Hems & Homicide

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Hems & Homicide Page 19

by Elizabeth Penney


  “That must have been difficult.” I sipped tea, hoping she would say more.

  “Yeah, well, we dealt with it. Gave him his own space. Moved in that trailer you saw. Fortunately he mellowed with age.” The corners of her mouth turned up briefly. “And a couple of jail sentences knocked the wind out of his sails.”

  I filed this information away. Anton would no doubt have access to the details about Alfie’s arrests and jail time.

  “I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around Star dying,” Mary Ellen said. “I wonder what became of her son.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Her son? Star had a son? “Are you sure?” I asked. “Grammie didn’t say anything about a child.” I shuddered. Was the baby dead too?

  Mary Ellen ran one of her braids through her fingers, over and over. “I never met him. He was already in a foster home when Star showed up here.” She shook her head. “She was hoping to get her life together so she could take care of him.”

  “And that never happened,” I guessed. My heart twisted with sorrow. The poor little tyke had lost his mother at such a young age.

  Madison made a soft cry, hugging the kitten close. “That is so, so sad. I hope a loving family adopted him.”

  “Me too,” Mary Ellen said. She continued to play with her braid, seeming to be lost in thought. “I might have a picture…” She went over to the bookshelves again, this time bringing back a cigar box. “After she left, I found this.” She set the small Polaroid square in front of me. It was faded but two faces were clearly visible. Star, clutching an infant in her arms.

  “Can we have it?” I asked. “I’ll give it to the police. Maybe they can find him.” At the very least, he should be informed of his mother’s fate, even if it was tragic. And we had pictures too, happy ones, and nice memories from Grammie and others to share.

  “Go ahead.” Mary Ellen picked up her cup and cradled it in both hands. “I hope it’s useful.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you two really come all this way to tell me about Star?”

  To stall, I lifted my own mug and drank. The tea really was tasty, even without sweetener. What could I say without fingering Alfie as a suspect? If we tipped him off, he might flee. A picture flashed into my mind, Alfie roaming the countryside in company with the pig and dog. The new Bards of Stratford. I took another hasty sip to hide a smile.

  Madison saved me, raising a point I’d neglected. “Anne—Iris’s grandmother—told us Star lived here. One of the most difficult things about this case is that we don’t know her real name. And neither do the police.”

  Mary Ellen accepted that with a nod. “I can see how that would be a problem. But I don’t know her ‘real’ name either. Many of our residents shed their identities when they joined us.” Her lips curved. “I used to be called Sunflower.”

  “Star didn’t leave anything else behind that might provide a clue?” I asked, even though I knew it was hopeless. Anything discarded by Star forty-plus years ago was likely long gone.

  “I don’t think so.” Mary Ellen was already shaking her head. “But tell you what, I’ll look around. There’s tons of old junk up in the barn and in the attic.”

  I pulled out my phone. “What’s your number?” I punched it in as she dictated it aloud, and a second later, a phone rang, buried somewhere in a heap of magazines and papers. Now I had a signal. Maybe Anton would get my text.

  “I’m always misplacing that thing.” Mary Ellen dug through the pile. “Here, take this flyer. It’s got my upcoming herb classes on it.”

  Without studying the page, I folded it and put it in my handbag, along with the picture of Star. “We’ve got to get back to town but thank you for the tea and the information about Star.”

  Mary Ellen had located her phone and was studying the screen through a pair of readers. “Keep me posted, okay? I’m so, so sorry to hear about Star. Let me know if I can do anything.”

  “We will.” To Madison, I said, “Ready?” She finished her tea with a nod and stood, still holding the kitten.

  “You forgot something,” I said, smiling.

  Madison went to gently set the kitten down. Then she hesitated. “I can’t do it. I just can’t leave her.” She turned to Mary Ellen. “Is the offer still good?”

  “Of course.” Mary Ellen grinned. “The best pets are the ones who choose you.” She tucked the phone in her jeans pocket. “Hold on. I’ll give you a cardboard cat carrier and the vet records.”

