by Josie Belle
“Hi, Sam,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Something in her tone must have demonstrated her upset because he was immediately on alert.
“I’m at the house and need you to come by,” she said.
“Are you safe?” he countered.
“Yes,” she said. She glanced around the front yard. “At least, I think so.”
“Don’t hang up,” he said. “I’m a few blocks over but I can be there in five minutes.”
Through the receiver she heard him use his radio to call into the station. She supposed it was ridiculous because if anything happened to her there really wasn’t anything Sam could do but she felt better just having a connection to him.
“What happened? Is everything okay in the house?” he asked.
Maggie knew that was his way of asking if she’d seen a ghost without him asking if she’d seen a ghost, which he couldn’t bear to do since he was such a skeptic. She smiled.
“The house is fine,” she said. “No creaks, flickers or moans.”
“Good,” he said. “Or maybe I would prefer that?”
“I think you might,” she said. “It looks like someone stopped by while I was inside and left me a surprise.”
“Hang on,” he said. “I’m pulling up now.”
“I’m on the walk in front of the house,” Maggie said.
“I see you.”
Maggie ended the call as Sam climbed out of his squad car and strode across the lawn toward her. He looked at the sleeping bags on the ground and then at her.
“Camping out tonight?” he asked as he gave her a swift hug.
Maggie gave him a lopsided smile. “Actually, they saved me from breaking my neck or my face, depending on how I would have fallen.”
Sam frowned.
“While I was inside, getting the sleeping bags for Sandy, someone rigged up fishing line across the top step,” Maggie said. “I did a lovely face-plant on the sidewalk but since I was holding the sleeping bags in my arms, they cushioned my fall.”
Sam moved forward and examined the line. “What the hell?”
“That’s what I said. It wasn’t there when I got here so it had to be someone who saw me go into the house, and they strung it while I was inside, chatting with the spirit of Captain Kasey.”
Sam turned to look at her.
“It seemed only polite,” she said.
“I love you,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “I love you, too.”
“I’m going to scout the yard,” he said. “Stay here and yell if you need me.”
Maggie nodded. While Sam disappeared around the side of the house, she picked up the sleeping bags and carefully stepped over the fishing line and sat on the porch.
She couldn’t hear Sam as he walked the perimeter. The only sounds she could hear were that of the birds still chattering before they settled in for the night and the gossiping chirp of crickets. There were no strange noises coming from the house or the street.
Sam was back shortly. He had a flashlight in hand that he switched off as he approached.
“I don’t like this,” he said. He stepped over the fishing line and sat beside Maggie. “It’s too specific to be random.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever did this knew you were in the house,” he said. “They did this with the intent to harm you. Not severely but it could have gone very badly.”
“Bored teenagers?” Maggie suggested.
“Unlikely,” he said. “No, this has to have something to do with Captain Kasey.”
“But he’s been moved,” Maggie said. “Why harm us now?”
“An injury would slow down the investigation,” he said.
“And our wedding,” Maggie said. She wondered if now would be a good time to mention that Andy had expressed her determination to bring Sam back to Richmond with her.
“Nothing is going to slow down our wedding,” Sam said. “If I have to walk a mile on broken glass, I’m going to marry you.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Maggie teased.
Sam laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “That’s because I mean it.”
And just like that Maggie had a lump in her throat and felt her love for this man expand even though she was sure she couldn’t love him any more than she already did.
“I’d do the same for you,” she said. “I love you.”
“I know,” he answered.
They were quiet for a moment.
“What do we do now?” Maggie asked.
“You go home. I know you planned to go to the library, but I’d prefer you wait on that until we have a better handle on this,” he said. “I’m going to get my fingerprint kit and see if I can pull any prints off of the railing. Then I’m going to canvass the neighborhood and see if anyone saw anything during the time you were in the house. Lastly, I am going to see if anyone has any security cameras that might cover this part of the street, but that’s a long shot.”
“You’re really good at this,” Maggie said. She’d always known he was but somehow watching him “protect and serve” their home made her appreciate his skills all the more.
“Thank you, I try,” he said.
He gave her a humble look and Maggie felt a pang in her chest. Suddenly she had to know.
“Do you miss it?” she asked.
“Miss what?”
“Being a detective in the big city where there were so many cases and so many more opportunities for investigation?”
Sam was quiet for a moment, considering her words. When he spoke his voice was low and full of feelings that Maggie hadn’t heard in him before. She had to untangle the emotional rope they were twined into and when she did she felt the threads of despair, frustration, disgust and horror twist in her palm like a live snake.
“No,” he said. “I don’t miss it. For every successful investigation, there were at least five failures. The scale was out of balance and no matter how hard I worked I could never seem to tip it in favor of the good guys. There may be less drama here but there is also less pain, a lot less pain.”
Maggie squeezed his hand in hers, letting him know she understood. Sam pulled her to her feet and scooped up the sleeping bags.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
With a kiss, a hug and a wave Sam sent her on her way. Maggie hadn’t expressed her one remaining concern with Sam, but now after his confession that he did not miss the big city detective life, she wondered if she should have.
