Read and Buried (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-five

Mystic River is what I’m going down, without a paddle.

A VEILED DECEPTION
—ANNETTE BLAIR

L
izzie quickly showered after her run the next morning and ate her breakfast of granola
and fruit, made sure the cats were okay, then walked out the door, ready for the final
week of classes before the Christmas break.

She couldn’t see who the officer in the cruiser was but thought the build was different.
Right uniform, though. They must have switched while she was inside. When she had
parked in the lot at the school, she got a better look. Officer Craig. She walked
over to the police car and leaned toward the open window.

“I’ll be here until three
P.M.
today so it’s really not necessary for you to hang around,” Lizzie said in as pleasant
a tone as she could muster.

Craig nodded. “Thanks. I’ve got a lot of things I could be following up on. You just
call my cell when you’re ready to leave, you hear?” She handed her business card to
Lizzie. “And if you don’t I’ll be forced to stay by your side wherever you go. Just
remember that.”

Lizzie felt her spine snap to attention until she noticed the twinkle in Craig’s eyes.

“Heaven forbid,” she answered with a smile. “Point taken. I will follow instructions.”
O
kay, so maybe Amber Craig wasn’t so hard-nosed after all
.
Just doing her job. That’s what Mark had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should
try being pleasant in return
, she thought as she walked toward the school.

* * *

L
izzie spent the morning in the library writing more reports. By noon, her brain called
for fresh air but she wanted to check the staff room and see if there was anyone who
hadn’t been in on Friday when she and Sally-Jo did their questioning.

The first person she spotted was Wendy Innes, standing at the counter, refilling the
coffeemaker. Lizzie grabbed her mug out of the cupboard and waited to pour herself
some coffee. Wendy looked over at her and smiled.

“You’ve worked at this school for quite some time, haven’t you, Wendy?” Lizzie asked.

“Oh my, yes. My entire teaching career and that’s over twenty-five years.” She laughed,
a loud belly laugh that was her trademark. All her students loved making her laugh,
just to hear it. What made it so unusual was her size. Lizzie guessed she shopped
in the petite section at Sears.

“So, you’ve lived in Ashton Corners at least that long.”

“Why, I’m a native, Lizzie. Born and raised here. My daddy owned the Remax Theatre,
which is now the Centertown, on Main Street. Not very original, is it? Anyway, I spent
my younger days in front of that screen—got in for free, of course—and the rest of
my time daydreaming. My folks thought I wasn’t good material for nursing or anything
that required absolute fierce concentration, so they directed me into teaching.”

Lizzie nodded. “Most people tend to come back here to settle after being away at college,
don’t they?”

“That they do. Now, what’s got you thinking along those lines? You feeling warmhearted
about our li’l old town?”

Lizzie laughed. “Actually, Ken Wicks and I were talking the other day and he’s been
here a long time, too. We were talking about Derek Alton.”

“Oh dear. That’s right. He was shot in your house. How dreadful for you. I imagine
it still gives you qualms.”

Lizzie nodded, determined not to add any details about yesterday’s shooting. “Ken
said he thought Derek might have lived here a long time ago but couldn’t really be
sure. So, I was wondering if anyone else knew if that were so.”

“Ken’s right, you know. But the reason he wasn’t certain is probably because that’s
not the name Derek Alton went by back then. And he lived here only a couple of years,
at that.”

“You knew him? Derek Alton’s not his real name? What is?”

“I think it was Harry or Harvey, something like that. I didn’t really know him or
his wife, not more than to nod at. We lived on the same block, you know.”

“His wife?” Poor woman probably didn’t even know her husband was dead. But why change
his name? Was it a writer’s pseudonym? But wouldn’t his publishers know if that were
the case? Mark hadn’t mentioned it.

“Oh yes. I’m not really sure what he did, although I guess now I’d say it was writing.
And she did office work someplace, I think. Anyway, they moved away and I didn’t hear
mention of them anymore, although I think he may have left a few broken hearts in
his stead. The gossip at the time was that’s the reason they moved.”

“Would you happen to know where they went?”

“No, I never heard anything more about that. But you should ask Xenia Henshaw over
at the Corners Realty.”

“She knew them?”
And didn’t let on!

“Knew them? Why, sugar, Xenia was his wife.”

