“Hello, this door is unlocked.”
“Don’t go in,” Gypsy cautioned.
“Don’t go in? We’ve come all this way, and you say, ‘Don’t go in’?”
“It’s called breaking and entering, Milicent.”
“What’s to break? The door is open. I’ll just stick my head in. I’m sure that’s not a full enter.”
The cabin was as dark as the inside of a tomb. It smelled musty with disuse and was colder inside than out. I called again, “Yoo-hoo, Miss Vinnie Ledbetter. Are you here?”
When I heard a slight bumping noise inside the cabin, I turned to Gypsy and said, “I’m going in. You just stay out here. That way only one of us will be guilty if we get caught. I think Tate Wade would call this ‘probable cause for search.’”
“That’s policeman talk, Milicent. It doesn’t work for civilians. Let me go in first.”
“Oh, because you’re more macho than me?” I asked.
“No, because I’m a policeman.” Gypsy shouted, “Police. Come out with your hands up.” No response except the muffled shuffling we’d heard before. Gypsy charged through the back door. She had a real gun and everything.
“I didn’t know that,” I said as I followed behind her, and all the bright colors surrounding Gypsy dissolved like a wave of blue ocean calming a lava flow. Looked like I would be around to take my final bows.
We found Miss Vinnie Ledbetter bound to a wooden kitchen chair with duct tape and a dishtowel wrapped around her mouth. A worn Indian blanket had been tossed around her shoulders, but she had obviously dislodged it as she struggled to free herself.
I untied the dishtowel, and Gypsy searched the house. Miss Vinnie Ledbetter was only semiconscious, and I rubbed her cold hands. “Miss Vinnie Ledbetter? Speak to me. It’s your friend, Milicent Le Sueur.”
Miss Vinnie Ledbetter stirred slightly in the chair. She tried to speak, but her voice sounded rusty. I got her some water from the kitchen sink. She had trouble drinking it, but managed to swallow a few drops. “Milicent,” she croaked. “Thank God. Did you get him? Titus. Did you get him?”
“Not yet, but we will, Miss Vinnie Ledbetter. We’re official police, it seems. Mr. Titus Moore, huh? Well, I knew it was him all along. Gypsy, what do we do now?”
“Find something to get this tape off.”
“Will this do?” I held up the purple knitting needles I found on the kitchen cabinet.
“For God’s sake, don’t touch those, Milicent. There may be fingerprints.”
“I think the only prints are going to be mine, Gypsy. They’re wrapped in Saran Wrap.”
But Gypsy didn’t hear me. She was on the phone to Wade Tate, using a phone just like the Police Chief and I did. “An ambulance is on the way,” she announced as she snapped the phone shut. “And so is Wade Tate.”
THIRTY-SIX
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
It was a joy and a pleasure to have a nice long leisurely count while rocking in Wade Tate’s office chair. So much so that I did it again for good measure.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
“Go ahead, Millie, rub it in,” said Tate Wade as he came into the office.
“I have not said, ‘I told you so, Tate Wade,’ more than about fifty times, Tate Wade.”
“Well, you are entitled to fifty more, Millie. I knew something was wrong with Titus. I talked to that woman, Sandi Swanson, over in Upston. I knew there was a strong possibility he had killed Angela Woodburn and Mary Moore. And yet I still didn’t confront him. I was being too careful. Too much by the book and not enough by the seat of my pants.”
I added, “And don’t forget, you put the tail on the wrong person.”
“Now Stuart wasn’t exactly tailing you, Millie,” Wade Tate said as he plopped down a cup of coffee in front of me. “No, don’t get up. You can be honorary chief of police for the day. Stuart was just watching out for you.”
“Stuart was making sure I wasn’t the killer,” I told Wade Tate. “Stuart was having fun dressing up as a woman, and Stuart was really getting into his part.”
Wade Tate glanced over to the corner of the office where my Gypsy stood in the corner, still in her/his red coat, but minus the long blond wig. Without the hair, Gypsy looked like a little boy playing dress up, an image enhanced by the trace of chocolate around his mouth as he stuffed down Andy’s donuts.
