by Jill Nojack
Deborah’s face hardened when she looked back at her mother. “Why? Is the old witch poking around into another murder? That’s it, isn’t it? I knew you weren’t just ‘taking a shortcut.’” She put her hands on her hips and her voice went up in volume. “So how about this, then? Stay away from us and our land or I’ll tell the cops how I caught you trespassing and poking your nose in where you don’t belong.” She held up a cell phone. “The evidence is right here. I’ve got a video of you walking past the sign that says this is private land—that’s right, I saw you the first time you wandered into the yard with your little stick. I recorded it. I bet the police chief would be happy to charge you with trespassing since everyone says you two are such BFFs, right?”
She knew Deborah would expect her to put up a fight, so she disappointed her by saying, “Deborah, dear, I’m sorry I’ve upset you.” Her voice dripped with sincerity—so much sincerity that it couldn’t fail to leave a slimy puddle in the grass. “I never meant to trespass. And I’ll be on may way now, since you asked so nicely. I wouldn’t want my presence to cause any more harm…” She inclined her head as she said the last words under her breath. “…than is absolutely necessary.”
The gesture would have looked demure and repentant on anyone else, but when Natalie raised her eyes again, Zelda’s face told her she’d achieved the exact terrifying effect she’d been going for. To add to it, Natalie even waggled her fingertips in a friendly little wave before she turned to go, directing the magic it released toward the phone Deborah still held in her hand.
She smiled once she was facing away from the Jameses. She’d like to see Deborah find that video now.
9
There weren’t so many aisles in the Decent Food Mart in Giles that you could lose your way in them, but Gillian was beginning to feel discouraged. She was sure she’d seen formula in the store before—not that there were many births in Giles, but there were a few younger people in town. Most of them, like Jenny, still lived with their parents or had moved back in again for economic reasons. She turned around and went back the way she came, paying special attention to the bottom row.
She gave up finally and headed for the counter. “Madhu? I was sure you carried baby formula, but I can’t find it.”
The pretty middle-aged woman in a red and blue sari who was reading a book behind the counter said, “It is on order. The last case went beyond the expiration date. We did not expect to have three new babies in town all at one time.” She lay her open book face down on the countertop and leaned on one hand toward Gillian. “Mrs. Ling has said to me that Mrs. Holgerson is staying with the Sanders now. Is that so?”
Gillian nodded. “A number of us are helping out. It’s a terrible thing.”
“Yes. It is very sad. Would you like me to call you when the formula is arrived? It should be with the truck tomorrow.” She raised her eyebrows imperceptibly. “Do you think that Mr. Holgerson committed this murder, like the town is saying?”
The gossips had certainly been here before Gillian, but that was no surprise. She had no interest in being drawn into it. “The girls will be out of formula before tomorrow, so that’s some bad luck. And for you, too, especially with an entire case expiring before you could sell it. With the price these days, I bet it hurt to throw that out.”
“No, I did not throw it away. There was a little bit of money for it along with the spoiled fruit and vegetables and the day old bread. It is become pig food now. We do not get much for expired goods, but it does not go to waste.”
“That’s a great use for it. Somebody’s going to have a well-fed ham on the table next Thanksgiving.” She remembered too late that Madhu, a Hindu, was firmly vegetarian.
The woman said, “No, no…nothing like that. I would not sell it to feed an animal for slaughter. It is for Deborah James’s pigs. She treats them like most people would treat their children. They are pets. She was pleased to have the formula. Very pleased. She said, even, that there would soon be another mouth to feed.” Madhu’s hand went to her own mouth, but her smile was evident in her eyes. She lowered her voice when she shared what made her smile. “I imagined her with one of her big friends in her lap, feeding it with a bottle.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It was most amusing.”
Gillian laughed out loud, stuck with the image now herself. When she regained control, she said, “Oh well, into Salem it is, then. I hope I get back before the dear little things have yelled the house down waiting for their meal. Poor Jenny still isn’t getting much sleep, no matter what we give her to help.”
