Shadows on a Maine Christmas (Antique Print Mystery Series Book 7)

by Lea Wait

  Will tried to reach over and kiss Maggie. She pushed him away. “Hold on. I knew he was interested in Brian, but I didn’t think he was that sure.”

  “He is. Believe me, Maggie. He says Brian was a pain in high school, and he’s still a pain now.”

  “Being a pain doesn’t make him a murderer. Let’s go back a little. Just why is he upset about me talking to people? He’s known I was helping Aunt Nettie from the beginning.”

  “He didn’t know you’d be talking to his mother and Zelda.” Will nodded. “Jo agreed. She thought maybe you’d gone a little too far.”

  “Jo? Jo Heartwood? She was there tonight, too?”

  “She happened to stop in.”

  “I see. She happened to stop in and joined you two on your boys’ night out?”

  “Sort of like that. No big deal.”

  “No big deal? No big deal!”

  “Nah. Her mom was visiting and said she’d baby-sit so Jo could go out for a while. So she was there. And we were all talking.”

  “And drinking.”

  “And we had a few drinks.”

  “And you talked about how your friend Maggie was messing up. How she was interfering with Nick’s family.”

  “I didn’t exactly say that.”

  “I assume I did these horrible things when we had lunch today. Because that’s the only time I’ve ever met Zelda. And by the way, I wasn’t alone at lunch. You were there, too. And how did Nick even know, since he wasn’t there?”

  “I don’t know how Nick knew. But everybody does. And I told Nick and Jo you weren’t asking questions at lunch about the murder. You were talking to Zelda about college and things like that.”

  “I see. You told Nick and Jo that.”

  “Of course I did! But that didn’t make Nick feel better. In fact, he didn’t like that at all. That was when he said he wanted you to stop talking to everybody in Waymouth.” Will put his arm around Maggie again. She pulled further away. “Except me. You can talk to me anytime, Maggie.”

  “What did you say then?”

  “I told him you were going home soon, so he wouldn’t have to worry about you for much longer. That you didn’t mean any harm. You teach at a college, so you talk about colleges. You didn’t mean to interfere.”

  “You excused what I said? I was trying to help Zelda! Nick is browbeating her, and trying to keep her from finding out what the world is all about. He’d like to keep her at home in Maine for the rest of her life. That‘s not protecting her. That’s keeping her from living her life! That’s…child abuse!”

  “Nick doesn’t see it that way, Maggie. And she is his daughter. He wants you to stay away from his family. And he wants you to stop asking questions about Carrie Folk’s murder.” Will raised his hands. “That’s it. That’s what he wants. And he’s the state trooper. He’s the boss.”

  “He’s not my boss. I’m not going to do it.”

  “We only have a few more days together before you have to go home. Nick’s my friend. Why not make it easier for me? Why not do as he says?” Will asked. “Aunt Nettie won’t mind if you stop questioning people. You and I can do other things. Fun things.”

  “Like your leaving here one of the few nights I’m in Maine to go drinking with Nick and Jo Heartwood? That kind of fun?” Maggie stood up. “The first thing you need to do is get a good night’s sleep and sober up.”

  “Ah, Maggie, Maggie. I love you, Maggie. I’m not that drunk.”

  “You’re not that sober, for sure.” She reached out a hand. “I’ve never seen you like this before. And it’s not pretty. Here. Let me help you up.” She pulled him up to an unsteady stand. “Can you make it up the stairs by yourself?”

  “Of course I can. I’m fine. I don’t need any help,” he said, lurching toward the staircase.

  “I’m going to get you a glass of water and aspirin. I’ll bring them upstairs. I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight,” she added, as he headed upstairs. “And I don’t care what Nick says. Or you say. I’m not going to stop asking questions.”

  25

  Untitled tipped-in illustration for Comus, 1921, by Arthur Rackham. Shades of tan and brown; picture of gnarled, leafless tree, with snake coiled around it next to bony, ancient hag with long hair who is staring at viewer. Caption: “Some say, no evil thing that walks by night / In fog, or fire, by lake or Moorish fen, / Blew meager Hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost / That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time; / No goblin, or swart faery of the mine, / Hath hurtful power o’er true virginity.” Comus, a masque in honor of chastity, was written by John Milton, and first presented on Michaelmas, the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels, in 1634. Small fold mark on lower left corner. 5 x 7 inches. Price: $65.

