Текст книги "Foul Play"

Автор книги: Jeff Shelby

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

THIRTY FOUR

Detective Hanborn was right.

That’s what kept running through my head as we drove home from the cheer competition. We’d stayed for the awards. Moose River Fusion came in second. Greta Mathisen, Maddie and their Cheerlicious Cheetahs came in next to last. Which, in retrospect, seemed like somewhat of a victory in itself. But as we drove home, I just couldn’t shake the idea that all of my conjecture about Amanda having been kidnapped was probably all wrong and Hanborn had been right to smirk at me and dismiss me like I had no clue what I was doing.

“Mom, can we get pizza?” Will asked.

“No. I’m making dinner.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“How about French fries?”

“Oh, fries sound good,” Sophie chimed in.

“And a shake,” Grace said. “No, wait. A smoothie. Mom, can we get smoothies?”

“You all act like I haven’t fed you today,” I said.

“Lunch was hours ago,” Will said. “And we already had to buy our own snacks…”

“Yeah, my candy cost a whole dollar,” Grace said. “And Sophie’s charging incense so I really own her a dollar and ten cents.”

“Interest,” Will corrected her.

I wondered if someone had stuck a sign on me, indicating what buttons to push to get what they wanted. Guilt always worked wonders. And all of these kids knew it.

I pulled into the first fast food restaurant I saw and got into the drive-thru lane. All three kids cheered loudly and, for a split second, it sounded like I’d been transported back to the arena and the cheer competition.

“Shh,” I said, eyeing them in the rearview mirror. “If they can’t hear me, I can’t order.”

They piped down immediately and I ordered them fries and smoothies. Not the best of dinners, but at least there was fruit in their drinks. I hoped.

As we sat idling in the line waiting for our food, I couldn’t fight off the feeling of dejection. I’d been wrong about Madison and Eleanor Bandersand. I’d been wrong about Greta Mathisen. I’d been wrong about everything.

I’d started to warm to Jake’s idea of getting my private investigator’s license. But if I’d missed so badly on this, if my guesses had been completely wrong, I didn’t feel very confident about people eventually paying me money to solve their mysteries. Being curious was far different than being a detective. I was good at being curious, but I wasn’t sure I would be any good at being a detective.

We reached the window and I handed cash out the window to the disinterested clerk. She took it, handed me my change back and told me it would be just another minute.

“Why do they call it fast food if it’s not fast?” Grace asked.

“Because it’s supposed to be fast,” Will answered.

“But it’s not. It’s slow.”

“Yeah, it’s not you like you just drive up and its ready and we can reach in the window and grab it,” Sophie said.

“They should call it slow food,” Grace said.

“That’s dumb,” Will said. “It’s called fast because you pull up, you order, they make it and you pay for it and you drive away. It’s not like when we’re at home and we have to wait forever for Mom to make dinner.”

That got my attention. “Forever? Really?”

“Well, yeah. Sometimes, I’m starving. But if dinner is in two hours, then it’s not fast. But if I drive over here, then it’s fast because I can get it right away.”

“We don’t even have our food yet,” Grace said, frowning in his direction. “So I hope you’re not starving now. Because this is not fast.”

“Fast would be if you ordered French fries and they just handed them to you,” Sophie said. “Before you even paid.”

“Oh whatever,” Will said, leaning his head back. “You don’t even get what I’m saying.”

“Yes we do,” Grace answered. “You’re saying you don’t know the difference between fast and slow.”

She and Sophie high-fived and Will just shook his head.

I smiled. Their conversation had been nonsensical and almost pointless, and I’d loved every second of it. It felt to me like I hadn’t been privy to many of these kinds of conversations lately, the kinds of conversations that were only possible if you were siblings, determined to win an insignificant argument while demonstrating your superior knowledge. They weren’t important and they weren’t life-changing, but they were a part of our daily life and I’d missed them. I loved to hear their bantering and serve as referee when necessary.

