Beware False Profits Part 30

I was upright again, setting the basket farther against the wall, when I realized that I had retrieved and replaced Maura's key along with extra copies of our car and van keys, and keys to the house.

I fished out Maura's and turned it over in my hand. I was almost sure that the last time I had seen the familiar beaded elephant, it was making nice with my wallet at the bottom of my purse. Who had removed it and put it back in the basket? I was tired and confused, but I was almost sure. Two days ago I'd seen Maura's key as I rummaged for something at Chad's memorial service. And since then I hadn't felt well enough to play musical keys. Proof? The usual extras were here, but my own set of house and car keys was still upstairs in my purse.

I tried to bring details into better focus. I remembered searching for paper to write down Betsy's address. Maura's keys had been right there in my purse along with my own.

Odd.

I tried to imagine any reason why Ed would have removed Maura's key and put it here. Or one of my girls or Junie? This seemed like a small thing, but a small thing that made no sense.

My purse was upstairs. I had dropped it beside the bed when I came home from the doctor's office. I wondered if I was clearheaded enough for a trip up the steps. The change of scenery might be nice. I could get into my nightgown and under the covers. When she came home, Teddy could still tell me about her success. And while I was up there I could...what? Check to see if the key weighting my hand was a mirage? That I was imagining the whole thing?

Okay, I was sick. The medication was making my head spin. But there was only one explanation. I was wrong. Somewhere along the way I'd dropped Maura's key in the basket again, and I just didn't remember.

I would not go upstairs and check for the obvious. I would not.

I was on my way.

I gathered up all my supplies. The new box of tissues, the spring water, the Flow, so I would look as if I wanted to be educated and industrious, even if I was sound asleep.

I made the trip without incident and dropped everything at the foot of our bed. Then I sat on the edge and pulled my purse to my lap. Out went the wallet, the pack of tissues, the notepad and pen. Out went my keys.

A beaded elephant winked at me in the light of the bedside reading lamp.

I lifted it out and set it in the palm of my hand. Maura's, for sure. But this was not the key and keychain she had given me. There were three keys hanging to one side, one obviously a car key. And the elephant? Not red and blue, like the one downstairs in the basket, but red and green.

My head was swimming now. Why did I have two sets of keys to Maura's house? And why this second one with several different keys?

I had been to Maura's house, and used my key to let Tyler inside. I had hung around with my children and toured Maura's garden. Had I seen this keychain on a table or counter and thought I'd forgotten it? Then I'd put the right one in the basket when I got home, which left this one in my purse?

This seemed logical except for one thing. I didn't remember finding keys at Maura's. And I didn't think I would have mistaken this keychain for the one she had given me. The color was subtly different, yes. That I might have overlooked. But there were three keys here. Surely I would have noticed that.

I closed my eyes and smelled smoke. I saw flames leaping toward the sky. I felt myself stumble and nearly fall. My purse tumbled to the ground and the contents went flying.

My eyelids snapped open. "The food bank."

The three words brought on a coughing fit. When it subsided I tried to remember exactly what had happened the night of the fire. I stumbled while trying to keep up with Roussos. My purse had been unzipped, so everything went flying. Despite the darkness I found everything close by except Maura's keychain. At the time hadn't I felt lucky that I spotted it a short distance from everything else? I grabbed it in the dark and stuffed it in with my own keys.

And that was the last time I'd paid the slightest attention to it. I hadn't changed purses. I had left the keychain inside and never noticed the differences.

Maura had been at Helping Hands.

"When?"

Theoretically Maura could have lost her keys any time. She could have lost them at Mayday!, before or after. But unless she drove to the food bank with someone else, how could she have started her car and driven away? Did she routinely carry two sets of keys? Even so, wouldn't she have gone back and searched? The keys were lying on the ground in plain sight. I had seen them in the darkness.

And even if she had driven with someone else, wouldn't she have realized the keys were missing when she got home and tried to let herself in? I was fairly certain no key was hidden outside the Wagner house, because Tyler had waited patiently for me to open the door the day I took him home. He hadn't looked under a rock or checked the pockets of one of Maura's dolls.

Wouldn't she have found a way back across town to search for the keys?

