Pall in the Family (18 page)

“Oh well, now that you put it
that
way . . .” I jerked my arm out of his grasp and brushed past him out the door. I didn't have to fake being mad this time.

I stormed up the street until I remembered I'd parked in the other direction. Faking a fight wasn't necessary to keep my distance—I could just have a conversation with Mac about the case and it would happen by itself. I kept walking rather than go past the café again and run into him. Who did he think he was, telling me to stay out of it? Tish was my friend. My feet seemed to be taking me around the block, which was a good idea. I came up to my car from the other side. By the time I got there, I knew what I needed to do.

* * *

I pulled into
our driveway and was pleased to see both Alex's blue Honda and Diana's green VW bug. I hoped everyone would be on board with my plan.

I found them all in the dining room. They had the pendulum out again, but it didn't seem to be going well. Alex was gripping the chain, his knuckles white. Vi hovered, obviously fighting her urge to just grab it from him. Mom and Diana watched for any signs of movement. Dad read the newspaper at the far end of the table.

“Oh, there you are!” said Vi. I had only seen her briefly on the way to the funeral, but something was different about her. She seemed older to me today—her hair was in a tangled braid, the lines near her mouth were more prominent.

The rest of the group turned to the door, and Alex set the pendulum down with a look of relief. My mother's eyes were puffy and her nose red from crying. Diana's skin was blotchy, and she had mascara smeared under her eyes. Even Dad looked haggard, and I could tell he wasn't reading the paper as much as staring at it.

“Hi. Where's Seth?”

Diana pointed down; my mother glanced heavenward for strength.

“I'm under here.” Seth's voice floated out from under the tablecloth.

I bent to look and was met by three sets of eyes.

“Aren't you a little big to be playing ‘fort'?” I asked.

“I'm not playing. Tuffy's all worked up about something, and he doesn't want to come out.”

I glanced at Vi, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. I sat next to Diana, across from Alex.

The doorbell rang.

My mother rushed out.

“That's probably Tom Andrews,” I said. “I called him on my way home.”

“Oooh,” Seth said with a schoolyard singsong, “it's your boyfriend.”

I tried to kick him under the table but missed and caught Alex instead.

“Why is he here?” Vi asked, ignoring the antics.

“I think we need to be more proactive about this,” I said.

“Proactive about what?” asked Alex. He was rubbing his leg and glaring at me.

“This situation. Two people have been killed, and we don't know why. I think Milo Jones has something to do with it.”

“I'm in. That guy bugs the cra—”

I shot a look at Alex.

“—ackers out of me,” said Alex.

“Crackers? Really?” Seth's voice asked from below.

“I knew it!” said Vi, oblivious to the giggling of Seth and Alex.

My mother and Tom came into the room, and everyone took a seat except Seth, who stayed under the table.

I looked at my motley crew and drew in a big breath. All eyes were on me, and I hesitated at the absurdity of my plan. I almost called it off, but I owed Tish my best effort. I had to find out who had killed her. Since the police were watching Gary, we needed to watch Milo.

“Okay, why do you think Milo is involved?” Diana asked.

“I saw him arguing with Tish just before she was killed.” I held up fingers counting off my suspicions. “He's been arguing with his parents, and I know that Sara was holding up his land-development plans. She didn't want to sell her parcel of the land she and Gary split during the divorce. Without it, he couldn't develop the area the way he wanted.”

“That doesn't sound right,” Diana said. “Do you really think he would kill Sara and then Tish over some strip mall?”

“I don't know what he would do.” I shrugged. “I don't know what he's up to. All I know is that he's back in town and two people are dead.”

Vi nodded vigorously; my mother wrinkled her forehead. Dad set his paper down.

“I guess Sara could have been looking at Milo during the séance . . . ,” Diana said.

“That's just it.” I held my hands out, palms up. “We don't know what happened at the séance exactly, but it may have spooked him. Maybe he thought she was accusing him; maybe he thought she knew something,” I said.

“What about Gary?” Tom asked.

