by Sharon Pape
Lillian did as I asked, but she didn’t open the door all the way. I wondered why, until I heard “Hi Lillian, dear.” My aunt Tilly. My heart stopped for a beat before revving into overdrive. For a renowned psychic, Tilly had some lousy timing. Since she couldn’t see Norm and me from her vantage point, she kept right on talking.
“I know you’ve been under the weather, so I baked your favorite lemon bars and brought along some herbal medicine. Together they’re guaranteed to perk you right up.” If she knew I was there and in danger, she would never walk away. I caught Lillian’s eye and shook my head. Either Lillian understood or she didn’t want to put Tilly in harm’s way any more than I did.
“This isn’t the best time,” she said, her voice shaky. “Perhaps tomorrow?” She started to close the door, but I should have realized that Tilly on a mission was hard to dissuade.
“Nonsense,” she said. “I have precisely what you need. I won’t stay long.” She squeezed past her friend into the living room, freezing when she saw me with the gun on Norm. “Oh my,” she said, stumbling forward and nearly losing her balance as Merlin pushed his way in behind her. I wasn’t surprised. Wherever the baked goods went, the wizard followed. Froliquet scuttled in between his legs, sat up on her haunches and surveyed the scene with little marmot mutterings.
Norman took advantage of my split attention. He rushed me, grabbing my gun arm and wrestling the weapon out of my grasp. “Unhand that woman!” Merlin demanded as if he had the power of King Arthur to back him up. “Else I shall turn you into a grasshopper.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Tilly slam her elbow into his ribs.
“This place is a loony bin,” Norman said with a disgusted curl of his upper lip. “But I’m not leaving without my money. So if you staged all this nonsense to get out of paying me, Lillian, forget it.” Did he seriously think any of this had been planned? Froliquet must have finally sensed trouble. She let loose with a series of ear-shattering whistles.
“Make it stop that,” Norman snapped, menacing all of us with a sweep of the gun.
“It’s instinct,” Merlin informed him in a haughty tone. “She won’t stop if she feels her family is threatened.”
“You wanna bet?” Norman cocked the pistol. I had to get it away from him, before he hurt or killed someone out of sheer pique. I saw Lillian slip out the door. I didn’t want to think she was abandoning us to the hit man. Maybe she assumed he’d have no interest in us once she was gone. Seconds later, Travis marched her back inside, his face grim as he took in the room and its occupants.
“If you’re carrying, toss it down and kick it away,” Norman said. He seemed to have accepted the fact that this house was akin to a clown car, but with people pouring in, instead of clowns pouring out.
Travis put his hands up. “No weapons.”
“If I find any on you, you’ll be sorry you lied.”
“No weapons, no lies,” Travis assured him, backing away to stand near me.
I saw the realization bloom on Norman’s face that his one-on-one bullying of a defenseless woman had turned into more than he bargained for and possibly more than he could handle. “Everyone on the other side of the room! On the floor! Now!”
We all complied, but since the room wasn’t very large, the swath of floor between him and us was barely four feet wide—not much of a safety zone for him. If Travis stretched out his legs, they could reach the hit man’s feet.
Norman must have come to the same conclusion. We were too close for comfort. He needed more control. In a tone devoid of emotion, he threatened to eliminate anyone who moved. But he had to make an exception, when he realized he should take away our cell phones or someone might call 911. After we slid them across the hardwood to him, he reiterated his warning.
“Excuse me, Norm,” I called out, “I really need to use the powder room. It’s sort of an emergency—stress, you know.” I did my best impression of someone who couldn’t hold on much longer. He looked annoyed, but on the fence. “It’s right down the hall from the kitchen, and it has no windows,” I added to sweeten the deal.
“Okay. Just don’t get any ideas about attacking me or trying to escape. If you pull anything, someone you love dies. And you’ll have a front row seat for the execution.”
I thanked him and ran down to the bathroom like someone with an emergency and locked the door. I didn’t have much time. I cleared my mind the best I could, gathered the power in my cells and started reciting the spell, aiming for the moment in the living room just before Tilly arrived:
In time’s stream do I cast
From the present to the past.
Anchored here deep and strong,
While a tether holds me fast
For as long as I’m gone.
In time’s stream do I cast.
When I opened my eyes I saw with relief that I’d made it. I was holding the gun and it was pointed at Norman. The doorbell rang. I asked Lillian to answer it. My family trooped in. This time I didn’t spare them a glance. The hit man was watching me, waiting for a moment to spring for the gun. He ran at me, but before he could grab my arm, I pulled the trigger.
Chapter 36
The bullet grazed him a few inches above the knee. I’d aimed low on purpose. I didn’t want to hit a vital organ. I wanted to stop him from hurting anyone else, but I didn’t want to kill him and pay for it with the rest of my life. He collapsed on the floor, screaming and cursing, and trickling a few drops of blood onto Lillian’s area rug. Travis ran to my side and took the gun out of my hand. Until that moment, I didn’t realize I was trembling.
