Blessed Is the Busybody (15 page)

“No, I didn’t want her looking for her birth mother.”

There it was. The secret I hadn’t been privy to. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m not against adopted children looking for their birth parents,” Maude continued. “I want you to understand that. I see why it’s necessary, and sometimes it even works out. But Jenny wasn’t trying to get her medical history or find out why she was given up for adoption. She didn’t want a relationship. She wanted money.”

“Money?”

“Jenny thought finding her birth mother would be the quickest way to get the children back. I wanted her to do it the right way, the old-fashioned way. I wanted her to get a real job, clean up her life, and make a fresh start for all of them. Maybe it would have taken a year or even more to get a nice apartment and prove she could keep a job, but she had access to the children. It wasn’t like she was desperate to see them.”

I could see Maude was beating herself up about this. “For what it’s worth, everything you’ve said makes sense to me.”

“Jenny never learned how to wait for anything. If she thought she needed something, she took it. She thought she deserved it after the life she’d led. Shoplifting. Petty theft. That’s why she ended up in jail this last time. She forged a couple of checks. With absolutely no remorse.”

My mind was going a mile a minute. Jennifer Marina had been in Emerald Springs to find her birth mother. She had talked to my husband. My husband steadfastly refused to say why. It was all coming together now.

I probed. “So, she was here to look for her mother? Why? Was she born here?”

“It’s a sad story, really. Jenny was given up almost at birth. A private attorney did the groundwork. She was placed with a wealthy family in Pittsburgh who said they were too busy to go through the regular channels. Unfortunately they were unfit and abusive and never even completed the adoption. By the time she was four and the state rescued her, Jenny was damaged goods. They placed her for adoption twice more and neither placement went through. So from that point on she stayed in foster care, and for the most part the foster placements were disastrous, too. She was finally assigned to a residential treatment facility. Then, when they thought she had improved enough, she came to me. She was a little better, but far from being over the trauma. And then she was simply out on her own with too few coping skills and no support from the state.”

The story was too familiar, but horrifying nonetheless. “So she came here to search for the woman who abandoned her,” I said.

“Not quite.”

I took that pause to pour more coffee. Upstairs I heard the
Jeopardy
theme and no pounding of tennis shoes on the stairs, so I knew we were good for a while longer.

Maude took her mug and cupped her hands around it. “Jenny wasn’t starting the search here. She was
finishing
it. She’d been looking for a long time. She felt her mother owed her. She was furious at the woman. Every therapist she visited tried to help her see reason, but she just couldn’t. She blamed her mother for her life. She wanted to make her pay.”

“So she was here in Emerald Springs to force her mother to give her money.”

“She tracked the woman down. See, Jenny found out she was born in Las Vegas.”

“How?” Immediately I wished I hadn’t asked. It really wasn’t important. But inquiring minds . . .

“She slept with somebody who works for the lawyer who did the placement. She threw that up at me the last time we spoke.”

“I guess she traded whatever she thought she could.”

“The name on the birth certificate was—” Maude stopped and sipped her coffee. “I don’t think I should say. I’m going on and on here, and you’re really just a stranger.”

I tried to explain. “I wish I
felt
like a stranger. But her body was dumped on my front porch. I have her ashes in an urn in my coat closet. My husband counseled Jennifer, and I’m beginning to understand now why he can’t tell me what they talked about.”

Maude seemed to consider. She stood. “I can trust you not to reveal this in a hurtful way?”

“I’d like to see this murder solved. I’d like to get my husband out of the loop. I’d like to know we’re safe. That’s all.”

“Jenny’s mother left Las Vegas not long after she gave Jenny up for adoption. She moved here and married a realtor. I don’t know her husband’s name, Jenny didn’t say. But she did say the woman was, in her words, ‘stinking rich.’ ”

“And that’s why she thought she could ask for money.” It all made a sad, perverted sort of sense.

Maude stood. “I’ve got a long drive back.”

I knew Maude would give me the name, or she wouldn’t. It was not my place to push.

“I’ll get the ashes. Thank you for taking them.” I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m a mother. I know Jennifer understood how lucky her children were to be with you, Maude. In her own way, she must have loved you, or she wouldn’t have asked you to take them.”

