“Really?” Her liquid brown eyes widened.
“Don’t you want to keep working as a librarian?” I demanded.
“Well, of course. Wildspace is one of the few organizations that’s really—”
“Then just keep on doing it,” I told her. “And pick a place to live somewhere between the two of you. Or just stay at your place.”
I gave her a great big smile, remembering worrying about all the same things. Damn, it felt good to be able to pass on my experience, real experience that might actually help her. Unless Charlie was a murderer, of course. There was always that possibility.
“But date for a while and live apart till you’re sure,” I amended quickly. “That’s what we did.” At least “dating” was a good euphemism for what Wayne and I had done. Almost every night. But I was pretty sure Pam got the point.
She nodded her head, her eyes still wide open.
“It’ll be perfect,” I promised her, just hoping I wasn’t lying.
“Ay, Kate, muchas gracias!” she cried and pulled me into a hug that almost smothered me. She was a big and beautiful woman all right, all the way around.
Once I caught my breath, Pam and I walked back to the crowd, arm in arm. I looked over at Charlie who was standing with Anna May, the woman who had sung “Amazing Grace” and “Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” but Charlie’s eyes were on Pam. And they were sparkling. I would have bet mine were too. Love really was grand. As long as neither of the lovers were murderers, anyway.
We were almost to Wayne and Aurora when I heard Aurora’s clear, deep voice chime out.
“…And it was so good to see Kate yesterday,” she was telling Wayne. “And as far as her talking with Jack, I think she might actually have been helpful in unlocking the abundance of joy Jack holds within his heart.” She reached out to put a wrinkled hand on her son’s arm. Jack did look pretty good. He was humming, his eyes focused. But Wayne. All I could see of my sweetie was his back, but the sudden stiffness in his neck and shoulders said it all. Damn. I never had told him about meeting Aurora yesterday. Or Jack. Or Natalie for that matter.
“You know,” Aurora continued, “sometimes the most fantastic miracles can arise from events that look disastrous at face value.” I hoped she was right as she turned to give Jack a small embrace.
Wayne took Aurora’s momentary distraction as an opportunity to jerk his head around and aim a quick glare my way, before turning back just as quickly. My whole body flinched in guilt. And then I wondered how he’d even known I was behind him.
“It’s really true, what the masters say,” Aurora went on serenely as she released her son from her embrace. “Transformation is always possible.”
I slapped an inane smile on my face and pulled Pam the other way, wondering what I would say to Wayne when we finally discussed the matter. If we ever did discuss the matter. My legs felt weak as we drifted over to where Natalie and Mark were talking. Actually, to where Natalie was talking.
“People die,” she was saying, her usual brusque voice tight with something that sounded like more than just sadness. Was it fear? Or maybe even anger? “There’s no net gain. There’s no net loss. People just die! That’s just the way it is!”
Another conversation I didn’t feel like joining in. I looked at Pam. She looked back at me. And we abruptly executed an about-face and walked the other way. And saw Becky and Charlie heading toward us.
“Talk to him,” I whispered when Charlie reached us, giving Pam a little push. “Just talk to him.”
Pam gave me a kiss on the cheek and left with Charlie, walking toward the duck pond. They weren’t holding hands, but their bodies were so close, it would have been hard to slide a ruler between them.
“Are they a couple again?” Becky asked me softly.
“I hope so!” I answered with all my heart.
“I hope so too,” Becky murmured. “There ought to be some happiness for someone out of all of this, this…”
I swiveled my head back her way as she began to cry.
“Oh, Kate,” she sobbed, grabbing my arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“About what?” I asked impatiently. And then realized that this was my chance. I looked around us. There was no one within ten feet.
“Becky,” I whispered. “Did Sid rape you in high school?”
Her head bobbed up, and she dropped my arms. She gazed at me, her wet blue eyes wide with surprise.
“What?” she demanded and leaned back precariously.
I reached out an arm to steady her. She grabbed it and pulled herself forward again.
“Did Sid rape you in high school?” I repeated.