“With a child missing, I cannot imagine such grief.”
“They’ll find her,” Gillian said. “We’ve got a great police force. I don’t think many of them have slept much since it happened.”
“Please tell young Jenny this for me; I have consulted the child’s chart. It will be well. Her daughter has the heart of a lion. It is written in the stars.”
Gillian gave a half smile. No matter how much faith she put in magic, she had a hard time believing that anyone could predict the future. Although she came down firmly in the camp of believing in free will instead of karma, she just said, “Thank you. I’ll do that. Some hopeful news might cheer her; she needs all of it she can get.”
***
When she emerged again on Bishop Way where Maureen had lived, Natalie realized there was a telescope trained on her from the porch of a house across the street. She glared directly into the lens.
“Natalie Taylor! I thought that was you,” a voice called. “Come over and have a cup of tea. It’s been ages.”
She took another look, shading her eyes this time, and looking beyond the telescope to the person who lurked behind it. She called out, “Bertha Brown. Is that you? When did you relocate into town?”
Natalie looked both ways, then started across the street as the woman replied, “The farm got to be too much for Ellery a couple of years ago. Found this place, and we’re happy enough.” She smiled at the gray-haired, slender man in black-framed glasses who dozed in the chair by her side.
Natalie climbed the sturdy wooden stairs to the porch that spread across the entire front of the house. “I see you’ve taken up bird watching.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Watching the neighbors is much more fun. Take a seat and I’ll fill you in on all the gossip. Have you heard the latest?”
Natalie selected a sturdy-looking green metal lawn chair to Bertha’s right. “That depends on what gossip you’re talking about.”
“Well…” Bertha began teasingly, then continued in a rush of words, “…earlier in the week, the most interesting item was the rash of missing pets. But why waste our time talking about Lavinia Green’s Fluffy? That dog is always running off into the woods and needing to be rescued from the pound. She’s been up and down the street calling the foolish little thing all day….”
Bertha took a breath, then leaned in toward Natalie to continue more slowly, “No, I’m talking about the murder. Maureen Oliver? Surely, you’ve heard. I know you knew her—she served us lunch down to the hospital on those endless shifts we did together. Lived down the street.” Bertha nodded her head toward the tidy house where the yellow police tape still covered the entry. “I think it’s that no-good Holgerson boy who married Maureen’s Jenny who did it. You should have seen what they picked out of his truck after they took him in.”
Natalie raised a hand to her chin and leaned toward her former coworker to encourage her. “Do tell….”
“A pair of lady’s panties. Big, but not pregnant-with-triplets big like that Jenny would have been wearing lately. No, he was spreading himself around, just like he did before he was married. My granddaughter says he cheated on the poor girl all through high school. She couldn’t imagine why Jenny married him after all of that.”
“I didn’t know that. What else have you heard?”
“Hmmmm…well, I may know who those big underpants belong to.” Bertha leaned in even closer now, lowering her voice, drawing out
the suspense.
Natalie cocked one ear toward her for the revelation. Bertha had always prided herself on having the juiciest gossip.
“Well…” Bertha looked over her shoulder at Ellery, who hadn’t moved a millimeter since the two women had started talking. “I really shouldn’t say, since Ellery’s related on his mother’s side—distant cousins you know, of the James’s—but that Deborah was out walking along the street when I opened the door to bring in the milk. Mincing along in her high heels just this side of Maureen’s house as Butch’s rig pulled out of the drive. Hadn’t been home overnight, from the look of her.”
Natalie sat back. If that was true…. “She was walking along the sidewalk, eh? What time would you say that was?”
“Must have been around six a.m. We’ve never adjusted to city life. We’re still up well before the dawn, ready to meet the sunrise. Early birds of a feather. That’s us.”
And why didn’t William tell her about this? Surely the neighbors had been interviewed.
