Morning Glory Circle

by Pamela Grandstaff

  “I’ll let you know if I find out anything useful,” Scott said, then stood up and pointed through the open door.

  “I’ll be in touch,” she called as she sailed out, smirking.

  Scott sat back down, propped his elbows on the desk and held his head in his hands. The front door chimed and when he looked up his friend Ed was walking toward him, looking concerned.

  “Your head alright?” Ed asked.

  “Yeah,” Scott said. “It’s just Sarah.”

  “That woman scares me a little bit.”

  “She should,” Scott said. “Listen, I need a sounding board and I don’t want to be overheard. Care to take a walk with me?”

  “You got it. I need to share some information with you anyway.”

  The two men left the station, crossed the street, and headed up Peony Street toward Morning Glory Avenue. Scott told Ed about his morning spent interviewing people, and the less lurid details of the conversation with Sarah that followed.

  “You can imagine how reluctant I am to share with Sarah the specifics of the deal I made with Margie,” Scott said. “When I did all that, it was with the best interests of her mother at heart; I had no way of knowing I’d be investigating her murder a few weeks later.”

  “I wondered about that,” Ed said. “You know, not much goes on in this town that everyone doesn’t find out about. Are you afraid if you don’t tell Sarah someone else will?”

  “That’s just the thing. We went around doing these interviews and no one breathed a word about it. I’m touched by their loyalty, but it worries me how willing they are to be complicit in a cover up.”

  “No one was sorry to see Margie lose her job, and after they found out what she was doing to her mother she could not have found a sympathetic ear in this town. Everyone appreciates what you did for Enid, and I can’t imagine anyone would want you to get in trouble for doing it.”

  “I did what I thought was right, but it was not exactly legal or through official channels. After Margie’s body was found I should have told Sarah right away what happened, but by doing that I would have given her all the ammunition she needs to get me fired. She would love to have that kind of power over me. If the people of this town protect me by not telling what happened, that’s great for me, but what if a killer gets away with murder as a result?”

  “She just gave you carte blanche to investigate Margie’s murder,” Ed said. “So do that. Find out who killed her, arrest that person, and let the chips fall where they may. Then you will have done the right thing regardless of the outcome for you, personally.”

  “You’re right. I just need to figure out who did it and if I have to tell the truth about the deal I made with Margie I will. I may lose my job, you know.”

  “I know,” Ed said. “But that’s not the end of the world. We’d figure something out.”

  “You need another paper carrier?”

  “I’d fire Tommy tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” Scott said. “You said you had some information?”

  “Tony Delvecchio said his mother got a letter in the mail that upset her quite a bit. He thinks it was from Margie.”

  “I better go talk to her.”

  “He wants you to talk to him first, if you would.”

  “I can do that. Is he at work?”

  “No, he’s helping out in the PJ’s caravan down at the festival.”

  “I need to go down there, anyway,” Scott said. “I’ll see if I can talk to him.”

  “Listen,” Ed said. “I know something about Tony that I’ve been keeping in confidence. I don’t want to break that confidence if I don’t have to, but it may relate to this letter.”

  “Is it something illegal he’s done?”

  “No, it’s personal.”

  “Then keep it to yourself for now. I’m beginning to regret relaxing my policy about listening to gossip. I already know way more than I want to about most of the people in this town.”

  They parted ways at the top of the hill. Scott started back down toward the festival at the bottom of the hill, and Ed went to the library to look for a book about parenting adolescents.

  Maggie was taking a short break during a lull when she saw her brother Sean walking through the crowd toward the caravan. She jumped out the back of the caravan and flung herself straight into his arms.

  “Whoa!” he said, but picked her up and spun her around.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked after he sat her back down.

  “Well, you said you needed my help,” he said, “so here I am.”

  Once inside the cramped quarters, Sean met Tommy, took off his coat and tied an apron over his black pants and charcoal-colored sweater. With his thick dark hair, bright blue eyes, and tall, elegant figure, Maggie thought he looked more like a male model than a corporate attorney.

  “I’ve missed you at every turn this morning,” he said. “Everywhere I’ve been, you’d just been and left.”

  “Where?” Maggie said. “Did you see Mom and Dad?”

  “Yes,” he said, making himself at home, seated on a high stool. “I went to the house and you’d just left, then I went to the bakery and you’d just left, so I came down here.”

  “What did Dad and Grandpa do when you showed up?” she asked.

  “Well, Grandpa Tim cried, but it may be because I brought him a box of Cuban cigars, not knowing he’s been forbidden to smoke. Fitz took the bottle of Irish whiskey I brought him, said ‘don’t just stand there like an eejit, fetch us some glasses,’ and started pouring out shots, so it felt as if no time at all had passed.”

  “And Mom?”

  “Oh, she cried, Aunt Alice cried, and Mandy wondered who the hell I was until I introduced myself. Is she the one who’s sweet on Ed?”

  “Yes,” Maggie said, gesturing subtly with her head at Tommy, “and Tommy is her son.”

  “Ah, I see,” Sean nodded. “It’s fun to meet all these people you’ve been e-mailing me about.”

