Pumpkin Roll (39 page)

Mr. Forsberk was showing Jane some electronic gadget, which initiated Jane’s tinkling laughter and flirty “oohs” and “aahs.” Neither of them was paying Sadie any attention. The magazine title was
Bark,
like the name of Mr. Forsberk’s late pooch, and the articles listed down the left-hand side were all about grooming, travel, and the ten things your dog wants you to know.

Exactly why did Mrs. Wapple have a magazine about dogs, anyway? Mr. Delecorte had explained why Mrs. Wapple hated dogs so much, and Sadie didn’t think Mrs. Wapple would have changed her opinion so quickly. Sadie flipped to the table of contents, thinking about Mrs. Wapple’s habit of stealing mail. Had she stolen Mr. Forsberk’s subscription, requiring him to buy another copy? Her eyes stopped on an article titled “Inhumane Training: Become the Solution, Not the Problem.” Sadie flipped to page sixty-nine and immediately saw the green tube-like whistle featured in the sidebar. Sadie flipped back to check the date on the front cover: October.

“Mr. Forsberk,” Sadie asked, holding up the magazine. “Did you buy this?”

He pulled his eyes away from Jane and nodded. “Yes.”

“But don’t you have a subscription?”

He looked nervous. “How did you know that?”

“Well, you’re a dog lover, and the name of the magazine and the name of your dog were both Bark, which means you’d likely be drawn to a magazine like this.” She almost left it there, but instead finished sharing her thoughts. “And I saw this exact magazine at Mrs. Wapple’s yesterday, along with a lot of unopened mail. I didn’t look to see who the mail or the magazine were intended for, but I can guess that she stole your subscribed copy.”

“That woman was crazy,” Mr. Forsberk said with as much of an edge as Sadie had ever heard from him, putting her on edge as well. “This was a good neighborhood before she came. She ruined everything.”

“You’re right,” Sadie said with a nod. “Everything changed when she moved in. She screamed at people on the street, stole mail, and hated your dog. You were trying to drive her away, weren’t you? You wanted to get back at her.”

His neck and face went red, which meant Sadie was on to something. “Mr. Forsberk, whatever you’ve done will be discovered by the police. You’ll be in a much better position if you take the information to them yourself.”

“What’s this?” Jane asked.

Sadie stepped to Jane’s side. Mr. Forsberk turned too and then reached for the box Jane was holding, which she quickly moved away. Mr. Forsberk remained frozen as he watched her sift through the contents.

Jane pulled out a plastic-looking box. “A recorder?” she said, looking at it.

Jane turned the box in her hand and pressed something with her thumb. A horrible screeching noise assaulted Sadie’s ears, even though it wasn’t loud. Jane turned the box again and must have found the volume because the squawking noise increased. It lasted a couple seconds before it stopped and a series of clicks sounded. Another pause and the screeching repeated, making Sadie cringe and put her hands over her hears, hitting herself in the head with the magazine she still held. Suddenly the noise stopped. Sadie looked at Jane, who was looking at Mr. Forsberk, who held a small black remote control in his hand. He slowly lowered it to his side, but he looked scared to death.

“Angry birds,” Sadie said accusingly. “You planted that in her house to drive her crazy, didn’t you? That’s what you were carrying when I saw you last night. You wanted to get it out of her house before the police could find it.” Sadie was disgusted and knew that her feelings were showing in her tone of voice. She looked at the remote. “And you could turn it on and off any time you wanted to, couldn’t you? Just by taking a walk.”

Mr. Forsberk swallowed.

“And when it didn’t work fast enough, you attacked her,” Jane added. She’d given up on her flirty persona all together, and Mr. Forsberk looked even more horrified. “You could have killed her, you know.” She threw the recorder back into the box.

“I didn’t want to do that,” Mr. Forsberk said, shaking his head and looking as though he were about to cry. “I just wanted her to go away.”

“Well, I hope you’re satisfied, then,” Sadie said, throwing the magazine on the couch and putting her hands on her hips. “She suffers from migraine headaches and since coming here, she hasn’t had her medication. Add that to her mental issues and you may very well have driven her crazier than she ever was.”

“But I didn’t hurt her,” he said.

“Yes, you did,” Sadie responded.

“I didn’t attack her. At her house. Yesterday.” His eyes were wide and his prominent forehead glistened with sweat as he started to panic.

“Call the police, Sadie,” Jane said, throwing the box back on the table. “Tell them we found the man responsible for Mrs. Wapple’s attempted murder.”

“M-m-murder!” Mr. Forsberk exclaimed. “They said she was okay.”

“You better hope she is,” Jane said, fire in her eyes as she stared at the man who was nearly her height. “Or you’ll get the chair.”

Mr. Forsberk’s eyes bugged out of his head, and Sadie hurried to rein things in. It was time to help him see them as his allies. “You need to turn yourself in. We can help you do that.” She was due at the police station in half an hour; how would it be to show up with Mr. Forsberk and his confession in tow? That would certainly take some of the spotlight off Pete, who had been there for nearly five hours now.

“I didn’t hurt her,” he said again, pleading with Sadie to believe him, which, of course, she simply couldn’t do. “I didn’t do it!”

Sadie stepped toward him and tried to put a comforting expression on her face. “I’ll go with you to talk to the police,” she said. “I’ll help you explain.”

“I can’t go to the police,” he said, his eyes darting back and forth in a way that alerted Sadie to the fact that he was going to run. “They won’t let me go this time.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Jane said with disgust, watching him with narrowed eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. “They’ll lock you up like the sicko you are.”

