Deadly Traditions, page 20
Placing my hand on his arm, I said, “Talk to me. What was going on with Freddy?”
“Max.” He shook his head.
“You know I’m the only one you can talk this out with. Mother and Dot would go all to pieces.”
“You underestimate them.” He sighed. “When he came here on Christmas Eve, Freddy gave me a gun wrapped in brown paper and bound with twine. It has his boss’s fingerprints on it.”
“I’m guessing the gun was used to commit a crime?”
“A murder,” he said. “Of a policeman.”
“Did the boss ask Freddy to get rid of the gun or something?”
“I suppose so, but Freddy wanted out of the organization and chose to use the gun to blackmail the boss into letting him go.”
I groaned. “That wasn’t terribly bright.”
“No.” He nodded toward the newspaper. “You see where that got him. Poor Freddy. He wanted an honest life with Mavis but didn’t know how to go about getting it.”
“Why come to you? The two of you had fallen out of touch.”
“That’s why. Freddy didn’t think any of his boss’s lackeys would think to look for him here.”
“Did he ask you to hide him here?” I asked.
“No. He knew better. I’d never risk my family’s lives for anyone.”
I gave his arm a squeeze. “What did he hope to gain by leaving the gun here?”
“Well, naturally, the boss wants the gun back. Freddy figured that if he was caught but didn’t have the gun with him, he and Mavis would be safe until he worked out a deal with the boss.”
“But the boss wasn’t negotiating.”
“Obviously not.” He looked at me. “I’m frightened. Not for me but for the rest of you. This gun I foolishly agreed to hide for Freddy cost him and Mavis their lives. Their killers could come for us next.”
I stiffened. “You think they know he came here? To our house?”
“I don’t know what they know. The newspaper said Freddy and Mavis were from Chicago and were believed to have been in town visiting family for the holidays.” He sipped the coffee and grimaced. It had apparently grown cold. “I want you, Dot, and your mother to leave and–”
“No!” I quickly glanced around to make sure Mother or Dot wasn’t coming down the stairs and had heard my outburst. Lowering my voice, I went on. “Send them away if you want to, but there’s no way I’ll leave you here alone at the mercy of some goons.”
“I got myself into this predicament, Maxine. I’ll get myself out of it.”
“You did not get yourself into it. Freddy got you into it. Why did he keep saying you owed him anyway?”
“Because I left him in the woods that night and the criminals recruited him. Had I not left him, he wouldn’t have gotten involved in–”
“Oh, please. Nobody’s buying that. He stayed because he wanted to.” I tipped his coffee cup onto the newspaper.
“Max!”
“Oops.” Gathering up the coffee-soaked newspaper, I said, “Here’s what we’re going to do.” I wadded the paper up and threw it into the garbage can. “Mother and Dot don’t need to know what happened to Freddy and Mavis. If anyone should ever mention them or their deaths to us, we’ll act as shocked as anyone would be to hear of their deaths. We have no newspaper this morning because of clumsy me, and we won’t get a replacement.”
Dad put his hand over his mouth. Looking back, I’m certain he was trying to hide a grin at my trying to control the situation. “Sweetheart, we can’t simply pretend none of this ever happened.”
“True, but we can’t live in fear of something that might never happen either. If you send Mother, Dot, and me away, it’s going to look suspicious to anyone would might’ve been following Freddy.”
“That’s a good point.”
“It’s an excellent point.” I brought him some fresh coffee, wiped off the table, and kissed the top of his head. “You’re raising a genius, you know. I’m going to make breakfast now, and we’re going to enjoy ourselves until someone gives us reason not to.”
That reason came sooner than I was expecting.
We were sitting at the dining room table playing Parcheesi when there was a knock at the front door. Daddy and I exchanged glances.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
“Nope.” He kept his tone light, but I could hear the vein of steel in it. “Your turn is coming next. I’ll go.”
I didn’t want him to. What if he opened the door and got shot? “Aw, let’s not answer it. We’re having such fun.”
He ignored me and went to the door. I clenched my fists beneath the table as Mother moved her game piece around the board.
“Mrs. Collins!” Dad exclaimed loudly. “What a nice surprise!”
As I deflated in relief, Mother said under her breath, “Ugh. Let’s go and be sociable if we must. Maxine, it’s your turn when we get back.”
Mother didn’t care for Mrs. Collins. She said the woman was a busybody. I wasn’t crazy about her either, but I was delighted she was the person at the door.
When Dot, Mother, and I joined Daddy and Mrs. Collins in the living room, there was a man with them. My eyes widened and flew to Daddy.
“Ladies, this is Mrs. Collins’ son, James, who is home for the holidays,” Daddy said.
Sizing up James, I asked, “Why have we never met you before, James? We’ve lived next to your mother for years.”
James, a ham-fisted palooka with slicked back hair said, “It was only thanks to a Christmas bonus my new employer gave me that I was able to come visit Mom at last. Some of us aren’t as fortunate as others.”
“What others?” I asked.
“Maxine, don’t be rude,” Mother said.
