by Sonia Parin
He didn’t wait to be asked twice and didn’t even ask for more explanations. “Buckle up.” As he headed out of town, he said, “I assume there’s an idea taking shape in your mind.”
“I’d like to look at the model village again. The house is all that’s left of Harold. It might tell us something we didn’t notice the first time… Anyway, did you have any luck at all today?”
“Yes, I suppose I shouldn’t complain. I followed up on the accountant, Joe Adams. Once we got past the confidentiality hurdle, Joe Adams told me George Mercer is indeed keen to get his hands on Harold’s land and he’s willing to pay above the asking price. Can you guess where I went next?”
“The lawyer’s office?”
He nodded. “That’s one hurdle I didn’t think I’d be able to jump until the official reading of the will.”
“But you did?”
Again, he nodded. “His brother gets the bulk of the estate.”
“Really? But I thought they were estranged.”
“I guess blood is thicker than water. Anyhow, Harold made provisions for his ex-wives, so they should be happy. He’d been quite generous with them, paying them a weekly allowance and that’s going to continue.”
“You spoke with his ex-wives today. Do you think they’re capable of murder?” Abby couldn’t help asking.
“No. In fact, I doubt they’d be capable of delivering the blow. The killer used something heavy. They’re both quite slim. In any case, they have alibis. One spent the morning watering her garden before the heat set in. She had an argument with her neighbor for using too much water and several neighbors overheard the altercation. The other Mrs. Moorhead spent most of the early morning on the phone to her family in England.” Joshua drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “This is going to be a tough one. It seems everyone got a late start today so the town was practically deserted.”
No witnesses. Or rather, no witnesses who were prepared to come forward. Someone must have seen something or heard something. “The men in this town didn’t really care for Harold. We’ve established that, but that’s not to say any of them would be capable of murder. Who told you everyone hated him?”
Joshua tapped the steering wheel. “I might have chosen the wrong word.”
They exchanged a knowing look and both said, “It’s the heat.”
“Although,” Abby went on to say, “now that I think about it, no one at the pub expressed any real sympathy for him. I guess you have your work cut out for you.”
Had Harold’s lack of presence in the town made him a target for apathy? The less one knew about someone, the less they cared about them. Although, before his retirement, Harold had been a prominent figure in the community. In fact, he’d been the hero of the Christmas of ’09 power outage…
With no one out and about on the roads, they reached the homestead in record time. “I see the sprinklers are still working. They must be set on some sort of automatic timer.”
Joshua disconnected the alarm and waved her in. Before he could close the door, his phone rang. He had a brief conversation and then turned to her. “I’m afraid I need to chase something up.”
“How about I wait for you here?”
He looked around and nodded. “Keep the door locked and don’t let anyone in.”
She was about to say she had Doyle to keep watch for her when she realized Doyle had stayed behind at the pub. “Hurry back.”
Left alone in the house, she moved from room to room, familiarizing herself with all the nooks and crannies, and exploring rooms she hadn’t looked at before. She poked her head inside a room and found an ironing board with a pile of clothes, neatly ironed and waiting to be put away. A large screen TV had been positioned in front of the ironing board suggesting Harold had enjoyed watching TV while ironing.
Walking back toward the sitting room, she marveled at the amount of work that must have gone into setting up the railway tracks. She found the control switches next to an easy chair. Giving in to temptation, Abby pressed a button labeled #1 and watched one of the trains begin its journey around the small town.
Mesmerized by the gentle hum of the train, she put another one into motion and followed it as it chugged along the track, over bridges, under bridges, and past the town. As it reached a train crossing, the lights started flashing and a little bell rang. “Well, well, Harold,” Abby whispered. She could see why he’d devoted so much time to his hobby but what did it reveal about him? A simple fascination or a sign that he’d been deprived as a child? Or maybe he’d owned one small train set as a child. Then as a grown up, he’d wanted to relive the memory.
She didn’t have any burning passions so she couldn’t really comment on why people became so involved and obsessed with their hobbies.
She stopped in front of the little building with tiny tables and umbrellas set up outside. Leaning in, she had a closer look and was astonished to see the umbrellas has tiny icicles hanging off the edges.
How had Harold known about the icicles?
Walking around the house, she found a room next to the main bedroom he’d clearly used as his workroom.
There were a couple of workbenches with shelves above them full of small boxes, each one clearly labeled. She looked inside one and found tiny trees and bushes. In another one, there were stacks of windows and panels that must have been used to build the little houses. He had boxes for every season, including Christmas. Harold must have been up half the night changing the sceneries.
As she stepped back, she saw the waste basket under the bench. Compelled by curiosity, she had a closer look and found bits and pieces of candy stripped fabric and an empty bottle of glue. He’d made the umbrellas, using the glue to fashion the icicles! “Impressive.”
