To Kill a Hummingbird

by J. R. Ripley

  I set all three books down on the display table and opened the top one, carefully flipping thought the first few pages while Rose arranged money in the till. The first pages of the top book were blank. “That’s funny.”

  “What?”

  I slid that book to the bottom and tried books two and three. They were also blank except for the words on the printed page. None of the books had been signed. I slowly turned in Rose’s direction. She stood stiffly at the register.

  I felt my heart racing.

  “What’s funny, Amy?”

  My throat and lips were dry. I ran my tongue over my lower lip. “It was you,” I whispered. “You killed Mason . . .” I felt my blood pounding inside my ears.

  Ruth chuckled as she stepped out from behind the register. “Why are you so surprised, Amy? I told you from the start that I had.”

  She stepped closer. She held a gun in her right hand.

  30

  “How did you figure it out?” There was an ugly smile on Rose’s face as she trained the gun on me.

  “It was a lot of little things, but they began to add up.” I risked a look toward the storeroom. “Did you and Amber conspire?” It would have made sense. “Between the two of you, you could have pulled off both murders.

  “While the police were looking for one killer, there could have been two in reality.”

  My fingers groped for the hummingbird book. It wasn’t bulletproof, but it was a hefty hardcover. It might not make a great weapon, but it was the only thing near to hand.

  “Leave Amber out of this. She had nothing to do with Mason’s murder. Or Frank’s.” Her eyes locked onto my hand. “Leave the book alone.”

  I pulled my hand away.

  “Amber was a victim herself.”

  “Of Professor Livingston’s advances?”

  “That’s right. That man ruined her life. She was a young girl. He tried to take advantage of her. I’ll never forget the night she called from school to tell me how that man had nearly defiled her.”

  Rose glanced out the front window. There was no one around. Even if there had been, I didn’t know if I would have risked shouting for help.

  “Can you blame her for egging his stupid birdhouse trailer or putting some of my laxatives in his chocolates?” Rose asked. “Believe you me, I’d have done a lot worse than that!” And she had.

  Rose swiped at the corner of her eye where a tear had formed. “He ruined her life. Amber dropped out of college after that and never went back.” She waved the gun in my face. “She was going to be a nurse! She was going to have a life!” Rose’s free arm flailed in the air. “Not be stuck in this little town with me, running a crummy bookstore. Barely paying our bills. Barely making ends meet.”

  She pulled in a jagged breath. “That man deserved to die. Do you know Mason didn’t even remember Amber?” She sniffed. “The lousy scumbag didn’t even remember my daughter. Didn’t remember her face, her name, or what he’d done to her!” Rose began pacing, though never taking her eyes off me.

  “How many other young girls must he have done something similar to that he couldn’t even remember them all? Huh? Answer me that!”

  I had no answer. At least not a good one. And I wasn’t sure how stable Rose was at that moment. “But you invited Mason here! Why?”

  Rose glared at me defiantly but made no reply. She didn’t need to. I knew why. To murder him. “What about Frank Duvall? Did he deserve to die?”

  Rose frowned. “He was blackmailing me. Frank was another scumbag. He was wandering around in back of the store that night. I thought everybody was gone.

  “It turns out he saw the whole thing. He said if I didn’t pay him off, he’d turn me in,” she spat, clearly as disgusted with Frank as she was with Mason, probably all men. “He was desperate for money. His farm’s been on the verge of bankruptcy for months. So I paid him.” She grinned wickedly. “And then I killed him.”

  “So it was you who gave him the ten thousand dollars?”

  “Yes. And I would have gotten it back if you hadn’t shown up. You cost me a lot of money, Amy.”

  “You saw me at the farmers market?”

  Rose nodded.

  “And you had access to the Mulligan place through Amber. You knew where to get the chinaberries that you used to poison him.” I ever so slowly inched away, only to find myself backed up to the display table. “What I didn’t get was how you managed to stab Mason when you were video chatting with John Moytoy at the time. It took me a long time to put that together.”

