A Date With Fate (48 page)

I turned back to my left and asked Crooks, “What time was the second call, do you know?”

Crookie’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes, it was right before seven thirty that same morning.”

Jazy asked, “Did your friend tell you where the farm is located? Was it out my way south of town?”

“No, I am not sure where it is located, but east off Highway 19 was mentioned. I do not know the names of the teenagers, so I have no point of reference.”

Surprisingly, James spoke up. “What would cause a woman to leave a bakery in Northfield at approximately 7:00 AM, make a call on her cell at 7:05 AM, and drive to a deserted farm in the country east of town, only to be murdered in her car while making a call to that same person by 7:30 AM?”

Reg nodded vigorously. “Couldn’t have put it better myself. Cheryl wasn’t a country girl, that’s for sure, right Crookie?”

“That is definitely for sure. Cheryl hated anything to do with the country.”

Tre asked tentatively, “She wasn’t raped?”

Aunt Lily made a loud, snorting explosion from her nose, but before she could speak Crookie rushed to reassure Tre. “No, nothing like that happened. I was told there were no signs of an attack, or a struggle. Only the single stab wound.” He picked up his fork again, sighing quietly. “That is all I know. It is no secret that my marriage to Cheryl was over. My only hope is the police catch the murderer quickly, so I can put this behind me and move on.”

After a moment of silence, I raised my glass of wine. “Here’s to peace for Cheryl and closure for Crookie.”

Everyone seconded the toast and took a drink, except for Aunt Lily who didn’t look up from her soup and salad.

Reg raised his beer. “Here’s to police proficiency. Good luck with that!”

We all laughingly cheered and took another drink.

I nodded towards James. “Your statement made a succinct case for someone hijacking her out to this barn to purposely kill her, since nothing else was stolen. Or she went willingly, and was killed by someone non-threatening to her.”

“Thank you, Anabel.” James replied, expressionless as always.

I didn’t respond to his lightly mocking tone but looked out towards the living room, my gaze turned inward. “It’s interesting the killer didn’t take her phone. Having it found under the seat makes me question if the killer was aware of the last call. I wonder if it was an attempt for help, or if she was all ready calling when the killer stabbed her and she then dropped her cell. Does anybody know how quickly you die if you’re heart is punctured?”

Over a mouthful of soup Tre J immediately mumbled, ‘Seconds to minutes, depending where in the heart you are stabbed. It also depends if the weapon is left in, or pulled out.”

I blinked at her unhesitating answer, but then Jazy caught my interest when she said to Crookie, “Okay, I’ve been thinking. Cheryl’s killer could be the man you saw her with at Tina’s, don’t you agree?”

Crookie thought it over. “It could be him, but Cheryl,” his head shook in sad reflection, “was too indiscriminate to pin it on that particular man without knowing more facts.”

Visibly shaking, Aunt Lily shouted from her end of the table. “She was the great Whore of Babylon!” She stood up, her cane rising in the air. “And there came one of the seven angels, and talked with me, saying unto me, Come Hither; I will shew unto thee the judgment of the great whore that sitteth!”

Everyone was stunned speechless as Aunt Lily stood and spewed out these words. It was extremely strange behavior even for her. She seemed overcome with violent emotion, but I doubted she even knew Cheryl except maybe in passing.

Luke showed off his bible study talents when he said in an undertone, “Interesting. She’s misquoting Revelations 17:1.”

“Hush, Baal, or anyone could think you were a pastor’s kid.”

A large hand sliding high on my thigh, and squeezing with no problem, was his response to me. Luke was chuckling softly at hearing Crookie’s placidly agreeable response to Aunt Lily.

“Yes Ma’am, that is probably as good as description as any to describe Cheryl’s unfortunate behavior.”

Standing at the end of the table, her features brutally hard, Aunt Lily regarded Crookie in silence for a long moment. Then her voice started low and rose in volume with every word until she was screaming, “You should be thankful she is dead! The scripture said she deserved to die! She was an Adulteress, a terrible wife, and she broke every sacred commandment!” She stopped abruptly, leaning both hands on the table before her and gasping. She looked up under her heavy, caterpillar brows and hissed, “She made Anna cry.”

