Classic Revenge

by Mitzi Kelly

  "Millie," she yelled, "get back in your seat!"

  "Don't be silly. I'm halfway over." And she was, but the heel of her foot caught the rearview mirror, knocking it off balance as she crawled head-first into the backseat beside Edna.

  "Are you crazy?" Edna shouted as she reached up to pull Millie's legs over the seat.

  Trish hurriedly straightened her rearview mirror. Any minute they would be surrounded by the police. "If we live through this, Millie, I'm going to kill you!"

  "Right, another murder is just what we need." Millie sounded out of breath, but at least she was sitting upright now with her feet on the floor instead of pressed against the roof of the car.

  Trish glared at her reflection for a moment. "Your hair is messed up," she said tightly.

  "That's nothing," Millie said with a grimace as she reached under her shirt and rolled her shoulders back and forth. "You should see my bra."

  Edna looked at her incredulously. "What in the world did you do that for? You could have caused us to have a wreck!"

  "I just wanted to say I was sorry," Millie said mildly.

  Edna's mouth popped open and then closed. She peered closely at Millie sitting beside her. "You could have done that from the front seat."

  "Apologies need to be made face-to-face, not behind a head rest. Besides, I didn't think you'd believe I was serious. But I am. I was just teasing you, Edna" Millie turned slightly and reached for Edna's hand. "One thing I admire about you the most is that you always think of other people first what will make them feel better, what they might need, and you jump right in to fill that need. You're amazing. I was teasing you because I knew the proper thing to do was take something over with us. I wish I had thought about it," she said, smiling wryly. "Forgive me?"

  Edna stared at Millie for a moment. Then Edna reached over with her free hand and smoothed Millie's hair. "You are one crazy old lady," she said softly, "and I love you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry I was wearing my feelings on my sleeve. I guess all of this worrying about Sam is getting to me"

  Trish drove straight ahead with her eyes opened wide in shock, afraid she'd ruin the moment if she so much as tried to sneak a look in the mirror. That was the most tenderhearted, sincere statement she had ever heard from Millie. She had owed Edna an apology, no doubt about it, but Trish never would have expected Millie to be so successful at it.

  "Okay, that's enough of this mushy stuff," Millie said briskly. "Do we take doughnuts or cupcakes?"

  Twenty minutes later they sat in Shelley's spacious kitchen eating melt-in-your-mouth coffee cake with Sam and Claire-with Claire, anyway. Sam wasn't eating.

  While Claire had gone to tell Sam they were there, Shelley had confided in them how worried she was about her brother. He wasn't himself lately, not that anyone could blame him, she admitted, but she hoped their visit would help to cheer him up some. Then she excused herself, giving Sam's friends and neighbors some privacy for their visit.

  Edna, bless her heart, did her best to carry on a normal conversation about the weather, about the roof leak she and Joe had just discovered, about anything that popped into her mind. Claire dutifully participated, but it was clear that her heart wasn't really in it. Sam, on the other hand, didn't even try.

  Millie's eyes had just about popped out of her head when he'd come into the kitchen, but for once she had held her tongue. Shelley's concern about her brother was well-founded. Still in his bathrobe, Sam had aged at least ten years since they had seen him last. Shuffling to the table, he had accepted a cup of coffee but declined anything to eat.

  While Edna tried to engage him in conversation, Trish cast covert glances at him. His smile was stiff and forced, and his eyes were dull and shadowed-not a good sign. Sam would have to learn how to manage the stress and grief he was under, or he would soon be facing serious health problems. But how did you say that to someone who had been through the traumatic events Sam had? She couldn't even begin to imagine what he was going through.

  Claire gathered the empty plates and refilled coffee cups, then said she wanted to clean the upstairs bedrooms before Shelley came home. It was the least she could do, she explained when Sam protested halfheartedly, since Shelley had so kindly invited her to stay in her home for a while.

