Текст книги "Foul Play"

Автор книги: Jeff Shelby

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THIRTEEN

“There was a boy? In this house?” Jake asked as we got into bed later that night.

Andy’s mother, Catherine, picked him up at four-thirty on the button, thanking us profusely for giving him temporary housing. I’d assured her it was no big deal. She was as nice and polite as I’d found Andy to be. Emily quickly disappeared back into her room after he left and the other kids peppered her with questions during dinner until I shut them down. Jake had worked late, missing out on the drama, so I was filling him in.

“There’s usually two boys, hello. You and Will.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, there was an unfamiliar boy in our house this afternoon,” I said. “And he was perfectly polite and nice. And cute.”

“Did you tell him we put the dead bodies in the basement?” he asked.

“Ha. No. There was no need. He was a very nice kid. And do you remember the kid that was hanging around her at the talent show? The one with the violin?”

“I do.”

I tapped him on the chest. “That’s Andy. That’s him.”

Jake grunted. “Hmm. Still. You should’ve mentioned the dead bodies and that he would fit nicely in the secret underground body holding cell.”

“She’s a teenager. There are going to be boys,” I reminded him. “You were a boy.”

“Yeah and you remember what I was like in high school, don’t you?”

I did. He’d been handsome and funny and a smart ass and a terrific kisser. He hadn’t really changed all that much.

“I do,” I told him. “And I’d be thrilled if Emily found a boy like you.”

“They will try to touch her,” he warned. “And kiss her. And… and do the other things!”

I patted his chest. “Yes. Because this is the real world and we have an attractive daughter who likes boys. Life happens.”

He groaned. “I don’t like thinking about that. I wanna be here the next time Randy comes over.”

“Andy.”

“Whatever. I need to have a talk with him.”

I laughed and shook my head. I loved that he thought of Emily as his own. We’d never really done the whole awkward stepparent thing. Given that their own dad wasn’t around all that often, all three of my own kids had taken to Jake immediately and he’d reciprocated. They didn’t call him dad but he was the one who helped Emily with projects; he was the one who threw the football around with Will and analyzed game scores; he was the one who’d taught Grace how to swim. There hadn’t been an awkward transitional period of everyone feeling each other out and getting to know each other. We’d just sort of become a family, just like that.

But he was a bit of an overprotective bear and I was going to have to try to temper that.

A knock on the door interrupted us.

“Come in,” he said.

The door squeaked open and Emily poked her head in. “Not asleep yet?”

“Nope,” he said. “Come on in.”

She shuffled into the room, her hair wet from her shower, her long-sleeve T-shirt spattered with drops of water. She perched herself on the foot of the bed. “So.”

“So,” I said.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked.

“For trying to bring a boy home and get me to stay away from the house?” I said. “Trouble is probably a little too strong. But you do need to be admonished.”

She frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that if Andy is going to be a regular visitor to our home, we need to lay down some ground rules,” I explained.

“And rule number one is that I have to be home the next time any boy comes over,” Jake said.

“Why?” Em asked.

“So I can inspect them. And put the fear of me into them.”

Emily opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off.

“Ignore him,” I told her. “But let’s get clear on the rules. First off, no boys in the house unless an adult is home. Period.”

“He didn’t have anywhere to go,” she objected.

“He could’ve stayed at school,” I said. “And you could’ve asked me to come home so I’d be here. Instead, you tried to get cute. Unfortunately for you, your mother is sharp like broken glass and I sniffed out your little plan.”

“Nothing was going to happen, Mom.” Her eyes were wide. “I swear.”

“And I believe you,” I told her. “But no boys in the house unless I’m home or Jake’s home.”

She frowned, but nodded. “Okay.”

“Rule number two,” I said. “If you decide you’re going to have sex with—”

“Mom!!!”

“—Andy, then let me know and we can talk about contraceptive options.”

“Oh my God, Mom. Just stop.”

Jake was trying not to laugh.

“What?” I asked, looking at both of them. “I’m serious. I want you to know that you can talk to me about those things. Because they are going to happen. I want you to ask questions.”

