Repossessed Page 4

  I thought it over. “You know, that is a bit strange. If you were going to murder someone with a plant-based poison that you concocted yourself, wouldn’t you make it look like an accident? I mean, surely that’s possible.”

  Tara laughed. “I wouldn’t say that in front of the detectives if I were you, Laurel. Anyway, when I find out what the poison is, I’ll let you know. I’ll see if I can find out before the sleepover tonight.”

  “Sleepover?”

  Tara frowned at me. “Laurel, have you forgotten? I’m staying at your place tonight for a girls’ night, as Duncan’s on duty.”

  “Oh, I had forgotten, to be honest, with everything that’s been going on.”

  “Is it still okay if I come?”

  I hurried to reassure her. “Of course it is. That will be great, actually. I could do with some relaxation.”

  Tara tapped the table. “I just thought of something. Won’t you be conducting Tom Trent’s funeral?”

  “Most likely,” I said, “but nobody’s contacted me yet, not surprisingly.”

  “Where will you put your mother?”

  I bit the edge of one fingernail. “I was thinking I could buy a really big freezer and put her in there. I wonder if they make human length freezers?”

  “I don’t think they make domestic ones, maybe only commercial ones.”

  “That would be thousands of dollars,” I lamented. “It seems a bit extreme to buy a commercial freezer to put Mum in just so Janet won’t see her.”

  “Can you put a lock on one of those slidey things?”

  “Slidey things?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “You know, one of those drawers that the bodies lie on and you slide into the freezer cabinet.”

  I nodded. “Oh, I see. The mortuary cabinets. No, you can’t put a lock on them.”

  “Then where will you put your mother to hide her from Janet?”

  I slumped forward on the table. “I don’t know!”

  Tara grabbed my elbow. “Oh no, Laurel! You won’t believe who I just saw.”

  Chapter 6

  I spun around. “Who?”

  “Dylan Jackson! And he was with two women, one on each arm.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Oh no!” I grabbed my handbag and hurried out of the door, but Dylan and the women were nowhere to be seen. Surely, he couldn’t be too far away.

  I hurried down the street, looking up and down the length of it and then retraced my steps, peering in every shop window. Finally, I was in luck. Dylan was sitting in my mother’s favourite café, a rather depressing and small place with only one big table inside and three tables outside. It doubled as a wool shop, and the smell of musty garments hit me in the face as soon as I walked inside.

  As I walked in, a woman in rather revealing clothes walked past me. I hurried inside to see Dylan sitting at the table with five scantily dressed women. “Dylan, are you feeling all right?” I asked him.

  “Laurel, please sit down. I was just telling these ladies that they were all dressed inappropriately. Please cover yourselves, ladies.”

  They all laughed uproariously. The closest one slapped him on the back. “Oh, come on, Dylan. You didn’t worry about what I was wearing the other night.”

  Dylan appeared genuinely confused. “I don’t recall seeing you the other night. Or maybe it was a brief encounter. Did I see much of you then?”

  The woman continued to laugh. “You saw a lot of me then.”

  Dylan pouted. “I came here hoping to have a nice quiet cup of tea and have some nice quiet time to read my Bible.” He pulled out one of the King James Version Bibles from my mother’s house and slammed it on the table.

  The women looked confused. “Dylan, are you coming out tonight?” one of them asked.

  “Out where?” Dylan said. “Is there a prayer meeting at the church that I have forgotten about?”

  I could see the women were wondering whether he was joking. Finally, the one with the most make-up said, “Oh, I see. You’re worried that our husbands would come after you.”

  “Why would your husbands come after me?” Dylan said, clearly confused. He looked up from his phone. “I’ve consulted the online church calendar and there is a prayer meeting tonight. I do hope you can all come.”

  The women looked at him and then looked at me. One of them winked at Dylan. “Oh sure, a prayer meeting. Sure, we’ll come. Where is it at?”

  “Why the church, of course.” Dylan scratched his head. “Did you think it would be at a hotel? No, I’m staying at the Bed and Breakfast I told you about, but the lady of the home isn’t there. What a shame because I’m sure she is the most wonderful person. She has the most impeccable taste in everything, furnishings, music, you name it. Why, I am sure there is no lovelier person in the world than that lady.”

  The one sitting next to him grabbed his elbow. “We’ll come over to your house and have a party tonight,” she said. “We’ll bring the drinks.”

  “That would be lovely, but there will be no need to bring anything to drink. There’s plenty of English Breakfast tea at the Bed and Breakfast.”

  They all burst into laughter. “What time?” one of them asked.

  I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, that is my mother’s Bed and Breakfast, and wild parties are not allowed.”

  Dylan shot me a stern look. “Nobody can come to the Bed and Breakfast tonight because I’m going to the prayer meeting. Isn’t that right, girls?”

  They all burst into laughter.

  I was at a loss. I thought I might as well leave, but just as I made to stand up, my phone rang. I looked down at it and was surprised to see the Caller ID announcing Ian. What could he possibly want?

  “Hello?” I said tentatively. I hoped he hadn’t discovered that my mother hadn’t left town after all.

  “Laurel,” he said breathlessly. He didn’t say anything else, and he sounded as though he was about to cry.

