Murder Is No Accident

by A. H. Gabhart

  “I’m right here, Maggie.” The kid did try to pull away from her then. “You don’t have to squeeze me so hard.”

  She relaxed her hold a little, but she didn’t turn him loose. Or answer him. She kept her eyes on Michael. “He’s my responsibility, you see. When Mom isn’t home. I couldn’t let anything happen to him.”

  “You didn’t.” Michael understood her big sister concern, but plenty of other things were far from understood. The radio buzzed on his belt and he heard Betty Jean’s voice. He clicked in a code to let her know he was all right and would call her momentarily, but he needed to get Maggie’s story first. “All right. You came over to start dusting. Then what?”

  “I went into the room Miss Fonda calls a parlor. One of the pictures was off the wall and the couch pillows were on the floor. Then I looked over at the library room and books were thrown on the floor. I started to pick them up. That’s when I saw him staring at me.”

  “He?”

  “Mr. Elwood.”

  “He saw you?” Michael asked.

  “No.” Her face went even whiter. “He was dead, but his eyes were open. Just like Mrs. Harper’s.” Her eyes flared wider then and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Michael kept his eyes directly on her. “So you were here when Mrs. Harper fell last Friday.”

  “No.” The denial burst from her.

  “Maggie,” Michael said. “You have to tell me the truth.”

  Her head drooped. “Okay. I was here, but I didn’t see anything. I mean, I heard her fall, but I didn’t see it.” She looked back up at Michael and her words tumbled out super fast. “And I didn’t want anybody to know I was here. Miss Fonda said I could go up to her tower room whenever I wanted, but I didn’t think she would remember telling me that and I’d get in trouble. Maybe even arrested for trespassing. So I left.”

  Anthony started to say something, but Michael held up a hand to stop him. “But you called first.”

  Maggie pulled in a shuddering breath. “It didn’t seem right to just leave Mrs. Harper all alone in here without telling somebody.”

  “So you called 911. You didn’t see anybody else here that day?”

  She hesitated and blew out another breath. “I didn’t see anybody. I was up in the tower room. But somebody else was here. They knocked a lamp off one of the tables and it broke. Mrs. Harper ran up the stairs and said she was calling the sheriff. The other person sounded sort of panicked and asked her not to. Then I heard all this noise when I guess Mrs. Harper fell down the stairs.”

  “What happened to the other person?”

  “They left. I heard the back door open and close. At least I thought I did. So I climbed down out of the tower room and found Mrs. Harper. I would have helped her if she hadn’t been dead. Honest, I would have.” She stared at Michael, her eyes begging him to believe her. “Even if I did get in trouble or arrested. But she was dead. Me sticking around wasn’t going to change that.”

  “Michael wouldn’t arrest you.” Anthony reached and took Maggie’s hand. “Would you, Michael?”

  “We’re way past that now,” Michael said. “So you saw Mrs. Harper, called 911 on her phone, and left. By the back door too?”

  “Yes. I had Mom’s key. I had to lock the door.”

  “You didn’t see anybody?”

  “No, but—” She looked at her little brother and stopped.

  “But what?” Michael pushed her.

  “I guess I have to tell you. After this.” She took a quick glance toward the front of the house again. “He called me. Not Mr. Elwood. Well, I don’t think it was him anyway. Some man. It was after we went fishing Saturday. I thought it was Anthony calling.” Color bloomed in her cheeks. “But it wasn’t. The man said I better not say anything to anybody about whatever I saw on Friday. Or he’d do stuff to make me sorry.”

  “What stuff?”

  “I don’t know.” She tightened her hold on her little brother again. Her voice went down to almost a whisper. “But he knew I had a little brother.”

  “How’d he know that?” Anthony said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I guess he saw me,” the little boy said. “Out in the yard or something.”

  “Yeah.” Maggie barely breathed the word.

  “Was it the same person you heard in the house before Mrs. Harper fell?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t think so. The man on the phone sounded weird. Like he was disguising his voice or something.”

