Maia stepped out.
My first thought was that she must have come to rescue Aubrey. She was such a fan of his. Maybe she had figured out that Vernon was holding him prisoner and had come to let him out.
Then I noticed Maia was holding a rifle across her chest. Maybe she hadn’t come to let Aubrey out. Maybe she’d come to kill him.
I’m no expert on firearms, but my father is a deer hunter, and he tried to get me interested in the sport. The rifle Maia was carrying would have been right at home in a Texas deer camp. It had a long barrel. It had a scope. I could see the bolt used to cock it.
Maia was marching along, holding the rifle with its barrel pointed upward, as if she were making a training video on hunting safety. She was smiling a little. Her eyes were fixed. She walked between the cottage and Vernon’s truck, which he’d parked in the drive, and disappeared from sight.
Now how was I going to get home? If I went around the back, past the back door, Vernon might look out and see me. If I went around the front, I might run into Maia. If I went through the bushes to get to Lake Shore Drive, I’d be crashing around, and one of them would hear me.
I decided I had to cross in front of the house and peek around the corner. Maybe Maia had followed Vernon to the back door. She’d been marching forward so purposefully that I doubted she’d notice me unless I punched her between the shoulder blades.
So, feeding Monte another treat, I crossed in front of the cottage and peeked around the corner. No Maia. She’d apparently gone around the corner and was behind the house. I started to slip around on the other side of Vernon’s truck. I could hide behind it and get to Mary Street.
This would have been a good plan, if there hadn’t been a window in the cottage. Somehow I’d forgotten that, and I crossed right in front of it.
It was a miracle that neither of them saw me. But I saw what was going on inside, and I was so startled I stopped in my tracks and looked into the cottage.
I didn’t see Maia. What I saw was Vernon. He was kneeling on the kitchen floor, right where he’d been when I saw him a few seconds earlier, but he’d turned to face the door. He was holding his arms up as high as his head. He had his back to me, because he was looking out the back door.
Then I saw the rifle barrel.
It was pointed through the back door. Right at Vernon. Maia was holding her husband at gunpoint.
I couldn’t see her, but the cottage was small. I could hear Maia’s voice. She was speaking calmly and rationally.
“Don’t you see, Vernon? I had to kill Uncle Silas. He was going to lie, to tell everyone that my grandmother—my very own grandmother!—killed Dennis Grundy. I’m so sorry you interfered. Now I’m going to have to kill you.”
Maia was going to kill Vernon. And maybe Aubrey.
What could I do?
Before I could figure out the answer to that one, it was too late to think about it. I guess I got so scared I lost muscle control. I didn’t faint, scream, or wet my pants. I did something worse.
I dropped Monte.
Barking joyously, he ran for the corner of the cottage, eager to get back under that darn bathroom, where he could dig and yap at his master.
I jumped for the trailing leash, then realized I’d better let the dog go. I needed to get out of there. I probably should have run for Lake Shore Drive, but I was facing toward Mary Street, so I ran that way. As I passed the corner of the cottage, I heard a man’s voice, roaring. And I heard a scream.
I looked right, ready to duck a rifle shot—as if I could—and I saw Vernon sprawled on top of Maia. They were struggling for the rifle. Maia still had it, but Vernon was trying to take it away from her. And somehow Monte and his leash were part of the mix.
I didn’t consciously change my route, but the next thing I knew I’d joined the fray. I was kicking at Maia’s hand. Then I grabbed the butt of the rifle and yanked.
Maia was screaming, Vernon was growling, Monte was barking madly, and, from inside the cellar, Aubrey was yelling for help.
Suddenly the rifle went off. The kick made Maia lose her grip, but I still had hold of the butt. I flew backward and landed on my rear end. But I had the rifle.
Vernon was still trying to pin Maia down. Neither of them seemed to be bleeding, and I didn’t think I’d been shot, either.
I scrambled to my feet and looked at the rifle. I fought the impulse to throw it into the bushes.