“The police department has him covered. I doubt he'll have any secrets left when Mac gets through with him.”

“Okay, what do we do?” Diana said.

“We'll set up a rotating schedule of surveillance,” I said.

Heads nodded. My family doesn't wallow; they like action.

“I'll take the first shift!” said Vi. She stood to leave.

“Vi, where are you going?” asked my mother.

“I'm off to keep an eye on Milo. We're going to watch him and catch him in the act, right?” Vi looked better already.

“Uh, the act of what?” said Alex.

“We don't know what he's up to,” I said. “We need to keep an eye on him in a
subtle
way.” I glanced at my aunt.

“I think we need to do more than that,” said Alex. “We need to entice him to act again.”

“You mean you want to tempt him?” asked Tom.

“Oh, that sounds dangerous,” said my mother. “Maybe we should leave this to the police.”

“The police aren't doing anything, Rose,” said Vi. “They don't think Milo's guilty. That's what Clyde's telling us.”

Everyone looked to Tom to confirm.

He hung his head. “It's true. Mac doesn't think it's Milo. He's keeping an eye on Gary.” He folded his hands on the table and didn't look up.

“We could pretend Clyde knows something.” Seth's muffled voice came from under the table. “Everyone in town thinks she's psychic; they'll all believe it if we say she knows who did it.”

We looked at each other, considering. Seth had a point. But undercover work was dangerous, even for a highly trained police division. I'd certainly never entertained the possibility with only a rookie officer and this sort of ragtag group as backup.

“Clyde, no. Don't put yourself in danger like this,” Diana pleaded.

“Let's start by following him and reporting back on his activities.” I put my hand over Diana's to reassure her. “Let's see what he's up to. He's certainly been arguing with enough people in town.”

I heard Baxter groan from under the table, either out of boredom or disgust at our lack of action, I wasn't sure.

“Do you think we need to use disguises? I have hats and sunglasses we could use,” Vi said. She started to get up.

“I'm sure no one needs disguises,” I said.

Vi slumped in her chair.

“I'll keep an eye on him when he's at the restaurant mucking around in my kitchen,” Alex said.

“I can take a shift when I'm off duty,” Tom said.

“I'll alert the cats to be on the lookout,” said Vi.

“That's a good idea, Vi.” My mother nodded while talking, as if agreeing with herself. “They're really helpful when it comes to this type of thing.”

“That's
if
they want to be helpful,” Vi said. She peered around the table to be sure no one was expecting much from the cats.

“We'll figure out a schedule that makes sense for everyone, and we'll try to make it look natural. No one has to sneak around looking like spies.” I held Aunt Vi's gaze for a moment. “That will only bring more attention to what we're doing.”

“What should I do? I should do something,” Mom said.

Vi patted her hand.

“We'll all get to do something. It's going to take a lot of people to keep track of Milo without him noticing,” I said.

“What should we do if he spots one of us? Do we have a code-word distress signal? I think we should have one of those,” Vi said.

My father put his head in his hands, and I noticed he was taking slow breaths.

“No. No distress signal. He's not likely to be a threat to any of us.”

“Except you, if he's heard you suspect him.” Diana's eyes were bright with irritation.

“Okay, let's just take this a step at a time. For now, we will simply follow him and see what he's doing around town.” I started passing out sheets of paper. “Write your phone number and pass the sheets around.”

Dad got up and mumbled something about maps; he hurried off to his den.

“So we'll text each other as the suspect moves around town?” said Tom.

“Your father doesn't text, Clyde. He thinks texting is when he slips me a note while I'm talking on the phone,” said Mom.

“Texting is very unreliable,” said Vi. “You never seem to get my texts, Clyde.”

Oh boy. I took a deep breath.

“We'll set up a phone tree; those who can't manage to deal with a text will get a phone call if possible.”

“Texting
is
much quieter,” Vi said. “I saw a movie once where a guy sent a text with the phone in his pocket. That's a skill that could come in handy.” She pulled out her phone and studied it.

