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Frozen Identity Page 2
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I pointed down to my boots and to the path of little puddles I had made from the melting snow.
“Sorry about that, Flori. These people didn’t even give me time to take my boots off. However,” I said, looking back at Flori, “In case you were wondering why all your sweet children came over tonight, it’s because they know they’ve been acting like idiots their whole life.”
I made a quick scan around the room when I said ‘idiots.’
“They wanted to spend one night here with you, after eating your turkey and leaving that pile of dirty dishes in your sink for you to wash, to tell you how sorry they are that they’ve made you cry so much over the years. Ever since Jake Jr. was born, he’s been a real pain, hasn’t he?”
Before she could disagree, I continued, “Remember when he stole his dad’s rifle and shot up the side of the church? You were so ashamed you didn’t leave the house for weeks. Who could blame you for bursting into tears every five minutes? And, Alfred? What did he do to ruin your life? He set fire to the old livery stable that used to be at the edge of town. The two horses inside almost perished, never mind Amos, who was so drunk he could hardly find the door. Who wouldn’t cry for the next year after that?”
No one said a word. Not even Papa Jake. Flori’s tears had dried up.
“Then, there’s your daughter, Jenny.” (There were a few gasps from the crowd.) “Did you ever find out who she was with when she disappeared for almost a week when she was sixteen?”
Jenny’s husband turned towards his wife so fast, I’m sure he got a whiplash.
“I remember you sitting in my shop and bawling your eyes out every day.” I looked around at all of them. “I bet each one of you would do that too if one of your daughters disappeared and you didn’t know if she were dead or alive.”
I now had a captive audience. Her sons and daughters stared at me with mouths agape. And, Jake? To be honest, I’ve never seen him look so pleased. I could count on one hand how many times I’ve done anything to make Jake happy. …Well, perhaps this was the first.
As I looked out at them, I was trying hard to remember some of their names because there were several juicy stories that I could relate. My plans, however, came to an abrupt end when someone started banging on the back door.
Flori stood up.
“I’ll get that,” she said, in a flat voice, and walked out of the room. It was hard to tell what she was thinking but there was a determined look on her face. A completely new look for my friend.
The room once again burst into noise with all of it directed at me. I was glad that everyone was talking at the same time so I didn’t have to defend myself.
Suddenly, there was silence. I turned and looked toward the doorway where Flori stood with acting-sheriff Reg Smee beside her. There were no tears in her eyes but I don’t think I’d ever seen her look so miserable.
“Flori,” I said. “I didn’t mean to say those things to upset you. It’s just that they wanted to do this stupid intervention thing to make you stop crying and I didn’t want your feelings hurt.”
She turned her sad eyes to me. “It doesn’t matter, Mabel. Sometimes something can happen that is so terrible there aren’t enough tears to shed for it.” She turned to Reg. “Go ahead, Sheriff. Do your job.”
Reg Smee looked extremely uncomfortable. Of course, it didn’t help that he was wearing a large bulky winter jacket over his uniform and a fur hat on his head with the flaps hanging down over his ears. Reg is not a small man to begin with so with his layers of clothes, he and Flori more than adequately filled the doorway from the kitchen into the living room.
Jake spoke up. “What’s up, Reg? Don’t tell me someone complained about the noise again.”
Reg shook his head. “No, not this time.” He looked over at Jake. “Sorry to do this, Jake, but I don’t have a choice.”
It was now that I noticed Reg wasn’t alone. Scully, Parson's Cove's only deputy for the time being, was standing in the kitchen. I also noticed that no one was smiling. Scully looked as miserable as the sheriff.
“What’s going on, Reg?” I asked.
Reg walked into the room and looked at Jake Jr. He spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “Junior,” he said. “I’m taking you into custody. You’re being arrested for the murder of Victor Fleming.” He stopped to sigh. “As I’ve told you before on several previous occasions when I was sheriff, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of Law. You have the right to an attorney and if you can’t afford one, one will be provided for you by the court. Do you understand?”
The only sound in the room was the old clock that Flori bought at a garage sale last year. It was so loud I almost wanted to put my hands over my ears. As if in slow motion, everyone in the room turned their attention to Jake Junior. I don’t think any of us wanted to but we didn’t know where else to look.
There was a wild look in Jake Jr.’s eyes. “What are you saying?" he shouted at Reg. "I didn’t kill that little weasel. You have to believe me. Is this some kind of joke?” He turned to Flori. “Momma, you have to believe me. This is a big mistake. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill anyone. Ever.”
Papa Jake started walking towards him. I could see his fists clenching and unclenching. If another murder was going to take place in front of us, I was trying to prepare myself.
Many times, in years past, Flori came to me bawling because Jake had whipped one of his sons. At the time, I had taken Jake’s side but now, I had a horrid feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.
To my surprise, Jake asked very calmly, “This is serious, Reg. I imagine you have some good evidence to prove this?”
No one looked sorrier than Reg Smee did. He nodded. “Sorry to tell you, Jake, but I was right there when Junior threatened Flori’s cousin.”
“What do you mean, threatened?"
