by Ritter Ames
Kate wouldn’t have thought much of it—except she’d seen the woman’s phone. The message read, “You can’t hide.”
“WHAT DO YOU think it means?” Meg asked, as they sat later in the parent circle waiting for their kids. Kate had already retold what happened.
“I’m not sure, but she was really flustered,” Kate said. “I know she kind of seems naturally nervous, at least she was fidgety at her house after we got to talking about her living in Hazelton before. But she couldn’t get the phone away from me fast enough, and said she was just checking messages.”
“Some message.”
“I know.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and teachers began bringing kids out in groups.
“I’ll get out and walk up to make sure Ben’s teacher knows to let him go, too,” Meg said, letting in a blast of cold as she exited the passenger side of the van.
Kate creeped the van forward, following the long loop of cars. As she neared the load up point, Meg had all three kids waiting to leap aboard.
“Mom! It’s so cold out there, and so warm in here,” Sam shouted as she tumbled into the backseat.
“Yes, thank goodness the van’s heater can handle October weather in Vermont,” Kate said. “Everyone hurry inside.”
Ben was the last one in, and as he scrambled into the far rear seat, Meg slammed the rear door and opened hers to climb into the passenger side. “Brrr.”
“Got that right.” Kate put the vehicle into gear and pulled forward. “Hey, Suze, slide on over next to your sister so Mark can get in without having to crawl over you.”
“He can sit back here with me,” Ben called.
“Well, we’re almost there,” Kate said, turning into the loop for the upper elementary pick up point. “And I see Mark already waiting.”
“He’s going to be a popsicle,” Meg said, frowning. She leapt out again at the stop and hurried her older son into the van.
Mark dove into the spot between the two girls, and belted up. He took off his new glasses and wiped at the lenses with his nylon coat. “There’re all fogged up, and I can’t get them clean again.”
“Use your shirt,” Meg said, returning to the van. “I’ve told you not to try to use anything polyester or nylon.”
“I wouldn’t have this problem if you and dad would get me contacts.”
“A discussion for another time, young man,” Meg said. Kate looked over and lifted a questioning eyebrow. The redhead gave a tiny shrug.
Kate moved the van forward. “Well, time to head home to hot chocolate.”
After a unison of “yeses,” including one from Meg, Ben piped up again, “Can we drive through town on the way home and look at the decorated windows again?”
“Good idea. They’ll be coming down soon.”
Main Street of Hazelton found its own ways to involve its citizens and draw visitors to the town. Once the last of the autumn leaf tours left with the first snow, Hazelton readied for the Halloween season by letting the younger school kids compete in window wars with ghostly and ghoulie displays. The local children dreamed up fun designs for the shop windows then decorated with zeal, and a grand prize went to the winning team. Ice cream gift certificates were consolation prizes to the other participants. All the merchants signed on for the contest, and teams of elementary students decorated the windows with paint and paper.
“Look! There’s the library’s window my class worked on,” Samantha said.
A few windows down and it was Suzanne’s turn to point and shout out. “We did the window on the market.”
“My class did the hardware store,” Ben cried. “See, there’s the hammer I painted in brown on the glass.”
“Good thing you told us it was a hammer,” Mark teased. “Would have never recognized it otherwise.”
In the rearview mirror, Kate saw Ben lean forward and cuff his brother on the side of the head.
“Hey!” Mark yelled, twisting in his seat to try to reach back and hit his brother.
Kate looked to see why Meg wasn’t stopping the squabble and found her friend’s focus trained on a short, bundled-up person entering the hardware store.
“Stop here and let me out. You don’t have to park.” Meg unbuckled her belt, then leaned toward Kate and whispered, “It’s Linda Johnson. I’m going to do some sleuthing.”
Right then, Ben let out a cry for his mom, and Meg finally realized what was going on behind her. “Mark and Ben, if you don’t behave you’ll be going to your grandmother’s to pass out candy on Halloween. And that will be the extent of your festivities this year.”
