Impotent Death: A Paranormal Mystery

Chapter Seven

     Silence filled the room, and the two old women exchanged an uncomfortable glance. I immediately wished I'd found a different way to bring up the topic.
Mrs. Bakersfield looked down at the floor. "I was... just a little girl when it happened. My father came home looking very distraught one evening, so I asked him what was the matter. He told me a woman had been murdered by Kevin Raymond. It was a surprise to all of us; Mr. Raymond was a very respectable young man. He was always very kind to everyone."
"Well, you didn't know him very well at all, Sarah," Mrs. Harrison said, her voice taking on a cold tone. "And even those who did admitted later that there was a side to him they didn't know about before. A violent, deranged shadow of himself."
"Do you remember what Raymond was like?" I asked Mrs. Harrison.
"Oh, I never did get to meet him. My family hadn't moved to this town yet," she said. "But I didn't have to meet him to know he was a horrible man. He truly got what he deserved."
"Darlene, you can't say that. I did meet him, and although it was many, many years ago, I can still remember his lovely smile. He really was a charming fellow," said Mrs. Bakersfield, smiling to herself.
"How old were you when it happened?" I asked her curiously.
"My dear, don't you know how impolite it is to ask a woman's age?" Mrs. Harrison scolded.
"Oh, calm down, Darlene! I'm not ashamed of my age, even if you are!" said Mrs. Bakersfield, and Mrs. Harrison blushed. "Age is something to be proud of. I'm ninety-three as of last month. So, let's see... I must have been about thirteen or fourteen at the time."
Wow. I was talking to someone who was a teenager back in 1933! I felt like I'd traveled back in time just by talking to her.
"That is so crazy!" I exclaimed. "You're almost a century old! Just seven more years."
"It's wonderful, isn't it?" Mrs. Bakersfield agreed. "I've already started planning my birthday party; and you are certainly invited!"
"Cool!" I said. In seven years I'd be... twenty three? I could definitely come back and see Mrs. Bakersfield for her hundredth birthday. "Okay, so anyway, I wanted to ask if either of you remember Anthony Green. He was Robyn Weller's husband."
"Why do you want to know about him?" Mrs. Harrison wondered.
     "I'm just curious. It was an interesting murder, I want to learn more about it," I said. It was the truth. "Do you know how his relationship with Robyn was before she was killed?"
     "Robyn was a interior designer, I remember that," Mrs. Bakersfield said. "She actually did some of the decorating for this house. That vase over there in the corner was from her."
     I looked at the vase Mrs. Bakersfield was pointing at; it was tall with a pretty light blue color.
    "You know... Mrs. Weller would often make complaints about her husband when she was over decorating," Mrs. Bakersfield recalled. "She talked with my mother a lot about how she wanted a divorce."
     "What? She wanted to get a divorce with Anthony?" I asked, shocked.
     Mrs. Bakersfield nodded. "If I remember right, it was because she'd fallen in love with another man. Don't ask me his name, I couldn't remember a detail like that. I mainly remember her just being unhappy."
     So Robyn wanted a divorce with Anthony. That would certainly make him angry. Angry enough to kill her?
     "What was Anthony like?" I asked them, now sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Did he—get upset with people easily?"
     "Yes, actually," Mrs. Bakersfield said this time. "He was short-tempered. There was a time when old Randy Bones spilled a big bucket of dirt on Anthony's lawn and Anthony yelled at him for quite a while."
     "He was kind, but he could make your life miserable if you got on his bad side," Mrs. Harrison added.
     This was exactly what I'd wanted to hear. Anthony had a temper! And that was what led him to kill his wife! I couldn't believe this!
     "So if Robyn got on his bad side... what do you think he would have done to her?" I asked slowly.
     Mrs. Harrison suddenly gave me a strange look. "Wait a minute, Makayla. Are you suggesting Anthony was the one who killed Mrs. Weller?"
     "It's possible," I said with a shrug. "I mean, he seemed to have more of a motive than Raymond did. Everyone assumed it was Raymond because it happened in his house, but what if Anthony just set it up that way?"
     "But there was an eyewitness who saw the whole thing," Mrs. Harrison pointed out.
     "Just because the witness saw Raymond next to Weller's dead body doesn't mean they saw him actually kill her," I argued.
     "My, the youth these days are crazier than I ever could've ever imagined," Mrs. Harrison said, shaking her head. "Believing someone was falsely accused of murder decades later—and after the crime was thoroughly investigated by professionals."
     "One of the people who investigated the murder was Anthony Green," I told her, now standing up. "What if he destroyed the evidence against himself and framed Raymond?"
     "That's quite a stretch—" Mrs. Harrison began.
     "— but not impossible," Mrs. Bakersfield cut in. She was smiling. "I can tell you're a clever girl, Makayla, the way you're asking all of these questions. The murder wasn't investigated thoroughly enough, if you ask me."
     "You—you agree with me?" I asked in surprise.
     She sighed. "After all these years, I still don't know what to think of that murder. Everyone just assumed Mr. Raymond was the guilty one. It felt like more of an assumption than anything. They could have investigated further, but they chose to take the short cut and throw Mr. Raymond in prison for life, even without being certain."
     I raised my eyebrows. "You mean... they didn't actually have enough evidence to convict him?"
     "Oh, no, they had plenty of evidence. They just didn't listen to the poor man's pleas of innocence," said Mrs. Bakersfield, taking a small sip of her tea.
     "Sarah, of course anyone would claim to be innocent of murder, even if they weren't," Mrs. Harrison said.
     Did Mrs. Bakersfield really think Raymond was innocent? She was the only person I'd met so far who suspected that. Maybe Raymond's spirit had communicated with her somehow.
     "Well... thanks for talking to me, you guys," I said to the two old ladies. I grabbed my backpack by one strap. "I should get going now..."
     "Leaving so soon?" Mrs. Bakersfield said sadly.
     "Have a safe walk home, my dear," Mrs. Harrison said she accompanied me to the front door. "You're welcome to come chat with us any time you like."
     I smiled. "Thanks. I appreciate it."