Bad Blood (Maggie Ryan Book 8)

by P. M. Carlson

  “And John did pretty well too,” agreed Mrs. Gallagher. “He dated Lucille Barrow for almost a year. But he said she wasn’t serious enough for him.”

  “Serious?” asked Rina.

  “You young people may laugh,” said Marie Deaver tolerantly, “but romantic feelings don’t retire magically at age sixty-five, you know.”

  “Oh, Marie, don’t exaggerate!” Delores Gallagher adjusted her emerald sweater self-consciously. “John did say that if the right person turned up he might be interested in marriage again. But he didn’t expect it. Who would at our age? He was friendly, that’s all. He used to have a sailboat, before his wife became ill. He said he’d rent one someday and take me out.” She gave a little sob and then looked astonished at herself.

  “He must have been pretty well-off once,” said Aggie Lyons. “Was John Spencer a businessman?”

  “An accountant. He said he was pretty well set for retirement before his wife became ill.”

  “Just like my Mike,” said Mamma softly.

  Delores nodded sadly. “John told me once that her death took him completely by surprise, even though she’d been ill so long. He was always sure he’d die first.”

  “Where was he living?” asked Aggie.

  “His house was in Arlington, but he had to sell that. He was rooming with one of our church families here. The Jenkinses. Just a little inexpensive room with kitchenette. They brought him along to the church suppers. He said he loved the home cooking. Always had a compliment for every dish.”

  “He did love good food,” said Mamma with approval. “Asked so many questions about where I got my Italian cheeses and sausages.”

  “And he even remembered meeting Marie in the grocery,” said Delores.

  “Oh, yes, I met him in the Eastland grocery checkout line once. So it was amusing to meet again at the bridge party.”

  Aggie said, “Mrs. Gallagher, you drove him home the night he was killed. Did he give any hint of what he might be doing later?”

  “Oh, I’ve thought and thought,” said Mrs. Gallagher. “I guess I was the last one to see him that the police know about. But he hardly said anything about himself. We just talked about things in general.”

  “You talked about us, I imagine,” said Mrs. Deaver, amused. Mrs. Gallagher reddened a little.

  “Well, he was naturally interested. We’d just been with you. It wasn’t gossip, really, he just wanted to know where you lived, where I lived. And he said how impressed he was with both you and Leonora, what nice friends I had.”

  Rina didn’t dare ask if he’d mentioned Ginny.

  “Did he say anything about going to the library?” asked the reporter.

  “No, nothing.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the library,” said Mamma. “Wondering why they found him there.”

  “Yes, I’ve been wondering that too,” said Aggie Lyons.

  “Well, you know they found him in those bushes by the turn in the drive, just before you get to the book drop. The street is lit, and the book drop is lit, but that turn is very dark. Dark before seven these days.”

  “That’s true,” said Mrs. Gallagher.

  “Well, it could have happened right there,” said Mamma. “But even if it didn’t, it would be a good place to get rid of something. If your car was going slowly, everyone would just think you were dropping off your books. And he was found on the passenger side of the driveway. The book drop is on the driver’s side.”

  “I see,” said the reporter. “Just open the passenger door, kick the body out into the bushes, close the door, and drive on past the book drop. Then on to establish an alibi, only a few seconds late.”

  Marie Deaver shuddered. Delores Gallagher exclaimed, “What a horrible thought!”

  “It’s a horrible thought, no matter where it was done,” said Mamma. “But Miss Lyons is right, no one could see you there, unless they were right behind you. And it’s hardly ever that busy.”

  “So you think he was killed somewhere else, and just brought there by car,” Aggie Lyons said.

  “Well, there’s no reason he’d be walking there.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Couldn’t he walk to the library that way?”

  “No,” said Rina eagerly. Mamma was onto something. “I mean, he could, but the sidewalk is on the driver’s side. Why would he be walking where there’s no sidewalk? So it must be someone with a car!” Surely the police would see the logic. Ginny didn’t drive yet, had no car!

  “Well,” said Aggie, “perhaps someone forced him to walk there. Or used a friend’s car. A couple of young thugs wouldn’t have any trouble, dead or alive, car or no car.”

