School's Out for Murder (Schooled in Murder Book 2) (14 page)

Emily stopped and read over what she'd just written. Was her jealousy of Maclaine's interactions with Tad coloring her own personal judgment? Maybe. Maybe not. But really, none of the suspects seemed to completely fit the bill. Frustrated, she tossed her journal aside and snapped off her light, hoping a good night's sleep would help with her clarity. But after twenty minutes of restless tossing and turning, she turned the light back on. The hamster on her mind's wheel wasn't ready for rest.

She turned on the television in hopes late-night TV might at least distract the hamster for a while. After clicking through the channels several times, she settled on an old rerun of the movie
Clue
. As Wadsworth revealed the crimes each character had committed, Emily wondered if multiple parties were responsible for the mayor's murder, the fire at Susanna's, and the attack on Amelia. But unless the perpetrators were in cahoots with each other, that theory didn't seem to fit either. Now the hamster was back on its wheel, running in endless circles. As she tried desperately to fall asleep, the creaking wheel in her mind started playing one refrain over and over: Who killed the mayor with the revolver at the carnival?

Emily was sure she had no more than closed her eyes before someone began pounding on her front door. Grabbing her new phone in one hand, and her gun from her bedside table drawer in the other, she made her way slowly into the living room. The living room blinds were drawn, so she had no way to peek outside without actually walking up to the door. Pounding sounded again, as well as the peal of the doorbell. "Who's there?" Emily shouted. Her voice was raspy from both sleep and fear.

"It's Gabby! Open up!" Emily's shoulders dropped from where they had been perched around her ears, as she bounded over to the front door to flip the dead bolt.

"What're you doing here in the middle of the night? What's the emergency? Is it the girls? Greg? Are you hurt?"

Gabby grabbed her gently by the arms and steered her in the direction of the couch, closing the front door behind them. Instead of answering, she asked, "Have trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah," Emily yawned and placed her gun and phone on the coffee table. "I'd just fallen asleep."

"Okay," Gabby began, using her staving off a temper tantrum voice, "first of all, it's 7:00 in the morning. Two, do you always answer the door packing heat, or am I just lucky? And three, why didn't you tell me you got a new phone? Then I could've called you instead of driving over here."

Emily blinked, focusing on the most confusing of Gabby's questions. "It's morning already? I hate mornings. But I guess there's no emergency?" With an oomph, she pushed herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen to forage for some breakfast. Finding nothing but an overripe banana in the fruit bowl, and a deplorable lack of cereal, she grabbed a box of Chips Ahoy! and slumped down in the breakfast nook. When Gabby joined her, she held out the cookie box.

"Really? For breakfast?" Gabby raised an eyebrow.

"Your loss. More for me," Emily shrugged, shoveling in another bite of chocolaty goodness as she snatched the box back.

"I didn't say I didn't want one," Gabby protested, snagging a cookie. "But I've already had breakfast with Greg and the twins."

"It's official. I can never have kids. That is unless they agree to sleep in at least three days a week," Emily decided, ignoring Gabby's snort of laughter. "And to return to your probing questions. No, I only answer the door 'packing heat,' as you so weirdly put it, which makes you sound like some low-level gangster by the way, when I think someone's arriving in the middle of the night, right after one of our friends has been brutally assaulted in her place of work, and as to—"

"That's why I'm here," Gabby interrupted, bouncing in her seat. "I called the hospital first thing this morning, and they've upgraded Amelia's condition to stable. I thought you'd want to go see her with me!"

"That's great!" Emily said, popping up and hurrying to her bedroom, her lack of sleep all but forgotten in light of this good news. "I'll be ready in ten minutes." Gabby just laughed and reached for the cookie box.

*   *   *

"Twenty minutes," Gabby noted the time as they pulled out of Emily's driveway. "I'm impressed."

"Give me a break," Emily told her. "We don't all roll out of bed looking like beauty queens, ya know?" She thought she'd done remarkably well on time, managing to shower, blow dry her hair, slap on some makeup, and don a pair of white linen capris, a cap-sleeved turquoise blouse, and silver, strappy sandals with a heel.

Gabby rolled her eyes and switched on the radio. "So when'd you get the new phone?" she asked again, indicating the phone Emily was currently trying to plug into the car charger.

