The Sounds of Home

by Greenwood Muir, Diane

  She started with Caleb and JaRon, knowing they needed the most help to get into their beds. The blanket with the toys on top was lying in a pile in a corner and the boys were in their pajamas.

  "Did you brush your teeth?" Polly asked. When they shook their heads, she pointed. "Go do that. Go to the bathroom, wash your hands, brush your teeth and come back." She followed them and walked into Noah and Elijah's room, where it looked like a tornado had torn through. "You two need to clean up before bed, too. Bathroom, teeth, hands. I'll wait."

  There was no argument from any of the boys. While she sat at Noah's desk, Polly re-dressed the first doll. It didn't take much work, but Cassidy would have been at it forever. The noise in the bathroom was subdued, unusual for this time of night. She left the dolls and followed Caleb and JaRon back to their room. The boys climbed into their beds and Polly sat down beside Caleb.

  He turned his back on her, so she stood up and bent across him to kiss his cheek. "I love you, Caleb. Very much. I'll see you in the morning." Polly turned back to JaRon, who was struggling with his sheet. She pulled it up to his shoulders and smiled down at him. "I love you, sweetie. I'll see you in the morning." When she bent to kiss his cheek, he wrapped his arms around her neck.

  "I'm sorry I was a bad boy. Don't be mad at me."

  "Thank you," she said. "It's over but for the punishment. I'm not still mad at you. I'm not mad at any of you. I love you both. Good night."

  Polly stood in the doorway and watched them a moment before she flipped the light off and pulled the door halfway closed. The dogs would find their way into a bed throughout the night. The boys hated missing out on that.

  When she got back to Elijah and Noah's room, the two had already turned their light off and were in their beds. Polly stepped in and flipped the light back on. She was terrified of walking across the room with their toys scattered on the floor.

  "Elijah, my boy, I love you," she said, sitting down beside him.

  "But?"

  "No but. I just love you. I'll see you in the morning."

  "It was my fault," he said.

  "I'm not worried about fault. We'll fix it all starting tomorrow. You sleep tonight and don't forget I love you."

  "I love you, too, Polly." He sat up and hugged her. "I'm sorry."

  "Thank you." She let him hold on until he released her and then she gave a final squeeze. This boy was so filled with love. He was filled with so much that he didn't always know how to release it. But he'd learn.

  She went over to Noah's bed and sat beside him. Tears streamed down his face. "What's wrong, honey?"

  "I'm the oldest. I should know better. We disappointed you and I'm sorry."

  "Oh, baby, I love you so much. You have such a tender heart. When I'm disappointed it's because I know you can do so much better if you try. Tomorrow we try again."

  "I'm not going to get to work at the barn this week, am I?"

  She took a breath, remembering how important it had been for Jason to be consistent with Eliseo, even when he turned his life upside down. The work he did at the barn was as important to him as practicing the piano was to Elijah. "We'll talk about it after school tomorrow. Don't worry. I won't be unfair."

  Noah sat up and hugged her. He was trying so hard to grow up and was caught in that crazy space between childhood and young adulthood.

  When he lay back down, she stood, stepped over the toys, and went to the doorway. "I love you boys very much," she said. "Good night and I'll see you in the morning." After taking up Cassidy's dolls, Polly flipped the light back off, closed the door partway and headed downstairs. This had taken longer than she intended, but at least she had some help cleaning the house this week.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  "Polly, she talks a lot," Rebecca's text read. "If I didn't need a little help moving around, I would be mad at you for siccing a babysitter on me. I had to tell her to go away so I could study."

  "Did you lie about the studying?" Polly asked.

  "A little bit. But I really do need to keep up. Can you take her home at noon? Cat texted me and said that Hayden should be able to come home early. Please?"

  Polly laughed out loud, and typed, "We'll see."

  "You're my only hope."

  "Got it. I'll do what I can."

  Henry had dragged Rebecca out of bed much too early this morning to help her to the family room where she’d promptly fallen back to sleep.

