Bernadine Fagan - Nora Lassiter 01 - Murder by the Old Maine Stream (20 page)

“That sounds worse than cutting off his body parts.”

This was the Mary Fran I remembered, the violent Mary Fran of my childhood.

“Don’t,” I cautioned. “You’d never get the money and that’s the best revenge. Hang in there. Go back to work and let me do my job. I’ll bring you the pictures.”

* * *

I wondered about the possibility of ticks as I hid in the woods alongside Kendall’s driveway, waiting for Marla the slut to make an appearance. A person could get a disease being in these woods. Bugs could crawl up a person’s leg. You had to be careful. I swatted at a swarm of gnats and hunkered down. I checked my watch. It was almost three. Marla was late. Naughty Marla.

I waved my hand to disperse the cloud of gnats, but they continued to swarm back. I think they liked the spot I was occupying. Maybe it was their spot and I was the intruder.

Low-hanging, dark clouds had replaced the beautiful morning weather. If it got any darker the pictures might not come out well at this distance, but moving closer would be risky. I had my big camera this time, the one with the new high-powered lens that cost more than the camera. I tested it. Took a few shots of the house. Okey-doke. Not too dark yet. I turned off the automatic flash. Couldn’t have that lighting up.

The gnats were a nuisance. I waved my hand through the swarm again. They disappeared, but were back seconds later circling my head.

I wore a huge old green and brown mottled army fatigue shirt that I’d found in the closet, so I blended in nicely with my surroundings. Ten minutes later I heard the front door bang and I looked through the lens. Percy stormed out wearing … what on earth? It looked like an old-fashioned, little-boy outfit with short pants, a bow tie, knee socks. Geez.

The whole getup made me want to yell, Where’s your pinwheel hat? Oh, I needed a shot of this. I waved the gnats away, and snapped a few shots.

Percy paraded to the end of the driveway and scanned the road. The impatient lover? A guy’s got to be pretty brave to come out of the house looking like that. It didn’t take imagination to figure out what sex game was slated for today. I couldn’t help wondering whether he played these games with Mary Fran, too.

Percy stomped back, stopped directly opposite me, and placed a call on his cell. Great spot. Perfect.

“Where are you?” he demanded.

A pause.

One of his socks slipped down when he stamped his foot.

I wished he were on a speaker phone so I could hear her side of the conversation. Percy turned away and I missed what he said. I crawled closer. More gnats.

“You’ve never been late. You playing games?” Percy hollered.

If he’d continue to talk this loud, I’d hear just fine.

But, no. I missed the next thing he said and was forced to inch closer. Then it happened.

Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod! A gnat flew up my nose.

I leaned forward, exhaled sharply with my mouth closed. No good. Still there. Damn gnat. I sat down and stuck my finger in my nose, probing. Had it gone to my lungs? Where were all the cilia I learned about in biology class? They were supposed to prevent this sort of thing. I blew my nose into the sleeve of the shirt.

“Yes, I saw you at the funeral, sitting with those—” Percy turned away and I didn’t catch the rest of what he said. Did he mean when he nodded toward the women? Was one of them Marla? But Amy, Vivian, Margaret and Aunt Ellie were together. Not a Marla in the bunch.

The gnat was still in place and his buddies were swarming around looking for him.

“Since when does the likes of you hang around with—” He turned again and I missed the name.

Percy listened, his face reddening.

Sticking my head in my blouse to muffle the sound, I blew my nose again.

“You can keep your fucking buyers’ list.” he yelled. “I don’t intend to meet those guys. I told you that. I’m not getting involved in this shit. I’ve done enough. Look at Collins.”

Look at Collins
?

Was that Percy’s involvement? Murdering his partner?

My mouth dropped open and my hands began to shake. These two were definitely involved in something that Collins had been shot over.

The buyer’s list? Was that the list I’d seen in his office?

I inched closer, exhaling sharply through my nose.

“Is this why you came on to me? Through Al to me?” Percy demanded, pacing like an angry bull.

I missed the next thing he said.

The gnat seemed to have shifted. It was still in there. I made snorting sounds into my camera bag to muffle the sound. My lungs demanded air, and I inhaled reflexively. The gnat zipped through the canals and caught in my throat

“Yaaah.” Disgusting. I spit it out. “Te-eew, te-eew, eeuck.” I wiped my tongue on my sleeve.

Percy stopped suddenly, facing me. I flattened myself on the ground, lying in twigs and leaves and heaven only knows what else. I am not a woods’ person, and that’s an absolute. I shivered just thinking about the creatures that were probably crawling over me. The gnat had been bad enough.

“Who’s there?” Percy bellowed in my direction. He slipped his phone into his pocket, and I put my head to the ground, trembling beneath the leafy underbrush, hoping his eyesight was poor, hoping I was well hidden, hoping I would miraculously think of some way to escape if he came looking.

Small branches crackled and popped as Percy stepped into the underbrush. I had a flash of Collins with a bullet hole in his head, and wondered whether Percy had a gun. I had to make a run for it.

I jumped up, scraped my cheek on a branch and felt my shirt rip. The need for self-preservation propelled me forward. I bounded like a deer, hopping over dead trees, shoving branches aside, stepping into who-knows-what.

Coming to Maine was a big mistake.

Behind me, I heard Percy crashing through brush, hot on my trail. He was a big man. I didn’t take the time to look back, even when I heard a really big crash.

I think he fell.

I hoped he fell.

TWENTY

By the time I pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office, I had finger-combed most of the forest debris from my hair, plastered tissue to the scrape on my cheek, and brushed something suspicious, maybe moose caca, off these ridiculous camouflage pants. I didn’t care about my appearance, a first for me, not counting the Dumpster episode, of course. The other first, almost being attacked by a killer, overshadowed everything. I have my priorities.