"I went over to Brentville last night. After we all left the hospital, Tad had to go by the school to help Maclaine with something—
again
," Emily stressed. "So I went on home. Helen was coming back from a run, so I filled her in. When she told me to call her if I heard anything about Amelia, I remembered I still needed a phone. Where could mine have gotten to anyway?"

"I've searched the house, but no dice," Gabby said.

"Oh well," Emily shrugged. "I've got this one now. I'm going to go ahead and call Helen; I'm sure she's already up and about."

By the time she'd finished her call, they were at the hospital. Stopping by the gift shop for the second time that week, Emily and Gabby bought a bouquet for Amelia and headed up to her floor. The nurse at the desk told them that Amelia was awake, but to keep their visit short. A police officer was seated on a chair outside the door, and Emily felt an involuntary shiver, thinking how lucky Amelia was to still be with them. Whoever had attacked her had clearly not meant for her to survive.

Emily was afraid of how Amelia would look after seeing her so still and pale the day before, but she was relieved to see her sitting up in bed, although she still had several tubes sticking out of her. Her temple was covered by a large bandage, but they could still see that some of Amelia's gorgeous, brunette hair had been shaved.

The minute Amelia saw Emily, tears filled her eyes. She held out both hands to her, and Emily and Gabby pulled up chairs beside the bed. "I hear I have you and Tad to thank for me being alive today."

Emily felt her own eyes well with tears. "You certainly gave us a scare. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got hit in the head with a 2x4," Amelia said, letting out a shaky laugh and self-consciously touching the white bandage.

"Well, you look as beautiful as ever," Gabby told her, squeezing one of her hands. "And I'm sure Trent would agree. Where is he?"

"He was here all night, but I sent him home to shower and change. He's been so good to me. I know he wants to thank you and Tad personally, Emily," Amelia told her.

"There's no need to thank us," Emily said. "I'm glad we decided to stop when we did, but I'd be much happier if we'd come by even earlier." Secretly, she was relieved to hear that Trent had spent the evening with Amelia. Looked like her eyes had just been playing tricks on her last night.

"I guess I should've locked the front door while I was working in my office, but I've never had to worry about that kind of thing before." Here she began to cry softly. "I don't know if I can ever go back there."

"Hey, now, one thing at a time," Emily told her, passing the box of tissues to her, after grabbing one for herself. "Let's just concentrate on getting you well for right now."

"That's what Trent said," Amelia said, blowing her nose. "It all makes no sense to me. Why would anyone attack me?"

Since she'd brought the attack up, Emily decided to ask some of the questions that she had been wondering about the most. "Did you see who it was?"

Amelia shook her head and then winced. Easing back against the pillows, she said, "I'd been working on some files in my office since we didn't have any clients scheduled. I was the only one there, but like I said, I left the front door unlocked. I had just went to the bathroom, and as I was walking back into my office, I remember seeing a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Before I could turn, though, something hit me, and…" She trailed off. The next thing that had happened was Emily and Tad finding her on the floor.

"Do you have any idea at all who it might have been?" Gabby asked her gently.

"No," Amelia said, sounding unbelievably weary. "But…"

"But what?" Emily prompted.

"But I wonder if it was Maclaine," she said quietly, so quietly they had to lean toward her to catch the words.

"Why Maclaine?" Gabby asked, but Emily already had her own suspicions on that front.

"Because you were denying the affair with Larry, and she wants the inheritance to herself?" Emily answered for her.

Amelia sighed and said, "Yeah. I mean, the police told me about the will. I know that accusing Maclaine sounds awfully cold-blooded, but she's the only person I can think of with a motive at all. I'm hopeful the police will figure this all out soon. I don't want to live my life afraid."

"If Larry would have just told the police straight up that you two are not having an affair, maybe none of this would have happened," Gabby said, standing up and fussing with the blinds to keep the sun out of Amelia's eyes. "That man makes me furious."

"Would that man be me?" said a deep voice from the doorway.

All three women looked up to see Larry McBain standing there, mangling a ball cap between his two hands. "Actually, yes," Gabby snapped. "What're you doing here?"

