by Jacqueline Seewald

Note: Kim Reynolds and Mike Gardner are the main characters in a series of five mystery novels, the most recent being BLOOD FAMILY published by Encircle.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Ma said. She pushed her gray hair back from her face.

Mike Gardner responded to her warm smile with one of his own and a handshake as well.

“Same here.”

“Kim has told me a lot about you.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, his cheek dimpling.

Kim nearly groaned. “Mike, I only told her the good things.”

“I understand you’re a homicide detective,” Ma said.

“That’s right, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“That’s Reyner,” Ma corrected.

“Sorry. I should have remembered.” Mike sounded embarrassed. “No one’s ever said I had a memory like an elephant. I only dance like one.”

“Not your fault,” Ma said, turning an accusing look toward Kim.

It was a sore point between Kim and her mother. She and her step-father had never gotten along. As an adult, Kim had changed her name from Karen Reyner to Kim Reynolds. She hadn’t meant to hurt her mother, but she’d felt the need to reinvent herself as her own person.

“Why don’t you just call me Nora?”

“Sounds right, and you can call me Mike.”

They exchanged a smile.

“Why don’t I fix you both a cup of coffee or tea?” Ma said.

“That’s not necessary,” Kim said.

“It’s the least I can do after you came all the way down to Florida so I could meet your fiancé.”

“We didn’t fly to Florida just to see you,” Kim said.

“That’s true,” Mike agreed. “My brother and his wife are with my two daughters and their two sons at Disney in Orlando. We left them there and took the opportunity to drive down here.”

“Mike and I arranged our vacation times to coincide for the trip,” Kim said.

Ma eyed them thoughtfully. “I’m glad the two of you found each other again.”

Kim had told her mother how she and Mike broke up after he discovered his divorce wasn’t legal. But now that he was a widower, things had changed.

“Fate intervened. We ran into each other at the supermarket and reconnected,” Mike said, his gray eyes twinkling. “You could say I checked her out and she bagged me.”

Kim groaned but Ma just laughed. “Mike’s sense of humor takes some getting used to.”

“I don’t mind,” Ma said, “as long as the two of you are happy together.”

“You’ll come back to New Jersey for our wedding I hope.”

Ma’s smile was bright as sunlight. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. You are my only child.” She hugged Kim who reciprocated.

“Mike almost completed our house. We hope to be married in late June.”

 “That’s such good news. Why don’t I fix lunch for you both?”

“Just tea would be fine.”

They followed Ma into the kitchen.

“I have your favorite Greek yogurt,” Ma said, trying to entice her.

“Why is yogurt smarter than pudding?” Mike asked.

Kim didn’t respond, knowing it would be one of Mike’s bad jokes, but Ma rose to the bait and said she didn’t know.

“It’s because yogurt is cultured,” Mike said.

Ma dutifully laughed.

“As you can tell, Mike is not a big fan of yogurt,” Kim said.

“Or culture for that matter.” Mike proffered a self-deprecating smile.

As Ma bustled around the kitchen, Kim observed that her mother was dressed in a black skirt and blouse. “I’m surprised to see you wearing black. I thought you prefer bright colors.”

Ma placed teacups on the kitchen table. “It’s just for today, dear. I went to a funeral this morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Kim said.

“There’s no fun in funeral,” Mike observed. “They ought to change the name. It’s a misnomer.”

“A true observation,” Ma agreed.

“Who died?” Kim asked.

“My next door neighbor.”

“Were you friends?”

Ma let out a deep sigh. “He was a nice man, quiet, hardly ever home. Since he retired, Douglas traveled quite a lot. As a matter of fact, I thought he was on a trip.”

“What made you change your mind?” Mike asked.

“His sister came by about two weeks ago. She said that Douglas had been expecting her. She had a spare key and when she went inside, she found all his plants dead. He was a very tidy man and took good care of his exotic plants. That wasn’t like him. She came by again to talk with me, to ask me what I knew about it. Of course, there wasn’t much I could tell her. When he planned to be away for any length of time, Douglas generally left a key with me and asked that I care for his plants.”

“And that didn’t happen this time?” Mike asked, raising one dark brow.

Ma shook her head. “No, and it did seem strange. His sister, Rachel is her name, said the house looked as if someone had ransacked it. She thought a robber had gone through it and stolen valuables. Anyway, we reported it to the police.”

“Were they able to locate your neighbor?” Mike asked.

“That’s the strange part. They weren’t at first. Douglas lived in our modest gated community, but he did own a very nice boat that he kept at the marina.”

“Let me guess. The police found Douglas dead on his boat.”