As she took her leave, declining the tea Bertha belatedly remembered she’d offered, Natalie mulled over what she’d learned. Would Butch Holgerson kill his mother-in-law over an affair if she caught him at it? It was as good a motive as any, but it didn’t explain the missing child. And could it also mean that Deborah’s push to keep Natalie off her mother’s land was about much more than her nasty temperament?
***
William didn’t light the cruiser’s cherry-top as he drove to meet Junior Rangle at the dirt track where Indian Trail ran off for a few hundred feet into Giles Woods. He hadn’t questioned the dispatcher when she gave him the assignment; it was his job to go out on calls if he was needed and there was no pressing detecting to do. But he couldn’t imagine the dog warden needed police backup often.
And mostly, it didn’t seem important when a child was still missing. Not that there had been any developments in the case. Butch was still in the hospital, unconscious, and no new leads had been called in to the station. His own contribution, the evidence he’d collected on the scene, was still at the lab. Denton had followed up on the information about the James woman, but he hadn’t uncovered anything other than an affair.
He drove slowly down the rutted road to pull up behind the big white city van. Junior was a nice enough fella, but he disapproved of his fondness for drink. William preferred a lime rickey. He really missed having a soda fountain in town.
Junior was leaning against his truck with a tranquilizer gun in hand. That seemed normal enough at first, until William realized his face looked as white as a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
He hurried over and said, “You okay? Gosh, you look terrible. What happened?”
“I dunno. Gotta be honest. Never seen nothin’ like it. Well…not before this week, I din’t.” He shook his head, then shoved the dart gun into its holster and pulled a flask out of the back pocket of his dungarees. He tipped it up high as he drank.
He had to have drained it before he finished, and William wondered if the now-empty flask had been full in the morning.
Junior continued, “Thought I’d got it, but…nope. I’ll catch it, though. Jes’ gonna need some help. Thass why I called.”
Now that William was close enough, the smell of booze flowing off the man was overpowering. He’d take care of what Junior had called him out here for—if it turned out to be anything at all—but after that, he was driving Junior home with instructions to put himself to bed. It wasn’t right that a man in Junior’s condition was driving around in a city vehicle. He sure wasn’t going to let him drive away in it.
“Junior, I can see you’re feeling poorly, so I won’t press too hard, but what the heck are you talking about? I hope you have a good reason for calling me all the way out here.”
“Yeah, if you call monsters a good reason. ‘Cause there’s no other way to describe the thing. I thought it was some kinda big cat at first, but then…that face. That weren’t no cat’s face. That was jes’…it was tryin’ to trick me. That’s what. Tryin’ to make me think it was harmless and then git me. But I hit it, I know I did.” Junior’s head bobbed up and down earnestly. “Din’t even make it woozy! It jes’ ran right off inna the woods. Go on. Look.” He jerked his head toward a break in the brush at the side of the dirt track. “It was standin’ right there in that open patch when I drilled it with the dart.”
William walked over to the space Junior indicated and parted the bushes with a foot as he looked around for signs of an animal having been there. He didn’t find any prints, but he did find a dart stuck in the trunk of a nearby tree. Whatever had Junior so upset had gotten off scot free, and there was no reason it shouldn’t. Just because things were wild didn’t mean they caused harm.
“I bet it was a bobcat. They come around here every so often. Doesn’t seem like police business to me.” William held a hand out. “Now, give me your keys. You can’t get behind the wheel in that state. I’ll get someone to drive the van back to the pound.”
Junior stood up straight, defiant, shrugging off the friendly hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think so, man.”
“Aw, come on, I’m only trying to help. Gosh, Junior, I don’t want to fight. Let me get you home safe and sound.”
The other man’s face hardened. “I said I don’t think so. I’ve had bunches a’ calls about pets goin’ missin’ for the past week. I finally find out we gots a monster on our hands—and maybe my dead ex-girlfriend was makin’ a pet of it and ne’er said a word to me—and you wanna pack me up and ignore it? No, I’m the animal warden. This is my job.” Junior patted himself hard on the the chest. “My terr’tory. I jes’ wanted me some backup, but you’re no help!” He took a step forward, threatening.