  Just then the caravan rocked back and forth, knocking Sean off his stool and some of the baked goods from the display. Patrick flung open the back door and stood with his hands on his hips, regarding his brother and sister.

  “In case you’ve forgotten, counselor,” he said to Sean. “The men in this family work in the bar and the gas station, and the womenfolk work in the bakery.”

  Maggie protested, but Sean took off his apron and followed Patrick to the Rose and Thorn caravan next door. Maggie and Tommy replaced all the plastic wrapped baked goods in their neat rows, and then leaned out so they could see what the two brothers were doing. Sean was tying on a pub apron while Patrick showed him how to run the cash register. Considering all that had happened in their family in the past, and all that had come to light recently, that had been as good a greeting between the two brothers as Maggie could have hoped for.

  “He looks like Patrick, but skinnier,” Tommy said.

  “Don’t let Patrick hear you say that.”

  “Why didn’t he ever visit before?”

  “He was really busy with his job,” Maggie said. “But I think he’ll be back more now.”

  “Do you think Brian will ever come back?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie said, although she devoutly hoped her oldest brother would stay away.

  That was one family reunion for which she didn’t have high hopes.

  Hannah returned to the caravan with a fresh load of baked goods and gossip. She had already forgotten she was mad at Maggie, having evened the score by staying away for two hours instead of one. She sent Tommy back to the bakery and shrugged off her coat.

  “The latest scuttlebutt,” she said, “is that Margie was stabbed in her hard little heart, rolled down yon hill behind ye olde tire store, and landed where I found her. She was covered with a four foot drift, so it must have happened Monday night or early Tuesday morning, before we got the big storm.”

  Both women turned their attention to some customers and then, as soon as they wal
ked away, Maggie said, “Go on.”

  “They found a cloth in the burn barrel behind the tire store that had been soaked in some chemical. When Frank smelled it he almost passed out. They think someone knocked her out with that and then stabbed her. They haven’t found a weapon.”

  “Sounds like chloroform. That’s an old murder mystery classic, but I bet it’s not easy to come by.”

  “It will be a few days before they have the toxicology report.”

  “So it was someone with access to medical supplies or a scientific lab of some sort.”

  Maggie mentally went through all the people she knew who were nurses or doctors. She didn’t know any scientists or lab technicians.

  “Hey Nancy Drew, I can see your mind computing,” Hannah said, “but do you want to hear the rest?”

  “Of course,” Maggie said.

  “Ruthie was with Margie’s mother when Scott told her the sad news, and Enid’s reaction was interesting. She was upset of course, but she was also irritated with Margie for being killed. She said something like, ‘I told her if she didn’t keep her nose out of everyone’s business it would get cut off some day.’”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes. Scott couldn’t get anymore out of her, but Ruthie thinks Enid might know more.”

  “I hope Ruthie keeps talking to her about it,” Maggie said.

  “She said she would let us know if Enid said anything else,” Hannah said.

  “We should go see her after all this is over,” Maggie said, gesturing to the festival.

  Hannah’s husband Sam rolled up just then.

  “I see you two putting your heads together and I know trouble will be sure to follow.”

  Maggie thought he looked tired.

  “How’s the mitten fishing?” she asked him.

  “I think I’ve fished my limit,” he said, and then turned to his wife. “Can we go now?”

  Hannah looked at Maggie, who nodded.

  “Go, leave me here, I don’t care,” Maggie said. “It’s only a few more hours.”

  Sean hailed Sam just then and Sam rolled over to the pub caravan to talk to him.

  “I could just run him home and be right back,” Hannah offered.

  “No ma’am,” Maggie said. “It’s a bakery policy that employees who find dead bodies get extra time off without pay.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Are you doing okay?” Maggie asked her.

  “Yeah, I think Sam’s more shook up than me,” Hannah said. “I feel kinda jumpy, but Sam’s a mess.”

  “Why is he so upset?”

  “He feels like he can’t protect me,” Hannah said, “and it makes him feel helpless.”

  “Uh oh,” Maggie said. “That’s not good.”

  “I just hope he snaps out of it. I don’t think I have the energy to deal with another deep funk right now.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  “No, but thanks. He’ll stick to me like a decal for a few days but growl every time I talk to him, and then some government agency will get hacked by space aliens and he’ll have to go back to work.”

  “Did you talk to Sean?”

  “Not yet. And look at your hunky brothers over there, drawing the woman to them like flies to honey. We need one in this caravan; hot men are good for business.”

  “I’m immune to it. I grew up sharing a bathroom with them, and all I remember is the farting and fighting.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” said Hannah, who had four older brothers of her own.

  “Do you think we can get in Margie’s house and look around?” Maggie asked as Hannah put on her coat.

  “We just need a key,” Hannah said, “and I know where we can get one.”

  Scott passed the Fitzpatrick Bakery caravan but saw Maggie was busy with customers, so he stopped to converse with Sean and Patrick instead.

  “Good to see you,” he said to Sean.

  Sean leaned out over the front counter and shook Scott’s hand.

