The Complete Mystery Collection

by Michaela Thompson

  She walked in. Kitchen utensils had been emptied from the cabinets, the sofa cushions were thrown around the living room, the shell ashtray had been smashed against the wall.

  “It’s like this in the bedroom, too,” Aaron said. “Better check and see if anything’s missing.”

  Clara looked in the bedroom. Drawers were open and Clara’s underwear scattered. The few pieces of clothing she’d brought had been taken out of the closet and flung on the floor. In the bathroom, her shampoo had been emptied into the tub.

  “Vandals,” Aaron said, his voice grim. “This happens from time to time. Usually, it’s about drugs.”

  “At least we had The Book of Alice with us,” Clara said.

  “Right. Anything missing?”

  Clara looked in the top dresser drawer where she’d kept The Book of Alice. “Yes, something’s missing,” she said. “They took a box I had. A carved wooden box that Ronan gave me, years ago.”

  “A box?”

  “I kept my pills in it— tranquilizers, stuff I was prescribed when Ronan died. I kept my supply in the box. I was sort of stockpiling it.”

  “Stockpiling it?” Aaron gave her a keen look.

  She shrugged. “Yes. Just in case.”

  He kept his gaze on her a minute longer before saying, “Sounds like they got what they were looking for. Opioids. Prescription drug abuse is a big problem around here.”

  Her arms folded, Clara surveyed the chaotic scene in silence. She said, “All right. I’ve had enough. I’m going to do what you said I should do in the first place. I’m going back to Luna Bay.”

  “Clara—”

  Clara was near tears. “I mean it,” she said. “What have I done but stir up distress? I haven’t discovered anything new, and I haven’t made anything better. It’s time to go.”

  She felt Aaron’s hand on her arm. He said, “Look. I’ll help you get your things together, all right? I’ll help you clean up. And you’re right. You shouldn’t stay here at the Villas. But you shouldn’t leave now, either. We’ll get your things together, and you’ll come with me.”

  Clara turned toward him. “Go with you where?”

  She saw Aaron’s face redden. “I’m not coming on to you,” he said. “Just listen. Come to my place. I’ve got extra room. I don’t want you to be alone after this. We’ve both had a bad day. I’ll pick up some burgers, and we’ll have supper. You can stay in the guest room.”

  Clara was astonished at how appealing the suggestion sounded. “I don’t know, Aaron,” she said.

  “You can’t drive back to Luna Bay tonight,” he said. “You’ve been driving all day. Tomorrow we can talk about it, all right? And there’s something else I want to tell you. Let’s get your stuff and get out of here.”

  She considered only a few seconds more before she said, “All right, then. Let’s go.”

  10

  Toward dusk, Leo Swain reduced the speed of his outboard motor and guided his boat toward a small houseboat deep in the river swamp. Over the years he lived in the trailer, he had always kept a boat tied up at a dank and muddy branch nearby, a winding offshoot of the canal. Over time, proceeding by trial and error, he had learned how to navigate the waterway and reach the river. He had always considered the route as an escape hatch if events took a turn for the worse. Events had done that, and here Leo was, on the run again.

  When Leo left Patsy Orr at Luton’s Landing with the body of Jim Tuttle, he had known he had to get away before the police arrived. At the trailer, he stuffed a backpack with his Confessions of a Humble Man notebooks, emptied the coffee can where he kept all his money, and put the money in his wallet. He stuffed the pockets of his rain jacket full of granola bars, put his blue baseball cap (no logo) on his head, shrugged into his backpack, took a last look around the trailer, and left.

  When he got to his boat he could hear sirens, but he figured Leo Swain wouldn’t be the first item on anybody’s agenda. He untied the boat and paddled away, sliding quietly in the shadows beneath the overhanging trees. By the time he reached the river, he didn’t hear sirens anymore.

  Leo knew he was a man nobody noticed. He resembled every other outdoorsman on the river, and he wasn’t worried that anybody would be looking for him. Not yet, at least. He wouldn’t show up at Margene’s tonight, though, so it wouldn’t be long before curiosity was aroused. Leo’s life at the trailer, his job at Margene’s— all that had come to an end. It was time to figure out something else.

