The Busy Woman's Guide to Murder (8 page)

Margaret crossed her arms. “She didn’t ask
me
for forgiveness and it’ll be a cold day in hell when she gets it.”

Jack said, “We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of. Let it go.”

“You must be kidding,” Sally interjected. “I have my own children and I don’t want to forget what it was like coping with those bullies. I want to listen to my kids and pay attention if someone is making their lives miserable.”

Pepper tossed in her two cents’ worth. “One of the reasons I became a cop was to make sure no one ever had that kind of power over me again.”

Jack just shook his head.

Margaret said, “Don’t judge us, Jack. You got off easy with that adoption comment. But you were a guy. They didn’t find the right way to harm you. Or Charlotte. Girls were their targets. Mona’s life must have been unbearable. She might not have been the only one. And you’re right, Pepper. I think one of the reasons I went into law was so that I could sue the pants off anyone who ever tried to pull stunts like that.”

Sally said, “One of the reasons I got a gun was so—”

“You do not have a gun, Sal,” Jack said.

As Sally produced little Madison’s water pistol, I sat there thinking. I was pretty sure that Serena and her gang hadn’t influenced my career. But it might have had an impact on Mona’s. Mona’s life had been intolerable. I was now sure that there were many more crimes against her than I’d ever realized. And they had been crimes. Real crimes. Now Mona made her living ensuring that people were helped and rescued when they needed to be. She was good at that job too. Although if she continued to unravel, that could change. Mona could lose the self-respect she’d worked so hard to gain. My thinking had changed a bit. I’d found it easy to feel sorry for Haley when she approached me. Now I wasn’t so sure.

As we finally headed out to our snow-covered cars, I stood near Pepper as I swept the latest layer of snow from the roof of my Miata. “I sure was lucky I invested in snow tires this year. My all-seasons would have been hell in all this snow.” After years of being on the outs with Pepper, I felt comfortable with her once again. We’d been inching toward that for a while, but as the result of events from the previous June, any hard feelings she’d nurtured were gone. I felt I could trust her advice. I said, “This is probably ridiculous, but what if Mona seriously intends to harm someone? What if she is over the edge? We’d feel pretty bad if Serena was killed or injured, wouldn’t we?”

She didn’t hesitate. “As a police officer, I’d be appalled and I’d have no choice but to take action. I’m sworn to uphold the law. Personally though, I wouldn’t lose sleep over any of those bullies.”

In the pale light of the snow, Pepper’s face was hard. If Mona did something wrong, Pepper would arrest her without a qualm, but there’d be no tears for the victim. I was beginning to understand that was a common reaction from my usually kind and gentle friends.

I said, “Isn’t it better to take action before something happens? Mona’s not even herself, she’s so worked up. She sounds more distraught and angry every time I talk to her. What should I do? Go over there? I don’t actually know where she lives.”

“You don’t do anything. You don’t get yourself all involved. Do not go over to her house or even try to find out where it is. I will talk sense to Mona. I’ll figure out if she needs some professional help. She’s a trained worker with our department; she works with the police. For sure, she can’t be going around talking like that.”

“Or doing something that can’t be undone.”

“Leave it with me.”

“Okay.”

“Charlotte?”

“Yes?”

“I mean it.”

“Hey, fine with me. I have no desire to get any more caught up in this situation. I have more than enough to do this week. I was just minding my own business when she called me. I’m still not so sure why that was, unless she thought of me as a friend. You helped her out and stuck up for her, but maybe she chose not to talk to you because you’re with the police. I get that. I feel bad telling you about this situation, but I was concerned.”

“Remember what I’m saying. Don’t start sticking your nose into an active investigation.”

“Don’t worry,” I said as I got into my car to follow Jack, who had arrived separately in his ancient dung-colored Mini-Minor that evening. “I’m happy to leave you with this problem. I know you’ll handle it.”

It had stopped snowing by the time we approached the yellow Victorian house I loved. I was still thinking about the mean girls and their impact on people like Mona. As we got out of our cars, I said, “We were very lucky in our friendships. You know that?”

Jack turned to face me. “Still are lucky.”

“And you’re right, Jack. I guess if you can’t forgive, it would only be bad for you.”

“Sure. It would blight your existence. Make you bitter. Color the way you perceive life and limit your joy.”

