A Little Learning (15 page)

“You have a couple of furrows in your brow, yes.”

On the drive home, I wondered what my next move should be. I could talk to more people at the school. I could poke around Nathan’s apartment because I had the feeling he knew more than he was telling me. There were many thing to consider, not the least of them Jerry.

“Furrows again,” Jerry said.

I gave him a look. “I wonder who put them there.”

“Jeff and I never used our real names. Misty May will forget all about me.”

“How many times have I said that one day your past will catch up with you?”

“When and if it does, I’ll deal with it.” He turned on the CD player. A rich baritone voice sang an ominous sounding aria.

“That’s foreshadowing if I ever heard it,” I said.

“‘Scintille, diamante,’ as if you didn’t know.”

I’d heard this aria many times. “Isn’t he talking about a sparkly diamond and trapping someone’s soul with a mirror? No wonder you love this song.”

“Yup. ‘The one parts with its life there, and the other loses her soul.’” Jerry sang along for a while. When the aria was over, he turned the music down. “Only I’m not going to lose my soul.”

“Good plan.”

“I’d keep the sparkly diamond, though.”

Traffic was heavy on I-40, so I hadn’t really noticed the dark blue Dodge Ram pickup truck until it followed us down the Celosia exit and onto West Avenue. This didn’t concern me until it continued to follow my car as I took a couple of short cuts to Main Street. I’d lived in Celosia only a few months, but that was long enough to recognize practically every car in town, and I didn’t know this truck.

Relax, I told myself. Why would someone be following you? The only person with a possible grievance was Misty May, and she was not driving the Dodge Ram.

I felt foolish when I pulled into an empty parking place near Deely’s Burger World and the truck went past without slowing down. I caught a glimpse of the driver, a large, ordinary looking bald man who didn’t even give me a glance.

Jerry and I went into Deely’s and ordered cheeseburgers and fries. We were just digging in when a beefy young man in overalls and a baseball cap pulled low over his narrow dark eyes stopped at our table and glowered at Jerry. He was Jackson Dooley, Sylvie’s fiancé.

“Just what the hell is going on with that watch story you been telling Sylvie?”

I had to admire how Jerry didn’t flinch. “We’re very close to finding it.”

“You’d better be. I told her all that fortune telling stuff was crap, and if she was going to marry me, she’d better stop going to your stupid séances and having you tell her all this nonsense about her dead aunts.”

“Okay.”

Jerry’s calm reply wasn’t what Jackson expected. I could tell he’d been hoping for a fight. He clenched his fists a few times and looked around the crowded restaurant. He lowered his voice. “So listen up. You’d better come up with a watch, and you’d better tell her that was the last message from dead people. She’s all caught up in that spirit stuff, and it’s not right. She gets a watch, she’s happy, then it’s over, and I’m happy, got it?”

“Why don’t you get her a watch, then?”

Jackson leaned on the table. “Oh, no. It’s gotta come from you, and it better be real, or there’s gonna be trouble.”

I cleared my throat. Jackson straightened. “Pardon me, ma’am, but he’s gotta make it right. He’s been leading her on for too long now. I’ve had enough of his tricks.”

I wanted to say, I have, too, but managed to contain myself. “Sylvie and her aunt have enjoyed their visits.”

“I’m sure they have, and I’m not saying they can’t visit any more, ‘cause I can’t tell Mrs. Flossie Mae what to do, that’s for sure. But they’ve paid good money, and they deserve results. How long were you planning to string them along, Fairweather?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jerry said.

“You damn sure will. I’ll give you till Monday. Bright and early.” He touched the brim of his cap. “Ma’am.”

He lumbered off. I calmly dipped my French fries in ketchup and ate them while Jerry drummed his fingers on the table. Finally he said, “You’re not going to say anything?”

“I think Jackson said it all.”

“When can we go back to Parkland?”

“Tomorrow.”

“That’s Thursday.”

“That’s right.”

“That should give me enough time.”

