Dial 'M' for Maine Coon

by Alex Erickson

  “Thank you,” Chester said, stepping away from the desk. “But you shouldn’t have done that.”

  I sagged against the other desk in the room as my legs started to tremble. “I couldn’t let him threaten you like that,” I said. “It’s not right.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you stopping him.” Chester moved to the door and peered outside, as if to make sure Harry was truly gone, before he turned back to face me. “But if what you said is true and Harry is protecting Martin Castor, I fear that you stepping in might have put a target on your back.”

  18

  Needless to say, Chester’s warning had me looking over my shoulder for the next few hours. After Harry left, I mentioned to Chester my concerns about Erik and the possibility that he might be lying about who he really is, and then left him to work on it—if he found the time between looking into why Christine fled Grey Falls and who killed Joe.

  At home, I spent the next two hours cleaning the house in an attempt to settle my mind. Wheels and Sheamus followed me around, which meant, of course, a good forty minutes of those two hours were spent cuddling the kitties, rather than actually cleaning. I didn’t mind; I needed their comfort as much as they needed mine.

  Still, despite my feline companions, I felt alone. No one was home when I’d arrived, and as the minutes turned into hours, and still no one showed, I started to get worried. What if Chester was right and Harry and Martin were going to come after me? What if their preferred method was to hurt those I loved instead?

  It didn’t seem like Harry’s way, but what did I know about Martin Castor? From what Wayne Hastings told me, Martin didn’t sound like anyone I wanted to meet.

  I finished sweeping the floor and shoved the broom into the closet before I reached for my phone. I knew my kids hated it when I called them just to check up on them—especially since they were adults—but I needed to hear their voices, just to be sure everything was okay.

  As soon as I brought out my phone, a car pulled into the driveway. My heart jumped into my throat when I didn’t recognize it, thinking that Harry had decided to seek me out. I was just about to call the cops when the doors opened and three of my friends stepped out.

  I hurried to the door. “What are you doing here?” I asked them. “Game night isn’t until next week.”

  “We heard about what happened,” Holly Trudeau said, hoisting a bottle of red wine for my inspection. She was married to Ray, a veterinarian who worked with Manny, and she was rarely seen without a glass of wine in her hand. “We thought we’d come by to cheer you up.”

  Behind her, Evelyn Passwater snickered. Well into her sixties, Evelyn had one of the sharpest minds of anyone I knew. “She’s probably enjoying all the attention.”

  “That’s not true, is it, Liz?” Deidra Kissinger stepped up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She was a high school teacher who looked as if she could be a fitness model. She was also one of my best friends, though I didn’t get to see her—or the rest of the ladies—as much as I’d like.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “And no, murder isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

  I led the women into the dining room, and then stopped, unsure what to do next. Normally, they showed every first Wednesday of the month so we could play board games and gossip. But, as I’d noted before, we were a week away from that. What were we supposed to do now?

  Deidra went straight into the kitchen and returned with four wineglasses. The women settled around the table in their customary spots, so I joined them.

  “You say you’re fine, but is that really true?” Holly asked. “You look pale.”

  “It’s been stressful.” I gave them a quick rundown of Christine’s disappearance and Joe’s murder, throwing in my troubles with Courtney to boot. “It seems like every time I turn around, some new disaster strikes. I feel like I’m being pulled in a hundred directions at once.”

  “You should stay in more,” Evelyn said. “Can’t find dead people if you never go out.”

  “I guess that explains why you only leave when we drag you out of your house, kicking and screaming,” Deidra said.

  “I’ll have you know, I had a date just last week. I won’t tell you how that went.” Evelyn winked.

  Holly filled the wineglasses and I gulped down half of mine in one go. They all stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

  “What? I said I was stressed.”

  “Hey, I’m not one to judge,” Holly said. “I’ve just never seen you drink so much at once.”

  “It’s good for you,” Evelyn added. “It’s how I’ve kept up my youthful appearance.” She drained her entire glass, though I noted her eyes watered from it.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “You don’t know how much I needed this.”

  “Oh, we figured you would,” Deidra said. “We’re here for you.”

  “Here, here.” Holly raised her glass and then took a drink.

  “I remember when Christine Danvers disappeared,” Evelyn said with a shake of her head. “The police said her husband killed her, but I for one never believed it.”

  “You knew them?” I asked.

  “Only casually.” Evelyn seemed to know everyone, and I was okay with that. It gave me someone to go to whenever I had a question about someone around town. “We’d bump into each other at the store and say hi, but it never really went past that.”

  Both Holly and Deidra were likely too young to remember much of what happened back then, but Evelyn would have been right around the same age as the Danverses, if not a little older.

  “They seemed like nice people,” Evelyn went on. “Never could understand why Christine would vanish like she did. Always assumed it was something beyond her control.”

  “Like an abduction?” Holly asked.

  Evelyn shrugged one bony shoulder. “Or someone threatened her. She was always fiercely protective of her family, so whatever it was, it had to be pretty darn bad for her to leave them.”

  My ears perked up at that. “Did you ever hear anything that hinted that someone might have threatened her?” I asked. “Did Joe or Christine have problems with anyone in town?”