  I cheered. “She and Quincy can become besties, like us.” I reached out and touched the kitten’s fur. “Now you have to name her.”

  “Pixie,” Madison said after a moment. She held her up, crooning, “What do you think of that, baby?” She kissed the kitten on the nose. Pixie gave a soft mew in return.

  A few moments later, waving good-bye to us from the kitchen door, Mary Ellen called, “Keep my classes in mind. And feel free to spread the word.”

  “We’ll do that,” I promised. To Madison, I said, “Let’s take the road instead of the path through the woods.” I wasn’t sure we would be able to find the way back.

  “Good idea.” Madison still held Pixie in the crook of her elbow, the empty cat carrier dangling from her other hand. “The last thing I want to do is get lost.”

  We marched along the road, the blazing sun beating down on our heads. Every few feet, I glanced over my shoulder, watching for Alfie and his pets, bracing myself at every broken twig snap or rustle in the bushes. Mary Ellen claimed that Alfie had changed, that he wasn’t violent anymore. But what if she was wrong? And what if he had killed Star?

  My apprehension must have been catching, because Madison started doing it too. “You really think he’s harmless?” she asked in a low voice.

  I dodged a puddle but still managed to splash mud on my jeans. “I don’t know and I’d rather not find out.” The woods route must be much shorter, I figured. We were now descending a small hill and the car was still nowhere in sight.

  “Must be fun living out here in the winter,” Madison said. “I wonder if she uses a snowmobile.”

  “Either that or she has her own plow.” Except for the remote location, Mary Ellen’s setup was almost enviable, with its self-sufficient lifestyle and room to roam.

  “We must be on the right track,” Madison said a little later, pointing to a sign up in a tree. “Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow,” it read, and the next, a little way along, said, “Keep on Trucking.”

  “And so we shall.” I lifted my hair, trying to air out my perspiring neck. “If we ever get there.”

  Finally we rounded yet another corner and there was Beverly, waiting patiently for us. I wished now I had left the windows rolled down, at least an inch or two.

  “Hold on. I’m going to put Pixie in the carrier,” Madison said. While Madison wrestled the reluctant kitten into the box—all four paws extended—I pulled out the herb flyer for something to do. Above the list of classes and dates, a photograph showed eight smiling students holding certificates, Mary Ellen in her braids proud beside them.

  “There.” Madison closed the top. “I hate to do that, but it’s safer.”

  I studied the faces, to my surprise recognizing two people. “Madison—”

  A rustling in the bushes interrupted. Like parting curtains, branches swept aside to reveal a leering Alfie, the pig and the dog sitting at his feet like henchmen.

  “Hello, girls,” he said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Madison gave a shrill scream and clutched the cat carrier to her chest. I’d been fortunate to live to almost thirty without being accosted by a potentially dangerous man, but had often wondered how I would react. Now I would find out.

  This is not a drill. I let go of the flyer and reached into my handbag, fishing around blindly for a gift from Papa. Nope, keys. Ditto, brush. “I hope you never need this down in the city,” Papa had said, meaning Portland, “but better safe than sorry.” Aha. Lipstick? No, too big. With a cry of triumph, I pulled out th
e vial of pepper spray. It was several years old and probably expired but, hey, better than nothing. I hoped.

  “Leave us alone,” I said, holding the canister hidden in my hand. Hopefully he would get the message and back off before I had to use it. “We know all about you, Alfie.” I considered mentioning the police but I didn’t want him to flee before Anton had a chance to talk to him.

  Alfie held up both hands as he took a step out of the bushes. “I’m not like that anymore.”

  “Oh yeah?” I glanced over my shoulder at Madison and tossed her the keys. At a time like this, I wished I had electronic locks. “Unlock the car and get in.”

  She obeyed, scrambling over to the car and unlocking the passenger door. I began backing toward the car, unwilling to turn my back on the trio, especially when the dog growled.

  Alfie gave the dog a sharp command and he settled down. “I mean it, I was just being friendly. I don’t get many visitors out here.”

  “I bet.” I was almost to the car now.

