Armed Page 18

  I took my coat off and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair, my fingers gently brushing the worn wood of the captain’s chair where my father sat every night at dinner. The kitchen walls remained yellow though new coats of paint got slapped on every few years. The counter tops shined with updated granite, but other than that, it looked the same. A door on the far wall led to a laundry room that also served as a storage area for Mom’s recyclables. My mother saved every scrap of wrapping paper for re-use, pieces of aluminum foil to wrap around another potato, and a horde of plastic bags she couldn’t part with.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said, as my father came into the kitchen and then I stopped dead in my tracks. “That’s not funny.” I reached over and snapped the bowtie around his neck as a smile spread across my face. “Well, okay, it is.”

  “Sorry, Alex. I couldn’t resist.”

  Harry Harris was like my mother, tall. Both my parents had thick hair and neither had thought about passing it on to me. My dad also had sapphire blue eyes that hadn’t lost any of their luster. Dad worked as an insurance agent. Semi-retired now, he still managed to keep himself busy with a few clients who would have nothing to do with anyone but him. He also arranged for all insurance matters for Sam and me and our business.

  “Aunt Alex, you’re here! Can we go now?” Henry came into the kitchen, his hat and coat already on, a pair of ice skates in his hands.

  “Not yet, Sweetie, we’re waiting for your mom and dad.”

  “They keep us young, those two. What have you done to your hair?” Mom asked, coming up behind her grandson and turning me around and admiring it.

  “I highlighted it this morning. What do you think?”

  “I like it,” Mom nodded. “The color suits your skin tone. Very nice.”

  Mom moved over to the counter and began placing rolls into a container. “I just made a batch of cinnamon rolls to take with us. I’ve got a big thermos of hot, spiced apple juice and your sister’s bringing another one. We haven’t gone skating for ages, Alex. What made you think of it?”

  “I saw a few skaters on the pond and thought it would be nice to take the kids. Besides, we could all use, I mean I could use, a nice diversion.”

  I reached for a bun and Mom playfully slapped my hand.

  “They’re for later. You’re just like Henry. He stuck his finger in the icing the moment I put it down.”

  “I like licking the bowl. You know the greatest thing about being a grownup and living on my own?”

  “I have a good idea.” Mom eyed me.

  “Being able to lick the bowl all by myself and not having to share it with a bossy older sister.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows. “Speak of the devil. I think they’re here.”

  We went out to the living room and I immediately grabbed Sam. “Don’t mention anything about Friday night. I haven’t told Mom and Dad. No need to worry them.”

  Sam looked at my hair and gave me the thumbs up sign and then we all piled into her mini-van and drove to the center of Indian Cove.

  Five minutes later we arrived at a pond crowded with skaters. As with all good ideas, unfortunately we weren’t the only ones to have it. Everyone had skates except Mom who sat beside another grandmother.

  The ice shone like a highly polished piece of glass, smooth and devoid of any pits.

  “Why don’t we do this more often?” Dad asked, holding onto the small hands of Kendall and Henry.

  “Look, Grandpa, I’m doing it all by myself,” Kendall said as she broke away.

  We watched as she skated toward the center of the pond.

  “Alex, how’s it going over at Poupée? William said the police haven’t arrested anyone yet. What’s going on?”

  Henry squiggled out of my dad’s grasp and skated off after his sister, grabbing onto her scarf and pulling her down where they tumbled around on the ice while their parents shamelessly showed off on the other side of the pond.

  I shrugged and started to skate slowly. “I don’t know, Dad. I’ve talked with a lot of the employees but I haven’t come up with a theory yet. At least not one I consider sufficient enough to lead to murder.”

  “Did your mother tell you she won again on Friday night? We’ve got enough wine in our cellar to make a Frenchman envious. I didn’t do too badly on one of the games. I used all my letters on my first turn including an X to make SARDONYX.”

  “Sardonyx?”

