From Newsprint to Footprints: A River's Edge Cozy Mystery (River's Edge Cozy Mysteries Book 1) (20 page)

My heart was beating fast, and it made my temples pulse, probably because of the almost-gone bump on my head. I fought against screaming at Fred. I stood and walked toward the door and back again. Fred still wasn't looking at me, so I stood next to him.

"You want me to tell, right?" he asked.

"You're damn right I do."

He looked up, eyes pleading. "I'll never get work again. And what would it tell the sheriff?"

"Gee, maybe that I didn't do it?"

He sagged into his chair, tilted his head back, and stared at the ceiling. His eyes looked vacant.

I was angrier than I'd ever been, even angrier than when Peter Frost filed the lawsuit against Ambrose and me. If I said everything I thought about him, Fred might not tell the sheriff. If he didn't admit it and I repeated what he said, he could deny it. My story would sound like fiction.

Finally he looked at me. "Is tomorrow okay?"

"And what in the hell is wrong with right this very minute?"

"I'd like to write resignation letters. And my cat, you know? I need to find somebody. And I'd like to tell my parents myself. They're in Florida now. I mean, I can't go there, but it won't be an easy phone call."

I didn't care about his letters or cat, but the bit about his parents got to me. I didn't know them well. The longest time I'd spent in the same room with them was at the town dinner after Ambrose, Sharon's, and Fred's high school graduation. Fred's parents were a lot older than mine. Probably close to seventy-five now.

I sighed. "First thing tomorrow. If you don't do it, I will. You don't want to be some sort of fugitive."

"Thank you, Mel. I'm…."

I walked out. It made no difference how sorry he was. Fred had put me through hell.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

SANDI WAS COMING toward me as I got to the sidewalk. She turned without saying anything, and we walked toward the paper's small parking lot. After a few steps, I said, "It was him."

"He killed Hal? Oh, my God!"

"Hush. He says no, just that he followed him."

"I can't believe he didn't tell me! Did he see anything?"

Given that Fred was keeping her mostly in the dark, I didn't know why she'd expect him to tell her anything. We had gotten to our vehicles. I'd promised Fred to wait until tomorrow to go to the sheriff. Could Sandi keep a secret that long? No.

"He saw Hal turn into the driveway at Syl's place."

"My God. Hal was killed there." She stared at me. "Does he know who killed him? Did Fred see anyone else there? Was Syl outside?"

My mind raced. Technically, the answer to each of her questions was no. "He has no clue about any of that. And…"

A car horn honked as Ryan pulled into the lot.

I faced Sandi. "If we stand here kibitzing, it'll look odd if Fred comes out. Come on to the diner."

"Are you kidding? Why aren't we going to Sheriff Gallagher? Is Fred already there?"

I looked at Ryan and pointed down the street. He rolled down his window.

"Meet us at the diner."

He nodded and put his window back up.

I looked at Sandi. "When we get to the diner, I'll tell you what we talked about. Just don't screech when I do."

She almost stomped to her car, ponytail swinging, and flung open the door. I let her back out and, driving more slowly, followed her to the diner.

My mind was jumbled with fury at Fred for letting me look like a possible killer and pity for what was about to happen to his life, because he had chosen not to call the sheriff the night Hal was killed. Would I have called? Absolutely. And not just because I'd have been terrified. It was the right thing to do and crazy not to do it.

Fred had been high school class president, and everyone in town seemed to like him. Respect him, too. Recent experience had taught me what it was like to be considered a good person, however that's defined, and that it's hard to be thought of negatively.

But, hell, if Fred said what happened and people thought he was a weasel for not speaking up sooner, so what? Hard feelings would be over in a day or so. Maybe not mine right away, but everybody else's.

Fred must have had another reason for staying quiet. But what? How could I fudge with Sandi and Ryan so they'd wait a day to learn more? And why was I willing to do that?

My mind went over a bunch of things super fast. My first week at the paper, Fred introducing me to the two county supervisors who had come on board when I was in college. Fred standing up to Hal for me, until I learned how to do it myself by the third week on the job. Fred at the funeral home, holding me while I cried because Ambrose had his hands full with my father's two sisters who were also bawling.

"Nuts." I pulled to the curb and called Fred's mobile.

"Melanie?"

"Yeah. Ryan found the cameras that had the pictures. You should probably make yourself scarce unless you want him to hunt you down tonight." I hung up without saying goodbye.

