by Diane Weiner
“Listen to this, Dad. ‘Rosie is mine and I’ll keep her hidden as long as I have to.’ What does that mean? I thought we’d established he wouldn’t cheat on your grandmother.”
“Is it before they were married? Check the date.”
“Nope. After the wedding date. If Rosie wasn’t a mistress, maybe he was hiding a fugitive or an illegal alien.”
“I’d swear on a bible my grandfather wouldn’t have cheated. Man, I’d forgotten just how creative you are. It could mean anything, or nothing at all.”
“Aren’t you curious? And what about those cryptic numbers? Look at this. If you trace the darker numbers and turn the page sideways, it makes a shape.”
“Let me see.” She brought it closer to her father. “You, know, it almost looks like an oboe.”
Patty pushed the door open. “Sara, what a nice surprise.”
“Mom? I thought you were at work.”
“Lunch hour. I forgot my lunchbox so I thought I’d come and eat with your father. Now that you’re here, even better. Come in the house.”
She and her father neatened up their areas and followed Patty inside.
“How about grilled cheese and tomato soup. Comfort food for a chilly day.”
“I haven’t had grilled cheese in ages. Have you got pickles?”
“Of course. There’s an open jar in the fridge.”
“So what happened with Mrs. Montague? Was she arrested?”
“No, but I’ll bet her insurance company drops her like a hot potato. Imagine, blaming Ellie for keeping the ring when all along she knew exactly where it was. And shame on Preston, too.”
“I don’t suppose they found him between last night and now?”
“Last night?”
“I had dinner with Phil and he said they’d been watching for signs of Preston’s whereabouts but were drawing a blank.”
“You and Phil had another date?” Patty smiled with her eyes.
“Leave her alone, Patty. It’s her business; she’s a grown woman.”
She loved how her father always had her back. “I wouldn’t call it a date, just two friends sharing a pizza.”
Patty said, “You know, I like Travis a lot, but things would be simpler, you know, if you got together with Phil.”
“Mom, seriously? I have no interest in dating Travis. We’re like oil and water.”
“I’m just saying you and Travis come from different backgrounds. You’d have to be sensitive to that. And I wonder if his parents would accept him dating out of his race?”
“Mom, you’re crazy. I told you we’re not dating. Please change the subject.”
“I was wondering how long you can stay? I assume you’re leaving right after Grandpa’s party.”
“Actually, I’m not. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“You’re worrying me.”
“There’s nothing you can’t tell us.” Bob scooped out a bowl of soup for each of them.
“I’m on medical leave. I’m having a problem with my hand—focal dystonia.”
“Like that oboe player in the Chicago Symphony had?” said her father.
“Yeah. I took six months off to see if it improves. So far, it’s not looking promising, even with Travis’s help.”
“I forgot he’s a physical therapist. Poor baby. Come here.” Patty hugged her. Sara could feel the love all around her. Thank God she had the greatest parents in the world.
Sara’s eyes teared. “You know how much I love my job. And how fortunate I was to win the audition. What if I never play again?”
“Don’t go thinking like that. You have six months. See what happens. Dad and I are here for you. Grandpa, too. He acts like an old fool for attention but he loves you and Scott dearly.”
“I know.”
“And the guy in Chicago was able to work his way back into the orchestra. I made a new oboe for him.”
“I know. We’ll see what happens.”
Patty cut the grilled cheese sandwiches and set them on the table. “By the way, Phil thinks they found the murder weapon.”
“Really? Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“Frankly, I was more interested in your love life than some nasty weapon.”
“Well, what did they find?”
“A tire iron. The blood matched Ellie’s and guess what else?”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“They got a fingerprint off it. Preston Montague’s fingerprint. If they were searching for him before, you can bet they’re sending out the posse now.”
Sara couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard this from Phil. Then again, why would he tell her? First of all, he’s been busy with this new clue all morning. Secondly, he didn’t want her in danger and had clearly told her to stay out of it.
“Will you let me know if they find anything more?”
“Okay.”
“Where did they find the weapon, by the way? I thought they’d done a thorough search of the area already.”
“Apparently they missed it. They received a phone call saying it was in the woods behind the house.”
“A phone call from whom?”
“The person didn’t want to leave a name. Phil thinks they may have been worried for their safety.”
“I hate to eat and run, but I’m going to head home now. I didn’t sleep well and I’m going to try to take a nap. Dad, I’ll be back tomorrow to help. Mom, I’ll order the cake on my way home.”
“Okay, honey. See you then.”
Sara stopped at the bakery and leafed through the book of birthday cake designs. Too many choices. She decided on the design with musical notes and balloons. I’ll have them add a great big number 80. Buttercream, of course. Yellow cake with chocolate pudding between the layers. Grandpa’s favorite.
When Sara got home, she found a note stuck in the front door. It’s not how it looks. I know who killed Ellie. Call me. Preston M. She read the number. Her pulse raced. He’s still professing his innocence? I’m supposed to call the prime suspect in my friend’s murder and chat? Is he crazy? Especially now that they found the tire iron with his fingerprint on it?
