Categories > Original > Mystery > The Martindale Murders
Nineteen-eighty-three Natchez Drive, stone driveway on the right. Eileen MacDonald drove her battered ‘64 Chevy Nova slowly down the road peering out of the windshield into the dark drizzly afternoon. She was trying to find the Charles Burgess Mortuary. 1969, 1971, 1973, 1975, 1977, that was it, what happened to 1983? Eileen pulled over and unearthed her map again. Switching on the overhead light, she tried studying it once more.
“It’s hopeless, I’m never going to find it,” she moaned. Feeling bewildered, she shifted the car into reverse and backed into a driveway. Turning around, Eileen headed for the nearest gas station to ask directions.
Misery engulfed her as she drove to the main road. Eileen was near to tears. Getting this job seemed like a dream. Not that working in a funeral home was a dream job. Just having a job was a dream. She looked down at her watch. 3:45 PM and her interview was at 4:00 PM. Eileen kept driving until she spied a gas station. Her ancient Chevy rattled and shuddered as she pulled into the illuminated station. She noticed a few straggly pansies planted in the dirt in front of the white painted concrete block building being watered by the rain. They weren’t mulched and needed fertilizer.
A grease-covered mechanic approached her car through the rain. “Fill her up?” he asked, smiling at her. Hmm, nice smile. Eileen gave him a quick appraisal. Seductive blue eyes, sun bleached hair, high cheekbones, hard, corded muscles, no wedding ring. Reaching for the hose, he asked again. “Fill her up?”
“Uh, no, just directions,” sighed Eileen. His welcoming smile was like a beacon of light against the darkness.
Pointing to the map, she indicated with her finger, “I need directions to the Charles Burgess Mortuary, because I have an interview in 15, no 10 minutes. If I don’t find it soon, I’m going to miss it. I’m frantic.”
“This map is 20 years old. You would never have found it. The old building burned down about 10 years ago. It’s been rebuilt. The Post Office kept the same address except it’s located in the opposite direction now.”
“Now, I have 5 minutes, if you keep talking, I’m going to miss it completely.” Eileen was flustered, face flushed red, opening and closing her hands. “Do you know how many applications I had to put in just to get this one interview?”
“In that case, slide over, and I’ll drive. Stop hyperventilating or I’ll get you a paper bag to breathe into.”
“Just drive!” Eileen commanded, sliding to the far side of the car at the same time.
Eileen’s car spun out of the gas station and headed in the opposite direction. They passed oak and pine forests. 1983 Natchez Drive was painted on a black mailbox. She saw a sign indicating the Charles Burgess Mortuary and they turned up a stone driveway on the right side of the road. The mechanic screeched to a halt in front of an imposing brick building with large white pillars.
“And a minute to spare,” he flashed his amazing smile again. It was like a hand squeezing her heart, giving her encouragement. He watched as Eileen bounded out of the car and up the stairs. Rob scrutinized her assets from behind. Nice ass, classy dresser, hair so straight, he bet she ironed it. He took a deep breath. Ah, Cachet, his favorite perfume; she smelled like a girl should.
“And a minute to spare,” he flashed his amazing smile again. It was like a hand squeezing her heart, giving her encouragement. He watched as Eileen bounded out of the car and up the stairs. Rob scrutinized her assets from behind. Nice ass, classy dresser, hair so straight, he bet she ironed it. He took a deep breath. Ah, Cachet, his favorite perfume, she smelled like a girl should.
“I’ll wait for you,” stated the mechanic.
“I hope so, it is my car,” Eileen replied tartly, fluffing her hair as she knocked on the door.
Rob sat silently wondering what he was doing. He’d left the station open to anyone who wanted to pump their own gas and drive away. What in the world was I thinking, getting into a car with this girl? She wasn’t bad looking, she wasn’t beautiful, just a blond with blue eyes, but there was a fresh, wholesome quality about her. She had a nice profile. What if she was an ax murderer? Mother warned me about those types. What kind of job is a funeral planner? Yech! What a morbid profession.
Inside, Eileen was getting the news that the position was already filled. “But I drove all the way out here,” she protested weakly.
“Filled last week, actually, didn’t have time to pull the ad after we made the offer,” Mr. Burgess explained very calmly.
“But you still allowed me to set up the interview?” Eileen questioned.
