Keeping what she hoped was a safe distance from the car, she peered in the windows and saw faded quilts, a tattered suitcase, a box of natural soaps, two smaller boxes of incense. An empty dog crate. Dog crate? A bag of sand. And she remembered Nancy saying, I always keep a bag of sand in my car for traction. Nancy? Activist turned earth mother?
She had access to Hank’s original Santa suit.
Her interest in the TAT Santa suit. It wasn’t for Hank’s sake, but for her own. Because she thought it held the notebook?
And Nancy had brought up Wisconsin. When I was in college in Wisconsin.
Liv pulled at Whiskey’s leash, backing slowly away as other pieces fell into place. The box cutter. Miriam telling Elsbeth she’d forgotten hers the night they’d fit Hank for the new suit. And Elsbeth borrowing one from Nancy’s packing table. She’d probably just returned it to Miriam’s sewing box without thinking. Nancy didn’t even have to get rid of it. The seamstresses had done it for her.
Where was Bill?
Before she’d gone ten feet, someone screamed. Whiskey went nuts; Liv nearly dropped her phone. To hell with causing a disturbance.
She punched in nine-one-one.
The door to TAT opened halfway. A hand appeared, then it was dragged back inside. The hand, looking incredibly small, grabbed the edge of the door. Grasped at the door until she was yanked back into the store. The door continued to swing open.
And it was at that moment the TAT cat slunk out from under the car and darted through the open door. Whiskey lunged, barked furiously, and tried to follow it inside.
Another scream.
Whiskey went wild.
Liv was in way over her head. She scooped Whiskey into her arms, and clutching the wriggling dog and her cell phone, she made a rush toward the street.
Before she’d gone two steps, a loud “Stop!” came from inside the store. Liv stopped. The point of a gun appeared in the doorway. A gun. A gun? A gun. Aimed at Liv.
Liv tried to swallow.
“Inside. Hurry.”
Liv had no choice, she’d rather take her chances inside than be shot in the alley.
Whiskey fought to get down. Liv held him fast and reluctantly stepped through the door and into the gun-wielding Nancy Pyne.
“Drop the phone.”
Liv dropped her phone.
“Now, go over there and sit down.” Nancy motioned her inside where Grace and Penny were huddled in the corner of the storage room. Liv didn’t see Hank anywhere.
Liv moved toward the other women, sat down, and held Whiskey in her lap, willing him to stay calm while her thoughts ran and she kept one eye on the earth mother’s pistol.
Nancy looked almost as unhappy as the others. “I wish you hadn’t figured it out, Liv. I really do.”
“But I—” didn’t, Liv thought. She hadn’t had a clue until a few minutes before in the alley. And even as the pieces fell into place, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around Nancy, the sage-burning, peacenik earth mother as a murderer.
“First I made that stupid slip about Wisconsin. I’m always so careful.” Nancy sniffed. “I got too comfortable here. Started thinking I could have a life. A . . . a life. Then when I heard you humming that song when you left the store yesterday—were you trying to warn me or threaten me?”
What song? Liv remembered Nancy saying Penny was luckier in her love life than she had been. That she had been pregnant once, back in Wisconsin, and lost the baby. But that had been earlier in the week. What song had Liv been humming when she left the store yesterday?
She searched back to yesterday’s shopping spree. She bought incense and wind chimes for her landladies and that funny one for Chaz. And left . . . she left.
And then she remembered. The one she and Chaz had been talking about the night before. Joked about even. She’d sung a parody of it as she left the store, Chaz wouldn’t need a weatherman with those silly wind chimes proclaiming the weather.
Nancy must have thought she was talking about The Weathermen. And by then, Nancy had already killed to keep her secret safe. Not Hank or Jason or Grace or Penny. But Nancy Pyne.
“Oh, Nancy.”
Nancy’s lip quivered. She looked like a sad, broken woman, not a cold-blooded killer.
