Foal Play: A Mystery (7 page)

Colleen felt her heart pounding in her chest. She squeezed the hammer, the muscles in her forearm and biceps tightening. She held her breath. The clock on the mantel in the living room ticked quietly. Colleen felt her intruder’s presence on the other side of the door. What was he doing out there? She pressed her ear to the door to see if she could hear what he was up to.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Colleen jerked back. “Colleen McCabe, open this door!”

Colleen threw the porch light switch on and yanked open the door, the hammer still raised in her right hand. Standing before her, hair wildly askew, face filthy, clothes in disarray and slightly singed, was Myrtle Crepe. To Colleen, Myrtle looked like a troll doll she had had as a child. The two women stood, frozen for a second, staring at one another.

“You’re alive!” Colleen finally said with genuine enthusiasm, lowered the hammer, and seized Myrtle in a hug.

“For heaven’s sake, let me go!” Myrtle screamed.

Colleen released Myrtle. “I thought you were dead.”

“Aren’t you going to let me in?!” Myrtle screamed again.

“You don’t have to yell.”

Myrtle squinted at Colleen and tilted an ear toward her. “What? Speak up!”

Colleen suddenly realized what was going on. Myrtle had been near her home when it exploded. No wonder she was shouting. She was having trouble hearing.

“Why don’t you come in?” Colleen said.

“What?!”

“Come in!” Colleen said, raising her voice, and motioned for Myrtle to enter.

“It’s about time!” Myrtle yelled and stepped inside.

Colleen surveyed her yard, still concerned about an intruder, then closed the front door and locked it. She walked toward the kitchen and signaled Myrtle to follow. Sparky trailed Myrtle, sniffing her smoky clothes as he went. Colleen removed a glass from a cabinet and held it near the filtered-water dispenser on the refrigerator door to indicate to Myrtle she was offering a glass of water.

“Thank you!” Myrtle said, still speaking loudly.

Colleen filled the glass, handed it to Myrtle, and studied her as she guzzled the water. Myrtle’s hand was shaking and she needed medical attention, but the bottom line was Myrtle was alive. Relief washed over Colleen with every gulp Myrtle took. She hadn’t sent her former teacher to her death! But then who had the coroner taken away? Myrtle finished the water and handed Colleen the glass.

“Another?” Colleen asked.

“You trying to drown me?”

Colleen couldn’t help but smile. The explosion hadn’t knocked Myrtle’s sass out of her. She put the glass in the sink. “Come on,” she said, motioning Myrtle out of the room.

She led Myrtle into the living room and gestured for her to sit in a high-back chair. Colleen sat on a nearby ottoman as Myrtle tried to tame her wild hair.

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Myrtle said, this time at a more normal volume.

Good, Colleen thought, Myrtle’s hearing was coming back. “I’m calling the station. Just to be sure,” she said, moving toward the phone.

Myrtle clutched Colleen’s arm and held on tight. Colleen turned back, surprised. She could have easily broken Myrtle’s grip but it was the pleading look in Myrtle’s eyes that stopped her from pulling away and reaching for the phone. She sat on the ottoman and Myrtle released her.

“Myrtle,” she said, this time more gently, “you need someone to check you out.”

“Then you do it.”

Colleen sighed. Very well. She got up, retrieved a medical kit from the closet in the kitchen, rolled the ottoman closer to Myrtle, opened the case, and removed a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. She held out the cuff but hesitated in midair. Other than grabbing Myrtle’s arm when the man with the gun had appeared earlier this evening, she had never touched her teacher before. Touching Myrtle was somehow like touching a nun. It just wasn’t done.

“What’s wrong?” Myrtle asked, worry creeping over her face.

Time to be professional. She didn’t want to cause Myrtle unnecessary alarm. She took Myrtle’s arm and wrapped the cuff around it. She was surprised by how soft Myrtle’s skin was. It was nothing like the tough exterior she projected.

“What day is it?” Colleen asked.

Myrtle rolled her eyes. “For Pete’s sake. July fourth. My name is Myrtle Mae Crepe. I am of sound mind. And someone tried to kill me!”

Okay. She would skip the orientation questions. Myrtle was clearly lucid; she didn’t want to make her livid, too. Getting Myrtle angry wouldn’t help her blood pressure. The room fell silent as Colleen finished taking the reading. She couldn’t believe it. The woman had survived an explosion and her blood pressure was 115 over 80. “Your blood pressure’s normal.”

