St. Patrick's Day Murder (15 page)

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Authors: Leslie Meier

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Women Detectives, #Stone; Lucy (Fictitious Character), #Irish Americans, #Saint Patrick's Day, #Maine

BOOK: St. Patrick's Day Murder
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“We had no reason not to,” said Bill. “Besides, people are trusting. It’s human nature. Almost anyone can be conned.”

“These con men are good actors,” said Barney. “Some of them even believe their own nonsense.”

“For all we know, Moira could be one of those crazy women who steal other people’s kids,” said Lucy. “We don’t even know for sure that Deirdre is really her child. She could have been abducted. Maybe that’s why she’s always talking about fairies stealing children.”

“Now, Lucy,” began Barney. “There’s no sense jumping to conclusions.”

“I don’t think I jumped fast enough,” said Lucy. “I feel like a fool. I knew there was something dodgy about Dylan, but I didn’t want to face it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Barney.

“Well, the morning I met him, when he walked into the newspaper, he said he was right off the plane from Ireland, with his wife and daughter. But Deirdre said he didn’t fly with her and Moira, and when I asked him about it, he, well, he didn’t really give me an answer. He just said lots of married people take separate flights.”

“They do,” said Bill.

“But what if he took an earlier flight, days earlier?” replied Lucy. “Then he could have killed Old Dan.”

Barney was skeptical. “His own brother?”

“If he really is his brother. He could be faking,” said Lucy. “He could have killed the real Dylan Malone back in Ireland, for that matter. Maybe he even killed Moira and made up the story about the note.”

“Lucy,” said Bill, getting up and standing behind her so he could wrap his arms around her. “Stop. This isn’t productive. You’re just making yourself miserable.”

“I can’t help it,” she said, sniffling. “I keep having these horrible thoughts. I’m so scared.”

“Me, too,” said Bill. “But whatever happens, we’ll get through it. Together.”

She nodded. “Together,” she said as the phone rang.

They turned and stared at it, holding their breaths as Barney picked up the receiver.

“Good,” he said, nodding away. “I’ll tell them.” His face was all smiles. “They’ve been found. The girls are fine. Everything’s okay.”

Barney provided an escort, driving his cruiser with the lights flashing and siren blaring, and Bill and Lucy followed in the Subaru, speeding down Red Top Road and on through town, to the police station. Sara and Molly stayed behind, assigned to spread the good news among the neighbors who were still out in the darkening afternoon, searching for the girls.

Barney drove on into the parking lot behind the station, but Bill slipped into a parking space on Main Street, right in front, and they ran inside to the waiting room, where their progress was halted by a sturdy, metal-clad door. Nevertheless, they could hear Moira’s voice, which penetrated even the thick, bulletproof Plexiglas that separated the waiting area from the reception desk. They didn’t even have time to explain their mission to the officer who was seated there before Barney, who had gone through the rear entrance, opened the door for them. Behind him, in the large office filled with desks and filing cabinets, they only had eyes for Zoe, who was sitting on a chair and holding a can of soda. Lucy ran past the desks and scooped up her daughter, embracing her in a hug. Bill joined them, making what they laughingly called a “Zoe sandwich.”

“Stop!” protested Zoe, who wasn’t normally allowed to drink soda and was determined to make the most of this opportunity. “I’m going to spill my Coke.”

Bill took the can and set it on the chair, and they resumed the hug, squeezing her tighter than before. “I never want to let you go,” said Lucy, covering her daughter’s face with kisses. “Never, never, ever.”

“You’re squeezing me,” groaned Zoe, trying to wiggle free.

“And I’m going to keep on squeezing you,” said Bill. “You gave us an awful scare.”

Zoe adopted a puzzled expression. “Why did the policemen bring us here? Did Mrs. Malone do something wrong?”

A high-pitched shriek from Moira distracted them, and Zoe broke loose, reclaiming her seat and her soda.

Bill and Lucy stared at Moira, who was at the center of a group of uniformed and plainclothes officers and was putting on quite a performance. “This is police brutality!” she shouted, stamping her foot and tossing her red curls imperiously. Perhaps reprising a role she had played on stage, she was protectively clutching a very pale and wide-eyed Deirdre to her side. “You had no right stopping me and dragging me here. And the way I’ve been treated! Grabbed and shoved! I’ve had enough! Come on, Deirdre. Let’s go.”

At this, the officers stepped closer, blocking her way.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you go until you’ve made a statement,” said one. “The state police are in charge now, and they want to ask you some questions.”

