Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery) (4 page)

“Are they coming?” Sam asked, sounding impatient and hugging herself as the temperature in the old house dipped despite the blazing fire.

“Can you please just send someone out? Yes, I’ll make sure no one touches anything. Yes, I’ll keep everyone out. What? Yes, there are fourteen other people in the house. Well, we were all playing mahjong. What? It’s a game. Of Chinese origin. You play with little tiles. Kind of like rummy but more fun.” Sam gave me a look over her candle. “Okay, sorry. You will be quick, won’t you? Yes, thank you.” I hung up.

“So are they coming?” Mary-Beth asked.

“As soon as they can. Which may not be for several more hours,” I said wearily.

“Hours?” Connie Cabrizzi said from her position by the fire.

“Everyone, please, let’s just stay calm and let’s all stay together. There’s cake and pie and hot coffee. And I think I’ll go heat up more soup and cut some bread.”

I looked around the room. Connie stood by the fire. My mom, sister and Millie sat on one side of my sectional sofa. Meme, Mrs. Haddock, Theresa, and Mia sat on the other. Judith was sitting on the hearth, and Liz and Jean each sat on a cozy chair. Dorothy and Mary-Beth sat at the dining room table.

My sister got up and came to stand by me.

“I just can’t believe this is happening and in my own home.” I moaned.

“Well, I think you have an even bigger problem than a dead body in your library.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said to my sister, thinking I really needed a dose of M&Ms. “Would you mind telling me what that problem is?”

“You’ve got a dead body in your library. And,” Sam said, pausing for effect, “a murderer in your living room.”

My sister was right of course. In all the panic at finding Penelope dead, I completely overlooked the fact that one of us must have killed her. This thought was going to dawn on everyone soon and then what? Mass panic? Another murder? Why did I have to invite everyone over to my house? I was tempted to tell them all to go home. Get them all out before whoever it was who had killed Penelope struck again, but I knew I couldn’t let anyone leave and so far no one had asked to go. True, Mildred’s Creek was washed out, but there was always the other, longer way out of the community unless that route as well had been closed. I decided on the spot no one should be left alone. We would all stick together in groups.

“Okay, everyone, listen up. I’m sure the police will want to talk with all of us and who knows when they’ll get here, so I think it best if we all stay in the living room and dining room area. If anyone needs to go into the kitchen or use the restroom, then you should take a couple of people along with you,” I said assuming a camp counselor tone.

“What a good idea, honey,” Meme said. “Theresa and Frances and I will stick together at all times.” I looked at the three women sitting on my sofa and was pretty sure I could scratch each of them off the list of possible suspects. But then you never knew. My grandmother played with Penelope earlier in the evening and Penelope had won twice. Meme sure liked to win but I couldn’t see her sticking a cake knife in the woman’s back over a dollar. What was I thinking? I quickly shook the thought out of my head.

“Connie, Millie, can you help me get some blankets and pillows from upstairs?” Connie and Millie stood up and the three of us went upstairs and brought down every blanket and pillow I could find. I also grabbed a bunch of warm socks in case anyone wanted to kick off their shoes. Millie and Sam helped me bring in two more chairs I kept in a little TV room off the kitchen.

“Well, we might as well make ourselves comfortable. It’s going to be a long night,” Jean said, as she took a blanket from the pile and positioned herself at one end of the sofa.

“Millie, could you give me a ride home?” Mia asked.

“I’m sorry, Mia. The police said to keep everyone here. They’ll want to talk with all of us and besides, it’s too dangerous out there to drive,” I said.

“I think it’s too dangerous in here,” Mia said with panic in her voice. “Doesn’t anyone realize if there’s a dead body in there,” she pointed toward the direction of the library, “then there must be a murderer in here?”

All eyes turned to Mia. There it was. Out in the open. I could almost feel a stampede starting.

“Calm down, everyone. That’s not necessarily so,” I said, knowing how stupid it sounded.

“Oh, really?” Liz asked. “Someone just happened to walk by when the lights went out and came in and killed Penelope?”