My smile disappeared. I knew why I’d missed out on them – and it wasn’t because they’d all magically gotten along for the past few days. I’d missed out because I’d been caught up with the Bandersands and Amanda Pendleton and the play program and a whole lot of other things that weren’t nearly as much fun as my kids.

The drive-thru clerk came back to the window and handed me the smoothies first, then the bag of fries. I passed them back to the kids and pulled away from the window.

“Thanks for the not-so-fast food!” Grace yelled.

“Thank you,” I murmured, turning up the radio.

I was the one who had something to be thankful for.

I’d realized where I needed to be and what I needed to be doing.

And it didn’t involved solving mysteries or getting licenses.

THIRTY FIVE

“I couldn’t ask Jake to take me,” Emily said. “That would be horrible!”

“Why? Do you think he doesn’t know what periods are?”

“Mom!” She looked at me as if I’d just handed her a dead squirrel. “Gross!”

We’d gotten home from the cheer competition and the fast food place and she’d immediately sidled up to me, telling me that we had to go to the drug store immediately because she was out of “girl things.”

“It’s not gross,” I said, pulling into the parking lot of Moose River Drug Emporium. “It’s natural. Everyone has to deal with it. It’s the body—”

“Oh God, seriously, stop,” Emily said, holding up her hand as if it were a shield that might protect her from my words. “You’ve said it to me a hundred times and it’s still gross, okay?”

“All I’m saying is that Jake would’ve been happy to bring you over here,” I told her. “He’s bought mine for me at the store before.”

She moved her hand away from her face. “Seriously?”

“Of course.”

“That must’ve been terrible for him.”

I found a parking spot near the door and killed the engine. “Yes, how terrible for him to have a normal wife.”

“Normal,” she repeated. I didn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. “That’s funny.”

Moose River Drug Emporium was a good way to step back into the past. It was the kind of combination pharmacy– Hallmark-dry goods store that used to be on every Main Street in America. They’d been phased out by the Walgreens and Wal-Marts, but somehow, the Emporium had persevered. It wasn’t always the cheapest place to buy things, but it was close to the house and I didn’t mind spending a little more at a local, independent business. Most of the town felt that way, as it wasn’t uncommon to run into someone you knew while shopping.

“I hope we don’t see anyone we know,” Emily said as the little bell chimed on the inside of the door.

We found the personal care aisle and just as Emily reached for what she wanted, a voice said, “Well, hello Daisy!”

Emily froze and I turned to see who it was.

Olga Stunderson was in the middle of the aisle, smiling at us. We’d met under less than ideal circumstances – her brother’s body had been found in the basement of our home – but after a bumpy beginning when she’d thought I’d murdered him, we’d become friends.

“It’s been awhile,” she said. “How are you?”

“Just fine, Olga,” I said. “How are you?”

I looked her up and down. She’d dyed her hair a dark shade of burgundy and looked like she’d lost a few pounds.

“I’m good, I’m good,” she said. She held up the shopping basket she was holding. “Just here to pick up a little make-up. My machine isn’t working and I’ve got a body waiting.”

“A body?” Emily asked, her hand now down at her side so no one would know why we were standing in the personal care aisle.

“Olga runs the mortuary,” I reminded her.

“Oh, I don’t run it,” Olga said, grinning. “I just make everyone look pretty. You know, for their final destination.”

Emily’s expression was one of horror. “You’re putting make-up on… a dead body?”

“Technically, just on a dead face,” Olga said, nodding. “But, yeah. Jean Blundergood. Passed two days ago. She was ninety-one.”

“So you put it on her…” Emily glanced at the contents of Olga’s basket. “... after she’s dead?”

“Well, she didn’t ask me to do her make-up before she died,” Olga said, chuckling.

Emily’s face paled.

“And I see you’re here for some lady products,” Olga said. She reached out to see what Emily was buying but she thrust her hand behind her back. “What an exciting time to be a young lady!”

“I want to die,” Emily whispered. “Right here.”

She spoke softly but Olga heard her. “At least I’ll be here to do your make-up if you do!”

“I wondered if we might see you over at the play,” I said to Olga, trying to change the subject and buy Emily a little time to recover her lost dignity. “Doing make-up or something.”

