Walleye Junction (24 page)

“Anyway, the Winfrey family is a strange little clan. Too many cherries in their diet,” Dot laughed. “Too many tarts.”

“Do you think Lucy was a tart?”

Dot waited a few seconds before answering. “I heard things about Lucy, but then again I also heard things about you. That stuff that Caleb said at the funeral. It was all anyone talked about for years.”

“It wasn't true.”

An eyebrow shot up. “Not even one little bit?”

“Lucy and I were close, but not in that way.”

“She really was an odd little bird then,” said Dot. “I heard she wrote about your sexual intimacy in great detail.”

Emma didn't want Dot or anyone else to know how much it still stung. She kept her voice steady. She even smiled.

“Lucy made it all up,” said Emma. “It never happened.”

“Don't worry,” said Dot as she reached over and squeezed Emma's hand. “I believe you. I saw another side of Lucy when she worked for me. I take it that your mother told you that it ended badly.”

“Yes, but she didn't know why.”

Dot leaned back in her chair and sipped her wine.

“It all seems a long time ago now,” said Dot.

“Was it drugs?”

“I'm sure that was a factor. She probably needed the money. At first it was little things that were missing, like jewelry. I started to think it was Alex or the housekeeper.” Dot's fingers fluttered again. “You start to lose your trust in the people around you. Once that goes it's hard to get back.”

“Lucy was stealing from you?”

Dot swallowed some wine. “Among other things.”

“She'd been asking my parents for money. It got so bad my father went to speak to Caleb.”

“Caleb didn't have a handle on things. Lucy's downfall really rattled that man's sense of superiority, which is probably why he lashed out at you. He needed someone to blame, otherwise people might have looked closer to home.”

“Do you think Caleb had something to do with her death?” asked Emma.

“No, not directly, but he is a difficult man. God knows what Beverly saw in him. She was one of the most carefree women I've ever met. I was genuinely surprised when she settled down with him. Makes me think that she'd already realized she was ill. Caleb may have been an old curmudgeon but he was solid. And I give him full credit. He really looked after Beverly when she was dying.” Dot swirled the contents of her glass. “It was Lucy that he couldn't love. You know, I never once saw Caleb show that girl any sign of affection.”

“In a way that's not surprising. Lucy was difficult to love.”

Dot's eyes widened. “You didn't like her.”

“It's more complicated than that. I loved her like a sister, but I didn't particularly like her as a person. She could be very needy. There were times when I really hated her.”

“And you felt the same way about Nathan, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Emma,” Dot said, leaning in. “Do you still stay with people who make you unhappy?”

“I've taken it to the other extreme. I now walk away with alarming regularity.”

“Do you think you stuck with Lucy out of obligation?” asked Dot.

“Habit, obligation, and a complete lack of imagination. When I was young my world consisted of two houses and the cherry orchard in between. I didn't realize there would be more choices in my future.”

“It's a shame you had to leave town under such a cloud.”

“I should have stayed and confronted Caleb, but I have a feeling it would have been useless. He wasn't interested in my side of the story. And in a way I guess I should be thankful. He burned my bridges for me.”

“Have you ever thought of speaking to Caleb now? I could go over to the nursing home with you.”

“I saw him last night. I can't confront a man who's lost his hold on reality. It would be cruel.”

“He didn't remember you?”

“It's fine. I'd rather be forgotten.”

“So, Emma,” Dot said, placing her hands on the table. “If not Caleb, who are you going to scream at about the past?”

“I can't think of anyone who's worth troubling myself over.”

“You could yell at Nathan. He's still around.”

Emma smiled. “I can't confront a man who's lost his hold on reality. It would be cruel.”

Dot laughed so hard she almost choked on her wine. “You must have heard that he's marrying Cynthia Phelps.”

“I hope for his sake that she's changed since high school. She could be very cruel. She especially liked to single out Lucy.”

“Cynthia's interviewed me a couple times for the local paper. Believe me when I say she's no Terry Gross. Anyway, you could run laps around that girl with your blinders on.”

“Cynthia is welcome to Nathan. I'm not interested.”

“Shame. It would be nice to have you around.”

“Not on those terms. I've changed,” said Emma, saying her vows aloud. “I'd never go back to that.”

“It would be nice if you came to see your mother more often. She really needs you now.”

“My mother fluctuates between pushing me away and wanting me close. I'm not really sure where I stand at the moment.”

“That's sounds very familiar to me,” said Dot. “Your mother and I aren't as close as we once were. We did have a nice chat at the prayer service though. We'll see.”

“I'm trying to put her behavior in the context of what's happened, but it's difficult to think clearly. My father's death has really hit us both very hard.”

“Of course it has.”

“It turns out that my mother has been anxious for some time. She thought my father was hiding something.” Emma watched Dot carefully. “She believed he was having an affair.”

Dot's eyes widened. She put a hand to her chest.

“With me?”

Emma nodded.

“That explains so much,” said Dot.

“I'm sorry, but I have to ask if it's true?”

Dot looked sad. “No, of course not. Your father and I were good friends. He's been very supportive. It's been difficult being alone. There are always so many little decisions that need to be made. I may have leaned on him a little too often. I never meant to cause offense. Poor Francine.”

“You're not angry?”

“No, not at all.” Dot folded her napkin and put it beside her plate. She looked close to crying. “I'm frustrated. Because I'm on my own some people view me as a predatory female. Women have a tendency to hide their husbands from me. Then there's the gossip. If I'm seen with a man people assume I'm sleeping with him. I'm sure you've faced the same thing.”

“Sadly, yes.”

“So much for the sisterhood.”

