Chapter 14
“Boston, are you going to be taking the police exam again this November?” The chief asked me Monday afternoon. “Because it might be that this time you would pass.”
They had a cake waiting for me when I came into work that morning and everyone had been congratulatory and also sympathetic. Except Gordon, but he wasn’t nasty. I hadn’t shot anyone, but I guess the guys still considered this as being a death in the line of duty thing. The chief even offered me more time off, if I needed it, but I told him that Blue and I were happy to be back in our routine.
I had borrowed Dad’s block and tackle on my lunch hour and tried it out on the sandbag. I had also checked the rules carefully. It said nothing in the manual about not using outside aids. I would definitely pass that part of the test if I took it again. The sandbag wasn’t the problem any more. Instead, I had a new weighty burden to lift, one in my mind.
Death, regular death, is big and inevitable, sometimes even a kindly release, something we build religions around to make it less scary and hurtful when it comes. It isn’t so personal and wrong when it happens because we all die in time.
But the kind of death, murder, I had seen this last week was very personal. It was a desecration, life taken out of order and an offense against God and nature. It was sickening. Not that I was going to say this out loud. The chief already knew this. All cops— real cops— knew this. This nasty and belated little epiphany was all mine and I felt stupid for not truly understanding this about the job before.
“I don’t know, chief,” I said honestly. “I really like figuring things out. But I don’t like…” I could see that hammer whacking into the janitor’s skull and the left eye bulging in its socket. Then I heard Ryan Endicott breaking bones on the stone stairs as they killed him one tread at a time. When I came back to myself I found my hands fisted in Blue’s fur and I was shaking. “I don’t like the violence. The ugliness. I’m not good with that… stuff.”
“There are sometimes drunks and brawls on the job. And sometimes worse,” the chief agreed. “People are people and some of them are bad. But, Boston, I would hate to lose you now that I know what you can do.”
“You won’t lose me,” I said candidly. “It’s just that I think Blue and I can help in other ways. We see a lot of small but important stuff on our rounds.”
Like the pumpkin thief. I had figured out who it was and finally decided what to do about it. This wasn’t something I was going to share with anyone else though.
“Okay. Think about it for a few days and I’ll hold a slot for you. You don’t need to decide anything now.”
“Okay,” I agreed and then Blue and I left the office.
* * *
I put the coffee pot on the table next to the pecan blondies and the bottle of Coastal Fog chardonnay. As I looked at my guests I realized that socially I tend to hang out with a slightly geriatric crowd. That was okay. They were good people and cared about me.
“As near as we can figure, Ryan went to find his birth mom after he broke into the Fulbright Home For Wayward Girls and got his birth records,” I went on. Dad, Jeffrey and Mr. Jackman gave me their undivided attention. They had even stopped eating cookies. “With more forensic testing they may be able to prove he killed Deborah and Alonzo. I think Detective Alverez will reopen the case now.”
“So he killed both his adoptive parents and his birth mom and her husband?” Mr. Jackman asked.
“Yes. I’m sure even if we never prove it. Even if we never know why.”
“And the Burnses? He killed them because of the incest?”
“I don’t think so. I think by then he just wanted the money.”
Mr. Jackman made a face. I thought it was vile too. Revenge for the rape of his mother was something I could better accept than killing for money.
“There was a lot of money,” Dad added, seeing Mr. Jackman’s grimace. “A lot. Old man Burns toiled not nor did he spin,” Dad said, both misquoting and using bad grammar. He turned to me. “You know, David and the city council might not have done anything technically illegal by sitting on these funds for so many years but—”
“But they didn’t rise up in wrath and insist on justice when David pointed out that they had a long time in which to look for heirs and in the meantime they could use the money as a sort of interest-free loan.” This was Mr. Jackman. He writes westerns and has a very clear sense of what is right and what is wrong.
“And David finally taking action— and letting the heirs know about the money— is why Ryan murdered Hector. David told the brothers about one another and arranged a meeting for the Monday after Halloween. Ryan said he couldn’t come, but of course he was here. He faked up a radio program in advance and paid one of his buddies to put it on air. It was Halloween. Who would blame him for wanting to be out and having some fun? It’s too bad for him that the janitor stopped in to clean the office and figured out he was gone.”
“He flew up Saturday morning?” Dad asked.
“Yes, using a fake ID they found at his apartment later. He also used it at the motor court where he had a room.” I took a deep breath. Everyone wanted the details but I found the whole thing difficult to talk about. “He probably lured Hector to the house by saying he wanted to see the family home and they should do it together. It’s what I would have done. If I were Ryan.”
