The Cluttered Corpse (5 page)

I drove along, picking up speed as I went. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I passed them. They paused under a street lamp. I got a clear view of Kevin's pinched face and Tony's thuggish features. Where were they off to? To frighten some other woman?

Tony was laughing, and for some reason I felt a rush of rage. Emmy Lou was miserable, her neighbors worried, her husband on edge. I was having a craptacular Friday night and why? Because of these two losers and their stupid frightening games at her expense.

I slammed on the brakes at the corner and gunned the Miata in reverse. To hell with the engine. I rolled down the window as I reached them. Kevin jumped backward and shrieked when I called his name.

At the sound of my voice, Truffle and Sweet Marie woke up barking.

Kevin jerked around, then broke into an awkward dash across Emmy Lou's lawn.

He might have kept running, but Tony shouted, “It's all right, Kevin.”

Don't be so sure, I thought.

As soon as they caught sight of Tony, the dogs added snarling and teeth baring to their look. They hate hats and hoods.

Kevin edged back toward the sidewalk. His long baggy pants and supersize running shoes made him seem even more awkward.

“This message is for you too, Tony,” I said.

Kevin said, “What do you want?”

“I want you both to know that Emmy Lou might let you get away with harassment, but other people won't. Not only the Baxters, but anyone who finds out about what you're doing.”

Kevin said, “But what are we doing?”

“The police know about you and that stunt in the tree outside Emmy Lou's bedroom window.”

Kevin stammered, “Hey, that was a joke.”

“And they know you had a camera. Maybe this would be a good time for you two to visit the library and learn a bit about the laws on stalking.”

Tony said, “The library? But—”

“Or maybe you have a probation officer.”

Kevin's chin trembled. “We don't have probation officers.”

“If you don't have one now, there's one in your future if you don't leave her alone. There are very serious penalties.”

Kevin squeaked, “I wouldn't do anything to Emmy Lou. Neither would Tony.”

Under normal circumstances I might have believed him. But I had witnessed the so-called joke and seen the impact it had on her.

I said, “Leave her alone. Or you will be very, very sorry.”

I'm not sure if they even heard me, but as I revved the engine, I could see the whites of their eyes.

A man strolling on the other side of the street ignored me and turned into the green house with the garden. The porch light switched off. Patti Magliaro was walking toward her house. She must have been getting home from her shift at Betty's. The diner stays open late on Fridays. She stopped and waved.

I waved back, a surprisingly ordinary gesture considering what I'd done. For some reason, my Ms. Rambo routine had made me feel worse. But at least I'd achieved something.

Kevin and Tony had both been nicely frightened.

Emmy Lou called Saturday morning while I was at the dog park. She left a message about scheduling another session. I returned her call and got her answering machine. I suggested that she call me on Sunday to set up another appointment.

My first commitment was shopping for the so-called baby shower. Under normal circumstances, I would see if the mom-to-be was registered and save time getting something she'd selected. But it wasn't a real shower, and anyway, Sally doesn't believe in registries. She likes surprises much more than I do. Maybe that's why she was about to have her fourth child.

Cuddleship is a fine location for anyone who wants something out of the ordinary. Margaret had never seen anything like it. She was waiting for me when I arrived.

She gazed around the shop in wonderment. “I can't believe places like this exist. Everything in here is the exact opposite of the way I was raised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Extravagant, indulgent, amusing.” She looked down. “Speaking of which, nice ankle boots, Charlotte. I like the black leather bows.” She managed the compliment with her usual lack of facial expression. No legal opponent's ever going to read Margaret's mind. But lately, she's become chattier. That's a good thing.

“These boots were a replacement for my red stilettos. I miss those. I may never get over their loss, but I thought these might come close to mending my broken heart.”

“Whatever it takes. What about these little pajamas? What do they call them?”

“Sleepers. And no thanks, I think I'll stick with the shoes.”

“Very funny, Charlotte. I meant for Sally's baby shower.”

“I knew that. But a person has to work hard to find humor in a baby shower.”

Margaret said, “I don't know what to get her. It's not like she needs anything. And Benjamin brings home the bacon.”

“And Sally likes to laugh, so no pajamas. Fun gifts only.”

Margaret reached up to a high shelf. “What about those little yellow ducks for the bathtub? I never had anything like that when I was small.”

“You're kidding. What did you have in your baths?”

Margaret said, “My mother didn't believe in baths. Waste of water. Showers only.”

