The Milburn Big Box Set

by Nancy McGovern

  “But why do you want to leave him, then?”

  “It’s...” Ronnie shook her head. “You’ll call me a fool.”

  “I won’t,” Nora said gently. “Try me.”

  “It’s a hundred small things,” Ronnie explained. “I feel lonely here in Milburn. I’m so far away from my family. My mother had a hip replacement this month and I haven’t even been able to go see her. Tom promised me that we’d visit them more often but then he just keeps on making excuses. He makes excuses about everything. He doesn’t help with the kids, he doesn’t help with the house and, if I nag him, he blames me. I’m just sick of it all. I need a break. I need time alone. I need my family.”

  “You don’t break a marriage just because—”

  “I know,” Ronnie said. “I don’t want to. But talking to him doesn’t help, yelling at him hasn’t helped and I just can’t take it anymore. I want to take the kids and go live near my parents in Colorado. You can’t tell anyone. Promise me that? Please.”

  “I’m not a gossip,” Nora said, her voice quiet but firm. “Ronnie, I know it’s hard to believe, but I don’t want to grill you or make you suffer needlessly. You asked me why I’m taking risks and putting my family at risk just to get Zoey justice. Well, it’s because there are things that matter more. I’ve always believed that. What kind of mother would I be if I took a coward’s way out and bowed down to a bully? What kind of example would I set for my daughters? What manner of friend would I be to Zoey, a woman who was always there for me? I wouldn’t be able to live with it. So as long as I can make a difference, as long as there’s a chance I might catch the killer, I’m going to keep asking questions and, hopefully, getting answers.”

  Ronnie sighed. From inside the house, Nora heard the wail of a baby.

  “Looks like my little Alex is up from his nap.” Ronnie sighed. “Will you come in? I’ll talk to you. I suppose I have to.”

  “Do you want me to come in?” Nora asked. “You were pretty reluctant, the other day.”

  “I had suitcases lying out,” Ronnie said. “I was afraid you’d see them and guess I’m moving. I didn’t want that. I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”

  *****

  It took a while to settle little Alex and his older sister, Allie, but Ronnie managed. Nora sat in the living room, watching as Ronnie spoke softly to the two of them, handing one a toy and the other a book. Both items were soon lying abandoned on the floor, as the kids began a crazy game of what looked to be cops and robbers, chasing each other around the house and screaming happily.

  The house was a mess, Nora could see that Ronnie hadn’t been lying about that. Dishes lay all over the sink and toys were scattered around the living room. Various surfaces looked sticky, and one of the sofas had a half-eaten apple and a soggy cookie on it. Ronnie moved around aimlessly, sorting through the mess as best as she could. Nora set to work, rolling up her sleeves and doing the dishes.

  “Oh, no. You don’t have to—” Ronnie protested.

  “You’re doing me a favor by talking. It’s the least I can do,” Nora said.

  “Thanks.” Ronnie smiled, the lines on her face easing a little. “What do you want to know?”

  “You were good friends with Zoey, right?”

  Ronnie nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t have too many friends here either. Just like me. We were both outsiders, in our own way.”

  “Zoey considered herself an outsider? Really?”

  Ronnie smiled. “You won’t get it. You belong here. Born here, went to school here, know the ins and outs of this place. Right? Zoey and I, even if we stayed fifty years, would still be outsiders. In some fundamental way we didn’t…don’t…belong.”

  “You can’t belong unless you make an effort to,” Nora said gently. “I never see you at club meetings or church.”

  “Who has time?” Ronnie sighed. “Well, either way, Zoey was the one adult I saw regularly, week in and week out. So, yeah, I came to depend on her. I think she rather liked being depended on, too. She was lonely. No kids of her own, you know. She was really fond of your Hazel, though. Always talking her up.”

  Nora smiled, feeling a twinge in her heart. “Zoey was important to Hazel, too.”

  “But still… being nearly sixty, with no husband, no kids and no real social life, I think Zoey was a little more lonely than she ever let on.”

  “She had a boyfriend though, right?”