  Rina felt deflated. Just when Mamma had produced a bit of reasoning that pointed away from Ginny, that Aggie Lyons thought of a way she could have done it after all, or could have helped Buck do it.

  Aggie Lyonsknew that Ginny’s scissors had been used. That’s why she thought Ginny had been involved. Rina had figured out what must have happened, though of course she couldn’t say so here because she mustn’t let anyone else know about the scissors. Ginny must have taken the scissors with her to the library for some reason. She’d probably put her backpack down, and the murderer had passed by and stolen them. Rina shuddered.

  But this reporter didn’t know Ginny, didn’t know that the scissors must have been stolen from her. She thought Ginny could have done it. Or could have helped Buck do it. Buck, who had gone to the library to find her.

  He hadn’t found her.

  Well, hesaid he hadn’t found her.

  “Young thugs,” Aggie Lyons had said. Rina’s fist clenched. It was clear that the reporter thought she knew who the young thugs were. In a minute she’d probably be telling them all that Ginny had done it.

  But to Rina’s relief she veered off in another direction. “What about this Lucille Barrow? Could she have been jealous?”

  “Lucille?” Mrs. Gallagher stared at the reporter, astounded. “No, of course not! You know Lucille, Marie. Isn’t the idea ridiculous?”

  “I would say so. It’s hard to see Lucille doing such a thing. Of course people surprise you sometimes.”

  “Mrs. Gallagher, may I use your bathroom?” Aggie Lyons asked.

  “Oh, of course! It’s at the end of the hall.” Mrs. Gallagher pointed. “There’s more coffee, everyone. Who wants some? And I’ll bring in the cookies.”

  Rina took advantage of the reporter’s absence to ask, “Did anyone hear Ginny say anything about going away? Visiting anyone?”

  “We hardly saw her,” said Marie Deaver sympathetically.

  Delores Gallagher, pouring coffee, frowned. “She wasn’t very talkative. She came in for the cat, and ran after it, and that was all. Except for—well, you know.”

  “I just hoped she might have hinted something,” Rina said.

  “You talked to her longer than any of us,” Delores said.

  “But I thought maybe, if we compared notes, one of us might remember something.”

  “Good idea,” said Aggie behind Rina, back already. She was carrying a big book as she sat down again on the sofa. “If we go over exactly what happened at that bridge game, someone might also remember a comment from Mr. Spencer that might throw light on what he planned later.”

  Oh, hell. Rina’s worst fears were coming true. She sat rigidly on guard, but soon found herself listening avidly while the reporter led them through a careful account of the bridge game, the comments to each other, everything Mr. Spencer had said and done. They soon came to the argument between Mamma and Ginny over Kakiy. Rina’s hands clenched in her lap. She was sharply aware of Aggie Lyons across from her. Mamma’s story was quite fair; she admitted to losing her temper at the cat and regretting it instantly, and loyally refused to say anything against Ginny. It was Delores Gallagher who blundered and began to tell of Ginny’s shouted insults to her grandmother and Mr. Spencer.

  Rina broke in hastily. “Mrs. Gallagher, you know she thinks the world of that
cat.”

  Mrs. Gallagher suddenly took the point and looked anxiously at Aggie Lyons. “Yes. That’s right.”

  Marie Deaver’s knobby hand gestured for caution. “Rina, you’re trying to defend your daughter, I know. But it might be better at this point to let Delores tell us exactly what Ginny said, rather than leave it to Miss Lyons’s imagination.”

  “I don’t write from my imagination,” Aggie protested gently.

  But Rina understood what Mrs. Deaver meant. “She’s right, Mrs. Gallagher. Please tell us,” she said wearily.

  Mrs. Gallagher, still upset, mumbled, “Well, you know how young people are. She just said Leonora was, um, an old, um—”

  “Bitch,” supplied Mrs. Deaver helpfully.

  “Yes. And then when Mr. Spencer said she shouldn’t speak to her grandmother that way, she said he was an old, um, fart.”

  “Well, that’s rude, all right,” said the reporter, with an apologetic smile at Rina. “But not completely surprising if the cat was hurt.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt the creature,” Mamma said remorsefully. “Just scare it away. I was just so annoyed, I aimed too close.”

