by Lea Wait
“I haven’t told anyone,” said Maggie. Except Will, she thought. “I talked to the boys this afternoon, and was planning to spend the weekend celebrating a wedding, as you’ll remember. I’m going back to New Jersey Sunday.”
“Annie and I decided to change your plans a little. To make sure you don’t open your mouth and share any information someone here in Winslow might find of interest, you understand,” said Rocky. He stood back a little, his clothing and hoodie dripping, rain running off his nose and fingers. The wind had let up a little, but the rain hadn’t. Water coursed down the street, creating a new waterway. “But I believe now this little accident opens up new possibilities.”
“What do you want from me?” said Maggie.
“Simple. I want you to disappear,” said Rocky.
Not good. Would the emergency operator be able to trace her call? She couldn’t count on it. Caught in the car she had no defense. Maggie pressed down on the door handle again. “I don’t understand enough to be dangerous. Sean and Josh said Cordelia was dealing the drugs. Why should you worry about that? Cordelia’s dead.” She pushed on the door. It stuck at the same place it had before. Rocky didn’t seem to notice.
“For a professor you really aren’t that bright,” said Rocky. “Sure, Cordelia sold a few drugs to some high school kids. Those dolls of hers were a good cover. She was a nice lady. She and I were together a lot of years. But there’s no way Cordelia could have organized the business. She was small-time. All she wanted was money to pay her taxes.”
Suddenly Maggie understood.
“Annie. Annie was the one who managed the operation, wasn’t she?” Annie, who collected high-end antiques and wore expensive clothes on a small-town police chief’s salary.
Annie, who kept busy every hour of the day proving she was a perfect wife and mother. Annie, who had friends and family in South Boston. Suddenly it all fit together.
“But what about Dan Jeffrey? Why was he killed?” Maggie moved closer to the car door and kept pushing it with her shoulder and arm. She had to get out. The metal creaked and moved another fraction of an inch.
“He panicked when his daughter showed up. He thought she’d tell her friends in Colorado he was still alive, and it’d get back to the police or insurance people there, and he’d be arrested. He didn’t want that. He was going to take off. Annie said she loved him. I don’t know the details. But what Annie wants, Annie gets. Dan hired me to take him to Boston in my old fishing boat. I hardly use it anymore, but he was desperate to get away and not have anyone see him go, so I agreed. Somehow Annie found out. She met us at my dock at dawn the day we were going to leave. They argued, and she shot him. She paid me to take him and the gun and throw them both overboard in the Bay. I guess I didn’t go far enough out.”
“And Cordelia?” She tried to keep her voice steady, and Rocky talking, while she put as much pressure as she could on the jammed door. Every tenth of an inch counted.
“She wanted out of the business. At first she wanted to scare Diana, get her to leave Winslow. Get her away from the drugs and the craziness. That was the fire.”
“Cordelia was going to burn her own house?”
“She was pretending to. Then she told me she’d decided to get out of the business. She’d changed her will, Dan was gone, and she was going to ask Diana to come and live with her. She wanted a family. She was going to tell Annie she wasn’t taking any more product. She was going to return what she had, and that was the end.”
“And?”
“Next thing I knew Cordelia was dead.” Maybe Rocky’s eyes were filled with tears. Maybe the rain had just gotten harder.
“And so now you’re supposed to kill me,” said Maggie. “Because I know too much.”
“Idiot. You’ve made sure she knows more than she did before.” Annie’s voice was weak, but her eyes were open, and beginning to focus. “You’re even more stupid than I thought you were, Rocky.”
“Annie, I may be stupid, but I know enough to know I’m through with you. Through with all this. Killing Cordelia put it over the line for me. I loved that woman. You knew that, but it didn’t make a difference. You had no reason to kill her.”
“If she wasn’t in the business, she could have turned on us.”
“She didn’t know about Dan.”
“But I do. And now you’ve been crazy enough to tell this Maggie person. You’re an accessory to Dan Jeffrey’s murder, Rocky. There’s no way you’ll get away with that.”