  “I thought I better start doing my filial duty,” Sean said. “People were starting to think Patrick’s the only son in this family.”

  “The only working son, that’s for sure,” Patrick said. “Wearing a fancy suit and having meetings all day isn’t what I’d call honest labor.”

  “Ask Patrick if he’s heard any good lawyer jokes lately,” Sean said to Scott.

  “I’ve got a million of ‘em,” Patrick said.

  “And I’ve heard about half of them already today,” Sean said.

  Scott left them to their customers and walked on down to the PJ’s caravan, where Tony and his nephew were selling slices of pizza and calzones. Tony motioned to Scott to come around to the back of the caravan, and Scott met him at the back door. Tony jumped down and they walked back a few feet, where they could talk privately.

  “I heard about Margie,” Tony said, wiping his hands on his apron, which was spattered with pizza sauce.

  “Mmm hmm,” Scott said, and then was quiet.

  “My mom got a letter in the mail; I think she got it Wednesday but she just told me about it today. I think Margie may have sent it to her. She was pretty upset about it.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Pretty much what Margie was referring to the day she threatened me. Asked if my mother knew what I was doing with a certain person late at night.”

  “Was there a request for money to keep it quiet?”

  “No,” Tony said. “It sounds to me like Margie just wanted to make sure my mom knew this information, to hurt her.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear about this. I’m going to need to talk to your mother.”

  “I figured you would. I told her she has to tell you about it. She doesn’t want to but she will.”

  “Should I go to the house?”

  “She’s up at the community center right now,” Tony said. “Just do it outside, away from her friends, if you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t worry,” Scott said. “I will.”

  “Thanks,” Tony said. “Oh, by the way, that sheriff’s investigator came to talk to us, but we didn’t say anything about the deal you made with Margie.”

  “I appreciate your good intentions,” Scott said, “but I’m not asking anyone to lie for me. It may all have to come out.”

  “We don’t see it as lying for you,” Tony said. “You always do what’s right by the people in this town and we want to do what’s right by you.”

  “Thanks,” Scott said. “I appreciate the loyalty.”

  Up at the community center Antonia Delvecchio did not look glad to see Scott, but made a show of welcoming him into the kitchen, where a group of women were cooking and baking.

  “Please have some coffee,” she implored him. “Have some macaroons. I made them myself.”

  Scott couldn’t resist the offer, and soon found himself being plied with food from every direction. Afraid to offend anyone, Scott took a few bites of everything put in front of him. Several of the women took the opportunity to mention their unmarried daughters and extol their virtues.

  “Sherry made the lemon squares, Scott,” Mrs. Meyers said. “You wouldn’t believe how hard that girl works at the college, but she still makes time to sew and cook. She’s an old fashioned girl. I just wish she could meet the right boy.”

  “Men these days seem to go for flash over substance,” Mrs. Haddad said as she placed a plate of baklava before him. “My Julia is a beauty inside and out, but she doesn’t paint herself up and display all that God gave her just to hang out in bars, like some I could mention. She’s in town for the festival, Scott. You should stop by and see her. I know she’d love to see you.”

  Scott recognized that he was one of very few unattached men under the age of fifty in Rose Hill, so he was used to these pitches. He felt sorry for their daughters, though, who he knew would be mortified to hear their mothers say such things. They were nice women, all of them, but everyone knew his heart was spoken for
.

  As soon as he finished all the desserts he could manage, Antonia said loudly, “Scott, would you mind to take a look at the thermostat outside the cloakroom? I think it’s broken. I’ll show you.”

  Antonia Delvecchio held herself in an almost imperious manner, but she also had a powerfully sensuous quality that was impossible to ignore. She led Scott across the common room out into a cold hallway where everyone hung their coats, and Scott was disconcerted to notice the sway in her walk was incredibly sexy. As she turned to face him he noted her beautiful bone structure and Mediterranean complexion seemed also to have defied the aging process. Scott reflected that she must have been an amazingly attractive woman when she was younger, yet it had been the short, homely Sal who had won her heart.

  After checking to be sure no one was in either restroom nearby, Antonia spoke in a low voice.

  “Anthony told me I should tell you about the letter. Such lies! That witch, that Margie person; I knew she was a troublemaker. She was no good.”

  “Where is the letter?”

  “I burned it,” She said. “And I hope she burns in hell as well, may God forgive me.”

  With her emotions riled Antonia became a little more Italian, kind of like when Maggie’s father drank he became a lot more Irish.

  “What did the letter say?” Scott asked her.

  “It was all lies about my Anthony. He was seen with someone late at night, so they must be lovers; that my heart must be broken to have a son such as this. I love all my sons, Scott, but Anthony, he is the closest to my heart, capiche? Of course you do. You’re close to your mother as well. My Anthony and I have such a close relationship, I would know if something like this was true, and it’s not. He’s the only one who has not married, this is true. But he is so special, and there has just not been the right woman for him. That’s all it is. Anything else is just lies and evil thoughts from this person, this jealous Margie. I know she’s dead and I must not speak ill of the dead, but anyone who would do such a thing, well…she doesn’t deserve to live among decent people.”