Larkin's Landing_A Tombora Springs Mystery Read online

  Larkin’s Landing

  A Tombora Springs Mystery

  S K Wee

  Cover art – RM Gauthier Designs

  Editing – Silvia’s Reading Corner

  Text copyright 2018 S K Wee

  All Right Reserved

  This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental

  Other Books by S K Wee

  Spectrum of Color Series

  Absence of Color

  Color of Evil

  Whisper of Color

  Full Spectrum of Color

  Whispers From Beyond Trilogy

  (Set in the Spectrum of Color Universe)

  Dancing Through Dreams

  Dragonkin

  Marked by Fate

  Paranormal Romance

  Nun Worth Keeping (Coming Soon)

  Dedication

  Larkin’s Landing is my first venture into contemporary fiction. Though the story involves a murder mystery, the underlying theme is a compelling testament to the value and importance of the friendship between the two main characters, Fee and Tara. Therefore, I would like to dedicate this novel to my BFF, Debbie. When we were in high school we partnered on a marketing project, which involved the development of a future business model. I believe our business would look a lot like Larkin’s Landing.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Part Two

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Fee

  Staring out the window, the whole world seemed to be blanketed in silence. The fresh coating of snow created a surreal almost picture-perfect setting. It wasn’t until I saw movement from an oncoming snowplow that the magic disappeared and I looked away from the scene and back to reality.

  Yes, my daughter still lay near death, hooked up to numerous machines to measure her vital signs. Lizzie looked like a small doll. A small broken doll, at that. She was still so very beautiful and my heart was full of love. But love was far from enough. My family kept preaching that we needed to believe in miracles and for months I did, but it was all in vain. For some reason, God wanted our Lizzie with him, our littlest angel. I hated the thought of giving my baby up, but the doctors already tried to prepare us. I was disturbed from my thoughts as my husband, Rich, came back from the cafeteria.

  “Phoebe, I found your favorite, a chicken wrap. You have to eat something, come on and sit down here. I’ve brought a bottle of flavored water also.” Rich set up the little table in front of the chair next to the bed.

  “Richard, I’m not hungry at all. Just set it down, I may feel like eating later. Thank you for thinking of me.” I felt like saying, I hate chicken and I hate flavored water. After seven years of marriage, you still haven’t figured that out! But there was no reason to vent my frustration—he was only trying to help.

  “No change in Elizabeth, I see. At least she’s not any worse.” We quietly sat vigil over our daughter. Her breathing became even more labored; I could actually hear the fluid rattling in her lungs. They pumped her lungs earlier, but we were warned that it was only temporary. They would fill once again, and we decided not to put our poor wee child through anymore. I sat on the edge of her bed and held onto her small, frail hand. Lizzie never woke as she took her last breath. I would have truly loved to see her shining eyes and beautiful smile once more, but that was not to be.

  When the buzzers went off, the nurse quietly removed all of Lizzie’s attachments, and we were given time to say our farewells before they removed her from the room. Her body was to be sent over to Purton’s Funeral Home. I quickly sent a text to one of my sister-in-laws. I told April to inform the rest of the family. I have a large family, four brothers, three of which are married and three younger sisters, one of which is married. Plus, my parents who owned a large dairy farm east of town. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, nor did I think I could.

  Rich guided me to the elevator and out the hospital entrance. My mind was still a fog of pain and disbelief. I was trying to come up with some sort of scenario that would make this all a big mistake or maybe I was still asleep and none of this really happened. The thought of living without Lizzie in my life was impossible to contemplate. Rich helped me into our SUV and started it up. There was a layer of snow on the vehicle, but he just turned the wipers on and started to back up.

  Within just a couple of minutes, we were in front of the funeral home. All I could do was stare. It felt so wrong that we would be here, so very wrong. “We might as well get this started, Fee. I’m as heartbroken as you are, but we need to carry on.” Rich was right, of course. My denial was not going to help matters. We needed to be strong for each other. He had just lost his only child, also. I needed to comfort him, though I really didn’t want to at this point.

  “Yes, let’s get this over with.” By the time we got to the door, Mark Purton was holding it open for us. Mark was a childhood friend of my oldest brother and I had known him all my life.

  “Fee, I’m so sorry. The hospital just called. Come in, I’ve already put some fresh coffee on.” Mark led us to his office and got us each a cup of coffee. It smelled wonderful, not at all like the hospital coffee.

  “Thanks, Mark.” He smiled as he sat behind his desk. Mark had taken over the company from his grandfather who recently retired. Though Mark was rugged and handsome, he was still single. I don’t remember him ever being in a serious relationship. Of course, his line of work kept many of the prospects at bay, but he was such a friendly man, I couldn’t help but wonder why he never married.