Rocky reached under his hoodie.
Through the rain Maggie saw the end of Rocky’s gun. She pushed her shoulder even harder against the car door. The metal was groaning, but pounding rain on the roof of the car and the wind all around them masked the sound.
“You think you can get away with shooting both of us?” Annie managed to shriek. “Two defenseless women, trapped in a car, shot by a madman? My husband will hunt you down!”
Maggie, focused on trying to get her car door open, and on Rocky outside in the rain, heard Annie groan. She glanced back. Annie was looking for her pocketbook. “My gun,” she whispered. “In my bag. My gun.”
No way was Maggie giving a killer a gun. Especially a killer who’d lured her to wherever this place was and planned to kill her. She hoped the pocketbook was far enough back in the car that Annie, jammed in the front seat with a broken arm, wouldn’t be able to reach it. The gun must still be in her purse since she hadn’t seen it on the car floor.
Rocky was pointing his gun now, aiming it through the open car window, only inches from Maggie’s head.
If she closed the window would the glass deflect the bullet?
Not at such close range.
Besides, it would take too long to close the window.
“I think it would be simpler for me to shoot now,” he said, calmly. “At least I won’t be shooting either of you in the back of the head, Annie, the way you shot Cordelia. I’m giving you each a chance to think about what’s going to happen. Who wants to die first?”
One chance. Luckily the darkness and rain meant Rocky couldn’t see inside the car as well as Maggie could see out. She took every bit of strength she had left and pushed on her door.
This time it gave way, with the loud sound of metal scraping metal. The door sprang open, hitting the unsuspecting Rocky’s torso, including his gun arm, knocking him into the muddy street, and taking Maggie with it, as she held on to the door handle.
Rocky’s gun fired, and Maggie grabbed at the arm holding the gun, and kneed him in the groin.
He screamed and doubled up in pain as she grabbed the gun and managed to pull herself upright on the open door and limp a few feet away from both Rocky and the car.
She stood, gun pointed at Rocky, but with an occasional glance toward the car to make sure Annie hadn’t figured out how to reach her purse. And her gun.
Her ankle wasn’t just throbbing, she realized. It gave her no support. She couldn’t run.
She checked the gun. It was loaded. She’d hated going hunting with her father when she’d been a child, but she had learned a few things from those days.
She aimed, and she could shoot if necessary.
She didn’t say anything, and all Rocky did was swear a couple of times.
It seemed they were there, Rocky on the ground, Maggie standing in the rain and wind, forever.
But it was probably only a couple of minutes before they all heard the screams of an ambulance, and then a police car, in the distance. And then coming closer.
Chapter 40
Papaver somniferum. Hand-colored print from A.B. Strong’s The American Flora, or History of Plants and Wild Flowers, 1846. White Poppy, with yellow center and green stem and leaf. This variety, whose botanical name means “sleep-bringing,” is the plant from which opium is derived, which is why L. Frank Baum had Dorothy and her friends fall asleep in a field of them in The Wizard of Oz. 6.5 x 9 inches, toned at edges. Price: $50.
After the ambulance and police arrived, th
e flurry of activity and explanations was confusing, but adequate.
Rocky ended up at the police station. Annie and Maggie were both taken to Winslow General Hospital, with police escorts.
“Sorry to break up the bachelor party,” Maggie’d explained, after she was finally able to borrow a telephone at the emergency room and call Will. “But I hope you and Jim are still sober. There was a car accident, and I know you’re mad, but I need you to pick me up at the hospital. Bring Jim, too. I think I might need a lawyer.”
“Jim’s not with me,” Will had said. “Both pre-wedding parties were cancelled. You have no idea how worried I’ve been about you. Right after you left Gussie called to tell us to stay safe and dry and not go out tonight. I’ll call Jim now. You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Except my ankle. ”
“I’ll be there as soon as I get directions.”
Maggie was propped up on one of the emergency room beds when he arrived. She had an IV in her arm, a bandage on her left hand, and her left foot was raised and covered in ice packs.
