Spawn With the Wind, page 2
part #5 of Matchmaker Marriage Mysteries Series
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.
“Only sixty-nine years old,” Ewan said. “Only sixty-nine with no problems except for high blood pressure and cholesterol.”
Pam nodded. “And then she died of bone cancer. It came up unexpectedly.”
“I’m glad you weren’t here when it happened,” I said.
Pam touched her chest. “Can you imagine? They would have probably murdered us in our living room.”
Remington passed us to dust for fingerprints in the house.
“Any idea who did it?” I asked Ewan just as Spencer walked in.
“This is a surprise,” he said to me, sounding like it wasn’t a good surprise.
“I was just walking by,” I explained.
“How about I meet you at home for lunch,” he said, like he wasn’t upset at all that I was at his crime scene. “I’ll bring home food.”
“Don’t go home!” Ewan cried. “You could be next. We weren’t the first, you know. There’s been a couple of other burglaries in the neighborhood.”
I caught Spencer looking at me. I hadn’t heard about the other burglaries, which meant that he had hidden them from me, and for some reason, my grandmother hadn’t heard about them, either.
“Really?” I asked.
Pam hugged me again. “Save yourself. Protect Zelda. It could be you next, and this time you might be home, and they’ll carve you and Zelda up like a turkey right there in your kitchen.”
I shivered. Suddenly, my mood darkened. My day-before-my-birthday rush of happiness disappeared completely. Spencer rushed me out, and I ran home. Grandma was waiting for me at the door.
“Break-ins!” we shouted in unison.
“I just heard about them,” Grandma said. She was wearing a knockoff Yves Saint Laurent cocktail dress that was a size too small for her.
“We have to fortify the house,” I told her.
“Booby traps,” she agreed. “We need to fill the house with them. It’s all hands on deck.” I walked into the house. Grandma had already set up a device just inside with a bucket, a rope, and a sandbag. “That’ll give us time.”
“Can you believe there’s crime in the Historic District? I mean, I’m used to murders, but burglaries? Break-ins?”
“I have to tell you that I’m honestly shocked, and that doesn’t happen very often to me.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Between the two of us, we’ll catch these criminals before they strike again.”
“And Spencer, too,” Grandma reminded me. “The police will help.”
“Oh, sure. They’ll help, too. Maybe.”
Chapter 2
Boom! That’s what love can be like. It hits you out of nowhere with no warning. In one second, your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. And there’s no turning back from that, bubbeleh. No turning back at all. Not after the boom. Have you noticed that life is like that, too? From here to there can pass in a split second. From here to there can take a person unawares. They become dizzy, out of breath, disoriented. They’re not prepared for the upheaval and the change. They haven’t acclimated, yet. When that happens, there’s nothing to do but hold their hand until they catch their breath and can cope again. That’s your job, dolly. You’re the hand-holder. You’re the one to make the transition a smooth one so they can think clearly and move on with their life.
– Lesson 64, Wedding Business Advice From
Your Grandma Zelda
I was awake, but I kept my eyes closed because I knew it was early, and there was no reason to get up early. It was my birthday, and I was very proud of myself for never doing anything on my birthday. Besides, it was cozy in my bed. Spencer was lying next to me, and he was still asleep. Our bedroom window was open, and there was a cool morning breeze in the room, and it was warm in our bed. I cuddled up next to him and enjoyed being with him. He was a large presence of hard planes and edges. Spencer was naturally gifted that way, physically fit and muscular, without much need to work out. That made him happy. He was a confirmed metrosexual, always well-dressed, and it pleased him to be handsome, almost as much as it pleased me that he was handsome.
There was a smell of coffee brewing and Danish warming wafting up from downstairs. My stomach growled. Cuddling was one thing, but coffee and Danish in the morning with my grandmother was a totally different thing. My stomach growled to prove to me which side I was on.