The logical conclusion? Maura had been at the food bank on the night of the fire.

Although I found my rapidly evolving theory hard to accept, puzzle pieces began to fit together. Maura was at the food bank the night of the fire, and so was Chad, who died there. If I was right, twelve years ago Maura had given birth to Chad's child. I knew Maura was afraid Chad was after Joe's job, but what else was she afraid of? Chad telling Joe the truth about Tyler? Chad having some sort of hold over her? Perhaps one that was growing increasingly hard to placate?

The police were sure Chad set the fire in the office. But for some reason, he hadn't been able to get out in time. Had Maura engineered that? How?

I had more questions than working brain cells. Maybe Maura knocked him out and he hadn't come to in time to escape? Seemed hard to believe. Chad was a large, healthy male, and Maura played the helpless little female to the hilt. But lately, hadn't I begun to suspect there was more to my new friend than met the eye? I'd seen the stronger woman emerging in a positive light, but could I have been wrong?

What about Hazel? The motive there seemed obvious. Hazel and Joe didn't see eye to eye. If Chad was a threat to Joe's job, Hazel, the board chair, was a bigger one. Maura loved her life in Emerald Springs. She loved being the spoiled wife of an esteemed community leader. She loved her house and garden and the hours she devoted to both. Emerald Springs was a small town with limited job opportunities. If Joe lost his job, most likely they would have to move away.

And finally, what about Joe? Had he confronted Maura about Chad? Had she poisoned Joe so she could stay in Emerald Springs without him, the respected widow of a murdered man? Still, if that was the case, why was she so determined not to tell the police Joe was missing? Was she waiting for the body to decompose so when they found him, they would find no trace of poison?

When it came right down to it, how would Maura know how to poison anyone?

My theory was elaborate. My headache was more elaborate. I really couldn't tell if I was making sense. I needed somebody to listen and tell me if I needed a nap or an immediate trip to either the police station or emergency room.

I dialed Lucy, and this time got her voice mail. I asked her to call me back immediately and hung up. I thought about calling my sisters, but there was too much to explain to catch them up to speed.

Just one more detail. One more clue, and I could call Roussos again. The key just wasn't enough. I had no proof Maura had dropped it the night of the fire, and not a bit of proof she was there when the fire actually started. I didn't want to alienate Roussos to the point that he no longer took my calls.

I crawled under the covers and kicked everything at the foot of the bed to Ed's side. When Ed got home I would show him my discovery. And I would tell him everything else. Ed was the soul of logic. Either he would tell me to stay off the cough medicine, or he would help me figure out what to do next.

I closed my eyes and saw roses. Big, dinner plate roses in cl.u.s.ters at the county fair. Roses in perfect health because they had been tended so lovingly. Maura's roses, fed with compost and ground-up bones, dusted with dried blood, protected by fox urine and homemade sprays made from botanical combinations. Maura, the organic gardener with a strong stomach.

Nicotine was an organic substance. What had Roussos said about it being a banned pesticide? Could it still be made at home? Was it as simple as buying a pack of cigarettes and soaking them in water? Hadn't Roussos said the pesticide had been used to kill aphids?

I knew enough about roses to know that aphids were a chronic problem.

One more clue, I had told myself. Now I sat up and dialed the police station. Knowing the nonemergency number by heart? That was almost more frightening than what I had to tell.

When the dispatcher answered I explained who I was and what I wanted, but this time I wasn't lucky. Roussos was gone, and she put me through to his voice mail.

I recorded what I had discovered since I'd last spoken to him and added my theories. Then I asked him to call me when he got the message.

I had done my duty. More than my duty. Maybe I had done enough to move the investigation in the right direction. And maybe Maura had an alibi as solid and polished as her pineapple door knocker. I really hoped so. But if she didn't, if she'd been involved in all these events, then I wanted Roussos to grab her and shake the truth about Joe out of her.

For now, whether he did or didn't, I was finished.

I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion I'd been fighting claim me. My house was locked tight; my family would be home soon. I was safe...

"Holy Nirvana." I sat up so fast the room did a little dance.

I had two sets of Maura's keys, yes. But I had forgotten something just as important.

Maura had mine.

