Read and Buried (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-three

“There are many things that are unbelievable,” said Poirot. “Especially before breakfast,
is it not?”

THE ADVENTURE OF THE CHRISTMAS PUDDING
—AGATHA CHRISTIE

L
izzie straightened her long black skirt, after putting on her black shoes with the
midheight heel that gave her the right amount of support for two hours of standing.
She checked the mirror one final time. Black jersey wrap top, small, discreet silver
studs in her ears. She grabbed her purse, her music binder and a light jacket and
left.

At the church, the choristers made their way to the risers for a warm-up and quick
rehearsal. They had an hour in which to get it right before the doors would be opened
to the public. The orchestra was busy tuning, and spouses who had been talked into
taking tickets at the door and handing out programs waited at the back.

Stanton Giles strode in, had a brief talk with the orchestra’s concertmaster and then
called for quiet. He led them through five minutes of warm-up before turning to the
Britten.

Lizzie’s fingers tingled. She always loved this part the best. As hoped, all of last
night’s mistakes had disappeared, heads were up out of the music watching Giles and
cues were not missed. She knew the concert would be great.

After about half an hour, the stage director gave them final instructions and they
filtered back to their assigned room to await the curtain.

Lizzie joined a small group of sopranos at the far end of the table discussing the
latest George Clooney movie in town. She spotted Lucille, head buried in her music,
mouthing words to herself, off in a corner. Finally, the knock on the door, and they
went out into the hall to line up in order for the walk onto the risers.

From what Lizzie could see, the church was packed. People were scurrying to take their
seats and the emcee went through his usual welcome and warning about turning off cell
phones. Then they were singing. She felt transported, away from the audience, away
from Derek Alton, away from Mark . . . eyes riveted on Giles, the music filling her
body and soul. All too soon, it was over and the choir bowed on cue to a standing
ovation, then filed out.

After turning in her music to the choir librarian, Lizzie made her way to the reception
hall in the church basement and was immediately surrounded by friends.

“Great concert,” said Brad.

Paige hugged her. “You looked and sounded terrific. And, Mark was here but left right
after.”

“At least he came,” Lizzie said, smiling, although she was totally disappointed he’d
ducked out.

Molly and Bob appeared at her side, with Lucille in pursuit.

“I so enjoyed it, honey,” Molly said, giving her a warm hug. The dazzling greens,
yellows and blues of her Indian sari looked festive although slightly out of place.
Just how many countries are on her agenda?
“I’ve always loved the Britten. What did you think, Bob?”

Bob shifted from one foot to the other. He nodded his head. “Yup, it was good.”

“And which piece did you enjoy the most?” Lucille demanded.

Bob swallowed hard. “Umm, the last one.”

Lucille snorted. “You’d probably say, ‘Because it was the last one,’ if I asked you
why. So, I’m not going to.” She gave his cheek a friendly swat and moved away.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said, “but maybe we could leave real soon, Molly?” He
looked pointedly at Lucille’s retreating back.

Molly laughed. “Of course, I just wanted to let Lizzie know what I thought. Let’s
go, then. We can have some eats at my place.” She gave Lizzie another hug.

Bob did the same and they left. Lizzie looked for Paige but she was talking to someone
Lizzie didn’t know, so she didn’t disturb them.

“Great concert,” George Havers said, slinging an arm around Lizzie’s shoulder.

Lizzie thanked him and gave his wife, Sandra, a hug. “It’s so nice to see you again,
Sandra. It’s been a while.”

“It has, but I’ve been reading all about you,” Sandra said, suddenly serious.

“Yeah. There’s that.”

“It was such a good concert. I enjoyed it very much.” She gave Lizzie’s arm a squeeze
and then maneuvered George toward the food.

After talking to Nathaniel, Sally-Jo and Jacob, and several teachers, Lizzie eased
her way toward the door and made her escape. She was exhausted when she reached home.
No cats when she opened the door. She found them asleep on her bed and it didn’t take
her long to join them.

Chapter Twenty-four

“Let’s lay out what we’ve got so far,” she said briskly.

BURN
—NEVADA BARR

S
unday morning. An espresso and the
Birmingham News
, both enjoyed in bed. Both cats content, curled up against Lizzie’s legs. Soft classical
music on the NPR station playing in the background. A good start to the morning. Lizzie
had put her run on hold for the day. Eventually, she crawled out of bed, shrugged
into her robe and padded downstairs to start breakfast.

Waffles it would be. She mixed up the batter and got it cooking in the Cuisinart griddle
while making herself another espresso. The cats wandered in and checked their dishes,
noisily attacking the food she’d left them. Lizzie leaned back against the counter
and smiled. All was good in her world.

The shot shattered the kitchen door window and her serenity. It slammed into an upper
cabinet door, just inches from where Lizzie stood. She dropped to the ground. The
cats scattered. She eyed the cup in her hand and finished drinking.
At least I didn’t spill my espresso. I must be in shock.

