“Mmm hmm. Now tell me how you’re feeling.”
“Still not hungry.”
“Stop it with the jokes, Ava. Someone tried to kill you today, and I know that can be an unsettling experience.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The term unsettling experience got to me in a way that made something distinctly un-funny suddenly seem funny. And I kept laughing.
There is no doubt about it, Oliver is a patient man. When I finally started to get a grip on my emotions, he leaned across the table and took my hand in both of his.
“You’re going to go through this period of feeling unstable, and you’re not going to know when the emotions will hit you. It might be like this, uncontrolled laughter, or next time you might cry. Just go with it, and let it out.”
“I think I’ll be fine now,” I said, taking a steadying breath. “I don’t know why that struck me as funny.”
“Because you went through a life-or-death situation today, and your world tilted a little. You’ll have an episode or two like this again. Feel free to call me if you have trouble dealing with any of this.”
If anyone knew about life-or-death stuff, it was Oliver, but I didn’t want to discuss that right now. We had other matters we needed to talk about.
“So what do you know about Linwood?” I asked. “Does he really have Alzheimer’s?”
Oliver leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Alzheimer’s diagnoses are difficult, and there are lots of different types of dementias that he might have. But yes, his wife told us that he’d been acting strange for the past six months or so, and she knew he killed Ethel.”
I sat up straight. “She knew? She didn’t say anything?”
“Did you want her to tell everyone her husband did it?”
“Yes,” I said. “What if he’d killed someone else? Doesn’t that make her some sort of accessory?”
Oliver nodded. “It does, but I’m going to let the lawyers untangle that whole mess. This will probably never reach court, you know.”
I’d surmised as much, but hearing Oliver say it made me sad. “But Ethel didn’t deserve to die like that. She didn’t deserve to be murdered for no reason and not have someone pay for that crime.”
“I know, but I think that you have made up for some of her ignoble death.”
“What do you mean?”
“You took the time to try to help, to try to find her killer. You cared enough to do something,” Oliver said.
He was right, but only sort of. I’d cared because of my family and because I didn’t want to see my brother get hurt. And a little bit because I wanted a new career.
Oliver reached across the table and grabbed hold of my hand again. “I know you’re telling yourself you only did this for your brother, but give yourself some credit. You stepped in when nobody else wanted to, and you did something for a woman most people claimed not to like.”
“Why did someone try to stop me?”
“Do you mean the letter?” he asked. When I nodded, he took a breath before speaking. “Apparently Linwood’s wife was concerned about your discovering the truth. She admitted to us that she sent you the letter.”
A moment later I realized what that meant. It meant she thought I was smart enough to figure out the case. It meant I might have the makings of a detective after all.
“This doesn’t mean you’re a good detective,” Oliver said.
“How do you do that?”
Oliver shrugged. “I can read you. You have a very expressive face.”
“Great. Anyway, why are we here? Did you need to talk to me about something?”
“Yes, I just need you to go over your statement one more time and sign it.”
“Why?”
Oliver sighed and put his fingers in the bridge of his nose. “Because it’s what I need you to do. Review your statement. Sign it.”
“Okay, fine, I was just asking.” Yeeesh, you’d think I asked him something difficult.
We reviewed what happened, with him asking me the same questions he’d asked earlier. This time he gave me a funny look when I told him what had happened in the bedroom, but my lips were sealed. No way was I telling him I saw a ghost. He pulled a written copy of my statement out of a folder, and I signed it, happy to be finished with this whole thing. By that time our food had arrived, and I was grateful for some good pizza to focus on, despite my earlier claim of not being hungry. There’s nothing like a veggie combination to make the world better.
“I don’t know how you can eat that,” Oliver said, biting into his pizza.
“That stuff you’re eating is going to give you a heart attack. Cram much meat on your pizza?” He had ordered the meat lovers special with pepperoni, sausage, meatballs and God knew what else.
“Should I start eating that organic stuff your friend makes?” he asked, winking at me.
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about Debbee and her organic yuck. I shuddered. “I know it’s mean of me to say this, but that stuff has got to be gross.”
“Why is it mean?” Oliver asked around a mouthful of pizza.
“Because my mother taught me that if I didn’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all, and I really don’t have anything nice to say about that place. If people saw how she lived, I’m sure her sales would plummet.”
Oliver stared into space for a moment. “I’m sure the health department has inspected the premises.”
“Mmm,” I said, more because my mouth was full than because I had anything useful to add. I was sure they had, as well, but she was probably one of those people who made everything perfect before the inspection so the officials never really knew that she lived in a pit.
We finished our pizza and talked a bit, mostly about the differences between living in the northeast and the southwest. Oliver was funny and interesting to talk to, and he was good company, but I missed Stanley.
On the sidewalk outside, Oliver looked down at me and smiled. “Miss your boyfriend, don’t you?”
