"Broken Hearted Killers" - Chapter Four

The following blog entry is one chapter in “Broken Hearted Killers,” a serial novella written by 16 Writers Who Kill. To read the complete story, please begin with Chapter One, published on the WWK blog on February 2, 2023.

By Rosalie Spielman

“Renee!” gasped Helen, much louder and much more melodramatically than she had intended. “You took evidence from a crime scene!”

Renee flushed. “I told you I was frazzled. I didn’t mean to.”

“Regardless, you need to let that detective know,” said Nella. She pulled out her phone and picked up the detective’s card from the coffee table.

“No!” Renee batted the business card from Nella’s fingertips.

Helen stared at Renee. “Why did you do that?”

“My fingerprints are on the train now,” Renee stuttered, reddening further, and fidgeting with the train in her hand.

“So?” Helen said. “They’re also on Iris, and the doorknob.”

“And the red envelope,” muttered Nella as she bent to pick up the business card. She stood and went to the other side of Helen’s kitchen island to call the detective, turning her back on the other women.

Renee glared at Nella’s back, then narrowed her eyes at Helen. “I never touched anything,” she said.

Helen thought back to the other woman’s words. “You said her body was cold.”

Renee’s lips became even thinner, and when she opened her mouth to speak again, some of the too-red lipstick had transferred to her teeth. “I didn’t have to touch her to see she was dead.”

Helen shuddered at the image her imagination concocted. “Renee, when Iris and I were walking home from A Likely Story last night, she was in a good mood. She had a secret that she was pleased about but not ready to share. Did she mention her secret to you?”

“No,” Renee snapped quickly, perhaps a bit too aggressively. Her eyes narrowed and Helen could swear they were practically glowing green with jealousy. “She didn’t seem happy at all during our nightly talk,” she said in a snippy tone. “She seemed frightened. And like I said, she said to tell the police to look at you. Why would she be scared of you, Helen?”

Helen bit back a retort but couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. “She wasn’t scared of me, Renee,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “In fact, I’ve never seen Iris afraid of anything, and I’ve known her since we were kids. Perhaps she double booked her Saturday night. You do know she had a date with Charles Fairweather on Saturday, right?”

Renee’s face went pale, then flushed to almost purple and her fists clenched. She stood, stuck her pointy nose in the air and stomped out, slamming the door.

Nella came back and sat down again. “Goodness, what was that all about?”

“Renee has had the biggest crush on Charles Fairweather ever since he was her lawyer when she was sued,” Helen felt guilty about the pleasure she felt at poking Renee with Iris’s possible date with Charles, but no one said she had to take the high road. The woman did point the police at her, and for no reason other than to make trouble. “I'm not actually sure Iris had a date with him, but she was meeting with him Saturday.”

“Maybe she needed his legal expertise,” Nella said, but with a doubtful tone. “I was thinking about what Renee said about the Citizen of the Year Award being the murder weapon. I wonder….”

“What?” asked Helen. “If it was more than just a weapon close at hand?”

“Yes. I wonder if that was used because of what it represents,” said Nella. “I wonder if someone on the community garden committee held a grudge?”

“Iris did have a gift for rubbing people the wrong way, despite being the wife of a politician,” Helen said. “There’s probably a lot of people out there with a grudge against her.”

“Maybe there’s someone from the mayoral days, or the Friends of the Library Committee. Or in your book club.” Nella glanced back at her phone. “Perhaps you should make a list for the detective of the different groups she was involved with. He’ll be coming back when he’s done with his business at the crime scene.” A slight smile flitted across her lips.

“Oh, but I’m sure you need to get to work though,” Helen teased. “No sense in you sticking around. You only met Iris a time or two.”

“Oh, I think I should stay with you in your time of need.” Nella gave her an exaggerated wink. “Besides, I’m the boss.”

The women shared a smile, then fell quiet. After some contemplation, Helen spoke.

“I wonder what the deal with the train was?” she said. “If it has anything to do with the Page Turners.”

When Nella tilted her head in confusion, Helen went on to explain. “This last meeting, Philip Seaforth led a discussion, or rather, talked to himself for an hour about his book of choice, an extremely boring one about model trains.” Helen raised her brows for emphasis on the last words.

“Huh. Is there any reason Philip would have visited Iris?” Nella leaned back into the couch and crossed her legs. “Were they involved in any way?”

“Not that I’m aware of. She never expressed interest in him. And I don’t recall him being interested in her at all since Iris was, in fact, not a train,” Helen said. She tapped her lip with her finger, then held it in the air. “Ashley Ahlgren, now she is interested in him. And his trains.”

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Rosalie Spielman is a mother, veteran, and retired military spouse. She was thrilled to discover that she could make other people laugh with her writing and finds joy in giving people a humorous escape from the real world. Her cozy mystery novels are set in locales that have chickens—such as sunny Kauai and rural Idaho—writing for the multi-author Aloha Lagoon mystery series and her own Hometown Mystery series. She currently lives in Maryland with her husband in a rapidly emptying nest. For more information on her books or to subscribe to her newsletter, go to www.rosalie-spielman-author.com, or join her Facebook page (Rosalie Spielman author) or Facebook group (You Know The Spiel).