Something shady, p.14
Something Shady, page 14
part #2 of Stoner McTavish Mystery Series
They’re going to pay for this, Gwen. I’m going to make them pay.
“You know what I hate most about this?” Gwen said.
“What?”
“You’re taking care of me again.”
CHAPTER 6
The world hadn’t changed the next morning. Buildings stood where buildings had stood last night. Cars rolled down the street with mute indifference. Gulls put on their usual performance, and the fountain was ugly as ever.
It made her furious.
Even the Clam Shack looked the same. Delia wore her work dress and apron and ragged sneakers. Virge was at his appointed place, in his customary bad mood. The chrome glistened.
Delia looked up as she forced the door shut against the wind. “Everything okay?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“I put up a carry-out for you.” Delia slipped into a bulky hand-knit sweater and reached for a paper bag. “Mind the store a while, will you, Virge? And keep your thieving fingers out of the pastry.”
“Don’t get yourself exercised,” the man grumbled. “Nothin’ in here worth stealin’.”
Out on the street, Delia pulled her sweater tighter. “That Virgil. Been sniffing around me ever since Dan died.”
“Does he want to marry you?”
“Marrying isn’t what he’s after. I ought to give him the boot, but it passes the time, saying ‘no.’ Where’s your car?”
“I parked on a side street. If no one’s connected me with Gwen, I’d just as soon keep it that way.”
“Are you going to stay with this thing, Stoner?”
The wind cut through her clothes. “I thought I might.”
“Got any plans?”
“Nothing definite. What’s in the bag?”
“Bagels, doughnuts, ginger ale, coffee. And money for those damn cigarettes.”
Stoner touched her arm. “She doesn’t blame you for that, Delia. Nobody does. My guess is, they were trying to scare her off.”
“Nevertheless, I feel bad. Last night, every time I reached for one of those buggers, it made my stomach churn.” She laughed humorlessly. “I may finally be able to quit. How is she really, Stoner?”
“Scared.”
“And you?”
“Mad,” Stoner said. “How about you?”
“All of the above. If I didn’t have a business to run, I’d go on a rampage.”
“I don’t think this is a good time for you to quit smoking.”
She decided not to tell her the worst - about waking in the first oily light of dawn to a sound like the whimpering of a puppy seeking its mother’s warmth; about turning on the light to see Gwen, trembling, the realization of what had happened finally sinking in, scarcely able to recognize Stoner through her fear; about aching to hold her but having to sit helplessly by and stroke her hair, because she hurt too much to be held...
“She doesn’t look too well,” Stoner said.
“I wouldn’t imagine.”
The wind blew grit into their faces.
“Delia, do you really think those people were from Shady Acres?”
“I know it in my gut. Proving it’s another matter.”
Stoner thought about what she was planning to do, had spent worried, angry hours working out. It was probably crazy, certainly dangerous, and depended entirely on no one connecting her with Gwen.
“The man who watched us the other night at the Harbor House,” she said. “Do you have any clear sense of where he might fit in?”
Delia bent her head into the wind. “That’s one I haven’t figured out. They close at the new moon. On the other hand, old Charlie Lummox isn’t very bright, and wouldn’t win any medals for courage. If he’s working for that bunch, they’re damn fools.”
“He’s in a position to keep track of who comes and goes in town,” Stoner suggested.
“So am I. Nobody’s made me any offers.” She kicked a dented beer can into the gutter. “Still, he does have that new boat.”
“Did he take it out last night, do you know?”
“Jared and I swung by there. The Harbor House was closed, but the boat was tied up to the dock. That’s a puzzler.”
“What about Steve, the waiter? He saw us, too.”
“Steve’s mind’s in his pants. If he and Charlie ever had a contest to see who had the most brains, they’d both lose. As for the rest - the kitchen crew and bartender live over by Camden, don’t set foot in Castleton except to moonlight, weekends.”
