String of Lies

by Mary Ellen Hughes

  He turned from the window, then crossed the room, moving past her again to her front hallway. She heard him enter her bathroom. Jo sat for a moment, confused, poised for action but not knowing what that action should be. Randy hadn’t warned her to stay put, hadn’t seemed to even be thinking of her, but most importantly hadn’t taken the receiver of her cordless phone with him. Would she have time to call for help?

  Before she could think any further, Jo heard a groan, then a noise as of something dropping on her bathroom floor. Something heavy. She jumped up.

  “Randy?”

  Jo suddenly knew what had happened and rushed to the bathroom. The door was closed.

  “Randy?” she called, and getting no response pushed at the door. She couldn’t open it more than a few inches. Something pressed against it on the other side, holding it. She pressed harder, looking down at her bathroom’s black and white checkered tile. When she saw red slowly seep over the squares, she moaned.

  “Oh, Randy.”

  Jo ran to her phone and punched 9-1-1.

  “Please get an ambulance over here right away!” she shouted. “A man is bleeding to death!”

  CHAPTER 27

  Jo realized she was clutching her middle, holding her arms wrapped tightly against her stomach. Was it because of what she pictured about Randy? Was she mentally trying to keep his blood from spilling out by holding her own in? She tried to relax, but found it impossible.

  The ambulance arrived, and she waved the paramedics into the house, rushing through an explanation of what she thought had happened. Then she backed away to give them room to work, hearing their shouted commands back and forth, their radios crackling, and hoping against hope they had come in time.

  “Come on, guy, stay with me,” she finally heard one say, and she collapsed into the chair Randy had so recently occupied. He was alive. At least there was that. But alive for how long? And for what? What was Randy’s fate after that?

  A stretcher was brought in and soon wheeled out with Randy bundled onto it, hooked up to an IV as well as other instruments Jo could not identify. As the team took him out to the ambulance, one paramedic, a burly man with a kind face, approached Jo.

  “What about you? Are you all right? Do you want to go to the hospital?”

  Jo shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  “How about calling someone? The cops will be here any minute, but you should have someone with you.”

  Jo looked up at him. Before she could respond, a deep voice at her open front door answered for her.

  “She’ll have someone with her.”

  Russ Morgan came in, flashing his badge and dismissing the paramedic. As he approached, Jo stood up, feeling suddenly unsteady. She took a step toward him, then wavered and fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms about her, and she could feel his head shaking back and forth.

  “When,” he asked, “are you going to start trusting us to do our job?”

  “Right now,” she said into the wool of his jacket. “I’m putting this whole thing in your hands as of this moment.”

  “About time.”

  <><><>

  “The coffee will be ready in half a sec’,” Carrie said to the small group gathered in her family room

  Jo looked around at the four who had shown up on the Brenner doorstep one by one, wanting to assure themselves that Jo was in fact all right: Ina Mae, Loralee, Javonne, and Vernon. An hour or so earlier, Carrie, horrified to learn what happened, had instantly closed up shop and rushed to Jo’s place. Jo, by that time, had given her full account of the ordeal to Russ Morgan, who then relinquished her to Carrie to take to her home, after first exacting a promise from Jo that she would stay put and allow herself to be fussed over. It wasn’t a difficult promise to make.

  “Take a seat, Jo,” Ina Mae said, patting the sofa cushion next to her. “You shouldn’t be on your feet. You’ve gone through an extremely stressful time.”

  “Yes indeed,” Loralee agreed. “I still think they should have taken you right to the hospital.”

  “The hospital staff,” Jo said, “had more important things to attend to besides patting my hand.”

  Ina Mae nodded. “Randy Truitt. He did do some terrible things, but I can’t help feeling badly for him.”

  Loralee grew teary-eyed. “If we’d only known what he was going through. Here we all thought Randy had brought his problems on himself. If we’d only realized what Parker Holt was doing to him from the beginning.”

  “From what Jo’s told us, Randy wasn’t exactly guilt-free back when it all started,” Javonne pointed out. “He did cause that boy’s death by his reckless driving.”

