Tempest in the Tea Leaves (25 page)

“You have a cat?” Holly asked.

“No,” Mitch corrected, “she has a demon.”

“If Morty didn’t stop you, then he wanted you to find the evidence,” I jumped in. “I guess this means the library deal is off.”

“Yes. Pendleton is going away for a long time, just as soon as we take him down.” Lucinda’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

“I’m not going back to jail. I can promise you that,” Pendleton shouted again. “Let me go or your friend here will get hurt.”

“What about the officer he’s holding hostage?” I asked, concern filling me.

“Pendleton’s no murderer,” Lucinda said.

“Maybe not, but even to my untrained eye, he sure seems like a loose cannon,” I pointed out.

“Pendleton’s no match for Officer Harlow,” Mitch said with conviction. “Harlow is waiting for the right moment. He’s been highly trained in hostage situations. Besides, we’ve got his back if he needs us. He knows that.”

“What about Gladys Montgomery?” I asked, focusing on something else so I wouldn’t think about Screw Loose Pendleton sporting a gun.

“She might have gone about things the wrong way, but she didn’t do anything illegal,” Mitch said. “Though I can’t imagine the Historical Society or the Library Board will allow her to remain president.”

“And what about Carolyn Hanes?” I asked.

“She’s the one who called us right after Gladys and Alex approached her,” Holly said. “She might be hard up for money, but she truly did love her friend and was only trying to do right by her. She’ll get the manager position at the library once Pendleton is caught.”

“And what about Amanda Robbins’s murder?” Mitch asked.

“That’s your department, darling. Not ours,” Lucinda purred, and then winked at the detective.

“No, I’ll never agree to that,” Pendleton screeched, backing away from Officer Harlow and pointing his gun at him. “You’ll never take me alive!”

A commotion sounded, and all the law enforcement on the scene drew their weapons in a ready position. I ducked and covered my head, peeking under the car as a scuffle ensued.

Officer Harlow ducked as Pendleton started frantically pulling the trigger, creating a sound like teakettle bubbles popping at a full boil. Bullets pinged off the sides of several police cars, including the one I was hiding behind. I yelped, and Mitch dove on top of me, covering me with every inch of his godlike body.

I felt safe, warm, and protected as I watched the scene unfold before me in awe. Officer Harlow crouched down like a football player, juking left and right until Pendleton hesitated for one brief second. But a second was all Harlow needed as he dove forward and tackled Pendleton flat on his back. He wrenched the gun from Pendleton’s hand and then flipped him over and cuffed him in seconds.

“It’s over, Tink,” Mitch whispered in my ear. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I wheezed. “Just hard to breathe.”

“Sorry.” He rolled off of me and stood. “You can get up now. Pendleton’s been caught.” He reached out a hand to help me up.

“That’s it?” I asked amazed as he pulled me up.

“Told you Harlow was good.”

Lucinda nodded at me and then winked at Mitch. “It’s been a pleasure, Detective,” she said, and wandered off to apprehend her perp from Officer Harlow.

I suddenly realized that might be it for the FBI, but things were far from over for me.

“This puts us right back at square one, doesn’t it?” I said to Mitch. “Pretty much all of our suspects have fallen through.”

“Except you,” Mitch said, studying me in a way I did not like.

“You can’t be for real.”

“Oh, I’m very real. And you’d better get your thinking cap on, Tink. Time’s running out.”

“Thanks, Big Don.” I handed him a check in exchange for my car keys as the phone rang in his office.

“Ma’am.” Not a man of many words, that was all he said as he saluted me.

The answering machine kicked on, and Lulubelle’s voice rang out loud and clear. Don jumped and then flushed. “I, ah, better get that,” he said, and hustled off in that direction at a brisk pace, not waiting for my response. Guess he was finally noticing Belle now, though he still probably hadn’t clued her in.

I climbed in my bug, settling into the creaky seat, loving every lump and bump as much as I loved sugar in my tea. Pulling out of the garage, I turned onto Main Street and headed home, thinking this really was starting to feel like home. All I’d ever had back in the city were my parents and a couple of acquaintances I wouldn’t even call friends.

Divinity had brought me so much more.

I had Jo, who was turning out to be a great friend. Sean, who was also a friend and maybe a little more. Even Detective Stone, who was . . . well, I didn’t really know. And finally, I had my house, my car, and my cat. The thought of losing them all if we didn’t solve this case scared me to death.

I pulled my bug into my driveway and found a man waiting for me. He stood tall in his sports coat and jeans, his black hair thick and wavy, his dark sunglasses firmly in place, and his expression as grim as ever. Detective Stone. My traitorous heart sped up same as it always did when I saw him.

“What’s up?” I asked as I stepped outside, acting as though he didn’t affect me in the slightest.

“We got a call at the station from Bernard Sampson.” Mitch’s face looked graver than normal. “He says his wife never came home last night, and he’s worried sick about her.”

“Oh my gosh, that poor little old lady.” My heart thumped for a totally different reason now. “You don’t think anything awful happened to her, do you?” I fidgeted and paced. “It was freezing last night, and the killer is still on the loose.”

“Let’s not go there, Tink. Calm down and let’s try to find her, all right?”

I took several deep breaths. “Okay.”

We got in his car and cruised the town. We went to the library with no luck. No one had seen her. We went to the shopping district but still no luck. No one in the restaurants or at the church had seen her, either. After an hour of searching, we were headed back to my house when I spotted a movement off the side of the road.

“Wait a minute, back up,” I blurted.

“What?” Mitch slammed on the breaks.

“Back there. I think I saw something.”

He backed up his cruiser. I searched the street by Carolyn’s house and Amanda Robbins’s old house, which still had the yellow tape around it.