Junior interrupted. “But I didn’t mean it. Who in his right mind would threaten to kill someone with a retired cop in the room? I told him he'd never see the light of day if he didn’t go away and leave my mother alone. It was a threat but I didn’t do it. I wanted him to leave town.” He turned to look at his mother. “Besides, I didn’t even see him again after that.”
“But Victor is my cousin,” Flori said. “Why would you tell him to leave without asking me about it first?”
Suddenly, the one crying was Jake Jr. In between sobs, he said, “Because he wanted money from you. That’s why. And you would’ve given it to him. You’re too soft hearted.” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I wanted to protect you from him. Victor Fleming is a leach and scumbag. If you gave him any money, he would have kept coming and coming for more. I wanted him to go away and stay away.”
“Well,” Reg said. “Too many people overheard your threat, Junior, so I have no choice but to lock you up.”
I am not a Jake Junior fan but somehow this didn’t seem right.
“Reg, if that’s all you have to go on, that’s not much. Lots of people make stupid threats but it doesn’t mean that they carry them out. And, like Junior said, why would someone say that with a cop in the room?”
Reg nodded. “That’s true.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to mention this in front of everyone but there is something else. Someone saw you driving out of town, heading for the lake.”
“That's the proof? Surely you have more than that, don't you?” I asked.
The elderly retired sheriff, who was probably wishing he was spending the evening at home in his warm cozy house, nodded. He looked more somber than I had ever seen him.
“There is more then, I take it?”
He turned from Junior and looked at me.
“I’m afraid so, Mabel. We have a witness who saw him snooping about the fish shack where Victor’s body was found.”
Jake Jr. started to say something but stopped. His wife, Emma, put her hand in his. She was pale and her lips were trembling. No one else said a word.
Reg looked at J
ake Jr. “If you’re innocent, we’ll prove it. Until then, you’ll be our guest at the station.” With another sigh, he said, “Go get your coat and let Scully cuff you.”
The mood in the room changed now. Jenny ran over to Jake Junior and wrapped her arms around him.
“I know you’d never do anything like that, Jakie,” she said. “Don’t worry, Reg and Mabel will find out who the real killer is.” Tears were pouring out of her eyes and running down her face.
Two strong emotions coursed through me. One was astonishment that anyone, especially one of Flori’s children, would consider me as someone who would find the murderer. The other was astonishment at how much all of Flori’s family bawled. Even Jake.
Except Flori. She was not shedding a tear.
Chapter Two
That was Thursday night. From Friday through to the next Tuesday, everyone was housebound. In the early morning hours on Wednesday, I could hear the snowplows clearing the streets. I also knew what was in store for me. Every time I looked out my living room window, I saw the snow piling high in my driveway. Not that there’s any rush to clear it as I rarely use my car in the winter. However, I like to have it ready to go in case of an emergency. In years past, it has come in handy on occasion.
Flori phoned me every day. She seemed almost more concerned with my wellbeing than I was with hers. She even asked about the cats. I didn’t want to probe too much but it seemed strange not to have her call and wail in my ear. This was definitely not the Flori I knew all my life. This was a stranger and I was getting worried.
Even though I was stuck in the house, I tried to keep up with the murder case. So far, all I knew was that Flori's cousin was found, frozen to death in a fish shack. One of the problems, Reg said, was that no one could get out to the murder scene because of the weather. If there were any footprints around the shack, the strong wind would have either removed them or covered them over with the snowdrifts.
Apparently, the lake was like sheer glass so if the killer had taken that route to escape, he left no evidence. There were no tire prints on the road because five-foot snowdrifts covered most of it.
If Jake Jr. didn’t act on his threat and was innocent, it would be hard to prove someone else was guilty. I tried to explain that to Flori but she told me that she didn’t want to know anything about it. Period.
“But, Flori,” I said, “We have to discuss it for your own well being. Or, you have to cry. Do something!"
She made no comment. I waited for a slight sniffle but nothing.
I decided to try a different approach. "What was this Victor like? I remember when the whole family used to come up and visit you in the summer. You haven’t mentioned them for years. How come this fellow showed up out of nowhere?”
She sighed because this was about the tenth time I’d tried to get information out of her.
“Oh, all right, Mabel, I’ll tell you as much as I know.”
“Thank you, Flori. I knew I could count on your help. By the way, did you happen to hear Jenny say that Reg and I would find the real killer? She included me. I have to admit, Flori, that daughter of yours is very perceptive. She’s growing up to be just like her momma.”
“Mabel, Jenny is over thirty now. I think she's about as grown up as she’s going to get.”
Sometimes I should be more perceptive and stick to one subject at a time.
“I guess you’re right. Well, you do realize that I’ll do my best to prove Junior innocent, don’t you?”
She didn’t speak for a few seconds. “I know, it’s just that I’m worried that maybe he is guilty. Out of all the kids, he has always had the worst temper. And, you know what? I can see him locking Victor in that shack and not even thinking about the consequences. He could do it in a fit of anger, not realizing Victor would die in there. It’s too bad Emma wasn’t with him. She is the stable one in that family.”
I waited to hear the sobbing but it didn’t come. She only sighed.
