Murder, Malice and Mischief

by Quinn, Lucy

  There’s a difference between country night and city night. In any city, anywhere in the world, the sky never gets really, truly black. Between streetlights and houselights and such, there’s always a dull glow somewhere. But country night is deep black. So black, sometimes, you can’t even see two feet in front of you on the ground.

  But you can see the stars. There are layers of stars and galaxies you never even knew existed until you get to the country. Every night in Saint Agnes was clear and crisp and dark as outer space. It was unnerving for some, but it had surprised me how much I loved it. It felt closer to heaven.

  The amount of cars in the lot indicated the game hadn’t ended, but what if I walked in right at the end, drawing stares from everyone? Really, I shouldn’t be interfering. Still, I found myself pushing off the Tank and heading inside. I gave my money to the girl at the ticket booth, and she stamped my hand with a cat’s head logo in an awful shade of orange. Ah, that was the mascot.

  The front lobby of the gym wasn’t crowded. A few people milled around the open windows of the concessions stand, swimming in the smell of fresh popcorn. The squeak of sneakers and low hum of crowd noise were further clues the game was still in progress.

  Anticipation rose in my throat as I made my way through the nearest doors. The bleachers rose up beside me, hands and arms hanging over or snaking through them, like they were all praying at the sanctuary of sports. Having grown up in North Carolina, I’d worshipped regularly at this altar.

  A whistle blew and the crowd gave a collective groan.

  I scanned the crowd and saw a few familiar faces, but there was no sign of Nikki Krantz. The better angels should have won out on this one. It had been wrong of me to come here, wrong of me to poke around a victim’s family like I was some kind of cop.

  Suddenly, a crush of girls in uniforms came racing down to my side of the court. The crowd’s attention followed. I took in more of the audience. No one seemed to register me, which was good. A basket swished, and the crowd jumped to their feet. I took that as my exit cue.

  I was halfway through the lobby when I heard someone yell out, “Miss Vee,” from behind me. I turned to find Leo Van Andel running across the lobby.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his face bright with a youthful glow.

  “I came looking for…” I stopped. Telling Leo that I was looking for his best friend’s mother should have been innocuous enough, but this situation was a powder keg. I was here to ask questions about her dead sister. Not a nonchalant social visit. “What are you doing here?”

  I felt like an idiot as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

  “My sister’s on the team,” he said, pointing back at the gym. “They’re pretty much slaughtering Manhattan right now.”

  “Of course.”

  “Austin was just here, too, but I think they’re gone.”

  Score. An in. I hadn’t had to awkwardly introduce the subject myself.

  I ticked my head to one side. “How is Austin, anyway?” I asked, trying to make it seem innocuous. I probably tried too hard, but Leo was usually a saint about letting me be awkward and dumb when I needed to be.

  “Good. You just saw him like two hours ago.”

  “Yeah, I just wondered. He seemed…I don’t know…like maybe not himself today. I just figured… y’know…I should check in on him.”

  Lord’s Barnacles. I was probably blushing up a red streak, I was so nervous. This shouldn’t have been so rocket-science-y. I asked questions for a living.

  “Nah. He was fine. His mom seemed a little edgy when she took him home, though.”

  “Really?” I pressed a little harder. “Did you talk to her before they left?”

  “No. She ran into the sheriff and they probably had a fight or something.”

  “A fight?” It bent my mind a little to imagine straight-faced Malcolm Dean having a fight with any woman.

  “Yeah. They haven’t been on speaking terms for awhile, I guess.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, probably, since the breakup. I mean, you don’t want to cozy up to your ex, right?” He said the words in an off-handed, Royal-You kind of way, but they bit into me. The memory of my ex—which I’d been working to repress for almost a year—surfaced in my mind. My throat burned with an answer.

  No, I didn’t want to cozy up to my ex, either.

  Wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute…

  Ex.

  “Malcolm and Nikki are exes?” I gave my head a tiny shake. “Like… she’s his ex-wife?”

