Fiction logo

Allena Abigail Burkhardt: Part 5

Tea, television, and pictures of ants

By E.B. MahoneyPublished 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 9 min read
1
Allena Abigail Burkhardt: Part 5
Photo by Tamara Gore on Unsplash

Oscar and Allena convened in her dim little kitchen that afternoon. She was grateful, if not rather guilty, at having encroached on his weekend. She’d called him before driving home, having carefully extricated herself from the shrub. The call with Laylor had unsettled her and she wanted more insight into Laylor’s character. She needed someone else’s opinion of what had transposed that day, and Oscar was her colleague. Even if intermittent weekend work had been part of the deal, she’d never intended to call him in a state, without notice. Ever the image of calm under extreme pressure, Oscar had suggested he come over with Ben for a chat.

“I’ve only ever known Laylor to be a sensible woman,” Oscar carefully reassured, as Allena fidgeted by the boiling kettle.

“Yes, it’s just…” she trailed off. “There’s nothing I can really do, there’s no evidence that anything bad will happen… I just have a bad feeling.” Past experience told her that no matter how apparently ‘sensible’ someone was, they could still be capable of drastic things. And things that happened behind closed doors, family matters so often well hidden. And perhaps it was that; negative past experiences that wrapped her in a sense of dread. Oscar seemed to be at a loss of what to respond, so changed the topic.

“You look like you had a fight with a bush,” he stated. “What actually happened today?” Allena had carefully left out all dealings with her hiding place in her explanation of the exchange with her client.

“I wasn’t spoilt for choice with hiding places. Didn’t really have the opportunity to park nearby, would have been too obvious.” Allena fiddled with the handle of one of three mugs. Tea for Oscar and herself. Milo for Ben, who was happily drawing in the next room.

“So you had an altercation with a garden.”

“I hid in a bush, yes.” She scowled out the window briefly. The day remained resolutely bright, contrasting with her mood.

“All scraped up… You’re worse than Ben.” Allena had indeed ended up worse off for her encounter with the local plant life. Thin red grazes marked her cheek and forehead, and there had been more than a few leaves and twigs to clear from her beanie and inside her jacket, remarkably. The knees of her jeans were soil stained.

“Does it help if I say it gets worse with age?” she smirked.

“Don’t try that, you’re not a parent,” he shook his head slowly. “Your conjecture is useless.”

“But I’m speaking from personal experience,” her voice indignant. “I was a kid once.”

“A baby goat? That sounds about right.” Oscar opened the door of one of the cupboards above the counter to hide his grin.

“You know what I meant,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. Oscar actually snickered. Feeling a little better in spite of herself, she poured hot water into each of their respective mugs. “Thanks. For your reassurance about Laylor,” she said finally. Oscar smiled weakly. “It helps to have your perspective. As my partner, and Laylor’s friend.”

“If I’m your partner, does that mean I’m getting a raise?”

“No,” she raised an eyebrow. She was already regretting not saying ‘assistant,’ but it hadn’t felt right, with all that he inevitably contributed. “But you’ll be compensated for your unexpected weekend job.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Ben was keen to get out of the house anyway.” Nevertheless, Allena would make a point of paying Oscar for his time. “There was another birthday party. I didn’t want to commit to one this weekend and it wasn’t one of his friends, just a whole class invite. But Ben found out about it at school and got a bit upset he wasn’t going. I keep forgetting he’s at that age, now.” That reminded Allena of one of the briefer visitors to Jenny’s house that day. She was yet to tell Oscar about any of that side of things.

“Do you want to see the pictures from today?” She poured cows’ milk into Oscar and Ben’s mugs while her assistant continued to search the cupboard for biscuits other than gingernut.

“Sure.”

“It seems like Jenny might have quite an operation going.”

“Oh?” Oscar whipped out a packet of caramel crowns, triumphant. “Other than the Boutique Biscuits?”

“Does Ben want his Milo stirred in?”

“No, it’ll be fine as is. The more clumps the better.” Allena smiled, finding a clean teaspoon to go pop in the mug. Even if the hot water had dissolved most of the powdery substance already.

Oscar flicked through the photos she had taken—now safely on her laptop—as she wryly sipped tea. Ben was contented, printer paper and crayons a worthy distraction. Oscar hadn’t been as intrigued as she had to see the strange people who had come and gone from Jenny’s house.

“Hmm,” he said finally. Allena leant over.

“Know her?”

“That’s Elain, Winthropp, she was there with her two girls for Ben’s Birthday.” Ben didn’t so much as look up at the mention of his name. “She was one of what, four adults you met there?”

Allena frowned, trying to remember Ben’s party. The name rang a bell, but she’d never been one for names, or faces. An unfortunate trait in her line of work. “She was there today to pick up Jenny’s son.”

“Really?” Oscar unsuccessfully held in a snort. “I find that surprising. They don’t exactly get along. Although no one really does with Jenny.”

