One Fool At Least (The Madeline Mann Mysteries) Page 13

  Pat sat down on the couch and pulled Libby into his lap. She laughed, then stroked his face in an intimate gesture. Normally I would have been uncomfortable, but because of our worry, I was almost hungry to see more.

  Pat tore his eyes away from his wife and looked at us. “We need to talk, though. After dinner. I’ll send Molly and Slider out on the porch so they can kiss like they’ve been dying to do all day.”

  “And Mike?” I asked.

  “Mike needs to stay,” Pat said simply. In an instant his expression and Libby’s had turned serious. Ah, I thought. Much would be explained at this meeting. I remembered Mike’s obvious discomfort whenever Slider was mentioned.

  I looked at Jack, but he was still grinning at his brother in obvious relief.

  “So you did go to see Finn Flanagan?” I asked, sensing that it was okay to do so now.

  “Yes, I did,” Libby said. “And I told him that I was going to kill him.” She stood up and walked back into the kitchen.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite Libby's provocative comment, we were forced to curb our curiosity all through dinner, because the children appeared and Libby clammed up immediately. We ate as though nothing were hanging over us, with lots of chatter and laughter, although I sensed an edge of hysteria beneath all of our high spirits. Pat seemed especially cheerful in his relief, and he couldn’t seem to keep from touching Libby; his hand rested on hers while they chatted, and he would occasionally reach up and stroke her hair. At one point I saw Molly make eye contact with her brother and roll her eyes, but they were both smiling.

  There was so much heat between Libby and Pat that by the end of dinner I was starting to smolder myself. I was beginning to wish Jack and I were going back to our big white bed instead of downtown to Finn Flanagan’s apartment.

  As promised, Pat sent Molly and Slider away. Mike started to wheel himself toward the back room. “Mike,” Libby said. “You need to be here.”

  He turned his head, his mouth open in surprise. When he saw his mother’s expression, he paled. His freckles became more noticeable, like scars on his skin.

  Libby looked away first, and sat down in a chair. “Everyone sit down,” she said. “I should have told you all this long ago. I only just told Pat, and I’m sorry, baby.”

  Pat came and perched on the arm of her chair, slinging a protective arm around her. “It’s okay.”

  Jack wheeled Mike in close, and we sat near him on the couch, across from Libby. We were all waiting now, and Libby understood.

  “I didn’t know Finn that well,” she said. “But we used to talk and joke with him in the bar or the restaurant. He and Pat both liked cigars, and sometimes Pat would join him in the back room and they’d smoke one together. That was about it. But things changed after the accident.”

  Mike’s head came up sharply. “My accident?” he said.

  Libby nodded, still not looking at him. “Finn was spending a lot of time with Slider. The two of them had found out they were brothers, and they were becoming very close. Once I went to the restaurant with Molly for lunch. We were still recovering really, from the shock of Mike’s crash, and we were taking a quick break before we went back to see Mike in the hospital. Molly saw Slider outside the bar and ran out to talk to him. Finn came and sat in my booth.”

  She wiped at her eyes, and Pat pulled his arm more tightly around her. “He said it was funny about the accident, how Mike lost control and Slider happened to be right there.”

  I stole a glance at Mike. He was still as a carving.

  “I said I didn’t know what he meant. He was sort of laughing. I was getting uncomfortable. Then he said, maybe the wrong boy ended up in the hospital.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” asked Jack, obviously feeling defensive.

  Libby made an effort, and went on, her eyes on her lap. “Finn said, if Mike had gotten his way, maybe it would be Slider laid up in there.”

  There was silence while we all digested this. The tension was palpable.

  “He was suggesting that Mike was trying to run down Slider with his car?” I asked finally, in disbelief.

  Libby nodded. “I didn’t really catch on that day. I just felt he was being particularly insensitive. Here my son was lying in that hospital bed—” She cleared her throat. “I thought maybe he was drunk, although he had told Pat he never drank at his own bar. I couldn’t fathom why he would say something like that about my boy.”

  “Because it’s true.” Mike was as pale as he could get. Even his lips were pale. “It’s true, that’s why.”

