Authors: Jenn McKinlay
“We’re headed back out,” one of them said. “We’re trying
to dig out some of the harder-hit areas before the storm worsens.” He downed the remainder of his coffee and started to pull his heavy coveralls back on.
He gave Mary a smacking kiss on the cheek and yelled at Ian, “You married above yourself, Ian Murphy!”
“Don’t I know it,” Ian called back. “She reminds me every day.”
“I do,” Mary said to Lindsey and Beth. “That’s the first thing I say to him every morning. You traded up when you married me. Don’t forget it.”
Lindsey grinned. Mary and Ian were her favorite couple ever. Ian was short and bald and wore glasses, but he was so charming that within five minutes of meeting him you forgot he wasn’t much to look at. And Mary, well, she looked like her older brother, Sully. With mahogany curls that reached past her shoulders and bright blue eyes, she was a beauty, but she was also smart and funny. They simply adored one another and it made them delightful to be around.
“So, what are you two doing out in this?” Mary asked.
“Digging out the library,” Beth said. “We only got the front done.”
“Good thing,” Mary said. “Sully just called in and he thinks the storm is going to take a turn for the worse within the hour.”
Mary put a chunk of soda bread and heaping ladle full of ham and potatoes on each of their plates. She then came back with two steaming cups of coffee supercharged with brandy.
“We’re trying to keep the food going for the road crews,” Mary
said. “Sully and Ian were out with them last night, but I forbid Ian to go back out until he slept a bit. He just woke up so I expect he’ll be leaving me shortly.”
Lindsey could hear the worry in her voice and she nodded. She didn’t much like the idea of Sully being out there all night either, not that it was any of her business.
“Has Sully gotten any rest?” she asked, trying to sound casually inquiring and failing miserably.
Mary gave her a knowing smile. “He came in for coffee and I hid his keys this morning. He got about two hours of sleep. Don’t worry. His naval training has put him in better shape than most for this sort of thing.”
“Is it just me or is this the best food you’ve ever eaten?” Beth asked through a mouthful.
Obviously, shoveling snow had given the woman an appetite; her plate was almost clean. Then Lindsey glanced down at her own plate. Where had all the food gone?
Mary laughed at both of them and dished up some more of the ham and potatoes and bread. They ate hurriedly, and when her belly was full, Lindsey was sure that if she lay down on the table she’d sleep for a week.
“I don’t want to chase off the only pretty customers we’ve had,” Ian said as he approached the table, “but the wind is picking up and the snow is falling harder. You’d better get while the getting is good.”
“Be careful,” Mary said as she hugged them both.
Beth and Lindsey bundled back up. Stepping out into the biting wind and thick snow was almost more than Lindsey could stand. She grabbed the shovels and held on to Beth as they zipped back to Nancy’s house.
The porch and path to the front door had been cleared, but the snow was beginning to pile up again.
“Why don’t you stay here?” she asked Beth. “It might be safer if the storm gets really nasty.”
“I can’t leave Slinky and Skippy John,” Beth said.
Lindsey wanted to argue, but she knew how much Beth loved her two kitties.
“Besides, I have to get this snowmobile back to Mr. Chester so he doesn’t worry.”
“Be safe,” Lindsey said.
“I will,” Beth promised. “Mr. Chester has a cell phone. I’ll call and let you know I made it.”
“All right,” Lindsey said. “Don’t forget.”
Beth nodded and revved the engine. Lindsey watched her hop over the drifts with a nervous flutter in her chest. She glanced up at the sky. The snow pelted down onto her goggles, melting against the flesh-warmed plastic until all she could see was spots.
H
eathcliff danced a doggy dance of delight when Lindsey stepped through the door. She smiled, almost tempted to match his happy dance. There was something about coming home to a being that had no compunction about showing how much he had missed her that made Lindsey’s mood lighten even as the storm beat down on the eaves with a hammering that was relentless.
Although they had not discussed it, they all gathered in Nancy’s living room to while away the rest of the afternoon and evening. They cooked spaghetti on Charlie’s stove while Nancy whipped up a salad and Lindsey ran up to her apartment to bring down a fresh loaf of olive bread.
They ate in candlelight, and conversation moved from Charlie’s tour and the uncertain future of the band to what Lindsey had seen while she was digging out the library.
