Critical Impact (10 page)

He pulled into visitor parking and got out. If Marg were there visiting her husband, then Stu could talk with the two of them.

He thought at first that the woman bending over Johnny's bed and kissing his cheek while he stroked her arm was Marg. But when she stood up and faced him, he saw that she was someone else. This woman was slender and blonde. Shimmery earrings dangled below her chin-length hair. She was wearing a pink business suit and heels. Stu thought he recognized her as the reporter who was outside the police station a few days ago. She held the back of her hand to her mouth, clearly embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising position.

Stu thought about what Liz had said, that Johnny was a philanderer. Stu had not believed Liz. But here was the evidence.

Johnny broke the silence. “This is Chloe. She works for the Augusta TV station.”

Stu nodded. “Hello. I've seen you.”

“She's very good,” Johnny said. “She was just dropping off some papers for me to go over. From the TV station. She's arranging another press conference. Do you know she single-handedly got that press conference set up? She's a little go-getter.”

“Johnny,” Chloe said, “I've got to be going.”

After Chloe left, Stu just stood there.

“It's not what you think,” Johnny said.

“I'm not thinking anything. What you do with your life is your own business.” Johnny hooked his finger, motioning Stu to come closer. When Stu was within whispering distance,
Johnny said, “Listen, Stu, it's time you knew some thing about Marg. Marg is a great woman. I love her to death. I really do, but I married her when I was a different person. I've moved on and she's stayed behind. And lately, all she thinks about is her stupid church. She won't do anything without her church's permission. The minister has Marg under his thumb, along with every other member. It's dangerous, and I've tried to reason with her, but it does no good. She's set in her ways, and I can't change them. I've already told her that if she does not want to be my wife I will look elsewhere.”

Stu had always admired Johnny and Marg. He had spent so many evenings in their home. But then he tried to remember. When was the last time he had been invited to supper with Marg and Johnny? It had been a good nine months to a year. He knew Marg was going to church somewhere. It wasn't the church that he went to. There weren't that many churches in Whisper Lake Crossing. “What church is she going to?”

“Some church on Dragon Mountain Road. I've never been there. Have no desire to go.”

Dragon Mountain Road. Up past Dragon Mountain Road was where he mountain-biked. There was a cement building up there with a sign outside the front that referred to some sort of a church, but Stu had never paid much attention to it.

“When did Marg start going to this church?” Stu asked.

“It has to be almost a year ago now. And it's not a church, it's a cult. I've tried to use my influence in City Hall to get it shut down. But Dragon Mountain is just outside the city limits.”

Stu was sure that Johnny was deftly changing the subject, deftly trying to move the blame for his behavior from him to some church, but he let Johnny talk. “I mean it, when somebody starts talking about crime and terror as if this is God's judgment or God's doing it, that's the day I walk out of church and don't go back.”

Stu did want to remind Johnny that even though his wife was mixed up in a church group, that didn't give him the right to go out and have affairs, but he didn't. Stu asked, “How are you feeling, Johnny?”

“Getting better. A little bit at a time.”

“I came to ask you about enemies. I came to ask who you think might have set that bomb. Liz gave you a list of people with beefs against City Hall. Have you had a chance to go over that list yet?”

“I thought you made an arrest in that case, so why do you need this list?”

“Just clearing up some loose ends,” Stu replied.

Later, when Stu stood by the elevator, he remembered the man in green scrubs who had stared at him so intently on his first visit here. He shook off that memory and headed for home.

His thoughts roiling, he turned into the long driveway that led past the Seeley mansion and down to his cottage. A silver car was parked in the far corner of Marg's circular driveway. He stared at it. Then pulled in beside it and went to have a look at it. He jotted down the license number. It was from out of state.

The front door opened and Marg came out. “Nice car, Marg. I didn't know you got a new one.”

Hands wringing, Marg told him the car belonged to her new boarder.

“You have a boarder?” he asked.

She nodded. “He's staying in the apartment in the basement.”

It was funny that Johnny didn't mention this when he was there. “How long has your boarder been here?”

Marg shrugged and looked away when she said, “Oh, a few days now.”

“Who is it?”

