The Cluttered Corpse (24 page)

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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: The Cluttered Corpse
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“It's Bonnie and Bill, Charlotte.”

Just when I thought my heart couldn't race anymore, it turned out I was wrong. “They're in the van? You mean they're dead?”

“Oh yeah. They'd have to be.”

“But if Bonnie and Bill are dead, where is the delivery guy? Why didn't he call the police? Why didn't he send—?” I glanced at the circle of faces, stopping with Myrna and Kevin. They'd been asleep earlier, their house dark when the El Greco guy pulled up. Who delivers pizza to a house where everyone's asleep? The last pieces fell into place. “He shot
them
. And now he must be…Jack, we have to stop him.”

Jack squeezed my hand. “Be calm. The paramedics will be arriving any minute. They'll treat you for shock. You have to go to the hospital.”

“There's no time. We have to get to Pepper's! Try 911 again and tell them to forget Bell Street and get the hell over to Old Pine Street before someone else is killed.”

As we rocketed toward Old Pine Street, I felt nothing except fear. The delivery guy had killed Bonnie and Bill. And he had heard me give the address for Nick's garage, which was next to Pepper and Nick's home. I'd tried to lay a trap for Bonnie and Bill, but what if Pepper and Nick were caught in that trap?

Pepper's cell phone went straight to message. I dialed 911 yet again.

Mona Pringle must work the world's longest shifts. “I hear you, Charlotte. And I heard you the last time. And the time before. The call is out, but all our units have been deployed at the far end of town. You know that. But we've got personnel heading to the Monahans'. Just calm down and stay where you are.”

“We'll be too late,” I said as I hung up. “I know it. Why did I waste time talking to people after you hauled me out of the Dumpster?”

Jack said, “Because you were in shock and bleeding and you needed medical attention. And you still do. We'll check Pepper and Nick's place just to be on the safe side. Then I'm taking you to the emergency room, and I don't want any more arguments.”

“I wasn't thinking clearly, but that's no excuse.”

Jack listened as I explained once again my desperate ploy of sending Bonnie and Bill to Nick's secure garage to find the wedding mice. “Not your fault. Get used to that,” he said. “Guy must be a psychopath to do what he did to Bonnie and Bill. His fault. Their fault. Not yours.”

I babbled endlessly. “He was badly injured. Bill whacked him a couple of times with the board. I don't see how he could drive. Maybe he'll have lost consciousness by now. Maybe he wouldn't make it all the way to Old Pine Street. But anyone who gets in his way could be in big trouble. We have to call the police and tell them to be on the lookout for an orange Neon. Unless, what if he changes vehicles?”

Jack slid the Miata to a stop in front of Pepper and Nick's house. All seemed normal. Quiet. Lovely, sleepy streetscape. Nice houses, nice hedges, dark yet tranquil.

Jack said, “Huh.”

I said, “Oh. Well, good. Still, I have to wake them and tell them what I've—”

An unfamiliar car crept around the corner. The new-looking black Acura sedan skidded to a stop, half on the sidewalk. Jack and I ducked down out of sight. A crouched loping figure slipped from the car and staggered toward the garage.

I said, “He must have stolen a vehicle. You keep an eye on where he goes and I'll wake up Pepper and Nick.”

“No, you stay here and lock the car door and I'll—”

“I'm going, Jack. This is my fault.”

“You are hurt and I can't—”

The shriek of an alarm cut through the night. Motion-detector lights on the garage lit up the street. The figure ducked out of sight into the hedge by the side of the Monahan property.

“He has a gun, Jack. If Nick comes out, he's in danger.”

As the alarmed wailed, Nick exploded through the front door of the house, a weapon in his hand. I jumped out of the car, just as Pepper appeared at the door, pulling on a bathrobe. I didn't dare shout as the delivery guy was out there somewhere. Jack and I crept closer to the house, hugging the shadows. We had to warn Pepper.

