“Aaron Eastman is out of jail,” Seth said. “He showed up at the Historical Society on Friday, and Gail Selden panicked and sliced open his arm, and Meg walked in right after he disappeared, but Meg found him yesterday and he went to the hospital, and then he showed up on our doorstep to thank Meg for saving his life, and he ended up telling us his whole story, and then he spent the night.”
“Breathe, dear brother. So the bottom line is, last night you hosted an ex-convict who is part of Granford’s history. What’s he like?”
“Fortyish, but looks older. Quiet, sad. Nothing scary about him.”
“Why’d you give him a bed for the night?”
“Actually it was a couch.”
Rachel waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. I’m going to guess that he thinks he was framed.”
“Sort of,” Meg said. “The fact is, he doesn’t remember anything about the night of the fire. He more or less sleepwalked through the trial, with a public defender. He spent twenty-five years in jail, wondering if he was capable of killing his family at seventeen. He’s still not convinced. So when he got out, he came back to Granford, I guess to see if anything jogged his memory. So far all he’s gotten is some stitches, thanks to Gail.”
“What does he think he can find, this much later?” Rachel asked.
“Maybe nothing,” Seth admitted. “He knows it’s long odds, but he wants to try. And he sure doesn’t have much else to look forward to in his life. He finished high school in prison, and he’s taken some additional courses, but basically he has no money, no home, no education, and a criminal record.”
“So of course you and Meg volunteered to help him,” Rachel said, smiling.
“Gail’s helping, too,” Meg added, “since she feels guilty for almost killing him.”
Rachel turned to her mother. “Mom, what do you think about this?”
“I only heard the story on the way over today, and I haven’t met the man yet. But I trust both my son and Meg: if they think Aaron Eastman’s story may have some truth in it, then I’m on their side. Give the man a chance to find out what he can.”
“Then I’m in. Where do we start?” Rachel said, rubbing her hands together.
“Wait a minute, Rachel,” Meg protested. “You’re not in any shape to take on an investigation of a long-ago crime.”
“Meg Corey, my brain works just fine, even if I do move like a hippopotamus. The kids are at school all day, and Noah is working, and have you looked at daytime television lately? Trash. And I’ve seen every DVD of every movie I’ve missed over the past few years. So having something to do that involves nothing more strenuous than thinking would be a godsend. Maybe a few phone calls. Or online research, if I can reach my laptop around Pumpkin here.” Rachel laid a fond hand on her very round belly. “Do we have a deadline?”
Meg could see her point, and she felt briefly ashamed that she had assumed that Rachel wouldn’t be capable of participating in their probably futile exercise. “Well, Aaron is going to have to find a job of some sort, and we have no idea how he’s going to do that. If we could prove he’s not a killer, it might help.”
“Good point,” Rachel said. “Can I meet him?”
“Rachel,” Seth began, “I know you’re looking for an antidote to your boredom, but do you really think chatting with an ex-convict is the best way? I mean, no matter what kind of a guy he is underneath, he’s been in jail for all of his adult life. He’s got a lot of catching up to do.”
Rachel’s expression came close to being a pout. “If I’m part of this, I’d really like to look him in the eye and decide for myself if he did the deed.”
“He’s not a trained seal, Rachel,” Meg said. “He’s not ours to parade around. I’ll ask him, and if he agrees, we’ll bring him to see you.”
“Fair enough. So, what’ve you got so far?”
12
“What’ve we got?” Meg and Seth swapped glances before turning back to Rachel. “Only what Aaron has told us himself,” Seth said.
“What about the police report?” Rachel demanded.
“Rachel, let me remind you we only heard about this yesterday—last night, in fact. We haven’t had a lot of time to dig up anything,” Seth said, sounding exasperated. “But to answer your question, whatever investigation went on took place under Art Preston’s predecessor, Chief Burchard. I have no idea where his files might be stored. I can ask Art. In theory it shouldn’t be a problem, since I think police reports are public documents. Best case, Art has them on file somewhere, or has already pulled them.”
