Wynn in the Willows (5 page)

“They've been picked up.”

“By whom?”

“You. He said you picked them up yesterday and he knows nothing about sending over a body. He says papers were signed by you to authorize cremation, and he sent the body to the crematorium. And you picked up the ashes yesterday.”

“Then how did we acquire this body that professes to be Boone's?” Jackie's voice rose.

“I am not sure. My assistant informed me via cell phone that he would be picking up Boone's body, based on a phone call from the coroner. Everything went smoothly, until just this moment.”

“Did the coroner mention they were missing a body?” Wynn asked, concerned that some other grieving family must be wondering where their beloved might be.

“No, they have no queries from any family, nor do they think anything is amiss. That's why I mentioned I'd have to call them back. Somehow, we have a body that doesn't belong here.”

Jackie began to dig around inside of her purse; She jerked out her cell phone. “Maybe Boone isn't dead after all, and this is some horrid mistaken identity. He's probably having a drink somewhere this very moment.” Jackie sat with the phone pressed against her ear. “No answer. It goes to voicemail.” Jackie dropped the cell and began to cry again. “Oh God please help me. My trust is in You.”

Wynn hugged her, letting her cry.

“I also have the police department's report of Boone's accident.” Mr. Lansing laid it on the desk. “He's deceased, Ms. Bennett. At this point in time, we aren't sure where his body is. This isn't our fault. But, I will get this resolved shortly, if you would be kind enough to give me some time.”

Wynn read the report. It was direct and to the point. After handing it back to the jittery funeral director, Wynn turned to her friend. “Let me take you home, Jackie.”

For several long minutes Jackie didn't move, and then she rose to her feet, and squared her shoulders. She took Wynn by an elbow.

The room was now filled with mourners. Some were crying, a few were quietly talking.

Wynn shushed the organist's hands from playing another depressing note.

Jackie took the microphone and stood on the podium. “Hello everyone, may I have your attention please? I have some very sad news. My husband's body is missing, so that concludes our funeral for this morning. We will reschedule. Your attendance is noted and means so much to me. In the meantime, we invite you all to congregate at our house where you will find superb food, prepared by Chef Frank.”

The abrupt ending resulted in an immediate conversation hum. Several people walked forward with questions, but Jackie successfully waved them away and hurried back to the parlor, closely followed by Wynn.

Marilyn asked for the family ring.

“Isn't this a little premature?” Jackie asked.

“That ring has been in our family since the late 1800's. With Boone dead, I want the ring back,” Marilyn snapped. “It should be returned to his blood family.”

“This isn't the time for that, Marilyn,” Roxie interceded.

“Boone told me he wanted that ring buried with him, and as soon as I find Boone that is exactly what will happen.”

“Are you saying you've lost the ring, Jackie?” Marilyn seemed on the verge of hysterics.

“I know exactly where it is—with a trusted friend.”

“Are you hiding it from me?” Marilyn accused.

“I have the ring.” Roxie held it out.

Marilyn snatched it away and just as quickly shoved it back at her. “Paste! No, this isn't the ring.”

“That is the ring I got out of our safe this morning.” Jackie took the ring from Roxie. “I was just getting ready to put it on Boone's hand...” Her voice trailed off as she slid it on and curled her fingers.

“Who is that man in the coffin, anyway?” Roxie asked Mr. Lansing, averting the catfight that appeared to be brewing between Boone's mother and his wife.

“I will find out and alert the family. Ms. Bennett, I have no idea how this mix-up, er, situation occurred, or who's to blame—although I can assure you that the Willow Island Funeral Home is not at fault here in any way. I assure you that I will make every effort to find Boone's body, or ashes.”

“Mr. Lansing, your reputation is at stake. If this matter is not cleared up immediately no one in this small community will ever trust you again to take care of their dearly departed.” Marilyn huffed.

“God bless you Mr. Lansing. I for one, have full confidence in you.” Jackie turned towards her mother-in-law, her voice an accusation, “Marilyn, what was that you said a bit ago, concerning Boone's body being cremated?”