“It’s all right,” James said. “It’s simply that we couldn’t help but stare at the visitors you had on Christmas Eve.”
“They were ever so elegant,” Mrs. Collins said. “Were they relatives?”
“No.” Daddy smiled. “The man was someone I grew up with. I hadn’t seen him for nearly three decades.”
“They didn’t stay long,” James said.
The nosy apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“They did not,” Daddy said. “It became obvious quickly that apart from reliving a few childhood memories, the two of us had little to talk about.”
“That’s often the case with old friends, isn’t it?” Mother smiled. “You realize you don’t know each other at all anymore. Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“I’d love a cup of coffee,” Mrs. Collins said.
“Nothing for me, thanks.” James looked around the room. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
Daddy thanked him as Mother went to get Mrs. Collins’ coffee. The clock’s ticking seemed deafening as I wondered if Mrs. Collins had recognized our Christmas Eve visitors as the murder victims in this morning’s newspaper. Should we have told Mother and Dot about their deaths? Was Mrs. Collins or her son going to ask about that next?
“Where do you live, James?” Dot asked.
“Up north.”
“It must be hard not to get to come home and visit your mother often,” she said. “I’d be heartsick if I had to go years without seeing my family.”
“It is difficult,” he said, “but I’m here now.”
“What do you do up north?” I asked.
“I work in a factory.”
Mother returned and handed Mrs. Collins a cup of coffee on a saucer that matched the cup. “Are you sure you won’t have anything, James?”
“Positive. You know, it’s odd an old friend coming to visit you out of the blue like that. Did he let you know ahead of time he planned to drop in?”
“No. I didn’t even realize he knew where I lived,” Daddy said.
“How about that.” James shook his head.
I didn’t see any resemblance between him and Mrs. Collins. Of course, for all I knew, he could be the spitting image of the late Mr. Collins.
Dot opened her mouth to speak, and I was terrified she was about to entertain Mrs. Collins and her son with the haunted house story.
“Dot,” I said quickly. “Why don’t you play that new song you learned?”
“Oh, please do,” Mrs. Collins said. “I’d love to hear it.”
“Um…okay.” Slightly frowning at me, Dot moved to the piano bench and began to play. She played with deliberation and nervous tension. It suited the mood in the room perfectly, as far as I was concerned.
James got up and moved closer to the fireplace.
“Are you cold?” I asked, going to stand beside him.
“No, dear. I suffer back pain from an old injury.” He smiled down at me. “I’m unable to sit for too long at a time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. May I get you a pillow or something?”
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
After Dot finished her song, Mrs. Collins requested her to play Silent Night.
“I’m afraid I don’t know that one,” Dot said. “But Mother does.”
Mrs. Collins didn’t have to twist Mother’s arm, and it was at least half an hour before the playing of Christmas carols ended.
At that point, James said, “Mother, I feel we’ve imposed on these good people long enough.
Mother and Daddy made the requisite polite protestations, but we were all relieved when they were gone.
“What did you ask that man when you went to stand with him by the fireplace, Maxine?” Mother asked as we sat back down to our game of Parcheesi.
I told her and then picked up the dice. “I didn’t like the looks of that guy. I felt like maybe he was snooping around where he had no business.”
Mother clucked her tongue. “You’re always suspicious of people.”
“Better suspicious than naive.” I rolled a four.
“Weren’t Freddy and Mavis supposed to come back today?” Dot asked.
“They were,” Daddy said. “I imagine something came up.” He gave a hollow-sounding chuckle. “That’s Freddy though. Always was one to flit from one thing to the next.”
Chapter 6
On The Second Day After Christmas
I came downstairs the following morning to find both Mother and Daddy in the kitchen. Daddy had the week off from work, and I was glad of that. I didn’t want him out of my sight until I felt confident that this Freddy business was behind us.
Wanting to speak with Daddy alone, I said, “Mother, why don’t you go play us something, and I’ll make breakfast.”
She was a hard nut to crack, and she probably figured I was up to something. “I’ve already got biscuits in the oven, and I’d prefer not to wake your sister until they’re done. If you’d prefer to speak with your father alone, the two of you may go to the living room.”
“There’s no need, Max,” Daddy said. “She knows.”
“How?” I asked.
“A double homicide in our town isn’t so common that the newspaper wouldn’t carry the story two days in a row,” she said. “Especially when the killer or killers remain at large.”
Huffing out a breath, I said, “Well, for goodness’ sake, don’t tell Dot.”
“What did you want to talk with me about in particular?” Daddy asked.
“The gun.” I sat at the table beside him. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to turn it in to the police,” he said.
“You can’t.”
“Why can’t he?” Mother asked. “We’ve been sitting here discussing it, and it’s the most reasonable solution.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Freddy ditched the thing here thinking his not having it with him would keep him and Mavis safe. But it didn’t. If Daddy leaves here with that gun, he might end up like them.” I looked from Mother to Daddy. “Don’t you see? The shooter thought one of them was carrying the gun. Now they’re dead, and their killer still doesn’t have the gun. People know they were here. If you leave–” I broke off, unable to continue.
