Practicing Murder

by Unger, Erin;

  It was so good to hear her cousin’s voice. Really, she was more of a sister. “Can’t wait to see you. It’s been too long.”

  “I know. With all of us scattered around the east coast it’s hard to make it home at the same time.” She choked a bit. “Can you pick me up? I get in around 10:00 AM tomorrow morning.”

  “Sure. I’ll be there. It’s the station in Hartford, right?”

  “Yep. Couldn’t get a direct route to town. When are the others due in?”

  “By tomorrow night. Devin’s taking a plane. No matter what we say.”

  “Whatever.” Papers shuffled on the other end.

  Maddie didn’t want to hang up the lifeline. “Couldn’t you take that test when you go back? I wouldn’t want you to fail…with everything that’s happened.”

  “I just want to get it over. Then I won’t stress so much while I’m home.” She cleared her throat. “That’ll be enough to deal with. Hey, did you hear Aster’s thinking of taking over Mom’s new business?”

  Maddie moved to the dining room and plunked into a chair. “No.”

  “Well, she graduates a week after you, and she’s planning on going straight home to start figuring out the business.”

  “I’m kinda glad to hear it.” Aster’s degree would be in business. All Aunt Lonna had worked for wouldn’t be a total loss then.

  “I better go. Class starts in fifteen minutes.”

  “OK.” She played with a string on her sweater. “Love you, bye.”

  She stared at the phone for a full minute.

  She better leave the stress of the trapped house and go to town.

  “Hey.”

  Maddie jumped sky high, heart in her throat. “Mom. Don’t scare me like that.”

  “Sorry.” She drew the words out. “I forgot something, and a client insisted on seeing it.” She headed to the kitchen and reached into the fridge to take out a bottle of water. “The security guys aren’t here yet?”

  Maddie followed her and put her full weight against the island. “They’re scheduled to be here around two. I was just headed out.”

  “Oh, you’re going to be back, right? I can’t deal with them today. I’ve got a showing at eleven, closing on another house at one. Oh, and walk-thru right before that—”

  Maddie held up her hand. “I get it. I’ll be here.” No way was she admitting she didn’t want to be home alone in the meantime. “Jocelyn should be here in the morning. The others by tomorrow night.” She moved closer to her mother. “Why didn’t you call and tell me the funeral is scheduled for Sunday? I thought it was going to be on Monday.”

  Mom put the bottle down. “I did. Check your phone.”

  Maddie pulled her cell out. One missed call. She must have left it on vibrate. Turning the volume up, she watched the screen. No other texts or Facebook messages. “Look, I want you to take Saturday off. We need you around.” She rubbed the smooth surface of the granite. “And there’s a lot to do between now and then to get ready for the luncheon after the funeral.”

  “I…don’t know if I can. You know it’s busy this time of year.”

  “Mom,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “You have to.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows. “Madeline.” Her own form of threat. “I can’t. End of story.”

  Her hand went to Mom’s wrist. “You will.”

  Her mother grumbled under her breath then squeezed the bridge of her nose. “All right.”

  That was just a sad excuse. The real reason was that Mom couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—cope with the loss of her sister.

  Mom wrenched her arm free.

  Maddie let her go.

  “I have to get back to work.”

  Maddie didn’t get a chance to say good-bye as the door slammed.

  The woman had a lot of nerve. Maddie glared at the ceiling.

  Forget it all. Time to get out. But first find a weapon for defense.

  Where should she look? Devin’s room would be the most likely place to find something of use. She headed up the stairs and to the end of the hall. In his room, she took great care in not invading his privacy too much. A dulled samurai sword hung from a string. She pulled it down, studied the steel blade, and then re-sheathed it. Another sword rested behind the door. Too bulky and, yet again, dull.

  Maddie closed one eye as she opened a desk drawer. Where was his pocket knife collection? She put her hand to her chest. Phew. Right drawer, first try. She looked through the assortment. Even a pink one lay among the masculine knives. She pulled it out. It was small enough to fit in her pocket. She switched it open. Good. Quick sling back. She rubbed her finger across the blade. Very sharp. With it closed, she pushed it into her pocket.

