The Plague Doctor (15 page)

Chapter Thirty

Cassie decided that she had recovered enough from her emotional outburst to drive us to Mabel's. I had to poke her twice in the ribs on the way to the car to keep her from laughing out loud in front of the watching policemen. When Andy had gone, I found her in my bedroom in a state of great hilarity. She seemed to have grown into my unfortunate habit of laughing uncontrollably under stress. Oh, well, I thought, it was better than crying.

As we pulled out of the drive, I noticed one of the police cars circle around to come after us.

“That bastard is following us!”

“Paisley, please.”

Mother turned and looked out the rear window.

“Well, I'll be damned!”

“Like mother, like daughter,” laughed Cassie.

“This is intolerable. I will not stand for it. Put the pedal to the metal, Paisley, dear. Let him eat our dust.”

“You've been watching too many old movies, Mother. Besides, we're almost there.”

The Jones' homestead was already beginning to give little hints to stress in the family. For the first time in my memory the grass on the five acres around the house was high and needed cutting. The fast-growing weeds were poking up along the picket fence in patches, and toys were scattered around the front steps.

“Looks like Apollo has his hands full.”

“I'll send Billy out to cut the lawn this afternoon. He won't mind. He thinks the world of Apollo.”

“Great idea, Mother. From the looks of him I don't think Mr. Jones is going to argue with you.”

Apollo was standing at the open door with his youngest on his hip and the other two at his knees. The children looked like they were glued in place. Their eyes were big and frightened. Something was wrong.

I parked quickly and jumped out of the car.

“Apollo, is Mabel….?”

He smiled tiredly, “She's fine. Don't worry about her. The baby's fine, too. He's been kicking up a storm.”

Apollo stood aside and ushered us in the house. I wouldn't say it was in shambles, but it was obvious that the woman of the house was out of commission.

Mother and Cassie stayed in the living room with Apollo and the children for a moment to hand around some games and puzzles we brought for them, but I was anxious to see the patient.

Mabel was sitting up in bed working on some mending. The color was back in her cheeks and she looked one hundred percent better. She put her work down and smiled up at me.

“Oh, it's good to see you, Miss Paisley. Thanks for coming. Sorry for the bother.”

“You look great, Mabel. How's the soccer player?”

She smiled and patted her middle. “If he's this active when he's born, then we're in big trouble!”

Apollo came in the bedroom and went around to the other side of the bed to sit beside his wife. That's when I noticed the window on the other side of the bedroom had been forced open. The lock was hanging loose and the screen had a big hole in it.

“Apollo! What happened? Did you have a break in?”

“That's why we called you, Miss Paisley. We didn't know whether or not to call the police.” He looked down and studied the bed quilt with great interest.

“Why wouldn't you call them?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes indeed,” agreed Mother, as she entered the room and heard our conversation, “you simply must call them. It's about time they chased after a real criminal for a change.”

“Well, we heard on the radio this morning that Miss Cassandra's young man had escaped from the prison in Teddyville. You all have been so kind…there's no way we would cause you any more trouble.”

“Oh, Apollo, Ethan wouldn't have tried to break into your house. He would never endanger you or Mabel. That's something I'm sure of,” I insisted.

“Then who could it have been?” asked Mabel. “I didn't see a thing. It was too dark, and Apollo was sleeping with little Isaiah. He's frightened because I've been sick, you know. Anyway, I heard a sound and looked up and saw a man climbing in the window. He almost got inside. I started screaming and Apollo come running in and scared him away.”

“By the time I got outside, he was gone. I never seen where he come from or where he went,” admitted Apollo with a shake of his head. “We didn't hear no automobile, that's why we thought it might have been young McHenry. They said he escaped on foot.”

“There's no way Ethan would do such a thing. It must have been just a plain thief.”

I tried to convince them of that fact, but I was beginning to think something entirely different myself.

“Apollo, you look like you could use some help,” said Mother in an attempt to change the subject. “I'm sending Billy Bennett out here this afternoon. He's got some free time until my back field has to be cut. I'm sure he be more than happy to take care of your lawn and maybe help some with the animals.”

He raised his hands in protest, but she was insistent. “Never mind arguing with me. You know me too well for that.”

Mabel laughed, “I told him this morning when he brought me breakfast in bed that he was gettin' properly henpecked.”

Her husband looked at her fondly, “There ain't nothin' wrong about bein' henpecked if you're pecked by the right hen.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Since Mother didn't know how long she would be at Miss Lolly's, Cassie and I decided to take her back home so she could take her own car and not have to worry about us. We said goodbye and headed towards town. The police car stayed persistently behind us at every turn. I wondered if one would follow Mother, too.

