Building Blocks of Murder

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  Ed McNeil nodded, hanging his head as if sorry for his behavior. When he turned to head back to his table, the person in front of Lacy shifted to the right, allowing her a direct line to Jason’s sight. Jason chose that moment look straight ahead. Their eyes locked and held until the judge spoke.

  “You’re dismissed, Officer, with the court’s apologies.”

  Finally, agonizingly, Jason tore his gaze from Lacy and walked down from the stand. Lacy was glad there were a few formalities before court adjourned so she could try and compose her scattered thoughts.

  Growing up, Jason had always been one of the beautiful people whose life had seemed perfect. But behind the fair façade, he was hiding a dirty secret. His home life had been chaotic at the least and abusive at the worst. As the shocking information began to sink in, the pieces started to click together. No wonder Jason had thrown himself into school. No wonder he was so dedicated to being a cop. No wonder he was such a neat freak. It didn’t take a professional psychologist to see that he was trying to order his world, to make sense of the chaos, and right the wrongs from his past.

  Though she had no idea what to say to him, she had to talk to him. But when she scanned the courtroom, he was nowhere in sight. Had he slipped out when she hadn’t been watching? Granted, she had been zoned out for the last few minutes now. In fact, as she came to, she realized with a start that court had been adjourned and all the key players were absent, including Ed McNeil, the person she had come to see.

  Lacy stood, gathered her purse, and rushed into the hallway. Ed McNeil stood in the circle of three reporters. Lacy could tell they were reporters because of the recording devices they held in front of Ed McNeil’s face. She was surprised by the attention this case was receiving. Their town was small and far from a large news source. With chagrin, she realized it was probably her article that had sparked an interest in the case. She bit back a groan; Jason would never forgive her for this.

  When the lawyer was at last finished hamming it up for the cameras, Lacy advanced on him, but he held up a hand to ward her off.

  “Not now, Lacy. I’m very busy.”

  “I need to talk to you,” she said, jogging to keep pace with him as he strutted down the corridor.

  “I don’t have time right now. I have another meeting.”

  “When is a good time? I can’t seem to get a straight answer from your Attila the Hun secretary, and this concerns a great deal of money.”

  He paused. If there was one thing Ed McNeil appreciated, it was the almighty dollar. Lacy was momentarily distracted by the sight of his garish pinky ring, glittering in the fluorescent lights as he ran his hands through his greasy hair. “I’ll be in my office tomorrow morning and my secretary has a dentist appointment. Stop by then, but keep it short. I’m very busy.” With that he turned and continued his walk toward the exit while Lacy scowled at his back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flash of a dark uniform. Hoping it was Jason, she changed direction and hurried around the corner, but it was too late. If it was him, he had gone. Figuring out what to say to him would have to wait until she could find him. She tried not to feel relieved that she wouldn’t have to think up something to say. What was there to say?

  Sorry you had a horrific childhood. Sorry I complain about all my petty problems when you have real issues to deal with. Sorry I thought your life was perfect when it’s much worse than mine has ever been. Maybe she shouldn’t say a word. Maybe she should just hug him.

  She gave a humorless chuckle as she tried to imagine hugging Jason in his current mood. She would have better luck hugging a hungry grizzly. Maybe she should give him some time to cool off; she certainly wouldn’t want to be the recipient of his now-raging temper.

  Chapter 7

  By the time Lacy left the courthouse, she had come to her senses and overcome her fear of confronting Jason. He was her friend and, bad mood or not, he had to be hurting over such a public and humiliating airing of his family’s dirty laundry. She had to see him, had to let him know that he wasn’t alone. She pulled out her phone and called him, gritting her teeth in impatience when she once again reached his voicemail.