He covered my hand with his. “What do you suggest, sweetheart?”
“Call the police and ask them to come here.”
Mother stood and went to the oven to check the biscuits. “I don’t know. The police are trying to solve this case quickly in order to reassure the townspeople that there’s not a madman on the loose. Some ambitious young officer wanting to make a name for himself could come here, make your father look guilty, and arrest him.”
“Okay, then I’ll take the gun to the police station.”
Both parents bristled at my suggestion.
“It makes perfect sense,” I said. “I can deliver the package, say I found it in the street or something, and –”
“Why are you afraid for me to leave the house with the gun but believe it’s a fine idea for you to do so?” Daddy asked.
“I’m an innocent young lady, Daddy. Neither the murderer nor the police will think I’m up to anything.” I batted my eyes.
“Innocent, my Aunt Fanny.” Mother slipped on oven mitts and removed the pan of biscuits from the oven. “We’ll discuss this after breakfast. I’m going upstairs to wake your sister.”
When I heard Mother climbing the stairs, I told Daddy, “You know I’m right.”
“Let me think on it.”
Our breakfast was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” Mother’s glare dared any of us to contradict her.
While Dot happily ate her biscuit and jam, Daddy and I locked gazes and strained our ears to hear what was happening at the front door. I, for one, couldn’t hear a thing.
Mother returned momentarily, said the visitor was collecting for the widows and orphans fund, and asked Daddy for some money.
As he took out his wallet, I asked Mother, “Have you ever seen this person before?”
She rolled her eyes, “No, Maxine, but–”
Before she could finish her sentence, I was out of my chair and on my way to the foyer. There stood an old woman who was a head shorter than I was and at least twenty pounds lighter. I could see why Mother didn’t find her threatening.
“Hi, there,” I said. “Mother is getting you some money for the… what organization did you say you’re with again?”
“The Abingdon Women’s League,” she said. “We’re collecting for the widows and orphans fund.”
“Interesting. I’d have thought you’d do that before Christmas rather than after.”
Giving me a thin smile, she said, “We depleted the fund before the holidays making distributions to those in need. Now we have to build it back up.”
Mother arrived and handed the woman a couple of bills. “Of course.” She shot an angry glance in my direction before asking the woman if she’d like a cup of coffee to warm her before she went back out into the cold.
“No, thank you. I appreciate your hospitality and your donation.”
She left, and Mother and I returned to the kitchen.
“Aren’t you ashamed for giving that poor old lady the third degree?” she asked me.
“Absolutely not. I merely don’t want our family to be snookered.”
“I’m grateful we have you looking out for us,” she said. “Heaven knows the adults in this family aren’t as wise and worldly as you are.”
“That’s not–”
“Sit down and finish your breakfast.” Her tone left no room for argument.
“Yes, ma’am.” I sat down at the table and tore off a piece of the biscuit I’d been eating. I didn’t want it now, but I put the bread into my mouth to keep Mother from accusing me of being wasteful or unappreciative.
Following breakfast, I went upstairs and took one of my favorite dresses from the wardrobe. I still had every intention of going to the police department, even though I wasn’t sure Mother and Daddy would allow me to go. Maybe I could suggest taking Dot along.
It was as if she knew I was thinking about her because the little imp barged into my room and plopped onto my bed. “What’s up with you?”
I shrugged. “What’s up with you?”
“Come on. We don’t hide things from each other, and you’ve been acting weird since yesterday morning.”
“Have I?”
“Max, tell me. I know it has something to do with Freddy and Mavis. I overheard Mother and Daddy talking about them. They’re dead, aren’t they?”
I sat on the bed beside her and took her hand. “It’s nothing to do with us.”
“But it is. The person who killed them might come looking for us. That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That’s why the three of you tense up whenever you hear a noise outside?”
Running my free hand over her hair, I seriously considered lying to her. But she was right–we didn’t hide things from each other, and we didn’t lie to each other. As desperately as I wanted to protect my baby sister, I didn’t want to lose her trust.
“Yes,” I said at last. “It is.” I told her everything I knew, up to and including my plan to have Daddy hand over the gun for me to take to the police station.
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
I nodded. “Two innocent young ladies walking down the street are more inconspicuous than one.”
She grinned. “Or one innocent young lady and one know-it-all.”
“All right, Mother. Go get dressed.”
She was laughing when she left my room. I wondered if her laughter was hiding a fit of nerves. My insides certainly felt as if they were turning to jelly. I’d be so relieved when we got that gun out of our house.
Chapter 7
Gumshoes, Sugar Cookies, And Things That Go Bump In The Night
I heard voices as I descended the stairs–Mother’s, Daddy’s, and a deep, unfamiliar baritone. I quickened my pace.
In the living room, I found my parents with a man of about forty years of age. He was wearing a brown suit beneath a tan overcoat. Had Mother not offered to take the man’s coat? Or had he refused to take it off? Maybe he was hiding something.
“Maxine, this is Detective Sharp with the federal police,” Daddy said.
