Bun for Your Life (24 page)

“No.” I was embarrassed at being such a baby. “I'm a little—”

“Afraid to go upstairs alone?” he finished. He gave me an understanding smile, for which I was grateful.

“Yes, kind of.”

“I'll walk you upstairs, look around, and make sure everything looks okay.”

“Thank you, Sergeant, I appreciate that.”

Beau seemed to sense something bad had happened, and was agreeable to heading back home. We waited quietly as Jacoby checked out my apartment. Everything looked fine. Not that I expected whoever did this to Dottie to be hiding in my closet, but it never hurt to be sure.

I called Destiny Memorial and they told me Dottie was being cared for in the ER and wouldn't be able to have visitors yet. I thanked them then climbed back into bed, allowing Beau to join me for a change. I'd wait until around eight and call Olivia. I had to call Sean, too. But it was too early now. I didn't want to wake either of them up, especially when there was nothing they could do. My thoughts went in a million different directions. Once I called them I was going to head to the hospital, even if I couldn't see Dottie. I had finally begun to fall asleep when my phone went off. I jerked awake, my heart hammering.

“Hello?”

“Sergeant Jacoby. Sorry if I woke you. We're done down here. You can use your car.”

I sat up, trying not to jostle Beau. “Did you find anything?”

“Looks like whoever it was may have used a brick. We found it tossed in the bushes lining Dottie's property. If he was smart, he would've taken it with him.”

“How do you know that's what was used?”

There was silence.

“Sergeant, how do you know?”

“We found some blood and hair attached to the coarse ridges in the brick.”

“Oh my God.”

“That's why I didn't want to tell you. We also found something else.”

“What?”

“A car-tracking device.”

I was confused. “Where?”

“Under your car.”

“What?” I screeched in the poor man's ear.

“I take it you didn't put it there.”

“Of course I didn't put it there. Why would I track myself?”

“Good point. It could've been put there by the person leaving you the notes. I'm taking that in, too.”

My mind was reeling. Someone was tracking me? I was seriously creeped out. And angry. How dare someone track my comings and goings? Who did they think they were?

“You okay, Ms. Tyler?”

“I'm fine, just shocked.”

“I can't say that I blame you. If you see anyone hanging around who looks strange, or out of place, give us a call.”

“I will. Thanks for everything. I'm sure you'll be glad to see our police department back.”

He laughed gruffly. “You got that right. You keep me busy, I'll give you that.”

After our call ended, I glanced at the clock. I must have slept longer than I realized. It was almost eight thirty. I called Olivia.

“Hi,” she answered. “How are the bagels coming? I'll be there in a few.”

“Liv, the most awful thing just happened.”

“What is it? Please don't tell me you got another note.”

“Worse. I went out to walk Beau earlier before leaving for the bakery. I found Dottie lying on the ground. Someone hit her on the head with a brick.”

“Oh my God, Molly. Why? The poor thing!”

“I know! I called 911. She managed to tell me someone was by my car and she had come outside to investigate. Oh, Liv, I feel awful. Why didn't she just stay inside? It's all my fault. If Dottie dies I'll never forgive myself. How will I go on?”

“Don't think like that. She won't die. It was not your fault, unless you commissioned someone to hit her on the head, which I can't imagine. You can do the bagels another time. I'm doing a batch of banana nut cupcakes later this morning. Are you coming in?”

“If you don't mind, I'd like to go see Dottie in the hospital. I'll see if I can find her house keys and lock up for her, too. I'll be in after I see her. I'm sorry about the bagels.”

“Of course I don't mind. I'll manage. We still have leftover bagels from yesterday. I'll pop them in the toaster for people, they'll taste fine. I hope Dottie makes a quick recovery.”

“Thanks, Liv. Me too. See you soon.”

I showered, dressed, fed Beau, then took him for another quick walk. When we returned, I climbed the porch steps and went into Dottie's house. It felt strange being there without her. The only sound came from the huge grandfather clock ticking away in the foyer. I spotted her keys in the bowl on the hall table and grabbed them. I went into the kitchen and looked at the list of people she had on her refrigerator. I didn't see any family members noted. Just doctors and the pharmacy. She had a huge roll top desk in a cove of her living room, but I couldn't bring myself to go through it. Hopefully, she would be alert enough to tell me what family members to call. After locking up, I took Beau back upstairs. I pulled out my phone and texted Sean.
Call me when you can. Important!!!!!
Next, I took off for Destiny Memorial Hospital.

