Classic Revenge

by Mitzi Kelly

  "Call me Millie. And the same goes for Edna and Trish. We don't stand on formality here"

  "Thank you, Millie." Larry grinned and then suddenly winked at Trish and Edna, causing Trish to choke on her tea. He had been warned, obviously by Chief Espinoza, about Millie. What a good sport he was, she thought with a smile, to let Millie air out her suspicions so rudely as he tried to gain their trust. Not many men had the self-confidence to sit back and let a woman jump all over them, but Larry seemed to take it all in stride.

  "Does this mean that you agree with us?" Edna asked, interrupting Trish's thoughts.

  "Of course it does, Edna," Millie said, placing Larry's glass in front of him and sitting down. "Why else would he be here?"

  Larry scratched the back of his head and grimaced. "Well, I can't say definitively either way. My job is to keep an open mind and investigate all possibilities. Since your assumption is not out of the possibility range, I'd like to hear more"

  Millie's smile faltered, but after a moment she nodded. "Okay, I guess that's fair enough"

  "The first thing you need to know, Larry," Edna said, leaning forward intently, "is that we don't think Susan's death was an accident. We believe she was murdered, but not by Sam. And, with or without your help, we're going to prove it."

  Trish blinked and then looked at Millie, who was staring at Edna as if she had just sprouted two heads. Edna never, ever spoke that firmly to anybody.

  Then, as if to prove the point, Edna said apologetically, "I hope you don't think I'm being adversarial."

  Trish relaxed. That was more like it.

  "Of course not, Mrs.... Edna. I think you care deeply for your friend and want to help him." Larry leaned forward and looked each of them in the eye, in turn. "But let me ask you this. What if you're wrong? What if Sam Wiley wasn't set up, that the evidence does convict him? Will you be able to accept that?"

  Millie sent him a piercing look. "That ain't gonna happen."

  Trish raised her eyebrows. "I would completely lose faith in all mankind-not to mention in the entire legal system"

  Edna shook her head. "There's nothing that could convince me Sam is guilty."

  Larry sighed deeply and settled back in his chair. "Well, as long as we all keep an open mind .. "

  For the next half hour, the women discussed their ideas about the evidence the chief had told them pointed to Sam. Larry listened attentively, jotting a few notes in a small notebook he pulled from his back pocket. He remained basically noncommittal, but it didn't appear as if he was simply placating them, more like he was digesting their opinions for further analysis. By unspoken agreement, none of them mentioned that Claire had had car trouble on that fateful morning, also. It was a piece of the story that only they knew so far, and besides, it would only make Sam appear more guilty.

  Trish shifted her weight in the chair. "Larry, I know you can't discuss the particulars about this case with us, but what happens if we get some new information that could poke holes in the case you have against Sam?"

  Larry's eyebrows shot up. "You're not planning on investigating this on your own, are you?"

  "We've already started," Millie said proudly. "We've ruled out-"

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Larry said, holding up his hands and shaking his head, "this isn't a game, you know. This could be very dangerous. I can't allow it."

  That was definitely the wrong thing for him to say.

  Millie's eyes narrowed. "You can't allow it?"

  Larry tried another tactic. "What you're planning on doing could interfere with a police investigation. That's against the law. I'd hate to see any of you end up in jail just because you think we're not doing our job," he said.

  Unfortunately, none of the ladies appeared frightened at the prospect of a night behind bars. He sighed, running a hand across his face. "I'll make you a deal," he said resignedly. "I will do any investigating, and I promise that I'll keep you informed with as much information as I can. You ladies keep on brainstorming, and if you think you have an idea on a lead, you just tell me and I'll do the follow up. So, are we agreed?"

  "Nope."

  Larry looked at Millie, but it soon became obvious to him that she wasn't about to change her mind. He quickly glanced at Edna, who just shrugged and shook her head. With an imploring look, he turned to Trish.

