Peggy sipped. “Lance. Lance Alexander.”
“That’s it,” said Roz with a nod.
“Anyway, his sister was there,” Peggy continued as she sat across from me. “She said Michelle was in intensive care in critical condition—a coma. They’re not sure she’ll live.”
We listened sorrowfully. The reality sunk in and we had nothing else to say. A clap of thunder rattled the walls. Rain drops spattered against the window in front of my kitchen table. Leaves and bits of tree branches flew every which way. The sky was black even though it was only nine o’clock in the morning.
“Ouch,” said Peggy. “Maybe my errands will have to wait.”
“So,” Roz asked, getting back to the Michelle story, “his sister is taking care of their kids while he’s at the hospital?”
“Well, she’s taking care of the kids, but she told me he was at the police station this morning.”
Roz stood. “You still have those shortbread cookies?”
“Counter, next to the toaster.”
She brought the box over. “Do you think he knew about the fight Michelle had with Bunny?”
“Bunny said something about Michelle and Lance being in counseling, remember that?” I nibbled on a cookie myself.
“If they’re having marriage troubles, she may not be talking to him.” Roz was dunking her cookies into her coffee.
“I wonder how bad their problems are.” Peggy looked like she might take a shortbread herself, then shook her head and continued. “Killing bad, maybe?”
Roz furrowed her brows. “You think it was Lance?”
“Just wondering is all.”
“I’m sticking with the Bunny theory. All signs point to Bunny with a gun, I’m sorry.”
A powerful flash of light was followed by a house-jolting clap of thunder, causing us all to jump.
But it wasn’t the thunder that made me drop my cookie and scream.
It was Bunny Bergen staring at us through my window, bathed in the lightning flash sopping wet and bug-eyed just like Sissy Spacek in Carrie.
Chapter Nine
ROZ RAN OUTSIDE, BUT RETURNED a minute later soaked and Bunny-less. “I don’t know how she could have disappeared that fast, but she did.” She dried herself with one of my kitchen hand towels. “Two vans just pulled up in your driveway. They must have scared her away.”
I met a man at the door. With a clipboard in his hand and scowl on his face, he informed me that “a Mr. Howard Marr” had called for a rental van. He didn’t look overjoyed to be delivering in downpour. I smiled and signed four different pages, initialed at least ten times on three more pages, and accepted the keys and instructions from him in return.
“A sign of true love,” I said returning to the table. “Now, if only my husband would make an appearance. To see how I’m doing maybe.” I dropped into my chair. “Back to Bunny. She’s gonzo up here.” I tapped a finger to my head. “I say she’s definitely homicidal.”
Peggy nodded. “I agree she’s a little pazzo.”
“We need to tell someone what we saw at the school last night, and we need to tell them now.”
Roz worked the towel through her blonde bob. “What do you suggest? You already told Howard.”
“He said it’s a police matter, so we go to the police.”
Roz finished drying and handed me the towel. “I have to get up to the school and check the PTA in-box.”
“And I have to get to the grocery store,” said Peggy. “We’re out of pasta.”
“I have to go to the school too. Let’s meet up afterwards. Where?”
“My house,” offered Peggy.
“So we meet up at Peggy’s house, then we’ll call the police and be done with it. I’ll feel better if I get this off my chest.”
“Okay,” agreed Roz. “I just hope we’re doing the right thing.”
“What could be the harm in it?” I asked rhetorically.
Weeks earlier I had signed on to volunteer in Bethany’s class for a Spring Fling gardening project. Given the circumstances, I wasn’t exactly in the Spring Fling mood, but I didn’t want to be the mom that backed out of a commitment, so I fixed my hair a little and threw on some makeup. As usual, there wasn’t an umbrella to be found in my house, so I had to step out uncovered.
As I locked my door to run out, already two minutes late for Spring Fling, Waldo appeared as if from thin air.
“Morning, Barbara.” He smiled and I winced. The man really needed a cosmetic dentist.
“How do you do that?”
“What?”
“Sneak up on people. You’re not there and suddenly you are there.”
“I hope I didn’t scare you again.”
“Truthfully? It is a little creepy.” I fumbled with the unfamiliar fob to unlock the rental van. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m late.”
“Did you get a new car?”
“This is a rental while mine is at . . . the mechanic.” I finally found the right button to unlock.
Luckily, he didn’t seem too interested in my car problems. “I was just out for an invigorating morning walk,” he said. “Get the blood flowing you know.”
While the heavy torrents had slowed to a steady but light spring shower, it still didn’t seem like an ideal day for a walk, invigorating or no. “Good. Have fun.” I pulled on the door handle and climbed in, but I didn’t get the door closed before he piped up.
“Did you hear about poor Shelly?”
Hmmm. I stopped. “Who’s that?”
“Shelly Alexander. In the hospital.”
“Yeah. I heard. Pretty awful.” I pulled the door a little closer. “But I’ve never heard anyone call her Shelly before.”
“No? My mistake. I thought she went by Shelly. Do you know what happened?”
“You don’t?”
Waldo shook his head.
