by M A Comley
It seemed like hours before he showed up again. When he did, he kicked off his shoes, took off his jacket, and scooped her up into his arms. He carried Lucy to her bedroom, tore back the covers and laid her on the bed, then tucked the covers in around her before lying down next to her. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Lucy was still cold, but it felt safe to have him there. She couldn’t trust herself not to say something that would ruin the mood and make him leave. Their relationship was still relatively new and sometimes she found herself comparing Brendon’s reactions to Mark’s. She knew she shouldn’t, they were two entirely different people, after all.
“Yes, thank you. Can you… I mean, would you tell me what is happening?”
“Apparently, the window cleaner came to collect money due to him at the house across the street. The car was in the drive. Thinking something was wrong, he peered through the front window and saw a body lying on the living room floor. He called nine-one-one, and that’s what brought us here.”
Lucy gasped and shuddered. “Oh, no! Brendon, who was it?”
“A woman named Sylvia Bertram?”
“Sylvia?” Lucy started to sit up, but the covers were tucked around her too tightly to allow her to move.
“You knew her?”
“Of course, I knew her. She was my neighbor. What happened?” Lucy swallowed down the acid burning her throat.
“It was foul play, I’m afraid. There were marks around her neck. Of course, the coroner will have to render his opinion after an autopsy, but it looked to me like she’d been choked to death.”
“Oh, no-no-no! I can’t believe this! Who would do such a thing?”
“We’ll find them, don’t worry. We’re already working on a set of tracks in the snow that lead between your house and Marnie’s before disappearing into the woods behind you.”
She leaned back to see his face. “Brendon? The night Marnie shot her gun from her window? You remember?”
“Yes.”
“That next day I went out and saw tracks leading from that very window. Large feet and deep in the snow. They also led into the woods. I followed them until they disappeared. The branches of the trees had blocked the bulk of the snow so it was nothing more than leaves.”
She felt his body stiffen. “Why didn’t my deputy investigate further?”
“I’m not sure. I guess it’s because most of the excitement surrounded Marnie shooting her gun. I don’t think the deputy took her seriously, if you want the truth. It’s sad, but people with issues like hers are often considered irrational and even mentally defective.”
“We’ll check it out in the daylight. Now, do you want to tell me how you managed to shut yourself in the attic?”
Lucy let out a sudden gasp. “I’d forgotten until just now—I was focused on whoever’s body you found. I’d gone up into the attic to look for the picnic basket I had. Our little date for tonight, remember?”
“Of course, I remember.”
“It was at the back of the attic and while I was there, I heard a noise downstairs. It sounded like the door. I called out, asking who was there. No one answered. Before I could make it back to the staircase, someone closed the door; no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get it to lower again.”
“That’s because of the two by four lodged against it.”
“Brendon, I swear to you, I have no idea how that got there. I didn’t even think I owned a chunk of wood that size. You know me—I’m no hobby builder.”
“Did you hear anything that would identify whoever could have done it? Logic tells me you’d be incapable of doing such a thing yourself.”
Lucy shook her head. “Nothing. I could hear someone come in, but that’s it. It wasn’t until I heard the sirens and then your voice outside that I started shouting.”
“Hmmm…”
“What?”
“Truthfully, I don’t like the sound of this. We have a victim and someone was in your house without permission, locking you in the attic. How would they know you were up there? Where did they get the two by four?”
“Other than my calling out, they’d have to be watching me, I suppose. As for the wood, that’s stumped me.”
His brow furrowed. “We’ll check for tracks in the morning. Try and get some sleep. Would you like me to stay? I can sleep on the sofa.”
“Would it be terribly sinful of me, if I asked you to stay like right where you are? There’s a comforter on the chair by the window. You could pull it over you. It just feels good to have you nearby.” Lucy felt the heat rise in her cheeks in the darkness. Am I being too forward? I don’t want to scare him off.
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Sure, no problem. Not the kind of night we had planned, is it?”
“No. Are you hungry? Want me to get you something to eat?”
“I’m fine. Unless you’re starving, of course, I could use the rest more than food.”
“Me, too. Night, Brendon. Thank you.”
“You wake me up if you get cold or have a nightmare, you promise?”
“I promise. And Brendon? Thank you for staying.”
“You did notice you didn’t have to twist my arm, right?” He chuckled.
Lucy smiled and then fell silent for a minute until a thought struck her. “Wait! How about Marnie? Has anyone checked on her?”
“Yes, my deputy checked on them both. They were peering out the front window as we all came up the street. They’re fine.”
“Oh, good. Okay, it’s really goodnight from me, this time.”
He kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
14
Daylight brought with it a fresh team of men and women who combed the neighborhood until it was nothing but a mish mash of footprints. Lucy decided to slip next door and sit with Marnie and Winnie for a while. Marnie was preoccupied enough not to mind inviting her in to share a pot of tea. Lucy looked around and could already see that Winnie had managed to make a significant difference to the home. An area had been carved out of the boxes and bags that was large enough for them to sit at the table and chairs without fear of anything falling on them. Someone had laid a doily on the table and they’d placed a vase of slightly faded silk flowers on it. The women sat around the table as it had a great vantage point to what was taking place outside the front window.