I put my hands on my hips and hung my head, slowly shaking it back and forth. “Okay,” I began, looking up at all the expectant faces around the room. “It certainly seems farfetched, but right now we really don’t know what happened. We’re just going to have to wait for the police to arrive.”

“Please, everyone. Let’s just stay calm,” Mom said, coming to my side and giving me a reassuring smile. “Alex, I think we need that hot soup and some bread.”

Sam and I followed my mom into the kitchen.

“Thanks, Mom. All hell was about to break loose.”

“Do you think Liz is right?” Sam asked.

“That someone just happened by?” I looked at my sister like she was an idiot knowing full well she was anything but. I guess we were all just grasping at straws trying not to admit the obvious—someone in my house was a cold-blooded killer.

The kitchen door swung open and my grandmother walked in. “How’s that soup coming, honey? The natives are getting restless out there. Liz is looking at Mia funny.”

“That’s understandable. Mia did accuse her of killing her father,” I said, as I cut up some bread and placed it in a basket.”

“No. I think Liz is thinking Mia killed Penelope,” Meme said.

I started to cut chunks of butter when I stopped. “Why would Mia kill Penelope? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“They both had red on,” Meme looked pointedly at me.

“I have red on,” Mom piped up from where she stood stirring the soup.

“Then I guess you’re lucky, Mable, she didn’t accidentally kill you,” Meme said.

“That’s not funny, Mother,” Mom said to Meme.

“It wasn’t supposed to be. You’ve always looked lovely in red, Mable, but today wasn’t the day to wear it.” Meme turned and walked out of the kitchen.

I pulled the lid off of the candy jar and grabbed a handful of M&Ms, slowly popping them into my mouth, one by one.

“What’s that look?” Sam said, coming to stand by me. “I can see the wheels turning. What are you thinking?”

“Okay. So the lights go out and Mia just can’t take it any longer knowing the person responsible for her father’s death is in the same room. She grabs the knife and slowly creeps to the table, all her anguish boiling up inside her. She pulls the knife back and then WHAM! Plunges it into the back of Penny thinking it was Liz.” I gave my sister a knowing look and popped another candy into my mouth.

“Give me those.” Samantha pried open my hand and grabbed the candy. “And it’s Penelope. Why can’t you get her name right?” She looked down at the confiscated chocolate and absently popped one into her mouth. “I can’t believe Mia would kill Penelope. She’s just a kid.”

“She’s Millie’s age, and have you read the paper lately? Kids kill all the time.” I shook my head at this sad state of the world.

Mom grabbed a potholder and took the pot off of the stove. “It could have happened like Meme said. It was dark, she got mixed up. And what other reason would there be to kill Penelope except she was mistaken for Liz? Come on, let’s take this food out.”

Sam and I followed my mother out to the dining room. Mom placed the pan of hot soup on the potholder and began to ladle out portions in the bowls my sister took out of the hutch. I placed the basket of bread and cups of butter down and surveyed the room. Everyone was there. Huddled in their little groups. Did this have any significance, I wondered? Maybe whoever killed Penelope had help. Maybe it was a group effort. I shook the thought from my head.

People slowly made their way to the table for some warm food. The fire blazed and we had a good supply of wood left. No sign of the police, but so far everyone was behaving.

I took a bowl of soup off the table and reached for a spoon. I guess it was kind of ghoulish, all sitting around and eating with a body in the next room, but what were we supposed to do? And it was cold and the soup was hot. It also smelled wonderful. I lifted the spoon to my mouth for a much needed taste when out of the corner of my eye I saw something that made me scream bloody murder and spill the entire bowl of hot soup onto my white tablecloth.

“What the heck hell?” my sister said, taking a quick step back before any soup got on her. “You scared me half to death. Alex? Alex? What’s the matter with you?”

I pointed a shaky finger toward the darkened staircase and screamed again. Everyone turned and then there was pandemonium as thirteen women scrambled to get behind me where, presumably, they thought they’d be safe. Ha! It was every man for herself, and I ducked under the table, first grabbing a fork for protection.

From my position I saw the soggy, boot-clad feet of a man come into the living room. The feet stopped for a few seconds and then proceeded to enter the dining area coming directly to where I hid. I took firm hold of the fork and inched myself closer to where I could get a good jab into his leg if I suddenly heard gun shots fired.

