Chapter 22
Meggie sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy the light lunch Molly prepared earlier that morning. A small vase of pansies sat in the center of the kitchen table and brightened up the occasion.
Their hostess poured three glasses of iced tea and then passed around a small bowl of lemon slices. She encouraged them to eat as much as they wanted and mentioned a pan of lasagna in the refrigerator for their supper.
Soon after sitting down, the subject of Michael’s job came up. Molly talked about the oil boom in North Dakota, what Michael actually did on the job and how he landed it in the first place. “So although he makes good money working for the oil company, he misses home. He’s hoping to find employment in the area so he can move back here.”
Shirley kept the conversation lively with her rendition of Bill and Walter’s annual fishing trip to the cabin on Gopher Lake in northern Minnesota. “I don’t understand their idea of fun. They hole up in a cabin in the sticks and do nothing but fish.” She helped herself to more fruit salad and elicited laughs when she said, “Fruit salad with real whipped cream. I’m starting my diet on Monday.”
“Meggie, I can’t tell you how surprised I felt when you told me about the secret staircase. When I told Michael what you discovered, he couldn’t believe it.” Molly lifted her glass of iced tea, took a sip and set it back down on the table.
“I know it sounds crazy that we never discovered the secret passageway ourselves. But in all honesty, we seldom go upstairs and we rarely have guests.” She picked up her pork sandwich and bit into it. “And remember, we purchased the house long before we used it as a residence. It served as a weekend getaway for some time.”
Meggie thought about Fred and how he disguised the panel door in the bedroom wall. “Building a small bookcase over the panel took some doing,” she said. “I really admire Fred’s handiwork. Amelia told me he liked to tinker around and come up with unusual ideas.”
She realized Molly didn’t know the full details about the discovery of the hidden staircase and what led up to it. She proceeded to fill her in. When she finished her tale, she set her napkin on the table. “. . . and if I hadn’t been checking out the attic, we still wouldn’t know it existed.”
“That is quite a story. We’re so pleased you made the discovery.”
Molly asked if anyone would like more tea. Both women nodded. She refilled their glasses and encouraged them to have another brownie while she cleared the dirty lunch dishes off the table.
When she returned to the table, she sat down and picked up a brownie from the desert plate. “Anyway, I’ve been waiting to tell you something you’ll both find interesting.” Her eyes sparkled. “After I returned home, I checked all the stairs to see if there were any more hiding places. Guess what I discovered?”
Meggie’s stomach fluttered. She set her iced tea down on the table and waited in suspense to hear what Molly would say.
“After all my searching, and I mean every stair in this house, I didn’t find any more secret hiding places but I did find . . .”
Shirley’s eyes lit up. “Tell me you found something that will point to Fred’s killer.”
A heavy sigh escaped Molly. “I wish I could tell you the name of the person who murdered Fred, but I can’t. But I can tell you I discovered a key in the stair where you found the letters. It had gotten stuck in a crack.”
“That’s interesting.” Meggie’s gaze focused on Molly. “Did you let Barry know what you found?”
Molly nodded and stated she called Barry the same day she found the key. He had no idea what the key belonged to. Although he figured it probably was garbage, he asked her to drop it in the mail. Molly’s face tightened. “I wondered if sending it in the mail would be taking a chance. What if the key turned out to be for something important and it was lost in the mail?”
“Maybe Fred had cash stashed somewhere in a locker,” Shirley babbled. “Or maybe he had other valuables hidden away.”
“It doesn’t matter because I didn’t send it.” Molly looked sheepish and rubbed her finger up and down her glass of iced tea. “Actually, I forgot all about it until I cleaned out that hutch in the garage yesterday. I came across some old photographs and a few paper documents.”
Molly went on to say she called Barry earlier in the day to let him know about the photos and documents. He wasn’t home but she spoke with his daughter who happened to be at his house visiting. “I asked her to tell Barry I’d box up the key along with the photographs and documents and get them in the mail tomorrow.” Molly nodded to the package on the table.
The conversation turned to the history of Fred’s antique hutch and why Molly and Michael had it in their garage after all these years. “I’m embarrassed to say I planned to refinish it early on, but I just haven’t found the time.” Molly sucked on a piece of ice then bit into it. “When I returned home from North Dakota I promised myself I would finish the job and move it back into the house.”
A few minutes later she pushed her chair back and stood up. “You two better hurry if you plan to ride the horses. I kept them in the corral this morning so you wouldn’t have to look for them.” She glanced out the window. “You never know how long this weather will hold out.”
Later that evening after Molly left for work, the women rested on the front porch. The floor creaked beneath their rocking chairs. The wind chime tinkled. Both women seemed lost in thought.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” Shirley scowled and popped a last piece of brownie into her mouth. “Did you know you have a really bad habit?”
Meggie laughed and turned her head toward her friend. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but I have no doubt you’re going to tell me.”
“You think about something, blurt it out and expect me to know what you’re talking about.”