  After Claire left the room, Millie interrupted Edna's cheerful chatter. "Edna, you've given it your best shot, now hush. Sam doesn't want to talk about blooming azalea bushes"

  Trish had wondered how long Millie would be able to stay quiet. Actually, Trish was pretty sure Millie had just set a new record. But she was right; Sam wasn't interested in mindless chit-chat. Millie leaned forward and pointed her finger at Sam. "You're letting yourself fall apart"

  Sam didn't appear to be offended by the remark. He leaned back in his chair, crossed one knee over the other, and smiled slightly at Millie. "No, I'm fine, really just a little tired."

  "No, Sam, it's more than just being tired, and you know it. But you have to snap out of it because we need your help."

  "You need my help?" Sam chuckled bitterly. "I'm not in a position to help anybody right now."

  Edna's smile was gentle. "Yes, you are. You're the only one who can."

  "Okay, I'll bite. What do you need help with?"

  "Proving your innocence," Millie said, looking straight into his eyes.

  Sam's face became devoid of all expression. "I have an attorney to do that, Millie. I appreciate the thought, but I'm going to let him take care of this."

  "In other words, you're just going to sit on your butt while you're being railroaded for murder? That's not the Sam I know."

  "My attorney will prove I didn't do this. It's just going to take time."

  Trish placed her hand over his. "The police have a lot of circumstantial evidence, Sam, but sometimes that's all it takes to get a guilty verdict. We've all seen enough real-life court shows to know that."

  Sam sat up straight and pulled his hand away. "What circumstantial evidence? What are you talking about? And how do you know all this?"

  "So the old man does have some life still in him," Millie muttered. "Go ahead and tell him, Trish."

  As Trish told Sam what they had found out from Chief Espinoza, she watched his expression change from a total lack of concern, to disbelief, and then to unease. "You need to let your attorney know this, Sam. That way he'll be prepared when he gets the report. But I wanted to ask you what kind of car trouble you had that morning. Did you know that Claire also had trouble with her car that same morning?"

  Sam looked up and nodded. "Yes, she told me. I didn't think too much about it at the time because she easily had it taken care of. I never made any connection to my own car trouble, but I can see now how strange it looks" Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I just had two flat tires in the rear. I must have driven by a construction site or something. The tires weren't flat when I left the house, but by the time I got about a mile away I could feel something wrong. Fortunately, there was a tire shop close by, so I simply pulled in and bought two new ones. Sure enough, there were roofing nails in each of the tires. It's just a coincidence, not a conspir acy. The police will realize that when they start investigating."

  But the police had already started the investigation and may very well be finished, Trish thought. It would be up to Sam to prove his innocence.

  "Sam, the police have already started investigating, but I'm not sure they've given any significance to the two incidents with the cars," Trish said. "They do consider your car trouble significant, though-a cover-up for the crime, so you would have an excuse for being late to your golf game"

  "Well, they're wrong."

  "We know they're wrong," Edna said, "and we're going to prove it."

  Trish coughed. Edna should have said, "and we're going to help your attorney prove it." It seemed they were all getting a little loose with this Sherlock Holmes talk.

  "You've been set up," Millie said bluntly.

  Sam laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "Don't be rid
iculous, Millie. It was an accident."

  "I'm afraid we all agree, Sam," Edna said quietly. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Neither you nor Claire had ever seen that radio before, it couldn't have fallen into the tub accidentally, nothing was stolen, and now we discover that both you and Claire had car trouble on the very same morning that Susan died."

  "Okay, everything may look suspicious, but it still doesn't prove a murder was committed," Sam argued. "Besides, who in the world would want to set me up for murder? If you're right, this crime took a lot of planning. Don't you think I would have realized that someone was out to get me?" He answered his own question. "No, the idea is too far-fetched to even consider seriously."

  "Humor us," Millie said. "We're a bunch of old ladies with nothing better to do, so humor us and answer our questions while we play detective."

  Sam lifted an eyebrow. "What kind of questions do you have?"

