Read Morning Glory Circle Online
Authors: Pamela Grandstaff
“We’ve talked to at least fifty people, and not one of them mentioned the deceased was a gossip, a troublemaker, or anything other than an exemplary citizen who will be dearly missed.”
“That’s because it was you doing the asking,” Scott said. “They won’t speak ill of anyone to an outsider.”
“Not even if it helps us catch a murderer who may be living among them?”
“This is a small town,” Scott said. “There are strict societal rules that must be followed in small communities. Unless you grew up here you couldn’t possibly understand.”
“So you should do all the asking, and I should just stand beside you and look pretty, is that it?”
“They probably won’t speak frankly with you even present, I’m afraid.”
“You know, this really is a freakish backwater of a burg. I don’t know how you stand it.”
“I grew up here,” Scott said. “People know me, know my character, and they trust me.”
Scott didn’t say that these exemplary qualities also sometimes made him the last person they’d call instead of the first.
“Alright, then,” Sarah said. “You and your team do the local interviews, and when you come up with something that points the way to the killer, you let me know.”
“You’re leaving?”
“There’s really no point in wasting any more of the time and resources of the sheriff’s office, is there?” she said. “We’ll oversee the post mortem and I’ll let you know what the results are, but I don’t see any point in banging my head against a wall if no one will tell me anything useful. See if you can come up with anything and let me know.”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Scott said. He couldn’t believe he’d got rid of her so easily.
“I’ll check in on you and see what progress you’re making,” Sarah said. “You can look on this as an opportunity if you’re smart about it. You solve this case and it will look very good on your application for a position with the county.”
“I have no desire to work for the sheriff,” Scott said. “I’m happy right where I am.”
Sarah shook her head.
“You’re skills are wasted in this town, just like they’re wasted on Maggie Fitzpatrick. How’s that going, by the way?”
“Maggie and I see each other.”
“Naked?”
“You know, Sarah, I would like to at least pretend that appropriate professional boundaries exist in our working relationship.”
“What are you, Amish?” Sarah said. “Real grown up people not only talk about sex, Scott, they sometimes even do it for no good reason except it feels so gosh darn swell. When was the last time someone rode you so long and hard you passed out afterward from pure pleasure? I’m betting it’s been a long, long time.”
Sarah leaned over his desk as she spoke, way too close for his comfort, and Scott sat back in his chair.
“I scare you to death, don’t I?” she said. “I’m exactly the kind of girl your mama warned you about.”
“I’m just not interested, Sarah,” Scott said. “I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but I love Maggie and I’m not going to do anything to screw that up.”
“You might think that,” Sarah said, “but I think it’s just a matter of time before you get tired of being rejected and give in to what you really want, what I know you really need. In fact, if you close the door right now I can prove it. I’ll have you flat on your back begging for mercy in two minutes. It would be so hot with us, Scott. I can feel it, can’t you?”
“I’ll let you know if I find out anything useful,” Scott said, then stood up and pointed through the open door.
“I’ll be in touch,” she called as she sailed out, smirking.
Scott sat back down, propped his elbows on the desk and held his head in his hands. The front door chimed and when he looked up his friend Ed was walking toward him, looking concerned.
“Your head alright?” Ed asked.
“Yeah,” Scott said. “It’s just Sarah.”
“That woman scares me a little bit.”
“She should,” Scott said. “Listen, I need a sounding board and I don’t want to be overheard. Care to take a walk with me?”
“You got it. I need to share some information with you anyway.”
The two men left the station, crossed the street, and headed up Peony Street toward Morning Glory Avenue. Scott told Ed about his morning spent interviewing people, and the less lurid details of the conversation with Sarah that followed.
“You can imagine how reluctant I am to share with Sarah the specifics of the deal I made with Margie,” Scott said. “When I did all that, it was with the best interests of her mother at heart; I had no way of knowing I’d be investigating her murder a few weeks later.”
“I wondered about that,” Ed said. “You know, not much goes on in this town that everyone doesn’t find out about. Are you afraid if you don’t tell Sarah someone else will?”
“That’s just the thing. We went around doing these interviews and no one breathed a word about it. I’m touched by their loyalty, but it worries me how willing they are to be complicit in a cover up.”
“No one was sorry to see Margie lose her job, and after they found out what she was doing to her mother she could not have found a sympathetic ear in this town. Everyone appreciates what you did for Enid, and I can’t imagine anyone would want you to get in trouble for doing it.”
“I did what I thought was right, but it was not exactly legal or through official channels. After Margie’s body was found I should have told Sarah right away what happened, but by doing that I would have given her all the ammunition she needs to get me fired. She would love to have that kind of power over me. If the people of this town protect me by not telling what happened, that’s great for me, but what if a killer gets away with murder as a result?”
“She just gave you carte blanche to investigate Margie’s murder,” Ed said. “So do that. Find out who killed her, arrest that person, and let the chips fall where they may. Then you will have done the right thing regardless of the outcome for you, personally.”
“You’re right. I just need to figure out who did it and if I have to tell the truth about the deal I made with Margie I will. I may lose my job, you know.”
“I know,” Ed said. “But that’s not the end of the world. We’d figure something out.”
“You need another paper carrier?”
“I’d fire Tommy tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Scott said. “You said you had some information?”
“Tony Delvecchio said his mother got a letter in the mail that upset her quite a bit. He thinks it was from Margie.”
“I better go talk to her.”
“He wants you to talk to him first, if you would.”
“I can do that. Is he at work?”
