Remote Consequences (11 page)

As I backed out of the neighbor's drive and began to turn the wheel back to the right, I did a little more than a cursory glance back toward the mayor's house. There, sitting on the front porch, was Myrna Mills—the mayor's wife. She swung back and forth on the porch swing and she didn't look happy. In fact, if I could use one word to describe her expression it was: murderous.

*  *  *

Twenty minutes later, we were home, and Paget was awake and alert in her room, singing along with the music on her iPod. Dr. C. had given it to her for Christmas last year, and she kept the earbuds in almost all the time now. Of course, she didn't always have them hooked up to the unit itself, but she liked the way the ear buds blocked out the yelling. Or so she said.

I couldn't stop thinking about the police search ongoing over at Sugar Pines. I wondered what had happened when Ty found the body.

I wondered if it was a murder?
Murder?
This was the first time the word had really sunk into my mind. Sure, it didn't look good that a body was in the mayor's house. But what if it had truly been some kind of accident? What if there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for a body…in a freezer…in the attic? Ms. Lanier had been right. This was a job for a real man. If we couldn't get one of the guys from
CSI
, maybe Colin Brooks would be the answer.

Where to begin? I searched my brain for possible suspects as I started a load of laundry. Getting myself into a domesticated state of mind wasn't easy for me. I'd spent so many hours at work back at school that I rarely did laundry anymore. How odd was that? Living in scrubs day in and day out, there'd been little need for a civilian wardrobe. I needed to go shopping.

But the thought of shopping pained me. I hated shopping. I hated the hustle and the bustle and the whole shopping atmosphere. Maybe I could just do some shopping online. The thought appealed to me immensely.

So after I had the laundry sorted and chugging away in the laundry room off the kitchen, I peeked in on Paget for the tenth time in less than an hour. Still in her room. Still singing.

I padded down the hallway to the living room. Pickles eyed me from the sofa.

"Fine. You can have the sofa. I'll sit at the desk."

That dog ran the house. If only he paid the bills. I gave him a quick ear rub as I slid my laptop off the coffee table and settled in the desk chair nearby. I used my toes to push the rolling chair to the window and looked out on the yard. Small tufts of grass protruded from the cracks in the sidewalk. A sea of dandelions covered the lion's share of the lawn. I'd always liked them. They were cute and soft and delicate. But they were weeds. And they spread like wildfire.

Yep, the grass needed cutting. Something else to add to my growing list of things to be done.

One, do the laundry. Two, find some clothes to buy online so that I didn't have to wear jeans and tank tops every single day. Three, hire someone to cut the grass. Four, try to keep sister in the house for the rest of the night. Five, get ready for Colin to drop by at eight. A small flicker of some emotion I couldn't define hit my belly at the thought of the new mystery man in my life. Was it fear? Was it excitement? Maybe just the thought of embarking on some sort of wayward adventure with him had me feeling giddy. God knows I needed some sort of distraction in my life. I didn't know if becoming a sleuth was what I needed, but somewhere between wearing a cocktail on my head and facing off with my first love today, I'd decided to give it a go.

At least Colin didn't have a past with me. He didn't insist on bringing up old grudges and ridiculously petty arguments that had absolutely no place in the current moment. He was someone new with a past all his own. The only question was, what was his past? Was he really a spy?

He hadn't said the word, but he'd alluded to it.

Could my life be any stranger right now?

I fired up the laptop and waited for it to boot up.

*  *  *

Two hours later and I'd not purchased any new clothes. Instead, I'd been researching the Brooks family. I'd found no mention of Colin. In fact, the only possible mention of him was in his grandfather's obit. Part of it read that he was survived by "two grandsons," but then no other mention of the elusive Colin. I knew of one grandson, of course, who just so happened to be the current Lieutenant Governor of Alabama. But having a second grandson who was completely a secret? In a town this small, with mouths this big, this was absolutely unheard of.

Was it possible to have your entire history erased? On purpose?

