A Short Story (Part 3 of 3)
Linda Carroll-Bradd
One More Time
https://stillmomentsezine.blogspot.com/2020/02/a-short-story-one-more-time-part-1.html
Part 2 of 3
https://stillmomentsezine.blogspot.com/2020/03/a-short-story-one-more-time-part-2.html
PART 3
At the sound of footsteps swishing through the grass, Darla turned and watched the attractive office approach. She’d known he’d get back to questioning her, but this conversation would make Aunt Annie’s death too real.
She looked up and pushed a long strand of hair behind an ear.
In her blue eyes, he spotted both pain and determination. “Excuse me, Ms. Miller. I have a few questions.”
“Oh, I think I need to apologize to you, Sheriff.”
“Actually, the name’s Sheriff Daniels, Jake Daniels. Maybe we should sit in the shade.” He gestured toward an unoccupied picnic table separate from both groups.
Her gaze narrowed. “Is this is an official interview, Sheriff?”
The lady was quick. He admired that. Although, someone had labeled her as “almost an attorney.” “No, I’m gathering details to give to the authorities when they arrive.”
Her posture rigid, Darla preceded him to the table and lowered herself to a bench. She leaned on her forearms and clasped her hands together. “What do you need to know?”
He pulled out his notebook and pen before sitting across from her. “Describe your relation to the deceased.”
“Annie was my father’s great aunt.” She blinked fast.
“Were you close—?”
“You know, I wished I’d known her longer.” Darla shook her head. “When I arrived was the first time we met. She graciously took me in so I could research the family genealogy.”
“I meant, were you nearby when she passed?”
“Sorry. No, I was…” She hesitated, her gaze flicked to the side.
“With the Missouri Finsters?”
Her head popped up and she shifted on the bench. “They told you that?”
“I’ve heard a bit about the differences between the clans.”
“I can imagine.”
“Since you were close to Miss Finster, can you tell me about her health? I’m interested in any recent illnesses.”
“Annie was slowed by arthritis, but she was in good health. Dr. Gaines warned her to cut back on salt, but she pshawed his advice.” She sucked in a shaky breath and sniffed. “Said she’d been eating far longer than he’d been a doctor and that ought to count for something.”
Jake looked away to give her a moment to compose herself. “You were fond of her.”
“Yes, we just hit it off.” Her posture relaxed. “She lived on her own terms, and I admire that.”
“As far as you know, this death could have been a heart attack?”
“I assumed that’s exactly what the cause was. Why?” Her eyes widened, and she reached across the table to grab his arm. “Has someone said something to the contrary?”
Again, she’d deciphered his words’ hidden meaning. For an instant, he felt a connection with this perceptive woman and wished they’d met under different circumstances. “I may order tests on some of the food and interview a couple more people.”
Shaking her head, she let out a deep sigh. “Who said what?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Miller, the investigation is on-going. I can’t divulge details at this time.”
Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forward. “But you’re questioning me because of what they said.”
“You have been living under the same roof with the woman.” He glanced at his notepad. “How long have you been in Weston?”
“A little over a month.” She wrung her hands then crossed them over her midsection. “Annie Finster was an eighty-seven year old woman who never bothered anyone in her life. She stayed at home to nurse her parents after her other siblings married and moved away. Never having kids of her own, she was loved by her music students. You should see the silver spoons her former students sent as gifts.”
He must have reacted to her words, because he watched her eyes narrow to slits.
“But I see you’ve already heard about those.”
“The spoons are in my notes.”
“Let me give it a shot. Either Dorothy or Martha made accusations against me. They think I’ve insinuated myself into Annie’s life for my own personal gain.” She jumped up and paced along the bench. “Either the spoon collection, or her tobacco holdings…”
Jake tried to ignore how her heightened color and tousled hair gave her a vibrant, alive look. The wrong type of thoughts for this investigation.
Darla whirled and planted her hands on the table. “They think I’m after the house.” She slumped to the bench and held her head in her hands. “That’s the thanks I get for working so hard to get this family together one more time. All I wanted was an opportunity to clear up the misunderstanding this stupid feud is based on.” Her head shot up, eyes shining. “That’s it—Annie’s last wish.”
***
Over the years, Jake Daniels had provided a security presence for a variety of unusual circumstances. Saturday’s funeral of Miss Annie Finster topped the list. Family members arrived before the scheduled memorial service and quickly split into groups on opposite sides of the folding chairs. Uncertain of how to act in a viewing room that lacked a coffin, people soon started a buzz of speculation.The moment a side door opened, all conversations stopped. Dressed in a muted gray suit, Darla Miller entered and quickly stepped to the front of the room. “Thank you for coming today. I’m glad to see so many of you. Your indulgence is requested on two matters this afternoon. I’ve researched the history and genealogy of the Finsters in Kansas and Missouri. One cousin never stole a land claim from the other. They courted the same girl, who ended up rejecting them both.”
Whispers rose from all around the room.
Darla looked at Jake, and he gave her a ‘thumbs-up’ sign. She was handling this perfectly.
She smiled, her stance relaxing. “Please take a copy of my findings from the back table on your way out. Reading the report will hopefully ease your suspicions about my presence here and about other members of the extended family.”
A quick nod to someone standing to the side, and the curtain behind her eased slowly open as she spoke, “Now I’m asking your help in accomplishing Aunt Annie’s final wish. Please come forward and pose for one last family photo.”
The curtain opened fully. Aunt Annie’s coffin rested propped at an angle, with risers situated to the sides and behind it.
A photographer stepped through the doorway, lugging his camera, tripod and light bar.
Captured by the magic of photography, the Finsters were united for one last time.
The End
As a young girl, I spent lots of time lying on my bed reading about fascinating characters having exciting adventures in places far away and in other time periods. In later years, I discovered and devoured romances. At a certain point, I grew cocky enough to think I could write one of these stories. Twelve years later, my first fiction sale was achieved–a confession story. Since then I’ve gone on to publish more than 35 short stories, novellas and novels. Married with 4 adult children and 2 granddaughters, I now write heartwarming contemporary and historical stories with a touch of humor and a bit of sass from my home in the southern California mountains. http://blog.lindacarroll-bradd.com/
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