Classic Revenge (15 page)

Larry smiled patiently. "I don't know if a judge and
jury would consider that sufficient proof. I will agree
with you, however, that it is an interesting turn of events"

Millie laughed delightedly. "You do believe us!"

"Just let me do my job, Millie." But the grin on
Larry's face didn't take anything away from his stern
warning.

Lewis walked into the kitchen just then carrying his
case. "I'm all finished here. I'm sorry about the mess,
but it's a necessary evil. You can just vacuum up the
black powder and then wipe it down."

"You mean I have to clean it up?" Millie asked incredulously. "That's not fair!"

"I know, ma'am. That's just another outrage a criminal causes"

"We'll help you, Millie," Edna said hurriedly, anticipating Millie giving a lecture to the officer about his duty
to protect and serve. Millie's lips were pressed firmly together in disapproval, but at least she didn't say anything
more.

They all three walked with Larry and Lewis to the
front door. "I'll keep in touch," Larry said. "In the meantime, get that glass pane repaired." Suddenly, he stopped
and faced them. "You all need to keep your eyes open
and stay alert. Call us immediately if you see anything
suspicious. And ... do not do anything on your own. Do
you understand?"

Just then Edna spotted Joe leaving their house and
walking toward Millie's. "We understand. Have a
good day!" She waved good-bye while she and Millie backed up into the house. Trish understood immediately. It wouldn't do for Joe and Larry to get into a conversation before they had a chance to explain to Joe why
they were on such friendly terms with the detective.

Larry raised both eyebrows, and Trish held her breath.
Finally, with a small sigh, he turned and followed Lewis
to his car. Larry had the engine running when Joe passed
them, but, thankfully, Joe just nodded as he walked up the
front sidewalk.

"Hello, Joe," Millie said as she opened the door wider.
"Come on in and have some coffee. Did you get to talk
to Sam?"

Joe planted a quick kiss on Edna's cheek as he followed them into the kitchen. "Yes, I did. And I told him
that I have the house key. I came over to tell you that I
called a glass company and they should be here within
the hour to replace the pane in your door. Were those
gentlemen here to take fingerprints?"

Edna nodded and sat at the table. "They sure left a
mess, though. What did Sam have to say?"

Joe lowered his long frame into a chair. "Well, for
starters, he told me about your visit to him the other
morning." He thanked Millie for the coffee and then sat
back, obviously waiting for explanations.

"Uh-oh," Millie muttered as she turned away to get
the cream and sugar.

My thoughts exactly, Trish mused. She turned her eyes
to Edna, wondering if she would want to start the explanation, setting the tone on how best to handle her husband. And, Edna, bless her soul, did just that ... with
complete honestly.

Edna proceeded to tell Joe, in a matter-of-fact, calm
voice, about their early suspicions, what they had dis covered so far, little as it may be, their discussions with
law officials, and ending with Millie's stolen address
book. Nobody interrupted her, not even Millie. And, to
his credit, Joe sat listening attentively, not one trace of
impatience or belittlement ever crossing his face.

Trish watched the exchange with envy. Edna held
nothing back, not even the real fear the women had felt
while in Sam's house that day. This was a conversation
between a husband and wife who truly loved and respected each other, something Trish had never shared
with her own husband, or The Rat as she had resorted to
calling him ever since the divorce-which explained
why she wasn't still married, she thought wryly.

When Edna finished, she took a sip of her coffee and
then leaned her elbows on the table. "What do you
think, dear?"

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his
head. "I think you may be on to something."

Just then, Millie let out a hoop and a holler that would
have made any sports enthusiast jealous. "I knew you'd
believe us, Joe! Edna, you've got a good man there.
Make sure you hold on to him." Trish hid a grin behind
her hand. After forty-five years of marriage and two
grown sons, she thought Edna was doing a pretty good
job of holding on to her husband.

"What I was also going to say," Joe said with a pointed
look at Millie, "is that you may be going about it all
wrong."

Millie's face fell as she looked curiously at Joe. "How
can you say that, after all we've uncovered?"

"You haven't actually uncovered anything," Joe said
patiently. "What you've got so far is only a guess, albeit
a reasonable guess," he said with a hand held up to forestall Millie's interruption, "but you don't have any
real proof. Why didn't you come to me with any of
this? You know I don't believe Sam is guilty, either."

Edna gave her husband a tender smile as she reached
across the table to squeeze his hand. "I didn't want to
worry you at this early stage, but when it started getting
down to the nitty-gritty, I definitely would have included you."

"Well, I think it's getting down to the 'nitty-gritty'
now, don't you? If Millie's address book was stolen by
the same person that killed Susan Riley, then it's become downright dangerous. We need to turn this information over to the police and let them do their job, and
then we need to call Sam's attorney"

"We already have," Millie said stubbornly. "Henry
doesn't believe us, but that nice detective, Larry Thompson, might. Anyway, he's agreed to keep an open mind.
Personally, I think he believes we're a little wacky."

Joe's eyes sparkled. "Now, why would he think that?"

"Joe, be serious!" Edna said, shaking her head. "We
don't have enough evidence to back up our suspicion to
go to the attorney, and we're going to need some cold,
hard facts before we go to the police again. That's what
we're trying to get. And, according to recent events, I'd
say we're on the right track"

Joe sat quietly for a moment. "If it's any consolation,
Sam is starting to believe you. There was real fire in his
eyes when he talked about the possibility that someone
is setting him up. It seems that having his safe broken
into after what happened to Susan is just too much of a
coincidence for him to swallow."

