Chocolate Crunch Murder (5 page)

Another fascinating snippet of info.

Mama Morton opened the door all the way, and the scent of moth balls and dust wafted out into the morning air.

Heather sneezed and blocked it with her fist.

“You sick? Because I can’t afford to get sick. Doctor says I’ve got a heart arrhythmia. Never know what could kill me.”

And that would truly be a great loss for the community in Hillside.

“This way. Hurry it up. Don’t have time for lazy folks,” Morton said. She turned and wheeled back into the house. Her gray slippers skew on her heels, and her worn nightgown hung loosely on her pruned-up frame.

Heather skirted around the globe of saliva on the grate, then followed the old woman inside.

The hallway was light but devoid of pictures or decorations. Heather hurried down its length and into the living room, then pulled up short. Piles of magazines and newspapers lined the walls. A coffee table, littered in teacups, sat beside Morton’s only piece of furniture – a stained armchair.

The old lady transferred herself from her wheelchair, into it, then cranked a lever on the side of her chair and raised her feet. 

“Kitchen’s through there,” Miriam said, jabbing her finger toward the archway behind Heather. “Tea’s on the counter. Hurry it up.”

Heather turned and strode into the kitchen, which was as empty as the hallway, and filled Morton’s tea kettle under the faucet. “So, what can you tell me about your grandson?”

“Good for nothing,” Miriam croaked. “Drove my legacy into the ground. My heritage. The Morton’s were meant to be great. Did you know, I refused to take his grandfather’s name? That idiot went to the grave with my family name. I made him change it. Unheard of back when we got married. Hah. He didn’t know what to do with himself.” Miriam broke off to yawn, by the sounds of it.

Heather grabbed a teacup from the sink, washed it out, and then placed it on the counter. The porcelain clinked, lightly.

“Boy didn’t know how to run a business. He didn’t know how to tie his darn shoes properly. Idiots. Everyone's a fool,” Miriam’s said, voice fading slightly. “Have to do it – all – myself.”

Heather frowned. “Are you all right, Mrs. Morton?”

No answer.

“Mrs. Morton?” Heather trudged into the living room.

Mama Morton snored in her armchair, drool dropping from the corner of her mouth to the nightgown shrouding her diminutive form. Tiny but vicious. Boy, she sure knew how to make a person uncomfortable.

Heather hovered in the doorway for a second, then turned to the kitchen and hurried over to the kettle. She clicked it off and sighed. So much for her interrogation of the old biddy.

She walked into the living room again, then grabbed a crumpled up blanket from a basket beside the armchair. She spread it across the woman’s knees, then turned to leave.

Randy Morton’s name caught her eye. She froze, glanced at the pile of letters and newspapers nearby.

Yeah, that was Randy’s name all right. But why did Miriam have anything related to him? Heather’s curiosity drove her forward. She slid the letter off the pile, then glanced back at the sleeping grumpy in her armchair.

Not a sign of consciousness. Good.

Heather turned the envelope over and slipped a letter from within. She unfolded it and smoothed the creases lining the page.

“A letter of foreclosure from the bank.” Apparently, Randy had loaned too much money to pay back.

Heather scratched her temple. She put the letter back on top of the pile of newspapers. Jung had mentioned Randy’s financial troubles but why did Miriam have the letter?

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Heather muttered.

Mama Morton snored and spluttered in her sleep. Heather hurried for the door.

While systems of rehabilitation have been in evidence for years, it’s clear that the systems themselves are currently flawed. Rehabilitation is no longer the focus. Criminals are often ousted from society after their release and presented with fewer opportunities than those present before their incarceration.

Subsequently, offenders turn back to a life of crime and become repeat offenders. The system creates a cycle of abuse for society. Humanity is often lost in the process.

“That’s negative,” Heather said and flipped her book shut. She ran her finger down the spine and tapped it at the base, just below the book’s author name.

What was the point of prison if it didn’t help the criminal, as well as society?

