Bring Home the Murder (14 page)

 

Chapter 23

E
arly evening light filtered through the landing window. “Stairs are going to be the death of me yet.” Shirley fanned herself on the way up the stairs.

In the bedroom she gaped at the bookcase. “I would never in a million years suspect this hid a top-secret door. To think I slept up here and never knew anything about it.” She shook her shoulders and her face crinkled. “This is all so cloak and dagger, isn't it?”

Meggie agreed and tugged on the bookcase. It groaned, pulled away from the wall and swung open. She pointed out an added feature. A narrow strip of wood ran across the bottom of each shelf to keep the books in place when the door opened.

Shirley stuck her head through the opening and quipped over her shoulder. “You're right. It's dark in here.” She stepped back and waved a hand in front of her. “You first, Sherlock. I'll bring up the rear.”

Meggie entered the dark area and swept the flashlight around. “Be careful. These stairs are uneven.” She bent down in front of the first stair, lifted the tread and shone the light inside.

“So that's where you found the letters? This is so exciting.” Shirley ducked under the wall and directed her gaze at the small area under the tread's lid.

Meggie scooted over to make room for Shirley. She shone the light over the cracks along the edges of the wooden bottom. “Why do you suppose Fred left a key in here?”

“Didn't Vera tell you his house had been broken into more than once? Maybe he wanted to hide it just like the letters. Or he might have dropped it there by mistake. Molly said she found it jammed in a crack.”

Meggie studied the inside of the hollow stair, ran her finger over the bottom and pushed down on the narrow end. The board flipped up. Her breath hitched. “What in the world?” She reached into the space under the stair's false bottom and lifted out a wooden heart-shaped box. It appeared homemade and a name had been carved across the top. Amelia.

“What do you think this means?”

“I think it means we ask Molly to open the package she wrapped for Barry and take that key out. I'll bet a dollar to a donut hole that's the key to Fred's heart.” She set the box under the stair tread until she was through in the attic.

The air had become stifling by the time they reached the top of the stairs. Meggie's forehead dripped with perspiration, her upper lip sprouted beads of sweat. She wiped a hand over her face and ducked into the attic. The same musty smell hung in the air. Low light shone through the only window. “Be careful you don't bump your head,” she warned.

Shirley crept through the opening and straightened her posture. “It's completely empty.” Her voice echoed in surprise. “There's nothing stored up here.”

“That's what made me think Molly and Michael knew nothing about the hidden staircase. They probably thought the trap door in the upstairs bedroom was the only way to the attic. So they stored everything in the garage.” Meggie shone the light on the floor in front of her. “Come on. I'll show you the trapdoor.”

“Did you hear that?” Shirley stood very still and cocked her ear.

“I didn't hear anything. Your imagination must be playing tricks on you.”

“You're probably right, but I would swear someone yelled something. It sounded like it came from that direction.” Shirley pointed toward the front of the house. “What happened to that window?”

“I found it broken after the storm and fixed it temporarily.” She moved past the trapdoor and pointed it out to Shirley.

“I know I've waffled on whether or not you saw an intruder up here. I want you to know I believe you now.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Meggie grinned and strode toward the window. “Come look at the view of the backyard from here.”

Shirley edged up to the window. “I just think it's odd that no one seemed to know about the stairway except the intruder.”

Meggie gazed out across the backyard, lost in thought. She recalled her first conversation with Amelia Schmidt. “Darrell Schmidt probably knew about the secret passageway. I'm sure he's the mysterious intruder even if he hasn't admitted it.”

Shirley tapped her lip. “I wonder why he hasn't come clean.”

“Think about it,” Meggie explained. “There are repercussions if he admits to breaking and entering. Right now he's being charged with several offenses, but not breaking and entering.”

“You're right. He'd get more time in the cooler if they charged him with that.”

The evening light faded and a dark veil fell over the farm yard. Meggie turned away from the window. She flashed the light toward the opposite end of the attic. “I think we're done up here. Let's go have dessert.”

