Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery) (21 page)

Millie gave me a warm smile and I hoped it meant I was out of the dog house.

We waited until most of the cars drove away and then started back. On our way by the casket, Sam and I placed our roses on the top.

“I guess pink must have been her favorite color,” Sam said. “All the flowers looked beautiful.”

“Reuben works with a florist over in Stamford. They always do wonders with their floral arrangements. Where’s Alex?” Millie asked as she and Sam stopped a distance away from me and turned back to where I still stood by the casket.

“Alex?” Sam called. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.” When they got to my side I pointed to something caught on the contraption that lowered the casket into the ground. I couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What’s that thing down there?” I pointed again and Sam shrugged her shoulders.

The ground around us was muddy from all the digging and the storm. Millie bent down and took another look.

“It looks like a piece of paper. Here, hold this, Alex.” Millie handed me her purse and started to pull off her gloves.

“No! Wait. Don’t take your gloves off. We don’t want to get finger prints on it.”

Sam gave me a weird look. “It’s probably just a piece of trash that blew in or someone dropped something.”

Millie got on her knees, her black slacks now a mess. “Alex, I think it’s a picture. I can’t reach it.”

“A picture?” I asked as my heart began to race and I could feel a chill going through me. I reached inside my purse and pulled out an empty baggie I had tossed in there from my mom’s pantry. I meant to fill it up with M&Ms from my desk at the office but had forgotten.

Millie stood up and took off her coat, handing it to Sam. She got back down on the ground and this time reached as far as she could. The casket had been partially lowered and Millie reached several feet below ground level. She inched closer to the hole and I grabbed onto her feet to keep her from falling.

“I got it!” Millie turned and handed it to me. I used a clean tissue from my purse and turned it over.

I stood looking at it and I began to shake.

“Alex? What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Sam said. “And we’re in a graveyard. You’re scaring me.”

Millie tried to brush the mud from her pants and looked at me. “What is it? Does it have something do to with Penelope? Do you want me to go get Reuben?”

I turned the photo over looking for something, anything on the back, but found nothing. No inscription telling us who it was. I turned it back over so we could all get a good look at the front.

“It’s a man,” Sam said. “And maybe a building in the background. Looks like brick.”

“Do you know who it is, Alex?” Millie asked.

“Yes. No. Not really. But I’ve seen him before. In another picture. And he had his arm around Penelope.”

“Oh, no,” Sam said. “Is this the picture you said you found in her closet?”

“Well, not
the
picture, but it’s the same man, I’m sure of it.”

“We need to give it to the police,” Millie said.

“Yes, we do, but first we need to make a copy, because once I turn it over, I doubt if the police are going to want to make me a personal copy for my own investigation.” I gently put the picture in the baggie carefully touching just the edge. “I also want to talk to Reuben.” Reuben had been standing off to the side throughout the entire ceremony and maybe he had seen something. But I felt pretty sure if Reuben had seen a piece of debris at the site, he would have discreetly removed it, which meant someone dropped it there as they passed by with their rose.

“Damn!” I said startling Millie and Sam. “The killer must have dropped this picture as they placed the rose on the casket. Did either of you see anything?”

Millie and Sam looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Nothing, Alex. Sorry. And I didn’t notice it when I went by but that doesn’t mean anything. I wasn’t paying attention to the bottom of the casket. I just looked at the top and all the flowers. I’ll ask my mom and Mia if they remember anything,” Millie offered.

“No, don’t ask Mia. Just your mom,” I said.

“Alex, you’re not still thinking Mia had something to do with this?” Millie looked hurt but it was no time to play favorites.

I probably shouldn’t even have her mention it to her mother, but as I planned on interrogating my mother and Dorothy and Meme and her entourage, I couldn’t exactly tell Millie to keep quiet.

“Just your mom for now. I have no idea what’s going on here but his picture had to come from someone at the ceremony today and that means all the mahjong suspects.”