  She raised a questioning brow, as if calling my bluff, so I continued. “I figured it out after remembering the setup down at AM Ruby.”

  “The radio station?”

  I nodded. “Ms. Wilcox has a prerecorded message set up to play when someone rings the bell and she doesn’t want visitors to know she’s out of the station. She said it’s to prevent thefts.”

  “She’s a clever girl,” quipped Rose.

  “And you were at the station. You recorded several commercials at AM Ruby for Mason’s upcoming book signing here at Bookarama. You would have seen that very setup.

  “Then when I saw that Mason had not autographed these books,” I turned slightly and risked tapping the cover of the top book with my forefinger, “I knew it had to be you.”

  “How?” When I hesitated to answer, she jabbed the gun toward me.

  “John told me that when he was video chatting with you, you mentioned that Mason had signed the books.” I couldn’t help smiling. “At the time you made your recording, you assumed Mason would have autographed the books to us. But he hadn’t. And you killed him before he had the chance.”

  “Not bad.”

  “It also means that you planned the whole thing in advance, Rose. You killed him in cold blood.” A premeditated murder. Why was I goading her?

  “I remember John saying how he could hardly get a word in edgewise. I’m sure you planned it that way. The more you talked and the less you let him talk, the better your chances of getting away with a prerecorded talk.”

  “John’s not much of a talker.”

  She was right. John would always be content to listen. “All you had to do was keep talking, maybe let him nod and say yes now and again, and then plow on. It wouldn’t be so hard to do. The entire conversation was only a matter of minutes.

  “A matter of minutes during which you stabbed Mason in the neck.” I pointed at the empty space on the floor between the door and the counter. “I figured something else out, too. Unlike Frank Duvall, whom you didn’t know was here, you intended for Pack to be here so he could be blamed for Mason’s death.”

  She eyed me with curiosity. “What gave me away?”

  I kept talking, wondering where Jerry was. Had Mom called Jerry like I’d told her? “It was the books that were right there on the floor.” I pointed at the empty spot once again. “There was a pile of books right there with their covers torn off. I saw another like it at Pack’s house.”

  She shrugged. “I gave Pack free books. I rip the covers off to get credit for the books from the publishers for the units I don’t sell. I’m supposed to throw the books out, destroy them. But I didn’t see anything wrong with giving a few to Pack now and again.”

  Rose Smith had a twisted sense of morality.

  “I promised him some that night. Told him to meet me here at ten.”

  “Right at the exact time you intended to stab Mason while having your fake video chat with John.”

  “Pack was late, but I couldn’t postpone. Then you showed up unexpectedly. I dumped those books by the door, hoping they would be traced back to Pack. If he’d shown up on time like he was supposed to, I’d have been sure to get his fingerprints on them.”

  “And the police would peg him for Mason’s murder.”

  “A murder that occurred while I was upstairs in my apartment chatting with John.” She smiled. “As you said, I had everything planned.”

  “Except for Frank coming out of the ba
ckroom afterward and blackmailing you.” I dodged for the door, but Rose stepped in my path and I froze.

  “Nice try, Amy. But don’t try it again.” She angled the revolver so I could see the chamber. “This thing is loaded.”

  It was. I gulped, my heart in my mouth. “I have to admit, you were clever.”

  “You’re clever, too.” She smiled evilly. “Too clever. Let’s go.” She motioned with the gun muzzle.

  “Where are we going?” I was sweating profusely. My hand clung to my purse strap. If only she’d look away long enough for me to get to my phone.

  “Just walk until I tell you to stop.”

  I did as I was told. “I saw Pack afterward. Outside the bookstore. I think he saw the whole thing, too. He saw you stab Mason.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you planning to kill him, too?”

  “What for? Who’s going to believe him over me? Nobody, that’s who. Besides, he’s already Chief Kennedy’s prime suspect. It’s no coincidence that Frank’s thermos ended up in Pack’s path.”

  “You planted it?” We had reached the back storeroom, piled high with books on shelves and in open boxes.