“Huh.”

“It's one of the reasons I appreciate having my own place. Bubble bath, scented bath oil, refreshing bath crystals, candles. Not that I don't get pressure to move back in with the folks.”

“Don't give in. Especially if you've gotten used to taking baths.”

She gave the largest duck a little squeeze and chortled. “Among other things. Yes, I think these ducks will do the trick.”

“Sally's kids already have some. Why don't you get them for yourself?”

“I have to get the shower gift out of the way before I pick out anything for me.”

“Why are you obsessing about the shower? It's an excuse to get together and eat.”

She rolled her eyes. “It's the whole baby thing, I guess. That's all my parents can think about: get Margaret married so they can have grandchildren. I told them I had to work tonight so I could get away from family dinner. Even though I have my own place, Mom will be checking anyway. I'll call forward my office number to throw her off. She has boundary issues.”

“Apparently. Couldn't you tell them the truth?”

“No
way
. I could never mention a baby shower. Babies are their big agenda. I never use the words ‘man', ‘male', ‘married', ‘baby', or ‘child' in front of them. I can't bring myself to joke about it.”

I hoped my full opinion wasn't written across my face. “I'm surprised that your mother wants grandchildren.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow. “You mean, since she's about as nurturing as a block of ice?”

“I didn't say that.”

“I would definitely say it. Your mother is glamorous and fun and interesting. She always let you get away with anything you wanted.”

“There are two sides to that, you know.”

“Like the great trips you had to Europe and getting out of school and not having a curfew?”

“How about all the divorces and never meeting my father and never knowing when she was going to be home and all that?” I sputtered.

“Count your blessings. At least she's not hounding you to reproduce.”

I had to laugh out loud at that. “And she never will. She'd hate the idea that anyone would think she was a grandmother. All that Botox wasted. But your mother was different. Her family was everything to her.”

“Overbearing? Traditional? Controlling?”

I lowered my voice, as other people in Cuddleship seemed to find our conversation fascinating. “I don't want to argue about which one of us has the most dysfunctional mother, because I will win, hands-down, every time.”

Margaret nodded. “Sally and I would dispute that. The only one of us who had a normal home was Jack.”

“Speaking of Jack, he's talked his way into the shower.”

She dropped the yellow ducky. “What? Jack's coming?”

“He pointed out that he's one of Sally's oldest and dearest friends. It's going to be Sal, you, me, and Jack. And possibly Pepper.”

“I thought you said it was girls.”

“It was until I stupidly told Jack that Pepper might be there. He's never been to a shower either. Apparently, that bothered him. Anyway, it will be like old times.”

Margaret said, “You mean back when we the biggest losers at St. Jude's?”

“Exactly.”

“That's cool. I can handle it.” She reached to the back of a shelf with pastel fuzzy animals on it and snatched one. “What about this floppy bunny?”

“Nah.”

“But it's so cute. And it's completely useless.” She stroked its ears.

I said, “After yesterday, plush toys are off limits. You heard about my project.”

“The guys in the window sound weird, and your client does too, actually. But, in fairness, the stuffed animals themselves seem pretty harmless.”

“Maybe.”

“You don't think Pepper will show up tonight, do you?”

“She's bluffing to see if she can get under my skin. She hates me, remember? She's ticked off that she didn't get to keep me in jail.”

“Okay. I didn't mean to upset you. Your face is all—”

“I'm going to get this collection of Beatrix Potter books. Look,
Jemima Puddle-Duck
! And
Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
. All the kids will like that. Sally too.”

“You're upset.” Margaret hadn't let go of that bunny.

“Fine. I suffered at her hands, remember? And I think you should get those blocks over there instead of that ridiculous rabbit.”

She raised her voice. “The blocks are boring. And it's not your fault Pepper's slimy husband has the hots for you after all these years.”

I glanced around in a panic. I whispered, “Please don't say that, Margaret. What if someone hears you?”

“You mean Pepper? She's not here.”

“Everyone knows her.” And everyone in the shop was definitely listening.

“Funny, I don't remember you being paranoid before.”

Time for a distraction. “People change. How about this crib mobile? The ladybugs are great.”

“Whatever. Back to Nick the Stick. I saw him make the moves on you in the police station the last time we were there.”

“I've never encouraged him even if she believes I did. And I do everything to avoid him. Let's finish up here. I'm getting the Beatrix Potter books. I've got to arrange the s'mores too.”