I’d heard that she helped out with some of the local theater productions, as time allowed. Jake and I had both wondered if ‘time allowed’ was code for number of clients she had waiting in the mortuary.

She looked baffled for a moment, and then it cleared, replaced by recognition. “Oh, the Snow White production, right? Normally, I’d be happy to help out. But, um, Eleanor and I don’t get along so well, so I didn’t even bother to volunteer my services anymore.”

This was news to me, although I couldn’t say I was surprised. “You don’t get along?”

“She hired me once to do her daughter’s make-up for an audition down in Minneapolis,” Olga said. Her small eyes widened a fraction. “Her daughter didn’t get the part and she decided my work was the reason she didn’t get a callback. She came to me and wanted a refund. I asked for some sort of proof that the make-up was the problem and she just got nasty about it.” She smiled. “I told her I had a no refund policy. She didn’t take too kindly to that, and we haven’t really spoken since.”

That sounded very much like Eleanor.

“Which is a shame,” Olga said. “Because I really do like kids.” Her gaze drifted to Emily. “Are yours in the play?”

“The two younger girls,” I said.

“Oh, fun,” she said. Then her smile dimmed. “Well, I guess it hasn’t been all fun. I heard about the Pendleton girl.”

“Yes, it’s been a bit...challenging.”

“I’m sure,” Olga said. She shifted the basket to her other hand. “The girl hasn’t come back?’

I shook my head.

“A shame,” Olga said. “But, you know, not like this is the first time.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Emily drifted a few feet away from us. I knew the only thing she wanted to do was buy what she was holding and get back in the car and go home. But it had been a while since I’d talked to Olga and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return to the mortuary. And even though I’d taken myself off the case of finding Amanda Pendleton, I was still curious about her and still interested in what Olga had to say.

“I’d heard she’d gotten herself back on track,” Olga said. “Friend of mine, her daughter goes to school with her. And we handled their great aunt’s service not too long ago. She was a very nice, polite girl.” She looked past me to Emily. “About her age, right?”

“Yes, I believe so,” I said. “So, yeah, it’s been a bit of a struggle. But the production is this weekend, so we made it through.”

“Oh, good. Maybe I’ll try and come.” She scowled. “As long as that nitwit Eleanor stays out of my way. And her stupid daughter, too.”

“I don’t think you’ll see much of either of them,” I said. “Eleanor will probably be backstage the whole time and the only place you’ll see Madison is on stage, since she’s taking over the Snow White role.”

Olga snorted. “Great. Another production where she’s the star. Well, I wouldn’t be coming to see her fat face – but I would come to support your little girls.”

I stifled a laugh. Olga was nothing if she wasn’t direct. I’d been a victim of her wrath before and she had never been one to mince words. “That would be lovely.”

“Well, I should get back to Jean with this foundation.” She picked up the tube from her basket. “This stuff is great. It’s not like my airbrush make-up – stupid thing broke again, can you believe it? – but it offers great coverage for dead—I mean, pale skin.”

I thought I heard Emily gag.

“And I should let you finish picking out your special purchases,” she said, winking at Emily.

Emily whirled on her heels and marched for the cash register.

Olga waved and tottered off down the aisle.

I hurried to catch up with my mortified daughter. “So, what were you saying about not seeing anyone we know?”

THIRTY SIX

“You’ll have to take them to the dress rehearsal,” I said to Jake. “Since I’m still banned.”

“I thought you had some breakthrough conversation with the crazy woman at the grocery store,” Jake said.

“She spoke to me,” I said. “But she didn’t un-ban me.”

We were folding laundry up in our bedroom, the freshly dried load of clothes in a mountain on our bed.

“Look, if anyone says you are banned, I will be happy to set them straight.”

“I don’t want to make a scene,” I said. “And I don’t want you to, either.”

“Since when do you not want to make a scene?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I swatted him with a sock. “I don’t like making scenes. They just… find me.”

“Weird how that happens, “ Jake mumbled.