“Are you certain? How do you know that?”

“Well, she sold me my new house, that was about ten years ago so I guess it’s not
so new anymore. She’d gone and changed her name, her hair and her large nose and lost
a lot of spare tire from around her middle. I’d only met her once or twice so I didn’t
catch on right away, but something niggled and then it came to me.”

“So who else knows?”

“I have no idea. They didn’t get it from me. I called her on it and she eventually
admitted it, said she didn’t want to be reminded of those terrible days, and I can
respect that.”

“Wow.”

“Uh-huh. The coffee’s ready. Let me pour you some.”

Lizzie shook her head. “No, thanks. On second thought, I need to go see someone. Thanks,
Wendy.”

She was halfway to her car when she remembered Officer Craig. But if she phoned her,
Craig would want to know where she was going, and when they reached the realty office,
she’d probably want to know why. Lizzie took a quick scan around. She didn’t see anyone
dangerous-looking, especially no one with a gun. She’d do it on her own.

She pulled into a parking spot half a block from the office and hoped Xenia would
be there, and be free. She glanced at her watch. She had about forty minutes. She
opened the door to the office and found Xenia in the same spot as last time, scrolling
through something on the computer screen.

“You’re a very busy person, aren’t you?” Xenia asked. “I just wish you were coming
through that door looking for a listing.”

“As it is, Xenia, I’m looking for more information. Like why you didn’t tell me about
being married to Derek Alton.”

The shocked look stayed on Xenia’s face only a few seconds but long enough for Lizzie
to notice. She felt a certain satisfaction in catching Xenia Henshaw in a lie.

“We aren’t married.”

Lizzie opened her mouth to respond but Xenia held up her manicured hand.

“We divorced about twenty-three years ago and I hadn’t seen him since. I was as surprised
as everyone else that he came to town. And his name wasn’t Derek Alton at the time
we were married, so what I told you was true: I didn’t know Derek because he didn’t
exist.” She sat back, a small smug look on her face.

Lizzie toyed with making a smart mark about semantics but decided not to. “What was
his real name?”

“Harvey Warren. He changed it when he sent
Judgment
out to a publisher. He’d had so many rejects as Harvey; he hoped to get a fresh start.
He even invented a new background, one that didn’t include me. Of course, I’d had
it by then anyway. We divorced just after moving.”

Lizzie wondered if Mark was aware of this. If so, he hadn’t told her. Of course, he
hadn’t told her much of anything lately. “In that case, I’m wondering why you wanted
to come to the book club.”

“Just as I’d said, I was curious as to how he was doing, what he was writing. For
old times’ sake, you know.”

“How were you about the breakup?”

“How was I? How do you think I was? I’d struggled to keep going, working at a nothing
job, while he just stayed home and wrote and gave a couple of night-school classes.
That was when he wasn’t screwing other women, of course. But it was my decision to
leave him. Get that straight.”

She stood abruptly, pushing the chair back into the filing cabinet, and walked over
to the counter where the coffeemaker sat. She poured a cup, turned and offered it
to Lizzie, who shook her head. Xenia shrugged, added some sugar and milk, took a small
sip and walked back to the desk.

“And with all that, you still were curious about him, for old times’ sake?” Lizzie
couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.

Xenia shrugged again. “That was then. I changed back to my maiden name and Xenia’s
my middle name but I felt more like a Xenia—strong and ready for anything. I took
the Realtor’s course, got some experience and moved back here.”

“Why come back?”

“I liked the feel of this town and I wasn’t about to go back to my hometown. Too many
bad memories and everyone would know the whole Harvey story. At least here, we hadn’t
done much as a couple so I thought people might not remember. So I made some changes
to my appearance and here I am. A new person.”

“Nobody guessed?”

“Well, obviously somebody did or you wouldn’t have found out about it. But I kept
away from the old neighborhood and anyone I might have known and put a lot of time
and money into publicizing my new profile. Often people will readily believe what
you tell them, you know.” She was silent a few minutes, and Lizzie let her sit there
thinking, wondering where her thoughts were wandering.

“I guess a part of me wanted to rub Harvey’s nose in it,” Xenia finally admitted.
“Show him I was a successful businesswoman. That’s why I wanted to go to the book
club.” She took a long sip and stared at Lizzie, her eyes challenging.

