by J A Whiting
Jill ran along a wooded trail. Shelly could hear the woman’s breath as she took in air and blew it out. Footsteps could be heard that didn’t belong to Jill … they got closer. Jill moved slightly to the left to allow more space for the runner behind her to pass and when the person drew near, Shelly sensed a blow to the back of the woman’s head. She heard a groan as Jill crumpled to the ground.
Shelly’s vision faded to black.
Feeling a damp, rough tongue on her cheek, Shelly’s eyes fluttered open to see Justice’s face only an inch from her own. The pink tongue licked the tip of Shelly’s nose causing the young woman to smile. She wrapped the calico in her arms and brushed her cheek over the cat’s velvety fur. “I miss Lauren,” she whispered to the sweet cat. “I miss my sister.”
Justice responded by rubbing her head against Shelly’s hand, but then her ears twitched and her head lifted directing her blue eyes to the door. A low guttural sound vibrated in the cat’s throat causing a burst of anxiety to flash in Shelly’s chest.
Does Justice hear someone? Has Scott Bilow come back?
The feline jumped to the floor and stared at the door while Shelly pushed herself out of the easy chair and stood perfectly still, listening for any sound. The lamp by the chair was on and she wanted to flick it off, but didn’t want to alert anyone that she was moving around inside.
The doorbell sounded causing Shelly to startle. She didn’t want to answer and her mind raced with thoughts of what to do. If she didn’t answer the door, would the person think she wasn’t home and break in? She grabbed her phone from the side table in case she had to place an emergency call. The doorbell sounded again.
Moving her feet over the hardwood floor, Shelly tiptoed to the door and placed her ear against it. When a hard knock on the wood made her jerk her head up and away, she wished there was a peephole in the door.
“Shelly?” A woman’s voice spoke.
Not recognizing the voice, Shelly exchanged a look with the cat and then raised her voice to ask, “Who is it?”
“It’s me. Can I come in?”
With shaking hands, Shelly opened the door a crack. Her eyes widened when she saw who was standing under the porch light.
12
The glow of the golden porch light glimmered on the woman’s ebony hair.
“Maria?” Shelly’s surprise was evident in her tone.
“Can I come in?” Maria’s shoulders drooped and there was a heaviness in her voice when she said, “I didn’t think I’d be back in Paxton Park again, but here I am.”
Shelly gestured to the sofa and then went to the kitchen to get some slices of cake and a pitcher of iced tea. “I was surprised you left town so quickly.”
“I was overwhelmed.” Maria accepted a glass of tea. “All I wanted to do was get out of here. I’d packed most of Meg’s stuff into a rental van. I was going to ask the owner of the house to send me the rest of the things. There wasn’t much left in the house anyway, some files, a few books. I’d had enough ... Meg’s death, the person trying to break in, that note. I didn’t want to spend another minute in that house. I had to get away.”
“The police tried to contact you,” Shelly said. “A detective came and spoke to me. I was worried something had happened to you.”
An expression of remorse passed over Maria’s face. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I went to a friend’s place and stayed a few nights. My phone stopped working and when I bought another one, I was horrified to see all the missed calls from law enforcement come up. It was irresponsible of me to rush away without informing them, but it never entered my head that the police might think something happened to me.” Maria clasped her hands together and her face became serious. “They asked me to come back to town to talk to them about the fire.”
Shelly handed Maria a plate with a slice of cake. “It was a shock to wake up to the house fire. I couldn’t believe it. At first, I worried that you might have been inside. It was a relief when the police said the house was empty.”
Maria made eye contact with Shelly and said softly, “I know they suspect me.”
“The police will talk to you and eliminate you as a suspect,” Shelly encouraged. “It’s just standard operating procedure. You don’t have to worry. Something you might tell them could lead to the person who set it.”
“I talked to the police already, late this afternoon.” Maria let out a sigh. “I told them I left the house, took a cab back to the hotel, checked out and drove away. I don’t smoke, I didn’t light any fires in the house, I didn’t leave the stove on. They kept asking the same questions over and over.”
“How did the meeting end?”
“It didn’t end with only the talk about the fire.” Maria rubbed her forehead. “After they questioned me about the blaze, they asked me about the note. I told them the same things that I told them before. I found it in Meg’s file. They didn’t seem to believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“The police checked the paper for fingerprints.” Maria lifted her eyes to Shelly. “Guess what? Mine are the only prints on the note, well, and yours since I handed you the note to look at.”
Shelly’s mind raced. “Well, if ours are the only prints on the note then whoever wrote it must have worn gloves.”
Maria looked pained. “But Meg’s prints weren’t on the note either.”
At first Shelly didn’t grasp the importance of that fact, but then it dawned on her. “How could that be? If Meg found the note or received it somehow, she would have touched it, she would have held it. Her prints would be on it.”
“Exactly.” Maria leaned back. “Guess what else? I’m not supposed to leave town without telling the police.”
Shelly groaned, but nagging questions about Maria’s guilt or innocence began to grow and a sense of unease zipped through her nerves. “What are your thoughts about the note? You must have been thinking about it since you left the police station.”