  Dad shook his head. “It’s a variety of quartz. Don’t ask me how the heck I knew that one, but it put me in the lead, for a while anyway. Oh, and Alex,” Dad placed his hand on my arm. “Thank you for going over to the center.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I hope Grandpa will be okay.”

  “They’re treating him. I’ll keep a better eye on him. I’m going over this afternoon to take him some of your mother’s homemade soup. He always loved it.”

  “He’ll be fine.” I eyed my sister and brother-in-law on the opposite side of the pond. “Come on. Let’s give those two over there a look at what real skaters can do.”

  Dad grabbed my hand and whirled me across the ice. “Ta-da! What about that? Didn’t think your old man still had it in him, did you?”

  “Harry, exactly what do you call that little swirly thing you managed to pull off over there?” my brother-in-law Michael asked.

  Sam’s husband is a dentist and a good guy. I love him dearly but he loves to talk about teeth. Putting my fingers in someone else’s mouth all day is not what I would want to do for a living.

  “It’s called pensioners pirouette and can only be executed by men over sixty, so don’t even think about trying it,” Dad said with a chuckle.

  “Anybody ready for a cinnamon roll and a hot drink?” Mom called from the sidelines.

  “I am!”

  “Me, too!” Kendall and Henry skated off.

  “Guess who is heading this way and proving to be quite a good little skater?” Sam asked as she grabbed my arm.

  “I don’t know?” I tried to wiggle free from her grasp.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Harris, Mrs. Daniels.”

  I recognized the voice and turned to see Detective Van der Burg.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need a warm drink. Would you like to join us, Detective?” Sam asked in mock innocence.

  “Thank you. Maybe in a bit.”

  Sam skated off but not before I gave her a murderous scowl.

  “Are you following me, Detective Van der Burg?”

  “John.”

  “What?”

  “John. That’s my name. Detective Van der Burg takes too long to say.”

  “Okay. John. Are you following me?”

  “No. I’m just out for a bit of fresh air. I noticed the skaters the other day and thought what a good idea.”

  “Shouldn’t you be out catching a killer?”

  “Why are you always so hostile toward me, Alex? I can call you Alex?”

  “Yes. I don’t think I’m being hostile.” I paused and looked down at my skates for a moment. I looked back up at him and managed a small smile “Well, okay, maybe I’m getting back at you for the shovel. I’m sorry. I just want this thing finished.” We skated slowly around the pond. “Have you come up with anything concrete yet?”

  “We have a few theories.”

  “Anything you’d care to share?”

  “Not for the moment.”

  “Well, does it have anything to do with Jerry Gagliano?”

  John laughed. “You’re really hooked on him being the killer. We’re checking him out. We’re checking everybody out. He has an alibi as I mentioned. No one saw him come home, but a few neighbors did see him out about ten walking his dog. Has a little poodle. I wouldn’t think of him as a poodle man.

  “These same neighbors say he yelled a lot before his wife left. They hadn’t been married all that long, but he’s lived in the house for years. Before he married he had a whole string of women. None ever lasted very long.

  “Anyway.” John shrugged. “W
e know he took a walk at ten, which gives us nothing. He claims he went to the grocery store right after he left the factory. No receipt. Says he left it on the checkout counter. I never pick mine up either so he could be telling the truth. Oh, and we talked to Mrs. Scott’s doctor and to Mr. Poupée. The doctor said she didn’t have MS and Mr. Poupée said she never said anything about being sick.”

  “Maybe her doctor didn’t know because she went to a specialist,” I said.

  “That’s what I thought too, but I asked and he said her annual physical two months ago showed nothing.”

  “Oh.”

  “It was probably just a note she wrote to herself. A reminder for something. Is that your family over there?”

  “Yes. You know my sister and that’s her husband and their two children.” I pointed to where Henry karate chopped his sister. “And my parents are standing over there. Would you like to stop and have something to drink? There should be some cinnamon rolls left, too.”

