by E. M. Moore
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, smiling. “I don’t remember you being like this.”
The smile slipped from my face. He didn’t mean anything by it, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t sting. I was well aware that I wasn’t the person I was before I lost Derek. I tried to smile, but it wobbled a little. After clearing my throat, I forced the next words out. “Things change, I guess.”
If they knew the war that was going on inside me, they didn’t let on. Except, I caught a look between the two I didn’t care for. It reminded me of when I walked in on Jackson and Mel whispering.
“How was work?” Mrs. Ward asked Jackson.
“It went well,” he said. “I think we’re making real headway.”
“Did you get the forensics back?” I asked.
He nodded. “Nothing. A partial, but it’s basically useless.”
“That’s too bad.”
“What about your interviews with John and Troy?”
“Mom…”
She gestured toward me. “You answered Maddie’s question.”
“Only because there wasn’t much to say.”
“Oh, come on. Who are we going to tell? If you talk it out with us, it might even help you solve it.”
“I have officers and a chief I can do that with.”
“Sometimes a fresh perspective is helpful.”
“Fine.” He sighed heavily. I was surprised he’d given in that easily. I was prepared to give him a long speech about how awesome librarians were at finding answers to questions. “I’ll tell you both. Only because I know I won’t get any peace if I don’t. I’d like to have a relaxing dinner, but it’s basically impossible with you two.”
“Two?” I scoffed. “What did I do?”
He shook his head and looked toward the ceiling. He mouthed some words and then shoved lasagna in his mouth before swallowing and peering at us. “Please keep this between us. If it gets out, I could get in trouble.”
I couldn’t help myself. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Oh, how like all of Salem knows the library has inadequate security? Now all of Salem’s crimes will take place there. It’ll be the crime hub thanks to you.”
Jackson shot me a look, but ignored me. “Turns out Troy and John made the agreement before George Sanders was murdered. All the signatures were dated the day before the fundraiser. The only reason we’re finding out now is because Troy Levine’s secretary sent the paperwork to the clerk to be processed. Stella at the clerk’s office gave me a head’s up. She thought it might be useful information.”
“Is it?” I asked.
“Could be,” Jackson said honestly. “We’re still putting the puzzle pieces together. Things aren’t making sense where they lay now. I think we’re missing something important, but when we find that something out, everything will fall into place nice and smoothly.”
“Do you think one of them did it?” Mrs. Ward asked. “Troy or John?”
“It’s possible,” Jackson said, shrugging. His gaze wandered off. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Troy was unruffled, but then, he usually is. He said he’d been trying to buy out John for a portion of Sanders, Inc. for a long time. When John came around, he jumped at the opportunity. He alluded that he was planning on buying out Sanders at some point, too. Strategy wise, that would have been the next logical step.”
“Who owns George Sanders’ portion now?”
“Sandy.”
I nodded at all the new information. “And John? What did he have to say?”
“He was a little more ambiguous. His reasonings don’t make sense as to why he decided to go through with the sale now. He seemed a little on edge.”
“Well, his business partner of many years just died,” Mrs. Ward supplied. “I’d be on edge, too.”
“He was acting funny at the fundraiser too,” I offered, taking a bite of my lasagna.
Mrs. Ward and Jackson turned their stares on me. “You… Wait. What?”
“John Williams,” I said. “He was acting funny. I went up to talk to him at the fundraiser. I thought maybe I could convince him to also cut the library a check, and not just his partner. He was sweaty,” I remembered. “I didn’t think it was hot in there. Did you?” I asked Mrs. Ward. “In any case, he was completely uninterested in all the nice statistics I put together about the library.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but Jackson interrupted her. “You didn’t tell me any of this before.”
“I didn’t think it was important. Is it?”
He closed his eyes, brought his palms together, and held his fingers to a point in front of his nose. “It could be. Why didn’t you put it in that write-up you printed out for me?”
