by Jessica Beck
“Jake, nothing’s going to happen, but if it does, you are hereby officially absolved of any and all blame for whatever might transpire. I won’t even haunt you; how does that sound to you?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind having you around, even if a part of you were gone.”
“Does that include if I’m a ghost?”
“Hey, I’ll take whatever I can get,” he said. “If you’re really sure, then I’m going to take you up on your offer. Truth be told, I’m so tired I can hardly see straight. When I was younger, I could miss a night of sleep and not lose a step. These days, if I don’t get at least eight hours, I’m worthless the next day.”
“I would never say that you’re worthless,” I said.
“That’s sweet, but we both know that I’m not getting any younger. Listen, I’ll agree to this time frame on one condition.”
“What’s that?” I asked him.
“If you get in trouble, you call me, no matter what time of day or night it is.”
I had to laugh. “Jake, how much good do you think that you can you do from where you are right now?”
“Suzanne, don’t forget that I’ve got the advantage of having the long arm of the law on my side,” he said with a chuckle. “If you call, I’ll make help appear. That I can promise you.”
“I won’t hold you to it, but it’s sweet of you to offer nonetheless. You’d better believe that I won’t call unless it’s a dire emergency.”
“Is there any other kind?” he asked, and then he hung up.
“Wow, he must really be tired,” I told my mother. “I won that argument with hardly any fight from him.”
“The poor man works too hard,” Momma said.
“I know that, and you know that. Just try telling him that.”
“No, thank you. He’s every bit as stubborn as the man I have in my life.”
“I’m willing to wager that mine is worse than yours,” I said with a grin.
“Let’s just call it a dead heat and leave it at that, shall we?” Momma suggested.
“That sounds good to me.” As she pulled up in front of Anna’s home, I noticed something odd right away.
Her front door was standing wide open.
Had Anna left it that way on purpose, or had something happened to my aunt’s nearest neighbor, too?
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out from the porch.
“We should call the police,” Momma said as she put a hand on my shoulder.
“Hang on. Let’s not to jump to conclusions.” I pushed the door gently with my foot, and it continued to swing open. “Anna! Can you hear me?”
“I hear you just fine,” a voice behind us said, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Why are you yelling?”
“You scared the life out of me,” I said.
“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you expect to find me at my own place?” she asked.
“We saw the door standing wide open, and you weren’t around.”
Anna reached over and pulled the door shut. A moment after she did, it gently opened itself again. “I’ve got to get Hank over to fix that. Most days I have to lock it to get it to stay closed.”
I took a moment to study her. Instead of her usual outfit, she had on a pair of blue and white pinstriped overalls. There was a bandana in her back pocket, and a smudge of something on her cheek. “I hope we didn’t disturb you,” I said.
“No, I was just in the garage changing my oil,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You change your own oil?” Momma asked her.
“I sure do,” she said proudly as she pulled the bandana from her pocket and wiped her hands. “I got tired of being so helpless around automobiles, so I took a night class on basic auto maintenance and repair.”
“Good for you,” Momma said. I tried to imagine my mother changing the oil on her vehicle, but I just couldn’t picture it. To be fair, I couldn’t envision the circumstances where I’d be interested in doing it, either.
“What can I do for you?” she asked. “You didn’t change your mind about selling me the house, did you?”
“We’ve been talking about it,” I said, which was actually a big fat lie.
“That’s excellent news,” she said.
“We just have a question for you,” I said.
“Fire away.”
“We spoke with someone recently who saw you coming in through the front gate just before my sister’s body was discovered,” Momma said. “Would you mind telling us where you were when she died?”
“I didn’t wander very far off; I just went out to get my paper like I always do when I wake up in the morning,” she said.
“But you have a box for it right there. You shouldn’t even have to leave your yard to get it.” It was true, too. The plastic newspaper box was positioned so that she could easily reach anything inside it without even having to open the gate and step outside her property.
“Sure, if the paper guy ever bothered to put it in there, I’d be all set,” she said, “but his idea of delivering my paper most days is just hitting the sidewalk anywhere within a hundred yards of my front door.”
It made sense, if it were true.
“Who told you I was out running around, anyway?” Anna asked.
“We’d rather not say,” I said.
My late aunt’s nosy neighbor frowned for a moment, and then she got it. “You don’t have to tell me; I already know. I saw Greta as she was driving up the hill. She must have told you.”
“We’re not in any position to confirm or deny that,” I said.
“You don’t have to. Funny, I thought that Greta and I were friends. I guess I was wrong.”
“She didn’t tell us to hurt you,” Momma said. “We’re trying to get a little closure regarding my sister’s death, so we’re asking everyone we speak with about the details of the last time they saw her. We asked you the same thing, remember?”
“Sure. I guess I get it. After all, it’s not like I did anything. No one did. I know it must be hard to accept, but the woman just fell, plain and simple.”