Dad returned and gestured at everyone to clear the table. He spread out his ordinance maps of the area. Dad used the maps while listening to the police band; he could track the officer's movements and stay in the comfort of his own easy chair.

He placed an X on the hotel where Milo was staying. He then began a complicated zoning of the areas around it using glasses and saltshakers to indicate each of us and where our “territory” would be located.

Vi kept moving pieces when Dad was busy in another zone. She seemed to be trying to take over a larger area than was originally allotted to her pepper mill.

“Who takes the first shift?” Alex asked.

“Seth and I are the most mobile. We'll find him and keep an eye out and, if he goes somewhere we can't follow, we'll call one of you to let you know he's heading your way.”

“Well, he never comes to the house, so what should Rose and I do?” Vi said. Her mouth pulled downward as she noticed her pepper mill was back in the smallest zone on the map.

“You can come into town if you want and keep track of him while he's there and then hand him off when you have clients scheduled,” said Tom.

“All right, I guess that will work,” said Dad. He stood back to study the map.

“Frank can listen on his scanner to get an idea of where the police are and whether they're following Gary,” Mom said. “I can stay here by the phone in case anyone needs to get a message through.”

“Good idea, Mrs. Fortune,” said Tom. “It's good to have a backup plan.”

We were going to need a lot more than that, I thought.

Operation Catch Milo had been in effect for just
under twenty-four hours. It felt like twenty-four days. Vi had figured out how to text. My phone vibrated every few minutes with updates of her status, whether she was “on duty” or not. She had embraced the texting lingo and even invented her own words. It was easier to decipher a string of vanity license plates on game day in Ann Arbor.
url8, ivlsthim, wrru?
(“You're late, I've lost him, where are you?”) Typically by the time I'd deciphered the message, she had given up and texted a real message to Seth. She and Seth were also practicing texting “blind.” It wasn't going well.

Seth and I walked the canine gang through town while watching for Milo. Because it was Sunday, I'd called some of my clients and offered a free walk just so we would have a cover story. Vi and one of her cat spies had lookout duty at the park, which faced the hotel where Milo was staying. Mom had a lot to say on the subject of a son who stays in a hotel instead of with his parents “regardless of his age.” I was seriously regretting this whole thing.

My phone buzzed for the fourth time in five minutes, and I pulled it out of my back pocket with my free hand.
subject on move
, it read. Vi must have found the vowels on her keypad. I was about to turn it off when my other arm jerked forward and someone shouted.

“Get off! Down! Sit!”

All seven dogs sat. Even Baxter and Tuffy sat, and they were up the street with Seth.

I looked up to see who had worked this miracle, and saw Mac. I tried to calculate how long it would take to get rid of him.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Get them to sit like that?”

“I said, ‘Sit.'” Mac shrugged. “Don't you know it's not safe to walk and text?”

Seth's thumbs flew over his mini keyboard. Probably sending out that distress signal I had said we wouldn't need.

According to the plan, we should have been walking toward the park to pick up Milo's trail from Vi. Unfortunately, we were stymied by a chatty Mac, who stood in our path asking about the dogs.

I tried to answer him quickly and step past him, but the dogs were rooted to the spot, watching Mac as if he were their long-lost alpha. He glanced down at them and shook his head.

“How do you keep track of them all?”

“It's not that hard once you get to know them. They each have their own personality, just like people,” I said.

Seth bounced on his toes, clearly hoping this conversation would wrap up soon.

“Am I keeping you two from something important?”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Seth said.

Mac looked at us, his head tilted, questioning.

“We just need to get these guys to the park to finish their walk,” I said, and handed a few leashes to Seth, hoping he could escape and get to the park quickly. “They start to get antsy if their routine is messed up.”

“Oh, well, don't let me stop you.” Mac backed away to let us pass.

We started off toward the park, and Mac fell in beside me. My expression must have been less than welcoming.

“Is it okay if I tag along?”

“Sure, fine,” I said, and tried not to look at Seth, who was jerking his head as if he had a tic.

“How's the case going?” I said.

“It's not. There's very little evidence and no witnesses. You know the longer a case goes unsolved, the more likely it will stay unsolved.”

