The Busy Woman's Guide to Murder
Page 27
“You should be happier about what I found out. Check out the life insurance on Randy, and when that policy was taken out. I bet there’s one held by the business too. That’s common practice. I believe Haley planned to take that insurance and head out for a new life that didn’t involve cleaning toilets in the school where she was once part of the ruling party or working nights or any of the other things she’s had to do this past while. She was going to be free. She needed a fall guy, as she would have been an obvious suspect. Mona was perfect. And Mona could be used to take care of her pesky problem with Bethann, Serena, and anyone else who got in her way, like me. Haley was a one-woman murder machine. I’m pretty sure she enjoyed it.”
Pepper went back to scowling. “Something tells me it won’t be easy to prove. She’s a lot of things, most of them bad, but she’s not stupid.”
In the end, still scowling, Pepper let me follow Jack to the hospital and took my statement there.
I couldn’t imagine going home without Jack, even though everyone at the hospital seemed determined to get rid of me. He needed X-rays. He needed a scan. He needed to see a neurologist. How could I leave him there? What was home without him? How many more days and nights would we have before I had to move? When would I find the guts to tell him how I felt about that? Murderers are easy compared dealing with complicated emotions.
Throughout the long night, there was a steady stream of visitors. Margaret and Frank came by. Margaret said that if anyone in Woodbridge Police thought they’d be charging Mona with anything, she’d make them sorry they’d ever been born. That was quite a long statement from Margaret. I noticed that Frank turned pale. He did have one piece of news: Serena’s body had washed up on the icy shore and had been identified by her husband. Another part of the story had come to an end. I figured I would never know if Serena had been sincere and repentant in the end.
Sally slipped into the room in the middle of the night. A doctor’s wife has her privileges. Jack was snoring softly and I was dozing in my chair. “Benjamin’s with the kids,” she said. “I just had to see for myself that you were both all right. Charlotte, I am so sorry I didn’t support you more in this investigation. I didn’t take you seriously. I don’t know why. I guess I let myself be manipulated by those mean girls too. It will never happen again. And tell Jack the kids send their love. He’d better be all right, or else.”
Lilith and Rose also managed to sneak in past a phalanx of nurses. Rose brought a huge batch of sugar-and-spice cookies, minus what had been used to bribe the staff.
“The police have the tape,” Lilith said. “Pepper came by herself and picked it up.”
Rose added, “Aren’t you glad I kept that old answering machine instead of trading it in?”
“You saved the day, Rose. Lilith too. That reminds me, Lilith. Haley’s daughter, Brie, is now without two parents. She’s already troubled and angry. I think she was bullied too.”
Lilith nodded. “Oh boy. She’ll end up in the care of the state. Let me see what I can do. Seth will help me.”
Rose said, “What about me? Can I help? Cookies of any use these days?”
Kristee actually had a jumbo package of black-and-white fudge delivered with a note expressing gratitude. That told me that Todd Tyrell was on the story. I tried not to think too much about what he could do with that.
The last visitor in was Ramona, who looked like she hadn’t slept for two nights, which I guess she hadn’t. “Sheesh,” she said. “I let you down.”
“You didn’t.”
“Did. Well, I finally tracked down the distant relatives, where Mona had been staying and, of course, I was too late for that to be useful. Is there anything I can do now?”
“You always go the distance. And you know what? You’d better get some rest, because Mona’s going to need all the help she can get rebuilding her life. Maybe you can talk to Brian at 911 too. I am persona non grata there and probably always will be. But she’ll be under psychiatric observation for a while and she’ll need support and visitors. Oh, and Mona’s upstairs neighbors, Caroline and Tony, need to know too. They’ll want to drop in and let her know how the animals are doing.”
“I’m on it. We might be up to our patooties in leaks, but this is a priority.”
It was morning before Jack was cleared to leave the hospital. Although I’d been told I should go home, I was unable to do that. After all, what was home without Jack? I slept in the chair next to his bed, although “slept” would be an exaggeration.
As usual, Jack slept like a nursery full of babies. Takes more than murder to keep Jack awake. His eyes popped open when the neurologist came in to announce that he was going to be fine. The specialist was a plump fiftyish motherly type. She was accompanied by Sally’s husband, Benjamin. He said, “If you let anything happen to this guy, my wife will kill me. He spends a lot time with our kids.”
“Then you’re lucky. He got off easy,” she said to him. “Blows like that can do a lot of damage. Got a guardian angel, Mr. Reilly?”
“More like a hard head.” Jack glanced at me. “And, of course, I have my own lucky charm.”
“Off you go then. You’re taking valuable space from sick people,” she said, grinning.
Jack grinned back. “Okay, Charlotte. Time to go home.”
I took the opportunity to ask Benjamin what Dr. Partridge’s prognosis was.
“He seems to be improving. I would say there’s some guarded optimism there.”
That was more good news.
We took the Santa Fe as Jack’s Mini was still at the school. Lilith had offered to pick it up with Seth and drop it off for us.
Jack said, “Now that all that’s over, we can get started on planning to put the house back the way it should be: a family home. And before you start fussing and fuming, you need to accept that.”
“Accept that—?”
“That we are a family. You and me and the dogs. We are all we need and it’s time you realized it.”
I sat in silence for a while as I struggled to keep my eyes on the road.
“You’re not planning to sell it?”
“What? Sell my parents’ house? The place I grew up in? I’m the one with the head injury and you’re the one talking crazy.”
“I thought—”
“I figured out what you thought. How could you ever believe for even a minute that I would send you away? That I would want to live without you? That I could live without you?”
Tears filled my eyes. “Oh, Jack, that’s so—” I was trying to finish the sentence with a word like beautiful or wonderful or romantic, when he added, “Don’t I put up with all your bossy little ways and obsessions?”
“Excuse me! Is this from the man with bike parts in the oven?”
“I’m willing to compromise over that. There are quite a few things you need to compromise over too. I can wait until you’re ready. However long that takes. And I’m not planning to back down because I love you. Don’t even think about making a joke about it.”
For once I couldn’t think of a single thing to joke about. “I love you too.”
“It took you long enough to figure it out.”
“I had bad influences and I blame my parents. But now that I’ve said it out loud, I hope you’re happy.”
Jack said, “I am.”
“Me too.” I was. Not only would I finally have a real life with Jack, but also a major renovation. That offered wonderful organizing possibilities.
I said with a delicious shiver, “We’ll need charts, schedules, priorities, lists—”
Jack said, “I guess we’ll need a new bed. King-size, because I’m tall.”
I felt myself blushing. “That would be good. High-thread-count sheets.”
A small voice in the back of my head said, What took you so long?
We drove on through the clear, bright morning. For the first time in two weeks, Woodbridge was blessed with blue skies, fluffy clouds, and warming temperatures. Around us the snow was mel
ting furiously. The Santa Fe splashed though puddles the size of lakes. Spring was on its way. New beginning. New life. And whatever else that would hold for us.
Mary Jane Maffini is a lapsed librarian, a former mystery bookstore owner, and a lifelong lover of mysteries. In addition to the five Charlotte Adams books, she is the author of the Camilla MacPhee series and the Fiona Silk adventures. She has nearly two dozen short stories published in anthologies and magazines such as Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. She is a former president of Crime Writers of Canada and has won two Arthur Ellis awards for best mystery short story as well as the Crime Writers of Canada Derrick Murdoch award.
Mary Jane is a frequent speaker on crime fiction and the writing process. She lives and plots in Ottawa, Ontario, along with her long-suffering husband and two princessy dachshunds. Visit her at www.maryjanemaffini.com.
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THE BUSY WOMAN’S GUIDE TO MURDER