“Did my father tell you what he was working on when he died?” asked Emma. “The police think it might be linked to his kidnapping, but his laptop is missing and he never confided in my mother.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't help you there. We didn't really talk about his work.” Dot hesitated. “I'm not sure you're aware of this, but your father loved to gossip. That man seemed to have his finger on every pulse in the valley. He had such a wicked sense of humor.”

“I miss him.”

“Me too. He was a good man.”

Emma noticed the time. She'd promised to meet Nathan. If she didn't leave right away she was going to be late.

“I'm sorry,” she said, reaching for her handbag. “I'd better get going.”

“Do you need to be somewhere?”

“I'm meeting Nathan.”

“Sounds dreadful. Call and cancel. We can go for a walk in the garden instead.”

“I've already canceled three times.”

“Then once more won't hurt. Besides,” Dot said, pointing out Emma's empty wineglass. “You've had far too much to drink. It will be a while before you're fit to drive.”

 

11

Stacy Shaw's mother stared at Macy through the half open door with a blank expression on her face. Macy held her badge a little higher.

“Mrs. Shaw, do you have any idea when your daughter will be home?”

The woman peered over Macy's shoulder. She'd borrowed Aiden's pickup truck, and it was blocking the narrow country lane. The sun was rising in the sky. It was coming up to nine in the morning.

“Is Stacy in trouble?” asked Mrs. Shaw.

“No, ma'am. I only want to ask her a few questions.”

“That's what the cops who stopped by yesterday evening said. Seems like there's more to it if you're already back again this morning.”

The woman grew in stature as she stepped out onto the porch. Close to six feet tall and painfully thin, she wore a flannel shirt and jeans. The little hair she had was hidden beneath a red checked bandana. The laces of her heavy work boots trailed behind her as she walked the length of the porch. She tapped a pipe on the railing before pulling a bag of weed out of her shirt pocket.

“That had better be medical grade,” said Macy.

Mrs. Shaw held up the bag for Macy's inspection.

“I've been worried about Stacy,” she said.

“Is there something specific that's been worrying you?”

“She's got money coming in from somewhere.” Mrs. Shaw broke off some of the bud and pressed it into the bowl of the pipe. She struck a match. “She says it's from babysitting, but I know that's a lie. Nobody pays that well.”

“We already have a list of her friends at school. Do you have any idea who else she's been hanging out with?”

Mrs. Shaw leaned against the railing. She looked younger out in the light. One eye was green, the other blue. She took a long hit from the pipe and held it in. Macy silently counted the seconds before Mrs. Shaw exhaled.

“A couple of weeks ago, I went into town to collect a bedside table someone dumped in an alleyway.” Mrs. Shaw tipped her head to the barn. “I restore furniture for a living so I'm always looking for castoffs. I'd just finished loading it up into my van when I saw a woman making her way along the pavement. It was dark, but there was something familiar about her so I waited. When she got closer I realized it was Stacy. She was so dressed up I almost didn't recognize my own daughter.”

“What was she wearing?”

“A tight-fitting dress and heels. She doesn't have those kind of clothes here at the house so she must have gone somewhere to change. I said hello, and she looked at me like I wasn't there. Got into a car and was driven away.” Mrs. Shaw's voice trailed off. “I've not had much to say to her since then.”

“What kind of car was it?”

“It was a big dark SUV, navy or black I suppose. I couldn't tell the make. It had been parked there when I pulled up. I thought it was kind of weird as it wasn't the type of place you normally find nice cars.”

“Did you see the driver?” asked Macy.

“I'd assumed it was empty, but then the high beams went on at the same time I tried talking to Stacy. Couldn't see much of anything after that.” She held the pipe up again, but spoke before she took another hit. “I really wish I could tell you more.”

“Did you ask your daughter who she was with that night?”

“When she came home the next day I tried to get through to her, but it turned into a screaming match. Needless to say, I didn't get anything out of her.”

“When was the last time you saw Stacy?”

“She was here a few nights ago but didn't stay long. The school called. She's not been there either.”

“Does she have her own car?”

“Her dad went out and bought her one when she turned sixteen. I told him to wait until she improved her grades, but he thought differently. No matter what I say or do, I end up looking like the bad guy.”

“Is her father here?” said Macy.

“No, he's working in the oil fields in North Dakota. Won't be home again for a few months. It really breaks my heart. You know, she used to be the sweetest little girl, loved school, stuck close to home. Now she's this angry stranger who stomps through the house slamming doors. I've been ill the past year, and she's barely noticed.”

“Does she do drugs?”

“It would explain the change in her personality. She can be manipulative and cruel. It's not how I raised her, but it's how she turned out.”

*   *   *

Lou Turner called Macy into his office at the rear of Walleye Junction's Police Department. He slid a bundle of papers across the desk.

“There was another one of those anonymous e-mails last night,” said Lou. “Looks like it's from that same group of anarchists that sent us a list of people who died of accidental overdose.”

The e-mail opened with a question.
What's taking you so long to figure this out? People are still dying.

“Have you had time to have a look?” asked Macy.

Lou took a sip of his coffee. “The e-mail had several attachments. One was a Word document that summarizes several cases involving doctors who've been convicted for doing anything from dealing prescription drugs to running pill mills to exchanging painkiller prescriptions for sexual favors. The other documents are PDFs of the original newspaper articles. It's all there in that pile in front of you.”

“Any of the doctors from Montana?”

“No, this is nationwide,” said Lou.

“What are they trying to tell us? Weren't the overdose victims listed in the first e-mail mostly from Montana?”

Lou nodded. “Maybe we've got the same sort of problems around here, but we just don't know it yet. The tech guys are hopeful they'll find something in the attached Word document that can indicate the source. Gina was looking into that first e-mail. Do you know if she found anything?”

“I'm not sure how much progress she's made. I'll give her a call.”

“Where is she?” asked Lou. “She's usually in the office before me.”