“Are you expanding your list of suspects?”

“You mean to include Milo Jones? No.”

“Mac, be reasonable. It can't be a coincidence that two people died right after he returned to town.” I hesitated as I realized I was agreeing with Vi's assessment of the situation, and that was never a good thing. “Plus, he was never cleared of the Julia Wyatt disappearance. I don't know why you won't even look at him.” I had stopped to make my point while Seth walked on ahead.

“I know it wasn't him, Clyde.”

“How do you know?”

“Let's just say I have a feeling.”

“Oh, you're hilarious. Psychic humor from the biggest skeptic in town.”

I glanced forward just in time to see Milo approach. He and Mac nodded a greeting, and Milo navigated his way past the dogs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vi hurry over to Seth, gesturing up the street after Milo. When she spotted Mac, she turned and zipped back across the street to the park, which might have worked if she hadn't darted in front of two cars and caused all that honking.

“What's Vi doing here?” said Mac.

“Vi? I don't see Vi,” I said, and turned to look behind us.

“She's right over there behind that tree. I think she's peeking at us. Does this have something to do with all these dogs?”

“No, I don't think so. Maybe she's just out for a walk. She likes to stay in shape.”

I tried to get Mac's attention back to me and the dogs, but he was drawn to Vi, hiding behind a skinny maple tree in the park.

Mac started across the street toward Vi just as Tom rounded the corner of the hotel. He was moving too quickly to turn around at first sight of Mac. Unfortunately he tried anyway, and his attempt at looking natural while turning in mid-sprint and then slamming full force into a parking meter caught us all off guard.

Tom was bent over and wheezing by the time Mac and I got to him.

“Andrews, what are you doing?” Mac said. He raised his voice to be heard over Tom's labored breathing.

Seth ran over to us with his five dogs. My four acted as if they hadn't seen the other group in years. Between the wheezing and the exuberant dog greetings, a crowd had gathered. Seth continued texting with his free hand and made such a show of it that Mac noticed and grabbed the phone from him.

“What's going on around here?”

I reached for the phone and for a moment our hands were entwined but not in the nice, stroll-along-the-beach way. This was a fight-for-possession kind of entwining.

“This is an illegal search and seizure!” I said.

“Give me a break, Clyde. I'm not going to arrest him. I
would
like to know who he's texting so furiously in the middle of this chaos.” He glanced across the street. “Vi seems to be focused on her phone as well. Does she know how to text? Or is she still sending messages through the cats in town?”

I was still attached to the four biggest dogs by their leashes, which were wrapped in my left hand. As Andrews struggled to regain an upright posture, they noticed him and lunged in his direction. I was pulled along and lost my grip on the phone.

Seth was forced to follow by the pulling of his pack, and we watched in horror as Mac glanced at the small metal device divulging all our secrets. His expression went from bemused to stormy as he scrolled through the text conversation between Seth and Vi.

As we stood watching Mac, I noticed my mother's orange smart car turn the corner about a block away. It drove slowly past the park and then stopped at the curb. Vi darted out from behind the tree just as Mac turned to call her over to our little gathering.

“Ms. Greer! I need to talk to you!” He started toward Vi.

Vi hopped in the passenger side. My mother must have hit the gas pretty hard, because the car took off, its tires squealing. I didn't know her car could accelerate that fast.

Tom had regained control of his breathing and stood upright, but his face turned an unpleasant shade of green when Mac turned and headed back in our direction.

Mac used his patented stare-down technique on us. I knew what he was doing and carefully avoided eye contact. Seth held up okay, as well. He studied his shoes and waited for the adults to make the first move. I could tell Tom was weakening.

“Mac, I don't know what you think is going on here, but you have no right to keep Seth's phone,” I said.

He silently handed it to Seth.

This was going to be tougher than I thought.

“Andrews, what do you have to do with this?” Mac said.

“I don't . . . I didn't. Nothing, sir.”

