Authors: Erika Chase
Chapter Ten
“Great,” I said to myself. “Just great.”
GRACE INTERRUPTED
—JULIE HYZY
L
izzie could see Jacob through the window at the police station, pacing in the small
front lobby. When she entered the building, he stopped and rushed over to her.
“I’m glad you came, Lizzie. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. This is not at all
like Sally-Jo.”
“Won’t they let you in there with her? You’re her lawyer, aren’t you?”
“She refused to have me there,” he said, looking totally forlorn.
Lizzie opened her mouth to answer at the same time the door to Mark’s office opened.
Mark closed the door behind him, glanced at Lizzie and walked toward them.
“She sits there like a stone. This isn’t good,” he said to Jacob, then shifted his
weight to his left leg as he turned to Lizzie. “I don’t know what’s going on with
her but we need some answers and it’s looking bad for her when she won’t talk. This
is highly unusual, but I’m going to let you talk to her, try to get her to cooperate.
I don’t have anything to hold her on but I’m tempted to lock her up until she starts
explaining things.”
“Lock her up? What’s this about, Mark? What do you think she’s done?” Lizzie asked,
forgetting her own discomfort at seeing him.
“She’s being questioned in the murder of Derek Alton.”
“Yes, we all are. But why bring her in here? Why the heavy tactics?”
Mark’s cheek twitched. “Believe me, Lizzie, these are not heavy tactics. I have reason
to believe there was a connection between her and the deceased and until she gives
me some answers, it’s looking shaky for her.”
“What connection? What makes you think that?”
Mark took his time in answering. “We found a notebook among Alton’s possessions. He’d
written the date, time and location of your book club meeting but nothing else about
the book club itself. Except for Sally-Jo Baker’s name followed by several exclamation
marks.”
Lizzie thought back quickly to their first meeting. She had mentioned everyone’s name
and Derek had written down her phone number. But why Sally-Jo’s name?
“But she was teaching Tuesday afternoon,” Jacob interjected.
“We checked on that. She took some personal time in the afternoon. The vice principal
covered her class. Right about the time Alton was murdered.”
Lizzie gasped. “Oh, but it’s just a coincidence. That’s all. Sally-Jo is not a murderer
even if she did know Derek Alton. And who’s saying she did?”
Mark sighed. “I’m not going to debate this with you, Lizzie. Will you talk to her
or not?”
“Yes, of course I will. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Good.” He walked to his office and held open the door for her.
Sally-Jo looked up when Lizzie walked in. She’d been sitting in one of the two hard-backed
chairs, pulled up to Mark’s desk, leaning her head on her arms, folded on the desktop.
“Oh, Lizzie,” she wailed. “What am I going to do?”
Lizzie rushed over to her. “Sally-Jo, what’s this all about? Why aren’t you telling
Mark what he wants to know?” She put her arms around Sally-Jo and hugged her.
Sally-Jo seemed to relax, then stood up, almost knocking Lizzie over. “It’s such a
mess. I just wish it would all go away. I wish I’d never met Derek Alton.”
“When did you meet him?”
Sally-Jo looked startled. “Mark hasn’t told you?”
Lizzie shook her head. “I think the only thing Mark knows is that Derek had your name
written in his notebook.”
Sally-Jo’s shoulders shuddered and she sat back down. “I’m so embarrassed. It’s something
I thought I’d put behind me and hoped never to think about again. I certainly didn’t
want you or Jacob to know. I was such an idiot.”
“Sally-Jo. You stop that and tell me right now. We love you. Nothing’s going to change
that. But we all need to know what’s going on so that we can clear your name. Please,
tell me. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”
Tears rolled down Sally-Jo’s checks. She looked at Lizzie and tried to smile. “Promise?”
“I promise.” Lizzie pulled the other chair over so she could sit down facing Sally-Jo.
Sally-Jo took a deep breath and brushed away the tears. “I met Derek when I was a
freshman in college. He was writer-in-residence and taught a creative writing course.
I took it because I needed the credits and it looked like fun. I’d never really thought
about writing but he told me I had talent when I handed in a short story. He wanted
to ‘help me grow as a writer.’” Sally-Jo held up her fingers to indicate quotation
marks. Lizzie braced herself for what she thought was coming.