I had no reason to think Maura could read my mind. How would she know I suspected she had joined the Emerald Springs Sociopaths Society? Yet, if anything I was coming to believe about her was true, Maura was smarter than any of us had given her credit for. And far more dangerous.

I was not safe in my own house.

I tried to think where I could go. Our neighbors are old, and I didn't want to share my virus with them. I could probably get myself to the church, but Ed had his keys with him so I couldn't get in unless January happened to be there.

I decided on our car. I could go outside in my nightgown with my pillow and an afghan, drive to a nearby street and lock myself in, then wait until my family came home.

Okay, I would never hear the end of it. But did I care?

Not so much.

All those summers with my survivalist father? The one lesson that had never changed from year to year?

Run.

I got to my feet just fast enough to be sure I didn't swoon and went to the closet for slip-on sneakers. Okay, no fas.h.i.+on statement with my nightgown, but I was going to tough that out.

I slid them on my feet and grabbed my peach chenille robe off the back of the closet door. I closed it and turned.

"Not exactly a match with those shoes," Maura said from the doorway.

I squealed. I probably would have anyway, even if I hadn't known what I did about her.

"I'm sorry. Did I surprise you?" Maura was dressed more casually than I ever remembered seeing her. Pale denim jeans, sneakers adorned with only a sprinkling of rhinestones and sequins, and a soft gray camp s.h.i.+rt with an appliqued kitten curled on a pocket. She entered the room and stood at the foot of our bed.

I knew my best chance was to lie. And to do it quickly and flawlessly. I put my hand to my chest as if to check my heartbeat-that part, at least, was real.

"Well, yeah, you did. I bet Ed called you, didn't he? He wanted you to check on me. He's such a worrier." I stood perfectly still. I knew the moment I edged away from her, this game was up.

The game was up anyway. She shook her head, as if she was about to tell me that the PTA president wanted somebody else to chair the next book sale.

"Just so you know," she said. "I thought a lot about this. I wasn't sure you would put the pieces together. And even if you did, I wasn't sure you had enough proof to convince anybody. In the end though, when it came right down to it, you had my keys. And I was pretty sure that the minute you realized it, you would remember where and when you got them."

I tried to sound puzzled. "I don't know what you're talking about. Dropping keys isn't a crime."

"Aggie, you're like a cat with a mouse. You shake it and worry it until it's all played out. Then you leap. You've been shaking and worrying, and I realized the leap was coming. I really hate to do this, but you know, once you're on a roll? Killing people's not as hard as you think."

My gaze darted around the room looking for something to use as a weapon. I was bigger than Maura, although not by much. She looked soft and feminine, not anyone's concept of a bodybuilder. But I was dizzy, and all that childhood training wasn't going to help as much as it should. Not when the room kept spinning and spinning.

"I've already called Detective Roussos," I said. "I told him everything I figured out."

"Did you? And why would I believe that? You never pushed me to go to the police about Joseph. I would be so surprised if you went to them yourself. Not until you had everything you needed to convince that hot detective you're a super sleuth."

There was nothing in reach that would help me. The lamp was plugged behind the bed, and I thought if I grabbed it, I'd probably bring the mattress with it. There was a framed watercolor on the wall to my right that one of our paris.h.i.+oners had painted, but instead of gla.s.s, the framer had used acrylic. I couldn't shatter it over Maura's head. It would bounce. Our botanical prints had no gla.s.s at all.

I edged away from her, toward the dresser closest to the door. I had a hand mirror on the dresser. It was my best bet.

"So, if you're going to try to kill me, you might as well tell me how I fit into your murder sc.r.a.pbook. I'm pretty sure you killed Hazel. I'm guessing some kind of nicotine solution, like something you make yourself to put on your roses?"

"Nothing that diluted. Nicotine sulfate. Last year one of the ladies in the rose society was moving into a.s.sisted living, so she cleared out her garden shed. She gave me a jar because I'd had so much trouble with aphids. She's been h.o.a.rding it since it was outlawed. Wasn't that convenient?"

Not for Hazel. I edged a little closer to the dresser and talked, hoping to keep her from noticing.

"How did you get Hazel to swallow the stuff? Didn't it taste like an ashtray?"