Ma worried her lower lip. “Not exactly. They found evidence of some form of violence. There was a bloody knife. Weighted plastic bags containing body parts were found in the Atlantic. They started bobbing up about a week ago. The police said there were numerous stab wounds on the torso. The head had been severed.” Ma shuddered. “DNA identified the body as belonging to my neighbor.”

“So, your neighbor was murdered,” Mike concluded.

“It seems so.”

“You had no idea?”

Ma met Mike’s level gaze. “Well, I did hear strange noises at night coming from the house next door. I thought it was odd.”

“Could have been the plants protesting their lack of water.”

“Not funny, Mike,” Kim said frowning. “Ma, are you safe here?”

“Like I said, this is a gated community. People can’t just wander in off the street, especially thieves.”

Mike was thoughtful. “That means whoever was in your neighbor’s house was likely someone he knew, possibly someone who lives here.”

“Mike, would you check with the local police?” Kim said. “I don’t want us to leave until we know my mother is safe. I’m very uneasy.”

“I’m not worried,” Ma said.

“Well, I am,” Kim countered.

Mike left them, promising to find out as much information as he could.

In the meantime, Ma asked about her job. “How are things going at the university library?”

“Fine,” she said. “I enjoy working there. Helping students and professors with their research is interesting.”

“I’m glad you like being a librarian. Will you continue after you marry Mike?”

“Yes, I don’t see why not.”

“Mike is a lot older than you and he does have children. Are you comfortable with that?”

Kim let out an exasperated sigh. “I get along well with the girls. And I’m nearly thirty, Ma, I’m not that young either.”

Ma touched Kim’s shoulder-length auburn hair. “You’re very attractive. I don’t want you thinking you have to settle. And from my end, thirty is still a youngster.”

Kim squeezed her mother’s hand. “I truly love Mike. He’s a good man and an intelligent one. I even love his corny jokes and puns most of the time.”

“You’re my child and always will be. I just want what’s best for you. Well, I suppose Mike is all right, as long as he makes you happy.”

“He does. We really connect together.”

* * * * *

Kim decided to accompany her mother to the neighbor’s house. She left a note for Mike on the front door so he would know where to find them. They walked out into what passed for early spring in Southern Florida so different from New Jersey which was still cold. It was no surprise that Ma liked it here. The temperature was 75 degrees. Palm trees swayed around them. It was positively balmy. How great not to have to worry about frigid temperatures and digging one’s car out of snow or skidding on icy roads in winter.

This holiday was a thrilling adventure for Kim. She’d grown up poor. Travel wasn’t something her family could afford. She worked hard at her job but money for travel was a luxury she never considered. Yet she had promised her mother a visit, and what better time to introduce Ma to her fiancé?

“I guess you don’t miss New Jersey,” Kim said.

Her mother tilted her head to one side in a thoughtful motion. “Sometimes I miss it. I do miss seeing you.”

“Same here,” Kim said. They might not always agree but Kim knew Ma loved her and she reciprocated.

Ma rang the neighbor’s doorbell. It was answered by a young woman who had long, dyed black hair and sported a prominent nose ring. There were fanciful tattoos on both of her arms. She wore a flowing black dress that gave her a distinctly Goth look.

“Hi,” the young woman said and held out a hand displaying multiple glittering rings. “You were at my father’s funeral,” she commented to Ma.

“That’s right. I live next door.” Ma handed her the covered cake she was holding.

“Come in,” the young woman said. “I’m Audrey by the way.”

Kim introduced herself. Audrey led them into the living room. The furnishings were modern and undistinguished. Sitting on a couch was a balding man with something of a paunch.

“Meet my big brother, Eric,” Audrey said.

“We met at the funeral service, didn’t we?” he said to Kim’s mother, viewing her through dark-framed eyeglasses.

Ma acknowledged that, yes, they had met earlier.

“Why don’t you join us?” Audrey said. “Stay for a while. I guess Dad didn’t have many friends. Then again, we weren’t around much. I don’t suppose anyone else would think to come back to the house after the service.”

“I would have expected Jerry Whitner though,” Eric commented. “Supposedly, he and our father were good friends.”

Ma turned to Kim. “Jerry’s the fellow who runs our pool club for the management.” Ma explained.

“The very same,” Audrey said. “He and Dad used to go fishing together. Dad took him out on his boat all the time. I know because I was a little jealous when he mentioned it.”

“More than I can say for how he treated us,” Eric said, a note of bitterness evident in his voice. “The old man never once invited me to go fishing with him.”

“He wasn’t exactly father of the year,” Audrey confided. “He and our mother fought all the time. He was stingy with child support after their divorce. We hardly ever saw him.”

Eric frowned. “I hope he left us a decent amount of money in his will.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Audrey said.

