A Killer Halloween: A Mt. Abrams Mystery (The Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 3)

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A Killer Halloween: A Mt. Abrams Mystery (The Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 3) Page 5

by Dee Ernst


  Hmmm…

  “Let me call Sam.”

  I went right to voice mail, so I left a brief message, then went upstairs to finish up some work. My favorite client was publishing a series of shorts, and the schedule was tight. As a freelance editor, the good news was that I didn’t have to answer to anyone but my clients. The bad news was, if I was behind, there was no one to help me out. I was in the zone, so I didn’t hear my cell phone until about the third or fourth ring.

  “Sam? Hi. I have a hypothetical for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Suppose a young man was murdered, and he had associates that were involved in an illegal activity. And suppose you had the opportunity to eavesdrop on someone else questioning one of those associates. Would you consider that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  Silence.

  “And suppose your girlfriend had absolutely nothing to do with the setup, other than owning the house where the questioning was taking place?”

  “Ellie…what?”

  “Doug Richter is bringing Jonah the ice cream man by for a conversation with Cait and Kyle. They’re going to be talking about who Todd owed money to and who might have wanted to kill him because of it. We’ve been invited to sit at the top of the stairs and listen in.”

  “Is ice cream man some kind of euphemism for drug dealer?”

  “Yes. Apparently Jonah is the nice, helpful kind.”

  “We’ve already interviewed several of Todd’s, ah, connections.”

  “Anyone named Jonah?”

  “No. And you swear this is not your idea?”

  I actually pulled the phone away from my ear to stare at it before answering. “You’re kidding, right? Me, sitting down with someone like that?”

  He chuckled. “It’s not a totally outrageous supposition, Ellie, and you know it.”

  “I swear to you, Sam, this was all Cait’s idea. Kyle is Doug’s friend. They want to figure this out.”

  He sighed. “I have some paperwork. I was going to try to get there by nine. Is that good?”

  “Yes. We can talk to the kids about strategy.”

  “We?”

  “Okay. You.”

  He laughed. “Sure.”

  And hung up.

  Because I have a weakness for all things crime/murder/thriller related, I was a huge fan of The Wire when it ran on television. So I naturally expected Jonah to look like Idris Elba. Or maybe I hoped he’d look like Idris Elba.

  Instead, he looked like a young Woody Allen, with more hair. And hipster glasses.

  He and Doug rang my front door bell a little after ten. Sam and I had been having a spirited discussion with Cait and Kyle about drugs in general—what were the most damaging, most addictive, what should be legalized, how drug use should be treated—and it had been quite an education for me. Coming of age in the 70s, I’d tried pot and cocaine, ate a mushroom or two, and even pulled all-nighters during college finals with artificial aid. But as a grown up adult, the occasional hit off someone else’s joint at a party was as wild as I got.

  Cait and Kyle had pretty much the same experience I had, only they couldn’t understand why, in this day and age, pot was still illegal. Sam had lots of facts and figures, but in the end, he couldn’t understand it either.

  The problem was that Todd’s relationship with marijuana hadn’t been the problem. It was the prescription painkillers that got him hooked.

  “Really?” I said, looking at Cait. “What is wrong with people? I mean, there are no happy endings with that stuff. Everybody knows that.”

  Kyle shrugged. “Todd had been on and off the stuff since high school. And that’s as long as Doug’s been trying to get him clean. A couple of stints in rehab…it’s tough. It was tough. Now, it’s over.”

  Sam settled back in the couch, his arm around my shoulders. “It must have been a great relief, then,” he said.

  Kyle stiffened a little. “Doug would have kept on trying. He never would have given up.”

  “And what about Steve?” I asked. “How did he feel about his stepson’s ah…problem?”

  Kyle looked over at Cait, frowning, as though trying to figure out what to say next. “It wasn’t good. Steve wasn’t very supportive. I think it caused a real problem with Kim.”

  Sam glanced at me. “Ellie?”

  “I’m sure you’ve interviewed Steve already,” I said.