“So, you’ll take them.” I said this more as a statement than a question.

“No. We will.” He grabbed a T-shirt and shook it before folding it in half. “Look, we paid for the girls to be a part of the show. You designed the program thing. We’ve shown up for everything that’s been required. There’s absolutely no way she is banning you from the theater.”

“But if she still thinks I’m banned, I don’t want to cause problems by showing up.  I don’t want to make it awkward for the girls,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “The only that might be awkward is if I have take that Eleanor woman and stuff her in a costume trunk. Because I’m not sure she’ll fit. You’re going to the dress rehearsal and the performances. End of story.”

I rolled a pair of socks together and said nothing. I appreciated that he defended me no matter what, and I had no doubt he actually would stuff Eleanor into a costume trunk if he had to. He’d have no problem telling Eleanor that he was going to lock the entire theater up and keep everyone out until she let me in, if that was what it took.

But I really was leery of causing a scene and bringing attention to the girls. I didn’t want them to be embarrassed in front of the other kids, or to think I was causing some sort of problem for them. As much as Sophie liked to act and Grace begged for the spotlight, I didn’t like making them the center of attention for something they hadn’t done.

“Stop fretting over it,” Jake said, eyeing me over the shrinking mountain of laundry. “It’ll be fine.”

“Says the guy who isn’t banned.”

“There is no ban!” he said. “What is she going to do? Stand at the door and wait for you to come through it? No, she’ll be backstage, yelling her brains out, like always. And, no, before you even suggest it, she won’t have provided a banned list to whoever is working the door. It’s not like we have to provide I.D. to get in.”

“Maybe we will,” I said. “Maybe she’ll have, like, eye scanners or something.”

“Yes. There will probably be eye scanners. That seems reasonable and possible. I mean, it is Moose River.”

I threw a pair of underwear at him, but he ducked and it sailed over his head, landing on the windowsill.

“I just don’t want it to be an issue,” I told him.

“It won’t be. I promise.”

We finished folding the laundry, and I delivered the stacks to the appropriate rooms. Jake stayed in our room and I found him sprawled on his back on the bed, his hands behind his stomach, his eyes closed.

“Laundry wear you out?” I asked, setting the white laundry basket on the scuffed wood floor.

He opened his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Really glad I have, like, a job where I have to leave the house. Not sure how you get all of this done on a daily basis.”

“I’m pretty amazing,” I said, dropping onto the bed next to him. “I’m like bionic or something.”

“Or something.”

We laid there in silence for a few minutes, both of us staring at the ceiling, enjoying the quiet. My leg pressed into his thigh and he shifted closer, bringing his full length alongside me.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said.

“So?”

“You’re never quiet.”

“That is not true!”

“Daisy.” The word was almost a reprimand.

We lay there for another minute before I sighed.

“I’m not sure I can be a detective,” I finally told him.

“Why is that?”

“Because I’ve been totally wrong about Amanda,” I said. “Everyone maintained that she probably just ran away. But I kept looking at everyone as a suspect. Well, guess what? All of my suspects? Pretty sure they didn’t do anything.”

“Isn’t that called...investigating?” he asked.

“Investigating badly,” I clarified. “I think I just need to remember that I’m a mom and a wife first, and everything else second. Chef, chauffeur, maid, teacher. But investigator? That shouldn’t even rank.”

“You know, I love you as a mom and a wife,” he said, rolling onto his side. He put his arm over me. “You’re great at being both. And you run this house better than I ever could. And you teach these kids better than any school could because you know them – you know how their brains work and what they’ll respond to. But I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to be just those things. One of the reasons I brought up investigating was because I thought you were bored, like I told you. Like you needed something else. If you ever want something else, I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have the option of going and getting it.”

I laid my hand over his. “Thank you. For saying that, and for meaning it. But I’m gonna focus on you and the kids for awhile.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly. “Really, truly?”

“Yes,” I said. “The kids were just jabbering in the car earlier and realized I hadn’t heard that in awhile,” I explained. “Because I don’t think I’ve been listening. And I don’t want to be one of those moms that all of a sudden wakes up and my kids are gone.”

