| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted March 28, 2024 | Chapters: |
3 4 -5- 6... 
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Willow Creek is a small town with many secrets
A chapter in the book The Unwilling Heir
The Unwilling Heir - Chap 5
by Begin Again
ENDING OF CHAPTER 4
"Something is happening in this house, and I need - no, I deserve - to know what it is. How do you and Lorrie know about this book?" Sandra demanded, her voice betraying her suspicion.
"I'm not at liberty to tell you about the book right now, but I promise you'll learn the truth soon."
"Are the men you introduced me to at the cemetery involved?" Sandra probed further.
"Indirectly, I suppose," James replied. "Let's go to the dining room before Lorrie starts lecturing us again." Sandra followed James to the dining room, her curiosity piqued and her guard up. She could sense that something ominous was brewing, and she braced herself for what was to come.
You can't stop me from getting answers that easy, James! I smell a story, and it's a good one.
*****
CHAPTER 5
Sandra marveled at the luxurious spread Lorrie had prepared for their tea — gleaming silver trays filled with dainty cucumber sandwiches, warm scones slathered with raspberry jam, and bite-sized cakes.
"Lorrie, this is not just a simple cup of tea. It's a grand feast," Sandra exclaimed.
Lorrie smiled with pride. "My mom taught me to treat guests with something special. I wanted to welcome you in style, but don't be expecting such extravagance every day."
"Oh, I wouldn't." Sandra looked at both of them with a hint of apprehension. "I'm not sure if I'll be staying yet. It depends on what either of you has to say."
Lorrie glanced at James, wiped her hands on her apron, and nodded at Sandra. "I'd like to stay, deary, but I've got a pot on the stove. I'll leave the talking to James."
"As if you haven't already said enough," James muttered, clearly annoyed. Lorrie snorted and left the room in a huff, leaving Sandra and James alone.
James stared at the teacup, not knowing where to start and what he should share with Sandra. Sensing his hesitance, she decided to stir the pot and jump right in. "You said you couldn't talk about the book, but you know about it, right?"
James nodded. "Noah asked that I come to live in the carriage house. We'd met long ago, and he knew I dabbled in writing."
"You're a writer? I'd have never guessed. Any writer I've met always has a lot to say, and you tend to limit your words."
"I prefer to put my thoughts on paper. That way, if I speak out of turn, I can make a correction before anyone reads it, unlike Lorrie, whose chattering has gotten us to this point."
"Don't be so hard on her." Sandra sipped her tea and chose a scone from the tray. As she nibbled at the edges, she decided what to say. "You must know I've read the book, not every detail, but enough. I also learned about Judge Parker's untimely death. Didn't you think I'd be suspicious of all of you, especially another man claiming to be the deceased?"
"To be honest, we never considered you'd go to his office. I guess that was a major flaw on my part."
"So, you didn't know about the book or didn't expect me to find it, which is it?"
"I'd been told about the book but had no idea of its whereabouts. Have you shared its contents with anyone else, by any chance?"
"If you are referring to my boss, absolutely not. Annie, my assistant, knows, of course. Why does it matter?"
"You read it, so I would assume that some dangerous people might not look favorably on the book or on you. Can you see how troublesome this can be?" James rested his forehead against his hands. Forgive me; I should never have brought you into this."
She could see James's discomfort and expected badgering him wouldn't get her what she wanted to know. So, she decided on a different approach. "Okay, we table the conversation about the book and the Judge for now."
James raised his head and looked across the table at her. "I promise you'll learn everything I know, but I can't tell you now. It would have been safer for you if you hadn't discovered it."
"Can you enlighten me as to why Noah left the mansion to me? Why not his wife?"
James raised his left eyebrow, followed by a slight frown. "So much for tabling the questions," he said.
"Sorry, I'm just trying to understand what's going on. You brought me here for a reason, but now you don't want to tell me why. Am I to stumble about the property until I trip and find something." Sandra's eyes lit up, and suddenly, she seemed far away. She mused, "Maybe hidden bodies or some great treasure? Or is the mansion haunted? Now that would be a story!"
James bolted from his chair as if he'd been sitting on a whoopie cushion. He spun away from the table and then back, grasping to regain his composure. "Dead bodies! Treasure! Ghosts! Ridiculous!" James walked away, muttering. "Now, which one of us is the writer?"
"You must admit if the book has anything to do with this house, the crime bosses could have buried anything here — well, couldn't they have?"