I laughed. “I guess I am that easy to read.”
Oliver gave me a hug. “Go home, call Stanley, get some rest. It’s over now, and you don’t have to worry about a murderer loose in your town.”
I shook my head. “I know you’re right, but I’m not sure it’s over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think there’s something still going on. Remember earlier, all those people at the house claimed to see things. I have to tell you, that was weird.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Oliver said. “Sometimes people see what they want to see, or they get carried away with a crowd mentality. There’s a whole science to that. These things fade with time, and people forget about them.”
I knew he was probably right, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than his simple explanation.
Chapter Forty-Two
I drove home with Sparky, happy for Charlie and Fred but still uncertain about where I stood with Stanley. As if I had conjured him simply by thinking about him, there he was on my front porch, surrounded by the aunts. He stood when he saw me approaching. “They interrupted the town council meeting to tell me what had happened. Are you okay?” Without waiting for an answer, he came down the porch steps and wrapped me in his embrace. “I was worried.”
With my face pressed against his chest, I wrapped my arms around him. I could hear Sparky’s tail thumping against the ground as he wagged it, sniffing around our feet. This was where I needed to be.
“I’m fine,” I said. “It was a little scary, but I’m not hurt or anything.” By this time my aunts had gathered around me, as well, and I was enveloped in family love. “Come inside, we’ll get you something to eat,” Aunt Maria said.
“I’m fine, I just had pizza,” I told them. Looking up at Stanley, I added, “With Oliver.” If there was going to be anything of real substance between Stanley and me, we needed to communicate and agree on th
ings.
Stanley hung his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I was so worried about your safety that I got a little carried away, especially since I didn’t have the whole background on Oliver.” He leaned over and gave Sparky a scratch behind the ears.
The whole background? This sounded like Stanley had some information to share. I wonder if he’s going to tell me what he knows or if he’s going to stay quiet. Stanley was discreet, which meant I wouldn’t always know everything that was going on in our town.
“We’re going to leave you kids alone to talk things out,” Aunt Estelle said. Maria, Claudia and Estelle turned and walked back up the steps, taking seats on the chairs scattered across the front porch. They were far enough away to give us privacy, yet close enough to keep an eye on me in case I needed help.
I stood quiet for a moment, listening to the birdsong around me, feeling warm and savoring the support and love of my family and boyfriend.
Yes, my boyfriend. In that moment I realized that Stanley and I could have something special if we chose to work on it. I had no doubt, though, that it would take some work for both of us since we shared a tendency to be a little, um, hardheaded.
“Listen, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, leaning his forehead against mine. “My family is having an anniversary dinner for my parents in a couple of months, and I was wondering if you’d come with me. That way you can meet everyone.”
This was big. Stanley’s family lived in Stonington, a small town about an hour’s drive up the Connecticut coast. It was a gorgeous little community and one I loved visiting, but not one that I’d normally jump in my car and drive off to. The fact that Stanley wanted me to meet his family was a significant step forward in our relationship.
“I’d love to,” I said. “Why don’t you go on in with my aunts? I’ve got to get my phone out of my car. I left it on the seat.” The only reason I remembered this was because I couldn’t wait to call Charlie and tell her. Maybe we were both finally getting lucky in the boyfriend department.
Stanley kissed the top of my head, and went up the stairs to sit with my aunts. I smiled and waved, giving them the one second signal to let them know I’d be right back.
A flash of gray appeared in my side vision, and before I could turn my head, the voice next to me hissed, “I’m here to take him back.”
For the second time in a twenty-four hour period, everything slowed. Sidewalk pebbles crunched beneath my feet as I turned to face my nemesis. Who else could it be but the one person I’d already decided was crazy, Debbee?
“What the heck are you talking about? Why are you sneaking up on me like that?” I demanded.
“You are not worthy of caring for an animal. You have put this young one’s life in jeopardy today, and you must give him back. I won’t have him mistreated.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Except I did know what she was talking about. The fool woman thought she was going to take Sparky back home with her.
A rage built inside me that I had never experienced before. The fact that this woman, this insane excuse for an animal lover, thought she was better equipped to raise my dog than me, sent me into a cold fury. Who the hell did she think she was?
Before I could say anything, Debbee saw Sparky on my porch and tried to move around me. I stepped in front of her, blocking her way, and before I realized it I had reached out and shoved her backward.
“That is my dog, and you are seriously close to trespassing. You can get the hell out of here, or I’ll call the police.” I’d had a rough day already, and this bitch didn’t intimidate me in the least.
“Mine,” she growled and moved to go around me again. When I tried to block her way, she darted back in the other direction. Grabbing her by the arm, I spun her around so she was facing me again. She stepped closer to me, her face turning a deep red and her voice an angry timbre.
“Puppies are not property, they’re children. The law is on my side with this,” she snarled, spittle flying in my face.
