Miss Julia Paints the Town (10 page)

“But who could it have been?” I glanced around at Mildred in the bergère by the fireplace, Lillian on the edge of a straight chair and Deputy Tucker standing in the middle of the living room, asking questions and taking notes.

Through the tall windows, I could see other deputies beating the bushes out on the lawn. Mildred had turned on the floodlights, so it was like daylight out there.

Nobody answered, which was no surprise since we were still suffering from shock, and I was just prattling out loud to ease the strain.

“Mrs. Allen,” Deputy Tucker said, “with a nice house like this, you really ought to have a burglar alarm.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, as I jerked my head up in surprise. “Horace had it put in for me. He's so handy with things like that. We just forgot to turn it on.”

Mildred had reverted to her languid Lady of the Manor mode, seemingly unperturbed that the mere flip of a switch could've kept us safe and her wall unscathed.

“Well,” he said, jotting a note on his pad, “guess it's a good thing Lieutenant Peavey had me watching the house.”

Hardly,
I thought, since he'd only shown up after the crisis was over. But why had the lieutenant posted a guard in the first place? Did he know something we didn't? Well, that was highly likely since he was so close-mouthed, nobody knew what he was thinking.

“Mildred,” I said, “you need to get somebody over here to repair the damage.”

“Oh, I will, in the morning. I doubt anybody'll try breaking in again, not with all the activity out there.”

“One more question,” Deputy Tucker said, trying to get the interview back on track. “We found a ladder on the ground under the window. Would that be yours?”

“Possibly,” Mildred said. “You might check the shed behind the garage, or you can ask Ida Lee. She'll know, but she's in the hospital.” After a minute of thought, she went on. “The gardener could've left it, but I can't think why he would. He knows I don't like sloppy work.”

“Some ivy was pulled off the wall, too. Did you tell him to do that?”

“Absolutely not.” Mildred sat up straight. “It's not the time of year to trim ivy.”

“Okay, then let me ask you this. You have a permit for that shotgun?”

“It's a sporting gun, Officer,” she said, taking immediate umbrage. “I'm sure I don't need a permit to shoot skeet.”

As Deputy Tucker opened his mouth to set her straight, I intervened. “Mildred, you may need a permit to shoot intruders. I'm sure the deputy will help you get one as soon as possible. Then you'll be legal the next time somebody tries to break in.”

Deputy Tucker stared at me for a long minute. I gave him a brisk nod, and he turned back to Mildred. “You think you might've hit him?”

“I hope so,” she said. “People like that need to be taught a lesson. But since you haven't found anybody on the grounds, I guess I didn't.”

“I don't think you did, Mildred,” I said. “From where that hole in the wall is, you aimed too high.”

She sighed. “I always track too high.”

After another few minutes of absorbing this information, Deputy Tucker closed his notepad. “I guess that's it then. We'll check the hospital, see if anybody's come in with gunshot wounds, but looks like we've done all we can do tonight. Lieutenant Peavey may want to talk to you tomorrow—today, I mean, since it's so late.”

“Well, I certainly hope he has some news for me,” Mildred said. “Lillian, will you see the deputy out? And while you're up, I could use some tea.”

I rose and said, “I'll get it. It'll give me something to do. I'm too nervous to sit still.”

I went out to the kitchen, turned on all the lights, made sure the back door was locked and put the kettle on. Standing by the stove, I tried to make sense of what had happened. To tell the truth, I was feeling somewhat guilty for having opened that window. That could've been an open invitation to the prowler. Whoever it had been saw an easy way in and jumped, or rather climbed, at the chance.

Thinking back over my actions from the first moment I'd entered the room and readied myself for bed, I suddenly realized that the window had not been locked. I distinctly remembered the sash sliding up so easily that it had taken no effort at all to let in a little fresh air. In fact, the window had gone up so slickly that I'd had to ease it back down a few inches to get it to the right height.

