Broke: (21 page)

After waiting for over an hour for a trick-or-treater, Immy
gave up and
started wandering
through
her house, at loose ends.
She'd eaten most of the trick-or-treat candy and her stomach didn't feel too good.
Strange creaking noises came from the corners. She checked the lock on the front door
again
, then poured
a glass of tea in the kitchen.
The chocolate had made her thirsty.
M
arshmallow trotted after her
. He seemed
lost without Drew.

Then it occurred to her that Halloween might be the ideal time to communicate with the ghost of Mrs. Tompkins.
Didn't spirits rise from their graves on this night?
Immy turned off all but a dim lamp and sat on the settee in the Great Hall
. She tucked her feet up
and closed her eyes, trying to sense the spirit, willing it to reveal itself to her.
She even tried chanting "Mrs. Tompkins, Mrs. Tompkins," softly.

When she opened her eyes, Marshmallow was lying at the foot of the stairs
, staring toward the second floor
. Was he wanting to go up to bed? Or was the ghost upstairs? Immy
peered
through the
obscure
gloom of the dimly lit room and thought she
saw
a bit of vapor on the staircase. As she
squinted
, it rose and dissipated.

She decided the ghost was telling her that it wanted to be smudged now. Immy gathered the pot, the sage, and some matches, and
climbed
to the first room on the third floor, where she'd tried the smudging before, the room where the canister had been.

On her way up, s
he shut the door to the second staircase
behind her
to keep Marshmallow from going to the third floor, since he couldn't get down
the steps
and she wouldn't be able to lift him without Ralph to help.

She reached the room where so much had happened. The door creaked when she opened it.
Should she leave
it
open
,
or
should she
close it? It felt claustrophobic with it shut, since the room was so crowded. Furniture and boxes still lay strewn and tipped from her last foray, when the pile of table, chair, and chest had fallen onto her.
Some cloth had fallen out of the chest, which had sprung open. She picked up a fringed shawl and two aprons, then set them back beside the chest on the floor. They were awfully old-fashioned and smelled mildewy. The room closed in on her further.
Her chest tightened. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath.

The door would remain open. And the light would remain on. There would be no more attacks in the darkness in this room.
The light bulb wasn't very high wattage, but it would have to do.

She could hear Marshmallow making mild objections
through
the
closed
door at the bottom of the stairway.
Maybe
this wouldn't take
too
long.
Marshmallow sounded distressed.

Immy set the pot on the
wooden
floor
with a clang
,
held the
sage
above
it, and lit a match.
She touched the flame to the end of the bundle and pungent sm
oke rose in a lazy spiral. She peered in the corners of
the room for a wisp that would tell her Mrs. Tompkins was here and was being exorcised, released from her bondage to the house.

She held the sage up. The ends were burning and the flame threw dancing light onto the creepy shapes.
A hat rack that held a cowboy hat at a jaunty angle looked very much like a lanky person.
The unsteady light from the flame snagged on a silvery strand of cobweb, trailing from the brim of the hat to the floor.
A tallboy dresser loomed behind
the hat rack
, resembling a blocky
football player.

Was that a bit of vapor in the near corner? She stepped toward it. And tripped on the shawl she'd left on the floor. Immy sprawled onto her stomach
. The
sage flew from her hand and landed on the seat of the couch that had held the tower of furniture.

She scrambled up and grabbed the
end of the
bundle. It was burning now, not smoking, and the flame approached her hand. Smoke r
ose
from the couch cushion. Was she going to burn the house down?

Frantic
, she kicked the cloths aside, trying to locate
the pot that, she now knew, she should ha
ve
put the sage in
, right away
. She found
the pot
,
threw
the
smoldering
sage in. Then grabbed the aprons and smothered the small fire burning on the couch.

At least she'd left the door open. The smoke was rather thick, but wasn't suffocating. She dashed
to the bathroom
downstairs and brought up a bucket of water to pour onto the couch, in case
a secret fire
still smolder
ed
deep in the cushion.