Maude blinked back tears. She followed me to the closet, and I took down the urn, a simple metal vase that was as perfunctory and cheap as Jennifer’s funeral service. I handed it to her. We started toward the door as Maude clutched the cremains to her chest. She turned on my front porch, in much the same place I had found the body.

“I don’t know if Jennifer ever contacted her birth mother. She was only here in Emerald Springs a short time before she died. I don’t know if you should talk to the woman or not. If she doesn’t know Jennifer was her daughter . . .” Her voice trailed off.

I nodded and waited.

“Please, just use your best judgment. Jennifer’s mother’s name was Wanda Ray Gelsey.” Maude turned and walked away.

11

I’m not an expert on these things, but I know there are two kinds of monograms. One uses the first letter of the surname as the middle letter. For instance,
W.G.R.
might read
Wanda Gelsey Ray
—but would really represent
Wanda Ray Gelsey.
The other is more straightforward, using the initials in order.
W.R.G.,
or
Wanda Ray Gelsey.

After more than an hour of digging into my memory I was almost sure the brooch that Gelsey had showed me so many months before had read
W.G.R.
At the time I assumed the monogram was the straightforward type and that since her maiden name was Railford, like many people, Gelsey had simply chosen to go by her middle name. That bit of trivia had slipped my mind when I talked to my mother-in-law. Perhaps with her blue-blood past Gelsey had been saddled at birth with an unforgivable first name like Winifred. Winifred Gelsey Railford.

Now I suspected “Winifred” had never been the problem and that indeed the heirloom brooch had used the more common monogram for females.

I was still pondering this extraordinary turn of events when Ed arrived home. For once the girls, tired from their week of school, had gone to bed without a fuss and I’d made popcorn and cocoa for myself. When I heard the car door slam I heated Ed’s cocoa in our ancient microwave.

At first glance I knew he was exhausted. The wedding had been held at a farm deep in Amish country, not such a long drive, but the couple had crammed everything into one day, a morning rehearsal, a long celebratory lunch, an outdoor ceremony followed by an old-fashioned barn dance for all their friends. I was sure the dance was still going on.

I greeted him with a kiss, then motioned to the table. “Sit down and relax. How’d it go?”

“I wish you could have come with me.”

“That good, huh?”

“To share the pain. The mother of the bride despises the groom and refused to speak to his family. She tried to relay messages through me, and when I wouldn’t play go-between she threatened to leave for good.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“The whole day was more of the same. The good news is the bride and groom were oblivious. They had a wonderful time.”

“That’s good, at least.” Nan flicked through my mind. “Tell me they’re moving away.”

“Japan, if you can believe it.”

“Good for them.”

“How did things go here?”

I set his cocoa in front of him and pushed the bowl of popcorn closer. “Well, I figured out that you haven’t been protecting Jennifer Marina these past three weeks.”

He lifted the cocoa to his lips. “Oh?”

“You’ve been protecting Gelsey Falowell. She’s Jennifer’s mother, isn’t she?”

He wasn’t ready to give up the information yet. He lifted a brow in question.
Tell me what you know Aggie, then I’ll tell you if you’re right.

“It all makes sense now,” I said. “Jennifer Marina came to you and told you she wanted to contact her mother. You wanted her to tell Gelsey who she was in the kindest possible way. The morning we found the body Teddy told me Jennifer had yelled something at you in the parking lot about not caring who got hurt. I think you were trying to protect Gelsey.”

“How did you come to this conclusion?”

I told him about Maude’s visit, about the ashes, about Jennifer’s background and her children. I finished by exhorting him to suggest a different funeral home if anyone asked for a referral.

He was half finished with the cocoa when he put his cup down. He reached for a handful of popcorn. “You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

I decided he and Roussos should be friends. “Now that I know, will you talk to me?”

“It’s something of a relief.”

I had expected him to be angry. I slumped. “Have you been debating what to do about Gelsey all this time?”

“More or less.”

“Can you tell me if she knows?”

He shook his head. “Jennifer came into my office on the pretense of needing counseling. She told me right away that Gelsey had given her up for adoption. She said she wanted to get to know her mother, but she didn’t know if that was a good idea. She seemed sincere enough, although I was skeptical. It took two sessions before I realized she didn’t want counseling, she wanted information. She wanted to know her mother’s status in the community, how much she was worth, how much integrity she had.”