“Did you see anyone around that didn’t belong here last night?” Lucy asked, picking up her cup of tea.
Marnie shook her head. “I didn’t notice anyone. Did you, Winnie?”
“No. We were having so much fun dancing, though; I swear a parade could have passed by and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
Lucy inclined her head. “Dancing?”
Marnie’s face lit up. “Yes, it’s our new form of exercise. We just turn the radio up and dance around. I suppose, to an outsider, we’d look silly, but it’s fun. I’ve had to clear two whole walls of boxes out to make enough room to move,” she crowed.
Lucy shot a look at Winnie who offered one of her sweet smiles and a subtle nod. Lucy instinctively knew this was Winnie’s way of breaking through Marnie’s fear. She wanted to say, “Bravo for you,” but held back, not wishing to break the spell.
Marnie rose from her seat and jiggled around in the open space. “I wouldn’t mind doing a little more dancing. How about you, Winnie?”
“You’ve got it, kiddo!” Winnie switched on the radio and the two of them appeared to drift happily into their own entrancing world. Lucy decided to leave the ladies to it; she waved goodbye and quietly left the house, her heart filled with happiness that they were getting on so well.
Outside, she glanced across the street at Sylvia’s house that was now strung up with crime scene tape. Tears formed in her eyes. She decided to go down to Sal’s where she knew everyone would be talking about it.
Lucy stopped in the street to look back at her own house. She and Brendon had talked briefly that morning before he’d left for work, contemplating how
to make her property more secure. The first thing she’d need to do was to stop leaving the door unlocked. That saddened Lucy. The village had always been regarded as a safe community, where people were trusted and many left their homes unsecured during the day.
Brendon seemed to take pleasure in pointing out the obvious that morning. “We get a lot of tourists; amongst them, there could be a few people set on causing mischief. It doesn’t pay to be careless. I’m just saying that if it hadn’t been for my attending the crime scene at Sylvia’s house, you could have possibly died of hypothermia in the attic.”
Lucy had agreed. It had been a sobering thought.
“We’ll discuss it tonight and come up with a plan,” he’d told her. Once again, she was grateful to have Brendon in her life, but sorry his extra attention appeared to be because her life was in peril. There was a chill in the air. She pulled her collar up around her neck to combat the cold. Five minutes later, Lucy noted the number of vehicles in the lot. She opened the door to find Sal’s buzzing. Which wasn’t uncommon when there was local news to discuss.
Lucy grabbed her normal coffee and a pastry, and then wandered through a random collection of discarded chairs before pulling one up to the main table where her group of friends were talking. Each of them acknowledged her with either a nod or a smile.
“Is it true? Did someone try to kill you, too?” Grace asked.
“Oh, nothing so dramatic as that,” Lucy replied, trying to brush away her concern. “Somehow the drop-down attic stairs got pushed up, while I was up there. Probably a mechanical fault, that’s all.”
Then came the firebomb question—naturally, it was Cecilia who delivered it, “Why didn’t you just stomp on it to make it go down?”
“We’re not really sure what happened yet,” she hurriedly explained. It was the excuse she and Brendon had agreed upon. He was being cautious, in case the information got back to someone involved with the guilty party. As long as only he and Lucy, and the intruder, knew that a two by four had been used to block her descent, there was a slim possibility the guilty party would casually mention it.
“Poor Sylvia,” began Jenny. “I don’t know what I’d do if someone broke into my house. All I have is poor Tinkerbell and she would lie in my lap, yapping at an intruder.”
They all dropped their heads, sad about Sylvia’s passing.
After a few minutes’ reflection, Cecilia asked, “Have you thought about getting a roommate?” her tone lacking any form of compassion.
A few of the other women shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Cecilia’s thoughtless comment brought to the surface the very likelihood that Jenny, who was wheelchair bound, might never find the love of her life and would always be forced to live alone.
Lucy didn’t hold back, she glared at Cecilia for being so mean to poor, defenseless Jenny. “It’s only natural to be concerned about intruders.”
“What do you know about Sylvia’s death, Lucy?” Sal asked from behind her. She sat next to Lucy, joining them with a cup of coffee. “Has Brendon told you anything?”
“You know as well as I do that Brendon can’t talk about police work with me. Not when it’s an ongoing investigation, anyway.”
“Can you let us know something when he does?” Sal grinned.
“I’m sure the newspaper will have all the details long before I hear about them.”
“You’re right. Has anyone heard whether there will be a service?” Sal took a sip from her cup.
“No idea,” Lucy replied, shaking her head. With the morbid tone of the conversation, she was beginning to think she would have been better off staying with Marnie and Winnie.
Sal turned and leaned in for a private conversation. “Are you okay? I heard what happened.”
Lucy suppressed her surprise. “Oh?”
“How did the wood get into your hallway? Are you building something?”
“No.”
Sal studied Lucy a while longer before she shrugged and turned away.
