Scraps of Paper (24 page)

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”

“Why?” She tried to keep her body from trembling. He was behaving so strangely.

“To set some things straight. It won’t take long. I’m sorry you broke your arm.”

Abigail gritted her teeth, and mumbled, “Things happen.” For the first time with him, she was frightened. She never should have checked the store alone. So stupid. But, she calmed herself, he only wanted to talk to her. No danger there. And because she was a normal person who couldn’t believe someone would want to harm her over printed words, she believed that.

“I’m sorry you think I ruined your reputation, Mr. Mason. I don’t think I did. I suppose you’re referring to the newspaper stories on the Summers? Your name was never mentioned.”

He nodded, his eyes shining in the faint light. “You didn’t use my name, no, but you didn’t have to. Innuendos and the other clues pretty well pointed a finger
at me
. Anyone who lived here in those days can make the connection…make assumptions. Good as branding me a murderer! After that last story I had to go into hiding. I can’t show my face without someone staring at me, whispering behind my back. Life as I knew it, everything I worked so hard for, is over. I can’t stay here any longer.” There was a hostile desperation in his voice.

The words spilled out before she could stop them: “Did you kill Emily?”

 He didn’t answer. In the background Abigail heard the picnic, muffled and far away.

“You
were
Emily’s secret boyfriend, weren’t you?”

He saw he couldn’t lie. She had him. “One of them, but I was in love with her. I wanted to marry her. You make it sound sordid,” he breathed. “Made it sound sordid in those stories.”

“Because you were engaged to Norma and you were abusive to Emily and those kids.

 “Did you throw the rock and kill those birds on my porch?” she suddenly demanded. “Send me that threatening letter?” Now she was getting mad. If he wanted to set the record straight, why not all of it. “You ran Frank and me down on the motorcycle, too, didn’t you?”

“You didn’t listen!” There was harsh resentment in his accusation. “I warned you to stop prying.”

Her skin had gone chilly. She was in trouble here and she knew it. “I couldn’t stop searching for answers once I found the graves.
They
wouldn’t let me. I was living in their house, John.” His first name just slipped out, an attempt to soften his growing anger. “They’d waited a long time for the truth to be known…for their justice. In a way
they
led me to their graves. Begged me to help them.”

Mason’s shadowy tormented face drained of color when she’d used his first name. He stared at her as if she were a ghost. Emily’s? She’d triggered something and he was losing control. Lowering his head, he muttered hoarsely, “I loved Emily…she was the love of my life. That wasn’t in your exposés, was it? Unfortunately I didn’t know that until years later and it was too late. Life went on, I grew older and unhappier every year. More alone. I stare into the mirror and wonder, who is this old man? Where has my youth, my life gone? The happiest days were when I loved Emily, but she didn’t love me. She left me for another man. A younger man.”

He continued to study her with that odd expression. “You look so like her. Same eyes. Same smile. You’re an artist. She was an artist. You could be her twin or Emily reincarnated. Has anyone told you that? The first time I saw you, in this store, you gave me quite a shock. I thought she’d returned to haunt me.”

“Because you killed her?”

“You think if I had I’d be stupid enough to tell you? Tell anyone?” A crafty rasp in his voice.

She mutely shook her head and Mason shoved her into a chair. She had to get away from him. He was crazy. He’d hidden it well…until now.

“I’m leaving town today. You’ve chased me out. Ruined my business and my life!” He stared around at his store with grief stricken eyes. “People believe I’m a murderer. I’m not! I’ll tell you the truth…
Edna
killed Emily–her own sister–
and
those kids…
with poison.

“Yeah,” he growled, his eyes glittering with paranoia. “Edna did it! Her parents? Killed them too. Poison. They betrayed her and left the house and the inheritance to Emily and the kids, not Edna. What a joke on her. Edna was the oldest. But Edna was stealing their money. Emily’s money. Ha, that did it. Emily caught her.

“So, Edna got rid of all of them. She buried them by the tree house. She hated Emily; hated the kids. She wanted me, you see. But, ha! Me have anything to do with that lazy, plain as a grapefruit, hypochondriac–no way! I wouldn’t give her the time of day,” he uttered contemptuously.

Abigail was horrified. Mason was lying. The final forensic results didn’t support Emily’s being poisoned. The kids, yes, not Emily. Emily was strangled–probably by a pair of strong angry hands. Hands like Mason’s. A crime of enraged passion.

“But I couldn’t get rid of Edna.”

“She was blackmailing you, wasn’t she?”

Mason seemed startled. He shut up and froze, glaring down at her. Abigail’s eyes had accustomed themselves to the dimness and she could make out Mason’s unshaven face hovering above her like an evil moon. Tired, beaten and old. His expression twisted and feral. His clothes rumpled. Nothing like the debonair man she’d met three months ago. Guilt had undone him.

Because, though he’d blamed it on Edna, Abigail knew in that moment that–whether crime of jealousy or insanity–
he’d killed Emily
. Not Norma, Todd Brown or Sheriff Cal Brewster. It explained everything. “How do you know about that?”

“Remember I found Edna’s ledger? One of the things you broke into my house for.” Abigail shrunk into the chair. There was a sudden threatening in his manner that scared her. She’d gone too far this time and knew it. She should make a run for it, but he had too firm a grip on her arm. So whenever he let his guard down she’d better be ready.