“Just someone from my church who needed a place to stay.”

“What's his name? Can I meet him?”

Marg seemed cagey when she said, “You can knock on his door, but I don't think he'll answer. When he gets busy with his study and work, he doesn't seem to answer.”

Stu went to the basement door and knocked. Just as Marg had said, there was no answer. The basement apartment, which had never been rented out in the
two years Stu had lived here, had a number of small windows at ground level. He walked past each one. They were all curtained shut.

Marg was standing by the front door and said, “I don't know him very well. He might be out for a walk. He often walks along the beach or hikes.”

“He's not answering his door. How about if I sit on your porch and wait for him?”

“Sometimes he's gone for hours, Stu. I don't know where he goes. I could tell him you're looking for him.” She kept her eyes averted as she spoke. Her eyes looked wet and she sniffed several times. Stu thought about the woman he'd seen in Johnny's hospital room and felt sorry for her. He wished he could help.

Did Marg have any idea who that woman was? Stu doubted it, but he also had a feeling that Marg suspected something, knew something. And he wondered what all of this had to do with the bombing.

A
nna sat on the porch swing and tried not to think about the fact that the last time she was in this spot, Stu was with her. As he'd gently moved the swing back and forth with his foot, they'd drunk lemonade and talked and talked. It was warm that evening as they had watched the sun go down.

It was too cool and windy to be sitting outside now, but somehow the cold felt good. She watched one maple leaf skitter across the front lawn. Beyond it the flag on the pole down by the lake stood flat out in the wind. Next to her on the seat, the pages of her Bible fluttered in the breeze. She put her hand on the cover to still it. Earlier she had read a passage in Psalms that gave her some comfort. David was blamed for things he didn't do. He'd been angry about that, really seething at God, and yet he was called “a man after God's own heart.”

God, I don't know why I'm in this position right now,
she prayed.
But if there's something for me to
learn, help me to get over my anger and frustration and learn it.

She gazed out at the lake, waves skidding across its surface. The hollow wooden tubes of the wind chimes echoed loudly in the wind. Every time she looked at them, she had a strange inkling that there was something about the wind chimes that was important. She couldn't bring up to the surface of her consciousness what it was, though. The chimes were old, and had seen many Maine winters. She couldn't remember a time when they weren't hung from that hook on this corner of this porch.

She hugged her mother's woolen sweater around her and put the Bible on her lap to keep the pages from flapping. The night she had fallen in the bathroom, she had heard the faint sounds of the wind chimes. She had fallen back to sleep then. The next time she got up her bell was gone, her water glass was empty and she had crashed into glass on the bathroom floor.

That night when she and Stu drank lemonade on the porch was a still night. Stu had even commented on it. Yet, during that night she had heard the faint, hollow sound of the wind chimes. That meant that someone, or something, had caused the wind chimes to sound that night. And if it was a someone, it was someone who had come in from the outside, someone who knew her mother never locked the front door, someone who knew about her bell and her glass of water and her pills.

She knew someone was deliberately framing her. Someone had purposely walked up on the porch and bumped into the wind chimes before coming inside the house. Was it someone who didn't know the wind chimes were there? Possibly.

Peter? But why?

She needed to do some more research on her own. Since the police had taken her computer, she would go where there were computers.

She took her Bible inside, grabbed her keys from her nightstand and walked out to her car.

The Schooner Café had WiFi access, plus a couple of computers along the back wall for use by patrons. She ordered a large house-blend coffee and sat down at one of the computers.

Marlene, the owner of the café, came over, took the seat beside her, put her hand on Anna's left arm and said, “How are you doing, my dear?” There was real concern in her eyes.

Anna said, “Just dandy.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Actually,” Anna said, “I'm not doing as bad as you might think. I'll be okay. I know I will. I had a good talk with God this morning. I'm just trying to figure a few things out.”

“Well, that's good. I've been praying for you, honey. I should think the police would be working overtime to prove that you had nothing to do with the bombing.
These charges are ridiculous. Everybody in Whisper Lake knows it. Everyone in the church does, too.”

“Thank you.” Anna knew she had the support of the people in town.

Marlene's eyes narrowed, as if she were thinking hard about something. “What's the matter?” Anna asked.