She unlocked the door and tossed her purse on the sofa. On the other hand, it’s not like he can strangle me through the phone or anything. Hands shaking—from nerves, not the dystonia—she punched in the numbers.
“Hello. Is this Preston Montague? It’s Sara. Um, you said to call you.”
“You called. Thank God. Look, I know you’re Ellie’s friend and I know I’m the prime suspect in her murder, but you have to believe me. Like I told you before, I didn’t kill her. I loved her.”
“Preston, your prints were on her back door. And on the murder weapon.”
“What murder weapon?”
“The tire iron. With your fingerprint on it.”
“I’m being framed. They searched that yard before and now they come up with a weapon? With my prints? I was coming to rescue Ellie the night she was murdered. You have to believe me.”
“Rescue her from what?”
“I can’t tell you over the phone.”
She had wondered herself how they’d missed the murder weapon. “How did they get your tire iron with your prints then?”
“It was stolen out of my car. I’d fixed a flat tire a week ago.”
“You went into hiding instead of telling the police. And you had her ring in your locker.”
“That was my mother’s idea. I told her I didn’t want to do it, but arguing with her is like climbing Mt. Everest in flip flops. Look, I have some important information to give you. Information you can turn over to the police. Ellie begged me to do the right thing and I didn’t listen to her. Now she’s dead and I think I’m next. I know who killed Ellie. Can you meet me at Cusa Farms?”
She hesitated. Seriously? I was just there a few hours ago. Then again, there was something sincere about him. Why leave a note when he could have ambushed her at the door had he wanted to kill her?
“Please.
For Ellie. No police––they won’t give me a chance to explain. Meet me at the warehouse at Cusa farms. 4:00. I know you know where it is. I have something to give you.”
She couldn’t believe it. Preston, a murderer on the lam, wants to meet me at an abandoned warehouse. Was she seriously considering this?
“I don’t know that I can do that.” Then again, it’s not like I have any solid evidence against him. I’m not a threat. Cusa farms is a perfect place to hide. Why risk reaching out to her if he wasn’t being sincere?
“You’re my only chance. I’ll give you everything you need to show the police who really killed Ellie. And please don’t go to the cops. They’ll arrest me before I can explain.”
Should she call Phil? He’d have the place crawling with cops and Preston would go back into hiding. It was still daylight. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter 21
She was trembling, not sure if it was the cold, fear, or pure adrenaline in anticipation of learning who killed Ellie. Preston Montague is innocent. I feel it in my gut. I believe him when he said he was framed. With the careful searching the police did, how come they didn’t find a tire iron? If Preston used it to change a tire last week, of course, his prints would be on it.
Travis still wasn’t home. She knew it was a Hail Mary, but she hoped that when she went into the driveway to get into the car and go meet Preston, Travis would see her, run over, and offer to come with her. Am I crazy? For all I know he’s the killer. Offer? Travis would insist she not go alone. He’s the one who rescued her when Jailyn conked her over the head at the cabin. Or was it Jailyn after all? Travis just happened to be on her tail?
Between this morning and now, the sky had gone from blue to gray. Freezing rain pelted her windshield. A sudden turn of events, like the sudden change of weather. It had to be an omen. Should I turn back? Breathe in, breathe out.
When she reached Cusa Farms, the rusty chain barrier lay on the ground and she drove through the same road she had been forced to hike this morning. She turned around a bend and spotted the warehouse. A white BMW was parked next to it.
Here goes. She pulled up alongside the BMW and slammed her car door shut in a false gesture of bravery. I can do this. I’m finally going to learn the truth. She shivered as she walked toward the door. Then, she looked down at the snow. Pink snow. She froze. Oh, my God. This can’t be happening. For the second time in her life she was staring at a lifeless body. A gun was lying on the ground a few feet away.
Her instinct was to scream, though she realized rather quickly no one was going to hear her. She bent down to feel for a pulse, something she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do when she discovered Ellie. Dead. No question about it. Preston Montague stared up at her with blank, lifeless eyes. He had something in his hand. He was clutching a gold, oblong pin.
My phone! She ran back to the car and called 911.
It seemed like forever. She waited in the car, doors locked just in case. Preston was about to tell her who killed Ellie. Now he was dead too. If he was guilty, he wouldn’t be dead. Someone wanted to insure he didn’t spill the beans. Sirens. It’s about time.
Phil ran out of the car and knocked on the window. “Sara, open up. We’re here now.”
She got out of the car, falling into Phil’s arms. “He’s…he’s been shot. He’s dead. Preston is dead.”
Arms squarely planted on her shoulders, he said, “Stay here with the officer.” It was more of a command than a request. Phil ran over to the body. Within minutes, the ambulance was on the scene and in a blur, she was taken to the police station to give a statement. The first person she ran into at the station was her mother.
“Sara! What happened? You said you were going home to catch a nap and next thing I know you find another dead body? Are you okay? Come here, honey.” Her mother’s arms wrapped around her, making her feel less alone.
