by Dee Ernst
“So, what’s the theory?” I asked.
Sam sipped more coffee. “Todd met someone, possibly someone involved with his drug, ah situation, behind the Martin house. We have convincing evidence. Obviously, whoever did this wanted the body to be found sooner, rather than later. Although the porch is fairly screened from the street by the shrubs, if the body had been left in the back, it could have stayed there, undiscovered, much longer.”
“Which says what about the killer?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “The killer may have wanted to send a message. Although, drug enforcers don’t usually hit people with a blunt instrument.” He glanced at Tessa, who was sitting, wide eyed, and drinking in every word.
“Well,” I said brightly, “I think that wraps up today’s briefing. Tessa, love, finish the table and get to your homework, okay?”
She looked at me, suddenly remembered that I was The Parent, rolled her eyes, and then slowly, painfully, and with obvious reluctance, picked up three forks and a paper napkin and walked into the kitchen.
Sam brought his coffee into the living room, and we sat together very companionably in silence for a bit, until Tessa and Cait both went upstairs.
He smiled. “So, you’re really not snooping around?”
“No. I’m not.” I was having Cait, Carol, Shelly, and as soon as I made the phone call, Vivian Brewster do the snooping around for me.
“This is a tricky one. Doug had the motive, but since he couldn’t be killing his brother and driving across Route 80 at the same time, he’s off the list.”
“Motive?”
“It would appear that Todd siphoned off money from their business account. Lots of money. That’s always a motive.”
“But they were brothers.”
“People are rarely killed by strangers, Ellie. It’s hard to work up the passion, or hate, needed to murder someone, let alone someone you barely know.”
“Can I pass this on to Mary Rose? She’s been calling me and texting me, grabbing me in the street, sending smoke signals…”
He laughed. “Yes. Of course.” He looked thoughtful. “Did she ever talk to you about her brother and his new family?”
I shook my head. “No. Why?”
“Steve Wyzinski is a very cool customer. He didn’t seem broken up at all about Todd’s death.”
“I imagine it’s hard to form a relationship with adult stepkids.”
“Possibly. Am I really practically part of the family?”
“Well, I’m thinking that if you can crack a hard nut like Tessa, you’re in.”
“How nice,” he said, kissing me lightly on the lips.
How nice indeed.
The next morning, after walking around the lake, I dropped Boot back at the house, and Shelly, Carol, and I walked down Davis Street to look at Aggie Martin’s house.
There was still yellow tape everywhere. The sky was gray, and the wind was kicking up leaves, and the once perky little Victorian looked sad and lonely.
“Let me get Emma,” Carol said, and walked past the walled garden.
Shelly and I went up Aggie’s driveway. Sure enough, in the back corner of the tiny yard, there was more crime scene tape.
“So, maybe Todd just wanted to use his cell in private, came around here, and the killer, what, waited for him? Followed him?” Shelly got closer to the corner and leaned in. “Whoever it was could have been hanging out right behind Emma’s fence here, and when Todd came around, jumped out and hit him.”
There was a thick hedge of some sort of evergreen between Aggie’s yard and whoever lived behind it. I peered through. “Do you know who lives there?”
She shook her head. “No. They’re new, and the kids are younger. Carol would know. Or Emma.”
Dale and Martin lived on the other side of Aggie’s. I didn’t know them at all, not even their last names. They’d moved in two years ago and had no children. They kept to themselves except on Founders’ Day weekend, when they cruised the neighborhood in search of free food and drink.
Emma and Carol came around the corner. Poor Emma, she looked a fright, her hair long and windblown, with a fringed shawl wrapped around her stout body.
“Wait,” she said shrilly, stopping cold and holding out one hand, as though to ward off a blow. “There is evil here.”
Shelly and I exchanged glances, but Carol leaned in, looking concerned. We waited for several seconds. Emma took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sway back and forth.
“Emma?” Carol asked.
“Wait. Wait.” Emma said.