“Poor Hector,” Jeffrey said softly. I think he was more appalled than Dad or Mr. Jackman.
“Yeah, imagine finding out you have a brother and then having him kill you.” Mr. Jackman shook his head. “It’s Cain and Abel.”
“Hector came because— I’m guessing that he was excited when he found out about Ryan and decided to just seize the moment—”
“Thinking he could drop things like a hot potato if he didn’t like his brother. Or uncle. The genealogists would have a time with this one,” Mr. Jackman muttered.
“Half brother,” I said, choosing the least horrible relationship. “And I hope with all my heart that Hector didn’t know about Ryan’s situation because that would mean that his mom told him about the incest and the baby when he was very young and I would like to think Hector had some period of innocent happiness before his parents were killed. I also choose to believe that he never saw the attack coming. Endicott is very fast and he attacked from behind. There would be no advantage in giving Hector any warning, so at least he died not knowing anything was wrong.” I stopped for a moment. “I’ve been trying to look at things the way Ryan did so I can understand. That’s what detectives do. It isn’t easy though.”
“I should hope not,” Dad said. His voice was gruff but kind. “Why the knife and then the hanging? Didn’t he like blowing his victims up? Was it to change his M.O. and throw off the police?”
“It was a crime of opportunity. And why blow up the Burns mansion if he was going to inherit it?” I smiled but there was no humor in it.
“Ryan would probably have been happy to wait for due process, however slow, as long as he thought he was the only heir, and none of this recent stuff would have happened if David hadn’t tried to bring the two brothers together. If Ryan hadn’t known about Hector beforehand— not that I am blaming David for this— then it would have been a fait accompli. Hector had a will leaving his money elsewhere and there would have been no point to killing him once he inherited. Ryan might have let it go.”
“David! It figures he’d be involved in this mess.” Dad’s revulsion was clear.
“Letting the siblings know of each other’s existence is something any of us might have done,” I insisted, though I have no liking for my ex and am willing to lay all kinds of other blame at his door.
“Maybe, but he did tell them, and Ryan didn’t want to share with his brother.”
“Yes, and once he knew…. Well, Ryan had already killed so many people. What was one more?” I thought of Gwen, another nasty sibling out to wreck her brother’s life, and said to my dad: “I’m real glad you only had one child.”
&
nbsp; For some reason that made him laugh.
“Me too. I couldn’t have raised two of you.”
We didn’t talk about what happened in San Francisco. The security tape had been on the news. I hadn’t watched it and I was pretty certain I never would. Mom had been overcome with horror when she saw it, and only revived when I told her about the indignities I had suffered at Alex’s sister’s hands. Mom has her priorities— like getting me married. They aren’t my goals, most of the time, but they served in this case to distract her from worse things.
“What about that zombie you saw in Roosevelt. Was that Ryan?”
“I don’t think so. Ryan seemed taller. Probably just a local having some fun scaring me.”
Or it might— just perhaps— have been my imagination.
“So, what does this mean for you, Chloe?” Jeffrey asked. “The chief must be happy to have the case solved. Will you get a reward or anything besides a cake?”
“I doubt it. I don’t think I’ll even get reimbursed for my ticket— and that cost as much as a new stove!”
“But maybe the chief will finally let you on the force. If you pass the physical.” He winked.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. As I had explained to the chief, I liked solving mysteries and discovering the truth behind the secrets. But the biggest secrets were also the ugliest and most dangerous. I would have been happier not knowing Ryan Endicott’s past and to have just thought of him as some generic killer. But because I had found out the truth it made me just a little bit sorry for the villain. There was a lot of ugliness in real police work. I was no longer certain I wanted it as part of my daily life.
“One thing,” I said, peeping at Dad. “It was novel being picked on for being me— a suspect— and not for being the daughter of the former chief of police.”
They all laughed, but ruefully.
Chapter 15
I was waiting for Jacky when school let out. He was happy to see Blue and agreeable about taking a walk with us even though the wind was blowing fairly hard.
“Jacky, I know how much you like pumpkins,” I said.
“I like them better than anything. Except dogs.”
“Me too. In fact, while I was on vacation, I went to a place called Half Moon Bay and I saw a pumpkin that was bigger than my cart. It was almost as big as a car.” I fished the packet of seeds out of my fanny pack and showed him the enormous pumpkin on the front.
