Lester narrowed his eyes on the kid. “What’s he done?”
“Nothing. Just make sure nobody bothers him while I look for his sister. Got it?”
“Protective custody.” Lester dipped his head in the affirmative, almost pitching his hat off in the process. “You can count on me.” He marched up the walk to sit down by Jesse.
No sign of the girl on the road or when Michael pulled into the circular drive in front of the Chandler house. The place looked peaceful enough. The only noise was the cars leaving the cemetery beside it. The graveside service must be over. Michael glanced up at the tower room. Maggie surely wouldn’t be there. Not after finding Sonny Elwood’s body yesterday. She’d been terrified. The only thing that could possibly make her venture back to the house was worry about her little brother.
Michael didn’t disturb the yellow police tape strung across the door and around the posts at the top of the porch steps. Instead he headed for the backyard.
As he went around the house, he could see the tent over Geraldine’s gravesite on the far side of the cemetery where the workers would be preparing to fill in her grave. Across the fence closer to the Chandler house were older graves, including the stone spire that marked the grave of his ancestor, Jasper Keane. Michael’s roots in Keane County went deep.
He couldn’t think about how those roots might be what made Alex say no. Not now. He needed to find Maggie.
34
Malinda caught sight of the police car’s flashing lights in her rearview mirror after she turned into the cemetery. She frowned and hoped it wasn’t Michael with some new emergency.
Malinda shook her head. She couldn’t be borrowing trouble every time she saw police lights. She hadn’t been able to see who was driving. It could have been Lester chasing somebody going five miles over the speed limit. No reason to be concerned at all.
Of course, she had just passed Michael in his cruiser as she followed the hearse to the cemetery. And he hadn’t looked at her. That could have simply been in respect of the dead. A person couldn’t very well wave at people in a funeral procession. But he could have looked at her. A new worry scratched awake inside her as she gathered with the other mourners around Geraldine’s grave.
She made herself listen as the preacher read the Twenty-third Psalm and prayed yet again nearly the same prayer he’d prayed at the funeral parlor. Justin Thatcher pulled a few of the red roses from the spray on Geraldine’s casket and handed one to Geraldine’s son and then to Betty Jean, who had obviously taken it upon herself to be Grant’s best friend. The young man seemed comfortable with that. Good. The thought of Betty Jean getting involved with that Vernon Trent had been a concern.
Malinda didn’t wait to speak to Grant again. She’d done right by Geraldine, attended her funeral and burial, but now she’d give in to her fears and call Michael on her cell phone. She didn’t like using the thing, but no sense getting ulcers from worrying unnecessarily.
Back in her car she dug the phone out of her purse to punch in Michael’s number when the fetched thing rang in her hand.
Reece Sheridan. Why would he be calling her? Worry exploded inside her.
“I’m sorry to bother you.” Reece sounded worried too. “But I don’t know what to do. Alexandria and Michael must have had some sort of disagreement. They were talking outside under their tree and then she came inside and ran upstairs.”
“Did you ask her what was wrong?” Malinda’s heart sank. She knew without Reese telling her what was wrong.
“She says she doesn’t want to talk about it. That she did the right thing. The only thing.” Reece hesitated. “But she won’t stop crying.”
“She turned Michael down, didn’t she?”
“That’s what I surmise. She’s always been ready to listen to you. I can’t stand seeing her like this. You know Alex never cries.”
“I’ll come.” Malinda punched off her phone and stared at it a long moment. But it would be better to talk to Alexandria before she talked to Michael.
At Reece’s house, she spotted the yellow rose under the maple tree the second she got out of her car. The sight of it stabbed her heart. Discarded. Left there to wither. She stepped off the walk to pick it up. Reece opened the door before she got to the porch.
“Is she still upstairs?” They had no need of greetings. Their concern was united and focused solely on the two children they loved. Perhaps not their normal parents, but parents just the same.
“No. She came down. Went in the kitchen.” A frown furrowed Reece’s forehead. He looked too pale. “She’s sitting there staring at the wall.”
“Maybe she’ll talk to me.” Malinda touched Reece’s arm and stared straight into his eyes. “I suppose whatever she decides, whatever they decide, we’ll have to accept it.”
“I know.” Reece blew out a little breath.“But I had hoped they would end up together.”
“Same here, but we can’t live their lives for them.” Those words were hard for Malinda to say. She had so long dreamed of Michael and Alexandria marrying.
She left him in the hall and went toward the kitchen. Alexandria was at the table staring at the wall, just as Reece said. A notepad lay in front of her and she held a pen that she had yet to use to write the first word on the page.
Malinda laid the rose in the middle of the table and sat down across from Alexandria. The girl looked at the rose and then at Malinda.
“Uncle Reece shouldn’t have called you.” Alexandria’s eyes were red. “He should have let Michael tell you whatever he wanted to tell you himself.”
“What would he tell me, dear?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” She stared at the blank pad as though wishing words onto it.
“Then it’s good I came so you can tell me what’s wrong.”
Alexandria looked up and a tear slid out of her eye and down her cheek. She didn’t brush it away. “I told him no.”
