by Jessica Beck
As I headed upstairs, I began to regret our decision to split up almost immediately. I constantly yelled at the television when Greg and I watched those Women in Peril movies they showed late at night. Sometimes the lead characters did the dumbest things, and I could never understand their motivation for putting their lives at risk, and yet here I was, doing basically the same thing that I blamed them for doing. Well, not entirely. I wasn’t alone in the house, at least. My grandfather was just a phone call away, and no matter how old Moose might be, I knew that he’d have my back.
The second stair from the top creaked so loudly that I almost screamed as my foot hit the tread. If Mitchell was upstairs, I’d just announced my presence, loud and clear. I decided to play it safe, just in case he really was up there somewhere.
“Mitchell? Are you there? We heard a noise outside, so we thought we’d come check on you.”
We hadn’t heard anything, as a matter of fact, but I wanted some plausible deniability to the fact that my grandfather and I were actually trespassing on his property.
There was no answer, and I finally started to breathe again.
The bedrooms were rather austere, with no extraneous photographs, or anything that made it appear that someone was actually living there. I wondered how the closets would look, and the first one was normal enough, filled with men’s shoes, hanging shirts and pants, and a few decent suits.
The second closet was nothing like that, though.
As I opened the door, a light switched on automatically, and I saw that instead of paint, the walls were papered with photographs of Ellen. There were hundreds of candid shots, dating back to when she must have been in high school, and in nearly every instance, it appeared that she wasn’t even aware that she was being photographed.
I felt my breath choke in my throat. I could easily see this man as Ellen’s stalker. Taking out my camera phone, I snapped a few shots, but as I looked at them, I realized that they couldn’t begin to convey the overall creepiness of the space. After I had a few photos as a record, I called Moose.
“Come upstairs right now,” I said in a whisper. I wanted someone else to see what I was looking at.
“I’ll be right there,” he said.
As I hung up the phone, I heard that top step squeak, and I knew that there was no way that Moose had made it up the stairs that quickly.
Pulling the door closed until just a crack of light peeked through, I looked out to see if Mitchell was coming into the bedroom, and when I saw him darken the doorway, I nearly cried out, solely as a reflex of panic. I managed to stifle it, though. I had to. I didn’t want Mitchell catching me in that closet, but then again, I couldn’t have him ambushing my grandfather, either.
I had to do something, and I had to do it fast.
Chapter 17
I looked around the closet for something that I could use as a weapon, but unfortunately, there was nothing really there. No clothes hung on the wooden rod, and no empty hangers, either.
They would have interfered with Mitchell’s photo gallery, most likely.
The only thing that was there was the closet rod, a thick round piece of wood that looked stout enough to take a man down. I tried to pull the rod from its holders, but someone had screwed the thing in place on each end. The only way I was going to free it was with a screwdriver, something I most definitely was not carrying on me at the moment.
But I did have some change in my pocket.
Working as fast as I could, I used a dime to try to unscrew the rod from its moorings.
It was a complete and total failure.
I kept trying to free it, though, and as I did, I heard the footsteps coming closer, faster and faster.
There was nothing that I could use to fight back.
Facing the door, I decided to use the last option in my arsenal as I waited for Mitchell to open it and discover me. I might not have any weapons that I could use in my own defense, but I could still fight back. After all, I had two strong arms and legs, and I’d use them as weapons to defend myself if that was my only chance of getting out of there alive.
I knew that if Moose heard the fight, he’d race to join in, no matter how bad the odds might seem. It was entirely likely that we both would go down to a killer, but at least we wouldn’t go down without fighting back.
Mitchell was nearly to the closet door now, and I could hear my heart trying to beat right out of my chest, when I heard the doorbell downstairs.
He hesitated, and then it rang again.
Who could it be?
I waited until I heard Mitchell walk down the stairs, and once I was certain that he was at the bottom, I raced out of the closet and through the spare bedroom.
Being careful to skip the squeaking stair, I made my way down, only to find Moose standing outside repeatedly ringing the bell.
Mitchell was still inside, though, and it didn’t appear that he was in any mood to come out. I could stand there and listen to their conversation, but I couldn’t get past Mitchell and make my way outside. I might be able to go out the back way with a little luck, but I needed a distraction in order to do it.
As I was trying to figure out the best way to slip past Mitchell, Moose did it for me.
At least I hoped that he was just acting, and that he wasn’t really having a heart attack on Mitchell Cobb’s front porch.
Chapter 18
“Moose, are you okay?” Mitchell Cobb asked as he shot out the door and knelt down beside my grandfather. It was eerie seeing Moose lying so silently on the porch, but I couldn’t stop to worry about him yet. Tearing around the corner, I found the back door in the kitchen, and unlocking it as silently as I could, I slipped out and hurriedly closed it behind me.
Now it was my turn to act.
I tried to slow my breathing and my heartbeat as I rounded the corner, and keeping my voice as nonchalant as I could manage, I said, “Moose, I don’t think he’s here.”
