The Merchant of Menace jj-10

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The Merchant of Menace jj-10 Page 16

by Jill Churchill


  “The method? The place? The time?" Mel tried to help her prod the memory.

  “No. Never mind. It's probably something useless anyway. How's Addie?"

  “Fine. Fine!" he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "A little bored, of course. I'd hoped to be free more of the time while she was visiting.”

  She hoped he wasn't hinting that Jane entertain her, but if so, it was a doomed hope. "Well, I better get along. I'm taking Todd and Pet to the premier of a movie. I hope it's something appropriate, but I'm not going to investigate it too thoroughly for fear it's not."

  “I'm sure Sam Dwyer has checked it out," Mel said. "He's very protective of his daughter."

  “True. You've relieved my mind. Call me later, okay?”

  Mel lowered his voice. "Want to see if we can sneak away this afternoon?”

  She knew what he had in mind and it sounded good to her, but it wasn't possible. "I have to go back into hostess mode this afternoon and fix a nice dinner. My in-laws are coming over."

  “I'm not crazy about celibacy."

  “Neither am I, but I've got kids all over my house, you've got your mother at yours and I'm sure every hotel in the city is full of visiting relatives. Talk to you later.”

  Jane took the kids to the movie. It was nice being able to back out of a pristine driveway, but she wished Mike had set the trash farther to the left. She had no room to avoid falling inthe infamous pothole. "Mom!" Todd said, rubbing his head where he'd bumped it on the window. "You've got to get that fixed.”

  When she got back from dropping them off, Katie was in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge. "What are you looking for?" Jane asked.

  “Eggs. I want scrambled eggs. With bacon."

  “I'll fix it," Jane said.

  “You will?"

  “I've got a lot of extra energy to expend." Jane gestured at Katie to sit down at the table. Jane pulled out a carton of eggs and put them on the counter. Oops, that was the full carton. She thought that there was another with only two eggs left. She found the other carton hiding behind a bowl of cookie dough that had somehow been forgotten. Jane stood for a moment, staring at the egg cartons.

  “Mom? What's wrong? Mom? Wake up." Jane turned to Katie. "Egg cartons," she said. "Egg cartons and milk cartons."

  “What are you—"

  “Don't talk for a second. Let me think," Jane said. She put the eggs down, mumbling to herself and nodding. "Yes, yes. It has to be. It's the only thing— Katie, I take back my offer to make breakfast.”

  She ran upstairs, closed the bedroom door behind her and dialed Shelley. In broken phrases, she told Shelley what she'd figured out. "Does that make any sense at all?" she asked.

  “It might not be right, but it all fits. But you better call Mel right away. The trash trucks are coming."

  “Oh! Yes.”

  She called Mel, horrified that he might not be at his desk, that the evidence was going to disappear any second. It was plain good luck that he picked up the phone. She ran through her theory again. "Oh, come on, Jane!" he said. "It's all speculation."

  “But you can check on one part of it easily. And you better do it fast. The trash trucks are coming," she said, echoing Shelley's warning.

  He didn't even say good-bye before hanging up. He had taken her seriously in spite of the absurdity of her thoughts.

  Shelley was already at the door when Jane got downstairs. Katie was cooking eggs and looking at Jane as if she'd gone bonkers. Jane threw on her coat and boots and she and Shelley went out to the driveway.

  Wringing her hands, Jane said, "Should we go steal the trash?"

  “No, we could really screw things up if we did that.”

  As they spoke, a police car turned the corner and stopped at the end of the block. Jane could hear the clank and rumble of trucks on the next street. Mel's MG skidded around the same corner and came to rest pointing the wrong way on the opposite curb. He got out to talk to the other officer, and glancing up the street, made an "OK" sign at Jane.

  The trash truck arrived a moment later. The big, ugly blue machine came slowly, belching black fumes and making a clanking racket. Two trash collectors, who had been clinging to the sides, jumped down and headed for the recycle bins. Mel spoke to them. They shook theirheads. He spoke again. One of them made to pick up a bin, but Mel stepped in front of him. The driver climbed down and marched over, beefy hands on hips.

  Jane and Shelley started to move down the block to get close enough to hear. Mel pulled out a badge. The driver kept arguing and tried to pick up a bin. The other officer tried to stop him. There was a short tussle and the trash driver got back in the truck, making an obscene gesture. The truck moved on.

  Mel called to Jane. She and Shelley nearly ran to his summons.

  “You took the kids to the movies already, right?"

  “Half an hour ago."

  “Good. I wouldn't like to have to arrest Sam Dwyer in front of his daughter.”

  Twenty-four ·;.

  "Poor little Pet," Julie Newton said, swinging her leg as she sat on one of Jane's kitchen chairs. "How's she taking it?”