"Good," Trish said fervently. "The last time we saw
him he showed almost no emotion. If he's getting an gry, then it's a good sign. Maybe now he'll be able to
think of something that can help." Trish certainly
hoped so. She had a feeling they didn't have much time.

"I agree," Joe said with a nod. "But, from this point on,
ladies, you need to let the police handle it. Look at what
happened to Millie! I won't have my wife and close
friends putting themselves in harm's way any longer."

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Millie looked
down at her clasped hands, Trish looked down into her
coffee cup, and Edna looked at Joe. "We won't be putting ourselves in danger. You're going to help us. And
we've got Larry to help, also. We're not going to sit idly
by while months pass, waiting for Sam to be able to clear
his name. He should be able to grieve for his wife without having this awful charge hanging over his head"
Edna voice was deceptively soft, her expression firm.

"I don't want that, either."

"I know that, dear, and that's why you're going to
help. I promise you that we will be extremely careful
and include you in everything we do. We may not be
able to discover anything at all to back up our theory,
but we're going to at least try. And anything relevant
will be turned over to the police. I give you my word."

Joe looked at his wife for several long seconds and
then shook his head, his voice resigned when he spoke.
"Okay, we'll give this a try, but only if you keep your
promise to involve the authorities when the time comes.
And, I want to know everything that's going on. There
will be no more meetings with the chief, or the detective, or anybody else unless I know about it. Are we all
agreed?"

"Agreed," the ladies replied in unison.

Just then the doorbell rang. Joe went to answer it and returned with the repairman to fix Millie's door. While
Joe watched over the glass replacement, the three women
set about cleaning up all the black dust left by Lewis'
fingerprint work. When they had finished and the repairman had left, Joe brought up the point that it wasn't a
good idea for Millie to stay alone in the big house.

"Nonsense," Millie said blithely, "this is my home
and nobody is going to chase me out of it! Anyway, the
thief won't be back," she said with certainty. "He already got what he came for."

Joe raised his eyebrows. "Remember, your theory
that Susan's killer broke in here to get Sam's combination is only that-a theory. What if he was here to steal
more, but wasn't able to because you woke up? He
could very well be back"

Millie just shrugged nonchalantly. "I have a gun."

Trish groaned as Joe's eyebrows rose further. "What?"

"Actually, it's a rifle, but it isn't loaded. Do you think
I'm crazy?"

Trish hoped Joe wouldn't reply. The answer was definitely debatable.

Joe stood with his hands on his hips as he glowered
at Millie. "No guns-is that understood? If you want
my help ... no guns!"

Millie stared at Joe, a battle of wills, but thankfully
he didn't back down. Finally, Millie sighed. "Okaybut I would only use it to scare somebody. I wouldn't
shoot them!"

"No guns."

"I said 'okay'!"

"And I don't want you staying alone right now. Either someone spends the night over here, or you go
somewhere else. It's only temporary, Millie, and it doesn't mean you're being chased out of your home.
It's called being practical."

Practical wasn't a word Trish would normally associate with Millie, but, nevertheless, sensing no help
from her friends, she agreed, even though it was plainly
under protest.

It took most of Monday morning for the women to convince Joe that they were more than capable of questioning Mark Wilson on their own. Joe had a pre-scheduled
bowling game with some old friends he was only able
to see occasionally. There was no point in his canceling
just to watch over them when they would be surrounded
by people in broad daylight, they argued. Finally, after
another stern warning to be careful, Joe left for his appointment.

Not knowing exactly when Mark took his lunch
break, they arrived around eleven o'clock and settled
back to wait in the parking lot. Trish parked between
two nondescript vans on the second row so they were
well hidden-not that anybody would be expecting to
see them, but, as they were all very aware, they had
to be cautious in all their moves from here on out.

Suddenly, Millie shouted, "Duck!"

Without questioning Millie's outburst, Edna slid down in the back seat while Trish dived sideways.
"Ouch!" she yelled as her head collided with Millie's.
"That hurt!"

"Oh, hush," Millie muttered. "Your head's harder than
mine. I should be the one yelling!"

"Why are we ducking?" Edna whispered.

"Mark just came out the front door," Millie whispered back.

Trish struggled to sit up, rubbing the side of her
head. "For goodness' sake, Millie! He can't see us from
there, and we need to see where he's going."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Millie said in a hushed
voice. "I guess I just got a little panicked."

"And stop whispering!" Trish said between clenched
teeth. "He certainly can't hear us"

"Okay!" Millie shouted, causing all of them to jump.
"Any other orders?"

Edna startled giggling as she sat up straight. "I'd say
we're a little tense, wouldn't you?"

Trish just shook her head and looked out her window.
"Where did he go?"

"In that red pickup truck over there," Millie said,
motioning with her head. Quickly, she exchanged her
regular glasses for dark sunglasses, pulled down the
sun visor in front of her, and fastened her seat belt.
"Let's go"

Trish cocked both eyebrows and looked at her for a
moment. She wouldn't be surprised if Millie also carried a decoder ring and a secret phone in the bottom of
her red tennis shoe. Millie sighed impatiently. "Let's
goy"

The pickup truck was pulling out of the parking lot.
Trish slowly fell in behind, following at a safe distance. They didn't have far to go. Mark Wilson turned into a
nearby strip center and parked in front of a busy cafe
advertising daily lunch specials on the front glass. "Joe
and I have eaten here before," Edna said. "The food is
really good, and they're famous for their apple pie."

Trish's stomach rumbled its own opinion. Guiltily, she
thought about her twice-used exercise equipment at
home, but then shoved the thought from her mind. She
was working, for goodness' sake. She needed the energy.
Besides, who in their right mind would pass up apple
pie?