“He owes us. He had money but he was never generous. My business is failing. When I called and asked him for a loan, he hung up on me.”

“He always said we needed to be self-reliant,” Audrey said.

“Since when have you been so forgiving? Only now that the old man’s dead, right?”

Audrey didn’t answer but from her facial expression it was evident that her brother hit a nerve.

They were joined by an older woman, easily in her late fifties. Kim could see a family resemblance between her and Audrey. She and Ma exchanged greetings. Rachel Peterson, it turned out, was Douglas’s younger sister by several years.

“Coffee’s ready,” she announced in a cheerful voice. Rachel didn’t sound as if she were too upset about her brother’s brutal death.  She invited Kim and her mother to join them for coffee. “Your cake looks delicious,” Rachel said. “I love anything with chocolate.”

“Yummy,” Audrey agreed.

They seated themselves around a good-sized dining room table.

“This place was such a mess when I arrived,” Rachel said. “I still can’t believe someone murdered my brother. He wasn’t the nicest person, but still, murder?” She offered a delicate shudder.

The doorbell rang and Eric loudly called out to enter. A man of around forty strode into the room. He looked fit and tan. Kim noted that he was well-muscled unlike Eric Peterson.

Ma recognized him at once. “Jerry, you must feel badly. You and Douglas were such good friends.”

Jerry Whitner gave an uneasy shrug. “Only casual friends.” He looked down. “Just thought I should come by and pay my respects to the family.”

“But you used to come by here so often,” Ma said. Her gray brows knit together in an expression of puzzlement.

“Doug hired me to do work for him. You know I’m handy. I pick up extra work from lots of the owners, especially the snowbirds who need their places looked after during the summer months when they go back north.”

“Why don’t you join us?” Rachel Peterson asked.

“I don’t want to impose,” he said, stuffing his fists into his jean’s pockets.

“You’re not,” Rachel said. She indicated an empty chair and Jerry seated himself. “We’ve got chocolate cake.”

“Guess I could stay a while,” the handyman said, eyeing the cake.

The conversation that ensued was polite. They talked about the weather, how pleasant it was, neither hot nor cold and how lovely to be in Florida at this time of the year. Rachel as well as her nephew and niece were all from the Chicago area and appreciated the change of climate as much as Kim did.

Kim thought that none of the three relatives seemed to be likely suspects in Douglas Peterson’s murder. Of course, the thought of an inheritance might influence some people. The desire for money was always a possible motive for murder. Greed did strange things to people.  Who could tell? Eric did say he needed money and his father refused to loan it to him. What if he was named in his father’s will? Although Kim doubted that either Rachel or Audrey could or would murder Douglas Peterson themselves, it was not unheard of to hire a hitman to do the job. Rachel described herself as an “unclaimed treasure,” a woman who had never married. Audrey was single as well. It appeared neither of the women was well off financially. However, Eric Peterson’s rancor toward his father was the most troubling. All in all, Kim thought the police would likely want to talk with Douglas Peterson’s relatives.

* * * * *

Mike was late in joining them. The crumbs of the chocolate cake were all that remained. The family members pronounced it the best cake they’d ever eaten.

Kim introduced Mike as her fiancé but deliberately did not mention his line of work. Mike took the hint, expressed his condolences and suggested that they return to Ma’s house.

“What did you find out?” Kim asked when the door to her mother’s home was closed firmly behind them.

“One thing of real interest,” Mike said, furrowing his forehead. “Peterson’s credit card was heavily used both before his death and after. The credit card company checked the receipts and discovered although they were all signed Douglas Peterson, the handwriting from shortly before his death and for the weeks thereafter did not match Peterson’s. Also, there were some very expensive purchases charged on the card after his death.”

“So, someone stole the credit card. Maybe when Mr. Peterson confronted the thief, he was killed for his trouble.” Kim was thoughtful. “Douglas Peterson’s sister, son and daughter weren’t here then as far as we know.”

“That leaves only one possible person,” Ma said. “I did wonder why Jerry denied that he and Douglas were good friends.”

“Of course,” Kim said, “You’re right. He wanted to distance himself so he wouldn’t be considered a suspect. Jerry admitted to working for Mr. Peterson. I believe your neighbor gave his friend his credit card to use for purchases to buy what was needed for repairs.”

“But when he discovered that Jerry used the card for unauthorized purchases, he must have confronted him. They probably had an argument. Jerry must have murdered Peterson, disposed of the body and continued using the credit card until the remains of Peterson were discovered,” Mike conjectured.

“I think we solved a murder,” Kim said.

He turned to Kim’s mother. “You’re as good at solving crimes as your daughter. Wish I could get you on my team.”

“Sorry,” Ma said. “I’m happily retired.”