  Jane was loading the dishwasher. "Well. Much, much too well. Very stoic. She's upstairs with Todd, building a new gadget for the hamster cage as if there were nothing wrong. I'm really worried about her.”

  Dinner was over. Thelma had gone home, satisfied that the extra child at the family Christmas Eve dinner was with them because her father was ill. Everybody else knew the truth, but it was agreed among them that Thelma would ooze sympathy from every pore and probably drive poor Pet around the bend if she knew about Sam. The weather had turned warmer, but it was foggy, which made the Christmas lights on the houses along the block seem misty and blurred.

  “How on earth did you figure out that it was Sam Dwyer? He seemed like such a nice man. So devoted to his daughter."

  “Too devoted," Jane said. "His marriage was falling apart, he didn't approve of his frivolous, fun-loving wife, but was apparently afraid she'd divorce him and keep Pet. Mothers usually do get custody. So before it could happen, he kidnapped Pet, moved away, and told Pet her mother had died."

  “But how did you know that? How did you even guess?"

  “She's psychic," Shelley said, coming in from the living room where she'd been watching Christmas Mass from the Vatican on the television.

  “No, really," Julie insisted.

  “It was the egg cartons first," Jane said. "Mel had described some footprints that were found near Ginger's body. He said they were blurry and rectangular. It. sounded like some kind of weird shoes or boots. But I wondered at the time why somebody who obviously didn't want to be identified would deliberately wear footgear that was so easily identifiable. Then, this morning I was holding two egg cartons and it suddenly occurred to me that you could tape them to your feet, then just put them back into the trash and nobody would ever associate them with shoes. Which is exactly what Sam did. Some of the duct tape he used to keep them on his feet was still on them."

  “But why did you think of Sam? We all have egg cartons," Julie persisted.

  “Because I'd seen them in his recycling bin when we went there for dinner. That's the only reason he even crossed my mind. But egg cartons made me think of milk cartons. Pet told me she had to drink special milk. I tasted hers at her house and it tasted exactly like the ordinary milk you get in paper cartons."

  “Because it was," Shelley added.

  “I don't get it yet," Julie said.

  “It wasn't the milk that was different," Jane explained. "It was the container.”

  Julie thought for a minute, then her eyes opened very wide. "They have pictures of missing children on them!"

  “Right. And Sam didn't dare risk Pet ever seeing her name or one of those 'age-enhanced' pictures on a milk carton," Shelley said.

  “I still could have been badly wrong," Jane said. "It was all just mental leaping around. But it gave Mel what he needed. He immediately contacted the missing-children people in Flo
rida. It literally only took seconds because Sam hadn't even attempted to change his name. He just took Pet and left one day while his wife was at the grocery store."

  “We should have realized something had changed when he wanted to be invited to the cookie party," Shelley said.

  “Right," Jane said. "He hadn't wanted anything to do with the neighbors until then. I'd invited him to the caroling party and he didn't even respond, much less show up. Then suddenly the next day, he wants to be involved in neighborhood activities."

  “And wanted to be chummy with you in particular," Shelley said.

  Jane made a face at her. "What's so weird about that?"

  “You've been here in the neighborhood all this

  time, but as soon as Lance King was killed right

  next door to you after being in your house, he's

  suddenly interested in you. That's what's weird."

  "And I thought it was my charm," Jane said.

  “Has Sam admitted to the murder?" Julie asked. Jane nodded. "He went to pieces, Mel told me. Said he'd dreaded losing Pet all these years. He was obsessed with it. He feared everybody who asked him about himself was a private detective. And when he heard Lance King was coming to the neighborhood, he was worried. Then Lance did that piece on the news about the 'dirty underbelly of life in the suburbs' or whatever it was, and he was horrified that Lance knew about Pet. It was sheer panic, I imagine, that made him come up here and watch to see if Lance left the house between broadcasts. And, unfortunately for both of them, that's just what Lance did."

  “Did Lance know about Sam and Pet?" Shelley asked.

  “I don't imagine we'll ever know," Jane said. "But my guess is that he did. Mel says there's a perfect view of the Dwyer house from the Johnsons' roof. No trees or fences in the way. And it had to be someone on the opposite side of the street he was watching."

  “And what about that reporter?" Julie asked. "Apparently he just stumbled onto her by accident. He had no idea she was there, and nearly ran into her. Then he really panicked and ran home."

  “So he didn't have the egg cartons on his feet to keep him from being identified as the person who hit her?"

  “I don't think so. I think he was just afraid the police might come back and see strange footprints and ask him what he'd been looking for," Jane said.

  “I know what he did was awful," Julie said, tapping her fingertips on the table. "But it was only because he loved his daughter so much that he did those awful things.”

  Shelley said, "But he didn't do it for Pet, really. He did it for himself. To keep her to himself and away from her mother. I suppose he thought that was in Pet's best interests, but still, it wasn't right to steal the child and then kill someone to keep from being discovered.”