Next to the workbench there was a large bookcase. Not surprisingly, there were books and magazines about trains, as well as catalogues from hobby stores.
Returning to the sitting room, she focused her attention on appreciating all the changes Harold had made in a single night. Seeing a little figure with elf ears, she smiled.
“How did you know, Harold?” Joshua had said Harold had called his ex-wives a couple of times a week. Maybe they’d fed him information about the town and everything going on.
Stepping back, she tried to take in the whole scenery. Not exactly easy, she thought, since it all expanded throughout the house.
“What am I missing? What am I not seeing?” Her gaze skated along the main street and reached the Gazette office. Leaning in, she could see a little figure sitting behind a desk. That had to be Faith. The other figure sitting by the desk closer to the window had to be her.
Harold had a box full of those tiny figures. They had enough details to define them as male or female but they were all plain. The ones he’d used in the model town had been painted. Taking a closer look, she thought she could make out the outline of flip flops on the figure’s feet. “That’s definitely me.”
She walked back along the main street and turned the corner. “Bradford’s old Range Rover?” He’d even painted the rust on the doors.
There were a few figures standing outside the stores but she couldn’t identify them. The accountant’s first floor office had a figure standing by the window.
Thinking Faith or Joyce might be able to help identify some of the figures she drew out her phone and started taking photos. Abby was in the middle of taking a close-up shot of the café when her phone rang.
“Where are you?” Joyce demanded.
“Has something happened?” Abby asked. “You sound flustered.”
“If I sound it, it’s because I feel it. One moment you’re here helping me with the decorations and the next you’re gone.”
“And you only now noticed me missing? I’ve been gone for over half an hour.”
“Yes, well… Markus didn’t grumble once so I thought he was you. Then I looked down to ask you a question only to find him scowling up at me.”
Abby apologized. “I’ll be back soon. I�
��m just waiting for Joshua…”
“Oh, you’re working on the case. You should have said so. I’ll leave you to it.”
Joyce ended the call leaving Abby to shake her head and smile. “When are people going to accept I only have one job to do? Report on the news.” Following the second train, she turned.
The next few seconds became a blur.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shape moving toward her.
The shape turned into a man.
Her intuition kicked in too late. She tried to get her legs to move but he had his arm around her neck and then his hand over her mouth…
Chapter Twelve
Abby tried everything she could to break free. After her initial struggle, her survival instinct kicked in and she tried to become a deadweight. Even that didn’t help her. He simply moved too quickly and had her bound and gagged in no time.
Overcome with panic, she tried to remain positive. She’d been blindfolded, so she told herself she would be fine. He had no intention of killing her.
Abby took a moment to calm down. Only then did she realize she still had one of her senses. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t talk. But she could listen.
She heard the man moving around from one room to the other, opening drawers and closet doors. He had to be looking for something and he obviously didn’t think she could help him.
Despite being blindfolded, she closed her eyes and thanked her lucky stars.
At least he hadn’t hurt her and, she insisted, the fact he had taken the trouble to cover her eyes suggested he had no intention of hurting her.
Could it be someone she knew? Someone she saw every day at the café?
Drawing in a calming breath, she tried to remember what she’d seen. Not his face. No, that had been covered. Or maybe he’d worn a cap pulled down.
How could she use her limited senses?
She focused on listening to the way he walked. He wore boots with thick soles. Yes, his footfalls resounded around her. Firm. Hard. Determined.
How would she describe him to Joshua?
Tall. Well-built. Strong. Could she determine his age from that? His arms had felt firm and solid. Was he a local farmer? Young? Old?
She heard his footsteps slow down and then stop only a couple of feet away from her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what thoughts he might be entertaining. Then again, maybe she could.
What to do with her…
If he knew her, he was probably thinking she was a smart cookie and might have discerned something about him. Something that would give away his identity.
Abby wanted to assure him she hadn’t seen anything. She fought against the urge to mumble against the gag in case he took it as a sign she wanted to say something which could easily turn out to be something stupid that might land her in deeper trouble.
She tried to focus on the other sense available to her but she could only smell air-freshener. Had she picked up the scent of aftershave lotion?
Toothpaste? Mouthwash? Beer? Something? Anything?
Joshua would want to know and she would have nothing for him.
So much for her observation skills.
A few seconds ticked by or maybe minutes. She couldn’t tell. When she didn’t hear anything, she mumbled a hello but didn’t hear a response.
A bead of perspiration trickled down her forehead. She felt the heat in the house thickening; something she hadn’t noticed before. The sprinklers might have been on an automatic system, but not the AC.
Joshua would come to her rescue soon. Even if he got sidetracked and forgot about her and drove back into town, he would eventually remember. And, if the business that had taken him away took longer than expected, Abby knew he would think of organizing someone to pick her up.
She heard one of the trains chugging past her. A moment later, the next one went by.
