Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines (20 page)

“Slop,” he said. “I can’t tell people my girlfriend feeds me slop. At least not here in pig country.”

“Then, don’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.” She put the ladle in his hand. “You scoop the slop and
warm it up. I’ll put garlic cheese bread under the broiler. Then it’s Italian slop.”

“We’re being fancy now, are we?”

“Yes we are!”

While they were eating, Polly’s phone rang.

“That’s Lydia’s ring-tone,” she said. “I should get this.”

“Go ahead. It’s always entertaining.”

“Hi Lydia,” Polly said, answering her phone.

“We’re going to be there in just a little bit. Do you want me to bring you some lunch?”

“No. That’s sweet, but I’m eating right now. Come on over and I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Bye, bye, dear. And tell Henry he doesn’t have to stay. I have plenty of people coming in this afternoon.”

“Uh. Okay. Bye.”

Polly put the phone down after making sure she’d hung up and said, “I don’t know how she does that.”

“What do you mean?” Henry asked.

“She
said that you don’t have to stay. She has plenty of people.”

He started to laugh. “She’s scary. My truck is in your
garage, so how did she know? You have to ask.”

“I will.”
             

“I’m going to get out of here
, then. You really don’t care?”

“What?” Polly looked up from her plate. She’d been thinking about Lydia. “Not at all! You’ll pick me up later?”

He stood up and bent over to kiss her. “I’ll be here before five. Don’t walk me out. I can find my way. Finish your lunch.”

“I love you,” she called as he crossed the threshold into her bedroom. She looked down at her plate. She was finished anyway.

“Come on, Obiwan. A quick walk and then I’m going to be gone for a bit.” Polly looked at the plates on the table and knew that the animals would probably try to get to the food, so she quickly scraped them clean and put them in the sink.

“Now we can go,” she said, touching his head as she walked past him. He followed her and they went outside. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still soggy. Obiwan hit the grass and stopped, then stepped forward again, picking up his paws.

“You’ve been in worse,” she scolded. “Now go.” She stepped forward onto the grass and with a lunge, he headed for the trees. Polly let him wander and then called him back. When he got close to her, he shook to dry himself off, spattering water all over her.

“You brat!” she laughed. “You couldn’t have done that further away from me?” This time she followed him as he proudly walked inside and then up the stairs to her apartment. Before he got very far, she stopped him by grabbing his collar.

“Oh no you don’t.” She dug into the basket of towels and pulling out an old one, knelt beside him. “Give me the paw.” She tapped his right paw. He licked her face and lifted it so she could dry it. She dried him down and when she released him, he bolted into the living room and jumped on the sofa, rubbing his body along the length of it, back and forth. “I love you, you silly dog.”

Polly went down the front steps and was surprised to see a large group of people
at work, setting up plywood and braces.

“Hi there!” Lydia came over to greet her. “This is going to be great! We’re going to have the kiddos walk in the front door and around this, then they’ll come back around by the offices and out the other side of the front door.”

Aaron and Billy Endicott were holding up a piece of plywood while Len Specek and Doug Randall nailed braces into place. Andy was following along behind them, straightening the material they had set down on the floor before erecting the walls. Rachel Devins and her mother, Martha, were carrying in large chunks of white styrofoam and Beryl was trailing along with bags hanging off both of her arms.

“What are you carrying?” Polly asked.

“Shh. Don’t tell the fuzz. I’m packing Krylon,” Beryl said in a stage whisper. “I don’t want him to catch me bombing the place.”

“Bombing?” Polly asked, puzzled. “That seems over the top.”

“Don ‘cha know nuttin’ girlie? I been practicin’ my graffiti slang.” Beryl sneered, her upper lip curled in a fake snarl. “Bombing is me bein’ an artist and paintin’ the wall.”

“Umm, you da bomb,” Polly replied, her eyes wide. “What can I do to help?” she asked Lydia.

“We’re painting styrofoam to look like rocks. They’ll sit on top of the braces, so no one trips. Do you want to do some carving?”

“
Whatever you need,” Polly said. “Just tell me how.”

Rachel stopped in front of them. “I can show you. We did this when I was in high school for props. It’s easy.”

