Murder Is Our Mascot (7 page)

Mrs. Quinton gave a regal nod. "That would be best, Helen dear. Our health should be one of our most guarded treasures." Emily nodded mutely. She and Gabby exchanged a look and Emily knew they were both thinking what a fragile thing health really was. Mrs. Quinton had clearly taken good care of her physical body, but her mind had had other ideas. They watched her work on her jigsaw puzzle for a while. She seemed to have forgotten the girls were there. The fire at her back was making Emily feel drowsy. She was wondering if they should even bring up Helen or slip quietly out of the room, when Mrs. Quinton looked up at her again.

"Oh, there you are, Helen. I was just asking that sweet receptionist when you were going to get here. Did you get the money?"

Emily and Gabby both scooted forward in their seats, excitement vibrating between them. Maybe they would find out something about Helen's whereabouts after all. "What money, Mother?" Emily asked quietly.

Mrs. Quinton started to answer and then stared at Emily blankly. Her eyes went from sharp and inquisitive to cloudy and unfocused. She reached over to grasp Emily's hand. Emily gripped her cool, gnarled hand. "I'm sorry, dear," the older woman looked at her with a confusion that broke Emily's heart. "Who did you say you were again?"

Emily answered gently, "We're friends of your daughter, Helen."

"Helen? I had a daughter named Helen. She was such a good daughter, always taking care of me." And with that, Mrs. Quinton went back to her puzzle. Emily locked eyes with Gabby, wondering if they should question her further or leave quietly. Gabby shook her head and motioned to the door.

Emily hesitated. She hated to leave Mrs. Quinton alone. Sure, she was in a wonderful facility, but if they didn't locate Helen, what would happen to her? Emily stooped to kiss her wrinkled cheek. Mrs. Quinton looked up at her with eyes that no longer viewed reality. She patted Emily's hand. "You're a good girl, Helen," she said softly.

Emily and Gabby were both silent as they left Serenity Falls. Shelley hailed them on their way out and asked if Mrs. Quinton was having a good day. Gabby told her that Mrs. Quinton had thought Emily was her daughter and asked Shelley to please contact them if anyone at the facility heard from Helen. Shelley promised to let them know, taking down their names and numbers.

Back in the minivan, Emily stared at the leaden sky, which looked as heavy as her heart felt. Gabby started the ignition and said, "Well, that was certainly—"

"Depressing," Emily finished for her.

"Actually, I was going to say enlightening," Gabby corrected her. Emily slurped her soda, which was now watered down, and stared at Gabby.

"How so?" she asked.

"The money!" Gabby's eyes were shining with excitement, but Emily was not on the same wavelength.

"The money? Oh, you mean when Mrs. Quinton asked Helen—I mean, me as Helen—about whether she had gotten the money?"

"Of course." Gabby nodded, turning on the wipers, as the first raindrops began to splatter her windshield. "It makes perfect sense."

Emily chewed on her straw, trying to puzzle out what Gabby was seeing that she wasn't. "I assumed her comments were part of the ramblings of a deteriorating mind. I take it you didn't?"

"No, not at all. Did you see that place? It has to be costing Helen a fortune to keep her mom there. Where is she getting that kind of money? Not from being a counselor at the local high school, unless you guys have suddenly gotten astronomical raises." She quirked an eyebrow Emily's way. Emily merely snorted. "That's what I thought. So Helen had to be getting the money from somewhere. She disappeared the same evening Jim Layton was killed. What if Helen was blackmailing Jim? Maybe she threatened to turn him over if he didn't pay up, and when he still refused, she snapped and killed him." Gabby looked quite smug about her deductive reasoning capabilities.

Emily almost hated to burst her bubble as she said, "But that doesn't make sense. If Helen was blackmailing Jim, she wouldn't kill off her money source. It would be more likely that Jim would hurt Helen to get her off his back. And for that matter, what could Helen possibly have on Jim anyway?"

Gabby pouted. "You're right. I guess it doesn't make sense after all."

Emily reached over to hug her as they pulled back into the school parking lot. "I think you're right about the money being important, though."

"You do?" Gabby looked hopeful again.

Emily nodded, climbing out of the minivan into the drizzling rain. "Want to do some checking and see how much it would cost to house someone at Serenity Falls?"