Pondering that, I headed up the stairs to take the dogs out. It was a bright, cold April night, with eight inches of recently fallen snow turning our street into a wonderland. That would have been good at Christmas, but it was just plain bizarre at this time of year. It was beautiful though. Quiet, calm, and soothing now that we didn’t have to drive in it. The dogs did not share my opinion on the wonderland. They do not do cold and snow. It’s summer or nothing for them. This might have been the shortest dog walk on record.

In our brief absence Jack had made himself at home in my living room and Truffle and Sweet Marie flung themselves at him to warm up.

I joined him on the sofa and said, “The others seemed pretty bothered by it.”

“Because we were all talking about it. That brought it back. But I bet they don’t give it a moment’s thought otherwise. We’re all busy and successful in our own way, Charlotte. That childish cruelty can’t do anyone any harm now.”

“Hope you’re right. I stirred it up, I suppose, by talking about Haley and the victim.”

The rest of the evening, I was distracted by thoughts of Mona. She had obviously not forgiven her tormentors and just as obviously had no intention of starting now.

Was Mona a danger to anyone in her angry and emotional state? Or was I just being overly dramatic? I couldn’t shake the thoughts as I tidied up and laid out my clothes for the morning, or later as I made my To Do list. That’s right, even on Sunday, there’s always something worth doing. I made sure I had no more than five key items identified, and four of them were just plain fun. That was something I’d come to realize in the past few months. I kept a master list of chores, tasks, goals, and targets, and checked it first. One of my goals was to have more fun. Another was to spend more quality time with Jack. Still another was to try to eat better. Once I hit thirty-one, I started to notice that certain foods stayed with me, in places I’d rather they didn’t settle. Oh well, nothing lasts forever.

I set two places for breakfast, something new that Jack and I were sharing in pursuit of that healthier post-thirty lifestyle, not that Jack ever gained an ounce. Breakfast was my job. Jack used to love to cook, but I hated the chaos he’d create in my kitchen and now he seems to have forgotten how to do anything except order out. I wondered if there was a solution to that as I cut up some vegetable sticks for the next day, prepared some juice, set out the cereal box, vitamins, and a bit of fruit. I made sure the coffee was ready to go. I emptied my handbag and put away papers that needed to be filed, added a few things to my ongoing grocery list on the fridge. I washed my face, exfoliated, brushed my teeth, flossed, slathered on moisturizer to prevent dry winter skin, even though winter should have been long gone. All good, but even I knew it was boring.

Jack had been reading a crime novel on the sofa throughout this, one dog asleep in the crook of his arm, the other stretched out against his leg. It was an updated Norman Rockwell picture, even with Jack’s soft snores as he dozed off. Still, I couldn’t relax. I knew it was because of my Mona worries. I kept expecting the phone to ring. I checked my cell phone. I checked my landline. I checked my cell phone again. No new messages from Mona or anyone else. Jack opened his eyes, yawned and stretched.

I said, “Let’s just get the Ben and Jerry’s and not talk about this whole bullying thing.”

“But you’ve already brushed your teeth.”

“I’ll brush them again. What part of ‘don’t talk’ isn’t clear to you, Mr. Philosopher?”

We polished off a tub of Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk. It might have been winter outside, but good old-fashioned ice cream met some deep inner needs, for sure—stoked my serotonin and all that. Even so, by the time I said good night to Jack and watched him lope lazily down the stairs to his own apartment, brushed my teeth again, and settled down in my frog pajamas under my snuggly duvet with my two warm little dogs at the end of the bed, all that ice cream hadn’t been enough to put Mona Pringle out of my mind.

All night long, I tossed like a stormy sea.

“What time is it?” I said, staggering out of bed.

I’d been talking to myself, but Jack answered, “Nine.”

He was already back upstairs. I pushed aside the recurring thought that it would be nice if he just lived here. No point in making myself miserable. I grumped, “Since when do I sleep in until nine? I am up at dawn every morning, raring to go. People hate me for it. Nine? Are you kidding?”

“First time for everything. I walked Truffle and Sweet Marie for you. They didn’t sleep in. I fed them too. They didn’t care for the snow much and they’re recovering under their blanket on your sofa. Coffee?”

I nodded. I sat in grateful silence as the heavenly scent filled the room. I would have enjoyed spending the morning in my cozy apartment with Jack, but he had some urgent thing to take care of and needed some time at the shop. He headed off to CYCotics shortly after breakfast, dressed for the tropics as usual.