Seth stood and uncoiled the chain, allowing the crystal to swing free. He steadied it and hung it over the center of the paper. The room seemed to hold its breath. We all jumped when Tuffy let out a sharp yip.
Seth’s pendulum began to swing from the jerking of his arm.
Vi looked at Tuffy, who was shivering again now that Seth had set him on the floor. “You’re fine. This won’t take long,” she said to the dog.
Seth stopped the swinging crystal and held it over the paper again.
When it was still he said, “Did Gary kill Sara?”
The pendulum didn’t move. We waited. These things took time. After several minutes, my father eased his chair away from the table and snuck off to the living room to read the paper and listen to his police scanner. After a few more minutes, Seth lowered his elbow onto the table.
Tuffy began a low growl but wagged his tail when Seth turned to look at him.
“There’s something wrong. Ask again,” said Vi.
“Did Gary kill Sara?” Seth asked, louder this time, as if the pendulum were hard of hearing.
At last, it moved. We all leaned forward to watch. It was subtle but clear. It swung back and forth about an eighth of an inch along the NO axis.
“That can’t be right. I’ll do it,” said Vi as she grabbed the pendulum from Seth.
They wiped down the crystal with the velvet, and Vi took her turn. She got results within seconds. YES. We all decided on a tiebreaker. My best friend, Alex the traitor, voted against me, and I was chosen to hold the chain. My mother hadn’t looked so proud since I had predicted old Mrs. Dunhill’s death. She had been ninety.
I held the crystal and felt it get warm in my hand, then hung it over the paper and stopped its movement.
“Did Gary kill Sara?” I asked.
The chain was warm in my fingers. I focused on keeping my hand as still as possible. I felt a muscle twitch, and the chain started swinging. NO.
Vi grabbed the pendulum from me and thrust it at my mother.
“You do it. You’re the only one who really knows how. You’ll be the final say,” she said.
“But that was . . . ,” Alex started. I shook my head in warning. He caught on and sat back.
My mother went through the whole process again. Her answer: NO.
“Clyde, you have to talk to Mac,” Mom said.
“What? Why?”
“It’s obvious. The pendulum says it’s not Gary.” Mom gestured at the small piece of crystal. “Mac needs to know he has the wrong man in custody.”
Alex grabbed his wine and took a giant gulp.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Mom. Mac doesn’t believe in any of this. He won’t care what the pendulum has to say.”
“But be sure he knows to look for someone who buys bacon,” Vi added.
Mom nodded solemnly in her direction.
“It’s practically impeding an investigation if we don’t tell him, Clyde.” Mom offered Alex more wine, and he held out his glass.
“We could all be arrested!” Vi said.
“Arrested? Who will take care of Tuffy?” Seth held Tuffy tighter on his lap.
“No one is going to be arrested,” I said to Seth. “Fine, I’ll talk to Mac.” I had no idea how I was going to pull this off, but Mac would be easier to deal with than these two.
“So can we keep Tuffy?” asked Seth. We turned to look at him and the ball of fur that was our only witness to Sara’s murder.
11
Wednesday morning started early for me. Tuffy woke up Seth with the sun and began whining to go out. After they crashed through the house and came back up the stairs, I was fully awake with no hope of going back to sleep. I got out of bed and went to my computer. I really wanted some coffee but didn’t want to risk going downstairs and meeting my mother in the kitchen. She was a morning person. I was a night person. Just one more thing we had to argue over.
I checked my e-mail to discover that several friends were demanding I drive to Ann Arbor for a party that weekend. Not likely.
A message from a friend in the department said they were still investigating the last case I had worked. I skimmed the details, not really wanting to know. They weren’t going to find anything that would fix what had happened. The decision about my police career would have to wait. I shut the laptop and decided to risk the coffee run.
I crept downstairs, avoiding the creaky fifth step, and peered around the wall into the dining room. No sign of anyone. I didn’t hear any noise from Vi’s end of the house, but she hadn’t seen six a.m. in decades. I made it through the dining room and into the kitchen without incident. There was already coffee in the pot, which meant Mom was up, but where?
I quickly grabbed a mug and poured a cup, liberally adding milk and sugar. I was just starting to rummage for some cereal when I sensed a shift in the room. I turned, but no one was there.