by Mary Frances
“You’ve never had a roasted marshmallow?” Dallas asked as he took a stick and slid one on.
“I have never,” Margaret answered. “I also have never caught a fish before now, or sat at a fire outdoors. There are a lot of things I have not done in my life until now but I intend to start.”
Dallas held his stick over the fire and slowly roasted his to a golden brown. Sandy watched closely and followed his lead. Margaret, on the other hand put hers too close and in seconds, it was on fire. She held it up and watched as the marshmallow turned crispy black then slid down the stick. Not knowing what to do, she tipped the stick and let it fall into the fire.
“Well, that isn’t fun,” she said. Dallas did another one and when it was a golden brown, he held it out for her.
“Try this one, Margaret.”
She pulled it off and popped it in her mouth. The face she made told everyone she didn’t like it. Sandy did another and hers too caught on fire and as she held it up, Dallas quickly stood up and blew out the flames. It was a black and bubbly mess on the end of the stick. Margaret reached over and pulled it off. Instead of dropping it in the fire, she popped it in her mouth and discovered something about herself. She liked them burned!
“Now, that one was good,” she said and started another one. Dallas and Sandy watched her as she burned one after the other, blowing the flames out each time and slipping the charred mass into her mouth. After seven charred marshmallows, she was done. She sat back and grinned. Her teeth showed the remnants of the burned candy.
“What else haven’t you done, Margaret?” Dallas asked. He was roasting another as he waited for her to think.
“Let’s see,” she started. “I have never been on skis and I have never ridden a horse. Those things, I will probably never do, but the things I want to do, hmm…let me think.” She leaned back and thought for a few seconds then she smiled.
“I want to sleep under the stars, walk under a waterfall and walk barefoot in the grass.” For a few moments, Dallas and Sandy stared at her while she closed her eyes and thought about her list of wishes. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Dallas.
“What about you, detective? What have you yet to do?”
Dallas let his stick fall into the fire and as the wood burned, he let his mind wander. “I would like to wake up in a small cabin on Christmas morning with a foot of snow, no! Two feet of snow on the ground and a fresh pot of coffee on a wood stove. I want to be wearing flannel and feel the cold air on the floor when I get up and the heat of the stove as I stand. I want to stand quiet in the woods and see deer. I want to hear the woods cracking and groaning under the weight of the snow and smell the cold fresh air.”
“Sounds like you’ve been in the desert too long.” Margaret laughed.
“Could be,” he said.
“And all of this is free,” Sandy said. She had been quietly roasting marshmallows while they talked and now, she joined in. “Everything both of you talked about really costs nothing but time. Maybe it’s time to think about seeing some of your dreams through before time runs out.”
Margaret was standing up and heading back into the house.
“We were supposed to tell ghost stories,” Sandy complained.
“We’ll save that for our camping trip next time,” Margaret said. “I am going to bed. Tomorrow, we have one stop before we leave for home.”
“And we are stopping where?” Dallas asked.
“William Shelton,” Margaret said and winked. “I expect he’ll see me tomorrow and then we can go home.”
Dallas hoped she was right, and whatever she was up to would have to wait until then. For now, Margaret and her secret plan was just that—a secret.
Chapter Nine
Margaret sat on the deck watching the clouds forming out over the lake. As the trees swayed in the wind, she pulled her sweater closer. Waiting was the hard part. She didn’t know what she was going to say to the kid when they got there, but she knew she would confront him. She looked at her watch. It was almost noon. She had called the detention center in the morning and Gloria was surprised when William had said, yes, he would see the woman with the red marble. Sandy tapped on the sliding glass door, letting Margaret know it was time to go. She got up from her chair, took one last look at the woods and lake, and then went inside. Dallas had taken their bags down to the garage earlier and was busy closing the house for the time he would be gone. When everyone was ready, they climbed into the golf carts and headed down the path. No one spoke as they got into the car and when the gates finally closed behind them, Margaret looked up at Dallas. He was watching her in his mirror.
“We’ll go see the kid first, then if everything goes as you hope they do, we’ll stop in at the police department before we leave town,” Dallas said as he aimed the car down the road. The women were silent as they drove to the detention center. Wilma rode in the back with Margaret, leaving Sandy up front with Dallas. Her head still went back and forth as they drove, as she tried to catch every tree in her memory.
By one o’clock, they were in Cadillac. The car pulled up to the gates and after a few moments wait, they opened. Dallas drove straight in and stopped at the registration building and parked the car. Margaret took a deep breath and waited until he opened her door and helped her out. Sandy and Wilma got out and went under the trees to the visitor’s area and took a seat at a picnic table to wait.
As Margaret walked, she kept her hands in her pockets, one hand on the small bag of marbles. Dallas led her to the steps and walked her in. Once inside, he tipped his hat and let her arm go.
“This may take a bit,” she said as she went down the hall.
“I’ll be right outside,” he said. Dallas watched her scuffle down the hall to the open door at the end and once she was out of sight, he went out to join the others at the table. Margaret went inside the room and as she did, Gloria looked up from a desk and stood.
