charliesmum | 44,161

Sadly I think I will run out of plot before I make the 50,000, but the point of this was to get a novel done, and if I get to the 'finis' then I've won, no matter what, right? Right.

164 pages double spaced in Times New Roman. It's like a real manuscript or something.

I decided to distract myself from my impure thoughts about the detective by going to the hospital to check on Carrie and the others. To tell the truth, I was feeling a bit guilty I hadn’t done this earlier, but with one thing and another, it’d been a weird morning. I suppose I was allowed a momentary lapse of concern for other people.

I was a bit worried that Carrie would still be too sick for visitors, but to my relief they let me in to see her. My first sight of her made me almost burst into tears. She was very pale, and had all the wires stuck to her. I must have looked horrified because she said, “Don’t be a dork, Maggie. I’m fine. The hospital just likes to make it look like the insurance company is getting their money’s worth, that’s all.”

I managed a smile, knowing Carrie really didn’t like people making a fuss over her. “Just promise me the next time there’s cake in the kitchen, take a small piece.”

She gave a tired chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’m off sweets for good. Hey, maybe I’ve found the ultimate diet secret. Get poisoned and be conditioned to avoid sugary treats for the rest of your life.”

We laughed a little, then fell silent, both realizing it wasn’t really a laughing matter. “I checked up on the others,” I said finally. “They are all going to be released tonight if they don’t show any more signs of the poison being in their bodies.”

“Lucky them. I have to stay one more night, make sure my heart didn’t sustain any permanent damage.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. “Bummer.”

“Yeah. It’s okay though. Steve’s come and visited a couple of times. He wasn’t as badly off as everyone else. He has been amazing this whole time. Not only did he take care of me before the ambulance came, he kept having his nurse check on my condition, and he even sent me flowers. Can you imagine? There he is, lying in a hospital after puking his guts out, and he takes the time to send me flowers.”

“Steve’s a nice guy.” I said, wondering if this was going to be the beginning of a ‘thing’ between them. Steve, as I mentioned before, has been in love with Carrie for years, but, just wasn’t Carrie’s type. She usually went for the more handsome and dashing kind of a guy.

She must have been thinking along the same lines because she said, almost defensively, “Looks fade, but nice lasts forever, you know.”

“I wouldn’t disagree,” I answered, laughing. “I learned that lesson the hard way. Better a slightly geeky and faithful man than a handsome cad, that’s my motto. I’m thinking of embroidering it on a pillow.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Carrie said, “It hurts too much. So, what’s been going on? You know, aside from a murder investigation.”

I filled her in on what little I knew. “Paul...Detective Morris is looking into things. He isn’t sure yet if this was a random wacko attack or deliberate.”

“Paul, is it?” Carrie had a knack for picking out innuendo. “Paul? The guy you were talking to while I was being mauled by the ambulance people? He’s hot.”

“Leave it to you to notice such things even while you’re throwing up.”

“Hey, it’s what I do.” She was silent a moment, and when she spoke again, all traces of humor were gone. “Who did this, Maggie? Who would try to kill an office full of people?”

“I wish I knew.” I told her my ghost cake theory, but she didn’t seem to buy it.

“That seems just too...well poisoning a cake to get attention sounds more like something a crazy stalker would do, not someone who was trying to get a promotion.”

“What I want to know is how the cake got there in the first place. Who brought it in?”

“I don’t know. I just noticed it when I was getting a coke from the machine. Jeannie would know, I suppose.”

“Poor Jeannie. She got stuck watching the paramedics take care of Bob’s body.” I shuddered. “Ick. I should go see how she’s doing.”

“And how are you doing?”
“Me? Fine.”

Carrie raised her eyebrow. “Really? You’re the one who found the body. You’re the one who took care of me, and called 911. This had to be a bit of a trial for you, too.”

“Yes, but I’m not the one lying in the hospital with a tube in my nose. I’ll be fine.”

She started to say something but was interrupted by the arrival of Steve, bearing balloons. He saw me and hesitated in the doorway, his face turning crimson with embarrassment.

“How are you?” I asked him, trying very hard not to giggle.