"I assure you I know of no crim—" James rethought his words. "You'll not find any Bugsy Malone, Pretty Boy Floyd, or the likes around here."
He huffed and walked around the room, examining small trinkets, arranging a row of books, and stopping to gaze through the window. He was calmer when he spoke again, "You haven't seen the property yet, but it's beautiful. I fell in love with the rose garden the moment I saw it. Noah knew I loved this place. He also knew he was ill, and his days were numbered." He stood silent for several minutes and then returned to the table. "Noah transferred the deed into my name almost a year ago."
"Your name! Now I am baffled." Sandra sipped some tea, letting the hot brew clear her throat. "Then — why was it willed to me?"
"The only thing Noah was concerned about was my writing and Madeline not getting the property. He knew he was dying, another secret he kept from his wife. Or thought he did!"
"If the house were in your name, Madeline wouldn't have a claim to it. And why was your writing so important to him?"
"Noah believed the mansion had a secret hidden within its walls, a treasure of sorts." A sigh escaped his lips. It's not dead bodies either, though there is a small cemetery on the property, up on the hill. As you were asking, I've been trying to uncover information, but I'm not an investigator. Unfortunately, Madeline found some papers Noah was reading and learned about the possible treasure. She'd rip every wall down, if she could, searching."
"So, this is about a treasure hunt?"
"It was — until Noah was murdered." He watched Sandra's reaction. It was precisely what he expected.
She gasped. "Murdered? Was there an investigation? Who did it?" Sandra was stunned, uncovering two murders in one day and a treasure. "Don't stop now!"
"Noah and I usually share our morning coffee in the garden. It was drizzling that day, and he didn't come to the carriage house. I heard someone screaming as I approached the house. I hurried in and found Lorrie kneeling next to Noah's body."
"You said he was ill. What made you think it was murder?"
"I didn't right then. Madeline heard Lorrie's screams and came rushing downstairs. Lorrie was about to call for an ambulance, but Madeline grabbed the phone out of her hand and ordered her to return to the kitchen."
"Of course, Lorrie was fuming, but she does know her place with Madeline. She left. On the other hand, I was stunned when she also asked me to leave. She said she would make the calls and handle everything herself since she was his wife."
"Strange, but as his wife, I imagine she had every right. Maybe she was overwhelmed with grief and didn't want to fall apart in front of either of you."
"I'll give you that since you don't know Madeline."
"I did see her at the funeral. She appeared to be a very distraught widow."
"You and everyone attending the funeral saw what Madeline wanted them to see."
"That still doesn't explain why you think Noah was murdered."
"The sheriff arrived about fifteen minutes after I left the house. He stayed for quite some time. An unmarked vehicle arrived about an hour later and took Noah's body away."
"Strange, but it still doesn't say murder."
"There's only one funeral home in Willow Creek, and when I called, I was told his body had not been brought there."
"What? Then where was he taken?" Sandra's head was spinning with questions.
"I've already said too much. I'm sorry. I've got some things to take care of. Maybe we could talk later." James stood and left the room without another word. Sandra watched him leave while her thoughts went wild.
*****
"Lorrie, I need some air. I think I'll drive into town. Don't hold dinner for me. Thanks for the wonderful tea and treats, though."
The housekeeper appeared in the kitchen doorway. "It'll be getting dark soon. You aren't familiar with the roads. Wouldn't a walk through the gardens suffice?"
"I'll be fine. Don't worry. I live in the big city and always go out at night."
Sandra waved, grabbed her sweater from her suitcase, and hurried outside to her car.
"Big city or not, dearie, it's not Willow Creek." She wiped her hands on her apron and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. "Please watch over her, my Lord."
*****
The drive into town wasn't long and Sandra soon found herself sitting inside Petunia's Coffee Shop. She'd chosen a window view. Maybe people-watching would help her calm her nerves. She had so many questions.
Did Noah die because he was ill, or was he murdered like James suspects? Maybe the detective could check the records and see what the death certificate said. What would it hurt if I called and asked? What was his name? Think, Sandra! Ryan — Ham — Ryan Hamilton.
The waitress approached with the coffee pot. "Got a fresh pot. Would you like a cup? We've got homemade blueberry or peach pie."
Sandra smiled. "Thank you. Just coffee and some sugar, please."
The girl cocked her head to the side and looked at Sandra, smiling. "I remember you. Weren't you at Noah's funeral?"
A pink glow spread across Sandra's cheeks. "I'm afraid I caused a scene."