“Ms. Cobilet,” she said as she came from behind the desk. “Billy is in the yard. We’re having a ball game and although he doesn’t play, he is on the bleachers, watching the others.”
Gloria headed for the door with Margaret following quietly.
“I can’t let you in with him,” she said, “rules are rules, but I have to warn you. He may not talk to you.” Then she added, “You can talk to him through the fence but I don’t know if he’ll listen.”
“All I can do is try,” Margaret said as they went outside.
The ball field was behind the building and as they walked closer, they could hear the children playing. Margaret shuffled along behind Gloria to the field. The bleachers were set far enough from the fence so no one could climb them and escape and as Margaret walked closer, she could see a lone child sitting at the top. The boy was wearing a long sleeve shirt and dark pants.
“Billy!” Gloria called out to him as they neared the fence. The boy turned once and then turned back to the game on the field.
Gloria stopped at the fence and waited for Margaret to catch up. When she did, Gloria turned to her and smiled.
“Good luck, Ms. Cobilet,” she said, and walked back the way she had come. Margaret stood at the fence for a few seconds and studied the back of the boy. With her hands still in her pockets, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wire fence.
“You will not get any of the money in the trust fund, Billy,” she said. The boy didn’t move.
“I know you killed them and how,” she said.
When the boy didn’t respond, she continued.
“I think if they dig up your mother’s body and find she has broken fingers on each hand, they’ll believe me when I tell them how you kept her in the water until she tired and drowned.”
Billy turned his head a little. Margaret went on.
“And I found the hammer,” she said.
Billy turned around to face her. His eyes, deep pools of anger, stared at her.
“Once they dig your father up and I give them the hammer, they can place it righ
t where you hit him,” she said. “The boat didn’t kill him, you did.”
Billy stared at her and although he was a distance from her, Margaret could feel his anger.
“Should I go on?” she asked.
“You don’t know anything,” he finally said. “You don’t know nothing!”
“But I do know,” Margaret said quietly. “I am Margaret Cobilet.” She waited a moment then added, “I am a psychic…”
“I know who you are!” Billy shouted. “I know who you are. I watch television. I’m not stupid,” he added.
“I know you aren’t stupid,” Margaret answered. “You’re a very smart boy for a kid your age. But not as smart as me.”
Billy turned and slowly climbed down the bleachers. He walked toward the fence and when he was just across from Margaret, he stopped.
“Do you believe in psychics?” Margaret asked.
“Don’t touch me,” Billy said as he took one step back.
“This time, I don’t have to,” Margaret said with a smile. “I used to have to touch you to ‘read’ you, and I can’t possibly do that from here. My…umm…powers have changed a bit.”
“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes still black inside.
“I just wanted to know why,” she said.
Billy smiled and looked around him. When he was sure they were alone, he grinned. “You can’t prove anything.” He laughed. Margaret noticed his eyes had turned a pretty blue. “It would be my word against yours,” he said. Margaret smiled too.
“You’re a cute kid for a nine year old,” she told him. “But you’re on the wrong side of the fence.”
“They won’t take away my trust,” he told her. “And they can only hold me for another nine years and then I’m out of here.”
“Maybe.” Margaret watched him closely. “If they find you guilty, they’ll take the money back from the trust and then where will you be?”
“They won’t find me guilty of anything. You can’t prove anything,” he said, his eyes changing again to black.
“I just wanted to know why,” Margaret said. “Then, I’ll leave you alone.”
Billy thought about it for a moment. “Because I could,” he finally answered. Margaret took a deep breath. This was the first time she had ever confronted a murderer face to face. Even though he was only a kid, he was still dangerous.
“Was it the money?” she asked. Billy looked around again.
“Money talks,” he said, grinning. “My father always told me that. I learned very early that money was the center of their world.”
“Was it the center of your world?” Margaret stepped a bit from the fence.
“I did it because of the island,” he suddenly said. “I did it because of the island.”
Margaret pushed her hands deeper into her pockets and shuffled her feet slightly in the gravel.
“You killed your parents because of the island,” she said. “Why? Didn’t you like it out there?”
Billy squatted down in the grass on his side of the fence. “I loved the island,” he told her.
“My mother wanted me to go to a stupid school in New York somewhere.” As he talked, his fingers pulled at small strands of grass.
“My mother said she couldn’t teach me anything anymore. She said I needed to go to a special school.”
For a moment, Margaret felt sorry for the boy. A small pile of grass was forming at his feet as he talked.
“My father promised I would never have to leave the island. He promised me. Then, she wanted to change everything. She always started everything,” he said.
“Was that a reason to kill her?” Margaret asked.
Billy looked up without lifting his head. Margaret could feel the danger inside of the boy again.
“I killed her because she needed to be dead,” he answered casually. “She and Dad had a fight and she threatened to take me and go. She said it was for my own benefit. Dad tried to buy her off but she said she could get more from him if they divorced.” Billy plucked again at the grass. Now, Margaret knew why there was a million dollars in the house for the boy to get his hands on.