“I told you I’m fine. Now can we stop this foolishness? We’ve got a murderer running loose.”

“How do you know about that?” Colleen asked, surprised.

“What do you mean, how do I know? When I was walking to my back door my house exploded. Why I listened to you, I’ll never know. If I had just stayed—”

“No,” Colleen said, interrupting. “I mean, how did you know about the body?”

“Body? What body?” Myrtle asked, puzzled.

“The one that was found in your house.”

“There was a body in my house?” Myrtle said, her voice squeaking. Then her eyes widened. “Bobby!”

“Bobby’s fine,” Colleen said. “He thinks you’re dead. But otherwise he’s fine.”

“Then who was in my house?’

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. Start at the beginning. What exactly happened?” Colleen put her medical equipment away. Her long night was getting longer.

“Someone was in my house, before it exploded. I think a man.”

“The man we saw earlier at the Lighthouse?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have my glasses on.”

“I thought you said you didn’t wear glasses.”

Myrtle pursed her lips, caught in a lie.

A slight smile formed at the edges of Colleen’s lips. So Myrtle had a vain streak. “You said you saw someone?”

Myrtle shrugged. “Not exactly. No. It was more of a gut feeling, you know?”

Yeah, Colleen thought, I know. “Does anyone else know you’re alive?”

“No. And we’re going to keep it that way,” Myrtle said with finality.

“We have to notify people that you’re okay.”

“If we tell people I’m alive, whoever tried to kill me will try again.”

“We don’t know if you were targeted, Myrtle.”

“It was
my
house. Who else would they be after? What happened to that person … it was meant for me.”

“Speaking of that other person,” Colleen began, “it was a woman. Someone you hired, perhaps? Maybe a maid?”

“What? And let someone ruin my organization system?”

Colleen resisted the urge to tell Myrtle what she thought of her “system.” “Maybe a friend of Bobby’s, then?”

“Please,” Myrtle said with a dismissive wave. “Bobby knows better than to have a woman in my house.”

“Okay,” Colleen said, not really wanting to get into Bobby’s dating life. “Can you think of anybody, besides the man with the gun, who might have broken in to hurt you?”

“Who would want to hurt me?” Myrtle asked, genuinely stumped.

“Oh, I don’t know … belittled students, tortured colleagues, humiliated waitstaff … anyone in Corolla.”

“All right, all right. I get the point. So I’ve ruffled a few feathers.”

That’s one way of putting it, Colleen thought. “So you don’t know who was in your house or why?”

“No,” Myrtle said, discouraged. “But the murderer must have thought it was me. And if he finds out it wasn’t, I won’t be safe.”

Colleen hated to admit it but Myrtle had a point. She wasn’t sure if the sheriff’s department could protect Myrtle from what might be a professional hitman. “But what about Bobby?” she asked. Myrtle wouldn’t really want her son to worry. Would she?

“Little Bobby will understand our need for secrecy after you and I have caught these criminals.”

“Hold on. Since when did we become Nancy Drew and Miss Marple?”

“Since I walked my old bones all the way here in the middle of the night. Besides, you saw the gangster with the gun. Your life could be in danger, too.”

Colleen got up and paced the room. Her earlier joy at seeing Myrtle had changed to exasperation. What Myrtle was asking her to do was crazy. She could easily investigate the arson, maybe even do some digging behind Bill’s back, but concealing Myrtle’s status as one of the living from the coroner, and from Bill, was pushing things too far. Bill would kill her if he found out—that is, if the men responsible for blowing up Myrtle’s house didn’t get to her first. She cracked her knuckles.

“Well?” Myrtle asked from the high-back chair.

Colleen took a deep breath. “Look, Myrtle, I—”

Sparky suddenly growled at the front door. Colleen peeked through the front curtains. Headlights swung into her driveway and a vehicle with the sheriff’s department seal stopped in front of the house. “Crap,” she said.

“What is it?” Myrtle asked.

Colleen grabbed her firefighter baseball cap from the sofa and pulled it tight over Myrtle’s head. “Stay low and don’t say a word.”

Bill’s approaching footsteps made Sparky growl again. The knock on the door made him bark. Colleen approached the door. She stole a look back at Myrtle. She could just see the top of the baseball cap. Another knock. Colleen paused a moment before opening the door a crack. “Bill, what are you doing here?” she asked, blocking his view of the living room.