  Millie thought for a moment. "First of all, we want a list of everybody you've been in contact with over the last couple of years"

  Sam's eyes opened wide. "I'll do nothing of the sort! You are not going to start harassing innocent people and causing trouble just because you're bored!"

  Trish sat back and listened to the exchange between Sam and Millie, thoughts careening around in her head. Millie was taking charge of the situation very nicely indeed. Not only was she irritating Sam, but now she was telling him that they were going to solve this mystery, if there even was one, because they were old and in a rut. And Edna just sat there, her silence expressing her agreement with the plan. This situation was getting out of hand fast.

  Millie leaned forward. "What have you got to lose, Sam? Your reputation and your freedom are all you have left to begin picking up the pieces of your life. If you lose those two things because you're too stubborn to admit that maybe, just maybe, we're on to something here, then you'll be letting everybody down, everybody that loves you and believes in you"

  "She's right, Sam," Edna said. "And, most of all, you'll be letting down Susan."

  Sam opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. Finally, after several agonizingly quiet moments, he sighed deeply and nodded. "I still think you all are barking up the wrong tree, but to satisfy your minds and to say that at least all possible scenarios were explored, I'll cooperate with you. I'm warning you, though," he said with a stern look at all of them, "if you hurt any of my friends' feelings, then you stop this charade immediately. Is that understood?"

  Millie grinned broadly. "We'll be the model of decorum. Don't worry."

  Edna clapped her hands together and smiled. "I think you've made the right decision, Sam"

  Trish tried to smile-she really did-but it came off as a grimace. Were they getting Sam's hopes up for nothing? And what happened to just throwing out some suggestions to the police or the attorney? She glanced at the pleased expressions on Millie's and Edna's faces. What had they-or, more precisely, Millie just gotten themselves into?

  For the next hour, Sam talked about his friends and his past business associates while Edna furiously scribbled notes. It was a frustrating process. Every time one of them would ask about a possible hidden agenda by a person on the list of names Sam was giving them, he would become defiant and defensive. He finally called it quits altogether. "That's everybody I can think of. Not one of those people would have a reason to hurt me, but I've done what you've asked" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what are you going to do now?"

  Millie looked at him. "We're going to find out who set you up, of course"

  GGThere's Charlie," Edna exclaimed as soon as Trish turned onto their street.

  "That's perfect," Millie said. "He can be the first person we interview. Pull up in front of Sam's house, Trish." Trish sighed, but did as she was asked. She had to ad-

  mit that she was more than a little curious about the people on the list Sam had given them, but she still wasn't convinced that conducting secret interviews on their own was the right thing to do. What if they inadvertently ruined any chance the person's words could be used as evidence pointing to Sam's innocence?

  Trish had argued the point tirelessly on the way home from their visit with Sam, but her comments had fallen on deaf ears. Millie was certain the police would do nothing more to investigate this case since they were so sure they had the guilty man. Edna had agreed, but her opinion was different. She felt the reason they wouldn't be taken seriously was that Millie had angered the chief.

  Still, it wasn't as though they were trained in detective work, Trish had pointed out. However, one thing she was pretty sure of was that you never ruled out anybody as a suspect, regardless of your instincts. And her instincts were laughing outright at the idea that Sam's gardener, Charlie Simms, could have killed Susan Wiley.

  Millie climbed out of the car as soon as it stopped. "Follow my lead," she whispered as she slammed the door and waved at Charlie.

  Trish shook her head. "Lord, help us," she muttered in sincere prayer.

  "And all His angels," Edna added fervently as they followed Millie.

  Charlie turned off the riding lawn mower and climbed down as he nodded respectfully at the three women. "Good afternoon," he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his brow.

  "Hi, Charlie," Millie said as she approached. "Sam's yard looks just wonderful"

  "Thank you, ma'am. I wasn't sure if Mr. Wiley wanted the lawn done this week or not, since ... well, you know"

  "I'm sure he'll appreciate it," Edna said, patting Charlie's arm.

  The old gardener cleared his throat. "Well, he isn't home right now, but I did it anyway. I sure hope you're right."