  Pat looked at his son, his expression a mixture of surprise, dismay, and pride. “Tell us, Michael,” he said.

  Mike, like his mother, was staring at his lap. “Molly and me, we’ve always been close. We’re twins, right? I can practically read her mind. When she took up with Slider, I could tell she was falling for him too fast. She’s only sixteen years old.” He glared around the room, briefly meeting everyone’s eyes but Libby’s. “I told her I wanted her to take things easy with him, but she’s too romantic. She thought he was the answer to love’s young dream, as Dad would say. I didn’t know if I trusted him. And I know Dad wasn’t thrilled about him, either.”

  He looked to his father for support. Pat shook his head. “No, I wasn’t thrilled,” he admitted.

  Mike looked at his father for a moment, as though drawing strength from him. “The night it happened, I was at a party that Tate Miller was having. It was just outside Grand Blue, at Tate’s house. Slider and Molly were there, but Slider left. He told Molly he was going to walk back to Finn’s place and stay there. It was closer than home, and he didn’t like going home anyway, because of his crazy old man. So he kissed Molly goodnight, and—he left.”

  Mike was concentrating hard. The room was still and suddenly stuffy. I felt a strong desire to fan myself.

  Mike took a breath and continued, but not before he stole a look at his mother. “I have to confess right now—they had beer at the party. I’d had too much to drink, too, although I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time. I was getting ready to leave when I heard Molly talking to Faye Roberts.” He turned to Jack and me. “That’s like her best friend,” he said. “She told Faye that Slider had—”

  His voice broke slightly, and he took a moment to compose himself. “—that they’d had sex. That Molly had lost her virginity to him.”

  Pat and Libby’s faces were blank, but I was betting this was news to them.

  “They were in Finn’s apartment when they did it. My little sister. I was born first, and I’ve always protected her. The way I saw it, he seduced her. And Finn helped. He’s way older, even Slider’s older, and he’s a guy, and he had no right.”

  A tear ran down his face, a tear of anger or perhaps regret. He wiped at it halfheartedly. “It’s hard to explain now. I can’t really understand what I felt then. I was so mad, just so mad. I felt like he took something from her, something she could never get back. And maybe I was jealous, too. She spent all her time with him. It wasn’t the same, I knew it would never be the same.”

  He sighed. Libby’s eyes were moist as she turned them on her son. “I got in the car. Molly was spending the night with Faye. I knew the route Slider would take back to Grand Blue, and I drove there. I didn’t think about it much, I just knew I wanted to kill him.”

  “Oh, Mike,” Pat said.

  “Dad, I regret it now. I feel rotten every time I look at Slider. I saw him on the road, I saw the silhouette of his stupid hair.” Mike half smiled, despite the tears in his eyes. “I drove right at him. I wanted to run him down. I was still pretty far away when I hit a patch of ice. It was snowing, and the ice was hidden beneath it, and I was going too fast on top of it. I started doing a donut, like the way you lose control in a bad dream. That’s really all I remember. I think I do remember Slider’s face, when he pulled me out.”

  The room was silent. Mike made a ghastly attempt at a laugh. “So not only did I get what I deserved, bu
t Slider has added to the punishment by being this really great friend to me. He saved my life. He’s been spending time with me, not just with Molly, but with me, hanging out, telling jokes. I know why Molly loves him, and it’s because he’s a good person. He would never suspect what I’d been up to, he’d never think I had murder in my mind. But Finn would,” he added, nodding. “Finn had a devious mind.”

  Libby made a sound of affirmation. She wasn’t ready to talk yet about what Mike had done, but she could still talk about Finn. “That night I met with him, he had told me that afternoon that he wanted me to come. He said he knew something about Mike. That if I didn’t want him to tell Slider, or the police, I should come and hear what he had to say.”

  Jack shook his head angrily. “The guy was manipulating you in the worst way, Libby.”

