Jenn McKinlay - Due Or Die

“All right,” Lindsey said. “Don’t forget.”

Beth nodded and revved the engine. Lindsey watched her hop over the drifts with a nervous flutter in her chest. She glanced up at the sky. The snow pelted down onto her goggles, melting against the flesh-warmed plastic until all she could see was spots.

BRIAR CREEK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

Heathcliff danced a doggy dance of delight when Lindsey stepped through the door. She smiled, almost tempted to match his happy dance. There was something about coming home to a being that had no compunction about showing how much he had missed her that made Lindsey’s mood lighten even as the storm beat down on the eaves with a hammering that was relentless.

Although they had not discussed it, they all gathered in Nancy’s living room to while away the rest of the afternoon and evening. They cooked spaghetti on Charlie’s stove while Nancy whipped up a salad and Lindsey ran up to her apartment to bring down a fresh loaf of olive bread.

They ate in candlelight, and conversation moved from Charlie’s tour and the uncertain future of the band to what Lindsey had seen while she was digging out the library.

Carrie offered to help Lindsey with the dishes. Since she was bone weary from shoveling the snow, Lindsey was grateful for the assist.

The window over the kitchen sink looked out over the side yard, and Lindsey noticed that Carrie scanned the yard every time her gaze strayed to the window.

“Are you looking for your kids?” she asked. “Are they on their way?”

“No.” Carrie shook her head. “I told them to wait until the roads were passable. Our family has suffered enough tragedy for the time being.”

Lindsey was silent for a moment, not sure if she should say more, but she wanted Carrie to know that she could talk to her.

“What is it, then?” she asked. She figured it was better to offer Carrie the opportunity to talk even if Carrie gave her the brush-off. “It’s obvious something is on your mind.”

“I just”-Carrie hesitated-“I just can’t help wondering if Markus was the intended target of the shooter.”

“What do you mean?” Lindsey handed her the last of the dripping plates.

“I mean, and I know this sounds nuts, but what if the killer was looking for me?”

“Is there a reason you think this?”

“Well, I know Markus wasn’t very well liked,” Carrie said. “But I don’t think anyone hated him enough to shoot him. He rarely left the house. He never left his zip code. Who could have wanted him dead?”

“The police don’t think it was an accident, do they?”

“They haven’t said for sure.”

“But?”

“But I don’t see how they could,” Carrie said. “Both of my neighbors have called me to see how I’m doing, and when we talked about what happened, neither of them could remember hearing anything like a shot being fired in the evening. No matter what the medical examiner says, I know he was shot after seven o’clock, because when I left the house, he was fine.”

“It’s nice of your neighbors to check on you,” Lindsey said.

“Well, we’ve all lived there for twenty-five years. Marcia lives on one side and Cindy on the other,” Carrie said. “Our kids ran in and out of each other’s houses for years. I know them almost as well as I know myself.”

She stacked the dried plate on top of the pile, and Lindsey put the stack up in the cupboard.

“But if what you say is true, then you’re saying someone would want to shoot you. You’re very well liked in the community,” Lindsey said. “I can’t imagine that anyone would want to harm you.”

Carrie carefully folded her dish towel and placed it on the counter. When she looked up again, her brown eyes were troubled.

“There’s one person,” she said. “But I hate to name names. I mean, what if I’m wrong? That would be slander.”

Lindsey studied her. She thought about who in town might have a grudge against Carrie. One name leapt forward and she said, “How about if I guess?”

Carrie raised her brows and nodded.

“Marjorie Bilson, aka Batty Bilson, who apparently has a passion for Bill Sint?” Lindsey asked and Carrie gasped.

“How did you know that was who I was thinking?”

“Because she’s off her rocker,” Lindsey said. “She came after me when you took over Bill’s role as president of the Friends.”

“Really?”

Lindsey nodded. A draft of cold air circled around her and she shivered. “Come on, let’s talk by the fire.”

They rejoined Charlie and Nancy in the living room. The two of them were engrossed in a game of chess. Judging by the accumulated pieces by each of them, Charlie was winning.

Lindsey and Carrie sat down on the hearth and let the fire’s heat wash over their backs. Soon it would be too hot to sit this close, but for the moment it felt good. Heathcliff lay down beside Lindsey and rested his chin on her feet. She reached down and gently rubbed his ears.

“The day after Markus was shot, I got a weird and very creepy phone call from Marjorie Bilson,” Lindsey said. “I didn’t mention it to you because I felt you had enough going on, but I did play it for Officer Plewicki and she recorded it.”

“What did it say?” Carrie asked.

“Basically, that now that you were going to jail for murdering your husband, she wanted to know when Bill would be reinstated as the president of the Friends.”

Both Charlie and Nancy turned their attention from the game to listen.

“Is that the message you played for Emma at the police station?” Nancy asked. “I heard her tell the chief about it. I got the feeling she was going to bring Marjorie in, but I wonder if the storm has shifted their priorities.”

“It would have to,” Charlie said. “They can’t chase down a murderer when half the town is out of power and buried under snow.”

They were all silent for a moment or two. The house, still without power, creaked and groaned under the onslaught of wind and ice. Even huddled together in the cozy living room, it was impossible not to feel vulnerable.

Heathcliff rose to his feet and did a quick survey of the doors and windows. To Lindsey, it looked as if he were checking the perimeter. He was just a puppy, but she found it incredibly comforting to have him finish his circuit and sit back down at her feet as if assured that all was well.

“If your neighbors didn’t hear a shot, and assuming it wasn’t an accident, then that means it was someone who knows how to use a gun,” Lindsey said. “Does Marjorie have a history with firearms?”

Carrie, Nancy and Charlie all looked at one another. Charlie was the first to raise his hands in defeat.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean everyone knows her elevator doesn’t reach the top floor, but it’s not like she’s Dale Wilcox.”

“True,” Nancy said. “Now there’s one you don’t turn your back on.”

“Who’s Dale Wilcox?” Lindsey asked.

“He’s a local fisherman,” Charlie said. “You see him down at the pier a lot. He runs a charter operation, but he’s as mean as a hornet, and when he’s drunk, he’s mean and crazy. He did time for assault and battery a few years back, and if I remember right, he had a weapon on him at the time of his arrest.”

Carrie fretted her lip. “It wasn’t Dale. I know he has a bad reputation, but he wasn’t always like that. I don’t believe he’d harm anyone.”

“He went to jail for assault!” Charlie argued. “Rumor has it he was going to shoot that guy.”

“As you say, rumors not facts,” Carrie said.

“Wait a minute,” Nancy said. “I just remembered! I was at the grocery store, and I saw Dale and Markus get into a road-rage incident a few weeks ago. Dale thought Markus had cut him off to steal his parking spot, and when he yelled at Markus about it, Markus threatened to call the police. Dale got so mad at that he threatened to back over him.”