“I hope so, or Jackson will be knocking on our door.”

“I can take him.”

I chuckled. “I can, maybe. I don’t know about you.”

Jerry stirred his straw around in his Coke. I could tell his thoughts were stirred up, too. “What do you think he’ll do?”

“More than likely, he’ll punch you in the eye, but I believe his mother works for the
Celosia News
.”

Jerry stopped stirring. “Bad publicity for your agency.”

“‘Fairweather Scams Local Woman’ might not be the best thing for Madeline Maclin Investigations.”

“It’s not going to come to that, Mac.”

“You see how these stupid schemes always catch up with you?”

He took a drink. “Well, ordinarily, I’d be long gone by now.”

“And you’re staying because—?”

“Because now I am a fine upstanding member of the community.”

“Who’s still holding fake séances.”

“I promise I’ll hold only one more, hand over the watch, and say good-by to the spirit world.”

“Good.” I was hunting in my pocketbook for some money to pay the bill when Rachel Sigmon came in with her two daughters. She saw me, waved, and ushered the two girls over to our table.

“Madeline, these are my girls, Bronwen and Magwen. Girls, this is Madeline Maclin, a former Miss Parkland.”

As I’d seen in their pictures, Bron and Mag had none of their mother’s attractive features. Instead of long dark hair, they had tired brown hair that lay flat on their little round heads. Suspicious eyes gleamed from their doughy little faces. I could only guess they looked like their father.

“Hello, girls. This is my husband, Jerry. Jerry, Rachel Sigmon.”

They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Jerry,” Rachel said. “Madeline, I just wanted to tell you the girls are so excited about being in Little Miss Rainbow.”

The girls eyed their mother with all the excitement of facing long hours at the dentist.

“For her talent, Bron’s playing a piano solo by Edvard Grieg, and Mag is doing a dramatic recitation.”

“‘The Raven,’” Mag said. “It’s a poem.”

What cheery choices. “Well, good luck.”

“I apologize again for pestering you about coaching them. The director of the pageant said he had plenty of time to show all the girls what to do. Of course they have their dance recital at the theater first. I hope you can stop by the house and visit us some time soon.”

“I’ll try.”

“Okay, girls, let’s go. You have a lot of practicing to do. See you later, Madeline.”

Bronwen and Magwen sighed and trudged after their mother.

“Poor things,” I said.

Jerry grinned. “The Spud Sisters.”

I had to laugh. “That’s unkind.”

“At least their mom isn’t after you to coach them any more.”

“They would need a lot of coaching. Ready to go?”

“All set.”

But next, Fiona Kittering came up. By her tense expression and glittering eyes, I could tell she was a rat terrier on the hunt.

“Madeline, Nathan says you were asking him all sorts of questions about Amelia Lever. What’s going on? You can’t possibly think he had anything to do with her death, can you?”

“I just wanted to know if he knew her. She was his cousin’s fifth grade teacher.”

Fiona quivered like a terrier who has caught sight of a squirrel in her territory. “You think he killed Amelia? That’s crazy.”

“It’s my job to ask all kinds of questions. Sometimes the craziest thing can lead to a clue.”

“No, it’s your job to solve that riddle.”

“I’m doing that, too.”

The terrier had now jumped off the porch. “But it has to be solved by Monday! Are you any closer to finding the answer? That’s why Nathan hired you, not to accuse him of murder.”

The people in the next booth were almost leaning over to listen.

“Okay, calm down,” I said. “I didn’t accuse him of murder. I only asked if he knew Amelia.”

“Well, when he called me, he was very upset.”

“I’m sorry. I realize he has an important deadline, and that’s probably why he’s on edge. I’ll call and apologize.”

Fiona took a deep breath and became human again. “Yes, well, that would be very nice. Sorry I blew up. Guess I’ve been on edge, too.”

“That’s all right. You’re concerned about him. I understand.”

I thought she would say something else, but she turned and left the restaurant.