“Oh? Did I? Boone always said he wanted to be cremated just as his father had been. I just assumed it was done. That's why I became confused over all the talk about the coffin and putting the ring on Boone's finger. Let me make this perfectly clear, I want the real heirloom ring in my possession by the end of today. You may keep the paste ring. I will see you at Boone's home with the other mourners. Come Agatha.” She grabbed the young woman by the arm and steered her towards the door.

 

 

 

 

7

 

Emotionally drained, Wynn drove along the coastal cliffs—windows down, hoping the surf might work its calming effect on her nerves, and restore the logic she had come to count on seeing her through any tragedy.

Maintaining faith like the Bible study women was nice for them, but for her, reality was best. It harbored no false illusions. She'd drive to the Bennetts', express her condolences, and go home.

Aunt Roxie went ahead in Jackie's car, and would probably stay for a little while with the widow. If not, Wynn would bring her home, too.

She huffed out a breath to get her blowing hair out of her line of vision, and noticed the tide was down. The water was way too choppy for sailing, which also explained the absence of smaller boats in the water. Wynn rolled up the windows as she turned inland and headed down the shady two-lane road towards the forest preserve. Deer-crossing signs blazed in yellow around each turn.

The passing sight of a rare Calypso Orchid nearly landed her in a ditch. The road was way too narrow to do a turn around. Up ahead, there was a private driveway. She pulled the nose of the vehicle in just enough to crank the steering wheel around and back out.

And there it was again, the Reed's Landscaping truck.

Wynn was curious, despite Roxie's warning, becoming more intrigued with every sighting. She pulled the car behind common shrubs and hardwood trees. Wanting to get a good look at the infamous Doug Reed, she opened her backpack and fished for her birding glasses. Lowering the driver's window, she raised the binoculars and searched up one end of the yard, down the other end.

The binoculars zoomed in and framed the man; he was covered in dirt, wrestling with brambles. Tightly muscled and wearing heavy gloves, Doug cut back a coagulated collection of brutal looking vines with his razor-sharp garden shears. Shrubs and foliage had grown so thickly over the frame of a decaying cottage that it had nearly kicked it off its foundation. He dispatched the mesh of vines, as dirt and sweat ran down along the outline of his body, plastering his shirt to him.

She sneezed. By the time she blew her nose and was ready to refocus her sights, Doug was gone. Where? Wynn looked up the road and as far into the garden as her gaze could see.

His wheelbarrow was still there and so were his garden tools. The heaps of debris were left chaotically where he had dropped them.

Wynn's binoculars were heavy so she took the strap from her neck just as someone banged on the window on the passenger side. With a jolt, she turned around.

His hair was the color of wheat and his eyes, very willful, were like the sky right before a tornado—sea gray with a shadow of black.

Against her better judgment she rolled down the window. “Hello.”

“Who are you and why are you spying on me?” Doug nodded towards her binoculars. He removed the straw he had been chewing on and slid it into his back pocket.

Wynn reflexively set them in her lap and covered them with her purse, as her throat went dry. Embarrassed, she considered subterfuge, but thought better of it. “Aren't you Owl's niece, Doug?”

His gaze told her he thought her a lunatic.

“...I-I mean nephew, Doug. Right? You're Owl's nephew?” Wynn felt her face warm. “I was on my way to the reserve when I thought I caught a glimpse of an atypical orchid.”

“You must be Roxie's nephew, oops, I mean niece from Madison.” He chuckled, draping his arms over the window frame. “Owl told me about you, too.”

“As I was saying, I thought I caught sight of a rare orchid,” Wynn cleared her throat again. “I was using this driveway to turn around and go back for a closer look.”

“Oh? Were you practicing this closer look on me? And does this orchid have a name?”

“Its common name is Calypso, but its scientific name is…”

“Calypso Bulbosa, also referred to as the fairy slipper or Venus's slipper,” he finished her sentence. “Sure, they're nearly extinct on the island because of deer and rodents.”

“That's too bad.”

“Do you always dress gothic?” Doug looked at her from head to toe.

Wynn looked down – she was in black shoes, black itchy pantyhose, black dress, and a black hat which she immediately snatched off her head and tossed over her shoulder into the backseat. “No. I've just come from a funeral.”