Old, sad story.
She sighed. “We had an affair but I ended it after a few weeks. I came to my senses
and realized as I watched him with the other girls in the class that I was probably
one of many who were getting ‘extra help.’ I felt like such a fool. I dropped the
course and picked up something else for the second term.”
Lizzie waited and when Sally-Jo didn’t appear to be adding more to the story, said,
“You were young and impressionable. And I’d imagine he was quite irresistible. Did
you see him after that?”
Sally-Jo shook her head. “When I heard that he’d be talking to the book club . . .
that’s why I asked you what he wanted to know about us and if you’d mentioned my name.
I decided I would skip that night. Beg off at the last moment. I had no desire to
see him again, especially if he knew I would be there. I would have been mortified.”
“I think you’d be smart to tell Mark the entire story. He won’t go telling it around.
But he also wants to know what you were doing the afternoon Derek was shot.”
Sally-Jo gasped. “Oh God. I hadn’t thought about that. I wasn’t at school. I’d asked
Vanda Striker to fill in for me for an hour. But I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even
know he was at your house.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, I couldn’t get Derek Alton being at our meeting out of my mind. So, I guess
I panicked. I knew I had to talk to him and made him promise not to say anything about
us. And I thought Jensey Pollard would know where he was staying. I didn’t want to
see him but I was desperate. Can you understand that?” She looked sheepishly at Lizzie.
Lizzie smiled. “Did you go to the Book Bin?”
Sally-Jo nodded.
“Well, that’s great. Then you’ve got an alibi. Jensey Pollard can vouch for you.”
“No, she can’t. The store was closed. She’d tacked up a sign about having gone to
the bank.”
“Yeah, that’s annoying when she does that.”
She leaned over and hugged Sally-Jo. “Just tell Mark, okay? I don’t think that’s a
strong motive for killing him. It will be all right. I’m sure.”
Sally-Jo nodded.
“And you need to tell Jacob, too.”
Sally-Jo hesitated but after a few seconds answered. “I will,” she said softly.
* * *
L
izzie had a hard time getting to sleep that night. Too many details clogging up her
brain. It had been a real shock to hear about Sally-Jo’s past relationship with Derek.
She just hoped Jacob had been okay with the news. But why wouldn’t he? He had hidden
the fact of his marriage from Sally-Jo and all of them for some time. He was not the
one to take the high road.
She knew for certain that Sally-Jo wasn’t the killer. No way. So, if Derek had a hidden
past—and that seemed certain—was there anyone else in Ashton Corners who also knew
him? Otherwise, the only other possibility was the stalker theory, someone who followed
him to town. That was certainly possible—he was a high-profile type of guy.
Maybe Jensey Pollard knew something about him or might have some ideas as to why he
came to Ashton Corners. Why was he here? It was pure luck that Lizzie met him at the
Book Bin. Natural for him to stop into the local bookstore and offer to sign stock.
But he wouldn’t come to town purely for that reason. It was unlikely Jensey had invited
him, because she hadn’t organized an event. So, back to the question . . . why was
he in town? Maybe Jensey would have some ideas. Time to stop by the store and stock
up on some holiday reading material.
And then there was Mark. Mr. Cool himself at the station. She thought back to the
first time she’d seen him, number twelve in the red and beige uniform of the Ashton
Corners Gladiators. A football hero if ever there was one. But he was two years ahead
of her and light-years removed in the fold of cute cheerleaders surrounding him. He
made her toes tingle every time he glanced her way, even though she knew in her heart
of hearts that he didn’t know she existed. What a shock to find out he indeed had
noticed her and, furthermore, wanted to date her. Of course, it took the previous
murder in Ashton Corners to bring them together. That was three months ago. Oh boy,
a lot had happened in such a short time.
Brie, fed up with Lizzie’s tossing and turning, jumped down off the bed. A few seconds
later, Edam curled up in the abandoned warm spot at her left side. She reached out
and stroked the soft fur, concentrating on the movement, willing her brain to clear
itself and finally let her rest. The next thing she knew, a horn fanfare roused her
to consciousness. She opened an eye and reached over to shut off the radio.