  “I’m starting to feel like your stalker,” she said. “Just for your information, I am not the woman who calls and leaves fifty messages on a guy’s voicemail, but I get the sense you’re dodging me, and I don’t like that. I’ve already apologized, but I’ll do it again. I’m sorry I brought this whole mess about. It wasn’t my intention, and I hope you know that. I go off a little half-cocked when I’m angry. No big surprise there.” She paused. “Jason, I’m sorry. And I want you to know that the stuff from court…it’s not…relevant to…who you are…to our…friendship.” She sighed again. “I’m making a mess out of this. I hate voicemail,” she said, and then the machine cut her off, ending her message most awkwardly. With a huff of frustration, she closed her phone. Resisting the urge to toss it against the nearest wall, she instead shoved it forcefully in her pocket. Tightening her grip on her purse, she jogged down the stairs.

  She had only gone a few steps when her phone rang. She was so startled to hear Jason’s tone that she tripped on the last step, barely catching herself on the metal banister in time to avoid a disastrous fall.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice breathless as she tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart.

  “Geez, are you okay?” Jason asked.

  She rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to be concerned about her at a time like this. “I fell down the stairs a little. I’m fine.”

  He chuckled and tried to turn it into a cough. “Only you, Red, you know that?”

  “Lots of people fall down the stairs, Jason,” she said.

  “If you say so,” he said. There was an awkward pause.

  “So,” Lacy started, but Jason cut her off.

  “Lacy, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I was simply going to ask who you thought was going to win the Super Bowl this year. I hear the Cardinals have an excellent shot, which is good because I’ve always liked St. Louis.”

  “The St. Louis Cardinals are a baseball team. I think maybe you mean the Arizona Cardinals.”

  “I don’t think so because I don’t really care for Arizona. Too dry.”

  “Either you’re really good at offering a distraction, or you’re really bad at understanding sports,” Jason said.

  “Maybe it’s a combination,” Lacy said. There was another pause, but it was more comfortable this time. “I don’t like how we left things the other night,” she added, trying to hash out at least one of the issues between them.

  “Neither do I,” Jason said. “You drive me crazy, though, Lacy. You really, really do.”

  “One ‘really’ would have been plenty, Jason,” she said.

  “I don’t think so, Red. In fact, sometimes I think there aren’t enough adjectives in the world to describe what you do to me.” This time when he paused, tension practically sizzled the line between them. “I should probably go,” he said at last.

  She wanted to ask where he was going to go, what he was going to do, how he was feeling. But she had no right to ask any of those things. Or maybe she did, but she was afraid to, afraid to get too close to him, to cross the fine line they had been dancing for the last few weeks.

  “Jason,” she began, feeling her way uncertainly. “You know I’m here, right? If you want to talk or…” she broke off, not knowing how to continue.

  “It’s the ‘or’ that intrigues me and keeps me up at night, Red,” Jason said. She could tell he was smiling, and she smiled in return.

  “For the record, Ed McNeil deserves to be horsewhipped for what he did to you, and I plan to tell him the next time I see him,” she added, feeling angry all over again.

  “He deserves more than a whipping,” Jason said, his tone turning gritty and hard. “He deserves to be shot.”

  “Well, I suppose you would feel that way,” Lacy said, trying to overlook the disconcerting imagery the words
had caused.

  “It’s not the way I feel; it’s a fact. He’s a bottom feeder who deserves what’s coming to him.”

  “Jason, you don’t really mean that,” Lacy said softly.

  Jason pulled in a breath, held it, and let it out slowly. “No, I don’t really mean that. Still, though, he’s not on my list of favorite people.”

  “I bet there are a lot of people who will be crossing him off their Christmas card lists this year,” Lacy said, frowning.

  Jason laughed. “Ah, Lacy, don’t let this go to your head, but your innocent mind and Miss Priss attitude are good for me.”

  “Miss Priss?” Lace repeated, outraged.

  “Forget it. Let’s say goodbye now before the warm fuzzies go away and we start fighting again. Later, Red.”

  Before she could reply, he hung up. Almost as soon as she closed her phone, it rang again. This time it was another roofer, telling her he couldn’t do the promised estimate until the stop-work order was removed.

