Scraps of Paper
Page 28
*****
A few days later Abigail and Frank once again were on the porch swing discussing things. The finale of the Summers’ murder saga had come out the day before in the newspaper and now everyone in town knew the whole truth. John Mason had strangled Emily Summers and, with Edna’s help and silence over thirty years, had buried her in a shallow grave. Edna Summers had poisoned her parents long before Emily’s death, and then poisoned her niece and nephew to get them out of the way, for the house and the inheritance money. Mason had killed Edna thirty years later because he was sick of the blackmail and he’d sped along his ex-wife’s death because she would have exposed him as Emily’s long ago lover and, thus, possibly tied him to the murders.
“What a monkey’s paw of deceit, greed and murder. Now we know what befell all of them, as heartbreaking as it is. Abby, you solved the mystery. You are Jessica Fletcher. A younger Jessica anyway.”
She laughed. “Oh, I solved it all right with a lot of people’s help, yours included and Mason’s actual confession.”
The police had caught John Mason getting on a plane at the airport a day after he’d tried to hurt Abigail. Coming out of hiding, he’d made a beeline for Mexico. Living was cheap down there. He hadn’t made it and was now in jail. Once in handcuffs, all the years of guilt, Edna and Norma’s recent murders, must have broken him. He’d confessed and was resigned to paying for what he’d done.
“After all he did to hide his crime over the years. The blackmail and lies. And killing two more people. To just come clean like that was a surprise,” Abigail said.
“Emily told him to confess, I heard he told his lawyer that from his jail cell. Yep, he’s nutty as a peanut.” Frank shook his head. “At least it’s over. I pray now Emily and her two children can rest in peace.
“And now it’s also time to get on with our own lives, Abby. We need to move on. It’s been an interesting summer.”
“Hasn’t it?” she remarked. “I found a new town, new home, new life, friends, a new career–and we helped three restless spirits find peace in their graves. Well, really five restless spirits. Oh, then there was Edna and Norma.” She was counting on her fingers. “Seven. Not bad for a summer’s work.”
“Okay, you can quit patting yourself on the back.”
“Will there be a trial, you think?”
“It’s doubtful. Mason’s lawyer says he’ll probably cop a plea. Mason doesn’t want to go on trial. He doesn’t want to be put on display as a murderer, even if he is one. He can’t stand the humiliation. And it turns out he isn’t well. Once he was behind bars, they discovered he had a bad heart…as well as seeing and talking to people that aren’t there.”
“Now that’s ironic, isn’t it? A bad heart?”
“That’s a fitting description of the real John Mason, I’d say.” Frank shifted on the swing and as Snowball ran across his lap he caught the cat and began to pet her.
“Good as any, I suppose,” Abigail said, taking the cat from Frank and placing her in her own lap. The kitten had grown to twice its original size since Abigail had taken her in. She’d learned to scratch at the door when she needed to go out and would throw herself at the outside screen door when she wanted in. Her idea of knocking.
“I could almost feel sorry for him. He’s got to live with what he’s done and he’ll most likely be in prison for the rest of his life.”
Frank shook his head. “I don’t feel sorry for him. He got what he deserved, albeit three decades late, but better late than never. Emily and her kids will be dead forever and they didn’t deserve to die like that. And killing Emily directly led to those two poor kids being done in by their aunt. Edna might never have had the nerve to poison them if their mother hadn’t already been dead. It left them unprotected. No, Mason’s got a lot to atone for. I hope Emily pesters him for the rest of his miserable life. In prison. In the dark. With no windows. Like a grave.”
“Yeah…and I hope Emily, Jenny and Christopher leave me alone, but I haven’t dreamed of them since the day I learned the truth.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
She released a deep breath. “It’s good. Though I did rather enjoy solving their mystery. Following the clues. Doing something worthwhile. It was exciting and I’m going to miss that. Now everything has gone back to normal. The usual. Cleaning house and paying bills. B-o-r-i-n-g.”
“Nothing is boring in Spookie, Abby. You know what they say…life is full of mysteries.”
“And murders? Heaven forbid. I’ve had enough of graves, dead bodies and hidden murderers. Besides I have my new commission to keep me busy.”
“The job from the town painting a picture of the courthouse?”
“Yep, and for big bucks. If they like it I’ll get a second commission to draw the City Hall as well.” Abigail’s face, in the shadows, was smiling. “The money will keep me in groceries and pay my bills for months. I won’t have to take a job at the local Wal-Mart for a while. I’m ecstatic.”
“I bet you are. And I’m ecstatic for you. I like my friends to be successful and prosperous. Makes me look better.”
The swing’s chains creaked, punctuating the moaning of the wind. “Frank, talking about successful friends, have you heard anything else about your book?”
“I have. I was just going to tell you. My agent called this morning and she thinks she might have it sold to a small publisher. There’s not much of an advance. It won’t make me rich, but it’s a start and I’ll be published. Saying it out loud is hard because I still can’t believe it. I wasn’t going to talk about it yet, but–”
Abigail threw her arms around Frank and gave him a hug. “I knew you could do it! I’m proud of you. I want one of your first copies, hot off the press. Signed, of course.”
“You’ll get it soon as I get mine.”
“You’ll have to learn how to act like a published author and start going to those writers’ conventions and everything. I can’t wait. Road trips! Can I go along?”
“We’ll see. It hasn’t been published yet. Then I’ll need lessons on how to autograph, how to look humble, and how to escape from droves of fans. That’s the important parts of being an author, or so I’ve been told.”
They both laughed. Frank leaned over and when their lips met, the kiss just happened. She found herself kissing him back then pulled gently away. She couldn’t mistake the feeling between them. It was love. New, fragile and promising. A little too soon for her, she thought. Or was it? Joel had been gone to her for over two years. Two years was a long time. She kissed Frank again in the twilight and afterwards they held hands.
“We’ve been invited to Martha’s house Saturday night to play cards and listen to music,” he said. “Snacks provided. You busy Saturday night, Abby?”
“Now I am.” She hadn’t forgotten Joel. She’d always love and remember him. It was just that she had to embrace this new life of hers, leave the past, some of it, the sad and unchangeable parts, behind. She wanted to fall in love again. She wanted to be alive again because life was short and precious and you had to live it every moment. Every moment you had.
The silence which settled between them was comfortable as they pushed the swing. After a time they talked about taking a motorcycle ride the next day if it didn’t rain. Snowball was sleeping, a purring ball of fur in Abigail’s lap, and the night had become chillier.
Beyond the dark trees Abigail thought she heard Jenny and Christopher’s laughter. She hadn’t told Frank, but yesterday she’d found another scrap of paper tucked in a crack deep in the corner of the kitchen cabinet where she stored her dishes. She couldn’t understand how she’d missed it earlier. Unless she hadn’t been meant to find it until then. The only words on the note, in red crayon, had been:
Mom says were leaving. No more mean boyfriends, no more mean Aunt Edna. Me and Chris are so happy. At last. Goodbye bad times! Hello, posterity!
And it’d been signed with a large J and a C.
The note had made Abigail
sad and happy at once. It must have been written before Emily had been killed and the kids had become so ill. But it was the last time she’d feel sad for the dead children and their mother.
For now, surely, the ghosts were at peace.