Midnight Snacks are Murder

by Libby Klein

  “McAllister, are you back there?”

  “Ahhh, yeah. I was just getting some air.” I stuffed my notebook back into my purse and rushed toward the front of the police station before Amber came back to find me.

  Amber was on the front steps of the police station with her arms crossed and her police sunglasses hiding her eyes. Aunt Ginny was not with her. “I need you to be calm. There’s been a development.”

  Chapter 42

  “If you go outside of your permitted zone you will set off the alarm.” Amber snapped the band in place on Aunt Ginny’s ankle and locked it. “I had to call in a few favors to get your confinement moved from a holding cell to your house, so don’t let me down and run off again.”

  We were in the front parlor, where Amber was fitting Aunt Ginny with a tracking monitor. Figaro was sniffing the black plastic band tentatively. He gave the red flashing light a swipe with his paw. Amber reached down to pet him on the top of his head, and he recoiled like she was poisonous, which made Aunt Ginny snicker under her breath.

  Amber’s police radio crackled to life. She turned her head and clicked the button to speak. “Affirmative, front room to the left.”

  A team of officers strode into the house. The one at the front handed Amber an official document. She looked it over and handed it to me.

  “You’ve seen one of these before, it’s a warrant giving us access to search the premises.” Amber motioned for the officers to get started.

  “Just so I’m clear,” I asked, “what are the charges?”

  “She’s being placed on house arrest pending her trial. I hear the DA is pushing for involuntary manslaughter. All you can do now is pray that some evidence surfaces that points away from her.”

  “I appreciate the captain’s latitude with us, Amber.”

  Amber stood and checked the monitor’s tracking app on her phone. “Don’t think for a minute it was a personal favor to you. I was able to pull some strings citing her age and health concerns.”

  Aunt Ginny grunted and looked away.

  “But you’re in charge of making sure that she stays put until her trial. If she runs off again, I’ll have to keep her in county lockup.” Amber looked at Aunt Ginny. “And no one wants that, Mrs. Frankowski.”

  Aunt Ginny shook her foot to see what would happen. “How am I supposed to take a bath with this thing on my leg?”

  “It can get wet, it’s waterproof. You just can’t leave your allowed zone.”

  “And what is my allowed zone?”

  “About three thousand feet. Roughly the size of your yard.”

  Aunt Ginny looked at her anklet and frowned.

  Thirty minutes later, the search team came back through the house, finishing their quest. They left with a couple of rolling pins, including my brand-new French one I’d just bought from the chef supply store with Tim. They also had a couple of thick wooden rods, followed by Georgina protesting.

  “Hey, those are my custom-made cedar boot trees. They cost me a small fortune.”

  Amber made some notes in her flip book and snapped it shut. “I’m done here. If anything new turns up, call me. Remember to stay in your zone, Mrs. Frankowski.”

  Amber went to the front door and took one last look into the parlor at Aunt Ginny sitting placidly on the love seat, shaking her foot. Then she said to me, “You do a terrible job of keeping her safe.”

  “It’s not my fault. Containing her is like wrestling a baby cheetah. Before you can blink an eye she’s into something else.”

  Amber’s mouth twitched. She cleared her throat and put on her sunglasses, then turned and walked out the front door.

  I went back to the parlor with Aunt Ginny. We stared at each other for a minute. We both sighed.

  Aunt Ginny stood and stretched. “I’m going to go take a little nap. The cot in the jail cell left a lot to be desired in the way of comfort. I didn’t get a wink all night.”

  “Okay. If you need anything, just holler.”

  “I will.” Figaro the traitor trotted off after her.

  Amber is right, as much as I hate admitting it to myself. I have to do a better job protecting Aunt Ginny. I don’t know how much time she has left. I want her to have fun, but I don’t want to see her get hurt. I have to figure out who really killed Brody Brandt before Aunt Ginny gets convicted for it, and time is quickly running out.

  My cell phone rang. It was Amber.

