Annie’s Song
Written by: Lizz Browne
Email comments to the author at welovedrseth@yahoo.com
You fill up my senses
Like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in spring time
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses
Come fill me again
Come, let me love you
Let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter
Let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you
Let me always be with you
Come, let me love you
Come love me again
Let me give my life to you
Come let me love you
Come love me again
You fill up my senses
Like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in spring time
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses
Come fill me again
*Words and Music by John Denver
Part 1
Internationally known mystery novelist J.B. Fletcher got out of her taxi and
looked around. She was in
Andrew came to the door and peered at Jessica through half-seeing eyes.
"Wait a minute, don't tell me! I'll figure out who you are."
"Andrew, it's Jessica." She replied.
"Hello, Aunt Jess," his daughter said from behind him. She stepped
around him and gave her aunt a hug.
"Now this is going to be confusing, with two Jessica's in the house."
Andrew complained.
"Then I'll use my middle name." the younger Jessica said.
"Julianne," Andrew said aloud, trying it out. "Couldn't you
shorten it at all?" He still had a horrible hangover from the night
before, and he wasn't in the mood to think to much.
She rolled her eyes. "Annie?" she said after a moment, "Or do
you want it shorter?"
"That's fine." He said glaring at her.
"I like Annie. I think I'll keep that permanently." She said.
"Do you want to get out of the doorway, so I can give Aunt Jess a
tour?"
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, "Go get me some gin while you're at
it." Then he wandered off, back to his threadbare and beer-stained
recliner.
"You want to even bother with a glass?" she asked him sarcastically.
He didn't hear her. She turned to Jessica. "You're going to have an
interesting week, I can tell you that much."
"Does he drink?" Jessica asked.
"Drinking is an understatement. He's an alcoholic. He and my mother both
need help, and lots of it."
"Why didn't you ever tall me in your letters?"
"I guess it's just a part of my life now. I don't really… well, I try not
to think about it."
"Annie, are you all right here?"
"I'm physically all right. But I was much happier at school in
It wasn't until later that night when they were all around the dinner table
that the topic of writing came up.
"Aunt Jessica, why is it that you continue writing so long after Uncle
Frank's death? I thought you just did that to work through your grief."
Rosemary asked.
"I enjoy it."
"So do I." Annie said.
"Yes, and from some of your pieces I've read you're quite good."
Jessica said.
"Oh, don't tell her that. We're trying to discourage her from
writing." Rosemary told her.
"Why would you do that?" Jessica asked.
"That isn't what we want her to do with her life." Andrew spoke up.
"Shouldn't it be her decision what she wants to do with her life?"
Jessica replied.
"We'd liker to make sure that she'll always have a nice, reliable
job…" Rosemary began.
"No, you want to dictate my life to me! That's so medieval." Annie
cut her off as she entered from the kitchen with coffee.
Andrew looked into his cup. "What's in it?"
"Coffee." Annie replied.
"I know that! I will ask you one more time. What is in my coffee?"
"Nothing! It's black!"
"Well go fix it the way I like it!" he ordered.
"I already brought you coffee! Do I have 'Cinderella' written across my
forehead?"
"Yes!" He snapped. "Now go get it!"
"Fine!" She went into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of bourbon and
slammed it down in front of him. The she turned on her heel and stalked out the
front door and into the darkness of the front lawn.
A few minutes later, Jessica found her outside, sitting on an old wooden swing
hanging from the single tree in their yard. She stood behind her and pushed the
swing gently.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Jessica asked.
Annie was quiet for a moment. "No," she said finally, "I'm
perfectly miserable. My parents are horrible, they could care less about me, we
fight constantly, and they want to run my life for me."
"Is there anything I can do?" Jessica asked.
"Send me to
They fell silent. Suddenly, Jessica said,
"What about
"What?"
"What if I sent you to
"I'd love to!" she exclaimed. "But my 'parents' would never let
me."
"I'll talk to them." She brought the swing to a stop and Annie jumped
off. Together, they reentered the house. Inside, they found Andrew and Rosemary
drinking their 'after-dinner' coffee in the living room.
"Might we talk to you for a few minutes?" Jessica asked, sitting down
on the sofa. Annie sat beside her.
"Go ahead," Rosemary said, her speech slightly slurred.
"Aunt Jess and I were talking about how miserable I am here, and how much
a I want to get away from here." Annie began.
Jessica picked up the story. "So I came up with a solution. How would you
feel about Annie coming to live with me for awhile, then if she liked it, she
could stay permanently?"
"Well, I'm not sure I like that, but let me think about it…" Rosemary
said.
"No! Absolutely not!" Andrew thundered.