  “Frank and I had arranged to meet before the market opened. I gave him his money.” She turned on the light.

  “Then, when he started unloading his truck, I removed his thermos and slipped in a little something special.”

  I turned to face Rose. “The chinaberry poison.”

  “That’s right. Then I saw Pack pull up. It was the perfect opportunity to get rid of two problems at once. Everybody at the market recognized Frank’s beat-up red plaid thermos. And he’d written his name on it with a black marker—as if anybody else would want the filthy thing.

  “When Pack turned to unload his eggs, I laid the thermos in his path. It wasn’t long after that he picked it up and took it to Frank’s stall.”

  “Bookarama is only steps from the farmers market. And you’re a regular there. Nobody would think twice about seeing you.”

  Rose skirted around me toward the back door. “Don’t move!” she instructed as I twisted my neck to follow her movements.

  “What happens next?” I strained my ears for sounds of an approaching police siren but heard nothing.

  “I shoot you, of course.”

  “Rose, this isn’t going to work.”

  “I think it will. There have been a number of burglaries around town. I believe you said so yourself. What with that and the murder in my store, I was nervous. I heard someone at the back door. I yelled for them to get out. When they didn’t, I fired.” A wicked and determined look crossed her face. “I’m a pretty good shot. And I do have a license.”

  She motioned for me to take a couple of steps back. “It will be a tragic accident.”

  “Rose, you don’t have to do this. You can turn yourself in. Tell the court what you told me about what Mason did to Amber. I’m sure they’ll be lenient—”

  “Enough, Amy!” Rose moved back toward the short hall that connected the storage area with the store. As she did, I ran for the stacks. Maybe I could dodge a literal bullet or two while hoping the police would be there soon.

  As I dove behind the nearest shelf of books, a shot rang out and ricocheted against the cement block wall. Another followed. Rose screamed in frustration. The third shot had been more direct, and I heard it impact the books.

  Through a crack between the books, I saw Rose running toward me, the gun extended, ready to fire again. The back door flew open. A blur in blue denim and khaki pants burst in.

  A shot went off. I heard a yowl of pain as Rose fought off her attacker. I saw his fist drive into the top of her head. I yanked a wood shelf free, scrambled from around the teetering shelf, and slammed the board down across her back.

  Rose slumped to the ground. The board fell at my feet, and I swiped at my blurry eyes. As my vision cleared, I saw Pack Mulligan standing there, clutching his left arm. It was bloodied. He stooped and picked up Rose’s pistol with his good hand. He passed the gun to me, then settled down on the floor with his back to the wall.

  “This would be a good time to call the police,” he said, his voice weak and hoarse.

  I nodded and reached for my purse. Only then I realized that I’d dropped it somewhere in the confusion. I stepped over Rose’s inert body and ran to the front of the store.

  I set the gun down on the counter and picked up the phone beside the register. As I did, I saw a Ruby Lake squad car lurch to a stop outside. Dan Sutton was behind the wheel.

  I set the phone down and unlocked the door to let him in.

  I held up my hand to stop him as he began to surge past me. “Rose is back there. I’ll get an ambulance.”

  “Ambulance?” Dan tipped his cap, looking confused. “Your mom called the station wanting to talk to the chief. I told her he wasn’t around. She said you’d gone to Bookarama and insisted I come. What’s going on here?”

  “Rose killed Mason Livingston.” I felt myself getting light-headed. Events were catching up with me.

  “For real?” Officer Sutton appeared unsure if he should believe me. I couldn’t blame him.

  “For real. She poisoned Frank Duvall, too.” I pointed. “She’s back there.”

  “Why the ambulance? Is she hurt?”

  “Not too bad, I think. But Pack’s been shot.”

  “Pack Mulligan?”

  I nodded as I picked up the phone. I said into the receiver, “Did you get all that, Anita?”

  “Yep. Hang in there, Amy. The ambulance is on its way along with reinforcements.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up the phone and returned to the storeroom. Rose hadn’t moved. Neither had Pack.