Dave nudged her and wagged his tail, and Heather blinked out of her intellectual reverie.

“Yes, Mr. Donut? What is it this time?”

Dave shifted his paws on the sofa and wagged his tail. He barked once and licked his lips. Shoot, she probably shouldn’t have mentioned donuts.

A knock sounded at her front door, followed by the trill of her doorbell. Dave’s keen hearing had picked up a visitor before they’d made it to the porch.

“Clever boy,” Heather said, and winked at her dog. She patted him on the head, then rose from the sofa and dropped the book in her place. She’d taken to studying whenever Ryan had the evening shifts down at the station.

Heather strode through to the hall. The doorbell buzzed again.

“Just a second,” she said. She hurried to the door, then unlocked and opened up.

Lilly grinned up at her. “Hey, Heather. I just wanted to come by and say hello.” She positively glimmered excitement, and she brushed off clods of dirt from under her sneakers onto Heather’s welcome mat.

“Lilly?” Heather checked her watch. “It’s past 8 pm. You should be home, in bed.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” Lilly said, glancing over her shoulder, then lowering her gaze to her dirty sneakers. “I got permission from the Foster Folks.”

Heather opened her mouth then snapped it shut again. Lilly wouldn’t lie about that, would she? “Still, I think I’ll give them a call, just to check this is okay.”

Dave rocketed around the corner and barked. Lilly dropped to her knees, and he bounded into her arms, barking and licking.

“Davey boy,” Lilly said, and shrieked a giggle. “I missed you.”

Dave had clearly missed Lilly too.

“Lils, is everything okay? I didn’t expect you here until tomorrow’s visit.”

Lilly fended off Dave’s lick attacks with both hands, still giggling. “I couldn’t wait to come. I’ve got the best thing ever to show you. The best, I promise aunt – uh, Heather.”

“Lilly, you haven’t answered any of my questions. If you’re not mean to be here, then I need to call Bill and Colleen to come fetch you.” Heather bit the corner of her lip.

“Ugh, come on. I just want to show you one thing, and then I’ll go back. Okay? Heather? Please?” Lilly’s grin twisted Heather’s arm, but not far enough.

She had to be firm with her. Lilly was an amazing girl, but she hadn’t had any good form of discipline. Her father had been abusive and her current Foster Folks, uh, parents were too easygoing.

“No, Lilly. I want you to go upstairs to my bedroom and wait for me there, okay? I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

Lilly glared at her, tears gathering at the bottoms of her lids.

“Lilly, don’t get upset. I have to do what’s best for you.” Heather’s insides twisted. She was only ten! She couldn’t be allowed to break curfews and –

“I thought you were my friend,” Lilly said, then rose from the front porch and walked past Heather. She stomped all the way up the stairs and disappeared at the top of them.

Heather whipped out her cell and dialed Colleen’s phone number. It rang twice, then clicked on. “Hello? Lilly?”

“Hi Colleen, it’s Heather.”

“Oh my gosh, okay. Have you seen Lilly? She disappeared from her bedroom. I can’t find her anywhere. Bill will be home in a half-hour, he was working overtime at the store and now –”

“Lilly’s here, Colleen. She turned up on my doorstep five minutes ago.”

Silence on the other end of the line. Uh oh, that couldn’t be good.

“I knew it,” Colleen said, then sighed. “Ever since she started hanging out over there, she’s been unruly. I’m sorry to say it, Heather, but you’re a bad influence.”

“Me? But I haven’t done anything.” She hadn’t. She’d tried to do the right thing for Lilly at every turn. Including allowing her time with Dave.

“She’s been talking about investigating nonstop. She stays up later than bedtime reading sleuth novels. And now this,” Colleen said.

Heather’s heart flip-flopped. She didn’t want to lose Lilly in her life. They’d only known each other a couple of weeks, but already the girl had wormed her way into Heather’s heart.

“I’ll talk to her,” Heather said.

Colleen hesitated then let out a sigh. “Good. I’m on my way to pick her up.” Then she hung up.

