by M A Comley
“Where in the Midwest? Did he say?”
“No. He wasn’t specific. Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.” Lucy’s head began pounding harder. She was seeing shadows where none existed. “I’ll see you when you get here, but the door will be locked.”
“Anything wrong?”
“No, why?” She considered telling him what she’d seen, but held back, not wanting to raise suspicion when everything might have been just a coincidence.
“You sound, I don’t know… jumpy?”
“Do I? Probably the change in the weather. Spring is just around the corner. I can’t wait.” Her voice dropped as she thought of the big footprints in the snowbank. “Don’t be long, Brendon.”
“Sure thing. See you shortly.”
Lucy whipped out her cookbook and concentrated on making up the mixture for brownies. She buttered the nine by twelve baking pan and poured in the batter. She doubled up on the recipe so she’d make enough extra to take some next door for Marnie—a sort of celebratory treat.
The oven beeped to signal it had reached the pre-heated temperature. Lucy pushed in the pan, closed the oven, and then picked up the spatula to lick the remains. Her thoughts were taking on a life of their own when it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t looked in the backyard for some time. Snow had made it unusable, but now she was almost afraid to open a rear window and have a look.
She went into her bedroom, rotated the lock on the window and slowly pushed it upward. She leaned out the opening and noticed the icy drops of snow melting from the gutters had made a dotted line pattern along the length of her home. Lucy scanned every inch of her small yard. To her relief, nothing seemed to have been disturbed, at least not until she looked toward Marnie’s yard. It was quite a different story—it appeared to have been thoroughly trampled by the investigating officers. Lucy closed the window again, locked it, and double checked the lock before drawing closed the ruffled curtains, ensuring no one could possibly peer in.
The aroma of the baking brownies was beginning to filter through the house. Lucy searched beneath the sink for a cloth and furniture spray and decided to clean the office and living room area. Then she dragged the vacuum from the closet and began sweeping the carpets. She shoved the edge of the heavy sofa with her hip, but when it refused to budge, she shut off the vacuum to use both of her hands for leverage.
Discovering what the problem was, Lucy stiffened. Dragging the sofa away from the wall revealed what appeared to be a pillow just lying there, a strange pillow at that. Stunned and scared, she backed out the room only to be startled again by the piercing sound of the alarm going off on the oven.
Her nerves completely shattered, Lucy snatched her coat and purse from the foyer, returned to the kitchen to pull the pan of brownies from the oven. Switching off the oven and leaving the brownies on the side, she flew out the front door and jumped into her car. Her hair still damp and her hands shaking, Lucy fumbled with the keys; finally, she located the right one and inserted it into the ignition. Thankfully, the car started on the first try. She drove to Brendon’s.
He found her half an hour later, in a huddle, trembling with tear-stained cheeks.
Lucy jumped out of her skin when he tapped on the window. “Lucy, are you alright?”
She opened the door and as he leaned in to kiss her cheek, Lucy surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
“What’s going on?” he sounded alarmed by her sudden bout of affection.
“I’ve been waiting for you. Please, get in, I need to speak to you.”
He leaned forward and produced a boxed pizza from behind his back. “It’ll get cold. I’ve got a better plan, come in the house, and you can talk while we eat?”
The thought that she may have overreacted entered her mind, leaving her feeling crushed. But her tummy rumbled once she smelled the pizza. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter where they chose to talk, so she opted to get out the car and accompany him into the house.
Lucy eyed the living room nervously as she set plates on the kitchen table. Brendon looked tired, and she assumed he’d probably rather eat in front of the TV, but she couldn’t make herself go in there. “Can we just sit here, in the kitchen?”
“Sure, sure. Now, spill, what’s going on?”
“I’m honestly not sure where to start.”
“At the beginning generally works well.” He grinned and pointed at the chair, silently ordering her to sit.
Lucy drew in a deep breath, her eyes puffy and sore from crying. She knew she must look hideous, but there was nothing she could do to change that now. “I went to Sal’s today. No, wait, that wasn’t the first thing that happened. Let me back up.” She ran an anxious hand around her flushed face.
“Calm down now, Lucy. I’m here and you’re safe. Let’s just relax, have something to eat, and we’ll get it sorted.”
She gave a quick nod. “Okay… earlier, when I came back from Sal’s I saw that Winnie had managed to convince Marnie to come out onto the porch. Marnie looked so different, and I was so proud of her achievement. Hang on, I’m getting things out of order. While I was at Sal’s the gang were all there, and Sal came to have a cup of coffee with us at the table. The ladies were all bugging me, trying to obtain information from me, you know, about the murder.”
He nodded, thoughtfully. “The one across the street, I suppose?”
Lucy sighed. “I told them you don’t discuss cases with me.”
“Which I don’t. Only in the most superficial sense.”
“Yes, that’s right. Anyway, Sal sort of leaned over to me and asked how I was doing. I must have looked puzzled. Remember, you told me not to say anything about the two by four?”
