Morning Glory Circle (28 page)

“Billy killed Theo thinking he would inherit his money, when actually he was your heir.”

“And would not have hesitated to do me in as well, I’d wager. That family is what I would call poor relations, in every sense.”

“So what will you do?”

“Nothing. What should I do? Can you imagine my nephews’ faces if they found out about it? Richard probably wouldn’t care, but Knox, with his political aspirations and very high opinion of himself? How would that smutty rumor play out in political circles, do you think? His grandmother was a maid who ran a diner; his father was born on the wrong side of the blanket, his second cousin is a prostitute and his third cousin a murderer.”

“Theo may have already blackmailed Knox with that information.”

“Blackmail’s results are so often at odds with the intended outcome, don’t you think? I can’t imagine why anyone practices it anymore.”

“I can’t think of any legal reason why I should publicly reveal this information,” Scott said. “But don’t you think you have a moral imperative to help the Davis family?”

“You don’t look like the blackmailing type,” Mamie said, and then wagged her finger at him. “Remember how it always ends.”

“I’m not threatening you,” Scott said. “Gladys and Pauline are good people, and they’re struggling financially right now. They don’t have to know who it was that helped them.”

“What makes you think I have any money?” Mamie said. “Is it this house? Looks can be deceiving, Chief Gordon.”

“It was just a suggestion,” Scott said. “I appreciate your candor and I promise your secret is safe with me. No strings attached.”

“Hmph,” she said. “Hah!”

Scott made his way out of Mamie’s impressive home and noticed as he went that everything was perfectly dusted and polished. It smelled like lemon furniture polish and old money. He wondered how much she had left.

Ava Fitzpatrick made sure her children had a quiet, low-key evening with no stress or over-stimulation. She was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers, which was something her father used to say. She was determined not to let her own stress affect her children, so she got them focused on a book and a video while she prepared for the next day.

Several of Connie’s customers had checked out of the Eldridge Inn and into the Rose Hill Bed and Breakfast after the death of fellow guest Newton Moseby, so Ava had plenty of chores to keep her busy. Her housekeeper had washed sheets and towels all day, and the last load was tumbling in the dryer.

Ava was concentrating on the breakfast portion of her business by mixing up a huge batch of muffin batter to refrigerate overnight in an airtight container. In the morning, she could just scoop it into muffin pans and bake it, and it made the morning routine much easier. Everything was harder to do with only one working wrist, but Ava was managing.

The phone rang and Ava answered, “Rose Hill Bed and Breakfast, Ava speaking.”

“Hey gorgeous,” her husband Brian said.

Ava felt light-headed and gripped the counter with her free hand, then winced at the pain in her sprained wrist.

“What are you doing?” she stammered. “Where are you?”

“Can’t a devoted husband call his darling wife just to see how she’s doing? The place looks really nice, honey. And the kids! That Charlotte is going to be a knockout, just like her mama.”

Ava stretched the phone cord as far as it would reach, hurriedly shut herself in the laundry room and turned off the dryer so she could hear.

“How dare you!” she said, trying to keep her voice down. “Why can’t you leave us alone?”

“I would like nothing better, sweetheart. All I need is some money to make that happen.”

“Of course, I see. How much?”

“I heard your old boyfriend left you a pile of cash.”

“I can’t touch that. It’s in a trust.”

“You can borrow against a trust, my precious, for the full amount. Ask any banker.”

“You would take that from us, the only security we have?”

“All you have to do is bat those eyes and shake that sweet ass, honey, and you can have anything you need from any man with a heartbeat. If you want me gone you have to pay.”

“Was that your baby I saw in the grocery store today?” she asked, “With an old woman who doesn’t speak English?”

Brian was silent, and Ava could hear a dog bark in the background of wherever he was.

“I have to go, sweetie,” he said, “but I’ll be in touch. Go to the bank tomorrow and get that loan paperwork rolling. As soon as I get that money you’ll never have to see me again.”

He hung up before she could say anything else.

Ava stared at the phone.

“Mommy,” asked Timmy, from outside the door, “what are you doing in there?”

Ava took a deep breath and turned the dryer on before she opened the door.

