by Lynn, JB
I let out a sigh of relief, released DeeDee from the back seat so that she could run into the house, and turned my attention back to the teacher. “How can I help you, Miss Lassalan?”
“You sound like a very good customer service representative,” God mocked from his spot in my bra. I ignored him, focusing instead on the woman standing a few feet away.
“Please,” the other woman insisted. “Call me Lorraine.”
“How can I help you, Lorraine?” I asked with a tired smile.
“Leslie’s very upset about her sister,” the teacher began.
“Loretta tends to have that effect on people,” I said.
“I was wondering if you could talk to her,” Lorraine asked.
“To Aunt Loretta?”
She shook her head. “No, to Leslie.”
I shrugged. “I can try,” I said, not knowing how I could possibly calm her down about the situation with her twin.
“I’d appreciate that,” Lorraine said.
I stared at her for a long moment, wondering if there was anything she wanted to add.
“The girls are both doing well,” she said, changing the subject. “They’re quick learners, and Alicia seems to be coming out of her shell a bit more.”
I smiled, glad to hear that. “It’s been a big change for her,” I said.
Lorraine nodded. “But I suspect it’s a change for the better.”
“I certainly hope so,” I said, thinking of how much happier Marlene seemed, now that her daughter was back in the family fold.
“Though they’re upset about the possibility of Templeton leaving, too.” Lorraine shook her head disapprovingly.
“I’ve already talked to him,” I told her. “I don’t know that I can change his mind.”
“Perhaps you’re not looking for the right solution,” she said.
Before I could ask her what that was supposed to mean, she turned on her heel, saying, “I have to get back to the girls. I left Leslie coloring with them.”
I watched her go and felt the urge to join my nieces in putting crayon to paper.
Instead, I had to act like a grown up and do adult things.
Once she was out of sight, I looked around for Mike. The crow was perched on a nearby tree. When he saw that I was looking for him, he flew over and landed by my feet.
“All’s been quiet,” he squawked.
“I appreciate you keeping an eye on things,” I told him. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”
“No need,” he said. “Your aunt fed me earlier.”
“Leslie?” I asked, not realizing that she had taken over the responsibility of feeding the bird.
“Guess again,” he cawed with amusement.
“Loretta?” I asked, wondering if maybe she’d gotten mad at whatever Templeton had made for breakfast and thrown it out into the yard, and the bird had determined that was her version of feeding him.
“Wrong again.”
“Susan?” God asked, sounding just as surprised as I was feeling.
“Susan for the win,” the black bird said with delight. “She brought me turkey.”
“Cannibal,” God murmured under his breath. He was not a fan of the fact that Mike wasn’t above eating his avian brethren.
“Has she done that before?” I asked.
“She has,” Mike confirmed. “She’s a much bigger softie than anybody knows.” Beating his wings, he flew off.
“That does actually make some sense,” God said as I trudged toward the front door of the house. “Remember how she didn’t like Doomsday when you first brought her home, and now she spoils her rotten.”
“DeeDee’s not spoiled,” I began to argue.
“So far, she’s had half of an egg sandwich and half of a hot pastrami today,” the lizard retorted. “If that’s not spoiled, I don’t know what is.”
I chuckled. He did have a point. My smile died on my lips as I saw Griswald walking out of the house toward me. “Uh oh,” I muttered under my breath.
“This does not look like it’s going to go well,” God agreed.
30
Griswald held up his car keys, indicating he wanted to go for a ride. Nodding my understanding, I began to walk toward his car. “Everything okay?”
“Not exactly,” he said darkly.
I swallowed hard as anxiety churned in my gut. I didn’t know whether he wanted to talk about my dad, Delveccio, or Templeton, but I had the feeling I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
Once we were both in his car, he began to drive. “Your aunt is driving me nuts about Templeton,” he complained bitterly.
“Susan or Loretta?” I asked carefully.
“Both,” he admitted. “But I meant Susan.”
I chuckled. “For all these years, Aunt Susan has never approved of anyone that Aunt Loretta has been with, and now, of all people she wants to keep around, it’s Templeton.”
He glanced at me sideways and I realized I’d probably just revealed a little bit too much about what I knew about Templeton’s less than honest proclivities.
“I mean,” I covered awkwardly, “that he’s practically usurped her position in the kitchen.”
Griswald nodded and returned his attention back to driving.
“I saw Derek,” I told him.
“Great. We have to compare notes.”
I glanced out the window, trying to determine where he was headed. “Where are we going?”
“Back to see Mrs. Hallangen,” he said.
“Why?”
“She’s requested a meeting. What’s with the new look?”
“The beautician at the funeral home did it while we talked,” I explained.
“That’s a first,” Griswald muttered. “Most people don’t get makeovers while conducting an investigation.”
“I’m not like most people,” I snapped back defensively.
“You’re certainly not. Did you learn anything?”
“As a matter of fact, she told me something interesting. She said there was an argument between Mrs. Hallangen and the funeral director about Madison. Has that come up on your side of things?”
