“Your mother will be home in an hour or two.” He must have seen Maggie’s worry because he went on. “If anything at all feels wrong, you call 911. Anything at all, Maggie.”
“Okay.” Maggie managed a smile.
“That’s my girl.” He patted her cheek and rushed out the door.
He needed the job. She and Jesse would just stay in the house until her mother got home. Still, when her father’s truck started up and backed out of the driveway, she wanted to run after him. Ask him to stay.
That was when Jesse started in about feeding Miss Marble. Maggie told him no straight out. “Miss Marble will be okay. She’s a mouser.”
“But what if she doesn’t catch any mice? She might be hungry.” Jesse pointed at a leftover sausage from breakfast. “We could take her that and some bread.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes on Jesse. “I said no and I meant no. We can’t go feed Miss Marble.”
Jesse put his hands on his hips and glared at her. “You’re not my mother.”
“But I’m the boss when Mama isn’t here. So go watch television or I’ll make you wash the dishes.” She held out a dirty plate toward him. That was enough to make him backpedal to the other room where he clicked on the television and turned the volume up loud. He gave her a look over his shoulder almost daring her to holler at him, but she ignored him. It wasn’t that loud.
She was running hot water in the sink when the phone rang. She stared at it and let it ring two more times. If only they had caller ID. She thought about not answering, but it might be her mother checking on them.
She turned off the water, dried her hands, and lifted the receiver. Nobody could hurt you over the phone. “Hello.”
“Hi, Maggie.”
Relief swept through her. It was Anthony. She was more than happy to pick up the phone to talk to him.
“Everything all right at your house?” Anthony asked.
“Yeah. Dad had to go see about a job, and Mama’s not home yet, but we’re okay. Jesse’s watching some silly show on television.” Maggie peered through the doorway.
Jesse had grabbed the pillows off the couch to make a little fort around him and Bertie. The TV was so loud Jesse must not have heard the phone because he didn’t even look around. That was fine with Maggie. She didn’t want him listening to her talk to Anthony. She turned her back to the living room and leaned against the wall by the phone.
“I’m glad you’re all right. You think it would be okay for me to come by later after I get off work here at the auto supply store?”
“I can ask Mama when she gets home, but that won’t be for a while.”
“Yeah, I guess you should ask first.”
“I’m sorry.” Maggie felt juvenile not being able to simply say yes.
“That’s okay. I understand. Besides, the store doesn’t close until six. So I couldn’t come until then.”
“I guess you don’t have to ask permission about things like this. Being older and all.”
“Things are different for me. My aunt doesn’t much care what I do as long as I don’t cause her any trouble,” Anthony said. “Trust me. It’s better to have folks that care.”
“I guess. I was afraid I’d be grounded forever after my mother found out I’d been sneaking into Miss Fonda’s house.”
“Why did you?” Anthony hesitated. “Sneak into the house?”
Maggie’s throat felt tight. She didn’t like talking about her writing because she was afraid people might make fun of her wanting to be a writer. But if you were going to be friends with somebody, real friends, you had to tell them about things that were important to you. She swallowed hard while the silence hummed on the line.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Anthony said.
Maggie moistened her lips and pushed out the words. “I hid out up in the tower room to write in my journal.” She’d wait until another time to confess to making up stories and even playing with the idea of writing a book.
“Have you written anything about me?” Anthony’s voice whispered in her ear.
Her cheeks got warm and she was glad he couldn’t see her. “Not yet. I left my notebook at Miss Fonda’s.”
“But when you get it back, you’ll write something nice, won’t you?” Anthony sounded like he might be smiling.
Maggie smiled too. “I wouldn’t know anything else to write.”
“Uh-oh. My phone’s about to—”
The line went dead. Maggie held the receiver against her ear for another minute, then sighed and hung it up. Maybe he’d call her back. She ran her fingers down the phone, almost expecting it to jingle under her hand.
A commercial came on in the other room and the volume went up even louder. “Jesse, turn that down,” she yelled.
When nothing changed, she looked around. Bertie was there, his head on one of the pillows looking toward her, but Jesse was gone. She stepped into the living room and looked down the hall. Bertie hopped up and circled around her.
“Jesse, you better answer me!” She pushed open the bathroom door. Empty. She looked in his bedroom with her heart beginning to beat faster. The room was a mess, but no Jesse.
“I’m going to tell Mama if you’re hiding from me!” Still no answer.
She went back in the living room and clicked off the television. She thought sure then she’d hear him giggle. She waited for him to pop out at her from behind a door, but nothing. All she could hear was Bertie panting and the blood pounding up in her ears. Jesse must have gone outside without asking her. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do that.
Then she noticed the leftover sausage was missing from the plate on the table and her heart sank. “Did he give you the sausage?” Maggie looked at Bertie, who stared back at her and wagged his tail. “Tell me he didn’t go to feed Miss Marble.”
The front door was slightly ajar. Since it took an extra hard pull, Jesse rarely closed it completely. Her father’s words echoed in her head. Call 911 if anything at all feels wrong. But she couldn’t call 911 because Jesse didn’t do what she’d told him. She should have been watching him closer. Besides, he might be out in the yard.