  “I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” she assured him. “Stupid Ed McNeil,” she yelled as she tucked the phone back in her pocket, startling the man walking beside her so that he jumped and moved away from her.

  Head down in embarrassment now, she started walking, and then her phone rang again. This time she smiled when she heard the tone, knowing it was Tosh.

  “Hey,” she said. “Took you long enough to call me back.”

  “I was supposed to call you back?” Keegan said.

  “Are you using Tosh’s phone?”

  “How else was I supposed to get your number? Is it okay that I called?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I just thought it was Tosh. How is he?” Why hasn’t he returned my call?

  “Stuffy and boring. He’s ditching me tonight for some church thing.”

  “It’s Wednesday night; I think that’s just church,” she said.

  “You Protestants and your overconsumption of church. What’s the big deal about going once a week? We Catholics had the system perfected until Martin Luther came along and ruined it.”

  “You’re arguing with the wrong protestant,” she told him. “I’m not a card-carrying member of anywhere.”

  “You don’t go to Tosh’s church?” he asked, surprised.

  “Sure I do. I wouldn’t want to hurt Tosh’s feelings. But I’m sort of on the fringe of things. The real power players are my grandmother’s group of friends. I call them the blue-hair mafia. You don’t want to mess with them.”

  “Sounds scary,” Keegan said. “I hope Tosh is safe here.”

  “Tosh knows how to handle the geriatric set,” Lacy assured him. “He has special skills.”

  Keegan laughed. “You mean he’s a suck-up. I’m going to tell him you said that.”

  “Don’t give him more reason to be upset with me,” Lacy said, only half joking. Why did it feel like Tosh was now dodging her?

  “So, are you free tonight?” Keegan pressed.

  “Sure, I guess. What did you have in mind?”

  “It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up at six.” With that, he hung up.

  “Doesn’t anyone say goodbye anymore?” she asked, causing yet another passerby to look at her in alarm. “I have got to stop talking to myself,” she muttered, putting her head down once again and heading to her car before remembering she didn’t have one.

  It’s been a busy day, and you’re overwhelmed, she reassured herself. You’re not actually crazy; senility won’t settle in until much later in life. With that comforting thought in mind, she began the long walk home.

  Chapter 8

  When Lacy arrived home and saw her grandparents sitting close together on the couch, their heads almost touching as her grandfather’s arm rested on her grandmother’s shoulders, Lacy remembered what Tosh had said. Was it time to move out of her grandmother’s house? The thought of being on her own was nearly as painful as the thought that her grandparents might resent her presence.

  They turned to her with welcoming smiles, but she felt paranoid now, as if she were intruding on their alone time. “I’m going out tonight,” she proclaimed, lest they get the idea that she was going to hang out in the living room and badger them.

  “All right, dear,” her grandmother, ever the loving encourager, said with a smile. “That sounds nice. Which one are you seeing tonight?”

  Lacy winced. Why did she have to make is sound like Lacy had a string of beaux, just waiting for her to choose them? “I’m going out with Tosh’s brother, Keegan. He’s visiting from Chicago.”

  “How nice,” Lucinda said with a vague smile. Lacy knew that if push came to shove, Tosh would be her grandmother’s choice for her. He was, after all, her pastor. What grandmother didn’t dream of seeing her granddaughter married to a nice, wholesome pastor? Though the “wholesome” image didn’t always fit Tosh. He was a bit of a rogue cleric, in Lacy’s opinion.

  “What do we know about this Keegan boy?” her grandfather asked, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied Lacy.

  Lacy smiled. “He’s very nice. He runs his family’s construction company, and he looked at the Stakely building for me today. He thinks we should use solar panels and make part of the roof a garden.”

  “That’s actually a good idea,” Mr. Middleton admitted begrudgingly.

  “You’ll like him,” Lacy assured him.

  “I’m sure we will,” Lucinda said. “After all, he’s Pastor Underwood’s brother.”