“Mom, we haven’t even kissed!” Emily said, her face bright red.

“Has he tried?” Jake asked, leaning forward. “Has he tried to kiss you?”

“No,” she said, completely exasperated. “No. And oh my God, I never should have come up here.”

“And rule number three,” I said, ignoring her. “No going to his house unless there’s an adult there.”

“I don’t even know if I’m ever going there.”

“So now we’re prepared in case that does happen,” I told her. “Are we clear?”

“Yes,” she said. “Are those all the rules?”

“For now,” I said. “Until I come up with more.”

She pushed off the bed. “Great. Goodnight.” She sighed deeply.

We told her goodnight and watched her go.

Jake turned to me. “Contraceptive options? Seriously?”

“What? I want her to be prepared.”

“She’s not having sex with Randy,” he said.

“Andy.”

“Whatever.”

FOURTEEN

“Hey, Daisy,” Officer Ted said to me, smiling. “It’s been awhile.”

The next morning, I was at the Good Egg Bakery on Main, perusing the donuts and rolls and other assorted goodies. I’d decided I was going to work on the play program at home that morning and in order to do so, I was going to need some donut-provided energy and inspiration. Plus, I didn’t want to spend an hour in the kitchen making breakfast and then cleaning it up. I’d settled on a variety of maple donuts for the kids and a cinnamon roll for myself when Officer Ted tapped me on the shoulder.

It had been awhile. I was fairly certain that the last time I’d seen him was when we’d called the Moose River Police Department to let them know we’d found a dead body in our basement. He’d been matter of fact about coming to take the report, as if he saw things like things like that all the time. He was one of the few who hadn’t jumped to conclusions about the body and I’d always appreciated him for that.

“Hi, Ted,” I said. “How are you?”

He took off his uniform cap and nodded. “Good, good. Busy, but good. Things have calmed down at your house?”

I chuckled. “Considerably so, yes.”

“Heard about you and the computers over at the school,” he said, his eyes scanning the sugary confections behind the glass case. “That was pretty good work.”

My face warmed. “More luck than anything. That and being in the right place at the right time. Or wrong place.”

He hitched up his belt, his uniform stretched tight over his large belly. “Well, sure, but good to know it got itself fixed.” His eyes widened. “Raspberry filled. Those are new.”

The girl behind the counter boxed up my donuts and roll and tapped the keys on the register. I pulled cash from my wallet and handed it to her, and she gave me back my change and the box. I thanked her and she nodded without enthusiasm.

“Have you heard anything about Amanda Pendleton?” I asked, turning my attention back to Ted.

His eyes were still riveted on the case of sweets. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about Miss Pendleton.”

“Any idea where she is?”

He shook his head. “Not as of yet. It’s all a little...muddled.”

“Muddled?”

He pointed at the case. “Lemme get two of them raspberry filled, two of the chocolate raised and two of the bear claws. And a big coffee, too.”

“Are you taking those back to the station to share?” I asked. “That’s nice of you.”

His fat cheeks flushed pink. “Oh, I probably should, shouldn’t I?” He motioned at the case with his stubby finger. “Can you just double everything for me, please?”

The girl nodded as she grabbed the wax paper and started pulling them all out.

Officer Ted took a deep breath. “Muddled because, well, she turned eighteen last month and that makes her an adult. And,” he lowered his voice and glanced around, “this all happened once before, too.”

“It did?” I raised my eyebrows. “You mean she disappeared?”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn billfold. “I probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he said, his voice trailing off.

The girl behind the counter set the pink box of donuts on the counter. “She ran away.”

I looked at her. “What?”

“Amanda,” she said. “She ran away.” Her nails tapped on the cash register. “My brother played hockey with her cousin’s ex-boyfriend’s next door neighbor. People talk.”

Apparently so.

Officer Ted handed her a twenty-dollar bill and looked at me. “She did, in fact, have a bit of a skirmish with her parents awhile back. Took off for a weekend. Found her at a family friend’s farm over in Wisconsin. Ended up not being a big deal, but...well, there’s a history, I guess you might say.”