“In case it didn’t work out, but it seems fine. She’s very qualified. Thank you for your time, Miss MacDonald,” Mr. Burgess reiterated, firmly shaking her hand, all but shutting the door on her. He switched on the porch light so she could find her way to her car in the dark. Eileen stumbled down the steps, almost falling as she grabbed the door handle to support herself.
“He filled the position last week, and he didn’t even have the courtesy to contact me,” Eileen cried, her face crumpling in anguish as she flopped into the passenger seat.
The mechanic started the car and drove slowly, crunching the stones beneath the tires. Driving back to the station, she cried, making her eyes red and swollen. He parked her car beside the old mulberry tree and the two of them just sat. He wasn’t sure what to do to help this damsel in distress and as she pointed out, it was her car. He didn’t know if he should stay or go; he was hesitant to know what to do.
He reached out to her, but pulled back regretfully, eyeing his greasy coverall. He didn’t want to get grease on her grey suit or her salmon colored blouse. She sobbed softly until she had cried it all out. Eileen sat silent for a long time afterwards.
“I guess—my—parents are right—I’m just not ready—to be on my—own,” Eileen hiccuped. Tears streaming down her face, the mechanic rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out a travel pack of Kleenex and shook one out. He handed it to her and she dried her eyes and blew her nose. He shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do; he decided on a subject change.
“Since we’re having this intimate moment, I guess we should introduce ourselves. My name is Rob. That’s not Robert, it’s Robin, and more than one man has gotten a black eye over that name. What’s your name?”
“Eileen MacDonald; my parents told me if I didn’t get this job, I have to come home and work in the factory. I needed this job badly. I didn’t want to ask my parents for any more money.” Eileen’s head sagged and tears threatened to flow again. “My roommate got married last month. She moved to Wisconsin. We split all the bills down the middle and then the company I worked for went belly up and they pulled out in the middle of the night. The employees didn’t even know they were out of a job until they showed up the next morning and the place was padlocked. Anyway, she said she would pay my share of the bills and when I got a job, I could repay her. Her name was Judy, Judy Weston. The wedding was beautiful. It should be, it cost enough.” Eileen looked at her benefactor who showed no sign of recognition.
“Anyway, once the bills started coming in, I realized the money I’d been giving her went to pay for the wedding and now I’m behind in everything including my share of the rent. I’m too ashamed to ask my parents for more money. To think I was envious of her wedding dress; it was so pretty. She stiffed me for everything, I paid for her wedding. She certainly out-manipulated me, I didn’t even realize it was happening.” The tears began afresh. Rob pretended not to notice. She stopped talking when she realized she was rambling.
“Sounds like she wasn’t your friend after all,” acknowledged Rob.
“We had some really good times together and my family really liked her,” explained Eileen gulping through her tears. “I realized after she left that all of our friends were her friends. They were all just pretending to be my friend because of her. I didn’t really know anyone there.”
“So what are you going to do now?” asked Rob, staring at her and wondering how to comfort her.
“I guess I’ll throw in the towel, go home and listen to I-told-you-so’s. The landlady told me if I paid the rent late again, she was going to lock the door and I wasn’t going to be able to get in or get my stuff until I paid it,” said Eileen, distressed. Rob opened the car door and got out. Eileen slid into the driver’s seat and shifted the car into drive. Rob reached through the open window and shifted the car back into park.
“Don’t go. Come into the station and have a cup of coffee. I made a fresh pot before we went on this wild goose chase. We can work this out.” Rob said kindly and offered his hand to help her out of the seat. At least he’s a gentleman, she thought.
“Thank you for all your help, but I’d better go home and start packing,” she responded regretfully. “The lease will be up on my apartment soon, my bills are stacking up, and without a job, well, you know. It’s baffling.” She heaved a huge sigh and blew her nose loudly. For a moment she had fanciful thoughts about the mechanic, but quickly rejected them. With a sigh, she leaned back in the seat, wondering how this could possibly turn around. It was the worst day of her life.
“Say, can you change a tire? Most girls can’t.” Rob looked resigned to that fact.
Eileen shook her head. “Well, anyway, I’m looking for someone part time,” Rob said hopefully, indicating the Help Wanted sign in the window. “It doesn’t pay much but I’ll throw in the back room. I’m looking for a bookkeeper, too. Any interest? I’m not any good at that at all,” he confessed.
“I had bookkeeping in school but I’ve only had a little experience with it. I’m sure if you show me what to do, if you give me a chance, I can try anyway,” Eileen pleaded wearily.