Before she knew it, Polly was carving styrofoam into rocks, both big and small. When she finished with one, Beryl took it outside and spray painted it until she was satisfied. Once the temporary walls were erected, Lydia and Andy brought in the rocks that had dried and set them into place.

“We’re
painting these old sheer curtains from the thrift store with fluorescent paint. Once the strobe lights and black lights are turned on, this will be insane,” Doug explained. “We’ll drape them all over these walls and then we’re going to make ghosts that go up and down. Their eyes are going to glow.”

Andy looked at Lydia, “We are remembering that this is for little kids, right?”

“Yes we are,” Lydia said. “It won’t hurt anyone to have a little bit of a friendly fright on Halloween. And if they get too scared, we just turn them back around and take them to the front door. My goodness, it’s not like they don’t see worse stuff on television.”

“Don’t get her started,” Aaron said. “This woman loves Halloween.”

“Kids will want to go through over and over again,” Billy spoke up. “I would have. This is going to be awesome.”

“I’m just glad the Sheriff is going to be here,” Polly muttered. “At least no one can accuse me of torturing their children.” She looked at the time.

“I have to go!” she said, jumping up.

“Where are you going?” Lydia asked.

“We’re meeting the Mikkels’ for dinner and then going over to Jewell for a drama performance.”

“That’s nice, dear. It should be fun.”

Polly started to walk to the steps. “Lydia?”

“Yes dear.”

“How did you know Henry was here and that he didn’t want to help today? That was spooky.”

Lydia just grinned at her. “Oh, Polly. That was easy. Even if he wasn’t here, I knew that he would have offered to help if he’d wanted to. When he didn’t, I knew he wanted the day off from construction. I was just giving you trouble. I figured you would talk to him at some point, so I set you up. It kind of entertains me to be spooky sometimes. I have to keep the mystique going.”

Polly crossed back to her friend and hugged her. “You are an amazing woman and I love you, but you have to stop making me think you’re prescient. It makes me nervous.”

“You ought to be part of her family. I think our kids were always looking over their shoulders. She knew a lot more than she was supposed to know,” Aaron said.

“I still do, cuddlebum,” she laughed, taking his arm. “And don’t you forget it!”

“Not a chance.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Polly said as she put her foot on the first step. “This is going to be really awesome.”

“I’m having a blast,” Lydia replied. “Best fun ever!”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Soon, it was time for the last reading of the evening. It had been fun to see parents watch their kids perform. Some parents tensed up, obviously worried about mistakes and when the performance was finished, they visibly relaxed. Others were on the edge of their seat, sometimes mouthing the words along with their kids. Those parents had heard the lines spoken many times as their students worked to memorize their parts. There was a lot of applause and excitement as the evening drew to a close.

Kevin Campbell stood and walked to the microphone and dropped his head. When he raised it, with a low voice that resonated through the room, he began reciting familiar words:

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore - “

Polly shut her eyes and listened. Henry took her hand, which made her flinch and look up, but then she shut her eyes again so she could savor the experience. The first time he whispered the very familiar words,
“Quoth the Raven ‘Nevermore’”
a chill ran across her arms as she anticipated the rest of the story. As the narrator’s tale grew more agitated, Kevin Campbell’s voice followed suit and when he shrieked his command to the raven to leave, her head shot up and she watched him finish the story.

The room erupted in applause at the final ‘nevermore’ and his students jumped up to surround him, chattering and congratulating each other on performances well done.

Joss took Polly’s other hand, “I may not sleep tonight,” she laughed, a bit faintly.

Polly had been holding her breath and with a slight gasp, said, “That was something. No wonder his kids do so well. He really seems to understand how to relate the written word to listeners.”

“We should go up to him. I’m sure he’ll remember you.”

“Let some of the crowd clear out,” Polly said. “I still haven’t figured out
what to say. Can you tell if his mother is here?”

“I don’t know,” Joss glanced around the room. “It could be anyone. Do you think it would be best to be upfront
about this?”

“Sure, but what does that mean? ‘Hi Kevin, remember
me? Well, I knew your father.’ Or,” Polly snorted a little, “Kevin,” she said in a low voice, “I knew your father.”

Henry started chuckling beside her and said, “Stop it.
That’s a terrible Darth Vader.”

“You recognized it,” she laughed.

