When she'd gone away to Boston for her first year of college, Mary called every week and sent care packages. Polly's dad was always involved, but she knew he was busy running the big farm and she was glad he'd been around as much as he had. He never let her hang up the phone, or go to bed or leave the house without telling her he loved her. She missed them all. Time had done a number on her family and when she stopped to think about it, it didn't seem fair that at the age of 32, she had no more family left. Her parents hadn't lived to see her get married or do anything big with her life.
The microwave dinged and she drew a cup of coffee from the pot. Sitting down at the table, with dawn breaking, she felt a tear escape. Brushing it away, she said out loud, "Stop it. You're fine. You have friends and people who care about you now. Just stop it."
She chuckled a little as she remembered her father's trick to help her stop sadness from becoming overwhelming. He knelt down in front of her, pulled her arms over her head and said, "Who's the goose who’s loose?" Then, he'd tickle her sides and chase her when she ran. A quick hug and a tap of his finger on her nose and the world would seem to tilt back to normal. Even when she was older and feeling sad, all it took from him was a quick, "Who's the goose ..." and the two of them would laugh. Sometimes he'd stop in front of her and lift her arms over her head, but then they'd laugh and hug and her world would seem normal again. No one else had ever known that trick with her and she missed him today.
Polly heard clattering from the front hallway and got up to go look. Doug Randall and Billy Endicott were laughing as they picked up coils of wire and bags of supplies dropped on the floor.
"What's up, guys?" she asked.
Doug blushed at seeing her. Billy said, "We bet each other we could get all the way in with this stuff without dropping it. We made it this far." He gave his buddy a push and Doug landed on his backside when his feet couldn't negotiate the mess of things in front of him.
"Thanks a bunch, dude," he said and swept Billy's feet out from under him. "There, serves you right."
"Are you two alright?" Polly asked.
"Oh, we're fine," Doug said. "I'm sorry. It's his fault. Everything he does gets me in trouble."
He scrambled and began picking things up off the floor. Billy looked a little chagrined and shrugged a quick apology to Polly. "Is coffee ready? We're here because we're starting in the auditorium today. Jerry said we had to get an early start."
"Yep," she laughed. "It's ready to go. Can I carry anything?"
Both boys looked at her in shock. "No!" they said, "We've got it." Doug scurried to drop his first load inside the doors of the auditorium and dashed back out to pick up the rest of the packages. Billy carried his armload of items in, set them down and came back out, watching Doug gather things up. "I guess we needed three people, eh, dude?" he said.
"Whatever, Billy," Doug replied. "We need to get this organized before Jerry gets here or he'll have our heads. Go back out to the truck and get those sawhorses."
Billy took off and Polly laughed. "What, you didn't try to bring those in, too?"
Doug looked up, mischief on his face. "Oh, we thought about it, but aside from putting them around our necks, it wasn't happening." He went in the auditorium and came back out, heading down the outside steps. Passing Billy, he reached his hand out and swatted his friend's belly then went to the truck and hauled out a piece of plywood. Lifting it over his back, he walked back in.
Billy had already spaced the sawhorses out and Doug set the plywood across them. Then they began pulling their bags open and dumping packages out, arranging and rearranging as they went.
"I'll be right back," Polly said. She went into the kitchen and poured off two cups of coffee then carried them back to the boys. "Here, it's the least I could do."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Billy, as he accepted the cup.
Polly had been walking back toward the door when she heard that and spun around on her feet.
"Billy?" She chided.
"Yes, ma'am." he responded.
"You can call me Polly or Miss Giller. You can call me Miss Polly or even hey you, but will you please stop calling me ma'am? It makes me feel old and I'm only ten or twelve years older than you."
"But, ma'am, some of my teachers in high school were only ten years older than me. You are old!" He giggled and ducked behind the table filled with supplies. "Now, you wouldn't want to make a mess in here by knocking the work table over, would you?" he asked. "Jerry would kill us and then there wouldn't be anyone to do your electricity."
