Slow Dancing (28 page)

“Tell Miss Cook to go home, but she should stay in town.”

“She never goes anywhere,” Dave said, snickering.

“Just tell her,” Faye snapped and left the room. Dave knocked on the interrogation room door.

“Mary, you’re free to go.” She looked up at him, squinting. He thought she was very attractive for a woman approaching middle-age, but she was a nut job.

“How am I supposed to get home? This place isn’t exactly in the middle of town.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved her over.

“Come on then. I’ll give you a lift.” It was a scary proposition being alone with her in a car. No one trusted Mary, for their safety or for the stories she might carry. She followed him out of the station, pausing as he stuck his head in the dispatch room.

“Rosalie, I’m going to drive Miss Cook home.” Making sure everyone knew where he was and whom he was with was more for his own peace of mind, but Rosalie looked at with him concern.

“Okay,” she answered. “I just saw Fred’s cab drive by. You want I should call him over?” Dave smiled and laughed, shaking his head.

“See you in fifteen. Call out the troops if I’m not back by then.”

When they got outside, Mary finally spoke. “Jesus, you act like I gonna ravish you. You’re not
that
cute, Dave.”

“Ha!” He laughed out loud. “That’s the problem with a small town, Mary. Everyone knows who the troublemakers are.”

“I’m highly insulted,” she answered.

“Yes, well be that it may. I’m to tell you not to leave town this week.”

“Where the hell am
I
going to go? Oh wait, tonight is June Extravaganza at Phillip Anderson. I can’t miss it.”

“Beauregard doesn’t count,” he answered. “You dancin’ in the contest?”

“No, just watchin’. But I’ll be dancing the rest of the time. You going?” she asked.

“Wife doesn’t dance,” Dave answered. “She’s about ready to hatch.” Mary didn’t reply, resentful that yet another local woman was going to have a baby and she was still alone and barren. The car pulled up to her house just as a stranger, a woman was walking down her steps.

“A boarder! Let me out of this damn car.” She opened the door before he was fully stopped but he slammed on the brakes as she jumped out. The woman stopped on the sidewalk, shocked to see the police car.

“Thanks so much for the lift, honey!” Mary said, waving at Dave as she climbed up to the sidewalk, smiling at the woman. “Just my boyfriend. Help you?”

“Is this your place?” She pointed over her shoulder at Mary’s house.

“Yep, it’s all mine,” Mary said walking up to the porch.

“I was told you rent rooms,” the woman said, taking in Mary’s disheveled appearance.

“Who told you? Frank?”

“No, some man at the grocery store. Bearded fellow.” Mary frowned; those characters at the check-out really were a nuisance most of the time. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed the door open and the familiar smell of her house wafted out along with the cold air.

“Just passing through?”

“Yep, just for the night. Took a wrong turn down in Mobile I guess.”

“Come on in,” Mary said, stepping aside so the stranger could enter. “No one here at the moment so you’re in luck.” She turned to close the door, looking on the street for her car.

“Leave your car uptown?” Mary asked. The woman didn’t answer so Mary turned to look at her and repeated the question. “Leave your car uptown?”

“Ah, yes. Uptown,” the woman answered.

Chapter 26

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. Frank and Ellen had fun dancing in Beauregard Saturday night, helping them forget what was happening back in Seymour. Sunday morning, trying to brighten Ellen’s day, he drove into town and got take out fresh pastry and french toast for breakfast, the café’s specialty. Although they tried their best to recover from the week, worries about the possible charges pending made them both ill, waking up Monday morning with a feeling of dread. Trying to sweep it aside by sticking to his routine, he got into the shower and ended up cutting himself shaving, his hands were shaking so badly. They were supposed to learn something about the allegations against him that day. Hopefully, the investigation would be dropped, but if not, he couldn’t imagine what he would do about Ellen. Margo came to mind; Ellen liked her and she was kind and trustworthy, so as soon as he was dressed, making sure Ellen was still asleep, he went into the kitchen and dialed Margo’s number.

***

Late Saturday night, Boyd left the hospital. He was tempted to stop by Margo’s, but forced himself to head straight home. Once he was sure his children were okay, he went back to the bedroom and called Margo.

