by C. J. Urban
She opened the front door and waited to see if the cat would leave, but it merely looked at her, blinked twice, curled its tail around its face and closed its eyes.
“Fine,” she announced. “I guess you’re staying, then.”
Julie lay in bed for a long while that night, pondering her cousin’s murder. She had a nagging suspicion that Jacob Leigh was, as many others thought, wrongfully convicted. Although she barely knew any true facts about the case, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the real killer was still out there, free. Perhaps still dangerous, even after all these years.
Hours later her eyes were so heavy she couldn’t keep them open any longer. She closed them, fighting visions of a strange man peering into her room, until she finally fell into a dark and fitful sleep.
Chapter 8
Early the next morning Julie awoke to find the amber-eyed, black cat staring down at her. She jerked the covers up to her face, surprised, but then relaxed and slowly reached over to pet it. The cat immediately jumped from the bed, scurrying underneath.
She leaned over to look. The cat peeked out at her, swishing its tail. “I need to get you some food, little buddy. Not to mention shots, a collar, and a few toys so you can have some entertainment.”
The cat poked its head out and edged away from Julie toward the door. It scampered through the hallway and down the stairs.
Julie chuckled, snuggling back under the blankets, and savored the last few moments of peace before facing the day ahead. There was still a lot of work to be done. She’d unpacked the boxes, but the house was still in need of some serious cleaning.
Finally she climbed out of bed and pulled on her favorite Bermuda shorts and a light green tank top. It was already warming up. This heat is going to kill me, she thought as she slipped her feet into her sandals.
The main thing she wanted to do today – aside from cleaning – was visit her uncle. Sam didn’t really know him, and she thought her Uncle Oliver might like some visitors. And, although she wasn’t pleased to know that Tara had been murdered inside the home, she wanted to thank him personally for letting them stay there.
She crossed the hall to Sam’s bedroom, but found he wasn’t there. She made her way downstairs, figuring he was exploring the house, and as she entered the kitchen she found him sitting on the island, swinging his legs and eating Doritos and sour cream.
“That’s a horrible breakfast, Sammy,” Julie said, laughing. She took the bag from him and put it back in the pantry. “Let’s have some waffles and peanut butter. That’s still fun, and it’s a little better for you.”
Five minutes later Sam was devouring both waffles. “Mmm,” he said, spreading the peanut butter all over his mouth, then licking it clean.
Julie handed him a napkin. “Today is going to be a busy day, Sam. After we get Midnight some cat food and toys, we’re going to visit Uncle Oliver.”
“Midnight?”
“Isn’t that a cute name for a black cat?”
“’Midnight,’” Sam repeated, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Yeah. I like it. So where does Uncle Oliver live?”
“He lives in a retirement community. That’s a place for elderly people. It’s called Sunnyside. It shouldn’t take too long, but I want to talk with him about a few things. And you be sure to thank him for letting us live here.”
“Even if I don’t like it?” Sam asked.
“Even if you don’t like it,” Julie retorted. “He’s being very kind to us. And, give it a chance, Sammy. You’ll get used to it here.”
“Alright,” Sam moped. “But then can we do something fun?”
“We’ll see. This place needs to be cleaned.”
“It’s hot here,” Sam observed. “Not cool, like the beach.”
“Well, get some shorts and flip-flops. You’ll get used to the heat, too.”
Sam put his plate in the sink and trudged upstairs to change. Julie watched him go, wondering if moving all the way up here was such a good idea after all. He’d been through a lot. They both had. She missed her parents as much as he did. She encouraged him to talk about them, but she tried to hide her sadness from him. She didn’t even know if that was the right thing to do. “You’re doing the best you can, girl,” she told herself as she rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.
Sam came back into the kitchen, wearing shorts and a tee shirt. Laundry, Julie reminded herself. I have to do laundry too.
Sighing, Julie grabbed her purse, and she and Sam left the house. After a brief stop for cat food and supplies, they drove to Sunnyside Retirement Community. She parked in the small lot designated for visitors and they walked through an open gate, following a path that led directly into the neighborhood.
Julie had never seen a place like Sunnyside before. The houses were small and quaint, and looked flawless, which made her sad for some reason. Each house was painted the same gray and white, and each had an immaculate lawn and garden of roses and tulips.
Julie made her way to a building labeled “Visitor Center,” with Sam following. He’d brought a yo-yo with him and was working the toy pretty well. They entered and found themselves in a cool, air-conditioned office. She had no idea which house her uncle lived in.
“Excuse me,” Julie said politely to the woman at the desk.
The woman gave Julie a businesslike smile. “Can I help you?”
“I sure hope so,” Julie said, returning the smile. “I’m trying to find Oliver McGuire’s house.”
“Are you relatives of his?” She asked.
“Yes. I’m his niece, and this is his nephew. We’re here to visit him.”
“I’ll page Mr. McGuire to see if he’s feeling up to visitors.”
Julie thought it odd that the woman had the ability to page her uncle’s home, but reasoned it must be for the safety of the residents.
She listened while the woman spoke to her uncle for a moment. Then the woman turned to Julie. “He says he’d be happy to see you. I’ll have one of our drivers take you to his home.”