Polly walked over to him. He stood up and faced her. "Don't ma'am me," she said and pushed the cup of coffee so it splashed down the side of his jeans. As she turned away, she heard Doug laughing quietly.
"Hey!" Billy said, "That's wet! And hot! Hey! And now I don't have any coffee!"
By the time she got to the front door, she heard him muttering at his friend, who continued to laugh.
Polly started to push the doors shut when she noticed the lock was scratched up. She looked a little more closely and decided she didn't remember it looking like that the day before when the locksmith left.
Well, that was creepy. She thought about it for a minute, and then looked at her watch. It was only 6:45 in the morning. She wondered if it had been Doug and Billy, so she went back into the auditorium. Billy looked up at her and wrinkled his nose. Doug grinned.
"Guys, did you try to unlock the door this morning?" she asked.
They looked at each other and said, "No. It was unlocked when we got here."
"But, you didn't try to stick your key in the lock?" she pressed.
"No, I don't think Doug even thought about it. He reached for the handle and opened the door. I have the key," Billy said and reached into the wet pocket. "It's a little wet, though," and smirked at her.
"Alright, I was only checking. You might as well give me the key. I changed the locks yesterday." she said.
"Really? Why?" Doug asked.
"I think someone stole a key and now I'm worried they tried to use it to get in last night."
Both stopped what they were doing. "What?"
"Oh, don't worry. They couldn't, but I'm a little freaked out by it."
Billy handed her the key, then said quietly, "I'm sorry for calling you old. I deserved the spill."
"Yes, you did," she said and took the key from him. Then, she punched him lightly in his arm. "I might have to hire you two guys to be my night watchmen!"
"Oh, that would be so cool!" Doug said. "We'd bring our sleeping bags and eat your food and camp out here. We'd totally do that!"
Billy nodded. "I'd bring my dog. He's a great dog. He'd let us know if anyone tried to get in."
Polly laughed. "Well, if I decide I'm too wimpy to stay here by myself, I'll let you know. Thanks guys." She turned away to walk back out. "I mean it. Thanks."
Jerry Randall was getting out of his truck as she walked back to the front door. "I see my boys are already here. Are they doing alright?"
"They're getting set up," she said. He grabbed tools from the bed of his truck and walked toward her.
"Jerry?" she said.
"Yes?"
"I think I had a key stolen from the newel post and someone tried to get in last night." His face took on a look of shock. "Anyway," she went on, "I had a locksmith here and he changed the lock yesterday. Your key won't work any longer. I have the one Billy was going to use and need to give you a new one."
"Are you doing alright?" he asked. "This is a lot of crazy stuff happening here at the school. It's been quiet for twenty years and now there are bodies and stolen keys. Anything else?"
"Oh, you won’t even believe it," she said. "We found an old boarded up root cellar yesterday. It looks like someone had been stealing things from high school kids for more than forty years and storing it down there."
"What!" he exclaimed. "Polly, you've got some serious courage, sticking around through this."
She laughed. "I'm not sure whether it's
courage or stupidity or sheer bull-headedness. I guess I've decided this place is mine and it's going to stay that way."
"Here, let me set these things down and start the boys moving. I'll be right back." As he walked into the auditorium, Polly saw Henry pull up in his truck. He waved to her as he got out, then walked across the parking lot toward her. Jerry and he met at the door.
"Good, you're both here at once," Polly said. "I need your old key, Henry." He looked at her with some confusion.
"I think someone stole one out of my newel post ... and," she pointed to the locks on the doors, "I think that person tried to get in last night. Fortunately, Aaron Merritt was here yesterday when I discovered it and called in a locksmith. So, new keys!"
She handed one to Jerry and held one out to Henry, who dug around in his pocket, then said, "Just a second." He trotted back to his truck and jumped in, digging around in the console. "Got it!" she heard. He came back and put it into her hand, taking the new key. "Sorry about that, I never seem to need it. You're always here." He jammed the key down in his jeans, then said, "What do you mean someone tried to get in last night?"