Mrs. Bielstrom, volunteer at the Destiny Memorial information desk, and my former first-grade teacher, was delighted to see me. After I reminded her of who I was, that is. Unfortunately, she then wanted to reminisce about my early leadership skills, like making all the kids line up alphabetically before proceeding outside for recess. I was able to change the subject to my reason for standing at her information desk. She told me Dottie was still being held in the ER until she was assigned a regular room. I thanked her and promised the next time I was in the hospital to stop by and chat.

I made my way to the ER. As I was about to punch the button on the side of the wall so the ER doors would open, they
opened up. The police officer Jacoby had sent to talk to Dottie strode out.

“Excuse me, Officer,” I said. “You were just talking to Dottie Brand, weren't you?”

He stopped, resting one hand on his gun belt. “Hiya. Molly Tyler, right?”

“Yes. Did you see Dottie? Was she able to give you any information?”

“I'm afraid not. She's barely conscious. They gave me three minutes. They made me cool my heels in the waiting area first while they got her settled. Luckily, Mrs. Brand has been here before. I don't mean that in a bad way, just to say the hospital had her next of kin on record. A daughter. I called, but it was a horrible connection. She and her husband are in Turkey on an archaeological dig. At least that's what I think she said. They can't be here until the twenty-sixth.”

“Thanks, officer, I appreciate your doing that.”

“You're welcome. I hope we find the bastard who did this to her. Sorry about the language.”

I smiled at him. “No need. Those are my sentiments exactly.” I hit the button again, and the ER doors swung open again.

“Hi,” I said to the nurse manning the nurse's station, which was positioned in the middle of the ER. “I'm looking for Dottie Brand.”

She smiled at me. “Good morning. Are you a relative?”

“No. She's my landlady. And a friend. I'm the one who found her on the ground.”

The nurse turned serious. “It's a good thing you did. She's a very lucky lady.”

“Is there a chance I can see her? Maybe talk to her for two seconds?”

The nurse gave me a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry . . . ?”

“Molly. Molly Tyler.”

“I'm sorry, Molly. She's having some issues breathing and she has major swelling on her brain. She broke her arm in the fall, too. Right now she's heavily sedated. She won't know you're there.”

A lump rose in my throat. “Issues breathing? That's not good, is it?”

“She's in good hands. Her personal doctor's been notified, too.”

I sighed. “Can I look at her at least?”

The nurse paused for a beat, then her face broke out in a smile again. She got up and motioned for me to follow her. “Sure. Come on.”

I followed her to a small room just a few feet away. I peeked in the door, and my heart plummeted. Dottie's skin looked gray against the white pillow. There was a tube in her nose and various IV tubes in one of her arms. Her blood pressure was being constantly monitored. She looked fragile and helpless. I blinked back tears. “Thank you.”

The nurse laid a hand on my arm. “She has an excellent chance of recovery. Unfortunately, she'll be here over Christmas.”

I dragged my eyes away from Dottie. “Oh no. That's too bad. The police officer that was here said he contacted her
daughter. She'll be here the day after Christmas.”

“I'm glad. Why don't you come tomorrow? She'll probably be in better shape and in her own room.”

“Thank you. I'll do that. Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

“That's why we're here. Why don't you leave your number with me? If there's any serious change I can call you,” the nurse offered as we walked back to the desk area. “By the way, my name is Gudrun.”

“Good run?” I repeated, not sure I'd heard her correctly.

She laughed. “Gudrun. One word. It's German. Don't ask me where my parents came up with it—we're as Irish as that cereal leprechaun.”

I smiled at her. I felt better knowing she was part of the team looking after Dottie. “It's beautiful. I love it. I'm stuck with Molly. How can I be a real grown-up with a name like mine?”

“It's cute. It was nice meeting you. If there are any changes, I'll call.”

“Thanks.”

I left the hospital and walked out to my car. I prayed Dottie would hang on and get stronger every day. The sad part was her spending Christmas day in the hospital. At least her daughter had been notified. I was certain Dottie would be happy to see her.

I turned my phone back on and saw that I had three voice mails. All from Sean. I didn't bother listening—I just called him back.

“Hi. Where have you been? You ask me to call you, and when I do, you don't answer. What's going on, everything okay?”

“Sorry, I was in the hospital and I had to turn off my phone.”

“Why are you in the hospital? What happened to you?”

“Not me. Dottie.”

“What happened to Dottie?”

“Someone hit her on the head with a brick. I found her outside.”

“What? What the hell?”

“I called 911 for an ambulance and the police. Sergeant Jacoby and a couple of Rigby police officers showed up. She's not in good shape, but I think she's going to make it. They found the brick in the bushes. Sean, I really wish you were here. Not just because of Dottie.” I didn't mean to blurt the second part out, but it was true.