“Nothing, sweetie,” she said, embracing her little boy, “nothing at all.”

Hannah stayed late at her father’s gas station, finding things to do and people to gab with, until Curtis eyed her and said, “What’s up, little bird?’

Hannah felt tears fill her eyes, and she blinked hard to stop them.

“Tell your old papa what the matter is,” he said, and hugged her tight in his arms.

Hannah shook her head and her eyes filled again.

“It’s Sam,” she said.

“I figured that,” Curtis said, letting her go. “He got them blue meanies again?”

“He’s headed in that direction,” she said. “I just don’t know if I can go through it again.”

“Has he called his counselor?”

“I asked him to, but he told me to mind my own business.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“He’s staying locked up in his office, when he does come out we fight, and he’s getting darker and darker. I can see it happening.”

“You wanna stay at our place for a bit? Maybe give him some breathing room?”

“No, but thanks. I’ve got to be a grown up girl and work it out myself.”

“That’s my girl. Just don’t you let him drag you down in there with him, ya hear?”

“Don’t worry,” Hannah said. “I won’t.”

But in her heart, she could see she was a little further down the path with Sam than she wanted to admit.

Ed was trying to look casual as he watched the trailer next door through Mandy’s front window.

“I had to get on Tommy for peepin’, but I never took you for a pervert,” Mandy said.

“I’m sorry,” Ed said. “I’m just naturally curious, which comes in handy when you write news stories for a living.”

“Well, go on over there and knock.”

“I did that earlier, and no one came to the door.”

“Maybe they weren’t home then. You want me to do it?”

“No, no, I’m just being silly.”

“Well, come on over here and be silly with me on the couch.”

“Mom,” Tommy said sternly.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Mandy said.

Tommy rolled his eyes and went back to his homework, which lay spread out on the coffee table, but he was smiling. Ed’s dog Hank was lying on the floor with his head on Tommy’s lap, looking very content.

“You write anything about that guy what offed hisself?” Mandy asked.

“Newton Moseby was his name. Yes, I wrote that up today, and sent it to the city paper for tomorrow’s edition.”

“You put it on your web site?”

“No, I haven’t launched that yet.”

“Sounds like a boat or a rocket ship.”

“Did Newton ever come in the bakery or the bar?”

“Not that I ever knew. I couldn’t even tell you what he looked like.”

“What about Connie?’

“Ed,” Mandy laughed. “Are you interviewing me?”

“I guess I am.”

“Well, then I have a hot news flash for ya. Miss Miranda Wilson says, ‘My boyfriend needs to leave his work at the office, and concentrate on his woman when he comes home.’”

“I get it.”

“Oh yeah, I think you can count on that.”

“Mom!” Tommy complained.

“Put your headphones on then! I’m sparkin’ with my fella.”

“I saw them today,” Tommy said.

“Saw who?” Mandy asked.

“The old lady and the little baby.”

“When?” Ed asked him.

“Today when I got home from school I saw her pulling a wire cart with some groceries in it. I asked her if I could help but she shouted at me in Spanish, so I left them alone.”

“It was nice of you to offer,” Mandy said.

“Please be careful with strangers, though,” Ed warned.

“You think the worst of everyone,” Mandy accused.

“Your last neighbor killed a man,” Ed reminded her.

“You got a point there,” Mandy said. “We better move.”

“That isn’t a bad idea,” Ed said.

“You makin’ me an offer?” Mandy asked.

“No, I just meant maybe you should move to a safer neighborhood.”

“But we ain’t good enough for your house, that it?”

“I didn’t mean that at all. It’s just awful soon for us to be making that kind of commitment, don’t you think?”

“You plannin’ on dumpin’ me?”

“Of course not,” Ed said, and then gestured at Tommy. “Maybe we should talk about this privately.”

“No way,” Mandy said. “Me and Tommy are a team, and we been thinking you’re on our team too. We need to know if this is just, just…”

“Try outs,” Tommy supplied.

“Yeah,” Mandy said. “What he said.”

“We just started seeing each other.” Ed said. “Don’t you want to see if it works out between us first?”

“What’s to work out?” Mandy said. “I love you and you love me, don’t ya?”