“I don’t know what to think. Could Meg have spotted the note and picked it up with a tissue so as not to disturb any fingerprints that were on it? Maybe that’s why hers don’t show up on the paper?”
“That could be.” Shelly wondered if it was likely though. She glanced over to see Justice sitting straight in the opposite chair taking in every word Maria was saying.
“The police kept asking me about the house,” Maria said. “They asked if I was sure I’d heard someone at the back door. I told them that their officers saw the scratch marks indicating a potential robber. You know what they said? They asked if I might have caused those marks when I had trouble unlocking the door.” The dark-haired woman’s lips tightened into a line, and then she added, “I know what they’re implying. They’re suggesting that I intentionally made those marks around the door lock to make it seem like someone tried to break in.”
“To deflect suspicion away from you and onto someone else?”
“Yes.” Maria looked absent-mindedly around the room. “What a mess. My sister killed and now the police are looking at me as an arsonist. Why would I set the fire?” Her voice hardened. “Why would I do such a thing?”
Shelly thought the police might also be considering Maria as a suspect in her sister’s murder, but she didn’t voice that possibility to the woman. “It might be a good idea to talk to a lawyer.”
Maria leaned forward with her head in her hands. “I don’t know. Will that make me look guilty? Like I’m trying to defend myself because I’m guilty of setting the fire?”
“It’s your right to have counsel,” Shelly said. “It’s not an indication of guilt.”
“Huh. I bet that’s not how the police will see it.” Dark circles showed under the woman’s eyes.
“You should talk to a lawyer anyway. I think it would be helpful.” Shelly asked, “Did you know that Meg had trouble with a guy when she was working as a real estate agent back in Eastborough?”
Maria looked surprised. “She mentioned it to me.”
�
��Did she tell you the man’s name?”
“Um, I don’t know. If she did, I don’t recall it.”
“Was she afraid of him or did she brush it off as a man just showing interest in her?”
“Meg was shook up about it initially, but she seemed to brush it off pretty quickly. She really only brought it up once over the phone. Next time we talked, I asked her about it and she said it was over and changed the subject. I didn’t think about it again.” Maria narrowed her eyes. “Why do you ask?”
Shelly shrugged. “Somebody mentioned it. I wondered about it.”
“Meg was resilient. Nothing much bothered her.”
“I know I asked before, but did you have a chance to think if Meg might have known Jill Murray?”
Maria’s eyes widened. “I don’t recall her ever mentioning the woman. How would Meg know the other victim?”
“Jill was from Ashbury,” Shelly said. “That’s only five miles from Eastborough.”
“Both women were from central Massachusetts,” Maria mused. “It must be a strange coincidence.” Her face seemed to relax. “You know, I’ve been thinking about Meg and how much she loved the outdoors. She and my parents used to come here to ski some winters. Meg was the opposite of me. I hate bugs and the summer heat and the winter cold. No way I’d spend any time on a ski slope. I’d rather read a book or go to the theatre or a museum. Funny, isn’t it? How different siblings can be.”
Shelly’s thoughts turned to her own sister. Lauren had no patience for cooking or baking. She loved numbers and the beauty of math and would throw herself into solving long equations and problem sets. Shelly could add, subtract, multiply, and divide and she had a head for business, yet math was not her thing … but how she enjoyed sitting quietly, watching her sister work at a board or on a long pad of paper … it was almost as if she could see the numbers and solutions floating in and out of her sister’s head. “Yeah,” Shelly said, a slight smile forming over her mouth from thinking of Lauren. “Siblings can be very different.”
“Thanks for listening to me rant.” Maria drained the tea from her glass. “You’ve been nice to me and I appreciate it. I needed to talk and even though a number of people from town have been kind to me, you were the first person I thought of.” She smiled. “Lucky you.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Shelly offered more refreshments.
“Thanks, but I’m meeting someone shortly for a late dinner. Another person who has been helpful to me.” Maria stood up. “Can I use your bathroom?”
Shelly pointed the way down the hall and then started to gather up the dessert plates from the coffee table. When she bent down to pick up a napkin that had fallen to the floor, Maria’s phone, resting on the table, pinged with an incoming text and it caught Shelly’s eye. She almost dropped the plates when she saw the name of the caller.
Scott.
Was it Scott Bilow? How would Maria know him? A flood of worry and unease raced through Shelly’s veins and her heart rate sped up.
Justice let out a growl.
Maria walked down the hallway to return to the living room. She picked up her phone, glanced at the screen, and shoved it into her bag. “Thanks again.”
“Have a nice dinner.” Shelly walked Maria to the door and, trying to sound nonchalant, asked, “Who are you meeting?”
“Just an acquaintance.” Maria stepped outside, walked down to the sidewalk, turned and waved goodnight.
Once the front door was shut, Shelly leaned back against it and let out a sigh. The conversation she’d had with Maria swirled in her head. The note with only Maria’s fingerprints on it, the attempted break-in at Meg’s rental house when Maria was there, Maria’s hurried departure from Paxton Park right before the fire, the fire.
Justice padded over and sat down in front of Shelly.
“What’s going on? What’s the answer to all of this?” Shelly asked. “What do you think, Justice?”