"Why?" Annie spoke up, although she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Because…" he began but couldn't seem to come up with a reason.
"Because you'd lose your housekeeper, your slave, and someone you can
verbally abuse to make yourself feel important?" Annie cried, tears
threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Is that why?" She jumped up
and ran from the room.
Upstairs in her bedroom, she could hear her parents and Jessica talking. She
pulled her diary from underneath the mattress, and a pen from the bedside
table, and began to write.
I wish I had a father. I like to think my biological one doesn't exist. I want
someone who is sober more than five minutes a day, someone to talk to, someone
that I could trust. Someone I could cling to and lean on. Someone…who loves me.
Jessica poked her head in the door.
"Can I come in?"
Annie nodded, and Jessica came to sit on the edge of the bed. She had in her
hands, a small box.
"I don't know what made me bring this along. You know you were born
shortly before Frank died."
Annie nodded again and Jessica continued. "He wanted to give you this
himself, but he never got to. So he left it with me to give to you when I
thought the time was right. I think that time is now."
Annie opened the box and pulled out a beautiful silver necklace, and a
handwritten note that read:
My Dear Jessica, This necklace was my mother's and her mother's before her.
It's been a symbol of inner strength in our family for years. Never having a
daughter of my own, I wasn't sure who I would pass this down to. But when you
were born, and named for my Jessica, I knew. I'm leaving this with her to give
to you when the time is right, as I don't think I'll be able to myself.
Remember that no matter what happens, I love you. Love, Uncle Frank.
Annie looked up at Jessica with tears in her eyes. Then she raised her eyes
heavenward and said, "Thank you."
The next morning, Jessica came downstairs and found Annie in the kitchen making
breakfast. She immediately started grabbing things to help.
"Should we wake your parents for breakfast?" she asked.
"No, not yet. If the smell of bacon doesn't get them up, then we
will."
Andrew and Rosemary drifted into the kitchen a few minutes later. Annie handed
each of them a mug of black coffee.
"What's in it?" Andrew asked.
"Bourbon." Annie lied.
"Good girl." He said patting her head as he walked by. She slapped
his hand away and returned to the kitchen.
"Won't he taste that there isn't any liquor in that?" Jessica asked.
"I doubt if he can taste it at all." Annie replied.
As she was dishing out the eggs, there came a knock at the kitchen door.
Without looking up she called, "Come on in, Cheeky!"
The door opened and a girl Annie's age stepped in.
"Hey Barbie! Want to hear what's happening tonight?"
"Absolutely, but first, you have to meet my aunt. Aunt Jess, this is
Carrie McCallum. Cheeky, this is Jessica Fletcher." Cheeky opened her
mouth but Annie cut her off. "And I'm Annie from now on, to avoid
confusion."
"Nice to meet you," said Cheeky, and then turned to Annie. "How
is it you always seem to know what I'm going to say before I say it?"
"I'm psychic."
"Psycho!" she laughed.
"May I ask how you got the name, Cheeky?" Jessica asked, smiling.
"It's Jess…I mean, Annie's variation of chica. And she's Barbie
because…well I guess you can figure that out."
"I don't have all day to sit here and wait for my breakfast you
know!" Andrew bellowed from the dining room.
"Good morning, Mr. Fletcher!" Cheeky called. "You better get
moving Cinderella. Meet me at the diner in about an hour okay? Then I'll fill
you in on what's going on tonight."
"See you later, Cheeky!" Annie said grabbing her father's plate off
the counter.
"Bye, Barbie!" Cheeky cried then ran out the door.
An hour later, Annie was at the diner in her favourite booth, waiting for
Cheeky. She didn't have to wait long. Cheeky burst in a few minutes later.
"How's Napoleon now?" she asked.
"Drunk as…as…he usually is by this time. What's going on tonight?"
"We're going clubbing and shopping for older guys."
"Please, Cheeky."
"Okay, the band is playing at some rich kid's 18th birthday party. When he
called he was going crazy looking for someone who can make really good virgin
drinks, since his parents will be there and won't let him have alcohol. We told
him not to worry, we have the perfect bartender."
"Great! What time?"
"Party starts at nine."
"Okay, is he paying?" Annie asked.
"Of course!"
"I'll be at your house at 7:30, and I'll sleep over."
"Okay," said Cheeky. "Come to my house dressed, we'll have to
load the equipment and get over there so we can set up before it gets
dark."
"Ten-four. See you later!" Annie said, then got up and left the
diner.
When Annie arrived home, she went out to the patio and found her mother and
Jessica talking.
"Good morning. Mom, I've got a job tonight. I'm bartending some kid's
birthday party. It'll be late so I'll stay over at Cheeky's.
"Bartending?" Jessica asked.