Coffee and Danish with Grandma and then I could get on Annie’s murder problem, in addition to accepting all birthday gifts and parties that anyone wants to give me. But I had to admit that a juicy almost-maybe murder-to-come had my attention more than presents and parties. I tried to get a read on Annie’s situation, but nothing was coming to me. Nothing. My brain was a big blank. Then, I thought about getting dressed, but I didn’t know what to wear. I didn’t know what the weather was going to be.
I didn’t know what the weather was going to be?
I didn’t know what the weather was going to be!
I was drawing a complete blank. It was pitch black in my head. Dark.
I pushed my index finger between my eyes and tried to concentrate on the weather, but nothing came to me. Then, I tried to concentrate on dinner, because I was usually right about that. But nothing came to me. I pushed harder on my forehead. Nothing about Annie, nothing about weddings or matches or professional sports teams.
My radar was completely gone.
My third eye was on the fritz. Condemned. Totalled.
I was blind.
I sat up in bed and screamed.
It wasn’t a there’s-a-spider-in-my-bed kind of scream. It was much louder, and it went on for a while, like I had amazing breath control, like an opera singer or a deep-sea diver. I continued screaming after Spencer woke up with a start, and I continued screaming as he jumped out of bed, grabbed his gun, and searched for assailants. Then, I continued screaming as he tried to figure out why I was screaming and then later, when he tried to shut me up.
I didn’t stop screaming until my grandmother came into the room and took my hand. The connection with her calmness settled me enough to stop the screaming, but I was still having the world’s worst panic attack. I felt like half of my body was gone. I felt naked, but not in a good way.
“You’re having a blind day,” Grandma told me.
I knew about blind days. My grandmother had them once or twice a year, and they laid her out. She would spend the day in bed and not dare move from the house until she could see again.
“This isn’t a blind day,” I told her. “It’s so much worse than a blind day. I think I’m dying. I must be dying. I’m dying from something that takes away my third eye, but it’s deadly. It’s killing me.”
As I spoke, my panic rose even more in me. With it, I lost the feeling in my fingers, and I heard a whoosh-whoosh in my ears. I wanted to run screaming down the street, but I was too afraid to move.
“I don’t think it’s a blind day, Zelda,” Spencer said. “She’s lost all color in her face. I’m going to take her to the hospital.”
“It’s a blind day,” she told him, firmly. “I’m not having a blind day, so I know. It’s a scary thing, especially the first time it happens. My first time, I ran a 104 fever, and I punched a police horse.”
Spencer got back on the bed and hugged me. I couldn’t hug him back because I was clutching the sheet too tightly, and I was afraid to let it go.
“Let’s get her dressed and downstairs,” Grandma said. “I’ve got coffee and Danish for her. It should take the edge off enough so her eyes won’t do that thing.”
I didn’t know what my eyes were doing, and I was afraid to ask. In fact, I didn’t think I could ask because I was sure that if I opened my mouth, something would fall out. Like my pancreas or the rest of my sanity.
Spencer dressed me in a pair of his sweatpants and his Padres hoodie. He helped me walk to the bathroom, and he braced me for support while I peed. After, he helped me walk downstairs, more or less holding me up. I kept my eyes closed because now that my sixth sense had been taken away, I couldn’t handle any of my other senses. They were on overload and almost hurt to use.
That worked well for taste, however. When I finally took a bite of Danish, the sweet, fatty yumminess calmed me enough that I could open my eyes. Grandma and Spencer sat across from me, and they were staring at me intently, as if I was about to explode or spin my head around and vomit split pea soup.
“I don’t like blind days,” I said.
“I’m calling in to work,” Spencer said. “I’ll stay with you until this is over.”
“I’ve cancelled all of my appointments for today,” Grandma said. “And I let everyone know about your blind day, so you can have support.”
I chewed on my Danish, but Spencer wasn’t eating. He had a look of horror on his face. “Everyone? Who, everyone, Zelda?” he asked.
“You know. Everyone.”
“Don’t you think Gladie needs quiet today? Shouldn’t she rest today?” he asked. He had lost color in his face, too.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think she needs everyone.”
