Crowned and Moldering (26 page)

Lizzie peeked over my shoulder. “I can’t tell you how much I regret buying her that
stupid phone, but what can you do?” She sighed. “She’s still a good girl, but the
hormones are starting to kick in. I expect her to turn into a monster any day now.”

“You’ve been saying that for two years,” I said, laughing. “But she’s still very sweet.”

“Thirteen going on twenty-five,” Hal said, joining the conversation. “Come on, we’ve
got a booth over here.”

As we crossed the restaurant, Lizzie said, “I want to hear all about Lily and Sean
and Mac and everything that’s been happening with you. I feel like we haven’t talked
in weeks.” She frowned. “Even though I just saw you the other day for fifteen measly
minutes.”

“And we were with the whole gang at the tea shop and it’s hard to get a word in edgewise
sometimes.”

“True.” We sat at a big round booth by a south-facing window, and from there we could
see the entire coastline. The day was clear and sunny with a brisk offshore breeze.

We all ordered coffee or hot chocolate and juice. When the waitress rushed off to
get our beverages, Lizzie pounced. “Now tell me everything that’s going on. I don’t
get out much.”

Hal shot me a grin. “That’s why I bought the police scanner, babe. So we can keep
up with the latest.”

I had to laugh.

Hal quickly added, “Sorry about Wednesday morning, by the way. Sometimes they tend
to jump the gun.”

“No worries,” I said. “Although it freaked me out a little.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he admitted.

I turned to Lizzie, who was sitting next to me. “You’re going to be very pleased with
me.”

“I am anyway, but why? What happened?”

“I played matchmaker the other day.”

She gasped and clutched her hands to her chest. “I’m so proud.”

With a laugh, I said, “You should be. I think I did a pretty good job.”

“Tell me all,” she said, bouncing in her seat. “Who, what, when, where, how.”

“Sean,” I said.

“Oh, excellent.”

I proceeded to tell her about the drama teacher who needed a carpenter and so on,
and so on.

“I’m so excited for him. And for you. I hope it works out.” She took a quick sip of
orange juice. “And if it does, I never want to hear any grief from you again.”

Yikes. Seeing the determination in her eyes, I wondered if maybe I should’ve kept
my accomplishment to myself. I sipped my coffee and changed the subject. “So, have
you heard from Emily?”

“I left her two messages and finally had to hunt her down at the tea shop. At first
she denied everything, but I hounded her.”

“That’s my girl,” Hal murmured.

Lizzie grinned. “And guess what. She told me that the day we were all having lunch
at the tea shop? That’s the first time Gus ever made a move.”

“I kind of thought so at the time,” I said. “But, wow. Things looked pretty hot and . . .
hmm.” I glanced at the kids and tried to find a subtle way to say what I was thinking.
“They looked like they might’ve been together before.”

“I know,” Lizzie murmured. “But she insisted they hadn’t.”

I thought about it and finally admitted, “I’m worried about her.”

“Why? She looks so happy.”

“I don’t want him to hurt her.”

Lizzie frowned. “Gus is a lot younger than her. And he does have a reputation with
the ladies.”

Marisa snickered. “You mean he’s a horn dog.”

Lizzie scowled. “Marisa!”

Her daughter shrugged, and Taz giggled. It was Lizzie’s turn to roll her eyes.

“You know I think Gus is wonderful,” I said. “But Emily is sort of fragile, don’t
you think?”

“She looks fragile,” Hal said, “but she’s probably a lot stronger than you give her
credit for.”

“I hope so.”

“OMG, Mom!” Marisa cried, then whispered dramatically, “It’s MacIntyre Sullivan!”

I turned in time to see Mac and Callie walk inside and glance around. Mac waved when
he saw us and said something to Callie. Her eyes lit up and she rushed over to the
booth, while he stayed up front and spoke to the hostess.

“Hi, Shannon!” she said. “What’re you doing here?” Then she gazed around the table
at the Logan family and flashed them all a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Callie, Mac’s
niece.”

“Callie,” I said, “these are my friends Lizzie and Hal and Taz and Marisa.”

There was a buzz of greetings back and forth until Mac finally joined Callie and more
cheeriness was exchanged. Marisa was strangely silent and seemed in awe of the older
girl.