"No, you didn't. That was all on Madeline's shoulders. She's a witch. Ms. Wakefield and her girlfriends meet here every Wednesday morning for coffee. She never has a nice thing to say about Noah or anyone else, for that matter. Never could figure out why a woman as young as her would marry an older man unless she was after his money. Looks like she didn't have to wait long."
"But she seemed so distraught. And the things she said —"
"Don't you give it another thought. None of the decent folks in this town believed a word she said."
"Thanks. That makes me feel a little better." Sandra thought for a moment and then asked, "Do you happen to have the police department's number?"
"You're not in trouble, are you?" The young waitress indeed seemed concerned. "Did Madeline Wakefield threaten you or something?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just wanted to ask Detective Hamilton a few questions. I met him after the funeral and —"
"After Noah's funeral? Are you sure it was Ryan Hamilton?"
"Well, I could be wrong, but I thought he introduced himself as Detective Hamilton."
"Hon, Madeline must have really shaken you up. Detective Hamilton was shot and killed during a traffic stop last year."
Sandra's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, you're right. Silly me!"
"I could get the sheriff if it's important."
"Oh, no! I probably got the name wrong. He said something I was curious about, nothing important."
"Enjoy your coffee, and don't worry about rushing out of here. It's really slow today. Can I get you anything else, a slice of pie or some warm cookies?" Sandra declined the offer, and the young girl moved away, leaving Sandra stunned once again.
What have I gotten myself involved in? A murdered judge and now a detective, not to mention the possibility that Noah Wakefield was murdered too. Maybe I am over my head! But before I leave this town, I'm going to meet those three men again and get some answers. Mark my words!
She took a sip of coffee and gazed out the window. Her mind was preoccupied with all the strange events since she received the letter. While she thought, she was drawn to people-watching.
Sandra jumped at the sound of a voice beside her. The young waitress stood near Sandra's table as she spoke, "There's our grieving widow now." She chuckled and added, "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." She laughed again and walked away.
Sandra turned her head so she could see Madeline getting out of the car. Without her black veil, she looked different today, much younger and sexier. Sandra's attention shifted to the passenger getting out of the passenger seat. He walked around to the driver's side, laughing and saying something to Madeline. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss. It wasn't a friendly peck on the cheek; instead, they locked lips in a passionate show of affection.
Sandra choked on her coffee and spewed it all over the table, shocked by what she saw. She could see he was in uniform.
Very interesting! Now, that wasn't a friendly kiss and hug by my standards. And your husband just died. Hmm! Was he the same officer who came to the mansion the day Noah died? Maybe I should have listened a little better to what James said about that day. Was the officer there to console the widow or to cover up a murder?
Sandra pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket and tossed it on the table.
What other secrets is this Willow Creek hiding?
ENDING OF CHAPTER 4
"Something is happening in this house, and I need - no, I deserve - to know what it is. How do you and Lorrie know about this book?" Sandra demanded, her voice betraying her suspicion.
"I'm not at liberty to tell you about the book right now, but I promise you'll learn the truth soon."
"Are the men you introduced me to at the cemetery involved?" Sandra probed further.
"Indirectly, I suppose," James replied. "Let's go to the dining room before Lorrie starts lecturing us again." Sandra followed James to the dining room, her curiosity piqued and her guard up. She could sense that something ominous was brewing, and she braced herself for what was to come.
You can't stop me from getting answers that easy, James! I smell a story, and it's a good one.
"Something is happening in this house, and I need - no, I deserve - to know what it is. How do you and Lorrie know about this book?" Sandra demanded, her voice betraying her suspicion.
"I'm not at liberty to tell you about the book right now, but I promise you'll learn the truth soon."
"Are the men you introduced me to at the cemetery involved?" Sandra probed further.
"Indirectly, I suppose," James replied. "Let's go to the dining room before Lorrie starts lecturing us again." Sandra followed James to the dining room, her curiosity piqued and her guard up. She could sense that something ominous was brewing, and she braced herself for what was to come.
You can't stop me from getting answers that easy, James! I smell a story, and it's a good one.
*****
CHAPTER 5
Sandra marveled at the luxurious spread Lorrie had prepared for their tea — gleaming silver trays filled with dainty cucumber sandwiches, warm scones slathered with raspberry jam, and bite-sized cakes.
"Lorrie, this is not just a simple cup of tea. It's a grand feast," Sandra exclaimed.
