by Teresa Trent
“Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “Do you hear that? That’s what I heard earlier. Maybe whoever it was came back.” We were on the south side of the hospital, and the crime scene, with its police officer standing guard, was on the north side. Why would someone be walking around up there? It was understandable that some Halloween prank might involve seeing a real crime scene, but what would entice someone to the other side of the building?
“What? I don’t hear …” she stopped mid-sentence as she, too, heard the footsteps above us.
“Who’s upstairs? Boy howdy, Judd will have their hide.”
I headed back to the door that led to the stairwell. Maybe if I could sneak up the stairs this time, I would catch whoever this was. I pulled open the security door, and a sizable rusty metal tube came hurtling down the stairs. Before I could get out of the way, it smacked right into me.
*****
Twenty minutes later I sat inside the back of an ambulance while the paramedics checked me out. “It’s amazing you didn’t get more hurt from that thing, Betsy,” said Stanley. The television crew was trying so hard to eliminate the sound of any ambulances and here they had to call one directly to the place they were filming.”
Danny was standing by the door. “I’m surprised it didn’t squash you like a bug.”
I lifted my head to nod with a pained smile.
He continued, “I’m just glad my mom was there. It was your lucky day, Betsy.”
“It certainly was.” Maggie eyes kept looking me over up and down as her hand patted my shoulder.
“Mom!” Zach ran across the field from out of the trees followed by Tyler, Leo Fitzpatrick and Benny Mason. Benny stood with the rest of the Scouts, who were hovering on the edge of the woods.
“I’m okay,” I told Zach as he barreled into me. We had to quit meeting like this.
“You don’t look okay,” said Fitzpatrick.
“Someone decided to try to get rid of us by throwing an old hot water heater on Betsy,” said Maggie.
“Uncle Judd is looking around up there,” Danny said to me. “If somebody’s wandering around up there, he’ll find them. He finds the bad guys.” Danny and Zach nodded their heads in unison.
Maggie smiled. “He certainly will find whoever it is up there.”
Stanley added, “It seems like at every turn something happens to stop the filming of this program.”
Howard walked up now, running his hand through his flyaway gray hair.
Maggie held my hand. “We know a lot of people have been against this whole thing, but I didn’t think anyone was mean enough to do this.”
“So does this mean the investigation is off?” Howard asked.
“Howard … Maggie …” Stanley raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh. “I know you have your hearts set on this, but look at what we just went through. Are you sure this is a good idea? I might be able to work out some sort of a partial refund.”
Howard tilted his head to the side, looking up at the old hospital. He turned to us with a rapid movement. “I know no one has thought of this, but this may be an action performed by a nonhuman.”
Leo Fitzpatrick, who had been quiet, perked up at that one. “Nonhuman?” he said.
“Nonhuman?” Stanley echoed.
“Of course, this is the classic behavior of a poltergeist, or bad spirit. I think there might be a negative force that will do anything to keep us away.”
“Well what are we supposed to do about it?” I asked.
He shot a glance at Maggie, his eyes starting to bug out at the thought of it.
“Call a priest.”
At that, my father walked out of the hospital with his hand tightly closed around the arm of none other than Miss Maureen Boyle.
“No need to call a priest. I think our attacker was quite alive.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Miss Boyle?”
Today, the prim and proper Miss Boyle was out of her pencil skirt and had put on jeans and a gray T-shirt. She didn’t seem to be too happy with her police escort.
“Seems like it,” my father answered. “I found her trying to come down the stairs from the other side of the hospital.”
“Is it against the law to come down the stairs now?” she asked.
Maggie was incensed. “It’s one thing to insult me in front of the town, calling me a devil worshiper, but it is quite another when you throw a water heater at my niece.” She rose from my side, and I was pretty sure she was about to swing a boilermaker at my attacker. I grabbed her hand to pull her back, although secretly I would have liked to see her do it.