Griswald shook his head.
I then told him about what Derek had said about Bob Hallangen’s meetings at the empty building next to the gymnastics place. “I went over to take a look at the strip mall,” I told him. “It seems like a really busy place. Not where you’d want to go if you expected to be unseen.”
“I’d imagine not,” Griswald murmured thoughtfully.
I had the distinct impression that he was working on a theory, but I didn’t know what it could be. I waited patiently, hoping he’d reveal his thoughts.
Finally, he said, “Mrs. Hallangen isn’t Robert’s first wife,” he revealed.
“So you’re thinking that the ex-wife stole his ashes?” I asked, confused.
He shrugged. “I think it makes him a little bit more complicated. Family is always complicated.”
An uncomfortable silence fell in the car as we’d reached the end of our note comparison but hadn’t yet reached our destination.
“Do you know who Loretta is cheating on Templeton with?” I blurted out curiously.
Griswald chuckled. “No, should I?”
“I have the distinct feeling I’ve seen the man before,” I told him.
“From where?”
I frowned, and stared out the side window. “I can’t remember. I don’t think I’ve actually ever met him personally, I feel like I’ve just seen him somewhere.”
“I thought you walked in on him and Loretta at The Corset,” he said.
“I did. But that’s not where I know him from.”
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my pocket to look at the screen. Griswald’s attention was on the road, so he didn’t see that I winced when I saw who was trying to contact me. My father.
I quickly typed, “With Griswald now”, in reply to his “Any job prospects?” text that he had sent. Then, I stowed my phone away. I could
only deal with one problem at a time, and the current issue was the job with the missing ashes.
“Everything okay?” Griswald asked, glancing over at me.
“Yep.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, Maggie,” he began slowly.
I knew what he was going to tell me, but I still asked, “What?”
“It would seem that your father was the cellmate of the body found in Delveccio’s trunk,” he revealed. “And now, he’s a suspect in his murder.”
I stayed very still, unsure of how to react. I didn’t want to overdo it, pretending to be surprised when I was not. After all, Griswald had had a long career in law enforcement and would spot that lie. “Oh,” I said finally.
Griswald chuckled. “I guess nothing really surprises you about your family by now.”
“Not much,” I admitted.
“I think the police are looking for him,” Griswald said.
“Do you think I should tell him to turn himself in?” I asked. “I could call him.”
Griswald frowned. “You’d do that?”
“I don’t think he killed anyone,” I said. “But if his going in to answer some of their questions would clear it up…”
“He’s an ex-con, Maggie.”
“I am well aware.”
Griswald drummed on the steering wheel thoughtfully. “Don’t tell my nephew I said this,” he said, referring to his nephew, Police Detective Brian Griswald, “but let them find him on their own.”
I nodded slowly. That was not the reaction I had expected him to give me. We pulled into the Hallangen’s long driveway and rolled toward the house.
“I think you should do the talking this time,” he suggested.
“Me?” I squeaked with surprise, getting caught off guard again by him.
“You offer a unique perspective,” Griswald said. “Maybe you’ll be able to throw her off her game and we’ll be able to figure out what this is actually about.”
As we approached the house, we saw something that made him mutter under his breath, “What the…”
A figure, we were too far away to tell who it was, was shimmying down the drainpipe.
“That, we have to do something about,” Griswald said grudgingly. He stopped the car and said, “Hop out.”
I did as he said and was barely out of the vehicle when he floored the gas, racing toward the burglary suspect.
“And what am I supposed to do?” I yelled after the disappearing car.
“Isn’t that the motto of your life?” God asked, climbing up on my shoulder.
He wasn’t wrong.
31
I didn’t know whether Griswald had dropped me off because he was trying to keep me out of danger, or if I was supposed to provide some sort of backup. I watched as he slammed to a halt in front of the house. I could hear him shouting as he got out of his car at the burglary suspect. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the person did an incredible back flip off the wall and landed on their feet just a few yards away from him.
“Whoa,” God remarked. “Way to stick the landing.”
Apparently, Griswald was just as taken aback by the dismount, because he seemed to freeze as the suspect sprinted away.
“Oh no,” God groaned. “Not you running again.”
Ignoring him, I sprinted on a diagonal path to cut off the escape of the would-be thief.
“You have the stride of a thundering elephant,” God complained.
He wasn’t wrong.
The thief was so busy looking behind them to make sure that Griswald wasn’t catching up, that they didn’t see me coming toward them. You’d have thought my huffing and puffing would have given my approach away, but apparently, they had other things on their mind.
I had a split-second decision to make. Should I try to tackle them, or stop them with words?
I wasn’t feeling very confident in my tackling skills, and I wasn’t sure it was worth getting hurt for Mrs. Hallangen, so I went with the verbal option.
“Stop!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs.
I startled the thief so badly, that they tripped, stumbled, and fell to the ground. A square of white paper fell to the ground beside them.