Nick swaggered toward his garage. He must have flicked off the alarm with a remote, because, suddenly, everything went silent. Nick opened the garage door and peered in, checking his babies. Jack slipped toward Pepper. I watched as a dark shadow detached itself from the bushes and inched toward Nick, behind his exposed back.

The shadow darted, raised an arm.

“Nick!” I yelled. “Look out. He has a gun.”

Shots, flashes, breaking glass, shouts. Who was screaming? Pepper? Me? Both? Who knows?

The shadow crumpled, tumbled to the ground. Nick Monahan bent to examine his would-be attacker. He stood up again. I watched as he ducked into the garage to check on his precious vehicles. It seemed as good a time as any for me to pass out.

The worst thing about the hospital was finding a television set near my bed. My friends had provided it as a favor, since I fussed a lot about being kept in for observation. And the worst thing about the television set was Todd Tyrell's face. This time his gelled head was visible in front of Pepper and Nick's house on Old Pine Street. He intoned with obvious pleasure:

It was a wild night of murder and mayhem on the streets of Woodbridge. On this quiet street, last night Officer Nick Monahan risked his life to stop a killer.

A shot of Nick, in uniform, looking handsome and almost intelligent, flashed on the screen. I considered putting my pillow over my head.

In a terrifying home invasion, Officer Monahan, a third-generation member of the Woodbridge police force, defended his pregnant wife against an attack by a crazed killer.

I sat up fast enough to make my head spin. Pregnant wife?

Pepper's picture flashed across the screen next, followed by a shot of Nick's garage, with the windows shot out.

The fourth image was our own El Greco delivery guy. He looked older and harder than I'd remembered. Maybe because of his goatee and his darker hair in the picture. No arrogant flirtatious grin there. Then again, it was a mug shot.

Ex-convict Waylon Favreau was wanted by the FBI on several charges, including a contract killing of three people in Syracuse last year. Favreau died in an exchange of gunfire as he attempted to gain unlawful entry into the property of Officer Nicholas Monahan and Sergeant Pepper Monahan. The Monahans were lucky to escape injury or worse. Their attacker was pronounced dead at the scene. Less than an hour earlier, Favreau is suspected of having shot Woodridge residents Charlotte Adams, and Bonnie and Bill Baxter. Adams is recovering at Woodridge General Hospital. The bodies of the Baxters were dumped on a Bell Street construction site, before Favreau—what's that? Oh right, allegedly broke into the Monahans' property to continue his rampage. Favreau has also been linked to the hit-and-run that hospitalized twenty-year-old Lilith Carisse yesterday. This begs the question of whether Waylon Favreau was also responsible for the death of Tony Starkman last Sunday. Following these startling developments, an unnamed police source is quoted as saying that Emily Louise Rheinbeck should be released from secure custody at any moment. In the meantime, Nicholas Monahan remains a hero for our town.

A shot of me being loaded into the ambulance followed. Not surprisingly, I looked like I'd spent the night in a Dumpster. Something told me that would be the new stock shot of me in the WINY files. I was followed by another shot of Nick Monahan outside his home.

“Nobody touches my baby,” he said.

At least his Mustang was safe, although I might have been one of the few who made that connection. There was no mention of my role or Jack's.

Todd Tyrell's day was made as he added:

Police chief Maurice Eaves has called a press conference for this afternoon at two p.m. Stay tuned to WINY for this breaking story.

I glanced over to the door where Jack was now standing, holding a bouquet of blue irises. He was more like my idea of a hero. I hoped he hadn't sneaked the dogs into the hospital since I'd had my share of trouble so far. On the other hand, they were heroes too.

Sally couldn't have picked a better time to have her baby. Half her friends were already stuck in Woodbridge General; the other half were already visiting. Even Margaret had ducked out of her office to visit Lilith. Very convenient.

No surprise, there was a partylike atmosphere in her private room in the Mother and Baby Center. Pink flowers filled the room, including a giant bouquet from Jack. He was very disappointed that the hospital had a no-balloons policy.

