False Impressions (18 page)

April came back into the kitchen. Kit had picked up a scraper
and was poking halfheartedly at the wallpaper. She wasn’t removing much, but she probably felt like she was trying. April found another flat blade and joined her at the wall. She pulled off tendrils of the paper. It was just like peeling off a sunburn without that awful pain when you’ve gone too far.

Working side by side in silence, April composed her thoughts. Kit was hiding something, something she was afraid had gotten her uncle killed. April thought she knew what it was.

“Did you see J.B. before the night he died?”

Kit’s hands flew up to cover her mouth as she emitted a small cry. Small as a newborn’s.

She shook her head, her hair swinging and hiding her face. April turned to face Kit, who put her blade to wall and rubbed harder.

“Kit, I saw the box that you made for J.B.’s cremains. It’s beautiful, full of life and spirit. Whoever made that box was happy, jubilant, not sad.”

Kit’s fingers clenched the blade so tight that her knuckles turned white.

“You knew he was alive when you made that box,” April said. “When everyone else thought he was dead, you knew he was alive.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Kit shielded her face and scraped harder. Bits of dry-wall flew from under her blade. She was going to seriously damage the wall if she pressed any harder.

April stilled her hand. “Look at me.”

The burden of carrying around this secret dropped Kit to her knees.

“Does Logan know? Your mother?”

“Only Logan. J.B. said I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Kit’s lashes were dewed with tears, and she fought to control her trembling hands. She picked at a piece of glue stuck to the wall.

She stopped, her eyes going out of focus. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears, and she stopped after each syllable.

“About a week after the explosion, J.B. came to the back door. I was so glad to see him. I let him right in. I went to call Mom, but he stopped me. He said people, bad people, were looking for him. It was too dangerous for him. Said he would go away for a while, but he would come again.”

April said, “And did he?”

She nodded, her fingers entwined. She pulled on each one as if to crack the knuckle, without success. “Just after Christmas. He was clean and sober but needed a little more time before he could see my mother. He’d hurt her so much over the years, and he really wanted to make up for what he’d done. He wanted to have his one-year sobriety pin before he came back to us. He was working through his twelve steps. His anniversary date would have been March first.”

Six weeks away. He’d gotten so close. April said, “Did he mention Tina?”

At Kit’s blank look, April realized she hadn’t told her about her uncle’s girlfriend. She didn’t think Kit could handle that information right now. Still, she had a right to know.

“He was living with a woman,” April said.

“A friend?”

“More than a friend. She took good care of him.”

Kit smiled. “That was obvious when I saw him. He looked so good, didn’t he? I mean, he was well fed. His hair looked healthy.” She laughed at April’s reaction. “Well, it did. He used to have great hair.” Her voice broke. “I hope my kids have his hair.”

April decided to wait to tell Kit about Tina’s pregnancy. They should meet first.

“Did she love him?” Kit asked.

April nodded. “Seems like they loved each other.”

Kit closed her eyes. “So he had a little peace.”

“Yes.”

Kit surprised her, grabbing April by the shoulders. Her eyes were shining, and her mouth was set in a grim line. April wondered what happened to the happy woman she’d first met when she’d returned to Aldenville. Kit had been through a lot since then, and it showed on her face.

“I want to know who killed him, April. Not knowing has left a giant hole in my heart. It hurts to breathe.”

Kit went quiet. April gently extricated herself and wetted a paper towel with cold water and handed it to Kit. She wiped her eyes and sat on the floor. April pulled up a plastic bucket and sat down.

“I’m a mess. I need to know what happened.” She looked at April. April couldn’t look away from her desperate face.

“What happened the night of your bachelorette party?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said at the hospital . . .”

“My mother has a lot to answer for.” Kit’s eyes filled again. She hiccupped and caught her breath. April let her calm down before gently prodding again.

“Your party—what happened?”

“It was the weekend before the wedding. I got drunk. My girlfriends, who were driving, got even drunker. Logan was out at his bachelor party in the Poconos. I called J.B. to come get me and sneak me back into the house.”

April could imagine the rest. Mary Lou would not have been happy with an underage drunk bride-to-be.

Kit picked up her sweatshirt string and twisted it in her fingers. “I didn’t know he’d been drinking. He drove us into a light pole on Main Street. Mom and Dad had to come and get us. We were okay, although I had to go to my wedding with a fat lip. Mom didn’t let him explain. She just threw him out.”

April winced. That’s when his life on the street began. And soon after that, he got involved with the meth gang.

“She was so mean that night. Stood by while he packed his stuff, then took him to the bus station. Told him not to come back. I wanted him at the wedding, but Logan took Mom’s side. He thought J.B. was a bad influence. Everyone wanted me to stay away from him.”

She gave April a shy smile. “But we managed to stay in touch.”

“How?”

Her body relaxed, and she leaned her head back. “J.B. loved spy stuff. He had me reading Ian Fleming and watching James Bond movies when I was a kid. He taught me how to do secret writing and would leave me notes all over the house. We had our own code.

“It was just for fun until she threw him out. But then I was desperate to hear from him. The day before my wedding, I found a chalk mark on the tree outside my window. I knew what that meant. Spies use them all the time to indicate a message is in place.”

She leaned forward. “I had to search, but I finally found the drop. He’d left a wedding gift for me in an old metal milk crate in the shed.”

April wasn’t that familiar with spy protocol. “So he would leave a mark somewhere and then leave you a package?”