“Want me to start a list?” Rachel asked.
“Whatever makes you happy,” Seth told her.
“Great. Give me a pad—over there, on the table. Making lists seems to be part of my nesting behavior,” Rachel said. Seth handed her a lined pad and a pencil. “Thank you. Okay, next. Trial transcript: who keeps those, and where can you get them?”
“Uh, I don’t know?” Seth replied. “It’s never come up for the town, as far as I can remember.”
“Well, then find out. So, between those documents you should have the official description of the event, the evidence presented, and the witnesses called.”
Meg smiled. “Rachel, have you been watching Law & Order again?”
“You bet. What evidence was there?”
“Aaron said drug materials were found in the basement near where the fire started, which pointed to him,” Meg said. “He admitted they were his. Aaron was found outside the building, passed out, but there was no sign he’d been anywhere near the fire.”
“Who was inside the house?”
“Aaron’s parents and his grandmother—his mother’s mother,” Meg replied.
“Where were they found?”
“Rachel, I have no idea!” Meg protested. “And no, I don’t know if there was an autopsy on any or all of them. From what Aaron has told us, I’d guess that somebody like the medical examiner looked at them and said they died in the fire. It seemed logical. I suppose you’re going to suggest they could have been strangled or poisoned or drugged into unconsciousness before the fire started?”
“Well, it is possible, isn’t it?” Rachel demanded. “I mean, if there was no autopsy, you can’t say they weren’t, can you? So if everybody was found neatly laid out in their own bed, that tells you one thing. If they were found on the floor clawing at a locked door, that’s a different story.”
Meg sent Seth a what have we gotten ourselves into? glance. Rachel was absolutely right: they hadn’t even begun to think this through.
“Was there anybody else who wanted the family members dead?”
Meg sighed. “I’m getting tired of saying this, but we don’t know.”
“Other relatives? Who stood to inherit?”
“Ditto,” Meg said.
“What was the insurance situation?”
“Ditto. May I remind you that this happened a quarter of a century ago?” Meg said wearily. “Maybe you and your brother have some vague memories of what happened, but I wasn’t even here.”
Rachel answered quickly. “Look, Meg, if I remember the event, and I was a babe in arms when it happened, then other people might. Nobody noticed any skulking ninjas or Druids bearing torches running around in the woods?”
Meg giggled.
“The nearest neighbor lived about half a mile away, and they didn’t notice anything until the fire was fully engaged,” Seth informed Rachel.
“Didn’t I read a story somewhere about someone who lit a mouse on fire and threw it into a building, to start a fire?”
They all looked at each other and burst out laughing. “So we need to find someone who raised mice in Granford at that time?” Seth asked. “Or someone in trouble with the SPCA? Or just somebody with a really twisted imagination?”
“Well, if you can find a fire report, maybe we can eli
minate the mouse scenario. You need to know for sure where and how the fire started.” Rachel stretched and shifted her weight on the couch. “Thanks, guys—at least you’ve given me something to think about other than Pumpkin. Look, I’ve got to pee, which is a major production, and it’s time for my nap. Why don’t you let me think about what you’ve told me, and then when you find all those documents, we can confer. And I really would like to meet Aaron, if he doesn’t get scared by hugely pregnant women.”
“I think we can safely say he hasn’t seen many lately. If ever,” Meg said.
“I’ll talk to Art about getting hold of the documents,” Seth volunteered. “And I’ve got to find something around here for Aaron to do. It sounds like it may take more than twenty-four hours to pull all this together, what with legal documents and whatever Gail can track down, and he can’t just hang out at our house.”
“Are you set for child care when Pumpkin arrives?” Meg asked, changing the subject.
“You mean, after school and stuff like that? Mostly. I may need to call on you and Mom now and then, but not full-time. I’ll let you know when the time comes. Soon, I hope!” Rachel skewered Meg with a wicked gleam in her eye. “How’re the wedding plans coming, huh?”