"Well sort of. The kid's only 18, so I'll be doing virgin drinks instead
of real ones. It's fun though, and I get to hear Cheeky and the guys play.
She's the lead singer in a band that her ex-boyfriend and a bunch of his
friends formed. He left after they broke up, but she stayed and they're really
much better without him." Annie explained.
"Annie," Rosemary said, "I've given this a lot of thought and
I'll allow you to go live in
"Your best bet would be to catch him when he's in that stage just before
he passes out. He tends to be the most reasonable then." Annie said,
smiling at Jessica then going upstairs to check her e-mail.
A few hours later, Jessica went up to Annie's room. The door was part-way open,
and Jessica caught the last few seconds of Frank Sinatra's "
"Oh! You startled me! Come to see part of the other life that I
lead?" Annie said, spinning like a model. She was dressed in a short black
skirt, long-sleeved white peasant shirt, with a black choker, huge silver hoop
earrings, a red flower behind her ear, and strappy black stiletto heels.
"You certainly look different." Jessica said taking her in.
"This is where Cheeky got Barbie from," Annie said tugging on her
long blonde ponytail.
"Annie, I have good news. You're coming with me to
Annie stared at her with wide blue eyes. "For real? How did you…?"
"I guess your father still has a heart buried deep down. Your mother and I
managed to convince him that you would be better off in
"Oh, my God! That's fantastic!" She ran across the room and threw her
arms around Jessica. "Thank you." She said into her shoulder.
"I think you'll like Cabot Cove."
"I'm sure I will!" she glanced at the clock and gasped. "But I
gotta get over to Cheeky's! See you later!" She grabbed her duffel bag and
was gone.
"Come on, come on! You're late!" Cheeky yelled to Annie from her
front porch. Annie ran down the walk, her heels clacking loudly on the cement.
"I know I'm late, but I have the best news!"
"Tell me on the way there." Cheeky said throwing Annie's bag in the
mud room and hurrying down to the van loaded with band equipment.
"Hey guys!" Annie said as she settled in her seat. They all said
hello and then continued talking loudly. "Yo, y'all want to shut up a
minute? I have a story to tell."
"Uh-oh," Timothy, the lead guitarist said, "Is this a short
story or a novel?"
"Funny, Tim." She replied. "It's a short story."
"Well, carry on, love." The comment came form Ricky, the drummer. His
family had recently moved to
"It's common knowledge that I cannot stand my parents and they could care
less about me. Well, my Aunt Jessica is visiting and she came up with a
solution. I'm moving to
"What!?" everyone shouted. Eddie, the man behind the keyboard and the
steering wheel, missed a green light and was scolded by half a dozen car horns.
"You're leaving?" Cheeky shrieked.
"Relax, Cheeky. I'll still phone you, and write letters, and… you're going
back to school next semester, right?"
"Right." Cheeky had transferred out of her old school to the school
Annie had attended in
"We'll see. But the point is, Aunt Jess has an apartment in
"That's wonderful, love. It's a second chance at life for you." Ricky
said from behind her.
"Oh Annie, I hate you for leaving, but I'm so happy for you!" Cheeky
said.
"What? Who's Annie?" Tim asked as they pulled in the driveway of a
huge mansion.
"Me." Annie said getting out of the van. "Because Aunt Jessica
is here, Napoleon thought he would get confused. So I shortened Julianne and I
like it, so I'm keeping it.
The party went smoothly. Cheeky and the band were a huge hit and even managed
to book another gig. Cheeky and Annie collapsed into bed well after 3am.
The next morning when Annie arrived home, her father was, as usual, in the
living room watching television. Her mother was sleeping on the patio, but
Jessica was nowhere to be found. Annie went up to her room and spent the next
hour going through some old dance routines. She was reading on the patio when
Jessica arrived home.
"Oh, hello Annie." She said.
"Hi Aunt Jess. Not to be nosy, but where were you?"
"I went walking around the neighborhood and did a little sight seeing.
When did you get home?"
"A couple of hours ago."
"Annie, I was planning on leaving on Friday, but if you need more time to
get ready to leave…"
"I don't!" She exclaimed, and the both laughed.
Two days later, everyone gathered at the airport to say good-bye to Annie and
Jessica.
"Barbie, I'm going to miss you so much!" Cheeky exclaimed, hugging
her best friend.
Then Annie hugged each of the other band members. They had all exchanged
addresses the day before, and she had promised to write them all. Annie turned
to her parents, and Rosemary gave her a quick hug. It was time for Annie and
Jessica to leave. Andrew made no move to say good-bye, so Annie gave him a mock
salute and said with a sad smile,
"Good-bye Dad."