Meggie leaned her head back and chuckled. “You’re right. I’m guilty as charged. Walter has accused me of the same thing.” She paused a moment. “I’ve been thinking about the hutch and the fact that it’s still on the farm after all these years.”
“Why is that such a big deal?” Shirley asked. “Barry didn’t want to keep the hutch so he let it go with the house. He could have sold the hutch outright, but he didn’t. Molly wanted to refinish it. End of story.”
Meggie drummed her fingers on the rocking chair and thought about Barry and his reason for not keeping the hutch. Simply stated, he didn’t like old furniture. The hutch had no sentimental value to him. It was less work to give it away than try to sell it.
“You’re right. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.” Meggie swatted a mosquito on her leg. “Perhaps Molly will refinish it, move it into the house and enjoy it. I think Fred would like that.”
Meggie sipped her water and gazed over the front yard. “I suppose he just missed them.”
“There you go again.” Shirley stopped rocking and turned her body to face her friend. “Who missed what?”
“The documents and old photos Molly found in the hutch.” Meggie wrinkled her brow. “I wonder how Barry missed them when he cleaned out the hutch.”
“Molly said the photos were bent and the documents faded. She found them crammed behind a drawer. How do you know Barry even cleaned it out?” Shirley’s lip curled. “Why are we talking about this anyway?”
Meggie sat up straight. “What if . . .”
“She’s on a roll,” Shirley muttered mostly to herself.
“What if the old hutch was never meant to leave this farm?” Meggie’s eyes bored into Shirley’s. “What if, for whatever reason, Fred wanted someone to find those photographs and papers?”
“Oh, yeah.” Shirley sighed heavily and threw up her hands. “I’m spending the night with a nut job.” Before Meggie could say anything, Shirley rattled on. “If you
’re so curious about those documents why don’t you open the package and read them? It wouldn’t be the first time you pried into someone else’s business.”
“No. We’ll drop the box off at the post office in the morning like I promised Molly.” Meggie stood up and walked to the edge of the porch. She studied the sky. The sun had hidden behind ominous looking clouds and left in its place a blanket of hot air. It would get dark early. She turned back to Shirley. “If Barry finds something in the papers, it’s up to him to investigate. Not me.”
“And that’s the smartest statement you’ve made in a long time.” Shirley pushed herself to a standing position. “By the way, you never did get around to showing me the hidden staircase. I’m curious.”
A diversion couldn’t have come at a better time. Meggie motioned Shirley to follow her into the house. In the entryway she reached inside the closet door and found the flashlight. She checked to make sure the batteries were good. “We’ll need this. It’s dark up there.”
Shirley told Meggie to give her a couple minutes and headed for the bathroom. While waiting for her, Meggie decided to take Barry’s box out to the Bug. That way she wouldn’t forget it. By the time she returned, Shirley stood waiting by the stairway.
Chapter 23
Early evening light filtered through the landing window. “Stairs are going to be the death of me yet.” Shirley fanned herself on the way up the stairs.
In the bedroom she gaped at the bookcase. “I would never in a million years suspect this hid a top-secret door. To think I slept up here and never knew anything about it.” She shook her shoulders and her face crinkled. “This is all so cloak and dagger, isn’t it?”
Meggie agreed and tugged on the bookcase. It groaned, pulled away from the wall and swung open. She pointed out an added feature. A narrow strip of wood ran across the bottom of each shelf to keep the books in place when the door opened.
Shirley stuck her head through the opening and quipped over her shoulder. “You’re right. It’s dark in here.” She stepped back and waved a hand in front of her. “You first, Sherlock. I’ll bring up the rear.”
Meggie entered the dark area and swept the flashlight around. “Be careful. These stairs are uneven.” She bent down in front of the first stair, lifted the tread and shone the light inside.
“So that’s where you found the letters? This is so exciting.” Shirley ducked under the wall and directed her gaze at the small area under the tread’s lid.
Meggie scooted over to make room for Shirley. She shone the light over the cracks along the edges of the wooden bottom. “Why do you suppose Fred left a key in here?”
“Didn’t Vera tell you his house had been broken into more than once? Maybe he wanted to hide it just like the letters. Or he might have dropped it there by mistake. Molly said she found it jammed in a crack.”
Meggie studied the inside of the hollow stair, ran her finger over the bottom and pushed down on the narrow end. The board flipped up. Her breath hitched. “What in the world?” She reached into the space under the stair’s false bottom and lifted out a wooden heart-shaped box. It appeared homemade and a name had been carved across the top. Amelia.
“What do you think this means?”
“I think it means we ask Molly to open the package she wrapped for Barry and take that key out. I’ll bet a dollar to a donut hole that’s the key to Fred’s heart.” She set the box under the stair tread until she was through in the attic.
The air had become stifling by the time they reached the top of the stairs. Meggie’s forehead dripped with perspiration, her upper lip sprouted beads of sweat. She wiped a hand over her face and ducked into the attic. The same musty smell hung in the air. Low light shone through the only window. “Be careful you don’t bump your head,” she warned.