"Well, that's all I can think. I haven't called the locksmith." She looked at her watch. "7:15 in the morning seems a bit rude. But, I'll double check with him to make sure it wasn't all scratched up when he left." The door is pretty new and shouldn't look like this, should it?" Polly looked at both of the men, who then bent over to inspect the damage.
"You should call Merritt, too, Polly." Jerry said. Looking at Henry, he said, "Did you know they found a secret room in the basement yesterday, too?" he asked.
"Polly!" Henry exclaimed. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"
"I guess I am now,” she responded. “Hopefully, we're through the worst of it."
Aaron pulled up in his Ford Explorer. "Well, good morning, all!" he said, walking towards them.
"We were just talking about you, Sheriff!" Henry stuck his hand out. Aaron reached forward, took the hand, then patted him on the shoulder with his left hand.
"Were you!" He shook Jerry's hand and nodded at Polly. "What did I do?"
The two men looked at Polly, who said, "Aaron, would you check out the locks on my door? It looks like someone tried to use that key, but I don't know if I might be crazy. Would Lance have damaged it when he rekeyed the locks?"
Aaron bent over to check out the lock. "Hell no!" he exclaimed. Then he asked. "Have any of you touched these?"
"Not the locks," Polly said. "I don't think, anyway. Did either of you guys?"
They both shook their heads in the negative. She went on, "I suppose Doug and Billy would have touched the handle trying to get in this morning. They're in the auditorium."
"Alright. This is just damned well enough!" Aaron declared. He stalked back to his Explorer and pulled the radio out. Polly could hear him asking for a team to come up. Then, he pulled his phone out and made another call.
When he came back to the steps, he didn't seem any calmer.
"Polly, I don't know what is going on, but I do NOT like the idea of you spending another night here alone until we figure out what is going on."
Polly didn't figure the two men on either side of her were about to disagree with the sheriff, so they wouldn’t be any help.
"Ummm, Aaron. Whoever it was didn't get in last night because we changed the locks. I'm tired of living everywhere but my home."
Henry started to interrupt, "But, Polly … " was all he got out before she shushed him.
"I know that in every murder mystery where the poor, stupid girl says she's going to be brave and stay in her own place, she ends up with her throat slit, but please. The bodies in the bathroom were there before I got here and the crates in the basement were here a long time before that. I’ll make sure the doors are locked and leave the outside lights on," she pleaded.
Doug and Billy had come into the hallway and were listening.
"Sheriff, we told her we would stay here. We'll camp out for a while. Billy will even bring Big Jack!"
The sheriff shook his head. "I don't like it. And Lydia isn't going to like either." He gave Polly a sideways glance, hoping that mentioning his wife might change her response.
"Yeah," she laughed. "That's not fair. But, I don't care if the boys stay here with me. They can be first on the firing line."
The two boys grinned at each other. "Cool!" Billy said. "Camping and I don't even need a tent!"
Polly shook her head as Jerry strode in to the auditorium with his apprentices following.
Henry said, "I've got people coming in today to get the radiant floor laid upstairs. They'll be here around eight." He turned to the sheriff, "Excuse me, I'm going to head up and start getting things together. Talk to you later, Sheriff. Don't let her be stupid, okay?"
"Got it. I'll do what I can, and if I can't do anything, I'll sic the girls on her." Aaron winked at Henry.
"I'm not happy about this, Polly," he said when Henry was gone. "We don't know who stole that key or why they want to get back in the building."
"Maybe the boys will find out tonight if that person tries again!" She laughed.
"Polly, it’s not funny,” he scolded.
"I know. I'm not going to get too excited about this, though. Everything happened years ago. We don't even know if the killer still lives around here. And that stuff downstairs isn't a big deal. Do you think the person who collected those things is the killer?" she asked him.
