A Most Curious Murder (16 page)

It was the time of day on a June afternoon when Bear Falls went quiet. The faux Swiss chalet stores and old-fashioned plain shops along Oak Street were empty. There were few cars parked along Oak Street. Sprinklers in front yards turned lazily or flipped themselves over and dug deep water holes in the grass. Children’s voices were subdued, the games quieter. Cane Park, curving around the waterfall, was empty.

Jenny and Lisa decided to come to the waterfall because there’d been so little time to be alone.

They leaned against the railing, watching and listening as the towering water cascaded over bare rocks—loud when it fell, then loud again when it hit the river, spewing upward in clouds of vapor, and louder still when it thundered on into Bear Falls lake.

Lisa turned her head and smiled. “I wanted this so bad,” she said, her hands gripping the wooden railing. “I needed to come home.” She leaned back to take in the very top of the falls. “Wish I didn’t have to go back, but I’m getting distress calls from the crew.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jenny said. “I don’t know how we’re going to handle all of this without you.”

Lisa shrugged and gave Jenny a smile. “I’m nothing but moral support.”

“Where will I get
that
from?” Jenny sounded like a miserable kid, even to her own ears.

“That Tony’s a pretty good guy. Got broad shoulders. Worth a second look.”

“Thanks.” Jenny made a sour face. “Maybe I should get over the last one first.”

Lisa turned back to the falls. “Isn’t it something?” She stared at the water.

Jenny knew with certainty, and for almost the first time, what was in her sister’s head. She was talking about them: how they were friends again. Jenny laid her hand on top of Lisa’s and watched the water falling, barreling over itself to hit the bottom and splash up high, again and again.

They didn’t say much, just stood together.

“Is that your phone ringing?” Lisa tipped her head at the noise.

It was. Jenny fumbled in her shoulder bag.

“Mom?”

“Is Lisa with you? Where are you?”

“At the waterfall.”

“Well, that’s nice.” She hesitated. “But could I ask you to come back to the house?”

“We’ve got an hour before we have to leave for the airport.”

“I called Tony. He’ll take Lisa. I really need you here, at home. Minnie Moon was here. She needs to talk to you.”

“Who?”

“Minnie. She’ll be back in an hour. Please? This all seems so very . . . strange.”

She couldn’t refuse her mother. She sounded nervous and not able to handle a
no
right then.

When Jenny told Lisa, she agreed to leave, but not happily.

A few minutes after getting home, Lisa was hugging everyone, then she and Tony were off to the airport.

The sadness hit Dora and Jenny immediately. And the bottomless quiet that comes when someone you love has gone.

They finished a supper of scrambled eggs and toast before Jenny asked unhappily, “Where’s Minnie, Mom?”

Dora shrugged. “She’ll be here. Said she would be.”

“That was hours ago.”

Dora shook her head quickly but didn’t say any more.

Dora rolled piecrust for a rhubarb pie and Jenny read
Alice in Wonderland
, memorizing new quotes, though the old quotes ran out of her head even as she read. Dora talked on and on about all the books being donated and how a party was in order when the libraries were up and running.

“We’ll have an amazing cake,” Dora said happily. “And refreshments.” Dora turned her piecrust into the waiting tin.

“How about a raffle? Give away some of the books?” Jenny suggested.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I might need them all.”

Jenny was about to say that with the dozens of books they were getting, she wouldn’t need new books for years, but she didn’t.

As Dora set her filled pie in the oven, Zoe and Fida came through the door, Minnie Moon behind them.

“Glad you came back, Minnie!” Dora waved her to a seat at the table. “Come on in. Come on in. Jenny and our neighbor are here now. You know Zoe, don’t you?”

Minnie Moon fell into a chair, trying to catch her breath. It was a long walk from her house. She nodded to Dora and Jenny, then colored up and bit at her bottom lip.

“Don’t think we’ve been introduced, Ms. Zola. Seen you around, mostly at funerals. Nice to know you.”

Minnie Moon, in red slacks, a red T-shirt, and all that messy red hair, looked somewhat like a pregnant volcano. She huffed, then puffed, then pounded at her chest as if to dislodge a plug.

“I remember you especially.” She grinned at Jenny when she could talk. “Used to get in trouble, is what I recall. Wasn’t it you and that Arlen boy threw a park bench down over the waterfall that one time?”

Jenny gave the woman a weak grin and started to shake her head but gave it up.

“And your Halloween trick? That dog stuff you kids put in a bag and lit on fire, left it on my porch so I’d get it all over my foot when I went to step on it? Bare foot, too, I remember.”