  “Not that I’m aware,” Evelyn said, before frowning. “I suppose that’s not entirely true. I do recall one evening, I’m guessing it was around the Fourth of July because I distinctly remember the fireworks, when I saw the two of them together. I was about to go over to say hello when Christine looked as if she’d seen a ghost. She said something to Joe, who looked confused, before she hurried off. I happened to be standing where I could see that she left Joe for some other guy.”

  “Did you see who it was?” I asked, growing excited. If this other man was the reason Christine fled town, it might go a long way in figuring out who killed Joe. That is, if the two are connected, I reminded myself.

  “No, I didn’t,” Evelyn said. “He was wearing a suit, though. Looked all prim and proper where he stood off to the side. He wasn’t facing my way, so all I saw was his backside, before the two of them vanished down an alley. Since it was none of my business what Christine was doing, I left them to it, so I never saw if or when they returned.”

  “Did you ever tell the police what you saw?” Holly asked.

  “Why would I?” Evelyn looked annoyed by the question. “This happened weeks before she vanished. I didn’t even think about it until now, and I’m not even sure it had anything to do with her disappearance.”

  “It might have given the police something to go on, if they’d known,” Deidra said. “Even if this guy wasn’t why she left, he might have known something that would have helped.”

  “He may have,” Evelyn admitted, “but it’s too late now, isn’t it? Besides, back then, they were pretty sure Christine cheated on Joe and he found out about it and killed her for it. I never believed it, but who knows? She did hurry off with that other man. As far as I knew, they were lovers, and I witnessed the beginning of the end of both Christine and Joe Danvers.”

  There was a lo
ng stretch of silence before Holly grinned over her wineglass. “Speaking of cheating, are we going to play Scrabble again this month? Or are we going to change it up a bit so Evelyn can’t palm any more tiles?”

  Evelyn’s eyes widened. “I never cheat! I can’t help it that none of you have vocabularies that extend past the second grade.”

  “Maybe we need to pat her down before our next game,” Deidra said. “There’s only so many places you can hide spare tiles.”

  “Just you try it,” Evelyn said, pointing a finger at Deidra.

  My attention was pulled from the lighthearted argument at the table as another car pulled into the driveway. I rose from my seat with a distracted, “Excuse me,” and checked the window. Ben got out of the driver’s seat of his car.

  He wasn’t alone.

  The woman looked younger than Ben, so much so, she appeared to be fresh out of high school. She wore shorts far too short for her long legs, and a navel-baring shirt that left little to the imagination. I fully expected her to snap her gum as she made her way to the front door. She was hanging from Ben’s arm so casually, she almost looked bored.

  “Liz? Is everything okay?”

  I glanced back to see Holly had risen from her seat and the other two women were looking at me with a healthy amount of concern in their eyes.

  “Yeah. Quickly! Sit down.” I hurried back to my seat. “Act natural.”

  “Why?” Evelyn craned her neck in a vain attempt to see out the window. “What’s going on?”

  The door opened then and Ben walked in. “Mom?” He paused in the dining room. “Oh! Hi, Evelyn. Holly. Deidra.” He nodded to each of the women in turn. “I was wondering who was here since I didn’t recognize the car in the driveway.”

  “It’s new,” Holly said, eyes raking over the woman on Ben’s arm. At first glance, she didn’t look approving. I couldn’t say I disagreed. “Are you going to introduce us?”

  Ben blushed, even as he grinned. “Mom, ladies, this is Katie Sprig.”

  Katie’s eyes passed over us as if we were beneath her notice.

  I rose and planted myself in front of her so she couldn’t ignore me. “Hi, Katie. I’m Ben’s mom, Liz.” I stuck out a hand.

  She eyed it a moment as if it was covered in filth before slipping her fingertips into my hand. I noted her nails were painted bubblegum pink. The “handshake” lasted all of half a second before she jerked her fingers free.

  “I thought we’d stop by and say hi before we hit the movie later,” Ben said.

  “You’re watching a movie tonight? Which one?”

  “We haven’t figured that out yet,” Ben said. “I was hoping for the new Rock movie, but Katie isn’t into action flicks.”

  Katie glanced at him, rolled her eyes, and then turned back toward the door.

  “Guess we’d better go,” Ben said. He looked a little peeved, considering they’d just gotten there. “See you later tonight.”

  “Be careful,” I said, trying hard not to frown. While Ben had dated a lot of women, I couldn’t say I had actively disliked any of them until now.

  “She’s not going to last long,” Deidra said as soon as they were gone. “Ben’s got better taste than that.”

  “They’re moving in together,” I said, collapsing into my chair. I polished off my glass of wine and held it out for a refill.

  “No.” Holly sounded shocked as she poured. “There’s no way.”

  “It’ll fall through before they make it that far,” Deidra said. “Trust me.”

  “People are judged by the friends they keep,” Evelyn said. “Ben will realize that soon enough.”

  “I hope so,” I said, but my mind had shifted gears. Did Christine have any friends in Grey Falls? It had been years since she’d lived in town, but someone might still be around. If anyone would know more about Christine and Joe’s relationship, it would be a close friend.

