Escaped in a Casket

By Tony R Morrow

This 318-page thriller starts off in California with the unexpected death of Maria which leads her three daughters to search for clues to their mother's secret past life in Mexico. They put the pieces of her past together only to find out they too unknowingly took part in her escape. The oldest daughter, Rosemary finds herself in a dangerous marriage and hides out from her husband who has sent a hitman after her and her two sisters. You will be on the edge of your seat throughout this thrilling suspense novel and be shocked at the cliffhanger ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tony R Morrow
• Release date: Apr 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201159375

Book preview

Chapter 1

Began at the End

Her backdoor key ring had a colorful plastic donut hanging off it. This was appropriate since it was one of Martha’s favorite food groups, although a forbidden food group with Martha’s diabetes.

Pushing the door open and shoved her suitcase inside with a little nudge from her foot. The luggage rolled across the tile floor with a thump thump, thump thump as it hit each dip in the tile grout.

Without stopping, Martha dropped the bag of sugar-free treats on the kitchen counter and yelled out Hello, is anyone home? then proceeded to roll her luggage through the hallway headed towards the guest bedroom.

Out of the corner of her eye, something oddly out of place caught her attention. It was a familiar house slipper laying on its side, just inside the door of the laundry room. The odd thing was, it still had a foot in it, and the foot was as white as a bone china teacup.

Stopping her in her tracks. Martha knew this wasn’t good. Kneeling down while hanging onto the wooden door frame to steady herself as she reached over to touch the white lifeless foot, it was cold.

Recoiling her arm in shock and cradling her hands up close to her chest. Her body fell back against the hallway wall and slowly sank to the floor.

The house was silent, all she could hear was the pounding of the blood as it rushed past her eardrums and up to her numb brain.

She had to think about what to do next, her mind being cluttered with a million tangled thoughts, but first, she had to get to a phone, call 911 to report the dead body, then she would have to explain why she was inside a house that didn’t belong to her with a dead body.

Earlier That Morning

Martha’s big Lincoln was a beast of a car, but it rode like floating on a cloud. Martha and Beth rode to work together every day but this day was different, it was Martha’s long weekend off. She would drop Beth off at work first before making the long five-hour drive from L.A. to Monterey Bay to meet up with Maria for their once-a-month weekend together.

It generally included a few gossip-filled lunches, then turned into a relaxing weekend together, Cooking, watching old movies, and talking about their kids.

Maria, Beth's mother, had helped Beth get the job there with Martha at The Family Law Center once she passed the bar exam a few years ago.

They made a good pair, Martha helped Beth learn the ins and outs of the law center and Beth helped Martha with her loneliness after the death of her husband.

Martha dropped Beth off at work then once she was out of the heavy L.A. traffic she made a phone call to Maria.

Hey, it’s just me, I am on my way and should be there in four or five hours. I just dropped off Beth at work and I’ve made my way on highway 5.

Waiting for Maria’s response, seemed to take a long time.

Well, I still have a few things to do around here at the house, but as soon as you get here, we can go to lunch. I found this new little cafe right down the street.

Martha could tell Maria was busy doing something. The rustling sound on the phone gave her away.

Sounds great, so I’ll see you when I get there. Oh, I stopped and got us some treats for tonight's movie so don’t bother fixing anything.

Ok, love you and I’ll see you soon.

Maria tucked the phone inside her pocket as she walked down the hall. Pulling out the office chair at her small desk in the laundry room. Gently lowering herself into a comfortable setting position.

She’d always liked working there. It was cozy, private, and no one in the family ever came there to look for her; they would just step into the kitchen and yell out Mom! whenever she was needed.

Thinking about her three girls when they were small as she fingered through the childishly decorated pencil can, searching for her favorite pen. The pencil holder had been made by one of the girls in grade school many years ago.

It was a tin can decorated with popsicle sticks glued around the can, then painted with sparkling bits of glitter; to this day it made her smile whenever she saw it.

Opening her journal to the last entry, she noticed the pen she had so carefully chosen just moments ago slipped from her hand. She watched as it seemed to slowly float onto the floor in slow motion.

As if on cue, feeling off-balance and awkwardly leaning over. Her head down, arms limp at her side not being able to catch herself as she tumbled over.