"Absolutely! I'll call you tomorrow. Right now I have to go get the twins before they tie Greg's mom into a pretzel." But Gabby waited until Emily was safely in her own car before pulling out of the now-empty lot. Gabby turned one way. Emily went the other.

* * *

There was no one waiting for Emily at home. Helen and Duke weren't even next door. Her mind was spinning with ideas of money and blackmail and murder, all of which still seemed surreal. Not ready to be alone with her thoughts, Emily changed course and swung by her parents' house instead.

Parking in front of the large, pale-yellow Victorian home in which she'd been raised, Emily felt a glow of pride. She'd loved growing up in this big, old, creaky house that always needed something fixed. Even as a child, Emily had stared at her walls at night, painted a periwinkle blue back then, and wondered what stories this house could tell. Smiling to herself, knowing she had never let go of that childhood notion, she let herself in the back kitchen door. Something burbled on the stove. Pausing, she took a long sniff. Yum…Dad's chili. Maybe she could wrangle an invitation to dinner. Taking the two steps down into the family room, Emily saw her mother seated in her favorite rocking chair. Her head was bent over her work, the floor lamp behind her casting her in a pool of light. So intent was she on her clacking knitting needles that she didn't even notice Emily until she plopped down on the couch across from her. Glancing up, her mom dropped her knitting and pressed a hand to her heart.

"Em! You scared me."

"Sorry, Mom. I assumed you heard me come in the kitchen door." Emily was surprised at her mom's reaction. She had never known her mom to be scared of anything. Just went to show how murder in a small town like theirs could put everyone on edge.

"Have you heard anything from Helen?"

"No, but I was hoping maybe you had." Emily hated to see her mom hurting like this, but she had to ask her some tough questions.

Emily scooted forward on the couch, looking her mom in the eye. "I have to ask you something that might upset you. Gabby and I went out to Serenity Falls today to see if we could find out anything about Helen." Her mom's eyes glowed with hope. But as Emily continued, that glow faded. "Helen has not been seen there for the past two days, which is obviously out of character. We visited with Mrs. Quinton and, in what appeared to be a fairly lucid moment, she asked me if I had the money."

Her mom gave her a blank stare. "Mrs. Quinton doesn't even know you, Emily, so why would she be asking you about money?"

Emily fidgeted in her seat. "Well, that's the thing. She kind of thought I was Helen?" Her statement came out sounding more like a question.

Her mom surged to her feet. "You pretended to be her own daughter?"

Emily hopped up too. "No, Mom! It wasn't like that. She mistook me for Helen." Her mom didn't answer, but she stormed up the steps into the kitchen. Giving the chili a violent stir, she turned to glare at Emily. It was clear she knew there were more disturbing questions to come.

Hanging back in the doorway, Emily quietly asked, "Is there any way Helen could have been blackmailing someone, Mom? Someone like Coach Layton?" At her mom's narrowed eyes, Emily rushed on. "I mean, have you seen Serenity Falls? It must cost Helen a small fortune to keep her mother out there. She had to be getting the money from somewhere."

Her mom sighed, leaning back on the counter beside the stove. "Em, I don't know what to think anymore. I never thought my own daughter would find a dead person in the school where she grew up and now teaches. Life is full of surprises. But Helen as a blackmailer? She's a proud woman and probably wouldn't have asked for help even if she needed it, but you know as well as I do that Helen is as ethical as they come."

Emily moved forward and hugged her mom. "I do know that, Mom, but I had to ask. I hope you understand." When her mom finally hugged her back, Emily assumed all was forgiven. Taking one last longing look at the chili, Emily decided it would be best if she headed home. Giving her mom one last squeeze, Emily slipped out the back door. Twilight had settled over the backyard, but a light was shining in her dad's small workshop. Making a quick detour, Emily cut across the yard to see what new project her dad was working on.

Pushing open the door, she inhaled the scent of sawdust. It was a smell she had always associated with her dad. He had piddled in woodworking out in the garage all the years he had taught, but when he finally retired, he set up shop back here in his own space. Emily suspected that this place was also his refuge from some of her mom's zanier craft projects. Her dad finished sawing through a board, the whine of the saw reverberating in the small room. Then he pushed his safety glasses up on his head and said, "Hey, Pumpkin! What brings you by?"