She stared at me for a moment more and then began to giggle, her eyes still wet with tears. I wondered how much alcohol had played a part in the spread Aunt Lenore and Uncle Marty had provided.
“Sid never had to rape me,” Becky declared, forgoing even a hint of a whisper now. I glanced around stealthily, but no one seemed to be listening. “You know how Sid could talk. Talk, talk, talk. He could have talked his way into a nunnery. Hell, he’s probably talking his way into heaven right now. Well, he just talked me right into, well…you know.” She winked one wet blue eye largely. “Course, we were awful stoned at the time.” Then she giggled again, leaning into me. “Awful stoned.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I figured it was Becky’s son, D.V., again. I hadn’t seen him at the memorial, but he always seemed to turn up whenever I was talking to his mother. Well, at least the hand was gentler than before. Maybe he was learning. I turned, without raising my knee this time. Only it wasn’t D.V. behind me. It was Wayne.
My heart did a double flip in my chest. I looked up into Wayne’s eyes, searching for forgiveness. But all I saw was eyebrows.
“Walk,” was what he said.
“Sure,” was what I said back, untangling myself from Becky’s grip gently. When Wayne got down to one-syllable sentences, he was upset.
“Are you all right, Becky?” I asked, but Becky had already turned and was waving over her shoulder as she staggered over toward Mark and Natalie. That would be an interesting conversation, I decided. If she ever got there.
I put my arm into the crook of Wayne’s bigger one and we began to walk away from the crowd, toward the hills. But before we had gone five feet, I felt a tug on my other arm.
What was it, tug on Kate day? I thought as I turned.
“Kate!” Elaine hissed. “I have to talk to you.”
“So talk,” I advised, trying to control my irritation as I scanned the remaining mourners and wondered how clandestine this meeting looked to whomever had threatened Wayne’s life. I felt like screaming out that I wasn’t snooping. For all the good it would have done.
“Privately,” Elaine whispered, jerking her head in a furtive over-the-shoulder sweep. “At my house in an hour.”
“I really can’t,” I began. “There’s no reason for me to—”
“We’ll be there,” Wayne cut in.
“But—” But what? I looked up at his granite features. Was I going to tell him I’d stopped investigating because someone had threatened his life? And I hadn’t bothered to tell him about it?
“Please?” Elaine said, looking at me again, looking into my eyes.
“Oh, all right,” I gave in without grace. It was two against one. And maybe, just maybe, no one else would know.
“One hour,” Elaine repeated, her words imperious now that I’d agreed. Then she turned on her stiletto heels and strode back to the main party.
Wayne took my arm gently in his. At least he didn’t tug on it.
“If you’re going to talk to these people, I’m going to be with you,” he stated quietly and began to walk again. No, not to walk. To march. Up a steep green hill. With me marching double time to keep up.
And that was all he said until we reached the top of the hill a half an hour later. I was huffing and puffing and grabbing my side, trying to staunch the stabbing pains. Wayne was as silent as I was l
oud.
He spread out his suit jacket and we sat down side by side, carefully sweating in tandem. There was no mowed grass up here on the top of the hill. Just weeds and wild wheat. But the view was great. We could see the whole memorial gathering below us. Or what was left of it. Elaine was gone. And so were most of the people who’d assembled earlier. Only Ed and a few of Sid’s relatives were still there, cleaning up the picnic tables that had been loaded with food.
“So?” I gasped, finally turning to Wayne.
“I love you,” he murmured, eyes cast down. “That’s all.”
“Oh, Wayne,” I said and collapsed into his arms. It was an easy collapse. I was exhausted.
Unfortunately, it was a harder climb back down the hill, but at least it was faster than going up. We made it in twenty minutes and climbed into the car to drive to Elaine’s. It was very quiet in the Toyota as I drove. I was just as glad. If Wayne didn’t feel like talking, I didn’t feel like confessing.
When we got to Elaine’s, I parked on the street below the house as she’d requested the last time we’d visited, and we hiked up the long tree-lined driveway, my muscles still protesting our earlier trek.