I looked around the table. Both Mrs. Ward and Jackson were staring at me, waiting for my answer. I was starting to get testy, the feeling about to overflow. “You only asked me when I’d seen George Sanders last, the elevator, and about my guests. Besides, I didn’t even really remember until right now.”
“Did he act nervous?”
“Yeah. Nervous, sweaty. He was kind of gross, actually. I remember wondering if I should turn the air up.”
Jackson ran his hands through his hair and put his elbows on the table, his head cradled in his hands. Mrs. Ward and I shrugged at each other. I wanted to tell him this was why librarians weren’t detectives. If he asked me to catalog his desk, I could do that, but to understand people’s behavior was a whole other thing. Social skills were not in my forte.
He lifted his head. “I’ve been thinking. When we saw them arguing the other day on the sidewalk… You only argue that passionately if you’re enemies or lovers. I kind of got the feeling from Sandy and John that maybe they had a thing for each other.”
I wrinkled my nose. “But he’s old.”
“He’s also wealthy.”
“So is she,” I pointed out. Not to sound too harsh, but I couldn’t see any reason why Sandy would be with him. She was a very pretty lady and could find a guy her own age. Money wouldn’t direct her actions since she had her own.
“You didn’t notice anything between them? He jumped in front of her when Maxie came running at them.”
“I don’t think he was running at them,” I said. “At least not—”
“Not the point,” Jackson said, his own temper flaring. “You didn’t notice anything off? He shielded her. She grabbed his arms…”
“Sorry.” I shrugged. “I was more worried about Maxie. Even if they are having an affair, what would that have to do with the case? If it’s a lovers quarrel, doesn’t one of the lovers end up murdered, not the father?”
He shook his head. “This is why I don’t like discussing the case with either of you.”
“Maybe she’s right,” Mrs. Ward offered. “You said yourself you didn’t know who did it yet, so how can you be so certain Maddie’s not right about this?”
“Maddie,” Jackson muttered, rolling his eyes. He had just shoved a big forkful of lasagna into his mouth when his phone rang. The song “Bad Boys” filled the dining room.
“You’re kidding,” I said.
He scorched me with a look and then answered. “Hey.” Whatever was said on the other line was short and sweet. Jackson’s lips thinned, but he kept his calm demeanor as he stood from the table. He put his phone back in his pocket and looked at his mom. “I have to go. Sorry. John Williams is at the downtown parking lot, top floor. He’s threatening to jump.”
His gaze shifted to me. He looked down his nose and then turned away, hurrying out the front door.
Chapter 9
It took all of two minutes for Mrs. Ward to convince me we should follow Jackson to Historic Downtown. We parked on the other side of Museum Place Mall and walked over to the lone parking garage in the city. The blue, red, and white lights of every one of Salem’s emergency vehicles lit up the night sky. A spotlight beamed down from a hovering helicopter and Mrs. Ward gasped as we both recognized John Williams standing at the very top, on this si
de of a protective barrier.
I’d seen him look better. Even from this distance, he looked like a guy in complete misery. He hands gripped the protective metal piping, gripping it, and leaning forward. Mrs. Ward tugged on my arm and we walked closer to the center of things.
As we skirted the police barrier, we heard murmurs of Sandy Sanders and Mr. Williams’ request. At last, John screamed, “Get her out here or I’ll do it!”
Both Mrs. Ward and I jumped. I automatically reached for her to find her hand already outstretched to mine. We held each other.
“I love her,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sell my share, I didn’t.”
My heart hurt for him even though it meant Jackson was right. John and Sandy were in a relationship. My mood switched from sadness to my heart skipping a beat as soon as a dramatic Jackson moved into our line of sight. “What are you two doing here?” he said through clenched teeth.
I looked at Mrs. Ward. She straightened her shoulders as best she could even though she kept turning a worried glance John’s way. “We were worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Please go. This isn’t the place for you right now.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I think even you can discern that right now.”