  After sending the kids off to school, Polly drove over to Agnes Hill’s house and the woman was outside waiting for her. With Rebecca in the family room, the only other television was in Polly and Henry's bedroom, but Agnes assured her that she had plenty to keep her occupied. Evidently, that meant there were plenty of conversations to be had with Rebecca and Cat.

  The four-legged animals in the house were ecstatic at having someone home during the day. Rebecca's cats usually spent their days upstairs, but once they discovered she was home, all four soon nestled in around her. As much as Polly loved her animals, she was thrilled that the dogs usually slept with one of the boys. Luke and Leia still slept with her and Henry, but two cats were much better than two cats and two dogs. Rebecca's herd filled the girl's bed at night and she seemed to love it. She said she never slept so well as she did with their warm bodies snuggled up close.

  Cassidy had been confused when she woke up this morning, still dressed in her clothes from yesterday. Once she remembered what had happened, she squealed with delight at finding her dolls dressed as they should be, all lined up neatly beside her in the bed. Maybe Polly would read her the story of The Elves and the Shoemaker tonight. That would stir Cassidy's imagination. She hadn't thought to ask Polly who fixed her dolls and Polly wasn't going to spoil the fun.

  The boys were properly contrite and apologized to both Rebecca and Cassidy for their bad behavior. Now, that wouldn't change the fact that they'd do it all again, but at least they were learning about making proper apologies.

  Jon was off to Des Moines today and Kansas City tomorrow. He wasn't sure if he'd return to Bellingwood this week. If the Secret Service came in and needed to interview him, he'd be back.

  They'd had a nice evening on the porch outside the office. There weren't many people who had known Polly as long as the Renaldis had. Sal was someone who knew Polly and knew Polly's father. That was important to both of them. Jon and Ray met Everett Giller once or twice when he visited her in Boston. It was nice to know that there were people she loved who remembered what her father looked like and could talk about him as if he were more than just a photograph in a scrapbook.

  She'd been waiting for Jeff to come in this morning. He and Stephanie had a breakfast meeting with the organizers of a regional teacher's group who were looking at Sycamore House for next summer's conference.

  After yesterday's excitement at the old newspaper office, Polly wondered if Jeff would end up purchasing that property or move on to something else. He was easily spooked, and just because he decided to accept one awful thing in his building, two might be pushing it, even if he had tried to be positive. There were several other available buildings downtown, but none would be priced as low as this one.

  She still didn't know what to do about owning another business — whether it was the printing business or a newspaper. Trying to rebuild after it had been closed for several years would be difficult and Polly had no intention of learning that trade.

  "Polly, you back here?"

  "Yeah, in my office," Polly called out.

  Tab Hudson walked in, dressed in her uniform, carrying two cups of coffee. She put one down on Polly's desk and dropped into a seat. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you," she said flatly.

  "Thank you for the coffee, Tab," Polly said. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

  Tab looked up at the wall behind Polly. "Those are new. Right? Where did they come from?"

  Polly turned and looked, though she knew exactly what Tab was talking about. "Beryl gave them to me."

  "She painted these?" Tab
put her coffee down, jumped up and walked over to look at the first painting. "You actually own three Beryl Watsons now? I want one."

  "You can buy them at Greene Space."

  Tab huffed a laugh. "Not likely. I can't afford one of her paintings. And look, you have three. These are so cool. I would love to be able to afford a commission. Wouldn't it be cool if she painted the vineyard for J. J.?"

  "Maybe someone would do that as a wedding present."

  "Whatever." Tab smacked Polly's shoulder as she moved to the second painting. "Did you see the squirrel on this post? And look in the background. She painted a little raccoon."

  "I hadn't seen the squirrel yet," Polly said as she stood up. That was part of the fun in Beryl's paintings. The beauty of the overall painting was incredible in and of itself, but she added tiny little surprises that made it worthwhile to come back again and again. "Now, why am I trying to kill you?"