“Wow!” There was as much reverence in that ‘wow’ as in any Amen! from the church choir.
“So, I was thinking that maybe next summer you would like to help me make a really good pumpkin patch.”
Jacky’s slack face managed to droop. It was subtle but I was getting good at reading him.
“Mom says I can’t. Pumpkins are too messy and ugly and bring pests to her roses.”
“We would do it at my place. I have a whole yard we can grow pumpkins in.”
“Really?” Again happiness shown forth.
“Yep. It might be some work because I have been reading about what we would need to do to grow really big pumpkins. You have to shovel in a lot of mulch and make the dirt easy for their roots to grow in.”
“I can dig. I know how! Mom says I’m a great digger.”
“Good. I think Blue would enjoy having you visit too.”
Jacky beamed at Blue who wagged her tail back. It had been Blue’s consistent reaction to the thief that tipped me off.
“I’ve saved some seeds, too, so we can grow a few different kinds of pumpkin. For variety.” He stumbled over this word. “I like to have some that are good for making pies, and the white pumpkins are pretty.”
“I have some seeds too. At least I think I have.” We were getting to the heart of the matter. I decided not to confront him about the thefts.
“You can cut open a pumpkin, take out a few seeds, rinse them in cool water and then let them dry on a coffee filter. Does your mom have some?”
“Those things that go in the machine? Yes.”
“Are the filters brown or white?”
“Brown.”
“That’s good. Some white paper has a kind of chemical in it that can be bad for seeds. But the brown ones are good. You can keep your seeds in them until next summer. And the rest your mom can roast for eating. Or, bring them to me and I’ll roast them,” I added, when I could see he was uncomfortable with asking his mom to do it. I wondered where he was hiding all his pilfered pumpkins— surely not under his bed or in his closet.
“Okay… When is summer?”
“Um… well, first we have to have Christmas and Easter.”
“Thanksgiving too?”
“Yes, that too.”
“Okay. It will be hard to wait though.”
“I know. But sometimes we just have to be patient and let things happen in their own time.”
* * *
I took my own advice about patience and didn’t call Alex, though I did drop him an email and asked if he could send me the pumpkin picture he took with his phone.
A week went by without any response and I was beginning to lose hope. But the phone rang early Sunday morning and for once I was happy to answer.
“Hello,” I said warmly, sure I knew who was on the other end.
“Hello yourself.” Alex sounded like himself again. “Is that invitation to Thanksgiving still open?”
I sighed happily and snuggled deeper into the covers.
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’ll make a reservation today. How about if I come the Tuesday before? I’ve never had your pumpkin pie, you know.”
“Really? It’s good. I put a little maple syrup in the whipped cream.”
“I can’t wait… Um, Aunt Mary Elizabeth has decided against going down to see my folks this year. Do you suppose…?”
“I’ll call her today.” Mom would have a fit, but I would explain that she was helping with a relationship that could end in marriage. Mom would be polite to the Devil if it meant getting me married.
“Thanks. You’re the best.”
I giggled— mostly because I was happy, but also because Blue licked me. Her tail was wagging because she recognized Alex’s voice.
“Blue says hello.”
“Tell her hello back.”
“I solved the mystery of the pumpkin thief,” I said.
“Really? Who was it?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re here. It has to stay a secret. I think I’ve set the crook on the path of the straight and narrow, so there is no need for his mom to know he strayed.”
“You’re a good person, Chloe Boston.”
“So are you, Alex Lincoln.”
About the Author
Melanie Jackson is the author of 23 novels. If you enjoyed this story, please visit Melanie’s author web site at www.melaniejackson.com.
eBooks by Melanie Jackson:
The Chloe Boston Mystery Series:
Moving Violation
The Pumpkin Thief
Death in a Turkey Town
Murder on Parade
Cupid’s Revenge
Viva Lost Vegas
Death of a Dumb Bunny
Red, White and a Dog Named Blue (Summer of 2011)
The Book of Dreams Series:
The First Book of Dreams: Metropolis
The Second Book of Dreams: Meridian
The Third Book of Dreams: Destiny
Club Valhalla
Devil of Bodmin Moor
Devil in a Red Coat
Halloween
Knave of Hearts
The Curiosity Shoppe (Sequel to A Curious Affair)
Nevermore: The Last Divine Book
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter
12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
eBooks by Melanie Jackson:
The Pumpkin Thief: A Chloe Boston Mystery Page 11