My head reeled back. Talk about a quick shot to the jugular. Unnecessary, too. I was just curious.
Coming closer, his voice lowering, he said, “Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t want either of you here. If this ends badly, it’s not something you can take back seeing. Okay? Please? Where did you park? I can have Dezi walk you back.”
Before we could answer, a car sped up to the scene and squealed to a halt. Sandy Sanders stepped out.
“Dezi,” Jackson called and waved the officer over, his stare never leaving Sandy’s tall form. “Please take these two back to their car. I’ll meet you back at home,” he said, looking toward his mother.
Dezi walked with Mrs. Ward while I took up the rear. Before we went around the corner, I glanced back and noticed Sandy standing right below John, her head tilted up to the sky.
“He always was such a fuss,” Mrs. Ward said to Dezi, smiling as if they were having a nice stroll in the park. Being sent away from the scene hadn’t bothered her any. She asked Josh about his mother and sister, what he liked most about working as an officer, and whether he wanted to be a detective all by the time we got back to my car.
“Thanks,” I said to him as I got in. I started the car and put on the headlights. There, in the illuminated storefront was Troy Levine who just walked out of one of his many tourist shops. He locked the door behind him and started down the street in the opposite direction of the parking garage. “I wonder why he wanted a part of Sanders, Inc.”
“Money,” Mrs. Ward said, her gaze following Troy’s retreating figure as he walked further into the shadows. “It’s always about money.”
We returned to her house and cleaned up after our interrupted dinner. We were just putting the last plate in the dishwasher when she turned and asked if I’d seen the latest episode of ‘This Is Us’. I’d noticed she’d been worrying over her lip and checking her cell phone constantly. She must have been a nervous wreck with Jackson at the scene. It didn’t look like John Williams was going to hurt anyone but himself, but I wasn’t about to tell her that, not wanting to bring the topic up unnecessarily. Instead, I told her I’d love to stay and watch it with her.
It was near the end of the episode and Mrs. Ward and I were both crying when Jackson returned home. As soon as I heard the doorknob jiggle, I fanned my face and choked back the threatening tears. “What’s wrong with you two?” he asked after walking in on the crying fest.
“Oh, this show!” Mrs. Ward said as she wiped under her eyes. She picked up the remote and paused it. “It gets you right in the feels.”
“The feels? You must have got that from her,” he said, pointing to me on the sofa as he sat on the other end.
“I am known to say ‘feels’,” I admitted.
Mrs. Ward shook her head. “Anyway, what happened? Is John okay?”
“He’s fine,” Jackson said. “He’ll be spending a little time in the emotional care unit.”
“Emotional care unit? Is that the polite way of saying psych ward?” I asked.
He cracked a smile. “Pretty much. You know how we all have to be politically correct. We can’t just call him crazy, we have to call him psychologically deficient.”
“And Sandy Sanders?” his mom asked.
“She did what we asked, but she’s about as emotionless as a block of ice. She admitted to the affair with him. It didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him. Almost seems like a ploy to get back at her dad somehow. Apparently, Mr. Sanders had an affair with Clare Greene.”
I said, “Clare? Didn’t you…?”
At the same time, Mrs. Ward gasped. “Clare! You’re lucky. You could be dating a murderer right now. How would that look on your record?”
“Yes,” he said, his neck swiveling back to me after fixing his mother with an incredulous stare. “Clare and I dated.”
“I never liked her,” Mrs. Ward chimed in.
“It didn’t work out,” Jackson explained.
“Because she’s obviously a murderer. It’s always the mistress. Always.”
Jackson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “She’s a good person. We just wanted different things and I’m not surprised she had an affair with Mr. Sanders. I had the feeling my detective salary wouldn’t have been enough for her.”
“Not that they were even at that point in their relationship,” Mrs. Ward said, leaning forward so she could look around her son to me.
“I don’t know her very well, but Ray’s her brother, right? He’s a nice guy,” I said.