Lorrie smiled with pride. "My mom taught me to treat guests with something special. I wanted to welcome you in style, but don't be expecting such extravagance every day."
"Oh, I wouldn't." Sandra looked at both of them with a hint of apprehension. "I'm not sure if I'll be staying yet. It depends on what either of you has to say."
Lorrie glanced at James, wiped her hands on her apron, and nodded at Sandra. "I'd like to stay, deary, but I've got a pot on the stove. I'll leave the talking to James."
"As if you haven't already said enough," James muttered, clearly annoyed. Lorrie snorted and left the room in a huff, leaving Sandra and James alone.
James stared at the teacup, not knowing where to start and what he should share with Sandra. Sensing his hesitance, she decided to stir the pot and jump right in. "You said you couldn't talk about the book, but you know about it, right?"
James nodded. "Noah asked that I come to live in the carriage house. We'd met long ago, and he knew I dabbled in writing."
"You're a writer? I'd have never guessed. Any writer I've met always has a lot to say, and you tend to limit your words."
"I prefer to put my thoughts on paper. That way, if I speak out of turn, I can make a correction before anyone reads it, unlike Lorrie, whose chattering has gotten us to this point."
"Don't be so hard on her." Sandra sipped her tea and chose a scone from the tray. As she nibbled at the edges, she decided what to say. "You must know I've read the book, not every detail, but enough. I also learned about Judge Parker's untimely death. Didn't you think I'd be suspicious of all of you, especially another man claiming to be the deceased?"
"To be honest, we never considered you'd go to his office. I guess that was a major flaw on my part."
"So, you didn't know about the book or didn't expect me to find it, which is it?"
"I'd been told about the book but had no idea of its whereabouts. Have you shared its contents with anyone else, by any chance?"
"If you are referring to my boss, absolutely not. Annie, my assistant, knows, of course. Why does it matter?"
"You read it, so I would assume that some dangerous people might not look favorably on the book or on you. Can you see how troublesome this can be?" James rested his forehead against his hands. Forgive me; I should never have brought you into this."
She could see James's discomfort and expected badgering him wouldn't get her what she wanted to know. So, she decided on a different approach. "Okay, we table the conversation about the book and the Judge for now."
James raised his head and looked across the table at her. "I promise you'll learn everything I know, but I can't tell you now. It would have been safer for you if you hadn't discovered it."
"Can you enlighten me as to why Noah left the mansion to me? Why not his wife?"
James raised his left eyebrow, followed by a slight frown. "So much for tabling the questions," he said.
CHAPTER 5
Sandra marveled at the luxurious spread Lorrie had prepared for their tea — gleaming silver trays filled with dainty cucumber sandwiches, warm scones slathered with raspberry jam, and bite-sized cakes.
"Lorrie, this is not just a simple cup of tea. It's a grand feast," Sandra exclaimed.
Lorrie smiled with pride. "My mom taught me to treat guests with something special. I wanted to welcome you in style, but don't be expecting such extravagance every day."
"Oh, I wouldn't." Sandra looked at both of them with a hint of apprehension. "I'm not sure if I'll be staying yet. It depends on what either of you has to say."
Lorrie glanced at James, wiped her hands on her apron, and nodded at Sandra. "I'd like to stay, deary, but I've got a pot on the stove. I'll leave the talking to James."
"As if you haven't already said enough," James muttered, clearly annoyed. Lorrie snorted and left the room in a huff, leaving Sandra and James alone.
James stared at the teacup, not knowing where to start and what he should share with Sandra. Sensing his hesitance, she decided to stir the pot and jump right in. "You said you couldn't talk about the book, but you know about it, right?"
James nodded. "Noah asked that I come to live in the carriage house. We'd met long ago, and he knew I dabbled in writing."
"You're a writer? I'd have never guessed. Any writer I've met always has a lot to say, and you tend to limit your words."
"I prefer to put my thoughts on paper. That way, if I speak out of turn, I can make a correction before anyone reads it, unlike Lorrie, whose chattering has gotten us to this point."
"Don't be so hard on her." Sandra sipped her tea and chose a scone from the tray. As she nibbled at the edges, she decided what to say. "You must know I've read the book, not every detail, but enough. I also learned about Judge Parker's untimely death. Didn't you think I'd be suspicious of all of you, especially another man claiming to be the deceased?"
"To be honest, we never considered you'd go to his office. I guess that was a major flaw on my part."
