Under the Influence (Cordelia Corbett Mysteries Book 1)

Book summary

When Cordelia Corbett returns to her New Jersey hometown and her job at Kohr’s Frozen Custard, she’s thrust into a murder mystery on the boardwalk. With help from a sharp-witted neighbor and a charming but infuriating stranger, Cordelia must navigate budding romance and puzzling clues to uncover the truth.

Excerpt from Under the Influence (Cordelia Corbett Mysteries Book 1)

May 2021

“I’m not going in,” I muttered under my breath to no one in particular as I stood momentarily paralyzed outside of St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church in Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey. I’d recently learned from the Borough of Point Pleasant Beach’s website their tagline was, A Historic Past and a Vibrant Future. I chuckled to myself, “A vibrant future indeed!” remembering Grace and Frankie’s Adult-oriented company name on my favorite Netflix show to binge-watch when I had nothing else to do, which these days seemed to be most of the time.

Suddenly, spanked out of my daydream, my older sister Katie had sneaked up behind me, her auburn hair identical to mine shining in the sun. “Come on, Cord; you can’t stand out here all day. You know what Gram would have said.”

We both recited it together, “Time’s a-wastin’, no time for pastin’.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked. I wiped a sudden tear from my eye. “Now, we can’t even ask her.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. She made it up as she went along, like pretty much everything she said and did. She was an amazing lady. Now, let’s go celebrate her life.” She motioned behind her. “Come on, guys.” Erin, four and Shannon, two obeyed immediately, followed by her downtrodden husband Jack. She snapped the whip. “Come on, Jack, we want a good seat.”

He gathered up the girls. “Yes, my love. We’re coming.”

I felt sorry for him, such a nice guy but no match for Katie. No man seemed to be a match for Katie.

Three rows from the front, I spotted Lily, my younger sister, her husband Rory, and their toddlers, Finn, three and Dylan, almost two. They had their hands full. Lily mouthed, “Help,” as we approached their pew. Collin ran from one end of the pew to the other. Finn attempted to vault over the back of it. Rory nearly allowed him to, seconds before I grabbed the boy.

The chapel pews were nearly full, and we would have been out of luck had Lily not saved the whole row. I tried not to stare at the casket where Catherine Carrie McDougal Corbett was laid out. The lighting made her look so angelic; I thought she might rise and fly among us at any point.

I glanced down slightly to see my parents Liam and Orania ‘Rani’ Corbett in the front row. Their heads appeared to be bowed in prayer, but odds were they were discussing what they’d be serving when everyone came to the house after the service. My dad wasn’t much for sentimentality. Besides, my Gram had finally succumbed after suffering from lung cancer for five years, so it seemed as much a relief as a shock to most of the family. Unfortunately for me, I sat firmly in the camp who thought she’d never die.

***

By ‘the house,’ I hadn’t meant their house in New Rochelle, New York, where we all grew up, trying to replicate the Dick Van Dyke Show in the 1960’s videos my dad ordered on DVD from God knows where, but my Gram’s house at 105 Trenton Avenue in Point Pleasant Beach. It was a hundred-year-old five-bedroom, three-bath bungalow, two blocks from the beach, backing up to Little Silver Lake. One of my earliest memories is sitting in the backyard with my Grampa, dangling our feet in the water, fishing for nothing.

It felt strange with my parents in charge at Gram’s house, because that was never allowed while she lived. She’d be shooing them out of the kitchen, reminding them that her grandparents built this house, the first generation from Galway, Ireland. They would come back from the dead if they messed with her. I smiled at the notion that my Gram brought me up, never to forget I had the heart and soul of a Galway girl. I reckoned I never would.

***

I wondered how long I had been daydreaming when I heard my dad finish his sentence with “…the reading of her last will and testament.”

Lily plunked down next to me on the floor within a couple of seconds. She chuckled. “They never did have enough chairs in this place. And Gram always said…. We repeated it together, “Those closest to the floor can sit on it.”

She threw her arm around me. “How come you haven’t come by in a while? I miss you, girl.”

I smiled. “Well, the last time I did, it took me three weeks to get all the Play Dough out of my hair.”

She hit my arm. “You lie so bad. That never takes me more than three days.” She realized, “It’s that guy. Didn’t he dump you?”

I nodded. “Yes, Corbin.”

She shook it off. “Aw, he had a stupid name anyway. Besides, he wasn’t your type. You need to find someone who adores you, not someone who’s too busy to take you to lunch because he’s on the squash court with his accountant.” She thought of something else. “So, what are you doing about your apartment? Doesn’t your lease run out next month?”