Instead I yelled. “Stop fighting!” Then I threw back the bolt and cocked the rifle.
That noise got their attention. Both Maia and Vernon stopped moving, though Maia had begun to sob.
“Maia’s not the only person with deer hunters in her family,” I said. “I know how to use this thing.”
Maia sobbed. “But you’re dead!” she said. “I tried so hard to kill you. The police said you had disappeared.”
“I’m back,” I said. “And you’d better not move a muscle.”
It took me a few seconds to figure out what I wanted them to do. After all, we were in a deserted spot. Even firing off a rifle was not guaranteed to bring the cops running. I had two prisoners—three if you counted Aubrey. What was I going to do with them? March down the road to Aunt Nettie’s? That didn’t seem like a sensible idea. Finally I figured out a simple plan.
“Vernon,” I said. “Dump Maia down in that cellar with Aubrey.”
Both of them were tangled in Monte’s leash, so it wasn’t easy. Maia fought and screamed, but Vernon finally managed to get her into the cellar. He’d removed any stairs or ladder that had once been there, so he just dropped her over the edge. Then he turned to me. He looked relieved. “That’ll keep her safe for the moment.”
I still had the rifle pointed at him. “Now you. Into the cellar.”
“But, Lee, I didn’t kill anybody! I just penned Aubrey up to keep Maia from killing him!”
“I don’t care why you did it. Get down there.”
He still hesitated, and I spoke again. “If you leave them down there alone, they’ll kill each other.”
He grimaced, knelt and slid into the cellar feet first. Just before his head disappeared, I spoke again. “Wait! Where’s the padlock? And the key?”
“They’re on the counter.”
Monte had been whining, wanting to go down in the cellar and join his master. Luckily, he was afraid to jump that far. I was able to scoop him up, swing the trapdoor shut, and lock it. I hid the rifle under the porch.
Then I ran for Aunt Nettie’s, still holding Monte in my arms.
I pounded along, down the overgrown road that led to Silas’s apple orchard. Then I turned onto Mary Street and began to run down the sandy lane. I felt as if I was home free.
Until I rounded a curve, and I collided with a tree trunk.
At least that’s what it seemed like at the moment. I ran right into a tall, thin, hard thing that loomed up right in the middle of the road.
The tall thing and I were lying in a heap before I realized I had run headlong into Joe.
I dropped the dog and threw my arms around Joe’s neck. “Everyone’s gone besieged! I mean, berserk! I locked them up!”
But Joe wasn’t listening to me. He was talking. “Lee! Lee! If anyone’s done anything to hurt you, I’ll kill ’em! I couldn’t go on living without you!”
Chapter 20
Then we spoke—or maybe we yelled incoher ently—at the same time. I said, “Where did you come from?” Joe said, “Did you tangle with Maia?”
“I tangled with Maia! With Vernon! And with Aubrey! With every nut on the lakeshore!”
“You found Aubrey? Hogan was sure he was dead.”
“He wasn’t a minute ago, but he may be now. He’s locked in the cellar of the Grundy cottage with Maia and Vernon.”
“You’re kidding! How did that happen?”
“It was the only way I could think of to make the three of them stay put. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. We heard the shots. Nettie’s calling the cops.”
It was the most romantic thing anybody ever said to me. Joe didn’t want to get married. He wanted to marry me.
We might have sat in the dirt, snuggling, for a long time, but Monte decided he needed attention. He wiggled in between us, put his front paws on Joe’s shoulders, and began to lick his face. We both laughed, and we were getting to our feet when I heard footsteps, coming fast. It was, of course, Aunt Nettie. She hugged my neck. The tears in her eyes told me how relieved she was to see me alive and unhurt.
“I’ll go to the Grundy cottage and wait for the chief,” Joe said. “You two go back to the house.”
“The rifle’s under the bathroom,” I said.
“How did it get there?”
“I wanted to hide it after I locked everybody in the cellar.”