“They must know Dan talked to you,” Stoner said. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll try to get to you?”
Delia shrugged. “They might. I don’t much care.”
Stoner looked at her. “Do you mean that?”
“Sometimes. After Dan was killed, everyone said I’d get over it, just give myself time. I’m still waiting.”
“Maybe you should move away from here. With all the memories...”
“Memories are what I have left. And wanting to see those bastards dangling by their short hairs.” She smiled grimly. “If you want to know how Greeks feel about revenge, read Aeschylus.”
“I know what you mean,” Stoner said.
Delia rested her hand on Stoner’s arm. “Look, kid, this isn’t your fight. Why don’t you drop it?”
Stoner rammed her hands in her jacket pockets. “It’s turned personal.”
“Those people play rough, as you might have noticed.”
“They’ve messed up a lot of lives. Dan’s, yours, Claire’s, her sister’s, maybe Lilly Winthrop’s. And now Gwen. Well, that kind of thing messes up my life, too.”
They walked along in silence for a while.
“I think I know what you have in mind,” Delia said after a while. “And I think it stinks.”
“The whole thing stinks.”
“You can still walk away.”
“I can’t turn my back on what I know, Delia. It’s a matter of honor.” She grinned crookedly. “You can look that up in Aeschylus, too. Anyway, Aunt Hermione says I’m going to live to seventy-two.”
“And she has second sight, I suppose.”
“She’s a practicing clairvoyant. She was born with a caul.”
“Wonderful.”
“There’s just one thing,” Stoner said. “I want you to be honest with me. If I stir up a hornet’s nest out there, you could get stung. So if you want me to call it off...”
“I said your idea stinks,” Delia said. “I didn’t say to call it off.”
“I don’t want Gwen to know yet, not until she feels better.”
“Gotcha.”
The car was in sight. They quickened their pace.
“I just wish I knew if they know about me. If Charlie Lennox...”
“I think,” Delia said, “I know how we might find out.” They were almost to the car. “Stoner, where is she?”
Gwen was nowhere in sight.
“No!” Stoner leapt forward.
“There you are,” Gwen said. She pulled herself up from the back seat, where she lay like a mummy wrapped in the car blanket. “I thought you’d left me here to freeze.”
Stoner yanked the door open. “Why didn’t you turn on the heater?”
“Carbon monoxide.” She spotted Delia behind Stoner’s shoulder, and reddened. “Oh. Hi. Good morning.”
“It is not. How are you doing, honey?” Delia took Gwen’s chin in her hand and tilted her face upward. “I expected worse.”
“It feels worse.”
Gently, Delia touched the bruises under Gwen’s eye. “You’re going to have a hard time explaining this to your students.”
“I’ll have to wear sunglasses. They’ll probably think I’m stoned.”
“Sounds like a good reason to get stoned.”
“They’ll think I was beaten up.”
Delia laughed. “Can’t win, can you?”
“Not in the Watertown public school system.” Gwen fingered her eye gingerly. “This probably violates the dress code.”
There was an awkward silence, the kind of silence that happens when there’s too much to say and no way to say it.
“Well,” Delia said, “I gotta get back, if you can take me on an errand first.” She slid into the passenger seat. “You stay in back, honey,” she said to Gwen. “And keep out of sight.”
“Where are we going?” Stoner asked as she started the car.
“To do a little research.”
She directed them down deserted streets and onto a dirt road at the north edge of town, past fields given over to raspberry and juniper. They pulled up in front of a dilapidated farm house. Scrawny chickens flew up from the sand dooryard and settled on the hood of the car. Delia got out and shooed them off. “Stoner, you come with me. Gwen, pull that blanket over you and stay put.”
She trudged up the decaying front steps and banged on the door. “Emma! It’s Delia. I want to talk to you.”
The house was silent.
“I know you’re in there, Emma. You’re too heathen to be at church, and it’s too early for you to be drunk.”