“Well, that was interesting,” I said. “Nathan got upset enough to call her. Was he hoping she’d warn me off? That I’d stop asking inappropriate questions, or give up the case?”

“Okay, so we’ve both been accosted in Burger World,” Jerry said. “What say we go home?”

“That’s a very good idea.”

***

When we got home, there was a dark blue Dodge Ram pickup truck parked in the driveway.

“Who’s that?” Jerry asked.

“I don’t know, but the truck followed us from Rossboro.”

The man who got out of the truck wasn’t just large. He was extra large. He was at least six feet tall, wearing camouflage pants and a tank top. He had more muscles on his arms than Jerry has on his entire body. Even his bald head looked muscular.

He smiled. “Evening, ma’am, sir. Somebody told me this was where the Fairweathers lived. I’m looking for Mister Fairweather.”

“That’s me,” Jerry said.

“I’m Bert Finchner. You owe me five thousand dollars.”

I don’t know how Bert Finchner managed to look affable and sinister at the same time. Maybe it had something to do with the way he smiled as he loomed over Jerry.

“How do I owe you five thousand dollars, Mister Finchner?”

“Call me Bert. My lady friend, Misty May, called me to say you had stopped by her office, and as luck would have it, I was down at the gas station next to the highway. She recognized you as one of the fellows who had a little knife game going at the fair a couple of years back. Seems she had a bet with some of her girlfriends, and they all gave her some money to bet on the outcome of that game, money I believe you took under false pretenses.”

“I’m not sure you can prove that.”

Bert Finchner grinned. “Oh, I imagine I can. See, I watch a lot of TV, especially that Discovery Channel. They got a great program called ‘How Do They Do That?’ Not long after Misty lost her money, they showed on that program how you do that knife trick. Pretty clever, I have to say, but pretty dishonest, too, to take folks’ money that way. It’s a little set of pegs on the side, and the one the knife’s in sticks out just so you can see it, but nobody else can. So you’re never gonna slam your hand down on the cup with the knife in it.”

I could tell by Jerry’s expression that this was exactly how the knife trick was done.

Bert cracked one huge set of knuckles and then the other. “Just give me the money, and I’m outta your way for good. Otherwise, I might have to show you a little knife trick of my own.” He smiled at me again. “Begging your pardon, ma’am. I hate to threaten your husband right here in front of you, but he knows what he done. Hope it hasn’t scandalized you too much.”

“This isn’t news to me,” I said.

Bert looked surprised. “You part of the act, too?”

“No, I’m trying to reform him.”

“Hope that’s working for you.”

“How do you figure five thousand dollars?” Jerry asked.

“What you took, plus interest.”

“I don’t have five thousand dollars.”

“That’s okay. You’ve got a real pretty wife, who wants the best for you, so here’s what I’m gonna do. I’ll give you a couple a days to come up with the cash, how’s that? What’s today, Wednesday?” He counted on his fingers. “Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday—why that’s plenty of time. I’ll even give you the whole weekend. I’ll come back Monday. You don’t have it then, I’m calling the law. Fair enough?”

I saw Jerry swallow hard. A gold watch with an “S’ and five thousand dollars. Monday was looming large and dark. Just like Bert. “Fair enough.”

Bert gave him a slap on the shoulder that almost toppled him over. “Good! I like to settle things nice all around. See you Monday!”

He got into his truck and drove away. Jerry and I stood in the yard for a while.

“I think that was the past,” I said, “and I think it just caught up.”

Chapter Five

I would like to say that Jerry and I spent the rest of the night making wild, passionate love, but thanks to Jackson’s threat and Bert’s unsettling visit, Jerry stayed up watching TV and wandering around. I worked in my studio for a while. Once I got into my painting, something took over, something I couldn’t ever explain. I’d paint, then I’d step away, not really knowing how the brush strokes managed to capture the spirit of the leaves, or how the colors blended to make clouds and sky. I really enjoyed bringing the fields and woods to life, carefully overlaying the tones to make depth, copying the scene and yet creating something completely new. I forgot about Amelia Lever and Nathan Fenton, poor little Tori trapped in her house, and the menacing hulk that was Bert Finchner.