“Like I said, she needed to be dead, so I killed her.”
Margaret looked up at the sky for a moment and then quickly back at the boy on the ground. The clouds promised rain.
“But to go out on the lake with your own mother and capsize the canoe was one thing,”
Margaret said, “then to push her away in deep water over and over again until she tired, is murder.”
“She tried to hold onto the canoe,” Billy said. His cherub face carried a grin as he talked.
“She should have been wearing a life vest, like she always made me wear.”
“You smashed her fingers with the paddle until she couldn’t hold on anymore and then pushed her under.” Margaret said.
“I did not,” Billy said suddenly. “I didn’t have to push her down. I simply paddled around her in circles until she went down and stayed there.”
“I imagine it was hard for her to swim with broken fingers,” Margaret said. She looked at the boy. “If your dad paid her off, why didn’t you just let her go? You could have stayed there with your dad. A boy as smart as you would have had a voice in the decision.”
Billy sat down on the grass and let his legs sprawl in front of him.
“Because she lied. She tricked my dad into giving her money and she was supposed to leave but she told me she was going to take me anyways. She had it all planned. She took me out in the canoe for one last ride around and we were going to sneak away and leave the island. She said my dad would have to fight for me if he wanted me, so I killed her that night. I told her I wasn’t leaving the island.”
Margaret stepped away from the fence again and as she did, Billy watched her.
“You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” he asked. Margaret looked at him. He was grinning again. She chose her own conversation.
“So, your mother’s dead and you get to stay on the island. Why kill your dad too? That didn’t make sense.” Margaret said. Billy leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the sky.
“He was a liar too,” he said. “He said with mom gone, we’d have to stay up on the peninsula for a while. He said it was just until we got someone to come out to stay on the island with me, but once we got to the peninsula house, he changed his mind. He said he was putting the island up for sale.”
“By killing both of your parents, you killed all your chances of staying on the island,”
Margaret said.
“Not really.” Billy was still looking up at the clouds as he talked. “I figured I’d get the money in the trust and when I get out of here, go back and buy it again. Then, I can do things my way.”
“And what if the people who own the island don’t want to sell?” she asked.
“Money talks, lady,” Billy said quickly. “Everyone has a price.”
Margaret smiled. He had used one of her own favorite phrases. “If they do believe me, they’ll take away your trust fund,” she reminded him. “Then, you will never get the island back.”
Billy smiled again. “Like I said, they’ll never believe you over me,” he said. “You’re an old lady who let a lot of kids die and you went nuts because of it and you got no proof.”
Margaret stopped smiling. She stepped closer to the fence.
“But, if they do, then what will you do? No money, no island,” she said. Billy slowly got up from the ground. The small pile of grass shavings were wiped away quickly with his foot.
“I am not stupid. I have money set aside, just in case,” he whispered through the fence. “But, they’ll never believe you. I’m a cute little kid who lost my mommy and daddy and you’re an old crazy lady who spent too much time in the hot desert. They’ll never believe you. But, like I said, if they do, they can only keep me here until I turn eighteen.”
Margaret stepped even closer to the fence. She was sure she wasn’t close enough for him to touch her in case what s
he was about to say made him angry. Even through a fence, he was a murderer.
“I have the hammer, Billy. They’ll dig both of your parents up and find out that the hammer fits the head wound. They’ll see your mother had her fingers broken and they’ll take away your trust fund. In this state, they can hold you until you turn twenty five years old. By that time, someone will surely find the money you think you have hidden and you’ll never get the island. You are just a kid and I am an old woman, but I assure you, you will never have the island again.”
“No one will ever believe you,” he said pushing his hands deep in his pockets. He looked up at her and smiled a kid smile. “All I have to do is wait.”
Margaret looked up again at the sky. The clouds were leaking slowly and as the rain began, she looked back at the kid behind the fence.
“Let’s see. You’re nine now, and broke. By the time you get out of here, you’ll be eighteen and still broke. You’ll go to an adult facility until you turn twenty five and then you’ll be free again. That’s sixteen years from now.” Margaret started to walk away.
“They’ll never believe you over me!” Billy yelled.
Margaret walked back to the fence and smiled. “I’ll bet you one million dollars, they’ll believe me over you,” she said calmly. Billy lost his smile.
Margaret pulled her hand out of her pocket. She held something in the palm of her hand.
“You want to bet?” she asked as she pulled her other hand out of her other pocket. Billy’s eyes turned black as she held up the bag of blue marbles. In the other hand, she showed him the small tape recorder.
“One million dollars,” she said as she turned the device off. She looked at him closely and smiled. “The winner gets to keep the marbles.” She tucked the small bag back in her pocket. Margaret walked as quickly as her swollen feet would let her. Billy was screaming and trying to climb the fence after her. The guards were pulling him back as she left the yard. As Margaret rounded the building, Dallas was there to help her to the car. The rain started to fall harder as she climbed in and locked the door. Sandy and Wilma were already in the back seat when Dallas closed his door.
