Nowhere to Hide

by Carlene Thompson

  Marissa counted to ten, letting the wave of anger pass and reason return. Andrew was right. She wanted to cover the Buddy Pruitt case because she hadn’t covered anything of significance since Andrew had hired her, but this particular case should not be hers.

  Still, she couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice when she said, “You’re the boss. What would you like for me to work on today?”

  “The upcoming performance of the Aurora Falls Choristers Friday evening, the Doggie Santa Claus Costume Competition Saturday afternoon, and the obituaries.”

  Marissa looked at him. Andrew remained straight-faced, but laughter danced in his eyes. “Yes, sir! And may I say that days like this are why I went into journalism.”

  3

  The morning dragged for Marissa, who felt chained to her chair and the telephone. The only excitement arrived with Hank Landers returning from Eric’s press conference. According to Eric, Buddy Pruitt had been stabbed three times in the back, destroying his kidneys and spleen. The murder weapon had been a knife. Apparently, the attack had occurred on the sidewalk and the attacker had dragged Pruitt’s body onto the lawn of 1834 Oak Lane. As of yet, the police had no leads.

  “In other words, we don’t know any more than we did last night,” Marissa said to Andrew while Hank wrote the story.

  “We know the killer used a knife.”

  “What a surprise! Smooth or serrated blade? The police aren’t going to release that information yet or maybe at all. We don’t even know if they found the knife. They certainly know more than they’re saying. But I know they have to withhold some details to ask all those nuts who always come in confessing to a crime.” Marissa sighed. “Buddy was such a pain, but harmless. And friendless…” She saw the look in Andrew’s eyes become wary. Of course, she thought. Buddy’s only “friend” had been Dillon, Andrew’s brother. She decided not to mention Dillon now. He was best left forgotten. “Well, the day isn’t over. Maybe the police will release more information this afternoon.”

  “Don’t forget—Hank’s daughter Robbie works as a deputy. We have a spy.”

  “And you know Hank is far too admirable to make his daughter spy for him. Besides, from everything I’ve heard, Robbie is a good girl, Andrew. We don’t want to corrupt her.”

  He winked at Marissa. “A spy with a crush on Eric Montgomery. Anyway, you’re right—my finer nature won’t let me stoop to using her for information.”

  After Andrew returned to his office, Marissa headed for the coffee machine. At least the coffee was better here than at the police headquarters, she thought. For that blessing everyone owed Tonya Ward, or Tonya Archer, who had married Andrew last summer, to the surprise of most people in Aurora Falls. They’d certainly kept their romance on the down low. Annemarie, who hung on to the city’s gossip ring for as long as possible, told Marissa they were seeing each other, and two weeks later they had eloped.

  Marissa felt as if she was dragging every word she wrote from her sluggish, sleep-deprived mind. Shortly before noon, she was back at the coffee machine for her third cup when Tonya swept through the Gazette doors. Marissa hadn’t seen Tonya since the day after Gretchen died, and even then they hadn’t spoken, their stories of Dillon Archer’s actions being polar opposites.

  Marissa wandered back to her desk, taking time to see that Tonya was still slender and wore her russet-colored hair long and almost straight. She barely nodded to a couple of reporters, then hurried into Andrew’s office and closed the door. He looked up in surprise and Tonya pulled a red envelope from her purse and shoved it at him. He reached for it, but she pulled it back, waving her arms, her voice growing loud enough for people outside the office to hear. One of the female reporters looked over at Marissa and winked before she lowered her head. Marissa did the same, acting as if she were working diligently while she strained to hear actual words, not just Tonya’s heated diatribe. In less than five minutes, a pink-faced Andrew had risen from his chair, grabbed his coat, and quickly steered Tonya outside.

  4

  Andrew had nearly pulled Tonya from the Gazette office half a block down to a cozy dim little restaurant named The Grille and shoved her into a booth. He sat down across from her and said sharply, “Let me see the picture again.”