“I’m fine, now. Thank you. How are you doing?”

“I’ll survive.” I glanced at Carrie. To my surprise and budding delight she was also blushing. Maybe something really will come of this. “And I’d better go now. Call me when you’re released, okay?”

I gave Carrie a careful hug goodbye, waved to Steve, who looked rather pleased to see me go, to tell the truth, and after stopping off to say hello to Geoff and Andrea, I headed home.

There was a message waiting for me on the machine. “Good afternoon, Margaret. This is Alison Bender. I thought you would like to attend Robert’s funeral. It is scheduled for tomorrow morning at ten.” Bob’s wife didn’t sound particularly broken hearted while discussing the funeral of her husband, but that was typical of her. She was one of those women who probably wouldn’t show emotion if her bottom were on fire. She went on to tell me the name of the funeral home and then hung up without saying goodbye.
It’s probably uncharitable to call a woman who just lost her husband a nasty name, but I did it anyway. Something about Mrs. Bender always got on my last nerve. I don’t think she liked me much.

The next day I got dressed in my most somber outfit and headed over to the Andrew’s Funeral Home to say my final good-byes to Bob.

I was milling about in the little room just outside the chapel, feeling a bit out of place amongst Bob’s family and wondering if I were going to be the only Bender and Bender employee present when Paul Morris came in, wearing the same bad suit he had on when I first met him. Old habits die hard, I guess. I trotted over to say hello, hoping I didn’t look too eager. “Scoping out suspects?” I asked him, then immediately wished I hadn’t when he frowned at me. “Sorry. I just watched too much television as a kid.”
“It’s okay,” he said in a low voice. “I was actually hoping to speak with Mrs. Bender. She keeps refusing to speak to me. She answered all our initial questions, but when I went back she shut me down. I thought maybe I could catch her in public, get her to agree to a meeting or something.”

“Well, I’d say that was suspicious but between you and me, she’s kind of a bitch.”

He laughed at that, earning us a couple of nasty glares from people near by. “Well, she did say it was a difficult time now, which is understandable. Possibly showing up at the funeral wasn’t the most discreet way of going about it.”

“Well, maybe I can help you out. I’ll introduce you later at the reception.”

“That would be nice.” He sure had a nice smile. “I can’t stay, though. I’m on duty.”

I tried not to look too disappointed. “Well, want me to take notes on who shows up? See if anyone looks suspicious?”

He grinned again. “Maggie, you really did watch too much television.”

I watched him go, then saw Terry talking with Mrs. Bender, and figured I ought to go offer my condolences. As I approached, I heard Terry saying, “...Why can’t we?”

Mrs. Bender hissed her reply. “Because it will look suspicious, that’s why. It’s the first thing...” she must have seen me coming because she stopped mid-hiss, and offered me what I assume meant to be a polite smile. “Ah, Margaret. Good of you to come.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Bender, and yours, too, Terry. I’m sure it must be a very anxious time for you both.” I looked closely at both of them searching for something that would explain the conversation I’d just heard. I’m not sure what I was looking for, guilty, furtive glances, sweat dripping from their foreheads, big signs that said ‘we did it! We poisoned Bob’, anything. But they were either great actors or I’d misheard what had been said because both of them looked polite and composed as they thanked me for my sympathy and urged me into the chapel.

Based on what I knew about Bob’s life, I had rather expected the chapel to be like that scene in the movie Charade, where Audrey Hepburn sits alone in front of the coffin as the eventual suspects come trotting in one by one. But no, Bob was either more respected than I’d known, or everyone in town wanted to see that he was really dead.

I took a seat toward the back and looked around. I saw Geoff sitting with someone I presumed to be his wife. He looked like he’d recovered from his ordeal and was casting his eye over the congregation in such a way that I suspected he was trying to figure out how he could work his sales pitch in during the reception. Andrea was sitting a few pews behind Terry Bender and the rest of the family. She was alone, and I wondered, not for the first time, if she’d ever gotten over her affair with Terry. Jeannie and Steve were sitting together across the aisle from me; I gave a cautious wave when Steve looked in my direction. Carrie was out of the hospital but on strict orders to stay in bed for at least one more day.
I was mostly joking when I talked to Paul about the poisoner showing up at the funeral, but all through the service I couldn’t help but wonder if the person who killed Bob wasn’t sitting somewhere nearby, gloating over his success. It could be any one of the people here. It could be the rather sweaty man sitting directly to my left. It could be anyone. I didn’t envy Paul his job.

