by Leona Fox
“I guess,” Tony said. “But it doesn’t seem like enough.”
“Realistically, there’s not much more you can do. And I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to. Remember, you lost him too, and she knows that.”
He nodded and stood up. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been very kind.”
“Something else occurs to me.” Sadie reached out and put a hand on his arm. “If you were best friends with her son, you may have spent a lot of time in her home. She is probably missing you too. Spend some time with her. That would be a kindness.”
He nodded, and Sadie thought his eyes looked extra shiny. She hoped he could eventually forgive himself.
“So are you going to eat that pastry, or not?” John asked, pulling her thoughts back to the present.
She looked at her plate in surprise. She’d forgotten her pastry? That was unheard of. “Clearly, Victor Rumsfeld’s murder is upsetting me. Although why I’m not sure. By all accounts he was an unpleasant, sourpuss tightwad who didn’t care who he walked over.” She took a bite of the croissant. “This is fabulous,” she said. “What’s it called?”
“That’s a Sadie’s Special,” he said. “This,” he lifted his coffee cup, “Is Zack’s Special Dark Brew.”
She smiled broadly. “You named a coffee after the chief. He’ll like that. And Sadie’s Special is to die for. I think you are going to do really well.”
After she’d finished stuffing her face with pastry—she’d accepted a second croissant from John—Sadie and Mr. Bradshaw headed down to the station to see Zack and tell him about the latest suspect in the growing pool of Rumsfeld haters in the town.
On the way down Main Street, Sadie ran into Justin Ives again. Or rather, he ran into her. He came around a corner muttering, his eyes focused on the sidewalk, and Sadie tried to jump out of the way but wasn’t quick enough. Justin collided with her and looked down in surprise. He was significantly taller than she was.
“Where did you come from?” he asked, frowning.
“I’m fine,” she said, “but thanks for asking.”
A deep red flush crept up his neck and she relented.
“I came from down the street,” she said. “Are you okay? Mentally, I mean. You are very distracted.”
"It's my mom," he said. "She was so rabid about old Rumsfeld, and now she's acting strange. I don't want to believe that she's capable of killing..." He trailed off.
"I don't know your mother," Sadie said, "but she raised you to know better, so she probably knows better too."
"Normally, I would agree, but somehow when it comes to me I think she's capable of more," he said. "Like a mother bear."
"Bears run on instinct, and while your mother's instincts are probably triggered by threat, she still has the ability to know right from wrong." Having covered her obligation to comfort him, she asked the burning question. "In what way is she acting strangely?"
"When I went to see her yesterday, she wouldn’t look me in the face," he said. "The whole time I was over there she was looking away. I couldn't catch her eye to save my life. And then when I left, she didn't give me a hug or a kiss. It sounds silly when I say it out loud like that, but that's not the way she usually behaves."
"I bet she's one of those moms that chase you around the room to get a hug," Sadie said. "Am I right?"
"Normally," Justin said. "But not yesterday. It's like I'm suddenly not her son anymore."
"I'm sure there's a simple explanation," Sadie said. "Let me think on it. And meanwhile, pick up your head and look where you are going. Someone will get hurt."
"Now you sound like my mom," he said. "She's always going on about people putting their eyes out."
"My mom too. She was always saying don't wave that stick around, you'll put someone's eye out, even when no one had anything like a stick in their hand." Sadie laughed. "Have you ever met anyone who put their eye out? I haven't."
"Yeah, actually, I have. There's a cop in Vermont. Put his eye out with a stick when he was a teen. He wears an eye patch."
"There's a cop with an eye patch?" Sadie asked. "You'd think that would mess with his depth perception. How can he shoot a gun?"
"I don't know, but he must do okay. It's not like he lost his eye after he became a cop. He had to have passed all the training and tests—whatever it is they make cops do." Justin shrugged.
“I guess he must,” Sadie said. “How did you find out about him?”
“One of the guys in my unit lived in the town where he’s the cop. It’s a small town in central Vermont. He told me about him,” he said.
"Which reminds me, I was on my way to see my cop. I've got things to tell him. Come on, Mr. B." Sadie gave a gentle tug on his leash.
Mr. B, who had been sniffing along the bottom of the building, perked his ears up and started forward again.
"See you later, Professor Ives," she said, and they sailed around the corner that Justin had just come around.
Down at the station, Sadie found the chief in the property room. “What are you doing hiding out down here?” she asked when she finally found him.
“We discovered some issues with our filing system after the debacle surrounding the mayor’s death,” he said. “I’m designing a new system.”
“Very efficient of you,” she said. “Giving the tax payers their money’s worth. I like it.”
“Glad you approve,” he said. “There’s something I can do for you?”
“I found you another suspect in the Rumsfeld murder,” she said and told him about Tony Benetti.