Focus. It’s Saturday. Day off. Shopping. House cleaning. Ugh
. Both eyes popped open as she remembered her date with Mark. Last weekend he’d asked
her over for dinner tonight. She wondered if it were still on. He did have the excuse
of an active investigation, if he wanted to avoid her.
Don’t be paranoid. He’ll call
. Of course he would. But what if he didn’t? Should she call him to confirm? She couldn’t
just assume and show up at his house. Or could she? Pretend nothing had happened.
Oh God . . . why is nothing simple?
She willed herself to get out of bed, slid her feet into slippers, pulled a bathrobe
around her and trudged downstairs to the kitchen. Definitely lacking energy here.
She should go for a run. No, she’d given herself the day off. She opened the cupboard,
ground some espresso beans and turned on the espresso maker, meanwhile grabbing a
spoonful of almond butter. Espresso cup in hand, she made her way into the living
room, then opened the front door to retrieve the newspaper. She almost dropped her
cup. It was snowing.
It never snowed in Ashton Corners. All right, maybe it did, but she couldn’t remember
the last time it had happened. But this was definitely snow and there was already
a light covering on the ground. Why couldn’t it have waited until Christmas? Or maybe
it would stick around till then. Not likely.
She realized she was shivering and closed the door. She positioned the bucket chair
so it faced outside and curled up in it, taking a sip of espresso. For a moment, all
felt right with the world, until thoughts of driving crept into her mind. She had
all-season tires. Surely they would get her through any snowdrifts.
Like there’s going to be that much snow.
She should shovel her front walkway, though, and Nathaniel’s, also. She couldn’t allow
him to do that. But she didn’t have a shovel. So, she’d borrow one. This would be
an adventure, that’s for sure.
A golden retriever that lived up the street came bounding over the lawn, stopping
for a roll and leaping up when his owner caught up to him. She longed to be out on
the lawn frolicking with the golden. Dogs greeted snow with such abandon. All joy.
No dreary thoughts holding them back. No conscience saying,
Do housework
.
She finished drinking and left the newspaper on the coffee table. She’d read it later.
She wanted to get outside. She felt like a little kid.
She decided to skip breakfast and stop for brunch downtown and hurriedly got dressed.
She added an extra pair of socks, then pulled her rain boots on, added her heaviest
jacket and gloves and went next door to knock on Nathaniel’s door.
It took several minutes for him to answer, and when he did, he was still in his bathrobe.
Lizzie tried not to let the surprise she felt show on her face. Nathaniel was always
up and dressed with daylight. She hoped he wasn’t ill. His coloring looked just fine.
Slightly on the pink side. Oh well, he was taking the morning off, too.
“Sorry to bother you, Nathaniel. Look at this amazing weather. I just thought I’d
borrow a shovel and clear our walks, in case it gets any deeper.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Oh my. Yes, it’s highly unusual, especially this early
in December. That’s most kind but I can do the walkways later, when it stops, Lizzie.”
“I’d really like to do it, Nathaniel. I want to be out in the snow. Besides, it’s
good exercise.”
“Well, okay then. I have a wide-blade shovel in the back shed. It’s probably behind
the mower, though. If you don’t mind, I’ll let you go and find it yourself.” He looked
down at this bathrobe.
“No problem. I’ll keep it in case I need to shovel again and then return it when it
stops snowing.”
“Sure. No rush. And, thank you, Lizzie.” He closed the door and she made her way around
to the shed. That was odd, she thought. No invitation to join him for something freshly
baked. Not that she needed anything. Especially since she wasn’t running this morning.
It didn’t take her long to clear both sidewalks, but she realized it might be time
to drag out her weights and give her arms a toning. Nothing like a little physical
labor to point out what body parts are out of shape. She thought she’d leave the driveway
until the snow stopped. She looked toward the house and noticed for the first time
that footprints led up to her car. She followed them as they circled the car and stopped
at the front end where the snow was messed up.
Andie, she’d bet. But it seemed early for her to be out on a Saturday. What if it
wasn’t Andie? What if she’d been right . . . someone trying to rig her car with explosives?
No, that was just too unbelievable. Still, Lizzie hesitated for only a moment before
getting down on her hands and knees and peering under the car. She couldn’t see anything,
but what did that mean? Probably the tracks belonged to Andie. Sure. That was it.