At the reception, I tried really hard to make like Nancy Drew and see if I could figure out if anyone there had a motive to poison Bob, but apparently my resemblance to Nancy ends at our hair color. I tried to make small talk with the various family members, but my polite discussion of the food and cheerful remembrances of Bob didn’t cause anyone to jump up and shout, “I did it and I’m glad I did it!” so I soon gave that up as a bad job.

I talked briefly with Geoff, who constantly looked over my head to make sure there weren’t more important people to be talking with, and passed a few minutes with Andrea, who kept glancing over to where Terry was sitting.

Based on the conversation I overheard, or thought I overheard, my two main suspects were Bob’s wife and brother. Alison Bender was drifting around the room like a good hostess, putting on an appropriate bereaved face whenever the situation seemed to warrant it. Terry Bender sat alone, downing Scotch and watching the people with dour eyes. Neither of them acted exactly like a murderer, but then again, I wasn’t really sure what a murderer would act like.

I was just thinking about saying my goodbyes and making my escape when I saw Jeannie sitting alone on the couch, looking distraught. “Hey,” I said, sitting next to her, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since all this happened, how are you holding up?”

Jeannie shrugged. “I’m okay. This is just…it’s weird.”

“Yeah, I suppose. It’s sad. Poor Bob.” I sighed. “I still don’t understand how this could happen.”
“Do you…do you think they know who did it?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure they’re working on it. Hey, you don’t know who brought the cake in, do you?”
Jeannie shook her head. “No. The police already asked me that. It came in the mail. I figured it was from a grateful client or something. Was it really poisoned?”

Well, duh, I thought. She must have read that in my expression because she quickly clarified, “I mean, it was definitely poison that was in the cake, not something accidental or anything.”
“They did tests on the piece of cake I’d saved, and yeah, it was poisoned. You don’t usually put oleander in a cake on purpose.”

“Why did you have a piece of cake? I thought you were dieting.”

“I can have sweets sometimes,” I said, affronted. “Anyway I hadn’t eaten it. Thank God.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This is just all very upsetting. I don’t even know what’s going to happen with our jobs or anything.”

“I’m sure it will all work out.” We sat quietly for a few more minutes, then I stood up. “Well, I think I’ve stayed long enough. I think I’ll say goodbye and go home.”

Jeannie stood up too, “Can you give me a ride home? Steve brought me, but he left right after the service to go check on Carrie.

I smiled at that. Ah, romance. “Yeah, I’ll give you a ride. Come on.”

As we made our way toward Alison Bender, a strange thing happened. A woman, maybe a few years younger than I, walked over to Mrs. Bender, who positively recoiled at the sight of her. The woman was taller than Mrs. Bender, dark skinned and beautiful, and looked extremely exotic next to Mrs. Bender’s general Waspish coloring and demeanor. I wasn’t close enough yet to make out the conversation, but I could tell it wasn’t a polite one. I jumped to the immediate conclusion that the exotic stranger was, in fact, Bob’s rumored mistress, a theory that was encouraged by the little exchange I witnessed. I reached the pair just as the exotic stranger was saying, “…don’t care what you threaten. Someday I’ll tell everyone the truth.” Before Mrs. Bender could reply woman turned on her heel and strode majestically away.
I approached Mrs. Bender, smiling like I hadn’t heard anything, and held out my hand.

“Mrs. Bender. Again, I’m sorry for your loss. It was a lovely service. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

Mrs. Bender stared at me for a moment like she was trying to place me. “Oh, yes. Margaret. Thank you. Bob always spoke highly of your skills as an assistant.”

I was about to make some polite noises in response to that slightly back-handed compliment when her next comment floored me. “I suppose that’s why he mentioned you in his will.”

Off to bed. Hopefully I'll actually sleep tonight. Fingers crossed!