Even if he was heading for Miss Fonda’s house, she could catch him before he got there. She looked at the clock and tried to think how long she’d talked to Anthony, but she had no idea when he’d called.
When she found Jesse, he was going to be in so much trouble. She’d drag him back inside and make him stay in his room until her mother got home.
She left Bertie inside. He’d be no help tracking Jesse and she’d end up having to hunt the dog too if he ran off. Jesse wasn’t in the yard. She looked down the row of trailers. Nobody in sight. Not even any cars. He could have gone to play with a friend, but he wouldn’t have to be sneaky about that.
She considered running around the trailer park, but it would be faster to check Miss Fonda’s backyard first. Then if he wasn’t there, she could look for him in the neighborhood. She hesitated a minute, wondering if she should go back inside and call 911. No, that was silly. Jesse was acting up because he was mad at her. He was going to have more reason to be upset when she found him.
She ran all the way to Miss Fonda’s house and slipped through the hedge into the backyard. The cat was on the back porch, licking her feet as if she’d just finished eating, but no Jesse. Maggie looked at the house. The back door was standing open. Jesse wouldn’t have gone inside by himself. But what if he wasn’t by himself? That man, the one who threatened them, might have grabbed him.
Maggie’s heart, already racing from running to Miss Fonda’s house, began pounding even harder. She should have called 911. If only she had a phone. There was a phone in the kitchen. Maggie could go inside, dial the emergency number, and be back out in an instant. That would be quicker than running back to her house.
The cat slipped through the door in front of her. Maggie stopped and listened. Maybe after they were there when Mr. Elwood died, the police went out the front door and forgot about
the back door. She wished she hadn’t thought about Mr. Elwood. She tiptoed across the kitchen to pick up the phone. No dial tone.
Her heart jumped up into her throat when she heard voices. Inside the house. Coming closer. In a panic, she stepped into the broom closet and shut the door.
“Did you hear something?” A man’s voice. Maybe the man who had called her. Maybe not. “Out in the kitchen.”
“Probably that cat.”
Maggie did recognize the second voice. The person who had asked Mrs. Harper to not call the sheriff. Maggie was suddenly sure she was a woman.
“Don’t tell me you left the door open.”
“I think I closed it.” The woman sounded nervous.
“I can’t believe you.” The man’s voice got louder. “Do you want to get caught?”
“You know I don’t. I didn’t even want to come back in here. You made me.” Now she sounded almost as frightened as Maggie.
“What about getting money out of that senator? You told him you’d meet him here.”
“I was supposed to have some proof, but I can’t find it. She said it might be in a book, but I’ve looked in every book here.”
“You should have known better than to believe that old woman. She hardly knows her own name anymore. Of course that’s good for us. She won’t remember what she had in here. Nobody will miss a few paintings.”
“What difference will it make what she remembers if you’re going to burn the place down?”
“True, dear girl. Very true.” The man made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Now get that cat out of here and shut the door. We don’t need any unexpected company. Best not complicate matters by killing anybody else.”
The woman protested. “I didn’t kill anybody. That woman fell.”
“Do you think anybody will believe you? Anybody at all? After Elwood?”
“I didn’t want you to do that either.”
“You didn’t seem all that upset about it at the time. Now go chase out that cat.”
The man sounded like he was right on the other side of the closet door. Maggie scarcely dared breathe, but her heart was hammering so hard against her rib cage, she feared he might hear it.
The woman must have moved past the closet. “I don’t see the cat. It must have gone back outside.”
“Then shut the door and come on. We need to get this stuff packed up before your man shows up. What time did you tell him?”
“Six.”
“You told him to bring the money, right?”
Maggie heard the door click shut and the woman’s hurried steps back across the kitchen. “But I told him I’d have the proof. I don’t have anything.”
“A gun will be enough to convince him to hand over the money and then we’ll set this old place on fire and be on our way.”
At least it didn’t sound as though they’d seen Jesse. Now, she had to make sure they didn’t see her.
33
She said no. Not maybe. Not we can talk about it. Not someday. She didn’t actually say the word “never,” but Michael heard it in her voice. Felt it in his heart.
He drove through Hidden Springs, looking at the town through Alex’s eyes. Small. Provincial. Old-fashioned, adjoining two-story brick buildings down both blocks. People in blue jeans and tennis shoes. Not a suit in sight. And for the first time since he was a teenager, maybe forever, he wished he were somewhere else. He wanted to be someone else. Someone who could be loved by Alex.
No, that wasn’t it. She did love him. She hadn’t denied that. That was why she said no. The problem was she didn’t trust him to love her enough to be happy wherever she was.
Don’t you want children? That question echoed in his head. He’d always thought he would be a father someday, and not simply because Aunt Lindy wanted to keep the Keane name going. He liked children. Didn’t he sometimes think his purpose, the higher purpose in his life, was helping young people?
He’d find plenty of troubled young people in Washington, DC. More than he would ever encounter in Hidden Springs. But they wouldn’t be his children. A little boy or girl with his name. Funny how he’d always assumed somewhere deep inside him that when he did have the courage to ask Alex, she would say yes. She would want to be his wife and the mother of his children.
