by Dee Ernst
He shook his head. “We talked to a lot of people, Ellie. No one saw Mr. Scarecrow without that mask on.”
“Yes, but you’re the police.”
He was silent, and his hands were making their way under my T-shirt. “And you’re not?” He said at last.
“What can it hurt?” I began unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Doug thinks he’s in the clear. It’s not like he’ll even know what I’m doing. I will not be in any danger.” I leaned forward and kissed the v-shaped patch of skin at the base of his throat.
“I suppose,” he said, kissing me right behind my left ear.
“I can just talk to a few people.” His shirt was unbuttoned, and I ran my fingers down the center of his chest.
“Fine. Focus on the sliver of time when the two of them were together,” he murmured, pulling my T-shirt up over my head.
“Who knew brainstorming a murder could be so sexy?” I asked.
He grinned.
Then we stopped talking altogether.
Chapter 8
I told Shelly and Carol my plan the next morning. Shelly was so excited that she started running in tiny circles.
“Doug? Oh, my God. Ellie, you’re amazing.” She was bouncing, her short ponytail bobbing up and down.
“That’s so awful,” Carol said. “But it makes sense. I thought Mr. Scarecrow changed up his act because he was just getting tired of the magic tricks. The voices were so similar, there’s no way I would have said they were two different people.”
“Well, to be honest, my idea could be all smoke and mirrors. Maybe Steve Wyzinski was tired of his wife putting up with Todd. Maybe Steve did kill him. But it doesn’t feel right. And Doug spent so much time and energy accusing other people, you know?” I shivered. Why didn’t I ever think of gloves?
Carol nodded. “Todd and Doug were dressed almost the same. Well, jeans and a denim shirt. Maybe there were differences, but none that I could see. They both had on work boots. Todd had a T-shirt on under his denim shirt, I do remember that. But when he pulled his mask on, it came down to the middle of his chest with all that straw sticking out, so there was no way of noticing if Mr. Scarecrow Number 2 was also wearing a T-shirt. And then there were those ridiculous glasses that he wore over the mask, and the hat, and the gloves…it could have been any tall, skinny guy under there, Ellie. How are we to prove anything?”
Shelly was now jogging circles around Carol and I. Buster was dragging his feet a little, and Boot was trying to follow.
“Shelly, stop that. We’re getting all tied up here.” My cell phone made a noise, and I pulled it out. “It’s Lynn. I texted her the other day to see if she saw Mr. Scarecrow. We should talk to her?”
Shelly untangled Buster’s leash. “Yes. For sure. We can get her on the way back.”
“Okay,” I said, and texted Lynn back.
Lynn Fahey was giving Mary Rose a run for her money for the Most Involved Mt. Abrams Volunteer award. There wasn’t a real award, of course, but you wouldn’t know it to watch the two of them go toe to toe in the Let Me Do It department. Lynn had her age working against her. Mary Rose had quite simply been doing it longer. But Lynn firmly believed she had a fighting chance.
Today, Lynn’s long hair was coiled on top of her head, and she was wearing a long denim skirt, Birkenstocks with argyle socks, and a Fair Isle sweater. As early as it was, her house smelled like vanilla and sugar.
“Are you baking?” I asked as Shelly and I came in. We had dropped off the dogs and left Carol to get ready for work. Shelly, I knew, didn’t have to be at work until later.
“Just some shortbread,” Lynn explained. “Can I get you some? With tea?”
My mouth was watering, but I shook my head. “No, thanks. I just wanted to ask you about Halloween. Were you walking the kids around, or giving out candy? Did you by any chance see Mr. Scarecrow at all?”
She nodded. “Sure, I saw him. He was practically running all the way down the hill. I was worried he was going to trip and roll all the way to Route 51.”
“Did he still have his mask on?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, and I thought it was pretty strange. It had to be itchy, right? With all that straw and stuff?”
Shelly sighed. “Yes. Well, that’s that.”
“What are you looking for?” Lynn asked.