“You have one of those brochures,” Marlene said. Next to the computer was the Dragon Mountain Church brochure. Anna intended to do more research into it, as well. Marlene picked it up. “I know this church. These brochures have been left around here on tables. Someone from this church even wanted to put up a poster here. I said no.”

Anna said, “My aunt has been going there. So has Marg Seeley.”

“I work here. I know all the gossip about that place.” Marlene lowered her voice. “I can't help but think that Marg Seeley is on the verge of some sort of nervous breakdown or something.”

“Really?”

“I have this feeling that Marg knows something about the bombing, and that it's scaring her to death. Maybe she is even protecting someone.”

“Really? You should talk to Alec or Stu about that.”

“What would I say? It's just an impression, woman's intuition. About a year or so ago, Marg came to me. She was thinking about leaving Johnny because
he was cheating on her. I told her to go and talk to the pastor. I mean, I'm no marriage counselor. Shortly after that she hooks up with Dragon Mountain Church. And she and Johnny stayed together, so I just assumed they'd worked things out.” Marlene lowered her voice. “I know your aunt goes there, too. Maybe she could help Marg through whatever it is she's trying to work through.”

Anna said, “And you think this has something to do with the bombing?”

“I feel that Marg either knows something, is protecting someone or is afraid for her life. And I sort of…” Marlene bit her lower lip. “I sort of have a feeling that you are in some kind of danger.”

Anna shrugged and gave Marlene a bit of a smile. She had a broken arm, no job and she'd been arrested for murder. What else could possibly happen to her? She said, “You don't know the half of it. Right now, though, all I can do is do what I can do and leave the rest in God's hands.”

“That's a good attitude,” Marlene said, rising and patting Anna's shoulders. “How's the arm, anyway?”

Anna looked up at her. “Oh, you mean the least of my worries?” she said, lifting her right arm. “It's getting better, I think. I have an appointment in a few days to get it looked at. I'll know more then.”

“I'll be praying for that, too.” Marlene patted Anna on the shoulder and left.

Anna called it the least of her worries, yet even now her arm ached. She could barely move her fingers at the end of her cast. She also tried not to think about the fact that there was such a long haul before she would be any better.

 

Stu was driving through Whisper Lake Crossing when he saw Anna's car parked at the Schooner Café. Good. He wanted to talk to her. He drove around the side and parked between two pickups. He chirped his car door lock in time to see Anna get in her own car and drive away.

He called after her, but of course she couldn't see him, much less hear him. It also appeared that Anna was deep in thought. She was probably on her way home. Stu would backtrack and follow her.

He watched her car take the exit out of town. Quickly he got into his car, and turned and followed her as she drove out of town.

There were a few cars separating his car from Anna's. Maybe that was good. If she knew he was following her, then she might speed up or flee. He kept driving, and followed Anna's car as she headed out onto the highway.

“Anna, Anna, where are you going?” he said out loud. A panel truck separated their cars now, which again was a good thing. It would be hard for Anna to see his car in her rearview mirror. Every once
in a while, he caught a glimpse of her and that was enough.

It was windy on the highway and his little car rocked to and fro a few times. Along the side of the highway, scrub brush danced frantically in the wind. She was going to Shawnigan. There was no doubt about that now. Her right blinker was on. She took the first exit to Shawnigan.

He followed her down the same exit. He wondered if she was going to visit Rodney or one of her other students. Or maybe she had an appointment with someone at the college about returning to work. He half expected her to take the turn that led to the community college.

She didn't.

Instead, he found himself following her along the main street next to the railroad tracks, which led to City Hall. By now he was pretty sure she knew he was behind her. He had seen her glance up at her rearview mirror a few times. When she parked next to the blasted-out City Hall building, he pulled up right beside her. She looked over at him, frowned and turned back to her steering wheel without expression.

He watched her get out of her car and walk over to the building. Back still to him, she made her way to the part of the stone fountain that had not been razed by the bomb blast. She sat down on one edge of the fountain and looked fixedly into the broken building. She did not turn to see if he followed her.