In mid-air, her vision folded inward until the world around her became void of light. Even the simplest thoughts in her mind began to fade, then shut down as the searing pain in her head quickly faded too.

It all happened so fast in the end. Her lifeless body lay on the cold tile floor. She felt nothing, saw nothing, and heard nothing as the world around her ended.

Her death would start the long line of dominos to fall. Each represented a lie she’d told. One by one the lies would be revealed. Their daring escape in a casket, their real names, and the foreign country in which they came from.

She’d been stacking up the lies and secrets for years. All the false stories she so skillfully laid out for her friends and family; each of those stories had taken careful planning and skill to remember all the details of each of them.

It was crazy, but in the end, it would be her own written words from her journals that would lay out the real truth about what happened thirty years ago to her and the two older girls Rosemary and Beth.

BETH

Beth got the dreaded call from Martha later that day; After she answered the phone the last thing Beth remembered hearing was Martha’s voice, but couldn’t comprehend what she had said, her brain wouldn’t allow it. She automatically compensated for the shocking news and let her go to a safer place in the back of her mind and retreated there until she felt a gentle hand being placed on her shoulder. A soft and gentle voice said, You can put the phone down now.

It was Jenny, Martha’s assistant there at the law center. She had received the call a few moments earlier from Martha and was told the news.

Martha’s voice was somber and cracked as she spoke to Jenny over the phone.

Maria’s dead, they think it was an aneurysm. I’m up here at the house with the EMTs, waiting for the coroner to arrive. Transfer this call over to Beth, then go into Beth’s office once she answers the phone. Be strong for her and do whatever you can to help.

Stunned, Jenny slowly laid the receiver down and looked around the waiting room to make sure Beth didn’t have a client waiting to see her and was alone in her office.

Jenny then transferred the call over to Beth’s office. Standing quietly leaning against the door until she was sure Beth got the sad news of her mother’s passing.

SARA

Sara was tired after another long 18-hour shift at the hospital and was glad it was finally over.

The thoughts of the short 15-minute walk home gave her a little pick-me-up as she strolled through the familiar neighborhood.

She began to take notice of the older homes in the neighborhood as she strolled along. They had beautiful hanging baskets of flowers dangling from their porches that weren’t there the morning before.

Once she turned the corner and headed down her street, there it was. The same type of floral basket hanging from her porch as well.

Reaching her front door, she set her backpack down to search inside the basket of flowers looking for a card of some kind.

Who hung this here? She whispered under her breath. Cautiously glancing around to see if someone was secretly watching her get her reaction to the gift basket of flowers.

Nothing. disappointed by not finding a card or at least a florist’s name. Her thoughts soon turned back to opening her apartment door.

Digging through her purse looking for her keys. She unlocked the front door. The roar of an engine coming from behind her made her turn around as an old red truck pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building.

It was Mr. Hernandez, her maintenance man/gardener. His services came along with the triplex she’d recently moved into, but he also helped out some of the older ladies in the neighborhood. Sara was one of his favorite clients. He would make it a point to stop by often to check on her.

Hello there, I bet you’re the one who placed all the beautiful baskets on our porches aren’t you?

Mr. Hernandez smiled and gave her a wink.

I thought the neighborhood could use a little sprucing up with some flowers now that it’s spring. He fussed with the basket. Picking off a few deadheads and curled-up brown leaves as they talked.

I stopped by to see if you could use this old bike I have here in the back of my truck.

Walking over to the bed of the truck. He removed a tarp covering up the antique bike. Waving his hand. Prompting her to come to take a look.

Oh my goodness, I’d love to have a bike. I don’t have transportation other than my old tired feet, looking down at her well-worn shoes. The ones she’d been wearing since 2 o’clock the day before.

Let me get it out of the truck first so you can get a better look at it before you say yes. Maneuvering the bike carefully out of the truck. He began to explain.

It was a gift to me many years ago from a good friend of mine. The story goes, my friend bought the bike for his son Juan, but Juan didn’t use it much as you can tell. Once Juan left for college my friend put the bike in his barn where it stayed until he gave it to me. He watched Sara’s face closely as she ran her hand over the fenders and the handlebars.

"The bike looks new, doesn’t it? admiring its pristine antique finish.

I’ll use it to ride back and forth to work every day. Oh, I can add a basket to the handlebars and buy a few more groceries.  Rattling off her thoughts.