What did that mean? The more I thought about it, the more I thought it had to mean something. After all, there were dozens of windows on the first floor which were much more accessible and so far from the bedrooms that a little noise wouldn't have been heard.

I made tea for the three of us and took a tray into the living room. Depositing the tray on a table beside Mildred, I glanced out of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. I walked over to it, pretending to look outside. Checking the lock, which was so tight I couldn't move it, I said, “My goodness, they've even got some police dogs out there.”

I walked to three other windows, pretending to survey the yard activity while surreptitiously examining the locks. They were all securely closed. “I expect that prowler is long gone,” I said, covering my investigation. “They'd have found him if he was still around.”

“Come have some tea, Julia,” Mildred said. “I'm missing Tonya terribly and just don't want to think about prowlers any more. Except for hoping I peppered him good.” She took a sip from her cup, then brightened. “But maybe I did. Maybe he's running or even hiding somewhere while blood from a dozen pellets is leaking out all over the place.”

Lillian swallowed hard and pushed her cup away.

But my mind was on something other than an unknown prowler. Ignoring the cup of tea that Mildred had poured for me, I said, “I'll be back in a few minutes. I need to run upstairs.”

As Mildred began directing me to the downstairs powder room, I hightailed it across the foyer and up the stairs. Running swiftly across the landing, I went back into Horace's room where the temperature had dropped considerably from all the fresh air that Mildred had let in.

Going to the window on the side wall, I pushed aside the curtains and checked the lock. It was closed tight and wouldn't budge when I tried to open it. Working quickly, I ran my hand along the window frame. Yes, there was the wire for the alarm. Then I went to the back window, stepping carefully so as not to grind glass into the carpet, and did the same thing to that one. No wires!

I stood there for a few seconds, contemplating this turn of events. Why had this one window been unconnected to the alarm system that had the entire house wired up? Had that been Horace's doing? On purpose? And if so, why?

Hearing the doorbell, then voices in the foyer, I retraced my steps, wondering if the deputies had been successful in their search. As I started down the stairs, I saw Lillian talking to Sam. He'd obviously dressed in a hurry, for his pajama top was halfway stuffed into his pants and his feet were sockless. With his hair uncombed, he looked as if he'd jumped out of bed and come running. It did my heart good to see how worried he was. Take that, Helen Stroud.

“Julia!” he said, looking up at me. “What in the world is going on? Something woke me up and when I looked out, all I could see was a line of sheriff's cars. Are you all right?”

I hurried to him, feeling immensely relieved to have his arm around me. “We're all right, but we've had an eventful night, to say the least.”

Lillian said, “Somebody come breakin' in an' Miz Allen, she run 'em off with her shotgun.”

“Mildred has a shotgun?” Sam's eyebrows went up. “Good Lord, did anybody get hurt?”

“Only the wall,” I said, holding on to him, “and the window, but both can be fixed. We're all fine, Sam, a little rattled, maybe, after such a scare.”

Lillian frowned. “I'm more rattled than a little. I don't like people come climbin' up a wall an' tryin' to sneak up on people who sleepin' in they beds like they ought to be doin'.”

Sam patted her shoulder. “I don't blame you, Lillian, but with all those deputies out there, you're safe now.” Turning to me, he said, “How's Mildred?”

“Sam, you'd have to have seen her to believe it. I'll tell you all about it later, but for now, she's back to her old complaining self. Walk in and speak to her.”

The minute Sam went into the living room and walked over to her chair, Mildred began telling him about Tonya's leaving and thanking him for letting Lillian and me keep her company. I didn't say anything, but a lot of thoughts went through my mind. For one thing, I couldn't believe that Mildred assumed that Sam had
let
me do anything. Coming from her, who ruled the roost in her own house, the thought was laughable. And a little insulting, if you want to know the truth.

Assuring Sam that we were safe for what was left of the night, I walked into the foyer with him. He wanted to stay with us, and I would've felt safer with him there. But I told him I'd rather he be with Hazel Marie and Lloyd.