  “That would be nice. I like your hair.”

  I blushed like a silly schoolgirl and skated ahead of him so he couldn’t see my face.

  We sat by the mini-van trying to keep warm and my mom handed each of us a cup of cider.

  “LT tells us there’s nothing new on the murder front,” my dad said to John.

  LT? Did my father just call me LT? He hadn’t used that term for me in twenty-five years. Was he mad? I looked out toward the ice hoping to see a crack expanding that I could fling myself into.

  “LT?” John asked.

  Jesus.

  “Gee, I don’t know where that came from,” Dad chuckled. “We used to call Alex LT. Little Terror. I haven’t called her that in a long time.”

  John’s eyes were on me while I continued my search for a large hole in the ice. I would never live this down. Jesus.

  “Is this your first murder case?” Dad asked.

  John told my parents that for Indian Cove, yes, but up in Boston he had seen his share over his ten years on their force. It was one reason why he wanted to get out of the big city and come back to Connecticut. The slow pace of Indian Cove and the small surrounding towns his department covered suited him fine and he liked being close to New York. He enjoyed going into the city for the theater and the food. He tired to have dinner with his parents every week, and he volunteered as a big brother to a boy in New Haven.

  Sam leaned over and whispered in my ear while the men still talked. “Good looking, athletic, likes the arts and fine food, has a charitable soul, a good son—what more could a girl want, huh, LT?”

  I tried to shrug her off and wished I could do a karate kick like Henry. “Would you be quiet!”

  “I think you should ask him out. I’m pretty sure he would say yes.”

  “I’m too busy,” I whispered. I had never asked a man out before. The fear of rejection lingered over me.

  “You could find the time if you wanted. I think you’re scared of rejection, but I’m telling you, the man would not say no.”

  As always, Sam knew me too well. I jumped up and made my way back to the pond. I felt bitterly cold and would like nothing more than to go back home and cuddle up with a good book. I rephrased that in my mind. I would like nothing more than to go somewhere with John for a cup of tea and more talk. John. I liked it. He looked like a John.

  I glanced back to where they all sat. For a split second, John looked over at me and our eyes locked. His soft gray ones picked up the deep blue of his jacket. I turned and headed for the center of the pond. A few minutes later I looked back again but he was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Turn left at the next corner,” Meme said.

  I put my signal on and turned onto a street with so much snow pushed up against the curbs that two cars could no longer pass.

  “Who’s next on the list?” I asked.

  “Billy Chance. He’s a good kid. Been lending money to his family for years. His grandfather worked with your grandfather. He fell on hard times a few years ago, but now he’s got a detailing company and he’s doing real good. Your sister told me about Lawrence.” My grandmother gave a hearty hoot. “Wish I could’ve seen that. That man had his bowtie too tight all these years. He needed to let it hang loose.”

  “It wasn’t exactly loose,” I snickered, feeling guilty at laughing at Grandpa’s expense.

  “I just hope your father doesn’t take after him. Poor Mabel,” Meme said.

  I flashed back to my Dad standing in the kitchen with a bowtie earlier and quickly pushed the thought away.

  “You’ve had a busy couple of days, Honey. Sam told me about Friday night. You shoulda called. I played Pinochle with Sybil Sibleman. Try saying that three times fast when you had a bit too much Manischewitz. I lost. I could a used a night breaking and entering. And the way that cop looked at you, I would have liked to see that.” Meme turned and smiled at me. We had no secrets from Meme. What I didn’t tell her, Sam would. “I told you to go after him. He’s got the hots for you something bad from what your sister said.”

  I listened to Meme’s banter while I guided my car down a street lined with old houses wondering what Detective Van der Burg, no, John, was doing and who he was doing it with. Probably no one or else he would have brought her to the pond.

  “Too bad you didn’t find any drugs. That would have cleared things up nicely.”

  “A long shot, but Sam and Millie wanted to find out. I still think whatever got Mrs. Scott killed is tied up in that place and now we know it’s not drugs.”

