Murder Is Our Mascot (19 page)

Emily thanked her mom for the information and hung up. The only sound in the minivan was the scraping of their spoons against their plastic ice cream dishes. Emily broke the silence by asking the obvious question. "How does this tie Jim to Helen? Helen didn't have any children. Jim didn't have any children. I would never have guessed Jim had such a sad past. He seemed like such a happy guy. But the principal at Peculiar Bluffs did mention some tragedy in his brother's life."

"But why did he change his last name?" Gabby countered.

"I have no idea. And frankly, I'm too tired to figure it out tonight. Greg will be wondering where you are. Let's call it a night."

Gabby headed the car toward Emily's duplex, but she was hesitant to leave Emily there alone. She was trying to talk her into staying with them for a few days, but Emily wanted the comfort of her own bed. Her life had been in enough upheaval the past week. Emily patted Gabby's arm reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Barnes, if he does know it was me outside, is probably as mortified as I am. I can't see how he fits into this whole mess now, either. He doesn't have any children, and somehow, the fact that Jim changed his name and moved so far from New York after such devastating events in his brother's life has to figure into the equation. I feel like we're back to square one."

"Maybe not," Gabby said in a strangled voice. She had angled the minivan in Emily's drive so that her headlights would shine on the front door. The glare of the lights revealed the picture window in Emily's living room. Emily had closed the blinds and drawn the curtains tight before she had left, but now they were flapping in the breeze. At first, she wondered if she had somehow overlooked an open window. But with all the rain they had been experiencing lately, she didn't think she had had her windows open at all. Gabby flipped her beams up on high and Emily saw what had Gabby so frightened. Her window hadn't been left open—it had been shattered.

Emily's mind swirled as quickly as the leaves blowing through her newly renovated front window. Without stopping to consider any possible danger, she threw the passenger side door of the minivan open and pounded up the front steps. She paused to fumble for her keys and was lifted bodily off her feet. Gabby's wiry arms held her firm as Emily struggled to free herself.

"Oh, no, you don't," Gabby snapped, towing her back to the minivan with an iron grip on her upper arm.

Emily dug her boots in but found no purchase on the leaf-strewn sidewalk. She spit out a hank of hair that had blown into her mouth and spluttered at Gabby. "Leaves are getting inside. I need to call someone to board this up."

Gabby whipped her around. "What you need to do is call the police."

Emily gaped at Gabby. "Why? They don't board up broken windows," she said stupidly.

"How do you think that window got broken?" Gabby countered.

Emily surveyed her darkened front window and billowing curtains. Gabby was right. She assumed a branch had smashed the window, but it had been a calm night. The wind was just now picking up, and there was no tree branch in sight. Realization dawned.

"Someone broke my window!" she yelled at Gabby, backpedaling to the minivan. Gabby hopped into her side, slamming her hand down on the door locks. Emily's whole body shook violently, and after several failed attempts to dial the police, she mutely handed the phone to Gabby. She listened with half an ear as Gabby reported the broken window. She wondered if someone had been inside her home or, even worse, if someone might still be in there. Her teeth chattered and Gabby nudged up the heat. Gabby was still on the phone, but Emily kept her eyes glued to her front door. The longer she thought about it, the more certain she was of the identity of the window-breaker. Barnes heard her outside his house. He clearly had something to hide, and he wanted to frighten Emily away. He had ample time to drive over here, shatter her window, and hightail it back home before she and Gabby got back from getting ice cream.

A siren interrupted her train of thoughts. Gabby and Emily remained in the minivan, rolling down the window to speak to—who else?—Detective Gangly-Arms. He retrieved the keys from Emily and sent a couple of uniformed officers on ahead to search the house.

"You're keeping us awfully busy, Ms. Taylor. You either have some of the worst luck I've ever seen, or you have some mighty ticked-off enemies."

"It would appear so," Emily answered him drily, not wanting to show how truly frightened she was.

"Where were you when this happened?" Gangly-Arms asked her, his sweeping gesture toward her front window making it clear what "this" he was referring to.