“There're deputies all around,” I said, “and I'm sure Lieutenant Peavey'll leave someone here the rest of the night. This'll probably be the safest house in town. But, Sam,” I went on, lowering my voice, “I've discovered a few things I want to talk to you about. But not here. I'll be home early, so don't go anywhere.” And certainly not to Helen's.

“Charlie Outz, here. Would this be Mrs. Julia Murdoch?”

“It would,” I said, about ready to hang up if the caller was selling something. The phone had rung as soon as Lillian and I walked into the kitchen at home that morning. I'd been firm with Mildred, telling her that we had to get Latisha and Lloyd off to school and couldn't console her a minute longer. Lillian had taken a breakfast tray up to her before we left, and, considering the hectic night we'd endured, I felt we had done all that was required. Mildred hadn't liked it, but I couldn't help that.

“Well, Mrs. Murdoch,” the hearty voice on the phone continued, “I apologize for calling this early, but you know what kind of bird gets the worm. Thing is, I hear you're interested in that old wreck of a courthouse we got down here.”

I frowned and switched my mind away from Mildred. “Yes?”

“Well,” he said, seemingly taken aback by my lack of enthusiasm, “some of the commissioners tell me you think it ought to be preserved, and I wanted to talk to you about that. As the mayor…”

“Oh, you're the
mayor.
Well, my goodness, why didn't you say so?” I'd gathered who it was long before this, but I wanted him to know that not everybody in town had voted for him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Mayor?”

“Call me Charlie,” he said, regaining his heartiness. “I'm a man of the people and I don't stand on formalities.”

I did, so I didn't reply.

“Well, see,” he went on, “the reason I'm calling is to find out if you have an open mind on the subject. Now everybody knows you're one of the influential people around these parts, and I'd like to get you on the bandwagon to move our little city forward and into the twenty-first century. Listen, Mrs. Murdoch, or Miss Julia as I know your friends call you, and I hope I'm numbered among them, but it's like this, one of the developers, actually the main developer, Arthur Kessler, he's coming into town for a few days, and I'd like for you to meet him.”

“Why?”

“Why, so you can get the whole story straight from the horse's mouth. I think if you got to know him, you'd see how fortunate we are to have a man of his caliber wanting to invest in our town. I tell you, if you'd just look at his plans, you'd see what an asset that building will be to our whole community. Why, those condos're going to be the last word in luxury, and they'll draw an influx of wealthy retirees. And you know what that means? It means a higher tax base with no increase in children we'd have to build schools for. Just talk to him and get to know him. He might change your mind about the use of that prime piece of real estate where the old courthouse is.”

“Possibly,” I said, “but not likely. Still, I'm a fair-minded woman, and I'll certainly listen to what he has to say.” In fact, I'd not only listen to what a New Jersey developer had to say, I'd also make sure that he got an earful of what I had to say.

“Well, then, that's good. Nothing like a good heart-to-heart to clear the air. He'll be in late this afternoon, and I want to get you two together real soon.”

“We'll see,” I said, unwilling to commit myself but anxious to get off the phone and talk to Sam. Whoever heard of phoning so early in the morning anyway? The mayor was certainly eager to smooth the way for new construction on Main Street.

I'd barely hung up when Mildred called to tell me how she couldn't bear to be alone and could I please come back over, just in case Lieutenant Peavey turned up with bad news.

“And, besides, Julia,” she went on, “I'm feeling so poorly, it'd be wonderful if Lillian could come, too. There's so much to be done since Ida Lee's not here.”

“Mildred,” I said, suddenly coming up with the best idea I'd had in ages, “here's what you need to do. I want you to call the Handy Home Helpers and tell the owner that you need Miss Etta Mae Wiggins full time for the next few days. Tell her you need her day and night, even after Tonya gets back, and offer to pay whatever it takes to get her.”