“Oh, that's right. Jackie Bennett's husband died.” Doug pushed away from the car.

“Yes. Well, no funeral after all, his body is missing.”

“His body is missing?” Doug's face twisted into a disbelieving frown. “How odd.”

“Well, nice meeting you.” Wynn shifted into gear. “I am back to scouring the island for vegetation which I'm required to keep a record.” She snatched up her logbook and waved it out the window.

“Do you like sailing?” he asked.

Wynn wondered if he was asking her out on a date. “I can't go. I'm busy tomorrow,” she answered bluntly.

“Who said anything about tomorrow?”

“I'm busy then, too, but nice meeting you!” Rattled, Wynn backed out, nearly colliding with a car coming around the corner. How embarrassing to have Doug catch her red-handed staring through binoculars. She drove down the road searching for the flower. But stray thoughts kept interrupting her concentration.

And then, there it was—the rare orchid, but now a rabbit was nibbling on it.

Wynn blasted the horn, causing the rabbit to leap away into the underbrush. She grabbed her camera and tape measure. Ten steps later she knelt by her prize nestled amongst the sorrel. How easy it was to miss this little orchid growing in the shade of the cedar trees. Only the wild life that searched these out to munch on knew it was there. But it wouldn't be here for much longer.

Although the orchid was known to display red or purple flowers, this one was pale pink with a white lower lip. How she'd love to relocate it, but since it was a protected species, she'd risk a hefty fine for moving it. A photo was all she could take. She scribbled the sighting into her book. Reluctantly, she left the orchid behind for the rabbit to finish off. Hopefully, he'd leave the bulb untouched and it would return to bloom again next summer.

At the Bennetts', Wynn walked between large planters of ivy that dangled like dead men, and straight into another argument between Marilyn and Jackie. Wynn had the impression it really wasn't about the missing ring, but more about the woman who took Marilyn's precious son away. Hating drama, Wynn wheeled away and strolled through the garden to enjoy the sprawling view of Lake Michigan. Finally, she decided to get a bite to eat; hoping by then, Roxie would be ready to leave.

On the patio, Jackie was seated like a queen, surrounded by mourners offering condolences as she wept into her lace hankie. Among the bereaved were the women from the Bible study. They were ready to come to Jackie's aid anytime she signaled. Neither Roxie nor Sheri took their eyes from the new widow for very long. Owl eyed the food, but her gaze darted to Jackie and the mourners, assessing even as she piled a plate high.

Wynn's heart skipped a beat when she spotted a tray of red caviar on beds of butter lettuce.

“How can you meet new people if you insist on isolating yourself? Mingle.” Roxie demanded. Then she handed Wynn a plate.

Wynn promptly filled it with fresh vegetables, canapés, and crackers heaped with caviar. She gobbled it down, and then returned for seconds and thirds, washing it all down with sparkling water, feeling a bit like Owl must have felt upon seeing the food.

Scanning the crowd for Roxie, she spotted Faith offering guests a platter filled with little cups of fruit salsa with a cinnamon chip sticking out. Wynn worked her way towards the woman she wanted to know better. “Hello Faith. I see Jackie is keeping you busy today.”

“You remember me.”

“It was hard to recognize you without a platter of éclairs in your hands, but yes, I believe you're Faith Montgomery.” Wynn reached for a salsa cup.

“Wasn't that a mess this morning at the funeral home?” Faith shook her head as she rearranged the serving table. “Who has ever lost a corpse?”

“At least the mourners turned out.” Wynn noticed Faith was missing a pearl earring. “Wow, this food spectacular. Did you and your brother make all this?”

“Today it's all Frank, but I like to help serve. Come on and I'll introduce you to him. He's in the kitchen grilling chicken with a mango glaze that's to die for. Oo-ops, very bad choice of words to use today.” Faith led her through the traffic of mourners and hired servers, up the limestone patio steps, through the great room, towards the gourmet kitchen.

Photos adorned the hallway walls. No one could go from the patio to the front door without getting a pictorial view of the Bennett's life together. Jackie looked stylishly thin in every shot, whereas Boone appeared well-muscled. The photos made them appear to be the ideal contented couple.