  He made a few more protests then shrugged those huge shoulders and shambled away into the undergrowth, the dog following. But the pig stood there and watched me with beady eyes.

  “You too, porker,” I said. “So don’t even think about it.”

  With a loud snort, the pig turned and trotted off. I didn’t wait to see where he went. I turned and barreled for the car, throwing myself at the door Madison had unlocked for me. I slid behind the wheel, tossed my handbag into the back, and finally released the spray from my clammy fingers.

  The keys were already in the ignition. “Good girl,” I said. The car fired right up and I executed a hasty three-point turn, smashing the flyer into the mud. Oh well. Then I hit the gas and Beverly shot up the road as though fired from a cannon.

  “Woo-hoo,” I screamed, steering with one hand while I rolled down the window with the other. It was a sauna in here. “That was cray cray.” Elation at our escape bubbled up and I laughed out loud.

  Madison leaned against the locked passenger door, hair flying in the breeze, cat carrier on her lap, and regarded me with wide eyes. “When he popped out of the bushes like that, I almost passed out.”

  “Me too. Totally freaked me out.” I eased off the gas to navigate some massive potholes, big enough to swallow a tire.

  By the time we reached the main road, I had calmed down—and slowed down, to Madison’s visible relief. When my phone rang with a call from Anton, I handed it to her. “Can you take this? He must have gotten my text.”

  She held the phone in a limp hand. “Are you sure?”

  “I can’t talk while driving,” I reminded her.

  “Oh right. Hello?” She bit her bottom lip. “No, this is Madison. Fine. How are you?” Pink stained her cheeks. “Yes, we found Alfred Bevins. He’s living at the old Bards of Stratford commune.”

  Anton’s voice rose in volume but I couldn’t hear what he said. “Tell him we didn’t go there looking for Alfie.”

  She did, listened for a little longer, and hung up. She sighed. “That went well. He basically chewed me—well, us—out.”

  “Sorry.” I hoped putting her on the line hadn’t blown it for them. “I thought he’d be excited to know where Alfie is living.” We had reached the state highway and I turned east, toward the coast.

  “Oh, he was. But not in a good way.” Madison opened the cat carrier and peeked inside. “Not much longer, kitten. Hang in there.” She rubbed Pixie’s head and the resulting purr was audible even from the driver’s seat.

  “What are you up to the rest of the day?” I asked, thinking through my own to-do list. For one thing, I needed to sand and paint the displays waiting in the barn.

  Madison smiled. “Besides buying a cat box, cat food, and toys, you mean? I have some client emails to take care of. And I need to send back the contract for Sunrise Resort.”

  “That’s right. Congratulations on that, by the way.” I was genuinely thrilled for her, since the resort was her largest client to date.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you,” she said. “You’re still my favorite.”

  “Well, now that’s settled … Hey, you know that flyer Mary Ellen gave us?” I thought of the paper lying in the mud with regret. I hated to litter, even by accident. “Charlotte and Kevin Lee both took an herb class with her. There was a picture of them graduating from a course.”

  “Charlotte and Kevin? Huh. Maybe that’s how they met.”

  She was probably right, but I was more focused on their class attendance, which meant they were both interested in herbs. Maybe like jimsonweed, for instance. “Where’s Kevin from? Do you know?”

  Madison dug out her phone. “No idea. But I can look.”

  We cruised along the highway while she searched, traffic fairly light at this time of day. A few more weeks and the main roads would be jammed with vehicles every day, all day. Something to complain about, but also to celebrate. Visitors meant dollars.

  “According to the town Web site,” she said, “Kevin’s last job was in Augusta. He worked there about ten years. Before that worked in Bangor, went to University of Maine, blah, blah, blah. That’s it.”

  Not much to work with. All we actually knew besides career background was that Kevin had taken a class, and without the flyer, I couldn’t guess which one. He was probably a foodie or a locavore, like so many people these days.

  When we pulled up the farm driveway, Grammie and Quincy were sitting on the porch. Grammie stood and waved, then came over to the car as we were climbing out. “Would you like to stay for supper, Madison? We’re grilling burgers.”