“You’re insane,” I said. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I have not in any way mistreated this dog.”
She lunged for me, and I tried to step out of the way, but something was in my way, and I tripped. Trying to stop myself from falling, I reached out and grabbed hold of Debbee, pulling her down with me. We landed on the sidewalk, and I realized it was Sparky that had been in the way. Apparently he wanted to join in the fun and games.
As soon as she saw Sparky, Debbee’s eyes lit up. “Come here, baby, come home with mommy,” she crooned. Sparky’s ears were flat against his head, and he lay down on the sidewalk, quivering.
“Stop that, you’re scaring him with your evil voice,” I snapped. “What is wrong with you?”
A shadow loomed above us, and hands reached down to help me up. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, and I will be notifying the authorities of this incident,” Stanley said.
Debbee got up and brushed herself off, looking Stanley up and down as if he were a fly on her fudge brownie. “And who the hell are you? The geek police?”
“No, I’m the mayor of this town, and while I am very familiar with you and your recent business of selling baked goods, I was not aware that you also had a license to sell animals. I do hope you are up to date on all of your business permits.”
Go, Stanley. The horrified look on Debbee’s face was priceless. “I don’t need a permit to sell a puppy,” she said.
“According to our new code laws, passed just last month, indeed you do,” Stanley said. “By the way, when was the last time the health department paid you a visit?”
With a snort and a stomp that made me wonder if she had some sort of equine blood in her, Debbee gave us one last venomous look and marched away.
Evil witch. I was shaking, fury pounding through my body.
Stanley draped an arm over my shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, not certain I could speak. Mixed in with my anger was the overwhelming urge to cry. I didn’t understand what was happening to me.
“I think you’ve had a rough day, let’s go inside,” he said with a kindness that almost undid me.
Climbing the steps to the porch, my aunts reached out to pat my back or squeeze my hand, showing me they loved me in any way they could.
“Come on, I don’t care how much pizza you’ve had, I think it’s time for dessert,” Aunt Maria said.
“That’s right, Estelle made a nice apple pie before we went out tonight, you come have some,” Aunt Claudia said.
“Where did you go?” I sniffed.
“To the new funeral home,” Maria said.
“What? Why? Who’s dead?” I asked, worried that I’d missed something important.
“Nobody’s dead,” Claudia answered. “We went to the open house to check things out. I heard they were going to have food and everything.”
I couldn’t think of what to say to that, so I kept my mouth shut. When did funeral homes start having open houses? I shook my head. It really had been a long day.
“Food will make you feel better,” Maria said, draping an arm across my shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”
Chapter Forty-Three
It had been only a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Nothing had changed, but everything was different. I was in a constant state of thankfulness for the gift of being alive, alternating with a constant state of vigilance, should Linwood escape the confines of his hospital prison and hunt me down. I was scared, and once in a while I even got mad.
It was such a short period of time, really, compared to my entire life, only minutes that I’d spent with Linwood up in Ethel’s bedroom. How could it have affected me in such a lasting and profound way?
Oliver told me that he’s seen this kind of thing before. People go through these life-or-death circumstances and come out the other side with a minimized version of PTSD. Maybe he was right, but I hoped the up and down fe
eling wouldn’t last. I had things to do.
Plus, I was trying hard not to think of that mist of gray. Really hard.
The temperature was rising, as it was the first day of April, but the rain had been relentless all night, creating a dark, dreary atmosphere. I must have been thinking about it all night, or maybe even dreaming about it, because when I woke up that morning I knew what I had to do.
I called Giuseppe at home. “Hey, I might be a little bit late today,” I said.
“You okay?” I’ll give him credit. He had been overly protective in the past forty-eight hours, constantly checking on me and making sure I was fine. Between my brother and Stanley I should have felt safer than a cow at a vegan convention.
“I’m going to visit Valerie,” I said.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Giuseppe asked.
“No, but thank you. This is just something I’ve got to do.”
I hoped that by visiting Valerie I could not only get some answers about this whole bizarre situation, but maybe I could find some peace, too.
“Why don’t you take one of the aunts with you?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Are you kidding? Which one of them would let us visit in peace without clocking that woman upside the head?” I knew my aunts were mad at Valerie, because I’d heard them calling her that woman and seen the scowls on their faces whenever they referred to her. I couldn’t blame them; after all, I harbored a bit of my own resentment toward her, but I knew that seeing her face-to-face would help me understand why she did what she did.
If she would see me, that is.
Frankly, I didn’t have the energy to have a door slammed in my face, so for once in my life I was practical. I called and asked if I could come over and visit.
She sounded nonchalant on the phone, as if it was every day that the woman she wrote a threatening note to, and whom her husband tried to kill, called her. I took extra precautions and let everyone know where I was going and made sure my cell phone was fully charged, just in case she tried to do the same thing as her husband.
Madness in Brewster Square Page 20