“Or a message. The thing is it was always in the same spot. If I saw a yellow mark on my maple, I knew to check the shed for something from J.B.”

April understood now. “And that’s what you did, after the explosion?”

Kit looked forlorn. “I thought he was dead like everyone else. When I saw the mark on the tree, I thought it was an old one at first. I never went out to the shed. Then he came by the house when I was there alone.”

“So you knew he was alive?”

“Yup. He had to take that chance and show himself to me. After that we used our system.”

The girl had a lot more gumption than April had given her credit. “So how often have you two been in touch in the last year?”

“Only a few times. Then Mom found this place. I wasn’t happy about it. I was worried that would be the end of my notes from him. Once I’d told J.B. where to find me, I felt better.”

And then he came here and was murdered, April added silently.

Kit was thinking along the same lines. “If I hadn’t brought him here . . .”

“Let’s think about this. Did he have any other enemies? What about old girlfriends? Did he do other illegal stuff? Maybe his accomplices?”

“No, he was never on the wrong side of the law. I mean, yes, traffic tickets and a DWI, but never anything serious. Yost tried to help him, keep him out of serious trouble.”

Officer Yost was always looking out for Mary Lou’s family.

Kit said quietly, “I don’t think my uncle was making meth.”

April was quiet. She knew Kit didn’t want to believe. “What if I found out he was?”

“I don’t think he was a saint. Believe me, I know he wasn’t.”

“But Kit, Officer Yost, your mother, they think he was involved with the meth house.”

“It all leads to the same place, doesn’t it? I want to know my uncle. Good and bad. It’s who he is . . . was.” Kit laid a hand on April’s arm. “Just find out for me. Find out who did this to my uncle.”

April had one more question to ask Kit. “Did he get to your parents’ house that night?”

Kit shook her head sadly. “Nope. My mom said she never saw him.”

 

April left Kit’s wondering what else J.B. had left behind for
them to find. A trip to Mary Lou’s shed was in order. But first stamping. And like J.B., she’d have to wait for the cover of darkness.

Later that night, April pulled into the drive of the Wysocki
house on Main Street. She’d worked all afternoon on stamps and had a dozen ready. She hated working that fast, but she had to admit she liked what she’d come up with.

Violet’s dad was standing with her in the doorway behind a full glass storm door. He held the door open and gestured April in.

“Hi, Dr. Wysocki,” April said. She peeked into the kitchen. She and Violet had done homework at that breakfast bar. It had been shiny and new back then, and they had spun the stools until Violet’s mother begged them to stop.

Dr. Wysocki handed April a still warm batch of brownies. “My wife made these for you to take to your meeting. Have fun, girls.”

He gave Violet a peck on the cheek and a little push. April remembered their first day of first grade; Violet had greeted the new teacher like a peer. No one had had to shove her out the door in those days.

Violet crossed her legs under herself on April’s car seat and bounced her knees incessantly.

April’s phone rang. It was Deana.

She said, “Just so you know, Mary Lou is here, at Rocky’s.”

April hadn’t expected that. It was so soon after J.B.’s death. And the news of his murder.

Deana understood. “She wants to be around us. She wants to lose herself in stamping for a few hours with people who love her.”

“I’ve already picked up Violet,” April said, stealing a glance at her passenger. She wasn’t paying attention to her call. “I promised to bring her. Besides, I have the stamps we’re going to be working on. Rocky will be without samples for the Ice Festival if I don’t show.”

“I know. I just thought you’d want a heads-up.”

“Thanks,” April said. Deana was always looking out for her.

She drove to the end of Main Street, but instead of turning left toward Rocky’s, she kept going. Mary Lou was at stamping. Her husband was probably at the council work meeting. This was the perfect time to go by Mary Lou’s house and see if she could find out whether J.B. had left another message for Kit the night he died.

She pulled up to the big two-story a few minutes later. Yards here were big, well over a half acre. The houses had been built for ultimate privacy, with few windows overlooking their neighbors. The house to the right had a tall wooden privacy fence surrounding it. She parked in the drive. The shed wasn’t visible.

Violet roused herself. She looked out her window and said, “Is this it? The house is so dark. Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?”

“Hmm,” April said. “I thought it was here. Let me go around the back and check. Maybe they’re in the basement. Stay in the car.”

April turned the corner at the back of the house. Motion detection lights came on, startling her. She threw up her hand to shade her eyes. She glanced back to see if Violet had noticed. She couldn’t see the car from here so she presumed Violet couldn’t see her. She picked up her pace. She had to get in and out of the shed before Violet—or someone else—got suspicious.

April walked toward the shed. She guessed this was where they stored the snowblower because the brick path leading to the little building was completely clear of snow.

Still, she felt eyes on her. Probably just Violet. She tried to look as if she was on a mission. She rehearsed an excuse in case a nosy neighbor stopped her. She’d say Mary Lou had asked her to get something from the shed. Some kind of tool. An auger.

What the heck was an auger? She had no idea.

She got up to the outbuilding. It was big, at least ten by ten. It sat on its own concrete pad at the far end of the property, a couple of football fields away from the house.

A big padlock sat on the hasp of the door. April blew on her hands. Mary Lou’s backyard was exposed to the wind, and she was getting cold fast. The lock was a combination style. She grabbed it, trying to remember Mary Lou’s birthday, hoping the combination was that easy.

The lock opened in her hand. It hadn’t been closed.

She let herself in. The space was full and had a chemical smell from the bags of fertilizer that were stored there. She picked her way past the snowblower and various shovels. The lawn mower was under a tarp.