"Oh, that's the beauty of nicotine. It can also be absorbed through the skin. It said so, right on the label. I'd seen Hazel at Cilla's desk a couple of times, pouring over Joseph's records. Her hands were always so chapped and rough, and Cilla keeps her favorite jasmine-scented hand lotion there. Hazel would slather it on it like she owned the bottle. So Friday night I dissolved some of my treasure in an identical bottle and replaced Cilla's. The smell of the lotion is so strong, Hazel probably thought the tobacco odor was coming from her own hands. She smoked, you know. Every chance she got. Anyway, I knew Hazel would be in the office before the fair, because she was trying so hard to trap Joseph. She was so stupid, she thought he was the one fencing all that food."

"Wasn't that taking an awfully big chance? I mean, what if Cilla had gone in over the weekend and used the lotion herself?"

"Gosh, wouldn't that have been a shame?" Maura gave a humorless laugh. "That cow wants my husband. That would have been one way to deal with her."

I winced. "I guess your plan worked, huh?"

"I knew it would. Hazel had an extra incentive for visiting Joseph's office. Where do you think they were keeping the chocolate for the chocolate fountain? Hazel knew it was right there. So my idea was foolproof. I knew she'd lock herself inside, gorge on chocolate, look through records, and slather on the hand lotion. Wasn't she predictable?"

"And you replaced the lotion afterwards?"

"Easy as pie. I have Joseph's keys. I did it before Hazel keeled over. As simple as switching bottles at Mayday! when n.o.body was in the office but me."

"And you did this why? You knew Joe didn't have anything to do with stealing supplies. Hazel was no threat."

"You know, that's not going to help you, that mirror, I mean. Do you realize how pale you are? You look like you're going to fall over without my help. I saw Ed at the pharmacy this afternoon. He told me the doctor said you were one step from pneumonia. Right before he told me you'd be home alone this evening. I called to be sure they'd gone." She took a step toward me.

I held up my hands to ward her off. "Don't kid yourself, Maura. I may be sick, but I'll put up one h.e.l.l of a fight."

"All that gardening makes me strong. You'll be surprised."

I was feeling worse by the second. "Why did you kill Hazel?"

"Because Joseph didn't want to fight her anymore. He told me he wanted out of the food bank and away from the stress. He thought maybe if we moved somewhere else we could start over as a family, too. Find more common ground." She laughed almost fondly. "We had everything right here. I don't know what got into him."

"You didn't want to leave? So killing Hazel seemed easier?"

"Safer, I'd say. Without Hazel, Joseph would be happy again. Things would be perfect, the way they used to be."

"Oh, right, perfect. With you pa.s.sing off another man's child as his?"

She lifted one elegantly shaped brow. "You must have seen that photo before I got rid of it. I hope by the time Tyler's a grown-up n.o.body remembers what Chad looked like. That nasty old resemblance. Another good reason to kill him."

She was discussing this with the same lack of pa.s.sion as if we were discussing china patterns. That was another good reason to go with the gold rims instead of the silver bands.

"Another?" I asked.

"We had a brief affair. Nothing important. But Chad's been asking me for favors ever since he realized Tyler was his. First, I had to persuade Joseph to hire him. Then Chad wanted to know Joseph's schedule every minute, so he could take advantage of it. I had to keep Joseph busy if Chad planned something that was going to take extra time, and I was always supposed to report back to Chad if Joseph got suspicious."

I was almost close enough now to grab the mirror. "The police are sure Chad set that fire."

"Oh, he did. When he realized he'd been caught, he decided to burn the records and leave town. But I knew that whether he was here or somewhere else, he would be after me for the rest of my life. So when I realized what he was planning, I waited. And while he set his little fire in the office, I set a bigger one in the rest of the warehouse. It was so easy to do. They kept gasoline in cans for their equipment. Plenty of fuel for a real bonfire. And you know what? I waited until Chad came out of his office, so he would die knowing it was me, then I lit one match. No more blackmail."

She shook her head as I grabbed the mirror. "What do you think? That I'm some kind of vampire? You hold that up and I'll shrivel at my own reflection?"

I whacked it against the top of the dresser and when it shattered, I grabbed the largest piece, slicing my thumb in the process. "Don't come any closer, Maura."