Justice let out a howl and Shelly’s heart sank.
13
Shelly let out a curse when two eggs slipped from her hand and broke over the floor of the diner’s kitchen.
Henry came over to clean them up and gave her the eye. “You feeling okay today?”
Shelly had already burned a sheet of cookies and had to throw them out.
“I’m okay. Just feeling distracted, I guess.” She went to the sink for a glass of water and after taking some gulps, she told Henry about her late afternoon visitor. “So, this guy, Scott Bilow, was sitting on my porch waiting for me to get home. I was so angry by his behavior that I was honestly seeing red.”
Henry’s eyes darkened as his face flushed with anger. “That one.” He shook his head in disgust. “Try to steer as far away from that guy as possible. He’s nothing but trouble.”
“That’s what I hear.” Shelly let out a sigh. “His ego is enormous. He’s completely insufferable.”
Henry said, “I don’t like to gossip, but I got this information from a very good source. Scott Bilow has a gambling problem. He’s in heavy financial difficulty from his gambling losses. The guy spends money like a drunken sailor, always running up his credit cards. His father bails him out every time. The old man even bought him a small house at the edge of town. Scott can’t hold onto a job. He’s a smart guy, but no work ethic.”
Melody came in and heard what her husband was saying. “Why have a work ethic when you know your father will step in every time you’re in trouble? Scott, Sr. is a good man, but he hasn’t done anything for his son by being so permissive. Scott’s mother died when he was a young boy and the dad raised him. Scott was wild and gave his father a hard time, that’s what I heard from friends. Anyway, he’s never been held to any standards and this is the result, a sullen playboy who spends his father’s money like water, expects to be bailed out whenever he gets into trouble, is dismissive and rude to the people around him. It’s a shame.”
“That sounds like him.” Shelly crossed her arms over her chest.
“He’s been in trouble with the law, too.” Melody gave a sigh. “He’s broken into houses and stolen some items, has gotten into fights, stole a car once, had some drug issues.”
“Why isn’t he in jail?” Shelly huffed.
“He has done a little time, but he always gets out on good behavior or gets reduced sentences.” Henry placed a cheese sandwich on the grill. “Too bad he can’t display good behavior when he’s in the general population.”
“Scott dated our oldest daughter.” Melody made a face.
“Really?” Shelly asked.
“In high school.” Henry flipped the sandwich over with more energy than necessary.
“I can hear in your voices that something happened,” Shelly said cautiously.
“We were wary even back then,” Melody said. “Scott and Julia went to a carnival. They had a good time. He behaved himself. He asked her to his junior prom. Julia was a year younger. She pleaded with us to let her go and eventually wore us down. We laid the ground rules. She agreed to them.”
Henry removed french fries from the cooking basket. “So the idiot got drunk. Wrapped his car around a tree. Julia walked away with a broken arm, thank heavens that was all.”
“We found out weeks later that Scott had hit Julia at the prom. He wanted to go joy riding and she didn’t want to go along. He was rough with her, gave her a smack in the mouth. She didn’t tell us until a few weeks had gone by. We thought her fat lip and cuts were the result of the accident.”
Melody shivered at the memory. She kept her voice soft when she said, “After we found out that Scott had hit Julia, Henry went out and found him one night. Henry gave him what-for.”
Shelly looked confused.
“I beat the punk up.” Henry didn’t look up from the grill. “I’m not proud of it, but if it happened again, I’d do the same thing.”
Shelly couldn’t help the smile from forming over her lips. “Did you get into trouble? Did he report you?”
“He did not,” M
elody said with some pride. “No one ever approached Henry about it so Scott must have kept it to himself.” Narrowing her eyes and giving a little shrug, she added, “The only regret I have over the incident is that Henry didn’t take me with him that night.”
Shelly chuckled. “That probably would have been a surprise … to be beaten up by your former date’s father and mother. How did Scott interact with you when he ran into you around town?”
“He pretends not to know us.” Melody grinned. “Even to this day.”
“I guess he’s never been a regular customer here then,” Shelly kidded.
Henry snorted.
Shelly said, “If he ever bothers me again, now I know who to call.”
Henry looked over to Shelly with a serious expression. “You got that right. Any time at all. You need help, you pick up the phone.”
Henry’s words made Shelly feel safe and protected. “Thanks,” she smiled.
“So how was the rest of your evening after you got rid of Scott?” Henry placed two burgers on the grill.
“Actually, it was a little odd.”
Henry and Melody turned to look at Shelly.
“I got another visitor later. Maria Stores.” Shelly told them what Maria shared with her. “I want to believe what she says. I feel bad for her and for what’s happened, but there’s something that makes me unsure about her. I don’t know how to describe it.”
“I know what you mean,” Melody agreed. “I found her to be gruff and abrupt. I wanted to be kind, but she gives the impression that she doesn’t need anyone.”
Shelly explained her worries that Maria and Scott Bilow were somehow involved with each other. “I don’t mean romantically, although I wouldn’t put it past Scott to have made a move on the woman. I feel distrustful of them and thinking about them together makes me nervous that they’re up to no good.”