Nate leaned back, stretched his legs out in front of him and put his arm on the back of Joss’ seat. Then he leaned over to talk to Henry behind Joss & Polly’s backs. “They’re going to be here for a while. Do you want to go outside? I’m tired of sitting.”

Henry looked at Polly, the question in his eyes.

“Sure.” she said. “We’ll be fine here.”

He took her hand and said quietly, “Are you certain you want to do this tonight? Maybe it’s enough that you came over. Aaron would kill you if you messed up a murder investigation.”

Polly sat back in her chair and looked back and forth from him to Joss. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She swatted his leg. “Why did you wait until now to ask me that? I don’t know what to do.”

“You’d better think quick,” Joss said, “He’s spotted us and is making his way over here. What are you going to say?”

“I dunno, I dunno, I dunno,” Polly breathed. “What do I do?”

But before there was any response, Kevin Campbell was there.

“Hello there!” he said. Polly felt like his voice was ringing through the room. Her mind was desperately trying to get back on track. Henry and Nate both stood and he shook their hands. Joss stood beside Polly and reached out to hug him.

“You are the last people I expected to see here tonight. You made me a little nervous when I saw you in the audience.” He smiled at them and Polly peered at his face to see if he was the same man in the last photograph she’d seen. The picture was scanned into the note program on her telephone, but she couldn’t very well hold it up beside his face to see if they matched.

She felt Henry’s hand on her elbow and stood up, “That was wonderful,” she said. “You gave me chills. How long have you been performing that?”

“
About fifteen years. When I started teaching high school, I wanted my students to understand what I was talking about when I helped them explore diction and stage presence and telling a story rather than just reading it.”

“But why Poe?” she asked.

He laughed. “Kids love the macabre. You’d be surprised at how many of them relate to the darkness of Poe’s works. Even the kids whose lives are normal and happy are drawn into his words. Some of them are fascinated by it, others identify with it.”

“Have you always liked his work?”

Kevin shrugged. “Believe it or not, my mother started reading Poe to me when I was young. We didn’t have very many books in the house, but she had a tattered copy of Poe and another of Shakespeare. Those men taught me how to read.”

“Is your mother here tonight?” Polly asked.

Kevin pointed to an older woman seated in the front row. There were two girls standing in front of her. They were too young to have been involved in the performances, but were chatting animatedly with several of the high school kids.

“That’s my mother and my daughters.
My wife is around here, too. She’s probably talking to some of the parents. She’s much better with them than I am.” He looked around again and pointed to a group of people on the other side of the room. “That’s Sonya. The one who can’t talk without waving her arms.”

Polly knew she couldn’t confront him until she’d talked to Aaron Merritt. The Campbells weren’t going anywhere, but she would hate it if Kevin’s mother took off because she thought she’d been caught after all these years.

“Why did you all come over tonight?” Kevin asked.

“Joss told me about your recitation of
The Raven
and I couldn’t miss it. That was pretty impressive.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you stopped by. We should have dinner some evening so you can meet my wife and daughters. I’ll have Sonya give you a call.”

He glanced past them and said, “Excuse me. I do need to speak with someone before they leave. It was nice to see you again and thanks for coming.” With that, he walked away.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Nate said, matter-of-factly. “It looks as if you don’t have to worry about how to tell him. He’s not sticking around.”

“Just a second,” Polly tried to nonchalantly look at the woman Kevin identified as his mother, but couldn’t see her face. Her shoulders were hunched and she sat with her hands folded in her lap. Her long grey hair was tied behind her head in a loose pony tail, with tendrils curling around her face.

“It looks as if she spent a lifetime
bent over, doesn’t it,” Polly whispered to Joss.

“Come with me,” Joss took Polly’s arm. She turned back to her husband. “Go on outside. We’ll meet you at the car.”

Joss led Polly down to the front and across to the group standing around the seated woman. “Mrs. Campbell?” she said.

Polly recognized the woman immediately. This was Thomas’s Nelly. She looked up at them and smiled.

“Mrs. Campbell. I’m Joss Mikkels and this is Polly Giller. We worked with Kevin this summer on the Literary Competition. I just wanted to tell you how much we enjoyed his performance tonight. You have to be so proud of him.”