“Me neither.” I closed the door, pulled my seat belt across, clicked and waved before starting the engine. Waldo returned the wave and moved aside while I backed out. Thankfully, I didn’t hit a single mother on my drive from home to the school.
The rain had picked up again by the time I nosed into an empty space in the school parking lot. My luck was changing for the better. Finding open spaces in the lot during a school day is less likely than winning a hundred million dollar lottery on February 29th. I used my jacket for cover so I wouldn’t be soaked by the time I reached the front doors. Halfway to the entrance, I met up with Shashi Kapoor. She had a golf umbrella and offered me half.
“I’m surprised to see you here today,” she said as I stepped under.
“Why?”
“I have friends in high places—benefit of being a crossing guard. I heard about thees accident last night.”
This was my worst fear. The Rustic Woods Rumor Mill was about to start churning at full speed. I felt sick to my stomach. “Ugh,” was all I could muster.
“Do not worry. Your secret, it is safe with me. Mum is the word. Do not be surprised when you walk in today, though.”
“What are they saying?”
“Most people know she is in hospital, very few people know how bad it is, and I do not think anyone knows why she is there.”
“Do you know . . . everything?”
“That she was shot before you hit her?” She nodded.
“What are your friends in high places saying?”
“My friends are not talking about suspects, if thees is what you mean. I’ll let you know if I hear more.”
Well, I thought, they probably didn’t have Bunny Bergen on their radar, but I’d make sure that changed real soon. We had reached the front door. A peek at my watch told me I was very late for the wet Spring Fling. “Thanks for sharing your umbrella and your information, Shashi.”
“Like I said, the benefits of being a crossing guard.” She turned around and headed to her cobalt Toyota sedan that had its own parking space right in front of the school. Another benefit of being a crossing guard.
> Hoping to avoid human contact, I kept my eyes on the floor as I headed to the volunteer sign-in at the front office. I just wanted to get into Bethany’s class, do my thing and get out. Breathing a sigh of relief when I found the receptionist chair empty, I scribbled my name quickly on the list and turned, ready for a quick get-away. Unfortunately, I ran right into Bunny Bergen’s buoyant bosom.
She didn’t look much better than when she shoved her spooky face in my window just two hours earlier. Her hair was still damp and pasted to her head and she wasn’t suited up in her usual Model Mom attire. Instead, her worn blue sweatpants hung on the droopy side and the olive green Gap sweatshirt didn’t even match. I was shocked. Who knew that Bunny owned a pair of sweatpants?
Our eyes met for only a second. I don’t know if she was pretending that she didn’t see me, or just embarrassed, but her gaze darted to the floor and she stepped around to the student sign-out log. She scribbled hurriedly then zipped back to the main hallway where teachers had escorted her two boys out to meet her. The trio was out of the building before I could say Holy Murderer-on-the-lamb Batman.
The Spring Fling had been postponed to a sunny day when planting would be a more enjoyable activity. The teacher asked me if I wouldn’t mind making some copies for her. Was I going to say “No” to a teacher? Certainly not, but making copies was as high on my list of fun things to do as scooping runny dung from the kitty litter box.
But in the copier room I ran into Roz.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said. “Did you see Bunny?”
“No, did you?”
“Can you believe it? In the office.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“She didn’t seem interested in talking. Thank goodness. She signed her boys out early.”
“Wonder what that’s all about.”
“She’s probably fleeing the country as we speak.”
“You’re being a little dramatic.” She changed the subject, most likely to keep me calm. “I tried to call Peggy a minute ago. She didn’t pick up at home or on her cell.”
“Maybe she was in line at the grocery store. I don’t pick up my phone if I’m shopping.”
“Maybe.” She looked at her watch. “It’s almost noon now. Should we just go over?”
I nodded. “When we’re done. Good news by the way—Shashi Kapoor says she’ll keep me up to date if she hears anything on the suspect front.”
“How would she know?”
“She says she has friends in high places. I think it’s that policeman who’s always hitting on her when she’s on crossing guard duty.” The copier stopped. “I’m going to take these copies back to Bethany’s teacher then head to Peggy’s.”
“I have to meet with the principal about this yearbook thing.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get there when I can.”
When I returned the copies to the teacher, she sweetly asked if I could staple them and staple into handy study packets. Any classroom volunteer knows that sorting and stapling is even more boring than copying, but what’s a good mother to do?
Two paper cuts and a stapling blister later, I stepped outside to dry sky. The drab gray clouds were breaking, and promising patches of azure shone through. When I pulled up to Peggy’s house a few minutes later, her entire street was bathed in sunlight, and I finally felt like smiling again. Her van was in the driveway. The Rubenstein’s house was a traditional brick front colonial, common in Rustic Woods, but it had a distinctly Peggy flavor. Most notably, the Italian tile plaque in her flower garden that welcomed guests - Benvenuti amici! I parked at the curb and crossed the lawn to the front stoop. I would have knocked on the glossy catsup-red door, but it was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open and hollered my usual, “Yoo hoo! Anybody home?”
No answer. I stepped in. We were good enough friends that I had no worries about entering her house without an invitation, but I didn’t want to scare her since I hadn’t called first. Roz had once and Peggy jumped her with a fireplace poker.