Mac focused his full attention on Tom and, I have to say, it was impressive. Tom was stronger than I thought. He stuck with his story, which put Mac in a tough spot. No one had done anything wrong, but he knew from the phone that we had been watching someone, and he was smart enough to realize that the someone was probably Milo.

Seth's phone buzzed. We all looked at it. Seth pressed a button on the side and slipped it into his pocket. He bent and patted the dogs, who had also become strangely quiet during this stare-down.

“Okay, you three need to really hear me on this.” Mac looked at each of us. “Stay away from Milo.”

“We weren't—”

“You aren't a good liar, Clyde. Don't even try.”

“You two are not to pursue this investigation.” He pointed at Seth and me. “Andrews, I would pull you off this case right now if I had the manpower to cover your absence.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I understand you want to know who killed Tish. But whoever did it is dangerous. I don't want more people hurt.”

“Okay,” I said, as sincerely as I could.

Seth glanced at me to see if I was really giving in.

“Okay,” Seth said.

“Someone needs to get a message to Thelma and Louise. Tell them to quit following Milo.” He turned and looked at me. “And tell your mother I'm not against giving her a reckless driving ticket if she keeps leaving tire marks on the street.” Mac bent down, gave a pat to Baxter, and limped up the street.

* * *

Monday afternoon, my
psychic/psycho gang gathered in my mother's dining room again. Vi had taken to calling it “headquarters.” Seth and I had just returned from morning dog rounds. It had been a long week since discovering Sara's body, and we all looked worn out. Only Alex was missing, as he was finishing with the lunch crowd. Tuffy joined us at the table; he was on Seth's lap. Baxter rested his head on the table near Vi. She was knitting something long and orange and kept shrugging him off her arm when he leaned too close.

“I saw Milo buy bacon,” she said.

“Maybe he likes bacon,” said Dad.

“My cats saw him take a shovel and put it in his car,” she said.

“Really? A shovel?” I said. I looked up from the book Diana was showing me. There were more spells and talismans she wanted to try.

“Well, they didn't call it that. But that's what they described. They said they could tell he was up to something and he put ‘a large dirt-thrower' in his car.”

“I've been checking the cards, and it's clear that Milo is involved in all of this somehow,” Mom said.

“Tommy, you said someone's been digging out in the woods, right?” Vi turned her attention to Tom, who shrank into his chair.

He nodded.

“Why would Milo carry around a shovel unless he's the one digging up the forest floor?” She set her knitting in her lap and put her hands out as if this was the most logical conclusion in the world.

“Milo has no reason to dig in the woods, Vi,” Dad said.

“How do you know? He's probably looking for the body of his ex-girlfriend.” She began furiously knitting again. “He needs to find it and move it before all the digging starts for the construction.”

A hush fell over the table as we considered this possibility. Even though most of it was based on cat reports and hearsay, it
was
a possibility.

“So you're saying Milo's an idiot?” Seth asked.

Diana snorted, and Dad chuckled.

Vi's face turned a dangerous red. “Do you have a better idea, Mr. Smarty-pants?”

“It just seems to me that if I had buried a body out in the woods I would have a general idea of where it would be.” Seth didn't look up from his iPod as his thumbs waged war on zombies or aliens on the tiny screen. “Plus, I wouldn't return to town with a building project guaranteed to dig up that body.”

Seth had scored a point but at great cost; he would have realized this if he had looked at Vi while he was talking. Vi didn't like to have her theories squelched. Part of my brain considered her idea; Milo had something going on besides the strip mall project.

“Tom, what can you tell us?” I hoped he would have something good to divert Vi's attention.

He'd been watching my mother's cards as if she were performing magic tricks. “Things are not very good at the station,” Tom said. “We don't have much to go on, and Mac is getting irritated.”

“I'm sure we didn't help much yesterday,” I said.

“He hasn't mentioned it again, actually. I thought he'd bring it up every chance he got, but he's been all business. Everyone's checking and double-checking the evidence. Mac spent some time in the archives, but I don't know what he was looking for. He sent us back out to canvas the neighborhoods for witnesses. That's what I'm supposed to be doing right now.”