Then she left the room, shut
it up tight
, and vowed never to enter that room again
, day or night, light on o
r
light off
.

After she'd recovered with a can of beer, she heard noises on the porch. When Marshmallow squealed and ran to the front door, she realized it was Drew
,
returning from her night out.

Immy unlocked and opened the door and the pig ran out. He knocked Drew over. She fell against the fragile railing, and down it went
, clattering over the edge
. Luckily, she
caught her balance and
didn't fall into the pile of
splintered wood
beneath
the porch
.

Immy and Hortense knelt and ministered to Drew, who was laughing about the mishap. The sound of smacking made Immy look up. Marshmallow
stood chomping on
four candy bars, wrappers and all.

Drew jumped up and rescued the rest of her haul. She acted a little miffed at her pet pig for the rest of the evening.
He didn't get any dinner off her plate, even though he sat patiently and begged as best he could with his tiny piggy eyes.
But they bathed together and bedded down next to each other as usual
, Drew in the bed and Marshmallow on the rug beside her
.

After Drew was in bed, Hortense stayed for a cup of hot tea and remarked, several times, on an odor of conflagration. Immy didn't want to admit to setting the fire, so
she
pretended she couldn't smell it.

When
Hortense left, Immy sorted through
her daughter's
candy bag and retrieved all the
gummy candy
--
worms and bears mostly. Someday Drew would find out they tasted good, but Immy had been able to convince her, so far, that they were icky. Immy adored gummies.

As Immy brushed her teeth, she remembered that November first was Dewey's court date. She wasn't sure exactly what that meant. Sarah Joyce hadn't called it a trial,
but that's what it must be.
It seemed much too soon. Immy hadn't conferred with Sarah Joyce on the defense strategy, so didn't know if it was likely to work or not.
She wished she could go, so she'd know what was happening with her uncle.

But Immy knew she'd better put in a full day's work on
Monday. Mike Mallett had been squinting
, pointedly, at the stacks of filing that
had been
building up on her desk
all last week
.
It was easy for his narrow, weasel face to look pointed.

The reason there were so many files to put away was that Mike had closed a lot of cases in the last week.

She wished she could say the same for herself.

Chapter Twenty-
t
hree

Immy called Sarah Joyce
, Dewey's lawyer,
at noon to see what was going on.

"Got a continuance
until next month," the lawyer said.

"Oh." What the hell was a continuance? She didn't want to sound ignorant, but needed to know. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Absence of witness. Pretty sure we can find Abraham Grant, but haven't located him yet."

"How do you know about Grant?" Immy hadn't
yet
told her about finding out Grunt's name. But the lawyer must have databases and stuff. They always did on TV.

"Your uncle wants him as a witness. He was the other party in the house at the time of the murder."
Her voice jiggled and Immy pictured her scurrying down a hallway
with her short legs.

"I thought Dewey didn't know his name.
He told me he was called Grunt.
"

"We found it.
Tracked him down.
"

"So what happens now? Does he get out of jail?"

"
I have a hearing this afternoon on that. Should be able to get him out on bond. You know who can stand bail?"

"I don't know if I can stand it if he gets out. Where will he stay?"

"Immy, do you know who can stand bail?"

Immy had to admit, she was puzzled. She could tolerate the idea of bail, but who couldn't? When she didn't answer, Ms. Joyce's voice over the phone sounded a bit more shrill.

"Who can pay for his release?"

"Oh." Was this some legal lingo she didn't know about? Why hadn't it been in her coursework, or her
Compleat
book? She'd have to look in the index and see if she'd missed it.

Immy heard Mike walking toward the door between them.
A
s she was about t
o
tell Sarah Joyce she had to hang up
now
, his cell phone rang and she heard him return to his desk.

"How about his son?"
Ms. Joyce asked.

"Is Theo in town?"

"Haven't heard from him. Left a message."

"I'll call him," Immy said. "He might be able to pay it."

