Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2)

by M. Z. Andrews

  Evanee waved a hand to silence her. “I’m just curious. Do you have a personal relationship with your assistant?”

  Maddie made a face. “Why, yes, of course. We spend a lot of time together.”

  “Do you have children, Maddie?”

  “Grown children, yes,” she said.

  “Did you have a personal assistant when your children were young?”

  “I did.”

  “Did your personal assistant ever have anything to do with your children?” continued Evanee.

  Maddie sighed. “Well, of course. That was part of her duties when they were young. She picked them up from school every day.”

  Evanee glanced over at Lane. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but if I was a kid and someone was picking me up from school every day, I think I might form a relationship with them. Wouldn’t you?”

  Lane nodded. “Yep, I would.”

  “What’s your point Ms. Woods?” asked Maddie, clearly annoyed now.

  “My point is that it is extremely likely that your children had a personal relationship with your assistant. Why would it be so hard to believe that you had a relationship with your mother’s assistant?”

  Maddie lifted a shoulder. “Look, Rachel and I were very close in age when she started working for my mother. I was already of driving age, in fact. It wasn’t like I was a small child and Rachel was my nanny, Ms. Woods.”

  “I didn’t say that you were. I simply thought that perhaps you had a relationship with Rachel Dawson simply because she was in your house for the majority of the day.”

  Maddie’s face was beet red now. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ms. Woods. I truly had no relationship with Rachel. She was my mother’s assistant and that was that.”

  Lane stood quietly in the shadows. As promised, he took a backseat and let Evanee do her thing.

  “We asked Doris Church if she knew anything about the relationship between her daughter and your mother. Would you like to know what she said?”

  “Not really,” said Maddie through tight lips.

  “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. She said that Irma Cromwell was like a second mother to Rachel. Rachel adored Irma, and Irma similarly adored Rachel. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “Sweet as maple syrup,” said Maddie through a clenched jaw.

  “You seem annoyed with that relationship,” said Evanee.

  “Why in the world would I be annoyed with my mother thinking of another girl as her daughter?”

  “One has to assume that when Rachel gave birth to Lane, Irma took a liking to him as well. I mean, considering the fact that she treated Rachel like a daughter, she must’ve treated Lane like a grandson.”

  “She spoiled him, that’s for sure,” clucked Maddie, glancing over at Lane, a look of contempt on her face.

  “Truth be told, you didn’t really care for Rachel Dawson, did you, Maddie?” asked Evanee, finally showing her cards a little.

  Maddie lifted a shoulder. “Honestly? No, I wasn’t her biggest fan. But that doesn’t mean anything. If you’re insinuating that I didn’t like Rachel, so I killed her, I’ll save you’re the trouble. I didn’t start that fire. And I didn’t kill Rachel.”

  Evanee took two steps forward, closing the distance between the two women. “Even if you didn’t start that fire, I’m still curious where you were for nearly an hour between leaving Priscilla’s and the time the fire started. Where were you?”

  Maddie pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, but I think your time is up.” She started towards her office door. “I have guests coming and—”

  But Lane beat her to the door. He stood in front of it, a somber expression on his face. His arms were crossed like a bouncer at a bar. Even though he didn’t speak, his intent was clear. No one was going anywhere until the matter was settled and they had their answers.

  “You can’t trap me in my own home!” She took strides towards her desk and picked up the receiver on her phone. “I’m calling the police.”

  Evanee lifted her shoulders then. “Call them. I was just going to suggest we do that. I think the police might be interested in where you were for that hour between leaving Priscilla’s and the time the fire started. I think they’d be interested to know that you had Rachel’s dress, but it never got delivered. I think they’d be interested to know that you didn’t like Rachel and were jealous over the attention she got from your mother. Don’t you think they’d be interested to know that, Lane?”

  Lane’s head bobbed. “I think they’d be very interested to know all that.”

  Evanee smiled sweetly at Maddie Carlson. “So, be my guest. Call the police. Let’s get ’em all out here, shall we? I bet that’ll be a grand spectacle that Stoney Brook will be talking about for weeks to come.”

  Maddie’s hand dropped the phone. She put her hands on her hips and stared Evanee down. “What do you want from me?”

  “We want you to answer our questions. Where did you go when you left Priscilla’s house, and why didn’t you take Rachel her dress?”

  Maddie inhaled a deep breath as she considered her next words, then finally, she hopped up to sit on her desk. She crossed her legs, and with her palms on her desk, she leaned forward.

  “You want the truth? Fine. I’ll tell you the truth. The truth is, yes, I wasn’t very fond of Rachel Dawson. Only because I didn’t like how cozy she and Mother had gotten. Did I want her dead because of it? Absolutely not. But maybe I did feel some youthful angst towards her. I had her dress. The dress she needed for the festival, and maybe I thought I’d stress her out a little by delivering it late. Was that juvenile and childish of me? Yes. Absolutely. Did I kill her? No, I did not.”

  Evanee shook her head in disbelief. “You mean you intentionally waited to deliver the dress? Just to be mean?”