Carrie offered to help Lindsey with the dishes. Since she was bone weary from shoveling the snow, Lindsey was grateful for the assist.
The window over the kitchen sink looked out over the side yard, and Lindsey noticed that Carrie scanned the yard every time her gaze strayed to the window.
“Are you looking for your kids?” she asked. “Are they on their way?”
“No.” Carrie shook her head. “I told them to wait until the roads were passable. Our family has suffered enough tragedy for the time being.”
Lindsey was silent for a moment, not sure if she should say more, but she wanted Carrie to know that she could talk to her.
“What is it, then?” she asked. She figured it was better to offer Carrie the opportunity to talk even if Carrie gave her the brush-off. “It’s obvious something is on your mind.”
“I just”—Carrie hesitated—“I just can’t help wondering if Markus was the intended target of the shooter.”
“What do you mean?” Lindsey handed her the last of the dripping plates.
“I mean, and I know this sounds nuts, but what if the killer was looking for me?”
“Is there a reason you think this?”
“Well, I know Markus wasn’t very well liked,” Carrie said. “But I don’t think anyone hated him enough to shoot him. He rarely left the house. He never left his zip code. Who could have wanted him dead?”
“The police don’t think it was an accident, do they?”
“They haven’t said for sure.”
“But?”
“But I don’t
see how they could,” Carrie said. “Both of my neighbors have called me to see how I’m doing, and when we talked about what happened, neither of them could remember hearing anything like a shot being fired in the evening. No matter what the medical examiner says, I know he was shot after seven o’clock, because when I left the house, he was fine.”
“It’s nice of your neighbors to check on you,” Lindsey said.
“Well, we’ve all lived there for twenty-five years. Marcia lives on one side and Cindy on the other,” Carrie said. “Our kids ran in and out of each other’s houses for years. I know them almost as well as I know myself.”
She stacked the dried plate on top of the pile, and Lindsey put the stack up in the cupboard.
“But if what you say is true, then you’re saying someone would want to shoot you. You’re very well liked in the community,” Lindsey said. “I can’t imagine that anyone would want to harm you.”
Carrie carefully folded her dish towel and placed it on the counter. When she looked up again, her brown eyes were troubled.
“There’s one person,” she said. “But I hate to name names. I mean, what if I’m wrong? That would be slander.”
Lindsey studied her. She thought about who in town might have a grudge against Carrie. One name leapt forward and she said, “How about if I guess?”
Carrie raised her brows and nodded.
“Marjorie Bilson, aka Batty Bilson, who apparently has a passion for Bill Sint?” Lindsey asked and Carrie gasped.
“How
did you know that was who I was thinking?”
“Because she’s off her rocker,” Lindsey said. “She came after me when you took over Bill’s role as president of the Friends.”
“Really?”
Lindsey nodded. A draft of cold air circled around her and she shivered. “Come on, let’s talk by the fire.”
They rejoined Charlie and Nancy in the living room. The two of them were engrossed in a game of chess. Judging by the accumulated pieces by each of them, Charlie was winning.
Lindsey and Carrie sat down on the hearth and let the fire’s heat wash over their backs. Soon it would be too hot to sit this close, but for the moment it felt good. Heathcliff lay down beside Lindsey and rested his chin on her feet. She reached down and gently rubbed his ears.
“The day after Markus was shot, I got a weird and very creepy phone call from Marjorie Bilson,” Lindsey said. “I didn’t mention it to you because I felt you had enough going on, but I did play it for Officer Plewicki and she recorded it.”
“What did it say?” Carrie asked.
“Basically, that now that you were going to jail for murdering your husband, she wanted to know when Bill would be reinstated as the president of the Friends.”
Both Charlie and Nancy turned their attention from the game to listen.
“Is that the message you played for Emma at the police station?” Nancy asked. “I heard her tell the chief about it. I got the feeling she was going to bring Marjorie in, but I wonder if the storm has shifted their priorities.”
“It would have to,” Charlie said. “They can’t chase
down a murderer when half the town is out of power and buried under snow.”
They were all silent for a moment or two. The house, still without power, creaked and groaned under the onslaught of wind and ice. Even huddled together in the cozy living room, it was impossible not to feel vulnerable.