Joe closed his eyes and shook his head. “Let’s not go into it. You’ll have to make a statement later.” Then he kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll just have to remember that Texas gals can be pretty fierce. They can face down three villains armed with rifles and come out on top.”
He trotted off down the road toward the Grundy cottage. Aunt Nettie and I went back to her house, and I took a shower and washed my hair. It took two washes and three rinses before I felt spider-free.
Aunt Nettie kept stalling about dinner. It was eight o’clock, and I was getting pretty hungry when Joe and Chief Jones showed up, and I realized why she’d been waiting.
The chief came in the dining room, put his hands on his hips, stared at me, and shook his head slowly. “Lee, what are you? Some kind of vigilante? Vernon says you grabbed that rifle away from Maia and threw the two of them down in that cellar without even letting go of the pup.”
“Actually, the puppy accomplished it all. He distracted Maia. That let Vernon jump her. Then Monte wound both of them up in his leash. I didn’t try to grab the rifle until he had them subdued.”
“That’s not the way Vernon tells it.”
“Maybe Monte and I worked as a team. But is what Maia said true? Did she kill her uncle?”
“She’s saying she did,” Hogan said.
Aunt Nettie interrupted to insist that Joe and Hogan join us for dinner. It wasn’t too hard for her to persuade them; especially when she said she’d hoped they’d come by, so she’d cooked enough for four. “And don’t explain anything until I come,” she said. “Just make small talk.”
Ten minutes later she had a platter of bratwurst and sauerkraut on the table, along with carrot and raisin salad and two kinds of bread from the good bakery. “You’ll have to talk and eat at the same time,” Aunt Nettie said. “Lee and I have a lot of questions.”
I asked the first one. “Hogan, is Maia explaining why she killed Silas Snow?”
“Not very clearly. Something about her grandmother. Since her grandmother’s been dead since the 1930s, that’s hard to understand.”
“Was her grandmother the mother of Julia Snow? Or the wicked stepmother, the one in the book?”
Aunt Nettie answered. “I’ve been asking the ladies in the shop,” she said. “She was the stepmother. Julia’s father—I think his name was William Snow—had been left a widower with the one daughter, Julia. I guess he sort of let her grow up on her own. Finally, when Julia was fourteen, he married again. The second wife, Ellen, was only eighteen. Naturally, she and Julia didn’t get along. She had a new baby the first year she and William were married. That was Maia’s mother. Ellen had another baby the year after Julia ran off. Silas. But her health wasn’t good. She went over to Jackson and stayed with relatives while she was pregnant. And she died, or so they said, when Silas was born. Silas and Maia’s mother were raised by William’s sister.”
The chief stopped with his fork in the air. “Did you say, ‘Or so they said?’ Didn’t the ladies in the shop think this second Mrs. Snow really died?”
Aunt Nettie sighed. “Hazel asked her mother, who’s way over ninety but sharp as a tack. And she said that the stepmother was sort of nutty. She hadn’t mentioned being pregnant again to anybody in the neighborhood. And she left the first baby behind; William’s sister came to take care of her. At the time, there was some gossip about the new baby, Silas. Some people thought he looked a lot more like Julia than like the stepmother.”
I gasped. “That fits right in with what Dolly told us. Julia told Dolly that ‘her family’ killed her lover. She blamed her father, I’m sure. But if it had really been her stepmother . . . Well, there’s a situation.”
Joe shook his head. “If the two women—both of them just teenagers—had been rivals not only in the household, but also for the affections of this gangstertype, they certainly had the makings of a hot situation.”
“Darn,” I said. “Maybe it would make a good movie.”
We all thought that over, then Aunt Nettie went on. “Dolly’s grandmother, Julia Snow, told Dolly her baby by Dennis Grundy had been adopted. But her father could have arranged to take the baby himself.”
Hogan shook his head. “That would make Silas the son of Julia Snow and Dennis Grundy. Hard to believe.”
“And who knows what happened to the stepmother, Ellen,” I said. “Even if William wasn’t willing to turn her in for murder, he may have thrown her out. If he didn’t kill Dennis Grundy himself.”
