Doors, Danishes & Death Read online

  And to think it had all started with him being honored at the town centennial.

  Cookie and Jerry sat and had breakfast with George and Batina, hoping to explain some of the details of what had happened. While they sat at the kitchen table of the Merriam’s apartment in the retirement home, Cookie gave George a very old envelope with an equally old letter inside. She told him to read it, because it explained a lot.

  The silver wasn’t the only thing they’d found in that cold, dry space beneath the stairs.

  Written in the looping scrawl of a woman’s hand, the letter wasn’t addressed to anyone. It was meant to be read by whoever found it. Cookie was giving it to George because… well, you’ll see, she told him.

  My name is Hester Merriam. I killed my husband, Jozebus.

  I’m writing this confession now because honestly, I don’t know how much longer I will be on this mortal coil. I’m not young anymore, but I don’t believe old age will take me. No, it will be the guilt and sadness that I carry inside of me.

  I don’t feel guilty for killing Jozebus. He deserved to be stabbed in the back as I did, and he deserved to be tied to that chair with the chains we use on the animals for slaughter. Daily I pray to God that he might resurrect my husband so that I can kill him again. I will never regret that he is dead.

  The sadness I have is for my son, dead in a fire on the Main Street of this very town.

  He was driven from our home by my husband. Jozebus turned him out because our son had dared to love a man. I know it is not the sort of love most people find acceptable, but if love was his crime then we are all guilty of it. He did not deserve to be whipped with a belt or scolded or thrown out of our house. Jozebus all but disowned our son and that is what sent him to that tenement apartment on Main Street, and from there to his death.

  I only went there to plead with him to come home. I only went there because I love my boy and I wanted to see our family made whole again. He made me so angry when I arrived, and he in his anger tried to throw me out of his living space as his father had done to him. I was so mad, and so beside myself that I picked up the lamp and I smashed it to the floor.

  The flames spread so very fast. There was no stopping them. No water could quell the blaze I started. I was able to escape the flames; my son was not.

  If Jozebus had not thrown our son away like he did our household garbage, then he would be alive today and I would not be a murderer. Twice a murderer, for I have killed our son, and I have killed my husband as revenge. I have told anyone who asks that Jozebus went out to sea, and I will soon claim that he died there. Far easier than explaining how I chained him to a chair and cleaved his heart with an ice pick.

  As the fire is my fault, I intend to give the bulk of our secret silver fortune over to the town council to rebuild. Some good should come from me. I shall toil all the rest of my days to make right what has gone so wrong. I know I can never make up for what I have done, but maybe if I try, the good Lord will smile on me again. Someday.

  Jozebus will stay where he is, rotting and stinking like his soul did while he was alive. I’ll leave a little bit of my fortune buried with him, in case I ever run out. The stash will be safe here. No one will ever know it is there, for I intend to seal over the only door to the cold cellar and pretend it never existed. In time, I’m sure the world will forget the name of Jozebus Merriam, and what he did to our family.

  Someday, I might forget as well.

  Hester Merriam

  George laid the letter carefully on the table, and began to cry. Batina leaned over to hold him close, lending him strength without ever saying a word.

  Now they knew the secret of Widow’s Rest. It would change life in this town, maybe forever. It had already changed the life of everyone sitting at this table. Catching Cookie’s eye, Jerry motioned that they should leave, and she agreed. It was time to let George and Batina have their privacy so they could grieve and talk, and show each other the kind of undying love that so few people were ever lucky enough to find.

  Holding Jerry’s hand on the way home, Cookie counted herself among the lucky few.

  -The end-

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  About the Author

  Strongly influenced by authors like James Patterson, Dick Francis, and Nora Roberts, Kathrine Emrick dreamed of being an author for the majority of her life.

  She never quite gave up on the idea of being a published author and at the age of 51, thanks to Amazon and their Kindle platform, she finally realized her dream. Her maturity allows her to bring a variety of experiences and observations to her writing.

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  Table of Contents

  Doors Danishes and Death - Cookie and Cream Cozy Mystery Book 3

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  About the Author