“You people do not need to be here – and you have no proof I was the one who threw that rusty piece of metal down the stairs.”
“Then let me ask you what you were doing upstairs in that heat?”
“It is absolutely none of your business what I was doing up there. You let your family run willy-nilly through the place. I don’t see you arresting them,” Miss Boyle said.
“Miss Boyle,” Judd said. “Show us your hands.”
Miss Boyle did not comply but simply stared at my father with a look of defiance. She was not budging as her eyes began to turn into slits staring at us through her glasses, now slightly askew. My father reached down and grabbed her hands and turned them palm up to all of us. From the dim light available, I could see something dark on both of them.
“Hmm, rust. Could it be from pushing a rusty piece of metal down the stairs?”
“I want to call my lawyer.”
“And so you shall.”
“I wish I had never met any of you people.” Her lip was firm.
“I think you’ve made yourself quite clear on that point,” I answered. “What is it that drives you so crazy about us being here? I just don’t get it. Do you put razor blades in apples to discourage trick-or-treaters, too?”
“No!” she screamed. “No! I am a good person. I’m a better person than you. You people don’t have any right to be tromping around here where my Oliver died.”
Suddenly it was quiet. What did she say? Was this the reason Oliver Canfield had her credit card in his office drawer? Could this be the reason she was snooping around the hospital the day we discovered the body? Did Miss Boyle have a boyfriend?
“My Oliver?” I asked.
“You heard me. Oliver was mine, and if he hadn’t been out here, he never would have died.”
“You and Oliver Canfield were … an item?” asked my dad.
“We were more than ‘an item.’ We were going to be married.” She lifted up her chin with pride, although it wobbled a bit.
“You and Oliver Canfield?” I was amazed. Who knew? It certainly explained a lot, including her mania for keeping us away from the old hospital. If they were choosing this place for a lovers’ rendezvous, they sure needed to come up with some better ideas. Why go to this rat hole? They both had homes in Pecan Bayou.
Miss Boyle pulled herself up straight. “Is that so alarming that you think I couldn’t attract a man like Oliver?”
We all looked at each other not saying a word. It certainly couldn’t be her attitude that attracted him, but it very well could be her credit score.
“He told me that he loved me and couldn’t wait to be my husband. We were supposed to get together at four in the afternoon that day, but he never showed up. I knew he had been talking about getting me and … some others … together to invest in the hospital, so I figured he was still out here dreaming of our future. He was like that, you know. I thought he was a wonderful man full of ambition. We were going to get married, and then I was going to have a better life than the likes of all of you.” She looked straight over at Maggie. “You and your interference.” Miss Boyle started screaming. “You killed him!” She lunged after Maggie as my father and Stan pulled her back. “You and your ghosts! You killed him!”
“Leave her alone, you mean lady,” Danny yelled. “You leave my mom alone. Go away.”
“I’m fine, Danny. It’
s okay,” Maggie reassured him.
“She was going to hurt you,” Danny now stood firmly in front of his mother with his hands on his hips.
“No she wasn’t. Danny, I’m okay.”
“Betsy,” my father interrupted. “Do you wish to file charges against Miss Boyle?”
Boy did I ever, but looking at this broken woman, I just knew it wouldn’t be right. Out of the two of us, her with her lonelyhearts con and me with my fretting over being left behind, I was better off. Shaken up a little bit, but at least I wasn’t out of my head. “No, I guess not.” For the first time in many years, I started feeling like maybe I wasn’t the worse sob story in the crowd.
“And then,” continued Miss Boyle, seemingly unaware of anyone else, “I discovered Oliver had taken some liberties with my charge card.”
“Excuse me?” my father said. Here came the information I truly wanted to hear.
“He ran it up to the limit. But he always said you have to spend money to make money, Bitsy.” She smiled. “That’s what he called me – Bitsy. Isn’t that sweet?”