“I am very proud,” the woman said. ” You worked with him on the Literary Competition?”

“Yes,” Polly said. “In Bellingwood. His student did very well.”

Mrs. Campbell’s shoulders went rigid and Polly watched as she gripped her hands in her lap, her fingers turning white.

“I remember that,” she said. “It was nice of you to say something. If you will excuse me. Ellie?” she stood and took one of the young girls’ arms. “Would you take me to the car, please?”

“Sure, Grandma. Come on, Ann. We’re going to the car to wait for mom and dad.” The other young girl took Mrs. Campbell’s other arm and they practically danced up the aisle with the woman. Mrs. Campbell glanced around once at Polly and Joss and then let the girls escort her out into the foyer.

“She knows,” Polly said. “We just spooked her.”

“I saw that. So it’s her?”

“Absolutely. Kevin has changed since his graduation picture, but she hasn’t.” They started walking toward the back of the room. “I feel terrible,” Polly said. “I wish I could tell her how much Thomas loved her and that everything is going to be okay.”

They went outside and Polly gave a little wave to Mrs. Campbell and her granddaughters as they sat in the car waiting. Henry and Nate were waiting beside Nate’s Impala.

“Is it her?” Henry asked.

“It is. I think we scared her. When I mentioned Bellingwood, the poor woman got nervous.”

Nate pursed his lips together, then said. “Well, I suppose that everyone has heard about the famous author being killed at Sycamore House. I wonder if she knew he was this close to her.”

“I don’t know,” Polly glanced back at the car. “I’ve really messed this up. Aaron is going to have my head if she runs now.”

“From the looks of her, she isn’t running very far very fast,” Nate said, then let out an “Oomph” as his wife poked him in the side. “Well, she’s not!”

Henry stepped in and took Polly’s hand, “If Aaron is going to kill you, do you
think you might as well wade into it all the way?”

She looked into his face and gave him a little smile. “Really?”

He lifted one shoulder and winked, “You’ve been in trouble with him before. You’re sure that she isn’t going to have to face jail time for killing that cop in San Francisco?”

“She didn’t do it. The police reports and Thomas’s notes all say that she was there before it happened, but had nothing to do with killing him. Maybe she’ll need a lawyer, but if she hasn’t run for twenty years, don’t you
think she wants to just be finished?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what she wants, but if you want to talk to them and tell them what you’ve found, now is as good a time as any.”

“Come with me?” she asked him.

“I’ve been in this since the beginning, I want to see it to the end. I’m coming. Do you two mind waiting?” he asked Nate and Joss.

“Oh, I’ll just sneak her into my big back seat and see what …”

There was another oomph and Joss said, “We’ll be fine. Go ahead.”

Polly saw Kevin and Sonya Campbell coming out of the school and she picked up the pace, running to catch up to him.

“Kevin, can I speak with you a moment?” Polly called out. She could tell that he considered ignoring her, but his wife stopped and
waited as they crossed the parking lot.

“Okay,” he said. “Sonya, go ahead. I’ll be right there.” His wife looked back and forth between him and Polly, then walked away.

“What can I do for you, Miss Giller?” he asked.

“I have a
very personal question to ask you and before you say anything, you should know that I already have the answer. I’m just looking for confirmation.”

He took a deep breath, looked down at the ground and then back up at her. “Yes. I’m Thomas Zeller’s son. We’ve been hiding for nearly forty-five years for something my mother didn’t do. I can’t believe it’s over now.”

Polly’s heart was in her throat and she reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “It’s not as bad as all that. Thomas was staying at Sycamore House, finishing his last novel. But Kevin, he’s been looking for you and your mother your entire life. He has proof that she didn’t kill that policeman. In fact, the San Francisco police know she didn’t do it. There’s no need to run any longer.”

She heard a car door open and then shut and looked across as Mrs. Campbell walked slowly across to them. “Kevin? What’s this about?” she asked.

“Mother, this is Polly Giller. She knows who we are. Thomas Zeller was staying at her place. She says he was looking for us.”

“Of course he
was, dear. But, that’s all behind us now.” She looked at Polly, her eyes clear and full of fire. “I did not kill anyone, no matter what they may say. I suppose it is time to face this, but I had hoped to wait until the girls were a little older.”