“Yeah, wish I was there, too. Not just because of Dottie. That's some nasty business. Poor woman. I'll be home soon.”

“There's something else.”

“Give it to me.”

“Someone put a tracking device on my car. Sergeant Jacoby took it off.”

“That's interesting.”

“Interesting is not the first word that comes to mind.”

“Molly, I'm sorry, I've got to go. I'll call Jacoby. Text me later.”

I agreed to text him, and we said good-bye. At least Sean didn't lecture me about minding my own business and not investigating anything to do with Calista's murder. I took that to mean he was softening his stance on it.

I sat in my car thinking. The issue of Beatrice Travis still tickled my brain. My fingers were mentally crossed that Jane would be in good shape. Maybe she would remember more about Beatrice Travis. I couldn't bring myself to believe she'd made that name up.

My phone rang again as I was about to pull away. It was Sergeant Jacoby. “Hello?”

“We paid a visit to Trey.”

“Did you get him to confess?”

“He didn't assault Dottie.”

“Of course he's going to say that. You don't have to be a
Law & Order
fan to know that.”

He ignored my comment. “He's got an alibi. He had an overnight guest. She swears he was in his house all night. He woke up at seven, they had breakfast, then she left.”

“He could have snuck out of the house without her knowing.”

“Molly, I don't think it's Trey.”

The hair rose on my neck, and I shivered. “Then who?”

“I've got an officer canvassing the neighborhood now to see if anyone saw or heard anything. It's possible it was a random person trying to steal your car. It could be unrelated to the notes.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I know. Except there's not a lot of crime in Destiny. Most people leave their houses and cars unlocked. Before Calista's murder, that is. Thank you for all your efforts. Please let me know if you find anything.”

“I will. Take care.”

I closed my eyes. I didn't blame the sergeant, or Sean, but really? How could they not catch a killer? I reminded myself that only on TV does it take an hour to do so. I had to face the facts that Calista's killer may never be caught, which was a scary feeling. The town would forever be on guard, waiting for them to kill again. Unless Calista had faked her own death for publicity and there was no killer. No, even she was above that. Look at all the people who would have had to have been in on it. Brian included.

I forced myself to stop thinking about it. I wasn't getting anywhere. I was no Nancy Drew. The only thing I had to show for trying to help Sean was a bunch of notes some wacko was writing me. I indulged in two minutes of self-pity. Any more than that and you become morose, not to mention a pain in the neck to be around.

I passed by Calista's house on the way to pick up Jane for Enid's library program. Olivia and I had been busy all day baking cupcakes for the event. We'd delivered them an hour ago, along with some flowers and a nice tablecloth. Olivia and Emily were both coming to Enid's program. My mother was at home entertaining my aunt and uncle, who had arrived today from Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with us. Entertaining my aunt, at least. My father was probably in the den with my uncle watching TV.

I saw lights on in Calista's house. The cousins who were taking over the orchard, I imagined. I stopped and stared at it, trying to imagine her inside, dead. Macabre, I admit. There was no way I could move into a house where I knew someone had been murdered.

I pulled up to Kate and her husband, Ian's, home. I took a moment to admire the Christmas lights they'd strung on the evergreens in their front yard and on the house. I felt a tiny pang of regret that I was no longer married to Brian. But it disappeared. My Brian pangs were getting shorter and shorter. That was a good thing. I reluctantly left the warmth of my car and walked up the front steps.

“Hi, Molly,” Kate greeted me, ushering me in. “Jane will be right down. She is doing so well. Thank you for doing this. It's so sweet of you. Not something Lola would do.” She laughed. “Did I just say that?”

I smiled at her. “I don't think so.”

“Hello, doll,” said Jane, coming slowly down the stairs. “Where are we going again?”

“I've been reminding her every day that you're taking her to the library to see Enid,” Kate whispered.

“I'm not deaf, dear,” Jane admonished Kate. “I heard you. Yes, the library. I love the library. Seeing the woman who writes.”

I bit back a smile while Kate retrieved Jane's coat from the hall closet and helped her slip it on. Then she helped with her hat.

“Yes, that's where we're going, Jane,” I said. “Ready?”

We made our way to the car. We were about fifteen minutes from the library. I didn't want to start grilling her about Enid being Beatrice Travis right away. “I miss seeing you, Molly,” she said. “I know I'm having memory issues. The doctor told me I have a form of damnation.”

