Miss Fonda liked listening to Maggie’s stories. Nobody else ever had time, but Miss Fonda did. It wouldn’t even matter if Maggie never got to climb up to the tower room. While she did love being high in the little room, writing about the imaginary characters dancing around her, she’d give all that up to have never seen Mrs. Harper dead at the bottom of the stairs and Mr. Elwood staring at her from that chair in Miss Fonda’s library. The sight of them had pushed all her made-up characters out of her head.
If she had her notebook, she could read what she’d written and maybe they’d come to life in her imagination again. But the notebook was in the tower room. Right now, Maggie couldn’t think about going back to Miss Fonda’s house for any reason.
Not even to feed Miss Marble. The cat would have to eat mice. Or maybe Maggie could ask Anthony to feed the cat. He hadn’t acted that scared. At least not as scared as Maggie. He’d gone in, taken one look at Mr. Elwood, and then called Michael. He knew what to do.
She should have done that after she found Mrs. Harper. She shouldn’t have just called 911 and run away. It could be that if she hadn’t been so worried about getting in trouble, Mr. Elwood might still be alive. If she’d told about the person in the house. If she’d told about the man on the phone. If.
She pushed the neat circles of hot dog to the edge of her plate and speared one of the potato squares. When the phone rang, she dropped her fork with a loud clatter. She and her mother both stared at the phone. Jesse stared at them.
It rang three times before her mother pushed back from the table. “It could be your father.”
Maggie sucked in her breath as her mother picked up the receiver. She didn’t breathe out until her mother held the phone toward her with a little smile. “It’s your friend. Anthony.”
“You mean boyfriend,” Jesse piped up.
Maggie ignored him as she got up from the table. How could she go from shaky scared to shaky excited in two seconds? She moistened her lips and stared at her mother without reaching for the phone.
Her mother whispered, “Just say hello.”
But what if she did something dumb? Like bursting into tears again, or worse, stuttering. Or even worse, not being able to say a word. She pulled in a deep breath. She’d talked to Anthony at the lake Saturday and that morning face-to-face. Her heart had done some racing then the same as it was now, but she’d managed to talk. But that was before this afternoon when she’d fallen apart right in front of his eyes.
Her mother gave her a quick hug, pushed the receiver into her hand, and turned Maggie so she was looking at the phone on the wall instead of the table.
Maggie put the receiver to her ear. “Hello.”
“Hi, Maggie. Are you all right?”
He sounded so concerned that a smile tugged up the corners of her lips. She shut her eyes and pictured him on the other end of the line. “Yes.” She bit the inside of her lip. Surely she could say more than one word.
“Are you sure? That man hasn’t called again, has he?”
“No.” One word again.
“Can’t you talk? Is your father listening in or something?”
“No.” He was going to think she didn’t want to talk to him, but she did. She really did. She pushed out more words. “He hasn’t come home yet.”
“Oh.” Now it was his turn to only say one word.
Silence hummed in the phone she pressed tight against her ear while she tried to think of what to say. He started talking again first. “Don’t you think you ought to call him?”
“Mom already did, but he didn’t answer. He had something important to do.” She kept her voice low. She peeked over at her mother at the sink washing the dishes and hoped she wasn’t listening. Maggie didn’t want to break her promise to her dad, but she did wish he would get home.
“So, he doesn’t even know about you finding Mr. Elwood then or the phone call or anything.”
“No.” Again the monosyllable answer.
“You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”
“I’ll have to. When he gets home. He should be here soon.” If he hadn’t given up on the not drinking and fallen off the wagon. But no way could she tell Anthony that.
“You have Michael’s number. Or you can dial 911 if something happens.” He rushed on. “You probably won’t need to or anything, but just in case.”
“I know.”
Again silence hummed between them for a few seconds before he said, “Your mother was nice. Pretty like you.”
“Thanks.” Maggie’s heart beat a little faster. “People say I look like her.”
“Did she like me all right? Everything was a little crazy over there. Not exactly the best way to meet somebody.”
“No. I mean yes, she did.” That sounded weird even to her. “Like you, I mean.”
“Great. Now I just have to win over your dad. Then I can come over and help you with that algebra.”
“I wish you could. I haven’t done my homework yet.”
“It’s not that late. You can still get it done.”
“If I can figure it out.” Maggie didn’t think she’d be able to figure anything out tonight.
“Miss Keane will give you a pass tomorrow if you don’t get it done. Especially if Michael tells her about everything. Miss Keane’s his aunt, you know.”
“He’s a lot easier to talk to than she is.” At least he was before she started finding dead people. “Will you talk to him again today?”
“Probably. I’m down here at his house, but he’s not home yet.”
“Are you all right down there?” Michael’s house way out on the lake with nobody else around had to be lonesome.
“Jasper’s curled up beside me and Michael had leftover pizza in the fridge. Beats Aunt Vera’s anytime. Besides, it’s you we have to worry about. Not me.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re better than okay.” His voice was soft in her ear.