  "Yes, I think Sam had to ... um, run an errand," Millie said. "He should be home soon. Charlie, the reason we stopped is because Trish is thinking about having her yard done on a regular basis. You know her house, the one three houses from the corner? Would you be interested in taking on another yard?"

  Trish fought to keep her smile in place even as her hands itched to wrap themselves around Millie's neck. A gardener was definitely not in her budget, and Millie darn well knew it.

  "Sure, I'd be glad to. What exactly do you want done?"

  "Well, I'm not quite sure," Trish said truthfully with a sideways look at Millie. "To start with, I'd probably just need basic mowing and edging."

  Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you want it weekly or monthly?"

  "What about once every two weeks?" she asked, crossing her fingers that the expense wouldn't be too bad. The choice between food and a beautiful lawn was a given. Food would win hands down, regardless of whether Charlie was a viable suspect in Susan's murder or not.

  Charlie nodded. "If I'm still going to be doing Mr. Wiley's yard, I can do yours the same day that his is scheduled" When Charlie quoted a price, Trish breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't starve after all.

  "That's wonderful," Millie said. "Does Trish need to leave a key out for you somewhere, like Sam does if he's not at home?"

  Trish exchanged a quick glance with Edna. So far, Millie was surprisingly smooth at this questioning thing. Unless Millie planned on hiring everybody they talked with to do some work for Trish, they just might get some important information, after all.

  Charlie shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. If all you need is mowing and edging, I can use my own equipment. Mr. Wiley uses special fertilizers and stuff that he keeps in his garage. That's why he always leaves a key out"

  "We all know that he trusts you completely," Edna said. "How long have you been doing Sam's yard, five years?"

  "That's right. I started out just mowing, but gradually it progressed to more-detailed landscaping. I've helped him transform his lawn from just a single flower bed to this." Charlie waved his arm to indicate the beautiful gardens and shrubs. "Mrs. Wiley did a lot of research on what she wanted, and Mr. Wiley planted, trimmed, dug out, and transplanted whatever she wanted until it was just right."
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  Sam's yard really was quite breathtaking, especially at the time of year when the artfully decorated lawn burst into color, proclaiming its majesty for anybody who wanted to see it. A local newspaper had even featured the Wileys' yard a couple of years back in its special gardening section, causing quite a lot of traffic through their quiet neighborhood.

  Realizing that Charlie thought Edna had been referring to Sam's trust in his gardening abilities instead of his trust in leaving a key out, Trish angled for another approach. "To be honest, I'm glad I don't have to leave a key out like Sam does. Even though I'm sure it's a well-kept secret, I'd constantly be worrying about somebody finding it."

  "It's not a secret," Charlie chuckled. "I think everybody who knows the Wileys knows about that key. I used to worry about it myself, since it was originally left out for me. Not many people are that trusting."

  Millie's ears perked up. "Yes, he does trust everybody," she said, remembering how reluctant Sam had been to disclose the names of his friends and associates. "You think other people used that key also?"

  "I know they did. I saw it all the time. It was mainly people that worked for him, you know. They'd come by to pick up something for Sam, and if Susan wasn't home, they'd just use the key. None of them were sneaky about it, though. They'd tell me outright what they were doing. It probably happened all the time. I wasn't here that often, you know"

  Trish wanted to ask specifically who Charlie had seen using the key, but she sensed that he was becoming curious as to why they were so interested in who used the key. Charlie didn't know that Susan's death was now considered murder. Let him continue to think it was a horrible accident-at least, for a while longer.

  After agreeing that Charlie would start Trish's yard in two weeks, the women said good-bye and drove back to Trish's house. By unspoken agreement, they piled into her kitchen and poured fresh coffee.

  Edna covered a yawn with her hand. "I don't know about you two, but I'm exhausted"

  Trish glanced into the living room at her exercise machine and then purposely looked away. Her legs were still tingling from her recent workout. "I could use a nap, myself"