Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked (35 page)

My eyes were also brimming and blinking didn’t help. “No, Rose. Not yet. And we’ll help you in any way we can.” Gina stood behind her grandmother, rigid. She glared at me, willing me to stop, but I had one more question to ask. “Is that why you hit Doctor Sadler, Rose? Because he wanted Gina to go?”

“Yes, of course. He was going to make her go away. He said Sal was right, she was trouble. I tried to tell him, but Owen never did listen. Just like Sal. He made me so mad.” She sighed. “He took Gina’s baby. My granddaughter. Did you know that? Just gave her away. I told him not to. I told Sal also. No one listened.” She paused, as if mulling all this over. “I was going to lose her again. Gina.” She frowned. “Did you know there were two
…
no. That can’t be right” She paused again, than shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. “I told Owen
… D
id you know he died? I went to his funeral.”

I couldn’t tell if she knew she’d killed him or not. She didn’t seem to realize that Sal was dead
,
either. I could feel tears running down my face. They were running down Aunt Mary’s also, but she never let go of Rose’s hand.

“Gina.” Dan didn’t raise his voice
,
and he looked a little sick, but his tone left no room for anything but hard truth. “Where’s Rose’s apron?”

Gina bent down and rested her cheek on Rose’s hair, then raised her head and looked helplessly at Dan.

“Gina.”

“I rolled it up and put it in the freezer,” she whispered

I didn’t want to say anything more. Words had become physically painful, hot pieces of metal scalding my mouth, but I had no choice. “There are two aprons in that freezer, aren’t there, Gina. And there are latex gloves in the pocket of one of them.”

I’ve never seen such pain
o
n anyone’s face. The look
Gina
gave me held no recrimination, no hate, no blame, just pain mixed with despair. She nodded.

I’ve never seen Dan’s face like that, either. Rage, sorrow, frustration, all mixed together. I knew he loved his job, but I was certain that right then he’d gladly trade it to the garbage man. He turned around and faced the room. “You, get Grady out of here. Get him booked. Arson. One of you check that freezer.”

I went on. It was as if I couldn’t stop. Everything had come together, a truth I didn’t want to deal with, and, somehow, if I said all of it, told everything I knew or suspected, I could get rid of it. “And today. You washed her hands and tried to get the blood off her collar. It’s still wet.”

Dan stared at me, gently turned Rose toward him and looked at her collar before he turned to Gina.
“Did you really think you could get away with that?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Gina looked back at Dan, despair heavy in her voice. Her arms tightened around her grandmother.

Dan shook his head. There was anger, and anguish, in his voice. “The rest of you, finish up. You guys,” he gestured at the photographer and the man with the chalk, “are you done? Then get the
…
Sal, out of here.” He turned back to Rose, but a whiney voice interrupted.

“I’ve got a right to a lawyer. I get a phone call and an attorney. You can’t frame me, and you got no proof that
…” Grady’s voice faded away under the force of Dan’s stare. It would have withered wood.

“As God is my witness, if I wasn’t a professional, I’d
..
.”
He addressed every one in the room. “You all saw this. I never laid a hand on the little
…
Get him out of here.”

The whines turned to soft mutters as he was led away. Dan turned back to Rose, who looked up at him with a small smile.

“Dan, how nice. Did you come to talk about the wedding cake? Sal will be so sorry he missed you. I’ll tell him when he gets up. Oh.”
She looked at where the body had lain, then around the shop, mystified, lost.

I didn’t think he was going to keep it together. I didn’t think I was. We both swallowed, hard. Dan looked at me. I reached around and grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back, slowly withdrew it, squatted down in front of Rose’s chair and took both of her hands in his.

“Rose, listen to me. That’s right.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “You have the right to remain silent
…”

T
he church was beautiful. This New Year’s Eve night was crystal clear, stars hanging low in an inky sky, making the jewel tones in the stained glass windows glow. Inside, the church was alight with candles. Large candelabras flanked the altar, smaller ones sat on it, and there were actually lit candles in glass hurricane lamps that hung on every other pew. The ones in between were decorated with white satin bows into which were tucked sprigs of fir. I worried, briefly, if with all those candles the fire department would shut us down. Only, the fire chief and most of the fire department were here, so probably not.

Tubs of fir trees surrounded the altar, trimmed with tiny white lights. Tubs of white poinsettias, whose throats and outer leaves were brushed with pink, sat everywhere. A white runner covered the central aisle. Where it had come from, I had no idea. I hadn’t ordered it. Or had I?

I stood in the vestibule beside my father. Pat and Susannah, looking elegant in their dark green gowns, kept milling around, greeting last minute guests, pushing open the entry doors to the church, coming back to tell me that neither Dan, his brother Don, Neil, nor Reverend Miller were out yet, but that Dan’s mother had taken her place.