  Sam nodded. “Yes. He said he walked up to Emma’s around six-thirty to see if Todd needed any help. Todd was gone already, so he just turned around and walked back down.” He shifted his weight. “We’re looking at him. We’re looking at everyone.”

  On cue, Doug and Jonah arrived.

  Doug looked pale and exhausted. Jonah looked like he was always picked last for volleyball in school.

  “Ellie, thanks so much for this,” Doug said as he grabbed my hand. “Really. This is Jonah. He said he’d help.”

  Jonah ignored me and was staring at Sam, who looked innocent enough in khakis and a rugby shirt, but there must have been a cop vibe coming from somewhere.

  “Why is he here?” Jonah asked the room at large.

  “He’s my boyfriend. We were just going upstairs, so you guys can talk privately.” I smiled at Jonah. “But can I get you something to drink first?” I almost offered chocolate milk.

  Jonah shook his head and actually wrung his hands. As many times as I’d read that in a book, I’d never seen a person do that in real life.

  “As long as I’m guaranteed immunity, he can stay. In fact, maybe it’s better that he’s here. I wouldn’t want anything I say to be repeated incorrectly.”

  Sam stood up. He was a large man, but next to Jonah, he looked like Hagrid from the Harry Potter movies. “I’d be happy to hear what you have to say in a completely unofficial capacity.”

  Jonah nodded. “Excellent. In that case, a little red wine would be nice. Maybe a nice Pinot?”

  Cait nodded. “Sure. Anyone else?”

  We all sat down, arranging ourselves around the fireplace, which by now had a small but happy fire blazing away. Boot came shuffling down the stairs, barked a few times for show, then jumped up on the couch next to me. She curled up, her head on my lap, and promptly fell asleep.

  Jonah eyed her skeptically. “That’s one ferocious watchdog you’ve got there.”

  I scratched Boot behind her left ear. “It’s past her bedtime,” I explained. “If this were ten in the morning, she’d be all over you.”

  “Good to know. Oh, thanks, Cait.” Jonah reached for his glass of wine, sipped, and nodded. “Good. Now, what do you want to know about Todd?”

  I clenched my jaw. After all, I was out of this, right? I raised my eyebrows at Cait, who took a deep breath before starting.

  “We need to know who Todd owed money to, and for what, and who might have wanted him dead,” she said.

  Jonah pursed his lips. “He was into me for about five grand, and you know that what I sell is rated PG.” He shifted toward Sam. “I deal mainly in marijuana. A little hashish, maybe some oxy, but mostly pot. It’s just a matter of time before it’s legalized in this state, and I’m trying to build a reliable client base.”

  Sam nodded. “Sound thinking.”

  “Exactly. Which is why I handle distribution myself. Too many middlemen will only hurt me down the line. I’m not trying to be greedy. I’m just trying to maintain a nice lifestyle while putting away a little something every month so that, when the time comes, I can go wide. Kiosks. I’m thinking at least one in every mall in the state.”

  Kyle grinned. “Great plan, Jonah. Seriously.”

  Jonah looked modest. “It’s been a dream. Now, back to Todd.” He turned in his chair. “Dougie, I love you like a brother, you know that. But Todd was in serious shit with very bad people.” Jonah glanced at Sam. “I won’t mention names. But—December, 2013.”

  Sam’s eyes flickered. “Really?”

  Jonah nodded, then refocused on Doug. “These are the kinds of people that
kill for fun. But a ball peen hammer is not their preferred MO. In fact, a rather large handgun at close range is how it usually goes.”

  “But, Jonah,” Kyle interrupted. “It was early evening. There were tons of people around. Would they risk someone hearing the gunshot?”

  Jonah sat back and shook his head. “Are you kidding? These guys wouldn’t care if it was the middle of Bloomingdale’s at lunchtime.” He drank some wine. “I’d like to help you, but if you’re thinking this was a drug-related killing, you’re barking up the wrong tree. This was personal.” He glanced at Doug. “Maybe you were right? About that girl?”

  “What girl?” Cait pounced.

  Doug looked thoughtful. “He hadn’t mentioned her in weeks.”

