Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda

by Mary A Russell

  “I think they didn’t kill her, because every time a new body turns up, it becomes harder to explain the death. The FBI tracks murders in the United States, and when a town starts to turn up a lot of dead bodies, the FBI starts to look into the way the town is run or look at what’s going on in the town or who’s running it. They didn’t want the FBI sticking their noses in.”

  “Okay, so what you’re saying is it gets harder to explain all the deaths. It would be safer and much easier for them to paint her as a nut case. They made it look like she was someone who would see a conspiracy in every death that occurred in the town. Sad to say, I think she was right. They painted her with this incredible and complete picture of someone with mental illness. When they convinced everyone to believe their lies, they could ignore Lilly letting her have her rants and no one would believe what she said. By doing all of that, they had Lilly right where they wanted her and one less body to explain away.” Lee said.

  “I think you’re right, if all of the policemen she had to deal with were like that Sam Lowman, she had every reason to fear for her life.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Present Day

  “Everyone leaves tracks behind but Bert and Lilly left a super highway leading straight to the police department and the local government of Bridgetown,” Lee said.

  “You’re right. You expressed my same thoughts.” Miranda said.

  “When I stop to think about it, that’s a scary thought. For well over fifty years the people running this town have done whatever they wanted to do,” he said.

  “Stop reading my mind. That’s exactly what I was thinking. It makes us sound like an old married couple.”

  “It wouldn’t bother me to be married to you.”

  “Well, I had no idea you would think that way about me. I mean, you’re a man and I’m a woman, so I can understand you trying to get me into bed, but marriage? Well, that’s an area I wouldn’t think about, ever.”

  “Okay, I’m going to come right out and ask you this question that has bothered me about you since the day I arrived.”

  “Shoot. What’s the question? After all, they are only words and they can’t hurt you.”

  “Okay, here it is. Why are you so stand-offish? It’s as though you pull open a small slit of this heavy dark curtain you’re safely concealed behind. Keeping some big secret under wraps. On the rare occasions when your guard is down, you allow me a quick peek inside.” Lee paused, stood and started to pace.

  “You’re building a brick wall of protection from intruding questions that you either don’t know how to answer or don’t want to answer. It would seem that your years with the FBI have given you a new skill.”

  He could see her eyes narrow and turn icy as she watched him pace.

  “I remember a Miranda who would tell you anything no matter how it made you look or how it made you feel. I always admired that quality in you when you were young. Has life been that hard on you that you protect yourself by hiding your true feelings and emotions? I guess what I’m asking is, what changed you so much?”

  “You listen to me Mister. I can’t believe that you see me that way. My true friends don’t see me that way. Maybe because I’ve rejected your physical advances toward me you perceive that as putting up a wall. Talk about somebody changing. You better take a good look at yourself.”

  Lee stopped pacing and turned to look at her. He could see the fire in her eyes.

  “You used to encourage me in the weak and fragile places of my life, and look at you now. You do the opposite. Take a good look at your own life. I remember a guy who was fun and adventurous, a strong competitor. Not this stick in the mud man I see before me now.”

  She walked to where he was standing, and put her face an inch from his.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I always had a crush on you from the first day Joan introduced you to me as the new love of her life, and at that time in my life I could see no wrong in you until you took that job with that publishing company and started to ignore Joan.”

  Lee backed up a couple of inches. His mouth dropped open as he listened.

  “She came to visit me often because she was lonely for you. You’d be gone for weeks at a time.” Miranda stuck her face against his, while poking her finger into his chest. “The cancer didn’t kill Joan. She died from loneliness and a broken heart because you loved your job more than you loved her.”

  He backed up again falling onto the sofa. She continued to read him the riot act.

  “Now you want to make up for all those years of neglect by solving this murder case. I think it’s too little too late. Joan is gone and this, all this you’re doing now, won’t bring her back or change your past life with her.”

  Miranda paused, backed up and put her hands on her hips.

  “Lee, I may have been holding my feelings in check but it was only to avoid this conversation. But since we’re having it, that’s how I feel.”

  He got up, walked over to her, put his finger under her chin, and with a gentle nudge lifted her face toward him. He stood staring into her eyes as he started to reply.

  “Miranda, you continue to grind that into my mind. I live every day with the regret of my actions. The way I treated Joan was selfish and mean. I know that. I can’t change the way things were, but I can change the way I treat people in the future. You’re right. I’m doing this for Joan. When it’s finished I’ll move on with my life hopeful that in the end I will find love and happiness again.”

  Lee drifted away from Miranda and back to the sofa. When he sat down, her phone rang.

  “It sounds like my phone. I’ll get it. Hello, this is Miranda.”

  Lee was close enough to Miranda that he could hear the person talking on the line.

  “Hello, this is Duncan.”

  Lee watched her move from one foot to the other, as he listened to Miranda’s phone conversation.

  “Duncan, how are you? I miss you. Hope you can stop by and visit with me.”

  “How nice of you. You’re always such a darling. I miss you as well. I’m glad you said you’d like to see me. I was planning on a quick visit. I’ll only have a couple of minutes to spend with you. I should be at the mansion in let’s say fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll have strong dark coffee waiting for you.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you. Love you, girlie.”

