“So, why didn’t he arrest them and save us all this trouble?” Mom’s brow was furrowed, and a storm was brewing in her eyes. She got up and went to the coffeemaker, a reflex when she expected a long conversation.
Vi pulled herself together and summarized Mac’s investigation. Mac had followed leads that were on Sara’s computer. She’d been investigating Milo. When Milo came to town, Sara’s lawyer instincts kicked in, and she decided she should know more about this guy who was trying to change the town and was causing trouble between her and Gary. In researching Milo, she found the newspaper reports about Julia, and that led her to the older reports about Mike Jones. Joe and Cecile were big believers in psychic phenomena. Mac assumed that, when Sara had accused someone at the séance of being a murderer, they thought she knew more than she did.
“What a mess.” Mom put the coffeepot on the table with milk and sugar. “But why kill Tish?”
“I think I can answer that,” I said. “Tish knew all along that the Starks had been involved somehow. She either let it slip that she knew or . . .” I stopped, remembering Cecile hiding in the bushes while I told Tom that I was sure Tish knew something.
I put my head back in my hands. Cecile must have gone straight to Joe and told him Tish was a threat.
“Mac thinks that Milo told them he was on to them and why,” said Vi.
My head popped up and I looked at her.
“According to Mac, Milo had been very up-front with Cecile about what he was doing in town. He wanted to find the gun that killed his father and prove it was Joe who had pulled the trigger.” Vi stirred her coffee.
“But he never suspected that his mother was involved as well, because Tish never told him that part.” I finished the tale. Maybe it wasn’t what Cecile had overheard that caused Tish’s death, but it probably didn’t help.
I put my head down on the table, thinking about the mess we had made, and how I had put my family in danger.
Vi patted my arm. “You know, we were all in it together. We all wanted to catch the killer.”
*
Tuffy and Seth shuffled in looking for breakfast, and we were distracted by looking at Tuffy’s cast. We’d called Gary from the vet clinic the night before to get permission to treat his broken leg. When Gary heard how much it was going to cost, he offered to let me keep the dog. He admitted that he and Tuffy had never gotten along, and he was almost bankrupt from his gambling debts. Seth was now the proud owner of a shih tzu. Grace was not going to be thrilled. The vet said Tuffy would have to wear the cast for about a month and would need lots of care during that time. Seth had already become Tuffy’s servant, so not much had changed on that front. We all purposely avoided talking about Baxter.
The doorbell rang, but Tuffy didn’t have the energy to bark. He looked at Seth from underneath his messy fringe and sighed. I followed my mother out to the front hallway and caught a glimpse of Milo as she pulled the door open. He was standing next to a pretty blonde woman who could only be—
“Julia?” Mom said as she stood there gaping.
“I knew it!” Vi said from behind me.
While the ladies stood staring, I gestured for Milo and Julia to come in.
“Clyde, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Julia Wyatt.”
“She’s not dead?” Seth had come out of the kitchen to see what was going on.
“Seth!” Mom exclaimed.
Julia laughed. “No, I’m not dead.”
Mom hustled them into the living room and then headed off to the kitchen for more coffee. We sat and continued to stare at Julia. Milo reached over and took her hand, and she smiled.
“So, tell us!” Vi said, and rapped Mac’s cane on the floor.
Julia jumped and looked at Milo.
“Julia drove in from Chicago last night. We’re heading back tomorrow as long as I’m not needed at the police station,” Milo said.
Mom bustled in with a tray of coffee mugs and cookies.
“What did I miss?” she asked as she sat next to Vi on the loveseat.
“Not a thing, Rose,” Vi grumbled.
“Mac thought it would be a good idea for us to stop by and talk with you. He thought it would clear the air a bit.” Milo sipped his coffee and seemed to consider how to proceed. “I helped Julia run away right after high school. She was eighteen and legally an adult, but we wanted to be sure no one would look for her.” Milo glanced at Julia, who nodded. “Her father was a vicious drunk, and after Julia’s mother died, he drank even more.”
He squeezed Julia’s hand. She looked at her lap.
“I’m not going to go into detail, but she needed to get away from him before something truly terrible happened.”
I remembered all those times trying to “see” Julia that summer she disappeared. All I saw were bruises and tears, which must have been why she decided to run.