“I was worried about you,” she said, angry. “When you left this morning you said you’d call me, that I’d see you. I expected you to be here for dinner.”

“Please forgive me Margo,” he answered, grasping for the right words.

“Are you home now? What happened, Boyd?” He told her about Carol’s accident, and although she felt sorry for the woman, she was livid that a clumsy mishap was enough to drive Boyd back to her and leave Margo in the dust. Incredulous, Margo needed to hear him say the words.
They were through
. “So are you saying you’re not leaving her now?”

“Please forgive me, Margo. I know it sounds like a lame excuse, but I can’t do it to my kids.” It was more than that, he couldn’t do it to Carol, either. But he was trying to avoid a blowup and using finesse was the only way to do it.

“Fuck you, Boyd. Don’t
ever
call me again.” She slammed the phone down and burst into tears. Immediately regretful, she tried to call him again but he didn’t answer. It would be a sleepless night.

Sunday was hell; she knew he was at the hospital with his wife but had no way to contact him and he probably wouldn’t have taken her calls anyway. She debated going to the hospital to confront him, but aware it would be unprofessional, maybe enough for her to lose her job, she dropped it. Between bouts of uncontrollable sobbing, in which she’d listen to melancholy love songs, and forcing herself to do something productive, she got through the day. Longing to hear his voice after two days of silence, she stayed busy wishing Monday morning would hurry up and arrive so she could go to work.

Standing in the kitchen, she drank morning coffee while holding an ice bag to her swollen eyes, looking out over the lawn. The heat of summer would soon do a number on her garden and this year, she wouldn’t fight it, let nature take its course. The ringing phone snapped her out of her stupor.

“It’s Frank, Margo. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Oh, no, Frank. I’m awake. Just waiting to start my day as usual. Everything okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “I should hear something about the prosecutor making a case against me.”

“Oh, right,” Margo said, empathy for him driving some of her own angst away. “I don’t think it will come to that, Frank.”

“I need to be prepared, just in case,” he replied. “You’re about the only person in town Ellen and I trust. You
are
the only person. I know this is a lot to ask. If I’m put in jail, or if they take her away from me, can she stay with you? I’m sick thinkin’ they might place her in one of those awful foster homes you read about in the paper.” Margo’s heart rate sped up. Frank just paid her a compliment she didn’t deserve. It was her call to Boyd that started the whole mess against him, giving the words of gossips life, fueling their hatred.

“I don’t deserve this,” she said, fighting tears, self-pity and condemnation flooding over her. “Frank, I would be honored to take care of Ellen if it comes to that. But you don’t know what you’re saying. I’m not that great.”

“Look, all I care about is my kid is taken care of by someone I trust and admire and that’s you. There ain’t
no one else
, Margo. No one.” Margo sat at on a stool at her kitchen counter and started to weep. Thinking of her empty life, in which getting involved with a married man was the most exciting thing she could conjure up, persuading him to leave his wife and kids, Margo really didn’t deserved the trust Frank was placing in her. It was an answer to prayer. He was waiting for her reply.

“Okay, Frank, don’t worry about Ellen. She has a room here with me if need be. But I don’t think that it’s going to be a problem, okay? Let’s not be premature.”

“Thank you, Margo. Thank you,” he said, choked up. “I have to wake her up now. But I’ll be in touch later.” They said goodbye and hung up.

The sound of Frank’s voice, the praise he gave her and trust he put into her, although undeserved, triggered a complete one hundred-eighty degree change in Margo’s mood so that what Boyd had done in betraying her no longer mattered, as a matter of fact, his timing was perfect. She stopped thinking about him all together. What she’d wanted was a chance to get Frank’s attention and it looked like she’d succeeded. Everything was falling into place. Looking in the hallway mirror on her way out, Margo was pleasantly surprised how pretty she looked. “Have a nice day!”

***

Faye Baker was at her desk early Monday, her boss and two detectives sitting across from her, deliberating. “So it’s agreed, we have no case against Frank McPherson.” The others nodded their heads.

“Agreed,” they echoed.