When Meggie didn't move, Shirley prodded. “What's the matter with you? Why are you standing there? You act like you've seen a ghost or something.”

Meggie shaded the flashlight and whispered, “I think I heard the back door slam.”

“I didn't hear anything.” Shirley looked stricken. “Did we leave the back door unlocked?”

Meggie stepped back and peered out the attic window. She couldn't see anything in the dark, but listened closely. The back door slammed a second time. She put a hand to her chest
.

Shirley leaned into her friend. “Maybe Molly came home early.”

“No, I don't think it's her. The door slammed twice.” Meggie crept to the attic wall. She lowered herself to the floor and pressed her ear over the crack between the attic floor and wall but couldn't hear anything.

Shirley knelt down on all fours next to her. “Are there two of them? What do you think they're up to?” Her voice quivered. “What if they come up to the attic? What are we going to do?”

“I can tell you what we aren't going to do,” Meggie whispered. “We aren't going downstairs.” She kept her ear to the floor. After several minutes she heard a gruff voice shout, but his words were inaudible. She jabbed her finger toward the opposite end of the attic. “They must be moving through the house.”

Shirley gasped and pushed herself up. “They're getting closer. We can't let them know we're up here.”

A brief silence came over the house then a female voice bellowed, “Quit arguing. Get the job done or you'll find yourself—”

Before she could finish, a masculine voice cut in, “If I go down you're going with me.”

Meggie felt a lump in her throat and swallowed. She pushed herself part-way up. Her leg cramped. She mouthed a scream, rolled over and tried to rub the spasm from her leg.

“Oh, my gosh,” Shirley bent over Meggie. “It sounds like they're near the entryway. Try to stand up and walk on your leg.” She pulled on her friend's arm.

Meggie fought the pain and stood up. She put weight on both feet. Her hand flew to her mouth. “We left the secret door open.”

“We're dead meat,” Shirley hissed and glanced around the room. “There's no place to hide.”

Meggie put her hands against Shirley's shoulders. “Wait here and don't move.” She took the flashlight and limped toward the hidden staircase as quietly as she could.

Once through the opening, she shaded the flashlight and placed her foot on the first stair. She steadied herself against the wall, tapped her way to the second stair. Part way down the flight, her foot slipped. She felt herself falling backward and fought to keep her balance. The flashlight struck the wall.

“What was that? It sounded like it came from upstairs.” The man's gravelly voice was barely audible. “I don't think we're alone in the house.”

An eerie hush descended. The air grew thick. A stair creaked. Then another. Footsteps grew louder. One footstep sounded heavier than the other. Did the man limp?

Meggie sat on her buttocks and scooted down the remaining stairs. She reached out for the secret door and pulled it towards her.

Footsteps thumped into the bedroom and a rough voice shouted, “You ain't gonna believe this, but I just saw that bookcase move.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” the woman answered him. “Let's make a quick search up here and leave. She said they're somewhere in the house.” The bedroom floor creaked as footsteps shuffled past the secret door and faded.

Meggie stood motionless, elbows pressed into her sides. Only muted sounds broke through the barrier that separated her from danger. She held her hand on her chest to quiet her pounding heart. Something thumped above her. An eerie howl split the air.

“Don't tell me I'm imagining that,” the male prowler snarled, his voice growing louder. “I told you, but you wouldn't believe me. I'm out of here. You're on your own. This whole thing was your idea in the first place.” Footsteps clumped past the bookcase and down the steps.

“Don't be a fool. There's no such thing as ghosts,” the woman called after him. A second set of footsteps rushed past the door. The front door slammed. Footsteps thumped down the stairs. A woman screamed, then a loud thud. A scrambling commotion followed and the front door slammed a second time.

Meggie bowed her head and unclenched her fists. She switched the flashlight on and hurried back up the stairs. She stepped inside the attic and swept the flashlight back and forth. It came to rest on her friend. Her stomach dropped at the sight. Shirley lay sprawled facedown.