“But, Alex, the hole was dug a couple of days ago. Maybe someone came and placed it on the platform during the night?”

“I don’t think so, Millie. It would have blown away or gotten wet from the morning mist and this photo seems to be in good condition. Let’s go make a copy and then I’ll drop it off with Detective Maroni and tell him about the other picture I found in Penelope’s closet.”

“You didn’t tell him about the other picture yet?” my sister asked with an accusing tone.

“Well, no, it didn’t mean anything then. A picture of Penelope and an old friend or boyfriend judging by how she had it tucked away. I had no reason to think it had anything to do with the murder.”

“And you do now?” Millie asked.

I thought for a minute. “Well, it must. Why on earth would anyone toss it in there?”

“It had to be Els,” Sam said. “She must have found another picture of the man with Penelope and maybe she just threw it in there in a fit of anger.”

I looked around. We were the only ones still left in the now dark cemetery.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ll drop the two of you off after I make a copy.”

“And then what?” Sam asked.

We arrived at my car and Millie climbed into the back seat. I really needed to get a four-door one of these days, but I loved my little Honda and saw no reason to get rid of it. I got in and started the car and then put the heater on. “And then I’m going to drop this picture off at the police station. I want to talk with Detective Maroni about a couple of things anyway.”

“About what?” my sister asked. “Alex? What’s going on?”

One of these days I’m going to have to learn to keep my feelings out of my voice because my sister picks up on it every time. I let the car idle while I turned to look at her.

“What if Henry got hit because of something to do with the murder? What if someone tried to warn me off?”

“No, Alex. It couldn’t be. It was just some jerk playing around with his phone instead of paying attention. He wasn’t even driving very fast, thank God.”

“Sam’s right, Alex,” Millie said from the back. “If he hadn’t been texting, then maybe, but that’s all it was. Something has to be done about people and their cell phones while driving.”

“You’re both probably right, but I just want to make sure because we don’t want something to happen again. Ever,” I said looking at my sister.

I put the car into gear and headed out of the cemetery. We drove along the empty road for several minutes in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. I knew Sam and Millie just wanted to make me feel better but if there was even the slightest chance the accident happened because of something I did, I had to find out.

We pulled up in front of our offices and I quickly ran in and made several copies of the picture. Back in the car, I headed toward Millie’s house and dropped her off and then took Sam back to my parents.

“Don’t mention anything about the picture yet,” I said to Sam.

She got out and then turned, bending to look back in at me. “It wasn’t your fault, Alex. It was just an accident.” She smiled at me and then closed the door.

I watched her go up the walkway to the front door and then go inside. I knew deep down she was probably right, but what if I had caused Henry to almost get killed? Had I finally gone too far with my Miss Marple act? I had to know. And the police needed to know about Bert and Penelope.

I looked at my watch. Hopefully, Detective Maroni worked late. I made a U-turn and headed off into the night.

I love reading mysteries. It all started with
Mystery By Moonlight
by Mary C. Jane. I read it over and over and never got tired of it. And I love a good murder mystery movie, but Hollywood doesn’t seem to make many of them anymore. I don’t know why. Who doesn’t love a whodunit?

But the one thing in all the books and movies that never rings true to me is when someone is being followed and they don’t know it. If you’re constantly looking in the rearview mirror like you’re supposed to, wouldn’t you notice the same car following you down the turnpike, off the exit, past familiar streets? And more than that, wouldn’t you just get a creepy feeling?

That’s how I felt now. I had a creepy feeling. Like someone was following me. The route from my parents’ home to the police station covered a pretty heavily traveled section of roadway in Indian Cove, and there were quite a few cars behind me. I admit I hadn’t noticed any particular car following me out of my parents’ subdivision, but still. I couldn’t shake the feeling someone lurked behind me on purpose.

And then I had a thought and it made my spine feel like a blade of ice slowly crawled up my back. What if someone, the killer, followed me from the cemetery? What if they saw me pick up the picture and wanted it back?

