Morning Glory Circle (4 page)

“His brother says they’re having such a great time that they’re extending their vacation by two weeks.”

“Do you think he’s spending all this time persuading her not to press charges?”

“I don’t know if she even remembers the accident; I haven’t been able to talk to her. As soon as she was released from the hospital he whisked her off on this vacation.”

“I wouldn’t stand too close to the railing on that cruise ship if I were her.”

Scott snagged another doughnut and left the office. He turned right and crossed the alley where Theo’s murderer had followed him the night he died, and passed the new antique store that was slated to open later in the spring. The new owners had poured tons of money into renovating the place but had been strangely absent so far. There was a narrow walkway between that building and the next, where newspaper carrier Tommy had hidden the night of Theo’s murder, and had seen almost everything that happened. He had been too afraid to tell anyone for fear of the killer harming him and his mother. He kept that horrible secret until the day he was almost run over in the alley as the murderer fled town.

Tony Delvecchio was on the phone when Scott entered the agency, which was on the ground floor. The floors above the office held apartments most often rented to Eldridge College students. Tony was a few years older than Scott, and had been a basketball star at Rose Hill High School. He was one of Sal Delvecchio’s sons, all of whom owned businesses in the town. His oldest brother Sonny owned the hardware store, his older brother Matt owned the IGA grocery, and his younger brother Paul and wife Julie owned PJ’s Pizza. Their father Sal was a very small, unattractive man married to a very tall, Sophia Loren-like beauty named Antonia. All the sons had inherited their mother’s height, but only Tony had been lucky enough to inherit her beautiful features as well. He was the only unmarried brother and still lived at home with his parents.

“Hey Scott,” Tony said, as soon as he got off the phone. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, Tony, how about yourself?”

“I can’t complain,” Tony said, and then gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.”

Scott sat down and told Tony what was going on with Enid and Margie, and what he had heard from Ed.

“So, is that pretty much what happened, or is there more?” Scott asked when he was finished.

“That’s about it,” Tony said. “It’s pretty late in the game for her to be looking for life insurance, and no one would underwrite the policy, considering her mother’s age and medical condition.”

“Margie is known to do some strange things. I didn’t know until a few weeks ago that she was tampering with the mail.”

“I had mail go missing, so much so that I got a post office box in Pendleton several years ago. A lot of Rose Hill folks have Pendleton P.O. boxes on account of Margie.”

“I feel awful about that,” Scott said. “Sarah Albright, from the sheriff’s office, is always telling me I need to listen to gossip if I want to find out what’s really going on in this town. I hate that Margie proved her right.”

“I think it would be hard to sift the truth from the lies around here,” Tony said. “Margie likes to embellish quite a bit, from what I understand.”

“How did she seem the day she was in here?”

“This may sound weird, but I want to say she seemed smug. Like she had a secret and was enjoying it.”

“Other than the policy business, did she say anything else?”

Tony hesitated before he spoke.

“She did make some odd remarks. At the time I didn’t think it meant anything, but since then I’ve heard some of the gossip going ‘round about her, and it makes what she said seem more sinister.”

Scott listened patiently, which was something he did better than most. He had a high tolerance for the long silences that allowed people to decide to disclose information.

“She was angry that I wouldn’t write the policy. Even though I told her I just brokered policies, I didn’t personally underwrite them, she seemed to think I would personally put up the money for her mother. She argued with me about it. I thought she just didn’t understand how my business worked, but before she left she said something that, upon reflection, sounded almost like a threat of some sort.”

Scott just nodded and waited.

“It was probably nothing,” Tony said. “I feel stupid even repeating it. I may have misunderstood.”

Scott listened patiently but said nothing.

“She said I should think about my decision and get back to her. I said there was nothing to think about, it was a business decision. She said I should give it some more thought. Then she said she hoped my mother’s heart wasn’t broken by the kind of life I was leading.”

Scott’s curiosity was definitely piqued but he let the silence do its work.

“At the time I thought she meant my mother would be ashamed of me for not helping her out. I told her there was no way I would personally underwrite a policy on her mother and she left in a huff. When I look back on it now, though, I wonder if she wasn’t trying to blackmail me into underwriting a policy and that if I refused she would tell my mother something about me that I wouldn’t want her to know.”

“And is there something?”

Tony’s face flushed, and he seemed agitated, but even after a long, uncomfortable silence he wouldn’t say more. Scott realized he was going to have to help him over the next hurdle.

“I’m a police officer, Tony, but you and I have known each other our whole lives. If it’s just something embarrassing and not criminal I can be counted on to be discreet. If it’s criminal you need to tell a lawyer, a priest, or both.”

“It’s not criminal and I’m not embarrassed about it, it’s just nobody’s business but my own,” Tony said.

“Whatever it is, how could Margie know about it? You said you switched mail deliveries so she didn’t have access to your mail.”

“She walks around late at night. You know that, right?”

“I’ve heard that, but I’ve never run into her.”

“She probably hides from you. I think she must do a lot of hiding and watching.”

“So you think she saw you doing something?”

“I think she saw me with someone, and speculated about what was going on.”

“You’re right, that’s nobody else’s business,” Scott said. “Consenting adults and so forth.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I appreciate your confidence in me, and it will go no further. I’m not a bit surprised, by the way, that she would threaten to blackmail you to get what she wanted. She’s a real piece of work.”

“This town,” Tony said. “If it isn’t busybodies using police scanners to listen in on your phone calls, it’s nosy parkers roaming the streets after dark looking for ways to blackmail you.”

