by Diane Weiner
Emily felt her fight or flight hormones kick in. If she ran, Arturo could only get either her or Henry. If he chased her, Henry could get back to the inn and call the police.
To Emily’s surprise, Henry said, “Let’s go. Lead the way.” Why was he so trusting of Arturo? All along he didn’t believe he was the killer. She still wasn’t convinced.
Wondering with each step whether or not she should run the opposite way, she hoped Henry’s instincts were correct. She put one foot in front of the other until they stood at the outside doors to the cellar.
“Follow me.” Arturo started down the steps.
Emily whispered to Henry, “This isn’t a good idea.” Ignoring her request, Henry proceeded down the steps after Arturo and motioned her to follow him into the blackness.
“I’ll show you what’s in the bag,” said Arturo. He flicked on the overhead light, stinging her eyes. He opened the bag. “Come on.”
Henry reached in and pulled out a handful of its contents. “It’s food. Cut up vegetables, bread, cheese.”
“Those are the leftovers from dinner service. They’d go into the trash. I take them to the homeless community over by the river every night. Otherwise, those people would go hungry, especially in the winter. It’s bad enough it’s freezing and they have no medicine when they’re sick.”
“What about the money?”
“I give them a few dollars when I can. It’s not much, but it buys blankets from the Goodwill store, and used clothing.”
“Does Coralee know you’re stealing from her?” said Emily.
“Stealing? Of course she does. You’re friends with her, right? You know how caring she is.”
Henry said, “I had a hard time buying you were a drug dealer, but you’ve got to admit it looked convincing.”
Emily said, “So that’s why you snuck out of the inn the night of the murder and returned an hour later. The police have you on CCTV. Why didn’t you tell them you’d left that night instead of saying you were in your room all evening before going to the bar?”
“I didn’t think they’d believe me, and I forgot about the surveillance cameras. Coralee gave me a pot of stew to bring that night. She’ll vouch for me. And the police can question any one of the homeless people.”
“Arturo, you’re a good man.”
“And you’re most certainly not Faith Maguire’s killer.”
Chapter 17
The next morning, Emily went for a run around the lake. Arturo wasn’t the killer, in fact, quite the opposite. He was helping those homeless people live. Back to the drawing board. She had a hunch about Rona. If she killed her own parents to get the house and turn it into a bed and breakfast, surely she had it in her to knock off Faith Maguire and cripple the competition. Then again, there was nothing definitively tying Rona to the inn the night of Faith’s murder. The wet mulch on the galoshes set off a red flag in Emily’s mind, but Megan said she checked Rona’s alibi and she was at a friend’s house, just as she claimed.
“Emily? I didn’t know you ran.” Jessica Pratt pulled her ponytail tighter.
“I do this route several mornings a week. I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before this.”
“This is a new route for me. I generally stick to the roads, especially when the weather is bad. I do a few miles before work a couple of times a week.”
“Speaking of work, I hear Mila Maguire is back at school. How’s she doing?”
“Not as badly as you’d imagine. She talks a lot about her father. I think he’s been a big comfort. Tilly, the housekeeper, has been keeping tabs. She emails me every night to see how Mila’s day went.”
“I’m glad she bonded with her father. Ava said Mila rarely got to spend time with him when they lived in Georgia. Has she had any more seizures?”
“She’s only been back a few days. So far, she’s been fine. How’s Maddy?”
“Good. She’s in the finals for the science fair. You should come to her school Friday night and see her project.”
“She told me about it. Sam and I will be there.”
“Sounds like you and Sam are a couple.”
Jessica shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, kinda. We’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks. Time will tell.” She looked at her Garmin watch. “I’d better get going or I’ll be late to school. I’ll see you Friday. Tell Maddy I said hello.”
“Will do.” Emily shivered. Being sweaty, then standing still in the cold air was a sure way to get sick. Speaking of sick, she wondered how long it would be before she heard back from the breast center. They said a couple of days. Nonetheless, she’d continually checked her phone messages since the moment she left her appointment.
As she came around the bend, she spotted Kurt and Prancer. Like Maddy said, Kurt walked Prancer at certain times of the day like clockwork. Being regimented herself, it’s no wonder she often ran into them during her morning runs.
“Morning, Emily.”
She reached down to pet Prancer, who responded by licking her. “I’m a cat person, but boy has Prancer made me think about getting a dog. I just love him.”
“Man’s best friend. With Chloe away, he’s the only family I’ve got.”
“Why are you carrying a tool box?”
“Trent, the man who lives across the lake from us, has a rental cabin that needs a few repairs. I told him he could borrow my tools.”
“Do you have a new tenant in Chloe’s cabin yet?”
“Nah. This time of year it’s hard to get renters. I’m hoping Chloe stays for the summer. Good thing I don’t need the money like Trent does. He was lucky finding a tenant in the middle of winter but the guy already moved out.”
“Kurt, do you know anything about cars?”
“I know how to drive them.”