“Is her family worried this time?” I asked.

The girl handed Officer Ted back his change and he dropped it all in the glass tip jar. “Well, sure. They aren’t quite sure what’s going on.” He fitted his cap back on top of his bald pate and nodded at the girl behind the register. “Thanks.”

She sat down on a wooden stool and picked up the paperback book she’d been reading before I got there. “Anytime.”

He pushed the door open for me and I stepped past him into the chilly morning air. The last of the leaves glowed golden in the early morning sun.

He let the door shut behind him before he said anything else. “Sorry. Didn’t want to say too much. She’s right. People talk in Moose River.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” I told him. “It’s not really any of my business anyway. It’s just been something we’ve been around this week because the girls are in the play with her.”

He waved his free hand in the air. “No, no. Wasn’t talking about you, Daisy. I knew why you were asking and that you aren’t one of the town criers. Didn’t mean to act like you were.”

“You didn’t.”

“Shoot, you’re almost an unofficial department employee at this point,” he said, smiling. “You’re solving stuff without us.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, more embarrassed than flattered.

“Anyway,” he said. “Yes, her family is worried.”

“So it’s official then? She’s missing? And I’m only asking because I feel like no one’s been too concerned around the play, almost like it was no big deal.”

He rubbed at his chin, holding the pink box of donuts under his other arm. “Her family filed a report. There is some concern. But since she’s an adult and she’s done it before, I can’t say that it’s at the top of anyone’s list.” He made a face. “I mean, we haven’t seen evidence of anything bad and for all we know, she might be at that farm in Wisconsin right now.”

“So you aren’t looking for her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t wanna say we aren’t looking for her, but we’re a small department, you know? We can only do so much. Looking for someone who might just be tired of her family just doesn’t hit the top of the list, unfortunately.”

I understood that. They were a small department. Manpower was at a premium. But I’d think that if her family was really worried about her, they might be pressuring them to do more.

“I’d be freaking out if it were my daughter,” I admitted.

He chuckled. “I would, too, Daisy. They’re younger and don’t have a history. We’d approach that one a lot different.” He adjusted his cap. “Hopefully, she’ll turn up and we’ll learn it was all a big misunderstanding. That’s the best case scenario.”

“What’s the worst?” I asked.

He rubbed at his chin again and looked me square in the eye. “That she stays gone.”

FIFTEEN

“I have a crisis,” Brenda said.

I switched the phone to my other hand. I’d been home for a couple of hours and I’d made some significant progress on the play program, putting together two different designs Will had helped me with. The girls were both upstairs reading and Will had transitioned to working on a game app that he’d been fixated on for the last couple of weeks. I saw Brenda’s name pop up on my phone screen and was grateful for the temporary diversion.

Until she mentioned the crisis.

“Is this a real crisis or the kind of crisis that only feels like a crisis because you’re ready to tear your hair out?” I asked.

“Real,” she answered. “My house is a giant vomitorium.”

I made a face. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes! Four of five are puking their guts out,” she said. “I’ve got them all on different levels of the house and I’m sprinting up and down the stairs.”

Stomach viruses in large households were like wildfires. They spread quickly and took out everyone in their paths. We’d been there. I lived in fear of them when I heard they were circulating, washing my own hands obsessively and reminding the kids to keep their hands clean.

“And Johnny is at the corn maze all day.”

“What? I thought he hated corn mazes,” I said.

“He does.” She chuckled. “But it’s a work thing. Team-building or something. So who knows when I’ll see him again. If ever.”

A vision of Johnny racing frantically through a maze flashed in my head and I stifled a giggle. “What do you need?” I asked.

“Maddie is at cheer this afternoon,” she said. “Would you possibly be able to grab her and bring her home?”

I contemplated saying no. After all, I could be introducing deadly stomach virus germs into my own household. But my hesitation lasted all of two seconds. It was Brenda, and I couldn’t say no. “Yep, no problem,” I said, wondering if I somehow owned a hazmat suit I’d forgotten about. “What time?”