With that, she threw her friends a kiss and she and Jessica boarded their plane
for
Part 2
Cabot Cove,
When they stepped off the plane in
"Annie, this is Seth Hazlitt. Seth, this is my niece Annie." Jessica
said.
"Hello," Annie said smiling.
They collected their bags and on the ride to Cabot Cove, Jessica and Annie took
turns telling Seth what had led up to Annie coming to live with Jessica.
Upon entering Cabot Cove, Annie immediately fell in love with the little town.
She adored the cozy, homey feeling the town radiated, and how everyone knew
everyone else, and always had a smile on their face. Seth dropped them off with
the promise that he'd be back for dinner.
"Why don't you see if Mort and Adele want to come, also." Jessica
called after him. "Mort is our sheriff, and Adele is his wife. I think
you'd like both of them a lot." Jessica explained to Annie.
They went inside and Jessica showed Annie around, then left her in her room to
unpack.
Later that evening Annie, Jessica, Seth, and Mort were all gathered around the
table talking and laughing. Adele had already made plans to have dinner with
some of her friends. Annie and Mort had instantly clicked and she was fitting
in as if she had been there forever. Talk finally turned to the variety show
that was being planned. Mort was the head of the committee responsible for
putting it together. Jessica and Seth were also on the committee.
"What can you do Annie? Sing, dance, tell jokes?" Mort asked.
"None of the above," she replied smiling.
"But, I thought you were dancing in your room the other day, before you
went to Cheeky's." Jessica said, puzzled.
"I don't dance." Annie said softly, but firmly. Jessica let it go.
"That's too bad. I could use a few more acts." Mort said.
"Is there some other way that I could help?" Annie asked him.
"Well you could help me hang up advertisements in the morning, and I could
show you around town."
"Sounds like fun."
The next morning, Mort and Annie were walking around town talking about family.
"How come you never had children, Mort?" Annie asked him.
"Children didn't fit into our lifestyle. I kind of regret it now though. I
think I would have liked to have a daughter. And I'd want her to be something
like you."
Annie smiled and held up a nail for him to hammer the poster into the pole with.
"You know, you're very trusting to hold that while I hammer. How do you
know I won't hit your fingers?"
"I don't. And you're wrong. I'm not very trusting at all. But there's
something about you that makes me feel so safe." She replied. "Please
don't ask me to explain that."
"I won't." Changing the subject he said, "What do you think of
Cabot Cove?"
"I adore it. And..."
She was interrupted by a boy and girl her age coming up to them.
"Hi Sheriff." The girl said.
"Hi," The boy said to Annie. "You're Mrs. Fletcher's niece,
right?"
"Wow, word does travel fast. Yes, I'm Annie Fletcher."
"I'm Ian Dalton, and this is Emily Wilson."
"We're going to the beach. Would you like to come with us?" Emily
asked.
"Are you okay on your own?" Annie asked Mort.
He smiled. "I'm fine."
A few hours later Emily, Ian, and Annie burst through the doors of the
community center laughing hysterically, like best friends often do. They had
come to watch the rehearsal for the variety show. So far it was coming along
terribly. The comedian was forgetting punchlines, the singer's voice cracked on
every high note, and the juggler dropped a bowling pin on his foot.
Annie caught movement in the lobby out of the corner of her eye and turned to
see a women looking hopelessly lost. She quietly got up and went into the
lobby.
"Excuse me, can I help you?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm Joan Culpepper. I've just moved to Cabot Cove and I read about
this variety show. I worked as a professional ballerina in
"That's wonderful! He's desperate for more acts. Follow me."
They entered the auditorium and found Mort backstage in a chair, looking more
than a little stressed.
"Mort?" Annie said putting her hand on his shoulder. "What's
wrong?"
"I have three people with lousy acts that show up for rehearsal, and the
ones that don't show up aren't much better!"
"Well then, I have good news for you. This is Joan Culpepper. She's just
arrived in Cabot Cove and wants to try out for the show. She was a professional
ballerina in
"You were?" he asked Joan.
"Yes."
"Can you dance a little for me right now?"
"Oh, yes." Joan replied.
She took her place in the center of the stage and Mort and Annie stood in the pit.
Joan quickly went through a very beautiful routine. When she was finished, Mort
and Annie applauded along with Emily and Ian who were still sitting the back
row.
"That was great!" Mort said. "You're in!"
"Thank you! I'll go back home and start working on a routine for the
show." She said climbing down off the stage and exiting the auditorium.
Mort grabbed Annie and hugged her tightly. "You are a lifesaver. Thank
you."
"Anytime." She smiled up at him.