“Not what I meant. If someone had the right tools, could they learn how to cut the brakes or mess up the steering by watching a video on YouTube?”
“You what?”
“Never mind.” I’d better get back. Take care, Kurt. Bye, Prancer my love.” She kissed Prancer on the top of his head.
When she got back to their cabin, Henry and Maddy were eating breakfast.
“Maddy, I saw your sister by the lake this morning. I didn’t know Jessica ran.”
“I know she goes to the gym all the time.”
“She said Mila seems to be doing okay at school. Her father has been a comfort.”
“Yeah. He’s only been here like a week but Ava’s crazy about him and she said Mila clings to him and Tilly.”
“Thank goodness those poor girls have people who love them and will help them through this.”
“Was Sam with Jessica?”
“No, why?”
“She said he barely lets her out of his sight. They work together, and then he pops up at her house at random times like he’s checking on her.”
“Really? She said they’d only been together a few weeks.”
“I know. That’s why it’s scary.” She grabbed her backpack. “Gotta go. Bye Dad.”
“Have a nice day.”
After Emily heard the door close, she said, “I don’t think she should be wearing those ripped jeans to school. The teachers are going to think we don’t buy her clothes.”
“I’ve seen her friends wear the same ripped jeans. I think it’s the style. I’m proud of you for not hassling her about it.”
“Like you said, you’ve got to pick your battles. I hope she wears one of the nice dresses I got her for Christmas to the science fair. The local paper will most likely be there taking pictures.”
“I can see the headlines now. Daughter of Emily and Henry Fox shows up at science fair in ripped jeans. Hope they don’t sic the Department of Child and Family Services on us.”
“Very Funny.”
“They’ll be more interested in the projects than what the kids are wearing. You have to trust Maddy more.”
Emily’s phone vibrated. She jumped, as she did every time the phone rang
since her appointment at the breast center.
“Who’s calling you so early?”
She peeked at the screen. “It’s my editor. She knows I’m an early riser.”
“I’ve got to get going.” He kissed her and grabbed his bag on the way out.
“Hello? So it’s a go? Terrific. I’m already starting research on my next project. Thanks.”
Yes! Now she could act on the urge to run with the Rona Smyth story. Convinced in her gut but cautious nevertheless, she had to assess the feasibility before investing a lot of time. How much did Rona know about cars and what were her movements in the days before the accident? How did she react to the news her parents were dead? Had she prepared ahead of time to open the inn—before she knew the house was soon to be hers? If she could prove Rona not only killed her parents but also Faith Maguire? That’d be a New York Times best seller for sure!
She poured another cup of coffee and settled down with her notes. She began sketching a timeline—Rona at cooking school, tampers with baking contest, Rona opens a restaurant, restaurant burns to the ground, Rona moves back home, Rona’s parents die in suspicious auto accident, Rona turns family home into bed and breakfast…She jumped when the phone vibrated. Deep breath. She slowly turned over the phone to see the number. Not her doctor.
“Maddy? What’s wrong? You’re in school, right?”
“I forgot my permission slip for the science fair and it’s due today.”
“I signed that last week.”
“But I left it home. Look on my desk or on the floor by my bed. Can you drop it off? Please?”
“Sure. I’ll bring it to the front office.”
Emily went to Maddy’s room, where Chester was sleeping in the middle of the bed. She looked on the desk—graded assignments, an agenda, a paperback library book…No permission slip. She bent down and sorted through the pile on the floor next to the bed and easily located the permission slip. Before she stood up, Emily noticed something under Maddy’s bed. She pulled out a stack of letter-sized envelopes held together with a hair tie.
Normally, she would have respected Maddy’s privacy. This time, her daughter’s safety had to come first. The return address? Chicago Penitentiary! She pulled out the first letter.
Dear Maddy,
I’m glad you didn’t throw this out without reading it. I’m sure by now you’ve received word that I am your biological father. I want you to know that though I’ve never met you, you are a part of me and the door is always open for you to write back or even visit….
Emily cringed. The nerve of this man! And why hadn’t Maddy told them about this? There were several more letters in which he discussed his likes, dislikes, hobbies, medical history. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. How could the prison allow these to be mailed? She would contact them immediately and put a stop to this.
She was about to leave the room, when she noticed something on Maddy’s desk. It was an envelope addressed in Maddy’s handwriting to her father at the prison. She felt herself turn pale. She looked at the notebook lying open on Maddy’s desk. So far, she’d written and crossed out ‘Dear Dr. Lipton’ five times. Nothing else. Maddy was writing him back!
How was she supposed to handle this? She could Google ‘how to stop your teenage daughter from writing to a convict.’ Right. It sounded like the subject of a Dr. Phil episode. Hmmm. Should she consult a therapist? She wanted to yell at Maddy and shake some sense into her. Knowing that was the wrong choice, she was glad she had time to digest it without Maddy being there. She called Henry and explained what she’d found.
“Em, I doubt she was intending to answer it without talking to us first. She must feel very confused. We should talk to Jessica and see if she’s been getting letters.”
