by Leigh Perry
Chapter Twenty-One
I’d decided that Madison deserved a treat after helping with our reconnaissance mission, so I’d already told Phil not to expect us for dinner. Instead we went to Frontera Café, my daughter’s favorite Mexican restaurant. The place is always loud, and the booths had high partitions separating us from the neighboring diners, which meant I could put Sid on the table so he could participate in the conversation as long as he was careful. Mostly he played on his phone while Madison and I ordered and ate, but he appreciated the gesture.
Madison and I were halfway through our burritos when Sid, speaking much too loudly for discretion, said, “Oh my spine and femur!”
I looked around to make sure nobody had noticed. “Inside the bag voice, Sid.”
“Sorry,” he said at a lower volume. “I was looking at Madison’s pictures, and I found one of all the locks.”
“Yeah, I was going to show those to Aunt Deborah,” Madison said.
“She may have already seen them. The label says they were donated by Mrs. Margo Nichols.”
“Nichols? As in the Nichols house?” I asked.
“The one and the same. I bet you a vertebra that those are some of the locks Deborah helped open.”
“Keep your spine to yourself—I agree with you.”
“Is that important?” Madison asked.
“Probably another piece of our Christmas Miracle,” Sid said in a tone that made it obvious he was capitalizing the words.
“I don’t think it qualifies as miraculous—we already knew the house’s contents had been left to Bostock. It would have been more surprising if the stuff hadn’t been at the museum.” Then I remembered something. “Didn’t Deborah say that the executor hired cleaners? What if they brought in a cleaning crew from the college? Including Annabelle! That would be how she knew the house was empty and available for squatting.”
“And why is that important?” Madison said.
“It may not be,” I said. “It may mean nothing at all. You should know by now that lots of our most exciting epiphanies go nowhere, and this might be one of them.”
“On the other hand,” Sid intoned solemnly, “this could be the epiphany that breaks the case wide open.”
I waited for more, but when he didn’t go on, I said, “Coccyx, Sid, don’t leave us hanging! What have you figured out?”
“Nothing. I was just saying this could lead us somewhere.”
Madison and I simultaneously started shaking the sugar skull bag despite Sid’s protests. It was the closest we could get to thunking his skull under the circumstances.
He started berating us as soon as we got into the car and unzipped the bag for easier conversing, but as Madison told him, he deserved it for teasing us.
“Anyway,” she said, “I don’t know how you two put up with so much effort for so little progress.”
“This one is particularly frustrating,” I admitted. “I don’t think we’ve ever been this long without having a viable suspect or two. Or at least a motive.”
“We’ll get there,” Sid said airily.
“Any ideas for next steps?” I asked.
“Now that we’ve seen Bostock and the museum, I’m thinking about the Nichols house.”
“It’s a shame I never snuck in when I was a kid,” Madison said. “I might have seen something useful. But Aunt Deborah went inside.”
“That’s right,” Sid said with a noisy finger bone snap. “She should be able to tell us if Annabelle was on the cleaning crew, too.”
“What time is it?” I asked.
Madison said, “Just after seven.”
“I’ll call her now. Madison, can you dial your aunt for me and put her on speaker?”
She did so, and Deborah answered. “What do you need, Georgia?”
“I’m here, too, Aunt Deborah,” Madison said.
She softened her voice considerably. “What’s up, kiddo?”
“Me too,” Sid said.
“Anybody else? Mom, Dad, the dog?”
“No, just us,” I said.
“Fine, then what do any or all of you need? I’m at bowling.”
“Sorry, I forgot it was bowling night.” I should have recognized the flavor of noise in the background. “We’ve got some pictures we want to show you to see if you recognize the person in them.”
“I’d ask why, but I probably don’t want to know.”
“I can email them to you right now,” Sid said.
There was a pause. “Yeah, it can be hard to see stuff on the phone. Georgia, why don’t you come down here to show me, have a drink or something?”
“Sure, I can do that. I’ll drop Madison and Sid off at home and then head over. Be there in half an hour or so.” After I hung up, I said, “Sid, when we get home can you print more of those pictures of Annabelle?”
“I’ve already got copies, but why doesn’t she just look at them online?”
“I’m guessing that she wants to talk about something. Maybe she wants me to go in with me on a present for Mom and Phil. You want to come with?”
“No, thanks. Madison and I have a Runes of Legend session tonight.”
“Homework?” I asked my daughter. “Dog?”
“One chapter to read, and I’ll take Byron out for a walk before I touch my computer.”
“Good enough. You two have fun storming the castle.”
I stopped at the house just long enough to take a bathroom break, tell my parents where I was going, and get the pictures of Annabelle. Though it would have been easier to send the photos to Deborah electronically, I didn’t really mind getting out again. It was a clear night, just cold enough to make one think holiday thoughts, and perfect for admiring the twinkling of Christmas lights as I drove down the four blocks that made up Pennycross’s downtown. Even the bowling alley felt festive, with colored lights reflecting against the tinsel garland hung everywhere imaginable, including places that had to be getting in the way of the employees.