“Yeah, an empty house sounds...terrible.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, elbowing him. “I don’t want to blink and have them be adults. I like them as kids. I don’t want to miss out because I’m preoccupied with things that don’t matter.”

He nodded. “That’s fine with me, Daisy. I get it. I really do.”

“So I will be more present here at home. And I will keep my nose to myself and stop putting it in other people’s business.”

He chuckled. “You really think you can do that?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Be supportive,” I reminded him.

His expression turned serious. “I just want you be happy.”

“I am happy.”

And occupied.”

I rolled into him and laid my head on his chest I looked up at him. “I am occupied.”

He grinned. “And banned.”

I arched an eyebrow. Jake could never be serious for long. It was one of the things I loved most about him. He knew when I needed support and he knew when I needed humor injected into a situation or conversation.

“I thought you were going to get me unbanned.”

He put his arm around me and hugged me, kissing the top of my head. “Nobody bans my wife. Nobody.”

THIRTY SEVEN

“Mom!” Grace yelled. “I can’t find my hat! I forgot my hat! For my costume!”

“It’s on your head, “ Sophie told her.

Grace reached up and patted her head. “Found it!”

We were all piled into the minivan – except for Emily who had elected to stay home to do homework – on our way to the dress rehearsal. Will was in the backseat and I was fairly certain that he’d come along just to see what would happen with the whole banned situation. I assumed he was hoping for some sort of showdown.

I was not.

“What about my hat?” I asked, glancing in the mirror on the visor.

I’d grabbed one of Emily’s wool beanies, a soft pink and white striped one that I’d pulled on to my head and had now tugged so far down that all of my hair was inside of it and my eyes were barely visible. I thought I might be able to disguise my way in.

“We’re just going to walk right in,” Jake said, reading my mind. “We aren’t going to make a big deal about it and we aren’t going to ask. Plus, since it’s rehearsal, it’s not like there will be an admission table or anything like that.” He glanced over at me. “It’ll be fine.”

“Just make sure you have cash for bail if we need it.”

He shook his hand and turned the van into the high school parking lot. “We don’t need cash. Plus, bail bonds places take credit cards.”

“That’s reassuring.” I glanced at him. “And slightly disconcerting that you actually know this.”

He grinned. “I know lots of things.”

The parking lot closest to the theater entrance at the high school was already mostly full when we got there, and families were hustling into the theater. Like Sophie and Grace, most kids had arrived in costume. There were deer and rabbits, and a couple of little kids dressed as birds. Several tall trees walked awkwardly across the lot, their gangly branches swaying in the autumn breeze. A couple other dwarfs were being ushered toward the door and a teenager dressed as the gnarled old witch walked behind them, munching on an apple. I hoped it wasn’t her prop. Two moms were stationed at the door, directing everyone where to go.

My hands clenched into tight fists and I took a deep breath.

Jake noticed. He reached over and touched my hand. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

“You take them in first,” I said.

“Daisy—”

“Just do it,” I said, lowering my voice. I didn’t want the girls to hear. “So if there’s any issue they don’t have to be a part of it.”

“I’ll stay,” Will said.

Jake’s mouth twisted for a moment, uncertain what he wanted to do. Then he sighed. “Alright. I’ll give you five minutes. But if you aren’t in there, I’m coming back out to get you and I’ll carry you in over my shoulder.”

“That wouldn’t get anyone’s attention at all.”

“You’ve been warned,” he said, pushing his door open. “See you inside.”

I watched him walk off, a dwarf attached to each of his hands.

“How long are we waiting?” Will asked.

“Maybe an hour?”

“Mom. No.”

I sighed. “I know. Just a minute or two.”

“The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be,” he said. “We should just go.”

“You sound like Jake.”

“You should also know that I’m supposed to text him updates if we’re still sitting in the car.”

I twisted in my seat. “What? He did not say anything like that.”

“Before we left the house,” he said. “He said he’d pay me five bucks if I’d text him every minute we stayed out here.”

