“It was on TV this morning. I didn’t do it. I swear.” I picked up the gun. “Where did you get this?” It was a .22
pistol.
“I stole it from my dad’s house. He has lots of guns.”
“I’ll take it with me.” I kept the shells in my hand, tucked the gun in my waistband.
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She shivered. “I don’t want it.” Her look was young and earnest.
“I won’t do that again. I’ll go to the church in the morning.” I looked around the cold kitchen, spotted a gas stove, found matches, lit the flame. “When did you last eat?” I moved to the refrigerator.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was dull.
I fried bacon and scrambled eggs with milk, seasoning salt, a half teaspoon of Worcestershire sauce, and a dash of brown sugar. I fixed toast and poured a glass of milk.
I placed the plate in front of her. She pushed the eggs with her fork, finally took a bite, then with a look of surprise and gratitude eagerly ate. “These eggs are good. I didn’t know I was so hungry.” I debated what to do, then made up my mind. “This won’t be the only visit you’ll have from the police.” Chief Cobb would be sure to explore what he’d learned from Anita.
Cynthia put down her fork, her young face once again frightened and vulnerable.
I chose my words carefully. “Don’t mention my visit here. We’ll pretend it didn’t happen. Tell them you wanted to see Daryl, so you went to his office last night, but he’d already left. Don’t say anything about the baby.”
Her eyes crinkled in puzzlement. “Why are you helping me?” Honest truth is sometimes best. “Because you are alone.” And lost. And frightened.
“All right.” Her eyes were luminous. “Thank you. I hope”—she looked anxious—“you don’t get in trouble.” I was already in trouble. Wiggins was likely despairing of me at this very moment. “Everything will work out.” That was surely the most positive of thinking. I had no reason to think anything would work out and I seemed to go from bad to worse when it came to meddling with Chief Cobb’s investigation. “There’s nothing you can do to help the police.” Officer Leland had stopped Daryl as he turned
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out of the lot, leaving Cynthia behind. Certainly he was alive and well then. “So it’s better not to say anything more than you have to.” She drank a gulp of milk. “All right.” I left her finishing her light supper, looking worn but at peace. I hoped I’d done the right thing to encourage her to refrain from telling the chief that she’d seen Daryl Thursday evening, but I couldn’t help wondering. She’d said her father’s house had many guns. Had I carried one of those guns to the Pritchard mausoleum for the police to find?
Once outside, I took my latest acquisition out of my pocket, disappeared, and wafted to the top of an old oak. I tucked the gun in the crook between a branch and the trunk, too far above ground to be noticeable. Then I zoomed down to the street, found a manhole cover, and dropped the shells inside.
Daylight was fading fast, the shadows deep and dark on Olive Street. I didn’t expect Walter Carey to slip into his former partner’s office until darkness fell, so I didn’t feel rushed. Instead of going directly to Murdoch Investments, I strolled toward Main.
I wasn’t surprised when I heard that rumble nearby. “Although becoming visible is never desirable, in some instances it is acceptable.” We moved along in silence, then a soft harrumph. “That dear girl.
Good work, Bailey Ruth.”
Wiggins left as quickly as he’d arrived.
I was smiling when I reached Main Street. I took a moment to look up and down. The Bijou marquee was dark and the front looked boarded over. The corner where our drugstore sat now advertised cornucopia tea shop, natural foods. What other kinds were there?
Then I saw the red neon of Lulu’s. In a flash, I arrived in the narrow entrance to the cafe. I suppose it was impulsive of me, but I hadn’t had a Lulu hamburger and fries in, well, it was a lifetime ago.
I was greeted by a delectable scent of hot grease.
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Every stool at the counter was occupied as well as the four booths.
Lulu’s hadn’t changed a whit in all these years and it was packing in the customers as offices and stores closed. A tall blond waitress and a lanky teenage boy served the counter and the booths. She was quick and efficient. He was more lackadaisical.
It took me only a moment to figure out the system. To-go orders in sacks were placed on a tray near the cash register to await pickup.
When the boy put down his order pad to fix a chocolate soda at the fountain, I tipped over a menu to cover the pad and quickly scrib-bled a to-go order for Myrna: cheeseburger with onions, mustard, and pickles, and fries. When everyone seemed occupied, I pinned the order up for the cook.
I wafted through a door marked employees, found the fuse box.
When my sack was ready, I peered closely at the menu, and almost let out a yelp when I saw the prices. How could a hamburger and fries cost four dollars and fifty cents! However . . . I imagined a five-dollar bill, a shocking sum, and hovered over the tray with the to-go orders.
When no one was near the cash register and everyone behind the counter was fully occupied, I took the check from the sack, slid it and the five-dollar bill slowly toward the cash register, then wafted to the fuse box and flipped a series of switches. The power went off. The cafe went dark and voices called out.
I felt my way out into the dining area. There was enough light coming through the plateglass window from streetlamps to make it easy to reach the front counter. I grabbed my sack and hurried to the front door. Unfortunately, since I’d had no need to open the door upon my arrival, I hadn’t realized a bell sounded.