  A board creaked outside on the porch and a shadow fell across the window. Anthony moved in front of Maggie to shield her. Michael pulled his gun out of his holster and spun toward the door. The cat hissed and leaped back up on the refrigerator.

  Hank Leland stepped up to the open door, saw Michael’s gun, and raised his hands. “Whoa, Mike. It’s just me.”

  “You know better than to sneak around in somebody’s backyard.” Michael shoved his gun back in his holster. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation. “I could have shot you.”

  “Kinda jumpy, aren’t you?” Hank lowered his hands and let his gaze settle on the kids as he fingered the camera hanging around his neck. “You catch these kids pilfering in here or something?”

  “Or something.”

  “He’s the newspaperman, isn’t he?” Maggie didn’t wait for anybody to answer as she pulled her hand away from Anthony and tried to cover her face. She kept her hold on her little brother. “I can’t have my picture in the paper. He might see it and know I talked to you.”

  Michael wanted to tell Maggie she didn’t have any reason to worry, but two people were already dead. He hadn’t stopped that. But he could stop the picture taking. He looked from Maggie to Hank. “No pictures of the kids, Hank. None. Zero. Zilch. Got that?”

  “Whatever you say, boss.” Hank stepped back, his hands halfway up again. “But why do I get the feeling I’m going to want to take some pictures?”

  “Later.” Michael pulled his gun out again. “Right now you stand there and don’t let anybody in. Got that?”

  “Got it.” Hank took up position just inside the door.

  Michael looked straight at Anthony. “And you stay here too. All of you. Until I check things out.”

  “Check out what?” Hank Leland pulled his little notebook out of his pocket, but Michael didn’t answer him.

  Michael stepped into the hallway. The blue from his lights out front flashed through the windows and again he wished he’d killed them.

  The house had that same silent feel it had on Friday. Death was much too common in this house.

  24

  Things in the front room were just the way Maggie said. Pillows scattered. Pictures crooked or on the floor. But it was an island of serenity compared to the adjoining room. Books had been raked off the shelves and dumped every which way on the floor. Somebody must have been desperately searching for something.

  Was that before or after they shot Sonny Elwood? Because Maggie was right about that too. Sonny slumped in the chair with blood staining his white dress shirt. Michael might have said the man didn’t even own a dress shirt, but here he was. Dressed for death.

  At least two bullet wounds. One in his arm that must have hit a vein. The other truer that surely killed him at once. The man’s skin was cool to touch, so the murder had happened some time ago. And murder it was. No way to consider this anything but.

  Michael went back into the sitting room and got the crocheted throw off the couch to drape over Sonny. Just days ago, it was Sonny who had been relieved when Justin covered Geraldine’s body. What was it that made it so necessary to hide the face of death? But Michael felt better with Sonny’s meeting-eternity stare out of his sight, even if the blanket was a ludicrous green and orange.

  He pulled out his phone and called Betty Jean.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Michael.” Betty Jean’s voice exploded out of the phone. “You have to quit cutting me off.”

  He held the phone away from his ear. “S
orry, Betty Jean, but I had to make sure the kids were all right first.”

  Betty Jean blew out a breath. “What kids? And are they okay?”

  “Maggie Greene and her little brother and Anthony Blake. They’re okay. But Sonny Elwood isn’t.”

  “Sonny? What’s wrong with Sonny?”

  “Somebody shot him. He’s dead. You’ll have to call out the troops. Buck and Justin.” Michael paused. “You don’t have to worry about Hank chasing after them. He’s already here.”

  “He didn’t shoot Sonny, did he?” She sounded a little worried.

  “Why would he do that?” Michael frowned.

  “I don’t know. Why would anybody shoot Sonny?”

  “I guess that’s something I’ve got to find out, but Hank just heard my sirens and followed me here.”

  “Everybody in town heard your sirens. You about scared me to death.” Her voice rose again. “If things like this keep happening, I’m going to hunt a new job. I don’t care what Uncle Al says.”

  “You can’t desert us, Betty Jean. We need you.”