“Damn! He's on my tail tighter than a tick.”

“Want to have some fun, Mom?”

“Sure. Tell me how.”

Cassie looked back at the policeman trailing us in the squad car. “Turn down West Market Street and pull into the gas station on the corner.

I followed her instructions exactly. The car behind us followed me.

“Now pull into the car wash.”

“But Watson doesn't need…”

“Just do it, Mom, please.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and got up on her knees to see out of the rear window. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“He's right behind us. This is going to be great!”

“I hope so, we're about due for some fun. What now?”

“I'll run in and pay for the wash. But wait for me to drive inside, okay?”

She was in and out and back in two seconds flat. We pulled slowly into the entrance of the car wash until the red light turned on. Water and soap started raining down in great quantities on Watson's roof.

“It's so hard to see. Wait a minute.”

She crawled quickly over the seat into the back and peered out of the rear window.

“Yes!” she shouted. “He's pulling around to the exit of the car wash on the next street over. That's where he'll wait for us. It's on the other side of the building. The schmuck will never see us leave. Wait a sec, Mom, and then back out fast and go the other way.”

“But won't it hurt something? I mean, those brushes are huge. We could get stuck.”

“We can wait until the rinse cycle. The brushes will go up then. I'll tell you when.”

We waited for a moment in delicious anticipation.

“Now! Now! Back out now, Mom!”

I threw Watson into reverse and screeched out of the car wash. One of the big revolving brushes started descending, but we got out from under it just in time. We flew out of the gas station flinging soap suds and water in our wake. Cassie was laughing hysterically in the back, but I was too busy trying to see through the suds on the windscreen to share in the hilarity.

“Turn on the windshield wipers, for God's sake!” she laughed.

“Oops! I should have thought of that. I must be getting old.”

Cassie climbed back in the seat beside me. She was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“You'll never be too old for anything, Mom. That's what's so great about you.”

“Just remember that when you have to roll me to one of your capers in a wheelchair.”

“Any time, Mom, any time.”

She settled back down in her seat and buckled her safety belt.

“What now?” she asked. “It's your turn.”

“I've been thinking.”

“That's another thing I love about you, Mom. You're just like Winnie the Pooh. You think and think until you've thunk it through.”

“Seriously, Cassie, remember the other night-time intruder in Baxter's office?”

“The mysterious arsonist?”

“Exactly! I think it was Dr. Edgar Baxter himself.”

“Doc Baxter? But why would he set his own office on fire? For the insurance?”

“I don't think so. I'm not sure why, but I believe he was trying to destroy evidence.”

“Evidence of what? He hasn't done anything wrong, has he?”

“Let's go ask him. Are you up for it?”

“Wahoo! Lay on, MacDuff!”

Thirty years ago, Edgar Baxter and his wife Julie built a lovely home on fifty acres of rolling farm land between Rowan Springs and the lake. Julie had been a fine arts major in college, and she was an avid collector. The large modern cedar shake home was a series of boxes on many levels, with lots of windows to let in light from all directions. Julie hated artificial light. “It changes one's perception of colors,” she had once told me. “I like to see things as they were meant to be, not as they appear under the glare of one hundred watt bulbs.”

As we came closer to the big house on the hill, I realized that Winston Wallace had made a poor attempt at copying this imposing structure when he had designed his office. He must have either admired, or envied, Edgar Baxter a great deal.

I was startled for a moment as a police car suddenly appeared behind us with siren blasting and lights flashing.

“Damn! We didn't lose him for long.”

“Is that for us, Mom? Does he want you to pull over?”

“I don't…No! Look, he's pulling in front. He must have been called to an accident. Good riddance! I was wondering how we were going to be able to talk to the doctor in private.”

The car in front of us sped away and then braked in the distance and turned into the driveway leading to the big house on the hill.

“For pity's sake. What's he doing that for?” I wondered. “Great! Now we'll have to explain why we brought along our little escort.”

“Do you think Dr. Baxter will talk to us with the police here?”

“All we can do is try, hun.”

We followed the police car into the driveway and up the hill. We were not the only visitors Edgar Baxter had that day. The asphalt apron in front of his garage was full of vehicles, including an ambulance. One of Rowan Springs' finest came over to my window as I pulled up to park.

“‘Fraid you'll have to leave, Miss. There's been an accident. This here is an investigation.”

“But, Officer, I'm a friend of Dr. Baxter. Perhaps I can help.”