He looked up as he realized we were talking about him, and with a mouthful of the glazed donut, he said, “Hey, I was getting in touch with my feminine side.”
The phone on the desk rang, and Betty the woman elf answered it. She gave the phone to Wade Tate who ran his free hand through his hair as he talked. When he hung up, he said, “I’m calling off the roadblocks. Looks like Titus got clean away from Portsmith. His Suburban was spotted near the state line. By the time the highway patrol made the connection with the APB and the car, it was long gone. They think they know the direction he was going, so hopefully someone else will pick him up soon.”
“I love police work,” I said to the room. “I think I will become a police bag lady.”
“Lord save us,” said Andy as he came into the office with a message for the chief.
“Amen,” I echoed.
“Millie, this message is from Seedy Apple. Says Miss Vinnie is doing well at the hospital. Maybe a little pneumonia, but otherwise okay. She wants to see you. I’ll take you over. I need to question her some more now that she’s feeling better.”
“That’s what I had; makes you feel awful.” I hopped up from his chair. “I’m ready. And, Tate Wade, will it be possible for me to see Harriet today? I know she misses me.”
“The baby is in good hands, Millie. We were lucky on that one. The judge assigned her to Claire right here in the office. Claire fosters a lot of kids who come through here. She has five of her own, you know.”
“Yes, I know that, and I’m glad Harriet is with Claire, but she belongs with me.”
“Now, Millie, first you have to tell us where you found Harriet. You may be facing kidnapping charges, you know.”
“I didn’t kidnap her, Wade Tate,” I protested.
“Then where did you get her, for god’s sake?”
“I had her?”
“Ha, not likely. I checked with Seedy, and he said you were not pregnant when you were in the hospital two months ago. Now tell me where you have been all that time and where you got that baby.”
“Okay, okay. I found her in a Dumpster.”
“Good Lord. Where?”
I sat back down in his chair and rocked ten times before answering. “Tell me this, Wade Tate. If I say I found the baby in Kalamazoo, would I have to go to Kalamazoo to get her for keeps?”
“Well, yes, you would. The county where you found her would have jurisdiction on her disposition.”
“Her disposition is fine. She’s a sweet-tempered baby.”
“Millie! Pay attention here. Where did you find Harriet?”
“In the Dumpster, like I said. Don’t yell at me, Tate Wade. I was looking for something to eat, and I heard this sound. You know I don’t ordinarily go through Dumpsters, but I was in…a big city…and I was hungry. It was before I got a handle on the city. Well, I thought the sound was a cat or a parrot so I didn’t pay much mind, but when it kept on, I looked some more and found my baby wrapped up in the Sunday funnies. Speaking of parrots, I think they make nice pets, don’t you? I’m going to get one for Harriet first chance I get.”
“I don’t often think about parrots, Millie. Tell me where this Dumpster was located. I’m being patient here.”
“You could have fooled me. Okay, okay, the Dumpster was right here in Portsmith?”
“Hey folks, excuse me, but can’t we work this out later? Miss Vinnie is waiting at the hospital, and I, for
one, would like to ask her some questions,” Gypsy interrupted us. “And in case anyone forgets, we still have a killer on the loose.”
We started filing out the door, and Wade Tate said, “I don’t think we have to worry about Titus Moore around here anymore. He’s long gone.”
Long gone. Long gone. Long gone.
I liked the way the words sounded so I said them in my head all the way to the car.
THIRTY-SEVEN
This is what’s wrong with promises.
You make them to please people, but they’re not your choice. The thing you don’t want to do is what you got to promise to do. People make you promise to lose weight, quit smoking, and to stay in houses. If someone really loved you, why wouldn’t they let you sleep out by your tree?
Staying at Miss Vinnie Ledbetter’s was okay when Miss Vinnie Ledbetter was there to make it smooth. When she was in the hospital, it was different. Wade Tate said there was no more threat from Mr. Titus Moore because he was long gone, and that I didn’t need police protection anymore, so he wouldn’t be staying the night. But he made me promise I would stay in Miss Vinnie Ledbetter’s house and not cause trouble anywhere in town.