Jenny smiled again, though she thought she smelled retribution, not nostalgia here.

Dora brought Minnie a glass of iced tea, which she took with gratitude.

With the tall glass in her hand and her breath coming back to her, Minnie said, “Anyway, heard you talking about a party, Dora. That’s what brought me here to see you. Well, not the party. Though that sounds like a nice thing to do. I’m talking about what happened to the library in the first place.”

“What’s on your mind, Minnie?” Dora asked.

“I would’ve gone to Ed Warner, but people are starting to say he’s trying to push everything that’s happened off on to you, Ms. Zola. People starting to think he’s being lazy. Not really looking into things.” She gave Zoe a slightly pained smile. “Maybe I should have come right out with it when I came before. I guess it mostly has to do with you, Dora.” She smiled almost sweetly. “What I didn’t want to do was get in the middle of anything and make it worse. So I’ve been thinking. Sometimes I tell myself to stay out of stuff. None of my business. Then I tell myself it’s
my civil duty to let you know what went on the night the Little Library was busted up.”

“You saw something?”
At last
, Jenny thought.
Something beyond a list of my sins was coming out.

Minnie nodded.

“What’d you see?”

“I’ll tell you exactly as it happened.”

They waited.

Minnie gave a weak cough and settled slowly into being the center of attention. “Would you have another glass of tea, Dora? Little more sugar this time, if you don’t mind.”

Minnie gave Jenny a long look. “You really were an awful little girl, Jenny. So much trouble. But look how you turned out.” She shook her head. “Gives me hope for my Deanna. She’s into everything. Can’t keep her hands off anything. Especially not off a man.”

“How old is Deanna, Minnie?” Zoe asked after catching a look at Jenny’s reddening face.

“Oh, she’s nineteen now. But she’s one of those girls who just don’t want to go to college or anything. You know, not too quick to get a job, either. And going with boys I don’t much like.”

“What’s the point here, Mrs. Moon?” Jenny leaned back, feeling tired and too stressed to sit there listening to Minnie’s list of grievances with her daughter.

A massive tear rolled down Minnie’s wide cheek. “I’ve got to say something I don’t want to say.”

“You’re not going to hurt my feelings,” Jenny said. “I mean, no more than you have already.”

“Don’t be hurt by anything I say, Jenny.” She moved uncomfortably around in her chair. “The reason I mentioned Deanna . . . well . . . much as I hate to say it, Deanna’s been seeing Johnny Arlen.”

“Seeing him?” This wasn’t at all what Jenny expected. “Johnny’s married. With a couple of kids. One more about to be here any day.”

Minnie nodded. “I told her what’s going to happen to her. And that poor Angel pregnant and probably fretting because of my daughter. Can’t tell you how bad I feel.”

“Pretty lousy, I imagine. Have you talked to Deanna?”

“A hundred times.” Lines of tears ran down her face. “Oh, if you only knew. I mean, what happens if Deanna gets pregnant? What will any of us do?”

“Is that what you came to tell me?” Jenny asked while the others stayed silent.

She shook her head fast. “No, there’s more. Maybe you’ll see why I wasn’t in any rush to tell somebody what I saw. The night the Little Library got all busted up, my Deanna was out with Johnny. Night after night, I’d be out looking for her and chasing him away, then taking her back home.”

“What are you saying?” Dora asked.

“I was coming down Elderberry. It was about five in the morning, I’d say. I was damned and determined I’d find them and put an end to her seeing him once and for all. That’s when I saw Johnny’s blue pickup parked across the street from your house, Dora. That’s when I saw these two people just whaling away at the library. I couldn’t believe it. Johnny Arlen and my daughter. Both of them. You couldn’t really hear anything. I mean, because of the hard rain and the trees shaking and the wind. It was like one of those pantomime things. I stopped my car and crossed the street, and they didn’t even see me. Laughing and whispering and chopping up that dear little house and throwing the books around. Can you imagine the two of them doing such a thing? It looked like something straight outta hell.”

She settled her shoulders back.

“They were drunk,” she went on. “I told them I was going to call the police on ’em, and that kind of woke them up. I got Deanna into my car, though she was crying and reaching out to Johnny—a big drama queen, you could say.”

She heaved a lung-emptying sigh. “So there, now I’ve told you. Guess you could sue us. Can’t blame you. Or maybe you can talk to Johnny Arlen. Tell him to leave Deanna alone from now on. Maybe get him to go talk to Ed Warner, confess it was his idea. My daughter would never have come up with such a thing by herself. I know that for certain.”