But how was she supposed to mention, casually in conversation, that the only people who knew she was going to the house tonight had been him, her niece, Sandy, Deputy Wilson and Andy Lowenstein?
* * *
The next morning Maggie arrived at the historical society bright and early. She hadn’t been able to sleep the night before because she couldn’t stop thinking about the fishing line tied across the top step. Frankly, it creeped her out to think that someone had done that while she was in the house. To what purpose?
Sam had struck out on any witnesses or security cameras picking up anything unusual in the neighborhood. As much as Maggie would have been okay with blaming Andy for the stunt, in her heart of hearts, she just didn’t believe the other woman was capable of hurting her to get what she wanted. That left her thinking that whoever had strung the line across the porch had done it as a warning or a disruption.
When she thought of what she might have broken because of the mean stunt, she was resolved to figure out who was responsible. In the old days, her first thought would have been Summer. Okay, her only thought would have been Summer. But she didn’t think so now. It just didn’t fit. Why would Summer care about the house or the skeleton or any of it?
No, the only reasonable explanation was that it had to do with the house and Jasper Kasey’s skeleton.
The door to the historical society was open. Mary Lou Sutton was manning the desk in the corner of the room. M
aggie was relieved to find her there instead of Ruth. She wasn’t up for another lecture on maintaining the historical integrity of her house.
“Hi, Mary Lou,” she said. She held out the books she was carrying. “I’m just returning some books that Ruth lent me.”
“Oh, well, thank you,” Mary Lou said. She took the books and put them on the edge of her desk. She looked at a note on her desk, back at the books and then at Maggie. “I’ll make sure these get back on the shelf, but, um, my note here says you had three books.”
“That’s right,” Maggie said.
“You only handed me two,” Mary Lou said. She made a face like she hated to break the bad news to Maggie that she was the worst borrower ever.
“Oh no. I forgot one,” Maggie said. “Can I bring it by later?”
“That’d be fine,” Mary Lou said. “Did you find out what you needed?”
“I did,” Maggie said. “But I have more questions.”
Mary Lou laughed. “Isn’t that always the way with historical research? You find one answer and then have three more questions.”
“It sure is,” Maggie agreed. “I’m particularly interested in a man named Jasper Kasey.”
“Isn’t that the skeleton that was found in your house?” Mary Lou asked. She looked sheepish. “Sorry, it’s a small town and word travels fast.”
“No, it’s all right,” Maggie said. “The investigator is trying to verify who it is. She hasn’t determined that it is Jasper Kasey yet.”
“But you wanted to read up on him just in case,” Mary Lou said. “I get that.”
She rose from behind her desk and walked Maggie over to a vertical file along the wall.
“This is a biographical index of all of the people who have resided in and around St. Stanley for as long as we can remember,” Mary Lou said. “It’s part of my job to keep it up to date.”
Maggie had no idea such a thing existed. Mary Lou opened a drawer and Maggie could see that it was file after file of clubs, organizations and prominent citizens over the years. She pulled out the Girl Scout troop folder for the years her daughter had been a member and sure enough the file contained the troop roster and Laura Gerber was listed.
“This is incredible,” Maggie said.
“It is pretty special,” Mary Lou said. “I collect all of the club rosters, club memberships, and clip out any biographical articles from the weekly paper. As a backup, I’ve been scanning the really old documents into an online database, but I’ve only gotten through the Cs.”
“That is a huge undertaking,” Maggie said.
“It’s what they pay me for,” Mary Lou said.
“Not enough.”
Mary Lou laughed. “No, I enjoy it. It’s fascinating to read about the people who have lived in our small town.”
“Does the library know you’re doing this?” Maggie asked.
“Oh yes,” Mary Lou said. “Claire and I plan to make the database available at the library once it’s finished.”
Maggie nodded. She might have known that Claire would already have a stake in the research tool.
Mary Lou thumbed through the file folders before her. She turned back to Maggie with an apologetic face. “Sorry, but we don’t appear to have a file folder for Jasper Kasey.”
Maggie pushed down her disappointment. “Well, it was worth a shot. Do you suppose he’d be listed in any of the folders for clubs and organizations? Particularly anything from the late thirties and early forties.”
Mary Lou tapped her index finger to her lips while she thought about it. “He was military, right?”
“Yes,” Maggie said. “Air Force or at least I was told by Dennis Applebaum that he was a pilot.”
Mary Lou opened a different drawer and flipped through several folders. She pulled out a wide folder and laid it open on the top of the cabinet. Maggie could see there were lists of names and some had stars beside them.
“The ones with stars mean they were killed in battle,” Mary Lou explained. “This is a list of all of the veterans in the county from the Civil War to date.”
Maggie leaned in to get a look at the file.
“Here’s World War Two,” Mary Lou said. She was running her finger down the list. “Well, that’s odd.”
“What?” Maggie asked.
“A name has been whited out,” Mary Lou said. “And it’s exactly where Jasper Kasey would fall in the roster.”