A tap on the door made me jump, and I hurried to close the computer and shuffle to the door. The darkness outside was almost complete now, coming later these days, thanks to the genius who invented the Daylight Savings Time idiocy.

Don't get me started.

With my earlier thoughts about the business of murder back on my mind, I snatched a golf umbrella from the bin by the door. I answered with caution pounding in my gut, hoping to see Colin; my stomach growled in expectation of the food he'd promised to bring.

"Well, aren't you in a better mood?" The voice wasn't the raspy tone belonging to Colin, and it certainly wasn't accompanied by heavenly scents of my future stomach contents. Instead it was the infuriating voice of Ty Dempsey.

I bit down on my lip to quell a smarty-pants reply of my own. "Can I come in?" He nodded toward the kitchen behind me.

I stepped back and allowed him to enter. How many times had he been in this very same kitchen over the years? After he cleared the doorway, my eyes did a sweep of the front porch. No mystery man. No food. Sigh.

I closed the door behind me, crossing my arms over my chest, umbrella still in hand.

He turned to face me. He looked tired. Eyes dark. Stress evident on slightly scruffy cheeks. "What's with the umbrella?"

I uncrossed my arms and let it slide down to the floor. Wrapping my hand around the curved handle. "A girl can't be too careful with a possible murderer on the loose."

At the pointed words, he squinted. "We didn't find a body, Mandy."

I attempted to swallow, but my mouth was dry, and the mechanics of the simple throat-clearing maneuver eluded me.

"But it was there, Ty. I don't know what else I can do to convince you."

"I believe you." His words were simple and yet surprising.

"Well, it's about time." His eyes caught mine, and I knew he was biting back his temper. I pressed on. "Did you find the freezer, at least? There might be some DNA in there."

He shook his head. "We went through the official motions. Got the judge to sign off on a warrant and everything. But, when we arrived, the mayor consented to the search, and we found mostly nothing."

"Well, when your sister bends and molds the news to fit her liking…it sort of tips off the suspects, don't you think?"

"Leave Penny out of this…" He swept his hand out toward me in an I'm-drawing-the-line motion. The Dempseys stuck together, and when one turned on you, they all turned on you. It was the story of my life, but I let it drop for now.

"So, what now?" I asked.

"The floor had been recently swept. Who sweeps out their attic on a regular basis?"

I nodded, looking down at the umbrella in my hand and then returning it to the bin by the door. I knew the implications of what he was suggesting. "Did you find anything else suspicious? What did they say when you questioned them?"

Ty rapped his knuckles on the kitchen chair's seatback and seemed to study the chair for a moment. "Same chairs you've always had. Floral Naugahyde. We did our homework here over Aunt Patty's brownies more than once."

The nostalgia in his voice surprised me. It almost sounded longing.

"I miss her." My own words surprised me. I hadn't taken the time to express my grief to anyone. I'd had to remain strong for Paget. I'd had to handle Aunt Patty's affairs, find a job, and get organized. Well, I still wasn't organized, but I'd been a little busy in the last few weeks. I hadn't taken any time for myself.

Ty's study of the chair had refocused into a study of me. I watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he managed that swallow that had failed me earlier.

"I'm sorry about everything, Mandy."

Now
that
was a loaded apology. What exactly was he referring to? About Patty? His accusations about how I'd been negligent in my care of Paget? Or sorry for all those things that happened so many years ago? My mind whirred with the possibilities.

"Listen, I wanted to bring the mayor and his family in for questioning. But the captain says that we just don't have enough. There is definitely something suspicious going on here, but without the body…"

His words brought me out of my deep analysis. "I understand. I guess we just wait, then." My voice was suddenly thick with held-back tears.

"You okay?" He took a step toward me, and I took a step back.

My response seemed to surprise him, but he didn't pursue it. He took one more look around the open kitchen and nodded.

"Guess I should go. Tomorrow will be an interesting day. We're reopening the missing persons case of Caden Brooks."

His words reached my ears, but my brain took a few beats to catch up. I'd been momentarily lost in my own world. "Wait. I thought you didn't find much there. How can you have enough to open that case?"

