Roots of Murder (36 page)

She asked, “Why do you think that they'll be safer at your house than here?”

“They won't be at my house. We'll be out of town. I have no intention of staying here.”

“What about school?”

“They can miss a few days. Surely the police will settle this soon.” In the time waiting for Nell, Mrs. Thomas had thought her argument through.

Nell glanced away from her, with a brief thought of grabbing Josh and Lizzie by the hand, running out to her car, and driving off to … she had no idea. The best she could do would be a night or two in a hotel somewhere, and she still had to be here to take care of the Crier. It was too much, just too much. “I'll be right back,” she suddenly said and ran to the bathroom.

Staring at her face in the mirror, not liking what she saw—a tired,
middle-aged
woman, her eyes puffy and red—Nell didn't like any of her choices, but she needed a moment out from under her
mother-in
-law's glare. Pride or my children's safety? She didn't want to concede to Mrs. Thomas, but even if she kept them locked up here, some maniac could still throw a firebomb in the window. She could haul them along to sort through the waterlogged remains of the Crier office, but that wasn't a guarantee they would be safe. The bomber had stuck once; he might come again. What if she was the real target? Keeping them near her would make them less safe.

I could just cash in my insurance, close the paper, and call it a day, Nell thought. But that would be giving them what they wanted. It had been a cowardly attack on an empty building in the middle of the night. No, she would fight and make what compromises she had to until they became too great. Nell filled a glass from the tap and used it to slake her thirst and help swallow her pride. She would let Mrs. Thomas have Josh and Lizzie for the weekend, and after that they'd have to see.

For form's sake, she flushed the toilet before exiting the bathroom.

“Go get packed for the weekend,” she quietly told her children. “It's best if you stay with your grandmother for a few days.” Then she added, in an even quieter voice, “I'm sorry. I wish … we had some better choice.”

They looked at her, then at Mrs. Thomas. Lizzie started to say something, but Josh whispered, “Let's go,” and they headed up to their rooms to pack.

“I want them back on Monday morning for school,” Nell told Mrs. Thomas. She hadn't swallowed all her pride. “We'll take things from there. The sheriff's office has a good idea who did it, so someone will be in jail by then. Let me know where you are. I'll call tomorrow night around five, to talk to Lizzie and Josh.”

“It may depend on what we're doing,” Mrs. Thomas hedged, some of her pride also still undigested. “But I'll leave a message.”

“Are you leaving tonight? It's late.”

“No, we'll go back to my place. I alerted Dorothy, and she, her husband, and their two boys will stay tonight. We'll leave in the morning.”

Dorothy was Mrs. Thomas's maid, someone she considered at her beck and call. It annoyed Nell; it was an attitude from a different era. She'd asked Dorothy once what she'd dreamed of doing as a young girl. Dorothy had answered slowly, chary at what she could reveal to the white
daughter-in
-law and finally saying, “The usual foolish stuff, being a singer or actress.” Looking back, Nell had only proven she was a
guilt-ridden
Northern woman who didn't want to admit that her parents used racist words.

They waited in a tense silence until Josh and Lizzie, toting overnight bags, came down the stairs.

“Mom? What about you? You can't stay here alone,” Lizzie said.

“Don't worry,” Nell said. “I couldn't sleep anyway, so I'm going back to the Crier to start digging through waterlogged paper. Jacko is there, plus two deputies.” Nell wasn't sure what she would do, but telling them she was staying here by herself would only worry Josh and Lizzie.

“Well, it's late,” Mrs. Thomas said. “Let's get going, shall we?” She turned and headed out the kitchen door, which was closest to her car in the driveway.

Josh rushed to Nell and gave her a hug, then hurried after his grandmother. Lizzie also gave Nell a hug, holding on for a long time. “You be safe, okay, Mom?” she whispered.

“I'll be fine, honey. You take care of Josh and try to enjoy your trip.”

Nell watched them from the door. Lizzie's long hug had cost her the front seat. Mrs. Thomas quickly drove away. When she could no longer see the taillights, Nell closed the door. She traversed the house, making sure everything was locked. She still had no idea what she was going to do.