  Maggie heard the cowbell the next morning. Aunt Nettie’s signal that Will had overslept. She groaned. No wonder. He was probably still out cold.

  She pulled herself out of the guest room bed, threw on her bathrobe, and headed downstairs. This morning she’d help Aunt Nettie with her morning ablutions. After all, wasn’t it Aunt Nettie who’d called her “one of the family”? Helping is what family did. It wasn’t Aunt Nettie’s fault Will had gotten drunk last night.

  Half an hour later the sun was beginning to come up, coffee was perking, and the two women were plotting over bacon and toast with raspberry jam.

  “If you’re not supposed to talk with anyone, how are we supposed to find out anything?” asked Aunt Nettie. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Brian. What do you think? Is he really the one who killed Carrie?”

  “Maybe Nick’s discovered something we don’t know. That’s his job, after all. He said the crime unit hadn’t found fingerprints, though, so it isn’t that. DNA? No. There hasn’t been time for lab tests to come back,” Maggie puzzled. “Let’s think it through. Opportunity? Ruth told us that the night before Christmas Eve Brian went for a walk in the middle of the night. If he did that again early on Christmas Day no one would have thought anything about it. He could have gone to Carrie’s house, killed her, stolen her money, and returned home to play Santa Claus.”

  “Possible,” said Aunt Nettie, nibbling a slice of bacon. “But to do all that would take longer than it would take to walk around town for a bit. It’s cold out there. I can’t imagine Brian’s taking a walk for more than a half hour or so. You went out last night. What do you think? How long would someone wander about in the cold?”

  “I was gone for what? Thirty or forty minutes? And I was ready to come inside where it was warm. But we don’t know that anyone was paying attention to how long Brian was gone. How far is Carrie’s house from town?”

  “He couldn’t have walked there. Assuming he knew where it was, and he might have, since she’s lived in the same place for years, it would take maybe eight or ten minutes to drive. She lived north of here, in the same direction as Nicky and Doreen live, but not as far out. Where she lived there are maybe a dozen houses, pretty close to each other, on the main road.”

  “I remember. Close enough so Billy went to a neighbor’s house for breakfast.”

  “So maybe one of the neighbors saw something. That might be information Nicky has that we don’t have. That could lead to a suspect: Brian, or someone else.”

  “Owen told me that, despite what Ruth said, Brian’s having financial problems. New wife, new house, job not as spectacular as Ruth implied. He may have exaggerated when he told his mother, or she was exaggerating when she told us. In either case, he probably could use extra money. Jenny didn’t marry him for his looks.”

  Aunt Nettie choked a bit on her toast. “That’s nasty, Maggie.”

  “Did you see her ring? If Brian’s finances are tight, that ring alone was a major stretch. And new babies run up bills.”

  “Maybe her ring’s not real. Maybe it’s one of those zirconias they sell on the Home Shopping Network,” suggested Aunt Nettie.

  This time it was Maggie’s turn to chortle a bit. “Good thought. But having bills to pay, going for
a walk, and even my seeing Brian looking through his mother’s desk doesn’t make him a murderer.”

  “Brian could have been protecting his mother. So no one would know what she’d done.”

  Maggie nodded. “Possible. Although Ruth had already agreed to pay Carrie.”

  “Maybe Brian wanted her to pay him instead.”

  “Take over the blackmailing?” Maggie shook her head. “What son would blackmail his own mother?”

  “It would depend on what was in Ruth’s letter,” said Aunt Nettie, surprisingly. “But you’re probably right. That isn’t logical.”

  They were both quiet.

  “So Brian doesn’t have a clear motive. Even if he might have had the opportunity it still doesn’t feel as though the case should be wrapped up.”

  “There must be someone else who makes more sense as the murderer,” Aunt Nettie thought out loud.

  “But neither of you are going to do any more investigating,” said Will, entering the room and heading for the refrigerator. He poured himself a tall glass of orange juice and drank it in almost one gulp. “That’s over. Done. Enough is enough. Nick and Owen Trask have jobs to do. They’re figuring out who the killer is. They don’t want you two involved anymore. Nick said it was a mistake to get either of you involved at all. So, stop. Just stop.”