  It took her a few minutes to find her purse. She slung the strap over her shoulder and pulled the journal out of the box in the living room.

  In the garage, she checked every possible hiding spot she could think of before driving down the driveway. No matter how hard she worked to settle down, jumpiness kept her at full awareness. This stunk. She had a new appreciation for victims of stalkers.

  She drove straight to her favorite restaurant with a small dining area and parked as close to the door as possible. Her fingers pried loose from the steering wheel one at a time. She eyed every passerby before she could force herself out of the car. She fingered the knife, checking its exact location to be sure she could grab it fast if need be.

  The journal barely fit in her purse. She stuffed it in as carefully as she could and then threw open the restaurant door. A bell tinkled, and the aged owner looked up with a smile.

  Maddie took a backseat in the bright orange booth with a Formica tabletop. Ten thirty was a little early for Greek pizza. She breathed in the basil and oregano herb fragrance, so famous in their sauce. But her dry mouth and lack of appetite weren’t working with the delicious aromas.

  The owner called from the stool by the cash register. “Sorry to hear about your aunt.” The sorry sounded like ‘sewry.’ “Free drinks on me.”

  “Thanks.” She cleared away the moisture in her throat and buried her face in the menu, even though she had it memorized. It didn’t deter her that the menu’s plastic sleeve had sticky prints on it. The best pizza place was the best. Flaws and all.

  The Greek woman smiled. “Your usual?”

  She dropped the menu into the holder against the salt and pepper shakers. “Sure.”

  The woman called the order to the back of the restaurant and returned to the crossword puzzle she had on the counter.

  Maddie pulled out the journal. She flipped to the first page. The date read July of the previous year. Nine months ago. Would it be better to start in the back? She twisted her mouth to the side.

  A refrigerator hummed somewhere in the open kitchen area. If only the homey comfort of the restaurant would calm the chaos within her. Maddie turned to the last page. The paper at the back of the book was brown, the ink faded. She couldn’t make out the last few pages. She kicked the ground a few times. There wasn’t a break from it all. Not one break.

  When she got to the first legible page, Maddie bent low and ran her finger along the words. Aunt Lonna had beautiful handwriting. It was a list of addresses.

  What were they for? Doctor’s offices, contacts for the business, old friends? OK, flip the page and go back further.

  The previous page was clearer. She went back yet another page to try to get the context. All the words at the end of the page were burned out, making it hard to read.

  I met with Marcy today. She wanted all the details on the catering quotes…hate to admit but…haven’t had time to get them. She said I signed…so I better get on top of it. I don’t need the stress right…

  Maddie skimmed through some of it. Apparently, Aunt Lonna had a tiff with one of the other reunion organizers.

  There were a few paragraphs about the new business. The trip to Chicago to meet prospective investors had been weighing on Aunt Lonna, and she’d wondered if she was making the right ch
oice.

  Maddie looked up. Aunt Lonna must’ve worked out her hesitation. She was super happy about the outcome of the trip when Maddie’d talked to her just before her return flight.

  By the bottom of the page, the burn marks no longer skewed the writing.

  She continued to read.

  Note to self: Check these addresses. I don’t know what he’s up to but something’s not right. I thought K. had other intentions. Now what?

  Who was K.? She skimmed more pages. Nothing else about a K. jumped out. Why couldn’t people say what they meant? Why frustrate sneaky readers with code words and such? It’s not like any of Aunt Lonna’s kids were ever home or would dare read the thing—yet here she was trying to decipher it.

  Apprehension snaked up her spine. Was it a dumb move to even think about checking the addresses? Thumbing her fingers on the table, Maddie played with the idea. Her aunt hadn’t seemed afraid of looking into them, so should she be? Could the stalker have ties to the addresses, or was it something unrelated? Were they actually tied to some type of sabotage of the reunion?

