Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked (6 page)

“Leona, Nathan’s time is short.” Anne glanced at me and then at Nathan. “And so is Ellen’s. Why don’t you all go into the living room and get your group started? Ellen and I need to talk about houses.”

“Good idea.” Nathan immediately made sweeping gathering gestures, propelling the three women toward the living room.
B
lurting out personal histories to anyone but your counselor
evidently
wasn’t encouraged.

Gina took Marilee by the arm. “You okay, sweetie?”

Marilee tried a smile. It wasn’t very successful. “Yeah. I guess so.” She reached down and patted her tummy. Gina reached over and patted it also.

“You’re going to be fine, and so is this little one. Come on. Let’s go make sure Nathan earns his salary.”

Leona slowly followed them, a scowl on her face. Nathan picked up his files, rolled his eyes at Anne, and also disappeared into the living room.

I must have looked confused, because Anne started to explain. “Nathan is our counselor. He comes three afternoons a week, twice to do group counseling sessions, the other
time
for career counseling, which is a fancy way of saying we need to get them some kind of job that may eventually pay a living wage. We’ve established quite a list of
businesses
where we can place our women. They get training and a small salary. It’s a bit like an apprentice program. Then, as they get stronger emotionally and acquire life skills, they also have job skills. This is an open house, but we do have some rules, and group sessions are required.”

I looked at the battered oak desk jammed into the corner next to the sliding door. It held, barely, an antique computer and a printer made about the time of Ben Franklin. The keyboard sat on top with almost no room left to maneuver the mouse. I thought about the bookshelves in the living room that were overflowing with books, videos,
and
board games, and how the furniture was clustered tightly around the low table. Some of those books must be textbooks, but where did anyone go in this cramped house to study? Not in one of the
dormitory style bedrooms,
and there was no place else
in the house
that
was any better. “I see why you need more space. But, don’t they rotate or something? I mean, you must have a time limit on how long they can stay, don’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s flexible. Usually we say no more than one hundred twenty days, but sometimes that’s not enough, and sometimes they’re ready to move on sooner.
W
e always have more women in need than we can take. I wouldn’t have taken Janice
—
she really doesn’t fit our program
—
but she was an emergency. She’ll be gone tomorrow. The other three are fairly typical and we’re working on programs for them. Now, what have you brought me?”

I moved the rooster down to the end of the table and spread out the
papers
.
For the first time I was getting excited about this project. I might be pushed for time and in danger of running out of energy, but Grace House was a good idea, doing some really valuable work, and I want
ed
to be a part of it.

Anne needed to know how much money we would have to work with after all the costs of the sale had been deducted. I needed to know if she agreed with my suggested sales price. I put the graphs, showing comparable closed sales and similar homes currently offered for sale, in front of her. I had also prepared a net sheet, estimating the costs of the sale and what the final check to Grace House was likely to be. She barely glanced at any of it. “I’ll take this to the board, but I’m sure you’re right and that they’ll agree. Did you bring any information on houses that might work?”

Okay. So Anne wasn’t quite the businesswoman Aunt Mary thought she was. The board could handle that end of it. Anne’s energies seemed to be focused entirely on the women and what programs she wanted to offer. And why not?
That’s what she was there for. I handed her a stack of listings I thought might work. She immediately started to look through them.

I got up and wandered around the kitchen, making notes as I went. “Are you leaving the refrigerator?”

“If I can. That thing belongs on the Antiques Roadshow.”

I laughed and made another note on my sheet. “You talked about classrooms. For the women or for their children? The more you can tell me about what you do and how you set it up, the more time I can save by not dragging you out to look at things that won’t work.”

Anne stopped shuffling through the pile of listings and nodded. “I want to start a daycare in the new house. I’ll need room for it, away from the living area of the residents. It would be a real win/win. Some of our women could work toward being licensed preschool employees, and the children of our residents would have a safe place to stay while their mothers work or go to school. We also need an area where the women can study or get on the computer. In addition to working, they’re encouraged to enroll in classes that will help them, and we often have older children who need a place where they can do their homework. It doesn’t have to be big, but we need a quiet area
,
separate from the living room.”

“What a great idea,” I said. “And the daycare sounds wonderful. Then someone like Marilee would have a place to leave her baby.” Marilee had captured my imagination. Where were her parents? Where was the father of her baby?
“Will she be staying long?”
I asked.

Anne’s face sort of closed up and she looked down at the sheets she had spread out all over the table. “She’ll stay here for a
while. As you heard, she wants to keep her baby. We’ll do everything we can to help her do that.”

“She seems so young.” About Susannah’s age.

“Yes. Look at this one. It comes closest. But I’d like more bedrooms and maybe a dining room.”
It was clear there would be no more discussion about the residents.

The house she had picked out was charming, or could be. It was in the old part of town, convenient to everything, but it needed work. Thousands of dollars of work. I told her so. Anne put it face down on the rest of them and sighed. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

I gathered up the pile of rejected listings, slipped all of the information she would need to take to the board in a folder, handed it to her, and prepared to leave. “I have a much better idea of what you need. I’ll call you tomorrow with what else I’ve found.”