  “McAllister, what is your aunt doing?! I haven’t even gone around the block yet!”

  “She’s taking a nap.”

  “Really? Do you have her in your sights?”

  “Well, no, I …”

  “She is setting off her anklet. Go see what she’s doing now!”

  I hurried down the hall, through the kitchen to Aunt Ginny’s bedroom. “I don’t see how that’s possible.” I flung open the bedroom door. Aunt Ginny was sitting in the middle of her bed with a screwdriver, an ice pick, a pair of pliers, and a meat tenderizer mallet, trying to pry the lock on her tracking anklet.

  “Aunt Ginny!”

  “What?”

  “Knock it off! You’re setting off your alarm!”

  Aunt Ginny threw down the screwdriver and flung herself onto her back on the bed. “Argh!”

  I tried to calm my voice on the phone. “False alarm, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about here.”

  “Make sure it stays that way!” Click.

  I looked back at Aunt Ginny drilling holes in her ceiling with her eyes. I could hear the gears moving in her head, concocting another plan. “Look, Lindsay Lohan, you leave that anklet alone or they’re gonna haul you out of here. County jail doesn’t have the Game Show Network—I would know.”

  Aunt Ginny flung herself on her side away from me.

  I was afraid to leave the house, so over the course of the next few hours I made phone calls, and checked on Aunt Ginny. I called Gia and my midnight posse who had helped me search for her, and told them Aunt Ginny was officially charged and under house arrest.

  Then I checked on Aunt Ginny, who was in the corner of the yard playing the hokeypokey and sticking her foot through the fence, trying to see how far she could go before she would activate her anklet.

  Then I addressed the police who showed up because her alarm was going off.

  So apparently her range was about two feet from the edge of the neighbor’s yard. On all sides. Which I now knew because she pulled the same stunt three more times. Once when she was “in the potty,” once when she was “doing laundry,” and once when she was “watching TV” and I was in the bathroom.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Research.”

  “What kind of research?”

  “They’re getting slower.”

  “Are you testing police response times?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s called plausible de-ni-ability.”

  “I’m exhausted. Could you just give it a rest, for God’s sake?”

  Aunt Ginny looked contrite. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve put you through a lot over the past couple of days. Why don’t I make us some coffee and we can go over the plan my lawyer sent over?”

  “That would be good. Thank you.”

  Aunt Ginny went to make us some coffee, and I called Tim.

  “Hey, gorgeous, what’s happening?”

  “I just wanted to thank you again for last night. I don’t know what I would have done without your help in checking the hospitals and urgent care facilities for me.”

  “Of course. I’ll always be there for you, you know that. What happened with Aunt Ginny after Amber took her in?”

  “She’s been formally charged with murder.”

  He sighed. “I was afraid it would come to that.”

  “I still think she’s innocent.”

  “I think you need to face the facts, Mack. She may not be.”

  I was angrily defending her honor when there was a knock
at the door. A police officer had Aunt Ginny by the arm. She was wearing a wet suit and a baseball hat, and carrying a croquet mallet.

  “What the … ? Tim, I gotta go.”

  “We pulled her over at the end of the street, ma’am.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Aunt Ginny rolled her shoulders back. “I was going to the community center pool to play water polo.”

  I was dumbfounded. “You can’t. Why would you …”

  Aunt Ginny lifted her foot up. “She said it was waterproof.”

  “She also said you can’t leave the yard.”

  Aunt Ginny stormed back to her room. “You never let me have any fun!”

  I apologized to the officers and promised to try to do better. They didn’t seem to believe me, and a patrol car sat in front of my house for the remainder of the day.

  Georgina stayed blissfully out of the way most of the day. I suspected a cookie hangover.

  Figaro followed Aunt Ginny back and forth, fascinated. He knew something was up, he could feel it in the energy riding on the air. He liked this new show and didn’t want to miss an episode.

