“I was the good mommy and worthless wife, was I, Jessie? Well, one of the things a good mommy does is baseball practice with her kid. And do you know what? I’m pretty handy with a bat. Listen, you slept with my husband and made a fool of me in front of the whole town, but you’re not going to kill Jack and get away with it. And you’re not going to pin his death on me, you pompous, murdering bitch!”
I was about to beat the crap out of her when I felt a hand grab my ankle. I jumped, and looked down to see Tremaine peering up at me. He was swaying on his hand and knees, one eye half-swollen shut and an angry red mark across his wind pipe. The crazy fool was grinning up at me.
“Never mind, slugger, my money was always on you,” he said.
Bursting into tears, I dropped the bat and collapsed onto the ground beside him. He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. Peering at it with his good eye, he managed to dial “911” and request assistance. With Jessie writhing in the dirt just yards away, he lay down in the dirt beside me, put his head in my lap, and closed his eyes. Sniffling, I stroked his hair and waited for the sirens to come.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
This time I insisted on following Tremaine to Emergency when the ambulances took him and Jessie Wick away. Eddy Mason drove me in the passenger seat of his cruiser with Steve smiling to himself in the back. Once we got to Emergency, I sat on a plastic chair and refused to budge until I heard that Tremaine was okay. I had a burgeoning black eye, a bloody nose, the knee was ripped out of my trousers, and I was covered in dirt. A nurse approached to ask if I needed first aid, but I waved her away.
Of course, injured police and their prisoners get priority treatment in Emergency, so it was only an hour later when Steve joined me with a hot chocolate from the coffee machine. “Here, drink this. You look like you need it,” he said, shoving the insulated cup into my hand and sitting in the empty chair beside me.
I nodded and took a quick gulp, adding a burnt tongue to my list of injuries. “How is he?” I asked.
“He’ll be fine, Anna. They made him drink a lot of water to help get rid of the Temazepam, and he’s sleeping off the rest. He’ll have new bruises over his old ones, but no serious injuries.”
I let that sink in for a blessed minute before asking, “What about Jessie Wick?”
“They’ve taken her up to x-ray. It looks like she has two or three cracked ribs and a broken knee cap – courtesy of you, I understand.”
“Yup,” I replied.
“Nice work. Tremaine said it took a lot of work to bring her down, but that you were up to it.”
I snorted. “So, now what happens?”
“So now you go home and get some sleep, and tomorrow you come into the station to make your statement. Tremaine should be out of the hospital by tomorrow, and he’ll do the rest. Jessie Wick will be charged with kidnapping, attempted murder, and murder, and I don’t think we’ll have any trouble making them stick, especially since she was wearing your ex-husband’s ring and carrying the murder weapon.”
“Plus, she confessed to everything in front of Tremaine, the twit,” I added.
Steve rose to his feet and extended a hand to me. “Come on, Anna, time to go home.”
I took it and got up wearily with aches and pains of my own. He drove me home and walked me up the driveway to the porch. I could hear poor Wendy whining on the other side of the door.
“Hey, Anna,” Steve said, resting his hand on my shoulder, “you did great work tonight. You probably saved Tremaine’s life and put Jessie Wick behind bars for a goodly number of years. Congratulations on a job well done.”
“Thanks Steve,” I said, patting his hand.
A car came zipping down the street and veered into my driveway, nearly sideswiping Steve’s cruiser. Ben jumped out of the car.
“Oops, I forgot to tell you. I called Ben from the hospital,” Steve added. He nodded and wandered off across the lawn while Ben raced toward me.
“Mom!” he shouted, grabbing me and crushing me in his arms. He was shaking. I patted his back and murmured, “It’s over, honey,” again and again. He took hold of my shoulders and stared into my face. “I almost lost you,” he said, the tears welling in his eyes. “Are you crazy? Don’t ever do anything like that again.”
He grabbed me again and didn’t let go. Looking over his shoulder, I saw Betty’s light go on next door. Her front door opened and she stepped outside. Poor woman; the last time I saw her, I had been tearing out of the driveway on my way to save Tremaine. I owed her a big explanation sometime soon. I waved at her with my free arm, and she waved back and disappeared into her house.
“Come on honey, let’s go inside,” I said. “Poor Wendy’s going nuts.” We went into the house and I told Ben everything. An hour later, after a lot of yelling and cursing and crying, I was stretched out on the couch, half comatose, with Ben and Wendy lying on the floor beside me.
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” Ben mumbled. I sighed and opened my eyes to look at him. He looked all wrung out, but then so was I.
“I know, honey, and you’re right. I should have called the police about Tremaine and warned them that Jessie Wick was listening in on the radio, but I wasn’t thinking straight. All I knew was that I had just twenty-five minutes to get to him before he was dead.” I stretched out my hand and Ben took it. We rested our entwined fingers on top of Wendy’s fur. Wendy opened her eyes and licked my arm.
“But I promise you, my detecting days are over. We caught the murderer, so now we’re both off the hook. I’m going to call Grandma Carlene and give her an edited version of what happened to Jack. Try to give that poor woman some peace over her son’s death.”