He started to reach out to hold her hand, and then pulled back. “How are you?”
“Glad you came. All I could think of when I thought I was going to die was that I’d been a fool. That I loved you.”
Will smiled a little, but didn’t move closer.
“I’m okay. Bruised all over. Not too many cuts, though, and the X ray of my ankle showed it’s a clean break. As soon as the swelling goes down the doctor’s going to put a cast on it. What do you think about a blue cast? He’s out of pink, and I refused purple. They don’t seem to do white casts anymore.”
“This is from the car accident?” said Will.
“Most of it. I’ll fill you in,” said Maggie.
“And what’s the good news?” he asked.
“Oh, there’s lots of good news,” said Maggie. She wanted to say, The good news is that you came. “The best news is, I’m getting some good pain meds through this IV, so my ankle doesn’t hurt very much anymore, and my bruises and cuts are getting better all the time.” She stopped talking for a minute, and closed her eyes. Then she opened them. “And I know who killed Dan and Cordelia. And where Tony Silva got the pills that killed him. That’s all very good.”
Jim appeared in the doorway. “Maggie! I just talked to Ike Irons outside. He says you not only got into a car accident with his wife, you also got yourself into the middle of his investigation.”
“I solved all the crimes,” said Maggie. “Did he tell you that?”
“She’s on heavy meds,” said Will quietly. “I don’t know how reliable she is right now.”
“Ike told me when he and the ambulance arrived she was standing in the mud waving a gun at Rocky Costa and saying he’d told her he was going to kill her and Annie.”
“She was…what?” said Will.
“Absolutely right,” said Maggie. “He was. That was Rocky’s gun. You can check it out. I got the gun from him. One bullet’s been fired, but I didn’t fire it. He did. Ask Annie, too.”
“Annie won’t be answering any questions soon, Maggie. Her arm’s shattered, and she has some internal injuries. She’s in surgery.”
“I think I’d like to talk to my lawyer now. In private.”
Will looked at her. “Maggie, why don’t you wait until your cast is on, and you’re feeling better?”
“I need to talk to Jim now. Please, Will.”
Will shook his head and shrugged and left the room.
“Okay, Maggie. I’m here. What is it?” Jim sat down next to her bed.
“Jim, I found out who sold drugs last spring, and who supplied the drugs to Tony Silva. And who killed Dan Jeffrey and Cordelia West. The problem is, I don’t have proof. Annie Irons is at the center of it all. If I tell Ike Irons he could just ignore what I say. I think he may already know Annie was connected with Tony’s death last spring; that’s why he stopped investigating. Tonight Annie and Rocky were going to kill me because of what I’d found out.”
“Maggie, those are serious allegations.” Jim hesitated. “Are you very sure? Because you’re not only accusing two people of murder and drug trafficking, you’re suggesting there may have been a police cover-up.”
“I don’t know for sure about the cover-up. But it seems strange Chief Irons has never questioned the amount of money his wife spends. Jim, she collects very high-end antiques, and her clothes cost a fortune. Unless she has a very rich family or Ike is paid a lot more than most police chiefs in small towns, that money’s coming from somewhere. Ike may not know everything she’s involved with. But I think he suspects, and closes his eyes. And there’s circumstantial evidence to support what I’ve found out. There’s probably more, once someone knows who to investigate. But the investigation has to happen quickly. Chief Irons was right: I was holding a gun on Rocky Costa when the police arrived tonight. Rocky and Annie both know I found out about the drugs and murders.”
Jim paused, then said, “Costa’s in jail right now, because you said he threatened you. That was enough to hold him. Annie’s in the hospital. You’re in no danger tonight or tomorrow. And you’ve been given painkillers tonight.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I’m fine!” said Maggie.
Jim pointed to the IV and the ankle. “I’m talking about legalities, Maggie. The fact that you’re under the influence of drugs could be used to invalidate anything you say now. Get your cast on. Go back to Six Gables. Get a good night’s sleep. I have a couple of ideas. Let me make some calls. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” said Maggie.