I groaned. “Yes, and it’s driving me crazy. I love living in the Village, but what’s the point now that I lost my job at Goldman Sachs?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m thinking about a career move. I want to start my own company.”

She nearly jumped off the floor. “That’s so great! I’m happy to hear you want to get off Wall Street. You were never suited to that. What do you want to do?”

I scratched my head as I tried to come up with something clever. “Um, something un-Wall Streetish.”

Lily hugged me. “I’m worried about you, Cord. I think you are depressed.”

I defended myself. “Well, of course I’m depressed. Gram just died. Isn’t that one of the stages of grieving?”

Katie sat on my other side, ignoring the fact that Lily and I were having a moment. Subtlety not being her best quality, she whispered loudly, "So, what do you think the big secret is with this will reading? Doesn’t she just sell the house, and we divide the money equally? I figure it’s worth about a million and a half. And don’t you think Mom and Dad should be considered one household like the rest of us?”

I thought about it. “Oh, I don’t know, Kate. I thought that since they are the next generation, they will inherit whatever there is, and maybe we’ll inherit the leftovers when they die.”

She considered that concept. “No. What’s the point of that? They might live another thirty years. They’re barely sixty. Dad can still run five miles a day when he wants to. He’s far too healthy.”

Lily and I stared at her.

Finally, my mom and dad came out of the kitchen, which sat by itself, segregated in the rear of the house with the living room in the front, typical of a turn-of-the-century bungalow. If they knew what Gram had written in the document, they weren’t giving it away. They stood by the natural stone fireplace and called everyone to their attention. Looking around, I remembered how dark this living room used to be when it was all-natural wood, but Gram had it all updated when Grampa died, having it sheet-rocked and painting most of it white, bringing it into this century. Had I owned this house, I would have removed the wall between the kitchen and the living room, making it one huge space on the first floor, but what did I know?

Before starting, my dad waited for everyone to quiet down. Several of my aunts, uncles, and cousins were there, so probably thirty people were waiting for the outcome of the reading. I seemed to be the only one with little interest. After all the build-up, I figured my mom and dad would get anything significant.

Dad loved the stage and seemed to relish the moment. “I’d like to thank you all for coming today. As you may know, my mother was very specific in her wishes that no one is sad in the event of her death. I know this is a difficult task for many of us, but we continue to try.”

He pulled a document from a file folder. “There is one particular section that she requested I read for the first time when we are all together, so I am doing as she wished.” He looked up and smiled. “Or I know she will come back and make my life miserable.”

My mom said, “Get on with it, Liam.”

He started reading. “My loving family, if this is being read to you by Liam, then I have finally passed. First, let me tell you that I loved you all dearly, and I will miss each and every one of you, especially you, my darling son. I look forward to the day we meet again in heaven.”

His voice cracked, and he wiped a tear from his eye.

He waited a few seconds to compose himself, then continued. “As most of you know, I am a huge proponent of housing, and I have spent much of my life fighting homelessness. It is very important to me that my close heirs become homeowners, so I have decided to contribute in this way. If any of my grandchildren are not homeowners at the point that I pass, I am passing the deed and ownership of this property on to them. There is only one condition. They must live in this house and agree never to sell it. They must then agree to make the same stipulation in their will.”

He paused and looked around the room. No one said a word.

He continued. “In the event that all of the grandchildren are already homeowners, then the property will be sold, and the proceeds donated to sheltertheworld.org. If multiple grandchildren do not own a house, they may share the house until the point that one remaining is the sole owner, or they may share for life, but it may not be sold. The rest of the document may be read in private and shared later. There is nothing unusual in it.”

He stopped and asked, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Katie asked, “Does anyone have a lighter?”

My mom jumped in immediately. “No, we don’t have a lighter, and burning the will isn’t going to solve anything. The attorney has copies.”

Katie looked serious. “I’m not talking about for the will. I’m talking about the house. There’s still time to get the insurance money. At that point, the house is a moot issue.”

Lily raised her hand. Dad pointed at her, ignoring Katie’s question completely. She asked, “Can this will be contested? I’m not sure she was of sound mind when she did this.”

Katie spoke again. “How can you two be so cool? You’re impacted more than we are. You were her immediate heirs. Doesn’t this tick you off in the least?”

My dad spoke quietly. “We knew what she’d put in there all along. We had that conversation many times. Mom’s death was never a part of our retirement plan. We knew she would never want the house sold, and we had no desire to live here.” Then he turned to me. “Sweetheart, you’re the only daughter we haven’t heard from. I’d love to hear your reaction.”