  “But from what I understand,” Ina Mae said, “he wouldn’t have been driving that way at all if it weren’t for Parker. Which just goes to show how important it is to choose ones companions wisely when in your teen years.” Ina Mae looked over her glasses toward Charlie as she said this. Charlie, who had wandered to the doorway from the kitchen, did a rapid backpedal, bringing the first, small smile of the evening to Jo’s lips.

  “I could kick myself,” Vernon said, “for not stopping in at your Craft Shop this afternoon. I had parked in your lot and thought of doing just that since Evelyn asked if I’d make her another set of earrings for a wedding that’s coming up. But I put it off, thinking there was no hurry, and I was eager to pick up a book that Jim Wald ordered for me. A how-to-do-it on making wine at home.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “if I’d gone into your shop, Carrie would have said something about you not being there and I could have told her I’d seen your car in the lot.”

  “If I’d only stepped outside myself,” Carrie said, “I’d have seen Jo’s car myself and known something was wrong. Especially with the lunches you bought for us, Jo, sitting right there on the seat.”

  “Who steps outside for a breath of air in the middle of January?” Javonne asked reasonably.

  “Indeed,” Ina Mae agreed. “It was all most unfortunate that Randy managed to pirate you away, Jo, when everyone around was preoccupied with their everyday doings.”

  “You got that right,” Dan said, carrying a steaming mug into the room. He had obviously helped himself to the first of his wife’s fresh brew, and Carrie popped up with a mildly exasperated look at her husband.

  “Let me get the rest of you some coffee,” she said.

  Javonne followed Carrie into the kitchen to help.

  Dan stepped aside to give them room, seemingly oblivious to his faux pas, and finished his thought. “People might as well have blinders on when they’re busy running errands. My own huge mistake was letting that Truitt guy overhear the alarm code for Parker Holt’s house.”

  Jo reassured him. “Nobody would expect that someone would be listening to them on the other side of the bushes. Besides, if he hadn’t chanced to hear that, I suspect Randy would have come up with some other plan. Attack Parker in his driveway, perhaps.”

  “Maybe,” Dan acknowledged. “But then it might not have looked so bad for Xavier.”

  “Xavier!” Loralee cried. “Does he know what happened? Is he aware he’s off the hook?”

  “We’ve called him,” Carrie said, bringing in a tray of filled coffee mugs and setting it down on the low table. Javonne followed, carrying cream and sugar, napkins and spoons. “He was so relieved! I could hear tears in his voice. Did you hear that too, Jo?”

  Jo nodded. “I did. I spoke to Sylvia too. She’s on bed-rest, you know, which must be awful, but her only complaint was that she couldn’t rush over to give me a great big hug.”

  “What a dear person,” Loralee said. “I’ll have to stop in and see her. I’ll take a nice big cake that they can celebrate with.”

  “I want to see them too,” Jo said. “I still have something to talk about with Xavier.”

  Carrie gave Jo a look that said she understood what she meant, but said nothing as she began passing out the coffee to the group.

  CHAPTER 28

  Three day
s later, Jo stood looking out the window of her shop. Carrie had gone to the back room for a box of knitting needles she needed to restock the rack out front. Things had finally quieted down after a blizzard of news-hungry customers in the first day she’d reopened, and Jo was relieved to feel that things were returning to normal, although what “normal” was, was becoming hard to define. “Quieter” was probably the better word. She thought about her visit a couple of days earlier to Xavier and Sylvia.

  Since Sylvia was on bed rest, Xavier had brought Jo into the bedroom where they’d pulled up chairs close to Sylvia’s bed, each holding a mug of coffee that Xavier had made. Sylvia sipped at the water she kept on the table beside her.

  “We are so grateful,” Sylvia said, holding out her hand for Jo to clasp. “If it weren’t for you, Xavier would be in jail.”

  Xavier had added his thanks, emotion choking most of his words.

  “I’m happy this ordeal is over for you,” Jo said. “And I’m delighted to see you looking so well, Sylvia. Obviously you’ve been sleeping much better lately. But there’s still something bothering me, and I hope, Xavier, you can clear it up.”