Unlike discussing the details of a murder--religion, politics, or being publically named a Crybaby are not relaxing topics for the dinner table. Anna’s face was stricken. Even Crookie was at a loss how to respond courteously to this latest proclamation. Everyone was uncomfortably silent, and a few mouths were hanging open. I glimpsed Diego crossing himself and reaching for my sister’s hand.

Her words had brought to my mind Aunt Lily’s special visit to Bel’s yesterday with the same bakery item to lord over Anna. Since I am an admitted tormentor that does not rest, even on a Sunday, I spoke up to lighten the mood.

“Speaking of terrible things, I told you their “Crullers” were terrible at the Northfield Bakery, Aunt Lily. Even the great Whore of Babylon could figure this out after one bite.”

It flashed through my mind the date of Cheryl’s death was the same day I met Luke at Reggie’s house. Not that I had recorded that September date in my Dear Diary, but our first date later that night was rather hard to forget since it was rated X. I recalled Aunt Lily had brought us a bag of cookies that morning to the store right when we opened at ten. I had taken the cookies to Reggie’s house knowing he’d eat them.

I opened my mouth to pour salt in the wound and remind her of the “dry, tasteless cookies” also from the Northfield Bakery, but Aunt Lily had grabbed her cane again. She was whacking it on the floor beside her in time to her thundering, bellowing words. “Those Cruellers were not stale, Anabel Axelrod! The Pastry Chef went to school in New York City, not some two-bit…”

The Behemoth’s yelling continued unabated, but I heard Anna’s gasp next to me. She was ignoring the latest ranting from her relative because she must have been thinking the same thing I was. The date for her was probably etched in her heart since she and Reggie broke off their new relationship because of the murdered Whore of Babylon the previous night.

Aunt Lily’s cane slamming and whacking was taking place on James’ side of the table. He slid his chair far to his right side and crowded Jazy to save his feet. He glared reproachfully at me for riling the Beast. I couldn’t hide my grin fast enough behind my wine glass. I wondered if he was happy he’d joined us for our little family dinner.

I observed James, Jazy, Reggie, Tre J, and Crookie on one side of the table, along with Diego, Eric George, and Stella on the other. All of their heads were swiveling back and forth in time to the conversation coming from either end of the long table like they were watching a tennis match broadcast from Hades. They all had round eyes the size of their soup bowls.

Anna’s loud voice interrupted Mac’s appeasing attempts to calm down Aunt Lily’s screaming, incoherent tirade on culinary schools and whores. Jack was really going to be bummed he’d stayed away tonight.

Anna bellowed to be heard over her aunt’s screams. I could practically see Anna thinking out loud. “Hold on a minute, wait a minute! SETTLE DOWN, AUNT LILY!” Miraculously, Aunt Lily quit screaming although she was still furiously wielding her cane. “Didn’t you bring cookies to the Fare that day from Northfield Bakery? I know it was in the morning.” Anna bounced forward enthusiastically in her seat. She spoke even louder in her growing excitement. “Don’t you go to the bakery early before Saturday church? Oh, my god! THINK, Aunt Lily, did
you
see Cheryl there at the bakery that morning before she was murdered?”

I felt Luke stiffen beside me and murmur, “I’ll be damned.”

Aunt Lily’s face drained of color before us. Her small, black eyes burning with spiteful hate looked everywhere but at Anna while she mumbled, “I did the right thing. The Angel came…that whore deserv…”

Her cane stilled, and then fell out of her clenched hand and onto the floor with a thud. She stared wildly around the table, her mouth opening and closing with no sound except the gasp of her heavy, labored breathing. Skin ashen gray, her eyes then rolled into the back of her head until only the whites showed. I thought she was about to speak in tongues, which to be fair to myself she has been known to do upon occasion.

This time, she let out a long, unearthly groan. Hands pressing convulsively against her chest, Aunt Lily dropped heavily with no warning. Her chair was previously pushed back behind her. We all heard the horrible smacking sound when her skull connected with the wooden edge. She was out of my sight on the floor.

James, Diego and Mac reached Aunt Lily first.

Mac’s even, calm voice declared, “I think she had a heart attack. I can’t find a pulse. Somebody call 911. Here, Diego and James, help me turn her slightly.”

Before Aunt Lily had even hit the ground, Luke had shot out of his chair with his phone to his ear. He strode swiftly around the table. “I’m calling, Mac. Nobody touch her cane.”