She nodded and started to get to her feet.

I hesitated. I wanted to ask one more question but wasn’t sure how to phrase it tactfully. Maybe there wasn’t a way.

“What does Doctor Sadler have to do with you? I mean, his wife founded Grace House. Does he have
a
say about what we buy, or how we price this place?”

“He’s on the board, if that’s what you mean, and is a major financial contributor.” It took Anne a minute. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times and cleared her throat before going on. “Do you know Doctor Sadler?”

“Not really. I know who he is, of course. I remember he was in Rotary with my father.
My mother didn’t like him.”

Anne smiled at that. “A lot of women in this town don’t like him. He’s bossy. So he’ll probably try to tell us all what to do, explain why we’re so misguided, and refuse to listen to any opinion but his own. But Owen has only one vote, even if he’d like you to believe he runs the whole thing. The rest of the board is much easier to deal with.”

“Even though his wife started Grace House?”

“Francis was a smart woman. I think she loved Owen, but she wasn’t under any illusions. She wanted Grace House to work.”

Wasn’t that interesting
?
But it didn’t entirely erase my concern that Doctor Sadler wouldn’t try to sabotage any transaction the board decided to make if he didn’t agree with it. I would have to count on Anne to make sure that didn’t happen. No, actually I wouldn’t. My Aunt Mary was on that board. I had nothing to worry about.

I said goodbye, thinking I had my work cut out for me on this one
,
and had turned to leave when the garage door groaned and
started
up
.

Anne’s head snapped around, and her body stiffened. “That’s Margaret. She never uses the garage. Why is she coming in the garage? Something’s wrong.”

A
car pulled in. The garage door sounded a protest and started down again before the engine shut off. Anne was at the kitchen door, pulling it open as a woman came through, a small girl in her arms. The child’s legs were wound around her mother’s waist, pushing down her gray sweatpants. Her arms were tight around her mother’s neck, her head buried in her shoulders. A boy, about five, clung to her free arm, his eyes huge and scared.

“What happened?” Anne’s tone was grim. She took the boy’s free arm and pulled them all into the kitchen. “Where’s Margaret?”

A brisk
looking woman of about fifty came into the room. Her hands shook as she slipped a set of car keys into a huge purse. “I’m right here. He saw us.”

“Damn!” The expletive almost exploded out of Anne’s mouth. “What happened?”

“Someone from the doctor’s office must have tipped him off.”

This
had to
be Janice. But who had seen them, and why did that make her
g
o pale and
give her voice a
tremor?

“Emily, get down. Ian, let go. We’re fine now.” She tried unsuccessfully to detach the little girl from her hip. Her sweatpants slid down a little f
a
rther, revealing a pair of bright blue underpants. She flushed, shifted the child, and pulled her sweats back up. The boy just moved his grip from her hand to her arm.

“He was waiting for us when we came out.” Margaret tried hard to act calm
and
controlled, but
her
voice
trembled
and the look on her face was a combination of fury and fear. She put her purse down on the counter and went to the refrigerator. “Ian, how about some juice? The doctor said you needed lots of fluids. Look, orange juice.” She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it.
“Come on, let’s sit here at the counter. Mommy will sit right beside you.”

Ian detached himself from his mother
,
climbed up on one of the stools
, and
started to devour the cookies Margaret had put beside the juice. Janice sat down beside him, still holding the little girl, offering her a cookie and a sip from the second glass Margaret set in front of them. Her hand shook so badly the juice spilled onto the counter.

During all of this
Anne waited, anxiety showing through
the veneer of
her patience. Margaret put the juice carton back into the refrigerator and walked around the counter toward the table. Anne followed.
So did I. Margaret raised one eyebrow. Anne glanced
my way
as if
about
to ask me to leave. She didn’t. “Did he follow you?”

“He sure tried,” Margaret said grimly. A grin broke over her face but immediately faded. “He was no match for Nascar Margaret
,
though. I saw him about the same time he saw us and managed to leave him behind at that long light on Main and Chestnut. I thought he was going to run it
. M
aybe he did, but he hesitated too long. I made a couple of quick turns and lost him.”

“Are you sure?”

Margaret’s grim look was back. “No.”

Neither said anything for a moment. “Okay.” Anne looked at Janice
,
who still clutched the little girl tightly. “Janice, what will he do now? I mean, he saw you. He knows you’re someplace close. What will he do?”

“Try and find us.” She looked down at the child on her lap and stroked her hair. “That’s why I asked Margaret to park the car in the garage. He’ll remember it. He’ll be driving around right now, trying to locate it.”

Driving around? Trying to find them? Could she mean
… I’d read Anna Quinlan’s
Black and Blue
. I’d seen
The Burning Bed
on TV. Could this be
… surely not.

Anne thought for a moment, her mouth set in a grim line. “I think our timetable just got moved up. It’s time to get you out of here. Margaret, can you help them pack?” She turned to me. “Ellen, would you go tell Nathan I need him? Now. I’m going to make a couple of phone calls.”

Janice had been watching us with hooded eyes. “We can’t take Margaret’s car.”