“Oh, Julia, I'm not sure I want a stranger in the house.”

“Miss Wiggins won't be a stranger long. She's quite capable. Efficient and dependable, too. And, Mildred, she's the one who helped me recover our stolen jewelry, so you already have a connection to her.”

“Oh, is that the one? Well, I guess I could see if she's available.”

“You do that, and keep upping what you're willing to pay until she is available. Believe me, you won't regret it.” And neither would I, since Etta Mae would keep Mildred from pestering me.

“Oh, you're back.” Hazel Marie, already dressed for the day in spite of the early hour, pushed through the swinging door from the dining room. “I didn't expect you this early. Hey, Lillian, did you have a good night or did Mildred keep you up to all hours?”

“Just about,” I answered, as Lillian's eyes rolled. Since Hazel Marie had apparently slept through the uproar in the neighborhood, we began telling her about our harrowing night.

“An',” Lillian concluded, “you ought to see the hole Miz Allen put in that wall. It like to scare me to death when that gun went off.”

Hazel Marie was properly awed at our tale, and she was enthusiastic when I told her about Etta Mae Wiggins. “Oh, we should've thought of her yesterday! She does things like that for a living, and you wouldn't have had to stay over. I tell you, Miss Julia, I don't want you and Lillian staying another night with Mildred. She's dangerous with that gun—who would've believed it? And Tonya can just get right back here and take care of her own mother.”

It was certainly gratifying to hear Hazel Marie so concerned for my welfare, and Lillian's, too, of course. And as the rest of the household gathered for breakfast, we had to go over the whole story again and again. We were so taken up with telling it and listening to everybody's comments that we ended up eating in the kitchen, mainly because it was Lillian who enjoyed telling it the most.

Both Lloyd and Latisha were wide-eyed at the thought of Mrs. Allen wielding a shotgun. If it'd been up to me I'd have kept that part of it under wraps. Children don't need to know every little thing that happens.

Latisha was especially entranced, swiveling her head back and forth from one to the other of us as the events of the night were discussed. Finally she said, “I wish just one of y'all would talk, my neck's got a cricket in it from switchin' it around.”

Lloyd laughed. “A cricket! You mean a crick in your neck, don't you?”

“I don't know what it is, but I got it.”

Lillian came over and rubbed Latisha's neck, telling her to eat her cereal and stop listening to grown folks talking.

As Hazel Marie prepared to take the children to school, I pulled her aside. “Have you talked to Mr. Pickens?”

“I finally got him late last night, and it's just like you said. He can't do anything until he's hired by one of the principals.” She frowned, then went on. “That means either Mildred or Tonya, I guess. Anyway, he's got his hands full right now, doing some work for a big insurance company.” She looked around, then lowered her voice. “Investigating
fraud
! Don't you think that's an interesting coincidence? I mean, with Richard being accused of the same thing?”

“There may be different kinds of fraud, but I expect they all hinge on money one way or another. But listen, Hazel Marie, there may be more going on than meets the eye. I haven't told anybody all I know about last night—I'll tell Sam, of course—but we really need to talk Mildred into hiring Mr. Pickens.” I leaned close and risked telling her my suspicions. “Now, don't tell anybody, Hazel Marie, but I have reason to believe it was Horace trying to break in last night.”

Hazel Marie's eyes popped wide open. “
No.
Why?”

Lloyd, burdened with his bookbag, stood by the door jangling the car keys. “We gotta go, Mama. We'll be late.”

I whispered to her, “Run on. I'll tell you later.”

As they left, with Hazel Marie still on tenterhooks, I went in search of Sam.

Finding him in our bedroom, buttoning up a cardigan, I said, “Sam, I need to talk to you before you head out.”

“I need to talk to you, too. Come over here and give me a hug. I declare,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, “you gave me a scare last night. When I looked out and saw all the sheriff's cars and lights on all over, I thought my heart would stop. I nearly broke my neck getting there. I thought something had happened to you.”