Lucy’s stomach clenched. Could Sal have something to do with what happened to me in the attic? How did she know about the wood?
She found that hard to imagine. She and Sal had always been close friends and had never been at odds with one another. Lucy was keen to hear more and was on the verge of asking Sal how she knew about the two by four brace when Sal suddenly stood up and headed for her kitchen to attend to the cookies baking in the oven.
Opportunity missed, Lucy decided that was fate-inspired and stored away her doubts. It was filed away in the part of her brain where she kept track of oddball comments and observations that might later become just the piece she needed to solve a particular problem.
“I guess I’ll head home, ladies,” Lucy announced, her stay overshadowed by the doom and gloom around the table.
“Oh, then we hope to see you later, Lucy. Let us know when you hear something,” bellowed Cecilia when she reached for the door handle to leave.
“I’m sure you’ll be the first to know, Cecilia,” Lucy responded, thinking that Cecilia was generally the first start of any juicy gossip.
With a sigh Lucy left Sal’s and walked down the street. She paused at the entrance to the alley, to let the mail truck go by. She and the postman swapped waves before Lucy pushed her chilled hands into the pockets of her coat and then looked both ways again before she crossed the alley.
Wait. What was that? Lucy stopped dead at the far curb, turned and walked back to look down the alley. She decided to investigate further, and a few heart-thumping steps confirmed her suspicion. There, lying against the back wall of Sal’s Sweets, was a short stack of new two by fours—she counted five of them. The stack closest to the wall seemed to be missing a length of wood, or was it?
Lucy dug into her purse for her phone and snapped a picture. She needed to capture the evidence on film.
15
Lucy set off toward home, her head swimming with nonsensical notions. She drew in deep breaths to try to clear her mind. Her house in sight, she upped her pace and rounded the next corner to be confronted with raised voices coming from outside Marnie’s home.
There, standing on the porch, were Marnie and Winnie, Marnie’s hands gripping the railing as tightly as a sailor would grip a boat’s handrail in a stormy sea. Winnie was cheering, clapping and shouting words of encouragement. Lucy paused and watched them for a while. She could sense Marnie’s triumph at the tiny bit of freedom she had accomplished by venturing onto the porch. It made her heart sing, knowing she had played a small part in her achievement by introducing her to Winnie.
Marnie’s face was alight. Lucy called out and clapped, “I’m so proud of you!”
Startled by the apparent intrusion, Marnie looked around as a shadow of the old fear flashed across her face. Then she spotted Lucy standing at the end of the drive and frantically waved.
“I did it, Lucy. I really did it,” Marnie hollered.
“Yes, you certainly did. This is your new beginning, Marnie. You rock.”
Marnie went back into her house shortly after. Lucy didn’t want to go back in the house just yet; instead, she opened her shed and grabbed the rake. She began clearing icy leaves from her front yard. That’s when she saw them.
The large footprints sunk into the heavy, wet snow that lay below the fluffier layers from a few nights ago. They led over the curb and into the street as though someone had kept to the pavement until they reached her drive and entered her yard. Lucy shuddered as she withdrew her phone from her pocket and shot a picture of them. It was evidence that would soon disappear if the sun came out.
Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Lucy lay her rescued leaves back over the footprints to protect them. Her bare fingers bit into the icy hard snow with granules of road salt, and plow-spun gravel slid beneath her fingernails. Putting away the rake, Lucy opened the front door with her frozen fingers and dumped her coat and boots in the hallway.
With her heart pounding, Lucy ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower to hea
t up as she peeled her clothes off. Seeing the conclusive evidence had unnerved her.
Someone had purposefully come into her house with the intent to harm her, using a deliberate approach that would leave very few clues or evidence. Lucy had to admit that she was more than likely still in danger.
The towel was warm from the bathroom’s steam as she rubbed her skin hard until it turned an even brighter crimson than the hot water had created. An upsurging panic made her want to brush away the evidence—give her back the wholesomeness she’d had before her home had been violated. She was desperate to shake off the tag of being a victim.
Dressing in sweats for their soothing warmth and comfort, Lucy wandered into her office and sat down at her desk. Her phone buzzed. It was Brendon.
“Hi.” She gripped the phone hard to prevent her hand from shaking.
“Are you busy?”
“No, I just got home from Sal’s.”
“How are all the old biddies today?”
“Be kind. They’re good people, even if they’re a little nosy.”
“The FBI could use their version of nosy now and again. But hey, that’s not why I’m calling. I’m off duty soon. I thought I’d grab a pizza and come over. We could use some ‘us’ time.”
Relief flooded Lucy’s mind, lessening the anxiety that was giving her a headache. “I’d love that. I can throw together some kind of dessert.”
“If you like, but I’m bringing a huge pizza. Don’t know if you saw the new restaurant that opened up around the corner from the precinct. Not a local—owner says he’s from the Midwest and drove through the village on vacation one day. Thought he’d like to live here, so he rented that empty space where the candy store used to be and put in pizza ovens. Thought I’d throw some business his way.”