Weaving The Web: A Cold Hollow Mystery (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 2) (18 page)

“Then it’s a done deal. We can pick out the menu together for the meal after the service.”

“Perfect. Oh, another thing.”

“What?”

“I don’t want my father’s gun back. Do you think the chief could get a case for it and mount it on the police station wall as a tribute to his many years of service?”

Robert smiled. “I like the idea. I’ll talk to him about it after everything settles down.”

They pulled into the parking lot of a small, one-level funeral parlor. They saw the chief’s cruiser there, so they knew Myrna was with him.

They walked into the place to be greeted by a nice gentleman. Robert didn’t catch his last name, but his first name was Steve. He was tall and thin, and his face was pockmarked. He shook their hands and escorted them to the section where they could pick out urns. Becky’s mouth dropped open when she saw the high price tags on the jars. She turned to Myrna, speechless.

Myrna wrapped her arm around her shoulder and said, “Sarah wants your mom to have the most beautiful one they have here, regardless of cost. I don’t want you to worry about the price, either. I’ve already spoken to Steve about it.”

Becky looked up at Robert, who was staring at the variety with interest. “Which one do you think is the most beautiful?”

Robert pointed to the top shelf. It was a gilded cloisonné urn with flowers and hummingbirds all over it. Steve took it from the shelf and let Becky get a closer look at it. Myrna ran her fingers over it and smiled at Becky. “I think Sarah would love it.”

Becky nodded. “It actually is the prettiest one out of all of them. What do you think, Chief?”

The chief chuckled. “Honey, you’re asking the wrong man. You could stick my remains in an old, rusty canteen and my wife would think it was a hoot. I do think your mother was a beauty, and if you think it’s pretty, then that’s the one to buy. I just have no taste.”

Sarah extended it out to Steve and said, “We’ll take it. I love it.” He smiled back, bowed his head, and went to the back room with it.

When he returned, he asked about the services, and Robert spoke up. “We’re using the banquet room at my restaurant. We’d like it if you could come and say a few kind words. We’ll have a short service and then the reception.”

Steve said in a smooth, calming voice, “Perfect. Have you decided on a date yet?”

Robert glanced at Becky and shook his head. “We’ll call you as soon as we pick one. I do know it will be within the month.”

Steve responded in a consoling manner. “Whatever makes you comfortable is perfectly fine with me. I’d be honored to say a few words.”

Robert cleared his throat. “Thank you.” Myrna looked at him; he was turning pale. This was bothering him more than he let on.

When he went to pull out his wallet to pay for the urn, Myrna clamped her hand over his arm and shook her head. “It’s already taken care of.”

“But…”

Myrna dragged him into an adjoining room and rumbled in a low, commanding voice, “Don’t argue with me, Robert. I am in charge of the sick bastard’s estate, and I’ll see to it Carla gets the best send-off and those girls are set for life in recompense for his foul acts. Do you understand me?”

Robert staggered backward. “Sure. You will let me know what to do about the reception?”

She poked his chest. “I’ll tell you what to do right now. You serve prime rib, baked stuffed shrimp, and the most expensive meals and appetizers you can think of. Be sure to serve the finest of wines as well. Make the banquet hall look like a blossoming wonderland and use the finest of linen tablecloths. It will all be compliments of Warren Measly, the little shit.”

Robert chuckled. “He would hate it.”

Myrna grinned back and bobbed her head side to side as her eyebrows wiggled. “I know.”

Robert’s color returned to normal, and they joined the chief and Becky. After they left in Robert’s truck, the chief stood guard outside by the door. Myrna made her way back to the counter and plopped her package from the five-and-dime in front of Steve. He eyeballed the bag curiously, dug into it, and unwrapped what she had purchased. He laughed, “Are you joking?”

Myrna pursed her lips and shook her head. “As soon as the coroner releases his body, I want you to light the fire and stick Measly’s rotten corpse inside. Just seal this jar with his remains in it and let me know when it’s ready for pickup.”