“Sure.” Brendon broke off another piece of pizza, shook some parmesan on it and motioned for her to go on. Despite her rumbling tummy, she had very little appetite. Each small bite she took made her nauseous.
“I didn’t respond because I didn’t really know how to. Anyway, she went on and asked, ‘The two by four that blocked the attic door, how did it get there?’ I was flabbergasted. I mean it made perfect sense that you said someone who knew and shouldn’t, would slip up and reveal themselves, but never in a million years did I suspect it could be Sal.”
“Did you ask her how she’d heard?”
“I was about to, but she left the table; the business got in the way when her oven timer went off. I didn’t get a chance and then thought I’d be better off not making a big deal about it, so I just left. Then I thought I’d take a little walk, and when I passed the alley behind Sal’s, I spotted something odd. Brendon, it was a stack of two by fours!”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Hmm… interesting.”
“And there was one missing!”
“How do you know?”
“They were stacked in pairs, but one from the top was missing.”
“Maybe they bought an uneven number.”
“I doubt it. First, how many projects do you know that call for an uneven amount of lumber? Things are made in squares and if not, people consciously buy an extra in case of error. It’s just how humans are—we like symmetry and even numbers.”
“I don’t know about that…” he began, doubting her logic.
“But I do. I’ve read a lot about psychology and this sort of thing. It’s what writers do. We study people so we can make them stand out to our readers.”
He shook his head as if confused. “Okay, so they happened to have some lumber. Why does that upset you so much?”
“It wasn’t just that, although, despite what you think, it’s bad enough to me. When I came home—I don’t mind admitting I was more than a little shaken; in fact, it may be more than that, I might’ve found evidence. But I need to show you, back at the house.”
“Of what? Can’t it wait? It’s been a long day and I’ve been looking forward to my pizza.”
“Brendon!” she screeched, frustrated. “We can tak
e the pizza with us and reheat it back at my house. Please, I need you to see for yourself what I discovered.” Her final words sounded like a whiny teenager.
“Gosh, okay. You win. I was only teasing. I won’t get any form of peace if I don’t succumb to your wishes. Let’s go.” He took a huge chunk out of his pizza and shoved the rest back in the box.
They both slipped on their coats and boots and jumped in their respective cars. A little while later, Lucy retrieved her flashlight from under the sink in her kitchen. “Follow me,” she ordered.
He did as instructed and followed her out into the night. Lucy led him to the end of her drive and squatted. She shone the light and gently brushed the snow aside with a careful hand. “Look closely. You see that?”
“If you mean a footprint, of course.”
“There’s not just one, Brendon. There are several and they’ve been covered up by the snowplow. I tracked them. They lead from the street right up into my yard and end at my driveway. At least now they do, since the snow has begun to melt.”
“Lucy, I’m trying to be supportive, really I am. But they could have been left by a paperboy.”
“I understand your logic, but I don’t get the paper.”
“Okay, then someone walking their dog who had to retreat into your yard when a car went by too closely. I’m sure I could ordinarily conjure up a dozen other reasons, but dammit, I’m tired.”
“I know where you’re going, Brendon. But there’s more. Come back inside.” Brendon followed her back into the house, wiping his shoes on the rug and then standing to one side to let her pass.
“In the living room?” he queried.
“Exactly. Look at this.” She shone her flashlight behind the sofa that was angled away from the wall. “I was vacuuming this afternoon, needing something to occupy my mind as I was so shaken up about the mystery of the two by four, the comments from Sal, and the prints in my yard—the whole kit and caboodle. I pulled out the sofa with the intention to vacuum behind it, but it refused to budge as it normally does on this wooden floor. I finally shut off the vacuum and took a closer look. You look. Tell me what you see?”
Brendon gauged her face and then obligingly knelt on the sofa cushion and peered over the back. “A pillow.”
“Exactly.”
Brendon’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
She heaved out an impatient sigh. “Do I really have to spell it out for you? Add them up. Someone was in my house when I went up into the attic. They blocked the attic door so I couldn’t get out. That’s not my pillow behind that sofa, and I swear there’s no reason for anyone else’s to be in here. Someone has planted that there to be found. I’m surmising that same person’s footprints are in the process of fading away at the edge of my yard.” He nodded slowly, but his confusion was still evident. “Brendon, someone is framing me to make it look like I had something to do with poor Sylvia Bertram’s death. Or they did the deed and came here to hide the evidence and then, catching me in the attic upstairs, they blocked the door. Or worse, whoever it was also came here to kill me.”
Brendon’s eyes fastened on Lucy’s as her words began to sink in. His investigative mind was rolling through the possibilities she’d just reeled off.
“A lot of this is guess work as I don’t know everything you know about the case, Brendon. Is there something you should be telling me?”
“Put your coat on and come with me.”
Brendon put Lucy in his squad car and, for a few horrible moments, she was afraid he was going to take her to the police station. She sighed with relief when he drove past the turn off and pulled up outside the alley behind Sal’s Sweets. Leaving the engine purring, he stepped out of the vehicle, a long black flashlight in his hand. He shone the beam against the wall next to Sal’s back door.