We waited. Emma McLaren was Mt. Abrams own self-proclaimed witch. She was a lovely woman who made herbal potions and could read your palm, but at times I found her connection to the spirit world very tenuous.
She opened her eyes. “He died here.”
Carol nodded patiently. “Yes. We know that.”
Emma frowned and looked around. “He was meeting someone else.”
I had explained carefully to Shelly that I was not going to actively involve myself in trying to solve Todd’s murder, and that I was counting on her to pick up the slack. I nudged her.
She looked surprised, thought a moment, then asked. “Who was he expecting?”
Good job, Shelly.
Emma was still frowning. “A dark man. A bad man.”
Shelly ran her hands through her short hair. “Well, Emma. That’s who he met, isn’t it? A good man wouldn’t have killed him.”
Emma looked slightly put out. “Good people do bad things all the time, Shelly. He was desperate. He was worried about his mother.”
“Todd?” Carol asked.
“Who else?” I said. “Although, the killer could have been worried about his mother.”
“So maybe Todd was worried about his mother, and that caused him to do something that got him killed?” Carol tried valiantly to get Emma more focused.
Emma shook her head. “I don’t know. But there was a problem between Todd and his stepfather. A big problem.”
Carol looked over at me, eyebrows raised. “Steve Wyzinski? Mary Rose’s brother?”
I shrugged.
Emma sniffed. “Bad blood. Very bad blood.”
Shelly sighed. “Time to talk to Mary Rose.”
Carol stayed back with Emma as Shelly and I walked on. I rattled off a bunch of ideas and questions for Shelly to ask Mary Rose, and Shelly listened intently, then shook her head.
“Forget it, Ellie. Mary Rose wanted you, not me. She’s not going to pay attention to anything I say.”
“True. But try, okay? Once she gets going, it’ll be easy.” I took a deep breath as I knocked on the door.
Normally, Mary Rose is not necessarily happy to see me, but when she opened her door, she actually threw her arms around me.
“Oh Ellie, thank God you’re here. Come in. Have you heard anything?”
I disengaged and glanced over at Shelly, who was trying very hard not to laugh out loud. “Yes, I have some news, Mary Rose.”
She ushered us in, past her immaculate living room and back to her kitchen, which, like the rest of her home, had been meticulously decorated in the 1980s and not touched since. We sat around her maple table, on captain’s chairs.
Shelly, I could tell, was still struggling with the outburst of affection that had greeted me at Mary Rose’s door, so I immediately got serious.
“Mary Rose, I’ve spoken to Sam, and it looks like your nephew has a good alibi.”
“He’s not my nephew,” she said. “But, thank you. The police haven’t been very forthcoming with information.”
Hmmm. Saturday night she was devastated by Todd’s death, and today Doug’s not her nephew? Shelly picked up on that quickly.
“Mary Rose,” she asked, “how long have Steve and Kim been married?”
“Four years. We were very excited, of course. Steve’s wife had passed over years before, and we were thrilled that he’d found someone. Especially someone with children, even if they were grown.
We couldn’t have any, you know.”
Mary Rose was married, but Joe was never around, and when he was, he faded into the background and didn’t say a word. So when she said “we,” I had to remind myself that she wasn’t using the royal we.
Shelly made encouraging noises, which was all Mary Rose needed. “Todd was always a problem. Drugs. And Doug was such a lovely, talented boy. Have you heard him sing?” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Doug is very loyal. He won’t even admit that Todd is dragging him down and ruining the business.” She stopped and closed her eyes. “Was. Todd was.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “He stole from their company, he stole from his mother, and he tried to steal from Steve. But Steve wasn’t having it. In fact, he told Kim that if Todd stayed, he was going.”
I was trying to process two things. First, did that give Steve a motive? And second, why was she whispering? Who else was there? I glanced around. Nope, no one.
Shelly whispered back. “Really?”
Mary Rose nodded. “He’d already left her once. He was serious.”