“He wasn’t supposed to be there. It was a mistake. An awful, awful mistake. We didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
Nancy was one of the bombers. And she’d been on the run ever since. Liv was so astounded and saddened that she forgot to be afraid for a second. Over forty years on the run. What a horrible, unhappy life.
Liv’s phone vibrated. Nancy kicked it into the corner.
Next to Liv, Penny was trembling all over. And her eyes were so large they looked as if they might burst. Liv gave her a smile that was supposed to be reassuring. How would they ever get out of this alive?
Keep Nancy talking. That’s what Jessica Fletcher would do. But Jessica always had the police waiting behind the door. Liv’s police were all at choir practice.
Liv cleared her throat. It hurt. “Nancy, don’t do this.” Whatever this was. And Liv had a sickening idea what that might be.
“I don’t want to. Why did you have to come? I wasn’t going to hurt them. Just get the cat.”
“What?”
“Even an old cat deserves better than her.” She lifted her chin toward Grace.
On cue, the cat appeared to rub a figure eight around Nancy’s ankles.
Kind to animals; a murderer of men. But hopefully not women.
Nancy bent down and scooped the cat into her arms.
Whiskey’s headed snapped up. His ears pitched forward. Liv held him tighter. And held her breath.
“Nancy, go. We can’t stop you. And you can’t stay here. Just go while you have the chance.”
Nancy’s lip quivered; she held the cat close and rubbed her cheek along its fur.
“I liked it here. I felt like maybe it was finally home. But I’ll never find a home, never find . . . ” Her voice broke. It was pitiful.
Suddenly she straightened and turned toward Grace. “Give me the notebook and I’ll leave.”
Grace crossed her arms. “I don’t have it here.”
Of course. Grace must have found the notebook when she packed Cosgrove’s Santa suit away and put it in her trunk. Before Nancy had even come after Cosgrove. And Grace had tried to blackmail Nancy. That’s why she wasn’t disturbed when Clarence announced his bankruptcy. She thought she had found another source of cash.
“Grace, give it to her and let her go.”
Grace shrugged and sneered at the desperate woman. “You silly freak. You could have kept your stupid secret if you’d just paid up and left town. The notebook is at the bank.”
Panic flashed in Nancy’s eyes. She turned the gun on Grace. Her hand was shaking. Not a good sign.
“Nancy, go. Grace won’t tell. I’ll make her give it to me and I’ll destroy it.”
“I can’t.” The words came out in a wail. “I killed a man. I didn’t mean to. I saw him outside smoking and writing in that notebook. He slipped it away when he saw me, but I knew. The look on his face. He knew. Then he started coming into the store. Asking questions. I panicked. I didn’t mean to do it. I was happy here.”
Nancy was at the breaking point; she might kill them all out of sheer terror.
“You can tell this to the—to Bill. He’ll understand.”
“No he won’t. I don’t understand. How did this happen to me? One stupid mistake forty years ago. We just wanted to destroy the chemical factory. What they made killed people. We wanted to stop the greed, the corruption. We didn’t mean to kill anybody. The guard wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“What’s she talking about?” Penny whispered. “Is she crazy?”
Liv was afraid the pressure had gotten to be too much for Nancy. To realize that Phil Cosgrove had decided to delve into the past, now of all times, after so many years. She must have felt like a cornered animal.
But she
’s a murderer, Liv reminded herself. The death of the guard may have been unintentional, but she’d known what she was doing when she killed Phil Cosgrove.
Liv heard something. Listened. Was someone coming up the alley? Please let it be Bill. Surely he would check his messages before the performance. What if there was an emergency? This definitely qualified as one.
“And Phil Cosgrove found out?”
Nancy nodded, rubbed her cheek against that mangy cat again. If Liv hadn’t been so petrified, she would have felt sorry for her.
Definitely footsteps coming. The door banged open and in stormed Quincy Hinks. “Whoever’s blocking the alley better move that car right now.”
Nancy whirled around. The cat scratched her face. Nancy dropped the gun, which discharged, deafening everyone in the room. The cat took off. Whiskey yanked free of Liv’s arms and ran after the cat.