As a wash of tiredness came over her, Nell decided she needed a few hours of rest, if not sleep. She grabbed the bottle of Scotch, stopped briefly at the bathroom for a perfunctory brushing of her teeth, and went upstairs to the guest bedroom. It was at the back of the house, away from the street and any window something could be thrown through. She found the travel alarm, set it just in case she dozed off, took a swig of liquor straight from the bottle, threw off her clothes, and climbed into bed.

twenty

Sunshine and an odd
buzz woke her. Nell recognized the unaccustomed sound as the travel alarm. Glancing at it, she noted it was six in the morning. She started to lie back, but remembered Jacko had stayed the night. Someone should get there to relieve him, and she was the only someone available.

Nell rolled out of bed. As she stood up, she realized she was still tired. But I can't be tired, she told herself as she made her way to the bathroom, almost tripping over the Scotch bottle.

She took a quick shower, leaving the water cold enough to thoroughly wake herself up. She quickly dressed, remembered to remove the Scotch bottle and put it back where it belonged. After grabbing a breakfast of a banana, Nell was out the door.

When she arrived, Jacko was sitting on the front steps. He was young enough to not look as tired as he should have. A sheriff's department vehicle was parked out front, but the deputy was fast asleep in the front seat. Nell still considered that a vast improvement to the police, who were evidently fast asleep when someone firebombed a building half a block away.

“Good morning,” Nell greeted Jacko. “Or is good even possible?”

“It is all relative, isn't it? The fire chief said it was okay to go in, just be careful. But I thought I'd wait for you.”

“Thanks, I think.” Nell gazed at the front of the building, the harsh black of ash marring its light gray façade. As far as she could tell, only she, Jacko, and the sleeping deputy were around.

“Shall we go take a look?” Nell asked.

Jacko pointed to a car entering the square. “Coffee,” was all he said. The car glided to park behind the deputy, not even waking him up.

Kate got out, toting with her a cardboard tray with four cups of coffee. “Thought you could use this.” She put her bundle down next to Jacko. Pointing, she said, “These two are black, one with milk, and milk and too much sugar.” She handed that one to Jacko.

Nell and Kate both took the black ones.

“Expecting someone else?” Nell asked, looking at the fourth cup.

“No, wanted to make sure I brought enough. Someone can always have a second cup.”

Nell was grateful for the caffeine and the kindness. She'd been too rushed to brew any before leaving home. She also appreciated that Kate didn't make small talk, seemed aware that words were of little use here. Instead, they quietly drank their coffee.

Jacko took a long sip, then stood up and started up the stairs. “I got your key back, but they left the door unlocked.” He handed it to her, although Nell would never use it again.

Jacko carefully pushed the charred door open and stood aside to let Nell enter. Kate followed behind him.

Pam's desk, nearest the door, was a total ruin. Licked by flame and inundated with water, nothing could be saved. The supply closet behind her desk was also completely waterlogged.

“Too bad we just bought those boxes of copy paper,” Jacko said ruefully.

“It's not like the copy machine's going anywhere except in the garbage,” Nell pointed out. It lived under the window on the other side of the door from Pam's desk, the widow that the bomb had been meant to go through. It was a sad sight: the side nearest the flaming door partly melted, pools of water still in the paper trays.

Kate, practical Kate, put on a pair of work gloves she had in her pants and started clearing the area around the door.

“You don't need to do that,” Nell said.

“Someone needs to. Check the rest of the building while I get this.”

Dolan's office, also in the front of the building, just beyond the copy machine, had suffered considerable damage as well. His desk and computer were too waterlogged to be saved. His file cabinets were on the side of the office away from the window. Maybe all the records could be salvaged, but Nell didn't have the heart to open them to see how wet everything was.

Both Jacko's and Carrie's desks were in the main open area, about ten feet beyond Pam's location.

“A day or two out in the sun, they might dry out,” Jacko said as he ran his hand over the back of his chair.

“I'm more worried about the computers than the chairs. I don't think they'll dry out in the sun.” Everything was backed up on the server, but the server was kept behind Pam and was not likely to ever be used again.

