by Sandra Balzo
‘Yes, ma’am. Uh, if it matters, the cars weren’t locked.’
‘It doesn’t,’ I said flatly. ‘They are someone else’s cars, sitting on someone else’s property. Speaking of other people’s property, did you go back to The Bible Store and steal a book?’
Oliver didn’t answer.
‘Oliver.’ I knew there was an ominous warning tone in my voice. I’d practiced it on Eric for years.
Oliver squirmed. ‘Mrs G. She’s been so sad. I thought maybe the Bible stories would make her feel better.’
That didn’t excuse it, of course, but he didn’t steal something for himself, like...
‘You hid it behind the magazines in the book rack, didn’t you?’ I said, remembering the scene at Goddard’s. ‘I thought you’d taken a dirty book to the bathroom.’
‘Uh-uh,’ Oliver said. ‘It was later when I took the dirty magazine.’
Eric laughed. I squeezed his head.
‘Did you steal anything else from The Bible Store, Oliver?
‘Nah. I think Petey would have, but there was just coins in the cash register. Sales must not be good.’
Small wonder. It was like setting up a salt lick in Sodom and Gomorrah.
‘What about your dad’s office? One of the drawers was forced. What did you take from there?’
‘My dad’s office? Nothing, we...ohhhh...’
‘What?’ I squeezed Oliver’s head this time.
‘I just went in there to see if I could find out what was happening with the mall. The drawer was already broken, which is why my dad only kept the phone book in it. And I didn’t break in, honestly. I had a key.’
I didn’t point out that they’d also had a key for The Bible Store. It just had been a stolen key.
A tap on my shoulder.
‘The cavalry’s coming,’ Sarah’s voice said.
We broke the huddle. As I turned, I heard a rumble.
A snowplow, cutting a swath. Behind the plow was a fire truck and, behind that, a county sheriff’s squad car.
‘Poor Aurora,’ I said to Jake Pavlik that afternoon.
Finally, we were sitting on the floor, our backs against the couch in front of my oversized fireplace. My economy-sized sheepdog was lying next to me. My gay son had gone out to help clear sidewalks and driveways for people who couldn’t do it themselves.
‘Wrong place, wrong time,’ Pavlik said nodding.
‘Plus, wrong coat,’ I said. Aurora’s murder had been a case of mistaken identity, just as Naomi Verdeaux had thought. ‘Naomi suspected Oliver, not Rudy.’
‘Which probably cost Verdeaux her life. Rudy confessed to everything, by the way,’ Pavlik said. ‘I never liked the guy, but I sure didn’t put him down as a killer.’
‘His sin was pride,’ I said. ‘It goeth before a fall.’
Pavlik ran his finger along my jaw line. ‘Well, I’m proud of you. You realized that Rudy was the murderer when you saw him with Verdeaux?’
‘Before that,’ I said, feeling a little smug and nicely snug. I had Pavlik to the right of me and his jacket to the left. ‘I tumbled to it when I thought about the generator.’
‘The generator?’ Pavlik looked puzzled.
‘And the big meat cleaver, which Caron and I both mistook for a shovel handle.’
‘Soooo...?’ Pavlik knew I was being cryptic on purpose. He hated cryptic.
I, on the other hand, sort of liked the idea of Pavlik hanging on my every word.
Hanging on me was even better. I snuggled in deeper, resting my head on his chest. ‘So Caron told me she thought there was a snow shovel outside the back door. She wanted me to clear the walks.’
Pavlik grinned. ‘Lost cause, I assume?’
‘Definitely.’ I sat up and turned toward him. ‘In fact, it was so distasteful that I put it out of my mind.’
‘Until...’ Pavlik’s patience was wearing thin. Getting dog-eared, even.
I patted Frank. ‘Until I realized that if Caron saw the “shovel”, Way had to already be dead.’
Pavlik just gave me the eye this time and waited.
‘Don’t you see? Rudy came into Uncommon Grounds after the electricity went out, after Caron saw “the shovel”. He said that Way had started the generator.’
Pavlik nodded slowly. ‘Which he couldn’t have.’
I nodded eagerly. ‘Since he had a meat cleaver/shovel sticking out of him. It was Rudy who started the generator after he killed Way. He claimed Way did it to make us think he was still alive.’
‘And gave himself an alibi at the same time,’ Pavlik said thoughtfully. ‘Good thinking.’
‘Me? Or Rudy?’
Pavlik was no fool. ‘You, of course.’
He smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. Then they darkened. ‘I’m afraid the strip mall is in bad shape,’ Pavlik said softly. ‘You’ll likely have to move.’
‘I know.’ A few seconds of silence.
‘That’s OK, though,’ I said finally.
Frank put his big furry head against me and pushed, his sign he had to go out.
I got up. ‘We’ll all be OK. Maybe Mrs G and Oliver and Tien and Luc and I can start our own strip mall.’
‘Thinking of becoming a real-estate magnate now?’ Pavlik asked as I followed Frank to the door.
‘Sarah wants in, too,’ I said over my shoulder as I escorted the sheepdog out. ‘We’ll see, though. I think Oliver is going to be OK. He’s going to live with Mrs G.’
‘That’s good,’ Pavlik said. ‘He’s not a bad kid.’
‘Nope. He’s just...a kid.’ I glanced back at Pavlik, still sitting by the fire. I guess I wanted him to tell me he knew what Oliver had been up to and that he understood why I was keeping it to myself.
I knew it wasn’t going to happen. If Pavlik was aware that Oliver had broken the law, he would be honor-bound to do something about it. Anything else would be...unPavlik. And probably grounds for some sort of horrible legal action.
I wasn’t about to put Pavlik in that position. But I also couldn’t bear to turn in Oliver, who was an orphan in fact long before he became an orphan in name.
Oliver deserved a second chance. And if lying to Pavlik, who I hoped was the love of my life, was the price I had to pay to give Oliver that second chance in his, I was willing to pay it.
But, believe me, Oliver was going to pay a price, too.
I’d told Mrs G everything. She’d already given Luc the gun, which freed her up to grab Oliver by the ear.
Wincing he’d said, ‘This is what you and Eric meant by normal, right?’
‘Tough love,’ I admitted. ‘If she rips it off, though, let me know.’
Mrs G laughed. Then she cried. Then Oliver cried.
They were going to be OK.
As I watched Frank sniff around the yard, I felt myself relax. The sun was shining and the snow was sliding off the roof in mini-avalanches. The drip-drip-drip of the melting snow on the bushes was the only sound.
Suddenly, a ‘whoosh’. A snowplow passing, pushing the snow and slush off the road and into my driveway. I hadn’t cleared it, since I figured the snow would be melted by tomorrow.
And if Petey came by...
I couldn’t let the delinquent escalate his bad behavior. On the other hand, ratting him out would mean blowing the whistle on Oliver, as well.
I planned to sit down with Petey’s parents and tell them what he’d done, including knocking me down. Maybe that would work and maybe it wouldn’t. In Brookhills, corporal punishment meant taking the car keys away for a week.
Either way, I intended to keep track of Petey. And I was going to inform him I'd be watching. If he made one wrong step, I’d go to the police and tell them everything.
Having made his inspection round, Frank settled on the new sugar maple I’d planted in the middle of the back yard. As he lifted his leg, a plotch of snow from the branches landed splat on his head.
The young tree had taken a beating from the heavy snow, but already it was springi
ng back.
Bent but not broken. The young are like that.