  "I'm afraid we're not in agreement with you on that, Larry. We're going to do whatever we can to help clear Sam. From what we've seen so far, the authorities believe they have their man. I can't see them aggressively pursuing other leads when they have so much else to do. People ignoring our speed trap are running rampant on our streets"

  "It is absolutely unconscionable," Millie stated. "And to think I used to feel safe in this community."

  Larry's look spoke volumes. The ladies' sarcasm wasn't lost on him. "You honestly believe that we would prefer to convict an innocent man of murder, instead of the real criminal?"

  "I wouldn't say that," Edna said sweetly, reaching over to pat Larry's hand. "We just feel that Chief Espinoza believes he already has the real criminal."

  "Why would he suggest I speak with you ladies, then?"

  "Isn't he up for re-election soon? We're all at the legal voting age, you know."

  Trish cleared her throat. "Millie, the Chief of Police is appointed by the City Council. Henry won't be running in an actual election. But she does have an interesting point, Larry. Is he only trying to protect his reputation?"

  Larry sighed deeply, drumming his fingertips on the table. "You're just going to have to trust me on this. Nobody has slammed the door shut on this case, but unless somebody else confesses or new evidence is brought forward, Sam Wiley will be standing trial for the murder of his wife. As I've said before, all the evidence points directly at him."

  Millie slammed her hand down on the table. "Prove it!"

  Larry looked at her warily. "Prove what?"

  "Prove we can trust you"

  "How do you propose I do that?"

  Millie didn't answer right away. Getting up, she walked over to the counter and reached into her purse. Turning, she walked back and placed a folded piece of paper in front of Larry. Edna's eyes widened, and she looked at Trish. Millie was handing over their list of suspects !

  "What's this?" Larry asked as he unfolded the paper and laid it flat on the table.

  "We believe the killer is on that list," Millie said dramatically.

  Trish groaned and dropped her head in her hand. "Millie ... "

  After he had skimmed the twenty-odd names on the list, Larry leaned back in his chair and very slowly let his gaze fall on each woman. He would have made a great school principal, Trish thought as she squirmed in her chair. Edna very wisely kept her own eyes directed at her hands in her lap. Millie, naturally, appeared totally unfazed as she stared right back at him.

  Larry flicked the edge of the paper with his finger. "Where did you get this?"

  Millie shrugged. "We asked Sam who he had associated with in the last few years, and we came up with that list of names"

  "And what makes you think one of these people killed Susan?"

  "Because," Millie blurted impatiently, "whoever did this intentionally made Sam look like the guilty party. That means it was someone who knows Sam."

  "What motive would someone have to murder Sam's wife and do it in such a way that Sam looks guilty?"

  "We won't know that until we know who did it!" Millie snapped. "Are you going to help us or not?"

  Larry looked at her incredulously. "You want me to bring in all these people for questioning?"

  "Of course not," Edna said evenly. "That would tip off the real killer."

  Larry looked like he was about to explode, but to his credit, his voice remained calm and respectful. "Then what is it that you expect me to do?"

  Millie leaned across the table and grabbed the paper. "We've already ruled out a couple of people on this list."

  Edna leaned forward eagerly. "Yes, but we ran into a snag this morning
. One of the people we were trying to get a feel for has a man working for him who used to work for Sam and, unfortunately, this man knows us."

  Millie nodded toward Larry's notebook. "Write this down: Mark Wilson. Find out where he was the day Susan was murdered. See if he has an ax to grind with Sam, you know, or any stuff like that"

  Trish nodded. "It would be too risky if we tried to check him out. Mark worked for Sam a long time. I really don't think he's involved, but he may know something about somebody else on our list."

  Larry's eyes were dancing, amusement clearly on the verge of bubbling over. "I'm glad to hear you're not willing to take any risks," he said, tongue-in-cheek. "Are you going to give me the list?"