“The hard drives might have survived, being in the metal cases and all,” Jacko said. “I know someone who might be able to get the data off them.”

Nell just nodded as she surveyed the main room. Paper was everywhere. The carpet was still a soggy mess, tracked with soot from the blaze and the feet of the firemen. The whole thing would have to be replaced.

Moving on, she looked into Ina Claire's office. It was behind Dolan's, with a smaller window overlooking the narrow walkway between the buildings. The carpet was still soggy underfoot, but her wall seemed to have protected most of her office from damage.

Nell's office, at the back of the building looked as if nothing had happened. Even the carpet seemed dry, or at least not noisily squishing underfoot.

“Guess the fire knows who's boss,” Jacko commented as he glanced through her door.

“Yeah, I'm the only one who doesn't get a new computer,” Nell said. Next to her office was the staff break room, and it too seemed in decent shape. “No new refrigerator or microwave either,” she noted. “I wonder how downstairs fared.”

“Oh, shit,” Jacko exclaimed.“The morgue.” He hurried downstairs and Nell followed him.

As much water as the carpet had soaked up, a lot still made it into the basement. Luck did offer a few kindnesses; the stairs opened facing the back of the building, so the old issues were kept there. The photo lab was in the far back corner, like Nell's office, and it had survived unscathed. The front of the basement was a storage space for old furniture, including the heavy and ornate desk Thom's grandfather had used. It was probably a valuable antique, but not very practical given its oversized top. Supposedly Franklin McGraw had it in the center of the main room to keep a watch on everybody and everything. Most of the stuff in that area was completely waterlogged.

The actual storage cases for the old papers were off the floor and hadn't been directly flooded, but Nell wondered what it would take to get all the moisture out in time to prevent mold and mildew from destroying the fragile old sheets.

Water was puddled in the low areas of the floor, and even the higher places had a moist sheen to them. They wandered around, as if trying to take in everything, making sure they didn't miss anything that could be fixed or saved. Nell was glad to have Jacko around. And Kate upstairs.

“I suppose we shouldn't really do anything until the insurance adjuster gets here,” Nell finally said, and then headed back up the stairs. Kate had cleared a path from the front back to both Nell's office and the break room; several wastebaskets were stuffed with soggy paper. She looked up, wiping her brow.

Nell made one more circuit of the main area, again taking in what was lost and what could be saved. Then they all headed out though the blackened door.

Coming out into the fresh outdoor air made her realize that a heavy burned smell now saturated the office.

“Where did you get that coffee?” Nell asked as they retrieved the now cold cups they'd left sitting on the steps.

“Henrietta's. They opened at six,” Kate answered, naming a place about six blocks away.

Nell debated whether the caffeine was worth the trip. She glanced at her watch to help make a decision. It was still hours before the insurance man would be here. “Well, we can sit on the steps or we can go get breakfast,” she decided.

“I could use some food,” Jacko admitted. He tapped on the deputy's window and told him where they were going. Which, Nell suspected, alerted him there would be no one around to cover up his sleeping on duty, should some higher officials chance on the scene.

Snagging a table in the back of the crowded diner, they discussed what needed to be done, making a list of things like garbage bags, fans, needed for the initial cleanup. Jacko ordered a big breakfast, Kate went for oatmeal and Nell opted for toast, the smoke lingering in her clothes didn't do much for her appetite. The waitress gave them what they really needed, a large pot of coffee left on the table.

“What will you do now?” Kate asked, her question clearly directed at Nell.

“Wait for the insurance person, try to clean up enough that we can function … ” Nell shrugged her shoulders, then took a sip of coffee.

“I meant, for you and the kids. What will you do?”

Nell picked up the coffee cup and took another sip. It wasn't a question she wanted to think about. Nor one she has an answer to.

“I'll be glad to help,” Kate added. “You're all welcome to stay with me if it feels safer. Be warned, it's a
blow-up
bed in the living room for at least one of you.”

“And at my place, too, though my offer is a sleeping bag on the floor,” Jacko said.

Nell smiled. Or she hoped it was a smile; she wasn't sure her face was capable of one. “Thank you both. I'm not sure what to do just yet.”