Sandi and Ryan had parked and were standing by the entry to the diner. I parked and Ryan rolled his index finger, indicating I should hurry.

"Okay, okay." As I got closer I said, "There's not much you can do until tomorrow."

Sandi was white-faced. "You don't know that." She led the way into the diner, and we walked toward a booth.

Shirley was behind the counter. "You guys need menus?"

I didn't want her to linger talking to us. "How about a round of iced tea?"

Sandi and Ryan nodded. They slid into one side of a booth, and I faced them. "Good job with the photos, Ryan."

He leaned across the table. "What did he say?"

I told them Fred had gone to have it out with Hal and followed the taillights. Without saying so, I let them think he had not followed Hal into the driveway."

"What the hell was Hal doing out there?" Sandi asked.

"From the sound of things he was drunk. I guess Fred thought so to." I shrugged. "My guess would be Hal went to scream at Syl for pulling the ad. For pulling a thirty-five dollar ad."

Sandi almost whispered. "You think Syl killed Hal?"

"It seems almost impossible to me, but that's not for us to find out."

"Gee," Ryan's sarcasm was clear. "How many folks would have been in that driveway in the dead of night?"

I kept my tone even and voice low. "Again, I have no idea, and this time I'm leaving it all to the sheriff."

"So what's Fred waiting for? He should call the Sheriff ASAP." Ryan sat up straighter. "Maybe I could go with him to talk to Gallagher."

Sandi lifted her eyes from where she'd been staring at the table for a few moments. "I can't believe he didn't say anything, Mel. If Hal drove himself out there and you weren't with him, it really lets you off the hook."

I nodded. "Fred feels bad. I guess he thought he'd look guilty, and he was afraid of losing his job or something." Sandi started to interrupt, and I continued. "I told him I'd give him time to call his parents and write resignation letters."

They both sat back. "Resign?" Ryan whispered.

"He should have told, but…" Sandi stopped, and her freckles stood out even more on her pale face.

I met her gaze. "Are you going to throw up or something?"

She shook her head as Ryan moved a few inches away from her.

Ice sloshing in glasses meant Shirley was approaching. "Hey, kids. You three look like you got expelled."

I turned my head to look up at her as she placed the three iced teas on the table without spilling a drop. She tossed a sugar packet at me.

"Just a really long day."

Shirley stared at me. "You have dirt on your nose, sugar."

Sandi handed me a napkin. "Can't take her anywhere."

Shirley cracked her gum and studied us. "Okay, I'll let you talk." The swish of her back end as she turned to walk to the counter said she was annoyed at us.

I added sugar, and we sipped our tea for almost thirty seconds before we spoke. When Shirley was safely behind the counter, I said, "He's upset."

"And you aren't?" Sandi hissed.

"You sound like a goose," Ryan said.

"I'm upset, I'm angry, I'm hurt."

Their expressions changed from irritation to something more neutral, and Sandi got some color back in her face.

"I know," Sandi said, "I don't get why you aren't hauling his butt to Gallagher yourself."

"If you'd seen him, you'd get it. I told him he'd have tonight to talk to his folks, and if he didn't get to Gallagher in the morning, I would."

"Sheriff'll be mad at you for waiting," Ryan said.

"I don't plan on mentioning the delay."

Sandi looked at her watch and then Ryan. "I need to find Fred."

"You mean
we
," Ryan said.

They both looked at me, and I shook my head. "Not me. I can't tell you what to do, but I'd lay off him for a few hours. I'm going to buy a six-pack and enjoy an evening watching TV, thinking that no one will try to arrest me tomorrow."

 

MY PHONE RANG AT six-forty-five Thursday morning. I knocked over my alarm clock reaching for it. "Who?"

"Melanie?"

Sheriff Gallagher's voice got me to sit up. "Yes. What's going on?" I asked this in reporter mode, before I remembered I was a gardener.

"Fred with you?"

"Huh?" I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. "Haven't seen him since yesterday, early evening. What's up?"

"Found his car near the river a few minutes ago. Stay where you are." Gallagher hung up.

I was immediately so cold my teeth chattered. I stood and pulled the quilt around me, which made me stumble as I walked into the kitchen. The two beers I'd had the night before roiled in my stomach. I wanted a Tums and some hot tea.