Moving further into the room, Larry avoided making eye contact with Gabby, which was a smart move on his part, as she'd probably have cut him in half with her laser-focused glare. He stepped up beside Amelia, who didn't look any happier to see him there. "Amelia," he started, then stopped. "How are you?" he finally asked lamely.

"I've been better, Larry," Amelia said angrily.

"I know," Larry sighed. "I'm so sorry if any of this was my fault. But—" here he paused to look all three of them in the eye as if willing them to believe him, "I'm sure Maclaine had nothing to do with this."

"Whether Maclaine did or not," Emily interjected, "you have to admit that this vicious attack may be related to the rumors that you and Amelia are involved in some affair. Rumors, I might add, that you have done nothing to squelch."

As if sinking under the weight of their combined accusatory stares, Larry sat down in the one remaining visitor's chair, still keeping a death grip on the ball cap in his hands. "Look, I'm really sorry about all that. The thing is," his cheeks flushed as red as the roses on Amelia's bedside table, "I haven't exactly been forthcoming because I am involved with someone."

Even though Emily had expected as much, she felt the words like a blow. By the looks on Gabby and Amelia's face, she was sure she wasn't the only one shocked by his admission. "With who?" Amelia finally asked. "Because I know it's not me!"

"You've got to understand," Larry began, but Gabby stopped him right there.

"We don't have to understand anything. But either way, I think you better explain yourself."

Larry nodded and began to talk in a rushed voice, as if the sooner he got the words out, the better their reception of his news would be. "It's not like you think. I loved my wife. I would never have stepped out on her. But, the thing is, Janice was often very busy with her mayoral duties. Sometimes I felt like I was married to a shadow."

"Oh, please," Amelia snapped. "Don't play the poor, pitiful neglected husband card."

"No, that's not what I mean." Larry tried once again to explain. "It's just that I found myself at loose ends more often than not. I've always been a voracious reader, so I spent a lot of time in the library. Susanna Fowler and I went to school together, you know," they all nodded, "and Janice, too. In fact, I dated Susanna before Janice, and the more Susanna and I talked, the more I realized Susanna might still care for me. I was flattered and honestly, I realized I had some residual feelings for her as well."

"Did you talk to your wife about this?" Gabby asked him sarcastically.

"No." Larry hung his head. "And I'm sorry for that now. I justified my actions by telling myself that as long as I wasn't physically cheating on my wife, I was doing nothing wrong. But, I knew better. I had feelings for them both. I didn't know what to do."

"So you decided to get Janice out of the way so that you could be with Susanna?" Emily asked, raising her voice just enough to attract the attention of the cop stationed by the door. Thankfully, Larry was too obsessed with clearing his conscience to notice when the cop stepped inside the room, listening intently.

"No! I would never hurt my wife. In fact, the night she—she," a tear slid down his cheek. "That night, I was going to tell her that I still had feelings for Susanna. I felt so guilty, but then…" Larry began to cry in earnest.

A stony silence settled over the room, each one coming to his or her own conclusions. Finally Emily said, "So if you didn't kill your wife, who did?"

"I don't know!" Larry practically shouted. "But I know it wasn't me, and it wasn't Susanna. Amelia," he turned to her, "I'm so sorry if I put you in harm's way. I was trying to protect Susanna. If people thought I was involved with you, then no one would suspect that Susanna and I had feelings for each other. I was wrong, and I'm so very sorry."

Emily could tell by the look on Amelia's face that her friend was relenting. She stood and moved around to Larry's side. "I think it's time you come clean with your story, Larry. You've put two women in grave danger, due to
your
lies. You have to go to the police." The cop at the door moved in to stand by Larry's chair. Noticing him for the first time, Larry nodded.

"I hope you can forgive me, Amelia," he said to her and then he turned to the officer. "I'm ready to make a statement." His head hanging down on his chest like a defeated, old man, he moved with the officer toward the door.

"Larry, I think you need to be worrying about Maclaine and Susanna," Amelia called after him.

Larry stopped at the doorway and turned anguished eyes on the three of them. Then, with a slow nod, he left the room with the officer.

No one spoke, too shocked by the past ten minutes' revelations to even know where to begin. "Well," Gabby broke the silence by saying, "I didn't exactly expect that."