Hark! A Homicide

by Tricia L. Sanders

  “Excellent!” I said. “That’s great news. Call the kids and let them know. They’re supposed to arrive early Christmas Eve. I’ll put the girls to work prepping our Christmas dinner since I won’t have time. If you’re not up to going to the community dinner on Christmas Eve, I understand. I have to go. The kids might want to stay home with you. I can catch a ride with Lizbeth and Donny.” Max scooted out of the alley and took up residence next to me, far enough away I couldn’t pet him.

  “Naw, they won’t want to miss it,” Mo said. “I’ll probably be feeling up to it, but you’ll need a new Santa. I’ll guilt Michael into it.”

  “Ha! Guilt the son-in-law. Did you plan this to get out of Santa duty?” I knew better but couldn’t help teasing him. I heard the familiar squeak of our patio door opening. “What are you doing?”

  “Huh?” Mo asked.

  “I heard you open the door. What are you up to?” I knew darn good and well what he was doing. His workshop sat about ten steps from our backdoor, and he had an unfinished rocking horse for our three-month-old grandson on his workbench.

  “Nothing. Checking to see how deep the snow is. When are you coming home?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “I’m on my way. Stopped at the Double L to get takeout for supper.”

  Janine Lassiter pulled up to the curb, slammed her car in park, and scurried past me without even an acknowledgment. The dog growled and bared his teeth, the first time I’d seen him show any sign of aggression—smart dog.

  “Tell Lou he better get his affairs in order. He might have stepped in it this time. This murder has his name written all over it,” Mo said.

  “You’d love that wouldn’t you?” Lou really had been a thorn in Mo’s side. Mo’s dad had Lou on the ropes back in the day with an air-tight case, until witnesses started recanting and things took a bad turn. It ended with Lou getting off on a technicality. Mo’s dad never recovered from the failure. “Can’t you let it go? He’s an old man. I really don’t think Lou is involved with this. He’s been different since Mom died.”

  “Mattie, I know he was good to your mom and you, but I can’t let it go. Once Lou is behind bars, I can retire a happy man. Hey, get me a piece of pie too.”

  “Mezo packed you a piece of coconut cake. You’ll get pie on Christmas. Gotta go. I’m standing outside freezing my face off.” I started to disconnect, but before I did, I said, “Get back in the house, and leave that horse alone. Ben won’t know the difference if he gets it for Christmas or six months from now.”

  Mo grumbled, and the line went silent.

  Chapter Five

  Three other customers had entered the Double L while I was on the phone. Janine was holding court in the corner with them. When I walked by, the conversation stopped, and they all averted their eyes.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked Lou, nodding my head toward their table.

  “Her Highness is up on her soapbox, railing against Mo,” Lou said. “The guy in the denim shirt is the new reporter for the Chronicle. Jeffrey something or other. I’m not sure who the couple is. They were minding their own business when Janine pulled them into the conversation.”

  My husband’s life was about to get a whole lot more complicated, and mine too. I had to keep this on the down low. Mo needed to concentrate on his health and not on whatever it was these wingnuts were concocting. My next few days would consist of hiding the newspaper, keeping the TV and radio off, and running interference with well-meaning neighbors.

  “Lou, what am I going to do? Mo will be furious,” I said.

  “You’re asking the wrong person, Sis.” Lou swallowed another antacid. “That Janine is a pretty shifty character.”

  “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” I leaned over and hugged him. “But I still love you. And regardless of Mo’s suspicions, I know deep down you’re a good guy.”

  Lou sat up straighter and took my hand. “You need to stay out of this. Mo’s got the snot to take care of Irv, and Janine for that matter. You don’t want to mess around in this business.”

  “I have two concerns. One, my husband thinks he’s John Wayne and indestructible. Two, all the donations for the annual Christmas Eve charity party have been confiscated as evidence.