  “Matt?” Ronnie shook her head. “Zoey was planning to break up with him. He was really sweet and really crazy about her, but she said she just didn’t feel the spark.”

  “So who did she feel for? Her ex?”

  “Brock.” Ronnie sighed. “She told me their whole history and I thought going back to him would be a terrible idea. But love is blind, I guess. Zoey said she was convinced he’d changed and that he’d be different this time. She said her own parents weren’t very good to her and that Brock was the only real family she’d ever had in a way.”

  “I guess that’s a bond you can’t break even if you want to.”

  “Yeah. But, the thing is, I never liked the idea,” Ronnie said. “I guess I was right, too. I’ve heard rumors that Sheriff Ellerton is planning to arrest Brock soon.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Nora said. “Ronnie, is that why you were fighting at the party with Zoey? Because you didn’t approve of Brock?”

  Ronnie shook her head. “No. I mean, honestly, I thought she was old enough to make her own mistakes. I was angry at Zoey because she spilled my secret to Kim and Perry Morris. She told them I needed a new place in Milburn. She had a ridiculous idea that maybe if I stayed in Milburn but moved out of this house for a little bit, Tom would see the light and go back to being a better husband.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s not what I want to do. I want to just pack and leave for Colorado. In fact, I’m planning to do it one of these days, as soon as Tom goes to work.”

  “But Ronnie—”

  “Don’t. Please.” Ronnie put up a hand. “Just do me a favor and come by to make sure Mrs. Mullally is alright, okay? I mean, the nurses drop by twice a day and all but still, someone needs to make sure she has her medicines. I’ll write a list and email you. Just double check on her, will you?”

  “Absolutely,” Nora agreed. “But, about that fight with Zoey…”

  “Yeah, well, Zoey told me earlier that week that she’d told the Morrises I planned to leave Tom. I exploded at her for sharing my private business. She just told me I was being stupid and she was only trying to help. So that entire week she and I had a bit of a cold war going on.”

  “You saw her on Saturday, though.”

  “Yeah. She was here at 4 o’clock, but she was really quiet.” Ronnie paused. “At the time, I thought she was just ignoring me, so I ignored her, too. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe she was mulling something over. Maybe. Anyway, she didn’t say anything — just cleaned up and left.”

  “And at the party?” Nora asked.

  “I finally confronted her,” Ronnie said. “I asked her how long she was going to ignore me. Zoey just looked angry. She said she had too much on her mind and that she couldn’t talk about our fight right then. She made up some weak excuse about having to go mail a package and left.”

  “Mail something!” Nora exclaimed. “What? Did she say what it was?”

  Ronnie shrugged. “Beats me. I thought she was just making up an excuse…”

  “Ronnie, whatever it is she was mailing, we have to find out!” Nora exclaimed. “It might be just the clue that solves it all!” Nora slapped her hand on her head. “I’ve been such an idiot!”

  “What is it?”

  “I saw it!” Nora exclaimed. “That day, the day Zoey came to me, she had a box in the front seat of her car. A big, brown package. I saw it, but then I completely forgot I’d seen it…until now.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for!” Ronnie exclaimed. “You’ve got to go find out what it was!”

  *****

 
Chapter 18

  All Alone

  The post office was no help, unfortunately. For a minute, Nora had hoped that Zoey had somehow left behind a clue or perhaps, better yet, a letter that would incriminate the killer. The lady at the post office laughed as she shattered Nora’s hopes.

  “A bill?” Nora tried to hide her disappointment.

  Donna, a part time artist who Nora had once helped a long time ago, nodded. She’d known immediately what Nora was hoping for. “Nice try, Nora. The sheriff already came in and asked me. Someone told him they’d seen Zoey mail something and he was just as eager as you. But it was just an overdue electric bill that she sent. We looked it up.”

  “Oh.” Disappointed, Nora’s shoulders sagged a bit, but then she perked up. “Wait, this was after 7pm on a Saturday. Surely you weren’t here, then.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, no. If she’d wanted to send a package or something then, we’d have been closed. But all she wanted was to send was a return envelope for the bill, so the box outside was fine,” Donna said. “Sorry, Nora. I really hope they catch Zoey’s killer, too. But I’m afraid this is a dead end.”