She hated thinking of her uncle in the cold, hard jail cell.
But did she want him in her house? If not, where would he stay?
She was no longer positive that he wasn't a murderer. Immy didn't know if she should
even
work on his case or not.

But she did know she had a mountain of filing to plow through.

She dialed Theo's cell phone number.

"Immy!" He sounded pleased to hear from her. "What's up?"

"Did you know your dad
was
in court today?"

"In court today? No. Why didn't the lawyer call
?" He paused. "
I think I know what happened. I'll bet she did call."

"Yes, she said she did, but you
never called
back."

"I gave her the number at the house and Aunt Nelda was here over the weekend. I'll bet she
heard the call and erased it,
didn't give me the message.
She barged her way in, said she had a gas leak at home.
I'll call the lawyer."

"She wants someone to, um, stand bail."

"Put up the money, you mean?"

At least she wasn't the only one foggy on that phrase. "Yes. But I don't know where he'll stay if he's out."

"He can't stay with you?"

"I'm not sure about that, Theo. He has some friends that I don't think
I want
around my daughter."

"I'm not telling Aunt Nelda about this.
"
His voice jerked and she pictured him chopping
the air for emphasis. "
I'll get the money arranged and I'll be up in Wymee Falls by this evening. Can you take him until then?"

"Sure. See you tonight."

She tried to put Dewey out of her mind and concentrate on the alphabet
to finish up the filing
.

Hortense called that afternoon and said Drew wanted to stay the night in Saltlick.

"Without Marshmallow?" asked Immy.

"She mentioned something about the smoke hurting her throat last night."

Immy thought Drew had picked up on what her Geemaw was saying about the smell of smoke.
Immy
could hardly
detect
it at all in the morning.

"Are you certain," Hortense said, "that something did not combust on your property?"

Immy sighed. She couldn't put anything past her mother. "Something did combust, but it wasn't much. I caught a couch on fire
and
I put it out right away."

"
Nancy Drew's
lungs are young and delicate. Perhaps it would be advantageous for her to sleep here
, at least for tonigh
t."

There was no arguing with Hortense once she made her mind up. Immy gave in.
Besides, it might be better to have Drew out of the picture while Dewey was at her house.

F
ifteen minutes before Immy was supposed to leave work
,
Sarah Joyce called. Immy said she'd be at the courthouse in twenty and split the difference to take off ten minutes early.
Mike's door was still closed and she could hear him talking on his phone.
The coast was clear.

Theo had gotten the bail arranged, had stood for it, Immy reminded herself, but she needed to pick up her uncle.

She drove him to
ward
her house, where Theo was going to
meet them
. Immy couldn't think of anything to say at first.
Did you have a nice time?
wasn't a good conversation starter for leaving jail.
Do you have plans for tomorrow?
probably wouldn't work any better.

"Did you know about the bull semen?" Okay, that probably wasn't much better,
either,
but it was all she could think of. And it was something she really wanted to know.

Dewey didn't flinch or turn his head, but Immy sensed a tension in his body. After a few seconds, he let out a breath and closed his eyes.

"Yes, yes I knew. But I didn't kill Lyle."

Immy's grip on her steering wheel tightened. "Do you know that my life has been in danger because of that horrible semen?"

Now Dewey looked at her. "What's happened?"

She told him about being attacked and about the items in the third-story room being disturbed.
"Would you please let everyone know that it's not there any more? I want everyone to know that. Whoever they are."

"There's Grunt, and at least one more person involved. I told them to leave me out of it. Immy, I really want to go straight this time."

"Who killed Lyle?"

"I was drunk, like I said, but probably Grunt.
" Dewey stared out the passenger window as Immy turned onto her street. "
Before I passed out, Grunt was on a rampage because the juice was missing. He thought Lyle
took and hid it somewhere He
was comin' down hard on him to make him tell where it was."