“I can’t believe how much of this you pieced together on your own, Mom. I guess I wasn’t much help to you, especially with being so angry over the past few days.”
“And I’m still sorry about lying to your father and not telling you about it, honey. In hindsight, I made a terrible mistake, and maybe you paid for it. We’ll never know what was going on inside your father’s head while you were growing up. If only I had talked to Jack about what he was feeling instead of arguing with him all those years.
Ben squeezed my hand. “It wasn’t only you, Mom. I could have talked to Dad instead of being angry all the time. I could have given him a chance.”
“Hey,” I said, “your father could have done some talking, too, right? You know what? Parents make mistakes, even when we have the best of intentions. Maybe one day you’ll have kids of your own, and you’ll wonder what the hell they’re thinking about. Just remember your mistakes and try talking to your kids. As long as we love each other, that’s the best we can do.”
Ben rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, Mom,” in his best, put-upon voice. I wrenched my hand away and swatted at him. He grabbed my hand back and kissed it. “I love you, Mom.”
I squeezed his hand. “I love you too, honey.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I caught a glimpse of Tremaine over the next couple of days as I visited and revisited the station. The swelling had gone down on his eye, but the bruising still made him look pretty disreputable. One time we passed each other in the hallway, and he nodded and walked by me without even saying a word. I wasn’t sure how to interpret his behaviour. What does it mean when a guy’s lying with his head in your lap one minute, and not talking to you the next? I couldn’t figure him out, and despaired of ever doing so.
Saturday morning I awoke feeling at peace with myself. I had called Carlene the night before, and the two of us had had a long talk about Jack’s death and shared some tears over it. I left out the stuff about Jack having affairs with the women on the set, of course, and made it sound as if Jessie Wick was a jealous business partner gone crazy. Carlene felt better, Ben and I were on good terms again, and it was over. Finis. If I never saw Tremaine again, well, that was just the way it was going to be. God speed and good luck to him. Meanwhile, it was spring, and I had all but missed it with the th
reat of the murder investigation hanging over my head.
I decided to spread happiness and good cheer amongst my fellow man and have breakfast at The Diner. I put on a floral summer skirt, a pretty pale blue blouse, and kitten-heeled sandals, gave Wendy a kiss on the top of her furry head, and headed over.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I was surprised to discover a celebration in full swing. Frank was leaning on the counter with his arm wrapped around Judy, talking and laughing with Jeff, Betty, and Erna. They were sitting on stools at the counter and, wonder of wonders, Mr. Andrews was sitting right there beside them. I had never seen him sitting on a stool before, and there wasn’t even a newspaper in sight. Something really important had to be going on. I slid onto the last stool beside him and waited.
Frank noticed me first. “Hi, Anna, how’s it going?” he asked. Five smiling faces turned toward me.
“Good, Frank. What’s happening?”
“Steve, here, just told me the news about Henry Fellows, and I was passing it along to everyone.” Frank pointed over my shoulder and I turned to see Steve eating his supper at one of the tables. He raised his coffee cup in salute.
We all turned back to Frank. “Go on, Frank, tell Anna what happened,” Betty prodded.
“Okay,” Frank said, looking like he was about to burst. “Anna, you know how the police figured it had to be a pick-up truck that rammed Henry’s restaurant – a green truck because they found some green paint rubbed off on one of the wall studs?”
“Right, that’s how I heard it, Frank.”
“Well, the police checked out the vehicles registered to me because Henry had told them that I had been trying to sabotage his business, but no green truck.”
Jeff guffawed loudly and Betty shushed him.
“Then the police started hunting around town looking for a green pick-up, but it’s not a popular colour in Crane, I guess, and they couldn’t find one. After that, they started checking up on people who knew Henry – friends and family members and such – to see if anyone might have had a motive for wanting to hurt him. They found a nephew out in Lloydminster with a green pick-up truck, so they sent a couple of officers out to talk with him. When they discovered that the truck had been damaged in a recent accident, the police got very interested in the nephew.”
“And?” I asked.
“And the nephew caved and confessed to having driven the truck into Henry’s restaurant – but you’ll never guess why.”
Everyone smiled at me in anticipation. “Why, Frank?” I asked, waiting for the punch line.
“Because Henry asked him to do it,” Frank said with a flourish.
I had been sitting on the edge of my stool during his recitation, and sat back on the seat with a thump. “I don’t believe it. Why ever would Henry ask his nephew to drive a truck into his restaurant?”
Frank leaned toward me over the counter. “Because Henry knew that his restaurant wasn’t catching on, and he thought that a take-out window would give him an edge – only he couldn’t afford to have one installed. Then he came up with the brilliant idea of faking the accident and using the insurance money to put in a new drive-through. So his nephew drove out from Lloydminster the night before the accident, took Henry to the restaurant first thing Sunday morning, and then drove around the block and rammed the building. I guess he got a little too enthusiastic because Henry ended up in the hospital, but the nephew claimed it was all Henry’s idea.”
Jeff slapped the counter and chortled while I stared at Frank in amazement. Betty and Erna both grinned at me, and even Mr. Andrews looked amused.
“Frank, I don’t know what to say. That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yep, it’s pretty nuts. Steve came by today to ask if I wanted to press charges against Henry for making false statements about me.”