“How did you feel when you heard he was dead?”

“Shocked.” She paused. “Yes, shocked, but that was all. There was nothing else left
to feel.”

Lizzie glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind Xenia. “I’ve got to get back
to school.” She stood and was about to thank Xenia when she thought of another question.

“Did you see him at all while he was here?”

Xenia took her time in answering. “Yes. He stopped in for a few minutes on his way
to your place, actually. He invited me to the book club and said I’d find what he
had to say about his new book to be very interesting.”

“What do you think he meant by that?”

“Knowing Harvey, it would have to be something with some shock value.”

Chapter Twenty-six

Okay, I’ve been stupid in the past. Not consistently stupid, but occasionally stupid.

DEAD RECKONING
—CHARLAINE HARRIS

A
s soon as her afternoon meeting at school ended, Lizzie phoned Officer Craig and waited
until the black-and-white cruiser pulled into the parking lot before going out to
her car. All she wanted was a quiet evening at home, a treat since the literacy classes
were over until the New Year. She neglected to tell Craig about her noon-hour excursion
but did mention she didn’t have to hang around all evening.

Lizzie gave a small wave as she entered her house. She needed something to eat. Her
eyes strayed to the upper cupboard door that had been replaced, along with the back
panel where the bullet had lodged after smashing through one can of chickpeas, a box
of rice crackers and a vacuum-packed bag of dried cranberries. An uncontrollable shiver
snaked through her body. She pulled her eyes away and reached for the phone. Mark
answered his cell phone on the third ring.

“I hate to bug you at work but I really need to know if you’ve had any progress on
the shooting?” She couldn’t quite keep the desperation out of her voice.

“Are you all right? Has anything else happened? Is Officer Craig still with you?”

Lizzie gave a small laugh. “Hadn’t you told me that a trained investigator should
ask only one question at a time?”

Mark let out a deep breath. “You got me. I had some trouble with that course at police
training. Are you okay?”

“I suppose. I was about to make supper and I opened the cupboard and it all just seemed
sort of overwhelming. I just thought if you had any news, it would help.” Lizzie sat
down hard on a chair.

“I get what you’re saying but other than telling you the bullet we dug out of your
cupboard matches the one that killed Alton, there’s not much. I’ve got some leads
we’re checking but nothing definite as yet. Look, I’m going to take a break, walk
Patchett and then stop by the Oasis for a quick bite. Why don’t you meet me there?”

“Okay, but why don’t I walk Patchett for you?”

“That would be a help. Can you do it now and we’ll hook up around six?”

Lizzie glanced at the clock. “I can and will. See you then.”

Hmm. Not bad. Maybe they were back on track. And also, she might get some more answers.
Of course, she had information for him, too, although she’d have to leave out some
of the details, such as how many times she’d talked to Xenia. She’d tell him what
she’d learned though. She quickly changed into a black-and-white knit top and jeans,
fed the cats, grabbed her car keys and stopped only long enough to tell Officer Craig
about her destination. She noticed a slight lifting of eyebrows, then a nod.

After a half-hour challenging walk around a few blocks, Lizzie returned Patchett indoors,
gave him some treats and refilled his water dish. She knew she was in need of dog-training
classes. She’d assumed that filling in for Mark at the classes he couldn’t make would
do the trick. But Mark had made it to all of them so far. She wondered if there were
any classes for the walkers only. Either that or she might soon have an arm pulled
out of its socket.

She drove over to Main Street and parked in the side lot next to Mark’s Jeep. Officer
Craig pulled in behind her and met her halfway between their cars.

“I’m assuming I’ll hear from the chief if he needs me again,” she said, and she waited
until Lizzie had entered the diner before driving off.

* * *

M
ark followed Lizzie home after their dinner then waited until Officer Craig arrived
before going back to the station. It had been a relaxed meal, with Mark discouraging
any talk about the investigation. At least Lizzie felt her personal life had slid
back into place. She did have an anxious moment, though, when she told him about her
talk with Xenia Henshaw as they left the diner. He was not at all happy that she’d
gone against his wishes, although the information she’d found out did please him.