  “Lizbeth and I don’t have time to put together another collection. The kids will all go without this year if I can’t get this resolved.” I sighed. “With Christmas Eve being a couple of days away, we’re sunk. We can’t begin to afford to buy gifts for all the children. The best we can do is provide the meal. Mezo’s still making pies for the dinner, right?”

  “Of course,” Lou said. “And the donations will work out. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so.” I opened my purse and pulled out my wallet.

  “Put your money away. It doesn’t work here.” Lou handed me the sack of takeout and shooed me toward the door.

  I hesitated until he’d gone back to the kitchen, then I walked over to Janine’s table and bent down real close. “I don’t know why you’re targeting my husband, but I won’t stand for it. Mo has given his all for Pine Grove, and you’re not going to step in and ruin his reputation for no reason.”

  The reporter stood up and offered his hand. “Jeffrey Gaston. Nice to meet you ma’am. Would you care to make a statement about the recent murder?”

  I shook his hand. “Yes, I’d care to make a statement. This woman doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She does not represent the best interests of Pine Grove. Mo Modesky has a history of integrity and caring for the citizens of Pine Grove.”

  “Spoken like only a wife could speak,” Janine butted in.

  “It’s the truth, and you know it.” I bit my lip. “And, it’s a fact this is Pine Grove’s very first murder. Our population is expanding, new people are moving out of the city, and our town council has Mo’s hands tied. His budget is constantly being raided, his officers denied training. They can’t afford the latest equipment to keep up with the times. It’s a sad fact, but Pine Grove’s ripe for some sort of criminal disaster. Maybe now the council will take notice of what needs to happen.” Did I just say that to a reporter? I knew it was too late to eat my words and backtrack.

  I hadn’t noticed it previously, but the guy had a cell phone lying on the table. “Are you recording our conversation?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I swallowed a sick feeling, then decided I’d make the best of it. “Well, add this. The board needs to take a good look at Janine before they start casting doubts on Mo’s abilities. He’s been on the force for forty years and chief for over thirty. We’ve never had anything like this happen. All of a sudden, Janine gets elected to the board and starts pulling strings to sabotage Mo’s department. Now, there’s a murder investigation underway. You might want to check out her boyfriend. Seems a bit dodgy to me.”

  Janine opened and closed her mouth like a fish. She sputtered and stuttered, “N-not my fault the town has been blinded by the Modesky charm. It’s time everyone wakes up and sees we need a change.”

  “The only change we need is for the board to stop listening to your lies. Pine Grove was a peaceful community until you started stirring the pot,” I said.

  Janine slammed her coffee cup on the table. “I’ve had enough. You better watch who you’re insulting. I’ll have Mo’s badge along with every officer in his department.”

  Lou must have overheard. “Shut up, Janine,” he said. He grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the table. “You’re fueling her hostility. Don’t let her get under your skin.” He pushed me toward the door. “Now, go on, get out of here. I’m going to talk to that reporter. You don’t need to be splashed all over the front page tomorrow.”

  Chapter Six

  A storm front had moved in by the time I made it home. The sky was leaden, and fresh snow had started to fall.

  Mo was pacing when I walked in. “I’ve been worried about you. It looks bad out there.”

  “The roads are still okay. I passed a coup
le of snow plows on my way home.” I removed my boots and hung my coat on the peg by the backdoor.

  “Where’s the paper?” Mo asked, peering into the sack from the Double L.

  I scooted the bag in front of me and took out the chili and Mezo’s coconut cake. “Oh, I knew I forgot something. I can go out after dinner and get one.”

  Mo pulled two bowls from the cabinet. “No way. The weather’s not getting any better. I’ll call Cora at the station and see what she knows.” Mo flipped open the takeout box that held the cake. “Mmm, that cake smells delicious. Maybe we should start with dessert first.”

  I swatted his good arm. “No way. You want your chili now or you want to wait a bit?”

  “Save it until the news comes on. We can eat in the living room.”

  “We’re not doing any such thing. We eat at the kitchen table. We’re not a couple of couch potatoes.” Ha! I ate my lunch in the living room every day while Mo was at work so I could watch my soaps. But he didn’t need to know.