The door opened a crack. A middle-aged wreck of a woman peered out. Her hair was unwashed, her bathrobe held together by a series of safety pins. “Jee-sus, Delia, you want to wake the dead?”
Delia shoved the door open, knocking the woman off balance.
“Where’s your boy?”
The woman stared at Stoner. “What do you want him for?”
“I’m gonna offer him a college scholarship,” Delia said sarcastically.
“He’s sleeping.”
“That’s his natural state. Get him down here.” She strode into the kitchen.
Stoner followed her.
“Watch where you sit,” Delia said. “Emma’s not exactly the Homemaker of the Year.”
She dusted off a chair with a moldy dishrag and sat down. “See you got a new cat. What’d you do with the old one, eat it?”
“Run off.”
“Don’t blame it.” She offered the woman a cigarette and lit it for her.
A scarecrow of a boy stumbled into the kitchen knuckling his eyes with one hand and scratching his matted head with the other. His chest was white and goose-pimpled above his pajama bottoms. “You call me, Ma?”
“Delia wants words with you,” the woman said, and chug-a-lugged her beer.
“Make me some coffee, will ya? Fucking freezing in here.” He looked up.
“Steve!” Stoner gasped.
His eyes widened. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”
“We have some questions for you, Steverino,” Delia said.
He looked around. “Where’s the other one?”
“None of your business.” Delia took a drag on her cigarette. “We had a little trouble at my place last night. You know anything about it?”
“Trouble?”
“Trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Couple of your pals used our friend for a punching bag,” Delia said.
Steve turned on Stoner. “I told you to leave, lady. I warned…”
“I’m not a lady,” Stoner said. “Don’t tempt me to prove it.”
“What I want to know,” Delia went on, “is what’s your part in this?”
“I didn’t do anything,” he whined. “Can I see her?”
Delia stubbed out her cigarette in a cracked saucer and reached for another. Steve jumped to light it for her. “No, you can’t see her. What’d you do to your hand?”
“Accident,” he mumbled, hiding his scraped and scabby hand behind his back.
“Accident?” Delia said. “Kiss my foot.”
“Listen, you crazy Greek,” Emma squealed, “my boy’s a good boy. He don’t make trouble.”
“Your boy’s a half-assed cretin. Always was, always will be.”
Emma pulled herself up to her full height and swayed a little. “You get outa my house, Delia. Talkin’ about my boy that way...”
Delia ignored her. “Maybe you’d like to explain that ‘accident’.”
“I wouldn’t hit her,” Steve said earnestly. “Honest, I like her.”
“I don’t give a damn about your personal feelings. I’m asking you how you split those knuckles.”
His eyes ricochetted around the room. “I busted Charlie Lennox’s jaw.”
There was a stunned silence.
Emma leapt forward and grabbed Steve by the hair. “I told you a thousand times I don’t want you fighting.”
“Oh, simmer down,” Delia said.
Emma opened another beer and retired to the corner to mumble to herself.
“Maybe you’d better begin at the beginning,” Stoner said.
He looked at her pleadingly. “Friday night, after you guys left the restaurant, he followed you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were asking questions about Shady Acres. He always told me, ‘If anyone asks questions about Shady Acres, you point them out to me. I was only doing my job.”
“Greetings from the Third Reich,” Delia muttered.
“Go on,” Stoner said.
“Well, when he got back, he said he was gonna call out there and tell them. He was real mad, kind of talking to himself and calling you dirty names.”
“What names?” Delia asked.
“I don’t want to know,” Stoner said.
“Anyway, I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I hit him.”
“Before or after he made the call?”
“Before.”
“Where is he now?”
“In Augusta. At the hospital. They said his jaw’s broke.”
“How’d he get to Augusta?” Delia asked.
Steve hung his head. “I drove him,” he mumbled.
“God damn it,” Emma shrieked, “I told you not to drive my car out of town. Brand new second-hand Honda.”
