The Stairwell

by M. M. Silva

  “You and your aunt had a beautiful home, and I know Jeff will take care of it to the best of his ability. I truly don’t want to bother or upset you; I’m just trying to get to the bottom of Charlie’s death. If something bad happened to your friend, I intend to find out what that was, and if you have any information that might help me, I’d be really grateful.”

  He stared at me but didn’t flinch. As I’d gained nothing to this point, I played my trump card.

  “And if someone I’ve previously mentioned bought your silence by paying off your aunt’s house and sending her money regularly, then that someone is a really bad person. And that someone may still be up to no good.”

  Rusty’s jaw dropped a little bit, but he still didn’t speak. I wanted to bust Malcolm Gage Johnson so bad I could taste it, and all I needed was for Rusty to give me an inch. If I could get some more information, maybe we could get Officer Hurley that warrant.

  I gave him my best sad eyes. “I will help you.”

  Big Red mocked us. “You gonna get him out of here, Miss Detective? And what exactly would he do? Apply all his talents out there in a world he couldn’t even function in a few decades ago?” He scoffed and shook his head. “My man Rusty is a lifer. He doesn’t want to get out of here. He wouldn’t survive it. The best thing he did for his aunt was staying in this place.”

  I hated Big Red for spewing his hurtful words in his superior manner, but the basis of what he said was true. Rusty was exactly where he wanted to be, where he was comfortable, the place he now considered home. It made my heart hurt.

  I looked at Rusty. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. I didn’t have any more speeches or energy or earnest looks in me. But then I remembered something. “By the way, Jeff has three boxes of your aunt’s things. Charlie had packed them away for you. When you get out of here, Jeff said to tell you he’d have them in a safe place.”

  Rusty’s brown eyes softened and then they flicked to Big Red. Flicking back to me, Rusty barely mouthed the word, “Attic.” My own eyes grew wide, and I almost repeated the word out loud.

  How stupid would that have been?

  Now back in the car, I wondered if Rusty had actually given me a clue. Had I imagined it? There were cameras everywhere in that place. Would Rusty really have risked saying something revealing? If so, I had some hope, and hope’s a good thing in my book.

  After replaying the visit in my mind while Doob drove, I synced my phone up with Doob’s truck and called Jeff’s cell to relay the whole story. He sounded like a kid at Christmas and said he was out running some errands, but would wait for us to go to the attic if he arrived home before we did.

  I then called Gus, who didn’t sound nearly as excited as Jeff when he learned the details of my visit; he told me to call him once Jeff and Doob were finished poking around the attic. When he said that, it made me realize I wouldn’t physically be able to go snooping with them. I’d have given up a month of coffee to do so, but with my friggin’ cast, I’d just have to sit and wait. When I asked Gus why he wasn’t more enthusiastic, he said if Charlie had found the coins and had been killed for them, then the killer likely had them in his or her possession. They may have even been sold on the black market by now.

  While I knew he was right, I found myself irritated with Gus as I disconnected the phone. Too much shit had gone down lately, and I wanted a happy ending. I wanted Jeff to find some treasure in the attic floorboards, and I wanted Charlie’s death to be an accidental fall. I wanted something good to happen for a change.

  “He’s right,” Doob crooned. “I can tell you’re pissed, but he’s right. Those coins may be long gone.”

  “I know he’s right,” I said while rubbing my temples. “And obviously the coins aren’t rightfully Rusty’s or Ava’s, or even Jeff’s for that matter, but to think someone got away with them and killed Charlie…well, it just plain sucks.”

  Doob motioned toward the navigation unit with his head. “We’ll know in about a half hour. Patience, Meg, patience.”

  I knocked on my cast. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Everything is testing my patience as of late.”

  “The poor patient has no patience,” Doob said with a big grin, pleased with himself.

  “Just drive, funny man.”

  As it turned out, we pulled into the long lane on Jeff’s property at the exact same time he arrived. The sky had turned dark and ominous, and I wondered if we’d get rain or maybe some snow later this evening.