The woman directed Julie and Sam outside to a small lot containing several golf carts. Sam was extremely impressed, and excited to ride in one. Julie greatly appreciated not having to walk in the hot morning sun.
They arrived at his house a few minutes later, and found Uncle Oliver was already outside, sitting on a small bench in front of his house. He beamed at them, apparently too eager to wait inside.
Julie and Sam got off the cart, and before they even reached the walkway, the cart driver sped off, back toward the Visitor’s Center.
“Hi, Uncle Oliver,” Julie said, tentatively approaching him. She hadn’t seen him since Sam was a baby, and felt a little awkward.
“Well, hello, hello, dear Julie!” Her uncle greeted warmly. He rose from the bench and held out his hands to grasp hers. “Nice to see you.” Then he turned his attention to Sam, and his smile widened even more. “I haven’t seen you since you were six months old, and look at you! Now you’re a handsome young man.”
“Thank you,” Sam said, smiling a little uncomfortably.
“Can we come inside?” Julie asked. “It’s sweltering out here.”
“Of course, of course,” her uncle answered. “Come on in.” He turned, motioning for them to follow. Inside, Julie quickly closed the door to keep the air inside cool.
“So, what brings you two here?” Oliver asked, settling himself into a chair. Again, he gestured for them to do the same. “How’s everything at the house? I’m glad it’s being used again. It has so much potential.”
“It does,” Julie agreed, although with slight trepidation. “I’m busy cleaning it up. It’s a nice house.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said, but his eyes looked into the distance now, lost in thought.
“We wanted to come say hi, and to thank you for letting us stay there.”
Oliver waved a hand. “You’re family, my dear. Of course I want you to stay there.”
“It’s just that…” Julie didn’t kno
w how to broach the subject. “There is something I’d like to talk with you about.”
Julie’s uncle locked eyes with her now, and he seemed very sad. “It’s about Tara, isn’t it?”
Julie nodded. “More specifically, about her murder.”
“I thought so. I was afraid to tell you, but it’s a small town, and word gets around, unless you’re very, very careful. What happened to Tara had the whole town talking for over a year.”
Julie took a deep breath. Better to just say it. “I think that Tara’s killer is still out there somewhere. I don’t think he was ever caught.”
Chapter 9
Oliver sat silent a moment, eyes frozen with shock.
“I’m sorry,” Julie said gently. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” She chided herself inwardly. There’s a reason he’s in a retirement home, you dummy. You don’t want to give him a heart attack or anything.
“No, no, Julie,” he said, recovering somewhat. “You’re not the only one who thought that. It’s just been so long. So long, but the pain of losing her never goes away.” Oliver slumped in his chair, looking like the tired and old man that he was. “What makes you think that?”
Julie explained to her uncle what she’d found in Tara’s room; the pictures and the diary entries. He listened eagerly.
“And,” she said, “Some of the diary pages have been torn out.” She stopped, feeling like an intruder into his personal and painful past. “I didn’t mean to pry, Uncle Oliver. I…well, I am living there now, and I was just curious. I didn’t really know what happened, until someone in town told me.”
“It’s alright,” he said wearily. “I understand.”
“Uncle Oliver, did you take those pages from her diary?”
“No. I remember the police asking me the same question. I didn’t take them. And I’ve always wondered what happened to them.”
“Huh. Do you think Tara would have ripped them out?”
“I really don’t have any idea,” he said. “She wasn’t good at hiding things. I knew about her boyfriend, Lucas. I didn’t say anything, because I thought he was a good kid. He was questioned, but he was so distraught that he wasn’t considered a suspect. And, he had a solid alibi.”
Julie mulled this over. Then she told him, “Her most recent diary entries mention she was afraid of a boy she called ‘D.’ It says she saw him watching her from outside her bedroom window. Did you know anything about that?”
“A boy outside her window? No, she never told me anything about being afraid, or of the boy. And, although the diaries were returned to me from the police, I never read them. I sometimes wish I had.”
“Tara also mentioned that you were gone the weekend of her death,” Julie tried to be delicate.
“It was a business trip,” Oliver answered bitterly. “It wasn’t even necessary for me to go, but I left her anyway. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret it.”
Julie didn’t want to overwhelm her poor uncle, but she felt he deserved to know her theory, especially if it turned out to be right. “The boy she wrote about in her diary, the one she called D, I have a suspicion that he was the one who killed Tara. Not Jacob Leigh.”
“It sounds plausible,” he agreed. “Apparently the police had no leads about that, or they would have told me. Do you have any evidence?”
“Just a hunch,” Julie answered, suddenly feeling foolish. She paused a moment, then asked, “Do you believe it was Jacob Leigh who murdered Tara?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. The verdict never seemed to fit in my mind, but, that’s why we have juries. And, I didn’t have any evidence to oppose his conviction.”
“I do feel bad about bringing all of this up,” Julie said. “But this feeling I have about it is so strong. You know?”
Oliver nodded. “If the person who really killed my Tara is still out there, I would want him caught.”
“I would, too.”
Oliver cocked his head and gave Julie a sidelong glance. “Are you interested in this type of thing? Investigating?”