  The shabby little houseboat had caught Leo’s eye. It looked deserted, nestled by the riverbank and almost obscured by overhanging branches. No boat was tied up at the makeshift dock, no lantern light glowing inside. It looked like somebody’s hunting and fishing hideaway, maybe visited now and then, but judging from the state of repair not all that frequently.

  Leo cut his motor and floated closer. When he was close he called out, “Hello! Anybody home?”

  No answer. He let his boat bump gently against the dock, tied up, and got out onto the floating platform surrounding the cabin. The structure dipped slightly under his weight. He could hear birds, calling out their last notes of the day.

  He called again, “Anybody home?” He didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t get one. The door was latched but he put his shoulder to it and got it open in a couple of tries. Inside there was just one room, cobwebs everywhere, a couple of cots with lumpy stained mattresses, a wooden kitchen counter with a hand pump and a rust-stained sink.

  A cardboard box on the counter held matches, a can opener, an assortment of plastic eating utensils, a hammer and some rusty nails. In a cupboard he found a selection of canned goods— pork and beans, spaghetti, lima beans, creamed corn. The cans looked old, but Leo wasn’t going to check any expiration dates. He left his backpack on the table and went out to move his boat around to the back, where it would be less visible. When he returned, he sat on one of the cots and gazed around in the gathering darkness. He had found his next hiding place.

  11

  “Daddy?” Vickie Ann’s hand was slippery on the phone receiver. The word was already out about Daddy Jim, and the house was full of people commiserating and bringing food. The preacher was sitting in the living room waiting to lead a prayer. Vickie Ann had excused herself, saying she was going to the bathroom, but she’d have only a minute before she had to go back.

  “I’m here,” Coby said.

  Vickie Ann felt sobs welling up. “Daddy, remember I told you that Daddy Jim knocked me out and ran off?”

  “Sure I do.”

  “Well, Patsy found him out at Luton’s Landing. He drowned in the canal!”

  “Naw,” said Coby. “How do they think that happened?”

  “Nobody knows. Patsy says he must’ve walked out on the dock and lost his balance and fell in. Patsy is all to pieces!”

  “Sugar, that is awful,” Coby said. “I can tell you’re real upset.”

  “I am, Daddy! I wish Daddy Jim hadn’t hit me like he did. But I didn’t know he was going to die!”

  “It’s too bad he took a notion to run off,” Coby said. “If he’d stayed at home, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. I’d be fixing us some supper right now, and he’d be out there watching his tv shows.” Vickie Ann sniffled and blotted her eyes.

  “But he hit you and ran off, and now he’s dead, right? So I hate to say this, but old Jim kind of brought the whole thing on himself, if you see what I mean.”

  “I do see what you mean,” Vickie Ann said. “He shouldn’t have hit me. There was no call for that.”

  “Not a bit.” Coby cleared his throat. “Vickie Ann? Where do we stand on that three hundred dollars you were going to get out of the bank for me?”

  Vickie Ann put a hand to her forehead. “Oh my gosh! I’d forgotten all about it!”

  “I thought maybe you had. That why I’m asking.”

  “Oh mercy, I’m going to have a house full of people here tomorrow, too! The preacher is here rig
ht now—”

  “I wouldn’t bring it up if it wasn’t important, baby.”

  Vickie Ann closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. “I’ll get it,” she said. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “But there’s going to be people here, and—”

  “All right. Just leave it in the garage. You can do that, can’t you? Put it in the top drawer of that old sewing machine. You’ll figure it out, won’t you?”

  “Yes. I will. Daddy?”

  “What?”

  “Daddy, you didn’t—”

  “I didn’t what, girl?” Coby’s voice was guarded.

  “You didn’t see Daddy Jim, did you? At the Landing?” Vickie Ann blurted.

  “God dang it!” Coby erupted. “No, I sure to God did not! What’s the matter with you, asking me that?”

