When The Wind Blows: A Spruce Run Mystery

by Mark Mueller

  “Tell you what,” Ducky said as he glimpsed at me. “I looked through the safe once already, but there’s no harm in looking through it again. Let’s take everything out of it and have a closer look.” He hunched down and reached into the safe and pulled out several documents and three thousand dollars of cash. While I itemized what had been taken from the safe, Ducky took a flashlight from Livingston’s desk, turned it on and stuck his head in the safe to see if he missed anything. He first moved the light across the safe’s floor. Just as the light reached the far right corner, he noticed something that had reflected the light. He reached into the safe and pulled out what appeared to be a small, round, indented piece of plastic about a quarter of an inch in diameter.

  “Anyone lose a contact lens?”

  I looked up, along with Livingston and Danny.

  “Hey,” Danny exclaimed. “Jack just got some new contact lenses. Ask him.”

  Ducky called Jack Livingston into the office. When he arrived, Ducky held out the contact lens. “Is this yours?”

  “So that’s where it—I mean, no, it’s not. Both of mine are in my eyes.”

  “Is that why you hit your shoulder on the door frame when you came in here a little while ago?” I asked

  “No. I’m wearing both lenses.”

  “I think you’re just wearing just one lens.”

  Ducky crossed his arms. “Take your contact lenses out, Jack. I’d like to see them both.”

  Jack Livingston hesitated for a moment, and then removed the contact lens from his left eye. When he reached for his right eye, he began to struggle.

  “I can’t get it out.”

  “Fine,” Ducky snapped. “We’ll have an eye doctor remove it for you.” He reached for his cell.

  “Okay, okay,” Jack Livingston conceded. “So that was my contact you found. That doesn’t prove nothing.”

  “Then how did it get in the safe?” Ducky asked.

  “It must have fallen out when I put some cash register money in it.”

  Ducky sighed. “Come on, now, boy. You stated before you didn’t make any cash deposits all day. So tell me how did your contact lens find its way to the back of the safe if you weren’t near it?”

  “I can explain,” the boy stammered.

  “All right,” John Livingston interrupted. “I can explain. Yeah, he took the money. It’s in his pocket right now.”

  Ducky gaped at the elder Livingston and shook his head. “Why are you telling us this now?” he scathed.

  Livingston looked defeated and didn’t speak for a moment. After some hesitation, he answered, “I didn’t stop him because I didn’t want to believe that my own son was a thief. I hoped he’d put it back.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to this boy, Livingston?” Ducky said as he looked at Danny.

  “Alright,” Livingston conceded. “I may have made a slight mistake, okay? College boy would have gotten off on a lack of evidence, anyway.”

  Ducky turned to Jack Livingston. “Turn over the money, please.”

  The boy hesitated before he pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and handed it to Ducky.

  Ducky counted it, making sure the entire four hundred dollars was accounted for. “I’m going to take the both of you down to the sheriff’s department. Jack Livingston, you are under arrest for theft. John Livingston, you are under arrest as an accomplice to theft.”

  I turned to Danny. “Looks like you’re in the clear, son. Sorry you had to go through this.”

  “I told you the truth,” he replied.

  Ducky handcuffed both Livingstons and then escorted the pair out of the store. I followed and opened the cruiser’s rear-seat door. Once both Livingstons were secured inside the car, we headed to the sheriff’s department.

  Two hours later Ducky drove me home. It was almost nightfall when he dropped me off at my house.

  Chapter Three

  “Honey, I’m home!” I called out as I stepped over the kitchen threshold. The cat, which was sleeping on the couch in the living room, opened one eye and then went back to sleep.

  “Ingrate,” I growled. I went to my desk by the bay window and resurrected the cigar I had forsaken in the ashtray. I looked at the cat. “We closed another case today. How shall we celebrate?”

  The cat, of course, said nothing.

  “I’ve got an idea. Let’s go to Disney World!”

  Since the cat was ignoring me, as usual, I went to the bedroom. As I took off my blazer, the phones in the living room blasted off.

  “Can you get that?” I called out.

  The cat walked into the bedroom and looked at me like I was the dumbest ass it had ever seen. Since it was obvious that he wasn’t going to screen my calls, I goose-stepped back out to the living room and grabbed the blower on the right.

  “Start talkin’.”

  “Mac?”

  I recognized the voice at once and was stunned for a few seconds.

  “Hello?” the voice asked. “Anybody there?”

  “Maddy,” I blurted. “I was just thinking about you today.”

  I sat down on the desk chair, stunned. I hadn’t expected to hear from the woman I had thought about earlier in the day, the girl whose memory was still fresh in my mind, even after six years.

  Her name was Maddy Wuhrer. At one time she was the love of my life. She was the center of my world, and I had even planned to marry her. Instead, I drank myself pissy drunk every night and obliterated our relationship in the process.