  “Love you. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Duncan. What kind of name is that?” Lee said when she put away her phone. “Should I be worried? Who the heck is Duncan?”

  “Now wait a minute, Lee. Don’t let that trivial exchange fool you. Duncan works with me on investigations and research. That’s as far it goes.”

  “Oh, I thought it was something more.”

  “No, it’s not.” Miranda shot an icy look in his direction.

  “Okay, okay, I get the message. Duncan is a friend who works on research with you.”

  “Duncan is an old friend whom I became acquainted with about twenty-five years ago while working on an investigation of stolen manuscripts from a major museum in New York. He’s eccentric and a furiously loyal friend. He has a broad base of information and contacts that you can’t begin to fathom.”

  “What kind of guy is he?”

  “The best way to describe Duncan is he’s pretty much a loner. His parents thought they wanted a child, but in reality they weren’t ready to meet the needs of one, so Duncan suffered for their selfishness. He was a rich kid raised by a nanny. His parents gave him things to make up for their neglect.

  I’m like the sister he never had. He surrounds himself with things and avoids people as much as possible.” She paused taking a seat on the sofa.

  “I’ve often consulted him for his knowledge of ancient history, lore and the store of information he’s collected on just about anything you can think of. He has one of the largest libraries of rare books concerning ancient and modern history, his artifact collection rivals any museum.” By this time she was straighte
ning up the living room as she talked.

  “Duncan lives in Williamsburg, Virginia. Many an adversary has misjudged him because of his lifestyle.” She picked up a book and placed in the center of the coffee table.

  “Duncan likes to cook, but has a chef because he likes to eat fine food and drink fine wine. He doesn’t have any pets, but he should. It would be good for him. I guess he’s like a character out of book, but you’ll love him. He’s a lot of fun, and when he gets to know you, he’s a friend for life who will go to any length to help you. We can all use one of them in our lives.”

  Lee was standing in the living room looking out on the driveway, as she finished with the room.

  “I’ll be right back. I’m going up to my bedroom to change my clothes,” she said.

  Lee watched as a dark blue Bentley wove its way up the tree-lined drive. This guy even had a chauffeur. The car stopped in front of the house, the chauffeur got out, and opened the back door.

  “Is he here yet?” Miranda asked. She finished stuffing her designer shirt into her designer blue jeans as she made her way to the front door.

  “He pulled up a second ago and is getting out of the car now.”

  Miranda opened the door and held out her arms.

  “Welcome, Duncan.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him planting a peck on his cheek.

  “Miranda, darling, how good to see you again.” He wrapped his long arms around her slim waist, pulling his six-foot-six frame against her slim physique and hugged her. He planted a kiss on her cheek and flashed a grin at Lee, showing a set of perfect white teeth. His dark tan told Lee that Duncan either spent a lot of time on the beaches or he spent a lot time in a tanning booth. Duncan pulled off his overcoat and placed it over Miranda’s outstretched arm.

  “You’re a dear, Miranda. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  Lee moved to the door.

  “Duncan, this is Lee Perkins, a long-time friend.”

  “Oh, are you Joan’s husband?”

  Duncan reached out with a monster-size hand and grabbed Lee’s normal man hand and squeezed it while giving it a good hard shake.

  “Yes, I am.” Lee shot a questioning look at Miranda.

  “Miranda has told me so much about you and Joan. I feel like I know you so well, even though I had never met you. I was sorry to hear of her passing. You’ve my deepest sympathy. It must have devastated you.”

  “Yes, it did, and I’m doing fine now. Thank you, Duncan, for you kind expression.” Lee looked at Miranda and smiled. “Hey, Kid, don’t you know any short men?”

  Miranda smiled and winked at Lee with a twinkle in her eyes as her face lit up like a candle.

  “Don’t be silly. Of course I know some short men. They just don’t happen to be visiting me this week.”

  “Lee, it’s swell to meet you,” Duncan said. “Any friend of Miranda’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Oh no, Duncan, the pleasure belongs to me. Miranda has spoken of you and had wonderful things to say about you.”

  Miranda led them inside. “Come in, Duncan. Let’s go into the kitchen. I know that’s your favorite room.”

  “Yum, I can smell Espresso. Such a wonderful aroma.”

  “I like the smell,” Miranda said, “more than I do the taste. I was never able to develop a taste for espresso.”

  “I see you put out your best china,” Duncan said.

  Miranda shot a look at Lee, as she said, “just for you. I know you don’t like to drink coffee from a mug.”

  “Miranda, please put my coffee in a mug,” Lee said.

  “So, what brings you out to this part of the country?” Miranda asked.

  “I’ll get to that in a moment, dear. Hum, the aroma is to die for. Well, Miranda darling, I’ve only allowed myself a half hour for this visit, so I must get to the reason I’m here.”

  “I thought you stopped by to visit me,” Miranda said. “By the way, Duncan, I’ve found the book you said you were looking for in a bookstore in Boston.”