He was delusional. That was the only way to explain his thinking. He’d wanted to believe it, so he had. He still wanted to believe it. It was all he could do to not slam on the brakes, turn around and go back to Reece’s house. Make another plea. Promise anything. Offer everything.
He was almost to the courthouse when cars began pulling to the side of the road in front of him. With lights flashing, a city patrol car led the way for the hearse carrying Geraldine Harper to her final resting place. A string of cars with headlights burning followed along behind. The Hidden Springs people paused to pay their respects to the funeral procession. No law made them. They just did.
Aunt Lindy’s car was near the end of the procession. She must have left school early. Michael didn’t look directly at her. Ever since she’d practically crawled into his head and pulled him out of the coma when he was a teen, she had the uncanny ability to read his mind. He didn’t want her to read his mind right now. Not until he got a lid on the heartbreak hollowing him out.
When the last car passed, he looked toward the courthouse. He should stop, go inside, open up the office. But he drove on through town. He didn’t have a destination. No destination at all. Not anymore.
His cell phone jangled in his shirt pocket. Hope sprang awake inside him. Maybe he’d been wrong about the never in her voice. His hand shook as he punched to answer it without looking at the screen. Not Alex. It was Buck.
“Just wanted to let you know we had to pull the patrolman watching that girl’s trailer park. Something going on in Eagleton. I figured you could handle it for a while.”
“Sure, Buck. Thanks for the help last night and today. We’ll cover it now.” He hit the off button. At least that would give him something to do besides think about Alex.
His phone jangled again right away. This time Anthony.
The kid’s words spilled out in a rush. “I was talking to Maggie and the battery on my phone died. After I found my charger, I called her back. She didn’t answer.”
“Maybe she just went outside.” Michael flicked on his lights and did a U-turn.
“I guess she might have, but I don’t think so. She was there alone with her little brother. I can’t leave. Mr. Deaton left me in charge while he went to Mrs. Harper’s funeral. They gave me an excuse to leave school early and everything.”
“Don’t worry, Anthony. I’m sure everything’s fine, but I’ll go check.” He tried to sound calm, but panic was rearing its head inside him too. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, he needed to remember his job. Protecting the citizens of Hidden Springs. Especially Maggie and her little brother.
He sped past the cemetery as the last car in the procession turned in. He reached for his siren, then pulled his hand away, but he didn’t slow down until he spotted the boy on the bike not far from the Greenes’ trailer.
When he eased over beside him, Maggie’s little brother stared at him with big eyes. Michael killed his lights and got out of the cruiser. For a minute, the kid looked ready to pedal away from him.
Michael stepped in front of him. “Hold up, Jesse.”
The boy put his foot down to balance his bike. His lips trembled. “Did Maggie send you to arrest me?”
“Why would she do that?”
He stared down at the road. “I didn’t tell her I was going to ride my bike. I’m not supposed to go outside without telling her.” He peeked up at Michael and then back down at the ground again and continued his confession. “I was mad at her. I wanted to go feed Miss Marble and she said we couldn’t.”
“How long ago?” Michael looked down the road toward their trailer.
“I don’t know. A couple of hours.” The little boy frowned.
Michael wou
ld have smiled if he hadn’t been so concerned. It couldn’t be two hours. The kid had still been at school an hour ago. Maybe guilt made the time seem longer to the boy.
“I think you’d better go home and apologize to your sister, don’t you?”
“Yes sir.” He put his feet back on the pedals and wobbled a few feet before he got the bike going.
At the trailer, the kid ran inside, yelling for Maggie, but the only answer was their dog barking. Michael followed him in and waited while Jesse ran back to the bedrooms. But the place felt empty. The girl must be out looking for Jesse. She might have gone to the Chandler house if she thought the kid had slipped away to feed the cat.
He had no reason to really worry about that. Nobody was at the house. A murderer wouldn’t hang around the scene of the crime. But Michael had a bad feeling. He wanted Maggie in front of his eyes. Safe.
He flicked on his radio to call Lester. Michael couldn’t wait for the kid’s parents to show up or leave the boy by himself while he looked for Maggie.
Lester’s siren signaled his progress through town, but that was good. Michael wanted him there fast. Michael went outside to peer up the road. No girl in sight. He stood still to wait for Lester, but he felt like ants were crawling around inside his socks biting him.
When Lester braked beside Michael, he turned off the siren but left his lights rotating. People peered out of the nearby trailers. A few took one look, then shut their doors. If trouble had found their neighborhood, they wanted no part of it.
“Turn your lights off, Lester. You’ve got the neighbors thinking we’re doing a drug bust or something.”
Lester switched off his lights. “Are we? Doing a drug bust?” He looked eager as he climbed out of his car and reached for the snap on his holster. “Or have you found Sonny Elwood’s murderer?”
“Ease down.” Michael held his hand out to stop Lester. “We’re not arresting anybody right now. I want you to watch this kid for a little while.” Michael pointed toward the front stoop where the boy sat, his chin in his hands and tears on his cheeks. The little dog leaned against his knees.
Murder Is No Accident Page 23