I finally went to bed around two. I woke to the sweet smells of cinnamon toast and lay in bed a few more minutes, thinking how lucky I was to have a husband who enjoyed making breakfast.

But this same husband needs a job, I reminded myself. This same husband needs to pay his debts, and I wasn’t sure how he could do that. I swung my legs out of bed and plopped my feet firmly on the floor. I had other mysteries to solve first.

I got dressed and combed my hair. When I came into the kitchen, Jerry was at the counter buttering toast.

“How many pieces you want?”

“Two to start, thanks.”

I got my coffee and sat down at the table. Jerry put two pieces of cinnamon toast on a plate and brought the plate to me. “Did you get any sleep?” he asked.

“A little. Did you stay up all night?”

He nodded. “I know I said I wasn’t going to call Harriet, but this is an emergency.”

“What did she say?”

“I called her this morning to see if she could loan me the money. I forgot until I heard her answering machine that she was going with Tucker and Selene to our beach house this week. They won’t be back until next weekend. Tucker was my next plan, and he’s in Bermuda. They’re all in Bermuda.”

“I may have enough in my savings account—” I started to say.

“No, this is my mess. I need to clean it up.”

“You can pay me back.”

“I thought I’d check with some other friends in Parkland.”

Was he planning something illegal to pay off Big Bert? “What kind of friends?”

“Scurvy, nasty, pig-stealing friends. We can knock off a couple of banks before lunch.”

“Speaking of banks, why don’t we see if we can get a loan?”

“This is Thursday. Think they’ll approve one today?”

“Not on your credit, but probably on mine. We can stop by and see before we go to Tori’s. And some time today I need to visit Rachel and talk to Nathan.”

The phone rang. “Maybe Bilby or Del found a watch,” Jerry said. “I’d like one thing to go right today. Hello? Oh, hello, Tori. We were just saying we’d come back to the chateau this morning. Yes, she’s here. Hang on.” He passed the phone to me.

Tori’s voice sounded even more plaintive than usual. “Madeline, I was wondering if you could come over this morning by yourself for a little while.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I don’t want to hurt Jerry’s feelings, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“He can come later today to continue the search.”

“I’m just finishing breakfast,” I said. “Then I’ll come over.”

“Thank you.”

She hung up. I handed the phone back to Jerry. “Slight change of plans. Tori needs to talk to me alone this morning. She sounded really down.”

“Take her something for her scrapbook. A little sketch, maybe. You got anything that looks like a ballerina up there?”

“No, but it would take only a minute to make one. That’s a good idea.” I got up. “Come here.” I hugged him tight. “We’ll work this out.”

He grinned and kissed me. “Have you ever thought about making your own hundred dollar bills?”

“Mm, you taste like cinnamon toast. No, and you’re not going to, either.”

“Well, do you think you could change your plans one more time?”

“Put you at the top of the list, you mean?”

“Just for a few minutes. Then you can go see Tori, Nathan, Rachel, and the rest of Celosia.”

***

About an hour later, I drove up to Chateau Marmot. As usual, Tori was waiting at the door.

“Madeline, thanks so much for coming. I hope I didn’t make Jerry angry.”

“Not at all.” In fact, I’d left Jerry feeling very happy, indeed.

“Well, please come in.” She led the way to her dark little parlor. The portrait of Cousin Barnaby leaned against a stack of scrapbooks. “I haven’t found out anything else from the picture.”

“We’ll find the answer, don’t worry.” I moved a stack of scrapbooks off a chair and sat down. Tori perched in her chair, wringing her little hands. I wanted to cheer her up. “Before we start, I have something for you for your scrapbook.” I handed her the little pen and ink sketch I’d done after breakfast and a brief tumble in bed with Jerry. Tori took it in both hands as if it were a holy relic.

