03 Murder by Mishap (22 page)

“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,” Edna said. “Didn’t you tell me that Stephen hired
Goran
for you?” At Peg’s nod, she asked. “How exactly did that come about?”

“It was after I’d found the box of old photographs. I was showing them to Virginia one afternoon. We had them spread out on the dining room table when Stephen came home from work. I said I thought it would be nice to have some of the old gardens back. The yard looked so plain and Mother’s gardens were so pretty, even in the black and white photos. Next thing I knew, probably a week later,
Goran
knocked on the door and said my husband had sent him.”

“How did Stephen find him? Did he advertise?”

Peg shrugged. “I have no idea. Stephen never said and I haven’t thought to ask
Goran
.”

“Speaking of Stephen,” Edna began and purposely stopped for Peg to pick up the conversation.

Peg lowered her head and fell silent for a long moment. When Edna noticed tears wetting Peg’s cheeks, she pushed herself off the bed and knelt beside the chair, looking up into Peg’s face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Peg tried to smile. Reaching into a pocket, she sputtered, “Darn. I need a tissue.” She rose abruptly and headed for the bathroom, returning almost immediately with the entire box. Without preamble, she said, “I’ve asked Stephen to leave.”

Edna’s first reaction was relief, followed immediately by guilt, then sadness for her friend’s obvious misery. She got up off her knees and sat back down on the bed as Peg returned to the chair. “Why? Is this sudden?”

Peg shook her head. “It’s been building up, but seems to have gotten worse in the last few months. He’s always at work and, when he’s not, he’s become controlling and dictatorial.” She blew her nose as unhappiness turned to anger. “He’s not the man I married, the man who wined and dined me and took me on long walks and talked for hours about a book we’d both read. I know I vowed ‘for better or for worse’ but lately there is no ‘better’.”

“Are you absolutely certain your marriage is over?”

“No, I’m not, but I want him to realize I’m serious. I will not live under his absolute rule and will no longer put up with his moods.”

The two women stared at each other for another minute, as if they might conjure up answers in the air between them. Finally, Peg shook herself, breaking the spell. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight.” She seemed to make an effort to appear more cheerful. “Are you dog tired? Would you like me to leave so you can go to bed?”

Edna gave a wry smile. “I’ll probably crash in another hour or two after all the adrenalin that’s been pumping through my body, but at the moment, I’m still a little on edge.” Jokingly, she said, “Shall we jog around the block?”

Peg chuckled. “I have a better idea for physical exercise. I’ve organized things in Virginia’s rooms so her sister only has to go through and let me know what she wants to keep. I’ve left out boxes and newspapers, so it won’t take long to crate the rest. What she doesn’t want, we can cart off to the local women’s shelter and Goodwill. The only big thing left to do is to go through the attic to see if Virginia stored anything up there.”

Inwardly, Edna groaned, thinking of the jumble of discards and dust in her own attic when they’d moved out of their old house a year ago. She kept her expression neutral, though, and pushed herself off the bed. “Let’s go look.”

The top floor was accessed through a door in Peg’s office, across the hall from the guest bedroom. As they entered the room, Peg stopped to rummage in a desk drawer. Pulling out a large flashlight, she said, “We’ll need this. There are a couple of ceiling lights up there, but they aren’t very bright.” She preceded Edna up narrow steps into the gloom.

When Peg flicked a wall switch, light from a hanging bulb cast a dim glow that didn’t quite reach into the attic’s corners. Two large brick structures rose from the floor and extended through the roof, sectioning the room into three parts. Edna estimated the chimneys and each end of the attic lay above the respective bedrooms on the second floor. The area between the chimney pieces would be over the foyer and staircase. A soft radiance along the slanted roofline indicated two more low-wattage bulbs hanging from the ceiling in each section. 

Peg had moved to a floor lamp standing out from the wall halfway between the stairwell and a window at the end of the room. She turned it on, casting a more effective brilliance on the boxes and shelves in that part of the attic.