“Mandy, I am not ready to have you move in with me.”

“But you and Hank crashin’ here every night, and us all eatin’ every meal together, that ain’t moved in? Just ‘cause your baseball card collection ain’t stayin’ here with ya?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. This is all very sudden for me, and I wasn’t, I don’t, I mean, I wouldn’t want…”

“No, I get the message,” Mandy said, and it was the first time Ed had ever seen her get seriously angry.

She stood up, went to the door, and took his coat off the hook on the wall.

“Mandy, don’t…”

She opened up the front door and threw his coat out into the snow. His snow boots followed.

“Out,” she said. “If we’re just wastin’ our time with you, let’s not waste one more minute.”

“Please don’t do this,” Ed said.

Tommy huddled where he sat, cross-legged at the coffee table, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. Hank got up and followed Ed to the door.

“Go!” Mandy insisted, and Ed had no choice but to go out the door in his stocking feet.

“It was nice while it lasted,” she said, as he went out the door. “You can quote me on that in your damn newspaper.”

Ed and Hank had barely cleared the door when she slammed it behind him.

Ed stood out in the cold, with freezing wet feet and wondered what in the hell just happened.

W
hen innkeeper Connie Fenton woke up and saw the sheriff’s deputy waiting for her, she immediately began crying hysterically, gasping for air, and complaining of chest pains. The deputy drove her to the emergency room at the hospital in Pendleton, where a doctor was running some tests.

County investigator Sarah Albright was furious about this turn of events and was taking it out on Scott. He had come off another night shift at 8:00 a.m. and should have gone home to sleep, but instead was sitting in his office listening to a litany of Sarah’s complaints about his police work. She was ticking them off on her fingers as she went.

“You didn’t immediately inform the county dispatch when you suspected the inn was the scene of a potential homicide, and if I hadn’t stopped by the station I wouldn’t have known about it until you got around to calling me, if you had bothered to call me at all.

“You let a prime suspect be sedated, and you let another civilian linger at the scene without supervision. That Crawford woman could have helped Connie dispose of the evidence. She may have been in on it from the start.

“You should have taken Connie’s statement while the body was still on the premises. She’s had all this time to get her story straight, and now we have to wait again while she pretends to have a heart attack.

“You let a dozen people walk through that crime scene and put their hands all over everything, and let a doctor who was not assigned to the case touch the victim.

“You didn’t get a search warrant for the president’s office before you went through it, and now the college will probably sue.

“I don’t know why you call yourself a police officer. You’re more of a criminal activity enabler.”

“That’s enough,” Scott said quietly.

“And Tweedledee and Tweedledum out there,” she continued, gesturing to the outer office, where Skip and Frank were pretending not to listen, “are worse than worthless. You might as well have hired two monkeys as those two retards.”

“That’s enough,” Scott said a little louder.

“What did you say?” she said, finally hearing Scott.

“I said, that’s enough,” he said calmly. “I’ve had enough of you insulting this town and every one in it. I’ve had enough of you demeaning my staff with your unprofessional behavior. I want you to take your condescending attitude, your FBI training, your Washington, DC violent crimes unit experience, and your rude, hostile comments, and leave this station right now.”

“What is wrong with you?” she asked. “Are you insane?”

“I am formally requesting that you leave this station, and if you need anything further from me or my team you can submit your request in writing. I will then consider whether we have enough resources available to help you. I think you’ll find that from now on we will probably be too busy to help.”

“You can’t just kick me out of here.”

“On the contrary, I can and I am. I called a buddy of mine at the county courthouse and had him look up the official guidelines. If a city does not have resources adequate enough to assist in a county investigation, the county cannot insist that the city comply more than is reasonable.”

“You stupid hillbilly, I will get you fired.”

“And I will make a formal complaint against you for sexual harassment.”

She blanched.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’ll start with a call to your boss,” he said, “and work my way up from there. I’m willing to bet it won’t be the first complaint they’ve received about you. I also have a friend who owns a newspaper. It comes out this Sunday, and I think you’ll be interested to read all about my sexual harassment lawsuit in there. I wonder if that will have any effect on your ambitious career plans.”