  Libby nodded. “And it wasn’t because of his concern for Slider, at least not entirely. He never mentioned these suspicions to Slider. He said he liked saying things to me because he liked to see me blush, he liked to see me get upset.” Libby’s face had grown very red. “Apparently he got some sort of thrill from it all, and that’s what he was looking for that night. I didn’t know it. I just knew that if he was threatening Mike, or planning on making allegations about Mike, it would affect Mike’s recovery. I went there ready to strangle him if he planned to do anything to keep my boy from getting better.”

  Pat squeezed her shoulders, looking at all of us, willing us to understand.

  “Did he make a pass at you?” I asked.

  Libby looked uncertainly at Pat. I was guessing she hadn’t discussed this part with him. “Sort of,” she said.

  “What?” Pat asked.

  “He was always hitting on women. I think it was how he maintained self-esteem, because lots of women responded well to it.” She turned to Pat. “But not your wife, and not your daughter.”

  “My daughter?”

  Libby sighed. “She’s a beautiful girl. I’ve seen the way men in town look at her. Finn was one of the few who made it apparent. He used to say things to her, before he knew about Slider. Then he was content to let her be Slider’s girl.”

  Pat shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t think I want to know. What did Finn do to you?”

  “I handled it, Pat. The minute I realized he didn’t really intend to harm Mike, I got my confidence back. He sort of tried to pin me to the wall—”

  “What?” Mike and Pat said in unison.

  “He was trying to kiss me.” Libby said it absently, as though it didn’t matter. “I would have kneed him right in the groin, but then he got a phone call. He smiled at me, and turned to go to his desk. I made my way out of there pretty quick. When I left, there were still a few stragglers out in the bar, and the night bartender was washing some glasses.”

  I thought about what she’d just said. “You said he got a phone call. Did you hear anything he said?”

  Libby frowned for a moment, thinking back. “I think he said something about family. Like “I suppose that makes you family, but it doesn’t make you a friend,” or something like that. I don’t know. I really wasn’t paying attention.”

  The room was silent. Mike sat looking at his lap, rather miserably. He had some of his color back, though. Apparently confession had been good for his soul, because he’d lost that look in his eye, that lost and confused look I’d seen so often since we’d arrived. Finally he sat up straighter and said, “Dad, can you take me into town? I guess I should tell this story to Chief Hendricks.”

  Pat stared at him. “What story?”

  “About Slider. About what I did. I guess they’ll want to—arrest me or something.”

  We all thought about that for a minute. Jack said, “Mike, you’ve been through a severe accident that left you injured. You yourself said you were drinking that night. So we really have no proof that you intended to hurt Slider. Even your own memory isn’t reliable, because you don’t remember the accident. For all you know, you tried to turn at the last minute.”

  Mike stared at him. “I know what I felt.”

  “Feeling isn’t doing,” I said. “No one was hurt but you. Don’t you think you’ve paid for whatever murderous thoughts you were having?”

  Mike shrugged. “I’ve made other people suffer. My family. My mom, especially. I’ve got a lot on my conscience.”

  “So go to confession,” I said. “There’s no need to tell the police about a crime that didn’t happen.”

  Libby rose from her chair and knelt in front of Mike until he looked at her. “We both should have come clean, Mikey,” she said softly. “We should have confided in each other. You should have told me, all those times we sat in the hospital, and Molly should have told me, too. About her and Slider. And I should have told all of you that Finn was trying to threaten us. But we can put it all behind us now. We can concentrate on what is. On you getting better, and getting through your physical therapy. I think you’ll do better now, with this off your chest.”

  Mike’s blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said.

  I grabbed my crutches and stood up. “We’re going to leave you alone now.”

  Jack helped me edge out of the room. I peered over my shoulder in the doorway. Mike, Pat and Libby were sharing a hug, in spite of the wheelchair.

  * * *

  Out on the porch Molly and Slider were, indeed, kissing, but in a surprisingly sweet way. They weren’t mauling each other, but holding each other’s faces and exchanging lots of eye contact in between kisses.

  “Slider,” Jack said.

  “Huh?” he responded, jumping up from the swing.

  “Maddy and I will go check out the apartment. Can you give us the key?”