“I see.” Malinda didn’t need Alexandria to tell her what the question was.
“No, you don’t see.” Alexandria leaned across the table toward Malinda. “I had to say no. I had to.”
“Why did you have to?” Malinda tried to keep her voice casual. If she let her emotions match Alexandria’s, they wouldn’t get anywhere.
“Because he’s your nephew. He belongs in Hidden Springs. He wants to have children. He deserves to have children.” Alexandria looked defeated as she slumped back in her chair.
“I see,” Malinda said again. “Then perhaps you did the right thing, but don’t say it’s because of me. Say it’s because you don’t love him enough or he doesn’t love you enough.”
Another tear escaped from Alexandria’s eye and followed the same trail down her cheek. She stared at the blank pad of paper, as though hoping to see answers there. “I don’t think I can give him up forever. Even if it’s the right thing. I feel as though half of me is being ripped away.”
“You don’t have to give him up.” Malinda moistened her lips and pushed out words she didn’t want to say, but she had to think of Michael and not herself. “He’ll go wherever you go. He loves you more than Hidden Springs.”
“But what am I going to do, Malinda? I sent him away.”
“Call him. Tell him you were wrong.” Malinda reached across the table to squeeze Alexandria’s hand. “The two of you need to give love a chance.”
Alexandria pulled her phone out of her pocket and stared at it as though she’d forgotten how to make it work. “I can’t do this. I have to see his face. To see if he really wants me to change my answer.”
“He will want you to change your answer.” Malinda had no doubt of that.
“But what about the children?” A note of panic crept into Alexandria’s voice.
“What children?”
“The ones he wants to have.” Alexandria’s voice was barely over a whisper.
“And you don’t?”
“I would be a terrible mother. You know I would.”
She looke
d so worried that Malinda almost smiled. “I know nothing of the sort, but my dear Alexandria, this isn’t a trial where you have to know all the answers before you start. This is life where love gives you a beginning. You hold the hand of the man you love and move toward the future with trust that within that love, you will find answers that work for the two of you.”
“I do love him, Malinda. I don’t think I can live without him.”
“Then go find him.”
“But how? He could be anywhere.”
“Call Betty Jean. She’ll know where he is.”
Malinda waited until Alexandria disappeared down the hall. The front door opened and closed. For another minute she sat where she was, her eyes closed while a prayer without words rose within her. A bit of Scripture came to mind.
Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.
She stood up and found a vase for the yellow rose.
35
The backyard was empty. No Maggie. Michael didn’t even see the cat. The back door was closed. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.
He radioed Lester, but Maggie hadn’t come back to the trailer. Of course Michael couldn’t be sure she had come to the Chandler house to look for Jesse. She could be searching for the kid in the trailer park. It would take her a while to make it around the neighborhood.
He was headed back to his car, when a noise stopped him. Miss Marble stared out the kitchen window at him. The cat must have slipped inside without being noticed while the detectives were there earlier.
The cat wasn’t hurting anything. He could come back to let her out later after he found Maggie. Buck had left the house key at the office. But when he started to turn away, the cat frantically scratched her claws against the windowpane.
“All right. I’ll give the window a try.” Michael stepped up on the porch and lifted on the window, but it didn’t budge. Either locked or frozen shut by years of paint. The cat butted her head against the glass and mewed piteously.
“Sorry, cat.” Michael muttered. “You’ll just have to wait.”
He started to turn away when a new sound caught his attention. Not a meow, but a thud. Like something fell or was dropped. Inside. Where nobody was supposed to be. Maybe Maggie wasn’t as frightened as he thought. She could have brought her mother’s key to go back inside.
That didn’t seem reasonable, but when he tried the door, the knob turned easily. He pushed it open and stepped inside. Miss Marble jumped down from the window and raced past him to freedom.
The kitchen table was shoved to the side. On top of it were a couple of boxes stuffed with newspaper-wrapped items, as though somebody was packing to move. A framed painting leaned against the wall near the door.
Michael stood still to listen. Outside a bird sang a cheerful song and cars passed on the road, but the house was silent. Then he heard what might be a footstep on the stairs. Maybe Maggie. Maybe not. He slipped his gun out of his holster and reached for his radio. Before he could key it on, a board in the doorway creaked behind him. He whirled around as something crashed into his head. His knees buckled and everything went black.
Maggie had her hand on the inside doorknob of the broom closet, ready to peek out to see if the coast was clear. The man had gone out the back door earlier while the woman climbed back up the stairs, her steps light compared to the man’s heavy footsteps out the door. It was amazing what a person could hear when every inch of her strained to catch the slightest noise.
She had counted to one hundred while she listened to be sure it was safe to step out of the closet. Then the cat meowed and the back door opened again. The cat’s paws skittered across the floor as she wasted no time getting outside. If only Maggie could escape with her. Maggie’s heart began pounding up in her ears as she waited for the man to go outside again or up the hall toward the front of the house.