  “Yes, senora, whatever I can do for you.”

  “The police kept hammering at you for several reasons, but a large part of it had to do with your lack of alibi for the critical times surrounding the murders. I believed you from the first, Xavier, that you were innocent. But I also felt you hadn’t told me the whole truth.”

  Xavier looked over to Sylvia and she nodded. “Tell her,” she said. “Jo deserves to know, after what she has done for us.”

  Xavier heaved a great sigh. “Yes, you should understand, senora.” He drew in a breath. “It was Sylvia’s cousin, Miguel.”

  “Her cousin?” Jo asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “Miguel, he was here illegally. Sylvia and I, we have our papers. We do it the right way. We will be American citizens very soon if all goes well. But Miguel, he could not wait. He want to come right away, make money. So he come, even though we warned him not to do it, and he got a job working with chickens on the Eastern Shore.

  “Then he was warned the INS was coming, that they were going to raid the plant where he works. He had to get out of there right away or he be in jail. He could not even go back to the place where he was living. He call us for help.”

  Sylvia broke in at this point. “It was me who begged Xavier to help Miguel. It was very wrong, I know, but Miguel is my cousin! How could I turn away?”

  “The day Mr. Holt was murdered,” Xavier said, “after Mr. Brenner and me we finish work and quit early, I did not go to grocery store like I say. I go to pick up Miguel and take him to my friend’s house outside of Annapolis to stay for a few days.” Xavier looked earnestly at Jo. “This was very dangerous for both of us, for my friend and for me. Helping Miguel hide is not right thing to do, we both know that. It could get us in much trouble. I could not tell police where I was when Mr. Holt was killed. My friend, who was very good to help, would go to jail. Maybe sent back to Mexico. I could not do that to him.”

  “And Xavier too,” Sylvia added. “He would be in trouble because of what I ask him to do.”

  Jo nodded. Truly stuck between a rock and a hard place. Xavier’s loyalty to his friend, though, might have cost him much more than his citizenship. “Where is Miguel now?” she asked.

  “He’s on his way home, back to Mexico, senora. We gave him what little money we had so he could go, but we said we would not help him anymore to stay.”

  “We’re so sorry we had to lie about the grocery store,” Sylvia said, looking genuinely distressed.

  “Miguel put you in a very difficult situation,” Jo said, though thinking they had made some unfortunate decisions themselves. “But thankfully it’s over now. I’m glad you cleared that up for me.”

  Sylvia and Xavier had both looked so relieved that their friend wasn’t angry that Jo was happy to soon change the subject to the much more neutral one of Sylvia’s possible future handbag production.

  Carrie’s voice startled Jo back to the present as she called from the stock room. “I think you’d better order some more Valentine paper.” She stuck her head out the door. “And we’re getting low, it looks like, on certain beads. You might want to check them over.”

  “Yes,” Jo said. “I meant to do that, before, ah, things got in the way. Thanks for reminding me.”

  Carrie brought her box of knitting needles to the front and set about filling up the rack. As Jo started to turn away from the window, she spotted Loralee coming down the street toward the shop. The warmer temperatures of the last few days had melted away much of the snow, and Loralee looked to be fairly bouncing down the cleared sidewalk, moving with a liveliness that Jo hadn’t seen in her friend in quite a while. Jo smiled, wondering if the reason for that cheeriness might be connected to the conversation Jo had had with Lucy Kunkle the day before.

  Lucy had called Jo, full of concern for her well being as well as gratitude. “You took such a huge burden from our dear Mallory,” Lucy said. “She never admitted it, but I’m sure that not truly knowing who had set that awful trap for Parker was a terrible strain on her. You’ve given her closure, Mrs. McAllister.” She had gone on to say how she and the mayor were in her debt and that Jo had only to ask and they would do whatever was in their power to repay her. Jo had begun to politely wave away the offer when an idea suddenly occurred to her which she shared with Lucy. She hoped, soon, to learn if what she had asked for had in fact been within Lucy and Warren Kunkle’s power.