“There is that,” said Jim. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Gussie will let either of us forget the wedding. We’ll talk in the morning. In the meantime, get some rest. Tomorrow you have to be the maid of honor.”
Chapter 41
The Bride. Classic lithograph, 1909, by Harrison Fisher (1875-1934). An elegantly attired bride sitting in a full-length satin wedding gown, with train and bouquet of white roses. Fisher, a third-generation artist, was the top magazine cover illustrator of the early twentieth century. His “American Girls” were considered the epitome of feminine beauty. He described his ideal as “well-bred and healthy-minded, delightfully free of pose. Mistress of herself, she looks out upon the world with frankness and assurance.” Fisher’s girls were on every cover of Cosmopolitan from 1913 until his death in 1934, and on eighty Saturday Evening Post covers. Trim, athletic, and educated, his “girls” helped define the “new woman.” 8.5 x 11 inches. $100.
The sun had the audacity to shine Saturday morning, displaying to the world the damage Hurricane Tasha had left in her wake.
Downed branches were everywhere. High tides and surf had brought seaweed, driftwood, and parts of collapsed buildings into villages close to the beaches. Beaches themselves had lost quantities of sand. Sections of boardwalk had disappeared.
Shingles, parts of roofs, and street signs were now on lawns and streets and hanging from trees. Trees had fallen on houses, cars, and other trees. Electric lines throughout Cape Cod and the Islands were down, leaving most homes and businesses dark. Many wires had fallen on flooded streets, creating the danger of electrocution. NSTAR Electric trucks seemed to be everywhere, but never in enough places.
The governor was on television and radio telling people to stay off the roads, leaving those that were open for clean-up and emergency vehicles, but most people didn’t have electricity so they didn’t hear his warnings and pleas to stay home.
Despite posted signs warning people of the continuing dangers of unusually strong high tides and rogue waves, people wandered the dunes and beaches, taking pictures of the dramatic breakers and looking for treasures the storm might have washed ashore.
At Six Gables Mrs. Decker served a breakfast of cold muffins, eggs hard-boiled on Friday, apples, and canned pineapple. No one complained, although Maggie knew Will was longing for hot coffee. She sponged herself off with cold w
ater and was glad she’d showered the afternoon before, although her adventures after that had not left her in wedding picture-perfect condition. She pulled out the heels she’d planned to wear for the wedding, and Will tried not to laugh as she considered wearing one with a cast on the other foot and a crutch. At least the sapphire blue cast didn’t clash too much with the navy dress she’d decided to wear.
Maggie settled on one sandal and the reality that she’d be limping down the aisle.
She and Will were on speaking terms. Neither of them had said anything, but they had to stay civil for Gussie’s and Jim’s sakes, and they were doing that.
At nine o’clock Gussie called. “Maggie? How are you? Jim told me about your adventure last night.”
“I’m surviving. Your maid of honor will be using a crutch. That’s all,” said Maggie. “How’s the bride. Nervous?”
“Haven’t had time!” said Gussie. “And I need you and Will to help. We have a bit of a challenge.”
“Yes?”
“The manager of the Winslow Inn just called. Seems the hurricane flooded their dining rooms last night. There’s no way we can have the reception there.”
“Oh, no!”
“The good news is, they have a generator, so they can cook. And we have a generator, because I need one to keep my scooter battery charged. So we’re moving the reception to our house. They’re bringing the food here. The guest list has shrunk anyway; I’ve been getting calls all morning from people who can’t get here. But we’ll still have thirty-five or forty guests, and the show must go on.”
“Oh, Gussie. I’m thinking of your house. That means—”
“Right! We need the plywood off the windows, and the house decorated, and I still have to get dressed. We’ll serve the food buffet-style so that has to be set up. The hotel staff’s going to bring tables and dishes and silverware, so all that’s good, but we have to make space. Diana’s here. She’s going to help, and Lily will, too. Jim said he needs to see you right away, so could Will drop you at Jim’s office, and then bring Lily here, and stay and help?”