Lye In Wait: A Home Crafting Mystery Part 31

"Tell me."

The look Jacob sent my way could have started a brushfire, and I took an involuntary step backward. "What the h.e.l.l kind of nonsense are you fillin' her head with now?"

Debby grabbed his arm. "Stop it. I'm sick of being treated like an invalid. I want to know the truth."

He snorted. "Truth? This woman just wants a little excitement in her life. Don't got nothin' to do with the truth."

Well, naturally that rubbed me the wrong way. "Hey. If you could just-" pull your head out of your a.s.s... "-listen for a moment. I'm not making it up. The police are very close to arresting the murderer."

Jacob's nostrils flared.

Debby said, "Really?"

"Yes!"

"Prove it. If you know so much, tell me who killed my Walter."

"I bet I know who they're looking for," Jacob said.

Debby whirled. "Who?"

Jacob paused, then said, "Walter's first wife. She's been in town. Guess the police heard that, too." He squinted at me. "Am I right?"

I didn't answer, but my face must have given it away, because he nodded and turned to Debby. "I figured as much."

"His first wife! But why... how do you know she's here?"

"I, uh, saw her. With Walter. She was lookin' for money, I guess. And he said she's a real piece of work-meaner 'n a snake."

An accurate a.s.sessment.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Her momentary grit had vanished, and only the little girl voice remained.

"He just wanted her gone, Debs. He didn't want you bothered with any of it." Jacob's expression now held nothing but concern for his sister, and I could have been on Mars for all he noticed me. I found his focus on his sister a little unnerving.

"Debby," I said. "Are you okay?"

She turned bewildered eyes on me. "What's her name?"

"Debby!" Erin's voice from the bottom of the stairs saved me from answering. "What are you doing here?"

Debby blinked, then turned to Erin. "Honey, how are you?" She held out her arms, and Erin glided into the hug as if from long practice.

"Um," I said. "You two know each other?"

Erin nodded happily, ignoring my questioning look. Little imp.

Debby said, "Walter introduced us. Turns out Erin's quite the little Mariners expert."

"Not like Walter was," Erin said. "He knew everything about baseball, and not just the Mariners, either. He had all kinds of stories."

"Really?"

"He did," Debby replied, more at ease in this conversation and with Erin than any of the times I'd seen her with her brother. Now he shuffled backwards, physically extracting himself from potential conflict. He went back into my storeroom. Had he been jealous of Walter? Was he still?

Debby continued. "Walter loved two things: baseball and nature. He was going to be a scientist once, did you know that?" I made a noncommittal sound, and she continued. "But I bet he knew more about baseball than any commentator."

"I don't think Tootie knew that about him."

"Well, maybe I'll tell her."

Erin skipped into the storeroom. I heard her say, "Hi! I'm Erin. Doesn't it smell great in here? This one over here's my favorite."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs preceded Meghan into the room.

"Have you seen my offspring?" she asked.

I gestured with my elbow. "She's in there."

"Okay. Don't tell her I asked."

"Stalking your kid again?"

Debby looked puzzled.

"Funny," Meghan said, leaning against the end of the counter. "But she is getting pretty sick of me d.o.g.g.i.ng her heels."

"At least she's feeling better," I said.

Meghan nodded. "Seems to be."

"Uh, Sophie Mae?" Debby said, and my eyes followed her gaze.

Grace Thorson stood in the doorway, a scrawny silhouette against the bright daylight.

"Where's my granddaughter? Where's my sweet little girl?"

THIRTY-EIGHT.

SHE MINCED INSIDE ON her spike heels and peered around the room. Richard followed behind. Meghan and I gaped.

"Where's little Erin? She's not in school today. I want to see my granddaughter!" Then her gaze fell on Debby. "Who are you?"

I jumped in. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Thorson. Erin isn't here right now." From the corner of my eye I saw Jacob moving toward the storeroom doorway. Grace couldn't see inside the storeroom from where she stood. With my hand at my side, I waved him back without moving my head. Erin's small hand snaked out and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back out of my sight.

"Well, where is she? When will she be back?" Her face twisted, and she turned on Meghan. "You can't stop me from seeing her forever."

"I'm sorry, but it'll have to be another time," Meghan said, her composure returned. She shot a meaningful look at Richard. It was either lost on him or else he didn't care if his mother made a scene. "I'll call you, and we can set something up."