  And now, here she was calling me out of the blue on the same day I had been thinking about her. Go figure. Was it a coincidence? I don’t know. But, I was elated, regardless.

  “So, how are you?” she asked.

  “I’m good,” I replied. “Just taking it one day at a time. Five and a half years sober. Haven’t felt this good in a long time.” I sounded like a moron.

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  “I’ve thought about you a lot since I got out of recovery.”

  “Uh, huh.” She sounded skeptical.

  “You don’t seem too thrilled to hear that.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just that I haven’t heard from you in a long time and—” She went silent.

  “I know. I’m surprised you called.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “You hurt me, you know.”

  I didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m sorry, Maddy. If there was any way I could make it up to you, I would.”

  She ignored my apology. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

  “Nope. You?”

  “Me neither. I became a spinster six years ago and I’m still a spinster now. How cliché is that?” She forced a laugh.

  “You’re not old enough to be a spinster.” Guilt twisted my stomach into a knot.

  “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. You know me. I tend to exaggerate. Anyway, I was just in Mexico and it made me think of you.”

  Maddy knew I loved going to Mexico. My friend Dave lived in Monterrey and I visited him whenever I could.

  “I’m glad you called me,” I said.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, I’m glad you called.”

  Maddy was silent for a moment. “There’s another reason why I called.”

  “I kind of thought so.”

  “My Aunt Polly passed away.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Me too.”

  “So you called me out of the blue just to tell me your Aunt Polly passed away?”

  “Well—” She fell silent again and I thought she might have hung up on me.

  “Still there?” I asked.

  “I’m here.”

  “So, are you going to tell me why you called?”

  “I was wondering if you’d do something for me.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  Maddy didn’t speak for a long moment.

  “Talk to me, Maddy.”r />
  She remained silent. I almost thought again that she had hung up on me.

  “Maddy, what’s going on?”

  “Okay,” she answered, at last. “I was wondering if you’d go to New York with me.”

  “New York? Why?”

  “That’s where my Aunt Polly lived. Your name is mentioned in her will and that’s where it’ll be probated. I remembered that we used to go into New York all the time back in the day and I thought you might like to go with me for the will reading.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m in her will?”

  “Yeah, you’re in it, but don’t ask me why.”

  “But she didn’t know me.”

  “I know. But you’re in it anyway.”

  “Wow. We haven’t seen each other in years and now you want me to go to New York with you for a will reading. Talk about an unusual date.”

  “Who said anything about a date? All I want to know is if you’re interested in finding out why you’re in the will, that’s all. Can’t a friend do just that?”

  “Yes, a friend can do just that, but I just don’t know what to make of this. I didn’t think we were still friends.”

  “I just want to see if you’ll go with me. And maybe talk. That’s all.”

  I grabbed my cigar from the ashtray and inhaled a lungful. “In that case, count me in. I haven’t been to New York in while.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “So what do you think might be in the will?”

  “I have no idea. My father said the attorney was evasive. All he would say was that whatever it is, it has both financial and sentimental value. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Sounds mysterious.”

  “Yes it does. I remember how much you liked mysteries.”

  “I still do.”

  “I thought so. Maybe we can go out for lunch afterwards.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Me, too. So—?”

  “So what?”

  “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

  “And what question is that?”

  “You mean you don’t remember?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Enlighten you? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “So what was the question? Or have you already forgotten it?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Hmmm, let me think—”

  I chuckled. “So what’s the question?”

  Maddy exhaled loud enough for me to hear it. “Will you come with me to New York?”

  “Of course I will. I could use a change of scenery. So when does this will reading take place?” I grinned at the idea of seeing Maddy again as I forced myself not to let my mind wander.

  “I’m not sure. All I heard was that Aunt Polly’s attorney would contact my father again once all of the parties involved are notified.”

  “He hasn’t notified me, yet.”

  “I’m sure he will. You were one of the reasons why he called my father. He’s trying to locate you.”

  “I see, said the blind man.” I was intrigued at the prospect of seeing Maddy again and also at the prospect at going to New York with her. We’d always had a lot of fun there.

  “Just remember not to expect anything, okay?”

  “I know.” I felt the slight twinge of a letdown.

  “Are you still smoking those stinky cigars?” When we were together, Maddy was adamant about how much she hated the pungent stench of cigar smoke, which she insisted she was allergic to. And she hated it even more when I had discovered Havana Coronas.

  “Uh, no,” I lied as I snubbed out the smoke into the ashtray and chuckled. It was my good fortune that Maddy couldn’t see or smell the cigar from seventeen miles away.

  “Are you still writing?”

  “Yes I am. I’m editor at the Spruce Run Bugler, now.”

  “So I’ve heard. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I now make enough where I can pay my bills.”

  “So you’re not homeless and living under a bridge somewhere?”