“Moving along nicely, thank you,” Meg shot back. “I’ve still got a few weeks left.” And a lot of details to deal with—and now an old crime to unravel. Why was life never simple?
They said their good-byes, and Seth, Meg, and Lydia headed back to Granford. Lydia said tentatively, “Rachel’s right, you know. There’s probably official information to be had, but it’s going to take some time to dig it all out, unless Art has already started the ball rolling. Has he made any comments to you?”
Seth shook his head. “I haven’t really talked to him since he took Aaron to the hospital. Gail told him she wasn’t going to press charges, so he has no further involvement. He wasn’t in charge when the fire happened. Bottom line is, he’s within his rights to wash his hands of the whole mess right now.”
“Will he, Seth?” Meg asked. “You’ve known him longer than I have.”
“I really can’t say. I don’t know how much Aaron told him, or wants to tell him. Not that Aaron has a choice, if he wants to get to the bottom of this. Art’s our best avenue to getting the legal documents. If we’re lucky, he’s got most of them at the station, or at least in storage somewhere nearby. Hey, maybe they’ve even been digitized.”
“In your dreams,” Meg muttered to herself. “You’ll call Art when we get back?”
“Oh yeah. He’d love to have his day off interrupted by me so he can dig into a closed case he wasn’t even part of. But then, technically this isn’t current police business, so maybe it’s better that he do it on his time, not town time.”
“Thank you.” Meg turned to face Lydia in the backseat. “Rachel seems upbeat. Are the kids old enough to help when the baby comes?”
“I hope so,” Lydia replied. “At least they’re past the stage where they’ll be jealous of a new baby. And Noah’s great with kids, but he’s got to work to pay the bills. Somehow I doubt that Rachel will be getting the bed-and-breakfast up and running again any time soon. My guess is that next summer is the earliest it could happen. At least Pumpkin should be sleeping through the night by then.”
“Are you going to take any time off when Pumpkin arrives?”
“To help out?” Lydia said. “Maybe. We haven’t hammered out the details. And there are parts of my job I can take home and work on anywhere, so I could be at Rachel’s to pick up the kids or take them to sports things. It’ll work out, I’m sure. People have been doing this for a long time. Do you know when your parents will be arriving, Meg?”
“We haven’t fixed a date. I assume they’ll be driving, anyway.”
“I was wondering if they might like to stay with me,” Lydia said cautiously. “Unless they’d prefer the privacy of a hotel?”
“That’s very kind of you, Lydia. I’ll ask them.” The truth was, Meg had no idea how her parents would feel about that, but it was nice of Lydia to offer.
“But I warn you—I might be tied up with Pumpkin, so they might get only a bed and a wave from me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Meg said. “I can feed and entertain them.” Assuming I have a working bathroom, she added to herself. “And I don’t think they’d stay long.”
“Why not?” Lydia asked. “They don’t get to see much of you.”
Whose choice was that? Meg wondered. She loved her parents, and she thought they got along reasonably well, but there had always been a certain formality between them, almost as though they were guests in each other’s lives. “Well, I’ll leave it open-ended, and they can decide. It’s not like we’re planning an exotic honeymoon, so we’ll be around.” Hopefully without an ex-con in residence. “Did Seth tell you he’s giving me a new bathroom?”
“Seth always was a romantic,” Lydia said wryly. “When’s that going to happen?”
“As soon as Meg here picks out the fixtures. The rest is easy,” Seth said.
“Oh, so I’m the one holding up the project?” Meg said, swatting him on the arm.
“In part. I hadn’t factored in a criminal investigation.”
“So that’s mine, too? Which do you think will take longer?” Meg shot back.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On what Art has on hand, which he could lay hands on today. There may be other stuff he can’t access until tomorrow. Or there may be stuff he can’t access, ever.”