  “What girl?” Cait asked louder.

  Doug ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair. “Todd was seeing her, sleeping with her, whatever. Eve somebody. She told him she was pregnant, and he dumped her. Insisted it wasn’t his. She was…angry.”

  “Did you tell the police about this girl?” Sam asked.

  Doug shook his head. “No. I’d actually forgotten about her.”

  Kyle leaned forward. “What do you know?”

  Jonah pushed his glasses up off his face and into his curly dark hair. “She’s a junkie. Todd had every reason to doubt her claim. She turns tricks on the weekend, waits tables during the week in a pizza place in Montclair. She shouldn’t be hard to find.” He drained his wine and set the empty glass on the coffee table, wiped his face with both hands, and then put his glasses back in place. “Nice meeting you,” he said to Sam and me. “I hope this was helpful,” he said to Cait. He stood up, nodded to Doug, and walked out.

  “Interesting character,” Sam murmured.

  Doug stood up as well. “Anything helpful?”

  Kyle nodded. “Yes, well, the drug thing looks to be off the table, but Eve is a possibility, right, Sam? A strung out, pissed off girl could have done it easily, right?”

  I looked at Sam. “But where would she get a hammer?”

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  “But you’re not sure it was a hammer,” Doug protested.

  Sam shrugged. “We’re pretty sure.”

  Kyle stood, kissed Cait on the lips, and then waved. “I’ll take Doug home. Thanks, guys.”

  They left. I rearranged Boot, so I could lean against Sam. “Well?”

  “This is complicated,” he said softly. I could feel his lips in my hair.

  Cait stood. I heard her say good night. I closed my eyes and snuggled in closer.

  “Where would anyone get a hammer?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Sam said.

  Shelly Goodwin sometimes went to church on Sunday mornings. I did not. I’d offered to take both of my girls to church, and a younger Cait took full advantage. Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, Unitarian—she sampled them all. Then Buddhism and Islam. Judaism. She dabbled in Paganism. She settled on nothing, but she really tried.

  Tessa went to church with Marc on the big days—Christmas and Easter. She was not at all curious, which was fine with me, because I liked spending Sunday mornings on the couch surrounded by coffee and The New York Times.

  When Shelly came by, she wasn’t in church clothes. She was in sweats and sneakers and looked like she hadn’t slept. She grabbed some coffee and pushed the newspaper to the floor.

  “First, tell me about the drug dealer.”

  I settled back. “He looked like a sixteen-year-old nerd. And not the sexy kind, the pocket-protector kind. He has a business plan and is putting aside a little something every month. He’ll probably have the first pot-selling franchise in New Jersey.”

  She snorted. “So, he didn’t arrive with a scary-looking posse?”

  “Nope. And he pretty much took all the other drug dealers out of the picture. Apparently, no self-respecting drug kingpin’s hit man uses a hammer.”

  “So we’re back to no suspects?”

  “No. Doug mentioned Todd’s old girlfriend.” I told her about Eve.

  “So, we have to go to Montclair and eat pizza,” Shelly said. “We could do that.”

  “You could do that,” I said. “Remember?”

  “Of course.” She took a deep breath. “Listen, I have something to tell you.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Mike and I are splitting up.”

  I stared. I felt like someone had hit me in the stomach. Hard. “What?”

  She took a long gulp of coffee. “You know we’ve been having problems.”

  “Wait a minute. You told me, like, a few weeks ago that you were arguing, but that’s marriage. That’s not problems.”

  Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “It’s gotten bad. Suddenly. And it’s my fault.”

  I shook my head. “No, Shel, don’t say that. It takes two people to break up.”

  “No. It’s me. I…”

  I leaned forward and gently took the mug out of her hands and placed it on the table. “What?”

  “I think I’m in love with somebody else.”

  I felt something wash over me. Anger? Disappointment? Regret? She was in love with someone else? “Shel, you’re married. How do you fall in love with somebody else?”