“Any services?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course there will be a service. I’m not a savage. It would be rude of me not to have one, but I won’t have it here. I have a special place in mind. It will be a private service, and I will take care of it.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Okay, Mayor. I’ll send you the bills when it’s all settled.”

“Sounds good to me. Have a nice day, Steve.” She left the funeral parlor with a broad smile on her face. She grabbed the chief’s arm and dragged him to his cruiser. “We need to go to the town pharmacy if you haven’t yet.”

“Why? I did yesterday, but aw, may as well. I have to pick up the wife’s arthritis pills anyway.” After she explained about the chloroform in Tom’s medical bag and the fact Jack also worked at the hospital pharmacy part time, he picked up his pace and sped out of the parking lot, stating he had a few more questions for Jack.

***

Sarah slowly opened her eyes, blinked, and asked, “Why are you visiting me? I killed someone.”

Donnie shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not scared, unless you have a gun hidden under the blanket.” He set up her lunch on a tray for her and put the vase beside it. She reached out, pulled the vase to her, and sniffed the flower.

When he was done, she watched him sit beside her on the bed. “What you did was understandable, Sarah. Heck, if it had been my mom, I would have done the same damn thing.”

“It still doesn’t make it right, Donnie.”

“No, it doesn’t, but you had just heard the news and you weren’t acting like you normally would have.”

“It’s what the doctors say. They say with time and therapy I’ll be good as new soon.”

“What about baking as therapy?”

“Yep, they like the idea too, but I don’t know if I have to stand trial in a juvenile court or not. Myrna mentioned something about it, and it scares me.”

Donnie shook his head and replied, “Don’t let it scare you. I’ll go with you if you want, and I’m sure Mr. Collins and your sister will too. If I were a betting man, I’d say the chief and Myrna will testify for you too. You just need to take one day at a time.”

“You’re smart, Donnie. Has anyone ever told you?”

He curled the fingers of his right hand, blew on them, and rubbed them on his chest. He lifted his chin, smiled, and said, “I’ve been told that very thing on many occasions. Now eat your lunch.”

Sarah giggled, and it was like sweet music to his ears.

***

Myrna scanned the aisles of the pharmacy as the chief and Jack spoke behind the counter near the prescription pickup station.

The chief began the conversation. “I know I’ve already asked you a lot of questions, Jack, but I have a few more.”

Jack leaned on the counter and said, “Go ahead.”

“Do you refill the medical bags for the doctors at the hospital?”

Jack nodded. “I sure do. I work there in the afternoons.”

“Do you keep any of the supplies here at this pharmacy?”

The corners of Jack’s lips turned downward, and he shook his head. “The only things I keep here are the empty chloroform bottles. They are small, so I bring the empties here, properly cleanse them, and refill them. I don’t relabel them until I get back to the hospital pharmacy in the afternoon.”

“How much of the stuff do the doctors even use?”

Jack chuckled and shook his head. “Not much at all. If we go through two tiny bottles a year, it’s an anomaly.”

“So, you keep the chloroform here?”

Jack waved an arm at the chief. “Come on back, I’ll show you.” The chief eyed Myrna and went behind the counter to the back dispensing area. He watched Jack point to a shelf and a large, brown glass bottle of chloroform. There were calibrations along the side of the bottle, and he listened as Jack explained: “Each small bottle filled is accounted for, and the remaining liquid is marked down according the calibrations on the bottle.” He flipped open a ledger and showed the chief.

“So none of it has gone missing?”

“None.”

“What about the bottles?”

“I will admit, sometimes one is just too old, so I toss it.”

“How hard is it to make the stuff? I mean, how hard is it for someone knowledgable in chemistry to make chloroform.”

“Fairly easy. It’s mostly natural ingredients.”

The chief reached out, patted Jack’s shoulder, and smiled. “Thanks for your cooperation. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, come back again if you have more questions.”

The chief waved good-bye and walked Myrna back to the squad car. When they were inside, he said, “Did you catch all of it?”