As if on cue, the front door opened, and there was a stampede of footsteps toward us. Ruth and my best friends, Lucy and Bridget, appeared.
“What the hell happened to you?” Ruth demanded. “You look like you swallowed a gallon of white paint. Did your blood stop moving? I knew a guy whose blood stopped moving. It didn’t end well for him. Blood is supposed to move, you know.”
“Uh,” I said and took another Danish off the platter. The thought of my blood not moving was making me panic more.
“It’s a blind day,” Grandma explained to her.
Ruth plopped down on the chair next to me. “I don’t believe in blind days or third eyes or the damned Gift. I believe in intuition and intelligence.” She grabbed my shoulders and gave me a shake. “So, snap out of it, girl! It’s all in your mind.”
Spencer sighed. “I don’t think you’re helping, Ruth.”
She let go of me. “Fine. Gladie is having a blind day. I’ll play with your delusions. When Zelda has a blind day, she stays in bed and gets delivery pizza. Why isn’t Gladie doing that?”
“That’s not going to work with Gladie today,” Grandma said with utter certainty.
Bridget gave me a big hug and sat down on the other side of me. She took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”
Bridget had the biggest heart on the planet. She was my best friend and a die-hard bleeding heart. She always sought justice in the world, so I imagined this injustice that was happening to me was driving her crazy.
She pushed her large hoot owl glasses up the bridge of her nose and scrunched up her eyes, so all I could see was her blue eye shadow. “I wish I could do something to help you.”
“Of course, we can do something!” my other best friend Lucy cried. She was a southern belle, and she was decked out in a peach chiffon, flowy dress, and peach slingback pumps. Peach was her signature color. “I’ll call my masseur. He’ll rub the blind right out of her.”
My hairdresser, Bird, came in, followed by a few other friends. “I heard all about it through the grapevine, Gladie,” she announced. “I’ll make you a smoothie. Antioxidants are what you need!”
Spencer stood up and waved his hands, like he was directing traffic. “I don’t think this is what Gladie needs. Fred? Remington? Why are you two here?”
Fred Lytton was the police desk sergeant. “I’m here because I heard that Underwear Girl had a problem. I’m here to help, Underwear Girl.”
I was called Underwear Girl because of an unfortunate incident with a plastic owl and stretch pants that stretched too much.
Spencer slapped his forehead. “She doesn’t need your help, Fred. Or yours either, Remington.”
Remington was one of Spencer’s detectives, and he took up a lot of room in the kitchen. Harry, Lucy’s husband, and Sister Cyril made room for him, but I noticed that Meryl the Librarian moved closer to him. It was like a town meeting in the kitchen. Everyone was standing cheek by jowl.
“I’m here because there’s been a murder, boss,” Remington said in his deep baritone voice.
There was a communal gasp in the kitchen, and all heads turned toward me, as if I was Serena Williams at Wimbledon, and I had just made a great serve. I had a reputation in town as a murder magnet. I sort of fell over dead bodies and then figured out who killed them in a roundabout way.
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “I’m blind, remember?”
Another wave of panic hit me, and I took another Danish off the plate and held it like it was a security blanket.
“Annie Benoit was murdered during a burglary,” Remington continued. “Strangled. All the jewelry is gone. I’m going over there now.”
All eyes turned to me again.
“Oh, come on, people,” Spencer barked. “Are you kidding me? Do you really expect Gladie to solve a mystery in her state? Don’t you have any confidence in your police department?”
There was the sound of a few feet-shuffling, as everyone looked down at their feet. Then, it hit me like a thunderbolt. The Danish flew out of my hand, and I gripped onto the table for support.
“Did you say Annie Benoit? Oh, my God!” I cried.
“What is it?” Spencer asked, obviously concerned.
“She came to me yesterday. She said she had a feeling she was going to be killed. She was getting calls for burial insurance. And she had a feeling.”
Bridget gasped. Sister Cyril crossed herself.
Mayor Robinson walked in. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are we having a party?”