Jenny shook her head. Her voice was firm. “I won’t be talking to Johnny.”

“You got any other idea? I didn’t come here to throw my daughter to the dogs, you know.” Minnie straightened her back and looked down her nose at Jenny.

“My mom’s having it rebuilt. Paying for it herself. I think somebody owes her that money.”

“As I said, better talk to Johnny. Deanna was only there because of him.”

“Did Deanna tell you why he wanted to do it?” Zoe asked.

“Only thing she will say is Johnny was just mad. Somebody was coming back to Bear Falls. Probably you, don’t you think, Jenny?”

“Are you sure it was Johnny?” Dora asked.

Minnie nodded.

“I’ll bet that’s not exactly how the story went,” Zoe said.

Minnie rubbed hard at the red polyester stretched tight over her legs and shook her head. “That’s what Deanna said. She’s the one heard you were coming home, Jenny. So I thought back to the time you and Johnny were supposed to get married and figured there was still bad blood between you. That’s all I know. If it’s money for the library you want, you go see Johnny. The only
reason I told you in the first place was to get the truth out and let the chips fall wherever they’re going to fall. I’ve got my hands full with Deanna as it is. Girl’s going to get in a lot of trouble.”

She turned to Jenny. “I was even thinking maybe you could talk to her about Johnny. I mean, if it’s all true, what he did to you, you could lay it out for her and open her eyes.”

Minnie got up slowly from the chair, looked at nobody, then walked straight out of the room.

Dora and Zoe were dead quiet. Jenny couldn’t feel herself breathe. She didn’t know if she could move.

Johnny, that bastard. All over again
.

“We should call Ed Warner,” Dora finally said.

Jenny nodded.

“Bet that shoe print on
Tom Sawyer
will match Johnny’s shoes,” Zoe said.

Jenny shook her head. Her stomach hurt—a sucker punch to the gut. She couldn’t stand the sound of even one more voice, not in the place she was now, somewhere between throwing up and screaming. She had to get out of there. Nobody spoke, but even silence felt crushing and expectant. Any minute, someone could say another word and the room would explode.

She stood.

“Don’t go, Jenny,” Zoe called softly.

“It’ll be all right, dear.” Dora put her hand out.

She went back to her room and fell into her small bed, praying for sleep.

That day had been a hard one.

Jenny wished it was darker. She wished she was in a place so dark she couldn’t find herself. So completely invisible she’d never be found again by anyone.

She lay in her undersized bed and tried to sleep, tried to hide from thoughts that might dissolve her right back into her old, unlovable self.

When she was engaged to Johnny, she’d been a much better human being, a nicer, kinder human being. She’d been a girl who trusted everyone to be true to their word and the world to be more like an ideal Hollywood movie, where the happy story ended with a kiss, a white wedding, children, good careers, a house in the suburbs, and anniversaries celebrated. There would always be an enduring love and a long, happy life. That wasn’t who she was after Johnny. Scarred now, as if he’d taken a knife to her instead of words.

Feeling sorry for herself didn’t seem warm and fuzzy all of a sudden. She should call Ed Warner—immediately. But if she was the one to call, there would be whispers again among Bear Falls people: “Poor Jenny Weston. She’s getting even, you know.”

What was wrong with Johnny? He got exactly what he wanted. He had Angel and a few kids, another on the way . . .
so what was he doing with Deanna Moon? And why had he destroyed the library?

She lay still listening to the soft wash of wind in the pines. Again and again, she flipped from one side of the bed to the other and then finally got up to sit at the window and look at the stars and that sliver of moon. She thought about the two men she’d let into her life. Neither of them wanted her.

Johnny didn’t. He’d heard she was coming home and was determined to make her miserable.

The pines waved in eerie shadows, geometric triangles, ragged squares.

She hugged herself though the breeze coming through the window was warm.

Before she knew what she was doing, Jenny snapped on the light and got back into the clothes she’d shed and laid over a chair earlier—clothes she’d been wearing all day. It didn’t matter. Who cared what she wore? Not to the place where she was going.

She brushed her hair then stuck it back into a ponytail, wrapping a red rubber band around it.

She bent to look in the dresser mirror and thought she needed at least a little makeup, then asked herself if it was for her or someone else.

When she decided it was for her, she patted on blush and a good, hard swipe of lipstick.

When she looked as good as she wanted to look, she grabbed her shoulder bag and left the room, closing the door behind her, making her way down the hall and out the back door on tiptoe.