“You got to understand. Emily told me she was going to Chicago to start a new life and to be with
him
. I’d had a horrible fight with Norma and told her it was over. I was sick of her plain, nagging face…been drinking…couldn’t bear the thought of someone else having my beautiful Emily. I’d lost
everything
. I went to Emily’s house…it was dark…she was packing her car. Children were upstairs…they hadn’t been feeling good…I begged Emily not to go…told her I’d give up Norma, the store, everything…all I wanted was
her
. I was weeping, on my knees, shameless. Seeing her leaving made everything so clear. I was nothing without her. I’d marry her! Too late. She wouldn’t listen.
She was in love with someone else
. And suddenly my hands were around her neck. I didn’t know what I was doing!” His fingers opened and closed, clenching, his eyes reflecting some horror he alone was remembering, then they narrowed. “It was the booze. That’s why I quit drinking. After that night I hardly ever drank again.

“I saw my life spilling away. Disgrace. Humiliation. Prison. I couldn’t face it.
And Edna saw it all from the window,
” his voice broke, his eyes glistened with tears.

“But she helped you bury Emily in the woods and promised not to turn you in if you gave her money every month and if you’d go along with her story that Emily and the kids had left town after she poisoned them?” Abigail pressed gently. “She got the house, the money and then…she blackmailed you for the next thirty years. She kept track in the ledger. Right?” It was a calculated guess and by the way Mason reacted it was either the truth or close to it.

“Ah, yes, Edna’s ledger. That woman was greedy. Every year she wanted more. With my ex-wife already draining me, I had to do
something
. What a shame, someone helped Edna into the next world. Did you know old Edna was dying of stomach cancer? Poor soul. Just not fast enough. Someone, I have no idea who, added a few lethally doctored pills to her monthly medical prescription.
Tsk, tsk.
It must have killed her. But no one asked any questions when she died. Thought it was the cancer. Someone probably did her a favor. Thirty years of blackmail was enough. Hell, I couldn’t stomach paying
one penny more
.”

But how did he know about the drugs in Edna’s system, she thought, unless he did it? “Who killed the children?” Soft, low. Careful. Careful.

“It took me thirty years to get it,” spoken in a whisper. “Edna poisoned them, like she’d poisoned her parents before. For the inheritance. Irony was, that until you discovered their graves beneath the tree house by Emily’s
I never knew they were dead
. I never went back to the grave after we put Emily there. I swallowed Edna’s story that she’d sent the kids back to their father two weeks later when she caught up to him. I never checked to see if he had them. Why would I? And throw suspicion on me if there was ever a murder investigation? I thought I was being smart.” But he didn’t realize by saying it he was incriminating himself.

“
Imagine
my surprise when I read in the newspaper that
three
graves were found, not one. What a fool I’d been! Edna blackmailed me decades for killing Emily when
she killed four people herself.
All that money I was forced to give her for nothing! I could have blackmailed
her
.” A sour laugh emerged from his throat.
He was behaving more like a crazy person every second.

 “And your ex-wife Norma? Did you also kill her?” Abigail was in so deep, why not deeper?

“Well, I did give her the pills and she did kind of stumble down the stairs trying to get away, too doped up to know what she was doing. Oops, I opened the wrong door. Humph! I merely wanted her to go to sleep on the sofa so I could look for that letter she’d written. Talking to her earlier, I figured she’d write you. Norma blabbed too much. She had a big mouth, always did. But she wouldn’t tell me where she’d hid it. So, one thing led to another.

“Well!” He threw up his hands in a reckless gesture. “
Imagine
my astonishment when I found her at the bottom of the steps dead as a doorknob.”

Abigail’s mind was spinning. Mason had killed Emily, Edna and Norma and was justifying it. Strangling Emily, living with it all those years, and then having to dispose of Edna and Norma had finally driven him
insane
. What should she do? Her arm throbbed, her head hurt and she was beginning to be truly scared. She had to get away from him.

She noticed people walking past the windows. Maybe they were missing her at that very moment, searching for her? She could hope. Her eyes, now fully adjusted to the murky store, spied a knife lying on the counter behind Mason. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her so what was that knife doing there?

He’d stopped talking and seemed confused. He’d let go of her arm and his hand had fallen on the knife, was caressing it, and, an odd glint in his eyes, he turned slightly to stare at it. “I…guess I shouldn’t leave any…loose ends.”

 “You almost killed me and Frank,” Abigail chided him gently, stalling for time so she could find a chance to bolt. She slowly began to stand up. “Were you really trying to kill us?”

“It wasn’t me. I don’t have a white Chevy. I have a red Camero.”

How would he have known it was a light colored Chevy, she thought? Another lie.

“But, believe me, I’d have good reason for wanting Frank Lester dead.” He snorted. He’d picked up the knife and slowly brought it to touch the skin at the base of her neck.

 Abigail had to fight to keep from reacting or screaming.
Stay calm.
“Why would you want Frank dead?” she asked gently, trying to distract him. Trying not to panic at the feel of the blade pinching her flesh.

“Last time I saw Norma she spitefully informed me of what I’d never known. Frank Lester was the younger man Emily left me for all those years ago. Emily had told Norma that the day before she was going to leave when Norma had a run in with her. Emily was going to Chicago to be with him and start a new life. Frank!”

Frank?
Abigail’s mouth fell open. Nothing could have shocked her more and she didn’t know what to say; didn’t get a chance to say anything because she felt his arm come around her shoulder, grab her. The knife dug deeper into her skin. The air felt heavy and she couldn’t breathe.