I recalled that name from his calendar. Miss Boyle was Bitsy? Somehow I had imagined that person just a bit more … Bitsier.
“He ran through a credit card?” Fitzpatrick said. He was suddenly intensely interested in Miss Boyle’s lament. “And he was promising to marry you?”
“We were engaged. I was going to be a Christmas bride,” said Miss Boyle.
“It may interest you to know, Miss Boyle, and I’m not saying this to hurt you, Mr. Canfield also proposed to my sister,” said Leo Fitzpatrick, stepping forward. Miss Boyle stammered, but Fitzpatrick held up his hand. “And he also used her credit cards and charged them out to the max. I ran a background check on him and found out Oliver Canfield served time. He was in jail for three years for credit card fraud. After he got out, he found his way back to Pecan Bayou and set himself back up in business. He’s one of those lonelyhearts Romeos. He’s taken lots of women for their money, just like you.”
It was then that I saw it. Tyler, who had been standing there quietly, now had tears running down his chubby cheeks. Very quietly, he walked over to Miss Boyle and put his arms around her waist. It was absurd to look at, but then when he spoke it all made sense.
“He was a bad man, Miss Boyle. He hurt my mom, just like you.”
Miss Boyle looked down at the boy, and then surprising us all, she put her arms around Tyler to hug him.
Fitzpatrick walked over and tried to unclench Tyler from Miss Boyle. “That’s enough, son,” he said.
“But Uncle Leo, Mr. Canfield hurt this lady too. Maybe if somebody hugs her and tells her it’s all right, she won’t … she won’t …”
“Tyler!”
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” said my father. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
“Tell them, Uncle Leo. We don’t have to keep our secret anymore, do we?”
Fitzpatrick gave up trying to separate Tyler from Miss Boyle. Miss Boyle collapsed into Tyler’s chubby arms as she fell down on her knees. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m just so embarrassed. I thought he loved me. He just wanted my money.” Her emotions were spilling out all over Tyler, who was crying too.
“He made my mama cry too. She went to heaven she was so sad,” Tyler said.
“Tyler!”
“Uncle Leo,” he said, turning to Fitzpatrick. “This lady was just like mom. If we can’t find him, then we can at least help her.”
So that was it. Why Leo Fitzpatrick and “son” were actually in town. They came after Canfield, not some pie-in-the-sky investor. Fitzpatrick gave an exasperated sigh and settled down on the bumper next to me.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick, is your son saying you knew Canfield before the murder and that you came to town to seek him out?” asked my dad. Fitzpatrick just shot to number one on the investigation’s suspect list.
A cell phone emitted a muffled ring. Benny reached into his pocket and walked away from the Scouts, further into the woods. Fitzpatrick folded his arms, as we all waited for him to respond. He seemed to be making a decision. He turned to the collapsed form of Maureen Boyle. “Miss Boyle, I know you’re hurt, but … my sister … she was so devastated by what this man did … she took her life.” He then turned to my father. “And yes, Lieutenant Kelsey, I did come to Pecan Bayou to find Oliver Canfield.”
“I think you and I need to have another little talk about the murder of Oliver Canfield.”
“I wanted him arrested. I didn’t murder him. Whoever did us all that favor wasn’t me.”
“But you placed yourself at the murder scene. You told me that yourself,” I added.
“Yes, I did see Canfield right inside this building,” he gestured towards the hospital. “But he was alive. That son of a bitch laughed at me when I told him my sister committed suicide after being a victim of his scam. He laughed and told me that it wasn’t his fault my sister, Molly, was so unstable. He started saying stupid things like, ‘Ah well, unlucky in love.’ I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t. I actually left the hospital and was driving to the police station, getting ready to tell everything. It was then I realized I was late picking Tyler up from school. Tyler was my sister’s son. She adopted my nephew as a single parent, so when she died I was all the family he had. I was still getting the hang of this whole dad thing and hadn’t kept track of the time school ended. As I picked him up, I realized I would be hours at the station and needed to find a babysitter for him. Being so new to town, I had no idea who to call. Instead, I took Tyler out for a hamburger and decided I would go into the sheriff’s office the next day. By the time the next day rolled around, it was too late.”