“I don’t see anything,” Mitch said, scanning the area.

“I swear I saw something.” I opened my door.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m getting out to investigate. Isn’t that our job? Jeesh.” I stepped out of the car and closed the door.

“Get back in here, you crazy-headed fool,” he snapped through the window he’d rolled down. “It could be dangerous.”

“Yes, and poor Mrs. Sampson could be hurt.” I crouched down and started zigzagging across the yard toward the librarian’s house like I’d seen in the movies.

Detective Stone hopped out and jogged until he caught up with me, tapping me on the shoulder of my humongous puffy coat. “What are you trying to do, scare the bad guy off by line dancing?”

“Ha, ha.” I continued my crazy movements. “Aren’t you supposed to run in a zigzag pattern when chasing someone?”

“No, you only do that if you are the one being chased and the bad guy is shooting at you with a gun.” He ran right along beside me. “Stop doing that, you look like a fool.” He snagged his arm around my waist and pulled me back against him.

“Oh.” I stopped moving, enjoying the warmth of his wide, hard, sculpted chest for a moment, then came to my senses and stepped out of his hold to stand up straight and march up the driveway.

“Now what the hell are you doing?” He snatched my hand and yanked me to a stop. “You don’t want to advertise your approach, either.”

I looked down at our hands and pulled mine from his, crossing my arms in front of me and tapping my boot. “Okay, smarty-pants, what am I supposed to do?”

“Let me go first. You don’t even have a gun.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“That’d be a first.” He grunted. “Stay close.”

I stepped behind him and followed closely. So close that when he stopped short by the corner, I bounced off his back, grabbing his hips so I wouldn’t fall. He craned his neck around and scowled down at me from over his shoulder.

“Not
that
close,” he snapped.

“Sorry.” I winced and backed off a step. Okay, a baby step, but after the standoff with Pendleton, I wasn’t taking any chances. I wanted to solve this case, but I didn’t want to die in the process.

The detective searched the area, made sure it was safe, and then peeked around the corner. He quickly stood up and holstered his gun. “There she is. I think she’s alone, but—”

That was all I needed to hear. I raced around him and ran to the old woman’s side, glancing over my shoulder. He threw up his hands and followed, shaking his head the entire way. She sat at the base of the librarian’s bedroom window, exactly where the footprints had been that night. She had her apron on, as was her habit, I was beginning to see, but at least this time her shoes matched. And thank God she’d worn a heavy coat.

“Mrs. Sampson, this is Detective Stone. Can you hear me?” Mitch asked.

She sat there staring straight ahead, looking dazed.

“Maude, it’s Sunny. I’m so glad we found you.” I touched her cheek.

She turned to look at me. “Sunny? Have we met?” she asked.

Sadness filled every ounce of my body and darkened my soul like tea filling my cup and staining the water black. “Yes, a couple of times. Bernard is looking for you.”

“Oh dear, did I miss our lunch date again?” she asked. “My shift at the library takes up so much of my time.”

“I know, but I’m sure they’ll understand if you want to take a break.” I held her hand. “Bernard is really worried about you. Would you like to go see him?”

“Oh yes. He’s a good man. He works so hard for all of us. Where are my girls?”

“They’re fine,” Mitch said, giving me a funny look. Once he recaptured Maude’s attention, he asked, “Are you ready to go, Mrs. Sampson?”

She gnawed her bottom lip. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, no. We’re just going to have Dr. Wilcox check you out.” Mitch helped her to her feet. “Make sure you’re okay.”

“I told Bernard I was dying, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” She sighed. “He never listens to me.”

I looked her in the eye and squeezed her hands. “Something tells me he’ll listen to you now.”

 

 

Dr. Wilcox came out of the exam room, sending Maude home with her husband, Bernard. Bernard stopped at the exit to the waiting room and turned to the detective and me. He cleared his throat and said, “Thank you for bringing my wife back to me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found her.”

Mitch nodded once in return.

I said, “You’re welcome, Mr. Sampson. Please take care of her. She’s a little fragile.”

Bernard replied, “I know all about my wife, Ms. Meadows. I’ve always looked out for what’s mine.” The lines in his face looked deeper today, like the worry and stress had finally taken its toll.

“That’s my Bernard,” Maude said, patting his arm. “A real trouper.” She looked exhausted. He held her hand tight, and they walked out together.

Dr. Wilcox reentered the waiting room and called Detective Stone and me into his office.

“Well, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Detective Stone asked, leaning a hip against the wall.

I refused a seat as well, too keyed up to sit.

Doc sat on the edge of his desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Mrs. Sampson is worse off than I had originally thought.”

Gee, ya think?
I wanted to shout. I was no doctor, but even I could tell she wasn’t exactly all there. Instead, I smiled politely and inquired, “Really? How so?”

“She’s always complained of being tired, but that’s a natural part of aging. Forgetting some minor things is also an inevitable part of growing old, but I think Mrs. Sampson’s forgetfulness has gone beyond the norm.”

“What do you mean?” Mitch asked.

“Well, she’s not just forgetting simple things. Part of her short-term memory is going as well. At times she seems to think she still works at the library. And she often forgets she’s met someone a day later.”

“I can attest to that,” I said. “I’ve met her several times, yet she never remembers. And she always forgets to take her apron off, sometimes even mismatches her shoes.”

“I’m afraid it’s the early stages of Alzheimer’s,” Doc Wilcox admitted. “Bernard isn’t going to be able to take care of her on his own for much longer. It’s a shame. Last I heard they were planning to retire in Florida. That’s not likely to happen now. His daughters live a couple of hours from here nowhere near Florida. Without their help, I don’t see how Bernard can swing it.”