  I’d heard it said the sheriff had an ex-wife somewhere, but I’d figured she was long-gone. I tried to imagine graceful, long-necked Nikki Krantz with the dark-haired Viking of a sheriff we had in Saint Agnes. A romance novel cover formed in my mind like someone had chiseled it out of a rock. Slow and deliberate.

  “Not his ex-wife. I mean Nikki dated him for a while last year, between our junior and senior year. Austin spent a lot of time at my house while they were together. I don’t think he likes Malcolm very much.” Leo stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You gonna stay for the rest of the game?”

  I weighed my options. Nikki had talked to the sheriff and then gone home. If I followed her there, I would have to be honest about why I wanted to talk to her. I’d never been to her house before, and there would be no way to pretend I was doing anything other than snooping around. On the other hand, if I stayed at the game, I might end up being able to pass myself off as an interested basketball fan. I would never have to let on that I’d come to see Nikki in the first place.

  I went to sit with Leo and his parents for the remainder of the game. Jenna and Mike were probably ten years older than me. Jenna had always been polite, though I hadn’t really met Mike before. It had the strange feeling of being introduced to your boyfriend’s parents, and I was hyper aware of the weirdness as I sat there, watching them cheer on their daughter.

  There was no way in the world that Jenna Van Andel wasn’t judging me right now. I’d felt it as soon as Leo had brought me over. The vibe was so painfully awkward, I half expected Leo not to show up at work anymore. He had always felt like my little brother, so I couldn’t understand why they felt so uncomfortable. Were they imagining Fatal Attraction scenarios? Did they think I’d followed him here?

  I should’ve just gone home.

  The game didn’t last much longer. The girls had been, in fact, slaughtering the other team. By the time the final buzzer rang, the losing score was about half the winning score. Jenna and Mike rose, trying to say an awkward goodbye to me.

  Leo was oblivious, bless his heart. He was grinning as we all walked out into the lobby. His mother was fussing about waiting for their daughter, and I saw it as an opportunity to slip away. But I found myself wondering if they might know something about Nikki.

  No pain, no gain, right?

  Besides, if I told them a partial truth about why I was there, they’d stop thinking whatever they were thinking about me and Leo.

  I swallowed my pride and smiled at Jenna Van Andel. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  Her brows went up, like she wasn’t entirely convinced she should answer. “I suppose not,” she finally said.

  “Leo mentioned that Nikki used to date Malcolm Dean, and she had a fight with him tonight before she left with Austin.” The words came tumbling out, thankfully fast. Jenna’s brows inched up a bit more, though this time I fully understood the awkwardness. It had been an awkward question.

  “I wouldn’t call it a fight.” Jenna crossed her arms. “He came in looking for her. She was sitting with us, and after they talked, she was a little agitated. But it wasn’t a fight.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Nikki doesn’t fight with anyone.”

  “I thought she and Malcolm were exes.”

  “Yeah, but they ended on amicable terms.” She waved a hand at her son. “You can’t trust Leo. He was sitting over with Austin in the student section un
til the Krantzs left. He didn’t see what happened.”

  “I think he gave her some bad news,” I said, lowering my tone to a confidential space while Leo’s dad took him to the coat rack to recover their outerwear.

  Jenna’s hand went to her throat. “What happened?”

  “Her sister passed away. She was found this afternoon, and from what I understand, it was an unpleasant scene.” There was no time to reconsider whether I should share what I knew. I just had to keep talking and hope that Jenna didn’t spend too much time wondering how I knew these things. It helped that I was a pastor. A lot of people gave me the benefit of the doubt by virtue of my title alone.

  “Claire?” She elongated the word, bringing it up hard at the end. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I heard the news from Peter Mayhew about two hours ago.”

  Leo handed a purple coat to his mother and slid on his own black jacket. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “Did Austin tell you anything about his aunt dying?”

  The young man’s thick eyebrows knitted together. “Something happened to Miss Kay?”

  Jenna shook her head, hard and fast. “No. Not Willa. His mom’s sister.”

