Cut to the Corpse (26 page)

“Well, congratulations are in order I expect,” she said.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jake said. “Now since we won’t be having a big wedding, I asked Dad if we could have the money you set aside for our wedding for the house, and he said it was fine by him but I should ask you.”

“Oh, well, let’s discuss it outside,” Margie said.

Her eyes were wide and she glanced at the other ladies in the room. Brenna knew she must be wondering what everyone thought of this sudden turn of events. To reassure her, Brenna gave her a big grin before she turned to the refreshment table in order to give the family some privacy.

The Porter sisters were almost falling out of their chairs in their efforts to hear what was happening, so Brenna took them both by the elbows and asked, “Scone? Tea? How about it ladies?”

Ella sent her a withering glance and Marie sighed as if still enthralled with Jake’s speech.

Brenna had just taken a teacup off of the tray when she heard Tara whisper to Tenley, “Since my parents posted his bail, Jake refuses to ask them for any help with the house. He has such integrity. Luckily, the owners of the bungalow are looking to get out, so we’re getting quite a steal. The Realtor said fifteen thousand would be an excellent down payment. I am so excited.”

“You should be,” Tenley said. “It’s really wonderful news.”

Brenna watched the door shut after Margie and Jake. A dull thud in her chest made her peer out the window after them. Margie was standing on the sidewalk, wearing her usual khaki skirt and scrubs top.

Today, however, she was wearing loafers instead of those old boots of Jake’s she’d been stomping around in. The ones she had said she was going to donate to the rummage sale, the ones Brenna had teased her about getting hot pink laces for, the same ones that had been worn to commit a murder.

She watched Margie enfold Jake in a hug, fierce, almost as if she were saying good-bye. A roaring noise filled her ears and as it grew louder, Brenna clutched the edge of the refreshment cart and put her teacup down with shaky fingers. Fifteen thousand dollars was a lot of money, the kind of money that could buy a Harley Fat Boy outright.

She didn’t pause to consider her actions, she just felt herself move across the floor.

“Brenna!” Tenley called after her, but she ignored her. She had a killer to catch.

Margie had left Jake, who had gone back to help his father, and was headed across the green toward the bank.

“Margie, wait!” Brenna called.

Margie glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met Brenna’s, but instead of slowing down, she broke into a run.

Her knees screamed in protest, but Brenna didn’t slow down. She dashed across the street after Margie. There was a screech of brakes and a car honked at her but Brenna kept going. She left the cement walkway and cut across the grass, vaulting over bundles of tarps still to be set up for tomorrow’s event.

Jake and John Haywood glanced up from the booth they were erecting and stared as first Margie and then Brenna ran by them.

“Margie, stop!” Brenna yelled. She was gaining on her, and managed to grab her arm and spin her around. They were both wheezing from the spontaneous sprint and Brenna’s head was pounding as the blood rushed into her bruised temple.

“It was you,” Brenna said. She was gasping for breath but she didn’t let go of Margie’s elbow. The older woman tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but Brenna held firm.

“You can’t prove anything,” Margie protested as she bent over to catch her breath.

“The money,” Brenna said. “The amount Jake asked you for is the same amount Clue expected to be paid for doing an ‘odd job.’ Was the odd job to drug his best friend’s fiancée and make it look as if they’d slept together?”

“No!” Margie protested. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

Margie’s eyes opened wide at her own admission of guilt. The Haywood men were crossing the green toward them, and Margie started to panic. Brenna tightened her hold.

“What happened, Margie?” Brenna asked. “How did it all go wrong?”

Margie sagged as if the fight was seeping out of her.

“He was supposed to seduce her, not drug her. I was there to take photos and convince Jake that she had cheated on him. But Clue demanded more money and I didn’t have it,” she said. “He threatened to tell Jake what I’d done. I couldn’t let him. You have to understand.”

“So, you killed him,” Brenna said. She felt queasy, and not just from the pounding in her head. This woman she had liked so well was a murderer, and none of them had seen it.

“I had no choice,” Margie said.

“Why did you come after me?” Brenna asked. Margie looked at her with sad eyes. “Oh, the shoes. You were afraid I’d remember that you wore Jake’s old boots and put it all together.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Margie said. “I like you.”

Brenna felt a bone-deep chill inside.

“Why, Margie, why did you do this?”

“Because
she
was going to take away my baby,” Margie said. Jake and John were almost upon them. “She would have taken him to Boston or someplace even farther away and I might never see him again. I couldn’t let her have him.”

“Oh, my God,” Brenna said. A blast of intuition hit her right between the eyes. “Lisa Sutton is dead, isn’t she? You killed her.”

Margie’s head snapped up and she looked at Brenna with a crazy light in her eye. “She tried to lure him away. She was a wicked girl. I did what I had to do.”

“Mom, what’s going on?” Jake asked as he joined them.

“Nothing, dear, I’m just having a chat with Brenna.” She looked softly at her son and laid her free hand on his cheek. She gazed at him with love, and then she stepped back and yanked her elbow out of Brenna’s grasp. She spun on her heel and bolted for the road.

“Margie, watch out!” John Haywood shouted and pointed at the road.

“Mom!” Jake Haywood yelled as he looked in the direction his father pointed and saw a large dairy truck headed their way.

“Oh no you don’t!” Brenna shouted. She bolted after Margie, knowing exactly what she planned to do. Brenna wasn’t about to let her get off that easy.

She sprinted across the grass, leapt over a hedge, and made a dive, catching Margie around the knees and bringing her down into the dirt. This time it was Margie who smacked her head on the ground as she cushioned Brenna’s fall.

A pair of shiny, black boots stepped into her line of sight. Brenna glanced up to see Chief Barker looking down at her and thoughtfully pulling on his mustache.