“He didn’t even know I was going to stay in the car!”

“Well, I guess he did,” Will said. “Or he just guessed right.”

Stupid, clairvoyant husband.

“I’ll pay you six bucks not to text him,” I said.

Will tilted his head, considering my offer. “I don’t know,” he answered. “He’ll pay me the five and sometimes he tips me.”

“Ten.”

“Deal. But if we stay out here too long and he doesn’t hear from me, he’s going to come looking for me.”

“We’re at least going to sit here for a few minutes so he has to wonder why you aren’t texting him,” I said. “I want my money’s worth.”

Will chuckled and shrugged.

I hated that I disliked confrontation so much. I just wanted everyone to get along. Especially with me. I didn’t like being singled out and I didn’t like anyone thinking I’d done anything wrong, even when I knew that I hadn’t.

“Uh, Mom,” Will said, interrupting my thoughts. “Jake says we need to come in.”

“Well, duh. He’s trying to get you to earn that five dollars.”

“No, this is different,” he said. “He says we need to hurry up. I think something’s wrong.”

I pictured broken zippers and missing buttons from the kids’ costumes. That was definitely not Jake’s department. Or mine, either, if I were being honest. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t text him and he’s just saying we need to come inside now.”

I frowned. “Feels like a trap.”

“I don’t think so, Mom.”

“Fine,” I said, sighing. “Let’s go.”

The wind whipped at our faces as we headed toward the entrance. Leaves skittered across the parking lot, crunching under our feet as we walked. I glanced up at the sky. Thick gray clouds bloomed on the horizon and I wondered if they would be bringing rain or snow when they arrived. I hadn’t checked the forecast before we left but the air felt cold enough for the latter.

“What are we going to do?” Will asked, his chin tucked to his chest.

“We’re going to walk in,” I said. “And hope they don’t slap handcuffs on me.”

“I don’t think they have handcuffs.”

“Stop being reasonable,” I said to him as we stepped up on the curb. “And you’re going first and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Do I stop if they stop you?”

“No. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

“You’re being a spaz, Mom. And I can barely see your face, your hat is pulled down so low.”

“Exactly. Now lead the way.”

We approached the door and I was right on his heels. The mom on the left smiled at Will as we went through the door, then nodded at me. The other mom wasn’t even looking at us.

Will stopped to unzip his jacket and stomp his shoes on the rubber mat just inside the door, dislodging the bits of crushed leaves stuck in the grooves of his sneakers.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered. “We’re in.”

“Mom, seriously,” he said, still wiping his feet. “I think Jake is right. No one cares.”

“You’re only saying that because you weren’t banned,” I whispered at him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Daisy.”

I whirled around.

Annabelle Kingston stood behind me, clutching the hands of two little boys. She smiled at me, a tired, harried smile crossing her face. “I can’t believe we made it to the dress rehearsal.”

“Is Bashful all ready to go?” I asked, referring to her son in the play.

She nodded. “As ready as he’ll ever be.” One of the boys tugged on her hand and she smiled a goodbye and allowed herself to be pulled away.

We walked down the ramp that led away from the entry and around to the hallway that ran in front of the theater. I saw Jake standing at the end of the hallway, his hands on his hips, his back to us. He was talking to someone but I couldn’t see whom.

“There’s Jake,” Will said, pointing.

“Shh!” I hissed. “It might be someone who wants me kicked out of here!”

“Then why would he have told us to come in?”

“Just slow down,” I said, ignoring his logic.

We wove in and out of the groups of parents standing outside the theater. I kept my head down and my hat pulled low on my head. If anyone was looking at me, I couldn’t tell because I was doing my best not to make eye contact with anyone. I was already pleased to have made it this far inside the high school and now I was thinking I actually might be able to get inside and watch the dress rehearsal.

I stepped around a short man shaped like a bowling ball. Will was standing next to Jake. I tapped Jake on the shoulder, feeling like I’d just navigated a minefield.

He turned around and when he did, I could finally see who he was talking to.

Stella Gardner.

Jake’s ex-wife.