  “I need people to quit getting shot.” Another long sigh. “But okay, I’ll call Justin and radio Buck. He probably won’t answer if he’s off duty. You know Buck.”

  “Send the right code on the radio and he’ll call in. We need to have the state police in on this.”

  “I hate that I know the homicide code without looking it up.” She hesitated for a second. “You’re sure it’s homicide?”

  “No doubt on that one.”

  “Then what about Geraldine?”

  “Not sure. Definitely some new questions there.” That was all he seemed to have right now. Questions without answers. “Need to handle this with Sonny first.”

  “So you don’t want to talk to Grant about his mother yet?” Something about Betty Jean’s voice was too tight.

  “He’s not there hearing you, is he?” Michael asked.

  “No, but I’m supposed to meet him later. Dinner for old times’ sake, you know.” She sounded a little too casual.

  Seemed romance was flowering all around Betty Jean. “What about Vernon?”

  “What about him?”

  “Nothing.” Michael didn’t have time to think about romance. Betty Jean’s or his. “Look, just make the calls. And try to get hold of Mary Greene at the Fast Serve if she hasn’t left yet. Tell her what’s going on. Maggie found the body. She’s in a shape.”

  “Right.” Betty Jean was all business as she disconnected. She’d get things rolling.

  Michael went back to the kitchen where Anthony was holding Maggie’s hand again and the little brother stayed frozen by her side. Hank stood in the door, trying to look in every direction at once. The lens cap was on his camera. For once, he seemed to have listened to Michael.

  But as soon as he saw Michael, he deserted his post at the door and pulled out his notebook. “Okay, Mike. What’s happening here? These kids look like they’ve seen a ghost or something.” Hank pointed his stub of a pencil at them.

  “No ghosts.” Michael wished he could order the editor back to his newspaper office on Main Street.

  “Then what? Cut to the chase and tell me what’s going on.”

  “All right. Here’s an official statement for you.” He might as well tell Hank. Murder couldn’t be kept secret in a little town like Hidden Springs or in any town. “It appears Sonny Elwood may have surprised an intruder here. All indications suggest said intruder shot Mr. Elwood.”

  Hank looked up from his scribbling. “Dead?”

  “Dead.” Michael kept his face expressionless and his voice level. Hank whistled under his breath as Michael went on. “The body was discovered at approximately 4:00 p.m. by someone hired to clean the house. No need for names. She’s underage.”

  “Odd cleaning crew,” Hank muttered.

  “I couldn’t leave my brother alone,” Maggie spoke up in a shaky voice.

  “One of them isn’t your brother.” Hank looked from the little brother to Anthony.

  “Back off, Hank.” Michael shot him a hard look. “They’re kids.”

  “Whatever you say, Mike. Any suspects? Motives?” Hank peered over at him, then back at the kids. “Witnesses to the crime?”

  “The incident will be fully investigated and the public kept informed as necessary.”

  “In other words, you don’t know squat.” Hank stuck the notebook back in his pocket and fingered his camera. “You gonna let me take pictures?”

  “Not now. You need to step outside until the crime scene is secured.” Michael pointed at the door.

  “A few minutes ago you were ready to make me a deputy and now you’re kicking me outside with the cat.” Hank made a face.

  “No, the cat can stay.” Michael glanced at the calico cat staring at Hank from the top of the refrigerator.

  “Very funny.” Hank wasn’t smiling.

  “Nothing funny about any of this.” Michael dropped his official tone. “You know I have to secure the area.”

  “Just a peek?”

  “No.” Michael stared at Hank. “I can escort you outside if necessary.”

  “I’m going.” Hank held up his hands in surrender and backed out onto the porch. He even had the good sense and grace to step away from the windows. Michael stepped across the room to shut the door.

  “You want us to go outside too?” Anthony asked.

  “Not yet.” Michael settled his eyes on Anthony. “Tell me why you’re here.”