  “A package. A package…” Nora blinked. “Donna, if she had wanted to mail a package, then she’d have taken it back home with her, right? Since you were closed? Did the sheriff look for anything like that in Zoey’s house?”

  Donna blinked, alarmed. “Well, now, I’m sure I don’t know. But he must have, don’t you think?”

  “Thanks for everything!” Nora exclaimed as she raced out. Zoey’s house. That’s where she had to go now. Surely there would be something there. Something the sheriff had missed. Nora cursed herself for not thinking of the package before. Whatever was in it was key to solving this whole mystery, Nora was sure of it. But what was it? And where?

  *****

  The yellow tape surrounding Zoey’s house was gone but the gate now held an iron chain on it to deter curious passersby. Nora stood in front of the house for a minute, gazing up at it. It was amazing how quickly a house could look abandoned. The last time she’d come here, on the morning of Zoey’s murder, the little whitewashed house had looked cleaner, brighter and more alive than every other house on the street. Yet already, only a few days after Zoey’s death, the house looked as though it were falling apart. It was subtle things, like the drooping, unwatered flowers on her plants and the way the grass had become overgrown. The windows looked dull and soulless, too, like the half-shut eyes of a dying man.

  Shivering slightly, Nora walked around until she found a loose board in the fence and managed to squeeze in. The sheriff wouldn’t like her poking around, but there was no harm, surely. Breathing heavily, Nora peeked into the house through the windows and tried both the front and back doors. All locked.

  It wasn’t quite dark yet, but Nora was sure it would be soon. Wishing she had a flashlight with her instead of just her weakly-lit phone, Nora managed to open up a window and crawl through it.

  “I really will work out more,” she promised herself as she finally managed to land in the kitchen. Her face was red and her heart was protesting, as were her arms. She sat down on the floor for a while, resting her head against the oven as she caught her breath. Finally, she picked herself up, this time to the protest of her knees.

  Oh, to be young again, she thought.

  With a start, she realized that, for the first time, she was standing at the scene of the crime. The kitchen had been cleaned up now so that it looked normal — no chalk outline of the body, no fingerprint dust. Just clean counters and a small dining table nearby. But right here, Zoey had drunk her morning smoothie, never guessing that it would be her last act on earth. Nora could picture it clearly: Zoey getting up that morning, coming down sleepily to the kitchen, getting out her fruits from the fridge and hitting the button on her mixer…

  Well, unknown to Zoey, someone had gained access to her refrigerator somehow. But how? Nora looked at the tall, white fridge standing next to the stove and then at the window through which she’d just crawled. With a start, she realized that she’d probably unconsciously retraced the murderer’s own steps. The killer had crept into the kitchen through the window with a bunch of poisonous berries in his pocket then had mixed the berries with Zoey’s pre-cut fruits. Then he would’ve gone back out the way he’d come in. Neat and clean, no proof left behind.

  Nothing but a dead body.

  Where was the killer now? Nora wondered. Was it one of the people she had talked to already? Or someone completely different? An image formed in her mind. She saw a man wearing a silver jacket walking away from her. He was whistling a cheerful tune and slowly taking off a pair of gloves. If only she could see his face…

  Shaking herself, Nora decided to focus. She’d come here to find the package that Zoey hadn’t been able to mail. Now, logically, if she were Zoey and she’d come home with the package still in hand, where would she keep it? Right by the front door, possibly.

  No. Not if it was important. Not if Zoey thought it was proof of some kind. Then, she’d want to keep it tucked away as safely as possible until she had a chance to send it. Nora’s best bet was probably the bedroom.

  Nora walked out of the kitchen and nearly had a heart attack as a body blocked her way. She gave a little scream and leapt back, putting a hand on her heart. “Brock! What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was going to ask you that!” Brock exclaimed. “I’ve locked the doors. How did you get in?”