“Can't nothin' help him no more, if you get my drift. Now turn around, please, and go back where you came from.”

I was stunned. This morning I had convinced myself that Edgar Baxter was the mastermind behind a lot of the weird things that had been going on. Mother hadn't seen him enter his office the night it burned down because she left to answer a call of nature, but I was positive that he was the one who had walked down that dark hallway and set the fire. There must have been incriminating evidence in his office that he needed to dispose of. He had to have something to do with Ethan's mystery. Why else would he have refused to talk to a colleague from the Centers for Disease Control? That was a big opportunity for a doctor from a small town. He might have gotten his name on paper in a famous medical journal. Now he was dead, and my theory was shot to hell.

“Oh, my,” breathed Cass. “This will really upset, Gran. She liked that old man”

I struggled to extricate Watson from the tangle of cars in the driveway without scraping any fenders. That would be a bummer. A fitting end to my morning.

“Hey! Hey! Stop that car!”

I heard the shouting over the sound of the engine and looked in the rear view mirror. Andy Joiner was running after us.

“Terrific! First he sends a cop car to follow us and now he's doing it on foot!”

“I think he wants you to stop, Mom. Better do it before he has a heart attack. I don't think he's really in shape to run much further.”

“Let's see,” I teased.

“Oh, Mom, don't be mean.”

“Yeah? And what if he tries to pin Doc Baxter's ‘accident' on your little friend Ethan.”

“Then, I guess we'd better stop and let him tell us what happened.”

“Oh, well,” I sighed, “you may be right. Let's see what he wants.”

I pulled Watson over to the edge of the lush green lawn and turned off the engine. Andy Joiner lunged against the side of the car and leaned heavily on my door while he caught his breath.

“P…aisley,” he panted, “c…can you please come back up to the house?” He took a deep breath. “Maybe you can help us with something.”

“Sure thing, Chief!” I grinned wickedly at him. “Always delighted to cooperate with the powers that be.”

He gave me a sour look and turned to trudge back up the hill.

“Want a ride, Chief? You look a little out of shape there. Be glad to give you a lift.”

He made an obvious effort to try and pull in the little pot belly his wife's good cooking had encouraged over the years and doggedly climbed the steep drive while I slowly drove beside him

“Mom, give the poor guy a break,” whispered Cassie.

“Shhh! You had your idea of fun. Now I'm having mine.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Andy recovered from his exertions while I parked the car. His color was still high, and he was sweating like a horse, but he managed to maintain his dignity in front of the other officers.

“We can enter the house through the garage,” he said stiffly, as he pointed the way. “Follow me, please.”

Andy's polite demeanor made me ashamed of the way I had teased him. He kept up a running conversation as we entered the house. I missed most of what he said while I stared in awe at the beautiful paintings Julie Baxter had obtained since I had last been a guest in her home. The walls of the long hallway leading from the kitchen to the main part of the house served as a sort of minor art gallery. A series of skylights overhead opened up the narrow passage to the bright sunlight. The space was filled with the brilliant colors of paintings hung all along the expanse. It was a dazzling spectacle.

“…perhaps the young lady would like to wait here with Officer Harley.”

“Do I have to, Mom?”

From the grim look on Joiner's face he wasn't going to change his mind.

“I guess so, Cassie. I'll be right back.”

I hadn't heard what Joiner was saying as we entered the house, so I was not at all prepared for the horrible sight of Dr. Edgar Baxter sprawled across his big walnut desk with a large ragged hole in his head and brain tissue leaking out across his blotter.

“Uhhh…My Lord! Oh God, I didn't know.”

Andy came from behind and supported me as I backed up and sat down heavily in a big leather armchair. Blackness washed over my vision for a moment, and I found it hard to breathe. My thoughts scattered, searching desperately for something trivial, something other than the scene of violent death confronting me.

I finally managed a deep breath and sat back in the soft comfort of old leather as my vision cleared. I found myself thinking that this was just the sort of chair I had always wanted for the library on the farm. I wondered absently where Edgar, or maybe Julie, had found it. I put my hands palms down on the seat next to my thighs to push myself deeper into the enfolding leather. As I moved back, my fingers brushed against what felt like a glass tube. I gently folded it into my palm, hoping Andy hadn't noticed.

“Are you all right, Paisley?”

“What? Oh…I guess so.”

Andy crossed over to a small table in the room and poured me a glass of water. As soon as I was sure he wasn't looking, I put the glass vial in my pocket. When he turned back to me, I took a sip from the glass of water he offered, then wet my fingers and rubbed my temples.

