Emily Littlejohn - Inherit the Bones

Ellen wiped the silver spoon on a white napkin and then leaned forward and, with the same napkin, gently wiped at the corners of Frank’s mouth. The elderly man continued to stare at her; his hands idle in his lap, his shoulders hunched forward.

“So, what? He told you but not me?” Annika asked. A hurt look replaced the confusion on her face and tears welled up in her bright eyes. She glared at her mother. “He never said a word about any of this.”

Ellen sighed. I could feel the exasperation in her breath.

“He didn’t tell me. I went at the school one afternoon in, oh, I don’t know, late April or May. I thought I’d surprise him at practice and take him to an early dinner at Enrique’s. But the coach said Nicky had quit the team, to concentrate on his studies. I was shocked, of course, but you know Nicky wasn’t that great of a player. I think it helped the team to lose the dead weight,” she said.

Annika gasped and a deep bloom rose in her mother’s cheeks as she realized her poor choice of words. Ellen bit her lip, and then went on. “Well, anyway. Everyone knows Nicky was no athlete.”

She folded the white napkin she’d used on Franklin into a neat, tidy square, tucked the silver spoon into the napkin and set it down on the table, and then poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and took a sip. She noticed Mrs. Watkins was still on her hands and knees, dabbing at the carpet.

Ellen said, “Hannah, dear, don’t worry about the stain. I’ll have the cleaners work on it tomorrow. You’ve done enough. I think your father’s probably ready for a nap soon.”

Mrs. Watkins rose from her knees and picked up the towel, with the broken shards, and left the room with a nod. I watched her leave and wondered not for the first time what she thought of her sister-in-law.

As though reading my mind, Ellen said, “We’re so lucky to have Terry’s sister with us. Quiet as a mouse, she spends her days watching over my family. Such a shame she couldn’t have children of her own; she adores kids. Everyone thinks I’m the strong one in the family, but I’ll let you in on a little secret-that woman is a rock.”

Annika said, “Mom, don’t try to change the subject. Why was this a big secret with Nicky? Everyone in Cedar Valley was obsessed after you found the bodies, Gemma. They all thought they were going to solve the ‘mystery of the century.’ Why didn’t Nicky just tell us the truth?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Regardless, two days before he died he told the librarian at Cedar Valley Public Library that he was finished with his research. I think he may have found something, something big, and in between telling her that, and going over Bride’s Veil, something happened to scare him. Scare him bad enough to go on the run.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the mayor began, but Ellen interrupted him.

“Is it ridiculous? Nicholas was a puppy dog, trusting everyone, eager to please. He could never have made it in politics.”

She turned to me and continued. “If you’re right, and so far I haven’t heard anything to think you might be wrong, perhaps Nicky revealed this big find to the wrong person.”

I nodded. “That’s exactly what I think.”

“Nick was a smart kid. If he’d figured out who the Woodsman was, he wouldn’t have gone up to the guy,” Terence Bellington said. “That’s just stupid and my son wasn’t stupid. He would have gone to the police… or me.”

He stood and paced the living room, one hand rubbing the back of his neck so vigorously it turned scarlet. After a moment, he stopped pacing and jammed his hands into the kangaroo pocket at the front of his sweatshirt and stared at us.

Finn spoke first. “Maybe he wanted to blackmail the guy.”

Ellen laughed and to my amusement, I saw Finn jump at her harsh bark. “Are you completely retarded? Do you have any idea what our worth is? Nick’s allowance was more than you make in a week. Money doesn’t matter to this family. We just happen to have a hell of a lot of it.”

Finn turned bright red and my amusement grew. He’d finally met a woman who first, wasn’t charmed by him, and second, wasn’t afraid to chew him up and spit him back out in pieces. I felt like letting Finn sit there and stew in it, but that wouldn’t accomplish much.

I thought Finn might have a point, too. Maybe Nicky wasn’t as smart and sweet and wonderful as everyone seemed to think he was.

I stood up and tapped Finn on the shoulder.

“Sir, Mrs. Bellington, we’ve taken enough of your time. We’ll be in touch if anything else comes up. Thank you for the coffee,” I said. “Annika, nice to see you again.”

The mayor and his wife nodded at me. Annika stood and wiped her eyes. “I’ll walk you guys to the door.”

She led us back down the long hallway.

“Do you think it’s true?” she whispered to me at the front door. “Would Nicky keep something like that from me?”

She looked so sad, and small, in her oversize sweats, that I felt my own eyes welling up.

“I don’t know, Annika. But I do know that you guys loved each other very much, and that’s what matters, doesn’t it? The love endures,” I said. I gave her a little pat on the shoulder and then followed Finn out the door.

“The love endures?” he snickered. “You’re a bad Hallmark card.”

“Yeah? And you’re a real piece of work… I wonder if you might be on to something, with the blackmail. Nicky seems a little too good to be true.”

Finn paused at his car. He licked his finger and rubbed at a spot of mud on the rear left light. “Say he did figure out who the Woodsman was. Would he really go to this guy and threaten him? Nicky may not have been perfect but I haven’t heard anything to lead me to think he was foolish. The blackmail angle is intriguing but it’s probably a dead end.”

Everywhere I turned in this case was a dead end, it seemed.

I decided to call it a day. The rain continued to fall, and in the wet, dim light, the streets were a foggy sea of red and yellow taillights and bobbing black shapes I could only assume were umbrellas. I wanted a warm bath and a mug of hot tea and my own oversize sweats, the pair that was so worn there were holes in the armpits and the elastic in the waist barely kept them up.

I drove slowly up the canyon, my windshield wipers rocketing back and forth. The wipers needed replacing and their worn rubber strips put cloudy streaks on the windowpane that left me craning my neck to and fro to peer around them.

When I pulled into the gravel drive, I saw a brown car parked by the side of the house, under our big pine tree. In the rain, I couldn’t see much beyond the color of the sedan, certainly not the plates or the occupants.

I sat in my car a moment, letting the engine idle, remembering Seamus’s strange behavior the night before, and the feeling that someone had been in the yard.

Finally I turned off the ignition, grabbed my things, and opened a newspaper over my head. I hurried to the front door and then turned and stared at the sedan, waiting. It looked like there were two people in the car, but I couldn’t be certain. Beyond the porch, the rain left the world as blurred as a wet watercolor.

After a minute, I decided to go inside, but then the driver side door opened and Tessa O’Leary tumbled out and ran to me. Her hair was soaked in a matter of seconds and she shook her head like a puppy under the front eave.

“Tessa? What are you doing here?” I asked. And how do you know where I live? I thought.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m really, really sorry I acted like that at the police station,” she said. She wore jeans and a thin T-shirt and she shivered. I sighed, knowing better but still saying, “Well, come in, you’ll catch your death out here.”