“We’ve got a table right over here,” Mac said to Callie.

“Okay. It was really nice meeting you all.” Callie smiled at everyone and then homed
in on Lizzie’s daughter. “Marisa, I love your bike shirt. If you want, maybe after
breakfast we can talk some more.”

Marisa’s eyes widened and her head bobbed in agreement. “Okay, yeah.”

“Cool,” Callie said, and walked away with her uncle.

Lizzie’s eyes were bright with unshed tears as she turned toward me. “That was so
sweet of her. She is remarkable.”

“She really is,” I said, glancing fondly at Callie’s back.

*   *   *

Late that afternoon, I was exhausted but happy after all of the riding and laughing
and eating. I sat on the couch, watching an old movie with Tiger and Robbie, and started
to doze off. A loud knocking on the back door startled me awake.

I hurried into the kitchen and saw through the window that it was Mac, and I opened
the door with a smile. “Hi, what’s up?”

But he wasn’t smiling. “Hey, Irish.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Callie? Come in.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the
kitchen. “Talk to me.”

“It’s Cliff Hogarth,” he said somberly, taking my hand in his. “Somebody walked into
his hospital room an hour ago and killed him.”

My phone rang before I could say a word and I ran to answer it. Mac followed me.

I stared at him, stunned, as I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“You’ll never guess,” Lizzie said.

“Yes, I will,” I said, feeling numb. “Cliff Hogarth is dead.”

*   *   *

I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think I would ever be warm again despite the extra blanket
I’d thrown over me and the socks I wore and the long knitted scarf wrapped around
my neck. My cat was cuddled up beside me and Robbie slept at the foot of the bed,
and I was still shivering. I couldn’t help it, after hearing the details of Cliff’s
death.

Earlier that night, after we got the ugly news, Mac and Callie had stayed for dinner.
None of us wanted to be alone, so I had thrown together meat loaf, mashed potatoes,
and a veggie casserole. I didn’t mind that the meal was constantly interrupted by
phone calls from Lizzie and Hal, who wanted to share the latest police-scanner buzz
and theories and gossip.

Finally, Mac called Eric directly. The chief grudgingly confided certain details Lizzie
and Hal hadn’t heard over the police scanner.

“Someone took advantage of a quiet Sunday night at the hospital,” Mac said, after
he hung up from talking to Eric. “They had a bare-bones staff on duty, and I guess
it was easy for the killer to slip unnoticed into Cliff’s room.”

“What did they do?”

Mac took a quick bite of mashed potatoes before answering. “The investigators think
the guy tampered with his IV tubing.”

“You mean they disconnected it?”

“No, they injected another substance into it.”

I grimaced. “Do they know what it was?”

“They’re not willing to say until they run more tests, but I’m pretty sure they’ll
find some type of liquid rat poison or cyanide.”

I cringed at the word
cyanide
. It sounded like something out of the Cold War. “Where would anyone ever find cyanide?”

He shrugged. “Rat poison. Pretty common to find some brands that contain cyanide.”

“So why do you think it’s cyanide?”

“I recognize the symptoms.”

“Of cyanide poisoning?” But of course Mac would know the symptoms. He was always researching
new and exciting ways to kill people.

“Yeah,” he said. “The nurse thought Hogarth was suffocating, so she tried to clear
his air passage. But it was no use. His entire body was shutting down, one system
at a time. He was dead within minutes.”

*   *   *

By Monday morning, the news of Cliff Hogarth’s murder was on everyone’s mind. The
entire town seemed to be holding its collective breath, worried sick that someone
else might die. I was pretty sure the killer had specifically targeted Cliff and didn’t
plan to go on a killing spree, but after tossing and turning all night, I wasn’t feeling
strong enough to bet money on it.

I had hated Cliff Hogarth and I’d wanted him to go away, but I couldn’t ever wish
such a horrible death on him. And to have it occur in a hospital? A place where people
were meant to feel safe? It was doubly upsetting.

Mac, of course, was thriving on all the grisly news. I forgave him his buoyant joy,
though, because he’d never met Cliff or any of the other players, for that matter.
And I had a feeling he just might win a Pulitzer for the article he was writing, given
all the macabre details he’d been able to gather from this gruesome case.