“He started it,” Mark said, pointing over his shoulder toward his brother.
“He said a mean thing about my window,” Ben defended.
“I don’t care.” Meg opened her door and stepped out, leaning in again to add, “Kate is going to report exactly how you both act this afternoon. So you’d better be on your best behaviors.”
“Do we need to come back and pick you up?” Kate asked.
“I’ll find a ride, don’t worry. If nothing else, I’ll call Gil and have him stop for me on his way home.”
* * *
LATER IN THE evening, Gil picked up the boys and assured a worried Kate that Meg was safe and sound. Keith had to show off all the items in his utility belt—“Look, I have bat cuffs and a bat-a-rang to knock out bad guys”—then he headed for the radio station. Kate steered the girls upstairs to do a final costume organization for the next evening, in case she needed to do any last minute shopping or alterations. Sam’s hockey outfit with face mask was laid out and ready, and the twin was warned she couldn’t take her hockey stick to school. Suzanne, on the other hand, went uber-girly, deciding finally among the choices she’d been working through the week to wear a pink satin princess gown and tiara.
“And can I wear some makeup, Mommy?” she asked.
“No.”
“Just a little?”
Kate stared at her hopeful face, wondering when this mothering gig would ever get easy. “You can wear a little of my lip gloss, and I’ll brush your cheeks with blush. But no more.”
“Can I take the lip gloss with me? It will come off when I eat lunch, and I’ll need some for afterward.” Suze’s forehead crumpled in concern.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh thank you, Mom.” Suze hugged Kate around the waist.
“No promises.” Kate patted her daughter’s blonde curls, then glanced over at Sam sitting cross legged on her bed. When her tomboy twin realized she had her mother’s attention, she executed an exaggerated eye roll, then mouthed, “You’ve been played.”
Like I need you to tell me, Kate thought.
“You should at least go as a zombie princess,” Sam argued, flopping onto her pillow.
“No, that’s ugly,” Suze replied.
“So are you.”
“If I’m ugly then you are too. We’re identical, remember?”
“Girls, no name calling,” Kate warned.
“No one has any problem telling me apart from you,” Sam said, ignoring her mother.
“That’s because you have no style,” Suze countered.
“Do too. I have my own style.” Sam threw her pillow. Suze dove toward the heart shaped pillows on her bed.
“Girls! Stop, now!” Kate blocked one soft projectile in mid-air and grabbed a second pillow from the floor. “No more arguing. No more fighting. Is everyone’s completed homework in your backpacks?”
“Yes, Mommy,” the girls said in unison.
“Then it’s bath time. Go.”
When the girls returned a short time later, smelling of the memory of soapy bubbles and giggling over some joke Sam told Suze, Kate put them to bed and read until their blue eyes looked more sleepy than awake. A round of goodnight night kisses preceded the lamp’s goodnight click. Kate pulled the door almost closed and headed downstairs. The cat met her at the bottom step, acting bored.
“Let me guess. Y
ou can’t find any of your catnip mice or squeaky play things?” She said. The cat walked to the sofa and gave a pitiful mew.
She had just found the last feathery toy, along with five others the cat had knocked under the heavy piece of furniture, when a knock sounded on the door.
“I know it’s late, but I wanted to fill you in on what I’ve learned,” Meg said, smiling as she held up a white bakery box. “And I have treats.”
“By all means, come in.” Kate hurried her inside and closed the door against the cold. She kicked away one of the cat toys that laid in the path to the kitchen. A streak of orange and gold tore down the hallway after the flying precious.
Meg set the box on the table. “I assumed you have milk. I bought these brownies from Saree after I finished my hardware store reconnaissance, and I’ve been dying to eat one ever since. But I can run home if—”
“Shh. Yes, I have milk, but the girls may not be asleep yet. And I don’t want to share,” Kate whispered, scooping up the box and placing the chocolate goodies in the microwave to warm. She pointed to the refrigerator. “Can you pour the glasses while I run up and double check the girls weren’t playing possum earlier? Besides being a selfish mother, I imagine we don’t need any big ears attached to little bodies listening in while we’re talking.”
