Scraps of Paper (25 page)

“He loves you as I once loved Emily, I think. You look so much like her…the cause of my heartache, my despair–” He looked at her with confused eyes. “
Emily…I killed you once…why are you back?
Do I have to kill you again to finally be rid of you?”

He thought she was Emily.
He was going to kill her. Again. He dropped the knife and reached for her neck with swift hands and, instinctively, she threw her cast backwards, suffered the pain, and slammed it into his face. With a yelp he released her, fell to the floor, and she bolted for the door. It was locked.

But Mason didn’t chase her because all of a sudden there was a crowd of people at the glass, looking in. There were voices calling her name. Abigail recognized Frank’s. They’d come looking for her. Thank God!

“Abigail!” Frank yelled, pounding on the door. “Are you in there?”

“Yes, I’m in here!” She glanced frantically over her shoulder at Mason, on the floor in the gloom behind her. He was scrambling to his feet. The knife was nowhere to be seen, most likely with the dust bunnies under the counter somewhere.

“Going to go now…never meant to hurt you, Emily, I swear…so sorry.
Just leave me alone, for God’s sake,
” she heard him sob. And he was gone.

There had to be another exit in the rear of the store. Mason had been prepared for this.

Abigail moved out of the way and the front door crashed open. She fled into the sunlight, squinting, and there was Frank with open arms. “I’m all right,” she announced, her eyes on his worried face. “I was…talking…to John Mason. He killed Emily, Edna and Norma and he’s getting away! He went out through the back of the store somewhere.”

The look of relief, that she was okay, on Frank’s face turned to anger. “Which way did he go?”

“I don’t know. He said he’s leaving town for good. Must have a car, packed and ready to go, somewhere near by.”

“There’s an alley behind the store. He could have parked his car there.” Frank ran down the sidewalk to the alley between the buildings and around to the rear, leaving Samantha, Ryan and Kyle with Abigail.

Martha put her arms around her friend. “Are you really all right, Abigail? What happened?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you guys, and I’ll tell you all about it, every bit, as soon as I catch my breath.” A smile crept over Abigail’s face. It was over and she was okay. She was so relieved she could have wept. She turned to the newspaper editor. “And Samantha, now I have that final wrap-up, the answers, you wanted so badly on the Summers murders.”

“He got away,” Frank exclaimed when he returned to the store. “Had his car, a brand new white but muddied up Chevy Impala, crammed to the ceiling with suitcases out back and he was driving off as I got to the alley. Just missed him.” And to Abigail, “I’d swear it was the same car that hit us on the motorcycle the other night. Right down to the dirty license plates.”

Frank called the sheriff to pick him up and they joined the chase but Mason was long gone. He’d detoured the town, the picnic revelers, and headed straight for the main highways. The sheriff put out an APB on him, but by then he was long gone.

Abigail collected her watercolors from the abandoned store with the help of Martha and Ryan and lugged them home. It was her artwork, she had the right to take them. Outside the picnic was going strong as music and sweet aromas wafted on the air, mingling with the evening breeze. It seemed as if she’d rode the Ferris Wheel with Frank so long ago.

It had begun to rain softly, but Abigail didn’t care if she got wet, or if her arm hurt. Nothing like a close call with death to make a person feel alive. And it had been close. Mason would have killed her if Frank and the others hadn’t shown up when they did. She was sure of it. As she was sure she’d been very lucky.

Frank caught up later that night with Abigail at her house and she repeated everything for the second time that Mason had said. She downplayed the part about the knife and the attempted choking, but Frank wasn’t fooled. He put his arm around her and held her tightly as they stood in her kitchen. She was happy to be alive but worried that crazy Mason was still on the loose.

“Mason believed there at the end I
was Emily
. Imagine that?” she said to Frank. “All his scheming, killing and guilt must have finally shoved him over the cliff.”

“Humph, he was already over the cliff and out in space somewhere. We just didn’t know it until we started bringing the past out into the light. I’m glad you’re okay. And, don’t worry, we’ll catch him. Everyone’s looking. State. County. Federal. Only a matter of time before they track him down. He’s not thinking clearly.”

Abigail shivered. “I hope they catch him. Until they do, I’m going to lock my doors and keep my stick close.”

“You do that.” Frank smiled, said goodbye, and when Abigail thought he was gone she looked out the window and saw him snuggled down for the night in his truck in front of her house. He wasn’t leaving her alone, unprotected. Not until Mason was caught.

Chapter 19

When Abigail told Frank that Emily had been going to join him in Chicago the night she died it had staggered him. They were talking, sitting side by side on the front porch swing. The afternoon had passed into that hour that was half day and half night.

“You have to believe me; I never knew she was going to follow me to Chicago. Or that she felt
that way
about me. Sure, I was in love with her, like I said before, a puppy-dog sort of love, but it wasn’t reciprocated–or so I thought back then. We were friends who enjoyed spending time together. I cared deeply for her. I adored her kids. I’d asked her out many times, but she’d always said no. She thought I was too young for her; that she’d ruin my future.”