I laughed at that. Although she wasn't too far off. “I think you mean dementia. I miss seeing you, too, Jane. I'm sorry you're having problems. But you look great, and the medication really does seem to be helping.”

“Tell me, dear. Who are we seeing again?”

“Enid. Enid Middlebrook.” My perfect chance. “The woman you saw at the bookstore. You told me she was really Beatrice Travis.”

“I did?”

I waited a beat. “You did. What made you think that?”

“Because I'm certain she is. She doesn't look too different. I don't know why she's telling everyone she's Enid . . . Enid . . . whatever her name is.”

“Middlebrook. Did she grow up here?”

Jane didn't answer for a while. I glanced at her; she was staring out the window, but I had the feeling it wasn't the scenery she was seeing.

“When I was young,” she began.

I waited. “What happened when you were young?” I finally prodded.

She laughed softly. “When you're my age, you have so many memories knocking around in your brain, they get all jumbled up. You put people together in a memory that don't belong together at all. What did you ask me?”

“You were saying when you were young,” I reminded her.

“Oh, that's right. Thank you. We lived near a family. They had a daughter named Beatrice.”

“Was she your friend?”

“No. I knew her. I saw her at school, but I belonged to all sorts of clubs. She was shy. She barely spoke to anyone.”

“I bet you had a lot of friends.”

“I did, I did. Most of my childhood friends are dead, or they moved away. Sad.”

“It is sad. But you've still got a lot of friends in Destiny. Are there any Travises still in town? That name doesn't sound familiar.”

“No. When Beatrice and her mother moved away, that was it. She was pregnant, you know.”

I thought it best to just let Jane talk. I didn't want to interrupt her with a lot of questions and risk confusing her. I didn't want to agitate and upset her for one thing, and for another, sometimes you find out more by letting people talk. “Who? Beatrice's mother?” I couldn't help but put in, despite what I just said.

“No, no. Beatrice herself. I don't know what happened after that. She moved away. I think the father's name was Max, if I recall correctly.”

My heart sped up. “Max Danforth?”

She looked at me, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why, yes, that does sound familiar. How did you know that?”

“After you mentioned Enid was Beatrice Travis, I did some research. I found out that Max Danforth had stolen Peter Travis' novel. It was rumored that Peter killed himself over it. I think that's what you were trying to tell me at the bookstore that day.”

“Yes. Poor Peter. The Danforths always win. Except Calista. She was killed, wasn't she?”

“Yes.”

Jane was silent for a while. We were almost to the library. “I find it bizarre that Max would be Beatrice's baby's father,”
I said. “He stole her father's novel. He was a lot older than Beatrice. Why would she be interested in Max? He was married, wasn't he?”

“Humph. When has that stopped anyone? Maybe he didn't tell her. I may be confused most of the time, but I'm not stupid. That was the rumor. I don't know if it was true. Max was a good-looking man.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the headrest. “So long ago. Everything was so long ago.”

I let her rest. If Enid was Beatrice and Max was Chase's father . . . But again, why would Enid say she'd never been in Destiny before? Was she lying? Ashamed of the scandal of her teenage pregnancy? How come no one else recognized her? Why was I worried about something that probably had nothing to do with anything? I needed a life. I didn't even care if it was a good one; any life would do.

I pulled into the library parking lot. It was full already, so I parked at the far end of the lot. I was still absorbing what Jane had said, but I put it aside for now and got out of the car. I helped Jane get out, and we made it across the parking lot. I was glad I had worn the hat Dottie had knit me and my favorite warm gloves; it was freezing out.

I saw Olivia chatting with Emily and some other people when we entered. I was happy when so many of Jane's friends came up to her. I could tell she didn't recognize all of them, but it was nice to see she hadn't been forgotten.

If you weren't an Enid fan and wanted to hit the outlet mall, this was the night to do it. The whole town must have been stuffed into the library.

I waved to Olivia when I saw her, then Jane and I wound our way through the crowd to her. “You don't mind sitting with my friends, do you?”

“Not at all, doll. I'll just follow you. Where's Kate?”

“She didn't come. Remember, I picked you up?”

“Oh, of course.”

“Hi,” chirped Olivia. She smiled at Jane. “Hello, Mrs. Addair.”

“Hello. Don't I know you?”

“Yes, I own the Bread and Batter Bakery with Molly. You've been in several times.”

“Bakery? I don't remember at the moment. I'm sure it will come to me. Where's this woman we're supposed to see?” Jane twisted her neck to look around.

“She'll be here soon.” I helped her take off her coat and hat.

“I hope so. I've got a hair appointment in half an hour.”