Myrna straightened her blouse and replied, “Yep. Jack’s ledger for the medicine was spot on, so Warren stole an old bottle from Jack’s trash can and made some chloroform at home.”

The chief started the engine and snickered, “You should have been a detective, never mind a seamstress, baker, or mayor.”

As he pulled away, she said, “Hey! I’m good at all of it! By the way, you were supposed to pick up your wife’s arthritis prescription.”

The chief growled, turned the vehicle around, and ended up right where he had begun. He slammed the driver’s-side door as Myrna burst out in laughter.

Chapter 22

Myrna visited Sarah Macy daily for a week, as did Donnie, Robert Collins, and Becky Macy. She was having meals delivered to her by the restaurants in town in order to spare her the taste of the hospital food. The girl was improving rapidly. They had a meeting with the psychiatrist, Dr. Burch, who said Sarah was ready to leave the hospital the following morning. She had to remain on one particular medication she would take daily, and she could return to work at the bakery part time with a gradual increase in hours based on her condition. She would see the psychiatrist for weekly meetings. The psychiatrist agreed to testify on Sarah’s behalf at the closed trial.

Robert had been overseeing the remodel of his basement for the girls during the daytime hours and running the restaurant with Becky in the evenings for the past week. The paternity test came back positive, and they had fallen into a nice routine but could not wait to add Sarah to their daily lives. Hercules was also on the best routine a dog could ask for. Becky spoiled him relentlessly, much to Robert’s amusement.

For Myrna, Tom, and Liam, life went on as usual. No new clues had surfaced regarding the killer of Bernadette Carlisle, so they all began assuming Warren had actually done it, regardless of the type of silk used. However, the chief would not release Myrna from being guarded because Belinda Carlisle had not been found yet.

A week and a half after Becky had been released from the hospital, the girls and Robert decided to hold Carla Macy’s memorial service. They decorated the banquet hall to resemble a park in bloom. Everywhere people turned, there were beautiful bouquets, and potted morning glories trailing up hickory trellis’ standing behind the podium where people would speak. Dining tables were dressed with the finest linens Myrna had ever seen. Pictures of Carla Macy with her children were framed and placed meticulously between blooms, and indeed, it was a great tribute. Soft music played overhead as a banquet table was rolled in and loaded down with dishes, cutlery, and the finest appetizers known to man. After the guests were seated around the tables, Steve, the funeral parlor director, said the kindest words about Carla and short Bible verses and prayers were spoken. The girls later took the podium and spoke of their fondest memories of their mother. There were tears shed, but the girls were handling it wonderfully. Robert watched them and guided them throughout the entire event.

All in attendance were then served the best buffet ever to hit their taste buds. Robert smiled from ear to ear as each person approached him and complimented the appearance of the banquet room and the taste of the food. They gave their condolences to the girls and offered their assistance if it were ever needed.

Three days later, the trip began to the next town over for Sarah’s private court hearing. All of the character witnesses, physicians, and anyone else giving testimony jumped into their cars at eight o’clock in the morning, met on Main Street, and followed the chief’s cruiser.

The town was just a bit larger than Cold Hollow. The courthouse was typical, nothing extraordinary. When they were directed to the courtroom, they noticed the judge was already seated and an armed bailiff stood at his side. The chief rubbed Sarah’s back and sat next to her at a table as the rest of the party took seats in the rows behind them. The chief briefly stood and delivered all the necessary paperwork to the bailiff, who then handed it off to the judge for inspection. Myrna watched the judge’s facial expressions as he read the coroner’s report on Carla Macy, the chief’s report, and the coroner’s report on Warren Measly. His expressions were a mixed bag of emotions. When he read Carla’s report, he frowned, winced, and then appeared sick. When he read the chief’s report about how Measly had died at the police station, he eyeballed the chief, and it didn’t look good. When reading Warren’s coroner report, he appeared vindicated. He closed the folder, clasped his hands together, and stared at Sarah. “Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself?”