“Arrange the s'mores? Aren't they the easiest thing in the world to make?” Margaret picked up the bunny and made for the cashier.

Sometimes a little lawyer goes a long way.

By seven, the gift was wrapped and the card signed. I'd thrown in a set of washable bath crayons for the other kids. I figured the phone call was Margaret ready to be picked up.

“This is Emmy Lou Rheinbeck. I'd like to apologize for yesterday.”

“Please don't; you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do. I had a ridiculous overreaction to a silly prank. I think my emotions had more to do with anxiety about dealing with my collection than anything else. I am sorry to have wasted your time. And I was rude to you too. Naturally, I'll pay you for that visit. I'd like you to come again. This time will go better. I guarantee no stalling on my part. And no panic. That's a promise.”

I said, “Don't worry about it. Panic and stalling are part of the process. And you'll be glad to know they're purely temporary. But I have to admit I was worried about Kevin and Tony. Your neighbors Bill and Bonnie were too.”

She sighed. “Bill is such an old woman, and poor Bonnie's fragile, so easily upset. I know these boys. They don't.”

Bonnie
was easily upset? Emmy Lou had been a zombie yesterday after the bedroom window incident. But I bit my tongue.

Emmy Lou talked on. “And I feel much more in control today. So could you come by?”

“Definitely.”

“Wonderful. I'll put the coffee on. Unless you'd prefer a glass of wine.”

“Oh, you mean
now
?”

“Of course.”

“Sorry, Emmy Lou, but I'm on my way out to a baby shower.”

Disappointment dripped over the phone line. “It won't take long, a few minutes to decide on the next steps. Before I lose my nerve.”

“I wish I could,” I said firmly. I was remembering how Emmy Lou liked to have her own way. “I'm picking someone up in a couple of minutes. She's probably standing outside waiting for me. And we're bringing the food.”

“Oh. We must meet on the weekend, because I'm often at the office late weekdays. Friday was an anomaly.”

My call-waiting beeped and I saw Margaret's cell phone number appear on the display. Time to go. “That's fine. How about tomorrow?”

“I guess that will have to do.” Someone was pouting, for sure.

“I'm glad you reconsidered. Name the time,” I said.

“How about midafternoon. Two thirty?”

“I'll be there. Looking forward to it.”

“Thank you.” Despite the thank-you, Emmy Lou's voice carried the disappointment of a woman who'd had her Saturday-night organizing session squashed.

On the upside, she sounded firm and strong and back in control. I decided she didn't need me worrying about her.

I had managed to wedge the gift, the basket with the graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows, and, of course, the dogs into the Miata when my cell phone rang.

“Dallas is throwing up,” Sally shrieked. “And Madison and Savannah are starting to complain about their tummies.”

Howls and wails echoed on the line.

“Oh boy. What can I do?”

“Nothing, thanks, Charlotte. But it won't be a good night here. I'll be doing the bucket-and-mop routine. And the kids will need my attention. We'll get together when they're better.”

“I'll call Margaret. Let me know if you need anything. I'll come by.”

A loud wail erupted in the background. Sally said, “Nope. It's probably wildly contagious. I don't want you on my conscience. Gotta go.” She hung up with a clatter.

“That was a close call,” Margaret said when I reached her. “Imagine if we'd been there. Yuck.”

“No kidding.” Of course, poor Sally was there, without any help.

“I can use the time at the office. Let me know when the new night is. Oh yeah, and, Charlotte, are you going to call Pepper?”

I left a message for Pepper saying that the so-called shower had been postponed. As soon as I hung up, I realized that Pepper might not get that message from her work phone in time. That is if she intended to go to Sally's. Maybe she'd been yanking my chain. She does like that game.

Now what?

Once I'd known Pepper's home number by heart. But now I had no idea what it was. I figured most police officers don't list their phone numbers for obvious reasons. They don't want perpetrators to have their addresses. But I knew where Pepper lived. Nick Monahan had told me one time when he'd spotted me before I spotted him. He'd leaned in, stared down the front of my blouse, and breathed the news as I backed away from him. That was Nick. The perennial horny adolescent. Only now he and Pepper had bought a house on Old Pine Street.

“How about that,” I'd said. “Just like a grown-up.”

“I hear ya,” he'd said with a sigh. “I'm not so crazy about the house thing. But Pepper sure wanted it. And what Princess Pepper wants…”