The dairy truck rolled by, and Margie dissolved into sobs. “Why didn’t you let me do it?”

“Because it’s not fair to Clue or Lisa,” Brenna said. She gingerly climbed off of Margie. “Chief Barker, you’re going to want to take her in for the murders of Clue Parker and Lisa Sutton.”

The chief leaned down and pulled Margie up by the arm. John and Jake ran up to meet them, and Brenna stood on wobbly feet. Her head pounded and she was out of breath, but it was worth it.

“Don’t hate me,” Margie said to her husband and son.

“What’s going on?” Jake glanced from Brenna to Margie and back.

“Please take me away, Chief,” Margie said. “I’d rather not be seen like this.”

John glanced at his wife and his eyes grew sad. “Oh, no, Margie, not you.”

She didn’t look at him but brushed at the dirt that smeared her skirt. She refused to speak or look at anyone.

“Brenna, you’ll follow?” Chief Barker asked, although it didn’t sound like a question.

“I’ll be right there,” she agreed. “Just let me catch my breath.”

He gave a nod and led Margie across the street to the station house.

“I don’t understand,” Jake said. “What’s going on?”

Tara came running across the green to join them with Tenley on her heels.

“It was your mother,” John Haywood said. “She murdered Clue.”

“What? That’s crazy!” Jake protested.

“And Lisa Sutton,” Brenna said.

Jake staggered back and sank onto a bench. Tara knelt beside him as if she could shield him from the bad news.

“I don’t understand,” Jake said.

“Your mother has always been afraid of losing you,” John said. “That’s why she became the school nurse, so she could be near you every day. I thought she was just being overly protective.”

“B-but . . .” Jake stammered as if he couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

“Damn it! I knew something was wrong,” John said. “She hasn’t been herself. Ever since Jake and Tara started up, I’d catch her pacing around the house, up at all hours, frequently muttering to herself. I knew something was bothering her, but I never thought she’d . . . oh, poor Clue.”

“And Lisa,” Brenna added.

John looked sick to his stomach and sat down next to Jake.

“Lisa?” Jake asked. “She killed her?”

“I’m afraid so,” Brenna said.

“Then Lisa didn’t leave me her angel, did she?” Jake asked. He looked devastated.

“No, I think your mom did that to ease your pain,” Brenna said.

The group was silent. Brenna met Tenley’s gaze, and saw the devastation there. This was Margie Haywood, bandager of boo-boos and giver of hugs.

“So why did she kill Clue?” Jake asked.

“He was supposed to seduce Tara away from you, and your mom planned to take pictures to prove it, but instead he drugged her,” Brenna said. “He threatened to tell you what Margie asked him to do if she didn’t give him more money. She panicked.”

“Oh, God.” Jake buried his face in his hands, and Tara held him tight.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Haywood,” Brenna said.

John Haywood looked at the bandage on her temple and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. She could have killed you, too. You did what had to be done.”

John broke down, and Jake slid across the bench and wrapped his arms about his father. Tenley put an arm around Tara and held her while the two men sobbed.

“I’d better go,” Brenna whispered. “Chief Barker is expecting me.”

“I’ve got it covered here,” Tenley said. “We’ll follow in a bit.”

This time Brenna glanced in both directions before crossing the street to the station, but really, she couldn’t imagine feeling much more run-over than she did at the moment.

 

Two weeks later, Tara and Jake were married in a quiet ceremony at city hall. A small reception at the Fife and Drum followed, with his father and her parents in attendance as well as the Porter sisters, Matt, Tenley, Nate, Dom, and Brenna.

Margie Haywood had confessed to the murders of Clue Parker and Lisa Sutton. Jake had given Lisa’s pendant back to her mother and the family had decided to move away from Morse Point and the painful memories that surrounded them here.

Clue had no family, his parents having passed away years before, but Jake made sure he had a nice funeral and was buried in Morse Point Cemetery. A headstone with his favorite motorcycle engraved upon it had been ordered with the epitaph “Whatever it is, it’s better in the wind.”

After a filling steak dinner, Tara and Jake cut into a delicate whip cream cake with strawberry filling and served it to all of their guests.

A small pile of wedding gifts had been placed on a table by the door, and Brenna was surprised when the hope chest she had just delivered to Betty Cartwright appeared on the table with a big blue bow and a note that read:
“We think you two young people can make better use of this than us. Be happy. Best wishes, Mr. and Mrs. Saul Hanratty.”

“So, Betty got her man?” Tenley asked.

“It seems so,” Brenna said.

“May I have this dance?” Matt appeared at Tenley’s elbow and held out his hand.

Jake and Tara and the Montgomerys were already waltzing on the small dance floor by the large fireplace in the corner. Brenna watched as Matt led a beaming Tenley onto the floor.

She glanced at the large table in the corner. John Haywood was seated with the Porter sisters on either side of him, each doing their best to get his attention and keep him from dwelling on the fact that his wife was not here to share this momentous occasion in their son’s life. John was attentive to the two ladies, but every now and then, just for a second, Brenna saw him glance at his son and look happy and proud, but with a tinge of sadness.

“Care to dance?” Dom asked. Brenna turned to find him standing beside her. In another impeccable suit, he was mouthwateringly handsome, and she wished, not for the first time, that her feelings were not already tangled up around her landlord.

She glanced back at the table. Nate was in conversation with John while the Porter sisters appeared to be squabbling about something, probably John Henry and whether he had been in love with Ella or Marie.

“Sure,” she said and put her hand in his.

Dom moved her carefully around the floor as if still cautious of the injuries done to her head and her knees. She was about to tell him she was fine, when she caught a movement over his shoulder.