She peered around the end of the counter, toward the back door, but couldn’t see any
movement. Just shards of glass all over the floor. The phone sat on the counter across
the room, but she’d be out of sight if she stayed low. She took great care in setting
her cup down on the floor and crab-walked over, pulled down the phone and dialed 911.
She’d have to round up the cats and lock them in her bedroom before they got into
the glass. She continued her crab-walk into the hall, dared to stand and sprinted
upstairs. She found them huddled under her bed. After reassuring them, she closed
the bedroom door and had made it to the bottom of the stairs as the sirens turned
onto the street.

Nathaniel pounded on her front door, calling her name. She let him in and quickly
explained what had happened. Officer Craig was the first one through the door.

“What happened? Are you all right?” She sounded concerned, Lizzie thought gratefully.

“Someone just took a shot at me. I was standing in the kitchen.” She pointed the way.

“You just stay here with your neighbor while we check it out. And stay away from windows,
you hear?”

Lizzie heeded and allowed herself to lean into the comfort of Nathaniel’s arm around
her shoulders. A few minutes later, Craig rejoined them. “I’m going to help search
outside. I’ll close your living room drapes and then you can go sit in there and wait.
I’ve contacted the chief. He’s on his way.” She trailed a mixture of leaves and dirt
into the living room and back out to the door.

Lizzie let out the breath she’d been holding, half expecting to hear someone shoot
Officer Craig. She led the way into the living room and sat on the settee, her legs
tucked up under her. “I could sure use another espresso.”

Nathaniel chuckled, although it sounded strained. “I was thinking of a Jack Daniels,
myself. I wasn’t quite sure that what I heard was a gunshot, but I thought I’d better
check. I did think, ‘Oh no, not again,’ though.”

Lizzie glanced at the navy bathrobe Nathaniel was wearing, his multicolored striped
pajamas poking out at the bottom, brown moccasin slippers on his feet. It looked like
he was having a slow Sunday morning, too.

It didn’t take long for Mark to make it over to her house. She heard his car door
slam, and a few minutes later, he burst into the living room. He sat beside Lizzie
and put his arm around her, kissing her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m physically fine. My nerves are shot, though. So to speak.”

“What happened?”

“I had an espresso while I was waiting for my waffle to be ready—Holy Moses, my waffle.”
She leapt off the couch but Mark grabbed her hand.

“Don’t go in there. I’ll check on it. Just sit down and wait here.”

She nodded and obeyed. A couple of minutes later he was back. “Not edible, I’m afraid,
but the griddle had cut off before igniting. So, you were waiting. Standing where?”

“Leaning against the counter facing the backyard. And all of a sudden, I heard this
loud noise and my window in the back door shattered. I dropped to the ground and crawled
over to the phone.”

Mark frowned. “I’m going to take a look. You stay sitting here with Mr. Creely and
try to relax. Do not go near any windows or doors, you hear?”

Lizzie nodded and shivered.

Mark looked at her a few more seconds and went back into the kitchen. Lizzie noticed
with concern that his limp was more pronounced. Usually, she didn’t give it a second
thought. She knew he didn’t, and as yet, he hadn’t even explained to her how he was
injured. She assumed it was during his stint in the army. A time in his life he wasn’t
ready to share with her.
He must be exhausted.

She listened but couldn’t quite make out what the officers were shouting to each other
outside. She stood, hesitated a moment, and then walked over to the window, pulling
the drapes back slightly to get a look outside. Four police cars, two with overhead
lights still flashing, were parked at odd angles in her driveway. Mark’s Jeep was
at the curb. She could see Craig and two other officers checking the driveway and
neighbors’ yards. The neighbors were all probably getting an eyeful.

She glanced at her car. Had Andrea been right? Was someone was trying to kill her?
She shuddered.

“Why don’t you come back and sit down, my dear?” Nathaniel suggested.

“I’m too antsy. Sorry. Maybe I’ll go upstairs and get dressed. You really don’t have
to stay, Nathaniel. I do so appreciate your coming over, though.” She put her hand
on his arm and squeezed it.

He looked down at his own clothing. “You’re right. I’ll go on home and get dressed
also. I’ll be back in a little while, though. Or if they kick you out again, just
come next door.”

Lizzie gave a small, nervous laugh. “They’d better not. I want some answers.”

She saw him out the door then ran upstairs, taking care not to scare the cats as she
opened the bedroom door. “It’s me, babies. I’m going to get dressed. You two just
stay up here for a while. Everything will be okay.” She moved over to the windows,
keeping to the wall, and pulled the curtains shut.

She quickly pulled on black jeans and a pink long-sleeved T, adding a lightweight
fleece zippered jacket and a pair of black Keds on her feet. It took just a couple
of minutes to brush her teeth, add some eye shadow and lipstick and run a brush through
her hair before tying it back in a ponytail. She felt energized from the action. Just
sitting around waiting was getting her down.

Mark reentered the house through the front door as Lizzie reached the bottom step.
He shook his head. “There’s not much to go on. Maybe we’ll find some casings in a
yard, once we figure out the angle the shot came from. How are you feeling?”

“I’m a bit shaky but good to go. I want some answers, Mark. What’s this all about?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. The first thing that comes to mind is Derek Alton’s
murder. Either the killer thinks you saw something . . .”

“That’s what Andie thinks.”