  My hand went to my throat. Surely, he hadn’t discovered mum’s body in the funeral home? I was certain I had locked the door. “What is it, Ian?”

  “I went to your mother’s house.”

  I gasped. “You’re not in the funeral home?”

  There was silence, and I imagined him shaking his head. After an interval, he said, “No. I went to your mother’s home to walk around it seven times.”

  “Seven times?” I echoed. “Why on earth would you do that?”

  “Because they walked around the walls of Jericho seven times, of course,” Ian said in his most patronising tone. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  I nodded goodbye to Dylan and walked out of the café. I stood on the street with one hand over one ear to block out the traffic noise, and I pressed the phone against my other ear. “Maybe you should explain it to me,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Ian sighed. “Honestly, Laurel. With a good mother like yours, I thought you would have known more about the Bible. Joshua walked around Jericho seven times blowing the trumpet and the walls fell down.”

  “Thanks for making it so clear,” I said, injecting as much sarcasm into my tone as I could. “And did you have a trumpet?”

  “No, I didn’t.” This time, he sounded dejected. He pushed on. “Maybe that was an oversight on my part. I did yell though, just like the Israelites.”

  “And did you want the walls of my mother’s house to fall down?”

  “Of course not.”

  I felt as though I was going completely mad. I took a deep breath and then said, “And so Ian, why exactly were you marching around my mother’s house seven times? That is to say, what was your purpose? If you didn’t want the walls to fall down, then what was your objective in doing this?”

  “I was praying against the demon of television,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure I had heard him right. “The demon of television?”

  “Yes. Your mother is in rehab for watching too many episodes of The Bold and the Beautiful, so I thought I would support her with prayer.” He sai
d it as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

  Finally, it made sense to me, although maybe sense wasn’t actually the right word. “So because my mother is in rehab, you thought you would march around her house seven times to support her.”

  “That’s right!” Ian’s voice held a note of triumph.

  I rubbed my forehead. “And you called me to tell me that?”

  “Oh no, it was the most terrible thing,” Ian gushed. “I almost forgot, so distracted I was about Jericho and the trumpet. No, the police came here. They were looking for Thelma. They cross-examined me at great length, and they asked me if I was lying. I told them liars don’t inherit the Kingdom of God, but they didn’t seem to care. Can you imagine that?”

  “That’s terrible,” I said.

  Ian readily agreed. “I almost thought they were going to force me to accompany them to the station to make a statement. Laurel, they really think your mother could be a murderer!” He burst into tears.

  Chapter 7

  “Are you sure you want to put yourself through this?”

  Basil was in my apartment. Thankfully, when I had moved into the apartment, I had put a spiritual barrier around it, so Ernie, or any other ghost for that matter, would not be able to gain entry. I liked my privacy. A pity it didn’t work on my mother.

  “I don’t really want to,” I lamented, “but what choice do I have?”

  Basil nodded slowly. “It does seem the police are closing in. If your mother wasn’t um, err…” His voice trailed away.

  “Dead?” I prompted him.

  Basil looked down at his coffee cup and then twirled it around. “Yes. If she wasn’t, um, dead and therefore missing, the police would be able to question her, and then maybe they wouldn’t be so suspicious. Her being missing doesn’t look good for her at all. They think she committed the crime and then left town. That’s why they questioned Ian so thoroughly.”

  “And that’s precisely why have to go to this prayer meeting tonight at the Birds of Pray Church,” I said. “Some of the suspects will be there, and I’ll be able to keep an eye on Dylan.”

  “Your mother hasn’t actually spoken through him yet though, you said.”

  I nodded. “And I hope it stays that way. Still, he’s turned very pious and sanctimonious just like her, and he seems to have lost all of his old characteristics.”

  “And that might be a good thing, depending on how you look at it,” Basil said. “I’m sure there’s no need to worry. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? If your mother speaks through him, no one will believe it’s really her.”

  “But the police will take him and subject him to a psychiatric evaluation. If they end up speaking to my mother through Dylan, they’ll think he’s stark raving mad and they’ll lock him away. Ernie told us that we had to keep Dylan happy and content. That won’t happen if he’s locked up in an institution.”

  Basil drained the rest of his coffee in one go. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ll be all right, and I know you’ve got a lot of work at the moment. They always have food after their prayer meetings, so it will give me a good opportunity to chat with the other suspects. After all, Tom Trent was murdered in the church community garden, and hopefully the suspects will be at the prayer meeting.”

  And so, an hour later I found myself at the Birds of Pray Church. I walked over to the door and almost bumped into Pastor Green. He seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

  “Laurel!” he said. “I haven’t seen you at a prayer meeting before.”

  “I’m keeping an eye on mum’s new boarder just to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble,” I told him.

  Pastor Green nodded solemnly. “That’s a good idea. He has quite the reputation.”

  “He seems to have changed though,” I said. “You’re not staying for the prayer meeting?”

  Pastor Green looked stricken. “Oh no. I never stay for these types of prayer meetings.”

  I was perplexed. “What do you mean? What types?”