“Start in the morning? You want to see the back room?” Rob offered, opening the driver side door and getting out.
Eileen’s face fell when she entered the back room. Someone had actually lived there, she thought incredulously, staring at the battered chair and small table. She shuddered at the dirt. It would take a lot of cleaning to make it livable. She pictured her current apartment and what she’d just seen. There was the kitchen/bedroom/living room combination and the bathroom each with their own single, curtain-less, grimy window.
“The only person that lived there was a guy and he didn’t seem to mind,” Rob said, seeing her dismay. “The job pays $8.00/hour and it’s about 20 hours per week, and you can clean on your midday break. When does your rent need to be paid again?” She was desperate and Rob could see that. She had bills to pay and no job. She knew he was taking advantage of her desperation.
“Wednesday,” she replied feebly.
“Good, that gives you a week to get settled.” And so it was settled.
“I guess I’ll take it then. I’ll be here at 8:00 AM; and thank you for giving me a chance.” Fervently grateful, Eileen drove back to her apartment, thankful she had a job, such as it was.
She tried to think of a solution to the grimy back room that would soon be her home. She stepped into her dainty apartment, loving the way it looked. She was always proud to bring people there. Not that Eileen had met many people in town; she’d only been there a short time and was renting the apartment month to month. Besides, she had always had Judy to fall back on. Judy was the life of the party. If they got invited anywhere, it was Judy’s doing. She hadn’t had any luck finding a job and her parents had only given her one month to get back on her feet. They didn’t know she was behind on all her bills. Eileen sat down in a chair and put her face in her hands. Judy had taken all her furniture with her, leaving Eileen with the few things she got from her parents when she moved out. The loss was huge. Eileen looked around. Things were pretty bare looking. It was depressing.
You can’t go many go many places or do many things when you don’t have a job. If I just had a little more time, she fretted tiredly.
It was painted light green with white trim, had a modern kitchen, dining area, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. She had white curtains at the windows, pictures on the walls, plants, antique knickknacks that she wouldn’t even have room to unpack in the garage apartment. Although she had gotten some castoff furniture from her parents, she’d felt like she was moving up in the world. Now she was on her way down. What would her parents say about this change of affairs? It was like being in a bad dream and she was the star.
Lying awake in the soft feather bed (which was furnished with the apartment) she contemplated the back room. She didn’t even have her own bed to sleep on. Watching her alarm clock with the lighted dial, she finally fell asleep around 1:00 AM, but she still had no solution.
“It’s hopeless, I’m never going to find it,” she moaned. Feeling bewildered, she shifted the car into reverse and backed into a driveway. Turning around, Eileen headed for the nearest gas station to ask directions.
Misery engulfed her as she drove to the main road. Eileen was near to tears. Getting this job seemed like a dream. Not that working in a funeral home was a dream job. Just having a job was a dream. She looked down at her watch. 3:45 PM and her interview was at 4:00 PM. Eileen kept driving until she spied a gas station. Her ancient Chevy rattled and shuddered as she pulled into the illuminated station. She noticed a few straggly pansies planted in the dirt in front of the white painted concrete block building being watered by the rain. They weren’t mulched and needed fertilizer.
A grease-covered mechanic approached her car through the rain. “Fill her up?” he asked, smiling at her. Hmm, nice smile. Eileen gave him a quick appraisal. Seductive blue eyes, sun bleached hair, high cheekbones, hard, corded muscles, no wedding ring. Reaching for the hose, he asked again. “Fill her up?”
“Uh, no, just directions,” sighed Eileen. His welcoming smile was like a beacon of light against the darkness.
Pointing to the map, she indicated with her finger, “I need directions to the Charles Burgess Mortuary, because I have an interview in 15, no 10 minutes. If I don’t find it soon, I’m going to miss it. I’m frantic.”
“This map is 20 years old. You would never have found it. The old building burned down about 10 years ago. It’s been rebuilt. The Post Office kept the same address except it’s located in the opposite direction now.”
“Now, I have 5 minutes, if you keep talking, I’m going to miss it completely.” Eileen was flustered, face flushed red, opening and closing her hands. “Do you know how many applications I had to put in just to get this one interview?”
“In that case, slide over, and I’ll drive. Stop hyperventilating or I’ll get you a paper bag to breathe into.”
“Just drive!” Eileen commanded, sliding to the far side of the car at the same time.