  A stout, brown-haired woman waited at Jeff’s doorstep. She had items in both arms and turned around to face us as the vehicles approached the house. Jeff got out of his Porsche and went to greet the woman while Doob walked around to my side of the car to help me with my crutches. Working my way toward the front door, I noticed the woman smiling at Jeff and heard their exchange.

  “Hi neighbor,” she said cheerily. “Margie Watson, I live next door.” Her head motioned toward the house south of Jeff’s about a half mile.

  “Well, hello Margie. My name is Jeff Geiger. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but you’re loaded down. May I help?”

  Margie nodded and handed Jeff a basket full of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She also held up a large salad bowl covered in Saran Wrap, full to the brim with lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and all sorts of other goodies.

  “I didn’t know if you were a health food person or not, so I opted to bring both sweets and a salad. A lot of the stuff in the salad is from your garden; I can the veggies and use them all year long. So I guess the salad isn’t really a gift. I’m just returning it in a different format.” Her cheery laughter easily reached us as Doob and I made our way to the steps, and I was an instant fan of Margie Watson. From the look on Jeff’s face, he was as well. And Doob…well, she’d brought food, so she could have been a serial killer and Doob would have given her two thumbs up.

  Jeff took the salad bowl from her and smiled. “This is incredibly thoughtful. Thank you. Meet my friends, Meagan and Doobie. And that maniac tearing around”—he pointed with his chin—“is Meagan’s dog, Sampson.”

  “Those Springers have some energy, no doubt about that. It’s nice to meet you both. What happened here?” She gestured to my leg.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” I replied. “Ruptured Achilles.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Oooh, that’s a nasty one; I’m sorry to hear it. My niece had that a few years back; she ran hurdles in high school until the same injury got her. Ruined her chance at a college scholarship because she tried to rush the healing process. If you don’t mind some advice from an old goat, you need to listen to your doctor and don’t skimp on the physical therapy. It’s not a quick recovery.”

  I nodded. “That seems to be the recommendation I’m getting from everyone. I’m being as patient as I can with it, but I’ll be really glad when I’m better.”

  Ever the host, Jeff said, “Well, let’s get Meagan off her one good foot, and Margie, please come in and see the house. I can offer you coffee, lemonade, water, a variety of sodas, wine, or straight scotch.”

  Margie chortled again, and her brown eyes crinkled so much they almost disappeared in her jovial face. My guess was she was in her early fifties, but she had a manner about her that would keep her looking young for a long time.

  “I’ll take a raincheck on all of the above, but especially on the scotch,” she said with a wink. “I’m going into Providence this evening, and I wanted to drop these off before leaving. It’s been over a week, and I’ve just been busier than all get-out. But I didn’t want you to think I’m a snooty neighbor or anything.”

  “No chance of that. I’ve been flat out myself. But thank you so much. You can borrow things from the garden anytime you like. It’s far too big for me to use all on my own.”

  She blushed. “I took care of the garden for Ava for the past few years. She was well into her eighties, and I just couldn’t stand seeing her out there. If you’d like, we can strike up the same deal.”

  “
Done. I could definitely use some guidance in all things planted, so consider my garden your garden.”

  She grinned and shook his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Geiger. Now I’ve got to get going. Nice to meet you, uh, Doobie and Meagan. Take care of that leg.”

  She started to turn away, and Jeff looked after her curiously. “Margie, before you go, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Did you see anything or anyone weird around here before I moved in?”

  “Are you asking because of what happened to Charlie?”

  He nodded. “I’m not trying to be an alarmist, but it was pretty shocking to walk in and see that. I guess I just want to make sure it was an accident.”

  She patted his arm. “Bart and I were in our house for over two decades, and then I lost him to cancer. I’ve been on my own in the house for the last three years.”