He held out his arms for a hug, and Emily stepped into his warm embrace. She had always been daddy's little girl, and she wasn't ashamed to admit it. "I was quizzing Mom about Helen." At her dad's puzzled frown, she told him about her and Gabby's trip out to Serenity Falls.

When she'd finished, her dad scratched his chin. "Sounds like the money has to figure in somewhere, but if you truly believe Helen's disappearance is tied to the coach's death, doesn't it make more sense to me to dig into his past rather than Helen's?"

Emily stared bug eyed at her dad. Was he honestly encouraging her to investigate a murder? Seeing her look of disbelief, he hastened to add, "I mean, I don't want you physically involved in any sort of investigation. I just meant doing some Internet research. Theodore is excellent at ferreting out such information." And there it was. Once again, her dad was pushing her toward Tad. Emily started to make a sarcastic comment but then stopped to consider what her dad had said. Researching Jim did make sense, and Tad
was
a computer nerd.

"Okay." She shrugged at her dad. "I'll ask him tomorrow at school."

Her dad examined the board he had cut. "Or you could call him now," he suggested. Emily rolled her eyes and dropped a quick kiss on her dad's stubble-covered cheek.

"I'll keep you updated," she called over her shoulder, once again stepping out into the night. The first stars were pushing through the navy velvet of the sky, and the moon looked hazy behind its thin veil of clouds. Emily headed toward her car, pulling her phone from her pocket. Enjoying the cool night air, she paced the sidewalk, where she had punished her knees and elbows while learning to roller-skate and ride her bike, waiting for Tad to pick up. When he finally did, he sounded out of breath.

"Hey, Pit," he panted.

"Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"No, I just got back from a run and was headed to the shower."

Heat flooded Emily's face at the thought of Tad in the shower. Naked. Steamy. And where had that come from? Thankful Tad couldn't see her, she stammered, "Okay, good, well, I'll keep this short." She commanded herself to get it together, listening to Tad's low chuckle. "As you know already, Gabby and I went out to Serenity Falls this afternoon." Tad gave a small grunt, but Emily steamrolled right over his disapproval, explaining what they had found. "So"—she paused for a second—"I was wondering if you could help me by doing some research into Jim's past," she said in one breath.

"Sure," Tad replied, and Emily let out a whoosh of relief. "On one condition," he continued. Uh-oh. Emily frowned at the phone in her hand.

"What condition?" she demanded suspiciously.

"You come over to dinner in a couple of hours so we can discuss what I find."

Caught off guard, Emily mumbled, "Okay." Then, straightening her shoulders, she asked, "What can I bring?"

"Nothing. I've got everything I need. You can help toss the salad when you get here." Before Emily could agree, or even respond, the line went dead and Tad was gone. She might not be getting her chili, but she was still getting dinner, so she guessed a gal couldn't complain.

Stepping out of the shower, Emily could feel the silence wrap around her like a blanket. Normally, she found such silence soothing, like a favorite quilt she could wrap herself up in and feel safe. But knowing that Helen was missing and Jim was dead, the silence felt like it was smothering her, a sheet covering her eyes and ears. She turned up the music on her iPod to penetrate the silence and then stood staring into her closet.

After a few minutes of unproductive shuffling of the hangers, she gave up and called Gabby, who sounded breathless and frustrated.

"Hey! I haven't had a chance to look into the cost of Serenity Falls yet. The girls have been—" Emily heard loud barks resonate down the phone line. "Sorry, Em. As I was saying—Abigail and Phoebe, you leave that poor dog alone right now!" Emily was about to offer to call back later when she heard a rich baritone in the background.

"Ah, Greg's home. He can have his turn with the little tormentors. I'm all yours. What's up?"

"I wasn't calling about Serenity Falls, though we do need to look into that. I was actually looking for an emergency consult."

Emily could practically feel Gabby's shoulders snap to attention. "What for—hair? Shoes? Clothes? Men? Murder?"

Emily laughed and realized it felt good to do so. "Clothes. I'm meeting Tad at his place for dinner, and…You'd better not be giggling, Gabriella Marie," Emily warned.

Gabby cleared her throat. "Of course not. Please continue."

Emily ignored her continued snickers. "Anyway, we're meeting to discuss some research into Jim's past that he's doing for us. So do I dress professionally? Casually? What?"