  “Nick and Owen can continue investigating their own way,” said Aunt Nettie. “I’m an old lady. They can’t stop me from gossiping with my friends. There’s no harm in chatting a little about the untimely death of an acquaintance.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t talk with your friends. But Maggie’s got to stay out of it. I don’t want to mess up my friendship with Nick because he thinks the lady in my life is interfering with his family.” He looked from his aunt to Maggie. “I don’t want to be in the middle of this mess, and I don’t want either of you to be. Can’t you understand that?”

  “I understand Nick’s decided he knows who killed Carrie Folk, and he’s trying to prove it,” said Aunt Nettie. “But he may not have all the information he needs to make that decision.”

  “Will, Nick doesn’t want me involved in the investigation. I hear that. If he’d found Carrie’s murderer, that would make sense. But Aunt Nettie and I aren’t as sure as Nick that Brian’s the guilty one.”

  “You don’t get it,” said Will. “At this point I don’t care who killed Carrie Folk. And neither should you. That’s Nick’s job to find out, and he certainly knows more about this investigation than I do. Than even both of you do, no matter what you think. And if he says to stay out of the way, that’s what you should do. It’s that simple.” He looked from one of the women to the other.

  “Maggie or I will talk to Ruth about anything we choose,” said Aunt Nettie. “We just won’t let Nick know what we’re doing. If he doesn’t know, then he won’t be upset.”

  “And although I’m not sorry for what I said to Zelda about her future, maybe I was out of line. I don’t know her. Okay?” Maggie said. “I’ll even apologize to Nick if it seems necessary. But if Aunt Nettie wants to talk to Ruth, or Betty, or Doreen, or any of her friends, she should be able to.”

  Will threw up his hands. “I give up. I woke up with a headache, and this talk is making the pain worse. I should have said something earlier. I shouldn’t have let you both get involved in this whole murder situation.”

  “Let us? We didn’t need your permission. Nick asked Aunt Nettie, and said I could help.”

  “That was Christmas Day. Now the situation is different. I think you’re wrong to do something a state trooper specifically tells you not to do. Don’t forget, officially, we’re all still suspects ourselves. I hope you haven’t forgotten that. But I can’t put a gag on either of you.” He glared at Maggie. “Although once in a while that sounds like a sane and reasonable option. You do what you want to do. Just don’t expect me to back you up on anything to do with this investigation.” Will picked up the cup of coffee he’d poured and stomped back up the stairs. “I’m going back to bed to see if I can get rid of this headache.”

  Aunt Nettie calmly finished the bacon she was eating. “Will seems a bit upset this morning. Maybe it’s just as well we don’t talk to Nicky today. But I need to talk with Ruth again, and I’d like you to drive me there. If you’re still up for it.”

  “There’s no reason I can think of for you not to talk with Ruth. I’d be happy to drive you there.” Maggie glanced toward the stairway Will had taken to the second floor. “Maybe by the time we get home he’ll be in a better mood.”

  A telephone call from Aunt Nettie confirmed that Ruth would not only be happy to see them, but she’d been about to call and ask them to come over. Maggie put the breakfast dishes in the sink to soak and got their coats. “I wonder if Doreen will still be at Ruth’s? She was going to stay last night to watch Betty.”

  “I didn’t think to ask,” said Aunt Nettie. “But it might be better if she wasn’t there. Wouldn’t want you getting in any more trouble about talking to her.”

  “I’m not worried,” said Maggie.

  And she had no reason to be. Doreen had already left by the time they reached Ruth’s house. “I’m glad you called,” she said, opening the door and welcoming them in. “Doreen’s gone home, Miranda left yesterday afternoon, and Nick arrived early this morning. He took Brian and Jenny back with him to the local police station to question them. Jenny insisted on taking the baby with her, so they’re all gone.”

  Aunt Nettie and Maggie exchanged glances. “How is Betty this morning?” asked Aunt Nettie.

  “She slept better last night, but she’s napping now.”

  “We need to talk about this blackmail thing,” said Aunt Nettie. “We hear Nick is focusing his suspicions on Brian.”