  Tonya’s eyes narrowed. Her face tightened while color heightened in her cheeks. She didn’t move. Andrew looked at her and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I reacted that way, honey,” he said in a beleaguered voice. “I was up half the night, everyone’s having hysterics over Buddy Pruitt’s murder, and then you came charging in with that picture. I don’t think you know how loud you were talking, but I apologize for yanking you out of the building. I have the manners of a gorilla.”

  Tonya relaxed and even smiled. “I don’t know how gorillas act, but you’re forgiven anyway. I get loud when I’m excited or upset. I should be the one apologizing, though. Half the people in the office were looking at me.”

  “Never mind them. May I see what’s inside the envelope?”

  Tonya opened her purse and withdrew a square red envelope suitable for a greeting card. She handed it to Andrew. He skimmed the front with its typed address Mrs. Tonya Archer, not Mr. and Mrs. Archer. The flap had been tucked inside the envelope, not licked and glued. Andrew pulled out a photograph of Tonya and him decorating their Christmas tree in front of the picture window of their new house. The picture had been taken at night, but they’d turned on every lamp in the living room, including the Christmas tree lights, and their beaming faces showed clearly. Andrew turned over the picture:

  Hope you’re enjoying your new life, Tonya.

  D.A.

  “Well?” Tonya asked anxiously.

  “You think this is from Dillon.”

  “Of course I do! Don’t you?”

  The waitress came by and both Tonya and Andrew ordered a hamburger and coffee, although she asked for decaf. After the girl left, Andrew went into a deep study of the photo again. Tonya thought she would scream.

  “Andrew, he knows where we live!”

  “Will you please lower your voice?” he asked tightly. “Aurora Falls only has a population of around forty thousand people. We’re not hard to find. Besides, his knowing where we live isn’t important—”

  “Isn’t important!”

  “Tonya, you have to calm down. You’re going to get one of your headaches,” Andrew said kindly.

  “One is already starting.”

  “Then take some of your medication now. The doctor said the pills work better if you take them when the headache is beginning than when it’s already going full force.”

  Tonya smiled as she searched her purse for a small pill container. “You make the headaches sound like locomotives, and that’s exactly what they feel like.”

  “Well, I might not be an F. Scott Fitzgerald, but I have a writer’s imagination of sorts. I just wish we could find the cause and stop them.”

  “Maybe they’ll stop as quickly as they began.” Tonya swallowed two pills with a gulp of water and almost choked. She grabbed her napkin, coughed heartily for a moment, then looked at Andrew with regretful hazel eyes. “I’m embarrassing you.”

  “You’re worrying me. Sweetheart, you’re going to pieces about a photograph someone took of us decorating our Christmas tree.”

  Tonya frowned. “That’s not all I’m going to pieces about. Someone intruded on our lives, caught us in an intimate moment—”

  “Decorating a Christmas tree isn’t exactly intimate, Tonya.” Andrew smiled.

  “It was to me. I’ve told you we never had a Christmas tree after Dad left. Mom said the trees made too much mess and were silly. Your dad never allowed the family to have one. This is the first one I’ve had for years, your first one ever, and we bought and decorated it together. Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Andrew sighed. “Can’t you see how happy I look in that picture? Do you think I’ve suddenly changed my mind since Friday night when we put up the tree?”

&
nbsp; “No.” Tonya kept her gaze downcast as the waitress brought their coffee and left. “But when I think of someone outside watching us—”

  “We realize we should have drawn the draperies. Simple as that.”

  “No, it isn’t simple. What about that message inside? It’s a threat, Andrew. It’s a threat from Dillon!”

  Tonya knew Andrew wouldn’t talk to her as if she were a child, attempt to tease her out of her fear. He would try to make her feel calm, though. Calm and safe, and that’s what she desperately needed.

  “I admit ‘Hope you’re enjoying your new life, Tonya,’ is meant to be sardonic, but I don’t think it’s a threat.” He paused. “You have a strong personality, Tonya. You’ve laughed about it. You don’t mince words, and while I love that quality in you, someone else might not. This could have come from someone you pissed off and didn’t even know it.”