“What?”

“Andie Mason thinks the killer thinks I spotted him or her and is trying to silence
me. But if that were the case, it’s not someone from around here. Because I would
already have told you who it was and you would have arrested them.” She sat down with
a thud, reluctant to hear the other part of Mark’s theory.

“Or, maybe you didn’t see the killer but instead saw something that might eventually
click with you and you’ll realize who it is. That’s his or her fear.”

Lizzie brightened at the thought.
She wasn’t the target.

“Or Alton wasn’t the target. You were.”

Lizzie shrank back into the seat and folded her arms across her chest. “There’s no
reason to kill me. Not because of Derek’s murder and not because of any other reason.”

Mark pulled over a chair and sat facing her, knees almost touching. “Are you sure?
Can you think of anyone who’s upset with you? Someone you’ve angered or who threatened
you, even if it’s totally off base?”

Her mind was blank. She shook her head. “No, I can’t think of anyone.”

“Someone from work?”

She thought back to the interviews and interactions she’d had at the school over the
past few months. Nothing came to mind. The same for the literacy class, choir and
jogging. “No. Nothing and no one. Nothing I do would elicit such an extreme reaction.
I’m sure of that, Mark.” She looked at him.

“What if it had something to do with you? Maybe a jealous former girlfriend?” She
realized too late that she’d spoken the words out loud. Mark’s eyes clouded over as
he thought about it. Just how many former girlfriends were there, she wondered?

“That’s unlikely, but I wonder about the job. Maybe someone’s holding a grudge and
might try something like that to get even with me. I come across all sorts of wackos,
even here in Ashton Corners.”

“You didn’t warn me about the hazards of dating a cop,” she said with a small smile.
“That’s quite a stretch, though, don’t you think?”

He looked at her and smiled. “Probably. I shouldn’t even float that theory. Doesn’t
do much for my romantic credentials.”

Lizzie laughed. Despite the terror and the very real threat, she was so happy that
they seemed back to normal. “You’ve got that right. But seriously, I don’t think I’m
the target. I can’t be. I live a very ordinary life. Except for when Frank Telford
was killed. But that murderer is behind bars.”

“With his trial coming up next year. I wonder if someone doesn’t want you testifying.
What about the girlfriend?”

“I can’t see her as a killer. And in any case, I’m not the only one who will be called
to testify. What about Molly and Bob and Sally-Jo? Gads, the entire book club.” Her
imagination got the better of her for a minute. “Do you think it’s part of a massive
plot? You can’t protect us all.”

Mark reached out and grabbed her hand. “Whoa. Let’s think small to start with. I can
and will protect you. And I’ll also have a chat with the girlfriend, just to be on
the safe side.”

Mark stood, pulling Lizzie up also, and wrapped her in his arms. “I’ve got to get
back out there. What are your plans for the rest of the day? You’re going to see your
mama soon, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, right after lunch. Then, I’ve got a lot of stuff to do around here, including
getting that window replaced.”

“I’ll send Ozzie Verge along to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh no, Mark. Is it really necessary? I don’t like the idea of someone following me
and I’m sure there’s a lot more important police work to be doing.”

“You’ve just had a shot fired through your window. The second in two weeks. Yeah,
I think it’s necessary. Don’t worry, Verge’ll stay in his car. Indulge me, Lizzie,
and don’t give me any grief on this, okay?”

Lizzie nodded. Reluctantly.

* * *

L
izzie found her mama sitting in her favorite chair, holding the Christmas ornament
from last weekend. She wondered if Evelyn carried it around with her all the time.
Did it take her to a place of good memories? She hoped so.

While her mama seemed more alert and even answered the odd question, Lizzie knew not
to get her hopes up too high. It did give her the impetus to track down the manager
before she left and ask about taking Evelyn Turner home for Christmas.

“I know it’s important for you to have her at your place, Ms. Turner,” said Mrs. Farthington,
sitting back in her chair. They were in her office, a small but highly efficient–looking
space melding her obvious taste for contemporary design with the comfort of her clients.
The chair Lizzie sat in had a straight back but also loads of padding to soothe any
tired body.

“I don’t think you realize just the amount of attention your mama requires,” she went
on, “not necessarily physical, although she needs assistance in dressing and dining
often. But she tends to wander when left on her own. And, you can’t be with her every
minute, I’m sure. She also gets agitated when she leaves Magnolia Manor and its gardens.
And while you see some improvement in her demeanor and you’re wanting a wonderful
family Christmas, I don’t see that as the outcome. I’m sorry.”

Lizzie closed her eyes briefly and nodded. She’d sort of expected this and thought
she’d just press her point, but now, she wasn’t so sure.

“She is your mama, and if you insist, we will, of course, follow your wishes. But
I don’t think that it’s wise.”

“I understand, Mrs. Farthington. If I look at it from Mama’s point, it’s better she
stays here. And so she will. Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

Lizzie stood and they shook hands. She left feeling down but realized it was mainly
because her fanciful thoughts of the perfect Christmas were strictly that. She did
have an invitation to Molly’s and she would stop by to see Evelyn before church on
Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day for a visit. That was just how things were.