed it was postpartum depression, and that she’d come back.”
“And you told her husband what happened when he came home.”
Gemma nodded.
“How did he react?”
“He was devastated, of course.”
“Did you stay with him that night?” Brian asked.
Gemma looked taken aback at the question. “What are you suggesting?”
“I think Brian meant to take care of the babies. You told me you stayed to take care of them,” Danielle reminded her.
Gemma shook her head. “No, I didn’t spend the night at the house. I just came over when he was at work.”
“Do you have any idea where Betsy went after she left the house?”
“No.”
“Did she leave in her car?” Brian asked.
“No. They only had one car, and Dan had taken it to work. Someone picked her up.”
“Who?”
Gemma shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it was a man, but I’m not sure.”
“Can you describe the car?”
“That was such a long time ago. I don’t remember.”
“I’m wondering.” Brian sat back in the chair. “That night, after you returned home, perhaps Betsy came back. Perhaps to pick up something she left, or she had a change of heart. But when Dan saw her, he was too angry to talk and lashed out. Things got out of hand. And then he carried her body next door and buried it in the root cellar. I’ve checked, and no one was living on the Jameson property during that time, and that’s where we found the remains that we believe are Betsy Francas, and we’ll verify it once the DNA test is complete.”
Gemma stood up and glared at Brian. “Are you going to accuse an innocent man who is not here to defend himself?”
“You don’t believe it’s possible Dan murdered Betsy?” Brian asked.
“Absolutely not! He was the most loving and gentle man. He would never hurt a soul.”
“Then do you have any idea who might have killed Betsy?”
Gemma sat back down in the chair. “How would I know? I had just arrived in Frederickport.”
“They found her body a short distance from where you last saw her.”
Gemma shook her head. “Dan didn’t kill her.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to kill her,” Danielle said.
“He didn’t kill her.” Gemma began to cry. “You won’t sully Dan’s name. He was the best man I ever met.” Tears streamed down her face, and she turned to Brian. “He was my friend, too. But it wasn’t enough for Betsy to just marry him. She convinced him to find a job here and move away from Vancouver. She didn’t care that I had just lost my parents and would be all alone. And when I came to surprise her, she was angry with me. Accused me of trying to come between her and her husband. I couldn’t believe what she was saying, and I became angry too. I slapped her. She stumbled. Fell. Hit her head. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Gemma folded her arms on the table and buried her face in her arms as she sobbed hysterically.
Danielle and Brian looked at each other in silence, both surprised at Gemma’s confession.