  “Like a clerk in a store?” Andrew nodded. “A clerk who would go to the trouble of standing outside in the cold until they could get a picture of us being happy together, put a sardonic question on the back, and then stick it in our mailbox?”

  “People are crazy.” Andrew’s gaze flickered. “I didn’t even notice that there was no stamp.”

  “Andrew, Dillon’s been to our door!”

  This time Andrew couldn’t help laughing. Tonya stiffened, offended, but Andrew couldn’t stop. Finally, he was able to down a gulp of water and get control of himself. “Tonya, you sound like someone in a horror movie. Quite a few people have come to our front door and we’re still alive and well.” He paused. “But you’re afraid Dillon was at our door.”

  Their sandwiches arrived and they went silent until the waitress left for the third time. “Yes. Your brother, Dillon. Look at the card. How many other people do we know with the name Dillon?” Tonya asked earnestly.

  “Honey, it’s signed ‘D.A.,’ not ‘Dillon.’ You’re letting your imagination run away with you. But what if Dillon did put the picture in the mailbox? He had an offbeat sense of humor—he’d think that was funny.”

  “Well, it isn’t! Why aren’t you more upset?”

  “Why are you so upset?” Andrew ignored his sandwich, reached across the table and took her hand. “You know you can tell me anything.”

  Tonya’s gaze wavered as her mind raced. How she wished she could tell him anything, but she was afraid his love wasn’t strong enough to make him forgive her. “Everyone is saying Dillon is back,” she began. “I don’t think so many people could be wrong.”

  “I don’t know how many people are saying Dillon is here—no one has said it to me. It would be stupid for him to come to Aurora Falls where so many people think he murdered Gretchen Montgomery unless he wanted to clear his name, but even if that’s what he’s trying to do, why would he want to hurt or scare you? You told the police he was trying to pull Gretchen off the rail onto the balcony to save her. Marissa said he pushed Gretchen to her death. It was your word against hers and you didn’t say anything that would cause him trouble.”

  “But you know how respected the Grays are in this city. Everyone would have believed Marissa.”

  “The law looks at everyone as equal,” Andrew said seriously. “In a court of law, your word would have been as good as Marissa Gray’s.”

  Dear Andrew, Tonya thought. He was idealistic, a trait she both loved and found naïve. Sometimes, she thought he couldn’t be as unsophisticated as he sounded. It was an act. Other times, Tonya was certain of his sincerity. She knew she was jaded, though. She found it nearly impossible to have faith in others and it made her overcritical. She’d decided months ago that if Andrew could believe so fervently that the justice system was always fair and people’s fates didn’t always depend on the esteem of important people, she would cherish rather than try to destroy his trust.

  Tonya stared at her husband for a moment and then gave him a weak smile. “You’re right—the levelheaded one as always. I guess I’ve had visions of Dillon escaping from Buddy and then just going wild, literally crazy.”

  “Dressing up in a monster outfit and trying to cause Marissa to wreck? Coming home to murder Buddy, his friend?” Andrew shook his head. “I’ve always thought Buddy probably didn’t make it too hard for Dillon to get away. They probably cooked up the scheme together.” He squeezed her hand. “Tonya, sweetie, I’d be the first to agree that Dillon was rowdy, a troublemaker, and he had a bad temper. Sometimes he seemed fierce. He wouldn’t kill someone, though, unless it was self-defense.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  “Tonya, he’s my brother.”

  “Yes, he’s your brother. If he did manage to clear himself of killing Gretchen, would you want us to be one big, happy family with him going along cheerfully causing trouble for us and being a bad influence on our son?”

  “When we have two sons and a daughter.”

  “Oh really? I’m beginning to feel like one of Henry the Eighth’s poor wives. ‘Give me an heir and a spare and a pretty princess to marry to the king of a rich country or it’s off with your head, woman!’”

  “It’s not all that bad. I plan on giving you plenty of time, not jumping the gun or anything.” Tonya smiled and Andrew continued, “Tonya, Buddy didn’t have anything to fear from Dillon and neither do you. Someone simply started a rumor that Dillon is back in Aurora Falls, and a week or two afterward Buddy was murdered. The people who linked the two things are now losing their minds, certain Dillon is a crazed murderer loose on the streets. It’s a sort of mob mentality.”