  “I know. And Ginny gets committed to people, or pets, and she’s very loyal,” Rina explained earnestly.

  Aggie nodded and turned back to the others. “What did Mr. Spencer say then?”

  They went through the rest of the bridge game and everything Mr. Spencer had said and done. But Rina heard nothing new. This had all been a waste. She had hoped for more, a comment or a hint of some type about where Ginny was thinking of going.

  “Mrs. Marshall?”

  “What?” She looked up, startled. Apparently the reporter had asked her a question. “I’m sorry. What was that again?”

  “We were just talking about Buck Landon, and how he pushed his way in and went to your daughter’s room. Your mother said you went back to the room and met him coming out.”

  “Yes. He’s an impetuous boy. He was looking for her.”

  “Is he always that pushy?”

  “He wasn’t pushy, exactly. Just eager to find Ginny.”

  “Well, he certainly insulted Mr. Spencer,” said Delores Gallagher indignantly.

  “Did Mr. Spencer say anything about Buck as you drove him home?” Aggie asked.

  “Yes, well, you see, he said he thought Rina was nice, and Leonora was nice, and he said teenagers these days were so hard to predict, even when they came from the best families.”

  Rina froze her face into friendly lines. She couldn’t let this babble give away the secret Ginny so desperately wanted to keep! She said, “What did he say about Buck?”

  Delores Gallagher looked away. “Well, John knew what a good doctor Dr. Landon is, and then his son acting like that—” Delores looked at Rina with a little frown. “I do have to agree, Rina. Why do you allow Ginny to date him?”

  “Didn’t you ever have any problems with Berta?” asked Rina tightly. “Mamma said she had to go away one summer.”

  “Well, that wasn’t the same thing at all!” Delores flushed. “She had trouble with her science course, that’s all, and we sent her to math camp, to nip it in the bud. And she did get into the University of Maryland!”

  “Did you and Mr. Spencer talk about your children?” asked Aggie Lyons.

  “Well, he always asks about them. I told him they were doing well. Tom is assistant manager now. And Berta’s husband is principal of his school. And of course little Donnie is just precious. I’m surehe won’t be a rude teenager!”

  “Now, Delores, they were both upset,” said Marie Deaver in a soothing tone.

  “It’s strange,” said Aggie thoughtfully. “We always tell youngsters to be polite, but we often aren’t very polite to them. When I was a teenager I used to give back all kinds of impudence.”

  Mamma was nodding. “Yes, you know, I was thinking about that. It’s so hard to realize that they are nearly adults. And they do act like children sometimes, but then we all do, sometimes.”

  “Yes. We were as giggly as teenagers ourselves during that bridge game,” said Mrs. Deaver, smiling. “We were all flirting with John, and he with us.”

  “Oh, Marie!” Delores Gallagher had turned rosy-red. “We were just having fun!”

  “We were flirting,” maintained Mrs. Deaver firmly. “Of course it was fun. Making him feel attractive and special. And why not? Aren’t you glad you helped make his last hours happy ones?”

  “But don’t exaggerate, Marie! We were just making harmless little jokes. He was just friendly. Why, Donald Jenkins was saying only yesterday that he was an ideal roomer, always with a friendly word. We weren’t flirting, Marie.” She cast a worried glance at Aggie Lyons, whose thoughtful gaze was on her.

  Marie Deaver, amused, said, “Have it your way, Delores.”

  “Well, what is Aggie going to think of us?”

  The reporter grinned. “I’m going to think that you’re like most of the people I know. You like to get together with your friends and kid around a little.” Mrs. Gallagher looked relieved until Aggie added, “Would you marry again if the right person came along?”

  “Why, what do you mean?” exclaimed Mrs. Gallagher, flustered.

  Mamma joined in firmly. “Don’t be silly, Delores. Of course we would. If it was the right man, as Aggie said.”

  Rina stared at her mother in amazement.

  “Well, I hadn’t thought about it,” insisted Mrs. Gallagher.

  “Oh, I think you have,” said Marie Deaver. “I’ve thought about it, Delores, and I’ve decided I value my independence too much. But it still is a very appealing idea. Having a man to take you to a movie or a concert, or to call the plumber, or just to bring you a cup of tea when you have a cold.”