  “I wanted to meet Maggie’s mother. I was going to ask if she’d let me come over to their house to help Maggie with her algebra homework. Maggie’s having trouble with it.”

  That wasn’t the only trouble Maggie was having. Michael shifted his gaze to her. She looked ready to fall apart. “It’s going to be all right, Maggie.”

  “But now he’ll know I told you.” Maggie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “He said he’d be watching me.” She tightened her arm around the little brother.

  “We’ll catch whoever did this.” He did his best to sound very sure. It was a promise he intended to keep. He couldn’t imagine who in Hidden Springs would threaten a child, but then he couldn’t imagine who would shoot Sonny Elwood. What in the house could be reason for murder?

  Sirens sounded as the troops came toward the house. Somebody knocked on the front door. Probably Justin with his gurney for the body. Then Maggie’s mother burst through the back door. Hank peered inside but didn’t follow her.

  The little brother jerked away from Maggie and ran to his mother, who hugged him close and then scooted him along with her toward Maggie. Both of them started talking at once. Anthony, displaced as Maggie’s protector, looked a little lost as he stepped back. The cat jumped down from the refrigerator and wound around Mrs. Greene’s legs the way she had around Lana Waverly’s the day before.

  Lana had told him that morning Sonny was going to show her the house today. Had she been there and left before Sonny was killed? He couldn’t imagine her shooting Sonny, but somebody had.

  Michael ordered Anthony to stay put when he went past him to open the front door to let in Justin. He had more questions to ask.

  It was going to be a long day. Michael thought of his planned dinner with Alex. No time to worry about that now. Murder investigations trumped marriage proposals.

  The rooms upstairs were in the same shambles as the downstairs rooms. Vases upended. Some broken. More pictures off the walls. Drawers dumped on the floor. Mattresses slit open. Once he was sure the house was secure, he asked Mary Greene to walk through it with him to see if she could tell what, if anything, was missing.

  The destruction distressed Mary. “I hope Miss Fonda doesn’t see this. She always took such pride in keeping everything neat and orderly. Just the way it was when she was a child.”

  “Her sister lived here for a while. Wonder if she felt the same way.”

  “Oh no.” Mary carefully righted a large Chinese vase. “Miss Fonda said her sister didn’t care
about the family antiques. That when she moved in, she bought all modern furniture. But Miss Fonda convinced her to store the old things in the garage instead of selling them. Then after her sister died, she brought it all back to the way it was when she was growing up. The poor woman found her greatest happiness living in the past. Of course, I didn’t know her husband. She might have been different before he passed.”

  “How long have you been cleaning for her?”

  Mary considered her answer for a moment. “Maybe nine, ten years. Maggie was just a little girl when I started. Miss Fonda would tell her stories while I worked. They were great buddies.”

  “Then Miss Fonda probably did give Maggie permission to come into the house.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but she still shouldn’t have come over here without telling me. She knew better.” Mary frowned and then rubbed her hand across her forehead. She blew out a breath. “And look at the trouble it’s gotten her into. Being where she shouldn’t be.”

  “She didn’t do any of this.”

  “I know. Do you think she’s really in danger?” The woman’s frown was back. A worried one now.

  “I wish I could tell you there was nothing to worry about, Mrs. Greene, but somebody killed Sonny Elwood. Someone may have caused Geraldine Harper to fall down those steps. Someone threatened Maggie. You can’t ignore that. I can’t ignore that.”

  “You’re scaring me.” Her face went stiff.

  She was right to be scared, he thought now as he drove away from the Chandler house. Murder should scare people. It was his job to protect people and keep murders from happening. He had worked out a schedule of patrols around the Greenes’ trailer park with Buck. Whoever had threatened Maggie would know they were protecting her.

  Mary Greene had noted several things gone. Two of Miss Fonda’s favorite figurines. A painting. Some decorative plates. Maybe more. But it was hard to tell for sure what was or wasn’t missing in all the mess.

  The things she noted hardly seemed reason for murder. But then people got killed over less all the time. Sometimes nothing more serious than an argument over a fence. Or a cat.