Murder Is Our Mascot (12 page)

"No," Elsie said haltingly.

"But?" Emily asked, picking up on her hesitation.

"I found it odd that such a nice man, and not a bad-looking one either, if I do say so myself, was always alone. He needed a woman to take care of him. To feed him proper-like." Elsie patted her fire-engine red hair, and Emily hid a smile. Elsie was definitely old enough to be Jim's mother.

"So you never saw him with anyone? No best friend? No girlfriend?" Gabby frowned as she asked. As an inherently social creature, self-chosen solitude was a foreign concept to her.

"Nope. He always came in alone. He had a fondness for my coconut cream pie." Elsie sniffed again and waved over one of the hovering waitresses. "Bring me a slice of that coconut cream pie I just set out." As the waitress hurried away to do her bidding, Elsie turned back to Emily and Gabby. "In tribute to Jim." Emily nodded. She ached for this woman's genuine grief, but she had to find out something that would help Helen.

"Had Jim been acting differently before he left town? Did he ever seem troubled? Talk about any enemies?"

Elsie wiped meringue from the freshly delivered slice of pie off her lip, considering Emily's questions. "Nope. Jim had a kind word for everybody and never complained. He'd get some good-natured ribbing from other regulars when his boys lost a game, but he took that in stride. Like I said, Jim was a nice guy. Everyone liked him."

Emily chewed her lip. So far, the only thing she'd gained from this side trip to Elsie's was another pound or two on her hips thanks to the generous proportions and truly excellent pie. She watched Elsie scrape the last creamy bit off her plate, licking the fork. The waitress Elsie had called over before had returned with a check, and Gabby was reaching for her purse. Elsie stopped her. "This one's on the house," she told them.

"You don't have to do that," Gabby protested.

"But I do. Let me know if you find out anything about why someone would want to hurt poor Jim." Emily assured her they would, and after thanking her for lunch and her time once again, she and Gabby made their way out of the café into the afternoon sunshine.

"So what now?" Gabby asked, slipping on her sunglasses.

"I don't know. Home, I guess." Emily couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice as she turned to unlock the car. She was sliding into the driver's seat when she heard a "yoo-hoo" from behind her. She and Gabby both turned to see Elsie trotting after them, her apron flapping in the breeze.

"Whew." She leaned a hand against the car, catching her breath. "I thought of one thing I did find odd about Jim's behavior before he moved away."

"What?" Emily and Gabby asked in unison.

"Jim rented a little apartment near the school. I knew his landlord, and they were both happy with the arrangement. But a month or so before Jim moved, he was talking about buying a house. He ruffled a few feathers by going to several different realtors rather than sticking with one. But he seemed to have settled on a house. Even told me he'd put in an offer, and then the next thing I hear, he's packed up and moved away."

"Do you know what realtors he talked to or where the house was?" Emily asked.

Elsie shook her head. "No. Jim always kept things close to the vest. Like I said, a man on a mission."

Emily and Gabby thanked her again and watched her hurry back to her customers. "Should we check out the realtor offices?" Gabby asked.

"I don't know what good it would do. Jim never bought the house, and that was five years ago. It's getting late. We'd better head back. The girls will be wondering where you are."

"Yeah, I hate to be gone too late, what with Phoebe's cough yesterday and all."

They stopped to fill up with gas and grab a drink for the road, and then they were on their way home. Gabby called and checked in with Greg, and Phoebe was doing fine. Abigail, however, was now sporting a runny nose and her own cough. "Looks like another long night at my house." Emily looked over at her exhausted-looking friend. It was moments like this that she was grateful not to have the worry of a child. She couldn't imagine the frustration of not being able to "fix" them. But oh, how she one day hoped to have those worries.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Gabby gave her a tired smile. "I appreciate it, but no. It'll run its course soon enough. Our first hard freeze will help with the allergies."

"I'm sorry I drug you up here. Wish we had found out more."

"Oh, I don't think it was a waste of time. Let's look at what we did find out. We know that Jim came here from New York and there was some trouble surrounding his brother. Could that information have been discovered by someone in Ellington and been important, or sinister, enough to blackmail him over?"