  Pastor Green waved both hands in the air. “Oh you know, the ones your mother organises, like praying against devil’s food cake, praying that Mr Goddard will change his name to a more humble name, praying against swearing, and praying against the Channel 9 news.”

  Now I was really confused. “Why did they pray against the Channel 9 news?” I asked him.

  A wearied look passed across the poor pastor’s face. “I have no idea. I didn’t like to ask.”

  We exchanged sympathetic looks. Pastor Green pushed on. “Is there any way we can reach your mother? The police have been hounding me. I sure they suspect I’m covering for her. I had to explain to them that I wasn’t a Catholic priest, and if I knew anything, I would be quite at liberty to tell them.”

  I felt bad lying to the pastor, but I could hardly tell him the truth. “She went to rehab because she wants to repent for watching too many episodes of The Bold and the Beautiful,” I told him.

  Once more, he nodded sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid that makes perfect sense to me. I’m sure it makes perfect sense to Detective Prescott also, as he has met your mother, although the other detective doesn’t seem to believe it.”

  “Surely they don’t think my mother actually murdered Tom Trent?” I asked, hoping for some more information.

  “I’m afraid they do, Laurel. If only Thelma could be here to defend herself, but alas, she isn’t. If she does happen to contact you, please ask her to return to Witch Woods immediately.”

  “She won’t contact me,” I said, and that at least was the truth.

  Pastor Green nodded. “Yes, you’re right. She will contact Ian. He’s in there now.” The pastor pointed over his shoulder to the building. “I did ask him to persuade Thelma to come home, but he burst into tears and said she hasn’t contacted him. He’s quite upset because I think they have been in daily contact since as long as I can remember.”

  An elderly lady stuck her head out of the door. “Is there anybody else for the prayer meeting?” she called. “Pastor Green, have you changed your mind?”

  With that, he shook his head and hurried away, giving me a small wave over his shoulder. I shot the lady a weak smile and walked inside the building, handing the woman two packets of Tim Tams I had brought for the supper.

  The long, wooden building was typical of a modern Pentecostal church in a small country town, one big hall with blue plastic chairs. For the church services the chairs were in rows, but this time they all formed one big circle. I counted only about twenty people in attendance, and I hoped some of them were the suspects. Dylan glared at me, but Ian acknowledged me with a half nod. I sat down.

  The woman sitting next to me stood up. “Thank you all for coming tonight,” she said. “Before we start praying for those not as good and well-behaved and moral as we are, I would like to state the meaning of this prayer meeting. We are all here tonight to pray against swearing. It is such an evil thing and has no place, yet people swear all the time.”

  A murmur of agreement went up amongst the crowd. I fought back a nervous giggle.

  The woman was still speaking. “After we have general prayer, we can pray for specific people who we have heard swearing, and then if anyone wants deliverance from the demon of swearing, we can pray over them. Is there anyone here who needs deliverance from the demon of swearing?”

  They all looked at me. I averted my eyes. When I looked back up, to my relief they all were looking at the speaker. “Now we will all pray for the next hour.”

  An hour? I wasn’t looking forward to praying for an hour. Still, I could hardly leave now. I cast a look around the room and then shut my eyes.

  The woman immediately launched into prayer. Everyone shut their eyes and began praying aloud, although in soft tones. I opened one eye and then the other and looked around the room. The only people I recognised were Dylan and Ian. They were sitting next to each other.

  My
stomach rumbled loudly, and I hoped they wouldn’t want to pray to cast the demon of stomach rumbling out of me. I pressed my hand on my stomach, but that made it gurgle even more. Ian opened one eye and looked at me, so I shut mine firmly.

  The wooden seat was hard and I shifted in it. Suddenly, I thought about my phone. What if it rang? Everyone would be furious. I grabbed my handbag, reached for my phone and turned it to silent. I looked around the room. Nobody was looking at me, so I checked my messages and then my mail. I thought I had better not do anything else, so I turned off my phone and put my handbag back on the floor. I hoped there would be time after the meeting to talk to other people. My mother always mentioned the chats she had after the prayer meetings.

  Finally, the woman stood up. I assumed it was an hour later, although to me it felt like a week. My legs had gone numb from sitting on the hard chair for so long. My back ached. “Now, does anybody have any specific prayer requests with regard to swearing?”

  She looked around the room. Nobody took her up on the offer, although Ian put up his hand. “If there is no specific need to pray for anyone about swearing, can we pray for Thelma? She’s in rehab for watching too many episodes of The Bold and the Beautiful.”

  “Of course,” the woman said. “Poor Thelma, overcome by the ways of this world. We are in the world but not of the world. Thank goodness she has repented and is seeking help. Although why she didn’t come to us for prayer and deliverance is beyond me.”

  “I believe she was too embarrassed,” Ian said. “In fact, she wanted it kept a secret, but as we know there are no secrets in the eyes of God, are there, Eliza?”

  “That’s right, Ian.”

  I looked at the speaker with interest. This must be Eliza Entwistle, one of the garden committee members and therefore one of the suspects.

  Just then, Dylan walked over to me. In mum’s voice, he said in accusatory tones, “Laurel, why are you here?”

  I said the only thing I could. “&^^$^!”

  Chapter 8