Oh boy. I hoped I hadn't made a mistake in bringing her. Kate was experienced at helping her. I wasn't. “It's nighttime. We're here to see Enid Middlebrook. Your hair appointment must be tomorrow, don't you think?”

“I'm not sure. Is my hair looking bad?” she gasped, and reached a hand up to pat it.

“No. Not at all,” I rushed to assure her. “You just mentioned a hair appointment.”

She laughed nervously. “Why did I do that? How silly of me. It's very kind of you to bring me. I love the library.”

“I'm glad you came. I think you'll enjoy Enid's program. Maybe when it's over we can say hello to Enid.”

Jane nodded. People began taking their seats, and as Enid made her way to the front of the semicircle of chairs that radiated out of the corner of the library where the study tables were usually set up, the murmur and buzz from the crowd quieted.

Enid stood behind the podium, dressed in her yellow sweater. She began by announcing she had decided to write a new book. The way applause broke out you'd think she'd announced she was handing everyone a thousand dollars and a new car. She waited until it was quiet again, glowing in the admiration. “The bad news is I'm leaving town in a couple of days. I've got lots of research to do for this book. It takes place in Peru.”

This time there was no applause, just a collective groan. I glanced at Jane, who, like everyone else, seemed enthralled by Enid. As Enid began speaking on the research it took to write a book, and how her life as a writer started, my mind wandered to poor Dottie in the hospital.

I was yanked from my reverie two seconds later by Jane, who shot up from her chair. “You!” She thrust a finger at Enid. “You killed Calista Danforth. I saw you! Murderer! You were wearing the same yellow sweater you have on now. You killed that woman! You're not Enid. You're Beatrice Travis. I remember you!”

As soon as I recovered from my shock, I jumped to my feet, putting an arm around Jane's shoulders. “Shhh. She didn't kill Calista, Jane. Maybe you're confusing her with a character in one of her books. They probably kill people all the time.” I looked around. Everyone's eyes were on us. Yes, we'd definitely stolen Enid's thunder.

I smiled at Enid apologetically. “I'm sorry. She'll be fine.”

Not that Enid looked particularly concerned about Jane. Her mouth was drawn in a tight seam. She'd folded her arms in front of herself, and her icy blue eyes were pinned on Jane. “Well, this is more fascinating than anything I can talk about, isn't it?”

The audience was so quiet I was sure everyone must be holding their breath. “Mrs. Middlebrook, I'm . . . I'm terribly sorry,” I sputtered. “I'll take her home.”

Jane had sunk back down to the chair. She rubbed her temples. I sat back down, too. “I think we better go,” I said to her.

“Is she all right?” Olivia whispered.

I turned toward Molly. “I don't know. I don't think she should stay.”

Olivia nodded her head. “Probably not. Sorry you have to go. Are you coming back? There's the reception after. Enid's agreed to sign books.”

“I'll be back. I don't want to leave you to clean up the snack table by yourself. Watch my purse?”

Olivia frowned at me. “What about your driver's license?”

“I have it in the change holder attached to my house key chain.”

“Okay. See you when you get back.”

I'm sure it was my imagination, but as I made my way out with Jane and our paraphernalia of coats and hats, it felt as if everyone had turned from Enid and was staring at us. Despite most people in Destiny loving Jane and knowing about her
mental state, I have to confess, it didn't make what happened any less embarrassing.

“I know she killed that woman. I'm no fool,” Jane said, a little louder than I'd have liked, as I helped her on with her coat. “Why aren't you calling the police?”

I sighed. “Honey, how is that possible? She wouldn't kill Calista. How would she manage that? She's your age, or near. I certainly can't picture you killing anyone.” I took her arm, and we walked out the door into the freezing night.

We were almost to the car when she stopped. “Call the police. I'll tell them. I'll tell them all about Beatrice and how she . . . Oh my. What was I saying, doll?”

“Excuse me, ladies.”

The deep voice startled me. I turned and saw Chase coming toward us, like an apparition emerging from the cold, foggy dark. I hadn't noticed him anywhere in the library. His camel hair coat billowed out around him in the wind. He had to be freezing like that.

“Hello, Mr. Middlebrook. Chase. I need to get Jane to the car. It's cold out here. I'm sorry about the interruption. Nice seeing you.”

“I'm not sorry,” announced Jane, refusing to budge. “Your mother killed Calista. I saw her.”

I put my arm around her shoulders. “Jane, it's okay. We're going home.” I gave Chase a “sorry, what can I do?” look.

He ignored me and stared at Jane, a grimace stretching his lips. “Yes, Jane. I know.”