Emily banged her fist lightly on the steering wheel in frustration. "That's a possibility, but why wait until now? Jim had been at Ellington almost six years."

"And what about what Elsie said about his sudden move when he was looking at buying a house?"

"I know. That's a puzzle to me, as well. I'm pretty sure he was a renter over there on Elm Street back home. I can't imagine what Jim could have in his past that was worth blackmailing him over. He seemed like such a nice, normal guy."

"That's what the neighbors always say about the psychotic killers that have been living next to them for years." Gabby yawned.

"True," Emily admitted. "But Jim was the one who was murdered, not the murderer."

"Yeah, but I think there was something to what Mrs. Quinton said about money. I'm worried she was talking about blackmail money. And that might make Helen a blackmailer, which is the exact opposite of what we believe. This playing Nancy Drew is hard." Gabby reclined her seat slightly. "What do you think, Em? Could we be wrong about Helen?"

"I still believe Helen is innocent. And the longer her disappearance lasts, I'm afraid the authorities will see her absence as her running from guilt. Helen doesn't have a single quality about her that makes me think she could be a blackmailer, let alone a murderer. But Mr. Barnes, on the other hand…he is one I can see blackmailing, or even offing, somebody."

"Offing? Is he related to Jimmy Hoffa? You have some major hatred for this guy, Em, and that is not like you."

"There's just something about him that oozes smarmy. And blackmailing is definitely smarmy. Besides, how else did he afford that new car of his?"

Emily heard a slight snore from the seat beside her. "Gabby?"

"Sorry. Mr. Barnes? I don't know. Family money?" Gabby's eyes drifted closed before she had even finished her sentence.

"Why don't you catch a cat nap? We can talk this over with Greg and Tad once we get home."

"You sure you don't mind?" Gabby asked, even as she reclined her seat further.

"Nope. You need the rest. You're in good hands." At that, Gabby sat up straight.

"You better mean that, Em. I remember vowing never to sleep in a car you were driving after that two-lane passing-on-a-hill stunt you tried back when we were teenagers."

Emily gave her a dry stare. "That was more than ten years ago, Gabby. But suit yourself."

"I didn't mean to insult you, but you have to admit that your driving record is not exactly stellar." Emily only gave a noncommittal shrug, so Gabby continued. "I have two kiddos who need me well and whole. Just saying."

"Just saying," Emily mimicked, but no one heard her. Gabby was already fast asleep.

Red and gold streaked across the twilight-blue sky as Emily hummed along to the radio that was playing quietly in accompaniment to Gabby's snores. Thoughts and facts about Jim's murder rained down in her mind like a ticker-tape parade. First and foremost was the question of where Helen could be. Her absence seemed to solidify her guilt, but Emily still didn't believe she was capable of committing a crime. Was she in trouble? How could they find her? Maybe Tad was right. Perhaps it would be better to leave this to the authorities and not get involved. What did she know about locating a missing person? Or solving a murder, for that matter? Yet even as she questioned her involvement, Emily knew that her need to protect those who mattered to her would never allow her to let this matter drop. Besides, what could asking a few questions hurt? There wasn't any harm in that.

The first blinding flash of headlights surprised her. The sky was a deep navy-blue now, and the glare of the lights behind her caused her vision to blur with dancing spots of white. This was a deserted stretch of road. Only a few farms were scattered over the next twenty or so miles. Traffic was typically light, and this evening was no exception. The person behind her had ample room to pass. To reinforce that point, Emily tapped her brakes. The headlights stayed squarely in her rearview mirror. Always prone to road rage, Emily's first thought was to have it out with the idiot behind her. She pressed down on her brakes again, prepared to pull over on the shoulder. The headlights started to pass her, and Emily determined to get this jerk's license plate. Before she was completely off the highway, however, the vehicle, which looked to be a dark-colored SUV, slammed into the back door of her PT, right behind her seat. Emily's tires bit into the gravel on the side of the road, seeking traction, while Emily wrestled with the steering wheel.