  “His mom has a sister?” Leo said.

  “Did he say anything before he left?” she asked, a note of exasperation in her tone. When her son shook his head, she turned to her husband. “Oh, Mike. We need to stop by Nikki’s.”

  Leo’s dad seemed unmoved. “What happened?”

  “Nikki’s sister is dead.”

  That got a response from him. Wrinkled forehead, intake of breath, tightened fists. He seemed more the stoic type, so his reaction surprised me.

  “Nikki doesn’t have a sister,” Leo insisted, zipping up his jacket.

  “Let’s stop by, all three of us,” Jenna said, packing her tone with some kind of warning that only her husband apparently understood, because I was as oblivious as their son at the moment.

  “I have Advanced Chem,” Leo said with a hint of a childish whine.

  “Then we won’t stay long.”

  “We have a test tomorrow, Mom. I have to study, since I didn’t—” He glanced at his parents, each in turn, like there was something he wasn’t saying. “Besides, if you take off, somebody has to wait for Janie.”

  His mother pressed her lips into a line. I inched away slightly, feeling like I should leave to avoid being privy to any kind of family drama that might ensue. I should have encouraged Leo to do his homework earlier. Jenna sighed, turning to me.

  “Would you like to come with us, Vangie?”

  I could have swallowed my tongue, I was so surprised, but instead, I closed my mouth and nodded. “I’d like to make sure Nikki is all right.”

  “Someone needs to sit with Austin.” Jenna shot a look at Leo. “I think Mike and I should talk to Nikki, and I don’t want Austin overhearing what we’ve got to say.”

  I stoppered all my questions, hoping that if I was quiet and acquiescent enough, they might deign to share whatever was too shocking for an eighteen-year-old to hear.

  The Krantzs lived a few blocks from the school, and it didn’t take us long to get to their narrow, brown-brick, mid-century modern home with panels of clear glass inset at intervals across the front. It looked like something out of a fifties sitcom. Spiky plants. Round bushes. Orange door.

  I let Jenna and Mike approach first, and stood behind them as they rang the doorbell. Nikki Krantz answered the door in black yoga pants and a baggy pink shirt, her dark hair stick-straight, her eyes red.

  She collapsed onto Jenna’s shoulder and then widened her eyes in shock when she saw me. “Oh! Pastor Vale. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  “Please, call me Vangie.” I extended my hand and gripped hers when she offered it. I’d found that people preferred stability in grief, and I didn’t back off. She motioned for us to follow her inside.

  “Malcolm told you?” she asked as Jenna took her arm, leading her through the dark-wood-paneled hallway and into a bright, high-ceilinged kitchen.

  “Actually, Miss Vee told us,” Mike said, taking a seat at the high-topped table in the breakfast nook. There was a half-full glass of wine on it, I noticed.

  The three of them looked right at me and I felt the heat of their scrutiny. I still hadn’t quite decided whether or not I would tell Nikki that Malcolm had been to the bakery, and this seemed an odd time to say, Your sister died with my cookies in her hands. In front of all these people.

  There was no need, really. There would be a swarm on this news inside of the hour. If there wasn’t already. Between scanners, social media, and the senior center, Saint Agnes was like a zombie apocalypse where everyone consumed other people’s secrets instead of living flesh.

  “Peter Mayhew told me. I think Loretta heard it from the dispatch.”

  “Malcolm wanted me to go down to the morgue to…” Nikki’s voice wavered and she gripped the countertop. “But I told him to find Derek.”

  “What happened, Nik?” Jenna reached out to stroke her friend’s hand.

  “All I know is what Mal told me.” The elegant woman collapsed into the chair next to Mike, picking up the long-stemmed wine glass and taking a long sip.

  “I’ll go check on Austin,” I said, thumbing toward the door. We’d passed a hallway on our way to the kitchen, and I assumed it led to the bedrooms. But Nikki reached for me.

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Nik!” Jenna exclaimed, exchanging a look with her husband. “He’s gonna find out from someone. It should be you.”