“Good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Did you notice dates? How long has she been getting these letters?”
Emily sifted through the postmarks. “They’ve all been sent within the last few months.”
“I’m going to talk to the police. He’s harassing a minor.”
“Can we get the prison to block him from sending these?”
“It worries me that he got our address in the first place. I’ll see what the police say.”
“Okay. I have to drop off Maddy’s permission slip on my way to work. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She ran a brush through her hair, dabbed on some lipstick, and headed to the school.
The school office had more security than Fort Knox. All she wanted to do was drop off the permission slip, but she found herself waiting behind another parent. The woman at the counter examined and copied down that parent’s license number, had the parent sign a clipboard, took a photo, slapped on an ID badge…
While she waited, she saw Sam, huddled in a corner near the door, ear to his phone.
“Next. May I help you?”
“I just have to drop off this permission slip for my daughter.”
“If they forget something at home, you’re not supposed to bring it in. Otherwise, with no consequence, they don’t learn responsibility.”
She bit her tongue and calmly said, “It’s for the science fair. If she doesn’t turn it in today, she can’t participate.”
“The woman grumbled, then called into Maddy’s classroom.”
“Should I wait?”
“No. We’ll get it to her. Next?”
Sam was still on his phone. If this school was anything like St. Edwards, phone service was spotty in places. She supposed that’s why Sam had come up here to make his call. He whispered into the phone.
Wondering if Sam’s secretive tone and guarded body language meant he was cheating on Jessica, she stood still behind one of the artificial trees flanking the office door.
“Yeah, the obstacle has been eradicated. We can move forward. I can add to my initial investment only if you can guarantee it’ll be operational in time for the next school year. I’ve got another potential investor on the hook. Okay, then.” Sam tucked the phone into his pocket just as the bell rang.
*****
Henry hadn’t sat down all morning. He was about to go to lunch, when the EMTs rushed in with a man whose hand was bleeding through the gauze it’d been wrapped in.
“What happened here?”
“Man was doing repairs on his rental cabin and the saw slipped. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t lose that hand. People shouldn’t try these do-it-yourself fixes when they don’t know what they’re doing. Spend the few bucks and stay safe. It should be a public service announcement.”
“You know I’m not unconscious and can hear what you’re saying, right?” said the man on the stretcher. “You think I’m gonna lose my hand?”
Henry said, “Let’s not panic. Let me get a look at it.”
The EMT helped Henry get the man settled in a cubicle before leaving. Henry looked at his patient and said, “What’s your name?”
“Trent Adams.”
“Tell me what happened, Trent?”
“I had a tenant who just moved out. Guy was there only one month. He lost his deposit, but still I depend on the rent to get by. I got a lead on someone wanting to see the place this weekend and had to get over there and repair a few things.”
“With a saw?”
“The door frame had rotted out in spots so I was making a replacement.”
Henry examined and cleaned the wound. “We’ll get some films and I’ll call in a consult. At first glance, looks like you’ll just need some stitches. Are you up to date on your tetanus shot?”
“Yeah. Had to get one last year when I put that nail through my finger. Thanks, Doc.”
A nurse called Henry over. “We have a little girl who’s been vomiting. She has a history of seizures. The father’s with her.”
Henry recognized Mila right away. “Hi, Mila. Do you remember me?”
“We ate dinner with you the night my…the night Mommy died.”
“
That’s right. I’m going to help you feel better. Tell me what hurts. Your tummy? Your head?”
“I don’t know. Everything.”
Henry turned to the father. “When did this start?”
“We’d just eaten breakfast and I was about to drop her off at school when she said she didn’t feel well and ran into the bathroom.”
“How many times has she vomited?”
“Just that once, but she says she feels like it’s going to happen again. She gets seizures.”
“What are these seizures like? Do they start with vomiting?”
“I don’t know. I shared custody with her mother but more often than not there was some reason I couldn’t see her. The past few months, I haven’t seen her at all. My wife trumped up false accusations and the court rescinded my visitation rights.”
“Mila, do you feel like this before you get your seizures?”
“No.”
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
“I ate some cereal, but then my tummy started hurting.”
“It hurt after you ate the cereal?”
“It started hurting when I woke up and got dressed for school.”
Henry said, “Is it hard going to school since your Mommy died?”
Mila started crying.
Dave Maguire hugged her. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to go to school if you’re not ready yet.”
After Mila’s sobs subsided, Henry said, “How many times did you throw up?”
“Well, I didn’t throw up. I felt like I was going to throw up.”
“That’s not what you told me,” said Dave Maguire. He turned to Henry. “She said she threw up and I was worried with her history and all.”
“Your wife said she had problems with dairy. Maybe the milk in the cereal…”
“Problems with dairy? The girl guzzles a bowl of ice cream every night for dessert and I haven’t seen any issues. Mila, do you get sick when we eat ice cream?”
“No, Daddy.”
Henry said, “Mila, do you still feel sick, or do you think thinking about school made your tummy hurt?”
Mila didn’t answer.
