Paper-Thin Alibi

by Mary Ellen Hughes

  Meg stood up, slipping the strap of her large handbag onto her shoulder, and walked to the window. She stared out at the rain, her back to Jo. The water ran down the outside of the window in jagged rivulets, and Meg put her finger up to the glass to trace the path of one. “I don’t want Kevin to get better,” she said, her voice taking on a distant tone.

  “Meg, you can’t let him die.”

  “I should never have married him. It’s his own fault, talking me into it. He should have known I would always love Pat.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to die for that. What did you give him, Meg?”

  Meg turned to face Jo, tears running down her face. “Why should he live when my life is over?”

  “Your life isn’t over.”

  “It is, Jo. All I wanted was to be with Pat. Was that so much to ask for? I did everyone a favor getting rid of Linda. You know I did. But now they’ll want to punish me for it. I deserve to be thanked, but instead they’ll keep me from Pat. After I’ve waited so long.”

  What could Jo say to that? Of course Meg would go to prison for murdering Linda, and of course her hopes of living happily ever after with her first love had never had a chance. But there was still the man who was fighting for his life in the ICU to think about. How could Jo get Meg to think about him? To care about him before it was too late?

  Jo stood up, thinking only of talking reason to Meg, when Meg suddenly reached into her bag. She pulled out a gun and pointed it at Jo.

  “Stay back, Jo!”

  Jo froze. “Meg, what are you doing?”

  “Don’t come near me, Jo. I’ll shoot you if I have to. But I don’t want to. I want to kill myself. And I will, so don’t try to stop me. I’ll shoot anyone who tries to stop me.”

  “Meg, this is insane.”

  “Is it? Would you want to live if you were me?”

  Meg had begun waving the gun, gesticulating with it. Jo’s first thought was that it could go off any time. What if someone else came into the room? Jo could try to overpower Meg, but what were the odds she could take the gun from her without it going off in the process? She suddenly thought of Russ, whose room was right down the hall. If he heard a gunshot he’d know right away what it was and his policeman’s instincts would kick in, making him act. But he was in no condition to do so, and who knew what might result from that? Jo had to calm Meg down, to keep her from firing that gun. But how?

  “Meg,” she said, thinking rapidly, “it’s not too late.”

  Meg stared. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you can still be with Patrick.”

  Meg continued to stare, but Jo thought she saw a glimmer of hope flit through her eyes.

  “He’s probably been thinking of you all these years, too, you know. But he doesn’t even know you’re here. Think how devastated he’ll be if he finds out how close you were all this time.”

  Meg eyes softened for a moment, but then flashed angrily at Jo. “You wouldn’t let me go to him. You’d call the police the minute I left here.”

  “I wouldn’t, Meg. But just to be sure you can take me with you. I’ll drive you to Patrick.”

  Meg appeared to think that over, her desire to be with her lost love possibly overwhelming whatever sense of logic and reality remained. “If you tried to do anything on our way out, I would shoot you, Jo.”

  “I know, and don’t worry. I won’t. I want you and Patrick to be together. I know what it’s like to lose someone you’ve loved. I want you to get him back, Meg.”

  Meg still hesitated, but then nodded. “You walk beside me, Jo. We’ll go to my car, but you’ll drive. If I see you try to signal anyone I promise I will shoot – first you, then them, and then myself.”

  “Understood. But it will be all right. Just let me get my jacket.”

  Meg nodded, watching sharply as Jo stepped back to grab her jacket and then her purse. Meg moved up beside her and slipped her gun just inside her own pocketbook. “I have my finger on the trigger, Jo,” she said, and nudged Jo to begin walking slightly ahead of her, heading out of the room and toward the stairwell. Jo found herself breathing easier the farther they got from Russ, the nursing staff, and all the innocent patients and visitors that wandered the halls.

  Though her own legs trembled.

  CHAPTER 29

  It amazed Jo, at first, how few people took any notice of them – two women whose strained expressions alone should have signaled that something very wrong was going on. But she reminded herself that hospitals were full of crises, although of a very different sort, and that everyone they passed must have had stresses of their own to deal with. They therefore left Jo and Meg to their own.