  “He’s got to meet with the football coach from Annapolis again this weekend, and I don’t want him going into that meeting all ripped up over family that we never even see.”

  “The kids are going to ask him at school tomorrow, Nikki. For crying out loud,” Mike said.

  Her face crumpled, like she hadn’t considered that option. “Maybe I’ll keep him home from school.”

  “He’s a resilient kid,” Mike said. “You should tell him now. He’ll be fine, so long as you don’t tell him anything he doesn’t need to know.”

  “I can break the news if you’d like, “ I offered. “I didn’t know her at all, and it sounds like there’s some reason Austin didn’t know her. I can’t explain any of that to him, but I can warn him that people are going to be asking questions.”

  Plus, I wanted to get far enough out of the kitchen that they’d start talking about whatever they thought Austin shouldn’t hear. It didn’t take a Sherlock to deduce they were all trying not to say something important—their silent stares practically screamed it.

  “She’s a pastor, Nik. She’ll be better at this than any of us.” Jenna practically pleaded with her friend and Austin’s mother finally gave in, pointing me down the hallway to his room.

  “It’s the last one on the left.”

  When I knocked on Austin’s door, he didn’t answer at first, and I found myself listening back toward the kitchen. I took one step away, straining my ears, but they still hadn’t begun to talk.

  After a few more seconds, the door opened and Austin answered, thick headphones pulled down around his neck. His brows winged up when he saw me. “Miss Vee?”

  “Hey,” I said with an awkward wave. “Is it okay if I come in for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” He opened his door and backed into his room. It was exactly what I would have expected from a football player on his way to college. Lots of shiny posters of athletes in various poses of action, complemented by motivational posters with eagles and mountain vistas. The walls were nearly papered with them, which made sense, because the wallpaper behind it was…hideous. Pukey was the word.

  “Your mom sent me in here to talk to you about your aunt.” I sat on the edge of his neatly-made bed and he took a seat back at his desk, in front of what looked like math homework. Lots of equations.

  “You mean Miss Kay?” he asked.

  “No. Is that your aunt Willa?” I asked.

 
“Yeah. She teaches at the high school.” He waved his hand over his math homework as if calculus explained everything. In this case, maybe it did.

  “Your dad’s sister?”

  “Yeah.” Austin reached across his desk and pulled a picture frame from behind his computer monitor, handing it to me. “That’s her with my dad.”

  The photo was older. Weathered. It showed a family of four—dad with a blue cap that said Navy in big block letters, mom with a matching sweatshirt, son and daughter in gray Navy T-shirts. All dark haired and beautiful and smiling. Idyllic. Happy.

  He pointed to the girl. “That’s her. I call her Miss Kay so much, though, I forget to call her Aunt Willa.”

  “Do you have any pictures of your mom’s family?” When I handed the frame back to him, he set it in the same spot, right where he’d be able to see it when he looked at his computer screen. My heart ached for the kid, to have a reminder of his late father in front of him all the time.

  “Yeah.” He reached for the other side of the computer. This photo was just of his mom and an older woman who could have been her aged twin. The background was sandy, with familiar-looking stone structures behind them that had to be the Egyptian pyramids. In the upper corner, tucked in between the glass and the frame, was a small, cutout school picture. His mother looked fresh-faced and young in the smaller picture, and she was smiling widely—unlike in the sandy photo, where she looked almost vacant.

  “That’s my grandma,” he said, pointing to the other woman in the picture. “I never met my grandpa, or my mom’s sister.” He took the frame back and set it beside his math book. “Mom doesn’t even know I know about her.”

  I let the sentence sit there, begging for some response, but I didn’t say a word. I clammed up in the hopes that he would keep talking.

  “Grandma Barnett still has pictures of her in a scrapbook she keeps hidden, although when I asked about them one time, she lied to me about who she was.” He took a breath, like he was worried he wouldn’t be able to stop talking once he started. “Told me she was a cousin, but I found out that was a lie.”