“For an upstanding citizen, Rumsfeld certainly made a lot of enemies,” the chief said. “I’ll look into it.”
“Oh, and I ran into Justin Ives on the street,” she said. “He’s worried his mother may be the killer.”
“I spoke with her,” the chief said. “She’s worried he might be the killer.”
“Well that explains why she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He thought it was because she’d done it, but it’s because she thought he’d done it.”
“They both have rock-solid alibis,” the chief said. “I’ll talk to the two of them together. Put them out of their misery. If they’d only discuss the subject they could clear it up themselves.”
“They are both so worried what they will find out about the other that they can’t bring it up,” she said. “They don’t want to know the truth because they are afraid.”
“I can fix this,” the chief said. “And thank God. It’s about time for me to get a win. Want to come with?”
“Isn’t this official police business?” she asked.
“Not really. It’s not like either of them are suspects. I’m just performing some humanitarian work. You can come along for that.”
The chief called Justin and asked him to meet them at Mrs. Ives’s house. Sadie heard the chief say not to worry, it’s all good, but she wondered if that was going to be clear enough for Justin. Well he wouldn’t be in misery for too long. They’d all be there shortly.
The chief parked the car in the shade and they cracked the windows for Mr. B, who curled up on the seat for a nap. Sadie didn’t normally leave Mr. Bradshaw alone in a car, but it was a cool day and he would be okay for a few minutes in the shade with the windows cracked.
Justin was already in the living room window when they got there, his face pinched and pale, and he looked as if he might be sick. Likewise, Justin’s mom looked worried, and she still wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes. Chief Woodstone looked at the two of them and threw up his hands in exasperation.
“For heaven sake,” he said. “I told you both everything was okay. Neither of you is a murderer. Not Justin, and not Justin’s mom. So please stop looking like the world is coming to an end.”
Justin’s mom burst into tears. Justin got up off the couch and put his arms around her. “It’s okay, mom,” he said. “I understand now why you wouldn’t look me in the face. You thought I did it.”
“No,” she said, “that’s wrong. It’s not th
at I thought you did it, but I know how tough things have been for you at the college. I was hoping that you hadn’t had a psychotic break, and I didn’t want you to see me wondering if you had.”
“Mom, that doesn’t make one bit of sense,” Justin said.
“It makes as much sense as you thinking I’d done it,” she said. “How could you even imagine such a thing?”
“You got so upset when you heard Rumsfeld was after my job. And you always protect me like you’re a mother bear or something.”
“You thought I might have had a psychotic break,” she said.
“Something like that,” Justin said. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I was worried.”
Sadie and the chief saw themselves out.
“You think they’ll be okay?” Sadie asked.
“People are remarkably resilient,” the chief said. “They’ll be back to normal within a week or so.”
“I hope so,” Sadie said. “That kind of suspicion can be awfully destructive.”
“The suspicion is gone now,” he said. “They’ll be fine.”
He dropped Sadie and Mr. Bradshaw on the sidewalk outside her shop with a reminder that he would pick her up early because he was the best man.
Betty had the music turned up and was dancing around the shop with a web buster in her hand. “Take that, Mr. Spider,” she said as Sadie and Mr. B entered. Then she shimmied over to another shelf and attacked again. “Take that, and that!”
“I’m sure the spiders are shaking in their boots,” Sadie said, but Betty couldn’t hear her over the music. She walked over to the iPod speaker and turned it down. Betty jumped.
“Oh my gosh!” she said. “You scared me. I didn’t see you come in.”
“Driving the spiders out with pop music?” Sadie asked.
“Alternative rock,” Betty said. “And a web buster. Never underestimate the power of a good web buster.” She brandished the bristly tool in the air.
“Like I said, spiders must be shaking in their boots. Are you coming to visiting hours for Rumsfeld?” Sadie asked.
“No.” Betty shook her head vigorously. “I didn’t know him, so there’s no reason for me to really go. I can go and people watch, I suppose, but everyone would know that’s why I was there.”
“So no then?” Sadie asked.
“Yeah, no. I’m not going.” Betty stabbed her web buster into the space between the shelves and the ceiling.
Sadie turned the music back up and went into her office to think. Her suspect list had been reduced to Tony Benetti, and somehow she didn’t want it to be him. She liked him, but she also knew that going to war changed people. She remembered Mr. B sitting on his lap while he drank coffee. Could Mr. B be wrong about Tony? She hoped not. Maybe he was wrong about everybody. But how could that be?
Sadie was ready when Zack came to pick her up. She wore her favorite little red dress and black heels—which made her a good three inches taller than normal. Not that even three inches got her anywhere near Zack’s height. Well, she reminded herself, there were sometimes benefits to being short.