  Meanwhile, Aunt Ginny fidgeted and whined. She paced the floor and complained. “I’m old. I could die any day now.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I shouldn’t be locked up like this. I’m not an animal.”

  “It’s temporary.”

  “I-I can’t breathe. My chest is getting tight …”

  “No, it isn’t. Sit down.”

  Aunt Ginny flopped in her easy chair in front of the television. She pouted for a couple of minutes, regrouping. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you let me go to the movies.”

  “Show me the hundred.”

  “Gah!”

  There was a knock at the front door. I looked at Aunt Ginny.

  “What? It isn’t me this time. I’m right here.”

  I stood to get the door, then stopped. I turned back to Aunt Ginny, who had leaned forward in her chair to get up. She was hovering over the seat trying to look nonchalant. “What?”

  “Come with me.”

  “I don’t wanna.”

  “Do it anyway. I don’t trust you by yourself.”

  I took her hand and together we walked to the front door. It was Sawyer, and she’d brought the old biddies with her. Sawyer enveloped Aunt Ginny in a hug. “I’m so sorry. I heard about the house arrest, and I thought you could use some company tonight to support you.”

  Aunt Ginny teared up. I teared up. Sawyer sobbed. Then the old biddies came in and wanted to see the anklet.

  The rest of the night passed a little easier, thanks to the distraction that Sawyer provided, and the peach schnapps that Mrs. Dodson brought in her bingo bag. Georgina heard her new best friends were in the house and bearing gifts, so she pulled herself away from her room to join the party.

  It was almost one a.m. before the ladies wore down. Sawyer and I could barely keep our eyes open, but Aunt Ginny and “the girls” were playing their fifth round of rummy.

  “Sawyer, thank you. You saved me tonight.”

  Sawyer waved her hand. “It was nothing. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Well, I have to get some work done tomorrow morning and I can’t take my eyes off of her for a minute. Could you come babysit for a while?”

  “Sure. I have someone in the bookstore who can cover for me tomorrow morning. Piece of cake.”

  “You know she’s going to try to get over on you and sneak out.”

  “She’ll be fine. Aunt Ginny loves me. She won’t give me any trouble.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

  Chapter 43

  The next morning, I let a bleary-eyed Sawyer in to help keep an eye on the Gangsta Granny.

  “How’d it go last night?”

  I sighed. “The schnapps helped. She didn’t try to escape until around five a.m.”

  “Is that why there’s an Officer Birkwell in front of the mailbox?”

  “He had the pleasure of frisking her, to fish her spare car keys out of her bloomers this morning.”

  “That explains his sour mood.”

  Sawyer and I had coffee and blueberry streusel bars made with cassava flour for breakfast, while Aunt Ginny was still in bed—I hoped.

  Smitty came through the kitchen whistling a tune, and grabbed one of the Paleo pastries.

  “Where is my range, Smitty? I’ve been nuking stuff from the coffee shop for almost two weeks.”

  Smitty poured himself a cup of coffee and groaned. “I’ll call again this morning. The last I heard it was in Sheboygan.”

  I put my cup down hard on the table and gave Smitty a look.

  He gave me a lopsided frown. “Paperwork error—theirs! Not mine.”

  “Please see what you can do.”

  Smitty saluted. “You got it, boss.” Then he peeked out onto the side porch for Georgina.

  “You don’t have to worry. The Queen has taken a spa day. Said she was stressed out and needed some pampering.”

  Smitty gave me a deadpan look. “I don’t know what we will do without her today.” He left to enjoy his morning and look as though he was working hard while accomplishing very little.

  I asked Sawyer a question that had been on my mind for several days. “What’s been going on with you?”

  Sawyer shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I hardly see you unless there’s an emergency. Granted there have been a lot of emergencies lately.”

  Sawyer shrugged. “I’ve been around.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “What? No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You rarely answer your phone.”

  “It’s not you … it’s … I’ve been busy.”

  I waited for her to go on.

  “I don’t want you to judge me.”