  “No!” said Ruth. “I knew he was being questioned, but I didn’t think it was that serious.” They settled at the kitchen table. “Brian wouldn’t have killed Carrie. He’s lived in Philadelphia for years; he hardly knows her. And he didn’t know anything about the blackmailing.”

  “Nick thinks he did. That he overheard something here, or found the letter you’d gotten. That he decided to get in the middle of it all, maybe to protect you, or maybe for another reason.” Maggie felt uncomfortable laying it all out for Brian’s mother. “Ruth, the ten thousand dollars you gave Carrie is missing. Nick thinks whoever killed her stole that money from her house Christmas morning.”

  “Missing? The ten thousand dollars isn’t missing,” said Ruth. “Or at least I don’t think it is. I didn’t feel comfortable just handing Carrie ten thousand dollars, so we went to a bank in Portland where neither of us had accounts, so no one would ask questions, and she opened an account there for Billy, and deposited the money there. If she had cash in her house, it wasn’t the ten thousand dollars I gave her.”

  “Did anyone else know you’d done that? Opened the account for Billy, I mean?”

  “I didn’t tell anyone. And no one’s asked. When Nick questioned me yesterday afternoon I told him about the letter and the ten thousand dollars, as I’d told you.”

  “But you didn’t tell him about the new bank account.”

  “Didn’t think it was necessary. That money’s Billy’s now. Carrie was quite clear about that.” Ruth hesitated. “She asked that if anything happened to her, I should make sure her lawyer knew about the account. I thought that was a little strange, but she wouldn’t explain, and since she was murdered a couple of days later, I wasn’t sure what to do. I planned to wait until all the fuss was over and then contact her lawyer.”

  “Remember you wondered whether Carrie or Billy were sick, since Carrie had taken several sick days this fall?” Aunt Nettie said.

  “Whether Carrie needed the money to pay medical bills,” Ruth agreed. “Or whether she put the money in Billy’s name so any creditors she had couldn’t get their hands on it.”

  “Nicky told us Carrie had stage-four cancer,” said Aunt Nettie. “She wouldn’t have lived long even if she hadn’t
been killed. From what they found in her home, the police are assuming she wanted the money to pay for an upscale facility where Billy could live after she died.”

  “She was that sick? She’d lost weight recently, but I didn’t think anything of it. She must have been worried to death about what would happen to Billy. And that would explain why she said she needed the rest of the hundred thousand dollars by the end of January,” said Ruth.

  “Exactly,” said Aunt Nettie. “And from what you’ve said, the ten thousand dollars isn’t missing. Carrie’s killer might have taken cash she had in her wallet, but there weren’t thousands of dollars sitting around her house to be found and stolen.”

  “Not the ten thousand she got from me, certainly,” said Ruth. “Of course, she could have gotten money from someone else.”

  “I didn’t give her any,” Aunt Nettie reminded her. “Did Doreen talk to you about her letter?”

  “She did. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see you this morning. Of course, she hadn’t given Carrie any money either.”

  Ruth and Aunt Nettie looked at each other. Finally, Aunt Nettie said, “I didn’t ask what your letter was about. I told you what mine said; that I’d had an illegal abortion.”

  “Which was hogwash!” said Ruth, sitting up straighter. “Although no one would have blamed you for doing that after what you went through.” She turned to Maggie. “Nettie was so brave, after the rape. She would have gone to the police in Bath, too, if it hadn’t been that one of the men’s brothers was in the sheriff’s department.”

  “You were raped?” said Maggie.

  “I thought you’d told her!” said Ruth

  “I didn’t tell her everything,” said Aunt Nettie. “I didn’t think I’d need to. But I guess the time for secrets is long gone.” She turned to Maggie. “I was walking home by myself during one of the blackouts. I’d had dinner with Ruth and several other women we worked with. I remember we ate lobster that night. It wasn’t rationed and you could get it locally. The others wanted to go on to the USO afterwards, but I was tired, so I left early. Two men who knew me from the Iron Works saw me, and followed me, taunting me. When I told them to get lost, they pulled me off the street, tore off my clothes, and took turns raping me. No one heard my screams.”