“Don’t tell anyone any more than you have to,” Sam said. “And if you find something, make a copy on a flash drive and bring it to me. Ask them not to destroy their copies; they may be evidence in the commission of a crime.”
“Why hasn’t Scott done any of this?”
“Until the post-mortem report comes back, there’s no reason for him to think a crime was committed,” Sam said. “Right now he’s constrained by official rules and regulations that we don’t want to ask him to circumvent.”
“We’re keeping Scott out of it, then,” Hannah said. “But what if we do discover a crime has been committed? Do we tell him then?”
“This may be too big for him,” he said.
“Do tell.”
“Not right now,” he said. “But do me a favor, and don’t be alone with Ava. And keep an eye on Melissa; I don’t like the direction this thing is headed.”
“Don’t worry,” Hannah said. “Got it and got it.”
“Let me ask you something else.”
“Anything, boss man,” she said. “I’m working for you now.”
“Did you ever hear any gossip about Ava’s daughter and that professor who died a few years ago?”
“Only that Claire thinks Charlotte killed him because he drugged and molested her, and that Ava covered it up,” Hannah said. “Ava and Will shipped her off to boarding school in Europe right afterward. It’s nothing Claire could prove, just circumstantial evidence, but she’s convinced.”
“Does Scott know about that?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah said. “Why do you ask?”
“If you can find out anything more about that, without kicking a hornet’s nest, I mean, I could use that information.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Hannah said. “Any chance you could tell me more.”
“None whatsoever,” he said. “First let’s see how trustworthy you are with what I just gave you.”
“I’ll never go to sleep now,” Hannah said. “My mind is working flat out; I need food.”
She started to get up out of bed, but he caught her around the waist.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “I’ve got an idea how you can burn off some that energy.”
“I’m sure you do, honey,” she said, as she pushed him over onto his back. “I’m sure you do.”
Later that morning, Hannah dropped Sammy off at school, and although she tried not to make eye contact, she was not successful in evading Tucker’s mother, Sue-Lynne, who blocked her exit. Hannah rolled down her window.
“Good morning, Hannah,” Sue-Lynne said. “Do you have a minute?”
Hannah put her truck in park, got out, and said, “Sure, what’s up?”
Sue-Lynn gave Hannah an open up-and-down look of disapproval, her eyes sweeping Hannah’s sweatpants, hiking boots, and Sam’s puffy down jacket.
Hannah crossed her arms and waited.
“I’m chair of the field trip committee,” Sue-Lynne said. “Next month Tucker and Sammy’s class is scheduled to go to DC for a day trip.”
“That permission slip is on the bulletin board in my kitchen,” Hannah said. “I’m sorry I haven’t remembered to bring it in.”
“I was talking to some of the other members of the committee, and we wondered if maybe the amount we are asking parents to cover was going to be too big of a stretch for you and Sam right now.”
“I don’t remember how much it is, but there’s no problem,” Hannah said. “I just have a lot going on right now and forgot to bring it in.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Hannah. I know you just lost your job and that while the work Sam is doing with the injured veterans is laudable, we are aware he doesn’t make any money. If you can’t afford the trip fee, the committee thoroughly understands, and we would be glad to take up a collection on your behalf. No one has to know who it’s for. I wanted to also suggest that you apply to the IWS to have Sammy’s school lunches covered by their charity fund.”
Hannah felt the heat rise in her face, and her body trembled, representing the fight part of the fight-or-flight response being activated.
“I appreciate your offer,” Hannah said, “but Sam and I are fine. We can pay for Sammy’s lunches and the field trip fee. I’ll bring the money and the permission slip when I pick Sammy up this afternoon.”
“I can tell you’re offended,” Sue-Lynn said. “We have only the best intentions, I can assure you. It must be humiliating having to struggle to make ends meet. It’s only by the grace of God that any of us aren’t in the same boat, I’m sure. Please don’t be mad.”
Hannah could feel the hairs rise up on the back of her neck. Her heart rate sped up, and her fingers felt twitchy like they were independently compelled to flick Sue-Lynn on the forehead.
“For me to be offended,” Hannah said. “I would have to give a rat’s ass what you and your concern troll committee think of my family and me. I’m not offended, Sue-Lynne; I’m just tired of it. Tired of you all talking about what losers you think we are, and tired of your son sharing your low opinion of us with my son. If you really want to help my family, Sue-Lynn, you could do that by not gossiping about us to your friends or trashing us in front of your son, and then maybe he wouldn’t report every nasty thing you say to Sammy. That would really help a lot.”
Hannah could feel the heat and pressure building in her chest. She knew she was on the verge of a complete meltdown, and as good as it would feel at the moment to wrestle Sue-Lynn to the ground, hold her arm behind her back and make her cry “Uncle,” she could not do that and still live in this town. There were already several other mothers listening while pretending not to.
Sue-Lynne held her hand to her chest.
“Hannah,” Sue-Lynne said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never do something like that. I’m just not that kind of person.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” Hannah said.
Angry tears stung behind her eyes, but she would be damned if she would let this woman see them. She had to get away before she did something she would regret.