  “When do I ever judge you?”

  “Well, you don’t. But you might.”

  “I promise to try to keep my opinion to myself.”

  Sawyer didn’t look convinced. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but maybe soon.”

  Aunt Ginny slogged in from her bedroom. “Mornin’ Thelma, Louise. What commotion are you cookin’ up this dismal day?”

  Sawyer beamed her a big smile. “I’m here to keep you company this morning.”

  Aunt Ginny grinned much like the Grinch when he planned to ruin Christmas. “Today is looking up after all.”

  “Behave yourself, Aunt Ginny. I have to go make some muffins at the restaurant this morning.”

  “I always behave myself.”

  Sawyer choked on her blueberry bar.

  “Uh-huh. Well, behave like someone else then. Someone old who likes to sit around all day and knit.”

  Aunt Ginny waved her hand at me. “Pssshhh.”

  I checked the time on my phone. “Okay, I’ve got to get my day started. You two have fun. Or rather, Sawyer, have fun. Aunt Ginny, nap a lot.”

  I heard Sawyer trying to make plans for inside activities like puzzles and board games with Aunt Ginny as I headed up the stairs to my room. I did my yoga. At least I tried. I was under so much stress that I was a lot tighter than usual, so I couldn’t quite get the positions right. I took my shower and got ready for my day. As I was hanging up my clothes, the envelope Judy had given me two days ago fell out of my blouse.

  I had forgotten all about that, with the search for Aunt Ginny and the arrest and all. I opened the clasp and removed the documents and the flash drive.

  The folder contained printed sheets with a Post-it note stuck to the top page that said I know! The pages were account transactions with Brody listed as the broker.

  They were all moderate debits, from $5,000 to $10,000. The combined total was $100,000. All debits from different client accounts over the course of three months, but they were all deposited into the same account for Wit’sec Industries. The last t
ransaction was dated a week before Brody was murdered. I googled Wit’sec Industries. It didn’t exist. The only thing that came up was the federal government’s Witness Protection Program.

  My phone rang. It was Officer Amber. “Her alarm is going off, McAllister!”

  I hollered downstairs, “Sawyer!”

  Sawyer hollered from the kitchen, “Aunt Ginny!”

  Aunt Ginny hollered from the yard outside my window, “Fine!”

  Then there was the sound of doors slamming and feet stomping.

  “Sorry, Amber.”

  She hung up.

  “Well, goodbye to you too.” Whatever.

  I plugged the flash drive into my laptop. There were two files. One was a backup file from the server, and the other was titled Screenshots. I tried to open the backup file but I didn’t have the software installed to run it, so I clicked on the Screenshots folder. Inside were pictures of the same printouts I had before me. Only instead of Brody’s name listed as the initiating broker, Kylie’s was recorded. The file was dated three weeks earlier than the hard copies, and the file path on the screen showed that the pictures were taken from the backup logs.

  When John was alive, I did some part-time work for his law firm. Mostly receptionist and admin duties. It was part of my job to run the backups on the server every night. Once I clicked on an innocent link while doing completely work-related tasks. Okay fine, I was buying a pair of shoes. The link hid a virus and it brought our entire network down. The IT department had to restore all our data from the backup tapes.

  Judging from the dates on these printouts, I’d say Kylie made these transactions, and later changed the name in the file to implicate Brody. Only she never cleared out the backup files from the server. Brody must have discovered what was going on and found the proof that he was innocent. But why would he sit on it? Why tape it to the bottom of his desk instead of going to Ken and saying Look what I found?

  I picked up the papers again and flipped through them. They weren’t all ledger sheets. The last page was from the Teen Center. It was a student file for M. Huber. M. Huber enrolled in the Teen Center program last January and graduated with forty hours of community service in April. What is so special about that? Maybe this was sitting on Brody’s desk and he accidentally scooped it up with the ledger printouts. I know I’ve done that. You lose your personal property tax bill and later find it in the folder with your veterinary records.