Everyone else was frozen in place. They seemed stunned by what they witnessed. Or was that confusion I saw on their faces? What if changing the past wasn’t seamless? What if people retained some memory of the way things had gone down the first time around? It was a little late to worry about it now, but I’d have to give the possibility some serious thought once my life calmed down. And preferably before I felt the need to pop back into the past again.
Travis kept the gun trained on Norm, in case he realized he wasn’t incapacitated. Having gathered her wits, Tilly joined us. “Do you think he needs a tourniquet on that leg?” she asked.
I’d gone most of my life without using the word tourniquet and here I was discussing it for the second time that day. “It’s a superficial wound. It’s barely bleeding anymore.” Norman’s screams had faded to a whimper. For someone who dealt out death with equanimity, he was deeply invested in saving his own miserable life. Maybe it hadn’t yet occurred to him that he was likely to be spending the remainder of that life in prison.
Although I had promised Brett I’d try not to call the police, we were well past that option. As much as I liked Lillian, I’d heard enough to know she hired Norman to dispose of Genna and Tony for the parts they played in her son’s death. She bulldozed right over the presumption of their innocence and a trial by their peers. She must have known there wasn’t enough evidence to convict either of them, so she decided the only possible justice for Scott had to come at her own expense, both literally and figuratively.
Once Norman and the gun were no longer in charge, Tilly, Merlin and Froliquet made themselves comfortable on the couch, and Lillian sank into one of the wingback chairs, her expression a combination of relief and resignation.
Before I could ask Lillian one of the many questions on my mind, the front door flew open again. Our heads all snapped in that direction like synchronized robots. Who else felt so much at home they could barge right in without bothering to knock or ring the bell?
Charlie Desmond, Scott’s older brother, appeared in the doorway. I hadn’t seen him since Scott’s funeral. Ten years had aged him. His hairline had receded; lines creased his forehead and bracketed his mouth. He stopped where he was, staring back at us and just as perplexed to see us there. “Mom?” he said.
In the wingback chair she was partially
hidden from his view. She rose at the sound of his voice and emitted a strangled sob as he rushed over and gathered her in his arms.
“Are you okay, mom? I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. What happened to Brett? He was supposed to be here with you.” Had Lillian issued an all-points bulletin when Norman arrived? How many other people knew about her contract with the hit man? My head was spinning with questions.
“I’m all right,” she said. “Kailyn came to my rescue.” She turned to me. “But I don’t understand how you knew I needed help.” After I explained what happened at Tony’s house, Lillian slumped down on the edge of her chair. “Poor Brett. What a horrible mess I’ve made of things. It all seemed so simple at first.”
Charlie hunkered down beside her and took her hands in his. “Mom, don’t say another word until we get an attorney. Do you understand?”
She nodded. The bravado that had seen her through the encounter with Norman had left her diminished. Her ramrod straight shoulders were curved inward, her determined chin drooped to her chest. She was curling in on herself like a hedgehog.
Charlie turned to me. “Thank you. You may have saved my mother’s life. If there’s ever anything I can do…”
I held up my hand to stop him. “Don’t Charlie, by the time we leave here, you won’t be feeling so grateful.” I nodded to Travis, who already had his phone in hand.
“No, no.” Lillian cried, springing out of the chair with renewed vigor. “Charlie has to make the call. He has to be the one who turns me in—I beg you.”
I nodded to Travis, who put his phone away. Lillian released a wobbly breath. If Charlie called on a cell other than his own, it would raise eyebrows. Charlie took out his phone, looking like it was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. Before he dialed, I asked him to hold off for a minute. Lillian and Charlie exchanged bewildered glances. Travis frowned at me. “I want to speak to Lillian first,” I said.
I took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen. I wasn’t worried that she’d try to get away. This was her endgame and all that mattered now was protecting her loved ones. “How did you discover that Genna and Tony were involved in what happened to Scott?” I asked.
“I listened to what people said at the funeral and when they called and came to visit me. Little by little I put the pieces together. Maybe the police didn’t have enough of what they call hard evidence to get indictments on those two, but over the past ten years I’d become convinced they had a hand in taking Scott’s life.”
“I promise to keep anything you tell me confidential, but I need to know more.”
“Were you aware Genna didn’t come to Scott’s funeral?” I nodded. Genna didn’t like funerals, so I’d chalked her absence up to the fact that she and Scott hadn’t really been friends. “She never reached out to me in any way,” Lillian continued, “not even with a sympathy card. On the other hand, Tony was at the wake and the funeral. He came to visit me a number of times before leaving for college. His concern for me was touching, but it was over-the-top for someone who played such a bit part in Scott’s life. Guilt works differently on different people.”
“Is that all?” I pressed her, wanting to understand what had made her confident enough that she could take justice into her own hands.
“I listened to what people said, all the gossip. Where there’s smoke there is always fire, Kailyn. Even rumors are wrapped around kernels of truth.”
“Why didn’t you come to me? You know I would have listened to you even if the police wouldn’t.”
Lillian gave me a tolerant smile, the kind you might accord someone who believed the world was flat. “But how would you have changed the fact that the necessary evidence didn’t exist?” she asked.