"So, you didn't know about the book or didn't expect me to find it, which is it?"
"I'd been told about the book but had no idea of its whereabouts. Have you shared its contents with anyone else, by any chance?"
"If you are referring to my boss, absolutely not. Annie, my assistant, knows, of course. Why does it matter?"
"You read it, so I would assume that some dangerous people might not look favorably on the book or on you. Can you see how troublesome this can be?" James rested his forehead against his hands. Forgive me; I should never have brought you into this."
She could see James's discomfort and expected badgering him wouldn't get her what she wanted to know. So, she decided on a different approach. "Okay, we table the conversation about the book and the Judge for now."
James raised his head and looked across the table at her. "I promise you'll learn everything I know, but I can't tell you now. It would have been safer for you if you hadn't discovered it."
"Can you enlighten me as to why Noah left the mansion to me? Why not his wife?"
James raised his left eyebrow, followed by a slight frown. "So much for tabling the questions," he said.
"Sorry, I'm just trying to understand what's going on. You brought me here for a reason, but now you don't want to tell me why. Am I to stumble about the property until I trip and find something." Sandra's eyes lit up, and suddenly, she seemed far away. She mused, "Maybe hidden bodies or some great treasure? Or is the mansion haunted? Now that would be a story!"
James bolted from his chair as if he'd been sitting on a whoopie cushion. He spun away from the table and then back, grasping to regain his composure. "Dead bodies! Treasure! Ghosts! Ridiculous!" James walked away, muttering. "Now, which one of us is the writer?"
"You must admit if the book has anything to do with this house, the crime bosses could have buried anything here — well, couldn't they have?"
"I assure you I know of no crim—" James rethought his words. "You'll not find any Bugsy Malone, Pretty Boy Floyd, or the likes around here."
He huffed and walked around the room, examining small trinkets, arranging a row of books, and stopping to gaze through the window. He was calmer when he spoke again, "You haven't seen the property yet, but it's beautiful. I fell in love with the rose garden the moment I saw it. Noah knew I loved this place. He also knew he was ill, and his days were numbered." He stood silent for several minutes and then returned to the table. "Noah transferred the deed into my name almost a year ago."
"Your name! Now I am baffled." Sandra sipped some tea, letting the hot brew clear her throat. "Then — why was it willed to me?"
"The only thing Noah was concerned about was my writing and Madeline not getting the property. He knew he was dying, another secret he kept from his wife. Or thought he did!"
"If the house were in your name, Madeline wouldn't have a claim to it. And why was your writing so important to him?"
"Noah believed the mansion had a secret hidden within its walls, a treasure of sorts." A sigh escaped his lips. It's not dead bodies either, though there is a small cemetery on the property, up on the hill. As you were asking, I've been trying to uncover information, but I'm not an investigator. Unfortunately, Madeline found some papers Noah was reading and learned about the possible treasure. She'd rip every wall down, if she could, searching."
"So, this is about a treasure hunt?"
"It was — until Noah was murdered." He watched Sandra's reaction. It was precisely what he expected.
She gasped. "Murdered? Was there an investigation? Who did it?" Sandra was stunned, uncovering two murders in one day and a treasure. "Don't stop now!"
"Noah and I usually share our morning coffee in the garden. It was drizzling that day, and he didn't come to the carriage house. I heard someone screaming as I approached the house. I hurried in and found Lorrie kneeling next to Noah's body."
"You said he was ill. What made you think it was murder?"
"I didn't right then. Madeline heard Lorrie's screams and came rushing downstairs. Lorrie was about to call for an ambulance, but Madeline grabbed the phone out of her hand and ordered her to return to the kitchen."
"Of course, Lorrie was fuming, but she does know her place with Madeline. She left. On the other hand, I was stunned when she also asked me to leave. She said she would make the calls and handle everything herself since she was his wife."
"Strange, but as his wife, I imagine she had every right. Maybe she was overwhelmed with grief and didn't want to fall apart in front of either of you."
"I'll give you that since you don't know Madeline."
"I did see her at the funeral. She appeared to be a very distraught widow."
"You and everyone attending the funeral saw what Madeline wanted them to see."
"That still doesn't explain why you think Noah was murdered."
"The sheriff arrived about fifteen minutes after I left the house. He stayed for quite some time. An unmarked vehicle arrived about an hour later and took Noah's body away."
"Strange, but it still doesn't say murder."
"There's only one funeral home in Willow Creek, and when I called, I was told his body had not been brought there."