“Clearly, I’ve upset you …” Sue-Lynne began, as she stepped forward and reached out toward Hannah as if she were about to put her hand on her arm.
Hannah stepped back and reached for the truck door handle.
“I’ll bring in the permission slip and money this afternoon,” Hannah said. “I’ll bring cash, and I’ll want a receipt. Are we done here?”
Sue-Lynne let her mask of concern drop and lowered her voice.
“I don’t know why you're acting so ugly to me,” Sue-Lynn said. “We’re only trying to help. Our intentions are only good.”
“Oh, I think you accomplished what you set out to do,” Hannah said. “Now you can go back and report what I said. Be sure to convey to the committee how petty I think you all are, and how little I care what you think of my husband or me. The next time, however, my son reports to me some mean thing your kid heard you say, I’m coming straight for you, and there will be no doubt about my intentions.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m defending my family,” Hannah said. “There’s a world of difference.”
Hannah got back in her truck and made sure to double check the way was clear before she pulled away from the curb. She didn’t want to actually murder any of these nasty witches, even though she felt like it.
Hannah drove straight to the bank but sat parked outside in her truck, still trembling from her encounter with Sue-Lynn. Thinking about the many years that lay ahead, dealing with Sue-Lynn and all the ones like her while she and Sam tried to get Sammy raised and educated without sacrificing every shred of self-esteem he had, made her weary to the bone. It was hard enough going through hard times without a chorus of pretty women dressed in yoga pants reminding you that you didn’t fit in, that you’d failed at some contest you never signed up for.
For herself, she could brush it off, but for Sammy, it wasn’t tolerable.
She. Would. Not. Tolerate. It.
Even if by some miracle she won that lawsuit and they used the money to move into one of those new houses in that subdivision with the gated access. Even if she got a nose job, wore tons of makeup, bought all new clothes and uncomfortable shoes. Even if she carried gigantic purses that cost the same as six months’ worth of groceries. Even if Sam could get along with all the barbecuing husbands, who golfed while their wives played tennis and met for brunch. Even if all that was possible, Hannah knew there would always be something about her that would not fit in, would refuse to, even.
And she didn’t need to fit in, didn’t want to be like them, she just wanted to be treated with respect. Hannah was okay with how she looked and how they lived. Why couldn’t everyone else mind their own business and leave her family alone?
The tears that stung her eyes spilled over, and she rested her forehead against the steering wheel while they dripped off her nose.
There was a tap on the passenger side window. Hannah wiped her face before she looked over. It was Melissa.
“I’m gettin’ in,” Melissa said as she opened the door and climbed in. “What’s wrong? What happened? Whoever did this better watch out, ’cause I’m about to pop open a can of Chattanooga whoop-ass.”
Hannah told Melissa about her exchange with Tucker’s mother.
“That low-life window-licker,” Melissa said. “We had one of them boys in Tommy’s class, too, by the name of Braxton or Brixton, I forget which. What was his mother’s name? Bree Anne? Briar Anne? See? You will eventually forget their stupid names. What a booger out of the old snot-nosed hag that boy was. Tommy never wore the right shoes or had the right labels on his clothes, and old whatsisname never let him forget it.”
“What did you do?”
“I taught my son that you deserve to be proud of what you accomplish and how you treat people, not how much your stuff cost,” she said. “I taught him that if that was all them stupid losers had to be proud of, he should feel sorry for them. He was full of love and goodness when all them kids had was dollar signs where their hearts should be.”
“You’re an awesome mom,” Hannah said. “I gotta try to remember all that.”
“I also used my tips to buy him some shoes that cost as much as a week’s worth of groceries,” Melissa said. “I had a weak moment.”
“You’re the best.”
“Delia and Ian taught me how to be a good mom,” Melissa said. “They raised me right alongside Tommy. I’ll never be able to repay them.”
“We’re lucky,” Hannah said. “If it weren’t for Sean covering our health insurance payments, and Delia letting me work at the Thorn, we would be in dire straits right now. We have no savings, no retirement plan, and the rent Drew pays on the farm out on the ridge is just enough to pay the property taxes and insurance.”
“Would he buy it do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah said. “We own the place where we live now, but honestly, Melissa, unless we win that lawsuit I don’t know how we’ll afford to keep it. And if we sell this farm, then where would we live? With my parents? Fat chance. Besides, Sam can’t live in town; he’d go nuts.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Melissa said. “Don’t worry.”
“I haven’t told anybody else, but Sam got offered a job in Virginia, and as much as I don’t want to leave, we might have to.”
“I sure hope not.”
“It might be nice to live like other people, with a husband who goes to work and a house that doesn’t need a million repairs. Sammy could go to a good school and I could … Well, I guess I could do something.”
“You don’t really wanna leave Rose Hill,” Melissa said. “This is your home.”
“I’m just tired of being the butt of everyone’s jokes,” Hannah said. “I’m sick of living in this fishbowl with all the friggin’ piranhas.”