  Jeff’s mouth turned down in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  She waved it off. “It was a blessing at the end. Anyway, the reason I bring it up is because I can count the times we locked our doors on one hand. I still don’t lock them, even being alone. I’ve kept an eye on Ava, this house, and this garden for that entire time, and she never had any problems, either. I think it was just a horrible situation you walked in on, so don’t let your imagination get the best of you.”

  “You’re probably right, I’m sorry to bring it up.”

  “Not at all, you let me know if you have any trouble. I’ll bring the dogs and the shotgun down and take care of things for you.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I can’t wait to meet them. Thanks for stopping by, and have a great trip into Providence.”

  She started walking away, and he called after her.

  “Margie?”

  “Do you need any help with the dogs while you’re gone?”

  “Thank you, but they’re coming with me. We’re visiting my sister overnight, and she’s a dog-person, so they’re welcomed guests.” She cocked her head. “I think they’re more welcome than me, truth be told.” And then she cackled that infectious laugh of hers.

  “Okay, have a great time. And don’t let those dogs eat at the dinner table.”

  Margie smiled and started walking away but then turned back to us. “Talking about the dogs reminded me of something. Sometimes I swear I’m having senior moments, which is impossible, me being twenty-five and all.” She winked at him but then grew serious in the next breath.

  “What’s that?”

  “A day or two before you showed up, I was winterizing Ava’s garden —sorry, your garden—and the dogs were with me, and they started barking. They’re both German shorthairs, nine years old, so they’re usually pretty docile. But they were making a ruckus like I’ve haven’t heard in a long time. So I quit what I was doing and went to find them.”

  She gestured toward the lane. “The dogs were on your driveway here, and there was a man walking away from them, back towards some junker car parked on the side of the road. I yelled after him, and he stopped and said he’d heard the McGraw house was for sale. Well, the darn sign that said SOLD was right in front of his face, so I pointed at it and said it’d been sold. Duh. He said he hadn’t seen the sign until he got closer to the house. Do you think that could have been anything significant?”

  Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems like a logical explanation to me.”

  She wrinkled her nose a little. “Yeah, I guess so. I was glad the dogs were with me, though. Maybe I’m the one imagining things now, but the guy was creepy.”

  My senses went on full alert. Margie was believable, and something in her tone had me worried.

  “How so?” Jeff asked.

  “He was a real big sucker with red hair. He had a gold tooth right smack in the middle of his mouth, and he didn’t seem to like that I was questioning him. Anyway, he drove off, and that’s the last I saw of him. I hadn’t really thought about it since.”

  My heart began to race. Big Red, the prison guard. He must have heard Charlie’s and Rusty’s conversation the day Charlie had visited the prison. Had Rusty told Charlie about the attic? Had Big Red come to try to find the coins? Had he killed Charlie?

  “Did you happen to tell this to the police?” I asked her, trying not to sound alarmed.

  She shook her head. “I’ve been gone so much I haven’t talked to the police. Do you think I should call them?”

  Jeff reassured her the best he could. “I’m sure everything’s fine Margie, but thanks for telling me. I don’t want to hold you up any longer. Have a great time in Providence.”

  “Okay, but if you think I should tell the cops, just let me know. I’ll stop by in a few days to talk about it.”

  The minute she was out of earshot, I whirled on my crutches. “Holy shit, you guys! I know who did this,” I squealed out a whisper.

  Jeff looked confused. “How could you possibly know—”

  Doob started herding me inside. “That’s great if you’ve figured it out, Meg, and I know better than to doubt you. But let’s get you inside before the sky opens up.”

  We moved inside, and I plopped down on the couch while Jeff took Margie’s gifts into the kitchen and Doob retrieved beverages for everyone, including Sampson. Once they joined me on the couch, I relayed everything.

  “Creepy guard from the prison, I didn’t see that one coming,” Jeff mused.

  I pointed at the stairwell. “You two need to get your asses up to that attic right now,” I insisted. “I’m going to get myself upstairs and wait for you. I want to know every single thing you’re seeing every second you’re up there.”

