Eighteen

I yanked open the front door of Season’s Living and stepped outside. The cold air cooled my heated skin. The detective had riled me up good. Cha-ching. The sound made me smile. It signaled that Merry and Bright Handcrafted Christmas received an Etsy order. I hadn’t heard the noise all weekend. I was certain word was getting around about my alleged felonious behavior. I pulled out my phone. Wine glass order. Need before Christmas was in the note section. The date fell within our two-week time frame for completing orders. Good. I hated having to message customers and letting them know their order wouldn’t reach them by the date they requested unless they purchased the rush option. Most felt it was a way to nickel and dime them rather than considering that they weren’t the only open orders on our books.

Pausing on the sidewalk, I texted Bright. Have an order. My phone has been silent since this incident with Samuel started. Starting to think shoppers were avoiding us.

A few moments later, Bright responded. Honey, we were on vacation mode. We voted to put the shop on vacation when either of us are doing a vendor event. Especially during the high season. Since it was a slow event, I knew it was safe to open for custom orders as we didn’t have to replenish stock for the event in two weeks.

Being accused of murder had my brain in a tailspin. I headed for my vehicle. I totally forgot the shop was shifted into vacation mode, thereby not allowing us to receive orders. It was the best choice for us. Can’t believe I forgot.

Understandable. Hope we get some more cha-chings today.

Me too.

I dropped my phone into my pocket and folded up the utility cart. I started to wrangle it into the back of my SUV when I felt someone breathing down my neck. Jerking around, it slipped from my hand and landed on my foot. I yelped and glared at my potential stalker. Bonnie. My big toe throbbed. A tip of the folded cart had smashed onto it. Thankfully, I was wearing boots, or my toe would’ve likely been broken. I couldn’t afford a foot injury. I had a roof to decorate. It was a heck of a time getting up the ladder with a wreath and Santa, his sleigh, and eight not so tiny reindeer with two good feet. I hated to envision the project with a broken foot.

“Sorry,” she said, not appearing the least bit apologetic.

“It’s not good to sneak up on people.”

“Maybe that’s what happened to Samuel. Snuck up on someone and she…I mean he or she…killed him in their frightened state.”

That’s how she was going to play this. Fine. She wasn’t in her work uniform. “Or someone got in trouble for allowing her husband to see a patient he was forbidden to visit and was fired for it and now has time to accost people in a parking lot.” Take that.

Tears filled her eyes. “My husband was found murdered Friday night. I was given leave.”

I was a horrible person. It was my turn to apologize. “I’m sorry, Bonnie, that was uncalled for. It’s been stressful lately. Probably more so for you. Samuel visited my mom on Thursday and upset her.”

“Who let him?” Fire burned in her eyes. “It’s in Gloria’s chart that Samuel and strangers aren’t permitted to speak with her one on one. I will talk to human resources and the patient care team and have it investigated for Gloria.”

Either she was good actress, or I had it all wrong. The woman was livid on behalf of my mother. “Doctor Yielding is checking into what happened. You came over to talk with me because…” I trailed off.

“To ask for a copy of the divorce decree. The insurance agent is still stone-walling me. The date and signatures on the wedding license are blurred. I was going to make a fresh copy of our wedding license, but Samuel sent it to get framed, and the two places in town that do framing don’t have it. If I can get a copy of the decree, the date on it could help settle everything.”

“Knowing Samuel, he found a cheaper place online and sent it. Did you check his computer?”

“Can’t. Detective Grayson took it as evidence.”

My curiosity overtook good judgment. “What else did he take?”

“Lock box where we kept our documents. Financial records he kept at the house. Can I stop by your house to get a copy?”

I hated admitting the truth especially since Bonnie stood up for my mom. “I don’t have one.”

Rage sparked in her eyes. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging through my coat into my arm. Those things were a weapon. “Then get one.”

“When I have time.” I gripped her wrist. “Let me go.”

Bonnie stared at her hand as if she didn’t know how it got there. She shoved her hands into her coat pocket. “I’ll keep asking you until you do.”

“Call Milton.” I threw my attorney to the she-devil. I had paid him a small fortune for the divorce since Samuel dragged it out.

“I have. He won’t return my calls.”

Couldn’t say I blamed him if she left a message using the same tone of voice. It was Thanksgiving week. The beginning of hunting season. “He’s out hunting. He usually comes back home Wednesday as his wife would kill…” The ugly word stopped me cold. How easy it was said. I was going to work on taking it out of my everyday vocabulary. “Would be very upset if he wasn’t home for Thanksgiving.”