  Mr. Middleton smiled at her in the same amused way that Tosh and Jason often smiled at Lacy. “Don’t you know when one kid goes good in a family, the other usually goes bad, Lucy?” he asked, his tone teasing.

  Lacy didn’t mention that Tosh was probably the bad one in this scenario. He hadn’t told her exactly what was in his wild past before he sewed his oats, but she guessed it was fairly epic.

  “Oh, Tom, I’m sure he’s a nice young man, or Lacy wouldn’t have anything to do with him,” Lucinda assured him, patting his arm.

  “That’s so,” Mr. Middleton agreed. “Our Lacy’s sensible.” They turned beaming smiles of approval on Lacy who smiled awkwardly at being caught in the sudden spotlight. What did people do when they weren’t able to bask in their grandparents’ love? Her thoughts turned to Jason and something he had once said to her. Not all of us have grandparents standing by, waiting to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. Was he really all alone in the world?

  “Lacy, are you okay, dear?” her grandmother asked.

  Lacy snapped back to attention and gave her grandparents an unconvincing smile. “Long day.” She edged farther into the room and sank into the chair across from the couch. “I went to Jason’s trial today. It was a smear campaign. Ed McNeil brought up a lot of garbage from his past.” Her eyes met those of her grandfather as silent communication passed between them. This was the baggage he had been referring to from Jason’s past, the reason he was a survivor.

  Her grandmother, who believed all the world’s ills could be solved with sugar, stood and bustled to the kitchen to retrieve a treat for Lacy. Or maybe she simply sensed that Lacy wanted a moment alone with her grandfather.

  “Was it as bad as Ed McNeil made it sound?” Lacy asked.

  Mr. Middleton sat back with a weary sigh. “It was probably worse. I can’t believe he brought all that up. That man is a devil.”

  For the first time, Lacy let herself feel all that she had been holding back. Her eyes filled with tears. “I wish I didn’t know. I wish I could go back to being ignorant, to thinking Jason’s life was perfect.”

  “No one’s life is perfect, Lacy. Our trials and tribulations shape us into who we are; it’s what shape you turn into that counts, and I think Jason’s turned out pretty well. Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lacy said, nodding as she sniffled. “He’s such a hard-working perfectionist. And he’s so…” she trailed off, realizing the direction of her thoughts and how they must sound to her grandfather. “Well, he’s a good guy,” she finished l
amely.

  “I think so, too,” her grandfather agreed with a benevolent smile. His eyes glazed as he stared blankly at the television, remembering. “It was hard back then, knowing what he was going through and seeing how hard he worked to keep it hidden from his friends. There are some kids you don’t forget for one reason or another. Jason was one of those. I’m glad to see his life is on track.” He snapped back into focus and looked at Lacy. “I’m glad he has you.”

  “I’m not sure he does,” Lacy admitted. “Sometimes it seems like we’re on our way to becoming good friends, and sometimes we can’t stop fighting for two minutes.”

  Mr. Middleton’s only reply was a sort of knowing smile that made Lacy turn away to avoid blushing.

  “Peanut butter cookies,” Lucinda announced by way of greeting as she entered the room. She shoved a small plate in Lacy’s hands and stepped back.

  “Thanks, Grandma,” Lacy said. She picked up one of the cookies, only intending to take a polite bite so as not to hurt her grandmother’s feelings, but as her thoughts swirled, she kept picking at the cookies until she had unwittingly eaten the entire plate. Great, she thought. I can practically hear myself getting fatter. “I think I’ll go for a run before Keegan gets here.” She stood, carrying her plate into the kitchen on her way to her room.

  The weather was somewhere between crisp and warm with the spicy scent of falling leaves permeating the air. It was only September, but the leaves seemed to be dropping earlier this year. Or maybe it was just Lacy projecting her gloomy mood on the rest of the world. At least now she wasn’t drenched in sweat every time she went for a jog, however. Spring and fall were the only brief windows of time where running was even slightly tolerable. Then came summer and winter where she was either freezing or melting, adding to her misery as she pounded the pavement.