Hortense
showed up with
Drew
to fetch her night clothes right after Immy reached the house with Dewey. While she was in the house, Hortense gave
Dewey
the bare minimum attention that
good
manner
s
dictated.

Darkness had fallen by the time Theo got to Immy's Wymee Falls house.
Immy was glad to see
Theo
. Dewey had sat on the settee since entering her house. She hadn't felt like talking to him any more. She didn't know if she could believe he was trying to go straight.

When
Theo showed up
,
Dewey jumped up and grinned at him. "Hi, son. Sure am glad to see you."

Dewey gave Theo a hug, but Theo returned a light, one-handed pat on the
shoulder
. "Let's go. I'm hungry."

Immy offered them supper, but was
relieved when they
turned her down and
left to get a motel room.

Before she closed the front door, a car drew up behind Theo's. A small blond woman jumped out and ran at the two men.

"What do you think you're doing?" she screamed at Theo. It was his Aunt Nelda.

"Did you follow me here?" he asked, backing away from the harridan.

Dewey opened the passenger door of Theo's pickup and got in.

Immy
knew she shouldn't
eavesdrop, but she couldn't just
go away
and quit listening.

"What am I supposed to do? I promised my sister on her deathbed--"

"You're supposed to butt out, Aunt Nelda. He's my father. You withheld my message that he needed bail money."

"What kind of a father needs bail money?" She shook a finger at Theo, like it was his fault his father needed bail money.

Theo shook his head and walked away from her
, his arms dangling quiet at his side for once
. "Leave us alone, Aunt Nelda." He got in, slammed the door, and drove away.

Aunt Nelda jutted her lower jaw out until they were out of sight, then she burst into tears.

Immy quietly closed her front door
on the sobbing woman
, feeling like she might be a bad person for doing that. She peeked out the window until the woman drove away. Shaking her head, Immy vowed never to have anything to do with deathbed confessions. They really screwed things up.

***

It was strange to get up th
e next morning without Drew in her bedroom
. Marshmallow seemed to miss her too. He trudged out to the backyard to do his business
, then came back in for breakfast
.
He hung his head and his ears seemed limp.
H
e trudged, instead of h
is usual gait
,
a spirited, happy trot. Did pigs get depressed? Immy wondered.

"She'll be back tonight, after I
pick her up from school
," Immy said in a soothing voice
.
Marshmallow
nosed his breakfast,
then ate slowly,
leaving some in his bowl
.
This wasn't like him at all.
"It'll be okay. You'll see."
She gave the wiry hairs on the top of his head a
few
pat
s
. He curled up in the corner
of the kitchen where he'd last played with the canister
.

Ralph had gone to Saltlick early and left a sweet note on the kitchen counter.

Neither Theo nor Dewey got in touch before she left the house. She hoped they'd been able to have a father
-
son talk and thaw their relationship a bit from what it'd been last night.

She didn't hear from them all day. Well, Theo was taking care of Dewey.
He was Dewey's son.
She wouldn't worry about h
er uncle
as long as they were together.

Hortense called to say she would take Drew out to IHOP for supper and they'd be over later.

As she left work, she thought it might be a good time to try to tail Vance to his house. She steered her
Hyundai
to the real estate office. Vance's Beemer was parked outside. Good, she hadn't missed him.

She hadn't read anything about how to tail suspects
--
not that Vance was a suspect
--
but she'd seen it done in movies. It didn't look that hard. She parked a block away, in a place where she could see his car.

It didn't take him long to leave work, about a half hour. Immy started her engine when
s
he
saw him
leaving the office.
H
e stood on the sidewalk and talked on his cell phone for another ten minutes. Finally, he got into his car and pulled
out
.

Immy knew she should keep one or two cars between them, but
at the outset
there were four. Still, traffic
moved awfully slow
in downtown Wymee Falls, so she wasn't likely to lose him.

Vance made two right turns. Those were easy to follow. But then he made a left into an alley in the middle of a block. There was no
traffic light
and Immy had to wait for a long line of cars to pass before she could
pull into the alley.