Finally, we got to the top of the driveway. Elaine’s BMW was parked diagonally, skewed across the blacktop. She must have been in a hurry, I thought. She was blocking her own garage. Well, I was in a hurry too. I was sick of this whole business.
“Don’t go any closer,” Wayne ordered suddenly, his hand on my arm.
But my legs kept on moving. Because my eyes had already seen.
Sunlight was glinting off of something sticking out from under the BMW. Gold threads. Gold threads woven into black stockings.
- Nineteen -
And then I saw the lone shoe. One shoe, more than a yard away from the car. A black shoe with one long, slender stiletto heel and one big gold bow.
My limbs froze beneath my soggy clothing, finally receiving the signal to halt. Too late. Why hadn’t I stopped when Wayne had told me to? Before Wayne had told me to? Because now I could see the other shoe too, still on Elaine’s left foot stretched out from beneath the BMW. And her legs, encased in black stockings with gold threads glittering in the sun.
“Dead?” I heard and then realized it was my own voice asking.
“Must be,” Wayne’s voice came back, barely audible.
I wanted to turn his way, to see if he was all right, but I just couldn’t move my head. Or my eyes. I couldn’t stop seeing. The gold threads seemed to be glowing now. In fact, everything seemed to be glowing. And tilting. No, spinning.
I was sitting on the blacktop before I knew I’d planned to. But I was moving again. At least, parts of me were. All my limbs seemed to be shaking. And my stomach was doing a new dance step I didn’t want to learn. I took a deep breath and looked up at Wayne. He’d stopped in his tracks too, eyes closed, body swaying.
I stood up fast. Too fast. But I ignored my own wave of dizziness and grabbed Wayne around the waist, steadying us both at the same time as I leaned into him.
“Sit,” I told him.
His eyes popped open.
“Sit,” I repeated.
So he sat, and I sat. And we had a little conversation.
“She’d be moving if she was still alive, wouldn’t she?” I asked.
“Think so,” Wayne agreed.
I didn’t want to check. Because to check I’d have to get closer. To check I’d have to touch her. Could you get a pulse from an ankle?
“There’s a whole BMW on top of her,” I pointed out. But I still knew I’d have to check. What if she were dying right now as we spoke?
“Her torso must be crushed,” Wayne added. I didn’t think he wanted to check either.
“Ambulance,” I suggested. “We need to call an ambulance.”
“Or the police,” Wayne agreed, nodding. Then he heaved a big sigh and stood up. But he didn’t move toward the house. He moved toward the BMW. Quickly. Toward Elaine. Before I had a chance to join him.
I turned my head involuntarily as he knelt down to touch her.
“Dead,” he announced a few breaths later. “Can’t find…can’t find…” His voice shriveled into a croak.
I spun my head back around and saw him bent over, one hand on the BMW bumper, the other on his stomach, his eyes closed again.
I was up in a heartbeat and holding him, keeping my eyes averted from what was left of Elaine. I helped Wayne stand up again and together we walked slowly toward the house, ringing the bell when we got there. We had to get inside to phone. But, of course, no one was home.
By the time we figured out how to get into the house through the garage, we were both feeling better. Dizzy, sick, and dry-mouthed, but better.
We went back out to sit on the blacktop again, our backs to the BMW. I would have liked to have sat further away, but Wayne was worried that someone else might turn up before the police.
“Who?” I asked, my mind still too muddled by shock to think clearly.
“Elaine’s children,” he answered quietly.
The image of Dawn, Elyse, and Eddie Junior walking with their aunt Ursula filled my mind with the full sensory detail of virtual reality. I just hoped they were with Ursula still. I hoped they’d be with Ursula for a long time. She seemed to like them. Maybe to love them. And their mother…their mother—
That was when I began to cry.
Fortunately, it was the police who came sirening up the driveway before any of the Timmons family did. A man and woman in uniform jumped out of the first car. The woman sprinted toward the BMW. The man strode toward us.