“I—uh, well take your time.” Quincy started to back away.
Nancy recovered quickly and knelt down to get the gun.
“Quincy, stop her,” Liv yelled. But before she or Quincy could move, Grace lunged at Nancy. “You bitch. You stupid bitch. You could have been out of here and I could be on my way to the islands.” She grabbed Nancy’s hair.
Nancy elbowed her and tried to roll away, but Grace hung on. “You stupid—”
Liv jumped up and kicked the gun across the room where it joined her cell phone, just as A.K. Pierce burst into the room, pointing something that made Nancy’s gun look like a toy.
He grabbed Grace with one hand and flicked her back toward Liv. Liv didn’t even try to catch her, but let her hit the floor. Whatever Grace had been involved in, it wasn’t nice.
He pulled Nancy to her feet just as more footsteps sounded in the alley; seconds later, four more men crowded in the doorway. Ted, Bill, Chaz, and Hank Ousterhout.
Liv burst out laughing.
“She’s in shock,” A.K. said. “Bill, call someone to pick this one up. You might as well take that one over there, too.” He indicated Grace. “From what I heard, I think we have a case of blackmail against her.”
Penny started to cry. Quincy sat beside her and patted her shoulder.
Liv stood there trying to figure out what had just happened. She watched Bill pull a pair of handcuffs from his belt and wondered if he’d worn them at choir practice. Somehow that made her want to laugh again.
Bill led Nancy gently toward the door, but she stopped when she reached Hank.
“It was all a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake,” Nancy said. And it wasn’t an excuse Liv heard in her voice. Just regret.
“Nancy?” Hank said.
“I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Hank. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was desperate. I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Come on, Nancy. Time to go.” Bill took Nancy away.
A.K. took note of the gun in the corner but didn’t pick it up. “Whose phone is that?”
“Mine,” Liv said, but it was barely a whisper.
A.K. picked it up and handed it to her. “You okay?”
She nodded. She didn’t trust her voice. Now that it was over, she felt a little like Penny looked.
She was aware of Chaz walking toward them.
He glanced at A.K. before scowling at Liv. “Hey, I was going to come to the rescue. Only I didn’t know you needed rescuing. Of all the stupid—”
“Leave her alone.”
Chaz frowned at A.K. A.K. frowned back. They were about the same height. But A.K. had it in muscle over the newspaper editor. Across the room she saw Ted grimace, then the grimace turned to a grin.
Chaz lifted both hands in defeat, but his eyes were laughing, not with humor but with something that might be self-mockery.
Sirens sounded, A.K. nodded at Liv, shot Chaz another frown for good measure, and escorted Grace outside.
Her knees suddenly too weak to hold her, Liv sank onto the nearest shipping crate.
“Are you really okay?” Chaz asked.
“Yeah. I think. Don’t tell me you were at the sing-along rehearsal, too.”
“Me? Can’t carry a tune in a bucket. No, I finally made the connection between the Wisconsin bombing and Phil Cosgrove’s murder.”
“That it was Nancy?”
Chaz nodded. “I was on my way to warn you. I tried calling, but when you didn’t answer, I figured you were in trouble. Knew I was right when I saw the mess at the Pyne Bough and the car in the alley. Jesus. You’re making me an old man.”
“Sorry.”
“You should be.” He sat beside her. “But what I don’t know is how Cosgrove stumbled onto it.”
“Maybe Bill will find out when Nancy makes her statement.”
Bill strode back in. “Okay, those two are on the way to the station. Looks like I’m going to miss the sing-along again this year.”
“The sing-along,” said Penny. “What time is it?”
Chaz looked at his watch. “Almost seven.”
Penny cast an anxious look toward Bill.
“Aw hell, at this point I guess I can wait until after the sing-along to take your statement. Get going and don’t forget anything that happened. Meese, get someone to drive her over. I’m not taking any chances on our lead soprano getting lost on the way. Ted, Hank, you go along, too.”
Meese escorted Penny out the door. Ted and Hank followed.
“Are you going to the sing-along?” Chaz asked.