  The conversation after that turned to frivolous things. It was good to talk—and think—about something other than murder or my family. By the time the wine was corked and everyone was standing, I felt better. I was still worried, mind you, but at least I wasn’t jumping at every loud sound and thinking about buying a new series of locks for the door.

  As soon as my friends had piled into Holly’s car and had backed out, however, my brain jumped right back onto the murder. Within seconds of them leaving, I was on the phone, calling the one person I knew who might know if Christine still had friends in town.

  “Hi, Chester, it’s Liz. I have a question for you. Do you know if Christine Danvers had a best friend who still might live in Grey Falls?”

  “I believe so. One moment.” The phone clunked to the desk and I could hear a drawer opening and papers being sifted through. It took two minutes before he returned. “Penelope Pringle. She was Christine’s closest friend at the time. Knew each other since high school. She lives at”—more rifling of papers—“1221 West Clairmont Street.”

  While popping in unannounced might allow me to meet Penelope, I doubted it would earn me any favor with her. “Do you have a phone number for her?” I asked.

  “I do.” Chester rattled off her number. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, I think that’s it. Thanks, Chester.”

  “No problem, Liz. Let me know if it amounts to anything. I first talked to Penelope back when Christine vanished, and we’ve kept in contact ever since. She’s a good woman, but her life has been hard. Go easy on her, all right?”

  “I will.”

  I was about to hang up when a new voice came from the background. “Is that my mom?”

  There was a rustling sound and Amelia came onto the line. “Mom, Maya and I discovered something new.”

  A muffled voice I took to be Maya’s followed. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she sounded excited.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “You know how we were looking into Christine’s birth parents?” Amelia asked.

  “Yeah? You found out they were murdered. Did you discover something else?”

  “We did. Maya and I decided to look into it some more, see if we could find anything that might link to the current investigation.” She paused, obviously waiting for me to respond.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “At first, there wasn’t much to find. They were killed, and Christine saw the killer, but could never place him, right?”

  “Right.” I shifted from foot to foot, anxious for her to get to the point.

  “Well, I thought that was odd. I mean, if someone were to come in and murder my family, I’d have everything seared into my brain. There’s no way I wouldn’t be able to recognize the killer if I saw them again, or at least, wouldn’t be able to give the police a proper description.”

  “You think she knew the killer?” I asked, following her train of logic. “And then protected them?”

  “I don’t know,” Amelia said. “Maya has floated the idea, and honestly, it doesn’t sound too far-fetched, not after what we discovered.”

  There was more muffled conversation from the other end of the line. This time, Chester’s voice joined Maya’s, before Amelia returned.

  “The question became,” she said, “why would she protect a killer? And if she did, why would she then run from her parents’ killer and leave her husband behind?”

  “If that is what happened,” I said, unwilling to jump to conclusions just yet.

  “I think it is,” Amelia said. “Some guy kills her parents; she sees it, but keeps quiet for years. Then something happens. What, I don’t know. But he comes after her for one reason or another. Maybe he threatens to hurt her family if she doesn’t leave, so she does. Then, Joe realizes Christine might still be alive, starts looking into her disappearance again, and this time, what if he comes across new information? What if he discovered who killed her parents?”

  “All right,” I said. It sounded plausible enough, but there were a whole lot of maybes and what-ifs. “So, the
killer kills him to keep him quiet. But who would do such a thing?”

  I could almost feel Amelia’s grin across the line. “How about Christine’s real dad?”

  “Her real dad?” I asked. “Do you mean Hue Hemingway?”

  “No, not Hue.” There was another pause before she hit me with it. “We don’t have the records to prove it, but Maya and I have come across information that hints that Hue Hemingway might not be Christine’s father after all.”

  19

  Amelia didn’t have much else to add, but that little tidbit she had discovered was exciting enough. She didn’t have a name for Christine’s real father, nor did she have any solid evidence to support her theory that we could take to the police; yet, if what she said was true, we might now have a motive for both Christine’s disappearance and Joe’s death. Amelia promised to keep me informed if she or Maya came up with anything new, and then disconnected.

  The house felt painfully empty now that everyone was gone and I wasn’t talking to anyone. I tried to turn my attention to Sheamus’s needs, yet every time I considered calling someone about him, I found I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  What if they had deep, dark secrets that could cause them to end up like Joe? What if they were like Terrance Hildebrand and were lukewarm to animals at best? I knew I shouldn’t be worried—I hadn’t had an issue finding the right home for an animal before Joe—but it was hard. I didn’t trust myself to make rational decisions.

  So, I decided I might as well be irrational.

  I picked up my phone, checked the number Chester had given me, and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, my name is Liz Denton. I’m looking to speak to Penelope Pringle, if she’s in.”

  There was a pause. “I’m Penelope. What is this about?”

  It was my turn to hesitate. I had no official authority to be asking her questions about Christine. There was nothing wrong with a couple of women chatting about the past, but would she want to talk to me about someone she’d likely thought dead for the past thirty years? Penelope had already told the police everything she knew, and our conversation would bring back all the painful memories she might wish buried.