Mr. Hernandez was happy she liked the bike and wanted to keep it. It’s yours then, that’s if you want it.

Sara hugged Mr. Hernandez around the waist and wanted to kiss him on the cheek but thought her reaction might be a bit too much.

I’ll take good care of it I promise and if you ever need it back you can come get it anytime you want. 

Go ahead, get on it, and try it out. Ride it down the block and back to see if I need to adjust the seat. He watched her ride off with tears welling up in his eyes. Under his breath, he said, It’s finally where it belongs, to its rightful owner. knowing one day she would find out who Juan was, the bike's original owner.

Once she entered her apartment. The phone ringing in the bottom of her bag was giving her a slight feeling of panic as she dug around to find the elusive phone. Answering it with one hand then set her backpack down on the tile floor just inside her apartment door. All while trying to get the bike to lean up against the hallway wall. Doing these few simple tasks at the same time proved to be difficult.

Still somewhat frazzled, she answered the phone. Hello, this is Dr. Sara Cortez. She enjoyed saying this, after all, it had taken her over 12 years to get where she was in life.

Sara it’s Beth, I have some dreadful news are you setting down? Beth spoke in a tearful and broken voice. This was a call no one ever wanted to get.

Sara fell back onto the floor and sobbed as she heard the news of the sudden death of their mother Maria.

ROSEMARY

Just inside the front door of Rosemary’s home in San Francisco, her husband Tom frantically paced back and forth in the hallway like a caged lion waiting for the right moment to pounce on its prey. This type of behavior from Tom was common, but now he stood between Rosemary and the door where she needed to make her final exit.

Turning slightly sideways as she passed by him. She didn’t hesitate or change her stride as she passed, wanting no trouble from Tom before she left the house that day. All she wanted was to get out the door unharmed and all in one piece.

In a flash he twirled around and grabbed her by the neck with such power and in one continuous motion he slammed her body against the hallway wall. With his large hands and forceful grip, he began to choke her.

The outer edge of her lips began to turn blue as her legs dangled only touching the floor with the tips of her shoes. She held onto his wrist and struggled to hold herself up enough to take a desperate breath.

The veins on the side of his neck were bulging and his mouth was contorted when he jetted his chin out. With squinted eyes, he slowly moved his face within an inch of hers. In a low and monotone voice, he spoke slowly and precisely.

I want to make this perfectly clear; I need the $185,000 you stole from me. So, when you get back from your little funeral, you’d better have the money with you when you cross back over that threshold.

He paused, then added with his teeth clenched and small bubbles of saliva foaming from the corners of his mouth Understand me! Jerking her body up a few inches more as he ended the one-sided conversation.

He’d suspected she’d been the one taking the money from his briefcase all along. A few hundred-dollar bills at a time so he wouldn’t notice the loss. He wasn’t even sure it was her. After all the crooks he hung around with, it could have been any one of them, but she was the one with the best opportunity to steal it.

It was a matter of life or death for him to get the money back. The people who had loaned Tom the money didn’t care who or how it had been stolen. Tom had taken out the loan and he was the one who had to pay it back. One way or another the Sharks wanted their money back.

All of a sudden, a blast from the Uber's horn from outside drew his attention away for just an instant. It was just long enough for her to tightly clasp her hands together, jam them straight up between his arms and smash her elbows down on his forearms. Slamming her arms down hard enough to break free from his grasp around her neck.

When her feet hit the floor she ran for the door. Grabbing her suitcase with one hand and the doorknob with the other then shot out the door like a cannon.

Not daring to look back, she sprinted to the rear of the car and jerked open the back. door. slinging her suitcase into the backseat with such force the luggage exploded.

The half-opened suitcase was being held together by the large plastic zipper and it was slowly losing grip as one by one, each of its teeth slowly let go. It gradually expanded as the contents oozed out onto the floorboard.

Sliding across the back seat of the cab, hiked up on one hip as she hit the slick vinyl and glided across effortlessly. It was as if she'd been practicing the move for the Olympics. Hitting the seat with such force, the whole car bounced hard and the struts squealed out from underneath the vehicle.

The driver was startled and confused at her unorthodox entrance. He didn’t have time to get out to open the door for her. Let alone have time to properly stow her suitcase in the trunk.