Bonnie covered her face with her hands and released a heartbroken moan. “I just want to bury my husband.”

“Helen, Samuel’s mom. He tells her everything and stores things at her house. I bet she has the divorce decree.”

“Why would Samuel give his mother his divorce decree?”

“She’s making a never-ending scrapbook for him.” Or at least it had been never-ending. My heart broke for her. A mother should never have to complete the scrapbook of their child’s life.

“She hates me. There’s no way she’d help me.”

“That’s not true,” I said, not quite knowing if I was telling the truth. Helen had not been happy with Samuel when we divorced. She assumed, rightly, that it was all his fault and told him in no uncertain terms he was an idiot. Samuel had been shocked. He was the quintessential momma’s boy and it was the first time she chose another person over him.

“She didn’t like me when we were married and hates me more now that Samuel is dead. She thinks I’m setting you up and is telling whoever she can.”

“She told you that?”

“Not in those words.”

“I’ll stop by Helen’s for you and see if she has a copy.”

It was Monday. Errand day and Helen had no one to take her, unless Cassie stopped by to check on her grandmother, but I had a feeling the girl was deep in anger and grief and had no thoughts for anyone else. Since Helen was still thinking fondly of me, she might give a hint about Samuel’s possible newly attained wealth.

  

Before I drove to Helen’s house, I called Brett. I adjusted the heat in my SUV. The temperature was dropping. I hoped he had time to meet for lunch before he headed back to Virginia. I wanted to know what the judge said. Then again, it might be better not to be out in public when we discussed my case.

He answered on the third ring. “Be brief. I’m in Alexandria. Emergency hearing. Had to postpone the meeting in Season’s Greetings to tomorrow.”

When you had an in demand, hotshot attorney, you weren’t at the top of the list. “The RV was trashed, local police have it under protective custody. Some guy named Gary Meadows posted on Samuel’s Facebook that he told him trouble follows. And, I had a run-in with Detective Grayson. He was interviewing my mother.”

“He was what? Hold on.” Brett excused himself. A door opened and closed.

I shifted in the driver’s seat, jotting down some ideas for some new Christmas gifts onto the notebook I kept on the passenger seat. My best ideas always seemed to come at the most inconvenient times. If I waited to write them down, they’d vanish, no matter how much I believed that I wouldn’t forget them. I never remembered any of my great ideas at a later point in time, but the bad ones always reappeared over and over.

Brett returned to our phone conversation. “Detective Grayson questioned your mother? A woman diagnosed with dementia and living in a memory care unit.”

Tears rushed into my eyes. I swiped them away. “Yes. He says questioning, but my mother said he was blaming her for Samuel’s death.”

“That’s improbable.”

“That’s what the detective said. He insists my mother misunderstood. For some reason, he believes my mother was the last person to see Samuel alive.”

“Why does he think that?”

“Samuel was at Season’s Living on Thursday morning. Another guy confirmed he was there that day but said Samuel didn’t come into my mom’s room.”

“Stay away from the detective.”

“I’m not going to him. He’s going to my mom. I won’t let him harass her.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“What if he does it again before you can take care of it? You’re busy.”

“Merry, have I ever let you down?”

I bit my lip. When he was helping me wasn’t the time to remind this ex-husband of all the times he hadn’t.

“I withdraw that question. If the detective comes around, you tell him to call your attorney. Nothing else. No matter what he says or asks, the response is call my attorney. I’ll be in Season’s Greetings tomorrow. I’ll call Season’s Living and advise the staff to call me immediately if an officer comes to speak with your mother.”

“You’re my mother’s attorney too?” Brett was picking up a lot of new clients: me, Grace, Abraham, my mom.

“If the detective makes it necessary, yes. I’ll be sure to fill his superiors in on why Detective Grayson doesn’t want to make that a necessity. On the other issues, I’ll contact the local police and see if they have any theories on who vandalized your RV. I’ll have members of my team investigate Gary Meadows. Stay off Samuel’s Facebook page. A detective just might place something on the deceased’s timeline to prove that an ex-wife is fibbing when she said she had nothing to do with the man.”

“I know how I can prove that I wrote the correct day. My neighbor Cornelius Sullivan. He started a post on the Season’s Greetings Facebook page complaining about the RV being in front of my house. If I had it there Thursday night, he’d have called the cops then. Just like he did last night when Grace and I were unloading it. He fussed about it Friday morning when Cassie drove it to me.”

“There’s some good news.”

I kept friend requesting Gary Meadows to myself.