“She thought she wasn’t good enough for you, was the truth of it. That’s what I think. Divorced, with two kids, an abusive ex-husband, jealous boyfriends and a stalker. She had a lot of dangerous baggage. While you were just starting out, on your way up in the world, headed for Chicago and a prestigious police career, she was trying to escape a bad past. Trying to have a better life.

“Could have been Emily
was
in love with you, Frank, denied it to herself, until–poof–one day she looked at how lousy her life was here and resolved to begin fresh in Chicago, too. Or try to. With you, if you let her. No matter how much older than you she was. Only she didn’t have time to tell you any of that before she died. Maybe she was going to take her chances and surprise you in Chicago. Just show up and hope for the best.”

“You could be right. It was so long ago, and by my memory Emily did react strangely to the news that I’d gotten the Chicago job. She was happy for me but from the moment I told her she’d avoided me. I thought she was mad at me for leaving or had other troubles in her life. I was so excited about the new job, running back and forth to Chicago and preparing to leave town I never gave it much thought. I was young and foolish. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my eyes.”

“Emily might have loved you and avoided you because she was afraid she’d show her true feelings.” Abigail studied Frank’s profile in the moon’s light. He must have been handsome thirty years ago, and he still was. He had a rugged face that age often matured but didn’t change. She could imagine an older woman falling for the younger him.

“It floors me that she could have loved me and I didn’t know it,” spoken with sadness. “Lost chances. Roads not taken. I keep wondering how different my life might have been if I’d known. If she’d shown up in Chicago and wanted to be with me.”

“Would you have spent time with her, dated her…married her?”

“I don’t know. I might have dated her. I really had a crush on her. But I was so young. And I met Jolene that first year in Chicago and she
was
the love of my life. No doubt about it. She gave me a beautiful marriage and a son I adore. I wouldn’t change any of that for the world. What would have happened if I’d been involved with someone else that first year? I don’t know.” Since he’d learned of Emily’s secret love for him and how she’d died he’d been retrospective and more than a little melancholy.

“What hurts most is that if Emily wouldn’t have loved me and wanted to move to Chicago to be with me; if I wouldn’t have been the reason she broke it off with Mason that night…she might still be alive. I can’t bear that I was the cause of her death, indirectly or not, and I never had an inkling of any of it. It’s been hard these last few months, remembering Emily and that time, then learning she and her children have been dead all these years, murdered; and finally that she’d loved me and died because of it. It’s all been so hard.”

“It’s been a shock, I know.” Abigail laid her hand softly on his arm and their eyes met. A leaf had fluttered down from the trees and had found a home on his shoulder. “Frank, it wasn’t your fault. Emily would have broken off her relationship with Mason anyway. Any reason she may have given for leaving him or this town would have pushed him over the edge as easily, I’m sure. He killed her because he’d lost her, and was jealous, was unstable even then, not because she loved
you
.”

Abigail believed that and hoped Frank believed it, too. Breathing in the chilliness of the September evening, she could taste fall. For once, her cast didn’t itch. They were on her porch swing soaking in the night and each other’s company, light seeping out from the windows illuminating their faces. Frank had needed someone to talk to and she had let him.

A few days later Abigail and Frank once again were on the porch swing discussing things. The finale of the Summers murder saga had come out the day before in the newspaper and now everyone in town knew the whole truth. John Mason had strangled Emily Summers and, with Edna’s help and silence over thirty years, had buried her in a shallow grave. Edna Summers had poisoned her parents long before Emily’s death, and then her niece and nephew to get them out of the way, for the house and the inheritance money. Mason had killed Edna thirty years later because he was sick of the blackmail and he’d sped along his ex-wife’s death because she would have exposed him as Emily’s long ago lover and, thus, possibly tied him to the murders.

 “What a monkey’s paw of deceit, greed and murder. Now we know what befell all of them, as heartbreaking as it is. Abby, you solved the mystery. You are Jessica Fletcher. A younger Jessica anyway.”

She laughed. “With a lot of people’s help, yours included. And Mason’s actual confession.”

The police had caught him getting on a plane at the airport a day after he’d tried to hurt Abigail. Coming out of hiding, he’d made a beeline for Mexico. Living was cheap down there. He hadn’t made it and was now in jail. Once in handcuffs, all the years of guilt, Edna and Norma’s recent murders, must have broken him. He’d confessed and was resigned to paying for what he’d done.

“After all he did to hide his crime over the years. The blackmail and lies. And killing two more people. To just come clean like that was a surprise,” Abigail said.

“
Emily told him to confess, I heard he told his lawyer from his jail cell. Yep, nutty as a peanut.” Frank shook his head. “At least it’s over. May Emily and her two kids now rest in peace.

“And now it’s time to get on with our own lives, Abby. Move on. It’s been an interesting summer.”

“Hasn’t it?” She remarked. “I found a new town, new home, new life, friends, a new career–and we helped three restless spirits find peace in their graves. Well, really five restless spirits. Oh, then there was Edna and Norma.” She was counting on her fingers. “Seven. Not bad for a summer’s work.”