Just when I think I love him the most, I realize he doesn’t get it about houses and me. Why do I think this is a relationship that is going nowhere?
I pretended I was on a vacation and staying at the Miss Vinnie Ledbetter Bed-and-Breakfast. I fixed toast and tea, and I ate it in the big brown La-Z-Boy while I watched TV. I washed the dishes and went back to the TV to watch a late showing of Burden of Proof. I yelled at the TV and told Greta I had been trying to call her.
I made sure that all the rooms had four walls.
I stood at the door and smelled the snow that had started to fall when we were at the hospital.
I took a real bath with lots of Lever 2000 bubbles and thought about how tickled Miss Vinnie Ledbetter was at the idea of having her very own baby. Dr. Seedy Apple assured us all that Miss Vinnie Ledbetter would be coming home tomorrow, but he was keeping her overnight for good measure.
When I remembered what Miss Vinnie Ledbetter had said about Mr. Titus Moore, I got out of the bathtub and shut all the doors and windows. I wasn’t sure what long gone really meant and shuddered in the chill when I thought about how Miss Vinnie Ledbetter said Mr. Titus Moore had ranted and raved when he forced her to come with him on Christmas Day. She said he was really babbling frothy stuff that didn’t make sense, but most of it was about me.
About how he hated hated hated me, and I was the only reason anyone thought that he was a killer. Then he launched into a tirade against Angel and Mrs. Mary Moore. That if Angel hadn’t gotten pregnant and threatened to tell, and if Mrs. Mary Moore hadn’t figured it out and threatened to tell, everything would have worked out okay.
Miss Vinnie Ledbetter tried to calm him, telling him she needed to go back to the house and take her pumpkin pie and her apple pie out of the oven and turn off the potatoes. But he just laughed and said he would be going right back there himself to make sure when I arrived, and then he would be right back to see her.
Wade Tate said he thought that when Mr. Titus Moore had returned to Miss Vinnie’s house, he’d seen Wade Tate’s car and knew that would blow his plan. But he had still taken the knitting needles from Harriet’s diaper bag. But his plan was blown. He’d told that to Miss Vinnie Ledbetter when he came back to the cabin with the knitting needles, he had thrown them on the kitchen cabinet and said that plan wouldn’t fly now. How could he pin a Miss Vinnie Ledbetter murder on me if I was sitting there with the chief of police of Portsmith? Tate Wade said he bet that was when Mr. Titus Moore decided it was all over and became long gone.
Miss Vinnie Ledbetter was one lucky woman. Mr. Titus Moore had been so busy throwing stuff in a bag that he had forgotten to kill her on his way out.
None of their conversation settled me for staying at Miss Vinnie Ledbetter’s by myself. But I promised, so I made do.
About three in the morning, I cleaned the bathrooms.
At four, I cleaned them again.
I felt a toe nudging me, and a voice asked, “Milicent? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks, Gypsy. How are you?”
“I’m good, but I’m not the one who is lying with her body outside the front door. I gather, then, that this is by choice?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know it’s snowing? That you are covered with snow?”
I stretched and rolled over. “That is why I am in this sleeping bag, Gypsy. I am just warm and toasty.”
Gypsy knelt down beside me. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
I wiggled out of the sleeping bag and stood up. “It was awful, Gypsy. I couldn’t stand being in the house without Miss Vinnie Ledbetter.”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
“Are you kidding? I promised Wade Tate I would stay in the house last night.”
“Sleeping on the front porch is not exactly what he had in mind, Milicent.”
“Well, I kept my head inside the door.”
“I’m sure Wade would be proud of you,” said Gypsy. “I bet it’s cold in the house. I’ll put a log on the fire if you like.”
“Thanks. Want some coffee?”
Gypsy followed me into the house where, after I took off my coat and mittens, I made some coffee in Miss Vinnie Ledbetter’s coffeepot.