  “Nope. My troll days are over.”

  We both laughed. It felt good and it made me hopeful.

  “Well,” Maddy said, “I guess I should go.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “It was good to hear you again. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

  “You and me, both. I’ll call you when I find out about the will reading, okay?”

  “I look forward to it. Talk with you later.”

  “Bye.”

  I cradled the blower and smiled. Maddy always had a way of making me smile. Even after everything that had happened between us, she could still make me smile. Her sense of humor was amazing and she was never dull.

  But was I really certain that I wanted to see her again? Sure, we had a history together, but I wasn’t so sure, now that I had cradled the blower. Of course, she did say it was just a will reading and nothing else. What was I to do?

  As I gazed out the bay window into the darkened evening sky, I began to daydream about her. I couldn’t help it. As I did, the cat walked back into the room. Maybe it was giving me a second chance. Or maybe it was back for the simple reason that it was hungry and its bowl was empty.

  “Was that cool, or what?” I asked. “I was thinking about her and then she calls me. What are the odds of that?”

  The cat, of course, said nothing.

  I got up from my desk and paced around the room. I was beginning to doubt myself. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for me to go to New York with Maddy. After all, I hadn’t seen her in six years. This was crazy. How could I face her again? It was obvious that she no longer had any feelings for me and had moved on. But for me, there hadn’t been anyone in my life since her.

  It wasn’t that I was disinterested in meeting anyone else. It’s just that all other women I met had one huge thing in common: they weren’t Maddy.

  Still, I was wary. Did I have any shot of having a second chance with her? I doubted it. I’d have a better chance of creating a J.K. Rowling television sitcom, in twenty years from the present, which would feature Harry as a teacher at Hogwarts, and it would be called Welcome Back Potter.

  I went to the bedroom and turned on the TV, and found Casablanca on TCM. I reclined on the bed and watched. I don’t know why, but as Humphrey Bogart said, “Here’s looking at you, kid,” I couldn’t help remembering what the author Kinky Friedman had once said, that no one ever marries the person they first watched Casablanca with.

  Maddy and I never had a chance.

  Chapter Four

  The telephones blasted off the following morning and awoke me into reality. I looked at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed. It was past eight-thirty.

  “I sure am popular today,” I croaked as I skidded out of bed and out to the desk in the living room. I picked up the blower on the right.

  “Start talkin’.”

  “F.O.T.! F.O.T.!” shouted the voice on the wire.

  “Two days in a row, Duck? People are going to talk.”

  “Let them talk. Besides, I’m more worried about what the F.O.T.s are doing with farm animals late at night.”

  “You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”

  “Yeah, yeah, tell that to the ex-wife. She used to tell me I was an animal.”

  “Too much information,” I snickered.

  It’s hard to believe Ducky and I had managed to be friends for close to thirty years. And it was harder to believe that we were still friends after all the trouble we managed to get ourselves into.

  Ducky and I became friends in a most natural way. Or maybe it was in an unnatural way. Either way, I’ll report, you decide. We had first met each other as five-year-olds in Kindergarten and bonded almost right away. In high school, we discovered that we liked to drink. He loved Anheuser Busch and I was a Jameson Irish Whiskey groupie, and in college we had the reputation of being the two drunkest guests at every party we went to. I don’t know ho
w either of us graduated.

  “So what’s up?” I asked.

  “I just wanted to let you know that the Livingston boys will be spending the rest of the week locked up until they’re arraigned next Monday.”

  “Good to know. I’m glad you called.”

  “You’re welcome, bro.”

  “I’m glad you called for another reason, too.”

  “Why? You in trouble?”

  “No. But something’s happened.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Maddy called me last night.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “‘Fraid not. She called to tell me that her Aunt Polly passed away.”

  “For real? Huh. I guess the old biddy shouldn’t have drank all that cough syrup.”

  “Hey, be nice.”

  “That was nice. You should hear me when I’m not nice.”

  “Do you want to hear the rest of it?” I sensed that Ducky was going off on one of his tangents again.

  “Okay. Tell me.”

  “Alright. Maddy said my name is mentioned in her aunt’s will.”

  “You? No way.”

  “It’s true. Maddy said so.”

  “Wow. So what did the old girl leave you?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m wondering if you could help me find out ahead of time.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Yeah, I know. I guess I was hoping that maybe your expertise would help me find out what’s in it.”

  “No can do, bro. There’s no legal way to find out what’s in a will until it’s probated.”

  “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  “Sorry, Mac.”

  “There’s one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Maddy asked me to go to the will reading with her.”

  “She did what?” he shouted.

  “Yeah, she invited me to go along.”

  “Wow. What in the world did she do that for?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she still loves my cunning mind and glib tongue.”

  “Perhaps she’s forgotten about how you treated her.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I still felt guilty.

  “Maybe she’ll give you a second chance.”