He plucked a few linen napkins off the sideboard and bent over. Straightening up with the cane wrapped in the napkins, he took it over and laid it carefully on the sideboard. He rapped out clipped instructions to 911 into his phone. He stepped a few feet away and observed Mac’s ministrations as he made another call.

Anna and I were right behind him. He said quietly to us, “I’m calling Jack.”

In the confusion of the next moments, I stood silently arm-in-arm with Anna. She was rocking back and forth in agitation while we kept watch on the activity occurring around the stricken Aunt Lily. Every few seconds, we’d look at each other with the knowledge of what we suspected in our shocked faces. My mind kept repeatedly playing the last few minutes before Aunt Lily crashed to the floor.

My brother came up on the other side of Anna and put his arms around her. With a cry, she turned gratefully into his sheltering warmth.

Our eyes met. I nodded in approval at his move.

He mouthed in disbelief, “Aunt Lily killed Cheryl?”

Shrugging, I mouthed, “I think so.”

I realized we were all arriving at the same conclusion. Luke only reinforced our belief when he’d snatched up the cane and put it aside as the probable murder weapon.

Jazy and Tre J stood silently across the table from us. They had Crookie between them, each holding onto an arm of my tall friend in protective support. Stella and Eric George stayed seated down on my left, but huddled together. Everyone’s faces were drawn as we watched the life and death drama unfolding on the floor at the foot of the table. Crookie had seen my sweeping look, and he nodded back solemnly to me. His mouth was a tight, grim line. He could be getting his closure faster than we ever dreamed possible. The surreal was becoming commonplace.

I went to stand by my niece. I squeezed her shoulder in soft question and patted Eric George’s. They nodded they were fine, Stella reaching up to rub my hand in return. After a final pat, I turned away.

I walked back over to Luke. “I need to do something. I’ll be over opening the doors for the ambulance.”

He was watching Mac and Diego performing CPR. James knelt next to them, ready to assist if Mac gave the word. I could tell by her voice as Mac worked that my sister knew Aunt Lily was dead, but was following the correct emergency medical procedures for a heart attack victim.

“Good idea.” Luke walked with me.

At the intercom, I unlocked the doors for the EMT’s and police.

Luke pulled me close. “Her cane really is a sword stick, huh? You mentioned her slicing and dicing a few weeks ago. I took it as a joke until tonight. Then it hit me when Anna asked her if she was at the Bakery that morning.”

“Yes, it is.” I swallowed. “I’ve haven’t seen the blade in years, but it’s something we’ve always known. Do we really think Aunt Lily stabbed Cheryl Crookston and killed her?”

Luke tightened his arms and replied, “I’m leaning that way based on what I’ve heard tonight. The police will investigate, but that’s my take. Do you think she murdered Cheryl?”

“It makes sense. Too bad she keeled over before finishing her last sentence. She appeared to be heading in the confession direction.”

Luke bent his head to mine for a lingering, soft kiss. “How are you holding up?” His voice was dry. “Still think our dates are ho-hum?”

I pressed against him with a short laugh. I thought over how I was holding up. “Maybe I should be more shocked. I should at least be sorry she’s dead, but I’m neither.” We were so close together, I had to tilt my head back to see his face when I confided quietly, “I’ve always considered her an evil troll and I’m not going to pretend I’ll miss her just because she’s dead.” I frowned at my next thought. “I do feel bad for goading her tonight if she was ill.” I ran my hands distractedly through Luke’s short hair on either side of his face. “I didn’t realize how off the deep end she really was until recently. Was it obvious to you?”

Luke’s gaze was warm as he smiled down at me. “I can always count on an honest answer from you, can’t I?” Before I had time to answer that tricky question, Luke continued speaking. “She was out of control long before you said anything, so don’t worry over that, Anabel.” His warm hands massaged my sore, lower back. “Yes, the more she yelled, it became pretty damn clear she was eight up. I’m not surprised she had the heart attack. Her stress levels had to be off the charts.”

I arched my back under his capable hands. I was sure if he’d only continue touching me like this, I’d never worry again about anything. I was about to ask Luke what ‘ate up’ meant, when his cell vibrated. He released one arm around my waist to answer. Looking at the message, his face darkened and he swore softly. His head came up and I knew.

I joked halfheartedly, “I want to meet the schedule-Nazi on the other end of these texts. Their timing is becoming ridiculously annoying.”