“When I got home, there was…there was a note. On my door.” Her mother handed her a tissue from her desk. Sara blew her nose and caught her breath. “Preston wanted me to call him. He wanted to meet with me. He said it wasn’t what we thought. He was going to tell me who killed Ellie.”
“Why didn’t you call the police? Going out to an abandoned farm to meet a killer? You’re smarter than that.”
“I called him. He was scared the police would arrest him before he had a chance to tell his side. He was going to tell me who killed Ellie.”
“Since they found the murder weapon this morning with his print on it, I’d say it was pretty clear who murdered her.”
“No. It doesn’t make sense. He explained it. They’d already done a thorough search right after Ellie was murdered. They would’ve found it back then. He was being set up.”
Phil Lambert came into the office. “We’ve got the crime scene unit out there. Come in and let’s get a statement.” He held the door open, motioning for Sara to enter. She remembered the note and took it out of her jacket pocket. “This was on my front door.”
Phil took the note. “Why didn’t you call me right away?” The veins in his forehead popped out.
“You told me to stay out of it. I wanted to hear what Preston wanted to say and he was adamant. No police.”
“Still, Sara. Technically you interfered with police business.”
“Can you trace the gun?”
“What gun?”
“The one that was lying a few feet from the body. And he had said he’d have evidence with him. Did you find a box or something—maybe in his car? Did you check the trunk?”
“There was no gun. Preston Montague clearly was shot, but we didn’t find a murder weapon. And no magic box full of evidence either.”
“That’s impossible. I saw the gun with my own eyes. First I say I found Jailyn’s badge, then the gun. Both times the items disappeared before the police saw them. Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Unless the killer was still on the scene and grabbed it after I went to the car. Oh my God. I could have been next.”
“You did the right thing locking yourself in the car, but clearly, you never should have gone there alone. What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t want him to get scared off and run again.”
“I hope you learned your lesson. I told you to leave the police work to the professionals. I don’t try and play clarinet in that symphony of yours. I know I don’t have the necessary skills.”
“Oboe. Not a clarinet. Let’s get this over with. All I want to do is take a hot shower and get into my pajamas.”
“I’ll have someone escort you.”
“No. I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to sit around waiting for an officer to become available.
When she finally left the station, it was dark. She stumbled to her door in a fog, fumbled with the key, and then felt arms grabbing her from behind. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get the air needed to scream.
“Sara, it’s okay. It’s just me. Travis.”
“Travis? Where have you been? When did you get home?” She felt angry that he hadn’t been there for her.
“A few hours ago. I heard the story on the news and immediately called your mother. Your phone went to voicemail. I figured you forgot to charge it. She told me what happened and said you were on the way home. I wanted to be sure you’re okay.”
“You scared me half to death.” She opened the door and flicked on the lights.
“Reset the alarm. Tell me what I missed.”
“I got a note from Preston. It was stuck in the front door. He had something to tell me and wanted me to meet him at the warehouse, but when I got there, he’d been shot. It’s safe to say he’s off the suspect list. I saw the gun. It was right next to the body.”
“Then they’ll be able to trace it and find the owner.”
“Not exactly. I saw a gun by the body. I’m positive. But the police didn’t find a gun. The killer had to have still been on the grounds while I waited.”
“You shouldn’t have gone alone. Yo
u know that.”
“Well, I went looking for you, but you never told me where you were going or when you’d be back. I had no choice. If I waited, Preston might have changed his mind.”
“Thank goodness you’re safe now.”
She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “So, where did you go in such a hurry?”
“I’d rather not say. I was taking care of business.”
“Secret physical therapist business?”
“No need for sarcasm. Are you hungry? I’m sure you haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
Her stomach growled. “The last thing I want to do is cook.”
“I’ll order us a pizza.”
Sara changed into comfy sweats and when she came downstairs, Travis had started a fire. She grabbed Panther and sat down in front of the fireplace. “If Preston didn’t kill Ellie, who did? The ring motive is out the window, as is Preston seeking revenge. That leaves Jailyn Peters.”
“And the motive is jealousy?”
“She has a history. Maybe it’s more than jealousy. Maybe she’s hiding something and Ellie was about to expose her. Ellie told Preston to come clean and he threatened her not to say anything. Perhaps Preston and Jailyn shared a secret not related to romance. Maybe whatever Preston was going to hand over to me exposed that secret. Jailyn found out he was contacting me and got to him first. How can we find out if Jailyn Peters owns a gun?”
“There’s the pizza.” Travis answered the door and came back in with a piping hot box of pizza.
“How solid is her alibi?”
“Phil says she was volunteering at a clinic across town.”
“And he’s absolutely sure?”
“He seemed sure.”
“I think our next move is to take a ride to the clinic.”
“Our next move? We’re in this together?”
“Well, I see what happened when you tried doing it alone. By the way, I hope your detective finds out if Jailyn Peters has a gun permit.”
Her phone rang. “Hi, Mom. I’m fine. Travis is here and we’re sharing a pizza. Tomorrow? Okay. Can I invite Travis? Okay. See you then.”
“Your mom?”
“My parents want to take a trip to the winter craft fair. I think she’s trying to lighten the mood. Want to come?”