  Millie chuckled. "Nice try. No, we'll keep the list. You said you wanted us to trust you. Get us the information we want on Mark and we'll see where we go from there. Personally, I'd like to know just how good you are at your job"

  Larry grinned. "I'm good at what I do, Millie, very good" He fell silent for a moment as he flipped his pen back and forth through his fingers. "I'll tell you what, I'll see what I can find out about Mark Wilson, and I'll let you know if I discover anything interesting, but I won't divulge anything concerning privacy issues, you understand. In return, I expect to be kept informed on what you three are doing-preferably before you do it. As exciting as playing detective sounds, I can't stress enough how dangerous this could be" Larry paused for a moment and let his gaze fall on each of them. "Do we have a deal?"

  The three women looked at each other. Finally, Millie shrugged. "Do you have a cell phone?"

  Larry left a few minutes later, after promising to get back to them soon and warning them once again about the dangers of amateur investigating. "I think we can trust that young man," Millie mused as they watched him drive away.

  "I hope you're right," Trish said. There was comfort in knowing an experienced professional was going to help them, but they would still need to be careful. Was Larry's true agenda to help them prove Sam was set up, or was it to further cement Sam's fate as a convicted murderer?

  Trish had trouble sleeping that night, and for no apparent reason. She was tired, she was comfortable ... and she was wide awake. Finally, she rolled over and glanced at the bedside clock. It was all of two A.M. Groaning out loud, she gave it up. She slipped into her house shoes and plodded down the hallway. A nap would definitely be in order later today, but, for now, she might as well get started on some much-needed housework. Coffee cup in hand, she headed toward her office to make a list of what she wanted to accomplish. Trish was big on lists.

  Suddenly, a loud pounding at her front door accompanied by several shrill rings of the doorbell caused her to jump, spilling hot coffee down the front of her nightgown. With her heart banging in her chest, Trish felt rooted to the floor as she stared at the door. Who could be there at two o'clock in the morning?

  GGTrish! Trish, open the door!" Finally, Trish pulled air through her lungs and raced to pull the door open. Millie stood gasping, eyes wide behind glasses that sat slightly askew on her face. Her hair was pulled up in pink sponge-rollers, and she was grasping the bottom of her purple nightgown in one hand, revealing one bare foot and one slippered foot. Trish gaped at her.

  Millie pushed inside, slammed the door, and then leaned against it. "Call the police!"

  "Wha-TI

  "I've been broken into! Somebody was in my house!"

  "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine. Just call the police, please!"

  This was serious. Millie never said "please." Trish ran to grab the phone and dialed nine-one-one. Hurriedly, she explained the situation to the emergency dispatcher, and then gave the address. She replaced the phone and rushed back to Millie, who was peeking through the front windows at her house across the street.

  "What happened?" Trish demanded as she, too, peered out into the darkness.

  "Something woke me up, a noise or a feeling, or ... something. I don't know," Millie answered, her voice calmer and even a little angry. "After a while, I thought it had just been my imagination, or maybe a storm was approaching. Since I was awake, I got up to get a drink of water. That's when I saw my back door standing wide open. It still didn't register that somebody had broken in until I stepped on the glass. Somebody busted out one of the panels on the door and unlocked it. All I could think about was that somebody might still be in the house. I hightailed it out of there, and when I saw your lights on, I came over here"

  What a scare she must have had, Trish thought as she squeezed Millie's shoulder. An eighty-year-old woman living alone was easy prey for an unscrupulous character. Thank goodness Millie wasn't hurt. Material things could be replaced, but the life of her friend was much more valuable than any thing.

  Trish stared out the window looking for some kind of movement, a shadow crossing under the moonlit sky, or something else that would give them a clue as to the person, or persons, who had done this to Millie. But there was nothing. The branches in the trees weren't even stirring in the calm night air.

  Suddenly, the hair stood up on the back of her neck. What was happening to this neighborhood? First there'd been a murder, and now a break-in, both incidents serious crimes, not the work of bored adolescents. Trish shuddered and glanced sideways at Millie, who was single-mindedly staring across the street at her house, her lips drawn into a tight, thin line.

  They say everything happens in threes. Trish turned again to look outside, a sense of dread coming over her. What would happen next?

  The police siren sounded in the background. "The police will be here soon," Trish said unnecessarily. Millie was obstinate, Trish reminded herself, not deaf.

  "Good. It's about time."