  “Isn’t it a lovely day?” Loralee sang out as she pulled the craft shop door open.

  “Hi, Loralee,” Carrie called from her knitting area. “It certainly is. What brings you here today?”

  “I wanted to tell you that I’ve just been to see your husband,” Loralee said, her eyes dancing.

  “Dan? That’s nice, but whatever for?”

  “To discuss a project.” Loralee set down her large tote and waited for Jo and Carrie to draw closer.

  “What project is that?” Jo asked, hoping she was guessing correctly.

  “Building a mother-in-law suite on my house!” Loralee clapped her hands. “Isn’t it wonderful! I got the news yesterday and could hardly believe it! The zoning board has reconsidered. They’re allowing me a variance so I can have the addition put on that I wanted.”

  “That’s wonderful, Loralee,” Jo said, mentally rejoicing over the power of politics. The Kunkle’s had come through!

  “I’m so delighted. Dulcie and Ken will able to move to Abbotsville, and we’ll all be close by, and I’ll have my little garden to work in.”

  “And your car to continue to drive,” Jo added, knowing what that meant to Loralee as well.

  “Indeed. And,” Loralee said, turning to Carrie, “Dan said he can definitely build it within my budget - the money I won’t be spending now on a condo at Pheasant Run - and he can get started almost immediately. All we have to do is work out a few details.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Carrie said, her eyes shining, and Jo knew she was thinking about Dan finally getting work to do after so many projects had been cancelled.

  Loralee must have been thinking of that too, since she said, “I wanted to be the first in line for Dan’s time. I know, now that this murder thing is all cleared up, that his old customers will be flooding back.”

  “Well, they certainly might, once they see you’re trusting him enough to hire him.”

  “Trust!” Loralee cried, flapping a hand dismissively. “Trust is a given. I wouldn’t invest this amount of money with any other man besides Dan. And with Xavier, of course, helping. Which reminds me, Jo, I’ve been to see Xavier and Sylvia and we talked, among many other things, about their baby-to-be. Did you know it’s going to be a girl?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Jo smiled.

  “Yes, the doctors did a sonogram while Sylvia was at the hospital to make sure things were okay, and that’s when they found out. An
d,” Loralee said, her eyes dancing once again, “guess what they plan to name her, now that they know.”

  Loralee was certainly in the mood for announcements today. “What, Loralee?” Jo asked, happy to play along.

  “They want to name her Jo!”

  “Oh! Wow!”

  “That’s terrific,” Carrie cried.

  “Isn’t it? Actually, it’ll be Jovita, which will satisfy Sylvia’s mother, but they will call her Jo. I told them they couldn’t have come up with a more perfect name.”

  “Maybe,” Carrie said, throwing Jo a teasing look, “they’d like to use Jo’s full name. The one that’s actually on her birth certificate.”

  “What’s that?” Loralee asked. “I always assumed Jo was short for Joanne.”

  “No,” Jo said, tossing Carrie a warning grin, “but we don’t need to go into that. Jovita is lovely. They’ll be much happier with that.”

  “Well,” Loralee began, looking like she did want to go into that, but happily for Jo the Craft Corner’s door dinged as Javonne walked in.

  “Hi, all!” she called. “I saw you heading here, Loralee, so I thought I’d pop in and catch everyone up on something I just heard.”

  “Isn’t Harry’s office open today?” Loralee asked.

  “Oh yes, which is exactly where I learned this. Harry has a break between patients, so I’m taking the chance to run over to the school to drop off James’s lunch, which he left behind on the kitchen counter this morning.

  “Anyway,” Javonne drew a breath, “Sue Doyle was getting her teeth cleaned this morning. She lives right across the street from the Bannisters and she says Kevin’s moved out, and she’s pretty sure they’re heading for divorce.”

  “Oh, my,” Loralee said, shaking her head.

  “Well, Heather wasn’t guilty of murder,” Carrie said, “but from what you told me, Jo, she wasn’t exactly innocent.”