“Have you had any issues with her?” Allena lowered her voice, not sure if they should be discussing other adults in front of Ben.

“No, I haven’t actually,” he said. “Alex and Ben get along well. I’ve just noticed some things from time to time.” Allena sat up a little straighter. “Elain seemed pretty keen to talk to her when I saw her last – the birthday,” he clarified. “I was surprised she came, actually, it’s no secret that she’s been having financial troubles, Elain’s been made redundant at work. There was a whole uproar about it.” Scowling at the floor, a creeping suspicion wheedled its way into Allena’s mind.

Allena wasn’t sure if she should be treating Ben like a person who hadn’t signed a non-disclosure agreement or not. He seemed engaged enough in his drawing. She decided against airing further conjecture out loud all the same.

Whatever was going on with Jenny Taurini and Ted Bennett, it would have to wait until Monday. Allena wasn’t game enough to contact Laylor yet, regardless of her curiosity. Irrespective of the unsettling sensation in her gut.

Ben hopped up from the coffee table to present Allena with a piece of paper.

“Oh wow, thanks Ben,” she smiled at the black and brown sticks with legs, hovering over a green line of grass. “These ants are marvellous. This is going onto the fridge.” Ben seemed pleased at the appreciation for the masterpiece. “Have you caught any ants yet?”

“Not yet,” the boy huffed as he sat down to continue drawing. Allena raised an eyebrow as Oscar seemed only too smug at the current ant-less state of things. He coolly sipped his tea.

***

Allena leant into Jamie’s embrace, breathing in his familiar smell of fresh cotton and something citrussy left over from his body wash. Having had a lazy Sunday in each other’s company, they were now curled up on the couch. They’d made dinner and washed up earlier, contentedly settled down for an evening of mystery themed TV shows that ran one after another on Sunday and Tuesday nights. She didn’t mind the add breaks if it meant Jamie turning his full attention to her.

She made the fatal mistake of glancing over at the screen as the news came on. The volume turned down, the picturesque garden caught her eye.

Allena swore violently. Various service vehicles, mainly police, flashed up on screen, but there was no doubting where that house was. And the headline, ‘death’ featuring prominently in capital letters.

“Allena?” Jamie nervously touched her leg as she stared at the television, reaching for the remote to turn up the volume, but falling and hitting her knee on the coffee table in the process. She let out a grunt. “Do you need to make a phone call?” He suspected already. And indeed, she ought to call her contact in the police, Robert Farley. He was sure to be in the thick of this one, with the locality, or be in close association with someone who was. ‘Several individuals are assisting police in their investigation,’ was one line from the news story. ‘Treated as suspicious,’ was another.

“I should have called,” she snapped at the television. “I should have bloody called my client.” But even now. How could they be related? But she didn’t thoroughly believe in coincidence either.

“Are your ears burning?” Robert quipped upon answering her call.

“What makes you say that?” Let him explain. She didn’t need to go about throwing client names at him just yet.

“You’ve been mentioned as a possible witness by one of our suspects,” Robert stated. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to take in a long, deep breath. “You really like to put your foot in these things, don’t you Burkhardt?” So he was working the case.

“Hazard of the job,” Allena muttered. “We’ll see if I’m a witness. I might have some information though, let me know when you’re free.”

“I’ll accept that offer,” he responded. Allena turned away from her boyfriend who carefully watched her from his half-kneeling position on the couch. Allena kicked at a bit of fluff that stuck to the rug. “Seems like Ms Taurini had no shortage of enemies.”

“I could have told you that.” She turned back to meet Jamie's eye and he mouthed something and pointed to the kitchen. He'd put the kettle on. She gave a thin smile, squeezing his shoulder as she passed for the hallway leading to her bedroom, closing the door behind herself.

“Did you know about the little gardening project in the back room?” Farley edged. “Or the blackmail?” It seemed this ran a whole lot deeper than Allena could have guessed.

“No, but I suspected she was a loan shark. Blackmail doesn’t seem like too much of a leap of the imagination from there.” The day before, Allena had eventually asked Oscar if he knew of Jenny lending money to anyone, namely the circle of parents he frequented. He hadn’t been aware of anything but said he wouldn’t have been surprised either. Jenny’s husband was a notably wealthy businessman. And now, it seemed like she might have had her own lucrative money streams. Allena shivered. Her bedroom was cold compared to the light of the soft lamplight she had just left.

“Thought it might have been an accident when we were first called in,” Farley mused. “Tripped and hit her head on a great ugly bronze bull in the garden, found her lying next to it, in amongst the daisies. But we don't think so, anymore.”

For the 6th and final part of Allena Abigail Burkhardt, see the link below:

Or find part 1 here:

Table of Contents:

Mystery
1

About the Creator

E.B. Mahoney

Aspiring author, artist, and sleep deprived student. Based in Australia, E.B. Mahoney enjoys climbing trees, playing a real-world version of a fictional sport, and writing in the scant spare time she has left.

Instagram

Pax tecum Tom Bradbury

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.