William held his ground, trying not to appear threatening in return and make things worse. It was easy enough; he knew he still looked like the harmless toy buyer he truly was. He didn’t need to escalate the issue, but he wasn’t going to let the man drive drunk. Junior drew nearer, then lowered his head and charged, apparently too inebriated to think things through. He couldn’t have done any real harm if he’d connected with William’s midsection as he seemed to have planned, but William didn’t have to deal with the blow; Junior stumbled and fell at his feet.
William squatted down and patted him on the shoulder. “There, there,” he said. “Better now?”
It was a moot question. He’d sent plenty of calm with his soothing gesture. Junior wouldn’t have a choice.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Junior said into the dirt, then pushed himself back to standing. “I’m sorry, Bill. I am. I’m…I’m upset over the murder and all. Dunno what I’m doin’.” He shook his head and blinked his eyes.
William was glad it was over. He put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder and Junior didn’t shrug it off again. “It’s okay. But leave the bottle home next time.”
As Junior followed him to the cruiser without further argument, William made a mental note to ask him what he meant about Maureen sheltering a monster. There was no point interviewing the man in his current state. Looked like it was going to be an early morning tomorrow. He was pretty sure he’d have to greet Junior like the sunrise if he wanted to interview him sober.
***
When Natalie threw the door open, causing the shop bell to swing furiously to and fro, Cat jumped straight up in the air in alarm, then skittered off down the hallway of Cat’s Magical Shoppe to hide in the kitchen. As her icy gaze slid from Twink to Cassie, Cassie thought about scampering off down the hallway, too.
Natalie stopped just in front of Twink at the counter and her frown didn’t improve when she asked, “Why are you here? Where’s Gillian?”
Twink, who normally had an answer ready for anything, stuttered, “I um, they…she asked…”
Cassie couldn’t blame her. The girl was smart; she knew better than to run out into Natalie’s firing line. She put a supportive hand on the teen’s shoulder and said, “Nat, stop terrifying the rest of my staff. Gillian is
helping Jenny out with the babies today. Twink agreed to stay late so that I didn’t have to call you in on your day off.”
Twink nodded her head in agreement, her long brown curls bouncing as the healthy glow of her mahogany skin returned, flushing again with the blood that had drained from it under the withering power of Natalie’s glare.
“Baste me in batwing sauce!” Nat responded. “How inconvenient. I need help from both you and Gillian as soon as possible—a little job for a Maid, Mother, and Crone.”
“Explain it to me while I clean. I want to catch up while the shop is empty,” Cassie replied. She turned to Twink. “Could you grab the broom and sweep up? Really dig into the corners and under the shelves and things.” She looked down accusingly at the kitten that had returned from the kitchen and was now gnawing at her sneaker laces. “Cat has been dropping hair everywhere now that it’s getting warm.”
“On it,” Twink replied. She returned from the back storeroom with the shop’s broom. It was way more effective but nowhere near as picturesque as the tourist stock with their handles made from polished branches and broom corn bristles.
“Okay Nat, so what’s the deal?” Cassie asked as she lifted one foot high to rescue it from Cat’s attentions. When the playful young cat dropped off her shoe, she headed for a set of shelves with a dust cloth in hand.
Natalie followed close behind her, and Cassie thought about coming to an abrupt stop to see if the older woman would rear-end her, but she decided Nat probably wasn’t in the mood. And anyway, she’d become a lot more cautious now that she had a baby on board. She didn’t want to risk being knocked belly first into the shelves if Nat bumped into her too hard. The baby was the most important thing. She smiled and put her non-dusting hand on her still-flat abdomen, feeling the special glow of knowing she would soon have her own child in the house instead of someone else’s.
She started dusting, then stared for a while at a plastic bag full of herbs, thinking about how the dried anguloa uniflora blossoms really did look like babies in a cradle.