“Victoria, something’s wrong with your grandfather,” Mitchell said. “I already called 911, and they are on the way. What should I do in the meantime? I took a CPR class a few years ago, but they said that I was too rough. I don’t want to break his ribs.”
“I don’t want that, either,” I said. I brushed him aside, and got down close to Moose’s mouth. “Are you okay?”
“My heart,” he croaked out as he clutched his chest.
This didn’t feel like acting to me. “Hang in there, Moose. The ambulance is on its way.”
I was about to call my grandmother when the ambulance zoomed up the street toward us. Two husky paramedics got out, assessed Moose quickly, and I saw my grandfather whisper to one of them.
The man nodded, and as they loaded him onto the stretcher, the paramedic said, “You need to come with us.”
I nodded, too, and then I told Mitchell, “I’ll come back later to talk to you.”
“Stay with him,” Mitchell said. “That’s where you need to be.”
I got into the ambulance following Moose; before I could get settled, the driver took off down the road like a maniac. We’d pick up my grandfather’s truck later once the emergency was over.
Moose had an oxygen tube in his nose, and he looked a little pale to me as he lay there strapped to the gurney.
I nearly lost it when he sat up.
“That was close,” my grandfather said as he removed the tube from his nose. He patted the EMS attendant on the shoulder. “Good job, Charlie. I almost thought for a second there that I really was having a heart attack.”
“Overall, you seem healthy enough to me, but your blood pressure is a little bit high. You might want to get that checked out.” He tapped on the driver’s seat. “You can slow down now, Ben. Moose is going to be okay.”
“Are you sure?” the younger tech asked. “He still looks a little ashen to me.”
“That’s more from your driving than because of his physical condition,” Charlie said with a laugh.
Ben slowed down, and as the ambulance neared the dine
r, he pulled over to the side of the road.
“I owe you both a meal on the house,” Moose said. “Do you have time to collect it now?”
“As a matter of fact, we were just getting ready to go on our lunch break,” Charlie said. “I assume you had your own reasons for the impromptu chauffeur service.”
“It’s nothing that I can really talk about, but trust me when I tell you that it was important. Now, come on in and let’s get you two fed.”
“Ben, you wouldn’t mind parking your rig down the street a little, would you?” I asked.
He smiled at me. “I get it. You don’t want an ambulance parked in front of your diner, do you?”
“Do you mind?” I asked him.
“No, I completely understand. Why don’t you and your grandfather go on and get out, and we’ll park somewhere else. See you in a few.”
“Thanks again,” Moose said.
After we got out of the ambulance, they drove up the street, and I turned to my grandfather before we went inside. “I’ve got to admit that was fast thinking on your part. You really saved my bacon in there. What were you going to do if you didn’t know the EMTs?”
“Why, then, I would have had a false alarm by the time we got to the hospital. Victoria, I had to get you out of there, and I didn’t know what else I could do.”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong; I’m not scolding you. I think it was brilliant, and I’ll praise you more once I get over the little heart attack of my own that you just gave me. Seeing you sprawled out on that porch is something that’s going to haunt me for years.”
“Don’t worry. I’m in no rush to leave you, or Martha,” he said with a grin. “I’m sorry that I scared you, and especially since it was all in vain.”
“But it wasn’t,” I told him. “You’ll never believe what I found upstairs.”
“Tell me,” he said.
“He’s got a photo collage of Ellen’s life in there,” I said.
“How many pictures are we talking about?” Moose asked.
“Hundreds,” I said.
“Then I’m going to call the sheriff.”
“Moose, he can’t just barge in there like we did. He needs a warrant.”
“Then he’ll get one,” Moose said. “Victoria, that was too close a call. If Mitchell had caught you up there snooping around in his closet, I don’t want to even think about what might have happened.”
“We don’t have to,” I said as I patted his hand. “Let me call the sheriff.” As the EMTs approached on foot, I added, “Set them up inside while I take care of this.”
He nodded, and the three of them went into The Charming Moose, all of them as thick as thieves. It appeared that Moose had made a new friend in Ben. How did the man do it? He could go to a house fire and come back with a firefighter as his new buddy.
I got the sheriff on the line, and I was happy when he picked up on the second ring.
“How’s Moose doing?” was the first thing he asked me, before I could get a single word out.
“He’s fine. Why do you ask?”
“I heard about his heart attack over the radio,” the sheriff said. “I’m on my way to the hospital right now, so just hold tight.”
I was touched by the sheriff’s reaction, but I had to stop him before he compounded the misconception that Moose was in trouble. “He’s okay. It was all just a ploy.”
Sheriff Croft clearly didn’t like my explanation. “Explain yourself.”
“We were at Mitchell Cobb’s place. Before you yell at me, it’s important to know that the door was unlocked when we got there.”
“That doesn’t excuse you both trespassing,” the sheriff said.
“Slap my wrist later, okay? The man’s got an upstairs closet with more pictures of Ellen than anybody should rightfully have. He’s obsessed with her.”
“What do you propose I do about it?” the sheriff asked. “I can’t break in without losing my job and going to jail. You aren’t immune from arrest, too; you know that, don’t you?”