Ty walked to the door and pulled it open. The white lace curtain swayed, and he looked back over his shoulder as his booted feet crossed the threshold.

"Based on your statement, Mandy. You're now our star witness."

Oh, great.

It is a lonely washing that has no man's shirt in it. –Irish Proverb

Ty closed the door behind him, and I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, feeling it swell and deflate under my shirt. I was the star witness. The only thing between the mayor's family walking away scot-free and the possibility that they could be harboring a murderer amongst them.

A light tap on the back door interrupted my thoughts. What was it now? Ty had forgotten to tell me something? I took the two short steps and yanked open the door.

"Chinese?"

I blinked at my mystery man. He held a huge paper bag from which heavenly scents were escaping. He also held a box with the word
Chopstix
on it.

I stepped back and motioned for him to enter. This man spoke my language.

"You just missed the police."

He gave a single head nod. "A particular talent of mine. Kind of like a superpower."

"Oh, I have superpowers as well."

"Really?" He seemed very interested in hearing more. He placed his presents on the table and began to remove the boxes of food from the bag.

"Mandy, who is
he
?"

How could I have forgotten that Paget was in the house? For all I knew this man could be dangerous. It was one thing for me to put myself in danger, but Paget was a different story altogether. It was almost like I kept forgetting that she was in my life. It was a terrible realization that seemed to slap me in the face. The muscles between my shoulder blades tightened in response. My eyes darted around for something I might use as a weapon if needed. But, sadly, there were no rolling pins or umbrellas within my immediate reach.

"Uh, Paget…this is a friend of mine. He brought us some dinner. You like Chinese food, don't you?"

"Friend" might have been a strong word, but I didn't want to frighten her. I took a few cautious steps forward and put myself between him and her.

She started to sway from foot to foot. A nervous gesture. I began to regret having Colin show up like this. I should have thought to have him come by later, when Paget was asleep.

He'd been watching the exchange between us and stopped his food distribution to open the Chopstix box. I'd wondered what was in the box, and as he extended it toward my sister, I became even more suspicious.

Paget lifted her chin, and we both took a curious look. Inside, it was lined with thin rows of paper-covered wooden chopsticks. Just stack after stack of disposable sticks. It was a bulk quantity box of chopsticks.

"These are for you." Colin presented them to her as if he were presenting a queen with a jewel on a pillow.

I watched the exchange between the spy and the sister.

Paget studied Colin and then studied the box. She seemed hesitant for a moment. Almost as if it was a trick that she was scared of falling for. Then she took the box and hightailed it back in the direction of her room. Pickles stood in her place eyeing Colin in apparent hopes that he'd be next to receive a gift.

"How did you know?" My heart did a little flutter step that surprised me.

He shrugged. "I've done a little research on her condition. You hungry?"

"Always."

We sat and ate. The room was silent—save for the smacking of Pickles' jowls as he wolfed down some beef lo mein. This man was a mystery with an agenda of his own. But he had taken the time to learn about my sister. He knew that with her type of illness she loved numbers. She loved to count and she loved large, neat quantities of the same item. That box of chopsticks would thrill her more than any diamond ever could.

I knew that I'd have to force her out of her room and make her take time to eat—but in the meantime, she'd be happy. And that was a big score for the mystery man. I found myself liking him almost a little too much. This could be dangerous—in more ways than one.

*  *  *

After dinner, he dropped the bombshell.

"I guess you heard from your cop friend that they moved him."

Him.
For the first time in the last two days, my brain focused on the fact that this body I'd found was someone important. He was important to Colin. He believed this was his missing father.

"I did. But what now?"

He shrugged then leaned back in the chair. It tipped onto the rear legs. I'd always wanted to master that seemingly cool move, but I knew that I'd definitely tip over and kill myself in the process. I noticed a small scar at the bottom of his chin. It was short, about half an inch in length. But I could tell that it was from a deep gash that may not have been sutured properly. I wanted to ask about it but held back.