“Bert? For the love of God, what the hell are you doing here? You’re dripping all over Alex’s new rug.”

I had just raised my arm, ready to strike, when I heard Connie’s voice. Did she call the man by his first name? Could that be? Did Connie, sweet Connie from my health club, know this Neanderthal who had come into my house and plunged a knife into Penelope’s back?

I poked my head out from under the table and looked up at the man. “What the heck hell?”

“Alex, I am so sorry,” Connie said, coming around the table and standing next to Bert.

From somewhere behind me I could hear Meme saying, “This just keeps getting better.” Did I hear glee in my grandmother’s voice? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

I crawled out from my hiding place and stood up smoothing down my sweater and running my hand through my hair. “Well, I guess introductions are in order.”

“Alex, this is my husband, my
estranged
husband, Bert.”

“Nice to meet you, Bert,” I said, as I extended my hand taking a quick glance at the dining room table to make sure there was no cutlery within Bert’s reach. I thought it best to make friends with a murderer just in case he got the impulse to kill again.

“Bert? What are you doing here?” Connie had her hands on her slim hips. She turned and looked at me. “Alex, Bert hasn’t seemed to comprehend the fact that we are over. OVER!” she emphasized looking back at Bert. “You need to get out of my life, you, you miscreant!”

“Ah, exactly how did you get in here?” Sam asked, coming to stand next to me.

“I climbed up the tree on the side of the house and crawled in the window. I just wanted to make sure Connie wasn’t in here with some guy.”

“How long have you been up there?” I asked, wondering if Bert had been hiding up there when I first went up to close the window and if he had been up there watching when I went to get blankets. A chill went through me at the thought.

“About an hour. I peaked over the staircase and all I could hear was women’s voices. I tried to leave but the tree branch broke when I climbed up and I couldn’t get back down.”

“Well, that explains the air I felt on my legs earlier and the broken branch in the room upstairs,” I said, thinking about the wet twigs and leaves all over the floor.

“Then the lights went out,” Bert continued, “and I heard screaming and something about a body and then someone called the police. I didn’t know what to do. But then I heard you all talking about soup and I was pretty hungry. I came directly here from work. See? I’m a mess, Connie. I’m still in my work clothes,” Bert said, looking at Connie in an apologetic way.

Despite the wet clothes and the wet hair dripping down his face, Bert wasn’t a bad looking guy. He had on heavy work shoes and I could see a flannel shirt sticking out from beneath the wet jacket. I got the impression Bert worked with his hands. And he also obviously worked out the rest of his body as well because like his wife, his
estranged
wife I reminded myself, he was in great shape.

“Wait a minute. How did you know Connie was here?” I asked.

“I stopped by the club and one of the instructors told me she was playing some kind of game with a bunch of ladies.”

“Who?” Connie asked.

“I forget her name. What does it matter?”

“How did you know where I lived?” Bert was starting to freak me out.

“I found your name and address in the phone book.”

“No you didn’t. I’m not listed.”

“Bert, how did you find me?’ Connie demanded.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get mad. I put a tracking device on your car. I got it on the Internet. Works pretty good.” Bert smiled, clearly very proud of himself.

“You what? How long has it been on there?”

“About a week. I swear.”

Connie took a deep breath. “Bert, you need to leave. Please,” Connie pleaded. “I told you I don’t want to see you anymore. You’ve got to get it through your stupid head once and for all.”

From behind me I heard the voice of Liz Throckmorton.

“He can’t leave. He killed Penelope! Grab him, ladies. We need to tie him up until the police get here.”

The group of wildebeest on the other side of the table made a sudden move. Any minute pandemonium would reign as if it hadn’t all evening.

“Now hold on,” Connie said, turning to face the herd. “Someone in this room murdered Penelope but it wasn’t Bert. He may be a jerk, but he’s not a killer.”

“Thanks, honey,” Bert said with a “so there” look to everyone else.

“Don’t call me honey,” Connie glared. “And for my money,” she said, turning back to face everyone else, “it could only be one person.”