“I know.” Anne already had the phone and was dialing. “Go get ready to leave.”

Janice slid off the stool, shifted the child to her hip, handed her the one remaining cookie, helped the boy off the stool, and started for the hallway that led to the bedrooms. No one said a word, not even the children. Margaret looked at Anne, shook her head, sighed, and hurried after them. I watched them go. The sense of danger, impending danger, was heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Or maybe that was fear. Those books, the movie, were just stories, horrible
…
but stories. This was real, and I was having a hard time believing it. After all, this was just some guy looking for his wife and kids. How dangerous could that be?

Anne was already talking to someone, so I started for the living room. I met Nathan head on.

“What’s happened?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “At least I don’t understand. Janice’s husband saw her and the kids at the doctor’s and evidently tried to follow them
. N
ow everyone
is
panicking.”

“Oh, Lord.” Nathan’s good-natured grin faded. “Where’s Anne?”

“In the kitchen making phone calls. What’s going on?”

He stopped, opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. “You might have to help, so you’d better understand.”

“Understand what?” I really wished he wouldn’t look so grim. I was trying to convince myself that whatever was going on wasn’t serious, or dangerous, and he wasn’t helping.

“We take women who need help to get to the next stage of their lives, but we’re not equipped for women who need protection. Only sometimes
… W
ell, we took Janice and her kids because if we didn’t, something really ugly might have happened. Janice’s husband has threatened to kill her and
,
given his track record, it seemed a good idea to pay attention. If he’s seen her, or has any idea of where she is, then we have to get her out of here. San Luis Obispo will just have to make room.”

He turned to go into the kitchen, leaving me speechless. All of this was real. I followed, wondering with growing unease what was going to happen next, and how I could possibly help. It didn’t take long to find out.

Anne was on the phone, talking in low, urgent tones. “Yes, we need to get them moved today. Nathan will have them. Where can he meet you?” She looked up as I came in. “Ellen, can you hand me a pad of paper? And a pen? They’re right
…
thanks. Okay. Where? Got it. What time? No. They can’t leave right now. I have to find out where he is and make sure
… yes, I’ll call you. No more than thirty minutes. Okay. Thanks.”

She hung up and turned to Nathan. “Can you do it?”

“Of course. I don’t think he knows my car
. B
ut how are we going to get them in it? I’m parked on the street, and if he’s driving around, looking, we can’t chance taking them out the front. And since he saw Margaret’s car
…
we better leave it in the garage
unless
we
’re sure
he’s not around.”

“How
can you be sure
?” Anne ran fingers through her hair. It was starting to look as if this wasn’t the first time.

The tension was building, but I didn’t want to believe that this woman, Janice, was truly in danger
.
“So what if he does see them
?
He can’t do anything, can he?
Not with everyone here. I mean, just tell him to go away.”

Nathan looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

Anne said, “If only it worked that way. This man has threatened to kill Janice. He came close to doing it last year. She stayed because she was afraid to leave, afraid for herself and for the kids. But a couple of days ago, she walked in on him with the little girl. He was
…
he had her
…
It’s a good thing she found them when she did. The next day, when he was out of the house, she called us.” She paused, as if trying to emphasize what she was going to say next. “The most dangerous time for an abused woman and her kids is when she’s trying to leave. More women are killed then than any other time in these rotten relationships. Janice knows that. But when she saw how close her daughter came to
…
when she realized what he was going to do to her, and that he’d try again, somehow the courage was there. She’s still just one step away from not being able to function, but she’s gotten this far.”

“We don’t normally take women like Janice, but this time we had to.” Nathan’s voice was grim, his expression angry and worried. “If he finds her before she gets a chance to get a restraining order and at least temporary custody of the kids, it’s entirely possible he could take them away from her. And if that happens, she’ll go back also. I don’t think I have to tell you what might happen then. So, we need to get them down to San Luis Obispo. They’re making room.”

I felt a little sick. And I thought I’d had it bad. Brian was nothing like this man. A cheater, yes.
Verbal abuse, he was an expert. But he’d never hit me or made me fear for my life. And he’d never touched Susannah. If he had
…

“How about a traffic stop? By the cops.”

Nathan and Anne looked at each other, and then they both stared at me. “A traffic stop would be perfect. That way we’d know where he was.” Nathan exchanged another look with Anne. “I could make sure we went another way, only
…
how can we do that?”

“I have an idea.” Janice and her children were going to get to San Luis Obispo. Safely.
“It happens that I know the police chief.” I grinned, and suddenly Anne looked hopeful. “Which means I know some of the staff.
I could give Ida a call and see if something could be arranged.”

“Who’s Ida?” Nathan asked.

“The dispatcher. She’s great, and she adores Dan.”

Anne gave a short laugh. “Let’s hope she adores you also. You’re willing to try this?”

“Sure.” I gulped, wondering just how much I was overstepping my boundaries
.
I didn’t care. The vision of th
e
child clinging to her mother, the spilled orange juice as th
e
woman tried to hold the glass steady, the look in the eyes of those children, the smell of real fear, overwhelmed any reservations I had. Ida was getting a phone call.