She stood and put her left hand on the chief’s shoulder to hold her balance. Her voice was tremulous as she explained, “I was not thinking straight. I’ve never killed anything in my life!”

“Considering what you know and how you feel today, would you have handled it differently?”

She nodded. “I would have been happy to hear he rotted in prison for the rest of his days. It would have been enough.”

“Excellent, you may sit down.” He then began calling character witnesses forward. Each was sworn in and questioned by the judge as to Sarah’s prior personality, work habits, and school grades. He was kind to all of them, and when he reviewed the psychiatric notes, doctor’s notes, and treatment used, he agreed Sarah had been handled appropriately.

He left the room to go to his chamber and think about things for a while, or so he said, and Sarah began sobbing. Robert leaned forward over the rail and squeezed her shoulder. “Honey, you’re doing great. It’ll only be a little while longer.”

She whimpered, “I’m going to the can, I just know it.”

Robert chuckled. “No, honey. They don’t send minors to the can. You will be just fine, no matter what.”

Silence ruled the room as the judge returned. He sat at his desk and stared long and hard at Sarah. “Young lady, how do you like my courtroom? Be honest with me.”

Sarah stood and glanced around. Myrna noticed the poor girl’s hands were shaking as though she had palsy. “I hate it. I’d rather be anywhere else than here right now.”

The judge smirked. “I bet you would. I tell you what. You’re going somewhere else in about five minutes, so you just sit tight.”

Sarah spun around and looked at Robert. “I told you! I told you I’m going to the can!” She raised her hands over her face and began crying in earnest.

Robert stood and gestured to Sarah, “May I come forward to comfort her, Your Honor?”

“You may.” He watched Robert rush through the short swinging half door separating the front of the courtroom from the back, grab Sarah, and pull her into his arms.

The judge rubbed his chin and said, “Sarah, you didn’t let me finish.” Sarah pulled away from Robert and turned back to the judge with a tear-stained face. He continued. “You’ll only be here five more minutes because I’m releasing you to Cold Hollow. You will serve five years of probation, and you will see the psychiatrist weekly. Dr. Burch is to send me monthly updates on your progress. Your probation officer will also send me monthly reports.”

The room went up in cheers as Becky lunged over the divider and joined Robert and her sister in a tight hug. Things settled down when the judge slammed his gavel down a few times.

Myrna jumped and listened as the judge pointed at the chief and her. “Get your asses up here.”

Myrna moaned and stood. She made her way through the swinging half door and approached the bench. The chief met her there and watched as the judge leaned over his big desk. “You two are certainly something. I don’t know what, but I’ll figure it out.” He slid Myrna the rights to Warren Measly’s estate and then glared at the chief. “Don’t be stupid again, or I’ll have your ass on a wire hanger. If you think there’s another killer in your godforsaken town, you had better nail him. You get me?”

He slid a procedure manual and a test to the chief and growled, “Next time, frisk everyone entering your station as guests! Read this manual, take the test, and send me the test results. You better not fail.”

The chief screwed up his lips and said, “Yes, Your Honor.” Myrna wanted to giggle but held it in.

As the chief walked away, Myrna leaned up on tiptoe to the judge and curled her finger. He leaned further over the desk to hear Myrna whisper, “What’s the punishment for a police officer who shoves the town mayor around?”

His eyes narrowed at her and then darted to the chief and back to her. “He shoved you?” She nodded. “What did you do to him?”

“Well, I acted solely on instinct. My arm shot out, and I walloped him in the chest. I was once an abused woman, Your Honor.” She batted her eyelashes and gave him her best pout.

He sat back and guffawed. “Get the hell out of my courtroom, both of you!”

***

After driving Myrna to the funeral parlor the following day, Ranger Hugo Morrissey drove her to the beginning of the hiking trail as she had requested. They walked the path together, and he noticed she carried what appeared to be a cookie jar in her arms.

“Are you holding our local screwball’s remains?”

“Sure am.”