  “I just wanted to be sure.”

  “Well, are you sure now?”

  “Yes sir, I’m sure. And I was wondering—” Vickie Ann’s voice trailed off.

  “Wondering what else?”

  Vickie Ann waited for another breath or two. “I thought maybe I could come and live with you.”

  “Whoa now, Vickie Ann. That’s something we’d have to think about.”

  “But listen! Daddy Jim left everything to me. So we can set up our business together, like you said.”

  There was a silence. Then Coby said, “That’s quite an idea you got, Vickie. But for right now let’s start with the three hundred dollars, all right?”

  “All right.”

  They said good-bye. Vickie Ann couldn’t stop shaking. She wiped the damp phone receiver with the tail of her blouse, straightened her shoulders, and went to the living room to pray for Daddy Jim.

  12

  Aaron’s place was a ranch-style house on a street of ranch-style homes with two-car garages, neat lawns, flower beds by the front door. Clara, following him in her car, thought it looked settled and respectable, an area where the neighbors and the neighbors’ children knew one another. She pulled up beside Aaron’s car in the garage and Aaron opened her door. He was carrying the bag of burgers and fries he had picked up at the Blue Jay Café. “This is it,” he said.

  He led her up a walkway to the front door and ushered her into the living room. The heavy swagged curtains and dark red velvet furniture were more formal than she would’ve expected. There were china figurines in a glass case, a cabinet containing a silver coffee service, another cabinet filled with rows of dolls in elaborate gowns. Waving a hand to encompass it all, Aaron said, “This stuff belongs to Stacey, my ex-wife. I’ve asked her if she wants it or what I should do with it, but she doesn’t seem interested. She lives up in Michigan now.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t have room,” Clara said.

  “Well, neither do I,” he said with a tinge of annoyance.

  He motioned to an adjoining dining room where the table was strewn with what looked like several days’ accumulation of mail, along with scattered magazines and newspapers. “You don’t mind eating in the kitchen, do you?”

  “Not at all.”

  She followed him into the kitchen, where there was a breakfast nook. Aaron was a pretty good housekeeper, she noticed. There were no dirty dishes in the sink, and the counter tops were clean.

  Aaron set out plates, napkins, and eating utensils. He took a couple of tall mugs from a cabinet. “Is beer OK?”

  “Sure. Fine.” Considering what an awful day it had been, Clara had not thought she’d be hungry. She was wrong. She was ravenous, and the burger and fries tasted better than anything she’d eaten in months. Aaron seemed to be feeling the same, and they ate steadily and in silence until they were on their second beers and only a few fries were left in the salty bottom of the cardboard container.

  “Want some dessert? I’ve got ice cream,” Aaron said.

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Aw, come on. It’s chocolate.” He got up and served two dishes of ice cream, and Clara was happy to eat that, too.

  Aaron sighed and pushed his empty dish away. “What a day,” he said. He looked at Clara. “It was good to have you along, Clara. I mean that.”

  “I think it was best for both of us,” Clara said. She went on, “I’m going back to Luna Bay tomorrow, though. The break-in is one thing too much for me. I’m not at all sure it was just vandals, or addicts looking for pills. There’s something disturbing going on, and I believe it’s something I started when I came here.”

  “What kind of place is St. Elmo, then?” Aaron said. “You were within your rights to come here, you had a right to ask questions. You didn’t break any laws.”

  She gave him a tired smile. “Surely you remember that you warned me against it yourself. You do remember, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” Aaron said. “I didn’t understand it, I thought it was a bad idea, but that doesn’t mean you had no right to do it. I’m not in the business of intimidating people. That’s not what I went into law enforcement for.”

  “Why did you? What was the attraction?”

  Aaron shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember,” he said. “Some of it had to do with my father being the Sheriff, and me being a directionless kid. There was pressure from him to follow in his footsteps. I wouldn’t say law enforcement came natural to me, to tell you the truth. I did have this notion of helping people. And I more or less put one foot in front of the other after that. I’m not ashamed. Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to retire soon, and then— well, I don’t know. But let’s just say I’m going to retire soon and I’m not ashamed of the work I’ve done.”