“Peggy? Are you here?” I walked through the living room to the family room. No sign of her. I yelled a little louder in case she was upstairs in her bedroom. “Peggy? It’s Barb!” Silence. Not a footstep. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed hers. One ring in my ear was followed by a chirp from the kitchen. Another ring, another chirp from the kitchen. I followed the chirping and located Peggy’s cell lying on her kitchen counter near the sink.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have worried, but the strong odor of gas gave me pause. Nausea set in. I yelled her name one more time before covering my mouth and nose with my hand. As I turned to the stove, my gaze fell on the refrigerator. A message was scrawled on a magnetic white board. A message written in blood.
Three words.
Ease his pain.
Chapter Ten
I THINK I RAN OUT the door, but I’m not sure. I might have teleported. All I remember is standing on Peggy’s front lawn talking to a 911 operator.
“I’m at 2121 Dogwood Blossom Court. My friend is missing and her house smells like gas,” I sputtered.
“Are you in the house?”
“No.”
“Is anyone else in the house?”
“No.”
The lady operator was calm and efficient. “Why do you think your friend is missing?”
“There was a note.”
“Where?” she asked.
“In the house.”
“But you’re not in the house, right?”
“No I’m not in the house, but I was in the house and now I’m not in the house and it smells like gas and Peggy isn’t here and there’s a note written in blood.” I was definitely babbling.
“I understand you’re upset,” she said. “But I need you to stay calm.”
“Why does this keep happening to me?”
She paused so long I thought I’d lost my connection. “This has happened before?”
“Not exactly. I mean no. Can you just send someone please?”
“I’ve already dispatched fire and police Ma’am. Would you like me to stay on the line until they arrive?”
“No.” I disconnected without thinking. Then I dialed Roz. Voicemail.
“Roz. Come to Peggy’s quick. Bad. It’s very bad.”
Disconnect. I dialed Howard. Voicemail. Damn!
I screamed to no one in particular. “Doesn’t anyone answer their phones anymore?” That’s when I noticed a gray and bent lady two houses down, sweeping her driveway and giving me queer looks. “Have you seen Peggy Rubenstein?” I shouted. The lady dropped her broom and ran into her house.
My head was pounding when the first police cruiser arrived followed by two fire trucks and three more cruisers. The street was alive with disaster. A police officer introduced himself and asked what the problem was.
“I came by to see my friend but she’s not here and the house smells like gas and there’s a note written in blood on the refrigerator. And I don’t know if this matters, but I hit a woman with my van last night. She’d already been shot three times at close range. Maybe it’s related. Maybe not.”
That probably wasn’t the best thing to say.
The officer cocked his head and took a silent beat. Finally he asked, “Are you Agent Marr’s wife?”
“Do you know Howard?”
“No, but we’ve heard of you. I mean, him.”
Just then a fireman loaded with equipment stepped up. Just my luck, it was stud muffin Russell Crow.
I cringed. “Me again.”
He acknowledged me, but was all business. “Where’s the problem?”
“She smelled gas in the house,” said the officer. “You said your friend is missing. Did you go through the whole house?”
I shook my head.
“We’ll check it out,” said Crow. He was off to save the world. Or at least to find a gas leak.
A second uniformed policeman joined us while the first asked more questions. “Where is the bloody note again?”
“On the refrigerat
or. It said, ‘Ease his pain’.”
A few questions later, Russell Crow gave the all clear for the police to enter. “No leak. The gas oven was on without a flame.”
My friendly cop told me to stay near the cruiser while they investigated. About that time I spotted a helicopter circling the neighborhood. Gawkers had started congregating on the sidewalks and in the street.
Suddenly someone was talking in my ear. “What’s this all about?”
I jumped a mile high. It was Waldo. Again. “Dammit!” I screamed. “Now you’re really starting to piss me off. You’re like Huggermugger Houdini.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Waldo, I’m not in the mood . . .”
He put a clammy hand on my shoulder. “Barbara, I can see you are tense and at times like this, sometimes we just need our space. I’m going to grant you that space. But just remember, I’m always here if you need me. Always.”
As he walked away, several policemen began putting up barriers—to keep out the riff raff, I guessed. Wish they had done that a few minutes earlier.
Seconds after the barriers were placed, Roz screeched up in her mini-van. No one was letting her past. I was about to beg the nearest police officer, but Colt appeared waving a badge and a smile and next thing I knew they were at my side.
I hugged Roz then turned to Colt. “How did you know I was here?”
“I stopped by your house and didn’t find you there. When I heard the Fairfax County Police helicopters, I decided to follow them. Figured you’d be close to the trouble if not the cause of it.”
I punched him in the arm. “I’m really scared. Peggy’s door was open, she’s not there, the oven was on without a flame and there’s a note written in blood on her refrigerator.”
Roz looked beside herself. “What did it say?”
“Ease his pain.”
“Where have I heard that before?” asked Colt.
I would have answered, but a different policeman stepped up with a tube of red liquid in his hands. He held it up for us to see. “We’re ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure your bloody note isn’t really blood. It looks like this is the medium.”
Citizen Insane (A Barbara Marr Murder Mystery #2) Page 8