  “And I became part of the mob just because of a weird Christmas card. I’m smarter than that. Aren’t I?”

  “You are the smartest woman I know.”

  “The smartest woman you know?”

  “The smartest person I know in the whole, entire universe. Now eat your sandwich.”

  Andrew lifted his sandwich and was about to bite in with gusto when Tonya tilted her head. “Andrew, why did you hire Marissa Gray when she said your brother murdered Gretchen?”

  Andrew looked like he wanted to groan and laid down his sandwich. “She’s smart, she’s young but shows signs of becoming an excellent reporter, with wonderful credentials, and I always thought she and her sister were fairly great people. I also don’t believe she lied about Dillon pushing Gretchen. She and Gretchen were so close, like sisters, that I think the shock of that night caused her to think she saw something she didn’t.” He paused. “I’ve never discussed this with her, but after all this time to calm down and really analyze what she saw I’d bet you a hundred dollars she’d no longer swear she saw Dillon push Gretchen.”

  “I’m glad you have so much faith in her, but I think you’d better count on having a hundred dollars less to spend on my Christmas gift.”

  Andrew laughed and then slowly grew sober. “My God, you’re not going to ask Marissa what she saw the night of Gretchen’s fall, are you?” Tonya remained silent. “Tonya, let this whole thing alone. You’re right—this is our first Christmas together and I want it to be perfect, not spoiled by dredging up all that awful business with Gretchen. Promise me.”

  Tonya looked at him intensely, then relaxed and smiled. “Nothing is going to ruin our Christmas. I promise.”

  Chapter 7

  1

  As Marissa finished her last obituary, Andrew casually walked to her desk and said softly, “Time for you to go home.”

  “Home? It’s not four fifteen. Did I mess up an obituary? Offend a judge on the board of the Doggie Santa Claus Costume Competition? Drink too much expresso?”

  “The latter. You’ve been running on empty since about noon. I should have made you take the day off, but I knew you’d argue. Anyway, I don’t want you fainting from exhaustion. I’ll get a reputation for being a slave driver.” Andrew grinned. “Take the extra time, Marissa, and don’t fight me. I promise the paper won’t collapse without you, even if you are one of our finest reporters.”

  “That’s not fair—ending an order with a compliment.
”

  “Life isn’t fair,” Andrew said, walking away. “Get used to it.”

  Secretly Marissa could have kissed Andrew for letting her go early. She was exhausted. She also had an errand she wanted to do before evening fell so maddeningly early in the winter. She knew many people considered her audacious, but she wasn’t daring enough to run around at night with a murderer on the loose.

  Exhausted, again furious at the sight of her clunky rental car, and depressed by the weather, Marissa gritted her teeth and drove to the florist nearest the Gazette offices. Once she stepped inside, the gloomy, pewter-skied day disappeared as a world of red, green, gold, and silver surrounded her. Wreaths hung everywhere—pine, balsam, cedar, fir—emitting delectable scents and decorated with pine cones, red and plaid ribbons, crab apples, and red berries. “Good King Wenceslas” played just loud enough to be pleasant. The tangy smells, the lights, and the music raised her spirits.

  Marissa spent at least half an hour looking at real and artificial wreaths as well as beautiful table enhancements. Moving on to the living, potted Christmas decorations, Marissa dithered mentally for a few minutes and then decided on Prestige Red poinsettias growing in a gold foil–wrapped pot with a green velveteen bow. When she left the store, she felt as if she’d stepped out of a fairyland so she could visit a place that always gave her an ache in her heart.

  Marissa thought Aurora Falls Cemetery was one of the loveliest cemeteries she’d ever seen. Just outside the city, the waterfall formed a beautiful backdrop for the cemetery and provided the ever-present sound of rushing water. On most days, sunshine gleamed on the falls creating a rainbow of color. Marissa’s parents were buried here, but it was not their graves she’d come to visit.