“Integrity?”

“Simply put? Would Gelsey pay Jennifer to keep quiet about who she was. She said she needed money, and she had a couple of choices. One was to go to Gelsey directly and ask for help. She could have played on her mother’s sympathies, even her guilt, and asked Gelsey to help her regain custody of her children. The other was blackmail. Jennifer figured the second was a sure thing and worth a lot more.”

“And she went to you because she knew the counseling relationship kept you from revealing her intentions or identity. She could trust you to keep silent while she blackmailed her mother.”

“You got it. And even if I was willing to betray her, who would I go to? If Gelsey didn’t want to reveal Jennifer’s identity, then what would she do if I revealed it? Even to the police.”

I grabbed a handful of popcorn, too. “Yikes.”

“I tried to talk her out of it. Once in my office, once in the parking lot, once at the bar. She was determined.” He pushed the bowl back toward me. “More than that, she was enraged. She wanted to suck her mother dry, wring her out, and throw her away.”

“She had a very difficult childhood.” I knew it was no excuse, but it was definitely part of the explanation.

“I tried to get her to talk about it. She told me her first memory was struggling to escape from a toolshed in the backyard. At night.”

I shuddered. “So what are you going to do now?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure Jennifer never told Gelsey who she was. She was getting her ducks in a row, making sure she had the best angle. I think she was savoring everything about it. Imagining what Gelsey would say, figuring out how much to demand, planning what she was going to do with all that money once she had it in her hands.”

“We both know how grateful Gelsey will be to hear this news from you.”

“That’s an issue, but not much of one. It’s true I’m the last person she’ll want to hear it from, but I am her minister. And right now I’m the only one who can tell her. The question is whether I should or not.”

“You’d keep it a secret?”

“What’s the point of telling her, Ag? As far as Gelsey knows, the daughter she gave up for adoption is alive and well. Maybe Gelsey fantasizes she’s a lawyer or a doctor. Gelsey used a private attorney, Jennifer told me that much. She probably asked for a wealthy family that could take good care of her little girl. Who am I to spoil that and tell her that her daughter was a petty criminal who rode with a motorcycle gang and died violently after she came to Emerald Springs to extort money?”

“That’s quite a mouthful.” I pondered this, as I had pondered the strangeness of the situation all evening.

“That mouthful was Jennifer’s life. Her very sad life.”

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since I made the connection. And here’s my conclusion. Do you want to know?” I’ve found it’s always good to ask.

“I do. I could use a fresh viewpoint. Even if you went behind my back to get one.”

“You weren’t here when the funeral home called.” I held up my hands. “Okay, I knew I was treading on your territory. But the body was on
my
front porch, too. I have a stake in this.”

He nodded without looking convinced.

“Two things come into play here. One is that Gelsey has grandchildren she doesn’t know about. According to Maude, they’re bright, wonderful children despite or even because of the way Jennifer raised them. Gelsey has the right to know this and to do something for them as a memorial to the daughter she gave away.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to?”

I shrugged. “No one’s demanding it.”

“She’s not a young woman. What if knowing the truth ruins the remainder of her life?”

“I can’t imagine Gelsey wallowing in guilt. I’m sure she’ll be sad for a while, but giving up her baby for adoption was probably the best choice she had at the time. How was she to know it would turn out this way? She’ll pick herself up and move on. And if she does something for her grandchildren, then she’ll feel she went the extra mile.”

“You know her well, don’t you?”

“I’ve had to learn. That rings true?”

He nodded.

“The other thing is this. Jennifer was murdered and dumped on our porch. Who showed up just a bit later? Gelsey. Coincidence? You know what Freud says about that?”

Undoubtedly he had loosened his tie the moment he left the wedding. Now he stripped it off and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. “Go on.”

“I think you have to tell her because, for all we know, her life might be in danger, too.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I don’t. It’s just that we know so little. Maybe whoever killed Jennifer will try to extort money from Gelsey, using the same logic Jennifer did. Gelsey has a reputation to uphold, and she doesn’t want anybody to know about her sordid past.”