“This is intolerable!” shrieked Moira, eyes blazing. “I’m a woman, a mother.” She squeezed Deirdre, who yelped in pain and unsuccessfully tried to free herself from her mother’s grip. “You can’t treat me like some sort of criminal.”

“If you don’t calm down, I’ll have no choice but to confine you in the lockup.” Recognizing the calm, unflappable voice, Lucy turned and saw Detective Horowitz.

“Jail! You can’t do that! I haven’t been charged with anything. I’m innocent,” shouted Moira. She smiled cunningly. “And what about my wee one? Are you going to put her in jail, too?”

“If you don’t calm down and start cooperating, I’m going to charge you with kidnapping,” said Horowitz. He paused, letting this sink in. “We will make arrangements with social services for the proper care of the child.”

“Kidnapping! You can’t kidnap your own child,” said Moira.

“Actually, you can,” said Horowitz. “It happens all the time in custody disputes. And let’s not forget the other child in this case. Zoe Stone.”

“Right,” said Bill, stepping forward. “I think we deserve an explanation.”

Now aware of their presence, Moira turned and acknowledged them, rather like a queen receiving her subjects. “I merely took the girls for a drive. A little adventure. I see no harm in it.”

“But we didn’t know where the children were,” protested Lucy. “We were terrified they’d been abducted.”

“As it happened, I was rather concerned myself when I found them all alone and unsupervised,” said Moira, narrowing her eyes. “I understood they would be watched by your older daughter.”

“They were. Sara only went out for a minute, because the dog ran away,” said Lucy.

“It was much longer than a minute,” said Moira, self-righteously. “I waited for quite some time, and when she didn’t return, I decided I’d better take them both with me. I certainly didn’t want to leave little Zoe all by herself. I don’t know about you Americans, but in Ireland we take a dim view of leaving young children unattended.”

“If you’d waited a few minutes more, I’m sure Sara would have returned,” said Lucy. “And, in any case, why didn’t you leave a note?”

“It didn’t seem necessary,” said Moira, with a shrug. “Where else would they be, except with me?”

At this, Lucy lost her temper. “They could have been anywhere! Children are abducted all the time by sexual predators!”

Moira sniffed. “Sexual predators! That’s a new one. You Americans are out of your minds. You see sex in everything.”

“Don’t you realize the trouble you’ve caused?” asked Horowitz. “There was a three-state alert, and we were about to expand it to the entire New England and mid-Atlantic regions when you were spotted.”

“Well, I don’t see how any of this was my fault,” insisted Moira. “I simply took the girls to the shore for a bit of fresh ocean air.”

“We were looking for selkies,” volunteered Deirdre.

At this, Zoe chimed in. “And we found one!”

Chapter Twelve

W
ith Zoe safely belted into the backseat of the Subaru, Lucy breathed a sigh of relief as Bill shifted into gear and they headed home, passing Dylan, who was hurrying up the steps to the police station. The sigh turned into a sob as she thought how things might have turned out differently, and the tears stung her eyes.

“Why are you crying now?” asked Bill. “It’s all over. Everything’s fine.”

“I know,” said Lucy, wiping her face with a tissue. “It’s just…well…
what if?

“Don’t think about it,” said Bill. He glanced in the rearview mirror, checking on Zoe. “What we need to think about is what to do with a little girl who’s been very naughty.”

Zoe giggled nervously, and Lucy turned around to face her. “That’s right. You gave us an awful scare. Why did you go with Mrs. Malone? You know you’re not supposed to go with anyone without permission.”

Zoe hung her head. “She said it would be okay, that she was giving permission.”

“Mrs. Malone?”

“Yup. She said we would have a big adventure, and you wouldn’t want me to miss it.”

Hearing this, Lucy felt a surge of anger toward Moira. What sort of person would persuade a child to disobey her parents?

“Zoe,” said Bill in an admonitory tone. “You know better than that. You only get permission from Mommy or me or whoever we leave in charge, like Sara. That’s so we know where you are and that you’re safe.”

Zoe adopted a stubborn expression. “I was safe.”

“Yes, but we didn’t know that, and we were very worried,” said Bill.

“And not just us,” said Lucy as they turned onto Red Top Road and started climbing the hill. “Molly and Toby and all the neighbors were worried, too. In fact, they were all out in the wet weather, looking for you.”