Later that evening, before her rehearsal, Joan was in the pharmacy looking for
some antacids. She was about to head for the cash register when she heard a
familiar voice. Her heart skipped a beat, and fear spread throughout her body.
She dropped her Tums and hastily made her way to the door, but it was too late.
He had seen her.
Joan fairly ran the whole way to the community center. With a sigh of relief,
she entered her makeshift dressing room. She hadn't been in there 30 seconds,
when there came a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock. It was only 7:45.
She wasn't due onstage for another fifteen minutes. She opened the door and
looked up at the man she thought she had left behind.
Jonathon Welby barged into the room. Joan closed the door and turned to face
his rage.
"What are you doing here Joan? Have you come to ruin my life again?"
he shouted at her.
"I came here to escape the big city, and retire in peace and quiet. And
for the record, I never ruined your life. You did that on your own. You should
have been more careful." She replied icily.
"Don't give me that! I know you engineered that accident! All because you
knew I was better than you! All because I would have been more famous than
you!"
"I did no such thing! It was an accident, nothing more!" she
shrieked.
Neither one heard the knock on the door.
"Oh, yeah, an accident! You were clever Joan. You convinced everyone else
that that's what it was. But not me! You never convinced me! I always
knew!"
"After all these years, you're still blaming other people for the downfall
of your career! It was your own fault! You should have been more careful!"
she repeated.
The door swung open and they both turned to stare at Annie.
"Sorry, Ms. Culpepper, but you're on in two minutes," she said, then
shut the door with a quiet click.
Both were silent a moment. Then Joan opened the door and said simply,
"Get out, Jonathon. Get out and don't ever come back."
"I'll go Joan. And I'll leave you with these three words: You'll get
yours." He said menacingly, then turned on his heel, and left before she
could respond.
* * *
Joan took her place onstage for what seemed like the millionth time in the past
half an hour. It was the day of the dress rehearsal and for some reason, she
could not get her routine right. After another failed attempt Mort called for a
ten minute break. Joan and the rest of the company went into the lobby for a
cup of coffee and brought it back to her dressing room. Jessica, Mort and
Annie, who had become his personal assistant, went backstage and found a bunch
of volunteers painting the walls.
"This day has gone from bad to worse!" Mort exclaimed in frustration,
sitting heavily on the steps leading to the stage. "My best act can no
longer get her routine right, and I specifically asked the painters to come
after the rehearsal!"
Annie, who had been watching Jessica chatting with Sarah Welby, one of the
volunteers, came to stand in front of him.
"A bad rehearsal means a good performance you know."
"Well then we're going to have a phenomenal performance."
"Exactly, so why don't you stop worrying?"
He held out his hand to her. "Come sit here, and put yourself in my
shoes." She did so. "Everything seems impossible from here." He
added.
"Well of course it does. You're basically sitting on the ground looking up
at everything. It's going to seem big and impossible." She stood up and
took his hands, pulling him to his feet and leading him up the steps to stand
on the stage. "There. It doesn't seem so bad from up here, does it?"
He put his arm around her shoulders. "Where would I be without you?"
"By now, an insane asylum."
"You read my mind!" he laughed.
"Does that surprise you?" she asked.
He thought for a moment. "No, actually it doesn't."
She slipped her arm around his waist. "Doesn't surprise me either."
Mort called Joan back out to the stage. She tried, and failed again.
"Let me finish my coffee and get my concentration back." She said,
and disappeared backstage.
She paced her dressing room, talking to herself, "Get a hold of yourself!
Just because he is here, and he knows what you did, doesn't mean that he has an
ounce of proof! Now, concentrate on dancing, get the routine right, and
tomorrow night you show him, and this whole town who the better dancer really
is!" Joan stopped pacing, quickly drank the last of her coffee and hurried
back onstage.
She was doing marvelous when suddenly she gagged and collapsed on the floor,
twitching horribly and gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Annie ran
to call an ambulance while Mort, Seth, and Jessica hurried onstage. By the time
Annie came back, Joan was dead. The rest of the performers sat frozen in their
seats, petrified by what they had just witnessed.
"This is more than just a bad rehearsal Annie," Mort said softly as
she came to stand beside him. The ambulance arrived and the paramedics took the
body to the morgue for Seth and the coroner to take a look at.
Mort, Jessica, and Annie went backstage to Joan's dressing room to see what
they could find. They turned up nothing out of the ordinary, just her clothes,
shoes, make-up, and her coffee cup with a little yellow smudge on it.
Later that night, Jessica and Annie were talking in front of the fire when the
door burst open and Seth entered. He looked worried.
"What's wrong Seth?" Jessica asked, moving her feet to make room for
him on the sofa.
He sat beside her. "I have never seen so much Cyanide in a person's blood
before."