But the man didn’t move across the floor. Instead he must be standing still to listen, the same as Maggie. Why would he do that? Unless he suspected she was there. She held her breath and dropped her hand away from the knob. She stayed frozen where she was, afraid to move and maybe knock against a broom or mop that would give her away.
A floorboard creaked, followed by a thump. A grunt of pain and then a crash that shook the floor. She stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.
Someone came running down the steps and past the closet. “What have you done?” The woman’s voice was tight, panicked.
“You rather I invited him in to arrest us?” The man sounded irritated.
“I can’t go to jail. I can’t.”
“You may not want to, but you definitely can.”
“What are you doing?” The woman’s voice rose again. “Don’t shoot him!”
The man laughed. “You weren’t that concerned about me shooting Sonny Elwood.”
“I didn’t want you to shoot Sonny.”
“You could have fooled me, but that’s neither here nor there. Sonny got greedy. Greed brings its own punishment.”
“To us too?” She sounded ready to cry now.
“Only if you are dumb like Sonny. Brace up, girl. We don’t have time for tears. We need to get out of here.”
“Please don’t shoot him. Please. Michael’s such a nice guy.”
Michael. Maggie pulled in her breath. If only she’d peeked out of the closet a few seconds before the man came back to the house. She could have warned Michael.
“A nice guy policeman.”
“Can’t we just tie him up or something?” She was pleading now.
Michael’s radio chattered awake. “Michael, Mrs. Gibson called. Miss Fonda got out the door again. Can you track her down?”
After a pause, the man said, “Ten four.” He didn’t sound much like Michael, but with the static on the radio, the dispatcher might not notice.
“Good thing there’s an off button on these things.” The radio chatter went silent. “They’ll think he went offline.”
“What if Miss Fonda shows up here?”
“You better hope, for her sake, she forgets the way.”
“You can’t shoot everybody.”
“Only those I have to. But it could be since I knocked out our nice deputy before he got a look at me, we can spare him. Get that packing tape off the table.”
The sound of tape stripping off the roll made Maggie shiver.
“Tape his eyes shut,” the man said. “That way if he comes to before we get out of here, he can’t see us and I won’t have to shoot him.”
“I don’t know why I ever got mixed up with you.” The woman sounded disgusted.
The man laughed again. “Don’t you remember? You needed money. To buy your little pills.”
The woman began sobbing. Maggie wanted to do the same.
“Don’t worry, girl. He’ll probably scoot his way out of here and escape the fire.”
“I thought you wanted to get more stuff out first.”
“Circumstances have changed. It’s time to leave this burg behind. You can go with me or stick around and play innocent. Maybe the deputy here won’t figure things out and nicely arrest you.”
“But what about the senator? He’s supposed to meet me here, remember?”
“Call him. Tell him you’re changing the meeting place to the Stop and Go out by the interstate. A good place for a little exchange of cash. His pocket to ours. Now get those boxes out to the truck while I set some books on fire.”
He was going to burn down the house. Maggie thought of her notebook full of stories and poems hidden in the tower room. But she couldn’t worry about lost stories right now. She had to figure a way out of this mess. If that man saw her, he’d shoot her. Simple as that. Her knees felt weak.
The thing to do was make sure he didn’t see her. The two would leave the house and then she could either wake up Michael or drag him outside. All she had to do was wait until they left. She’d have time before the fire spread.
The woman went out the door. Maggie counted to a hund
red. Then somebody was coming inside again. Not the woman. Maggie knew the sound of her steps by now.
Maggie cracked open the closet. Miss Fonda. That changed everything. The man would kill the old lady in a second. Maggie had to do something. Her mind was racing almost as fast as her heart was pounding.
The man said he was going to set books on fire. That must mean in the library. No door out of that room except the one into the sitting room. If she could block that door. But how? Think, Maggie, think.
Once when the lock on their trailer door was broken, her mother had fastened the door by propping a straight-back chair under the knob. She’d dusted the spindles on a chair like that in the entrance hallway dozens of times. She pulled in a deep breath for courage and stepped out of the closet directly in front of Miss Fonda.
Miss Fonda looked surprised. “Audrey?”
Maggie put her finger over her lips to shush the old woman. Then she raced up the hallway, grabbed the chair, and tiptoed into the sitting room. Through the doorway into the library, she glimpsed the man tearing pages out of books and piling them on the floor under the table. His back was to her. That was lucky. But she smelled smoke. He must have already lit some of the paper.
She slammed the door shut and shoved the top chair slat under the knob. With strength she didn’t know she had, she shoved the couch over against that.
The man yelled and then a gun went off. The bullet thudded into the heavy oak door. Maggie ran as fast as she could back to the kitchen where Miss Fonda was still standing in the same place, a puzzled look on her face.
“We have to get out of here, Miss Fonda.” She put her arm around her and turned her toward the door. But she couldn’t leave without Michael. The man would get out of the room. The woman would be back.
“Whatever is wrong with you, Audrey?” Miss Fonda refused to budge when Maggie tried to move her toward the door.
“Only everything.” Another gunshot sounded from the front of the house. “We’ve got to help Michael.”
Murder Is No Accident Page 24
