I'm stuck with people I'm not sure I trust, a dead acquaintance, and a delaying police force. Mrs. Greensby had informed us not long ago that the police will be delayed. It wasn't much of a surprise: the road network up here is bad. The road, which goes on for miles, is winding, hilly and narrowed by bush.
We did not know what to do as we waited for the police. Nora's body was still in the Anne Rufus room, and the police had informed us through Mrs. Greensby not to enter the room. We've all watched enough CSI movies to know crime scenes are never to be tampered with.
Mrs. Greensby said there had been six murders in the last four years. All times, the women had been home wreckers having affairs with other women's husbands. I asked if these women had vacationed at the Rufus House with others. She'd said yes, stating that some had come with friends and their families.
I asked if they all had died in Anne's room. Again, she responded in the affirmative.
A pattern began emerge. Every woman who had died in the Anne Rufus room had come in the company of others, had been sucked into a dare, then killed by a so called legend. It meant that the people they had vacationed with knew something about their deaths.
The inference made me uncomfortable, so I excused myself from the living room. My legs carried me outside, where I could do nothing but admire The Rufus House. Mrs. Greensby had told us it spanned ten solid acres of land, with four of it converted into a forest of sorts. She'd also told us her son had a small cabin in there somewhere.
“He retreats there when he's tired of his old woman.” She'd said with the fondness of a mother.
My walk was long and unfulfilling. The winding roots and low branching trees made me easily trip. For a long time, it was the chirping of birds and the sound of insects that tickled my eardrums, then I heard it. A sound like that of gurgling water. I moved in its direction and found a lake.
For a moment, I forgot my woes. The clear sky lent it an azure blue color, and it shone like a million little stars when the sun's rays hit it. Everything here was green— the leaves, the grass and even the small, moss-covered rocks. I removed my flats and sat, the frogs and the birds my company. Then I heard voices.
“This wasn't the agreed amount.”
“Yes, lady. My price just went up.”
The voices were too far to discern whose they were, so I moved from my spot and followed the sounds.
“I brought the amount we agreed on. I do not have any more.”
“Don't lie. I heard you talking with your guy. You told him you had money on you.”
“I did no such thing.”
“So he is your guy. I wonder how the others will feel if they know.”
I moved slowly, careful not to draw attention to myself. I could see a man and a woman, but they were turned away from me.
“Please do not tell my sister or her husband the truth. I'll get your money.”
“You better do.”
Just then, my feet burrowed into a heap of dry leaves. Quickly, I ducked behind an island of small trees. I wished I had worn something darker.
“Did you hear that? Were you followed?”
“No I wasn't. The others are in the house with your mother.”
I watched them— a woman I knew quite well, and a man I knew as an acquaintance— stood facing each other, their eyes combing the forest for any sign of an intruder. I stood plastered to a tree, my heart in my throat.
It was silent for a while. Then he said, “Go home, lady. I can't afford complications.”
I stood immovable as Joanne's footsteps receded, shocked by what I heard. Clearly, Mrs. Greensby's son was blackmailing Joanne about a 'truth' she was bent on hiding. At first, I had thought that Kate had done something to Nora. If what I had just witnessed was any indication, then it was rather Joanne who had something to do with Nora's death.
The thought filled me with equal parts dread and equal parts horror.
When I made it back to the house, I was visibly shaken by the turn of events. The police had arrived by then, introduced themselves and apologized for their delay.
To my surprise, they introduced Mrs. Greensby's son as Officer Pope Greensby.
My first reaction was shock— that he was a policeman and that his name was Pope. I mean, I considered Pope a little far-fetched a name for a blackmailer like him. Then I learnt that he was their forensic guy, so he got to investigate the crime scene.
I wanted to tell the others what I had witnessed in the woods. I wanted to keep him away from tampering with evidence, but my lips were glued somehow. I wondered if Joanne had paid him to destroy any evidence that may link her to the crime. It made me sick to see him move so self assuredly, telling us they'll get to the bottom of the issue. He nodded at his mother, then left with his evidence kit in hand.
His eyes caught Joanne's for a second, and I could swear I saw a look pass between them. I couldn't say for sure the shock of Nora's death wasn't messing with my head; that it wasn't making me read too much into things. I didn't have time to ponder though, because Officers Kent and Jones put us into groups to hear our statements.
Kent took the Brents and Mrs. Greensby, then Jones took Joanne and I. She went in first, and I sat outside with Edwin and our housekeeper as Kate's statement was being taken.
Very soon, Officer Jones called for me. Overhead lights reflected on his bald spot, making it shine. His receding hairline made his forehead prominent. His eyes were deep set. I sat down, and he began the routine questions. My name, age, place of work and residence, then he asked me to run him through last night's events. I told him what I knew, and he took notes, nodding here and there. Then we got to the interesting part.
“What was your relationship with the victim like?”
It is ironic how Nora had quickly gone from alive and independent to victim.
“We weren't close, but our relationship was cordial.”
He nodded, asked a few more then sent me on my way saying he'd call if he needed me. I released a sigh of relief and went in search of Mrs. Greensby for some much needed water. I rather found Kate and Joanne in a heated discussion.
“I shouldn't have listened to you. All this wouldn't have happened.”
“You're right Kate, but stop blaming yourself. It is not your fault.”
“Of course it is. If I hadn't listened to y—"
“She was cheating with your husband. She deserved to die, so get over it. Maybe next time she'll learn not to stick her nose in people's affairs.”
Their exchange gave me pause. Kate kept saying she shouldn't have listened to Joanne, and Joanne also kept telling Kate Nora got her due.
What had Joanne made Kate do? Why was Joanne so angry with Nora?
The minute they spotted my presence, their conversation ceased. I asked how they were holding up, and they said fine. Kate had a shaken up look about her, but Joanne's eyes held terror. I remembered the conversation in the woods, remembered the desperation in her plea.
I wondered what the 'truth' was and its relevance to our predicament, and if her terror had something to do with Officer Greensby's presence and his role.
Even with so many doubts, one thing was clear. The sisters were keeping a secret, and I am willing to bet it had something to do with Nora. The question is, what secret?
All images are from pixabay, unless otherwise indicated.
great fiction work you did here! i love the thrill and mystery of the story... ohhh the plot thickens, cant wait for part 3! :)
Great, great work! I'm awed by your descriptive abilities. The thrill and mystery, on point. Never a dull moment. Can't wait for part 3!
Keep it up 👌
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Honestly!!!! The suspense in this storey is intensifying. @komaat
Its such a nice story..l love the story line @komaat
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