  "We hate the feds. Have I said that before? Talk about freakin' paperwork. There are more forms to fill out and file and interviews and then more forms. Dressen is beside himself. He saw the bedroom in the basement but didn’t think anything of it. It’s in the report. The thing is, it was wiped clean. Completely clean. And he feels like he really screwed this up by not noticing those presses had been used."

  "Why would he look at presses under tarps?" Polly asked. "There wasn't any sign of blood or a scuffle or anything in the work rooms. He took fingerprints and everything in those rooms, didn't he?"

  "I guess. And he didn't think anything of there being paper in the basement either. It was an old printing shop, for heaven's sake. There's always paper stacked around in one of those."

  "How would you know that?"

  "I know stuff," Tab said, pursing her lips. "We both spent time in that building. The upper level was pristine. It had been wiped completely clean, but nobody thought anything of it since they were planning to rent it out. Fingerprints on the railing belonged to Brad Anderson and his wife and we only know that because we had those on file. The rest will take time. Now that the Secret Service is involved, maybe that will speed things up. Or," she said, rolling her eyes, "slow things down. I don't love having them in my town. It makes everybody nervous. It's like they are just waiting for someone to do something wrong."

  "Oh, come on," Polly said with a laugh. "That can't be true."

  "Yeah? You should have seen the perimeter around them at the coffee shop. It was like everyone knew they were law enforcement, and the scary ones at that. You know, Aaron's friend at the DCI, Darrell? He's a good old boy and talks to people like they're normal people, not suspects in an ongoing criminal investigation. We don’t have a problem working with him. It feels like these guys look at me as if I might have been involved."

  "Exaggerate much?" Polly asked.

  Tab shook her head. "So, your friend, Jon. Where is he today?"

  "In Des Moines, meeting with lawyers about that opioid ring from this summer. Why?"

  "New feds in town this morning and they want to talk to him. They think it's odd that he knew what he was looking at."

  "You're kidding me. He explained everything yesterday."

  "Like I said. Questions, forms, more questions, more forms. They ask the same question over and over and then when you think they're finished, they find a new way to phrase it and ask again. You know, just in case you were lying."

  Polly closed her eyes. "When are they going to get to me?"

  "That’s one reason I'm here. They were very curious about you. Sheriff Merritt is doing his best to minimize your part, but they want an interview. Aaron sent me over to let you know that you'd be getting a call."

  Polly's throat clenched and she gulped.

  "Take a drink of your coffee," Tab said.

  "If they leave me alone, I promise to look for the murderer."

  "You'll do that whether they leave you alone or not. Aaron thinks you should have a lawyer present at the interview."

  Polly frowned. "What? Why?"

  "Because it's safer that way."

  "I have nothing to hide."

  "I know that, and you know that, but the truth is, having a lawyer beside you will keep them on the straight and narrow. They can't veer off and ask questions about things that have nothing to do with this case."

  "Like what questions?"

  "Like how many bodies you've found in the last few years or other cases you've been involved in. The whole opioid thing or the sex-trafficking case with Shelly."

  "Why would they bring those up?" Polly asked.

  "Because they can. They probably won't, but you don't want to get caught off-guard. They'll also want to talk to Henry since he was there. There's no reason for it to be an interrogation; it should just be a friendly conversation, but you need to protect yourself. And don't come in when they tell you to come in. Make it convenient for you and Henry. You might owe them answers, but you've done nothing wrong and they can meet you on your terms. Got it?"

  Polly shook her head. "No. I don't got it. This isn't how I work. I'm honest to a fault. I tell you guys everything. I have never withheld information."

  Tab looked up at her. "Never?"

  "Not when everything is out there. It saves me a lot of grief if I just tell the truth. I have too much going on in my life to make up lies and then have to remember them."

  "Look, I know that I scared you. I want you to be a little nervous, but not scared. Call Henry, call your lawyer. Be prepared to meet with them and just tell what you saw and what you did."

  "You took my statement. There's nothing more."