  The progress of the two of them, once they’d left the building should also, it seemed, have struck anyone watching as suspiciously odd – walking, not running through the pouring rain. But apparently no one watched, and the two of them reached Meg’s car unchallenged

  Once in the car’s passenger seat, Meg heaved a relieved sigh. She pulled the gun she’d been holding, out of her pocketbook and rested it on her lap, in plain view. Risky, perhaps, should anyone happen to look in, but also, on this rainy day, highly unlikely to occur. Jo mopped the rain off her face as best she could with her jacket sleeve, put Meg’s keys into the ignition, and started their journey.

  In minutes they were on the street and heading out of Abbotsville, Jo thinking rapidly to what lay ahead. She had promised Meg that she would take her to Patrick, which meant driving to his furniture shop. But Jo realized now that Pat’s young daughter was likely to be there too. Bringing Patrick into this situation was bad enough, but there was no way Jo would endanger Abby.

  “Meg,” she therefore said, “I’m wondering if it’s the best idea to go to Pat’s shop.

  “I’m going to meet Pat,” Meg said firmly.

  “Yes, I didn’t mean that that should change. I’m just remembering that his shop is in a busy part of town. There would be too many people around, people that could tell the police, later, that they saw the two of you take off together. It would be much better to have Pat meet you somewhere else, somewhere more isolated.”

  Meg didn’t say anything for a while, and Jo drove – on the highway by then – and waited, wondering what else she could say to convince her.

  But then Meg said, “He could come to the fairgrounds.”

  Jo shook her head. She had already pictured the empty expanse around the buildings there, making them, she felt, next to impossible for any kind of covert approach by a rescue team. “I know you thought it would be a good, isolated spot to bring me to, but actually they’ve started constructing several more buildings there lately.” A huge lie, but Jo hoped Meg would believe it. “There’ll be plenty of security people around, keeping an eye on the equipment.”

  Jo had come up with a place to take Meg that she might agree to and would also offer hope of escaping this situation. “I was thinking of the tobacco barn where I met with Bill Ewing. He wouldn’t be there, of course, with this rain. It would be very private, and it’s in a very pretty spot.”

  Meg appeared to think that over. “Okay. Go to the barn. I’ll tell Pat to meet me there.” Jo glanced over and saw Meg smile slightly. Did she find the thought of a reunion at an old tobacco barn romantic? Did she truly believe Patrick would be overjoyed to hear his high school sweetheart was waiting for him and expecting him to run away with her?

  Jo turned her focus back to her driving. Her next problem was finding the way to the barn. Harry had driven the only time she’d been there, and Jo’s thoughts then had been on Bill Ewing more than roads. She hoped she’d be able to spot the final, barely-visible turn-off while under pressure. Jo’s cell phone suddenly rang from inside her purse, making both of them jump.

  “Let it ring,” Meg said.

  “I’d better not, Meg. I asked Carrie to call me about an important shipment we’re expecting for the shop. If I don’t answer, she’ll know something’s wrong. Carrie’s a real worrywart and she’ll sta
rt calling people.”

  Meg pulled the phone out of Jo’s purse and handed it to her. “Okay, but keep it short.”

  Jo flipped the phone open. “Carrie?”

  “It’s me, Aunt Jo,” Charlie said, sounding incongruously cheery. “I’m at the shop. Mrs. Chatsky got the vase and all, but now she wants another one. I checked, but you only have the one. I said you’d order another, okay?”

  “That’s great, Carrie.”

  “Huh? Aunt Jo, it’s me –”

  “So the shipment got there all right?”

  “Shipment? What ship— ”

  “Good. Do they need any help getting it in, Carrie?”

  “Aunt Jo, what’s going on?”

  “Hang up, Jo,” Meg said.

  Jo glanced at Meg. “Okay, but make sure they don’t knock off that photo I hung near the stockroom. The one that Harry took.”

  “Hang up!” Meg had picked up her gun and was pointing it at Jo. Jo closed her phone. Meg took it and slipped it into her pocket.