  Jane poured them all some coffee and sat down where she could see out the front window. "Pet is twelve years old. Almost thirteen. Sam told Mel that if she'd been sixteen, he wouldn't have done anything. He thought the 'window' for losing her ended then because even if he were found out, she'd have the legal choice of deciding which parent to stay with."

  “And he didn't doubt she'd choose him?" Julie asked.

  “How could he doubt it?" Shelley said. "Sam was the only parent she knew or remembered."

  “I'm not so sure," Jane said. "She remembers her mother vividly, or thinks she does.”

  Jane caught a flash of light outside and looked out the window. A police car had pulled into the driveway. Jane motioned to Shelley and Julie to stay put. Then she went to the front door, opened it, and waited.

  The woman who came to the door looked much like she had in the photograph album. Older, of course. And a bit thinner. Less flamboyant. And very, very nervous.

  “I'm Patty Sue Dwyer," she said.

  “I know you are," Jane said with a smile. "I've never been happier to meet anyone. I thought youmight want to meet with Pet privately. Come up to my bedroom and I'll send her to you.”

  “What if she hates me?" Patty Sue blurted out. She was very pale in spite of a good Florida tan. "She won't," Jane assured her.

  Jane got Patty Sue settled in her bedroom and closed the door, then went to Todd's room. He was still fiddling with the hamster gadget. Pet was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and her gaze was fixed blankly on the opposite wall.

  “Pet?" Jane said.

  Pet turned to her slowly, her eyes behind her goggly glasses bleak.

  “I have something for you. Come to my room with me.”

  Pet followed obediently. Jane opened the door and Pet stepped in. Patty Sue stood perfectly still and said, "Oh, Pet. My darling Pet.”

  Pet was frozen in place. She stared and blinked owlishly. Then she whispered, "Mommy!" and ran to fling herself into her mother's waiting arms.

  Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the sun sparkling on what remained of the snow. It was the one day of the year that the kids wanted to get up early. There had always been a rule, however, that they couldn't come downstairs until nine o'clock. They were lined up like racehorses at the starting post at one minute before. Jane and the kids went through the comfortable, comforting routine. Todd distributed the gifts and they opened them one at a time, going from youngest to oldest until everything was opened.

  Jane fixed a light breakfast and afterwards, the kids tried on new clothes, checked out their new stuff, and Jane indulged herself in playing the adventure game Mike had gotten her for her laptop. At noon, Thelma arrived, this time without her son Ted and his wife Dixie. Ted and Dixie spent Christmas Day with Dixie's parents and siblings. Mel and Addie arrived an hour later. Mel looked happy and rested.

  “How's Pet doing?" he asked.

  “Patty Sue called a few minutes ago and said they were both fine," Jane answered.

  “Poor child," Addie said. Apparently Mel had filled her in on the case and its resolution. "Her father going to jail."

  “But she has her mother back," Jane said. "That doesn't make it better, exactly, but she needs her mother's influence. If you could have seen her smile when she and her mother came downstairs—" Jane started tearing up again. She'd done that a couple of times since witnessing the reunion and would probably keep on doing so for quite a while. "I have to check the turkey," she said, turning away abruptly.

  Mel followed her a minute later and took her into the little hallway leading to the guest bath and garage door. "You're a good woman," he said before kissing her.

  “And you're a good man to put up with me," she said.

  “I have a gift I want to give you now. I don't know if you want it or not.”

  He pulled a tiny box out of his pocket and handed it to her. She knew what it was without opening it. But she opened it anyway. It was a diamond ring.

  "Oh, Mel—"

  "You don't have to answer right now. Just keep it while you're deciding."

  A dozen thoughts flashed through her mind. One of the more trivial ones was the concept of having not one, but two mothers-in-law, neither of whom liked her. Another was how much she loved this good man.

  "Mel, I have such gifts this year. My kids, my friends, my home, and you."

  "But—?"

  "But I wish you'd keep this and give it to me again next Christmas… if you still want to."

  She was afraid he'd be angry — or worse, hurt. Instead, he smiled and put his hand out for the box. "All right. If that's what you want."

  Jane took a step back and looked at him severely. "You're relieved!"

  "No, I'm not!" he said, still smiling.

  "You are! I can tell. You're supposed to beg me to change my mind."

  "Would you?"

  "No."

  "Then why should I waste my effort?" He was openly laughing at her now.

  She started laughing, too. She snuggled into his arms and said, "I like things just like they are, Mel."

  "So do I."

  "Mom? Where are you? The gravy's burning," Katie yelled from the kitchen.

&nb
sp; "You save the gravy, I'll save this," Jane said, holding up the ring box.

  "Promise?" Mel asked.

  "I promise."

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