“Oh, my goodness. You can’t mean for me to have this!”

“I’d love for you to have it.”

“It’s beautiful! You are so talented.”

“Thank you.”

“But you can’t possibly want to give it up.”

“I can draw another.”

She clutched it to her. “Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ll find a special place for it in my book.” She carefully set the drawing aside. “I owe you an explanation.”

I waited while she gathered her thoughts.

“Madeline, being in
The Nutcracker
changed my life. Before that, I was just Tori Dewey, the plumber’s daughter. After I danced in that ballet, I was someone special. People recognized me. They wanted my autograph. They wanted to take a picture with me. I was finally someone! Madeline, you’re a winner. You know how it is.”

“Tori, you are someone.”

She shook her head. “Not any more.”

“What made it change?”

“Aaron. At first, he was proud of me, but then he got tired of everything, all the attention. I think he was a bit jealous. He said what did it matter if I danced in some silly dance? He said ballet was for people who thought they were better than everyone else. But that was exactly what the Fentons and Satterfields thought! It didn’t make sense to me, but I loved him, so I said I’d stay at home, go the club with him, have parties and so on here at the chateau, the whole social scene.”

“You gave up your career?”

“Yes. Then one day Aaron said he wanted to leave, and that was that. He said he needed some time by himself.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Every day I expect to find divorce papers in the mail. I suppose it will be a relief, in a way. As for Nathan.” She paused. “He was interested in me, but I was already engaged to Aaron. I think he might be angry that I married Aaron.”

“Have you talked to him about this?”

Tori’s little face drooped with sadness. “I tried to once. He said he didn’t want to talk to me.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. With her self-esteem not secure to begin with, this must have been the final blow. “Tori, none of this was your fault.”

“Of course, it was. I wasn’t woman enough for Aaron, and I tried so hard.”

“But if Aaron wasn’t really in love with you, you could’ve been Marilyn Monroe, and he wouldn’t have cared.”

She wiped away a few tears. “I know. But ever since then, I’ve been ashamed to go out.”

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed. Unfortunately, a lot of marriages don’t work out.”

“I don’t know. I thought the whole town was laughing about it.”

“Don’t you think some people would sympathize with you?”

“It’s just so mortifying.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Let me change the subject. Why did Elijah let you stay in the chateau?”

She leaned forward. “This was the oddest thing, Madeline. Not long before he died, he came to see me, which scared me to death at first, but he was very polite. He said he may have been wrong about me. He said Aaron had married me to spite him, and he was sorry his nephew had treated me so badly. He said he knew I loved the house and needed a place to stay, and he was going to make sure I could stay here. I must have looked as puzzled as I felt because he told me he knew he was dying and wanted to make some things right. Well, of course, I thanked him. I could hardly believe it.”

“And Nathan has no interest in the house?”

“He says he doesn’t. Neither does Aaron. I’m very happy to have such a beautiful place, even if it is kind of large.”

But it will become your tomb if I can’t convince you to get out once in a while. “Tori, I’m going to make a suggestion, and you don’t have to say yes or no right now, just think about it. I want you to consider coming to Parkland to see
Sleeping Beauty
with me.”

She drew herself in. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Just come and be in the audience. I think you’ll see that no one will point a finger at you or make some crude remark. In fact, no one in Parkland will know you.”

She took my hand in her little hand. “Madeline, I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it more than I can say, but I can’t leave the house.”

“Just think about it.”

“I’ll think about it, but I already know what my answer will be.”

I wasn’t sure what else I could say to her. “I’ll see you later, then.”

This time, she didn’t walk with me to the door. She just turned and disappeared into the darkness of her house.

***

Bad news at the bank. When I called to ask about a loan, I was informed that I could be approved by Monday. This was cutting things a bit close. I had enough money in my savings account to cover Jerry’s debt, but it would put quite a dent in my savings. If Nathan paid the rest of his fee, that would help, but I hadn’t solved Nathan’s riddle, so I didn’t feel I had the right to ask for more money up front.