  “Rich and Fee, I have some brochures for you to look at. Don’t worry about any of the details, I’ll take care of everything once I know what you want to do.” I glanced at the brochure but couldn’t grasp any sort of possible choice.

  “Mark, I’m not ready for this! I still can’t believe she’s gone and until I can, I don’t think I’ll be able to do this.” The idea that Lizzie wouldn’t be gone if I refused to look at caskets was ludicrous, but I don’t think I was in a sensible frame of mind.

  “I understand, Fee, and I’ll help you any way I can. I’ve printed up a small book of prayers.” Mark handed me a beautiful devotional booklet. “Take this and the brochures home with you and I can stop over tomorrow if that is more comfortable for you.” My vision blurred with unshed tears, but I thanked him and pretended to look through the book.

  “Mark, I would like to get everything started. Fee can sit this one out. I just went through this with my mother last year and my father a few years before that. I would like to get most of the arrangements settled today. As you know, I have a business to run also and I’ve already taken off more time than I should.” Rich sounded cold and unfeeling. I knew he wasn’t quite as emotionally invested as I was with our daughter, and I suddenly felt more alone than ever.

  “Rich, wha
tever you want to do is fine with me.” I really didn’t want anything to do with these arrangements. I just wanted to hold my daughter close and smell her hair and skin. I always used the lavender scented wash for her and the smell would permeate all her clothes and belongings. Right now, I wanted to go into her room and smell everything, hold everything close.

  Mark and Rich leaned over the desk with their heads close as Rich chose the permanent resting place of our one and only child. Rich had always been fairly thrifty, and I knew that he would be choosing a cheaper coffin than what I would, but I still couldn’t stand the thought of even looking at them. If I did, I would be admitting that it was true and that she was really gone.

  Once they finally finished what could be done, we stood and thanked Mark for his assistance. At least I did. Rich would just assume that because Mark made money from our grief that, no thanks were required. But I knew that Mark would make this as easy for me as he could and therefore I needed to show my appreciation.

  As we turned onto our street, I immediately noticed that our house was well lit. I’m sure my family thought they were supportive and helpful, but I really needed to be alone with my grief. At some future point, I may want their support, but I wasn’t to that point yet. I needed to be alone, but of course, like with everything else in my life, I went with the flow. Two of my sisters were there along with my mother.

  Marsha was four years younger than I was; she just got married last year to the high-school football star, Travis Thorton. Though he started college with a football scholarship at Michigan State, he found he wasn’t cut out for that sort of life and quit after two years. He came back to Tombora Springs and got a job at the feed mill. Marsha always insinuated herself into my business, no matter what that business was. She was the one that preached louder and longer than any other about the power of prayer and how God would heal Lizzie if we all believed.

  “God has taken our Lizzie home, Fee. He, in His goodness, has an important mission for our little girl. All will become clear if we pray for healing.” Marsha was beginning to sound even more fanatical in her preaching. Lizzie wasn’t ‘our’ Lizzie, she was mine.

  “Thank you for coming, Marsha.” I wanted to say, Why can’t you leave me alone? “Joan, don’t you have school tomorrow?” My second sister was a senior in high school.

  “I wanted to make sure you were all right, Fee. I know it’s such a sad time and you probably want to have some time alone, but you need your family around you.”

  “I do want some time alone. I know that Lizzie was sick for quite a while and maybe I should have come to terms with the outcome, but I haven’t yet. I think if I could sit alone it would help.” At least someone thought about me.

  My mother chose that time to take me into her arms. I couldn’t hold anything back at that point. She must have seen my struggle. She walked me through the house and up the stairs. I thought maybe she was going to put me to bed like she did when I was a child, but she walked past our room and opened Lizzie’s bedroom door. I pulled away from her and ran into the room grabbing anything within reach. I had clothes in one hand and a stuffed lion in the other when I reached the bed and fell onto it. My knees automatically came up to my chest in a fetal position as I sobbed out my anguish into the treasures I held in my hands.

  Hours later, my head pounded from all the crying and my eyes were swollen and crusted shut from falling asleep, I rose from Lizzie’s small toddler bed and looked around. My mother had turned on a small lamp and closed the door. I was totally immersed in what had been my daughter’s world. Her toys, her clothes, her drawings—everything she was.

  The house was very quiet when I left Lizzie’s room. I could hear soft snores coming from our room. Rich was soundly sleeping. I walked by and went downstairs. There was a lamp lit in the front entryway, but everyone else had left. Thank God for my mother. I felt strongly that it was her idea to leave me alone with my grief.

  It was hours before dawn, but I decided to put a pot of coffee on because I knew that in a couple of hours there would be non-stop well wishers coming through. Rich would leave as soon as he could, saying he was needed down at the hardware store; thus, I would be alone to deal with all of it.