  “That’s right,” said Mamma. “Be honest, Delores. It’s your children you’re worried about, isn’t it? Berta and Tom would be shocked, you think.”

  “Well, they would! And the school board! So I don’t think about it.”

  “Well, I do!” declared Mamma. “It’s all right for Marie, Frank left her pretty well set. Independent, as she says.”

  “There are still expenses,” said Marie.

  “Of course,” admitted Mamma. “But leave Marie aside. You and I, Delores, we’re having a little trouble with our independence, aren’t we? It’s hard to have independence on our little incomes. A husband who could add his own little income would help in a lot of ways.”

  Rina, who had been listening in fascination, suddenly recalled that a reporter had been listening too. It was time to call this off.

  “Mamma—”

  “Oh, well, let’s talk about something else,” said Delores at the same moment. She had remembered too.

  “But—” said Mamma.

  Rina stood up decisively. “Mamma, really, we’d better be going.”

  “Oh, no!” Delores Gallagher was horrified. “I haven’t even brought out the cookies yet!”

  “I’m sorry,” said Rina firmly. “We do have to go back. Come on, Mamma.” She was annoyed at herself for having left home for so long. Ginny had said she wouldn’t call again for a while. But what if she’d changed her mind? This whole afternoon had been a wild-goose chase, and Rina had learned nothing of value, and that reporter had learned too much.

  Aggie Lyons was standing now also. “I’d better zip off too,” she said. “I’d like to thank everyone for letting me talk to you.”

  “Oh, of course.” Delores was beaming. “But I’ve been so busy talking, I forgot to bring out the cookies. I want you to stay for some.”

  “Oh, thank you, no.” The reporter pulled something from her bag and moved, quick as a bird, to the side of the room. “Just one more favor. Say cheese.” And the four of them were caught in the flash as they looked at her, startled. She dropped the camera back into the big bag, explaining rapidly as protest sprang into their faces, “I need a snapshot to jog my memory of who you all are, because I talk to so many people each day. If the magazine nee
ds photos, our photographer will get in touch and we’ll have a regular photo session. We probably won’t need any more, actually, but it would help to have one of Mr. Spencer. Do you have a photo of him in your album, Mrs. Gallagher?” She indicated the book she had brought from the back hall and left on the sofa.

  “Oh, yes, here.” Delores fumbled through the pages. How could she still be so cooperative, Rina thought? The gall of this reporter! But Delores was pointing things out eagerly. “It’s right in here somewhere. There’s my Tom. There’s Leonora at Easter. Oh, there’s Berta with little Donnie, my grandson.”

  “He’s a darling.” Aggie Lyons beamed at the photo. “Is that stiff fellow Berta’s husband?”

  “Yes. He’s nice, really, he just has to wear a suit all the time. Berta says they all have to watch themselves. Can’t even go to the grocery in curlers for fear she’ll meet a school board member.”

  Aggie grinned. “Nothing scarier than a school board member.”

  “Let’s see, John Spencer—” Delores Gallagher flipped hastily through the pages. “Oh, here it is! Just these two snapshots.”

  “Wonderful! Let me borrow this one, all right?”

  “Well …”

  “I’ll get it back to you within two days. Thank you!” Aggie dropped the photo into her bag.

  Rina had had enough. She strode to the front closet. Suddenly Aggie Lyons was next to her in the entry hall.

  Mrs. Gallagher urged, “Rina, Aggie, do stay! I didn’t serve the cookies yet!”

  “Thank you, no. Come on, Mamma,” said Rina in a tight voice.

  “We should stay,cara,” said Mamma, who hadn’t budged from her chair. “We haven’t discussed the memorial yet.”

  “Oh, Mamma, really, we must go!”

  “Nonsense,” said Aggie Lyons briskly. “You want to leave, so I’ll drop you off, Mrs. Marshall. Let your mother stay.”

  “Oh, no!” said Rina, appalled. It was the last thing she wanted. But the logic of the solution appealed to the others.

  “Are you sure it’s no trouble?” Mamma asked the reporter.

  “None at all.”

  “Well, I wish you would both stay,” said Mrs. Gallagher, who nevertheless bustled to the coat closet and handed out the furry white coat. Aggie Lyons shrugged it on.