“Okay, you can quit patting yourself on the back.”

“Will there be a trial, you think?”

“Doubtful. Mason’s lawyer says he’ll probably cop a plea. Mason doesn’t want to go on trial. Doesn’t want to be put on display as a murderer, even if he is one. He can’t stand the humiliation. And turns out he isn’t well. Once he was behind bars, they discovered he had a bad heart…as well as sees and talks to people that aren’t there.”

“Now that’s ironic, isn’t it? A bad heart?”

“That’s a fitting description of the real John Mason, I’d say.” Frank shifted on the swing and as Snowball ran across his lap, he caught the cat and began to pet her.

“Good as any,” Abigail said, taking the cat from Frank and placing her in her own lap. The kitten had grown to twice its original size since Abigail had taken her in. She’d learned to scratch at the door when she needed to go out and would throw herself at the outside screen door when she wanted in. Her idea of knocking.

“I could almost feel sorry for him. He’s got to live with what he’s done. And he’ll most likely be in prison for the rest of his life.”

Frank shook his head. “I don’t feel sorry for him. He got what he deserved, albeit three decades late, but better late than never. Emily and her kids will be dead forever and they didn’t deserve to die like that. And killing Emily directly led to those two poor kids being done in by their aunt. Edna might never have had the nerve to poison them if their mother hadn’t already been dead. It left them unprotected. No, Mason’s got a lot to atone for. I hope Emily pesters him for the rest of his miserable life. In prison. In the dark. With no windows.” Like a grave.

“Yeah…and I hope Emily, Jenny and Christopher leave me alone. But I haven’t dreamed of them since the day I learned the truth.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

She released a deep breathe. “It’s good. Though I did rather enjoy solving their mystery. Following the clues. Doing something worthwhile. It was exciting and I’m going to miss that. Now everything has gone back to normal. The usual. Cleaning house and paying bills.
B-o-r-i-n-g
.”

“Nothing is boring in Spookie, Abby. You know what they say…life is full of mysteries.”

“And murders? Heaven forbid. I’ve had enough of graves, dead bodies and hidden murderers. Besides I have my new commission to keep me busy.”

“The job from the town painting a picture of the courthouse?”

 “Yep, and for big bucks. If they like it I’ll get a second commission to draw the City Hall as well.” Abigail’s face, in the shadows, was smiling. “The money will keep me in groceries and pay my bills for months. I won’t have to take a job at the local Wal-Mart for a while. I’m ecstatic.”

“I bet you are. And I’m ecstatic for you. I like my friends to be successful and prosperous. Makes me look better.”

The swing’s chains creaked, punctuating the moaning of the wind. “Frank, talking about successful friends, have you heard anything else about your book?”

“I have. I was just going to tell you. My agent called this morning and she thinks she might have it sold to a small publisher. Not much of an advance. It won’t make me rich. But it’s a start and I’ll be published. Saying it aloud is hard because I still can’t believe it. I wasn’t going to talk about it yet, but–”

Abigail threw her arms around Frank and gave him a hug. “I knew you could do it! I’m proud of you. I want one of your first copies, hot off the press. Signed, of course.”

“You’ll get it soon as I get mine.”

“You’ll have to learn how to act like a published author and start going to those writers’ conventions and everything. I can’t wait. Road trips! Can I go along?”

“We’ll see. It hasn’t been published yet. Then I’ll need lessons on how to autograph, how to look humble, and how to escape from droves of fans. That’s the important parts of being an author, or so I’ve been told.”

They both laughed. Frank leaned over and when their lips met, the kiss just happened. And she found herself kissing him back then pulled gently away. She couldn’t mistake the feeling between them. It was love. New, fragile and promising. A little too soon for her, she thought. Or was it?  Joel had been gone to her for over two years. Two years was a long time. She kissed Frank again in the twilight and afterwards they held hands.

“We’ve been invited to Martha’s house Saturday night to play cards and listen to music,” he said. “Snacks provided. You busy Saturday night, Abby?”

“Now I am.” She hadn’t forgotten Joel. She’d always love and remember him. It was just that she had to embrace this new life of hers, leave the past, some of it, the sad and unchangeable parts, behind. She wanted to fall in love again. She wanted to be alive again. Because life was short and precious and you had to live it every moment. Every moment you had.

The silence that settled between them was comfortable as they pushed the swing. After a time they talked about taking a motorcycle ride the next day if it didn’t rain. Snowball was sleeping, a purring ball of fur in Abigail’s lap, and the night had become chillier.

Beyond the dark trees Abigail thought she heard Jenny and Christopher’s laughter. She hadn’t told Frank, but yesterday she’d found another scrap of paper tucked in a crack deep in the corner of the kitchen cabinet where she stored her dishes. She couldn’t understand how she’d missed it earlier. Unless she hadn’t been meant to find it until then. The only words on the note, in red crayon, had been:

Mom says were leaving. No more mean boyfriends, no more mean Aunt Edna. Me and Chris are so happy. At last. Goodbye bad times! Hello, posterity!