“Jane,” Sadie said, giving her a pointed look. “Cool it.”

But it was too late. In the split second it took for Sadie to look at Jane, Mr. Forsberk grabbed the edge of the table between him and Jane and threw it toward her, causing the piles of electrical equipment to fall onto Jane as she stumbled backward into the wall, losing her balance and falling to the floor.

“Jane!” Sadie said, taking a step toward her friend before turning her attention back to Mr. Forsberk in time to see his back disappear down the hallway.

“Mr. Forsberk!” Sadie yelled before going after him, dodging a recliner and the toppled table. It wasn’t until she entered the hallway that she realized there was a back door at the end of it. She called after him again as he darted through it. Sadie stayed in pursuit out the door, down the back steps, and through the chain-link fence, but he was much faster than she was, and by the time she reached the alley behind his house, he had disappeared around the corner.

She took a few futile steps in that direction before realizing there was no way she could catch him. “Oh, biscuits!” she said as she stared at the corner. Then she turned back to the house while gulping for air. When she reached the top of the back steps, she nearly collided with Jane, who was coming out. They both screamed and jumped back.

“He’s gone?” Jane asked when they had both recovered.

Sadie nodded, still winded from her exertion.

“What a creep,” Jane said, looking toward the alley.

“He’s scared,” Sadie said, pushing down the desire to reprimand Jane for being so hard on him. She headed inside. “We need to call the police.”

“I already did,” Jane said. “They’re on their way.”

“Great,” Sadie said, but she could hear the flatness in her voice. She did not look forward to explaining any of this and yet, she had to admit her heart was a little bit lighter having solved one of the many mysteries threading through the situation. Sadie imagined Mrs. Wapple in her home, her head pounding with a migraine, while voices swirled in her mind, only to have a screeching, squawking noise burst out of some unknown place and make both of her conditions worse. That poor woman.

Less than five minutes later, a car pulled up in front of the house. When Detective Lucille came through the front door, she looked directly at Sadie while two uniformed officers entered behind her. She raised her eyebrows. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Chapter 34

After fifteen minutes at Mr. Forsberk’s house, Jane and Sadie were told to follow Detective Lucille back to the station to finish the questioning. They both agreed and hurried down Mr. Forsberk’s steps. “Do you think they’ll find him?” Jane asked.

“Eventually,” Sadie said. “He doesn’t strike me as the street- smart type who can keep himself underground for long.”

They looked both ways and crossed the street. Some of the neighbors were out, surely wondering what had drawn the police to their street again, but neither Jane nor Sadie paid them much mind.

“Should we drive together?” Jane asked but before Sadie could answer, Jane stopped on the sidewalk. Sadie had moved a couple of steps before she realized Jane wasn’t with her and turned to face her friend.

“What?” Sadie asked just as Jane started moving again, slowly this time. Her eyes were fixed on her car, and Sadie followed the line of sight. For a moment she didn’t see whatever it was that Jane was looking at, but then she noticed the slight drop of the left side of Jane’s car and realized the tire was flat; the rubber looked like a puddle beneath the rim. “Biscuits,” Sadie said.

Jane’s word wasn’t nearly so kind. She reached the car and crouched down to inspect the flat tire and cursed again. After a few seconds, Jane stood, shaking her head. “Wonderful,” she said dryly. “Now what?”

“Drive with me,” Sadie said quickly, putting her hand on Jane’s arm and pulling her back toward the sidewalk. Sadie’s rental car was parked a few feet up the curb and she fished the keys out of her pocket. “We’ll figure out the tire after the police station.”

Jane was hesitant at first, but agreed to Sadie’s terms. Sadie grabbed her purse from Heather’s, and the flat tire was quickly forgotten once they reached the police station. Almost immediately, she and Jane were taken into different rooms for questioning. As had happened yesterday, Sadie expected more yelling and posturing than she got at the station. Detective Lucille mostly listened and asked clarifying questions as needed about Mr. Forsberk. After that, Sadie was left alone for over half an hour. When Detective Lucille came back, she told Sadie an APB had been issued for Mr. Forsberk. They were just getting started again when the detective was called out of the room. Sadie waited another twenty minutes, her nerves ready to explode. It had to be getting close to eight o’clock. She needed to be in Boston by nine thirty to meet with Gabrielle.

Finally, Detective Lucille returned, but she didn’t sit. “We’ll need to finish this tomorrow,” she said. “Detective Cunningham says you’re staying at the Courtyard.”

“Um, yes, I guess so,” Sadie said. She hadn’t even thought about where she was staying tonight. Did that mean Pete had reserved her a room? She also realized that in all the questioning, the detective hadn’t asked her anything at all about Pete, and yet when she mentioned him just now, it was almost casual, not the way Sadie expected his name to come up. She wondered how his questioning had gone and if he was still at the station. She’d love to tell him everything she’d discovered today and find out what had happened on his end.

The detective pulled open the door, waving Sadie out of the room. Once in the hallway, the detective gave an officer instructions of what to do with Sadie and then disappeared into another room. Sadie looked around for Pete, just in case fate could have them cross paths in the hallway, but she didn’t see him. Just before Sadie was shown into the waiting area, an officer returned Sadie’s purse, which they had kept while she’d been questioned.

Jane was waiting for her and when Sadie entered, she threw aside the magazine she’d been flipping through. “About time.”

“Sorry,” Sadie said, glancing at the wall clock while digging her keys out of her pocket. “I’ve got to hurry and catch the T. Can you drive me to the Forest Hills station?” She held out the keys to Jane, who regarded them for a moment before taking them out of Sadie’s hand.