“Good. Now we can concentrate on Alan Johnson.” They closed one file and opened another, thicker file. “We have two knives, one a steak knife from the café and the other a carving knife from the same manufacturer, both covered with Mary Cooks fingerprints.”

“The only problem is that she works at the café,” Dave Madden said. “Boyd was able to smuggle his steak knife out without a problem
after she gave it to him
with his lunch. How do we know the same thing wasn’t accomplished with the carving knife?”

“We don’t,” Faye replied. “Does the café do a knife inventory?”

“They do, and that knife is missing. We have her neighbor’s testimony that after Johnson left Mary’s place she had a temper tantrum and smashed the mug he used on her driveway.”

“Sounds lame to me,” Henry said. Faye hit her palm on the desk.

“Bring her back here,” she told him. “She’s at work by now at the café. Please bring me back a blueberry danish.”

“I’ll go,” Dave said.

“Go with him,” Faye said, pointing at Henry. “She’s trouble and God knows we don’t want any more belly punches.” The detectives left the office, laughing but feeling badly for Boyd.

Faye sat across from her boss. “What’s next?” he asked, looking at his watch.

“I want to reopen Margaret McPherson’s death investigation.”

He pushed his chair away from her desk. “Knock yourself out,” he said, saluting her and left the room. Opening the file in front of her, she reread the nurse’s testimony from Hallowsbrook, listing the onset of symptoms and the speed at which Margaret succumbed. Pulling her phone close, she dialed the number of a nurse friend of hers who might be able to unlock the mystery behind the gibberish that was the autopsy lab reports and spot something someone, including the coroner missed. It was a long shot.

***

Judy checked her watch, tapping on the crystal. Looking up at the wall clock, she could see that the time was correct, just as it had been when she checked it ten minutes ago. Mary was never late. She might get to work just in time, but she always arrived so Judy could leave. Today, she was forty minutes late and not answering her phone. Judy couldn’t leave the café to go check; Mary could have overslept in a drunken stupor, or fallen and hit her head.

Turning her back to make fresh coffee, the bell on the door rang. She looked up just as Dave and Henry walked in. “Sit anywhere you want,” Judy said.

“Isn’t it time for Mary to be here?” Dave asked.

“She’s late,” Judy said. “I’m getting worried because she’s never late.”

“How ‘bout we take a run down the street and check it out for you?” Henry asked.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Judy said, gratefully. The men left, returning to their squad car, just as they saw Boyd pull up to the garage.

Faye called Boyd, asking him if he’d do the honors. “Go tell your buddy to dry his tears,” she said. “No charges will be brought against him. But warn him to get something in writing as far as custody for his kid goes. He needs to do it pronto.” She wished she could arrest the old biddies in town who spread the lies, not realizing they were younger than she was.

Ellen was sitting at the counter checking their appointments for the day when Boyd came through the door. She frowned, but was polite. “Frank’s in the garage.”

“Thanks,” he said, opening the door and stepping down into the bay. Frank looked up at Boyd and the color drained from his face.

“Its okay, Frank,” he said holding his hands up. “They aren’t pressing charges.” Frank slumped against the car, his hand holding a wrench going to his forehead.

“Thank God,” he said, shaking. “I need to tell Ellen.” He put the tool down and went to the door.

“Make sure you get legal custody of her, Frank. The prosecutor asked me to remind you.”

“Okay, I’ll start that ball rolling today.” He opened the door to the office. “Ellen! It’s okay. Everything is okay,” he said and she hopped down off her stool running to him for a hug. Boyd waited until they parted so he could get through the doorway.

“I need to call Margo and let her know,” Frank said. Boyd stopped short, the mention of Margo’s name making his heart speed up.

“Why’s that?” Boyd asked.

“She offered to take care of Ellen if this thing took hold and I lost custody of her. I need to tell her she won’t have to now, but maybe in the future, if I die before she’s of age, Margo can step in.” Boyd looked at Frank through different eyes, as a competitor who would be good for Margo, better than he could ever be because Frank was single. The thought bothered him, and on the cusp of a jealous outburst, he channeled it into a positive comment on behalf of Margo.

“Margo would be a wonderful parent, Frank. I think you’re making a smart move. You should consider it while you’re still alive.”