Momma and I both knew that it was anything but plain and simple, but I decided not to say anything about that, either.
Anna added, “So, when do you think you’ll make a decision on the house?”
“Soon,” I said. “We’ll let you know as soon as we decide.”
Anna stood closer to me as she said, “That sounds good. I should tell you that I’d hate to hear that you sold the house to someone else without even giving me a chance to bid on it.”
“We wouldn’t do that to you,” I said as I took a step back.
“I hope not, for all our sakes,” she said.
“Is that a threat, young lady?” Momma asked her.
“No, not at all,” Anna said, trying to force a little lightness back into the conversation. “I’d just hate for you to miss out on a higher bid, that’s all.”
“I sincerely hope that was all that it was,” Momma said, and then she turned to me. “Are we finished here, Suzanne?”
“For now,” I said.
“Very good.” Momma turned back to Anna and said, “We won’t keep you from your oil change any longer.”
“I appreciate that,” Anna said.
As we walked back to my mother’s car, I glanced back and saw that Anna was watching us carefully. There was a thoughtful expression on her face before she buried it with a smile and waved.
I waved back, but I couldn’t wait until we got back to the safety of my Aunt Jean’s house.
Once we were inside, I firmly locked the door behind us.
“Is that really necessary?” Momma asked me. “It’s not even dark yet.”
“What can I say? I feel better having it locked, so why not? What are we going to eat tonight?”
“How about the lasagna we bought at the store? It can be ready in forty minutes.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “I’m sure it’s not as good as we’d get at Napoli’s, but
I doubt the DeAngelis clan would be willing to deliver all the way up here.”
“I don’t doubt that they’d do it for you, if you asked them nicely.”
“What can I say? They’re good friends of mine.”
“More like a second family, I’d say,” Momma said a little wistfully.
A thought suddenly occurred to me. “You’re not jealous of my relationship with Angelica and her daughters, are you?”
“No. I’m actually quite fond of them all. I’m not sure if you know it, but I’ve been taking Phillip there once a week since we’ve been married, and the entire clan has made us feel most welcome.”
“They do that with everyone,” I said.
“This is different. They love you, Suzanne.”
It was getting a little serious for my taste. “And who can blame them? After all, I’m a pretty lovable gal.”
“Most of the time,” Momma said.
“I’m not sure if that’s a backhanded compliment or not, but I’ll take it nonetheless.”
“I was certain that you would. What are you going to do while we’re waiting for dinner?”
“If you don’t mind, I thought I’d get out Aunt Jean’s journal and read a little more of it.”
“I thought we gathered all of the clues that we could out of it,” Momma said. “Why the need to read more from it now?”
“I guess I’m hoping for a little insight into what really happened,” I admitted. “I can’t help feeling that there’s something that we’re missing, but if you’d like, I can wait to do it after I go to bed.”
“No, I don’t want it giving you nightmares. Go on. Read away.”
“What are you going to be doing while I’m studying Aunt Jean’s journal?” I asked her.
“I thought I might call Phillip and bring him up to date on what’s been going on. After all, he’s a fine law enforcement officer in his own respect, and he might have some insights to share with us. I trust you have no objections to me consulting with my husband.”
“Your trust is well placed,” I said. “Go on and call him. At this point, I’ll take whatever help I can get. I’d phone Jake, but with any luck, he’s sound asleep by now.”
“I must admit that it will be good having him join us here,” Momma said.
“On more levels than I can ever express,” I said.
As my mother smiled at me, she said, “Oh, I believe that I have a pretty fair idea.”
After Momma left the room, I decided to get my aunt’s journal out again anyway. After all, it could hardly upset my mother if I read it while she was in the other room. As I skimmed through the journal, I noticed that the book itself had page numbers, and as I flipped past the entries, the numbers became more and more pronounced.
Could there be a clue that wasn’t directly written into the book in my aunt’s handwriting?
I put the journal aside for a moment and read the clue Momma had found inside the doll’s locket.
It said, “J:P24, S5,” but I still didn’t know what it meant.
Unless the J stood for her journal. That could be why she split the clues that she’d given us.
Putting the note down beside me, I picked up my aunt’s journal again and flipped to page 24. My finger was shaking a little as I counted down to the fifth sentence. If I was right, this might just yield me the clue I needed to find her killer.
The sentence simply read,
Anna and Greta are great friends.
Was Aunt Jean trying to tell me that she’d narrowed the hunt down for the person who was trying to kill her to one of these two women? I still had them on my list of suspects, along with two men as well, but I wasn’t willing to write off the sheriff and the attorney as two of my prime suspects, not based on the weakest of clues, anyway. I wasn’t even certain that I’d understood what Aunt Jean had been trying to tell us, but even if I was spot-on, it didn’t mean that my aunt knew who was after her for sure.