He stopped her advance and gazed at the jar. The top had been sealed. It was Porky Pig and came across as something purchased at the local five-and-dime. She had drawn eyeglasses on it with an indelible black marker. He chuckled and said, “You know, he used to come here regularly with his dog. Each time he saw me, he’d tip his hat and say, ‘Good day to you, sir.’ Myrna, in all honesty, who the hell talks like that?”

“Screwed-up little bedbugs.”

Hugo elbowed her. “I love your sense of humor. Is he going into the pit?”

“You bet, and he’s going in auspicious, ceremonial fashion. Is your bladder full?”

“At my age, it’s always full. This is the strangest request I’ve ever received from you. I have to ask. Why did you want my bladder to be full?”

“You’ll see.”

They began the ascent up the trail. When they reached a certain section, they veered off and passed a sign saying, “Go no further than this point.” She followed Hugo, and at the end of the overgrown trail, they stood upon a flat rock. They were now looking down into a deep pit filled with refuse. She lifted the heavy cookie jar filled with Warren Measly’s remains over her head and threw it downward. The urn plummeted and shattered at the base of the pit. His ashes spread out all over the refuse.

Hugo then watched her do something odd. She turned her back to the pit and elbowed him. “Let it rip. I won’t peek.”

Hugo’s eyebrows rose, and he laughed as he urinated a hot steady stream all over the ashes. Myrna heard it hitting the base of the pit and smiled. Had she been in possession of the same anatomy, she would have done it herself.

When she heard his zipper go up, she turned around, stared at the wet ashes, raised her right hand, displayed her middle finger, and said, “Amen” with all the sentiment of a slug.

As they walked back down the trails together, Hugo asked, “Did they find any more clues about Belinda Carlisle?”

Myrna shook her head. “Why, do you miss her?”

Hugo elbowed her as he chuckled, “I miss her as much as a dog misses fleas.”

Myrna giggled and added, “If you ask me, Warren’s indication there was another killer in town was his way of planting a seed of doubt in our minds. I think it was him all along.”

“What about the different silk used?”

Myrna hitched her shoulders. “I told the chief anyone could order the high end or low end stuff whenever they wanted. I’m just glad everything has been quiet and peaceful.”

“Me too.”

***

Myrna, Hugo, and the chief later sat in her office for a quick meeting.

Myrna rubbed her forehead. “Shit, we have an empty house now.”

The chief picked his teeth and replied, “Turn Warren’s place into a hotel for the tourists, Myrna. The bed-and-breakfast had to turn people away last year. I do not want those commissioners coming back.”

Hugo griped, “Unfortunately we have to put up with their yearly inspections for the next five years in order to collect the government funding. After five years, Artie says this town will be so well established we won’t need it, and they won’t be able to come and
inspect
us. The good news is they can’t send us any more parolees.”

The chief nodded. “Well, it’s something at least.”

Hugo agreed, “Yep.”

The chief leaned forward and glared at Myrna. “What did you do with Warren Measly’s remains?

“He was cremated.”

“Did you hold a ceremony?”

“Yes, it was touching.” She glanced at Hugo and noticed he was squirming and withholding laughter.

The chief stood, put his hat on, and left her office with the promise to contact her if any new evidence arose. He wanted to inspect Warren’s property one more time before the cleaning crew took over. The little man had been a mischievous gremlin and, the chief was now convinced he had been the killer all along. He also reminded Myrna not to forget her police radio when she left for home. He had assigned Hugo to stand guard over her and her family while she was there. He then backpedaled and threw some money on the desk. “Have someone deliver some coffee and treats to the station for the boys on duty.”

As soon as he left, Myrna called Artie up to her office. When he arrived, Myrna slid him the money and asked him to deliver some coffee and goods to the police station. Donnie would know what to pack up.

After he left, Hugo remarked, “I love the fact Artie doesn’t trip all over, or wince anymore when reading stuff.

“Yep, he’s doing great. Let’s pack up and head home.”