Eileen’s car spun out of the gas station and headed in the opposite direction. They passed oak and pine forests. 1983 Natchez Drive was painted on a black mailbox. She saw a sign indicating the Charles Burgess Mortuary and they turned up a stone driveway on the right side of the road. The mechanic screeched to a halt in front of an imposing brick building with large white pillars.
“And a minute to spare,” he flashed his amazing smile again. It was like a hand squeezing her heart, giving her encouragement. He watched as Eileen bounded out of the car and up the stairs. Rob scrutinized her assets from behind. Nice ass, classy dresser, hair so straight, he bet she ironed it. He took a deep breath. Ah, Cachet, his favorite perfume; she smelled like a girl should.
“And a minute to spare,” he flashed his amazing smile again. It was like a hand squeezing her heart, giving her encouragement. He watched as Eileen bounded out of the car and up the stairs. Rob scrutinized her assets from behind. Nice ass, classy dresser, hair so straight, he bet she ironed it. He took a deep breath. Ah, Cachet, his favorite perfume, she smelled like a girl should.
“I’ll wait for you,” stated the mechanic.
“I hope so, it is my car,” Eileen replied tartly, fluffing her hair as she knocked on the door.
Rob sat silently wondering what he was doing. He’d left the station open to anyone who wanted to pump their own gas and drive away. What in the world was I thinking, getting into a car with this girl? She wasn’t bad looking, she wasn’t beautiful, just a blond with blue eyes, but there was a fresh, wholesome quality about her. She had a nice profile. What if she was an ax murderer? Mother warned me about those types. What kind of job is a funeral planner? Yech! What a morbid profession.
Inside, Eileen was getting the news that the position was already filled. “But I drove all the way out here,” she protested weakly.
“Filled last week, actually, didn’t have time to pull the ad after we made the offer,” Mr. Burgess explained very calmly.
“But you still allowed me to set up the interview?” Eileen questioned.
“In case it didn’t work out, but it seems fine. She’s very qualified. Thank you for your time, Miss MacDonald,” Mr. Burgess reiterated, firmly shaking her hand, all but shutting the door on her. He switched on the porch light so she could find her way to her car in the dark. Eileen stumbled down the steps, almost falling as she grabbed the door handle to support herself.
“He filled the position last week, and he didn’t even have the courtesy to contact me,” Eileen cried, her face crumpling in anguish as she flopped into the passenger seat.
The mechanic started the car and drove slowly, crunching the stones beneath the tires. Driving back to the station, she cried, making her eyes red and swollen. He parked her car beside the old mulberry tree and the two of them just sat. He wasn’t sure what to do to help this damsel in distress and as she pointed out, it was her car. He didn’t know if he should stay or go; he was hesitant to know what to do.
He reached out to her, but pulled back regretfully, eyeing his greasy coverall. He didn’t want to get grease on her grey suit or her salmon colored blouse. She sobbed softly until she had cried it all out. Eileen sat silent for a long time afterwards.
“I guess—my—parents are right—I’m just not ready—to be on my—own,” Eileen hiccuped. Tears streaming down her face, the mechanic rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out a travel pack of Kleenex and shook one out. He handed it to her and she dried her eyes and blew her nose. He shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do; he decided on a subject change.
“Since we’re having this intimate moment, I guess we should introduce ourselves. My name is Rob. That’s not Robert, it’s Robin, and more than one man has gotten a black eye over that name. What’s your name?”
“Eileen MacDonald; my parents told me if I didn’t get this job, I have to come home and work in the factory. I needed this job badly. I didn’t want to ask my parents for any more money.” Eileen’s head sagged and tears threatened to flow again. “My roommate got married last month. She moved to Wisconsin. We split all the bills down the middle and then the company I worked for went belly up and they pulled out in the middle of the night. The employees didn’t even know they were out of a job until they showed up the next morning and the place was padlocked. Anyway, she said she would pay my share of the bills and when I got a job, I could repay her. Her name was Judy, Judy Weston. The wedding was beautiful. It should be, it cost enough.” Eileen looked at her benefactor who showed no sign of recognition.
“Anyway, once the bills started coming in, I realized the money I’d been giving her went to pay for the wedding and now I’m behind in everything including my share of the rent. I’m too ashamed to ask my parents for more money. To think I was envious of her wedding dress; it was so pretty. She stiffed me for everything, I paid for her wedding. She certainly out-manipulated me, I didn’t even realize it was happening.” The tears began afresh. Rob pretended not to notice. She stopped talking when she realized she was rambling.