Sadie pasted a smile on her face and did her best to pretend she was enjoying herself, but truly, there was nothing more awkward than being at a wedding where you don’t know the bride and groom. She hadn’t been thinking when Zack told her he was the best man. Bells should have gone off in her head. No, not bells, alarms. Huge, noisy fire alarms. She thought the best man probably always sat at the head table, and it should have occurred to her that they wouldn’t be sitting together. She began feeling resentful of the people at the table that she didn’t know from Adam
She chided herself. She was a big girl, and it wouldn’t hurt her to be social with people she’d only just met. She should be honored that Zack wanted to bring her with him. She made an effort to relax and smile at the people around her. No point in ruining the wedding for everyone else.
The DJ announced the best man’s speech, and Zack smiled at Sadie as he headed out onto the dance floor. Under his arm he held an old-fashioned police radio in a leather case. It was the size of a two-pound block of cheese, and she wondered what he was going to do with it. You could bash an assailant over the head with that thing and do serious damage.
“Are you sure I’m supposed to make a toast?” Zack’ voice came over the speakers. “Because I’m pretty sure I heard Jon say roast.” Laughter fluttered through the room.
“Jon may be my older brother, but I’m amazed he made it to the alter before me. I’ve always been ahead of the game when it came to girls. In fact, when we were in high school, Jon was dating a young lady who shall remain nameless but who happens to be in this room.” Zack paused to take a drink, and I watched as heads swiveled as the guests speculated on who Zack was talking about.
“Anyway, Jon brought her home, and as soon as his back was turned she came up to me and said, ‘I only dated Jon so I could meet you, Zack.’ So—” Zack paused to let the laughter die down. “So, I need to ask Barbara one question.” He turned to face the bride. “Is there anything you need to tell me?”
Laughter erupted in the room. Barbara blushed and shook her head. Jon and Zack’s dad was wiping tears from his eyes, and the bride’s sisters were holding each other and howling.
“As most of you know,” Zack continued, “Jon and I come from a long line of cops.” The crowd of buzz cuts in the room cheered. The place must have been three quarters peace officers. “My dad and Gramps are both here. And before them were four generations of men who have sworn to uphold the law in one form or another. And it was clear from the very beginning that Jon would follow in my father’s footsteps.” Zack pulled the radio from the leather holster. “This is Jon’s very first police radio, created by him at age five.” The ‘radio’ was a block of wood with a leather strap stapled to the back. Knobs and dials were painted on the front. The crowd cheered and laughed, and Zack went back to his seat, cuffing his brother on the head as he went by. He paused to kiss the bride on the cheek, and they exchanged a few words.
A minute later he slid into the seat next to Sadie.
“The bride released me from my duties. She figured she’s in charge of Jon now and it was only fitting that I join my guest.” He slid his arm around her shoulder. “How did you like my speech?”
“It made everyone laugh. That’s good, right? And it had the added bonus of being short and to the point. So I’ll give you a nine on a scale of one to ten. Where did you get that old toy?” Sadie asked.
“My dad kept it. He was already a cop back then. When Jon stopped playing with it he took it to work and used it as a paper weight. It’s been there ever since,” Zack said, smiling.
“Nice. Your dad seems like a good father. Both his sons wanted to be like him when they grew up.” Sadie took a sip of wine. It was a lovely, fruity white, and she relaxed a little more.
“Yeah.” Zack’s eyes flicked to something behind Sadie. “Let me introduce you to the bride.”
She turned to find Barbara standing behind her.
“Thank you so much for coming to my wedding,” the smiling woman said. “I’m Barbara, and this is Zack’s brother, Jon. It was kind of you to come with Zack. If you hadn’t he’d be surrounded by half the women in the room. Because they agree with him, he should have been married by now!” She laughed.
“Happy to help,” Sadie said. “You seem very relaxed for a bride on her wedding day. I’m glad you’re enjoying your day.”
“She’s not the uptight type,” Jon said. “I wouldn’t have been able to marry her if she’d been a nervous nelly. Barbara never gets her panties in a twist. It’s one of the things I love about her.” He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her. She felt a pang of something akin to jealously that surprised her. Did she really want to be married? She hadn’t thought so. Perhaps it was just because she was at a wedding.
Barbara touched her on the shoulder. “Not everyone would come to a wedding if they knew they wouldn’t be able to sit next to their date. Th
ank you. Zack is very dear to me, not as dear as Jon, obviously, but I’m glad he’s not here alone.”
The bride and groom moved off. Sadie turned to Zack.
“Did she come to see me before anyone else?” she asked. “Wow. That was kind of her.”
“She wanted you to feel comfortable. She was watching you during dinner and commented on how well you were holding up talking to strangers. I wouldn’t let her sit you with a group of cops, so she picked her nicer cousins.” Zack brushed a stray red curl from her face.
“Why didn’t you want me to sit with cops?” she asked.
“Are you kidding? I’m not letting one of those leaches snatch you out from under my eye.”