“No, Mabel,” she said, “I’m prepared for the worst. It will break my heart but I’ll be okay.”
“Flori, are you sure you’re all right? You don’t sound normal.”
“I’m fine. What do you want me to do? Scream and howl?”
“Well, that does sound more like the real you. Just because those kids of yours had that intervention, doesn’t mean you have to listen to them. You can be yourself. Everyone loves you the way you are, Flori.”
“You are truly a wonderful friend but really, I'm okay. What did you want? You want to know about Victor?”
“Yeah, that would be a good place to start. When did you see him last anyway?”
“I saw him the day before he was found in the shack.”
“You saw Victor? You didn’t tell me about it. You didn’t tell any of your family?”
There was a moment’s pause. “No, I didn’t. Oh Mabel, I know that isn’t right but I didn’t want them to know. I don’t know how Junior knew about the money. I must admit, Victor is not a very nice person any more. Well, I guess he never was. It didn’t take long to figure that out.”
“Well, now he’s dead so you can use the past tense.”
“I said he wasn’t nice but that doesn’t mean that I’m happy he’s dead.”
“That’s because you’re a better person than most of us, Flori. Why do you say he wasn’t nice?”
Although I couldn’t see Flori’s face, I knew she’d be staring out the window at the blowing snow, trying to search for the right word. She finds it difficult to admit someone might be nasty, or heaven forbid, evil. If she can find anything positive, that is what she concentrates on. It’s a good trait to possess if someone unknowingly makes a boo-boo, but not so good if a dead body is involved.
“Remember when his family used to come to Parson’s Cove years and years ago?” she said. “One time, I heard my mother talking to Dad about them. It seems my parents didn’t think too much of them. Mom said that Uncle Howard, Victor’s dad, had been in jail a few times.”
“You’re kidding? What did he do?”
“Well, I was young so didn’t pay too much attention but I think she said it was for embezzlement or something like that. I’m sorry, Mabel, I can’t be sure. I know it was a word that I didn’t really understand. I just knew Uncle Howard wasn’t my favorite uncle. He was kind of creepy and my parents were always relieved when they all headed back home.”
“So, in other words, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree?”
“I think Victor was in much more trouble than that. Uncle Howard drank and said stupid things but I think Victor was on drugs. He asked for a lot of money and for some reason seemed to think that I was holding out on him. Actually, he said something really terrible and it will take a long time for me to get over it.”
“What did he say, Flori?”
“He said he knew there was big money in my family and then called me a very bad word.”
“What bad word was it?”
“The female dog one.”
“Why didn't you tell me? You can’t keep things like that a secret, Flori.”
“Well, I didn’t want Jake to hear. I was worried about what he would do to Victor. I guess I was worrying about the wrong Jake Flanders.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. All this has yet to be proved, Flori. Jakie said he didn’t do it so we have to believe him.”
“Mabel,” she whispered. “Jake just walked in. He was visiting Junior over at the jail. I’ll talk to you later.”
She hung up. All I heard was a clunk and then, a dial tone.
Chapter Three
On Thursday morning, I managed to waddle to my store. The wind had died down but the temperature had plunged. My outdoor thermometer read minus twenty-two. I wrapped myself up in as many clothes as I could find and then took my mother’s ancient muskrat coat out of the closet in my sewing room. It had hung there for many years but I never had the heart to get rid of it. Now, I knew why I had stored the ugly thing. It kept me from freez
ing to death in that three block walk. I was just hoping that a dog wouldn’t attack me.
It took about ten minutes to peel off all my clothes after I finally opened the back door. It is not easy trying to turn a doorknob when everything is frozen solid. Like my hands, for instance.
The first thing I did was turn up the heat and put on the coffee. While the coffee perked, I walked to the window and looked out at Main Street. It looked like a ghost town painted white.
My friend, Charlie Thompson, wasn’t even sitting in his usual spot. He sits on the bench in front of the library every day, no matter what the weather throws at us. However, I guess he makes some exceptions when it is so cold that the clock above the Post Office stopped working.
By the way, Charlie is someone special in my life. He is a bit odd and some in town call him mentally handicapped or the more polite people say ‘slow.’ However, I believe he has more going for him than the ones who make such ignorant statements.
He lives alone in a small house at the end of Main Street. After his parents, or grandparents (we’re not sure which) died when he was very young, he was bounced around from one family to another. Finally, the town fixed a house up for him and he’s quite content to live by himself. He doesn’t talk much and he wanders the streets at night but he’s sweet and harmless. The fact that he has helped me solve murder cases proves that there is more to him than meets the eye.
The coffee was ready so I poured a cup and went back to the window. I wasn’t sure why I had come to work but I didn’t know what else to do. It was either stay home with five restless cats (Old Tom decided to return) wanting to go outside every ten minutes but wanting back in after three minutes, or coming to work and doing nothing.
Now if I sold electric heaters, scarves, mittens and leg warmers, there’s a chance I might have a customer or two; however, if all you have are knick-knacks, souvenirs, second hand books, and Sadie MacIntosh’s preserves, there’s not going to be a rush to get inside Mabel’s Fables and Things.