I couldn’t help it. “Why are we whispering?”
Mary Rose straightened and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m sorry for what happened to Todd, but I’m certain that Kim is the only person truly sorry to see him gone. Her, and all the drug dealers who depended on him.”
Shelly and I exchanged glances. Back to drug dealers again. Or maybe not.
“Mary Rose,” I asked, “what was Kim’s reaction to Steve’s ultimatum?”
She shrugged. “She was going to choose her son, of course.”
“Steve must have been pretty angry about that,” I said.
The penny dropped. She glared at me. “What are you suggesting, Ellie?”
“When did Steve and Kim get here Saturday night?”
She patted her permed hair, a bit nervously. “Early. Before five. The two of them walked around for a bit. Kim wanted to watch Todd, so Steve came back here a little earlier, and when Kim got back, we had supper.”
“Was Steve here the whole time?” I asked.
“Of course,” she snapped. Then she dropped her eyes. “Well, no. After supper, he walked up to Emma’s. To see if Todd needed help.”
Shelly leaned forward again and dropped her voice. “And?”
Mary Rose stood up abruptly. “I think you should go now.”
Shelly and I stood up and walked to the front door. Mary Rose was not behind us. I turned and saw her, still standing at her kitchen table, staring down at her hands.
Shelly and I let ourselves out.
Chapter 5
My mother had been in an assisted living facility for so long now that I’d almost forgotten she had raised my brother and I in a brick ranch on a sunny suburban street, within walking distance of the elementary school. But she hadn’t forgotten, even though she sometimes didn’t remember that I was her daughter, and she kept asking, everyone and anyone, for a ride home.
She was sitting in the group living room, playing canasta with four other women. I knew she had trouble with numbers, but with those cards in her hands, she was still sharp as a whip. I watched them all for a few minutes, before I approached and said a general hello. They all said hello back. After all, I knew them, and they all knew me. Or at least knew my face.
Mom looked up immediately and smiled broadly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
My heart jumped. “Really? How nice. How’ve you been?”
“Just fine, but you know you promised to take me to Dogwood Lane today. I’m going home, isn’t it wonderful?”
My heart stopped its jumping. No, she didn’t recognize me after all. I was just the driver.
“I don’t think that was today,” I said.
The ladies continued to play. When my mother’s turn came, she pounced on the center pile, shuffled though all the cards, and put out three four-of-a-kind and a five-of-a-kind, a red three and a natural canasta.
“There.” She said triumphantly, discarding a black three, leaving her hands empty. “I think I’ve won!”
A tiny redhead with lots of green eye shadow swore very loudly. She had just had her eighty-fifth birthday, but still talked like an obnoxious teenaged boy. “Leona, I’d swear you were cheating, but I know you can’t remember how.”
Mom waggled her finger. “I don’t need to cheat. I’m a natural.” She looked up at me. “I still have to pack. Can you help me?”
I smiled brightly. “Do you have your pass?”
Mom frowned. “What pass?”
The redhead, Connie, glanced up at me. “Leona, the pass from the director. You know you need one to leave.”
Peggy, blind in one eye, was the scorekeeper. She was slowly counting cards and writing down numbers in a loopy scrawl. “Can’t leave without it, Leona. You know that.”
Mom sat back, her lower lip pushed out. “I forgot.”
“That’s okay,” I said, still smiling. “Maybe we can have lunch instead.”
“Winner pays,” Connie cracked. “You remember that, don’t you?”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Yes, Connie, of course I remember. Winner always pays. I just can’t believe I forgot about that blasted pass. This means I have to wait another whole week.” She looked up at me. “You do come every week, don’t you?”
Connie cackled, pushing her hair off her forehead with tiny, claw-like hands. “Course she does. She’s a good girl.”
My mother sighed. “I guess I can wait.”