  “Kitchen window,” Nora said. “Oh, Brock. You scared the daylights out of me.”

  “You scared the daylights out of me,” Brock repeated. “Couldn’t you have knocked like a normal person?”

  “I thought the house was empty,” Nora said.

  “It is.” Brock sighed. “I just decided to stay the weekend because the sheriff warned me to be close by. I couldn’t keep driving up and down the same fifty-mile stretch of road. Anyway, this is my house now, or it will be very soon. The lawyers said since the sheriff’s done with investigating it, I could stay here for a bit till the paperwork is finalized.”

  “Oh, that makes sense, I suppose,” Nora said. “Zoey left it to you in her will.”

  “Right,” Brock said. “I hate it. She’s still here. With every breath I take, I can feel her, smell her scent. She’s just...” He shook his head. “I can’t stand it. I’m going to wait till I’m able, then sell this house to the first person I can and take off.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “California, maybe? Hawaii. I don’t know. Someplace warm and far from here,” Brock said. “I’m going to leave all this behind and make a clean start.”

  “Will you have enough money? Zoey’s left some behind, but...”

  “I’ve got a pair of hands and I can work. And, yeah, Zoey left me enough,” Brock said. “Of course, you can always use more money. Who can’t? Wish I was a millionaire like some of the folks here in Milburn. Anyway, why are you here?”

  “A package,” Nora said. “I’ve got a feeling that Zoey left behind a brown box somewhere in the house.”

  Brock bit his lip and his eyes narrowed. “You came to search the house? The sheriff did that already.”

  “Well, yes. But he doesn’t have the advantage you do, Brock. You were married to Zoey. Just think, if she wanted to hide something important, where would she do it?”

  Nora saw a spark in Brock’s eyes. An idea flamed to life. Then he shook his head. “It’s getting late,” he said, looking at his watch. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow morning? We can discuss it then.”

  “You know something!” Nora exclaimed. “I could see it. Come on, Brock, don’t you want to find her killer? It’ll mean your freedom, too!”

  Brock shook his head. “I don’t care about her killer. Don’t you get it? What I care about is not getting arrested. But Zoey’s dead and nothing’s bringing her back. Even if she did hide a parcel, so what? It’s probably just a care package to some old aunt of hers. Or it’s something even more stup
id like her returning a dress to Amazon. I’ll hunt around and I won’t find a thing. All you’re doing is making me hope and I don’t want that. I don’t want your false hopes!” He strode to the front door and pulled it open. “Out,” he said, his voice low.

  “Brock, come on!” Nora stared at him, aghast. What had happened to him? This wasn’t the reformed man who had begged her for help. This was a calculating ex-convict who was hiding his thoughts from her. Trying to shake him, Nora said, “I have it on good authority that Zoey loved you, Brock. She wanted to be together with you.”

  “Yeah, well that was never in my destiny, was it?” Brock’s voice was bitter. “It’s all I ever wanted, too. I told you: me, Zoey, a red convertible and a bag full of money. That was my biggest dream in life. But now it’s all gone. The sheriff’s after my blood and I’ll probably rot in jail for the rest of my life even though I’ve done nothing.”

  “Come on, Brock. You can’t give up hope like that. We’re going to find out who killed her. I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, what does it matter?” Brock shook his head. “You won’t understand. You just can’t. You, with your perfect house and your perfect husband and your perfect kids. You will never understand what it’s like to be a loser like me. What does it matter if they find Zoey’s killer? I’ll still be alone, won’t I? Old and near broke and alone. I lost my youth, my freedom, my Zoey…and I’ve lost my hope, too. So just get out and leave me be.”

  “Brock—”

  “I mean it,” Brock said. He pulled the door open wider and gestured with his hand. “Out.”

  “You’ll regret this,” Nora said. “Don’t give up. Look for that package. I understand if you don’t want me around but you have to look.”

  “Out.” He wasn’t even looking at her anymore. But his eyes…there was calculation in those eyes. There were racing thoughts behind them. Nora wished she could read minds.