“The offer's genuine,” Kate said.

“I know.” Nell buried her face in her coffee cup, afraid she might cry, inappropriate in this bright breakfast place. The kindness of strangers. No, these weren't strangers, but friends. Ones she needed at this moment.

The waitress brought their food.

Nell grabbed her toast, hoping the mundane task of eating would ease her emotions. But the silence was expectant. Questions Nell had to answer hung over her.

“I don't know,” she said, putting down a
half-eaten
piece of toast. “Somehow I can't take it in yet. Pelican Bay is supposed to be the safe, peaceful place. Where things like this don't happen.”

“It's not fair, is it,” Kate said softly. A statement, not a question.

“I don't want to back down. And I don't want my children hurt, and I don't know how to do both those things.” After another gulp of coffee, she added, “I'm open to any suggestions.”

“I wish I had some. But you're not alone. If you need someone to drive you down to the Florida Keys after this, we'll do it.” Jacko nodded his agreement. “Or we can get all our friends to make a series of safe homes. Some even with real beds all around.”

Nell brushed her hand over her eyes, trying to hide the tears seeping out.

Both Kate and Jacko handed her a napkin.

“Go ahead and cry,” Kate said. “You've earned it.”

“Or drink Scotch,” Nell amended.

“
Fifteen-year
-old. I'll find you that bottle.”

“I'll help,” Jacko offered.

“You'd have to be old enough to go to a liquor store,” Kate said.

Jacko looked appropriately outraged, enough that Nell had to laugh. Which, she realized as she finished her toast, was exactly what Kate had intended.

When they got back, the morning was far enough along for a smattering of people to be about. It was still too early for the insurance man and Dolan, so Nell, with an extra cup of coffee, and Kate and Jacko, perched on the front steps. Sipping the coffee, Nell wondered if the plumbing worked; she was downing a fair helping of diuretics. Or if there was anything resembling dry toilet paper in the building. She added that to the list.

The three of them were content to be quiet, as if there was too much to think about for mere talk.

Several passersby gaped at the burned building. A few had the temerity to ask Nell about it, but most seemed to consider the three people lounging on the stairs some odd grouping and most likely derelicts; none of them were well dressed. Jacko had old jeans and a
T-shirt
under his battered leather jacket. Kate's jeans were
paint-splattered
, her
T-shirt
so worn the letters were illegible. Nell had thrown on sweatpants and an old sweatshirt, one she wouldn't miss if it didn't make it through the day, and her
yard-work
jacket. Their sojourn in the building had added a layer of ash and smoke.

Dolan and the insurance adjuster had apparently met in the parking lot, as they walked together across the green. This time the five of them traversed the same route Nell had covered earlier. She let Dolan do most of the talking, occasionally adding in a detail or pointing out anything they'd seemed to miss, including Thom's grandfather's desk. Her motive was venal; she was hoping the replacement cost might help cover the real necessities that had to be replaced.

The insurance adjuster, she couldn't remember his name, said little, as if not wanting to admit that his company was actually responsible for covering any of this.

While they were conferring and had no further need of her, Nell found an ATM and withdrew several hundred dollars. She gave the money to Jacko and sent him off to get the things they would need to begin cleaning up. Kate returned to the inside, saying she'd continue making a path until she had to leave to open the bike shop.

Nell told Dolan, “You don't need to hang around. Handling the insurance mess is going to be enough of a good deed to get you into heaven.”

“I'm going to stay for a bit, but I did promise my brother I'd help with his wife's surprise birthday this afternoon. I put in some calls this morning, got a carpenter friend of mine to come out and at least board up the windows and the door. We can't get any real workmen out here until Monday unless we want to pay overtime insurance won't cover.”

“Thanks for arranging the carpenter,” Nell said. “I need to figure out how to work around things anyway. Monday is soon enough. I think I'll spend today trying to get enough of the mess cleared out so we can function.”

“You going to try and put out a paper this week?” he asked.

For an answer, Nell said, “Should I just stick to reporting high school football scores?” She wondered what her staff would do. Would they still want to work here? Dolan was her bellwether.