  The addresses couldn’t wait. With a thump, she sat back against the booth seat. She should call Joze. Even if he hated her right now. But hadn’t she just been telling herself she wouldn’t ask him for help under any circumstances? Anyway, he was probably at work. And they weren’t exactly on speaking terms after the God conversation. Not after she shoved him out the door.

  Without another thought, Maddie yanked her phone out and searched his number. Ten seconds later, staring at it hadn’t solidified a decision whether to call him or not. She shook her head and hit the green phone symbol and scrunched her eyes closed. It was better to apologize and be safe then go alone.

  Was this conversation going to have to come with an apology? She winced. When it went to voice mail, Maddie didn’t know if she should be relieved or not. “Hey, Joze. This is Maddie. Uh, you probably figured that out. Um, I found some addresses in the journal. I’m going to check them out.” She rattled off the first one. “I thought you might want to come, but you must be at work or something.” She bit her lip. “So I’m headed to one of them. Just wanted you to know. I’ll be careful.”

  Her shoulders sank almost to the tabletop as she hung up. Maddie had to do this for Aunt Lonna.

  The owner rounded the counter carrying Maddie’s pizza on a metal cooking sheet. Maddie raised her forefinger. “Can you make it to go?”

  The woman waved. “No prob.”

  Maddie whisked the box out of the woman’s hand and thanked her again a couple minutes later. At her car, Maddie surveyed the street and parking lot and hurried to lock her doors.

  She put the first address in her phone. A Hartford address. Her GPS zoomed to the location. She squirmed. Danger at home. Possible danger scouting out the addresses. Give or take, it didn’t matter which one she chose. But at home she was a sitting duck. Hartford was a good twenty-five minutes away. She checked the time.

  She put in the other two addresses. One was semi-local. The other one was also in Hartford. Might as well drive into the city. She might even have time to see both locations. What about waiting for Joze to call back? But if he was working, he could be gone all day.

  Maddie flew down Route 384. Traffic was light for the time of day. The gloom must be keeping people in. She searched for any vehicles that could be following her. Too many were the same color or similar make. How would she know? There didn’t seem to be a pattern to any of them. A tow truck and ambulance worked their way west also.

  The GPS talked to her the whole way. Stay in the left two lanes. Move to the right lane. Exit in one point two miles. Stay on 84 West.

  Traffic slowed as she entered the city. Victorian houses began to look more and more dingy. Peeling paint became the norm. Her shoulders went up with each passing street crossing.

  Maddie glanced down to see if her doors were locked. The button was fully depressed. She sighed and looked from left to right.

  The trash began to build up on the sidewalks and down the streets that crumbled away from the main roadway.

  Then a few drops of rain splotched on her windshield.

  The next four street corners were covered by a motley crew of people hurrying to their destinations under the gray skies.

  The light turned green. Maddie put her foot on the accelerator, eyes trained on one of the men. A loud bang rang from the front of her car and she stomped the brake. She looked out the windshield into the squinted eyes of a woman, her hair standing straight up four inches, her cardigan holey and from the seventies. The woman pushed a bike across the street, its basket full with a trash bag. Maddie shivered and ran a hand through her hair.

  Just as she pushed the accelerator again, the GPS seemed to shout. “In point two miles, turn right at the next intersection. The destination will be on your right. 164 Draper Street.”

  This was not a bad idea; it was the worst. Maddie didn’t dare stop when she made the turn, but she slowed to a crawl. Trash pickup day must be today. Big, ugly green cans were so full, they couldn’t possibly be lifted and dumped into the compactor when it came by.

  “You have reached your destination.” She sucked in a breath. Yikes.

  A three-story Victorian in three shades of neon paint glowered down at her. Smoke billowed from the chimney running up its side. Three levels of porches sagged across the front.

  She pulled to the curb and stopped, grasping the steering wheel for dear life. Maddie hunched down to get a better look. Someone moved from the top porch back into the house.

  She pressed her purse to her chest as she scanned the area. The other houses were more tired than run down, not like the neon mess in front of her.

