Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) (40 page)

BOOK: Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery)
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No matter what she had to do, she would make sure that he never got the opportunity to take her son away from her.
She would see to that
.
She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do but she knew
that
she had to do something
.
She sat down at the kitchen table
.
She needed to clear her head; she needed to figure out what to do.

How dare he think that he could just walk away from her, that he could start a new life free and easy and leave her with the responsibility of raising their son all by herself
.
And then what? Come waltzing back into David’s life when he was good and ready and try to take him
away
from her?
Did he really think that she would let him get away with that
?
Did he really think she was that stupid?

Little by little, a plan formed in her mind
.
The next day, she collected all of her husband’s clothes and personal belongings and stashed them in an old trunk in the attic
.
She
called a
locksmith and had
him change all the locks
.
Then she went to the bank and withdrew the little
bit of money that was in their joint account
.

She
smiled, remembering how she’d carried out the rest of her plan
.
He got
exactly
what he deserved, she thought
.
I did what I had to do
.
I put him out of my mind and out of my life
.
Good riddance to bad rubbish!

As soon as she got home,
she
went straight to the kitchen, filled her teakettle with water and turned the gas burner to high
.
She got a cup and saucer out of the cabinet and a tea bag from the metal canister on the counter marked “
T
ea
.”
She bent down and reached under the sink way in the back, retrieving the bottle of
Jack Daniel’s
that she had hidden there
.
The teakettle began to whistle and she carefully prepared her tea, adding the whiskey, stirring it and taking a sip
.

She
went
over to the thermostat and turned it up a couple of degrees
.
She left her coat and scarf on for several minutes so that the old furnace had time to heat the house up a bit and the tea had a chance to warm her
.
She’d always been cold natured and she hated being cold.
It made her angry that she couldn’t afford to turn the heat up enough to be
comfortable
.
Prices kept going up every year for gas and electric and, on her small income, she had to watch every penny
.
She especially resented the fact that she had to wear thermal underwear to bed and pile
several
heavy blankets
and quilts
on top of herself, just to keep warm
at night
.
She couldn’t sleep if she was too cold.

A few minutes later, after two cups of hot tea
laced with
generous amounts of
whiskey
,
she
teetered
down the hallway and into her bedroom. She reached under the mattress and retrieved her most recent journal.
She’d filled the last page
in the book
and needed to
start a new one
. Carrying
the book under her arm, she
went into the laundry room and flipped on the light switch. She reached up and pulled the rope, which was attached to a panel on the ceiling. With a loud clunking sound, the
rickety folding
ladder came tumbling down. She grasped the sides of the
ladder firmly and, struggling to maintain her balance, climbed up the stairs to the attic. When she
reached the top step, she
pulled the chain to turn on the single exposed bulb
.

She used the sleeve of her cardigan sweater to wipe
some
dust from the trunk
.
S
he
opened the lid and
stood, stooped over,
looking
down into
it
.
Through the years, s
he’d
kept
all of her completed journals
hidden
at the bottom of the trunk, under
a pile of
her husband’s clothes.
She reached down
, pushing the clothes aside
and
buried
the
book
with the others
.

“I guess you did have the last laugh,” she said aloud
to the photograph of David’s father, staring up at her
.
“If
I hadn’t lost my temper
, I could’ve collected on your social security
.
Maybe, if I’d been smarter back then, if I hadn’t let the rage consume me, I would’ve done things differently
.
I could’ve hired a good attorney and forced you to pay child support, maybe even alimony
.
But
I couldn’t take the chance that you’d come back into our lives later and try to take David away from me.
Well,
that’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it
?
You cheated on me then and you’re still cheating me now
.
I
can only
hope you’re rotting in Hell!”

She
slammed the lid of the trunk
,
grabbed
a new diary from the stack on a shelf near the stairs
and
pulled the chain to turn off the light bulb
.
She
slowly descended the stairs, holding tightly to the
sides of the ladder
, careful not to fall
.
She walked into the living room
, clutching the book
to her chest.

There were so many things she needed to write, all the events and emotions that were distressing her, but when s
he
glanced
down
at
her wristwatch
, she saw that i
t was almost five p.m., time for the local news
.
Writing in her journal would have to wait until later.
She hurried into her bedroom and lifted the corner of her mattress, stashing the journal under it.