“Listen, I been looked down on my whole life,” Melissa said. “It’s hard to be proud of yourself when everybody’s telling you nothing you do is good enough. I figured once I went to prison, I couldn’t get no lower on the social pole. When I got out, I had to make a choice. I could hide from everybody, afraid of what they might say, or I could decide what the hell, those em-effers are gonna point and whisper anyway, I might as well make something of myself. I can spit in their eye if they don’t like it.”
“You’re braver than me.”
“Nobody’s braver than you,” Melissa said. “You’re the Masked Mutt-catcher, for gosh-sakes. At some time or another, you’ve helped every person in this gull-dern town, whether or not they had a pot to pee in. Sue-Lynne hasn’t got the guts you’ve got; she hasn’t got the heart you’ve got; she’s just got money. She may be a big fish in this pond, but come on, lady, this ain’t much more than a mud puddle, anyway.”
Hannah teared up again.
“Quit being so nice,” she said, “or I’ll never stop crying.”
“What are you doing today?” Melissa asked her. “How can I help?”
Hannah explained what her assignment was, following up by saying, “You can’t tell anybody.”
Melissa rolled her eyes.
“I’m the best at keeping a secret,” she said. “Don’t you know that by now?”
At the bank, her old friend Amy was only too happy to help Hannah. Her husband, Roger, the lone security guard at this small town bank, took Hannah to his office, showed her how to use the video monitoring software on his desktop PC, and left her to it.
Hannah scanned back to the night of the accident. The camera that was pointed in the direction closest to the crash had a view of the crossroads of Pine Mountain Road and Rose Hill Avenue. Because of the camera angle, she couldn’t see the actual accident site. The camera did pick up the coal truck making a right onto Rose Hill Avenue, heading north, and a few seconds later, the white SUV coming to a stop on the sidewalk in front of Fitzpatrick’s Service Station.
Under the glare of a nearby street light, she could make out Will in the passenger seat and someone else in the driver’s seat. That person, a large man, got out of the driver’s side of the SUV, looked at the side of the vehicle, then got back in, closed the door, and made a U-turn before driving back the way they came.
Hannah backed the video up and replayed it several times. She counted the seconds between when the SUV appeared and then disappeared; it seemed to corroborate with the time recorded by the fire station video camera. There would have been no time to stop at the accident scene on the way out of town.
She went back and stopped on a frame that most clearly showed the man who got out of the SUV. She zoomed in on his face, but the video picture was grainy black and white. She squinted. She got close to the screen. She stood up and backed away from the display to look. She looked away and then quickly looked back. She zoomed the view back out.
There was no doubt in her mind; the driver was Karl, Will and Ava’s security man.
Hannah was fast forwarding the video when she saw something that made her back it up and hit replay. She watched someone exit the alley behind the service station, cross Rose Hill Avenue at a fast walk, and then run down Pine Mountain Road toward the river.
A slight figure, this person wore a dark parka with the hood pulled over the top of their face. As soon as this person passed the newspaper office, he or she was lost in the darkness of the alley. Hannah waited, but no car or SUV appeared, white or otherwise.
Fast forwarding to the night that Ava almost ran over Melissa, Hannah was twice able to see the white SUV approach the intersection and turn north. She zoomed in on the license plate both times and was able to see the letters and numbers. She wrote those down in her notebook.
On the night Melissa’s car was sabotaged, she saw someone dressed in dark clothing leave the alley behind her family’s service station and several minutes later, return the same way. She could not get a good look at this person’s face. The figure was slim; could be male or female.
Han
nah copied all the relevant sections of the video and saved the files to a flash drive she kept on her keychain. On her way out she thanked Amy and Roger and told him it had been beneficial.
“You don’t erase any of those, do you?” she asked.
“At the end of the quarter,” he said. “I was gonna do it this evening.”
“Please don’t,” she said. “We may need it.”
Hannah crossed the street and was passing the diner when someone inside caught her eye. She passed the door, but then slid up next to the building and peeked back through the window. It was Karl, Ava and Will’s security person, sitting in a booth with the woman Terese, whom Delia had been talking to in her backyard. They were intent in conversation, and it looked intense. Now why would those two know each other and what could they be talking about?
Hannah casually entered the diner, turning her head as if she were interested in the specials printed on a chalkboard.
“Sit anywhere,” said a bearded young man with wire-rim glasses who was wearing a three-piece wool suit that looked as if it were sewn in 1879.
Hannah walked oh so casually over to the booth behind the one Terese and Karl were sitting in. Karl had his back to her, and Terese didn’t know her, so although she looked at Hannah, she didn’t seem to recognize her as anyone she knew. When Hannah sat down in the booth, her head was only about six inches from Karl’s. They spoke in low voices, but Hannah’s hearing was excellent.
“We’re so close,” Terese said. “When will they be back?”
“He says they’re playing it by ear,” Karl said. “They may want me to bring the children up to meet them in New York so they can fly straight from there to the UK. I’m stalling over Olivia’s passport.”
“We can’t let her take the children out of the country.”
“I think I can talk them into leaving Ernie and Timmy with their grandmother here in town,” he said. “But Ava won’t go without Olivia.”
“And the nanny?”
Pumpkin Ridge (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 10) Page 20