I glanced at Shelly. I did not want anyone to know I was still poking around in this. If it got back to Mary Rose, she would hound me to death. And if it somehow got back to Doug…
“Just curious. His car was parked in the lower lot. Did you see where he cut over?”
She nodded. “At the Carson driveway, three houses down. Come on, what’s going on?”
“They arrested Mary Rose’s brother,” I told her.
Lynn’s jaw dropped. “Oh, how terrible. When?”
“Yesterday. I’m trying to prove a theory, but I’m not having much luck,” I started for the door. “Thanks, Lynn.”
“Go down and talk to Heather,” Lynn said. “She’s home now, and I know she was home Halloween. Her husband took the kids, and she gave out candy.”
I thanked her, and Shelly and I left. We walked out to the middle of Carver Road. Shelly looked down the street.
“We’re here,” she said. “We may as well.”
I nodded. “Do you know Heather?”
“Well enough. Let’s go.”
Three houses down was a tiny Cape Cod with a bright red door. We rang the bell. A dog barked, and seconds later, a baby started screaming. Shelly and I exchanged looks.
The door opened, and a disheveled young woman in a flannel shirt and leggings stood there, holding a little boy who looked about three and was howling, his baby face red with anger or frustration.
“Yes?”
“This looks like a bad time,” Shelly said quickly.
Heather Carson made a face. “It’s always a bad time. Come in.”
The living room was decorated with a couch, two over-stuffed chairs, a flat-screen television, and the entire Fisher-Price section of Toys R Us. Heather set down the toddler, who immediately threw himself on the floor and cried even harder.
“That’s Dylan. He wants to paint the dog green,” she explained. “It’s an ongoing issue. This way.”
The kitchen was neater and quieter. She sank into a chair and a small, furry dog immediately jumped in her lap, whining. “Hi, Shelly. And you’re Ellie Rocca, right? You’re kind of famous around here,” she said.
“Ah, oh. Well.” Really?
“So, what’s up?” Heather looked about thirty, pretty, and exhausted.
“About Halloween night,” Shelly said. “You were home?”
She nodded.
“Did you see Mr. Scarecrow?”
She nodded again. “Gizmo here went ballistic.” She hugged the dog. “I looked out, and he was coming up my drive. Lots of folks do. The parking lot is just behind me. We’re used to people taking the shortcut.”
I took a breath. “Did he have his mask on?”
“No. In fact, he must have just taken it off, because he was stuffing it into this canvas bag he was carrying.”
Shelly made a squeaking noise.
Heather grinned. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Did you see his face?” I asked.
“Well, I guess I did, but nothing really registered. I mean, it was getting dark, and he was moving pretty fast.”
Shelly sighed. “Thanks, Heather. We were just…fishing around.”
We walked back through the living room. The screaming had abated somewhat, but there was still a great deal of kicking going on. Heather let us out, and we walked up her drive, across her small back yard. From there, we could see across an empty lot to the parking area.
“So, I guess Sam questioned everybody and his brother about who saw what down here Halloween night, right?” Shelly asked.
“Yep. Nobody saw anything.”
“So, who else can we talk to?”
“I do
n’t know. Maybe James?”
She turned deep red. “Why?”
“Because he was up here at the time when Doug became Mr. Scarecrow. He may have noticed something.” I glanced at her. “What’s going on there?”
She stuck her hands in her pockets, and we started walking back up the hill. “Mike has found a place. He’s moving out this weekend.”
“Do the boys know?”
She nodded. “It was…bad.”
“And you’re still sure this is the right thing to do?”
She shook her head. “No. Not at all. I only know that if I don’t at least try to see what my life would be like with Jamie, I’ll never forgive myself.” Her voice was tight.
“Want to come with me now?”
She cleared her throat. “No. I have to get ready for work. But he’s home today. Go ahead and talk to him.”
We walked up Morris. Shelly veered off to her house, and I went on up to Davis Road.
He invited me in. “Coffee? I just brewed some.”