  “Well, okay Miss Grouchypants. Let’s eat now so I can watch the news afterward. I feel like I’ve been cut off from civilization. I gotta get a handle on what’s going on—see if they’ve identified the elf or retrieved the footage from the security camera. I need to know who was in that Santa suit.” Mo eased himself into a chair with a long sigh. “After dinner, I’m gonna call Jason again. I’ve left two messages on his cell and one at the sheriff’s department, but he hasn’t called me back. Not sure what’s up with that kid.”

  Mo called everyone under the age of forty kid. Jason Blank was the newly elected sheriff of our county—an outsider, but one of the good guys. He’d turned thirty-eight his last birthday and still had a couple years before Mo would consider him a guy instead of a kid. Jason and Mo had a good working relationship. I knew Mo would get more frustrated as the case lingered. He hated feeling helpless, and I hated feeling like I had to be a mother hen, but I had no choice. At least, until this case was put to rest. Or Mo had recovered, whichever came first. I was hoping for the first. I did not look forward to endless weeks of Mo trying to insert himself in the middle of this investigation when he needed to be concentrating on getting well.

  “Put that out of your head. Jason’s on top of it.” I felt bad not telling Mo that Billy Craighoff had been identified, but it would only ramp up his determination to get to work on the case.

  “How do you know?” Mo asked, suspicion in his voice. “Did you talk to him? Is that the reason he’s not calling me back?”

  I hated lying to Mo and wouldn’t. Instead, I did what I’d been doing for forty years when he brought up a topic I didn’t want to discuss. I changed the subject. “Stop getting yourself all worked up. You’re grounded until after surgery and then a while after that, so I suggest you cool your jets.”

  “Nothing and no one grounds Mo Modesky.” He reached out and pinched my butt when I walked by. “Least of all you.”

  “You want this chili in your lap, mister?” I laughed and set a steaming bowl in front of him. “You want cheese?”

  “Of course. Got any P.B. sandwiches?” he asked.

  “Duh! What do you take me for?” I asked. “I learned from the best. Mama Lorraine would never serve her chili without a peanut butter sandwich.”

  “That’s the Mattie I know and love. How about onions?” Mo stirred shredded cheese into his chili.

  I diced an onion and placed it on the table along with the two sandwiches I had cut diagonally.

  “You got any—”

  “Milk?” I reached around and set a glass in front of him.

  “Dang, you’re good.”

  “Forty years, buddy. Forty years.” I sat down and scooped up a spoonful of chili.

  After dinner, I washed the dishes. Mo usually dried, but since he had one arm in a sling, he sat at the table and kept me company. We chatted about our kids coming home and the fact that we’d be spending the first Christmas with our grandson. Big mistake on my part.

  “I think I’ll head out to the workshop,” Mo said.

  I knew he was getting stir-crazy, but I also knew if he went out to the shop, he might forget about the news, and that was a good thing. Mo didn’t want a TV in his shop, because he said having one would distract him.

  “Be careful. You only have one good arm, and you don’t want to mess that up,” I said, folding the dish towel and placing it on the bar inside the lower cabinet.

  Mo had one hand on the doorknob when we heard strains of Silent Night coming from the front lawn.

  “Sounds like we’ve got carolers,” I said. “How could that have slipped my mind? Go see, and I’ll whip up some hot chocolate.”

  When Mo went to check on the carolers, I cut up a hot dog and added Max’s antibiotic while waiting for the milk to heat. Max was curled up in the back yard under the pine tree. I opened the door and dropped the hot dogs onto the patio. He eyed me with suspicion, but when I closed the door, he hurried over and gobbled up his snack.

  Mission accomplished, I ladled hot chocolate into disposable cups and headed to the front porch. Eight carolers were lined up on the sidewalk singing O Come, All Ye Faithful, my favorite. I was relieved that Sheriff Blank was not with them, but my heart sank when Janine Lassiter stepped forward with a glint in her eye.