“Do we
know
her past is sordid?”

“We know she changed her name. We
know
she had a child she gave up to a terrible future. If you’re somebody like Gelsey, that would do it, don’t you think?”

“So you’re saying the murderer might be someone Jennifer shared her ambitions with? Besides me, that is?”

“Definitely besides you.”

“You know I’ve already gone over and over all this in my mind, don’t you?”

“I was pretty sure you had.” I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “One more point. Putting the body in Gelsey’s path could have been a warning of sorts.”

“Only if she knew Jennifer was her daughter.”

“No, I’m apt to agree with you on that. I’ve tried and tried to remember her reactions that day. And I just can’t imagine that she knew that morning. She acted the way you’d expect her to act if Jennifer was a stranger. But who can guess what she knows by now? If someone killed Jennifer so he could blackmail Gelsey himself, then she may know now, or may be about to find out.”

“It’s good to be able to talk about this.” He lifted my fingers to his lips.

“It’s nice to see you need help once in a while.”

“This doesn’t mean you should keep on snooping.”

“I am not snooping. Things keep happening that draw me in.”

“I suppose that’s why you went to Don’t Go There with Lucy? You just happened to be going to, what, catch the show?”

“How do you know about that?” I paused. “Roussos! Right?”

“I think he mentioned it while he interrogated me.” He smiled. “Have fun?”

“We should go together. I can introduce you to the gang. Keely, Sax, Bud . . .” I put my fingers to my lips. “Oh, I forgot you’re a regular, aren’t you?”

“If they’re closing down any business in town, that one would get my vote.” He sobered. “I’m still not sure what to do or how to go about it.”

“Just call Gelsey and tell her you need to see her privately. Ask if you can come over. It’s what, nine fifteen? It’s not too late. Get it off your chest.”

“She’ll come after me with both guns now. Shooting the messenger and all that.”

I sat back. “Maybe it doesn’t matter.”

“Why?”

“Because you got a call tonight. Third Church in Boston is looking for a minister. Four of the people on their search committee want you to pre-candidate, even though you’re not officially looking. They’ve heard you in other places and know your record. It’s early in the year, I know, but she said this could be something of a preemptive strike. If they like you they may not even look at anyone else.”

“Third Church?” Ed’s eyes lit up. And well they should have. Third Church is one of the plums of our denomination. It’s not a large church, but a historic and influential one. Asked to name his dream church, the Ed I married would have named it. But the Ed he had become?

“When? Did she say?” he asked.

“She asked me what weekends you had off. She’ll be calling again to see if you want to be considered, so she can arrange to have you preach nearby.” That was the way the process worked. One by one ministers the search committee wanted to consider would meet with them. Then the committee would hear them preach somewhere in the vicinity of Boston. Finally they would choose their candidate to present to the congregation. All very hush-hush.

“How’s that strike you?” he asked. “You’d be back in the city. All those opportunities you’ve missed since we moved here. I’m pretty sure there’s a house to go with the job, or at least a large apartment.”

Of course the church came with Nan attached, although neither of us voiced this. Nan would be a factor in our everyday life. She might not be interested in visiting the wilds of Ohio, but she would be Johnny-on-the-spot if we lived in Boston.

Nan was just one problem though. There were others. Third Church was formal and a bit stuffy. I would need to pour tea and look gracious, and Ed would be swamped with work. His dream of scholarly research would remain a dream.

Oddly, too, I had to face something that had eluded me until now. I was afraid I might be learning to like this little burg. Midwesterners are warmhearted and standoffish, not such a bad combination when you think about it. They don’t pry, but they stand beside you if you’ve earned their respect and trust. I had made friends here. Despite myself, I was learning to enjoy our Dutch barn of a house. With adolescence knocking at our door, I liked the idea of enduring the onslaught in a place where everyone knew us and would warn us if things were going awry.

“I don’t know,” I said. That covered a lot.

“One thing at a time.” Ed stood, placing his hands against the small of his back and arching. “Right now I have to decide what to do about Gelsey.”

“I guess you could wait until tomorrow. You look pretty beat.”

“I have some notes in my office about my sessions with Jennifer. I’m going to go over there for a while and see what I come up with. If I don’t come back right away, don’t worry.”