  “I’m not proud of what I did, but yes, essentially. And when I finally got there, the fire had already started. That’s it. That’s the truth. Let’s not make a federal case out of it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us that before?” asked Evanee. “When we were here the first time.”

  “Because I’m not exactly proud of the fact that I did something so spiteful. I’m a grown woman now. I understand that what I did back then was wrong. That doesn’t make it any easier to admit to. You have my sincere apologies for not mentioning it the first time you were here, but I was caught off guard.”

  “So what did you do when you left Priscilla’s house, then?”

  Maddie lifted a shoulder. “You probably won’t believe me, but a few of my friends who hadn’t left for college yet were meeting for drinks before the parade. I was stressed out. I needed a break from my mother, so I ran down to the Sports Stop and hung out with them for an hour. I had a couple drinks, and then I left to deliver the dress. But just as I said, when I got back to the fire hall, the place was already blazing.”

  Lane caught Evanee’s eye then.

  She swallowed hard. She’d caught it too. “The Sports Stop?”

  Maddie nodded. “Yeah, a lot of my friends used to hang out there.”

  “Did you happen to see Calvin Lancaster there?” asked Evanee, her heart nearly frozen in her chest.

  Maddie swallowed hard. “Calvin Lancaster?”

  “Yes, Calvin. Did you see him at the Sports Stop?”

  “Mmm,” said Maddie. Her eyes swiveled from Evanee to Lane, still guarding the doorway. “Maybe, I’m not really sure. That was a really long time ago.”

  “Maddie,” said Evanee. “Tell the truth. We could still call the cops, you know. Even if you weren’t the one that started that fire, and I’m not saying that I totally buy your story, I’m sure they’d still like to hear all this.”

  Maddie sighed, then covered her face with her hands. She rubbed the pads of her fingers against her forehead and then finally threw her hands down by her sides. “Ugh. Fine, yes, I saw Calvin there, alright?”

  Evanee took a step towards Maddie, holding a finger on her. “Maddie, did you tell Calvin th
at Rachel was at the fire hall?”

  “I mean, maybe… I’m really not sure…”

  Goose bumps skidded across Evanee’s arms. She sucked in her breath. “Maddie! You told Calvin, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t tell him so he’d go do anything to her! I swear! Never in a million years would I think that he’d do anything to hurt her.”

  “Why’d you tell him where she was?”

  Maddie shook her head. “I-I don’t know. Calvin and I were friends. I knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the fact that Rachel had moved on so quickly. She and Steve had barely been dating, and then all of a sudden they’re married and having a baby.” Maddie shrugged. “So when I came into the bar and I saw Calvin, I guess I thought he might think it was funny that I was withholding Rachel’s dress from her.”

  “Did you ever tell the police that you’d told Calvin where Rachel was that night?” asked Evanee, stunned at the confession.

  Maddie’s head shook, her eyes wide, scared.

  “Maddie!” exclaimed Evanee. “Calvin was discovered later that night drunk and with scratch marks down his face. By then, Rachel was dead! Why wouldn’t you tell the cops what you knew?”

  “Because Calvin was my friend!” she exploded. “And it was my fault that he even knew where she was! I didn’t want him to get in trouble. He was already drunk when I told him. I’m sure he didn’t know what he was doing.”

  Lane, who had done a great job of remaining quiet during that whole confession, finally stepped forward to speak. “So basically, you’ve known all along that it was Calvin that killed my mother?” His jaw was set and his fists clenched by his sides.

  Tears had filled Maddie’s eyes now, whether of guilt or fear or embarrassment, Evanee couldn’t be certain. Her voice was raspy when she spoke again. “I—I mean, I guess I’ve always assumed it was him. I don’t know for a fact, though—”

  Through gritted teeth, Lane spoke again. “For all of these years you’ve known all this, and you just let the entire town think my father had something to do with her death?”

  “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Do you have any idea what that did to me as a child? To grow up with the whole town thinking my father was a murderer?”

  Maddie held up her hands in protest. “I’m sorry, Lane. I really am. I was only trying to protect my friend,” she sobbed.

  Lane shook his head. “No, you were only trying to protect yourself. You knew you’d look bad when the town discovered that you played a part in all this. You disgust me!” With that, Lane stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

  Evanee closed her eyes for a moment. She knew she had a lot of damage control to do.

  “Evanee, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth before,” sobbed Maddie.

  “You could have saved that man a lot of pain, Maddie,” said Evanee. But she didn’t have the time to comfort Maddie Carlson. Lane was the one who needed her now. “I have to go.”

  “Tell him I’m sorry?” begged Maddie.

  Evanee stood at the door to the office. “Maddie, I don’t think sorry’s going to cut it. I have to go.”

  31

  Evanee chased after Lane as he rushed out to his truck, mumbling under his breath. “Lane, wait!”

  “Let’s go,” he shouted out the window, anger set on his face.

  Evanee scrambled into the truck and slammed the door. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to Lancaster’s house. I’m about to do what I should’ve done the first time we were there.”

  “Lane! That man is nothing but a drunk. Beating him up is only going to cause you problems.”

  Lane shook his head. “I don’t care. The man killed my mother!”