  “Pull up to the second house on the right,” Meme said.

  Meme, my little grandmother, the one with the hat and the colored hair and the little purse, lived a double life as a loan shark. Okay, obviously not the kind you see on the Sopranos whacking everybody, but she had been lending money to a small group of people for as long as I could remember. She charged them less interest than the bank would, but in truth, I knew it had nothing to do with money. Her brownstone in New Haven had sold for a mint and with the small pension she received from my grandfather’s former employer, Meme had it made. I suspected my grandmother got a kick out of being a loan shark, and if she ended up helping a few families out, so much the better.

  “You stay in the car, honey. These are proud people and I don’t like putting their hard times on display.”

  I watched Meme heave herself out of my small car and walk up a recently shoveled path. The house looked old, but it had a clean feel to it. A welcome mat by the door and nice curtains in the windows gave it a homey feeling.

  The door opened and a short, dark-haired man holding a toddler ushered Meme in with a smile. Painted across the back chrome fender of the car in the driveway was Billy Chance - Detailer in hot pink lettering. Five minutes later the door opened again and Meme and the man came down the path.

  “Billy, this is my granddaughter, Alex. She’s helping out till Theresa’s foot is better.”

  “Hi.” Billy reached across the passenger seat and shook my hand giving me a shy smile and then helped Meme into the car. “Give Theresa my best. Have a good Christmas, Mrs. Redmond.” He nodded again at me and shut the door.

  When Meme buckled in I nodded in the direction of Billy’s car. “I wouldn’t put that shy young man together with that blazing sign.” I put my car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

  “A real wiseacre. A James Dean wannabe. Got in a bit of trouble but I knew his family and they raised him right. I offered to help a few years ago and he’s been paying every week without fail. Sometimes people just need someone to believe in them.”

  “Does the government know about you? They could use someone like you down at the welfare office.”

  “And sometimes people are killers,” Meme said solemnly, catching me off guard. “Someone killed Mrs. Scott and you need to find out who. And if it’s got nothing to do with the factory then we got a bigger problem on our hands.”

  I eyed my grandmother and realized this murder bothered Meme more than
she let on. Maybe it even scared her. “Who’s next on your list?” I asked, trying to put the murder out of Meme’s mind.

  “One more but the neighborhood ain’t so good. I’ll go during the day. Fred can take me.”

  I jammed on the brakes. A cough drop popped out of my mouth and hit the windshield. “Viagra Fred?”

  “You give him one of those pills and he really comes to life. He can look real mean when he has to.”

  I made a right at the next light and headed back to Indian Cove. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Dozens of mourners stood huddled around the casket. Bitterly cold, the falling snow added an eerily calm effect to the service. Large fir trees near the gravesite, their boughs laden with snow, gave partial shelter from a wind gradually growing fiercer.

  After picking up Mrs. Haddock, I joined Sam and our mother at the funeral home after which everyone went to the cemetery. The small chapel had been crowded to overflowing with mourners, most from Poupée, but some neighbors and friends Mrs. Scott had met over her years in the area.

  Detective Van der Burg stood in the background throughout the service. I avoided his gaze though I felt his eyes on me several times. Things were brewing between the two of us, and while exciting, I felt bad. A murder had taken place and, using the situation as a dating service didn’t sit well with me. Sometimes being a Catholic, even far removed, put such a burden on me. Guilt about everything lurked around every corner my entire life. But it also had benefits because deep down inside me lurked a bit of larceny. If not for the guilt and the fear of getting caught, I might have robbed a bank by now just to see if I could.

  I scanned the mourners surprised to see Emmanuelle Roberts, but to not attend would have seemed strange given the entire company had turned out. Joanne sat with Mitch and looked bored. Jerry Gagliano sat with several people from the factory. I stole a few glances at Dolly throughout the service but she looked as grief-stricken as her husband.