“She’s done in half an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

Brenda breathed a sigh of relief. “I owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” I said. “But do not come out of your house or touch me when I drop her off.”

SIXTEEN

A woman started eyeing me as soon as I walked in the gym.

I’d closed up the computer after I hung up with Brenda, told the kids where I was headed and got to the gym about five minutes early. It was filled with loud music and shouting and teenage girls doing tumbling runs and sporting gigantic fake smiles while they moved. The smiles withered as soon as they finished whatever movement they were practicing.

I took a seat on one of the lower bleacher benches and immediately noticed a woman looking at me. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, the hair pulled so tight it looked like it hurt. She had on too much makeup, a tight red T-shirt with “FLY OR DIE!” emblazoned across the front and black spandex leggings. A whistle hung around her neck. She had the physique of those workout people you see on TV – all muscles and hard angles that don’t look entirely real.

She stared at me with hard, dark eyes, the whistle perched between her lips. I wasn’t sure whether I had done something wrong or whether I wasn’t supposed to be in the gym, but I’d definitely done something to get her attention. When she turned away from me and toward the girls in the middle of the gym, I could see the name “MATHISEN” emblazoned across the back of her shoulder blades.

She blew hard on the whistle and all of the activity in the gym came to a halt. The girls immediately sprinted to the middle, where she’d stationed herself. Their red, sweaty faces watched her every move. She spoke quietly, her head rotating slowly through the group, looking at each and every girl. When she was done speaking, she held her hand in the air and the girls pushed together, raising their hands up to hers. After a couple more seconds, they all screamed, “ROAR!” and then separated once again, talking and chatting amongst themselves as they picked up their water bottles and warm-ups.

I caught Maddie’s eye and waved at her. Brenda told me that she would text her to tell her I was going to come get her, so she didn’t seem all that surprised to see me. She waved back and signaled that she’d be a minute. I nodded and smiled, hopefully conveying we weren’t in a rush.

“Normally, we don’t allow that type of clothing in this gym,” a voice said to my right.

I looked away from Maddie and was surprised to see the woman with the whistle standing next to the bleachers, her hands on her hips, a frown on her face.

I looked down at my wardrobe. Hooded sweatshirt, yoga pants, running shoes. Then I looked at her. “Excuse me?”

She pointed right at my chest. “That. We don’t like to see that in here.”

I looked down again. My red hooded sweatshirt had “MOOSE RIVER DAYS” written across the front of it. I’d gotten it maybe three years earlier, during the annual Moose River street fair.

“But you look like you might not be a regular so I’m willing to let it go,” she said. “For today.”

A regular? Wouldn’t she know most of the parents of her cheer team? “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I told her. “I’m just picking up my friend’s daughter.”

She nodded, like she’d expected that. “Like I said. Not a regular, so you aren’t familiar with the rules. Given that Moose River is our rival, I don’t like to see anything with their name on it.”

“Aren’t we in Moose River?” I asked. It was a rhetorical question – I knew without a doubt that the gym in the industrial buildings south of downtown was well within the city limits.

“Of course,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. They have Moose River in their name. We don’t. So anything with Moose River on it gets me agitated. That’s why most of our girls are from the surrounding cities.”

“Um, okay.”

She jutted her hand out. “Greta Mathisen. Head coach of the Cheerlicious Cheetahs.”

“Daisy Savage,” I said, shaking her hand. Her fingers were surprisingly cold. “I’m picking up Maddie Witt.”

She pumped my hand up and down a couple times before she finally let go. “Ah, okay. Well, we’ll definitely let it go today, then. Maddie is one of our best athletes.”

“That’s...good to hear.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you’ll probably have a lot of sad friends there in Moose River in a couple days.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Coach Mathisen made a sound that sounded a little like a cackle. “Because they’re going to lose. Big time.”

I saw Maddie pulling on her sweats on the other side of the gym and chatting with another girl. I thought about her siblings, stationed at toilets throughout the house. She didn’t look sick at all.

I glanced back at the coach. “Who’s going to lose what?”