  With shaking hands, Maddie put her phone in her left pocket and stepped out of the car. Music blared from somewhere across the street.

  An old lady, at least in her eighties, sat forward from a decrepit couch on the porch next door. She stuck her finger in her mouth and pried at something, never taking her eyes off Maddie. Should Maddie wave? She drew herself up to her full five-foot four inches. She put her fingers up in a kind of wave. The woman stopped picking her teeth but didn’t return the gesture.

  Maddie turned back. What shade of green would you call the second level? And the Purple on the bottom? Grape.

  Someone was on the third-floor porch again. A man with unkempt hair and an oil-stained T-shirt leaned over and watched her, a cigarette in his hand. She hurried up the broken walk.

  Five apartment numbers graced the frame of the door. The journal had said apartment 3D. Maddie held her breath and walked through the front door that hung on one hinge. Something scurried away. Please let it be a Chihuahua.

  The guy from the third floor darted down the stairs and skipped the last couple steps. “Hello.” He walked right up to her. “You need somethin’?”

  She backed to the wall, hand going to her pocket. “I…I—”

  He placed a hand on the wall by her right shoulder and took a long look at her physique.

  Why had she been so dumb as to come alone? She begged the bile in her esophagus to stay down. Vomiting all over this guy would probably bring her death quicker. Keep control. Don’t pass out. Todd’s face shimmered before her eyes.

  She gulped a breath. “Please back away. Now.” Not a convincing tone. “I mean it.”

  He moved closer not further away, and breathed his dank breath on her.

  “I was wondering if anyone here had seen a woman.” Her voice quivered. “My aunt.” She took a shallow breath. “I have a picture. I…can show you.”

  He blinked. “Someone like you comin’ up in here alone? I don’ know about that.”

  He looked away. Maddie bolted to the left and pulled the knife out of her pocket. It wouldn’t flick open as it had at her house.

  He returned his dull eyes to her. “Where’s your purse?” He scuffled his feet and looked around. “Hand it over.”

  Banging and screeching shuttered through the house. Ma
ddie dared not turn to look at the open door on the far end of the hall from where the sound emanated.

  “Yo, George, who ya talkin’ to?” The rough voice of a woman stopped his movements. He recoiled, shoulders back. The innocent look on his wide face must not have worked. “Let me talk to the lady.”

  Maddie turned enough to keep him in her sights but also to see who was talking. A woman, about ready to burst with child, pushed a lopsided stroller to the side of the hall. The squealing and banging ceased. “Hey, can I help you?”

  Maddie shoved the knife back into her pocket. “I don’t mean to bother you but, I’m looking for—” If she said ‘information’, everyone might take her for the law and run. “I wondered if you’d ever seen this woman before.” She pulled up her photo gallery on her phone and clicked on Aunt Lonna’s picture.

  The soon-to-be mom grasped the phone. Maddie couldn’t hold onto it as she moved away with it. “Nope. Don’t recognize her. Is she with the Ladies Benevolent Fund? They were here tryin’ to give stuff to Eddie in 2B.”

  “Um, no.” Maddie followed the lady to the back where she squinted at the picture in the light of the doorway. She breathed in fresher air—a little less men’s locker room fresh.

  “Follow me. Eddie might know.”

  For being so pregnant, the woman took the stairs like an athlete. Maddie hurried to keep up. She almost touched the thick, carved railing but noted the grime encasing it. At the second floor, the woman barreled down the hall. “Hey, Eddie. Got a question for you.”

  The walls must be as thin as paper. He opened his door and peeked out. “Whatta you want, Beth?”

  She plunged the phone through the opening. Maddie fought an urge to wrestle it away as it passed to Eddie. She clutched her hands together.

  “Nah.” His smoke-stained fingers, caked in something black, held her phone. Maddie resisted a gag.

  Beth pilfered the phone from him so fast he almost dropped it in the exchange.

  Her guide turned down the hall and headed back the way they came. She dropped Maddie’s cell into her hand. “RoRo might know about your lady. He’s not here.” She winked. “Business and all this time o’ day.”