Edna stared around her in amazement. “I have never seen such a
well organized
storage space in my life.”

Peg grinned with pleasure. “Well, perhaps ‘cluttered but clean’ would be the best description. Mother’s training. She insisted that nothing be put up here that wasn’t carefully labeled. She also insisted we arrange things in logical groups. I’m afraid I haven’t kept up with her plan religiously, but there’s still some method to the madness. Mostly, you’ll find old furniture and boxes from my parents’ day back there at the opposite end. Geoff’s childhood toys and books are all in the middle, along with his father’s belongings. I haven’t thrown a lot of things away, hoping Geoff will sort through them eventually.”

Edna said, “It’s not as dusty as I expected, but like all old attics, it’s stuffy. Can we open a window?”

“Good idea. I’ll get the one at this end. You take the flashlight. Start at the far end and work your way back to me. I don’t think Virginia would have stored anything except in this area but let’s make sure. She came up here periodically, mostly to clean, but she may have rearranged some things. I’ll look through the boxes and shelves here.”

Obligingly, Edna set off with renewed energy after seeing how orderly and relatively dust-free the attic was. As Peg predicted, the rear space contained assorted pieces of furniture--chairs with broken legs or ripped upholstery, tables with a cracked leaf or deep scratch, lamps with torn shades or frayed cords. She moved quickly, seeing nothing marked with Virginia’s name and assuming the furniture had belonged to Peg’s family and not the housekeeper.

In the center section, she smiled at some of the discarded toys and sports equipment from Geoff’s youth. A boy’s tricycle with one back wheel missing leaned against the outer wall. A baseball bat lay across two boxes.
The glove must be around somewhere
, she thought, remembering the Little League games she and Peg had sat through with their sons. She smiled, happy with the thought that the two boys, men now, had remained best friends. On a whim, she lifted the bat and looked into one of the boxes beneath. Sure enough, an old, scarred baseball glove rested on top of a stack of games and books. She pulled it out and reclosed the lid.

Her younger son Grant was bringing his family from Colorado to visit in another couple of months. Remembering how much fun her nine-year-old granddaughter Jillian had teaching her how to throw a Frisbee, Edna thought the child might enjoy learning some basics about baseball. She’d ask Peg to borrow the bat and glove, but she’d buy a new ball.

With her mind on Grant’s visit, Edna started around the chimney to join Peg at the top of the steps in the most cluttered section of the attic. She was about to call out, “Look what I found,” when she heard a deep voice from the stairs.

“
Whaa’re
you
doin
’ up here?”

Following an instinct, Edna moved quietly back into the shadows.

Stephen’s head, then his shoulders, rose slowly and unsteadily out of the stairwell until he was standing in the room. Edna had never seen him look so disheveled. The left sleeve of his white dress shirt was turned back at the cuff while the right sleeve was rolled all the way to his elbow. His shirt tail was pulling loose from his black suit pants, and his hair was mussed on one side, as if he’d raked it with his fingers. Leaning slightly forward and squinting at his wife, he repeated in a slightly slurred, but demanding voice, “
Whaa’re
you
doin
’?”

“You’re drunk, Stephen.” Peg sounded annoyed and not at all sympathetic. “Go to bed. I came up here to see if there’s anything belonging to Virginia.”

He twisted from the waist, leaving his feet planted and reaching out to steady himself on the top of a stack of boxes. As he looked erratically around the room, Edna stood perfectly still. Holding her breath, she hoped, between the shadows in the attic and the amount he’d had to drink, that he wouldn’t spot her. His behavior was making her feel uneasy, and she wished she’d stuck her cell phone in her pocket before coming upstairs.

Eventually, his gaze fixed on Peg, and he frowned as if trying to remember why they were both standing in the attic.

“Stephen!” Peg’s voice was harsh as she stepped closer to him and grabbed his arm. “Please go down stairs before you fall and hurt yourself.”