Bill twirled his hat in his hands. She waited. Their eyes locked. Her heart raced with nervousness. “How are you?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said.

Bill cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I know this must be tough … how important it is to you that you save…” He took a deep breath and began again. “I’m sure Myrtle was gone before you arrived. You did everything you could.”

“Yes, well…” Colleen said, trying to think of a reasonable response, given that she knew Myrtle was alive and well and sitting a few feet away in her living room.

“I could stay. We can talk if you’d like.”

“No!” Colleen said, panicked.

Bill raised his head in surprise.

“I mean,” she said, trying to cover, “that’s really not necessary. But nice of you to offer.”

She studied Bill. His uniform was slightly wrinkled; his brown eyes were tired. Colleen thought he was especially handsome in the soft glow of the porch light. This was the shy, vulnerable side of Bill that people rarely saw. It was the side that made her wonder if they would ever become more than professional colleagues. The sound of something dropping on the floor of her living room snapped Colleen back to the present moment.

“Yes, well, it’s been a long night. Thank you for coming by,” she said.

Bill attempted to see into the house but Colleen blocked the opening. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, now on full alert.

“Of course. I’m tired, that’s all.”

Suddenly, Myrtle started coughing, loud and deep. Bill’s brows raised in surprise, then furrowed in hurt anger.

“I didn’t realize you had company,” he said, an edge to his voice.

Colleen forced a weak smile as Myrtle coughed and cleared her throat behind her. Bill put on his hat and turned away.

“Good night,” Colleen said, unable to think of anything else.

“Good night” was Bill’s curt response as he stormed down the steps.

Colleen closed and gently locked the door. As soon as she heard the engine start on Bill’s SUV, she marched into the living room. “You call that being quiet?” she asked, trying not to lose her temper.

“You were taking so long … I needed something to do,” Myrtle said, retrieving a gardening book from the floor. “When I bent to get this I started coughing. I was in an explosion, in case you forgot.”

Colleen snatched the book from Myrtle. Her head was swimming. She paced the room. What was she going to do now? Bill thought Myrtle was dead and that Colleen had a man over. What if she needed his help later? He might not give it to her if he was angry or jealous.

“So it’s official. I’m dead,” Myrtle said.

“No, you’re not,” Colleen said, refocusing on Myrtle. “And I’m telling Bill.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Watch me,” Colleen said, grabbed the phone from the end table, and dialed.

“If you had wanted Sheriff Dorman to know, you would have told him when he was here. Admit it. You want to catch the criminals as much as I do.”

Colleen clicked the phone off and tossed it on the sofa. Sparky and Myrtle kept an eye on Colleen as she walked back and forth trying to figure out what to do next. Why hadn’t she told Bill that Myrtle was here? Was Myrtle right? Did she think she could catch whoever had tried to blow Myrtle up? Was Bill right? Did she stick her nose where it didn’t belong? What if it was discovered that she was concealing Myrtle and information critical to the case? Her whole career could be in jeopardy, not to mention her relationship with Bill. Then again, if she managed to solve the real murder and do it while keeping Myrtle safe, no matter how mad Bill got he’d have to see that she’d been helpful, that she had done the right thing, and that she had protected a life, even one as annoying as Myrtle Crepe’s. Yes, he would finally see how valuable she was to him.

“So?” Myrtle asked. “What’s our plan?”

“There is no plan,” Colleen said with a sigh. She plopped down on the sofa, at a loss as to how to proceed.

“We’ve got to have a plan,” Myrtle said. “The killer’s still out there.”

“I know that,” she said, struggling to keep her cool. “I’ll see what I can dig up through the arson investigation, but if things get too crazy I’m going to Bill. Until I decide what to do with you, you’re staying here. That means no going out, no using the phone, no answering the door, and definitely no snooping.”

“You expect me to stay locked up here and do nothing?”

“As long as the killer thinks you’re dead he won’t come after you again. Staying hidden is the only way you’ll be safe.”

“What about that body? What happens when they figure out it’s not me?”

“They’re a little busy in the medical examiner’s office right now. Because everyone thinks it’s your body, there’s no reason to rush to identify it. That buys me time to find out who was after you and murdered that unfortunate person instead.”