Dan’s mother was the picture of calm. She had appeared at the church with Dan’s father, dressed beautifully in a deep rose-colored dress, and given me a hug. “You look so beautiful, Ellen. I’ve wanted you for a daughter
-
in
-
law for a long time.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. I started to get teary, but she pulled out a tissue, blotted my eyes, and instructed me not to dare cry. My makeup would run. I laughed, and my makeup was saved.

My mother wasn’t quite so calm. She’d been dithering for days, worrying about everything. She’d asked me at least ten times if I liked my dress and by the way where was it. I didn’t lie. I told her my friend Pat had it and was making some alterations. I just didn’t tell her how many.

Tonight she kept looking at me, a bit teary eyed, as I stood beside my father. “You look just beautiful. I knew that dress was you the minute I saw it.” A slight frown wrinkled her face. “But I thought the skirt was, you know, fuller. The sleeves seem different
,
too. And wasn’t there a veil?”

I smiled. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

My father looked down at me and winked. “I saw the dress before your mother sent it to you. Your friend did a great job with her
…
alterations.”

My father is a very patient and perceptive man.

Neil appeared and offered mother his arm. “I think it’s time for you to go up now. Besides, I’ve got to get back and prop up Dan.”

I made a face at him, and he grinned. Mother took his arm and they entered the church. It wouldn’t be long now.

Susannah came up to us. “Did you see Gina and Marilee?”

I nodded.

“Nathan’s sitting right beside Marilee holding the baby. Do you think that will work out?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Anne seems to have her doubts, but Nathan’s a good man. And a persistent one. Only, Marilee’s got ideas of her own. If they work out the way she and Gina have it planned, well, who knows.”

Gina was going to remain in Santa Louisa. She was taking over the bakery. Her aunt Gabrielle, her mother’s only sister, had flown in as soon as she had heard what happened. She had made all of the funeral arrangements for her father, but without any evidence of extreme grief. That she’d saved for her mother. However, Rose was residing at Shady Acres in their Alzheimer section and seemed, on the whole, content. It was a lockdown facility, and the judge was more than willing to commit her. Dan had said she’d never stand trial. She kept asking, not without trepidation, when Sal was coming back, and seemed to slip easily between present and past. I wasn’t sure Alzheimer’s was her problem, but at least she was comfortable, well taken care of, and seemingly content. More than she would have gotten at the county jail, which was where Leona and Grady still languished. I felt terribly sorry for Leona, in spite of what she had done. What a waste of a life. Grady was busy wasting his as well, but somehow I had less sympathy for him.

“What is Marilee going to do at the bakery?” Susannah turned her grandfather around and straightened his tie. “There.” She stood back and examined him. “My, you do look handsome.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and he beamed at her.

I beamed at both of them. “The girls have gone into a partnership. They are talking about a coffeehouse kind of thing. Breakfast, lunch, and later, when Marilee has enough experience, maybe some catering. Could work.”

“A partnership? How could Marilee do that?”

How indeed. I thought about lumpy baby car seats and almost grinned. “They must have worked something out.”

“Well, if Gina is running it,
it
’ll work out fine
.
”

Pat, who had been keeping watch, started to wave to us. “We’re starting. Oh, there’s your aunt Mary sitting right beside your mother.” She grinned at me. “And there isn’t one single poinsettia on her dress. Susannah, get up here. We’re about to go.”

I could hear the organ. Susannah and Pat took their places at the door and, as it opened, started their slow glide up the aisle. My father and I took our places, ready for my grand entrance. I couldn’t see Dan. But he must be there, waiting for me. A pause, then the music changed. Here comes the bride. That was me. The congregation stood. It was time.

I slipped my arm through my father’s, and we moved to the open door. He looked down at me and whispered in my ear, “You ready?”

Again, I looked down the aisle. There he was, waiting, watching for me. He caught sight of me and smiled. I smiled back.

“I’m ready.”

“Be happy, baby.”

“Thanks, Dad. I already am.”

Kathleen Delaney
, a retired real estate broker, has authored three other Ellen McKenzie mystery novels, using her real estate experience to guide Ellen. The scenes in the bakery kitchen required extra research. (Bakery people are not only generous with their knowledge, but also with their Cherry Danish.) Besides her novels, Kathleen has contributed to several anthologies, won a national award for short fiction, and published several articles. She lives in a century-old house in South Carolina, enjoying her two dogs, and eight grandchildren.

You can find Kathleen online at

www.KathleenDelaney.net www.KathleenDelaney.camelpress.com.