She frowned at me like she couldn’t believe I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Are you serious?”

“Not always, but in this case, yes. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The frown stayed on her face. “The Northern Suburbs Cheer-Off?”

I stared blankly at her.

Her eyes rolled. “It’s only the biggest annual cheer competition in the northern Twin Cities suburbs. It’s the big regional tournament.”

“Oh.”

“I take it you don’t have any kids.”

“I have four.” She stared at me incredulously and I added, “But none of them do cheer.”

She shook her head and the look on her face was so sad, I felt a momentary twinge that my kids might actually be missing out on something because they’d never gotten involved in cheer. But then I came back to my senses. We were talking about cheerleading, not the Peace Corps.

“I see,” she said. “A shame. Well, anyway. Your Moose River friends will probably be crying in their oatmeal after we trounce the pants off of them.”

I didn’t think we knew anyone who was part of the Moose River Fusion cheer team, but I wasn’t sure that would matter to her. She was acting like everyone should have been familiar with all of the cheer competitions in the area because they were the most important things on the planet. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t really see the point of cheerleading, and that I’d encouraged my girls to participate in sports and activities rather than stand on the sidelines and cheer for others.

“Well, that sounds great for you,” I said, trying to fake a little sincerity.

“Yeah, yeah, it will be,” she said. “Moose River Fusion has dominated the NSCO for years. But we’ve got their number this year.” Her mouth flared into a wide grin. “And they’re experiencing a little bit of trouble this year.”

I thought back to my dinner conversation with Brenda. “You mean their missing captain?”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you are familiar with all of this?” She glanced at my purse. “I hope you aren’t here to spy.”

What did she think I had hidden in there? A microphone? A video recorder? A bomb to decimate her gym?

“I told you,” I said. “I’m here to pick up my friend’s daughter. But I’m aware that Amanda Pendleton’s missing. She’s in a play with my daughters and I heard she was also involved in cheerleading.”

Her face soured and she looked like she wanted to spit. “Amanda Pendleton isn’t just involved in cheerleading, alright? She’s probably one of the best cheerleaders in the state of Minnesota. Powerful. Fast. Can tumble like nobody’s business.” She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. “And she got her start with me.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, you better believe it is,” she answered, mistaking my question for some sort of challenge. “Before she trained with me, she didn’t know a cartwheel from a cart of apples. But I got her straightened out. I got her on the right track. I turned her into a cheerleader.” She paused. “She owes me a lot.”

Maddie was finally walking across the gym toward us and I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief.  “I’m sure she’s grateful.”

Coach Mathisen snorted again. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But, no. She showed her gratitude by jumping ship. This is karma.” She leaned in closer to me. “Karma, I tell you. They stole her from me, she fell for it, and now they’re all dealing with karma. And we’re gonna kick their butts.”

I stood up. “I’m not sure a missing girl is karma. I think there are plenty of people worried about her.”

She cleared her throat. “Oh, right. Right. I’m sure they are. I mean, yes. I hope they find her. I don’t mean that I don’t want them to find her. I just mean...I just mean we are going to kick their tail feathers, and this is what they get for stealing Amanda from me.”

I didn’t really understand what she was getting it and I was really put off by her entire attitude. Being competitive was one thing, but reveling in someone else’s misfortune was something else entirely and I thought it was kind of gross. Her glee over Amanda’s disappearance was pretty apparent because she thought it gave her team a distinct advantage. I hoped she was wrong.

“Well, I hope she’s found soon,” I said smiling at her. “I think it would be terrific if she was back before your competition.”

Her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was about to let me know exactly how she felt about that. But then something flashed through her eyes and it was gone.

“Sure,” she said flatly. “That would be terrific. But I doubt it’ll happen.”

I looked at her. “You don’t think she’ll be found?”

Her face flushed pink. “No. No. I just meant that...I don’t think she’ll be back before the competition. And even if she is, she might not be up to competing.” She looked hurriedly at her watch. “I need to go. Nice meeting you, Moose River.”

She jogged off across the gym floor before I could respond.