S
he went back into the living room,
picked up the remote,
turned on her television set and sat down on the sofa
.
“Never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d have to
pay
for television,” she mumbled. “Eleven dollars a month for basic cable, just to get reception!”
She flipped through the channels. “And these damn commercials! Advertising sexual enhancement products on television, where children can see them!
How disgusting!

She
found one of the local news stations and
leaned back against the cushion, sighing.
The newscaster was reminding parents to take all necessary precautions to make this a safe and happy Halloween for their children.
She
turned the television off. She
knew that, in
only
an hour,
the little
trick-or-treaters would start making their rounds of the
neighborhood. By eight o’clock, the last of them would be trudging home where watchful
parents would separate their children’s bounty, looking for any sign of tampering
.
How horrible, she thought, that anyone could even think about putting razorblades or poison in a child’s candy
.
Why would anyone intentionally harm a child
?
What kind of world has this become?

She knew that she should fix something for dinner but she wasn’t hungry at all; she was too worried about David
and too angry with Ann
to eat.
She had to accept the fact that there was nothing she could do for David right now and she would have to wait until later to deal with Ann. But s
he needed to do something to distract herself from all the troublesome thoughts that were consuming her.

She
went
over to her piano and sat down, lifting the
fallboard
to expose the keys.
She was grateful that, as a child, a kind neighbor had given her free piano lessons. The lessons had gotten her out of her parents’ house back then and enabled her to take the position as church organist when it became available a few years ago. Now, she rarely played the piano other than to practice hymns for church services or special masses but, when she did, the music she played reflected her mood.
She flexed her fingers and began to play Mozart’s
Requiem
,
the last of his compositions
,
written
when he had a premonition of impending death
.

Chapter 3
9

 

ANN WAS STILL SHAKING WHEN SHE GOT HOME
from the cemetery
.
She set her purse on the kitchen counter and
went
into the living room.
Without even removing her coat, she sat down on the living room sofa and put her trembling hands over her face
.
My God, she thought, what a day
!
What else could
possibly
go wrong?

The sight of the handmade tombstone with its bold black letters had terrified
her
.
Who would do such a thing? she wondered
.
And why
?
Does someone want me dead
?
Does someone plan to kill me
?
Segments about the Westwood Strangler on TV flashed before her eyes
.
What if
he’s targeted me
as his next victim
?

What if something happens to me
?
Who would take care of my children
?
David’s in no condition to raise them
.
No, I’d want Marnie to take them, she realized, but if it came down to it in court, David would win because he’s their father and Louise would raise my children
.
Dear God, please don’t let that woman raise my children
.
Look what she’s done to their father
.

Stop it, she
reproached
herself
.
You’re not going to die, at least not for a long
time.
Don’t even think that way. No one wants you dead. The tombstone was most likely a couple of
neighborhood kids playing a
practical joke on you
.
After all, it is Halloween
.

Then she remembered the man dressed as the Grim Reaper outside her office window
.
She
shuddered
as she visualized the grotesque mask on his face, as he appeared to stare straight at her, pointing
and screaming
.
You’re getting paranoid again
, she told herself
.
It was probably just another Halloween prank
.
You have to think rationally
.
Don’t overreact
.

Her thoughts jumped to the scene with her mother-in-law
.
Louise had blamed her for David’s drinking problem and everything that was wrong in their marriage
.
Oh,
no
!
David
!
So much had happened that
she
had forgotten that her husband was still sitting in a jail cell in Indiana
.
Louise had screamed that she would take care of it
,
but would she
?
I can’t call her
.
I can’t deal with her right now
.
Should I call all of the Indiana jails
?
she
wondered
.
What should I do?

Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed; it was all too much
for her
to deal with.
Maybe it would help to talk to someone.
She considered calling her old friend, Bernie.
He would know what she should do about David and it w
ould feel good to talk to
him
about all that had happened lately, to unburden herself
.
S
he knew that Bernie would take her seriously and that he would listen without judging her but, when she mentally listed the things she would tell him, she had to admit that it all sounded a bit ridiculous. A man dressed like the Grim Reaper
, a black cat
and a handmade tombstone with her name on it
on Halloween
… .

BOOK: Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery)
4.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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