The Big Brush-off (16 page)

On the way to the inn, I told Laura about Edwin reading my chapters and the package in the mail to Mildred.

“I'm so happy for you. I can't wait to learn what Mildred thinks.”

“If she doesn't like what I wrote, I'll have to find a new line of work.”

“Nonsense. There are plenty of publishers. George Putnam certainly owes you a favor.”

I didn't want any favors. I wanted to earn my success like I had all my life.

“Besides, Mildred is going to love it!” A twinkle danced in Laura's eyes. “So, what are you going to do now?”

I couldn't hold back a smile. “Help you find Katie's killer.”

She kissed my cheek. “Darling, we make a wonderful team.”

We sat at a booth in the Hanover Inn dining room with Katie's yearbook between us. We ordered the house wine and spaghetti and meatballs, though I was certain Ginger didn't cook Italian as well as Gino's mother.

As we waited for the food, I glanced at Katie's yearbook between us. “After spending a few hours with George Hanson, do you think he's capable of murder?”

“Absolutely.” Laura spread a napkin on her lap. “Within a half hour of meeting the broad, I wanted to strangle his wife. I'm sure George feels the same.”

I was sure he behaved differently around students when his wife wasn't around.

Ginger brought the house wine and two glasses. I reached for the bottle and winced.

“Something wrong, darling?”

“While you were spending the afternoon enjoying the company of the Hansons, I played catch with Freddy.”

I managed to pour each of us a drink and set Laura's in front of her. I told her about Freddy's assessment of Hanson and Father Ryan and how Edwin planted the seed that Katie's killer might not be any of the leading suspects.

Laura set the yearbook on the table. “Her killer might have been a classmate. There were a hundred and twenty-eight students at Hanover High the year Katie was killed.”

After sipping the wine, Laura read some of the messages. “I would have thought Katie's boyfriend, Alan, would have written something more personal, something along the lines of what you wrote in my yearbook.”

What had I written?

She stared off into the distance. “Laura, I'm so pleased we've become friends this year.”

“I didn't write that.”

Her nostrils flared. “You most certainly did!”

“I'd yet to develop my literary skills.” I took a sip of wine. “Alan probably thought he'd have opportunities to write in other yearbooks. Did Luke Jackson write anything?”

Laura skimmed through the pages. She ran a finger down the last page and chuckled. “ ‘Katie, you're a really sweat girl.' ” She smiled. “I think he meant sweet.”

Spelling probably wasn't one of his skills. “I hope so.”

Ginger brought a tray with the two plates of steaming spaghetti and another with warm breadsticks. She blew a wisp of red hair from her forehead. “Anything else?”

Laura smiled. “We're fine.”

When Ginger hurried back to the kitchen, Laura glanced at the yearbook then twisted pasta on her fork and took a bite. “Why would a fellow student kill Katie?”

I shrugged. “It could be someone she rejected in favor of Alan.”

“There were a lot of flirtatious comments one might expect in a pretty girl's yearbook. If you have any more paper, I'll make a list of boys who expressed an interest in Katie. We could track them down to see if they still live in Hanover.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever decide to give up acting, you'd make a wonderful detective.”

A baseball rolled into the dining room.

I reached down and scooped up the ball before it rolled past.

Laura speared a meatball and gestured with the fork. “Excellent stop, Mr. Gehrig.”

I glanced into the lobby. Freddy was standing beside the front counter. “Toss it back, Mr. Donovan.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “Remember your arm, dear.”

“I'll be right back.” I stepped into the lobby and handed Freddy the baseball.

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan.” He thumped the ball into his mitt.

“You seem to know everyone in town.”

“Most everyone drops in from time to time.” Freddy grinned. “And I'm a friendly guy.”

“You know Luke Jackson?”

Freddy glanced around and lowered his voice. “Hope he's not in trouble. He's a swell guy, sells cigarettes to kids behind the gym.”

Ginger stood in the doorway of the dining room, hands on hips, her face the shade of her red hair. “Dishes are backing up.”

Freddy pointed to the front counter with his mitt. “Pop told me to watch the front counter.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “I'll listen for the bell to ring.”

“I'll get right on it, sis.” While Ginger hurried back into the dining room, Freddy slapped the glove and ball on the counter. “Traitor.”