  Jo looked back at the road. Would Charlie understand what she was trying to tell him? Or would he decide she was sliding into early senility, shrug, and go back to his NASCAR races?

  “Pat is going to be so surprised,” Meg said.

  Jo glanced over and saw that Meg had quickly put aside her concern over the phone call and had taken on a dreamy look.

  “It must have been so rough for him,” Meg said. “Poor Pat, married to that awful Linda. She probably told him terrible lies about me at the start, things that lured him away from me.”

  “Yes, I suppose she did.”

  “But I’m sure he eventually saw through those lies as he began to see through Linda. How he must have regretted his mistake. He must have thought about me so much.”

  So much that he didn’t even recognize Meg when she came to his store, extra weight or not? But the last thing Jo wanted was to burst the bubble Meg was so contentedly floating in. How long, though, would it remain intact?

  Jo had left the highway and driven into the farming area she recognized from her trip with Harry. Before long she spotted, with some relief, the narrow road Harry had pointed out as the site of his cousin Delroy’s boyhood home. She slowed considerably, scanning the roadside for the farm road that would lead to the barn. The appearance of that area had changed in the rain and lower light, but eventually she found it.

  “We turn in here,” she said.

  “Here?” Meg asked, suddenly distressed.” How will Pat find this? You can hardly see it!”

  “He must know this area,” Jo assured her. “He’s lived nearby for long enough. But I can help direct him if necessary.” Jo said this in as firmly soothing a voice as she could manage. Keeping Meg calm and positive, now that they had arrived, was Jo’s next priority.

  They bumped along the road, Jo relieved to find its tamped-down surface still firm as the overhead canopy of tree branches apparently deflected much of the rain. But it also reduced much of the light, which gave Jo the feeling of driving through a dark tunnel - too much like her present situation. Jo brushed that thought aside and managed to keep her speed up, and they soon reached the area where the field opened up.

  “There it is,” she said as the barn came into view – to their left and not far from the dense tree line.

  “Oh!”

  Jo glanced over to see a glow of excitement on Meg’s face. Instead of the weed-cloaked, rotting-wood barn that stood there, she seemed to be seeing an ivy-covered castle, the site of her long-awaited reunion with her lost love. Meg quickly fumbled through her purse to find her cell phone. “I have to call Pat. You have to tell him how to get here.”

  That bubble was suddenly in danger of being smashed to smithereens. Jo quickly urged, “Let me make the call, Meg. You’re so excited, and it will take so much explaining. I’ll hand it over to you as soon as Pat understands.”

  Meg blinked at Jo. “No,” she said, frowning. “I can do it.” She scrolled through her list of numbers and Jo cringed, wondering what she could do if Meg became upset and erratic over Pat’s response.

  Jo pulled up close to the barn and turned off the ignition as Meg put her call through. It seemed as though each of them held their breath while the phone at the other end – in Patrick Weeks’ furniture shop - rang. Jo thought she heard the faint sound of a voice answering, but Meg didn’t respond. Instead she closed her phone.

  “He’s not there. I got his answering machine.”

  Jo exhaled.

  “I forgot this was Saturday,” Meg said. “ He probably closes early on Saturday. We’ll have to go there after all. We’ll find someone who will tell us where he lives.”

  “No,” Jo said. She had to keep Meg here. “I’m sure he’s open until seven. I saw his hours posted on his door when I was there. He must be working in the back, that’s all. He’ll come out and check his messages. You’ll have to leave one, so he can call you.”

  Meg looked uncertain, but she called the shop again, saying, when the answering machine’s message came to its end, “Pat, it’s me, Meg. Call me back right away. I have to tell you where I am.” She gave her cell number and hung up.

  “Maybe I should have said more?” she asked, looking doubtfully at Jo.

  “You can explain everything when he calls,” Jo assured her.

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “He will, Meg. Just give him a few minutes.” Jo glanced back at the dense part of the farm road they had just come through, which was too visible from where they sat in the car. “Why don’t we wait in the barn,” she said. “It’s getting steamy in here.” As she said it she wondered if her hopes of any help coming were futile? Was the message Jo tried to give Charlie too obscure to understand? Meg had both cell phones in her possession. Could Jo somehow get one of them away and call for help without Meg noticing?