So caught up in my own horror story, I just about passed the police station and had to make a quick right turn into the driveway, tires squealing, and just missed plowing into a tree very inconveniently placed if you asked me.

I sat there for a moment, blocking the entrance, looking to see if anyone came up behind me or if I recognized any of the other cars whizzing past, but nothing. A few minutes later I sat across from Detective Maroni.

“We’re beginning to wonder if John is ever coming back.”

“You and me both,” I said, putting a bright smile on my face. I wondered if the whole town thought my husband left his new bride. “It’s not a problem, is it?” I asked, suddenly worried John might be out of a job when he got back.

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jim Maroni said, as he leaned back in his chair. “He has plenty of vacation time built up, and to tell you the truth, the citizens of Indian Cove and the surrounding towns have been pretty law abiding lately. Other than the murder, of course.”

I picked up my purse from the floor by my seat and took the picture out. “Well, that’s why I’m here. I went to Penelope’s funeral today. I didn’t see you there. I thought the cops always showed up.”

“A meeting I couldn’t get out of,” Detective Maroni said sheepishly.

“Take a look at this,” I said, as I handed him the baggie with the picture in it.

“A picture of a man. I don’t get it.”

“I found it. At the burial site. Actually, someone tossed it in the hole with the casket.”

“Alex, you jumped into a grave site?”

“Oh, no, not me. Millie did it. She’s my assistant.”

“I see. So who is this?”

“I don’t know. But Penelope has, had, I guess I should say, another picture of him in a secret box she kept in her closet.”

Detective Maroni leaned forward clasping his hands in front of him on the desk. “And you know this how?”

“I was there. In her room, helping her stepdaughter clean out her closet. They’re packing everything up to sell or donate and she hired my firm to send someone over to help.”

“And you didn’t have a more junior-level person to send over?” he asked, smiling at me.

“Well, they know me, so it just seemed natural.”

“What do you mean by a secret box?”

“I found a little box, tucked behind another box. And there were other things in it, too. Movie ticket stubs, a token from a bus or something, and the picture.”

“Maybe it’s a picture of her husband.”

I shook my head vigorously. “No, it’s not. I asked Els and she had no idea about the identity of the man.”

“I take it you didn’t see anybody at the funeral toss it in?” Detective Maroni asked as he ran a hand through his hair.

“No, but everyone walked by and tossed a pink rose onto the coffin after the ceremony. It was her favorite flower.”

“So anyone could have just dropped it. Where exactly was it?”

“On the metal thing that lowers the casket into the ground. It got kind of caught on it.”

Detective Maroni fingered the baggie and turned it over, probably checking to see if there was any writing on the back. “Maybe it was already there before the service?”

“No, I don’t think so. It would have been wet if it had been there all night and besides, no matter when it got placed, it still had to be put there by the killer. Who else would have done something like that?” Of course, it could have been Els who placed it out of anger and I planned to stop by her house on my way home to speak with her, but I didn’t want Detective Maroni getting there before me so I kept this thought to myself.

I told Detective Maroni about Bert’s admission and, just as I thought, Bert never mentioned it. I thanked the detective for his time and told him the latest on John’s truck trouble in Maine and then asked about Henry. As far as the police were concerned it was an accident but, because the texting bastard used his cell phone while driving, there would be implications.

“So you’re completely sure what happened to Henry had nothing to do with the murder at my house?”

“You mean like someone wanted to warn you off your investigation?”

I reddened but managed to squeak out a yes.

“No. Just a spoiled kid whose parents obviously let him do whatever he wants. It wasn’t his first accident, by the way, and this time we’re going to be pressing hard for some jail time or at least many, many hours of community service.”

I thanked Detective Maroni again and then I headed out. I walked out to the parking lot, thankful for all the outdoor lighting because, as hard as I tried to shake it off, I still felt pretty sure I was being watched.