Sarah stormed out of the station. They could hear her slam her car door and gun the engine.

“You want me to arrest her for speeding?” Skip asked eagerly, as they stood at the window and watched her peel out, make an illegal u-turn, and drive away, tires squealing.

“No,” Scott said. “She might shoot you and I need you up at the grade school on pirate watch.”

“Can I get you anything?” Frank asked him, after Skip left to go up to the grade school. “Some coffee, a doughnut or something? That was incredible. I mean, really, really awesome.”

“No, Frank, but thank you,” Scott said. “I’m going home to get some sleep. Don’t call me unless something important’s on fire or someone else gets murdered; and Sarah Albright does not count in either case.”

Tommy was sitting in class, and the teacher was demonstrating how to solve an equation on the blackboard, but Tommy wasn’t listening. He was worried about the baby. When Tommy went home for breakfast at 6:00 a.m., after helping Ed deliver the big city daily paper, he saw the old woman leave the trailer next to theirs without the baby. She had a small suitcase with her and seemed to be in a hurry. Tommy knew a bus came through town around that time each morning, and stopped in the parking lot in front of the Dairy Chef to drop off and pick up passengers. He wondered if she was hurrying to catch it. He stood in the driveway of the mobile home park and wondered if he should follow her. He didn’t hear the baby crying and the suitcase wasn’t big enough to put a baby in. So where was the baby?

Tommy waited until she got several yards ahead of him before he started following her. When he got to the corner of Peony Street and Rose Hill Avenue he waited, hiding behind the corner of the Rose and Thorn bar. The old woman crossed the street, walked half a block, and then stood outside the Dairy Chef, under the porch overhang, with a shawl pulled closely around her head and shoulders. She wasn’t dressed warmly enough for the brisk winter weather, and Tommy thought she was probably feeling the cold. When the bus drew up and parked the driver stowed her suitcase in the baggage compartment, and the old lady got on the bus. When it pulled away she was still on board.

Tommy didn’t know what to do. He considered going to the newspaper office and alerting Ed, but hesitated. Ed and his mother were fighting, and he had done his best to stay out of their way and prove what a great kid he was. He had been involved in a murder case by following someone a few weeks previously, and all kinds of trouble had followed involving Ed. He really didn’t want Ed to get the idea that he was always sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong and stirring up trouble. Ed might decide not to make up with his mom if he did.

Tommy went back to the mobile home park and listened at the door of the trailer where the old woman had been staying. He couldn’t hear anything. He knocked quietly, and then a little louder, thinking he would have to make up some reason for intruding if someone answered. No one answered. He tried the doorknob but the door was locked.

‘She must have left that baby with someone,’ he thought, as he walked over to the trailer where he lived with his mother.

While he ate his breakfast, Tommy listened for the baby to cry, as it often did in the morning, but today there was no crying.

‘That baby is probably back with its mother,’ he told himself as he left for school. ‘The old lady was just babysitting it.’

Now in Algebra class, he couldn’t quit thinking about that baby. His hand went up before he was even conscious of what he was going to do.

“Yes, Tommy,” said Mrs. Cavender.

“I feel sick,” he said, and she gave him a pass to go to the nurse’s office.

Tommy walked quickly past the nurse’s office and out the side door of the school. He saw the patrol car sitting out front, and skirted around the hedges that lined the street so Skip wouldn’t see him. Tommy crouched low and ran across Peony Street, and then down Magnolia Avenue until he made it to the alley behind Sunflower Street. There he stood up straight and ran as fast as he could, slipping and sliding in the ruts of snow and ice. He was heading for the newspaper office to get Ed.

Behind the Rose Hill Bed and Breakfast, Ava Fitzpatrick was putting trash out in the alley, using only her right hand to protect her swollen left wrist.

“Tommy,” she called out when she saw him running. “Why aren’t you in school? What’s wrong?”

Tommy stopped and tried to catch his breath before he spoke, but he felt panicked to get going again, so he attempted to tell her.

“A baby,” he gasped out. “A baby’s been left by the old lady in the trailer next to ours.”

He bent over to try to ease the cramp that had developed in his side, the side where his broken ribs had just about healed.