  Meg still looked fretful about not having reached Pat, but she opened her door. She grabbed hold of her gun and signaled to Jo that she should get out first. Jo climbed out and hurried through the rain to the partially open barn door. She heard Meg’s door slam shut and Meg’s footsteps behind her as Jo dragged the barn door farther open.

  They entered into the dim interior of the barn, lit only by slivers of light that came through the slatted walls. The scent of tobacco seemed to have intensified in the dampness, and a few drips could be heard making their way down from the leaky tin roof above. The floor of the barn was dirt and weeds, and possibly - Jo thought, uncomfortably – hiding spots of all sorts of creatures. Meg, however, seemed unaware of the seediness of the spot, only caring about bringing Pat to it as soon as possible.

  Jo rubbed at her arms in an effort to ward off shivering in her wet clothes. Wanting to get Megs thoughts off of Pat as much as possible, but also because she wanted to know, she asked, “Why did you poison Kevin, Meg? Why couldn’t you have just left him?”

  Meg stared at Jo, looking as though she was having difficulty remembering who Kevin was, much less why she had tried to kill him.

  “I had to,” she said, finally, and when Jo waited for more, added, “you were trying to pin Linda’s death on Pat. I had to make it look as though that photographer had done it.”

  “So you were willing to kill Kevin just to keep Pat in the clear?”

  Meg nodded, apparently pleased to see that Jo understood.

  “But,” Jo said, “since you were the one who killed Linda, the best way to protect Pat would be to simply confess, wouldn’t it?”

  Meg scowled, impatient now with Jo’s turn toward denseness. “I killed Linda so Pat and I could be together! We wouldn’t be together if I was sent to prison, would we?” Jo saw that all actions were judged justifiable by Meg by the higher good of she and Pat being reunited. “What did you give Kevin?” she asked.

  Meg’s face closed down. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “But it does, Meg. Kevin could still pull out of this if the doctors know what to treat him for soon enough. There’s no reason to hide it
anymore, is there? By the time Kevin recovers, you and Pat would be long gone.”

  “I’m going to call Pat again.”

  Obviously it had been a mistake to mention Pat. He was the only one Meg wanted to think about. Don’t bother her, she seemed to say, with lesser problems. She called the furniture shop’s number, but apparently got the answering machine again.

  “Pat, are you there? Pat, it’s me, Meg. You have to call me right away. We don’t have much time.” She paused, then added, “You can bring your little girl, too. She can come with us – it’ll be all right.”

  Jo could only imagine what Pat would feel once he heard those words and understood all that was behind them. Bring his cherished daughter to meet up with a madwoman? Jo looked at Meg. Not quite mad, perhaps, but on the brink. Clear thinking had obviously left her long ago, though she’d managed to camouflage it for the most part. The few people who encountered Meg in Abbotsville may have thought her odd, but had probably blamed it on her abusive husband. Meg had, in effect, used Kevin as an alibi for all her shortcomings.

  “You were very clever, Meg, making Kevin look like a terrible person.”

  Meg looked up from her phone, once again appearing to have to work at understanding who Jo referred to.

  “I mean,” Jo said, “all those subtle hints you dropped to Ruthie that convinced her Kevin was abusing you.”

  Meg nodded then, her lips turning up in a small, self-satisfied smile. “It wasn’t easy. I had to make it seem like things slipped out accidentally.” Meg’s expression turned defensive. “Maybe Kevin didn’t actually beat me, but he never made me happy either! Not like Pat would have.”

  Poor Kevin, Jo thought. He was, in fact, the one being abused, just for being who he was - or wasn’t. First Meg had chipped away at his reputation, then she’d made an attempt on his life. Which might yet prove successful – a thought that appalled Jo, but for which she felt powerless, at the moment, to prevent. Had she done the right thing, luring Meg away from the hospital to this remote spot? In the heat of the moment it had certainly seemed necessary. Meg had been ready to kill herself – which meant never giving up the secret of Kevin’s poison – plus she was more than ready to shoot anyone who got in her way. Innocent people.