“Yes, I am. I would love to get my private investigator’s license and start my own business. I’ve always been fascinated by mysteries and crime. And, this hits closer to home. Tara was family.”
Now he smiled at his niece. “Good for you. Always do what your heart leads you to do, Julie. And feel free to investigate Tara’s case any way you see fit. Just don’t get yourself into any trouble.”
“Thank you, Uncle Oliver. I won’t let you down. If there’s anything I can find out, I will. And I’ll try not to get into trouble.”
Julie’s uncle seemed tired, and they sat quietly a moment. It was a good thing Sam had been in the other room watching TV.
“I hope you two can come for dinner sometime,” Oliver said, “I’d love for you to visit me again. It’s peaceful here, but sometimes a little lonely for an old man.”
“Of course,” Julie said brightly, happy to change the subject. “We’d better get going, we have a ton of work to do today.”
“I appreciate what you’ve told me,” Oliver said sincerely. “I really do.”
Julie took her uncle’s hand. “I’m relieved to hear that. I was nervous about telling you.”
He rose now, and Sam appeared in the doorway. “Are we leaving?”
“Yeah, bud, you’re right on time.”
Oliver paged the Visitor’s Center for a driver to pick them up, and then walked them to his front door. “If you discover anything new, please let me know.”
“I will, for sure,” Julie told him.
Outside, they watched as the golf cart zipped up the street, stopping in front of the house. Julie and Sam both hugged their uncle goodbye, and then got into the cart. As they were driven back to the Visitor’s Center, Julie swore to herself that if her cousin’s killer was still out there, she was going to find him. No matter what.
Chapter 10
Over the next few days, Julie couldn’t help thinking about Jacob Leigh, and the possibility of his innocence. She wasn’t sure anyone would even believe her if she was right. She needed proof.
She still had Skye’s skeleton keys, and needed to return them. She also wanted to ask him about Leigh’s whereabouts, and if it were at all possible to visit him and ask him some questions.
Julie and Sam drove over to Dietrich’s Hardware Store and entered the old building. The place was busier today. Julie spotted Skye leaning against a counter, talking with a customer. She walked to the counter and waited off to the side. She knew he had seen her; however his eyes stayed fixed on the woman he was helping.
After a few minutes, the woman seemed to be satisfied with her purchase, and she gave Skye a hearty shake of the hand. She turned to leave, but noticing Julie, the woman eyed her up and down suspiciously, then walked briskly away.
“Thanks for waiting,” Skye said.
“No problem,” Julie said, staring after the woman. “Who was that?”
“That was Chief Langley. Town police.”
“She looks fierce,” Julie commented. She didn’t like the way the Chief had looked at her.
“And it’s not all looks,” Skye told her. “She can tear you a new one if you’re not careful.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Julie commented thoughtfully. She set the set of skeleton keys on the counter. “Here you go. Thanks again.”
“Did they work?” He asked, taking the keys and plopping them below the counter with the others kept down there.
“Yep,” Julie answered with a satisfied smile, “one of them opened the door.”
“Excellent. That’ll be ten bucks,” he said casually, as he took a rag and started wiping down the counter.
“Very funny,” Julie laughed. Then, her voice took a more serious tone. “Listen, I actually have something else I want to talk with you about. I need to find out some information on Jacob Leigh.”
The rag in Skye’s hand stopped abruptly. “Why would you need to do that?”
�
��It’s complicated,” Julie said vaguely. She hadn’t decided whether to tell him her theory, or about the diaries. In any case, this wasn’t the time or place.
Skye merely shrugged. “Well, the Chief would know more than anyone else,” he told her. “But she’s the kind of person you don’t want to cross, you know?” He gave Julie a curious look, and then continued. “She said she was going to the office to pick something up. You might be able to catch her if you hurry.”
“Thanks, Skye,” Julie said, and dashed out of the hardware store with Sam following.
The police department was only a block away from the hardware store, but she drove anyway, worried that Chief Langley would leave before Julie could have a word with her. She was already nervous from what she considered a dirty look from the Chief, but perhaps Langley was just stressed out. And, Julie thought to herself, she had to try.
They reached the station, and Julie pulled sharply into one of the parking spots, her tires screeching to a halt. She glanced over at Sam. “Do you mind staying in the truck, bud?”
“Nah, it’s cool.”
Julie jumped out of the truck and strode briskly up to the front entrance just as Chief Langley burst through the doors.
“Chief Langley,” Julie called out.
But Langley didn’t break her stride. “Whatever you need, you’re going to have to ask the receptionist,” she told Julie roughly.
“Please, it’ll only take a—”
“No.”
“It’s about Jacob Leigh,” Julie said in desperation.
The Chief came to an abrupt halt and turned toward Julie, face furious. The lines etched in her middle-age complexion had deepened into a frown.
“Who are you?” She demanded.
“My name is Julie Townsend.”
“And what business do you have with Jacob Leigh?”
“I want to talk to him, but I don’t know what prison he’s in.”
Chief Langley studied Julie before answering. Then she said, “He’s not being held in prison. He’s at McAndrew’s Psychiatric Hospital. Crazy fool deserves it, too.”