“It was scary for me, too, though I don't know what scared me the most—a prowler halfway up the wall or Mildred swinging that shotgun around. But, listen, Sam, I don't think it was a prowler at all. I think it was Horace breaking into his own house.”

Sam pulled back to look down at me. “Really? What makes you think that?”

So I told him about the unlocked and unwired window that was only in Horace's room. “I mean,” I went on, “it was the only window I found that was accessible. There could be others, I guess, but I didn't have a chance to check them all. What do you think it means, Sam, if it was him?”

Sam's face was a study in deep thought. “I don't know, Julia, but if it was him, he obviously didn't want Mildred or anybody else to know he was there. And that unwired window leads me to wonder if he'd used that way in and out before.”

“Not without a ladder,” I reminded him. “The rooms in that house have such high ceilings, it'd be a long way to either jump down or climb up without help.”

“I don't guess you had time to walk around to the back and check that wall, did you?” I shook my head and he went on. “I may do that today after the deputies leave.”

“Why?”

“Well, that ivy could be on lattice or the bricks could be laid to provide footholds. I'd just like to satisfy my curiosity about his possibly going and coming that way. Because I agree with you that it could've been Horace. Who else would know where a ladder was located and which particular window would be unlocked?”

“Oh, my goodness, that scares me even more. That would mean he's hiding out and doesn't want to be found. And, Lord, Sam, what if Mildred had killed him? She'd never in this world get over it.”

In his wry way, Sam said, “Neither would he.”

I couldn't help but smile, though there was little humor in what had happened or in what could've happened. Still, it lifted my spirits to be attuned to Sam.

“Well, since you're in the mode of giving free legal advice,” I said, as I gave him a little dig about his activities over the weekend, “should I tell anybody else about this? Lieutenant Peavey, in particular. I'm hesitant to tell Mildred. No telling what she'd do if she thought he was alive and climbing the walls.” I smiled again. “Literally.”

“Let's just keep it to ourselves for a little while. We don't know who it was and we might create more problems by making Horace a suspect. At least for now, he's assumed to be a victim. Let's not make it worse until we know more.

“But, Julia,” he went on, “this means I'll have to go see Helen again, and I want you to know about it before I do. And I want you to know that she called me last night, because some deputies showed up and emptied Richard's office there at home. She was frantic, but they were within their rights and there was nothing to be done about it.”

My voice was as cold as my heart. “Did you go over there last night?”

He smiled. “No, I stayed right here.”

“So why do you need to go this morning?”

“Because the more I thought about what you said about a connection between Richard and Horace, the more I think it's likely. And if it was Horace climbing the wall last night, what is in his room or in the house that he wants badly enough to sneak in to get it? I want to hold Helen's feet to the fire and see what she really knows.”

“You sound like Mr. Pickens, so before you start investigating on your own, I wish you'd get him to help you.”

“Don't worry. I'm not doing any real investigating. It's just that after what happened last night when you could've been hurt, I have a personal interest in finding out what's going on.”

“Well, all right, but don't stay so long that everybody in town sees your car. I don't need LuAnne running in to tell me what my husband is doing.”

Sam put his hand over his heart. “I promise,” he said, but he smiled when he said it. “Oh, Julia, I almost forgot. The mayor called last night, too. He wants us, you especially, to meet one of the courthouse developers who's coming in today, and I sort of invited the man to dinner tonight. The mayor has another engagement. I hope you don't mind that I said to send him on. It'll be a chance to check this man out. Besides,” he said, pulling me close, “I don't want you meeting some strange man off on your own somewhere.”

“Tonight? Why, Sam, when the mayor called this morning, I didn't say anything about any dinner plans. He probably thinks we never talk to each other. But it doesn't matter. Since you've extended the invitation, I'd better get with Lillian to see what we can have. I'll tell you this, though, too much is going on for me to be all that impressed with somebody from New Jersey.”