I had no answer. I considered pointing out that even if Genna and Tony were involved somehow in what happened to Scott, it was still an accident. They didn’t kill him, and there was no reason to believe they ever meant him any harm. But it was clear that regardless of what I said, Lillian wasn’t going to see things differently. She needed someone to blame, someone to punish.
“It’s time,” Travis called out to me. He was right. I could talk to Lillian for another three hours and nothing would change. We walked back into the living room, and he nodded to Charlie who grimly punched in 911.
Chapter 37
Merlin suggested holding what we had come to call our investigation wrap-up dinner at the lake. I usually tried to be flexible, but this time I used my veto power without a second thought. It might have seemed like the most logical place to celebrate the conclusion of the case, because it had started there ten years earlier with Scott’s death. But that fact alone rendered it unthinkable for me.
When Tilly explained this to the wizard, he said he understood, but he walked off grumbling that people of the twenty-first century needed to grow tougher hides. In the end, I chose to hold the dinner in my house or backyard, depending on the weather. Mid-September in New Camel could feel like late summer or a harsh brush with fall. Scott and I had spent so many innocent, joyful hours playing here as children, it didn’t matter if we held the wrap-up inside or out. And I decided the dinner should include a memorial. Travis seconded the plan. Tilly swung into action, delegating and baking.
The day dawned, gray and brooding, the temperature just shy of sixty. When it wasn’t actively raining, the raw dampness permeated everything, creeping deep into the bones. Travis got a good fire going in the living room and pulled me out of the kitchen to show me the product of his labor. “Did I ever tell you that you’re good to have around?” I asked.
He grinned. “Once or twice, but it never gets old.” He drew me into his arms, my back against his chest so that we were both watching the flames. Standing there with him warmed my body and my spirit. I would have been content to remain there for hours, but there were things to do before my guests arrived.
“Can you keep the fire going so we can enjoy it after everyone leaves?”
He brushed my hair away to kiss the nape of my neck. “I promise, even if I have to chop down the old oak in your yard for the wood.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Some boy scout you were. Don’t you know you can’t burn wood when it’s green?”
He shrugged. “I figure you can come up with a dandy little spell that will age the wood in no time. One of the perks of dating Merlin’s greatest granddaughter.”
I turned so that I was facing him. “You could be accused of being too glib,” I said, planting a leisurely kiss on his mouth. He tried to tighten his arms around me, but I ducked under them and scooted back to the kitchen.
I set the dining room table for seven. Although Elise hadn’t been as involved in this investigation, I considered her part of our team as well as my extended family. Besides she was still seeing Jerry the dentist and he was good company for Travis, especially if Elise, Tilly and I got to chatting about girl stuff. I couldn’t count on Merlin to talk work, the stock market or sports, at least not the kind of sports that would interest Travis. Elise’s son Noah was coming, but her older son Jake had plans with his girlfriend. Time changes everything, but that was as it should be.
Tilly and Merlin were the first to arrive. The wizard carried the large crock-pot of beef stew, with carrots, potatoes, and green peas bobbing in the gravy. My aunt carried the chocolate cake and peach and blueberry pie. Elise brought her veggie lasagna, as well as vanilla ice cream to pair with the desserts. Travis was in charge of the hors d’oeuvres that included his signature guacamole, stuffed mushrooms and pigs in blankets as requested by Noah and Merlin.
I was responsible for the memorial portion of the dinner. I didn’t want it to be heavy-handed, so I made poster boards with photographs of Scott at every stage of his short life. I made Genna a board too. It was impossible to know how big a part she may have played in the accident that caused Scott’s death, but I’d known her almost as long as I’d known him.
They were both good people, inextricably woven into the fabric of my life.
I sorted through hundreds of photos in the big storage bins where Morgana had stored them. Many of the pictures included other people who were also dear to me—Bronwen, Morgana, Tilly, and their once upon a time husbands, including my father. A teenage Elise had made it into a few of them as she was my babysitter way back when.
Every couple of hours, Travis offered his help, but I declined it. The work was cathartic for me. I laughed and cried and said my private goodbyes, before climbing into bed at two thirty in the morning. The next day I set the poster boards on easels in the living room. If anyone wanted to look at them, they could, but there was no requirement to do so.
When we were gathered around the table, there was enough warmth and laughter to make us forget the dismal weather outside. Merlin immediately helped himself to the stew before passing it on to Noah. According to my aunt, he tried to sneak a taste when it was cooking and received a few hearty swats with a spatula for his efforts.
“When do we get to hear about the case?” Noah asked, adding under his breath that he couldn’t believe Jake was going to miss this one. The boys had enjoyed learning the whys and wherefores of each case, along with the kind of personal details Travis and I could provide that often didn’t make it into the news, even when Travis was the reporter. Some details were better kept in the family.
“Any minute,” I said, waiting for the talking and clanging of platters and utensils to die down. When I opened the floor for questions, Tilly’s hand shot up.
“Why didn’t Lillian ever tell Scott he had an identical twin?”
“Because she didn’t know either, until Brett showed up at her door after Scott’s funeral. The biological mother, Susan, had just lost her husband in Afghanistan when she found out she was pregnant with twins. She already had two young children and felt she couldn’t care for two more babies on her own, so she put one up for adoption.”