“Sure, go check. I’ll have everything ready when you get back.”
Minutes later, the women sat across from one another at the table, and the brownies weren’t the only treat Meg served up. “I couldn’t get anything out of Linda when I pretended to run into her in the hardware store. But with so few customers, I was able to hang around the checkout and talk to Mr. Turner a bit after she drove away.”
“Did she buy anything?”
“Another lock. When I asked Mr. Turner, he said it was the third door lock she’s bought this week. Today’s was a heavy bolt lock, but she had a deadbolt on the front door when we went by there. So, why the second slide bolt?”
“Maybe the back door?”
“Remember, this was the third one she’d bought,” Meg reminded, taking a quick bite of brownie. “Mmm, so good.” She finished chewing, and continued, “He said she added extra window locks too. Came by and bought the locks and the tools she needed to install them.”
Kate broke off a piece of brownie. “I don’t remember seeing a security service sign in the yard. You’d think she’d have an account with one if she was concerned.”
“But why be so concerned about theft or break-ins in Hazelton?” Meg asked. “If she was so worried, it would make more sense to move somewhere else.”
“Maybe she’s used to worrying about her safety and just keeps it up wherever she lives. Remember, she did seem to have a Bronx accent.”
“True, and living in one of the New York boroughs is a lot different from small town Vermont.”
“So, we should just give her time, right?”
“Wrong.” Meg’s eyes shone in excitement. “I learned something else from Mr. Turner. One of those previous visits when was buying locks…her cellphone rang.”
“Another strange message?”
“Nope. She misspoke.” Meg stopped and sipped her milk, lengthening the pause.
Kate put up with it for a moment, then said, “Out with it Wonder Woman, or I’m taking away your golden lasso.”
Meg laughed. “Okay.” She leaned over the table and lowered her voice, “Mr. Turner heard her answer the phone saying, ‘This is Linda Jameson.’”
“He could have misunderstood.”
“Nope,” Meg said again. This time shaking her red curls for emphasis. “He said as soon as she said the wrong name she appeared startled, told the person she’d call back later, and shoved the phone into her coat pocket. Looked guilty.”
“So, is she in hiding and going by an assumed name?”
“My thinking exactly. I asked Gil to do a search on the name Linda Jameson and guess what he found?” She held up a hand. “No, you don’t want to guess, I know. I’ve been hanging out with my boys too much.” She grabbed another quick bite, then said, “Searching the name Linda Jameson in recent news stories produced a picture of a woman who looks a lot like our Linda Johnson, but with long blonde hair and wearing high dollar designer suits. The brunette pixie cut is a ruse. The Linda Jameson in the picture was the personal assistant to one Jim Donaldson, the on-the-run felon.”
“The name Donaldson sounds familiar.”
“It should. He’s the banker who disappeared after embezzling more than fifty-five million dollars. And in case you’d like to know how he stole the money, it was done by—”
“Computer transfer. The bank’s corporate system was hacked,” Kate finished.
“Bingo,” Meg said, lifting her half-full glass in a mock salute. “And guess who his little computer genius was.”
“Linda Jameson.”
“The one and only.”
Kate got up and walked to the kitchen desk, returning to the table with a pad and pen. As she started jotting down notes, she said, “So, are all the extra locks on her doors to keep the inside items safe—”
“Like the money,” Meg interrupted.
“Yes, though I doubt she’d have all of it there.” Kate jotted on a line and moved to the next one. “Or is she hiding from Donaldson? And if she did his hacking, why isn’t she in jail? Is she hiding from law enforcement?”
“She’s not on the run from the police—at least not as far as Gil could determine in the newspaper’s files. Just her boss is. Apparently, she had an alibi and the police couldn’t find any trace of her being in the system.”