“So call Art as soon as you get home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lydia, you want us to drop you off first?” Meg turned to ask.
“I guess. Although your life seems a lot more interesting at the moment than mine does. Will Aaron Eastman still be around?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea where else he’d go, but I doubt he wants to be cooped up in the house.”
They arrived at Lydia’s house, and Seth turned off the engine. “So, you getting out?”
“I guess.” Lydia sighed. “Look, if your Mr. Eastman is around for dinner, can I come over? I can tell him a bit more about the Granford he remembers, and what’s changed. If he’s interested, I mean. If he’d rather be alone, I’ll understand.”
“I’ll give you a call, Mom,” Seth said, and watched as his mother unlocked her door and went inside with a parting wave.
“So, home?” he asked Meg.
“And you’re going to call Art, unless our guest has ridden off into the sunset, leaving a brief note behind.”
“It’s a plan,” Seth said, pulling out of his mother’s driveway. He pulled into Meg’s ninety seconds later. They parked and entered the kitchen together.
Bree was sitting at the kitchen table leafing through what looked to Meg like an agricultural catalog. “How’s the mom-to-be?”
“Large,” Meg replied. “Where’s our guest?”
“Well, another alpaca showed up, and I called the Gardners, who came over to pick it—her—up, and they started talking to Aaron. He said he had the time to fix their fence, and he asked me if he could borrow some tools, because, duh, he doesn’t have any. So I let him go through some of yours, Seth—the ones you keep in the barn, not your office. So they all went off merrily to fix the fence. Aaron said he’d be back for supper, unless, of course, Patty Gardner insisted on feeding him. But he’ll be back sometime, anyway.”
“Interesting,” Seth said. “Did he tell them he’d just gotten out of prison?”
“Hey, I couldn’t hear their conversation, and I’m no snoop. Would it matter? He’s just fixing a fence.”
“I guess not,” Seth replied. He glanced briefly at Meg. “I have to make a phone call.” He hung up his jacket by the door, then walked into the front room to call.
“What’s that about
?” Bree nodded at Seth’s departing back.
“We told Rachel a bit about Aaron, and she took the bit in her teeth and ran with it—well, figuratively, anyway. She made a list of information we needed, starting with the original police report. Then the trial transcript. Then we regroup and decide what more we need. I think Rachel is bored.”
“You gonna do it?” Bree asked.
“That’s why Seth is talking to Art right now. As far as we know, Aaron has no current legal issues, so this isn’t an official investigation from Art’s viewpoint, now that Gail has said she won’t press charges. He’d be doing us a favor, that’s all.”
“You expect to find anything new, based on some old paperwork?” Bree asked.
“I honestly don’t know. If we get hold of the documents, it may be a dead end. Or it may take a while to get them, if they’re available. Seth and I have no legal standing here, and I’m not sure what rights Aaron has. Damn, it’s complicated.” Meg thought for a moment. “What’s your take on Aaron? You have no history with him, past or present.”
Bree gave Meg’s question the attention it deserved. “I think he’s very controlled. Reserved. Doesn’t trust people—yet. Maybe that’s not him, but that’s the way he’s acting. Maybe even kind of shell-shocked—I can’t imagine being kept out of society for twenty-five years and walking into the way things are now. So he’s being cautious. And I don’t think he’s made any plans, which might be a good thing because if he had, they’d probably be irrelevant now. Enough?”
“I agree with everything you say, Bree. And he must feel very isolated. The last thing he knew, his parents were dead and he was told he’d killed them. I don’t know if he’s had any contact with this sister or brother—that’s something else to add to Rachel’s list. But basically, Aaron has no one and nothing; he’s starting over.”
“So of course you have to fix things for him,” Bree said sarcastically.
“I’m just trying to help!” Meg protested. “And before you say it, yes, there’s this wedding coming up. But it’s nothing fancy! Just friends and a few relatives getting together for a party that happens to have a legal ceremony included.”
A Gala Event Page 10