Chapter 21
“May I see?” Maggie asked.
Mary Lou handed her the paper and sure enough in between Edward Higgins and Martin Lewis a name had been very carefully covered with Wite-Out.
“That’s weird, right?” Maggie asked.
Mary Lou shrugged. “It could have been an error, but yeah, it seems odd.”
“I’m going to need to bring this to Sheriff Collins so he can take a look at it,” Maggie said. “Maybe he can find out what’s beneath the Wite-Out.”
Mary Lou bit her lip. “I’d have to ask Ruth first. She doesn’t like anything in the file to leave the building.”
“This is a police investigation,” Maggie said. “I don’t see that she has much choice.”
“Choice about what?”
Maggie and Mary Lou spun around to see Ruth approaching, and she did not look happy.
“There’s an item here that needs to be shown to the sheriff,” Maggie said.
She was pleased that her voice was smooth and not as rattled as she felt given that Ruth was looking at her with blatant suspicion.
“Why does Sheriff Collins need to see it?” Ruth snapped. “What are you looking for specifically?”
“I was looking for information about a World War Two fighter pilot named Jasper Kasey,” Maggie said. She studied Ruth’s face for any hint of recognition. There was none. “We found where his name should be on the list of veterans from St. Stanley, but it’s been Wited-Out. Who would do that?”
Ruth glanced at the list. This time Maggie saw her lips get tight. “No one covered up the name if that’s what you’re insinuating. More than likely, it was a typo. Things weren’t done on computers back then.”
Maggie gave her a hard stare. “Maybe not, but if it isn’t Jasper Kasey’s name under the Wite-Out, whose was it?”
“No one’s,” Ruth said. “This list was typed up long after World War Two, clearly whoever did it twenty or thirty years ago made a simple mistake.”
“There’s nothing simple about this,” Maggie said. “Not if they were covering up a murder.”
Ruth gasped as if Maggie had slapped her. “Are you calling into question the integrity of the historical society?”
“No, just its members’,” Maggie said.
Two red spots of color brightened Ruth’s rouged cheeks, making her look as if she were being lit up on the inside by her anger.
“That was uncalled for,” Ruth said. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
She blinked at Maggie from behind her round spectacles and Maggie had the uncomfortable feeling that Ruth was going to cry. Guilt swamped her. When had she become a bully?
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said. “You’re right. I was out of line. This whole situation with the house has made me very tense.”
Ruth bobbed her head vigorously as if she couldn’t agree more that Maggie was behaving very badly.
“I’m going to take this list to Sheriff Collins,” Maggie said. “I think he’ll be able to have someone look at it and tell us what is under the Liquid Paper.”
Ruth opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out. When Maggie went to take the paper from Mary Lou, she clutched it close.
“Can I make a copy of it before you go?” Mary Lou asked. “I haven’t had a chance to enter it into the database and if anything happened to it . . .”
“Nothing will happen,” Maggie said. “I promise.”
“It’s critical that we not lose this list of names,” Mary Lou insisted. “Beyond your own interests, we need to have a copy.”
Magg
ie nodded in agreement and Mary Lou took the paper to a copy machine in the corner. While she ran the copy, Maggie tried to look anywhere but at Ruth. She couldn’t shake the feeling that in Ruth’s eyes she was desecrating the historical society and everything for which it stood.
She glanced at the ceiling, then the floor, then the wall. She could hear the copy machine warming up and she wondered how long this was going to take exactly.
“I heard of him once,” Ruth said.
“Excuse me?” Maggie said.
“I heard of Jasper Kasey but just once,” Ruth said.
Maggie waited for her to say more. She didn’t want Ruth to close up on her again, and she was afraid if she asked any questions, Ruth would stop talking.
“It was at a church social and I heard some of the ladies talking about Ida Dixon and why she had never married,” Ruth said. “They said the love of her life Jasper Kasey left her at the altar, which I thought was sad. She was such a pretty lady.”
Maggie said nothing, hoping Ruth would say more but she didn’t. Mary Lou returned with the original document that she’d put in a manila folder.
“I promise I’ll take very good care of it,” she said.
Ruth looked like she wanted to say something but she remained silent. Mary Lou nodded, letting Maggie know it was okay for her to go.
When the door swung shut behind her, she could have sworn she felt the eyes of the two ladies on her back as she walked down the sidewalk to the police station.
She hoped she wasn’t making too big of a deal about the list but her instincts told her that she wasn’t, that this was important and that she had to show it to Sam.
She found him in his office. The station was quiet since it was so early in the morning. Given that they had just had breakfast together a little over an hour ago, Maggie was surprised that she felt her heart do that little tap dance thing it did every time she saw him. Maybe it was the white shirt and tie he had on, maybe it was the clean shaven jaw or maybe it was the fact that he was going to be her husband in just a few weeks.
That thought instantly squashed the pitter-patter of her heart with a tsunami of anxiety. She still didn’t have a dress or a venue. Gah, she was the worst bride ever!