The news that the girls had been found had spread quickly, and some of the searchers, including Frankie and Willie and all the kids, were standing at the mailboxes at the end of Prudence Path and cheered and waved as they drove by. Zoe, with all the grace of Queen Elizabeth in her glass and gold coach, waved back. Lucy had the uncomfortable feeling that no matter how they scolded or punished Zoe, their cautionary words would be lost among the expressions of joy at her homecoming. Her fears were confirmed when Sara and Molly and Toby all rushed out of the house to meet them in the driveway. The minute Zoe stepped out of the car, she was scooped up in a bear hug by her big brother.

“We saw a selkie!” exclaimed Zoe, triumphantly, as Toby set her down. “It was in the water, and it called to us.”

“Don’t you mean a seal?” said Lucy, determined to keep her daughter firmly in the here and now.

“No, Mommy,” said Zoe, a rebellious little gleam in her eye. “It was definitely a selkie. Deirdre said so, and so did her mother, and they should know, because they come from Ireland, where there are lots of selkies.”

“And what exactly is a selkie?” asked Bill.

“I told you,” said Zoe in a know-it-all tone. “It’s a magical sea creature that helps drowning people get back to shore. But sometimes selkies fall in love with humans, and then they lure them into the sea.”

“Hmm,” said Toby, skeptically. “If you ask me that’s awfully convenient. The selkie gets the credit whether you’re saved or you drown.”

Zoe glared at him. “You don’t understand.”

“I think he understands perfectly,” said Lucy. “Selkies are make-believe. It’s just a story. What you thought was a selkie was a seal.”

“That’s right, Zoe,” said Molly, softly. “You know it was a seal.”

“No!” insisted Zoe, sticking out her chin. “It was a selkie.”

“That’s enough. We’re not going to stand out here arguing,” said Lucy. “Let’s go in the house. And from now on, I don’t want you playing with Deirdre.”

Reaching the porch, Zoe turned around and faced her mother, who was on the bottom step, at eye level. “That’s not fair! I’m going to sleep over with her on Friday night. They’ve moved out of the hotel and into the uncle’s house, and Deirdre has her own room, and she wants me to see it.” She paused, adopting a cunning tone. “And you can’t stop me, because it’s not a school night!”

“School night or not, you’re not sleeping over there,” said Lucy, mounting the stairs.

Zoe turned around and stamped into the house, pulling off her hat and mittens and jacket and throwing them on the kitchen floor.

“Stop that this instant,” said Bill. “Now pick up those things, and hang them up properly.”

“I won’t!” screamed Zoe, stamping her feet and tossing her head. “You can’t make me! You can’t make me do anything! I’m going to a sleepover at Deirdre’s! I am!” Then she burst into tears and ran up the stairs, where they heard her slam the door to her room.

The rest of the family stood in the kitchen, stunned.

“Was that our Zoe?” asked Bill. “She’s never behaved like that before.”

“And she’s not going to ever again,” said Lucy. “Or she’s going to be grounded until she’s old enough to vote.”

When Lucy went to work on Monday, she learned that Ted was planning to run the AMBER Alert as the lead story on page one.

“Can’t you bury it inside?” she pleaded. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“No can do,” he told her. “It’s the big story this week. The chief isn’t about to let it die, either, especially since there’s been no progress at all on Old Dan.”

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” said Phyllis, who was wearing a fur-trimmed black sweater and dark gray pants. The only bits of color were her magenta fingernails and matching reading glasses, and her tangerine hair. “It isn’t like they were really kidnapped. It was all nothing but a silly misunderstanding.”

“That’s not the point, according to the chief,” said Ted. “He says the incident shows the AMBER Alert system works. The girls were located less than ninety minutes after the system was activated.”

“It seemed longer than that,” said Lucy.

“Nope. He’s got the figures, but I can certainly understand how it must have seemed longer to you.” Ted paused. “Any chance I can interview Zoe?”

“Absolutely not,” said Lucy. “Little Miss Naughty has gotten enough of a swelled head as it is from all the attention she’s been getting. Frankie gave her an enormous box of chocolates, Willie Westwood has promised to give her riding lessons, and Preston offered to give her a ride on his ATV.”

The thin lines of pencil that served as eyebrows for Phyllis shot up. “You didn’t let her go, did you?”

“Of course not, but we paid for it,” said Lucy. “Zoe sulked in her room for hours. I swear, the hinges on her door are going to break if she doesn’t stop slamming it shut. It’s been like living with Sarah Bernhardt ever since I said she couldn’t play with Deirdre anymore. She’s turned into a real drama queen.”

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