  “Look at his life, though, Lane. He’s been beating himself up for the last thirty-five years. It’s obvious! He has regret. He’s been in his own private hell for all this time. Beating him up isn’t the answer.”

  Lane pounded the palm of his hand into the steering wheel. “Evanee! Ugh! Why do you have to be so… so…?”

  “So what? So right?”

  “Ugh!” he groaned again. He was silent for a moment and then finally, he started the engine and drove away, leaving Maddie Carlson’s house behind them.

  “Now where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you home,” he said sullenly.

  Evanee stared at him. Her main worry was that he’d drop her off at the shop and then turn right around and head over to Calvin’s house. She couldn’t let him do that.

  They drove in silence all the way back to Woods Rustic Wares. When they got there, Lane pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park. Evanee sat quietly in the vehicle until Lane finally turned to look at her.

  “Well, we’re here. You gonna get out?”

  “Lane, I’m sorry about before…”

  His head turned so he was looking straight ahead at her store. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  He was quiet for a second. “Listen, I gotta go,” he finally said.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Lane…”

  He turned to look at her again. His eyes were glossy this time. “What?”

  Evanee sighed. She turned and looked out the window at her pergola covered with the pumpkins and gourds that he’d brought her. It was hard to believe that the same man who’d infuriated her the day he’d brought the pumpkins now sat next to her and she felt horrible that she’d hurt him.

  “I was just going to make a fire on the patio and have a nightcap. Would you join me?”

  Lane stared at her. Whether he was shocked that she’d asked or happy or angry with her, she couldn’t tell. His eyes were simply vacant and glassy. “Why do you want me to join you? So you can keep me from going over to Calvin Lancaster’s house and beating the ever-living piss out of him?”

  “I mean, that’s a bonus,” she said, a coy smile playing around her lips. As he started to turn, she grabbed his arm. “But that’s not why. I just want someone to sit with me.”

  “Just someone?”

  She winced. “Not just someone. I want you to sit with me.”

  It took several long seconds, but finally Lane let out the breath he’d been holding and shut off the engine. “Fine. But only because I can’t resist the smell of a bonfire.”

  Evanee quietly hopped out of his vehicle and led him around the east side of her building to the back patio. Lane followed behind her quietly. She pointed to a pile of logs and kindling.

  “You wanna get the fire started, and I’ll go find us something to drink?”

  “Now I know why you really wanted me to stay—so I’d start your fire for you.”

  Evanee smiled at him. “I am perfectly capable of starting my own fires, Lane Dawson. I invited you because…”

  He stopped fussing with the kindling and looked up at her when she stopped talking. “Because?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Because you’re my friend.”

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “We’re something,” she said softly. She swallowed hard and looked towards her back door. “I’m gonna go get those drinks now. I have coffee and wine.”

  “Got any beer?”

  She shook her head. “Fresh outta beer.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I’ll have wine, but don’t go putting it in one of those fancy-schmancy breakable glasses.” He held up his thick, calloused hands. “I’m pretty clumsy.”

  She grinned at him. “I’ll be right back.”

  A few minutes later, Evanee was back with both a wineglass and a coffee mug. Lane already had the fire started when she handed him the mug. “Here we are—a no muss, no fuss wine mug for you and a fancy-schmancy breakable glass for me.”

  He put down his fire poker and took the mug. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” She walked around her littl
e outdoor settee and curled up on her love seat with her blanket. The brisk September air already smelled of a bonfire, one of her all-time favorite scents. “Should we sit?”

  Lane looked around at his seating options. “Where do you want me?”

  “Anywhere.”

  He took the chair right next to her end table so they could look at each other.

  “Thanks for starting the fire,” said Evanee before taking a long sip of her wine.

  He nodded. “I happen to be a sucker for a nightcap around an evening fire.”

  “Do you?” said Evanee with a grin. “I happen to be a sucker for one as well. I sit out here almost every evening.”

  Lane stared at her hard then.

  Evanee shifted in her seat. His intense gaze made her feel suddenly uncomfortable. “What are you staring at?”

  He took a sip of his wine. “You.”

  Evanee looked down into her wineglass. She pulled it gently in a little circle, making the red liquid inside spin. “Do you like the wine?”

  With his elbow perched up on the armrest, he leaned his temple on his fist. “What’s the matter, Evanee? Did I make that poor of a first impression with you that you can’t even let yourself forgive me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, unable to tear her eyes off of her wine.

  “Stop it. Of course you do. You know, you didn’t make the best first impression either, and I’ve been able to forgive you.”

  “I didn’t make the…” She looked up at him sharply. “What did I do?”

  “Are you kidding? You were all, oh, my shoes, my shoes,” he said, mocking her high-pitched voice.

  “You spat tobacco on my suede boots!”

  “And you still haven’t forgiven me for it,” he said, his voice low but his eyes intent on her.

  Evanee’s left cheek puckered as her lips swished to the side. “I’ve forgiven you,” she finally whispered.

  “Then what’s the problem? You act like you don’t feel it too.”

  “Feel what too?”

  “See? You did it again,” he said, pointing at her. He shook his head. “I don’t know what else I can do. I’m not good at this stuff.”