Shirley crept through the opening and straightened her posture. “It’s completely empty.” Her voice echoed in surprise. “There’s nothing stored up here.”
“That’s what made me think Molly and Michael knew nothing about the hidden staircase. They probably thought the trap door in the upstairs bedroom was the only way to the attic. So they stored everything in the garage.” Meggie shone the light on the floor in front of her. “Come on. I’ll show you the trapdoor.”
“Did you hear that?” Shirley stood very still and cocked her ear.
“I didn’t hear anything. Your imagination must be playing tricks on you.”
“You’re probably right, but I would swear someone yelled something. It sounded like it came from that direction.” Shirley pointed toward the front of the house. “What happened to that window?”
“I found it broken after the storm and fixed it temporarily.” She moved past the trapdoor and pointed it out to Shirley.
“I know I’ve waffled on whether or not you saw an intruder up here. I want you to know I believe you now.”
“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Meggie grinned and strode toward the window. “Come look at the view of the backyard from here.”
Shirley edged up to the window. “I just think it’s odd that no one seemed to know about the stairway except the intruder.”
Meggie gazed out across the backyard, lost in thought. She recalled her first conversation with Amelia Schmidt. “Darrell Schmidt probably knew about the secret passageway. I’m sure he’s the mysterious intruder even if he hasn’t admitted it.”
Shirley tapped her lip. “I wonder why he hasn’t come clean.”
“Think about it,” Meggie explained. “There are repercussions if he admits to breaking and entering. Right now he’s being charged with several offenses, but not breaking and entering.”
“You’re right. He’d get more time in the cooler if they charged him with that.”
The evening light faded and a dark veil fell over the farm yard. Meggie turned away from the window. She flashed the light toward the opposite end of the attic. “I think we’re done up here. Let’s go have dessert.”
When Meggie didn’t move, Shirley prodded. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you standing there? You act like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
Meggie shaded the flashlight and whispered, “I think I heard the back door slam.”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Shirley looked stricken. “Did we leave the back door unlocked?”
Meggie stepped back and peered out the attic window. She couldn’t see anything in the dark, but listened closely. The back door slammed a second time. She put a hand to her chest.
Shirley leaned into her friend. “Maybe Molly came home early.”
“No, I don’t think it’s her. The door slammed twice.” Meggie crept to the attic wall. She lowered herself to the floor and pressed her ear over the crack between the attic floor and wall but couldn’t hear anything.
Shirley knelt down on all fours next to her. “Are there two of them? What do you think they’re up to?” Her voice quivered. “What if they come up to the attic? What are we going to do?”
“I can tell you what we aren’t going to do,” Meggie whispered. “We aren’t going downstairs.” She kept her ear to the floor. After several minutes she heard a gruff voice shout, but his words were inaudible. She jabbed her finger toward the opposite end of the attic. “They must be moving through the house.”
Shirley gasped and pushed herself up. “They’re getting closer. We can’t let them know we’re up here.”
A brief silence came over the house then a female voice bellowed, “Quit arguing. Get the job done or you’ll find yourself—”
Before she could finish, a masculine voice cut in, “If I go down you’re going with me.”
Meggie felt a lump in her throat and swallowed. She pushed herself part-way up. Her leg cramped. She mouthed a scream, rolled over and tried to rub the spasm from her leg.
“Oh, my gosh,” Shirley
bent over Meggie. “It sounds like they’re near the entryway. Try to stand up and walk on your leg.” She pulled on her friend’s arm.
Meggie fought the pain and stood up. She put weight on both feet. Her hand flew to her mouth. “We left the secret door open.”
“We’re dead meat,” Shirley hissed and glanced around the room. “There’s no place to hide.”
Meggie put her hands against Shirley’s shoulders. “Wait here and don’t move.” She took the flashlight and limped toward the hidden staircase as quietly as she could.
Once through the opening, she shaded the flashlight and placed her foot on the first stair. She steadied herself against the wall, tapped her way to the second stair. Part way down the flight, her foot slipped. She felt herself falling backward and fought to keep her balance. The flashlight struck the wall.
“What was that? It sounded like it came from upstairs.” The man’s gravelly voice was barely audible. “I don’t think we’re alone in the house.”
An eerie hush descended. The air grew thick. A stair creaked. Then another. Footsteps grew louder. One footstep sounded heavier than the other. Did the man limp?
Meggie sat on her buttocks and scooted down the remaining stairs. She reached out for the secret door and pulled it towards her.
Footsteps thumped into the bedroom and a rough voice shouted, “You ain’t gonna believe this, but I just saw that bookcase move.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the woman answered him. “Let’s make a quick search up here and leave. She said they’re somewhere in the house.” The bedroom floor creaked as footsteps shuffled past the secret door and faded.
Meggie stood motionless, elbows pressed into her sides. Only muted sounds broke through the barrier that separated her from danger. She held her hand on her chest to quiet her pounding heart. Something thumped above her. An eerie howl split the air.
Bring Home the Murder Page 14