He held back. For a while he stood beside his car and looked at the building. Even though he had driven past this place many times the previous week, this time he allowed himself to really look at it, maybe through her eyes.

What did she see when she looked at the ruins of this building?

A place where she almost died?

Much of the building was boarded up and surrounded by yellow crime-scene tape, the edges of which blew noisily in the strong breeze. It looked like a giant cutaway, with rooms clearly visible. Much of the furniture was still there. Stu knew that Forensics was still going over it, bit by bit and piece by piece. He was surprised that no one was here now, warning Anna away and telling her she was too close, that she wasn't allowed to be here.

Stu went over and sat down beside her.

“What are you doing here?” she said without looking at him. “Don't you know I'm a criminal?”

“Anna…”

“I'm a felon. I should be in jail. Just ask anyone you work with.”

“Why did you come here, of all places?” Stu looked at her profile. Her eyes under her glasses were filling with tears. Right now he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything would be okay.

“I came here,” she said, looking at the building, “because I was hoping it would help me remember
something. I remembered about the wind chimes today and I thought maybe coming here would help me remember about what happened.”

He looked at her curiously. “What wind chimes?”

“On the night that I fell onto the glass windowpane, I heard the wind chimes on my mother's porch. I heard them quite distinctly. But that was a still night. Not like now. So, I think that the windowpane was put there by someone who came onto the porch from the outside.”

Stu listened. “I remember. It wasn't windy that night at all.” He thought about that, wondered at the significance. He turned to her. She was looking at him square on. He asked her, “Was this what you came here to remember?”

She looked back at the building and shook her head. “I didn't do it, you know. I wish you would believe me….”

Stu was about to say what he had come here to say when she went on. “There was someone running,” she said. “My mind was so distracted that morning. Johnny was walking in with me and I didn't really like being with him very much. So I was concentrating on getting away from him because I had a lot on my mind. I wanted to talk to Hilary. She was having problems, and I was holding my coffee and had a million things to do.”

Stu waited.

“I don't think this bombing has to do with me. I think I just got in the way of what was really happening. This has to do with Johnny Seeley and Hilary Jonas.”

“In what way?” he asked. A patch of sunlight shimmered down on the two of them from a narrow break in the clouds. There were freckles on Anna's nose that he'd never noticed before. He found himself staring at them. Their faces were so close that for one moment he wanted to take that face between his hands and kiss her.

She took something out of her pocket, unfolded it and handed it to him. “I found this at Marg's house. She had a pile of them. She was working on her church's Web site.”

He took the threefold brochure from her. It was for a new church in Whisper Lake Crossing. The address was Dragon Mountain, where he always biked.

Anna said, “I went on the church Web site, and a lot of it is very confusing. There is this constant talk about ‘getting rid of evil, getting rid of evil.' It's like a broken record and I really didn't know what it meant. I didn't know how they were going to rid the world of evil. Well, I clicked through some links. It looks like what they advocate is ‘praying hard for God's judgment to fall.'” She took back the brochure and pointed to a Web link on the back of the brochure. “And I found out that they look at natural disasters
and man-made disasters as evidence of this judgment, and thus, getting rid of evil and evil people.”

“That's kind of dangerous thinking,” Stu said.

“This link talks about global disasters—fires and volcanoes—and about how specifically they are God's judgment. I was looking this up on the Web at the Schooner Café. Since I can't write anything, I tried to memorize as much as I could.”

Stu nodded.

“Actually, I got into a Members Only section of the Web site that explained all this. It's not out there for the general public.”

“How'd you get in?”

“I figured my aunt Lois was a member, so I used her e-mail address, and then I clicked on the ‘Forgot Your Password?' link. It wasn't a very secure site, and within moments I was able to change both my aunt's e-mail and her password.”

“Don't you think she'll notice?”

Anna shook her head. “She and my mother share a computer. She's not on it all that much. But the Web site lists specific disasters and names specific people that God supposedly wanted to ‘judge.' It was horrific. And the Web site specifically mentioned Johnny Seeley as someone who God wanted to judge.”

“Anna.” Stu stared at her. “This is important.”

“I know. It proves that some people weren't too unhappy about his being caught up in the bombing, but it still doesn't prove who did it.”