  Madison kissed her on the cheek. “That sounds wonderful but I should get home.” She reached into the car and pulled out the carrier. “But look what I got today. Meet Pixie.”

  “Oh my. What a doll.” Grammie reached out for the kitten. “Can I hold her?” At her feet, Quincy stared up at the proceedings, tail twitching. He sensed a rival and was not happy about it.

  “Cut it out, Quince,” I said. “She’s only a baby.” He started to pout so I picked him up and gave him some love. While Grammie and Madison admired the kitten, I carried him to the porch swing, where we rocked back and forth.

  Madison soon drove away with a toot and a wave. After fetching glasses of iced tea from the kitchen, Grammie joined me on the swing. “How was your day?” she asked, handing me a frosty glass.

  I took a long swallow, quenching my thirst. “A lot happened. I’d better start at the beginning so I don’t forget anything.” She listened intently as I took her through the entire adventure, gasping at the reveal of Alfie’s identity and cooing over the picture of Star and her infant.

  “I had no idea she had a baby,” she said, studying the photo. “But she was awfully tenderhearted. I’m sure she would have been a good mother, once she grew up a little.” Her sigh was deep and sorrowful. “I wonder what became of the poor thing.”

  “I hope he wasn’t Alfie’s baby,” I said, that thought having just occurred to me. “He’s … odd. A little scary.” I relayed our encounter with the man before we left the commune.

  Grammie put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my. You faced him down?”

  “I sure did. And I would have sprayed him, if I had to.” Now that a little time had gone by, I wondered if I had overreacted. But what if he had attacked us? He was a big guy plus there was the dog and pig to consider, obviously his pets. Plus he should know better than sneaking up on people.

  “No harm done,” Grammie assured me with a pat to my knee. “You made it away safely, and I’m sure Alfie won’t dare bother you again.”

  “I hope not.” I had the feeling his creepy leer might haunt a dream or two. “Anyway, Mary Ellen was quite nice, and she’s going to see if anything of Star’s is still kicking around. Oh, and guess what? She’s Margery’s sister.”

  Grammie swirled her glass, making the cubes tinkle. “Small world. You said she was nice though.”

  It took a second but I got it. “Grammi
e,” I said, giving her an elbow. “You’re so bad.” I drank the last of my tea. “After supper, I’m going to start painting the shelves I bought. Maybe someday we’ll be able to open the store.”

  “Have faith, my dear.” Grammie stood. “If you start the grill, I’ll get the burgers from the fridge.”

  Most nights in warm weather, we grilled and ate outside. Tonight was our first cookout of the season, and while enjoying thick, juicy burgers and salad, we watched Quincy chase bugs in the grass.

  “Doesn’t get much better than this.” I wiped my fingers on a napkin. “After I load the dishwasher, I’m going out to the barn.” I stood and collected our plates and glasses.

  “I feel like sewing,” Grammie said. “Want me to whip up a pinafore for the store?” She opened the French door for me then grabbed the condiment tray.

  “That would be great.” I planned to make several but hadn’t gotten to them yet. “The pieces are already cut.” Grammie was an expert seamstress, so no doubt she could stitch one or two together tonight.

  Out in the barn, I arranged droplights over my work area. The barn was a great space to do projects but the lighting was poor and there were lots of shadows. I also opened the rear, west-facing doors so I could watch the sun sinking over the fields. What a gorgeous night.

  I inspected the hutch tops and bookcase, noting any repairs that needed to be made. They weren’t in bad shape despite how shabby they looked. I hammered a few nails that were sticking out and patched a couple of dings with putty. The advantage to paint over stain was I didn’t have to strip the wood. After a good sanding to remove the gloss from the finish, I could prime everything.

  Tonight I would sand, tomorrow prime and maybe get the first coat of paint on, depending on how long the primer took to fully dry. I loaded a sanding block with paper, put on a mask and safety glasses, and got to work. Quincy jumped up on a bench and supervised, soon snoozing off from sheer boredom.

 

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