“Don't worry, Jack,” Sally said. “We'll make up for that when I get home. No latex allergies there.”

Lilith was out of danger, relocated on the fifth floor near me, and surprisingly well enough to be wheeled in to see Sally and the new baby. She smiled vaguely and briefly before she was whisked away back to her room. Word was she had a good chance of a full recovery. Rose, of course, remained by her side, although she had promised to sleep at home that night. I felt a lump in my throat at how close my friends had come to seeing Bonnie Baxter on the wrong end of a gun.

“Hey, Charlotte,” Sally said. “Bernice called just as we were leaving for the hospital. She mentioned that she'd like that mudroom project after all. What a ditz.”

There was so much going on in my head that, for once, I couldn't think about work.

I jumped when I spotted Pepper at the door. Without a glance in my direction, she swooped in on Sally. Her skin glowed, her eyes shone, she looked quite magnificent, although in the magnificence sweepstakes, no one can ever top our gal Sal. I watched and waited as Pepper pecked Sally's cheek. I thought I spotted a special bond, the mothers' club.

I felt a wave of guilt and shame as I watched Pepper. I had sent Waylon Favreau to invade her home, well, her husband's garage, but close enough. How could that ever be forgiven?

Sally said, “Meet Shenandoah.”

“Shenandoah,” Pepper said, leaning over the pink bundle and reaching down to stroke the tiny cheek.

“Did you wash your hands?” Jack said.

Pepper said, “She's so beautiful, and that's a lovely name.”

Sally shot her an impish grin. “Should be. Jack thought of it.”

My injuries were catching up with me; the adrenaline from Shenandoah's arrival wasn't enough to keep me up much longer. I left them all cooing in the room and stumbled into the hallway. The granite-faced detective stood there, sipping his Stewart's coffee, waiting for Pepper. My mouth fell open as I spotted Margaret advancing toward him with a can-do look in her eye. When Pepper emerged from Sally's room, I said, “I urgently need to talk to you. I've been leaving messages.”

“And I've had a few things on my mind. Anyway, every time I tried to contact you, you were tied up with the doctors or getting X-rays or whatever.”

“I guess that's true. First, congratulations. You will make a terrific mother.”

“Thank you.”

I swallowed. “Second, I want to say how sorry I am that I put you and Nick in danger. I hope you can forgive me. I felt I had no—”

She raised her hand. “Forget it. Worked all right. No one in his family or the police force ever took Nick seriously. Now he's a hero, all over the news. People are asking him for his autograph. Best thing that ever happened to him.”

“But won't he be investigated? There was a death.”

“I'm not worried. Nick was defending himself and me. With what this Favreau pulled off? Murders, assaults, hit-and-run, plus there's a lot of outstanding stuff against him. It will be ruled a clean shoot. When it's over, he'll probably get a commendation.”

“Oh, that's good.”

“Yeah. It's hard for him to get respect. This will change things.”

“I hadn't thought about it that way.”

Her eyes shone. “Everyone's always so disappointed in him: his father, his uncles, his brothers. Now he showed them. I knew he could do it.

“Right.” He was a vapid, underperforming, womanizing child in a man's body. But hey, whatever turned her on. Maybe the combination of hero status and fatherhood would make a difference. But any suspicions I'd had about her relationship with the granite-faced detective vanished. There was no one for Pepper but Nick. If only that could work both ways.

She said, “And your friend Emmy Lou's out now. We got that one wrong.”

“I think you can both be heroes. All the family. I believe you'll find the missing piece of the puzzle about Bonnie and Bill, or whoever they really were—”

“Fugitives.”

“This will sound crazy, but if you go to Gary Gigantes shop and check out the toys I left there, you'll find a little bride and groom mouse. Somewhere inside them, there's a safety deposit key to something that the Baxters were willing to kill to protect and Waylon Favreau was willing to kill to get. I don't know where the safety deposit box is or what's in it, but I wanted to tell you. At least you might get credit for something.”

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