  Duncan twisted his head and looked at Miranda with a question in his eyes, and after a couple of seconds he said, “Oh, you mean the 1784 edition of the Cook’s Pacific voyages of the Sandwich Islands.”

  “Yes, it’s the French edition, and I got it at a great price—eight hundred dollars. But I don’t want any money for it. Consider it a gift from me. I owe you much more than I could ever repay.”

  “Thank you, Miranda, that’s so sweet. But you don’t owe me anything. I insist on paying for it because I may want to you find another book for me and I won’t feel I could ask you if you don’t take my money. Please, dear. You’re like the little sister I never had.”

  Lee watched as Duncan pulled a long, slim wallet from his shirt pocket, counted out eight one-hundred-dollar bills, and laid them on the kitchen counter. With his big hand he slid them in Miranda’s direction.

  “Thank you, Duncan. That’s nice of you. And I will keep my eyes peeled for any books you ask me to look for.”

  Lee studied Duncan as he interacted with Miranda, sizing this guy up, trying to decide if he was a threat. He wasn’t going to give up on Miranda. He didn’t care what she said, and after ten minutes he decided he didn’t have anything to be concerned about between Duncan and Miranda. Even after Miranda’s total rejection earlier, he wasn’t discouraged.

  “I noticed the ad you and Lee are running in the Bridgetown Mirror newspaper regarding the writing project you two are working on.”

  “Wait, stop, Duncan. You read the Bridgetown Mirror?”

  “You bet I do. I’ve had a subscription to that paper for twenty years. How else could I keep up with Miranda’s and Bridgetown’s goings on?”

  “Duncan, I’m glad you said that, because we’ve run into a few snags getting some information we’re looking for.” She said.

  “What information are you trying to get?”

  Lee told Duncan the story about the teacher who said a boy came into his class telling how his uncle came home covered in blood wanting the boy’s mom and dad to give him money because he had to get out of town that night. Miranda told Duncan she contacted the school but couldn’t get the roster for that class to see what the boy’s last names where.

  “So now we’re trying other avenues to get the information,” Lee said.

  “I may have the resources to help with that. I’ll give you a call later or I’ll have someone give you the information,” Duncan said as he took a sip of coffee.

  “Anyway, back to what I was saying. After talking with you on the phone about the letters, Miranda, I searched through the newspapers on the computer website. I came up with some information that seemed too buried where the police hoped it wouldn’t be noticed,” Duncan said, as he uncrossed his legs.

  “Someone must have put pressure on the police to place another composite picture in the papers a year after the murder. In my way of thinking, if I didn’t want anyone to notice it, I would wait a year and place it in the paper, and have the paper bury it in the back pages.” Duncan paused and winked at Miranda.

  “I said all that to say I think I came up with something that not many people are aware of or who paid any attention to. I came up with a second composite picture of a man who they say left the hot dog dinner with Bert Grayson the night of the murder.”

  Duncan slipped his hand into his shirt pocket and came out with his leather wallet again. This time instead of money he took out a white folded paper. He handed it to Miranda. She looked at it and handed it to Lee.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen this picture,” Miranda said. “He looks familiar, but I don’t know why. Does the picture ring a bell with you, Lee?”

  Just as Lee was about to answer, Duncan interrupted them.

  “Miranda, thank you so much for the coffee. It was incredible, just like you are, dear.”

  Duncan stood from his chair, smiled at Miranda, then stuck out his hand to shake Lee’s. Lee looked him in the eye and shook his hand.

&nbs
p; “Lee, it was a pleasure to meet you. You and Miranda make a perfect couple. Miranda, I see why you like this guy. Stop and see me when you’re in my end of the country. You’re always welcome.”

  Miranda brought Duncan his overcoat and watched him as he put it on.

  “I’ll miss you, Duncan. Hurry back to see me.”

  “Duncan, it was great to meet you, Miranda is lucky to have a friend like you.”

  Duncan turned around and looked at Miranda, then reached out his big paws, scooped her up in his arms, and hugged her tight for a couple of seconds.

  “I’ll miss you as well, sweetie.”

  Duncan hurried down the porch steps and into his waiting blue car.

  Miranda and I stood at the opened door and watched as Duncan’s Bentley wove its way down the tree-lined driveway, passed through the tall gates, and merged into the traffic flowing south.

  After closing the door they turned around and walked back into the kitchen. Lee walked over and picked up the composite picture.

  “Why does he look so familiar?” And why doesn’t it look anything like the other composite picture?”

  Lee stood at the kitchen counter with his hands on my hips.

  “What are you thinking, Lee?”

  Lee was about to speak when his phone jingled.

  “Hello, this is Lee.”

  “This is Rose May from the Bridgetown School offices. I have the information you said you were wanting. It’s the school log of the children who attended the fifth-grade class in February 1962. If you could give me a fax number, I’ll be glad to fax it to you.” Miranda scribbled down the fax number and handed it to Lee.

  Lee read her the number. “Thank you so much for that information.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sending it now. Lee, I hope you have a great day and I’m glad I could help. If you need anything else, please call me.”

  Miranda’s fax machine started to spit out paper. They had the list.

  “Lee, do you think they got a call from Duncan? What could he have said to make them change their minds?”