“That’s right,” Mrs. Ward said, moving to her feet and standing right in front of Jackson, an earnest look on her face. “Clare’s brother is our janitor at the library. He could have let her in. She had the means to take out Mr. Sanders.”
Jackson looked at me and mouthed, “Take out?”
I shrugged and looked back at Mrs. Ward. “Ray wouldn’t do that.”
“Maybe she stole his keys.”
“We didn’t see her on the security tapes.”
“You can’t see everything on them.”
“Mom,” Jackson said. He’d been switching back and forth between us like a tennis match. “You just don’t like her.”
She didn’t even try to deny it. “You have to admit that it’s usually the mistress,” she said.
“Or the wife,” I offered. “Because of the mistress.”
“I’m so glad you both have all these theories. Maybe I—”
Mrs. Ward covered her mouth with her hand. “We’re going to have to fire Ray.”
“We’re not firing Ray,” I said. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
Mrs. Ward shook her head and walked back toward her recliner mumbling, “You think you know somebody.” She pushed play on the show again and we all sat and watched in silence.
As soon as the end credits started to play, Jackson stood. “I’m heading home. Do you want me to walk you out, Maddie?”
“Sure.” I stood, strode toward Mrs. Ward and gave her a hug. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
“Anytime.” I walked toward the front door as Jackson stepped into my place. His mother’s hands clasped his cheeks as she gave him a peck on the temple. “Be careful, Son.”
“Always am, Mom. Good night.”
He walked me out the front door and down the steps toward the curb where both our cars were parked. “Next time we should just take one car,” Jackson joked, pointing to them parked right next to each other. “We’re practically going back to the same place.”
“If your mom tells us we’re both invited next time, I’d have no problem with that. My car though,” I said. “Every time I ride in yours I feel like I did something wrong.”
“Guilty conscience?”
“Ha.
Ha,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’re so funny.”
“Hey,” he said, catching my wrist and staring down at it. “That’s pretty. New?”
I stared down at the bracelet Mel made me. “Yeah. Mel made it for me.”
“Oh,” Jackson said. He let go of my hand and I automatically covered the all-seeing eye with my other palm. He looked up. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you’re not who you are. Derek hated that.”
My shoulders stiffened. “Hate’s a strong word.”
Jackson shrugged. “Fine. I hate it. You’re a witch. So what?”
“Technically, I’m a Wiccan. Or, at least, my family are Wiccans.”
“Yeah and so is half of Salem. I know you can actually do stuff though, Maddie. So can Mel. I’ve seen it. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t creep me out, but it’s still cool as hell. What’s the bracelet for?”
I slowly peeled my palm away from the bracelet and held it up so he could get a good look. “See that?” I asked, pointing to the middle bead. “That’s the all-seeing eye. It’s a protection charm.”
“Mel thinks you need protecting?”
“I guess so.”
“Can’t she…?”
“She thinks she can. Sometimes I think she’s just a good guesser with even better intuition.”
Mel thought she could predict the future, and in actuality, she did a good job of it. She told me I shouldn’t date Derek because it would end not only horribly, but too soon. When she told me that, I thought she meant we wouldn’t last long, not that he would die. Her visions weren’t crystal clear. Sometimes she would say things that didn’t make sense until after they happened.
She didn’t talk to me about it anymore. I’d asked her not to and so far, she’d kept her promise. There were just some things I’d rather not know.
“Regardless of whether it works,” he said. “It looks pretty on you.”
I offered him a small smile and walked backward toward my car. “Good night, Jackson.”
“Good night, Maddie.”
I thought about the conversation with Jackson all the way home. Salem was a very forgiving town when it came to religion based on the tragedy that had happened in its past. Wiccans flocked here as if to pay homage to their ‘ancestry’. My family were amongst the early settlers. I was brought up Wiccan, but I didn’t practice a religion at all anymore. I never quite felt like I fit in anywhere.