  “It’s good that you can say that.”

  “Yes. I guess it is.”

  As they put the dishes in the dishwasher, Clara couldn’t help thinking how different in every way Aaron was from Ronan. Aaron’s deliberate, calm demeanor was the opposite of Ronan’s unpredictability. What would Clara have thought of Aaron when she was younger? That he was boring, uninteresting. A plodder. His kindness would have escaped her notice.

  Aaron brought Clara’s suitcase in from her car and showed her the guest room and the bathroom in the hall. At the guest room door Clara said, “Aaron, thank you for everything. I’m sorry about your mother. I understand why she was proud of you.”

  His eyes pinkened, and he bobbed his head in acknowledgment. On impulse, Clara put her arms around him. When he hugged her in return, she felt his lips brush the top of her head.

  The next morning, she got up early and left for Luna Bay.

  13

  “Vickie Ann’s head hurt. I told her to stay home and I’d drive around and try to find Jim,” Patsy Orr said. “I went all over town and never saw him. Then I got to thinking maybe somebody gave him a ride out to Luton’s Landing. He was always talking about Luton’s Landing, and how he saw Coby there the day Alice was killed.”

  Patsy was tremulous and emotional, twisting her hands in her lap. She wore a skirt printed with poodles, and there was a poodle pin at the neck of her blouse. She was sitting across from Aaron in his office, his first appointment of the day. Aaron had read the reports of Jim Tuttle’s drowning, but he wanted to hear Patsy’s story for himself. “Why would anybody give Jim a ride to Luton’s Landing?” he said.

  Patsy shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he told somebody he lived out there.” She blew her nose. “I can’t believe this has happened,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “So you just had a notion he was out there and thought you’d check?”

  She blew her nose again. “I thought maybe he managed to get out there somehow. He could be determined, when he got an idea in his head. And he was very agitated about Alice’s murder these days.”

  Aaron nodded grimly.

  “So—” Patsy drew an unsteady breath— “I drove up and parked in that vacant lot and walked down to the canal. I didn’t even see him at first, floating—” Patsy sobbed briefly and went on, “and then I saw him, not moving. I thou
ght he must be dead but I couldn’t believe it. He was too far out for me to reach him. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran to a trailer back in the woods and got a man to come help.”

  Aaron was chagrined and disgusted. He had had no idea that Jim Tuttle had a gun and that Vickie Ann wore the cabinet key around her neck. “You should’ve called the police in the first place,” he said.

  “Vickie Ann didn’t want to! She didn’t want anybody to know!”

  “You should’ve called anyway.”

  “I understand that now!” Patsy’s face was scarlet. “I thought I could find him and bring him back home. I thought everything would be all right!”

  Aaron said, “So you went to a trailer and got a man to help.”

  “There was a trailer back in the woods. He came to the door and he went to the canal with me.”

  “And did he help?”

  Patsy nodded. “He got an oar and guided Jim’s body to the dock. He pulled it to shore and up on the bank.”

  “Then what?”

  “Jim was dead. We could see he was dead. So the man said he didn’t have a phone so I’d better report this. And that’s what I did.”

  “Who was the man? Did he wait there with you?”

  “No.” Patsy frowned. “I made the call, and he said— I think he said he’d left his stove on. And— now I remember— he said he’d be right back, and he left.”

  “Did he come back?”

  “No. No he didn’t. The ambulance came.”

  Aaron thought this was odd. “What was the man’s name?”

  “I don’t know. He never told me.” Patsy’s eyes were large behind the lenses of her glasses. “It’s strange, now that I think of it.”

  “Yes. It is,” Aaron said. “Where was this trailer again?”

  Patsy gave him vague directions, and Aaron said, “That’s all for now, Patsy. You can go.”

  Patsy gathered her things, and Aaron stood to see her out. At the door, she turned and said, “If Clara Trent hadn’t come to town— if she hadn’t gotten things all stirred up—”