She was still beautiful, my mother, her hair thick and wavy around her face, her skin still glowing softly, her dark eyes bright. Lately, she’d been complaining about a sore back and was getting a massage a few times a week. I envied her at times, caught in a world where the days were spent playing cards and imagining a younger, brighter life. Not to mention massages and good food and whirlpool baths.
“So, lunch?”
She nodded. We were early in the dining room, and chose a table for four, a tacit invitation for others to join us. Mom and I had little to talk about these days. She no longer knew my daughters. In her mind, she was the one with children to raise, in a little brick house on Dogwood Lane. Sure enough, Connie sat with us, and the two of them talked about growing up in Newark, taking the train to New York for a nickel, living only ten blocks away from each other in a quiet Italian neighborhood. I listened, imaging her young and lovely, not owning a pair of stockings until she was twenty and World War Two had been over for years.
Then I kissed her good-bye. She clung tightly to my hand.
“You won’t forget next week? You promise?”
I patted her hand. “Of course I promise.”
Then I drove home.
Caitlyn had kept her part-time job as a waitress in a very lovely and expensive French restaurant, because the money she made there in tips was almost as much as her full-time teaching job. Friday nights she was usually at work, and if she wasn’t working, she was with Kyle, so I was a little surprised when she announced she was staying home.
I looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Is everything okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Kyle is coming over. With Jonah.”
“Who’s Jonah?”
“A dealer that Todd owed money to.”
I had to think about that one. No, it couldn’t be. “Drug dealer? You’ve invited a drug dealer to my house?”
She didn’t look the least bit phased. “Yes. He wanted to talk in some bar in Dover, but you told me not to do anything dangerous, so I asked him to come here.”
“Are you crazy?” My voice got a little higher. I may have been screaming. “A drug dealer?”
“Mom, calm down. It’s fine. Doug knows him. Kyle too.”
“Kyle? Kyle deals drugs?” My mind was going way too fast for my mouth. I found it impossible to put all of my feelings into sentences. “Kyle? Drugs?”
She patted my hand. “Mom. Kyle smokes pot. So do I. So, I seem to recall, do you.”
“That was a
long time ago. Now, it makes me hungry, then puts me to sleep. That’s beside the point.”
“Jonah is not a scary kind of dealer. He’s sort of the ice cream man of the local drug trade. Drives around with some fun stuff, takes cash, has his regulars. But he knew Todd really well, and knew who else Todd was working with. He could help us narrow down a killer.”
Tessa, thankfully, was with Marc. He was taking her to spend the weekend in the Poconos at his brother’s family lake house. It was too cold for swimming or boating, not cold enough for skiing, but Tessa got along with her cousins and always had a good time. I’d been thinking about a romantic evening with Sam. Looked like that was off the table.
“Sam will be here at eight. Would he consider this Jonah person an ice cream man?”
Cait looked worried. “Can you call him? Have him come later?”
“How much later?”
“Like, after twelve?”
We’d been standing in the kitchen, but this was too much. I sank into a chair. “What time is Jonah coming?”
“Sometime between nine and ten. Maybe later.”
I was trying very hard not to show too much of how I was feeling. “You didn’t think, since it is my house, that you should have asked about this first?”
She shrank back a little. Maybe it was my clenched teeth. Or the heavy breathing. Or my face, which was probably beet red with steam coming out of my ears.
“Mom, it just happened really quickly. Doug is bringing him over, and this was the only time…I’m sorry.”
“Doug? He’s coming too?”
She nodded.
“It would be good to talk to Doug.”
She brightened. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“But I’m not supposed to be doing any of this, remember? You’re the one who’s supposed to be asking the questions, not me.”
“I know. So, if you want, you can just hang out at the top of the stairs and listen to us talking, and that way…” She arched her eyebrows. “You’re off the hook.”
“I don’t think,” I said slowly, “that Sam would consider me off the hook.”
“Maybe we could have Sam here, after all. Like, unofficially. So he can hear what Jonah has to say too. I’m sure we’ll get a whole lot more information out of him than Sam would.”