“You the ones that called it in?” he asked.
Wayne and I nodded simultaneously.
“You touch anything?” he asked.
“No,” I answered just as Wayne answered, “Yes.”
A tremor jerked my shoulders. Wayne had touched the car. And Elaine. Would they think…No, no, I told myself. Whoever killed Elaine didn’t lift the car onto her body. They drove it over her. I took a quick breath, wishing I hadn’t thought that one out in detail.
Detective Sergeant Gonzales had joined the party before Wayne even had a chance to explain why he’d touched the car. And then we both had lots of time to explain. Separately. Wayne on one side of the driveway first, then me on the other. Why were we there in the first place? Why had Elaine asked us there? Why had we entered the house to call? Why had Wayne touched the body? How well did we know Elaine? Who and what did we see as we came up the driveway? Who and what did we see and hear at the memorial service? Why did Elaine want to talk to us specifically? How did I really feel about Elaine Timmons?
I had a feeling Gonzales was going to begin with the Miranda rights routine again when Chief Irick arrived on the scene.
The chief oozed out of an unmarked car and hitched up his pants before strolling toward Sergeant Gonzales and me. There was a big smile on his red face.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite little murder lady,” he called out. “Right on the scene again. Making a habit of it, aren’t you? You didn’t happen to kill this woman here, now, did you?”
I shook my head. “No, sir,” I added, trying to funnel respect and sincerity into my tone. And trying to weed the revulsion out. Implied lechery and absolute authority are not an appetizing mixture.
Irick was still smiling. But Gonzales wasn’t.
“We have the situation under control, sir,” the detective sergeant told his chief. “If you’ll just—”
“Just what, Gonzales?” Irick interrupted, the smile never leaving his face as his head swiveled around to face his sergeant. “Just retire so you can take over?”
“Sir!” Gonzales hissed.
I turned my head, embarrassed for both of them. Especially for Gonzales. Much as he scared me, he was a professional. I wasn’t sure what Irick was.
Unfortunately, I turned my head too far. There was yellow crime scene tape all around the BMW now, but Elaine’s legs were still sticking out from under the
car, glittering in the sun. My stomach starting practicing that new dance step again. I brought my head back fast. Back to face Chief Irick.
Irick’s interrogation was decidedly more casual than Gonzales’s had been. And a lot faster. Did I kill Elaine Timmons? Did I know who did? And did I have anything important to add?
“Then you and your boyfriend can get on out of here,” he finished up.
I could almost hear the sound of Sergeant Gonzales’s anxiety attack from where he had stomped off behind us. I peeked over my shoulder. Nothing was coming from his lips, but the air was crackling around him as he imploded. And I couldn’t really blame him.
But I wasn’t about to take any time out to console the man. I grabbed Wayne and we drove off before either Gonzales or Irick decided to ask us anything else. I wanted out of there.
“Do you suppose anyone’s thought to intercept Ed Timmons?” I asked Wayne once we were safely in the car heading back down the road. “And Ursula and the kids?”
“Hope so,” was his only reply.
In fact that was all he had to say for the rest of the trip home. But Wayne made up for what he lacked verbally with his big, gentle hands. He massaged my shoulders, and patted my arm, and stroked my head and neck over and over as I drove. If C.C. had been there she would have been jealous. And it began to work. His big hands were wiping out the pictures I’d seen. Maybe for him too. If only they could wipe out my thoughts.
Because I wanted answers as much as Sergeant Gonzales did. Why had Elaine wanted to talk to me? Had she known who Sid’s killer was? If I had talked to her earlier, would she still be alive?
Of course I didn’t have any answers by the time I pulled into my own driveway. But at least when Wayne and I got out of the Toyota we finally got to hold each other. And we held each other tight. So tight, we could have broken bones. Somehow, Elaine’s death had gotten to both of us more than Sid’s. Was it because of the children? Or the way she’d looked—
Most Likely to Die (A Kate Jasper Mystery) Page 19