Gabby leaned over, practically sprawling across Emily's lap. "We went for some ice cream and a little gossip. That's all, Detective Welks." Emily wasn't sure, but she thought Gabby might have even batted her eyelashes. Gabby oozed a certain sweetness and charm that could bring even the biggest fella to his knees. It would seem Gangly-Arms was not impervious to her feminine wiles. Even in the dim glow of the revolving police lights and the lamplight spilling onto the lawn through her shattered window, Emily noticed Gangly-Arm's blush. She almost felt sorry for this poor wet-behind-the-ears detective. He might have a shiny new badge and a well-honed instinct for investigation, but it would appear he still had a lot to learn about women.

"Of course." He stared into Gabby's large brown eyes, and she gave him a slow, smoldering smile. One of the officers approached and tapped him on the shoulder. Gangly-Arms startled like a kid caught popping his bubblegum in class. When he turned to address the officer, Emily whispered in Gabby's ear, "You should be ashamed of yourself, Gabriella Marie. What would Greg say?"

Gabby laughed softly and straightened up in her seat. "How do you think I handle Greg when he's upset?"

Emily scoffed because she knew better than that. Gabby was just trying to lighten the mood. Greg might think the sun rose and set in Gabby's eyes, but she was also convinced that Greg walked on water. They adored each other, and Emily prayed she would find a love like that of her own one day.

When Gangly-Arms turned back to them, he was all business. "Ms. Taylor, we need you to come inside and ascertain for us if anything is missing. Nothing appears to be disturbed, but we need to be sure."

Emily nodded woodenly, opened the minivan door, and headed back up her walk. Gabby hurried up beside her and grabbed her hand. She was grateful for the moral support, unsure of what she'd find inside. She expected the worst, so she was pleasantly surprised when the only disturbance was the small pile of leaves coloring her beige carpet. She took a quick tour of the rest of her duplex, but she didn't find anything amiss.

Returning to the living room, she was surprised to see that Tad had arrived and was deep in conversation with the detective. She whipped her head to send an accusatory glare Gabby's way, but her friend wouldn't meet her eyes. Leave it to Gabby to call in her form of the cavalry, she thought in defeat.

Gangly-Arms waved her over. After assuring him that nothing was missing, she stared uncomprehendingly at the object he held out to her.

"It's a brick." Was she slow tonight, or what?

But he was patient. "Yes. It would appear someone tossed this through your window. This note was wrapped around it." He held up a large plastic bag containing a typewritten note. It read: "Keep your nose out of things that are none of your business—OR ELSE!"

Emily was back to shivering uncontrollably. Tad and Gabby put an arm around her, one on each side. The detective asked quietly, "Do you have any idea who might have left you this message?"

Emily shook her head no, but of course, she was confident she knew exactly who wanted to scare or warn her away. She couldn't point a finger at Barnes, however, without telling Gangly-Arms where she and Gabby had been tonight. She was certain that neither the detective nor Tad would be amused by their nighttime trespassing expedition.

"I would say it was the same person who ran them off the road." Tad was visibly irritated. "Any leads there?"

"Not so far, Mr. Higginbotham, but I can assure you that this is an ongoing investigation. We'll test the brick and paper for fingerprints, and we'll try to trace this paper, but…" He didn't need to finish his sentence. They all knew it was a long shot. Whoever was behind all of this was smart and careful. The paper was generic white printer paper that could have been purchased anywhere. Emily knew this scare tactic had to be executed in a hurry, and in a rage if Barnes was behind it. And she was sure he was. Could she picture him running her and Gabby off the road and then acting as cool as the fall night to her face at school? Yes. Yes, she thought she could.

A new thought occurred to Emily. "Why do you think Jim changed his last name?" she asked the detective. "This all has to be tied back to him somehow, doesn't it?"

Gangly-Arms considered her question. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," he finally said. "I take it you also have discovered who Jim really was?"

Emily nodded. "My mom remembered hearing the story at the time the kidnapping happened. She just called me a little while ago." She gave an
I'll tell you later
wave at Tad as he was clearly looking at her for an explanation as to what was going on.

Gangly-Arms continued. "I see. Well, we have learned that Jim Olsen was documented as telling the press that he would never rest until he found his nephew."

"But how does that tie him to Helen?" Emily asked. "She doesn't have any children."