Brewed? People still brewed coffee? In the age of Keurig? “Sure. Thanks.”
He took my jacket. I was dressed in jeans and a faded LBI sweatshirt. If I had known I’d be having coffee with James, I would have seriously rethought my morning walking outfit.
When Kate Fisher had lived in the little rental house on Davis Road, it had been furnished with pastels, chintz, and potted ferns. James had taken a very different approach. The walls were a deep, rich blue, the trim a glossy white, and there were English hunting prints in elaborate frames on the walls. Decidedly masculine. Very attractive. Just like James.
I sat in his dining room, and he brought out a French press coffee pot on a tray with mugs, cream, and sugar. He poured, and we stirred and sipped in silence.
“Are you here about Shelly?” He asked.
“No. I’m not. But if you’d care to talk, I’m happy to listen.”
He tapped the fingers of his left hand against the mahogany of the tabletop. “I’m completely…smitten,” he said. “I haven’t felt this way in thirty years, since I was a kid. I feel awful. She’s willing to break up her marriage for me. I’ve got nothing to lose here, and everything to gain.” He had been staring down into his mug. When he lifted his eyes, they were filled with tears. “I can’t believe two people falling in love can cause so much pain.”
“Oh, James. I’m so sorry for you both. And, well, I’m happy too. I mean, happy you’re in love and all that, but…”
He nodded. “I know. Vivian says I should be grateful for the gift and let the rest roll away.”
“Vivian? My Viv? Wow, that’s pretty enlightened for Viv.”
He cracked a smile. “She and I have had a few discussions. She’s become a good friend.”
“Well, you are very lucky to have her on your side. Believe me, that is one person you do not want for an enemy.”
“I hear you. So, what’s this all about?”
I took a drink of coffee. It was delicious. “About Halloween.”
“Ah.” He sat back. “Okay. What can I tell you?”
“Everything that happened when you got to Emma’s.”
He pushed away his mug and laced his fingers together. “Emma and Carol were in the garden, and there were a few kids there as well. Emma was serving them doughnuts, and Carol was talking to a few of the parents there. I came into the garden, and Carol came up and asked me if I’d seen Mr. Scarecrow. I said no, and asked her which way he had gone. Now, if you’re in the garden, all you can see is which way someone turned when they left, up or down the hill. Carol said up the hill, so I went back out and he was standing right there. I asked him if he was okay, and he said yes. He saw the kids and immediately went into character, talking in a kind of funny voice, hopping around. He had everyone singing in like two minutes.”
“So, he had his mask on?”
“Yes. And his hat. And those silly glasses. He was having trouble with gloves, though.”
“Gloves?”
“Yes. Like they were too small.”
Something in my brain clicked. This was important. Why? “Did you notice his tattoos?”
“What tattoos?”
I thought hard. Todd’s hands, his wrists. “Was there an arrow coming down from his wrist, ending in the middle on his hand?”
James shook his head. “No, and I probably would have noticed.”
“Did he get the gloves on?”
“Eventually. We had a few photo ops first, then he got them on. It seemed strange that they were so tight.”
“Because his hands were bigger,” I said, half to myself. “How the heck am I going to prove that?”
“Prove what?”
“James, it wasn’t Todd you were with. It was Doug. Todd was already dead, right next door.”
He raised both eyebrows. “What?”
“Todd had very distinctive tattoos on his arms and wrists. Doug didn’t. Now, how to prove it?”
“At least three different people were taking pictures and videos. Maybe one of them?”
“You’re brilliant! Of course. Do you know who any of those people were?”
“Well, Carol for one. I’m sure she’d know who the others were.”
I got up, went over to him, and kissed him in the middle of his forehead. “Truly brilliant. Wait until I tell Sam. Thank you, James.”
I grabbed my jacket and bolted out the door. I was at the library in under three minutes.
Carol took one look at my face and motioned me into her tiny office.
“What’s wrong?”
“Remember you said you took a picture of James? Did you take one with him and Mr. Scarecrow?”