"No, you're right about that. I can't imagine someone with that kind of a cache would move to murder, but I also don't know what he or she would do knowing you're in here if they could find a way to gain access to it." Aaron responded. "I don't like it, Polly." he said again.
"I know, Aaron. But do you not like it enough to force me into a different decision?" she asked.
He shook his head in frustration. "Probably not."
Cars began to pull into the parking lot.
"Well," he said, "It looks like DCI is back to work upstairs and there are some of my boys. We're going to make a decision about the crates in the basement. I'll talk to you about that later, alright?"
"Thanks, Aaron. I'm going to be fine. I promise,” she assured him.
"First of all, Polly, It’s me who is supposed to be telling you things are going to be fine, not the other way around." He surprised her by hugging her. "And if something were to happen to you, even if only a scratch, my life wouldn't be fit to be lived, trust me."
With that, he walked out to begin directing all of the police activity in her crazy schoolhouse.
Polly turned around, walked back into the kitchen, put the coffee pot on the counter and pulled trays of cookies out of the refrigerator and set them out with napkins and cups. This wouldn't be the first pot of coffee made today. Then, she filled her mug, sat down at the table and sighed.
Chapter Thirteen
In just a week, things felt like they were finally coming to an end. Floors were being finished in the apartment, the DCI had finally released the upstairs bathroom and workers were gutting them. Ugly institutional bathrooms would soon give way to a couple of exotic spa bathrooms for Polly's future guests.
Doug and Billy had made an adventure of their nights on her main floor. They'd brought a gaming system and screen and two cots and had camped out in the future office space. She heard them up late into the night and wondered how they ever got enough sleep to be going by the next day, but they were out every morning to go home and shower, then back by eight o’clock to go to work. She'd have to do something wonderful for them.
Aaron's people had gone through the root cellar with a fine tooth comb, looking for any clue as to who had taken the items; then brought the crates up to the stage. Screens were set up around the stage to keep curious eyes away as much as possible and while workers were in the building, there was always someone from the Sheriff's Department there to ensure no unauthorized person gained access.
Lydia, Sylvie, Andy and Beryl had all joined in catalogi
ng the items throughout the last few days. The crates were all numbered as to the area where they had been in the basement. Each item was to be photographed and labeled. If a year could be identified, it was. Any names or other information found was also logged. So far, they'd only gotten through about a third of the crates, but the process continued.
Polly couldn't get over the vast amount of items in the crates. It was an incredible timeline. Shoes, items of clothing, novels, textbooks, 45s, LPs, cassettes, CDs and even 8tracks were all part of the collection. There were a few yearbooks, some old pom pons, a flute, drumsticks, hair bows, quite a few spiral notebooks, old games, decks of cards, lunch boxes, trophies and plaques; the list kept growing.
Since today was Friday and it seemed like everyone planned to be at the schoolhouse, Polly got up at 5:30 and was in the kitchen before the boys woke up. The bread machine was busy kneading dough when Billy looked in from the counter. "What are you doing up so early, ma ... I mean, Polly?" he asked.
"Oh, I thought I'd make cinnamon rolls for breakfast."
"Really? Wow!"
"They will be ready when you get back this morning."
"Cool! Okay, I was just checking to make sure everything was alright," he said.
"I think the entire town knows you guys are here to protect me," Polly said. "Unless the creep is from Mars, he knows it too and isn't going to try to get in."
Billy threw his shoulders back, stood up a little straighter and grinned. "That's us. Knight Protectors!"
She laughed. "And I appreciate it. A lot."
"Well, we did find out you are a great cook." he said. She'd cooked every night this week, making everything from homemade pizza to steaks on the stove top grill. It had been fun having someone else to cook for, especially a couple of young men who ate their weight every night. She'd given them run of the kitchen and pleaded with them to clean up after themselves. They'd taken advantage of the stocked pantry and refrigerator and she loved it. They were good guys and Polly was glad to have them around.
All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood) Page 13