My grandmother gave the rundown to the mayor and everyone else about my blind day and about Annie’s feeling. Then, she stood in her blue housedress and blue plastic slip-on slippers and raised her voice with an awe-inspiring gravitas.
“My granddaughter has a blind day today. Her first blind day. She cannot get better with pizza and a dark, closed room. No, there is only one way for her to get better. This murder must be solved.”
“Holy crap,” Fred said. “She sounded just like Gandalf when she said that.”
Spencer rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Zelda, with all due respect, you can’t possibly expect Gladie to wander around town, butt into police business, and track down a murderer like she normally does. Not in her current state. Look at her. She looks like she needs a doctor.”
“No,” Grandma said, shaking her head firmly. “She needs the murder to be solved. It needs to be done today. It all has to be wrapped up by midnight.”
“Like Cinderella,” Meryl breathed.
“Like that TV show with Kiefer Sutherland,” Harry said.
“Like lunatics in an asylum,” Ruth grumbled.
“We are going to solve it for Gladie,” my grandmother continued.
“What?” Bridget asked.
Lucy hopped up and down on her heels. “I love where you’re going with this, Zelda. I love it. We’re going to solve it for Gladie. I’ve been training for this for years, ever since I met Gladie four years ago. I’ve got my taser and my ninja outfit for night missions all ready to go.”
Spencer groaned. “No taser, Lucy. No ninja outfits.”
“I’m confused,” the mayor said. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to solve a murder today,” Sister Cyril told him. “Zelda says it’s the only thing that will help Gladie, and so we have to believe her.”
“That’s right,” Grandma added. “Listen to Sister Cyril. She’s an expert on belief.”
And that was that, no matter how much Spencer was opposed to the plan. Now, instead of just having his wife messing with police business, he was going to have a dozen people doing it. He tried to argue the point, but I was fading fast in my blindness, and Grandma was persuasive and committed to her plan. In the end, it was decided. They were going to work to solve the mystery. They were The A-Team or The Dirty Dozen, depending on who you talked to.
As for me, I couldn’t help at all. I had no intuition left in me. I had no idea who killed Annie or why, and moreover, I couldn’t bring myself to want to solve her murder mystery myself.
I was broken.
Chapter 3
Remington Cumberbatch
I backed my car out of Gladie’s driveway. My boss was staying back at their place, so I was going to run the crime scene. I wasn’t trippin’. I was cool about it. I understood a man who wanted to be with his woman, especially if it was Gladie.
It was just like in Star Trek: The Next Generation, when Worf risked it all to love Troi. I dug that. And Gladie was better than Troi. They both had the third eye thing happening, but Gladie knew how to solve mysteries with hers, and besides, Gladie was sweet and sexy and had the biggest heart I had ever seen in a person.
I didn’t talk about it much, but Gladie and I had had a short fling once upon a time, but it was just for fun. I knew her heart was with the boss, even if she didn’t want to admit it at the time.
My name’s Remington Cumberbatch. I’m the senior detective in Cannes. I was here for a couple of years before I moved to Seaside in California three years ago, but I moved back here a few months later because Seaside was just too…weird. A lot of stuff went down there that I tried to forget about. I’ve managed to forget most of it, because I’m as cool as the other side of the pillow, but I’m still trying to forget the rest of it.
I loved living in Cannes, though, even though it’s pretty weird here, too. It’s a sleepy town with a tight community and a slow, steady stream of tourists. I live in a one-bedroom apartment in the Historic District, just me and my Star Trek memorabilia and my MMA gear. I’m a mixed martial artist on the side. I retired for a while, but lately, I’ve been getting back into it. I guess I just wanted to make some extra cash because I was going to need a bigger apartment. At least I hoped I would.
I parked my car on the street down on Cannes Boulevard, the same street that Gladie lived on. A lot of the houses in the Historic District were built back in the 1800s during the gold rush here, when folks had a lot of cash burning holes through their pockets. Unfortunately for them, the gold ran out pretty quickly, and most of them continued west. But the houses stayed.