  “Sure.” Slider dug into the pocket of his jeans.

  “You’re certain that no one will be up there?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It’s Finn’s place. I overheard his brother say he didn’t want it; once it’s cleaned out they’ll probably rent it or something. His brother already has an apartment, a nice one, and his sister and her husband have a house about half hour from here. They just moved from Helena this year; the sister lost her job, so she came to work in the bar.”

  “So who’s been cleaning it out?”

  Slider shrugged. “Both of them, taking turns, I guess. But they never do it at night. They’re busy with the bar at night now. You can get in to the apartment through a back way, so no one will even see you. I appreciate this.”

  “What does the diary look like?” I asked.

  “It’s about this big.” Slider held his hands to the approximate dimensions, maybe five by seven. “The cover is made of tin. I always thought it was really cool. I asked what was in it, and he said ‘dreams’. I figured he had ideas for the restaurant in it, stuff like that.”

  “Right,” I said. “Thanks.”

  Jack and I made our way back to the Jeep. We hopped in, and I slid toward Jack. “Pat and Libby are more like newlyweds than we are. I say we have a contest.”

  He laughed, his hands shaping my hair. “You sure you want to do this? We can go back to our place and do something else. Four times, the way you like it.”

  “Very funny. And can’t we do both?”

  “Hmmph,” he said, and drove toward the road.

  * *

  Finn’s apartment was above the bar; in the darkness we spotted the staircase that connected it with ground level. “Lots of stairs,” I whispered.

  “I’ll take your crutches,” Jack said. “You’ll be better off holding the rail and hopping. Just land quietly,” he said, his eyes darting toward the corner of the building.

  We were parked on a road behind the bar rather than in the front parking lot. Even patrons wouldn’t be wandering back here. It was very dark and lonely behind Flanagan’s, although we caught a slight glow from the neon sign on the front.

  Jack went first; he waited for me at the top with my crutches, and I took my time, keeping the weight off my foot. It was warmer tonight, but a
gentle breeze cooled me as I huffed and puffed my way up. I reached Jack with a triumphant smile. He caught me to him and kissed me quickly. “Try the key,” I said.

  Jack had the door open in a moment, and we slipped inside. He closed the blinds on the back window before he turned on the light. “Hopefully no one would notice any cracks of light,” he said softly. “We don’t intend to be here long, right?”

  “Right,” I said. I glanced around the apartment. It would be a cozy space, filled with the right furniture and accessories. A little kitchen, in which we were standing, then a fairly large main room, with generous front picture windows. He would have had an amazing view of The Felines. I could barely see anything now, just the hint of a darkness against darkness.

  “I’ll take the bedroom,” Jack said. “Why don’t you look around in here?” He gestured to the kitchen. “It looks mostly empty, so it should be the easiest to search.”

  I nodded. He disappeared into the dark hallway.

  The kitchen had little appliances; a tiny stove flanked by a counter and a refrigerator, a little table and bench that sat flush with the wall, another table with a microwave on top and several drawers beneath. I searched the cabinets; for the most part they were empty, except for the occasional dish or utensil that had obviously been rejected. I felt along the top and sides of each one, and they yielded nothing. I looked inside the refrigerator, which had been turned off. I hunted through the drawers beneath the microwave, then looked inside it. I felt under the table and behind the stove as far as I could reach. I saw a broom in one corner. I crouched awkwardly, leaning against the stove, and pushed the broom handle underneath, then pulled it out. I unearthed significant amounts of dust, as well as a pad of post-it notes and two refrigerator magnets. One of them was a clip magnet, which had a phone number written on it. Below was a note someone had scrawled—Finn, I assumed—that said, “Discuss Daddy’s windfall.” I took this and stuck it in my pocket. I attached the magnets to the refrigerator, where a few others already sat, holding nothing, looking lonely.

  A sudden crash, outrageously loud, had me jolting upright, my heart slamming around in my chest. Jack appeared at my side. “Let’s go,” he breathed, and we headed for the door. I wasn’t about to ask questions when I was still on the verge of heart failure.