There was nothing there. The lumber Lucy had seen earlier—was gone.
16
“Lucy, you know there are a hundred different explanations for what you found, including pure coincidence.”
“A pillow behind my sofa?” she cried incredulously, her frustration getting the better of her. “You might think I’m a lousy housekeeper, but even I carry out a thorough clean every few months and yes, that includes vacuuming behind my damn couch.” She spoke sharply, feeling unsupported through the midst of her fears.
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“So, Mr. Top Investigator. What do you suggest I do?”
“I’ll sleep on your sofa tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll put a couple of men on it, and we’ll see what they can turn up. Footprints, fibers, fingerprints, etc.”
“Would you? So you believe me? You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“No, far from it.” Brendon’s tone was comforting and his offer to stay on her couch made her feel like she could finally get a good night’s sleep.
She said the first thing that came into her head without sounding too mushy. “I’ll make you a cake as a thank you.”
“A kiss and maybe a TV show would be much better for my waistline.”
“Deal.”
Nevertheless, as Brendon kicked off his shoes and opened the top button of his uniform shirt, Lucy shifted into housewife mode and plated up the pizza to reheat in the oven. “You make yourself comfortable, this won’t take long to heat through.”
A few minutes later she joined him with the pizza and a bowl of popcorn, even though it was hard for her to feel comfortable, knowing that the pillow was still there behind them and the thought that someone had invaded her home. Brendon caught on immediately.
“This sofa should be left alone,” he said.
“Oh yes, of course! I have a television in my room.”
Brendon gave her a look, and she nodded. “We’re adults,” she said and got up to lead the way.
Lucy flipped on the television in her room with the remote and rearranged the pillows behind them. She handed him his pizza and asked, “What would you like to watch?”
“A comedy perhaps, I think we’ve had enough drama for one day, don’t you?”
“Couldn’t have put it more succinctly myself.” She found an old, black and white comedy series. That was her favorite era, although it had been produced long before she was born. “This okay?” she asked.
“Sure.”
They tucked into their dinner, but Lucy hardly made it past a quarter of her pizza before she fell asleep.
Laughter awakening her, Lucy raised her head and glanced around the room. The TV was off. She was startled to find Brendon no longer lying next to her. He had laid the covers from his half of the bed over her. She got out of bed and found him in the kitchen, brewing coffee.
“What’s all the laughing about?”
“Don’t look now, but I think your once frightened neighbor just found the determination to get out in the big wide world.”
“No! Really?” Lucy ran to the window in time to see Marnie toddling down the street, Winnie just one step behind her. Winnie bent and scooped up a handful of the wet, melting snow and threw a snowball at the back of Marnie’s coat. Marnie shrieked with laughter and turned to lob her own ball back into Winnie’s face.
“They’re like a couple of kids,” Brendon observed.
“I hope Winnie never decides to move on. She has been so good for Marnie.”
“Looks like you were right. Good job, Lucy. I need to get going.”
“You’re going to send someone over, right?”
“Sure will. I’ll be too busy to attend.” He zipped up his jacket. “I’ve got to work on the Stiltson case today, but I’ll check in on you later. Why don’t you get your mind off things and settle down to write your book?”
“I’ll try. See you later.”
He kissed her on the cheek and left the house. She watched him pause, look toward the snowbank and then at Sylvia’s house. He seemed thoughtful before getting into his car and driving off.
Lucy grabbed a quick shower and got dressed, then she made her bed
before entering her office to work as Brendon had suggested. From time to time, she saw Marnie and Winnie pass by, throwing snowballs and laughing. That made Lucy’s heart sing with joy. At least something has turned out for the best lately!
An hour or so later, there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find Deputy Carl Wood standing on the porch. “Hello, Carl. Would you like to step in?”
“Uh, yeah, uh, Brendon sent me over to have a look at a few things you had questions about? I believe he said you had a… pillow?”
Lucy could tell by his attitude that Brendon had probably sent him only because she was his girlfriend. She resented that idea and hoped Carl would still take things seriously. “Yes, let me show you. Someone put it there and it wasn’t me. No one else has access to the house—at least, not without my permission.”
“Then, let’s have a look.” He wiped his feet on the mat as he entered, and Lucy showed him into the living room. She stood back, allowing him access to do what he needed to do. Lucy left him to it and returned to her office.
A little while later, Carl appeared in the doorway. “Anything else in the house?”
“No, unless you need to see the attic door which they blocked with a two by four?”
“I took a quick look at that. Brendon mentioned something about outside. Can you show me?”
Lucy slipped on her coat and shoes, and showed him the footprints. She discussed the rest of her concerns with him while he studied what was left of the evidence now that the big thaw had set in. Not long after, he left.
She went back inside, feeling despondent by his attempt to appease her. He had seemed half-hearted in his efforts, and mulling things over; she really couldn’t blame him.
The urge to take a short nap overwhelmed her. She listened to her body for a change and lay down on her bed. However, she was unable to rest, the clues swirling through her mind, causing her to become more alert instead of drowsier.