"Nice try, honey. But I want to see her now. I know she's not in school. Where is she?"

"She's not here." Meghan spoke as if to a slow child.

"I know that. You said that. So call and have her come home." Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. "Or Richard and I could just go pick her up. Have that lunch you were too high and mighty to take her out of school for."

Richard said, "She with your new boyfriend?"

"What?" Meghan looked confused.

"Ha!" Grace said.

Richard stuck his chin out. "What, you think I couldn't tell how chummy you were the other night? And then you drag him over to my apartment. What did you think you were doing?"

"Wait a minute. You mean the detective who came over when you were here the other night?"

Richard snorted. "You're right, Mother. Won't even admit what she's exposing my daughter to."

"Exposing...? You've got to be kidding."

They glared at each other in a moment of electric silence. Grace hummed under her breath and looked on with an indulgent gaze that made my skin creep.

Meghan said, "He's not my boyfriend. He's a police detective."

"So you said. What was he doing here? Huh? And why was he with you when you came over?"

"Why didn't you answer the door?" I asked.

He sent me an acidic look. "I wasn't home. Or else, believe me, I would've been happy to give the guy a piece of my mind."

"Sure you can spare it?" I mumbled, and beside me, Debby smiled.

Richard's chin jutted forward again. "What did you say?"

"I asked how you knew Meghan had been there if you weren't home."

"My neighbor told me." He turned on Meghan. "And if he's not your boyfriend, why would you bring this detective guy around, anyway? Trying to get me in trouble?"

Why, I wondered, would she bring Ambrose around if he were her boyfriend? I mean, it'd probably be worth a lot in the romance department to never expose a man you were interested in to d.i.c.k.

Her eyes met mine. She didn't want to tell Richard that Ambrose wanted to question his mother about the murder.

"We had a break-in," I said.

Richard's eyes narrowed, then he gave an elaborate shrug and examined the ceiling. "So?"

"So Detective Ambrose wanted to question everyone who might know where the spare key was."

His gaze reverted to me. "You b.i.t.c.h. You told him I did it."

"Richard..." Meghan began.

"Did you?" I asked.

He gave me his best glare. I bet he practiced it in the mirror, it was so good.

"Well, did you?" Meghan asked.

"That's a stupid question," he said.

But he didn't deny it.

"Come on, Mother," he said.

Grace swung her head back and forth. "No. I want to leave something for Erin first. In her room."

"Mother, there's nothing... let's just go, 'K? We'll take her out another time."

"You're such a pathetic sap, d.i.c.kie-Bird. Your wife, excuse me, ex-wife pushes you around like you're nothing. Of course, it's a miracle you found anyone who'd want to marry you in the first place. I suppose it'd be too much to expect that you stand up to her like a man." Grace drifted around the room as she spoke, not looking at anyone, trailing her fingers along surfaces as if marking them with her scent.

A waxy pallor overtook Richard's usual healthy tan, and his Adam's apple jogged convulsively up and down his neck. He looked at the floor as she went into her diatribe, shouldering her vitriol like a helpless child, and my perception twisted for a moment, allowing me to see this obnoxious man as an emotionally abused boy. I thought of how that beautiful child might have turned out had he been raised by a loving father, by Walter Hanover, and how Walter's life might have been so different from the train wreck it turned into if only he'd been able to raise his son. Anger flooded my veins as I watched Grace's blithe destruction of a man I didn't even like, her casual delivery of insults as if from long practice.

"But I guess there isn't a lot I should expect from you, is there, d.i.c.kie-Bird? After all, you are your father's son. Too bad. Too bad you weren't Daddy Bly's. Maybe you'd have picked up his knack for making money. I hoped maybe he'd rub off on you, but no such luck. You just have to do the best you can with those useless dreamer genes you got from your father."

"Is that why it was so easy to kill him, Grace?" The words spewed out before I even thought of stopping them. The look on her face granted me a disturbing feeling of satisfaction. Debby stared at me, then swiveled to Grace, to Richard, and back to me again. Richard's eyes flicked up at me, then back to the floor. I didn't dare look at Meghan.

The shock on Grace's face faded, to be replaced by lip-curling scorn. "Well, aren't you clever."