  “You okay?” I asked, watching as Dan ministered to Pack’s wounded arm.

  Pack nodded. His eyes were watery, and I could see that he was in intense pain. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He winced as Dan applied a tourniquet to his upper arm.

  “Sorry,” apologized Dan. “Don’t worry, Mister Mulligan, a few days in the hospital and you’ll be good as new.”

  He looked at the officer in anguish. “Who’s gonna take care of the chickens?”

  I winced. I was afraid I knew the answer to that question. Oh well, at least my supply of free farm-fresh eggs wouldn’t be drying up anytime soon.

  The ambulance arrived shortly thereafter and carried Pack away. Dan had roused Rose, who glared at us like a mad ostrich but refused to speak.

  Dan cuffed her and led her out to Officer Reynolds’s squad car, which had parked in the rear.

  “Hey, Dan!” I called. “Before you go, I have one question.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why did you ask Kim to go to Jerry’s vow renewal?”

  He looked at me like I was stupid or something. “Because I don’t want to go alone. Duh.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew that.

  Duh.

  “Tell her that!” I yelled to Dan as he slammed the door on Rose and motioned for Reynolds to haul her off to the town jail.

  31

  I finished filling Kim and my mother in on what had happened at Bookarama yesterday. My mother had heard it all before, but most of it was new to Kim, who had been busy showing clients house rentals all day and never came in for her shift at the store—it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last.

  “Pack is still in the hospital. The bullet went clear through his biceps.” Rose Smith and her daughter were in jail—Rose for murder and Amber for being an accomplice, though it was unclear if the charges against Amber would stick. Rose insisted that Amber hadn’t known that she planned to lure Mason to town to murder him. She thought the plan was merely to humiliate him in some fashion—like trying to make him violently ill during the signing.

  Kim winced when I mentioned Pack’s injury. “It hurts just to think about it.” She rubbed her left arm.

  “Not to mention that might have been you, young lady,” scolded my mother.

  “Believe me, I know
.” I’d come close to dead-duck status and wouldn’t soon forget it.

  “Are you saying Pack knew the entire time that Rose was responsible for Mason’s murder?”

  “He’s admitting everything, singing like a proverbial canary. I feel sorry for him. He said he saw Rose stab Mason and got confused. He also didn’t want to turn her in because she had been so nice to him over the years. Plus, Amber had talked to him afterward and begged him not to say anything.”

  “Why would he agree to a crazy thing like that?” Kim asked.

  “Because Amber told him what Mason had tried to do to her.”

  “Oh . . .” Kim folded her hands in her lap.

  “I promised I’d go see him at the hospital this afternoon. You two want to come?” Both agreed. Mom suggested we bring flowers. I suggested we didn’t.

  “Pack has a cousin who’s coming over from Morganton to take care of his chicken farm,” I said.

  “Fortunate for the chickens,” quipped Kim. I’d told her about the misadventures Derek and I had had with chicken farming.

  “And my beauty rest,” I added.

  “Do you think Mason was really guilty of plagiarism and accosting all those women?” Kim wanted to know.

  “As much as I hate to believe it . . .” I left the rest of my words go unspoken. I really did hate to think of the man I had once admired as behaving in the ways that were coming to light after his death. “As for Cara Siskin and Violet Wilcox, it seems the two of them are guilty of nothing more than greed.”

  “No crime there,” Kim replied.

  “I guess not.” I had my eye on a hummingbird that had alighted on the slender branch of a maple. “I honestly hope Frank’s widow makes out all right.”

  “Me too.” Mom rocked slowly. “Have you heard yet whether Pack will be charged with anything?”

  “Jerry’s yelling that Pack was withholding evidence, but Derek seems to think he’ll be willing to let Pack off.”

  “I hope so,” Mom replied.

  “Me too. He did save my life.”

  “And Jerry had accused the young man of murder.” Mom tsk-tsked. “I bet Pack was frightened.”