  Trish looked at her quizzically. It had been what, maybe five minutes, since she had hung up the phone. It had been a pretty good response time by any standardsexcept, of course, by Millie's. Before she could stop her, Millie dropped the curtain and raced out the front door, while Trish rushed to catch up. For a little old lady, Millie sure could move fast.

  Millie was standing out by the curb, practically hopping from one foot to the other in her impatience for the police to arrive. The noise from the siren was louder now, and several porch lights up and down the block flipped on as concerned neighbors peeked out their front doors. This was probably the most excitement any of them had witnessed since living in this neighborhood, or, at least, since Susan Wiley's untimely death.

  Just then a patrol car rounded the corner and stopped in front of Millie's house, the red and blue flashing lights lighting up the whole street. Trish was surprised to see Henry Espinoza step out of the car. Surely the chief had enough seniority that he didn't have to work the graveyard shift!

  Millie charged across the street, obviously uncon cerned about the fact she was only wearing one slipper. Trish followed, uncomfortably aware that her soft pink nightgown, wet with coffee spills, had definitely seen better days. She caught sight of Edna and Joe coming up the sidewalk with worried frowns on their faces. "Millie's fine," she assured them as they drew closer, "but her house was broken into. She ran over here and we called the police."

  "Oh, dear," Edna gasped. "Was anything taken?"

  "I don't know. I don't think she looked around before she fled"

  "Poor Millie." Joe shook his head and sighed deeply. Was he wondering, too, about the sudden rash of crime invading their quiet little neighborhood? "You two stay here, and I'll see if I can help." Joe walked over to where Millie was talking to Henry-well, more like arguing, if the sound of Millie's raised voice was anything to go by. It sounded as if the chief was demanding that she stay put for a minute, and she was refusing, wanting to go inside with him.

  Trish and Edna moved closer, ready to tackle Millie if the need arose. It wasn't safe for her to go into the house before Henry had a chance to thoroughly check it out and make sure the intruder was gone. They were spared having to perform any heroics when Joe, in his usual calm way, wrapped his arm around Millie and pu
lled her to where Edna and Trish stood. The sight of Joe, over six feet tall, having to bend down to comfort tiny Millie would have been humorous if the situation hadn't been so serious.

  "Millie," he said, his voice deep and soothing, "it could be dangerous for you to distract Henry right now. Let him do his job, and then we'll all go in with you to see what damage there is and find out if anything has been taken. But first, Henry has to make sure it's safe to go in the house. Someone could get hurt if the guy is still in there" While Joe had been talking, Henry had walked up the driveway and circled around to the back of the house. Trish noticed that he had his gun drawn, and a shiver ran down her spine.

  Millie snapped her mouth shut, and after a moment she nodded. "You're right, of course. I was hoping the guy was still in my house so we could catch him, but I wasn't thinking about how dangerous that could be" She reached up and patted Joe's hand, which was still resting on her shoulder. "Thank you, Joe."

  Edna reached over and tightened one of the curlers that had loosened from Millie's head. "I'm just so sorry this has happened to you"

  4111mnot."

  Trish blinked, sure she had heard wrong. "What did you say?"

  "I said, I'm not. It seems to me that we're making somebody nervous" Millie smiled an impish, satisfied smile as she turned to look at her house. It was fairly easy to follow where Henry was in the house as rooms lit up, one by one.

  "What in the world are you talking about, Millie?" Joe raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Who are you making nervous?"

  Millie clamped a hand over her mouth at the same time Trish groaned. Edna took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "Joe, dear," she said sweetly, placing a gentle hand on his arm, "you're intimidating poor Millie. I think it would be best if you'd leave your questions for later."

  "You think I'm intimidating her? I just asked a simple question!"

  "Not in front of the neighbors," Edna warned. Joe started to say something, but one look at his wife's determined expression made him change his mind. He stared first at his wife and then at Millie, who just looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Finally, his voice deceptively quiet, Joe said, "I'll refrain from asking any questions right now. But as soon as Henry leaves, the four of us are going to have a discussion."