When I called Jerry to let him know, he said, “Mac, do not take out any of your savings. I told you it was my problem. I’ll fix it.”

“Yes, but I’m a little worried about your methods.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m on my way to Nathan’s. Are you needed at the store?”

“Not until this afternoon.”

This made me a little worried, too. “I’ll come pick you up. You can go with me.”

“Go ahead and detect,” he said. “I’m calling in a few favors.”

“Jerry.”

“And circling the interesting looking want ads in the
Celosia News.
Catch you later.”

I sighed as I closed my phone. I had no idea what “calling in a few favors” meant. I didn’t want any of Jerry’s former partners in crime showing up on my doorstep, but at least he was trying to do something about his situation.

Nathan wasn’t home. I called him and got his answering machine. I left a message for him to call me as soon as possible. Then I called Celosia Elementary and asked to speak to Rachel. The secretary told me one of Rachel’s daughters wasn’t feeling well, and Rachel had taken a sick day to be home with her. I thought maybe I’d gotten another reprieve, but when I called Rachel’s house, she said, “Oh, we’re fine. Come on over. We’d love to see you.”

So I went to Rachel’s house.

***

Rachel lived in a neighborhood of large split-level homes, all painted green and yellow. I wondered how she knew which one was hers. She was delighted to see me. Both Bronwen and Magwen were watching a Barbie movie on TV and were less than thrilled when their mother switched it off and insisted they sit down at the kitchen table with me.

“I just made a fresh pot of tea, and we have some Girl Scout cookies, if you’d like some.”

“Tea will be fine, thanks,” I said. “How are you girls?”

“Okay,” they said.

“I thought one of you wasn’t feeling well today?”

“After their dance rehearsal last night, it took me forever to get them settled, so I let them sleep in this morning.” Rachel said. “They were so excited. I told them they did so well. They should be very proud of themselves.”

The girls looked bored. Bronwen said. “Mom, can Alex come to my birthday party?”

Rachel frowned. “We’ll talk about that later.”

“But you promised I could invite anybody I wanted to.”

“That’s not something we’re going to discuss right now.”

Bronwen folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip in a full-blown pout. Magwen grinned. “Bron’s got a boy friend, Bron’s got a boyfriend.”

“You shut up,” Bron said.

Rachel’s frown deepened. “Bron! We don’t use that expression. Mag, you are not to tease your sister.”

“Well, she does.”

“Girls, you have a wonderful opportunity to ask Madeline anything you like about being in a pageant, but if the two of you can’t behave, you can go up to your rooms.”

They sat and looked at me. If I’d been able to read minds, I would have seen a blankness as vast as outer space. Rachel waited, and when she realized her daughters didn’t have any questions, or any conversation, she said, “Very well. You’re excused from the table. Upstairs. Now.”

Bronwen and Magwen did not seem at all concerned about being dismissed. They ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Rachel handed me a mug of tea.

“I’m sorry. They’re just so wound up. I really appreciate you coming by, though. How’s your investigation coming along?”

“Slowly.”

“Nothing to indicate Amelia was murdered, I hope.”

“I still have some people to talk to.”

A muffled crash and an outraged cry from one of the girls sounded overhead.

Rachel got up. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Will you excuse me a moment, please?”

I looked around for someplace to put my tea bag and decided the trash can must be under the sink. In the trash, I saw the familiar metallic gleam of a Bufo card wrapper. There were lots of empty wrappers. Gold wrappers. I looked around, hoping to spy some cards, but Rachel’s kitchen was spotless.

I sat back at my place. Rachel returned, looking calm, but there was an edge to her voice. “Madeline, I hope you don’t think today is a typical day at my house. Bron insists on having this boy at her party, and he’s a seventh grader. Much too old for her. Now she and Mag are quarreling. I think they’re over stimulated.”