“I was just…I didn't know about…” I stammered, feeling the sting of tears in my nose and throat.

“I guess you didn't hear me before.”

He knelt on one knee in front of me and examined my face carefully.

“Do you need to leave? You don't have to stay, you know.”

I patted his big shoulder gratefully and then blew my nose on one of the tissues he offered.

“I'm sorry I made you run up the hill. It was mean of me.”

He laughed. It was a big booming laugh, and somehow it cleared the room of ghosts. The lifeless body that had once been our dedicated family doctor had become a pitiful and gruesome object, but one I was finally able to deal with.

“What happened to him?” I asked in a voice that was still a little shaky.

“Well, from the looks of him I would say he's a goner,” he answered sardonically

The memory of Joiner huffing and puffing up the driveway gave me a moment's pleasure. Apology be damned!

“I would agree,” I responded with careful dignity. “The question was meant to be how did it happen?”

“We found a shotgun on the floor beside the desk. It would appear that it was the murder, or maybe even suicide, weapon.”

“You think he might have killed himself? But why? Was there a note? There always has to be a note.”

“Whoa there! You're way ahead of us. I don't have access to a whole lot of forensic science here in Rowan Springs. The state folks are sending down some specialists to help look for things like powder burns and bullet angles. We'll have to wait until some of those tests come back to say much more.”

“Andy, you don't fool me. You may be a country cop now, but you used to be a big city detective. You've seen a lot of murders. The story around town is that's why you moved your family here three years ago—to get away from all the violence. I'm sure you know more intuitively than any fancy forensic specialist can tell.”

He stared at the discarded flesh and bone that used to be Edgar Baxter. He hadn't known Edgar Baxter as well as my mother had—as a trusted physician and friend. To Andy, the body in front of him was just the focus of another crime scene.

“And just why should I share that intuitive knowledge with you?” he asked politely.

There wasn't a trace of the old country-boy accent he sometimes affected in his voice.

It felt weird grinning in a room that was beginning to stink of death, but nevertheless, I gave him a big one.

“You don't have to, but I think you want to. You are as fascinated by violent death as I am. That's why you became a policeman in the first place. You may have moved back here because of Constance and the girls, but you still share my morbid curiosity about the criminal mind.”

“Or the reasons why decent, normal people become criminals,” he added.

“Exactly!”

“I've heard you're as cunning as your mother. Are you giving me a snow job?”

“Maybe.”

He laughed again. This time I joined in.

“Well, I can tell you that we didn't find a note. The shotgun is a fancy collector's item which shouldn't be hard to trace and…Are you sure you're all right? You still look a little pale.”

“I'm fine now, really. What did you want to ask me? Why did you bring me here in the first place?”

“Under…well, underneath the body we found a laptop computer. There were no identifying marks on it, but a disc inside had several chapters and some notes for a novel. The author is Leonard Paisley?”

I tried to get up, but Andy gently held me in the chair.

“Believe me, Paisley, this is as close as you want to get.”

“Edgar Baxter was the one who stole my computer? I can't believe it.”

This wasn't a part of my theory at all. I never figured the town's leading physician for a sneak thief.

“Why didn't you report the theft? That little piece of plastic and technology must have cost you a pretty penny. And a work in progress, with all your notes? That can't be unimportant to you either. Why didn't you call it in?”

I couldn't tell him the truth, not just yet, anyway. And I couldn't think fast enough to tell a lie that would sound like the truth. I fell back on that ancient weapon of southern womanhood: I pretended to swoon. I'm sure Andy didn't fall for it, but he had no choice. He called for someone to help him carry me outside to the car. Cassandra ran alongside us, her eyes wide with alarm.

“My Mom, is she all right?”

I moaned loudly to announce my pretended return to consciousness.

“She'll be just fine. Just let her get some fresh air. And here…”

The icy cold water was totally unexpected. Andy had dumped a big soft drink cup of the stuff over my head. I came up gasping, cursing, and damning the man for getting in the last word!

“She's fine. You can take her home now,” he said to Cassie with a huge grin. “Tell her we'll call if we need anything else. And here…” He handed her a computer disc. “Here's her book. We'll need to keep the laptop for a while but there's no reason for her not to have the disc. I know how much it means to her.”

Cassie helped her poor dazed mother into the car and hopped into the driver's seat.

“Get me out of here now!” I whispered, trying not to move my lips.

Cassie turned startled eyes on me, “Mom! You're all right!”

“Move it on out!”

“Okay! Okay!”