Heathcliff rose to his feet and did a quick survey of the doors and windows. To Lindsey, it looked as if he were checking the perimeter. He was just a puppy, but she found it incredibly comforting to have him finish his circuit and sit back down at her feet as if assured that all was well.
“If your neighbors didn’t hear a shot, and assuming it wasn’t an accident, then that means it was someone who knows how to use a gun,” Lindsey said. “Does Marjorie have a history with firearms?”
Carrie, Nancy and Charlie all looked at one another. Charlie was the first to raise his hands in defeat.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean everyone knows her elevator doesn’t reach the top floor, but it’s not like she’s Dale Wilcox.”
“True,” Nancy said. “Now there’s one you don’t turn your back on.”
“Who’s Dale Wilcox?” Lindsey asked.
“He’s a local fisherman,” Charlie said. “You see him down at the pier a lot. He runs a charter operation, but he’s as mean as a hornet, and when he’s drunk, he’s mean and crazy. He did time for assault and battery a few years back, and if I remember right, he had a weapon on him at the time of his arrest.”
Carrie fretted her lip. “It wasn’t Dale. I know he has a
bad reputation, but he wasn’t always like that. I don’t believe he’d harm anyone.”
“He went to jail for assault!” Charlie argued. “Rumor has it he was going to shoot that guy.”
“As you say, rumors not facts,” Carrie said.
“Wait a minute,” Nancy said. “I just remembered! I was at the grocery store, and I saw Dale and Markus get into a road-rage incident a few weeks ago. Dale thought Markus had cut him off to steal his parking spot, and when he yelled at Markus about it, Markus threatened to call the police. Dale got so mad at that he threatened to back over him.”
“Did Markus call the police?” Lindsey asked. This would be excellent, as it would give the police yet another lead.
“No, Milton Duffy happened by and tried to talk them both into doing some sort of yoga thing together,” Nancy said. “Markus refused because of his back, and Dale just stalked off toward the package store.”
“I never heard about this,” Carrie said, and she began to fret her lower lip with her teeth. “I wonder why no one told me.”
“Probably, so you wouldn’t worry,” Charlie said. “Dale drunk is flat-out scary. Sully won’t even let him on the pier if he smells booze on him.”
An icicle snapped off the side of the house and fell with a thump. They all jumped. Lindsey’s back was hot now, so she scooted off the hearth and sat on the floor beside Heathcliff, who obligingly rolled onto his back to have his belly rubbed.
“Well, this does give us a new direction to look in,” Lindsey
said. “Was there anyone else Markus had an altercation with recently?”
“Define altercation,” Carrie said. “He had a row with our handyman, Clyde Perkins, over the tile we hired him to put in our bathroom. Markus refused to pay him when he was done because he said he didn’t like the way the tiles felt under his feet. He thought they were too spongy.”
Nancy shook her head and Charlie blew a breath out between his lips.
“What happened?” Lindsey asked.
“I had to pay Clyde on the sly,” Carrie said. “But, oh, he was so mad at Markus. Apparently, Markus said he did shoddy work and he was going to report him to the Better Business Bureau.”
“Then what happened?”
“I believe Clyde threatened to use his tile cutter on him.”
Nancy clucked. “Clyde is one of the best handymen in town.”
“I know,” Carrie said. “Markus also got into a tiff with Della Navarro, his physical therapist. He said she was nothing more than a gym teacher and should have her therapist license revoked. He was going to file a complaint against her.”
“Della is a big girl,” Charlie said. “I don’t think I’d sass her.”
“Didn’t she rehab Cooper Highsmith after his car accident?” Nancy asked.
“Yes,” Carrie said. “She got him walking again when they said he never would.”
“Wow, I’m surprised she didn’t snap your husband like a twig,” Charlie said.
Carrie sighed. “My
husband was not an easy person.”
Nancy and Lindsey glanced swiftly at one another and then away. Not fast enough, however.
“What was that look for?” Carrie asked.
“What look?” Nancy asked.
Lindsey gave her props for sounding so innocent, but she knew they were busted.
“That look that says you think I’m mental,” Carrie said.
“No, that’s not it,” Charlie said. He moved his leg right before the toe of Nancy’s sneaker would have connected with his shin in an attempt to shut him up.