She drove a neighbor’s borrowed Ford pickup
truck over toward the golf course where her mother lived in a ranch style house
three inches from the Fourteenth green.
Once there, she let herself in with a spare key.
Belinda
went directly to her father’s den where the picture hung. She realized she’d have to wash it, but it
looked smooth enough to paint over.
Besides, she could use some gesso to make sure another painting would
adhere to the one beneath.
She
carried the painting out to the truck and laid it in the large bed, then
covered it with a heavy blanket. It fit
almost perfectly. Then she went looking for her mother who could probably be
found in her garden. The garden was
through the kitchen, out the backyard door. She was surprised to see her mother
sitting, looking out the back window.
Her
mother sat at the kitchen table. Not
moving. She had a neat hole in her
temple.
Belinda
screamed, “Noooooo!” She collapsed into
tears after she felt for her mother’s pulse.
Her mother was cold. And dead.
She
remembered Sam “clearing” her house just yesterday, and almost hyperventilated
as she ran out the front door and called 911 again, so frightened she could
barely talk. Something inside her twisted,
broke and turned to lead. She made
herself walk into the kitchen. How could
she live without her mother? She was the
only thing that never changed. “I’ll eat
all my vegetables, I promise.” She
sobbed out the silly promise, broke down again and looked through her tears
around the room for some explanation.
This was just a bad dream. How
could anyone kill her mother?
Belinda’s
bones ached and she thought she must have the flu. That would be perfect--a dead ex and a dead
mother, being shot at and living with Chris which she’d said she’d never do,
having a shot SUV, and now she had the flu.
Her life was upside down in only two days. But why?
Exhausted,
Belinda curled into a ball and fell asleep on the sofa while she and her mom
waited for the authorities.
#
Fortunately,
her mother had made a detailed will when she’d married Phillip. Had she known something was going to happen? She’d made plain her burial wishes and both
she and Phillip had drawn up a pre-nuptial agreement. What belonged to her mother would come to
Belinda. What belonged to Phillip would
go to his children, Gary, Eric, Gail and Kitty.
Not that they had anything besides retirement incomes to worry about. I wonder where my stepfather went? The investigator said Phillip was out playing
golf when he got the bad news about his wife.
She wondered if he even cared.
Belinda
had gone to a few of Phillip’s family parties, but her step-siblings had
treated her mother with so much disdain and jealousy for marrying the divorced
Phillip while their mother was still alive, that it was too uncomfortable for
Belinda to watch.
#
Belinda
stayed with Chris after she got out of the hospital where she’d been checked
for shock. When Magers pointed out the
lapses in her logic, with such a sweet sales pitch, she wanted to jump into his
lap and never get out. The psychiatrist
gave her medication so she could stop crying.
She’d never known constant crying was so exhausting. She just wanted to be left alone to
sleep. But of course the world would not
stop for her.
The
next morning Belinda called Sam. “I don’t know when the insurance company will
fix my car, but I need to go to the studio.
I had to take the truck back to my neighbor. I have a painting due in four days and
obviously can’t use the one I had planned to use.”
“And
I want to know this because?”
Was he being snide?
“I
need to know if all the reports have been turned in. I feel like my life is gone and I can’t get
going foreward. I need my SUV. My paintings won’t fit in a rental.
“Oh,
of course, my mind was somewhere else. The
reports were sent over two days ago, so it shouldn’t take much longer. But if you think your SUV is coming back to
you, you are sadly mistaken. The windows
could be repaired, but the bullet that went through the fender ricocheted off
the front axle, then proceeded through the engine block, and all the oil leaked
out of it. When you drove to the PD, the
engine block froze up. It’ll be totaled.”
Sam. She pictured his deep honest eyes. Not dependent puppy eyes.
Maybe
they wouldn’t have to be so formal now they were on a first-name basis. Sammy fit well on him--the name Grandby had
called him when she first met both of them.
Belinda
sighed. “You are so sweet! I guess I’ll call a car rental company then,
because I’m stuck here at Chris’s house.
He had to take his car to work.”
“Is
this Chris Danner you mean?”
“Yes. I only moved in with him because I had
nowhere else to go.”
“Are
you two an item?”
“Item? Not a chance.”
“Good,
because Mr. Danner works for the Beacon Casino, not a big box store like he
told you.”
“I
think you’ve got the wrong Chris Danner.”
“No. All acquaintances of victims and witnesses in
a murder are checked out.”
“Well,
why would he tell me he worked for a big store as a foreman?”
“Have
you ever been at his place of employment?”
“No. But I wouldn’t care if he worked at a
casino. There’s no need to lie about
it.”
“Maybe
he changed jobs and forgot to tell you?”
Well. Anything was possible. She said, “I wanted to ask you about the blue
car. Have you found it yet?”
“Sorry. No luck on that one. Spokane
Belinda
thanked him again, then went out to the loaner truck and took the painting out
of its bed. It was so cold, she was glad
it hadn’t been wet when she put it in there.
The paint would have frozen and
ruined another attempt. Maybe God just
didn’t want her to enter that art show.
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