  “Chief, we need to talk.”

  I stepped between Janine and Mo. “Now’s not the time, Janine. He’s on medical leave, and you’re supposed to be caroling. You don’t want to hold the group up.” I shoved a cup of hot chocolate her way.

  The leader launched into Deck the Halls and shooed Janine back into the group. She glared at me but eventually joined in the song. When they finished, I collected the cups and shut the door.

  “What was that all about?” Mo asked, settling into his recliner. “You looked like you were gonna take her head off.”

  “That woman rubs me the wrong way. And she’s got a lot of nerve coming to our house under the guise of caroling in order to speak with you,” I said. “She knows you were hurt on the job. Probably trying to talk you out of suing the city or claiming workman’s comp.”

  Mo shook his head and reached for the TV remote. “You have an overactive imagination. This is more of her retirement nonsense.”

  “Whatever,” I said, pushing my lip into a pout. “One of these days you’ll appreciate what I do for you.”

  “I know something you can do that I’ll appreciate.” Mo nodded toward the bedroom.

  “Not in your weakened condition.” I pulled the remote out of his hand. “Let’s play cards.”

  “Naw, I’m going to catch the end of the news.” Mo dropped into his recliner and snatched the remote back.

  “Thought you were headed to the workshop,” I said, hoping to take his mind off the news.

  The TV blinked on, then off, and the lights in the house followed.

  “What the—” I started.

  Mo looked out the window. “The whole neighborhood is dark. Storm must have knocked out a power line.”

  Relief washed over me. Now, if only the electricity would stay off until the news broadcast ended.

  Mo put his good arm around me and whispered in my ear, “Since I can’t watch TV, and we can’t play cards, there’s only one thing left to do.”

  Chapter Seven

  The power came back on around midnight. The next morning, I drove to the doctor’s appointment, which scared the tar out of both of us. I hated driving during bad weather, and Mo hated riding with me regardless of the weather. We arrived in plenty of time, but like always we waited forever. An hour later, they finally called him back to see the doctor.

  To occupy my time, I visited the coffee shop in the lobby and ordered a hot tea. While I waited, I noticed Irv Blessing sitting at a table near the window. The man scared the bejeebers out of me. His whole demeanor screamed “danger.” I screwed up my courage and strolled over to his table.

  “Morning,” I said.

  He put his newspaper down and smirked.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Somewhere along the line, Irv had lost an eye and wore an eye patch. That added to his intrigue. And scariness. His white hair stood up in a puffy cloud around his head—teased and sprayed to conceal the fact that he was going bald.

  “S-sorry to hear about your a-associate,” I stammered. Seriously, Mattie, get your stuff together.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Blessing said.

  My knees knocked together, and my breakfast precariously tilted in my stomach. I had to remind myself that my husband’s reputation was on the line. Mo was in no shape to work this case, but if I could do some of the legwork for him, he might still be able to determine who killed Billy Craighoff and get that stupid Janine to lay off.

  “Your employee,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “Billy Craighoff. The one Mo found upside down in a donation bin. Wearing an elf suit.”

  Blessing laughed, a deep, rumbling belly-laugh. “You have me mistaken me for Lazy Lou. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my coffee before it gets cold.”

  I didn’t move.

  Blessing stirred his coffee. When I didn’t retreat, he looked up. “Mrs. Chief, I suggest you turn yourself around and be on your way.”

  This time I didn’t move because I froze. Visions of riding in the back of a black sedan and cement shoes encasing my feet ran through my head like a vintage movie.

  Blessing slapped the table and brought me back to reality. “You hear me? Don’t go snooping into business that doesn’t involve you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I said with a boldness that belied my pounding heart.

  Blessing shook his paper open, thereby dismissing me.

  I backed away, but when I saw the gossip column on the back page, I did a double take. Chief falls down on the job. literally. Next to the article, I saw a grainy black-and-white photo of Mo lying face down in the snow, the dog next to him. Oh, boy!