I saw Deborah sitting at lane eight in her purple-and-black Pennycross Paralyzer team shirt and waited for her to finish yelling at one of her teammate’s last pins to fall before saying, “Hey.”
“Don’t sit down. As soon as I bowl this next string, we can go get something to drink.”
“Nice to see you, too,” I said, but honestly, I wasn’t offended. Deborah isn’t what one would call a touchy-feely person, but she’s always there when I need her. Sometimes she mocks me thoroughly after she helps out, but I was used to that.
I nodded at the other Paralyzers, which included both Louis Raymond and Oscar O’Leary. Deborah and Louis had been on the same team for years, but Oscar had only joined after the three of them began their dating dosey doe. I looked at the score and saw that Louis was ahead for the game, which explained why he was smiling and Oscar wasn’t.
Deborah sighted carefully before striding down the lane to release her ball. Then she calmly stood, awaiting the strike that resulted. She tried to keep her poker face intact as she walked past her teammates and returned their high fives, but I saw a smirk slip out.
“Georgia and I are going to get something to drink,” she announced, and I followed her to the snack bar.
My sister got a beer, but since I intended to drive home before too long, I stuck to Diet Coke.
“I’ve got a few minutes before I have to bowl again,” she said. “Have a seat.” There were half a dozen orange plastic laminate benches and tables by the snack bar, and Deborah picked the one that gave her the best view of her team’s progress.
“You don’t have anybody in that bag, do you?” she said, eyeing my backpack.
“No, Sid was busy. Besides, he gets claustrophobic in this bag.”
“How does a skull get…No, I don’t need to know. What did you need to show me?”
“I’ve got a couple of pictures of a woman, and I want to see if you recognize her.” I handed her the three photos Sid had printed.
She studied them one by one. “She looks familiar.”
“You’re sure?”
“What kind of joke could I make with ‘she looks familiar?’ Wait, don’t answer that. I’m sure you’ve got a bone pun already queued up. But yes, she looks familiar.”
“Do you remember where you know her from?”
Deborah looked for a minute longer, then shook her head. “I’m not sure. Who is she?”
“Sid and I are pretty sure that this is the woman whose body we found at the site of the Nichols house.”
“Louis said they haven’t identified her yet.”
“As Sid said the other night, we have sources the police don’t.”
She sighed loudly. “Please tell me you’re not withholding evidence from the police and especially not from my boyfriend.”
“We don’t have any evidence, just hearsay and speculation.”
“Hearsay and speculation that you’re pretty sure are true.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Deborah knew I was holding back, but to her credit, she didn’t push. “Anyway, we’ve been trying to find a way to link this woman to where her body was found.”
“The Nichols house.”
“Right, at least where the Nichols house used to be.”
“I mean that’s where I know this woman from. She was part of the cleaning crew at the Nichols house.”
“I knew it!”
“If you knew it already, then why did you ask me?”
“Okay, I didn’t know for sure, but I was hoping we were right. What can you tell me about her?”
“I met her over ten years ago, spent some time with her over the course of one week, and never saw her again.”
“Deborah, how long did it take you to pick your first lock?”
“Twenty minutes, thirty-seven seconds.”
“What kind of lock was it?”
“Mul-T-Lock.”
I looked at her, eyebrows raised, until she got my point.
“Fine. I have a good memory.” She took a long swallow of beer and stared at it while she thought. “Okay, I think I told you Mrs. Nichols left the contents of the house to Bostock.”
“Right.”
“So the school sent out a bunch of students and custodians to help with the sorting and the cleaning. Not that they did that much cleaning once they realized the house was going to be demolished. Still, a lot of the stuff we brought out of the house needed to be cleaned. As in dusted, dirt scraped off, and in some cases, disinfected.”
“And you’re sure this woman was there?”
“No, Georgia, I made it up just to mess with you.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, this woman was one of the cleaners, not a student. I’m trying to remember her name. Amy, Annie, something like that.”
“Annabelle?”
“That sounds right. I noticed her because when she’d bring a locked box for me to open, she’d wipe it off first. Most of the others would just dump it on me, no matter what crud it was covered in. I talked to her at lunch, too.”
“What about?”
“Locks, hoarding, antiques, the stuff we’d found. Then when I saw the way the students were treating her, we compared notes about people who think they’re better than you are because of your job.”
I paused. “Do I act like that?”
“Jeez, Georgia,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do you think I’d have let you live this long if you didn’t show me respect? Not to mention the fact that you let your daughter work with me, which says everything that needs to be said.”
For Deborah, that was almost sweet.
She went on. “Some of the students were okay, but some of them were real snots, if you know what I mean. One day Annabelle was showing me a decorated glass cup she said was made in Venice, explaining how glassmakers back then were required by law to stay on a nearby island. Not that I asked, but it was interesting. Then one of the snots came by and asked how she knew what it was. He didn’t say because you’re just a janitor out loud, but that’s what he was thinking. Then he tried to take it from her. Not asking, mind you, just grabbing. Except he kind of tripped over my foot.” She grinned. “You know that annoying babysitter we had, the one who used cutesy talk?”