Lizzie sat at her desk in her home office and made a list of people to talk to. Xenia
Henshaw was at the top. She needed to find out if
Judgment
was based on fact. And, she wanted to know more about Derek’s alleged affairs. Could
he be Flynn, his own main character? And if so, who were the women? Was that the reason
she’d had two female callers in the last week asking about Derek’s new book?

She’d obviously have to start questioning the callers, if there were any more, to
find out their identities. She scrolled back through the caller ID list on her phone
to see if any of the names and numbers might be listed. She couldn’t remember what
days the calls came in and the list showed several unknown listings. Maybe they were
blocking their calls.

She jotted down one number she didn’t recognize. She’d try the reverse phone book,
and if no luck, she would try calling it later.

As if sensing her thoughts, the phone rang and she almost dropped the receiver. This
caller ID did show. Jensey Pollard.

“Hi, Lizzie. I hope I’m not disturbing anything.”

“Not at all, Jensey. I was just catching up on some paperwork. Nothing that can’t
wait. How are you?”

“Fine. Just fine. But I was wondering the same about you. I heard this afternoon that
you’d been shot at. What a shock that must have been. You weren’t hurt, I hope.”

“No, I wasn’t. The shooter must not have been very good.” She laughed.

“That’s a relief,” Jensey said. “And so soon after Derek Alton being killed. I wonder,
I shouldn’t say anything, but I wonder if that first shot had also been meant for
you. Oh dear, such a stupid thing to say. I hope I haven’t upset you?”

Lizzie sucked in her breath. “I don’t know who would want to shoot me. It’s more likely
the killer thought I saw him or her. But I didn’t.”

“Her? Do you really think a woman might have killed him? In all the cozies, women
usually choose poison as the method of murder.”

But this is real life.
“We can’t make any assumptions.”

“So true. Did he tell you anything that might be a clue? Do you think it might have
something to do with his new book? I read somewhere that he said there might be some
people not too happy with it.”

“You read that? Where?”

Jensey sighed. “I can’t remember right now. Maybe in one of the trade magazines. It
was a while ago and I’ve forgotten most of the details. Did he talk about the new
plot with you?”

“Like the last time you asked, the answer’s the same. No, we didn’t talk about it.”
Lizzie knew she sounded snippy but this was beginning to grate.

“Sorry, dear. I’ve got a lot on my mind these days. Business and all. I’m probably
repeating myself all over the place. I’ll let you go now. I just wanted to make sure
everything’s okay.”

“Thanks, Jensey. I appreciate the call. I’ll be in again before Christmas for some
more presents.”
And probably buy way too many books, to make up for my snippiness
.

Lizzie sat holding the receiver for a few minutes before finally putting it back in
the cradle. She and Jensey were friendly enough but they never called each other at
home. Highly unusual but very nice of her, Lizzie thought, tensing her shoulder muscles
and holding them for a count of fifteen, then slowly relaxing. She realized just how
uptight she was. No wonder she bordered on rude. Time to give it a rest.

She wandered downstairs, poured a glass of water and leaned against the counter, trying
not to think about the whole business. Brie sauntered into the kitchen and did a slow
stroll through her legs until Lizzie finally bent down to stroke her back. She pulled
out her brush and spent the next few minutes lazily brushing her. To top it off, she
opened a new bag of treats, which brought Edam scampering down the stairs, arriving
just in time for his own handful of seafood tidbits.

Lizzie picked up her copy of
Judgment
from the kitchen counter and took it into the living room. As she closed the drapes,
she could see the police cruiser parked in front of her house, with Officer Craig
standing beside the driver’s door, probably stretching her legs. She curled up in
the bucket chair beside the good reading lamp and started flipping through it again.

The phone disturbed her. She glanced at her watch to see that she’d been reading for
over an hour. Another unknown caller.

She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice, but the question was becoming very familiar.

“I was just wondering,” said the somewhat hesitant female voice, “if Derek Alton gave
you any information about this new book he was writing?”

“No. Not to me but I’ll ask around the book club. If you’ll just give me your name
and number, I’ll get back to you.”

“Oh no, that’s quite all right. If you don’t know, I’m sure no one does.”

“Who is this and why are you asking?”

“Idle curiosity, my dear.” The caller hung up.

Idle
curiosity, my cheese straw!
She’d start logging the calls.