“What are you going to do, Frank?” I asked.
“Well, Henry’s already charged with insurance fraud, so I decided to take a pass. Besides, I don’t need to spend extra time with police and lawyers, present company excepted Steven.”
“No offence taken,” Steve said, chewing on a mouthful of fries.
“I still think that’s awfully big of you, Frank. Henry tried to ruin you, you know,” Judy said.
“Ah, honey, Henry was real bitter when his bookstore folded, and I think it turned his mind a little when the restaurant wasn’t a success, either. It would probably be best for him to get away from here and start over fresh somewhere else.”
“If they don’t put his ass in jail,” Judy said.
Frank shrugged. “I’ve got no control over that, honey. He did that to himself.” Turning back to me, Frank said, “So we’re having a little celebration now that everything’s cleared up and my good name is restored. I’m treating my friends to steak sandwiches.”
“Throw in some coffee and fries and I’ll be real happy for you, Frank,” Jeff said.
“You’ve got it,” Frank replied, slapping Jeff on the shoulder and heading back to the kitchen. “Judy, pour everyone some coffee, will you, hon?”
With everyone else laughing over Henry’s folly, I joined Steve at his table. He offered me a fry from his plate. “Things have turned out well for you too, Anna,” he said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Yes, they have,” I said, chewing.
He hesitated and then said, “Did you hear that Sergeant Tremaine is leaving tonight?”
I stared at him, my heart leaden despite my earlier resolution to forget about the sergeant. I gulped and said, “I didn’t know.”
“No, I guess no one outside the station knows. I’m sorry, Anna.” I could tell by the sympathetic look in his eyes that he had guessed I had feelings for Tremaine.
I smiled, trying to put a brave face on it. “Oh, that’s okay, Steve. They just brought him in for the investigation, right? It’s not like he was ever going to stay.”
He patted my back while the rest of the gang came over to the table to join us. Erna’s bright eyes caught Steve’s gesture, and I gave her a half smile. She sat down beside me and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
Judy hustled over with a coffee pot and a bottle of apple juice for me. Erna and I clinked our beverages together, Mary delivered our plates, and my friends and I tucked into our food.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I was restless for the remainder of the day. I tried picking up an Agatha Christie mystery, but put it down again after a quarter of an hour. Having lived through the real thing, I knew that a murder investigation isn’t anything like the way it’s depicted in a novel. An amateur doesn’t have the knowhow or the resources to outsmart the police. It had taken a professional to make the breakthrough in Jack’s case. All I had done was flounder around and get in Tremaine’s way. Well, it had been an education, and now the investigation was over and I could get back to my life. Only, my old life didn’t seem so appealing anymore, which was perplexing. I still had everything I had had a month ago, but now it didn’t seem like enough. The thought of work on Monday, once-a-month book club meetings, and take-out suppers with Ben just made me feel depressed. What was wrong with me? By early evening I was toying with the idea of going out for a drive just to get out of the house.
Before I could go anywhere, the doorbell rang. I opened the door and found Tremaine standing there, dressed more casually than I had ever seen him in jeans and a green cotton shirt. It looked really good on him.
“Hi Anna,” he said, looking serious. “I’ve come to say goodbye. I’ve been assigned to a new case in Vancouver, so I’ll be gone until they fly me back for the trial.”
“I know.”
“Let me guess. It’s Saturday. You saw Steve at The Diner.”
“That’s right.”
“That man tells you too much.”
“Don’t pick on him, Tremaine. Steve’s a good friend. I would have gone crazy during the investigation if it hadn’t been for him.”
Tremaine’s eyes
flickered. “May I come in for a moment?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.”
I opened the door wide and Tremaine walked past me into the house. I closed the door and rested my forehead against it, trying to compose myself before facing him. I hadn’t counted on having to say goodbye.
I turned around and bumped into him – he was standing right behind me. One of his arms ensnared my waist, and he pulled me in and kissed me. I stiffened in surprise. Then he backed me against the door and really leaned into it. It was a pretty effective kiss, and I began to react. He released me for a moment and stared into my face, his grey eyes no longer cool. I felt my stomach rock, and then his mouth was back on mine with mounting pressure. I forgot my concern about the disparity in our ages and began to get pretty enthusiastic myself. When his mouth broke free, I discovered that I had welded myself to his body.
“Listen,” he said, breathing raggedly and putting a little space between us, “this next case is going to keep me busy for a couple of months, but then I have some vacation time coming up. If I were to come back to Crane, how would you feel about spending that time with me?”
“You really mean it?” I said, squealing like a teenage girl. It wasn’t my fault. It had been a long time since a desirable man had found me attractive. I was rusty.
“I must be nuts,” he said. “Since being around you, I’ve landed in the hospital twice. I’m usually smarter than that, but when you’re around, I don’t seem to concentrate very well. You’re stubborn and reckless and crazy, Anna Nolan, and I can’t seem to get enough of you. So, can I come back and visit you?”
“Uh huh,” I said, smiling broadly and closing the distance between us.
Framed For Murder (An Anna Nolan Mystery) Page 22