Gabby rocketed upright, eyes wild. "What's going on? Emily, I told you to be careful!"

She didn't have time to answer or defend herself as the vehicle that had rammed into her backed off, and she was able to slow her car enough to ease back into her lane. She reached for her phone in the console and tossed it at Gabby. "Call the police," she instructed, willing her voice to remain calm as the headlights once again loomed in her rearview mirror.

Gabby made no move to grab the phone, still disoriented from sleep. "What's going on?" she asked again.

The impact of the vehicle ramming them from behind had both of them straining against their locked seat belts. "This idiot is trying to run us off the road!" Emily gasped as she mashed down the accelerator, trying to put some distance between them and the maniacal SUV behind them.

As the speedometer edged toward eighty, Gabby managed to get hold of the phone. "Where are we?" she asked frantically, now fully awake and aware of the true danger they were in.

"About an hour outside Ellington," Emily said through gritted teeth. Topping the rise of a hill, Emily felt her tires temporarily lose contact with the pavement due to the speed at which they were now moving. "The double S curves around the Wiley farm are up ahead. I can't take those at ninety miles an hour."

Gabby let out a sob. "Pull over, Emily. Please."

"I can't," Emily told her. "There's no shoulder here." And there wasn't—only the steep decline to flatter ground far below. "Call the police. Now."

Gabby's fingers trembled as she fought to dial the number. Sweat poured down Emily's back as she flicked glances at her rearview mirror. The headlights were swallowing them up in their glare once again. Emily tried to press the accelerator even further down, but her PT was already giving it all she had. The SUV slammed into the back door again, and the sound of rending metal tore through the stillness of the night. Before Emily could even attempt any evasive maneuver, the SUV barreled into them again, finally forcing them off the road. Emily fought for control, trying to keep them upright. The decline was too steep, however, and the PT tilted up on its right side before slamming back to the ground. Despite her repeated attempts to stomp on the brakes, the vehicle only gained momentum as it skidded down the steep hill. There was no use for her to attempt to steer at this point, even though her hands remained locked on the steering wheel. She could hear Gabby shrieking beside her and felt her own eyes overflow with tears. The sounds of brush and tree limbs scraping down both sides of her vehicle sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but at least the brush slowed their momentum. Emily could only pray the tree limbs would bring the vehicle to a complete stop as her brakes were useless at this point. But then she saw the tree directly in front of them. She only had time to throw her body in Gabby's direction, trying to shield her, while covering her own face with her arms. The crash jarred every bone in her body. Her vision swam red…and then there was nothing but blackness.

* * *

Her alarm was going off again. Hadn't she hit snooze? The alarm continued to blare. How late was it? The sun was shining directly in her eyes. Only it wasn't her alarm. And it wasn't the sun. Emily was flat on her back, with a doctor shining a light in her eyes. The noise was actually the organized chaos of a bustling ER. Obviously, she was in a hospital. But why? She tried to push herself up to ask, but her arm exploded in flames. At least that's what her muddled brain told her. The doctor mercifully put away the light. Too confused to even form questions, Emily felt tears dripping down into her ears. A kind voice and a gentle hand appeared. The hand wiped at her tears, and the voice asked her if she knew where she was.

"It looks like a hospital. But my arm is on fire, and…I don't know why." Emily realized her voice was hoarse and whiny. She cleared her throat. "What happened?" Her question still came out sounding tiny and scared, but then, she reasoned, she felt tiny and scared. She had never liked hospitals, and thankfully, she'd never had to stay in one. She prayed that lucky streak wasn't about to end.

"You had an accident. A man found you and called the ambulance. The ambulance brought you here."

"An accident? Gabby! Where's Gabby?"

"Your friend is being treated in a separate room. She'll be fine. As will you. But the reason you feel like your arm is on fire is because you have a compound fracture. You'll be going into surgery soon. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

And then she remembered. The trip to Peculiar Bluffs. The car trying to run them off the road. The tree. "You're sure Gabby's okay?" she asked instead.

"She has a mild concussion, but she will be right as rain in no time." Gentle and sincere brown eyes looked directly into hers. "I promise."