An eternity or maybe only a few minutes later, she heard the front door open and someone walk in. Then, Joshua called out, “Abby.”
In here, Abby thought. She tried to mumble it but the sound was muffled by the gag. Oh, she hoped the man had used something clean.
Ugh. What if he’d stuffed a sock in her mouth?
“Abby.”
Abby groaned. Hearing herself, she straightened and groaned louder.
“Abby?”
She knew the moment he saw her. He hurried toward her.
“What the hell?”
Relief seeped through her. He’d found her.
Joshua moved quickly and methodically, removing the gag and blindfold and then untying her hands.
Now that he’d taken the gag off, she tried to speak but her mouth felt as dry as sandpaper.
“What the hell happened?” he asked as he finished untying her legs. When he freed her, he drew out his phone to call for backup.
With her hands and legs free, she scrambled to her feet and went in search of water. Grabbing a bottle from the refrigerator, she leaned against the counter and drank the lot.
“Sorry, I should have offered you a drink.”
Pressing her hand against her chest, she nodded and between gasps, said “Thank goodness you came. I lost track of time.”
“If it’s any consolation, the sun has set.”
She looked toward the window and saw the light had softened. “That’s something.” Pulling herself together, she told him about the intruder. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see his face.”
“It’s okay. At least he didn’t hurt you.”
Looking around the kitchen, she didn’t notice anything out of place. A tidy intruder… “He was looking for something.”
Joshua nodded. “I think I can guess what that was. That phone call I got was from the solicitor.” He growled under his breath. “Damn idiot. He could have told me over the phone… He remembered Harold had made an appointment to come in and see him. Apparently, he’d wanted to change his will.”
They both knew only one person would be affected by that.
“His brother.”
Joshua nodded. “We’re trying to locate him.”
“On the bright side, you now have another suspect. You just don’t have the name.”
He gave a small nod. Hearing the distant sound of sirens, he said, “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“No… We should have another look around the house. There has to be something in here.” Abby grabbed another bottle of water. “And… How did he get in? I didn’t hear anything. I know I locked the door after you left.”
Joshua took that as a prompt to look around.
As he walked off, Abby went in search of the AC remote.
“The laundry door is unlocked but I don’t see any damage,” Joshua called out.
Either the intruder had a key or he knew how to pick a lock, Abby thought. “That’s the room furthest away from the sitting room.”
Joshua agreed. “He must have seen me leaving.”
And he must have seen Abby playing with the train set… Or… Had he been in the house all along?
Fanning herself, she asked, “I think I’m dehydrated.” She went back into the kitchen to get more water. As she drank it, she had a look inside the cupboards again. She didn’t think Harold would have had reason to hide any important documents, not when he had a solicitor and an accountant to take care of such matters, but one never knew. Also, they had no idea what they were looking for.
“Who else would have known about his plans to draw up a new will?” Abby asked.
“The solicitor and his receptionist.”
“And what are the chances they mentioned it to someone else?” she called out.
“It’s possible.”
Abby inspected the pantry. “Harold liked baked beans. Pity he didn’t think of hiding something important among the cans.”
She wandered off and found Joshua in the workroom where he’d found a camera. “Anything interesting?”
He nodded. “He liked to photograph his model village.”
“Let me
see.”
He scrolled through the images.
“Oh, that must be from yesterday, before he made the changes.” She walked over to the bookcase for a closer look and found a row of photo albums she hadn’t noticed before. “Heavens. It looks like every time he changed something he took photos.”
“I’m going to go look for a box.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m taking this in as evidence… for you to look over. If there’s anything of interest, I’m sure you will find it.”
“You’re kidding me. I’m a civilian… and a reporter.”
“You know you want to look through all those albums. Admit it.”
“Are you shorthanded again?”
He smiled. “You’re always offering to help. This is your chance. Besides, it should keep you busy for a while.”
“And out of trouble?”
To walked off saying, “Yeah, that too.”
Abby drew out her phone and typed in a text message.
“Why are you sending me messages?” he called out. “I’m right here.”
“I’m only returning the favor by suggesting what you should follow up on. Who slashed the out of town electrician’s tires? That crime went unsolved. Did anyone hold a grudge against Harold Moorhead? Talk with Martin Smith again and ask if he remembers who was in the store when Harold called him to place his order. Did George Mercer spend the day with his cattle or did he sneak away to kill Harold? And while you’re at it, find out how Harold knew what was going on in town? Whoever that person was, they must have known he’d planned on going into town.”
Joshua returned to the workroom. “What was that last one?”
“The person who gave him updates”
“What you said before that.”
“Oh, Harold never went into town and yet he knew what everyone was doing.”
Joshua started packing the photo albums into the box he’d found. “How do you know that?”
“Oh… The little figures in his model village. They’re not just there to take up space.”
He took the box out to the hallway and returned with another box.
“Oh, I just thought of something. The security cameras.”