“I’m planning on it, though I have to find Whiskey first and take him home. Guess I won’t be getting a shower or changing clothes, though.”
Chaz lifted an eyebrow.
“Don’t be smarmy. I was afraid we were all going to be killed.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go find the dog.”
They found Whiskey and the cat at the door of the Bookworm. Whiskey’s butt was up. He wanted to play. The cat’s back was up, which didn’t bode well for her dog.
“Whiskey, come.” Reluctantly, he obeyed.
Quincy came up beside them. “What a night. Don’t tell me what I just walked into. I don’t want to know. At least not until tomorrow.” He unlocked his door. The cat darted in before him.
“Looks like you just inherited yourself a cat,” Chaz said.
Quincy shrugged. “Every bookstore should have a cat. But I won’t be calling it Tinkerbell. Good night.” He went into the bookstore and closed the door.
Whiskey whined.
“Sorry, buddy. The fun’s over. And I need to get you home so I can go to the sing-along.”
Chaz looked at his watch. “Not enough time if you want to be there from the beginning.”
“I can’t take him with me. Ted taught him to sing.”
Chaz gave her a look. “This I gotta hear.”
“But not during the Messiah.”
“Come on. He can sit in the choir room until it’s over.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Liv and Chaz struck off across the park toward the church. Whiskey trotted along beside them.
“It’s kind of sad,” Liv said. “Make a mistake when you’re young and pay for it for the rest of your life.”
“She didn’t.”
Liv frowned at him.
“She’s been free for forty years. Forty more than the guard got.”
“I don’t think she was really free. What a lonely existence. No real friends, no companion. And she finally got caught because she couldn’t leave without saving the cat.”
“Don’t make her out to be better than she was. She came back for the notebook. She killed a man for it. She would have killed you and whoever else stood in her way.”
It was a depressing thought. Nancy had always seemed so goodwilled. Peaceful. Willing to help. Chaz was jaded, but he was right. She’d killed Phil Cosgrove, not forty years ago, but just last week. To protect herself. And for what? Had he threatened her? Was he blackmailing her like Grace had tried to do? What had Phil Cosgrove planned to do with the information he’d found?
“But Grace had
the notebook. She must have found it and the papers Cosgrove had copied. With Clarence going belly-up, she saw her chance to clean up. Surely Nancy didn’t have enough money saved to make blackmail worthwhile?”
“Who knows, Liv? We probably never will. Now, come on. We better move it if you want to be there for the opening notes.”
Somewhere during their walk across the park, the full import of what had happened hit Liv, and her knees began to wobble.
“Maybe we should stop at McCready’s first,” Chaz said. “You look like you need a brandy more than a songfest.”
Liv shook her head. What she and the whole town needed was beautiful music, shared together, the community of one another to wash away the violence and anger and fear of the last week. They needed an affirmation of life to be able to go into the season with hope and a sense of peace and a new beginning.
“Thanks, but I don’t want to be late. You go ahead.”
Chaz sighed, took her elbow, and steered her down the walk.
Light poured out of the church windows, creating a gold nimbus around the building. The doors were open, and people thronged up the steps. Several knots of people stood on the sidewalk, and as Liv and Chaz drew nearer, Liv realized that news of Nancy’s arrest had preceded them.
“Is it true?” Miriam Krause asked. “Nancy Pyne is a murderer? I just can’t believe it. She was such a nice person.”
Chaz snorted. “Just like every psychopath ever arrested. He was such a nice, quiet person. Excuse us, we have to see a preacher about a dog.” He steered Liv away from the group.
“You’re sounding especially cynical tonight,” Liv told him.
Chaz didn’t answer, just continued to guide her past curious looks and up the front steps.
Liv stopped before they went in. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming to the rescue and walking me over.”
“I was late for the rescue, and I don’t mind walking you over. You’re growing on me.”
Pastor Schorr was greeting people at the door. He took Liv’s hand. “Thank God you’re safe,” he said. “Welcome.”
He shook Chaz’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery) Page 28