I was still thinking about the possibility that one of the two women had killed my aunt when the doorbell rang. I had no idea who could be visiting us, but I was still surprised when I looked through the peephole and saw the police chief looking back.
“Hey, Chief. Come on in.”
“Thanks,” he said as he removed his hat and started twirling it in his hands. “Suzanne, we need to talk.”
“What about?” I asked him, wondering if Momma would come back into the room anytime soon.
“It’s about your aunt, actually,” he said. “I’ve been hearing some stories that you and your mother are going around town asking folks for their alibis. Is that true?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“Then what have you been doing?”
“We’ve been discussing Aunt Jean with several of the folks who live in town, trying to get a little closure on our loss,” I said, keeping to the explanation Momma and I had been using for the past two days.
“That’s pure baloney,” the chief said.
“Excuse me?”
“I just don’t buy it. For some reason, you two have got it into your heads that Jean was murdered; at least that’s the way that you’ve been acting.”
I got angry at that comment, something that rarely helped, but I couldn’t control myself. My mother and I were the only ones seeking justice for my aunt’s death! This police chief didn’t even believe it was murder! I had my reasons to believe that he still belonged on my list of suspects, but I didn’t care at that moment. I’d been trying to bury my grief in the investigation, but I just couldn’t keep it down any longer. “That’s because it was murder. If you weren’t such a backwoods hick of a law enforcement officer, you’d know it, too.”
I saw anger flash in his eyes for a moment until he restrained himself. In a soft but steely voice, he asked, “Do you have any proof that backs that up?”
“Follow me,” I said as I led him up the steps. Confronting him alone was probably one of the dumbest things I’d ever done in my life, but at that moment, I didn’t care.
“See that?” I asked as I pointed to where the fishing line had dug into the soft wood of the baluster.
“What? There’s nothing there.”
“Look closer,” I ordered him. Feel it with your fingertips.”
He knelt down and did as I suggested. After a few moments, without any prompting from me, he searched the opposite baluster and found what I’d found. After he stood up again, he said, “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“Just that someone strung fishing line between the balusters to trip my aunt and send her crashing down the stairs, you mean?”
“That’s a mighty big leap you’re making there.”
“We found something else, too.”
“What?” he asked me. Was I tipping our hand to the police chief or a killer?
“I found a half-empty spool of fishing line in the pantry.”
He frowned at that news. “That could just be a coincidence.”
“It’s possible, but I doubt that it’s likely,” I replied.
“What does your boyfriend think of your theory? And don’t bother lying to me and trying to tell me that you haven’t told him, because I won’t believe you.”
“As a matter of fact, he agrees with us,” I said.
“Why am I not surprised to hear that?”
“Think what you will of my detective skills, but Jake Bishop is a fine law enforcement officer.”
“I know that,” the chief said with resignation in his voice. “In my defense, I gave the stairs a cursory examination when I first got here. I’m willing to admit that I didn’t see what you showed me.”
He sounded so defeated that I suddenly started to feel sorry for him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I didn’t spot it myself until I put the baluster under a powerful beam of light from my flashlight.”
“That’s no excuse. I still should have caught it.”
Was he sincere, or was he just acting? I still wasn’t sure, so I decided to push my luck a
little further. “By the way, your alibi didn’t check out after all.”
“What?” he asked. “Somebody’s lying to you. If I said that I was at Burt’s, then that’s where I was.”
“Funny, but we spoke with a waitress at the diner, and she said that you skipped eating breakfast there entirely the morning my aunt died.”
“She said that? Who exactly did you talk to?”
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but she was most emphatic,” I said.
“Don’t bother telling me. It was Tammy, wasn’t it?”
I admitted as much. “If you weren’t eating breakfast there, then where were you, and why are you hiding it?”
“I was there all right,” he said, the resignation thick in his voice. “I was eating in back with Burt, though. The truth is that Tammy has a crush on me. It’s embarrassing the way she flirts with me, and I wasn’t in the mood for her antics that morning. Burt invited me to eat with him in back, and his waitresses never come into the kitchen. He puts all of the plates on the pass-through, and they pick the orders up from there. I found a spot out of her line of vision and spent my time there swapping lies with Burt. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”
“We will,” I said. The story sounded good, but that didn’t necessarily make it true.
“Do it now, Suzanne. I won’t have this hanging over my head a minute more than I have to. Here, I’ll call him myself.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll do it,” I said as I reached for a phone book.
“What’s wrong with my phone?” he asked, and then Chief Kessler smiled. “You don’t trust me that I’ll actually dial Burt’s number.”
“No offense,” I said as I looked up the diner number and started to dial.
“None taken,” the chief said, his smile never wavering. “I’m beginning to think that you might actually know what you’re doing after all.”
“It’s easy enough to underestimate me,” I said. “I may be a donutmaker by trade, but I’ve learned a thing or two since I started investigating murder.”
I dialed the diner number, and a woman answered.