Maggie’s cheeks flashed warm. For a minute, she felt better than okay. Almost floating in spite of everything even though she had no idea what to say. He spoke first.
“See you tomorrow at school.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
She hung the receiver back on the phone. They had a cordless phone in the living room, but this one was attached to the wall. She remembered the last time she’d hung up the phone after the man called and told her to keep quiet about what she’d seen at Miss Fonda’s house. And now she hadn’t kept quiet. She slid her eyes past the dark window over the sink to Jesse, who was making trails through the ketchup on his plate with his potatoes. And just like that, the good trembles from talking to Anthony were shoved aside by the scared trembles.
Her mother looked around from the sink. “Nice kid.” She smiled at Maggie. “I’m glad he was there with you.”
“Yeah, he had a phone.”
“But you tried to get him not to call the police.” Jesse looked up from playing with his potatoes.
“He did anyway,” Maggie said.
“He did the right thing.” Her mother gave Maggie a concerned look. “What had to be done.”
“Yeah.” Maggie didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to think about it. She simply wanted to hide somewhere for a while. She thought of the tower room. Hiding up there was what had her all mixed up in this. In murder. A shiver crawled through her and stayed. “I better go do my homework.”
In her room, she pulled her curtains closed. For the first time ever, she was glad the window was small. Nobody could crawl through it. But it wasn’t just her in trouble. The man had threatened Jesse too. Out in the hall, her mother was telling him to go to bed. He was fussing and trying to put it off the same as any other night.
Nobody would bother him here. The doors were locked and Michael had told her mother a policeman would be watching the neighborhood. But she’d feel better when her father got home. He might be going through a rough time trying to find a job and everything, but he wouldn’t let anybody hurt Jesse
.
Maggie finished her biology and was looking at the first algebra problem when she heard her father’s truck pull into the driveway. Her mother must have met him at the door because Maggie heard them talking right away. She sat very still in the middle of her bed with her books spread out around her. She didn’t so much as rustle a paper, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She didn’t need to hear the words. She knew what her mother was telling him. At least they didn’t sound like they were arguing.
She stared at her paper without really seeing the numbers on it and waited, not sure what to expect next. Her father might be mad that she hadn’t told him about, well, about everything. He should be mad. She’d gotten herself into a mess.
The tap on her bedroom door made her jump, even though she’d been waiting for it. Her father pushed open the door and came over to sit on the edge of her bed. Maggie stuck her paper in her algebra book and closed it. She knew her father was looking at her, but she kept her eyes on her book.
“You should have told me.” He didn’t sound mad exactly.
“I wanted to.” Maggie peeked up at him and then stared back down at her book. She smoothed her hand over the slick cover.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid.”
“Not of me?” His voice was low, worried.
“No.” The word burst out of her as she looked up and met his eyes. He just kept looking at her without saying anything more and waited, as if he knew she hadn’t told him the complete truth. “Well, maybe a little. I didn’t want to get in trouble with you and Mom.”
Her father blew out a little breath. “There are all kinds of ways to get in trouble. I know. I’ve found plenty of them, but not owning up to doing something wrong doesn’t do anything but get you in more trouble.”
“I’m sorry.” She started to look down at her book again, but her father reached over and put his hand under her chin so she’d have to keep looking at him.
“I am too. That I haven’t been the kind of father you could trust when you were in trouble.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say to that, but when he kept looking at her, she had to say something. “That wasn’t it. I just didn’t know what to do. And then that man called and I was really afraid. Not just for me but for Jesse too. He told me not to tell anybody and so I didn’t.” She pulled in a ragged breath. “But now I have.”
“Come here, Maggie.” Her father put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her toward him. Maggie moved aside her books and scooted over to lean against him. He rubbed his hand up and down her back and held her close. “The police will catch whoever did that. Whoever called you. Then it’ll all be over and you can go back to worrying about homework and boys and things a girl your age is supposed to worry about.”
Maggie nodded against her father’s chest.
“And I promise you I won’t be drinking and being somebody you have to be afraid of. Not you or Jesse.”
“Did you tell Mom where you went tonight?” She leaned back a little to look up at her father. “About the AA meetings?”
“Not yet.”
“You should. Take it from me. Hiding things isn’t good.”
That made her dad smile. “Okay. I’ll tell her. That should help me stick with the program.” He looked over at her books. “So what about you? You need some help with your homework?”
“I can’t figure it out.” Maggie sighed as she opened her algebra book.
“It’s been a while. A long while, but hand me that book. Let me see if I can remember any of my algebra.”
She pointed out the problem she was working on. Maggie didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for this moment with her dad beside her with no smell of alcohol on his breath, she could almost forget about what had happened and what might happen. Almost.
27
Michael sat on the back porch watching the sun go down and night creep across the cemetery toward the Chandler house. The calico cat came out of hiding to wrap her body in and out around Michael’s legs. When Michael stroked the cat, he was rewarded with a rumbling purr.
“You could probably tell me a few things, couldn’t you, Miss Marble?” The cat pushed her head against his hand for another rub. “Like who shot Sonny Elwood.”