Ava’s eyes grew huge in her head and she dropped the trash where she stood.

“C’mon,” she said, grabbing him by the arm. “I’ll drive.”

Ava didn’t even wait for him to buckle his seatbelt before she backed the mini van out of the driveway and tore down the slippery alley as fast as she could. Tommy got his safety belt fastened, and then stared at Ava in awed admiration. This was like something on television.

“Hold on,” she told him, as she made a sharp right at the juncture of the two alleys, and then a sharp left onto Peony Street. She could see no one was coming, so she zipped across Rose Hill Avenue without even stopping at the stop sign. Another sharp right just down the hill brought them into the mobile home park and she slid to a stop in front of Tommy’s trailer.

Tommy jumped out and ran to the trailer next door with Ava right behind. They could hear the baby crying loudly. Ava pounded on the door, and no one answered. Ava tried the knob and it was still locked.

“Help me,” she said, and started battering the door with her shoulder.

Tommy and she both slammed against it together and the flimsy door flew open with a bang against the wall inside. They fell in, and Ava gasped as she tried to catch herself once again, re-injuring her already sprained wrist. She thought she heard it snap this time, and the pain was excruciating.

Tommy helped her up and they rushed down the hallway to where the screaming originated. The baby lay in the middle of a messy bed, with a red face and eyes streaming with tears. It coughed and gasped for breath. She scooped the child up and held it close to her chest, making soothing noises. The baby wailed in response.

“Look for diapers,” she told Tommy.

Tommy looked around the bedroom, which was an awful mess, but there were no clean diapers or baby stuff. He checked the bathroom, the other small bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room. He found lots of dirty dishes and smelly, used diapers, but no clean ones.

Ava followed him out to the main room with the baby, and wrinkled up her nose at the smell.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she said.

Tommy helped her to wrap the baby in a semi-clean towel she found draped over a chair, and they left the trailer.

“Can you drive?” she asked him.

Tommy, who was only twelve, was shocked to be asked.

“Sometimes my mom lets me start the car,” he said, “but I’ve never driven it.”

“I don’t have a baby seat,” she said. “You get in the backseat, put on your seatbelt, and hold the baby. I’ll go really slow.”

Tommy did as he was told. The baby was still crying, but not as hysterically as before. It smelled awful, and had thick green snot flowing out of its nose. It coughed and wheezed, and that sounded bad even to Tommy, who didn’t know anything about babies.

“You’ll be okay,” Tommy told the baby. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Ava drove slowly up to Rose Hill Avenue, waited for a break in traffic, then turned right, and parked in front of the pharmacy. She jumped out, ran around, slid open the side door of the van and awkwardly took the baby from Tommy, wincing at the pain in her wrist.

“Open that side door,” she told Tommy, pointing at a door between the pharmacy and the hardware store that led to a set of stairs up to the second floor, where Doc Machalvie had an office.

His receptionist, Mildred, was in the outer office. She took one look at wild-eyed Ava holding the coughing baby and sent them straight in.

Ava turned back to Tommy as she went in, and said, “Go downstairs to the pharmacy and tell Meg to give you everything a six-month old baby would need. They can put it on my account.”

Mildred motioned to Tommy and said, “You stay put, sweetie, and I’ll go. I know what to get.”

Tommy knew he was in twenty kinds of trouble, but he also knew he’d done the right thing. He sat down on one of the wooden chairs in the waiting room and waited for a grownup to tell him what to do next.

Inside his office, Doc Machalvie took the wailing, coughing baby from Ava and gave her an ice pack for her wrist.

“Whose baby is this, Ava?” he asked her.

“Tommy found it abandoned in the trailer park,” Ava said. Her heart was pounding and she was out of breath.

“You sit over there and calm down,” he told Ava. “If you and I are calm, the child will know it’s safe here.”

The baby was a boy. Doc examined him thoroughly, took his temperature, and listened to his lungs and heart. He also syringed his nose, which made the baby really mad. Through it all, Doc spoke softly in a warm, comforting voice, and eventually the hysterical crying wound down into the grumpy, complaining crying of a baby who’s just had enough, needs something to drink and a quiet place to go to sleep.