  "Do you remember me telling you about the huge number of forms?" Tab asked. "They need this on their own twenty-three-stroke-b-slash-purple form."

  "That's not real, right?"

  Tab smiled and shook her head. "Nope."

  Polly's cell phone rang and she glanced down at it. "It's Henry."

  "Go ahead. If it's personal, I'll leave," Tab said.

  "Hey, Henry, what's up?" Polly asked.

  "Just got a call. The Secret Service wants to meet with me. He said he wanted to meet with you, too."

  "Really. So, what did you say?"

  "I agreed. What was I supposed to say?"

  "That you'd talk to me and contact our lawyer."

  "What?"

  She chuckled, suddenly feeling more in control of the situation. "Tab's here. She tells me that we should have a lawyer go with us just to keep me safe from saying things I shouldn't. We can go together and we can schedule the time."

  "I didn't even think about you and your special talent. Do you think they know about that?"

  "Wouldn't surprise me. Who should we call? Al Dempsey?"

  "It will likely make him poo his pants, but yeah."

  Polly burst out in laughter.

  "Let me call Al and we'll work it out," Henry said. "You're sure?"

  "It can't hurt, right? It's not like we're guilty of anything and seriously, I want to feel confident, even if having my lawyer there makes me look guilty to them."

  "Then, that's what we'll do. I'll let you know what Al finds out."

  "How are things back at work today? Crazy?"

  "Not bad. I'm on my way to Ames to meet Heath for lunch."

  "What's that about? I think you made him nervous last night."

  Henry chuckled. "He's looking for a project for one of his classes. I have ideas. It will help me out and give him real life experience."

  "Okay."

  "Have you talked to anyone at the sick house yet?"

  "Rebecca wants me to make Agnes go away. I'll check on them at lunch."

  "You have a daughter who is as independent as you are. Imagine how much you'd like having Agnes Hill hovering over you."

  "Got it. You drive. I'll talk to you later and thanks for taking care of this."

  "I love you."

  Polly put the phone down on her desk after ending the call. "Am I making this into a big deal?" she asked Tab.

  "No," Tab said, sh
aking her head. "You have too much going on for you to waste time answering questions about your life. Aaron sent me over here to tell you to be careful. He's the one making the big deal."

  "If we solve this case in the next day or so, will they go away?"

  Tab laughed. "Wouldn't that be nice."

  "You know, Jon said he had friends in the Secret Service. He'd make calls, if necessary." Polly lifted her eyebrows. "Are you and JJ coming to the recital on Saturday?"

  Tab shrugged. "I might be there. He's nearly at the end of harvest."

  "Really?" Polly asked. "I guess I wasn't paying attention. I used to wander past there years ago with Obiwan. How is it going this year?"

  "He's happy with the juice and grape quality and it's a bigger harvest than last year. It keeps him busy, but makes things less stressful. Last year was kinda rough."

  "I didn't know that."

  "If he didn't have so many activities and events going on, he'd have been … well, not in trouble, but it could have been a tough year. This gives him more confidence moving forward. You know, not having his buddies' money in the winery was tough. He was strapped for cash and he works all the time. It would be nice if things evened out some so he could afford to hire more people to take care of the place. I wouldn't mind seeing him at home more often."

  Jeff Lyndsay stopped in the doorway to Polly's office. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." Tab turned around and he relaxed. "Oh, it's you, Tab. Can I come in to whine and complain?"

  She laughed. "Come in and have a seat. Did you have an interview this morning?"

  "The second one. What more do they want? My blood? I saw nothing. I did nothing. All I wanted to do was buy a piece of real estate. Suddenly, I'm in the hot seat about a murder and counterfeit bills." Jeff stabbed his finger at Polly. "This is your fault. You did this to me."

  "I know," she said. "Silly me, following you into a building so I can be coerced into buying a business. That'll teach me."

  "Don't you get snippy with me, Polly Giller. Who else am I supposed to blame?"

  "Oh, I don't know. The person who actually printed the money or the one who murdered Brad Anderson?"