She rushed over, knelt down and shook her gently. “Shirley, can you hear me? Where are you hurt?” She flashed the light over the prostrate figure.

Shirley moaned and tried to lift her head. “I'm alive but my head is killing me. I'm not sure all my parts are working.” She pushed with her arms to prop herself up. “Are they gone?”

“Yes, they're gone. You scared them off when you fell. They thought you were a ghost.”

“If I didn't hurt so much I'd laugh. Am I bleeding?”

Meggie helped her into a sitting position and flashed the light over her face. Her disheveled hair hung over her eyes. Red streaks marked her skin.

“You have a scrape across your forehead. It's barely bleeding, but we better get you downstairs.”

Meggie knew she should run downstairs and call the authorities. It seemed heartless to leave her injured friend alone in the attic. The call would have to wait. After a bit of tugging, Meggie managed to get Shirley on her feet. Together they made their way down the stairs.

 

 

Later that evening after the authorities took their leave, the house was restored to order and all the doors were bolted. Both women had dressed for bed but were in no hurry to retire for the night.

Meggie checked on Brandy and quietly closed the bedroom door. She joined Shirley at the kitchen table. A cool breeze blew through the open window along with the gentle pitter-patter of rain. Nature's way of soothing nerves.

“I wonder what they were looking for.” Shirley spooned a bite of marble cake and vanilla ice cream into her mouth.

“I don't have any idea, but I'm pretty sure they didn't find it. And from the way they took off, I don't think they cared.” Meggie twirled the spoon in her ice cream. “I did tell the deputy that it sounded like the male intruder limped. I mentioned my suspicions about Simon. Maybe that information will help.”

“What did Molly say when you told her about the intruders?”

“She took the news hard. She wanted to come home right away, but I told her we would hold the fort down. There's nothing she could do if she did come home.”

Shirley finished her dessert and pushed the plate aside. “Remember when we first went up to the attic and I told you I heard someone yell? I don't think I imagined that. But why would they let us know they were here to rob the place?”

Meggie seemed lost in thought for several seconds. “Now that you mention it, I remember a couple years back when a customer came into the shop. She told a strange story.

Shirley pulled her chair closer to the table and propped her chin on her hand. “Nothing you can tell me will seem strange anymore. Spit it out.”

Meggie cleared her throat. “At the time she lived in the country not far from Pine Lake. It was during the summer. Evidently, she had been reading but grew tired and decided to call it a night. She set her book on the bedside table and turned the light off. She started to doze when she heard the front doorbell ring.”

“At first she thought it was her imagination playing tricks on her. Who would be visiting so late at night? But when the doorbell rang a second time she crawled out of bed and went to answer the door.”

“She peeked through the small window in the door but couldn't see anyone.”

“You mean there was no one there? I bet some neighborhood kids were out pulling pranks. Somebody's little angels had nothing better to do than ring doorbells late at night and take off running.”

Meggie shook her head. “The doorbell rang again so my neighbor inched the door open. Two young girls about eight or nine years old stood on the steps under the porch light with umbrellas extended in their hands.”

Shirley frowned. “What in the world were two young girls doing out so late at night?”

“That was the first thought that crossed her mind. The fact that it wasn't raining was the next thought to cross her mind.” Meggie paused and pushed her ice cream away. “One of the young girls asked the woman if she had seen their dog. But when the woman questioned them about the dog's description, they didn't answer her. They backed away from the door, turned and ran down the sidewalk out of sight.”

“That's strange. Why would two young girls ring a doorbell late at night, ask about their lost dog, and not wait around for an answer?” Shirley threw up her hands. “Not to mention they had umbrellas when it wasn't raining.”

“I didn't understand it at first either. But after thinking about it for a while, it all made sense. The whole thing was a ruse to find out if anyone was at home. I'm sure someone must have been waiting for those young girls on the road.”