I made a face. “All too well.”
“I imitated her to tell brat boy that he better not try to carry it because he might drop it and break it.” She snickered. “If looks could kill, you’d be an only child.”
“Good for you.”
“Anyway, about the only other thing I remember about Annabelle is that she was a hard worker.”
That was solid praise for her. “Thanks, Deborah. I should probably let you get back to your game.”
She looked over to check the progress of the game. “Wait here a minute. I won’t be gone long.”
She went back to her lane, made another strike, accepted the customary accolades, and returned.
“Georgia, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” She looked at my backpack again. “You sure Sid doesn’t have something in there to listen in with?”
“Don’t worry, he’s back at the house gaming. All of him.” I thought maybe she wanted to talk about a present for him, but I wasn’t even close.
She said, “I heard that Brownie Fenton is back in the picture.”
I hadn’t expected that. “I’ve run into him a couple of times. How did you know?”
“Oscar knows one of the security guys over at Bostock, who said he saw the two of you making out at that hamburger place on campus.”
“We were not making out. It was two kisses, no tongue. They were practically Sid-like.”
She shuddered. “Don’t try to distract me. Are you seeing him again or not?”
“He said something about dinner, but we haven’t set a date.”
“Do you want to see him again?”
“Quite a lot.”
“Then why did you break up with him before?”
“We didn’t break up. Not exactly. We had a disagreement, and we needed some time to cool off.”
“What did you fight about? Pardon me, what did you disagree about?”
I cocked my head to look at her. “Deborah, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times you’ve asked about my romantic relationships. Why the sudden interest?”
“I just think Brownie is a good match for you. I didn’t care about the other guys you dated.” Before I could respond to that, she said, “You two fought about Sid, didn’t you?”
“Since Brownie doesn’t know about Sid, that’s not exactly possible.”
“Yeah, but you fought because he invited you somewhere, and you wouldn’t go because of Sid.”
“If you know what the problem was, why did you ask?”
“I just want to make sure you know what the problem is.”
“Sid isn’t a problem.”
“Sure he is.” She held up one hand to forestall my retort. “Everything about a person can be a problem. Your daughter would be a problem if Brownie wasn’t willing to be a stepfather. Your job would be a problem if he didn’t respect academics. Byron would be a problem if he was allergic to dogs. Anything in your life can be a problem if you or he make it one.”
“And I suppose you have a suggestion on how I can make Sid not be a problem?”
She shook her head. “I only open a locked box—you’ve got to look to see what’s inside yourself.”
“That’s an interesting metaphor.”
“You don’t spend your life around English nerds without learning your way around a metaphor. So what are you going to do about Brownie? He won’t wait around forever, you know.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” I said. “You’ve got two guys waiting for you.”
“That’s different. I don’t know if I want a serious relationship, let alone marriage, and until I decide, there’s no reason to pick either of them. Y
ou, on the other hand, want to be married.”
“I do?”
“Georgia, you got engaged in grad school, knowing how hard it would be to start a life together in the middle of all that, and even though he turned out to be the wrong guy, you’ve never stopped dating in hopes of finding the right one.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I look at what Mom and Phil have and I want that for myself. I just don’t know if Brownie is the right guy.”
“For what it’s worth, I like him.” She drank down the rest of her beer. “Good talk. See you later.” Then she went back to her game.
I didn’t notice the Christmas decorations on the way back through the bowling alley or as I drove back home. I was thinking. My sister really had opened a metaphorical locked box for me, and now I had to look for a real-life answer.
Chapter Twenty-Two
On Thursday, I had plans to eat lunch with Mom and Phil at McQuaid before Mom and I went Christmas shopping. With Sid’s help, I’d found out what games would be a good match for the new Switch I was giving Madison, and Mom wanted me to go with her to make sure she bought the right ones.
Either I was running a little early or they were running a little late because neither parent was at the Campus Deli when I got there. I saw Oscar sitting at a table by himself, and went to say hello and poke at him.
“Hello, Oscar. I would shake your hand, but somebody might think we were arm wrestling or Kung Fu fighting or something. You know how things get exaggerated.”
He choked down a bite of his ham sandwich. “Look, Georgia, I didn’t mean to say that you and Brownie were doing anything untoward. I know a guy who works security there, and he was just patrolling—which is his job—when he saw you two eating together, and he mentioned it to me. That’s all I told Deborah.”
“Then how did Deborah get from our eating at the same table to ‘making out?’”
“My friend might have mentioned kissing.”
“Uh huh.”
“It wasn’t a secret or anything, was it?”
“We were in a public place where I’m known, and apparently so is Brownie. Of course it wasn’t a secret. I just never cease to be amazed by how quickly gossip travels between campuses.”