“I didn’t hurt it, Ma.”
“You better fill up the gas tank, Buster. That’s all I got to say.”
“Emma,” Delia said, “the day you’ve said all you’ve got to say, there’ll be dancing in the streets.” She turned to Steve. “What’s the connection between Shady Acres and the Harbor House?”
“Mr. Lennox tells them if anybody comes around asking about them.” His chest was turning blue from the cold. “That’s all I know.”
“What about those trawling expeditions?”
His teeth were chattering. “They never let me come along.”
“Ever hear any talk about what’s going on out there?”
“No.”
“What do you know about how Dan died?”
“Nothing.”
“How long’s Charlie Lennox going to be in Augusta?”
“I don’t know. They said his jaw’d be wired for three, four weeks at least.” He rubbed his hands over his chest and shifted from one foot to the other.
Delia grinned. “He’s not going to be real happy to see you when he comes home, Mister.”
Steve’s face turned the color of snow. “Oh, shit.”
“You lost your job!” Emma bawled. “You lost your Goddamn job!”
“I couldn’t help it, Ma. I couldn’t let him do nothing to her.”
Stoner gripped his shoulder. His skin was like ice. “It’s all right, Steve. You did the right thing.”
“He lost his job!”
The cat left the room.
“Oh, shut up, Emma,” Delia said. “The boy can work for me.”
He looked at her like a hungry puppy. “You mean that, Delia?”
“Yeah, yeah. Probably do you good. Raise your standards.” She looked him up and down. “Come see me later today. And make yourself presentable. You look like an empty buttermilk glass.”
“You hear that, Ma? I’m gonna work for Delia.”
Delia put out her cigarette and stood up. “Well, it’s been real pleasant passing the time with you folks, but I have to get back to work.” She handed her pack of Chesterfields to Emma. “You keep ‘em. I’m trying to cut back.”
As the door closed behind them, Delia muttered something that sounded a little like “Megalopolis-Constantinople-Iphegenia.”
“Well,” Stoner said, “we found out what we needed to know, but I’m not sure if it’s worth it, sticking you with Steverino.”
“It puts him where I want him. Under my nose.”
Stoner laughed. “Delia, I’m beginning to think you’re a soft touch.”
“Yeah, a diamond in the rough. Looks like your way’s clear, at least until Charlie Lummox gets his voice back.”
“Looks like.”
“Just for the record, I think you’re an idiot.”
“Thank you,” Stoner said. “You’re probably right.”
Delia sighed. “Well, give me a lift back to town and get out of here. Keep me informed.” She rummaged in her sweater pockets. “Damn, I should have kept a smoke for the ride home.”
***
The traffic had grown steadily thicker. Early spring dusk robbed the countryside of color. Beside her, Gwen stirred.
“Almost home,” Stoner said. “Glad?”
“I’ll be glad to lie down.”
“You could have gotten in back.”
“Too lonely.”
Stoner took her hand. “Your grandmother’s going to kill me.”
“Who knows what she’ll do?” She played with Stoner’s fingers. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but would you mind if we didn’t tell her right away? Only for a few days, until I feel a little tougher.”
“It’s going to be hard to hide.”
“Why, has my hair turned purple?”
“Only your eye. How will we explain that?”
“What?”
“We could say you fell out of the car rounding a curve, or got run over by a herd of stampeding cattle, but I don’t think she’d buy it.”
Gwen started to laugh. “I mean, not tell her about us right away.”
“I’m in no hurry. Scared?”
“A little. Guess I’ll get used to it, huh?”
“You’ll get used to it.” So it was starting. Damn it. Why does the world have to make such a big deal of it? It’s only love.
She turned on the headlights, switched to high beams, and pulled out beside an eighteen-wheeler carrying a mysterious toxic cargo. The driver blasted his horn and shot ahead, exceeding the speed limit by at least fifteen mph.