“I want to see you in my office first thing in the morning,” my dad said. “But not tonight. We’re way too busy. Report to my office first thing tomorrow and we’ll sort this out.”
“But I didn’t kill him,” Fitzpatrick said.
“We will also open an investigation into the fraud perpetrated against your sister.” Tyler had let go of Miss Boyle and was now hugging his uncle.
My dad looked over at the crumpled heap of Miss Boyle. “Ma’am, I want you out of this area and away from my crime scene – right now.”
She rose and straightened her gray T-shirt, lifting her head in that now-familiar defiant manner. She cleared her throat as she tried to regain her composure. The weakness in her voice gave her away. “I trust this conversation will remain confidential?”
“Yes, ma’am,” my father replied.
“I’m real good at keeping secrets, just ask my Uncle Leo,” Tyler added.
She acknowledged him with a slight smile, whispering her response, “Thank you, Tyler. I appreciate that.”
Benny ran over to us from the woods. He was out of breath when he reached us. He waved his cell phone in the air as he approached. I could see one of his sons trailing him. “Fitzpatrick, you think you could take over at the campout tonight?”
“Uh, sure. Is something wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m just fine! Celia just called, and the baby’s coming! The labor pains are five minutes apart. I have to get to the house to drive her to the hospital. I think I’m going to have a baby on Halloween!” He gestured back to his campsite. “Benny Jr. will help you out. He’s been to a dozen of these things, and if you have any trouble, just call me on my cell.”
“I’ll be fine. You just go,” Fitzpatrick answered.
“Don’t worry, Benny,” my dad said, “The police will keep an eye on the boys, too.” At that, everyone circled around Benny, patting him on the back. He started backing up and waving. We all had a lot on our minds right now, but seeing Benny helped me to remember that my priorities would be with the living, the here and now, not the dead and gone.
As Benny pulled away, Leo Fitzpatrick ran his hand through his hair and put on his ball cap.
“Oh boy. I think this means I’m in charge.”
“Ah, nothin’ to it,” my dad said. “You got the tents up. You just have
to get the boys fed and make sure there’s enough marshmallows to go around and some sharp sticks to put them on.” He patted Leo Fitzpatrick on the back. “Piece-a cake, boy.” He put his hand under Miss Boyle’s arm to help her to her car. As they walked away, I could hear my dad talking gently to her as if she hadn’t just thwacked his daughter with a hot water heater.
Danny stepped up to Fitzpatrick. “You want me to help you? I’m real good at helping.” Maggie rested her hand on her son’s arm. “Danny, I think Mr. Fitzpatrick has enough to deal with.”
I wondered what Mr. Fitzpatrick thought about having a mentally disabled person wanting to spend time with him. After all these years growing up with Danny, I knew some people were just fine around him. They didn’t seem to care what his IQ score was, and they embraced him for what he was – another human being. Other people became distant from Danny, almost making him feel as if he had done something wrong. He didn’t understand that his differences made them uncomfortable. Barry had been in the second group from the very beginning, even to the point of changing places at a holiday table. He told me that he wanted Danny to be close to his mother so that she could “take care of him.” When it came to eating turkey dinners, Danny needed no assistance. It was a lame excuse, and I knew it, but the look on his face, the rigidness of his body, even his tone of voice was painful to watch. Everybody in his world had to be his own idea of what was normal. Even now I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and tell him his “normal” doesn’t exist. The world had two groups. Leo Fitzpatrick was about to prove which one he was in.
“I would love to have the help, Danny,” he said with a smile. Danny jumped up and clapped, and the two men headed off towards the woods followed by Tyler and Zach, newfound friends.