  Doob chugged the remainder of his soda in one gulp and nodded toward the staircase. “All right Jeff, you go up first, and I’ll follow her. That way if she falls up the stairs or falls down the stairs, we’ll be able to catch her either way.”

  Jeff nodded. “Yeah, one dead body at the bottom of those stairs is enough for my lifetime.”

  I scowled at both of them and stood on my crutches. “I’m not going to fall up or down. Actually, I’m getting around pretty good on these things and could probably still outrun you, Doob.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Like that’s a big accomplishment. Are we going to go find some coins or what?”

  “Let’s do this,” Jeff said.

  CHAPTER 44

  SAMPSON LED THE WAY, AND I REALIZED WHEN WE GOT UPSTAIRS the attic had a door with another set of stairs leading up.

  “This is great,” I said. “I thought it was a pull-down staircase I wouldn’t be able to climb. I should be able to get up these just fine.”

  Doob, peering up the attic stairwell, shook his head while Jeff laid down the law. “This is an old house, Meagan. I don’t know when they started making those pull-downs, but it was well after this house was built. And as steep as those stairs are, there is no way you’re heading up there.” He handed Doob a hammer he’d stuck in his back pocket and pulled out an even bigger one for himself. “Besides, there isn’t much up there at all. After we go through the boxes I’ve already been through once, I guess we’ll start pulling up floorboards.”

  “I second that,” Doob chirped. “There’s nothing you can do up there that will help.”

  I blew out a breath in exasperation. This sucked. “Fine, but we’re leaving that door open, and I want you guys to yell down to me the minute you find anything.” I turned to Jeff. “Are you sure you want to start ripping up your floors?”

  He shrugged. “Not really, but what else are we supposed to do?”

  I felt a twinge of guilt, but I know what I saw, and Rusty definitely mouthed the word, “Attic.”

  Sampson and the boys headed upstairs while I went into the closest guest bedroom and plopped down in an oversized nautical-looking chair that swallowed me up. It was very cushiony and cozy and bigger than my car.

  “Anything yet?” I yelled toward the ceiling.

  “We’ve been up here fifty-two seconds, Meg,” D
oob yelled back. “We’ll work faster if you quit bugging us.”

  The nerve.

  I decided to call Gus with an update, and he was extremely interested in all the details about the prison guard. Maybe with Gus’s connections, he could look into the red-headed jerk. Gus told me he was going to make a few calls and to let him know if we found anything.

  Over the next half hour or so, I yelled up to the boys a couple more times only to get barked at in return, and not by Sampson. Jeff didn’t seem too thrilled about ripping up his floors, and Doob becomes completely disagreeable when it comes to manual labor in any sense. Deciding to leave them alone for a bit, I played solitaire on my phone.

  I must have dozed off for a spell because I woke up with a start, my senses on alert. Glancing at the clock, I noticed an hour had passed, and it was now completely dark outside, rain pattering on the window panes.

  I could hear Jeff and Doob’s efforts from above. But something besides their previous irritation kept me from yelling up to them. My body tingled, and my heart thumped hard in my chest. The voice in my head told me to stay extremely quiet.

  And then I heard it; a squeak from the stairwell below. I remembered the sound from my previous trips up the stairs. If memory served me, it was the second step.

  What in the world? Who in the world?

  My mind raced back to when we came inside from speaking with Margie, and I couldn’t remember if we’d locked the door behind us. Reaching for my crutches, I slid off the chair and hobbled as quickly and quietly as I could toward the doorway. I scanned the dark room for a weapon even though I knew it was fruitless. My gun had been confiscated after the shooting, and I didn’t see anything in the bedroom that would do any damage. And that’s assuming I had two good legs. Even with a weapon, I was far from one hundred percent.

  Hiding behind the open door, I peeked out the crack into the hallway. My breath came out at Darth Vader volume, and I hoped whoever was coming after us was frightened of Star Wars villains.