“But if she pulled off the heist, wouldn’t she be good enough to cover her tracks?” Kate asked.
Meg shrugged. “From the way Gil tells it, there’s always some trace. At least there was something pointing to Donaldson’s guilt. So, if she’s not hiding the money, she has to be running from Donaldson. Right?”
“Agreed. It’s also a reasonable assumption he could be the one who sent her the text message. Especially if he thinks she could lead the cops to him.”
“Glad you mentioned the text, because it’s another thing bugging me.” Meg tapped a nail on the tabletop as she said, “If she’s a computer genius, why would she have a phone number someone could send her a threatening message to? Wouldn’t she change it for another number?”
“She could have already done that, but been found again.”
“Okay, but if the person knows her number, would it mean the same someone could pinpoint her location?”
“Maybe you’ve found the reason for her buying another door bolt today.” Kate kept scribbling. “Still, even if someone has her number, they may not be able to find her via the phone. I’m no expert, of course, but I remember watching a show several months ago about internet security. I didn’t understand half of it, but the gee-whizicists on the show were discussing ways people could have transmissions rerouted so the ISP addresses on their computers or devices looked like they were in an entirely different country.”
“With our little Linda a computer gee-whizicist herself, she might have the same capability with her phone’s GPS.”
Kate shrugged, then finished up her notes, tagging the info Meg provided with her own suppositions on the GPS angle. She looked up. “This really does sound promising. Is there anything else?”
“No.” Meg finished off her final bite of brownie, then swallowed the last of her milk. “Gil said he’d let me know if he learns anything else. I’ll ask him about hiding the GPS thing too.”
“You don’t think he’ll withhold information? You know, as a journalist kind of thing?”
“Marriage to me had better top any newspaper creed he swore allegiance to,” Meg said, her expression sporting her evil grin. “After fifteen years of marriage, my husband can’t help but telegraph when he’s trying to fool me about something. Don’t worry, he will tell me everything he learns. Or wish he had.”
* * *
THE NEXT EVENING, everyone
was ready early for Halloween. Batman and Superman were suited up, and hustling the kids to the van so they could be dropped off at Keith’s parents’ house to go trick-or-treating before the carnival. Kate and Meg were dressed and waiting for a scheduled call from Mrs. Dawson, then they would join their husbands at the carnival. Everyone had already laughed at Meg in her black wig and pale redheaded complexion.
She sniffed. “You’re all just jealous.”
As the guys and the kids filed out the front door, Kate said, “Leave the van in case your dad wants to drive it. I’m not sure all four kids can fit in his and Jane’s Buick.”
“Dad will solve any space problems, don’t worry,” Keith said, bending down to kiss her goodbye.
Kate pulled off his cowl. “Don’t drive in a mask. It’s dangerous.”
“Batman does it all the time,” Keith said and grinned. But he kept the dark cloth in his hand as he hurried to the van.
The phone rang, and ten minutes later the women were finished with business and ready for a night of fun.
“I need to run upstairs and put on my boots,” Kate said. “Then we can go.”
“Do you have anything up there I can use to hook this gold cord to my outfit?” Meg asked. “I don’t want to have to carry it all night. I guess I could leave it here, but—”
“He forgot his utility belt!”
“Huh?”
Kate pointed at Meg’s golden lasso. “You asking about the rope made me realize Keith wasn’t wearing his utility belt when he left. Come on upstairs and help me look for it, and I can probably find something to attach your lasso to your costume.”
The utility belt was on the bed, forgotten in the scramble to leave. Kate looped it around her own waist and let it ride low on her hips. “All his online searching for this thing, and then he forgets it. I swear men are really only eight-year-old boys who look grown up.”
“Agree.”
Kate grabbed a large safety pin from her nightstand drawer. “Can you loop one end of the lasso to hold it all coiled up? Then I think you could pin it using the loop.”
“Good idea. The lasso isn’t really heavy, just inconvenient.” Meg started to suit actions to words, while Kate added boots to her costume.