"Cyanide?" Jessica and Annie said together.
"Yes, and that much of it would have to be deliberately planted."
Seth said.
"Then it was murder." Jessica said softly.
"Appears that way." He replied.
All was silent for a moment as they each reflected on this.
Jessica shuddered. "That poor woman. Cyanide poisoning is such a horrible
way to die."
"What does it do?" Annie asked, not sure she wanted to hear the
answer.
"Enough of it in a person's blood causes convulsions and respiratory
failure. The person would suffocate." Seth told her.
Annie didn't know what to say, and was grateful for the knock on the door. She
jumped up to answer it. Mort stepped in out of the wind.
"Sorry to drop in like this. Seth I saw your car outside and was wondering
if you found out what killed Joan Culpepper."
"Ayuh, I did. Sit down." Mort sat in Annie's chair, so she perched
herself on the arm next to him. "Cyanide, Mort."
"The coffee," Mort said. "I have to send her coffee cup to the
lab."
"I don't know if this means anything, but yesterday when I went into
Joan's dressing room, she and Jonathon Welby were in the middle of a screaming
match." Annie said.
"Jonathon Welby, the pharmacist?" Mort asked.
"Yes. I thought it was a little odd, since she'd only just moved
here." She replied.
"What were they fighting about?" Jessica asked.
"It was something about an accident and the downfall of his career. He
said that she convinced everyone else it was an accident, but he always knew
that it wasn't."
"It's someplace to start at least." Mort said. "Tomorrow
morning, we start digging into Jonathon Welby's background. I guess I should
head home now. Adele will be wondering where I am."
"I should get going too," Seth said kissing Jessica on the cheek, and
standing up.
* * *
Early the next morning, Mort headed down to the community center to prepare for
his rehearsal. The show had been postponed a few days, since the performers
were a little rattled by the events of the previous afternoon. As he stepped
into the lobby, he heard music coming from the auditorium. He peeked in the
door and to his surprise, saw Annie dancing a beautiful ballet routine to the
Mandy Moore song, "Only Hope." He watched in amazement until the end
of the song. When it was over, he applauded. Annie looked up, startled.
"How long have you been there?" She asked.
"Not long," He replied.
"It's not nice to sneak up on people." She said.
"I didn't mean to. That was beautiful, but I thought you didn't
dance."
"I used to. I don't anymore." She said, a touch of regret in her
voice.
Mort walked to the front of the auditorium and sat on the stage steps. He held
out his hand to her, and after a moment, she took it and sat beside him.
"I took dancing lessons for years." She began to explain; "I was
really good. When I was twelve, my dance class performed "One," from
A Chorus Line. My instructor gave me the solo routine. It was all going so
well, then in the middle of my solo...I fell. I've never danced in front of an
audience again." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
He pulled her close to him and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry." He
paused, "Please don't cry."
"What am I crying for anyway? Self pity?" she detached herself.
"C'mon, we have a variety show to organize."
"Annie, will you do something for me? Well, for both of us?" he asked
suddenly.
"What?" she asked, although she thought she could see it in his eyes.
"Will you dance at the show?"
She was right. "Mort, I can't..."
He stood up and pulled her to her feet. Guiding her up on stage he said,
"It doesn't seem so impossible from up here does it?"
She couldn't help but laugh. "I'll think about it." Changing the
subject she asked, "What have you found out about Jonathon Welby?"
"Turns out, he was a dancer in
"And his ballet company was the same that Joan Culpepper just retired
from?"
"How did you know that?" he asked.
"Lucky guess. The accident with his ankle must be what he was yelling at
her about."
Just then, people began to arrive for the rehearsal. The rest of the
conversation would have to wait.
Later that night, over dinner at Jessica's house, conversation revolved around
the murder.
"How hard would it be to find out if Joan and Jonathon were married?"
Annie asked.
"Not hard at all." Mort said. "In fact, that's what I was going
to do tomorrow. All I have to do is call
"And if they were? What then?" Seth asked.
"Then we question him about their life together, why they divorced, why
she came here, and hopefully we find something useful," Jessica said
getting up to clear away the dishes. Seth stood to help her. When they were
finished, they moved to the living room. Jessica sat on the couch, with Seth
close by her side. Mort sat in a chair, and Annie took her customary place at
his feet.
"So let's say they were married. Now, this is pure speculation mind you.
But if they were married, and she did engineer that accident..." Annie
began.
Seth picked it up. "Then he would have motive, and Annie saw him in Joan's
dressing room so he had a way to do it. He could easily get the cyanide. That
would make this whole thing very easy, and you my dear," he said turning
to Jessica, "wouldn't have to get yourself into trouble."