“No, he’s helping out in the PJ’s caravan down at the festival.”
“I need to go down there, anyway,” Scott said. “I’ll see if I can talk to him.”
“Listen,” Ed said. “I know something about Tony that I’ve been keeping in confidence. I don’t want to break that confidence if I don’t have to, but it may relate to this letter.”
“Is it something illegal he’s done?”
“No, it’s personal.”
“Then keep it to yourself for now. I’m beginning to regret relaxing my policy about listening to gossip. I already know way more than I want to about most of the people in this town.”
They parted ways at the top of the hill. Scott started back down toward the festival at the bottom of the hill, and Ed went to the library to look for a book about parenting adolescents.
Maggie was taking a short break during a lull when she saw her brother Sean walking through the crowd toward the caravan. She jumped out the back of the caravan and flung herself straight into his arms.
“Whoa!” he said, but picked her up and spun her around.
“What are you doing here?” she asked after he sat her back down.
“Well, you said you needed my help,” he said, “so here I am.”
Once inside the cramped quarters, Sean met Tommy, took off his coat and tied an apron over his black pants and charcoal-colored sweater. With his thick dark hair, bright blue eyes, and tall, elegant figure, Maggie thought he looked more like a male model than a corporate attorney.
“I’ve missed you at every turn this morning,” he said. “Everywhere I’ve been, you’d just been and left.”
“Where?” Maggie said. “Did you see Mom and Dad?”
“Yes,” he said, making himself at home, seated on a high stool. “I went to the house and you’d just left, then I went to the bakery and you’d just left, so I came down here.”
“What did Dad and Grandpa do when you showed up?” she asked.
“Well, Grandpa Tim cried, but it may be because I brought him a box of Cuban cigars, not knowing he’s been forbidden to smoke. Fitz took the bottle of Irish whiskey I brought him, said ‘don’t just stand there like an eejit, fetch us some glasses,’ and started pouring out shots, so it felt as if no time at all had passed.”
“And Mom?”
“Oh, she cried, Aunt Alice cried, and Mandy wondered who the hell I was until I introduced myself. Is she the one who’s sweet on Ed?”
“Yes,” Maggie said, gesturing subtly with her head at Tommy, “and Tommy is her son.”
“Ah, I see,” Sean nodded. “It’s fun to meet all these people you’ve been e-mailing me about.”
Just then the caravan rocked back and forth, knocking Sean off his stool and some of the baked goods from the display. Patrick flung open the back door and stood with his hands on his hips, regarding his brother and sister.
“In case you’ve forgotten, counselor,” he said to Sean. “The men in this family work in the bar and the gas station, and the womenfolk work in the bakery.”
Maggie protested, but Sean took off his apron and followed Patrick to the Rose and Thorn caravan next door. Maggie and Tommy replaced all the plastic wrapped baked goods in their neat rows, and then leaned out so they could see what the two brothers were doing. Sean was tying on a pub apron while Patrick showed him how to run the cash register. Considering all that had happened in their family in the past, and all that had come to light recently, that had been as good a greeting between the two brothers as Maggie could have hoped for.
“He looks like Patrick, but skinnier,” Tommy said.
“Don’t let Patrick hear you say that.”
“Why didn’t he ever visit before?”
“He was really busy with his job,” Maggie said. “But I think he’ll be back more now.”
“Do you think Brian will ever come back?”
“I don’t know,” Maggie said, although she devoutly hoped her oldest brother would stay away.
That was one family reunion for which she didn’t have high hopes.
Hannah returned to the caravan with a fresh load of baked goods and gossip. She had already forgotten she was mad at Maggie, having evened the score by staying away for two hours instead of one. She sent Tommy back to the bakery and shrugged off her coat.
“The latest scuttlebutt,” she said, “is that Margie was stabbed in her hard little heart, rolled down yon hill behind ye olde tire store, and landed where I found her. She was covered with a four foot drift, so it must have happened Monday night or early Tuesday morning, before we got the big storm.”
Both women turned their attention to some customers and then, as soon as they walked away, Maggie said, “Go on.”
“They found a cloth in the burn barrel behind the tire store that had been soaked in some chemical. When Frank smelled it he almost passed out. They think someone knocked her out with that and then stabbed her. They haven’t found a weapon.”
“Sounds like chloroform. That’s an old murder mystery classic, but I bet it’s not easy to come by.”
“It will be a few days before they have the toxicology report.”
“So it was someone with access to medical supplies or a scientific lab of some sort.”
Maggie mentally went through all the people she knew who were nurses or doctors. She didn’t know any scientists or lab technicians.
“Hey Nancy Drew, I can see your mind computing,” Hannah said, “but do you want to hear the rest?”
“Of course,” Maggie said.
“Ruthie was with Margie’s mother when Scott told her the sad news, and Enid’s reaction was interesting. She was upset of course, but she was also irritated with Margie for being killed. She said something like, ‘I told her if she didn’t keep her nose out of everyone’s business it would get cut off some day.’”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Scott couldn’t get anymore out of her, but Ruthie thinks Enid might know more.”
“I hope Ruthie keeps talking to her about it,” Maggie said.
“She said she would let us know if Enid said anything else,” Hannah said.
“We should go see her after all this is over,” Maggie said, gesturing to the festival.
Hannah’s husband Sam rolled up just then.
“I see you two putting your heads together and I know trouble will be sure to follow.”
Maggie thought he looked tired.
“How’s the mitten fishing?” she asked him.
“I think I’ve fished my limit,” he said, and then turned to his wife. “Can we go now?”