  Lying on the counter was the pamphlet that Mark made up for us. I decided that I should at least be somewhat informed about the arrangements before I was bombarded with questions. I realized that a sort of numbness was now flowing through me. I didn’t think anything would penetrate the ice forming around my heart and I needed that extra shield for as long as possible.

  So with a cup of hot coffee in hand to contrast what felt like ice pumping through my veins, I looked at my daughter’s funeral portfolio with calm, cool, detached emotion.

  Chapter Two

  Tara

  Just as I pulled the door to the beauty shop open, the noon whistle blew. I thought for sure I was going to be late once again. I worked the late shift at the restaurant the night before, and by the time I managed to drag my body up the stairs to bed, it was after two in the morning. I had a message from Raine and by the time I was done talking to him, it was after four. My fiancé, Raine, joined the Air Force last year and because he was stationed in Turkey, his hours are very different than mine. I never seem to remember when he says he will call so it’s usually hit and miss.

  His parents own the resort called Larkin’s Landing, where I live. It’s mostly a seasonal business. They keep the bar and restaurant going through the winter with reduced hours of operation, but the campground is closed until the first of May. Usually, there isn’t much business through the winter months but the fresh snow was enough to open the snowmobile trails, and thus the bar and restaurant were quite busy.

  My second job is in town at the Curled Up Beauty Shop. I had always wanted to become a beautician ever since I was four years old and my mom brought me into a beauty parlor for the first time. I know it isn’t a great ambition but it is really what I enjoy doing. Helping Raine’s family at the resort certainly helps with the bills, but I’m not nearly as comfortable working there.

  For one thing, his father, Vince, has a serious drinking problem. He’s a huge man who is getting larger. I’m sure he must weight over three hundred pounds and sometimes he can get really mean, though not usually with any of us females. He usually flirts outrageously with us, and I think more than a few times he’s taken it farther with Bonnie. I’ve seen them disappear into the back room several times and when Vince comes back out, he has a certain satisfied or satiated look to him. Bonnie is younger than his son, so it seems disgusting to me, but I try not to judge.

  This is just one of the ongoing problems I face at the resort. More than once I’ve caught Raine’s mother taking money from the cash register. Since I don’t have to deal with the cash directly, I’m not affected, but some of the bartenders have come up short on occasion and I know of one that was fired not long ago. He wasn’t working when I witnessed Marge taking money, but I feel certain that it could have been her. I’m sure she does it more than the couple of times I’ve seen her.

  The point is, I don’t feel very comfortable at the resort. They let me stay in one of the small apartments rent-free, which is wonderful, since I’m trying to save for our wedding, but I still don’t like being there. I’ve never mentioned any of this to Raine—he cares a lot for his family and wants to take over the business eventually.

  My first appointment of the day was running a little late, so I had plenty of time to get my workstation set up. I didn’t have a lot of clients, but I seemed to pick one or two up every couple of months. One of the older women recently retired, and I ended up with several new clients from her. One of them was my first appointment of the day, Phoebe Siddons. Phoebe and her husband owned the local hardware store and she is one of the nicest people you could ever meet. She always asked about Raine and what plans I have made. I know her daughter has been diagnosed with stage-four cancer and is very sick. I had given her a stuffed animal the last time she was in. I’ve
only seen her daughter once but I could tell she was very special.

  When I heard the tingling of the door opening, I looked up and knew immediately that Phoebe was in mourning. “Fee, come sit down.” I led her to my chair. Fee usually only had her nails done, but once in a while, she would add in extras. She had beautiful long, blond hair and always kept it in a braid down her back. I’ve always believed that she didn’t get it cut or even styled due to religious reasons. I really didn’t know why it was okay to get your nails done but not your hair.

  “Thanks, Tara. Sorry I’m late, I’ve been busy.” Fee sat down in the chair set up for manicures.

  “Is it Lizzie?” I could see the grief surrounding her like a dark cloud.

  “She left us. She’s gone.” Fee sounded devastated. “The visitation is tomorrow and funeral is set for Friday morning.”

  “So soon?”

  “Yes, Rich wants to get everything over as soon as possible. I feel like I’m just going through the motions of what everyone else wants me to do or say.”

  “Oh, Fee! I wish I could wave a magic wand and have everything warm and wonderful for you. You truly deserve happiness, not this sorrow.” During times like these, I always feel useless—there was nothing I could do to make this any better for my friend.

  “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll make it through. I believe Lizzie is smiling down on me, telling me that she’s all right and everything is going to be fine.” Fee gave me a sad smile.

  “If you need anything, please don’t be afraid to ask. I know you have a big family to lean on, but sometimes you need a friend, and I would certainly hope you consider me that.” I knew that Fee and I were in completely different social circles. Her family was the religious sort, where mine was anything but. I really liked Fee though and wanted her to know that she could turn to me for anything.