Eric’s reaction was the complete opposite of Mac’s, naturally. He was frustrated and
angry that another person had been killed on what he considered his watch. He redoubled
his team’s efforts to scour the evidence and find a connection between Lily Brogan’s
death fifteen years ago and Cliff Hogarth’s murder yesterday.

Work always helped change my mood, so I attacked it with gusto. I was digging up the
last remnants of asphalt around the edges of the old parking lot when Ms. Barney arrived
at school. She greeted everyone on the crew and then pulled me aside to talk.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I nodded, then admitted, “I’m a little shaken up.”

“I thought you might be,” Ms. Barney said, and that was when I remembered that she
had been subjected to Cliff’s innuendos when she hired me for the parking-lot job.

“I guess it’s natural that everyone is looking over their shoulders,” I said. “But
I’m pretty sure Cliff was the only target. He made a lot of enemies in a very short
time.”

She sighed. “I know you weren’t friends with him, but the news was still so shocking.”

As I walked with her across campus, we shared what little we each knew about Cliff’s
death. She had heard the same basic story that Eric had told Mac. Apparently Cliff’s
killer had taken advantage of a slow afternoon at the hospital with not many staff
members on duty. Later that night, someone had reported a pair of scrubs missing from
the locker room in a size that would fit a normal-sized male, whatever that meant.
There were no actual suspects so far, but having been on the receiving end of Cliff
Hogarth’s vitriol, I figured there were probably plenty of folks who were
not
mourning his loss.

All the anxiety over Cliff’s death had made me forget about Lily for the moment. But
now I was unsettled all over again by the fact that Mr. Jones and Lily might’ve been
a couple all those years ago. Unfortunately, I couldn’t share that news with Ms. Barney,
because so far it was just a supposition I’d deduced from reading Lily’s notebook.

Once Ms. Barney and I had exhausted the subject of Cliff’s death, we kept our chitchat
light, talking about what we’d done over the weekend and about school and the town
and this and that. She insisted again that she planned to add more solar canopies
around the campus, and I assured her once again that I would love to get the job.

“I hope we can make that happen,” she said as we approached her office.

“Good morning, Ms. Barney.”

We both glanced up and saw one of the school secretaries standing by the door to the
principal’s office.

“Hello, Helen,” Ms. Barney said.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Helen said, “but you have a phone call.”

“Who is it, Helen?”

The secretary was about to speak when the double doors at the far end of the hall
were flung open and Eric, Tommy, and a small phalanx of cops came marching into the
school.

Eric walked straight up to Ms. Barney and spoke in a low voice. “I’ve got a warrant
for the arrest of one of your teachers. I’d appreciate if you would call him out into
the hall and leave the students inside the room while we speak to him.”

Her face turned white, and I was afraid mine matched hers.

“Are you sure this is necessary while school is in session?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

She walked him a few yards down the hall, away from the group of secretaries, who
were watching everything from her doorway. “Who do you want to see?”

Eric lowered his voice. “Bradford Jones.”

Someone screamed behind us. We all turned and saw Helen, who had been following closely
behind Ms. Barney. She quickly whipped around and raced back into the office.

And I knew the news would move faster than a bullet train around town.

“Eric, why?” I asked.

He pulled me to the side of the hall, where his men wouldn’t hear me freaking out.
I understood that Mr. Jones and Lily had had an affair, but standing here in the light
of day, with Eric about to arrest him, I just couldn’t believe that the teacher I
admired and thought I knew so well could be a killer. “It’s impossible.”

Eric’s jaw twitched. “You don’t know that.”

“But I know him. And I refuse to believe he killed Lily.”

Ms. Barney approached us, looking very worried. She pointed down the hall. “He’s in
room 124.”

Eric nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

I grabbed his arm. “Please, Eric. Don’t do this. He’s not guilty. He can’t be. He
loved her.”

He looked down at me and frowned. “Shannon, the evidence is overwhelming.”

“What evidence? An old notebook? All that proved was that Lily had a crush on him,
just like every other girl in school. But even if they had been together, it doesn’t
mean he killed her. Don’t tell me you found his bloody fingerprints somewhere.”