"What? Then where was he taken?" Sandra's head was spinning with questions.
"I've already said too much. I'm sorry. I've got some things to take care of. Maybe we could talk later." James stood and left the room without another word. Sandra watched him leave while her thoughts went wild.
*****
"Lorrie, I need some air. I think I'll drive into town. Don't hold dinner for me. Thanks for the wonderful tea and treats, though."
The housekeeper appeared in the kitchen doorway. "It'll be getting dark soon. You aren't familiar with the roads. Wouldn't a walk through the gardens suffice?"
"I'll be fine. Don't worry. I live in the big city and always go out at night."
Sandra waved, grabbed her sweater from her suitcase, and hurried outside to her car.
"Big city or not, dearie, it's not Willow Creek." She wiped her hands on her apron and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. "Please watch over her, my Lord."
*****
The drive into town wasn't long and Sandra soon found herself sitting inside Petunia's Coffee Shop. She'd chosen a window view. Maybe people-watching would help her calm her nerves. She had so many questions.
Did Noah die because he was ill, or was he murdered like James suspects? Maybe the detective could check the records and see what the death certificate said. What would it hurt if I called and asked? What was his name? Think, Sandra! Ryan — Ham — Ryan Hamilton.
The waitress approached with the coffee pot. "Got a fresh pot. Would you like a cup? We've got homemade blueberry or peach pie."
Sandra smiled. "Thank you. Just coffee and some sugar, please."
The girl cocked her head to the side and looked at Sandra, smiling. "I remember you. Weren't you at Noah's funeral?"
A pink glow spread across Sandra's cheeks. "I'm afraid I caused a scene."
"No, you didn't. That was all on Madeline's shoulders. She's a witch. Ms. Wakefield and her girlfriends meet here every Wednesday morning for coffee. She never has a nice thing to say about Noah or anyone else, for that matter. Never could figure out why a woman as young as her would marry an older man unless she was after his money. Looks like she didn't have to wait long."
"But she seemed so distraught. And the things she said —"
"Don't you give it another thought. None of the decent folks in this town believed a word she said."
"Thanks. That makes me feel a little better." Sandra thought for a moment and then asked, "Do you happen to have the police department's number?"
"You're not in trouble, are you?" The young waitress indeed seemed concerned. "Did Madeline Wakefield threaten you or something?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just wanted to ask Detective Hamilton a few questions. I met him after the funeral and —"
"After Noah's funeral? Are you sure it was Ryan Hamilton?"
"Well, I could be wrong, but I thought he introduced himself as Detective Hamilton."
"Hon, Madeline must have really shaken you up. Detective Hamilton was shot and killed during a traffic stop last year."
Sandra's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, you're right. Silly me!"
"I could get the sheriff if it's important."
"Oh, no! I probably got the name wrong. He said something I was curious about, nothing important."
"Enjoy your coffee, and don't worry about rushing out of here. It's really slow today. Can I get you anything else, a slice of pie or some warm cookies?" Sandra declined the offer, and the young girl moved away, leaving Sandra stunned once again.
What have I gotten myself involved in? A murdered judge and now a detective, not to mention the possibility that Noah Wakefield was murdered too. Maybe I am over my head! But before I leave this town, I'm going to meet those three men again and get some answers. Mark my words!
She took a sip of coffee and gazed out the window. Her mind was preoccupied with all the strange events since she received the letter. While she thought, she was drawn to people-watching.
Sandra jumped at the sound of a voice beside her. The young waitress stood near Sandra's table as she spoke, "There's our grieving widow now." She chuckled and added, "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." She laughed again and walked away.
Sandra turned her head so she could see Madeline getting out of the car. Without her black veil, she looked different today, much younger and sexier. Sandra's attention shifted to the passenger getting out of the passenger seat. He walked around to the driver's side, laughing and saying something to Madeline. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss. It wasn't a friendly peck on the cheek; instead, they locked lips in a passionate show of affection.
Sandra choked on her coffee and spewed it all over the table, shocked by what she saw. She could see he was in uniform.
Very interesting! Now, that wasn't a friendly kiss and hug by my standards. And your husband just died. Hmm! Was he the same officer who came to the mansion the day Noah died? Maybe I should have listened a little better to what James said about that day. Was the officer there to console the widow or to cover up a murder?
Sandra pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket and tossed it on the table.
What other secrets is this Willow Creek hiding?
 Recognized |
Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
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