“Don’t move,” I ordered.
“Why not?” God drawled sarcastically. “What are you going to do, yell at the poor person until they’re paralyzed with fear?”
I had the distinct urge to brush him off my shoulder and let him roll around in the pine needles on the ground, just to see what they would do to his sensitive skin.
The thief, breathing heavily, scrambled to their feet, but before they could get away, Griswald was there, gun and badge drawn.
“Stop,” he called. “U.S. Marshal.”
Slowly, the thief turned toward him.
“Take off the ski mask,” he ordered.
The suspect did as asked, and Griswald and I were surprised by the fact that the face that was revealed was that of a woman in her thirties.
“Who are you?” I blurted out.
“Laney,” she said.
“The daughter from the first marriage,” Griswald guessed.
She nodded.
“You’re in excellent shape,” I told her admiringly, bending over to pick up the square of paper that ended up being a photograph of an older man and a baby.
Griswald shot me a look, letting me know that that wasn’t the kind of comment that I should be making during this interrogation of a suspect.
I shrugged.
Mrs. Hallangen, alerted, probably, by Griswald’s shouting, came rushing out of the house.
Instinctively, I hid the photograph behind my back.
“Arrest her,” she shrilly demanded.
“My son deserves something of his grandfather’s,” Laney replied.
“Did you hear that?” Mrs. Hallangen asked. “She’s intent on robbing me.”
I was surprised when Griswald didn’t inform her that Laney had been in the midst of doing just that when we caught her. I followed his lead and kept my mouth shut.
“I just want--” Laney began, then, thinking better of it, closed her mouth, pressing her lips together tightly.
“Arrest her,” Mrs. Hallangen demanded again.
“I’m really not in a position to arrest anyone,” Griswald said, slowly putting away his gun and badge.
I watched Mrs. Hallangen stamp her feet in frustration. “You have to,” she told him.
He shook his head. “No, I’m not legally obligated to. As far as I know, she hasn’t done anything wrong.”
I raised my eyebrows at that. It wasn’t normal behavior to be shimmying down someone’s drainpipe, but still, I didn’t say anything, figuring that he must have some sort of plan.
“I’ll call the police,” Mrs. Hallangen threatened.
“That is your prerogative,” Griswald said. “Come on, Maggie, let’s go.”
He turned and walked away from Mrs. Hallangen, heading back to his car. After a split second, I followed, taking delight in the look of absolute frustration on Mrs. Hallangen’s face. I’d never liked her. I’d never liked this job. But I did like the fact that she appeared to be thwarted.
When we’d both gotten into Griswald’s car, he calmly put it into reverse and began to back up the driveway.
“What did she drop?” he asked, glancing at me. I’d surreptitiously slipped the photograph into the back pocket of my jeans. I pulled it out now, and held it for him to see.
“Of course,” he murmured.
“Of course, what?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
Laney was running toward the street, while Mrs. Hallangen stalked back toward her house.
“We would technically be witnesses,” I reminded him. “We did see her climbing down the drainpipe.”
“We most certainly could be questioned,” Griswald said mildly. “But I don’t think that she’s going to actually call the cops.”
“I’m so confused,” I admitted.
“I think
this was a test, Maggie,” he murmured.
“What kind of test?”
“One set up by our employer,” he said.
“Don’t!” God shouted suddenly.
I knew what he was warning me about. He had guessed, just as I was about to ask, that I wanted to know whether our new employer was Ms. Whitehat, of the shadowy organization that I sometimes do work for. I’d seen her and Griswald together, and that would explain their relationship. He’d also been very secretive about who we’d been working for this entire time.
“Why would they test us?” I asked carefully.
“Probably to see what we’d do in a gray situation,” Griswald said.
“This is a gray situation?” I asked.
“I think so,” he said. He pulled up alongside Laney, who was still jogging down the street. “Get in,” he urged. “We’ll get you out of the area before the cops show up.”
Panting, she looked at him incredulously.
“And we’ll give you back your son’s picture.”
Nodding, she climbed into the back seat. “How did you know?”
“Because families do weird things for each other,” he said mysteriously.
32
“I assume Laney is short for Madelaine?” Griswald asked our passenger.
“It is.”
“But that’s not what your father called you, is it?”
“No, he called me Maddy,” she said with a mixture of fondness and frustration.
“So, Maddy’s son,” Griswald said, sliding a sidelong glance at me to make sure that I was catching up.
I nodded my understanding.
“I don’t want any of my father’s estate for my boy. I just want a picture of my son and his grandfather together when he was a baby. Everything I had was lost in a house fire a few months ago and I want him to have something to remember him by.”
I handed the photograph over to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured gratefully. “Thank you for not giving it back to her. It would have no meaning for her, she was just being spiteful in not giving it to me.”
Griswald nodded.
“And is that why you stole the ashes?”
Madelaine/Laney shook her head. “What? I don’t know anything about any ashes.”