Heather placed the cell on the entrance hall table, then shut the front door. She dragged her feet up the stairs, gut burning a hole in her side. Poor Lilly had been through a lot, but that wasn’t an excuse.

She had to stick to the rules. Hah, as if Heather was one to talk. But that was different.

Lilly was ten, and she didn’t have to make the same mistakes Heather had.

Heather opened the door to the bedroom and entered, bearing a huge smile as a peace offering.

Lilly didn’t return it. She folded her arms and looked away. “I just wanted to show you what I found. It’s really important for the case.”

“Lilly, I don’t want to hear about the case from you,” Heather said. “That’s not okay. You’re a girl. You’re supposed to be out enjoying yourself, going to school, and listening to Bill and Colleen.”

Lilly turned back to Heather, eyes ablaze. “But I am enjoying myself. I like investigating, is that wrong? Is it wrong?”

How could Heather say no to that? She loved investigating. Putting the puzzle pieces together and chewing a donut to wash the doubts away.

“At your age –”

“Ugh, you’ve been talking to the Foster Folks.”

“Of course, I have. They’re responsible for your wellbeing, and you need to stick to the rules. Is that understood?”

“Whatever,” Lilly snapped. Then blushed. She’d never shown disobedience before. “I mean, fine.”

“Good. Now, Colleen will be over to pick you up in a second, and I want you to apologize to her. She was sick with worry.”

Lilly’s expression softened, and she nodded once, then turned to stare out of the window instead.

“You can play with Dave while you wait,” Heather said, to lighten the mood. She opened her bedroom door, and Dave hopped into the room, not a care in his doggy world, as usual.

Still, Lilly didn’t perk up.

Heather sighed and left them to play time. She couldn’t go back on this. Lilly had to stay out of the case, and that was that.

“I can’t – believe – you – made – me – do – that,” Heather said, drawing in deep gasps in between words.

Her leg muscles had started fires. And those fires ran rampant, burning aches into her nerve-endings, jangling her consciousness by a thread. She stumbled along the sidewalk and wiped the sweat from her brow, using the rough towel she’d grabbed on the way out of her door.

“You didn’t have to do all the reps. I told you to take it easy,” Amy said and slung her towel around her neck. She smiled and tilted her face toward the sun. “I warned you about leg day. It’ll pay off, though.”

“Why – are – you – so – happy?” Heather asked.

“Because, okay, don’t be angry with me, but this wasn’t my first leg day. A couple of weeks ago I noticed I’d started picking up loads of weight from all the donuts, so I, you know, I started working out.”

So that was her secret. Heather didn’t answer her friend. She sucked in deep breaths of morning air and focused on moving her legs. One foot, then the other, step, step, she could totally do this.

“Are you okay? I could call Ryan or Eva to come pick us up,” Amy said, placing her hand on Heather’s shoulder.

Heather shrugged her off. “No, I’m better now. And I wouldn’t touch me if I were you. This is the sweatiest I’ve been in my entire life.” She shuddered out a sigh. “I need a donut.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Let’s walk back to Donut Delights and get you one. Call it an after workout snack,” Amy said. And she didn’t hide her desire for a Choc Crunch very well, either.

Heather grunted and set off down the sidewalk, tugging at the ends of her towel. She stopped mid-stride.

Amy walked on ahead a few steps, then halted and looked back. “What’s wrong? Run out of steam?”

“Look,” Heather said, pointing at the parking lot across the road.

“Is that a bug?” Amy asked, and the corners of her mouth twitched. “That’s the biggest insect I’ve seen. I want to meet whoever owns that truck. They’ve got to be hilarious.”

“Today’s your lucky day,” Heather replied. She eyed the bright green truck, baking beneath the Hillside sun, and wiped more sweat from her forehead.

What would Bob the Bug Debunker think of her sweat-soaked workout gear? Ack, it didn’t matter. She had questions to ask and a mystery to solve.