“Ellie, is this relevant to anything at all?”
“Yes. Do you have the pictures?”
“Of course.” She pulled her purse out of her desk and found her phone. She spent a minute flicking through the photos before she handed it to me. “There. Is this what you need?”
It was a picture of James and Mr. Scarecrow. James photographed very well. Mr. Scarecrow looked…scarecrow-ish. I could not see his hands. I swiped. The next picture was James alone, with his head turned, looking to the left. Swipe. James alone. Laughing. Swipe.
Mr. Scarecrow, reaching up to adjust his hat. The sleeve of his denim shirt was pulled back. His wrist and forearm were bare.
“Bingo,” I whispered. The date and timestamp were across the bottom. I sent the picture to Sam with a simple message.
No tattoo.
Then I sent copies to my business e-mail, my phone, and my personal e-mail. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust technology; it was just that I didn’t trust me with technology.
I handed Carol back her phone. “We just solved this case,” I told her.
She smiled. “Ellie, dear, was there ever any doubt?”
Now, there was only one more person to see.
Mary Rose was not at home, so I texted her to call me whenever she could, and trudged back home. I was freezing, so I made a cup of tea and started a fire in the fireplace. Boot, seizing the opportunity, made a nest for herself under the throw in the corner of the couch, her butt pressed firmly against my side. I kept staring at my phone. Surely, Sam would call, congratulating me on my expert detection technique. Or Mary Rose, so I could tell her the good news/bad news about Todd’s death. I tried to imagine myself in Kim’s shoes, but couldn’t.
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep, but Boot was barking and someone was knocking steadily on my door. I scrambled up from the couch and threw open the front door. There stood Mary Rose and Kim Wyzinski.
And Doug was right behind them.
“Ellie, I got your text. What did you find out?”
I stepped back, and the three of them came in. Kim looked completely done in. Doug seemed nervous, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. He walked over to the fireplace and stood with his back to the flames.
“Listen, I was in the middle of a phone call to one of my authors,” I babbled.
I have always been a terrible liar. I snatched up my phone. “Let me just finish up, okay?”
I scurried up the stairs, calling Sam as I did.
“Ellie, I got your picture. We’re discussing a warrant right now.”
“Sam, Doug is here. With Mary Rose and Kim. What should I do?”
Sam swore. Loudly and for what seemed to be a long time. Finally, he said, “I’m on my way.”
I walked slowly back down stairs.
Doug was still there by the fireplace. Mary Rose was on the couch, scratching Boot’s ears. “Well?” she asked.
How to stall. “Were you all at the jail?”
Kim, sitting next to Mary Rose, shook her head. “No. We’ve been talking to the lawyer. He says the evidence isn’t all that strong.” She was wearing a short red jacket. Her hands stayed in her pockets, and she was rocking back and forth. “It’s a lot of money. But he thinks he can get Steve off.” Her voice was soft and broken.
“That’s good, right?” I said. I edged my way around the couch.
“It would be better if we could just find out who really did this,” Mary Rose said. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Nothing. I mean, I’d been asking around to see if I could find anyone who saw Todd before or after he met Doug.”
Doug’s head swiveled, and he stared at me.
“Just to see if anyone saw who it was that Todd met, that’s all,” I said in a rush.
“The police already did that,” Doug said in a hushed voice. “They couldn’t find anyone. Could you?”
“No. Nope.”
“Then why did you text me, Ellie? You made it sound as though you found out something important.” Mary Rose stood and brushed a stray dog hair off her coat. “I was hoping at least you found out who made that call to the police about the hammer. If we knew that, we’d know who the real killer is.”
“An anonymous call is just that,” Doug said. “We’ll never know who made it.”
“Don’t be too certain,” Mary Rose said smugly. “Ellie has a way of finding out all sorts of things.”
Doug had been watching me. He stepped away from the fireplace. “What sort of things?” he asked softly.
He knew that I knew. What would he do with his mother and Mary Rose in the same room? Nothing. I was sure of it.