  “All at once, like falling off a cliff.” She wiped the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. We just started talking one day, and everything just clicked in my head, and I hadn’t felt so happy in, like, years, and all I wanted to do was spend more and more time with him, and before I realized what was even happening, it was too late. I’ve never felt this way, Ellie. Never about Mike, even when we were first in love. This is…overwhelming. When I’m not with him, I’m miserable. When I am, I’m so happy I can’t even breathe.”

  Her words tumbled out in a rush. I closed my eyes tightly. What was I supposed to say to her? My best friend, who was walking away from over twenty years of marriage to a good, honest man, with whom she had two boys and built a home and a life. For what? “Shelly, maybe if you and Mike saw someone?”

  She sniffed and shook her head. “Wait.”

  She got up, went to the downstairs bathroom, where I heard her blow her nose. Several times. I stared out the window and remembered all the things she had said to me when Marc and I were splitting up. But that was Marc walking out, not because of another person, but because the two of us had grown so far apart that we couldn’t stand being in the same room together anymore. We had both been so unhappy. I hadn’t wanted Marc to leave, and had been devastated when he finally did walk out, but there had also been a sense of relief.

  Shelly and Mike were a completely different story, and I could find very little to relate to. Or sympathize with. Shelly was leaving her husband for another man. That was hard for me to support.

  She came back out and sat. “This is so hard. It’s finding out that every single thing I believed about my life isn’t true anymore. I’m miserable about this. I don’t want to hurt Mike. He’s my best friend. But Jamie—”

  “Who?”

  She looked right at me. “Jamie. Fergus.”

  “Jamie Fergus as in James Fergus who’s renting the house on Davis? Are you kidding me?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, you can stop worrying about what’s going to happen, because Vivian is going to kill you when she finds out.”

  She cracked a smile. “She knows. Jamie told her all about us.”

  I slumped back against the cushions. “He’s only lived here a couple of months. How long has this been going on?”

  She made a face. “Four weeks?”

  “You’re going to throw away an entire life after just four weeks? My God, Shelly, really?”

  “I know,” she wailed, and burst into tears.

  I put my arms around her and let her cry, trying to figure out what to do and say next.

  I kept reminding myself this was the real world. I spent most of my time reading books, and in books, things like this ended either in a blo
ody murder or happily ever after. While I couldn’t see any actual blood being spilt, I also could not imagine everyone shaking hands and agreeing to play nice. Mike loved Shelly, adored his boys, and must have felt like the world had been jerked out from under him. And Shelly…what the hell was she thinking?

  “Have you slept with him?” It kind of just came out.

  She shook her head violently against my shoulder. “No. I would never do that. I’m married!”

  “Well, that’s good, anyway. You need more tissues.” I pushed Shelly gently away and went to the bathroom for the box of tissues. I also quickly texted Viv a simple HELP.

  “Here. Blow some more,” I said when I sat back down. Shelly nodded obediently and blew her nose, wiped tears, blew again and finally took a long, deep breath.

  “Better. Thank you.” She had the tissues gripped tightly in her hands. “You think I’m a terrible person, and I should be shot, don’t you?”

  “You are one of the best people I know. I just don’t think you’re seeing this very clearly. You don’t know him, Shelly. How can you be so in love with a man who you haven’t spent any time with? I mean, granted, he looks great in a kilt. And if this were a Sarah MacLean book, that would be enough. But you’ve got a real life here, honey, and you’re putting everything at risk.”

  She carefully put the tissues on the table. “I know. It’s so crazy. I haven’t slept in days. I felt so guilty I couldn’t even look at Mike. I finally told him everything last night, and he’s so upset. He says he’s willing to move out temporarily and let me decide, but he will only do that if I agree not to see Jamie.”

  “That is very generous of him.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, that’s Mike all right. He’s such a good guy, but I don’t know how I’m going to stay with him after meeting Jamie. It’s like living in a cozy valley, and you think you’re fine and safe, and you are, you really are. Then one day someone leads you up to the top of the mountain and you realize there’s a whole other world, and it’s grand and beautiful, and the fresh air fills you up, and you’re feeling things for the first time. After that, how do you go back down to the valley?”

 

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