“Sounds like she wasn’t your friend after all,” acknowledged Rob.
“We had some really good times together and my family really liked her,” explained Eileen gulping through her tears. “I realized after she left that all of our friends were her friends. They were all just pretending to be my friend because of her. I didn’t really know anyone there.”
“So what are you going to do now?” asked Rob, staring at her and wondering how to comfort her.
“I guess I’ll throw in the towel, go home and listen to I-told-you-so’s. The landlady told me if I paid the rent late again, she was going to lock the door and I wasn’t going to be able to get in or get my stuff until I paid it,” said Eileen, distressed. Rob opened the car door and got out. Eileen slid into the driver’s seat and shifted the car into drive. Rob reached through the open window and shifted the car back into park.
“Don’t go. Come into the station and have a cup of coffee. I made a fresh pot before we went on this wild goose chase. We can work this out.” Rob said kindly and offered his hand to help her out of the seat. At least he’s a gentleman, she thought.
“Thank you for all your help, but I’d better go home and start packing,” she responded regretfully. “The lease will be up on my apartment soon, my bills are stacking up, and without a job, well, you know. It’s baffling.” She heaved a huge sigh and blew her nose loudly. For a moment she had fanciful thoughts about the mechanic, but quickly rejected them. With a sigh, she leaned back in the seat, wondering how this could possibly turn around. It was the worst day of her life.
“Say, can you change a tire? Most girls can’t.” Rob looked resigned to that fact.
Eileen shook her head. “Well, anyway, I’m looking for someone part time,” Rob said hopefully, indicating the Help Wanted sign in the window. “It doesn’t pay much but I’ll throw in the back room. I’m looking for a bookkeeper, too. Any interest? I’m not any good at that at all,” he confessed.
“I had bookkeeping in school but I’ve only had a little experience with it. I’m sure if you show me what to do, if you give me a chance, I can try anyway,” Eileen pleaded wearily.
“Start in the morning? You want to see the back room?” Rob offered, opening the driver side door and getting out.
Eileen’s face fell when she entered the back room. Someone had actually lived there, she thought incredulously, staring at the battered chair and small table. She shuddered at the dirt. It would take a lot of cleaning to make it livable. She pictured her current apartment and what she’d just seen. There was the kitchen/bedroom/living room combination and the bathroom each with their own single, curtain-less, grimy window.
“The only person that lived there was a guy and he didn’t seem to mind,” Rob said, seeing her dismay. “The job pays $8.00/hour and it’s about 20 hours per week, and you can clean on your midday break. When does your rent need to be paid again?” She was desperate and Rob could see that. She had bills to pay and no job. She knew he was taking advantage of her desperation.
“Wednesday,” she replied feebly.
“Good, that gives you a week to get settled.” And so it was settled.
“I guess I’ll take it then. I’ll be here at 8:00 AM; and thank you for giving me a chance.” Fervently grateful, Eileen drove back to her apartment, thankful she had a job, such as it was.
She tried to think of a solution to the grimy back room that would soon be her home. She stepped into her dainty apartment, loving the way it looked. She was always proud to bring people there. Not that Eileen had met many people in town; she’d only been there a short time and was renting the apartment month to month. Besides, she had always had Judy to fall back on. Judy was the life of the party. If they got invited anywhere, it was Judy’s doing. She hadn’t had any luck finding a job and her parents had only given her one month to get back on her feet. They didn’t know she was behind on all her bills. Eileen sat down in a chair and put her face in her hands. Judy had taken all her furniture with her, leaving Eileen with the few things she got from her parents when she moved out. The loss was huge. Eileen looked around. Things were pretty bare looking. It was depressing.
You can’t go many go many places or do many things when you don’t have a job. If I just had a little more time, she fretted tiredly.
It was painted light green with white trim, had a modern kitchen, dining area, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. She had white curtains at the windows, pictures on the walls, plants, antique knickknacks that she wouldn’t even have room to unpack in the garage apartment. Although she had gotten some castoff furniture from her parents, she’d felt like she was moving up in the world. Now she was on her way down. What would her parents say about this change of affairs? It was like being in a bad dream and she was the star.
Lying awake in the soft feather bed (which was furnished with the apartment) she contemplated the back room. She didn’t even have her own bed to sleep on. Watching her alarm clock with the lighted dial, she finally fell asleep around 1:00 AM, but she still had no solution.
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