I followed Freddy into the dining room. “By the way, I met Principal Hanson's wife today. And from what I could see, Evelyn's not exactly a looker.”

Freddy grinned. “Maybe you weren't looking in the right places.”

I hadn't given up the idea that the boyfriend, the teacher, the priest, or the cop killed Katie. Laura and I discussed them all before going over the lists of students well into the night.

The next morning we woke early. We went down to the lobby with the yearbook and the lists, intent on talking to Mary Caldwell about Katie's classmates.

We greeted Edwin, who was behind the counter, but before we made it out the door, Rita Banks came in swinging a camera. “My photographer bailed on me. You're on your way out. Hope you have time for a photo.”

I glanced at Laura, who nodded.

Edwin looked like a proud father as he tidied up the place. Rita pulled a couple of flashbulbs from the pocket of her blue suit then positioned us in front of the counter. She snapped several shots. “Thanks for the photos. The story runs tomorrow.”

“Right.” I tried to blink away pink circles from the flashes. “How well did Nancy Oldfield know Katie?”

Rita dropped the hot bulbs into an empty trash can. “They grew up together and were tomboys, climbing trees and riding bikes.”

I glanced at Laura, who looked as surprised as I was. “So they were friends.”

“Best friends.”

Best friends? Meek Nancy Oldfield and the popular Katie Caldwell?

Rita disconnected the flash from the camera. “As often happens with kids, they drifted apart when they got older. Katie grew out of her tomboy stage when she reached high school. According to Mary, Katie tried to remain friends, but Nancy withdrew into herself. It didn't help that Nancy's mother took sick and she had to take care of her. While Katie was turning into a butterfly, Nancy remained a caterpillar, caring for her mother.”

Laura took my hand and led me onto the deck. “We have to go.”

Freddy came bounding up the deck stairs in his baseball uniform. “You ain't going anywhere in your Ford. You have two flat tires.”

What? “Two?”

Freddy and I hurried down the steps and bent down for a close look. I ran my hand along the sidewalls and inspected the damage. Someone had slashed both front tires.

Laura, Rita, and Ginger approached. Rita snapped a picture of the damage then pulled a notebook and pencil from her jacket. “Looks like you're making enemies, Jake.”

I rose and wiped my hands on a handkerchief.

Laura shook her head. “Why are people against finding out the truth?”

I'd grown tired of the town's resistance. I led her away from the others. “It's not about truth. George Hanson, Father Ryan, even Alan have friends in town. Think about what might happen if George Hanson was arrested. People's jobs could be affected.”

“So, it's about money?”

It was easy for people like Laura and me, people with money, to criticize the behavior of folks who didn't have any. “For the most part.”

“I'll call a tow truck.” Ginger ran inside.

After Rita left, Laura and I drank coffee in the shade of the west deck, where I wrote the first chapters of my new novel. Two deer stepped from the tree line and grazed alongside the pond. Laura groaned when a loud truck rumbled toward the inn, causing the deer to bolt.

We walked toward the sound. The tow truck from Sam's Garage parked in front of the Ford. The driver in a blue jumpsuit climbed out and inspected the tires. Alan Tremain.

Ginger, with freshly touched-up makeup, rushed onto the deck and bounded down the stairs. “Hi, Alan.”

“Ginger.” The young man looked her over.

I whispered to Laura, “Is it my imagination, or did Ginger powder her nose after calling Alan?”

“It's not your imagination.”

As I approached, Katie's former beau glanced at me and looked as if he'd been caught making eyes at the warden's daughter. “Somebody slashed your tires.”

“This used to be a friendly town.” I introduced him to Laura, who thanked him for coming so quickly.

Ginger stared at Alan like he was a movie star.

Alan politely tipped his cap to Laura then unfastened the winch and attached the hook to the front of the Ford. When he finished, he wiped his paws on a blue rag and stuffed it in his hip pocket. “You want me to replace the tires?”

“How much are new ones?”

“Firestones will run you four bucks apiece, but I might be able to patch these.”

I shook my head. “Go ahead and put on new Firestones.”

“It's your dough.”

Laura smiled at Alan. “I met a friend of yours today.”

He fished the truck's keys from his pocket. “Yeah? Who's that?”

“Nancy Oldfield. She's sweet as can be.”

“A friend of mine?” He scratched his head like he'd never heard the name before, but it looked like an act.