“And people think I have an easy job,” Scott said.

“Not me,” Tony said. “I don’t know how you do it. Between the small town politics and the freelance critics we’ve got in this town…”

“I appreciate your sympathy,” Scott said, and rose to leave.

“Anytime,” Tony said, and shook Scott’s hand.

“When did this happen?” Scott asked him, as they walked toward the door. “When was Margie here?”

“Last week. I’m pretty sure it was Wednesday.”

“Have you seen her since?”

“No,” Tony said. “I haven’t been out late at night, though, since I realized she might be following me.”

“If you do see her give me a call,” Scott said. “I’d like to catch her in the act and give her a good scare.”

“Will do,” Tony promised, and Scott left with a wave.

Scott walked back up Pine Mountain Road past the newspaper office to Fitzpatrick’s Bakery, where owner Bonnie Fitzpatrick was waiting on a long line of customers crowding the counter. Ed’s number one fan, Mandy, was ringing up their orders. In the back, Scott could see Alice Fitzpatrick, Bonnie’s sister-in-law, taking multiple trays of flaky golden brown turnovers out of one of the commercial ovens.

Maggie’s mother Bonnie was a sturdy woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, steely blue eyes, white curly hair, and an accusatory look. She raised an eyebrow at Scott in a greeting that felt more like a warning, as if to say, “don’t you start with me.” Scott stood to the side out of the way and waited.

“What’ll it be?” she asked him, once the line had dissipated.

“Have you seen Margie Estep today?” he asked both Bonnie and Mandy. “Enid moved to Mountain View this morning, and she says Margie went out early this morning and didn’t come back.”

“Maybe she’s done away with herself,” Bonnie said. “You better start dragging the river.”

“I don’t think we need to jump to any dire conclusions yet,” Scott said.

“Maybe she had a breakfast date,” Mandy suggested, but Bonnie scoffed at that notion.

“If she did, it will be the first date she’s ever had.”

Bonnie poured Scott a cup of coffee to go and motioned for him to follow her out the front door. 

“I’d like to know what’s going on between you and my daughter,” she said once they were outside.

“I’m crazy about her, Bonnie, you know that.”

“You know how I felt about that last one,” she said. “The first time he came in here sniffing around our girl I knew it would end in tears. I saw right through him but Mary Margaret thought he could do no wrong. With those big dark eyes he looked just like a gypsy, and he stole her away from us, just like a gypsy would.”

“He was a good friend of mine,” Scott said. “He fooled me too.”

“I thought after he left she’d eventually get married, maybe give me some more grandchildren, but it looks like she’s never going to.”

“I think she’ll come around, given time. I’m willing to wait.”

“I hope you aren’t going to tempt her to live in sin as well.”

“I’ll take her any way she’ll have me. I’m sorry if that offends you.”

“Well, that’s honest, at least,” she said, crossing her arms. “Stupid, stubborn girl. I don’t know why you bother.”

“Same reason Fitz bothered when he was chasing you around this town,” Scott teased her. “We both have a weakness for bossy redheads with bad tempers. I bet you’re a good kisser too.”

“Watch your mouth, sonny Jim,” she warned, but then she winked at him. “I only let Fitz think he was the one doing the chasing. That’s the trick.”

Scott kissed her on the cheek before she went back inside.

The whole town was gearing up for the Winter Festival, and Mayor Stuart Machalvie was supervising the raising of two banners above the crossroads of Rose Hill Avenue and Pine Mountain Road. Route 1 brought tourists south from the four-lane highway and then turned into Rose Hill Avenue, and Pine Mountain Road took them east from the Little Bear River up over Pine Mountain on a winding two lane road past the state park to the Glencora Ski Resort. The Winter Festival drew a big crowd, and that crowd brought a lot of money into town. The main goal of the festival was to extract as much of that money as possible before they left.

The mayor flagged Scott down.

“I’ve had a brilliant idea,” Stuart said.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Scott said, but his sarcasm seemed to be lost on the mayor.

“As you know,” Stuart said, “the town council picks a Snow Queen to rein over all the festivities. She’s crowned on Friday night at the bonfire, leads the parade Saturday morning, and judges the baking competition on Sunday.”

“I’ve only been to about three dozen of these festivals, Stuart, but I do remember what happens.”

“So what lucky gal do you think I have lined up to be our Princess of Precipitation this year?”

“Isn’t it usually one of your relatives?”

“That’s not fair, Scott. It isn’t always a relative, just frequently. The women in my family just tend to be naturally vivacious. I can’t help that.”

“Well, which one is it this year?”

“It’s not a relative of mine, I swear to you. I’ll give you some clues and see if you can’t guess. Who is a new resident of Rose Hill?”

“The young couple opening the antique store?”

“No, no, no. Who is a new, influential person, a fine lady who I am anxious should feel welcome and at home here in Rose Hill?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would! I have! It’s all fixed up. I’m going to make the announcement later today. Hold a press conference and everything.”

“I see many flaws in your scheme.”

“Such as?”

“Well for one thing, Gwyneth Eldridge won’t do it. She hates anything small town or quaint, and she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a sash and riding a fire truck down Rose Hill Avenue.”

“She might, given the right persuasion. Say, if she knew the town council vote was unanimous, or that her picture would be on the front page of the local newspaper.”

“She probably hasn’t successfully digested a carbohydrate in thirty years, Stuart. She’s not going to taste twenty pies.”

“She can preside over the contest, and let the city council taste and judge.”

“She’s over forty.”

“There’s no age requirement; I looked it up.”