“Where’s Nick?” I asked deputy Miller as I approached the big desk.

To his credit he didn’t comment on my appearance. I suppose he was getting used to it. Last night chocolate mousse, this afternoon forest debris. And I used to be so careful. I didn’t like what was happening to me. I had to get back to the old me. The neat me. The fashion-conscious, New York City me.

“What the hell happened? Who did this?” Nick demanded as he strode from his office, his expression stony as he studied my face. “You’re bleeding.”

He took my arm and led me toward his office. Over his shoulder he ordered, “Miller, earthquakes or murders only.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I was in the woods by Kendall’s,” I told him as soon as he closed the door.

“And?” he asked tightly.

“Percy was supposed to meet Marla and I was on hand with my camera.”

“Percy did this?”

“No. I was hiding. Then a gnat flew up my nose and I tried to dislodge it and Percy heard me, so I ran. He didn’t see who I was. I’m almost sure of that.”

“Damnit all, Nora.”

He went into a small lavatory and came out with a damp cloth, some Band-Aids and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “Sit up here.” He patted the edge of his desk. With a gentleness that almost made me cry, he removed the tissue that was stuck to the dried blood. As I sat there inhaling the spicy scent of his aftershave, he wiped my face.

“It’s not too bad,” he said as he cleansed it. He kissed my forehead. “Anything else?”

I lifted my shirt and he dabbed at the scratches on my midriff.

“Do I have to lock you up to keep you from getting yourself killed?”

“He knows something about the Collins murder,” I said.

Nick stood back and stared at me. “And you know this how?”

I recounted Percy’s side of the phone conversation.

Nick repeated my words slowly, as if he were weighing every one. “I’m not getting involved in this shit. I’ve done enough. Look at Collins.”

“I think he killed Collins,” I said.

“This Marla’s into more than sex. I wonder who she is. Don’t know anyone by that name around here.” He paused, then said, “So Collins was involved in something that got him killed, and now Marla wants Percy involved in the same thing. She’s the link between the two.”

“You’re going to check Percy out, right?”

“It might surprise you to learn I’m already doing that. After all, he was Al’s partner.”

I nodded my approval.

“Marla’s one of the women who sat with Aunt Ellie at the funeral.” I told him about Percy’s nod to one of the women.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Sure. What do I know? I’m telling you he made contact with a nod. But don’t listen.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t prove a thing. He could have been saying hello. Nora, you jump to conclusions.”

“Like Aunt Ida?” I asked, a superior edge to my voice.

“There was that carpet-in-the-creek episode,” he said, almost to himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s why I wasn’t so quick to pay attention to your aunt’s claim about a coming murder.” He paused and gave a deep sigh. “I know it’s no excuse, but it is a reason. A while back she called me, hysterical about a body rolled in a carpet that was tossed into the creek. I wasted hours hunting for it. Tied up half my force. Turned out to be a section of carpet old man Gardener was throwing away. The body inside was a rusty pole lamp.”

I wanted to defend my aunt, but was hard pressed to think of much. She watched a lot of crime shows.

Finally, I said, “She was being a good citizen. The trouble with the world today is that most people don’t want to get involved. They want to look the other way, mind their own business. Aunt Ida isn’t like that, to her credit.”

“Yes, there is that.”

“Getting back to Percy’s lady friend … Are any of those four women on the library list I retrieved?”

He went through some papers on his desk, and pulled out the library list. “All of them,” he said, “except Margaret the librarian, but we know she was at the library.”

“See.” I hopped down from the desk.

“See what? None are named Marla.”

“I know. Maybe it’s a sex thing.”

“Come again?” he said, his brows lifting a notch.

Nick smiled at me. I loved the way he smiled.

“Maybe it was a name in a story they were acting out. Who knows? They play games. I think it was part of the game.”

“Games? You never mentioned games.”

“I guess I left that part out.” I gave a casual shrug. “Percy wore Gestapo boots, I think. Talked with a German accent. He carried a riding crop. At least I think it was a riding crop. He said that she was very naughty for coming late. His exact words were, ‘When I hired you as my maid I warned you not to be late, didn’t I?’”

“You remember the exact words?” Grinning, Nick shook his head.

I smirked in reply, then asked, “You ever do stuff like that?”

“No.”

I laughed. “Glad to hear it.”

He said, “I’m not much for playing games of any kind.”

I wasn’t about to comment on that. “I’ll find out who Marla is,” I said with great enthusiasm. “You concentrate on finding the killer.”

He looked around the room, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. Slowly, the frown lines eased, and were replaced by an expression of sudden awareness.

“Yes, this is my office. There’s my hat, my computer, my jacket, the dead plant my mother gave me.” He turned to me. “Ay-uh. My office. I know without looking that the sign on the door says Sheriff, Nicholas Renzo, which is another way of saying Head Honcho, Chief, or Guy In Charge. Take your pick. Now, Ms. Nora Lassiter, which one of those titles don’t you understand?”

“I think you missed something.”

“Did I?”

“Yes. The subheading that says Mulish: Unwilling to Utilize Skills of Helpful Lady.”

“That’s because duty compels me to protect the Helpful Lady.”

He was right, of course, yet I pressed. “Duty? Is that what motivates you to protect me?”

As soon as the words were out of my big mouth, I wanted to snatch them back. What was wrong with me?

“Let’s not go there,” he said immediately, gathering his first aid supplies and carrying them back to the lavatory.

“You’re right.”

Nick Renzo was forbidden territory. That was part of his allure, I suppose. We are all drawn to those things we cannot, or should not, have.