***

It was dead dark and scary. Deer moved in the darkness—or were they raccoons? Could be a bobcat—no, a bear. She drove
only as fast as she felt was safe, never overdriving her headlights. There was no plan, only driving up and down the main streets of town, beginning with Johnny Arlen’s house. The lights were on in almost every room, but only one car was parked in the driveway. That car wasn’t Johnny’s blue pickup.

She drove past Bear Falls’ two saloons, then went back down Elderberry to where Deanna Moon lived. No blue pickup.

No Johnny anywhere in town. Useless quest, but she couldn’t leave it alone now that she’d set her mind on talking to him. She drove out of town toward the turn on to US 31, the place where her dad had been killed. But she couldn’t think about that right then. No thinking about loss.

She drove the twenty-five miles to Traverse City, and then over to Cass Street, to Junior’s Bar. She turned into the parking lot behind the bar and checked the cars parked there. No blue pickup—not one among the many in the lot.

She sat a while, wondering what she’d missed, where she hadn’t checked. A car honked behind her, forcing her to move. No sense going home. She parked, got out, and went into Junior’s, being stopped on the way in by a drunk who wanted to buy her a beer, which she politely declined.

A few couples sat along the bar, heads together. A trip to the ladies room told her Johnny wasn’t in the poolroom.

It was after midnight. The place was emptying out. A workday for most.

She had a beer at the bar and nursed it so she wouldn’t have to order another. The bartender, maybe feeling sorry for her—a lone woman—tried to strike up a conversation, but she only stared and didn’t answer.

Twelve thirty. People were no longer coming in. She told herself to give it up, that she hadn’t thought anything out well enough, that she didn’t know what she’d say to him if he did
show up, that she was beginning to be embarrassed sitting on a barstool and giving her phony expectant look every time the door opened, glancing at her watch as if waiting for someone. All of it was wearing thin.

She paid and left the bar, walking out to the dark parking lot and looking for her car, since she hadn’t been thinking straight when she’d walked in.

A man stepped out of the dark, from beside a dumpster near the alley.

“That you, Jenny?” The voice was familiar.

Johnny stepped in front of her, putting his hands up to stop her.

All she wanted, now that he stood in front of her, was to get away. Why did she feel she had to talk to him about any of what happened? He was drunk when he destroyed the Little Library. It had nothing to do with her.

“I’m glad to see you.” Johnny’s voice was soft. He swayed slightly, a shadowy smile on his face. His hands reached out to take her by the shoulders. “I hope you’re looking for me.”

She felt his hands on her and remembered how strong Johnny was. She tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let her. She gave in, stood still, looking up at him—small knives of moonlight in his eyes, shadows over his face. She felt sadder than she’d ever imagined she could feel in Johnny’s hands.

His dirty brown hair hung to his shoulders. She wanted to reach up and push it back, away from his face. Crazy thoughts and feelings ran through her head. She ached to lean in and hold him gently. She’d loved him. He’d loved her. There were remnants there—of wanting to take care of him, of thinking she could save him. He was still the man she’d loved completely.

“You were lookin’ for me, weren’t you?” he asked, trying hard to stand straight and smile at her directly with both eyes open.

Jenny said nothing. She couldn’t have spoken if she tried.

He pulled her closer. She put her hands against his chest.

“I knew you would come around,” he said.

Love didn’t come with a conscience. Parts of her body responded in ways she didn’t know she could feel again.

It took her a few minutes to get enough breath to speak.

With her hands against his chest, she said, “I’m here about what you did.”

He stumbled back. “What did I do now? All of you blame me for everything anyway. Could stop all this and we could still be—”

“You destroyed Mom’s library. To get even with me for . . . what?”

He fell back another step, righted himself, and peered hard at her. “Who told you I did that? Liars. People make trouble for me, ya know. Ever since we had our, you know, with Angel and all. Just make trouble for . . .”

“Deanna’s mother stopped you.”

He looked at the ground and finally shrugged.

“What gives you the right to hurt my mother the way you did?” she demanded.

Johnny blinked a few times. “You don’t know anything, do you? You don’t know what I’ve been livin’ through.”

“You’re the cause. Always were. You wanted Angel.”

“No, no, no, no . . .” He shook his head. “Before that. When . . . you know . . . when your father got killed.”

His face was wet. He reached toward her with a pathetic hand.

“Jenny . . .” He moaned her name.

Jenny took one last look and ran toward her car. She got in, locked the doors, started the engine, and backed out, moving around Johnny, who stood under a streetlight with his head down. A sad and ridiculous, staggering figure.

Poor Angel
, Jenny thought.
She thought she’d won the prize
.