After he sent Lester home, Michael had turned on lights and walked through the house without noting anything new. In the library, Michael stood without moving a long time. Just looking. Hoping to see some clue as to why Sonny Elwood ended up dead there. But the house kept its secrets.
He could only hope the crime scene investigators would find something to reveal the killer. Quickly. Now he looked toward the trees and shrubs along the property line that hid the road from sight. The trailer park was not very far away down that road. Buck had sent somebody to watch the area, but Michael would drive by Maggie’s trailer again too as soon as a patrolman showed up here for the next shift of watching the house.
Michael stood and stretched his back. The cat slipped away, vanishing almost at once in the shadows. What else might be invisible out past the light that spilled through the kitchen windows? Or who? Michael played his flashlight beam around the yard. Nothing there except Miss Marble glaring back at him.
He clicked off the light and darkness settled around the house again. Behind him the house practically glowed with lights on in every room. Except the tower room. No lights up there. People who hadn’t heard the news about the murder might think the Chandler ghosts were having a party.
Michael shook his head. He was so tired he was getting silly. He was ready to be home. To hang up his gun and get something to eat. His planned dinner with Alex was a bust. He turned his thoughts away from what else might be a bust between them.
At least he didn’t have to worry about Jasper. Anthony would take care of him. The kid would want to talk, but the way things were going, it might have to be over breakfast. Anthony reported he’d talked to Maggie and that she sounded sort of scared but okay.
Scared might be good. It would make her careful. But he had to feel sorry for the poor kid. He hoped she’d be able to sleep without nightmares. Michael yawned. He needed sleep too. A man couldn’t think straight without sleep and he needed to think straight. Not just to figure out who shot Sonny Elwood but to know what to do about Alex.
He looked at his watch. Almost nine o’clock already.
A few minutes later, lights flashed in front of the house. Michael went in the back door and straight through the house to meet the patrolman there to relieve him.
At Reece’s house, Alex opened the door. “You look tired.”
“So do you. Gorgeous but tired.” Michael took her hands in his. He wanted to pull her close, feel her hair against his cheek, breathe in her fragrance, but she freed her hands from his and stepped away.
“Come on out to the kitchen. We saved you a plate. I guess you knew Betty Jean brought over the food you ordered.” She motioned down the hall. “We were waiting to cut the pie until you got here, although it’s crazy to eat calories like that this late.” She smiled back at him as she led the way. “Malinda promises me pie calories don’t count. She and Uncle Reece are drinking tea, but I made some coffee. You look like you could use it.”
“Aunt Lindy is here? She’s usually in bed by this hour.” Michael followed her.
“It’s not your usual day.”
“True.” He watched her walk, her dark hair swinging loose down her back. If only he could come home to her after work every day of his life. The very thought of that made his heart beat faster. He wanted to reach out and put his hand on her shoulder. Stop her right there in the middle of the hallway and tell her how they had wasted too many years apart. But she kept walking and so did he.
“What happened?” She glanced back at him again, then held up her hand. “No, just wait and tell us all at the same time.”
So he did. The main details anyway. Sonny Elwood dead. Shot. The house ransacked. Maggie Greene finding the body. It didn’t
take long. Had it told before the microwave binged to signal his food was warm.
“But why?” Reece asked.
“I’d think ‘who’ would be the more immediate question,” Aunt Lindy put in.
“And I don’t know the answer to either one right now.”
Alex set his plate in front of him. Cindy’s fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Country cooking. He wondered if Alex had eaten any of the food. Probably not.
“But you will.” Aunt Lindy sounded surer than he felt. She looked over at Reece. “As for why, that too will surface. Nothing stays hidden in Hidden Springs for long.”
“At least not forever,” Reece spoke up. “Now eat up, Michael, so Alex will let us cut into that pie.”
Alex poured him a cup of coffee and one for herself, then sat down next to him. The kitchen was small. Barely room for the table and four chairs. The overhead fluorescent fixture was ancient and the light from the bulb had dimmed. Everything in the room was old except for the shiny black microwave Alex had bought for Reece.
It had been a while since Michael had been in the kitchen, but now memories of eating peanut butter sandwiches at this table with Alex while her aunt made cookies washed over him.
He finished off his dinner and took a bite of the pie Alex set in front of him. “That’s good, but nothing like those chocolate chip cookies Adele used to make.”
“She was a baking queen.” Reece smiled. “Didn’t much like frying fish. Left that to me, but she could bake a cake.”
“Angel food. She made that for my birthday every year.” Aunt Lindy looked over at Reece. “But she made you German chocolate, didn’t she?”
“She thought it was my favorite.” Reece chuckled. “I actually liked her applesauce cake better, but I never told her. German chocolate was her favorite. How about you, Alex?”
“I’m with Michael on those chocolate chip cookies. They melted in your mouth.” Alex got a dreamy look on her face. “She gave my mother the recipe, but Mom’s were never as good as Aunt Adele’s.”
Murder Is No Accident Page 19