Rosemary in a loud and frantic voice yelled out from behind while pounding his headrest in rhythm with each of her words, Go! Go! Go! The driver came to his senses. Figuring out she was in some sort of trouble and running from a bad situation. He wanted no part of a domestic dispute; he’d been a part of those sorts of things before and knew they could quickly get out of hand.

Spinning his Cubies ball cap backward. He gripped the wheel with both hands and floored it. Peeling out of the driveway afraid to look back. He had no interest in knowing who or what they were escaping from. Once they were a safe distance down the street. His eyes rapidly darted back and forth watching the road in front of him and glancing at the rearview mirror watching Rosemary.

Her head fell back against the headrest as she tried to erase the handprints from her red throat and expelling a deep breath, she was relieved to get out alive.

Staying at the family home after the funeral would be her only option now. After all, Beth and Sara would be staying there also. It would be too dangerous for her to ever go back home again

Chapter 2

The Funeral

The St. Patrick’s church in Monterey California was filled with the aroma of flowers. You could smell the moisture in the air like a spring morning. The chancel portion of the church was filled with containers and each of them bursting with bouquets. Some sat on pedestals while others were placed on the floor. The pulpit was so full it looked as if they flowed like water out of the vessels and cascaded down the aisles of the church.

Below the stage was the real centerpiece of this gathering. It was a beautifully hand-carved casket standing on a shiny brass stand; The stand was covered with a pleated velvet cloth that draped to the floor.

The front and both sides of the casket were deeply hand-carved with flowers and fauna. There were fruits and vegetables tucked in too, but you hardly noticed they were there. It didn’t make any sense at the time; they seem to be awkwardly out of place for the occasion.

The casket lid was open and the inside was lined in billowing white satin. From the view from the pews, you could see the small-framed woman laying inside.

There she was, looking as if she was in a peaceful slumber with her head laid upon a satin pillow. Just a few days ago she was sitting at her desk without any real worries and expecting a relaxing weekend with her best friend Martha.

This is Maria Cortez. She was a beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother.  This is what was printed on a wide band of ribbon. The ribbon was carefully weaved around the stems of roses that formed a wreath and laid on top of the half-opened lid of the casket.

She looked so peaceful lying there. You would never guess her life had been filled with so many tragedies, secrets, and deceit. Even the hand-carved casket she now laid inside; it too was a part of her secret past. It’s odd that only after her death she would be able to tell her children the whole story of who she once was. Then explain to them who they really were and how they had escaped inside a casket just like the one she now laid inside for a final time.

The somber music from the organ filled the church as the lowered heads of the mourners entered. They made their way down the red-carpeted aisle and filed into the pews. They began to line up along the walls on both sides of the church until the church was at full capacity. It was a standing room only inside, all but the front pew saved for family and close friends.

In the front pew, Martha Lopez and Beth Cortez were seated along with Dr. Sara Cortez and Rosemary Huff. Maria’s best friend and her three daughters.

A large crowd of people was outside waiting to enter. The church doors were left open so people outside could take part in the proceedings. The California afternoon air was quickly heating up and the inside of the small church became uncomfortably hot for the mourners tightly crowded together inside.

The bee-like buzzing of whispers throughout the chapel spoke of the hand-carved casket and how skillful the carver must have been to create such a thing of beauty, it was truly a work of art.

When the Priest entered from the left side of the stage, the mumbled voices slowly trailed off and became silent. Stepping down from the pulpit, they watched his every move as he avoided the floral arrangements that sat on the side of each step.

The length of his robe and the long gate of his step made it look as if he was gliding across the floor he seemed to be floating. Went over to the front pew where the four ladies were seated. He leaned in and whispered his condolences for the loss of their mother and friend. He then briefly informed them of the proceedings at the church and how the procession to the cemetery would follow. Stopped for a moment and spoke in a low solemn voice to each of the ladies privately. Gently he held their hand as he consoled each of them.

Gliding back up and positioned himself behind the podium. When raising his arms, the long white sleeves of his robe grew in length. Slowly lowering them, the organ music faded and prompted the mourners to take their seats so the service could begin.

The funeral was sad but beautiful. Her many friends spoke about Maria and how she had touched their lives in so many ways. They spoke of what a generous person she was and how empty their lives would be without her. The legacy she left behind would make anyone proud to own.

After the funeral and the burial