Peril in Paxton Park
Page 13
Juliet darted up behind them and with a hard, quick motion, smashed the brick down on top of Lucy’s head. Lucy swayed for a moment and then keeled to the side.
Shelly rolled to her knees, coughing, spitting, and gasping.
A police siren wailed.
“Now they show up,” Juliet muttered holding tight to the brick in case Lucy made another move.
Justice dashed to her owner, put both front paws on Shelly’s leg, and trilled.
24
Lucy Millhouse was arrested for breaking and entering and for assault and battery and was at the hospital undergoing a psychiatric evaluation. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she would also soon be charged with the murders of Meg Stores and Jill Murray.
Shelly and Juliet sat in the warm sun on lounge chairs outside on the patio where not long ago they had fought Lucy Millhouse for their lives. Justice snoozed, curled up on Shelly’s stomach.
Shelly had a splint on one of her fingers that broke in the attack and she also suffered two cracked ribs. She and Juliet looked like twins, both with bruises, cuts, scrapes, and black eyes. Juliet’s nose, although not broken, was swollen from her taking multiple hits in the face. They each had strained their backs and now walked hunched over like they’d been run over by buses.
“As long as I don’t move,” Juliet said, “I don’t feel bad at all.”
Shelly started to chuckle, but the pain in her side changed the laugh to a groan of pain. “Don’t say anything funny. Never again.”
Juliet sipped from her glass of lemonade. “Let’s milk this for a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t think I have to pretend about injuries. I’ll barely be able to crawl back into the diner in two weeks.”
“You know what?” Juliet leaned against the chair and looked up at the puffy clouds lazily moving across the bright blue sky. “I’m proud of us. We did good.”
Shelly turned her head and smiled. “We sure did.” Running her hand over the cat’s warm, soft fur, she added, “And this kitty did pretty well, too. If she hadn’t heard Lucy break into the house, well, who knows what would have happened if Justice didn’t wake me.” They all knew very well what would have happened and what the outcome probably would have been, but they left that horror unsaid.
Justice had run from the house when Shelly and Lucy fell out the door on the night of the attack. The cat howled outside Juliet’s window until she woke up. Seeing the cat and hearing the fight behind Shelly’s house, Juliet called the police and tore into the yard. Thinking things through afterwards, she’d wished she’s grabbed her pepper spray and a weapon before dashing to join the melee.
“All’s well that ends well,” Shelly had told her friend even though she had her own misgivings about how she’d handled the break-in and attack.
Juliet nodded. “Next time, we’ll do even better.”
“There better not be a next time,” Shelly groaned hoping that these additional injuries wouldn’t greatly impact the recovery that had been underway from the car accident. “I’ve had enough bodily injury over these past months.”
“What we need is a week on a Caribbean island.”
“Only if we can bring the cat.”
Lucy Millhouse’s obsession with Jack Graham had caused the deaths of two young women, and nearly a third one. She had dated Jack a few times when he had moved to Paxton Park, but Jack chose not to continue seeing the woman. Lucy did not take that news well. She stalked Jack, called him incessantly, showed up outside his house. When he started to date Meg Stores, Lucy’s harassment of Jack stopped and her focus became fixed on Meg. One night when she’d met friends at the resort pub, Meg’s car wouldn’t start. Lucy offered her a lift, drove to an isolated spot in the forest and strangled Meg, dumping her body not far from the crooked trees.
Lucy then fixated on Jill Murray when she saw the woman’s interaction with Jack at the pub one night. She followed the woman and bided her time. Lucy attacked when Jill went running on the mountain trails.
Shelly was next.
As it turned out, Maria Stores had indeed spent down Meg’s inheritance and was preparing to flee the country with what remained so that her sister wouldn’t be able to get her hands on it. When Maria met Scott Bilow and learned of his financial problems, she hatched a plan to involve him in the inheritance scandal hoping to push blame for the misuse of funds onto him.