Laura appeared to think so too. “You two went to high school together.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Laura shrugged. “She was friends with Katie, so I assumed you were friends as well.”

“Oh, that Nancy, the one who works at the bank?” He raised an eyebrow. “She say we were friends?”

Laura shook her head. “Not in so many words.”

“Well, we're not friends and never really were. This town seems to enjoy spreading lies about me.” His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I could see the man driven to rage. “No offense, Miss Wilson. I don't know who's been feeding you this malarkey, but the truth is Nancy Oldfield and Katie weren't close in high school, only when they were kids.” He yanked open the tow-truck door and climbed behind the wheel. “It's a slow day. I can have your car back in a couple of hours.”

“See you later.” Ginger watched him drive off with our car in tow.

Freddy stepped onto the deck and waved. “Bye, Ginger's boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Ginger turned on her heel. She brushed by her brother and entered the hotel, banging the screen door.

Freddy had cleaned up. In tan trousers with a fresh crease and a yellow cotton shirt, he bounded down the steps with an apple in one hand. The kid had even combed his hair.

“Her boyfriend?” Laura nodded toward the front of the inn.

“She'd like him to be, but I'm pretty sure Alan's not interested.”

“Why not?” Laura asked.

“He's got plenty of dames. He's kind of the town playboy, like I'm going to be in a few years.” Freddy took a bite of the apple. “By the way, Alan's lying about Nancy.”

Laura cocked her head. “What's he lying about?”

“Last week I was on my way to play ball. I rode my bike down her street and saw his tow truck parked around the corner from her house. As I passed the alley, I caught a glimpse of our town's playboy hopping over Nancy's fence into the alley. He headed for the tow truck. I don't think he saw me. I told you, nothing gets by me.”

“You sure it was Nancy's house?”

Freddy nodded. “It was the Prune's, all right.”

I glanced at Laura then asked, “The Prune?”

Freddy nodded. “You've seen her bun, right?”

“Oh!” Laura's face reddened. “She's sweet and attractive. Nancy's shy, that's all.”

Freddy glanced at his shoes. “Sorry, Miss Wilson.”

“Why didn't you mention this sooner?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I didn't think of it until I heard him deny knowing Nancy.”

Katie's boyfriend and Nancy? The town playboy and the Prune with the bun? Alan parked his tow truck around the corner to avoid someone seeing him in front of her house, same as I did when we visited Katie's house.

Laura appeared to be thinking the same thing. “Maybe Nancy was having car trouble.”

Freddy shook his head. “She doesn't own a car.” He took another big bite of the apple and swallowed.

“Maybe”—Laura stared at her hands a moment—“maybe he dropped by for breakfast.”

Freddy rolled his eyes. “Before he said goodbye to Nancy, I set my hand on the hood of the tow truck without Alan seeing me. The hood was cold. I saw that in a movie once with George Raft.”

Laura nodded. “Okay. I'm convinced. He spent the night. I can understand why Nancy wouldn't want the whole town to know about her romance. And perhaps Alan's the kind of guy who doesn't want to ruin Nancy's reputation in the community.”

Freddy laughed. “Yeah, Alan's just that kind of guy. Maybe he likes cats.”

I smiled. “Or prunes.”

Laura's mouth dropped. “It's not nice to call people names. Shame on you.” She glared at me. “Shame on you both.”

Freddy glared at me. “You know, if you tell your wife everything I saw, I may have to quit talking to you.”

He finished the apple and tossed it toward a trash can alongside the inn's front steps. When it rattled inside, he thrust both hands in the air. “Two points!”

I studied the young man's clothes. “You're all dressed up. You going to church?”

“Church, yeah, that's it. I'm going to confession and want to look nice when I spit out all my sins. Maybe the priest will go easy on me.” He rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I'm going to the movies…with the fellas.”

Freddy didn't comb his hair for
the fellas.
As he walked away, I smiled at Laura. “I think young Freddy Conrad has a date.”

Laura grabbed my arm. “I'm worried about Nancy. She might be dating Katie's killer.”

“Sweetheart, she knew Alan was a suspect from the get-go.”

“Still, I want to warn her, I have to warn her. We'll have a girl-to-girl talk about what louses you men can be.”

I couldn't help but smile. “We don't have a car.”

“It's not too far to walk to Nancy's bank.”