He swung his arms up and away in a swimmer’s breast-stroke motion, breaking her hold on his bicep. As his arms circled back around, his palms were facing outward in front of his chest. He pushed out, fiercely striking her shoulders. “Don’t touch me,” he growled. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Peg had stumbled backward at his attack, but caught herself before she fell. “What is the matter with you,” she said, a note of fear starting to creep into her voice.

Stephen descended on her and struck her again with his palms to her shoulders. As she staggered another few steps backwards, he shouted, “You have no idea how hard it is to run a bank, the problems I have to deal with.
You and your high-and-mighty friends, sitting around with your tea and your gossip while I have to deal with the
real
world.
And now you want me to leave. I’m not good enough for you, is that it?”

Peg sounded stern when she said, “You don’t know what you’re saying. We’ll discuss this when you’ve sobered up.”

Her words seemed to fuel his anger. “I know exactly what I’m saying,” he snarled as he lurched toward her. “I won’t let you destroy my bank.” Again he struck, forcing her back with each slap to her shoulders.

“Stop it, Stephen. You’re hurting me.” Peg’s voice was now filled with both confusion and fear.

“I won’t go away quietly and lose everything I’ve worked for.” His anger was building. “You have no idea of the pressure I’m under.”

“I might if you’d talk to me, but I won’t listen when you’re this drunk.” Peg stepped back another foot as Stephen advanced on her.

Unlike her friend whose mind was distracted by the husband’s onslaught, Edna saw what was happening. Close to panic, she yelled, “Look out, Peg.
Behind you.”

Peg half turned to see she was only about two feet from the window. The lower half, reaching from mid-calf to hip, was open to the night. The frame looked old and brittle. She spun back, wild-eyed, as Stephen pushed her again. As she fell backwards and her shoulder slammed into the panes of the upper half, a resounding crack of wood and glass echoed in the room.

Stephen hadn’t turned when Edna called out. The thought flicked through her mind that he was so enraged at Peg, he didn’t register another presence. More concerned with her friend, she wondered with growing horror how long the structure would hold up if he kept knocking Peg against it.

Seconds earlier, when Stephen began to shout at Peg, Edna had dropped the baseball glove, but had hung onto the bat. Now, leaving the shadow of the chimney, she moved quickly up behind him, raising the bat to her shoulder. When she was almost upon him, with one fluid motion, she pivoted and swung as if going for a ground ball. It was at least a two-base hit as she connected with the side of his knee.

The crack of wood hitting bone was followed by a high-pitched scream as he fell sideways into a pile of boxes. Cartons flew in all directions under his weight. He lay on his back, clutching his leg and howling. Confusion turned to surprise when he finally seemed aware of Edna. He gaped up at her a second before his face contorted in agony.

Even though he was yelling loud enough to shake the rafters, she was disappointed by the realization that the alcohol he’d consumed must be dulling some of the pain.
He deserves to feel every stab and twitch after what he’d nearly done to Peg
, she thought.

Trying to catch her breath and with one hand against the wall for support, Peg stared from her husband to her friend and back again. Her face pinched in disbelief. “He almost pushed me out the window.” She began to tremble. “He might have killed me.”

Not wanting to lose her to shock, Edna said sternly, “Go downstairs and call for an ambulance.”

Peg stared blankly as if not understanding the words.

Edna knew she had to keep her friend from falling apart, if only for a little while. “Listen to me, Peg. You must go dial nine-one-one. Stephen needs a doctor, and he
’ll need
help getting down the stairs. Neither of us is going to get close to him. Do you understand?”

Peg blinked stupidly for another few seconds before nodding slowly. “Yes.
Alright.”
She eyed her husband carefully as she pushed herself erect and sidled past him. Only when she was well out of his reach did she turn and hurry down to the office. Edna was left to guard Stephen as he rocked back and forth, groaning and holding his leg just above the damaged knee. He scowled warily at the bat in her hand and didn’t attempt to get up. If he wondered how Edna had come to be in the attic, he didn’t ask.