“We’ll never figure all that out,” Hogan said. “It’s been too long. But I can see that, if Silas told Maia a story so different from what she’d written—well, she was none too stable to begin with. She might have thought it would ruin the chances that her book would be the basis of a movie. It could well have pushed her over the edge. And she picked up the shovel.”
I shuddered. “But how did Vernon get involved?”
“His story is that he found Maia standing over her uncle’s body. He got her home, then made her take a long shower. He told her to say that they’d been together at the house from four o’clock until Aubrey and Nettie came to pick them up at seven.”
“But Maggie had come by their house.”
“Right. Actually, they could have claimed they didn’t hear the doorbell for the shower. Or some other reason. We wouldn’t have been able to disprove it. But Maia’s too nutty to cover up anymore, and Vernon’s—well, resigned is the best word, I guess. He did all he could to protect her.”
Joe spoke then. “Actually, Vernon claims he was simply trying to keep her from killing anybody else until he could get her committed.”
The chief made a growling noise. “Not that that would have kept us from charging her. But he thought it would.”
I remembered how Vernon had sobbed after I told him Aubrey was probably a con man. To realize that Maia had killed her uncle because she had a false idea her book was going to be made into a movie would have been hard to take. That raised another question, and I asked it. “Why did Maia try to kill Aubrey?”
“Because Vernon told her it looked like he was a crook. Then he mentioned he’d told Armstrong he could go over to the Grundy cottage. Next thing he knew, or so he claims, Maia had slipped out of the house and her deer rifle was gone. When he heard that somebody had taken a shot at Aubrey, he didn’t know just what to do.”
“He tried to drug her,” I said. Joe and Hogan both stared at me, openmouthed, but Aunt Nettie nodded.
We told them about going out to Ensminger house on a condolence call and finding that Maia was out and Vernon wanted to know why she hadn’t taken her medicine. Then, when I went back a day later, Maia was none too coherent. “I guess when Vernon co
uldn’t keep Maia at home, he kidnapped Aubrey to keep him out of her way,” I said.
“That’s his story, anyway.” Hogan shrugged. “I’ll leave the charges up to the prosecutors.”
Hogan took a big bite of bratwurst, and Aunt Nettie spoke. “But why did Maia try to kill Lee?”
Hogan nodded toward Joe, and Joe took up the tale. “That first time we went to the Grundy cottage, Lee and I walked back into the orchard. We noticed a fruit ladder by a big maple tree. But right about then, you and Aubrey called out that you were ready to go, so we turned around and went back. What Lee and I didn’t notice was that Maia was up in that tree.”
“What!” I gasped. “And we didn’t see her?”
“No, the leaves were thick. But as near as the lab guys can tell from the angle of the shot that hit Aubrey’s van, the rifle was fired from up in that tree.” Joe gestured with his fork. “Lee, when you went out to the Ensminger place and saw Maia, did you mention that tree?”
“Not that I can remember. I asked Vernon some questions about orchards. Maybe I mentioned ladders. Or something.”
“Whatever you said, Maia interpreted it as a threat. She decided to lure you out to the lonely end of Inland Road and take care of the situation.”
Aunt Nettie suddenly dabbed at her eyes with her napkin, then left the table. I started to go after her, but Hogan waved me back into my chair.
“Let me,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of experience with tearful ladies.”
Joe and I stared at our plates. Then he reached over and squeezed my hand.
“Don’t say anything,” I said. “You don’t want two weeping women on your hands.”
He grinned. “Maybe you’d like to know what Ken was doing hanging around Snow’s place.”
“What?”
“Looking for property. He thought Silas might sell him an acre or so, maybe even the Grundy cottage. He and Maggie had talked about building a house.”
“I thought they were interested in buying Lindy and Tony’s house and remodeling.”
“They were. They are still, I guess.”
“But Maggie called Lindy and told her they might be leaving Warner Pier.”
The Chocolate Puppy Puzzle Page 19