"As I said, the investigation is ongoing."

Emily puzzled how Barnes was tied to all of this, too. There had to be a missing link that joined Jim, Helen, and Barnes together. She just hadn't found it. Yet.

She noticed that Gangly-Arms was watching her closely, so she gave him a bland smile. He frowned as he said, "I don't think I need to remind you again, Ms. Taylor, Mrs. Spencer…" He briefly met Gabby's eyes, and she gave him a blinding smile. He blushed again, and Emily felt Tad suppressing a laugh behind her. She pinched Gabby's arm, but the femme fatale only turned her wide eyed, innocent look on her. The poor detective cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he continued, the frown firmly back in place, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you to stay out of this investigation. We have things firmly under control."

"Of course, Detective," Gabby purred, subtly steering him toward the door.

He called back over his shoulder, "I'll be in touch." The door closed behind the last officer, and Emily collapsed on the sofa with a moan and put her head in her hands.

"Now what?" she asked, peeking between the fingers of her left hand. She didn't know how many more surprises she could handle.

"Now, I get home before Greg sends out a search party. Tad, take care of our girl." She made a "call me" gesture behind Tad's back, and then she was gone. Traitor.

"Pack your things," Tad told her and headed out the front door.

When she hadn't moved when he walked back in hefting a toolbox, he barked, "Why aren't you getting your stuff together?"

"More to the point, why would I be? And what are you doing with that?" She flung a hand toward the toolbox. She knew she sounded peevish, but she didn't care. This had been one long night, and she was in no mood to be bossed around by another irritable male.

Tad clenched and unclenched his fists, making a visible effort to calm down. "When Gabby told me what happened, I brought some supplies. I do live above a hardware store, you know. And you can't honestly think I'd let you stay here by yourself tonight?"

Emily thought about arguing on principle, but then she wondered if Barnes, or whoever threw the brick through her window, might make a return visit. Without a word, she pushed to her feet and went to the hall closet to pull out a small suitcase.

Satisfied, Tad went back out to retrieve a board to cover the shattered window. Emily tossed necessities haphazardly into her suitcase. Listening to the pounding of nails in her living room, Emily stared at her reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink. Her face was pale and pinched, and her eyes looked too big for her face. She briefly debated calling her parents, but noting how late it was, she decided that call could wait until tomorrow. No need to worry them unnecessarily. There was nothing they could do anyway. So it looked like she would be staying the night at Tad's. The thought should have set her nerves to buzzing, but she was too exhausted to spare any excess emotion. She dragged her suitcase into the living room as Tad closed up his toolbox. "Ready to go?" he asked curtly. Emily didn't know what he had to be so grumpy about—it wasn't his window that had been broken.

Still, as she locked up, wondering if it was a futile effort, she said, "I'm sorry Gabby dragged you into this. I hope I didn't interrupt your Mathletes' practice."

Rather than answer her, Tad jerked her suitcase out of her hand and tossed it in the backseat. He barely waited until Emily had buckled her seat belt before tearing out of her driveway. Emily saw the set of his jaw in the intermittent illumination of street lamps. She could practically feel the waves of anger and frustration pouring off of him. Too tired to try and figure out Tad's moods tonight, she leaned back against the seat rest and closed her eyes. When Tad pulled to a stop with a jerk, she contemplated just sleeping in the car. She was too tired to move. She remained still, her eyes closed, but the intensity of Tad's stare seared her eyelids. Still not opening them, she said, "What's your problem anyway? I said I'm sorry you were drug into this. You could have just taken me to my parents."

"And given them another scare in the middle of the night? No, thank you. Having to tell them you were in the hospital due to a car accident is one of the worst things I've ever had to do." Emily was instantly contrite. She should have realized what a toll making that call must have taken on Tad. Of course he didn't want to scare her parents again. Neither did she. Emily felt choked by the onslaught of guilt.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night again." She turned toward Tad, wide awake now, but to her surprise, he grabbed her suitcase, slammed out of the car, and stomped up the stairs to his apartment. Emily hurried to catch up. Tad unlocked the door and tossed her suitcase inside. Emily had never seen him this angry.