“Go to his house, and ask him if you can look around. You’re a persuasive guy. You can do it.”
“Why should I?” he asked.
“Listen, I understand that you’re upset with Moose and me, but you can’t let that get in the way of catching a killer.”
“He doesn’t have to let me in. You know that, don’t you?”
“Can it hurt to ask?” I questioned him.
“I suppose not. I’m nearly there anyway. Sit tight. I’ll get back to you.”
After we hung up, I went inside and waited for his call. Moose was regaling the entire diner with his close brush with death, clearly enjoying every moment of it. Only Martha was frowning in his direction. I joined her at the register.
“He’ll turn anything into a story, won’t he?” I asked.
“I had hoped that he’d outgrow it someday, but it appears that those wishes were all in vain.”
“You’ve got to love him,” I said. “He drives me crazy sometimes. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed it all of these years.”
“Patience, prayer, and perseverance,” she said. Martha patted my hand as she looked into my eyes. “Did he give you an awful fright?”
“There’s no denying it, but he also might have saved my life. Take it easy on him, okay?”
“I’m not making any promises,” she said with a grin, and I knew that they were going to be all right.
My phone rang, and I stepped back outside to take the call. It had been fifteen minutes, barely enough time for the sheriff to search Mitchell’s house, and I felt my spirits sag. “Hello?”
“It’s Croft. Nothing.”
“Sorry he wouldn’t let you search his place. Can’t you get a warrant or something?”
“You misunderstood. He let me look around all I wanted. The upstairs closet was clean.”
“That’s not possible,” I said angrily. “I’m telling you, it was covered with pictures of Ellen.”
“Well, they’re gone now. He must have realized what you two were after, so he got rid of the evidence.”
“Hang on,” I said. “I took some pictures. Let me send them to you, and then call me back, okay?”
“Fine. I’ll be waiting for them.”
After we hung up, I opened my phone, checked the camera, and pulled up the two shots I’d taken. It had been minimal light in there, and one of the shots hadn’t turned out at all, but at least one of them showed a highlighted portion of the collage. I sent it to the sheriff, and then I waited for his return call.
I didn’t have long to wait.
“There’s no way that I can tell where that photograph was taken,” he said with no preamble at all.
“I took it in Mitchell’s upstairs closet. That has to count for something.”
“We’ll look at him harder than we have been,” Sheriff Croft said, “but as evidence, it’s less than worthless.”
“Even with my testimony about where I found it?” I asked.
“It’s too soon to be talking about you testifying,” he said. “We have to get a lot more on the man than that.”
“You’re going to at least try, though, aren’t you?”
“We’ll do what we can, but I can’t promise you miracles, and you should know better than to ask for them. You know how this business works, Victoria.”
I was disappointed with the results, but he was right. There was nothing I could about it at the moment. “Thanks for trying,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Listen, maybe I’ll go back and lean on him a little harder this time.”
“That would be great,” I said.
“Oh, while I have you on the phone, it turns out that Crazy Betty watched Ellen and Wayne the entire time that they were picnicking. She said that they made such a cute couple that she couldn’t stop watching them. Tell Ellen that as far as I’m concerned, she’s in the clear, and if you see Wayne before I do, you can tell him, too.”
“Thank you. They’ll both
be relieved,” I said. “What happens now?”
“What do you think? We keep digging,” the sheriff said, and then he hung up.
He wasn’t the only one with a shovel, though.
Moose and I were going to continue to dig as well.
Maybe somebody would find a way to figure out how to prove that Mitchell had been the one to eliminate the competition for Ellen’s affection, both past and present.
That’s when it hit me. If Mitchell had indeed gotten rid of Gordon for his past sins, wouldn’t Wayne be the next logical victim?
I called his shop, but he wasn’t there.
I didn’t have time to tell anyone where I was going. I had to warn our friend before Mitchell decided to take everyone else who mattered out of Ellen’s life.
Moose was still embellishing his story, clearly enjoying every moment of it, so I left him in the diner while I ran out to find Wayne and warn him.
As I was driving to the shop, my phone rang.
It was the sheriff. “I just wanted you to know that Mitchell was gone when I came back over here to talk to him again.”
“That’s not all that odd, is it?” I asked. “He’s probably around somewhere.”
“That’s the thing. The door was unlocked and standing ajar, just like you said it was, so I checked it out. All of his personal stuff is gone. It couldn’t have filled more than a suitcase in the first place, but there’s nothing of his left at the house.”
I felt my gut twist thinking that the killer might have gotten away when we’d been so close to nabbing him. “What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find him. This is something the police are built for.”
“I just hope that you catch him before anyone else gets hurt.”
“We’ll do our best,” he said.
So then, Mitchell was on the run. Did that make him guilty, or just paranoid? Then again, why couldn’t it be both? Either way, I hoped that the man turned up again soon.
“Is Wayne here?” I asked one of his mechanics as I hurried into the repair shop.
“No, he’s out getting a part for me,” the man said. “He’ll be back in ten minutes, though, if you want to stick around.”