“Two awful people,” Juliet had declared. “They both deserved to be punished. Maria for stealing her sister’s money and Scott for being a bumbling, harassing monster.”
The threatening note that Maria found in Meg’s files had been written by Lucy. One night at dinner with a group of people they both knew, Lucy carefully dropped the note in Meg’s open purse when she went to the restroom. Although Lucy hadn’t confessed to it yet, the police believed that she was responsible for setting the fire at Meg’s rented house, either to get rid of the note or in another irrational surge of rage against the dead woman.
One day shortly after the attack, Shelly was sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch when Jack Graham drove up and parked in front of the house. He emerged from his vehicle carrying a vase of wildflowers.
“Excuse me,” Jack said with a twinkle in his eye. “Does a Michelle Taylor live at this house?”
Shelly answered, “What’s left of her does.”
Jack laughed and climbed the steps to hand her the vase of colorful flowers.
“They’re beautiful.” Shelly smiled, wishing she didn’t look like such an ugly brawl victim covered in bruises.
“I picked the flowers from the field we biked by the other day. I hoped they’d remind you of what a nice time we had … and how you promised to bike with me again.”
“I’d love to bike again. We’re just going to have to push the day off a couple of weeks until I can actually move again.”
“I’m a patient man.” Jack grinned.
The two talked about Lucy Millhouse and how adept she could be at hiding her obsession. Jack expressed guilt for being the object of the woman’s infatuation, not recognizing how far she would take it, and for the deaths of Meg and Jill.
Shelly said gently, “You know you aren’t to blame. Lucy was ill. Her illness was the cause, not you.”
“Logically, I know that.” Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. “Emotionally, well, that’s another story.”
Justice jumped onto the man’s lap, put her paws on his chest, and touched her nose to his. Jack’s laugh lit up the space.
Shelly looked at the sweet animal settling on Jack’s lap. “Justice says that nothing about the mess was your fault.”
“Okay, kitty.” Jack patted the calico. “I’ll try and hold onto that.”
After rocking and chatting for another hour, Jack announced that he was starving. “How about I go to Chet’s Market, pick up some food, and come back and cook dinner for both of us.”
Shelly started to protest, but Jack cut her off. “We’re both hungry. We’re having a nice time … at least, I am. I like to cook and you’re in no shape to prepare a meal. It’s win-win.”
“Okay, as long as I get to cook for you when I’m feeling better.” Shelly’s eyes glimmered.
Jack was back in a flash with two grocery bags in his arms. “I didn’t think you could drink alcohol while you’re on pain killers so I picked up a bottle of sparkling pear juice. We can pretend it’s champagne.” He helped Shelly into the kitchen and told her to supervise from the kitchen chair. Putting on some music, Jack sang as he made the dinner, even throwing a bit of dancing into his performance to make Shelly laugh. In a short time, he’d made a tossed salad, grilled broccoli, rice, and baked salmon. Jack winked. “I picked fish for the meal so that Justice would like it, too.”
He slid open the wide kitchen doors to let in the evening breeze, lit some candles and placed them on the center of the table, and served the food.
“This is wonderful,” Shelly announced more than once.
Justi
ce gobbled up her portion and sat back washing her face with her paw.
After they ate, Jack settled Shelly on the sofa with pillows behind her back and a cup of tea on the side table and then he cleaned up the dishes. He put the vase of wildflowers on the coffee table and then they watched a movie together.
In the middle of the film’s scary part, Jack reached over and held Shelly’s hand and when he did that, warmth spread through her body, and surprisingly, her bruises and breaks didn’t hurt quite as much anymore.
Thank you for reading!
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BOOK SERIES BY J. A. WHITING
PAXTON PARK COZY MYSTERIES
CLAIRE ROLLINS COZY MYSTERIES
LIN COFFIN COZY MYSTERIES
SWEET COVE COZY MYSTERIES
OLIVIA MILLER MYSTERIES (not cozy)
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J.A. Whiting lives with her family in New England. Whiting loves reading and writing mystery stories.
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