"It's too easy." Jessica said simply.
Mort groaned. "And pray tell, Mrs. F. why is that?"
"Because it's too easy to tie them together. It wouldn't be smart. He
should have at least hired a killer."
"Jessica, a murderer is not smart." Seth argued.
"What do you mean? A murderer has to be smart. How can they attempt to
plot the perfect murder if they aren't smart?"
"Has anyone ever committed the perfect murder, woman?"
Mort and Annie watched in amusement as they continued to banter back and forth.
"Well, no..." Jessica replied.
"Ha! You see!"
Jessica drew herself up as tall as she could, and glared at him. Then, without
warning, she grabbed the nearest throw pillow and whacked him with it. He
retaliated by reaching behind him for a pillow of his own. It wasn't long
before they were in the middle of a mad pillow fight. Jessica eventually
surrendered and leaned on Seth's shoulder, to catch her breath. He hugged her
to him, and they finally managed to stop laughing and concentrate again on the
dilemma they had been discussing.
Jessica looked up at him. "You're still wrong."
He sighed. "Then who killed Joan Culpepper?"
"I haven't the faintest idea."
"Yeah, me neither." Mort grumbled. "Well I better get going.
Adele will start to worry, and I have to get an early start looking into
Jonathon Welby's background." He stood up, and stretched. "Good
night." He leaned over to hug Annie.
"Good night Mort." Jessica said.
She looked up at Seth, who was staring off into space. "Seth?" When
he didn't respond, she reached up to touch his face.
"Good God you have cold hands, woman!" he exclaimed and they all
laughed.
"What are you thinking about?" Jessica asked him, sitting up. Seth
took both her hands in his, in an attempt to warm them up.
"I just can't help thinking that we are overlooking something completely
obvious," he said.
"Yeah, I had that same thought." Mort said. "Keep thinking, and
let me know if anything hits you."
"You mean besides a pillow?" Seth joked.
Mort smiled. "Yeah, besides a pillow." He grabbed his hat and headed
out the door.
"Do I detect wheels turning Jessica?" Seth asked after a few minutes
spent in silence.
"What if Jonathon Welby isn't the only person in Cabot Cove who knew Joan
Culpepper?"
"What do you mean, Aunt Jess?" Annie asked.
"I mean, what if someone else in town was from that ballet company and
knew Joan, and had a reason to kill her."
"Fabulous...but who?" Annie said.
* * *
"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Sarah Welby asked her husband.
"Joan, what else?" he answered and continued to stare into the fire.
"Why are you so worried about her?"
"It's only a matter of time before Metzger finds out we were married, and
that we didn't exactly part the closest of friends."
"Lots of people have nasty divorces. I mean, you didn't kill her did
you?"
"No."
"Then you have no reason to be worried."
"But people are going to think I did."
"Well if you keep looking so guilty, of course they're going to think you
did," she snapped. He looked up at her, wondering what had possessed her
to turn on him.
"I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to yell. I just don't want to see you
so stressed about all of this," she said softly.
* * *
"All right! So they were married. And they were divorced," Andy said,
reading the words on his computer screen to Mort and Annie.
"Why?" Annie asked.
"Why what?" asked Mort.
"Why did they divorce?"
"We could ask him." Andy said.
"Would he give you a straight answer?"
"All we can do is ask." Mort told her.
Mort and Annie set off to talk to Jonathon Welby. Sarah Welby answered the
door.
"Can I help you Sheriff?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm looking for your husband. May we speak with him?"
"Speak with him about what?"
"His ex-wife."
Sarah decided to play dumb, and see how much they knew. "Ex-wife? Jonathon
doesn't have an ex-wife."
"I'm afraid he does, ma'am. You didn't know?"
"Why, no! No I didn't! Who is this woman?"
"Joan Culpepper." Mort said.
"Oh, my goodness! Isn't she the dancer who just died?"
"I'm afraid so." Mort told her, "Now may I please speak to you
husband?"
"Yes, of course, come in!"
* * *
"He beat around the bush a little, but eventually told us that he was
married to Joan, she did rig an "accident," he did go to see her the
night before she died but he swears he didn't kill her." Mort said. Mort
and Annie we telling Jessica and Seth about their visit to Jonathon Welby's
house that afternoon.
"If he didn't kill her, who did?" Seth asked.
"Mort did you get the report back on the coffee cup?" Jessica asked.
"Yeah, it's right here. The lab found traces of cyanide in the cup, but
the only fingerprints on it were hers. And there was a little smudge of yellow
paint." He replied.
"That doesn't help much, does it?" Annie asked.
"No," Mort sighed.
Seth arrived for dinner a little early that night, and found Jessica and Annie
sitting at the table with a little bottle of nail polish between them.