As we sat down at the kitchen table to drink it, I asked, “Gypsy, why are you wearing a dress? Are you still on duty?”
She stood up and did a full circle to show off the dress. A gold wool number with a slightly retro look. “You like it? I got it on sale at Columbus. Is it me or what? And I’m not on duty now; I am on my own time. Thought I would see how you were doing.”
“Oh, yes. Definitely you. Do you want a piece of apple pie? Or some cornbread dressing? Gypsy, does Tate Wade know you wear women’s clothes when you’re not working?”
“Dressing with cranberry sauce, please. Wade and I don’t talk about it, Milicent. He knows I’m the best undercover investigator he has, so he doesn’t ask many questions.”
I heated up some dressing for Gypsy in the microwave. I like mine cold. “Merry late Christmas,” I told her as I served the dish. “If you’re so good, how come you didn’t find me in Upston?”
“Oh, I did. I caught your last performance at the theater. Milicent, you were magnificent.”
I blushed at the compliment. “Well, I’m sure the part was written with me in mind. I would like to try something else. Maybe the heiress. That would be a stretch.” Then I had a thought. “So you and Tate Wade knew where I was all the time?”
“Not all the time, but it didn’t take long to find you,” he admitted.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you help me escape from the hospital? You knew Wade Tate was going to take me to jail the next day, but you went through a big rigmarole to help me get away.” I stopped eating to wait for his answer.
“Well, you were supposed to get away, but not away. I mean not from me. I blew it. When I caught up to you at the junkyard, you were already in hiding. You do have unusual ways of avoiding people when you don’t want to be found, you know?” He laughed as he remembered what I had told him about the horse trailer/bus service.
“But why? Why not just take me on in to jail? What was Tate Wade thinking? I’m assuming he was in on it.”
“From the first,” Gypsy admitted. “He had me watching you from the beginning. Remember when I first showed up at your tree? Wade told me that in his heart, he knew you hadn’t killed anyone—in fact, couldn’t kill anyone. But what with Titus leading a pack against you, he was fearful that if you didn’t get killed yourself, you were going to be set up to be the killer. My job was to keep an eye on you for your own protection.”
�
�Yeah?” I liked the in his heart part.
“And Titus did have you set up pretty good, you have to admit. He was spreading the word that you had killed Angela for unknown reasons. General craziness, I think he said. And that you had drug her body into the street where somebody innocently ran over it—to make it look like a hit-and-run.” Gypsy settled back in his chair with a new cup of coffee while he told me his story.
Settled in with a fresh cup of my own, I asked, “But what about Mrs. Mary Moore?”
“We think he intended to kill her after she figured out what really happened to Angela. And, since he already had you set up for one murder—”
“He came looking for something in my bags to kill his wife,” I finished for him.
“That’s about the size of it, yes. I guess he thought if they arrested you, the search for the killer would stop there. Your help with the Moores’ old neighbors helped cinch the case against Titus, but you were only one step ahead of our investigation. I was interviewing old friends of his when I was in Upston myself. You just beat us to Mrs. Swanson.”
“Gypsy, if you were in Upston and knew I was in Upston, then why did you keep asking where I had been?”
“We don’t tell everything we know, Milicent. And…we wanted you to tell us. I didn’t want to blow my cover either.” Gypsy waved her fork at me and changed the subject. “What if someday Wade Tate finds your real family and you really are an heiress?”
“Then I would have to find another part for the theatre. I do want to explore my acting abilities.”
Gypsy considered this for a minute and then said, “Exactly what do you plan to do now, Milicent? Hopefully someone will catch Titus Moore soon, but if they don’t, you’ll have to be careful. Somehow I think he’s big into revenge. If it hadn’t been for you going to see that old neighbor in Upston, his plan of accusing you would have worked. You have no idea how much pressure was brought to bear on Wade to lock you up. It was the information the neighbor gave Wade that kept him from responding to the pressure to put out an APB on you.”
Milicent Le Sueur Page 14