Fred. What have you done?
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Fred left his lights on, and it called attention to the car. Maybe he was fishing further down the river.
You idiot. Fred doesn't fish. Maybe he does. Please, let Fred be fishing
.

I turned the gas on under the tea kettle, remembering to shake it to be sure it held water before I went to the bathroom. By the time I finished brushing my teeth, the kettle was boiling. I took a teabag from the cupboard above the sink, but before it landed in my mug, heavy footsteps on the stairs announced someone.

The steps were too rapid for Gallagher. I peered from behind the curtain on the glass part of my outside door and looked straight into Aaron Granger's eyes. "Give me two seconds to put on a bathrobe."

I ran to my bedroom, took a robe from the foot of my bed, and was at the door again in less than a minute.

Granger walked in. "I thought Sheriff called you."

"He just did. He told me to sit tight, not get ready for visitors."

Granger walked into the living room and faced me. "Where's Fred?"

I blew out a breath. "Talk to me while I pour tea." I turned toward the kitchen.

"Melanie, this is serious!"

I didn't stop. "I know that. But you want me awake, right? You want some?" I lifted the tea kettle and poured hot water over the bag. "I talked to Fred last night, but not since then."

"You sure?"

I slammed the kettle onto the burner. "Damn it, Granger, of course I'm sure. Do you know who you talked to last night?"

"I don't need your…"

"No! I don't need your prejudice and rude crap. This isn't some television show, and I don't go around killing people or hiding my friends." It was the first time I'd totally lost my temper, and it felt good.

"You're acting guilty as hell."

"Oh, bull. When have you ever even met a murder suspect? You don't know what guilty looks like any more than I do." I picked up my still-steeping tea. "Now you want to have a seat and talk about where the hell Fred could be and how we can find him, I'm all over that. You want to act like some dipwad actor, and we don't have any more to talk about."

For a few seconds, Granger was as still as a bird that doesn't want a cat to see it. "Gimme some tea."

I handed him my mug and turned to make more for myself. "You want sugar or cream?"

"No, thanks." He walked to the trash can at the edge of the kitchen, tossed the teabag, and went into the living room to sit in the recliner.

I filled another mug and added sugar. Before carrying it into the living room, I tightened the cord on my bathrobe. When I sat on the couch to face him, I debated apologizing, but decided he and anyone else who suspected me of killing Hal or hiding Fred could kiss my grits.

"We're starting over," Granger said. "What time did you see Fred last night?"

"At the paper, about four." It didn't seem like the time to fib about anything, so I swallowed and told him Fred had seen Hal pull into Syl's driveway, really late. Same as I did with Sandi and Ryan, I didn't mention Fred had seen Hal's body. I knew I should, but that was something Fred was going to have to tell Sheriff Gallagher himself.

"But Fred didn't tell me that until right then, yesterday. I wanted to make him go right to Sheriff Gallagher, but he said he wanted to call his parents in Florida and write resignation letters. And find somebody to take care of his cat."

Granger had paused with the tea almost at his lips. He finally took a sip and then placed the mug on the coffee table. He appeared to be making a great effort not to rage at me. "Okay. We're going to go over everything Fred said and why he talked to you about this. But I'm gonna let the sheriff know the basics of what you just told me before we go into all that."

Granger walked into my kitchen to use his phone. Yesterday I'd had misgivings about waiting until today to talk to Gallagher. Today I felt like a total fool. I got a sense of the sheriff's opinion from Granger's clipped responses and figured the conversation with Granger or whomever would take place at the sheriff's office. I stood and walked back toward my bedroom.

I really wanted a shower, but there wouldn't be time. I grabbed a pair of cotton slacks and a short-sleeved knit shirt and made for the bathroom. It sounded as if Granger was off the phone, so I called to him. "I'm getting dressed. You want me to ride to the office with you?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. "You can drive yourself, but follow me in."

 

IT WAS TOO EARLY for my least favorite IDI agents to be in River's Edge, so it was the Sheriff and Deputy Granger sitting across from me in the office. Unlike the time Gallagher had interviewed me about Hal, today he took a lot of notes. He had already had another deputy call Sandi and Ryan, and I knew they were on their way in.

Gallagher stared as he spoke. "So the photos Ryan found led you to him. Why did you believe Fred? He's telling you he saw Hal pull into Syl Seaton's. Not telling me that earlier could mean he wanted to make it look like you killed Hal."

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