"What on Earth are you doing?" he asked, watching Jessica paint
Annie's nail with a tiny little brush.
"Aunt Jess is helping me, because I can't do my left hand by myself."
Annie replied, smiling at the expression on his face.
"There." Jessica said handing the brush to Annie so she could do her
right hand.
"Thank you." She said.
Seth sat down in the chair that Jessica had vacated to tend to dinner and
watched Annie. She looked up at him, amused.
"Want me to do yours?" she teased.
"No!" he exclaimed, and Jessica and Annie laughed.
Annie finished the final nail and waved her hand to let the nails dry faster.
She wasn't paying attention though, and accidentally hit the bottle, toppling
it and spilling nail polish across the table.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed and jumped up to get paper towels. Jessica
was looking at the bright green spot on the table with a faraway look in her eyes.
"It'll come right off, Aunt Jess." Annie said.
Jessica shook her head and Seth said, "I know that look. You've just
figured it all out haven't you, dear?"
Jessica nodded. "We have to talk to Mort."
"We? Jessica, would you mind filling us in on this?" Seth asked.
"Of course, I'll explain on the way." She turned off the stove, and
grabbed Seth's hand, pulling him out of his chair and towards the door. Annie
trailed behind.
Mort, Jessica, Seth and Annie walked up the path to Jonathon and Sarah Welby's
front door. Jonathon answered it.
"Have you come to talk to me again, Sheriff? I swear I told you everything
I know."
"Actually, Mr. Welby, we'd like to speak with your wife." Jessica
spoke up.
"Oh, come in then." He held the door open for them.
"Sarah!" he called.
Sarah Welby appeared at the top of the stairs. "What is it, dear?"
"The Sheriff wants to talk to you." He told her, and she hurried down
the stairs.
"We just have one question for you, Mrs. Welby." Mort said and looked
to Jessica.
"Why did you kill Joan Culpepper?" Jessica asked her.
"What are you talking about? I didn't even know the woman!" she
cried.
"That's not true. You were a dancer too, in the same ballet company as
your husband and Ms. Culpepper. The Sheriff checked it out."
"All right," Sarah said coldly, "So I knew her, and yes, I hated
her, but I didn't kill her!"
"I'm afraid that isn't true either. You were scared that Joan was going to
ruin your lives again, so you got some cyanide, using your husband's position
as a pharmacist to your advantage. Then when Joan was onstage, you took a break
from painting the hall, and dissolved it into her coffee cup. It was the smudge
of yellow paint on the cup that gave it away. I didn't pay attention to it at
the time, but when Annie knocked over the bottle of nail polish this evening, I
remembered, and it all came together."
Sarah Welby seemed to literally collapse in on herself. "Yes, I did it. I
hated her for ruining our lives in
The next night, Mort, Seth and Jessica sat in the front row of the auditorium,
watching the variety show. Somehow, the performers had managed to pull it all
together and the show was going smoothly. Mort glanced at the empty seat beside
him. Annie had gotten up about half-way through the show and she hadn't
returned. Jessica leaned over and whispered, "She probably met up with her
friends."
Mort nodded and turned back to the person on the stage. According to his
program, this was the last act of the evening. When the singer finished, he
applauded and then started to stand up to give the final thank-you speech that
would conclude the evening. However, Jessica held him back and got up to stand
on the stage.
"What is she doing?" he asked Seth. Seth just smiled.
"I know that your programs tell you the show is over, however, we have one
more act that was left out. May I present, Miss Annie Fletcher." Jessica
said smiling.
Annie entered down left, wearing a chorus girl's costume as the music began.
Mort recognized it as "One" from A Chorus Line. Annie danced the
routine she hadn't done in nearly five years, flawlessly. When the last strains
of music died away and she held her final pose the audience burst into applause
giving Annie the first and only standing ovation of the night.
After that she disappeared backstage, and people began to file out of the
auditorium. The performers changed back into street clothes and went out to
celebrate with their friends. Mort was the last to leave. He locked the
community center and turned to find Annie sitting on the front steps, lost in
thought.
"Any room for another person?" he asked.
She looked up. "You? Always." She told him, sliding over on the step.
He sat down beside her.
"That was amazing." He said. "I knew you could do it."
"I want to thank you, for believing in me, and giving me the courage to
get back up there."
"I'll always believe in you," he said hugging her tightly. Annie
rested her head on his shoulder and for the first time in her life, she felt
she was exactly where she belonged. They sat in silence for a long moment, then
Mort began humming softly. Annie looked up at him, at once recognizing the
familiar John Denver tune.
"Isn't that…?" she asked.
Mort nodded. "Annie's Song."