Girls . . . They can drive you crazy. They really can.
—J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
INSIDE OUR SHADOWY Community Events space, I hung up my coat and flipped on the lights.
The large room felt drafty, and the ghost was no help, given his penchant for lowering temperatures. Even without his paranormal activity, it seemed a cold place to discuss family business.
You’re standing in a family business, sister. Why not discuss it here?
Stay out of this, Jack. I mean it.
I pointed to the circle of chairs set up for Monday’s Quibblers meeting, but Brainert waved me off, preferring to stand. The kids followed his lead.
“All right,” I commanded. “Start from the beginning.”
“Amy showed up at Dr. Ridgeway’s graveside ceremony,” Brainert began. “She was obviously alone, and after the service, I approached her. When I asked how she managed to get herself all the way to Quindicott from Boston, Amy pointed to your son, who was lurking among the gravestones like some romantic lead in a Gothic novel.”
I frowned at Spencer and his eyes dropped.
Once again, Amy came to his defense. “It really is my fault, Mrs. McClure. I wouldn’t want Spencer to get into trouble on my account.”
“It’s okay,” Spencer told her. “My mom has a right to feel upset.”
The maturity of my son’s statement floored me. Was it Amy’s influence? The idea unsettled me—though I couldn’t think why.
Really? Jack guffawed. I can!
I told you to stay out of this.
I’m in it, sweetheart, whether you like it or not. I’ve got a front row seat to your little family drama, and I say give the little nipper a break. Your boy wouldn’t be the first gullible guy to get tangled in a femme fatale’s web.
Oh, Jack, you don’t understand! This is about truancy, disobedience, taking unnecessary risks—and this little girl is hardly a femme fatale!
Amy spoke up. “Spencer thought it was dangerous for me to travel from Boston alone. That’s the reason he came along. Please don’t punish him because of something I did.”
Listen to Shirley Temple. Why should a guy who gave a dame some assist end up in hot water for it? It just ain’t right.
What Spencer did was risky and stupid. He should have called me first.
Why? So you could say no? In case you haven’t noticed, doll, the kid’s way out of the cradle. Five will get you ten he would have done it anyway.
Then he would have been in double trouble!
See what I mean? Jack replied. You just don’t get it.
Get what?
Your boy did the right thing. He put himself in hot water to help out a friend. Most of these corny novels you hawk would cast your kid as the hero, not the heavy.
This back-and-forth was getting me nowhere. I couldn’t argue with Jack and my son at the same time!
“Mom? Are you okay?” Spencer touched my arm.
I blinked to find my son, Amy, and Brainert all staring at me.
“You zoned out on us.”
I cleared my throat. “We’ll talk about your behavior later. Right now, I want you to take Amy upstairs. She can spend the night with us. Get her something to drink. There are cookies in the jar, but don’t eat too many. I’ll make dinner after I speak with Dr. Parker—”
“Yes!” Spencer whooped with excitement and faced the girl. “Since you’re staying with us, you can try my all-time favorite multiplayer game. And you can meet Bookmark. She’s a really cool cat. Last week she caught a mouse right here in the store!”
I cringed. This was not something I wanted my customers to know. Bonnie Franzetti, our cashier (and Eddie’s younger sister), was the sole witness to the rodenticide, and I could trust her to keep a secret. I’d have to advise Spencer to do the same!
Meanwhile, Amy’s eyes went wide. “You have a cat! What kind? My mother won’t allow pets, but I love cats, Persians and Siamese, and—”
“Ah, Bookmark is just a regular little marmalade-striped cat, but she’s a real badass—”
“Spencer! What did I tell you about using that language?”
“Sorry, Mom.”
The kid’s right. That killer kitty really is a bad—
Don’t say it! I warned.
“It’s okay, Mom, I won’t,” Spencer promised.
Did I say that out loud?
Spencer didn’t appear to care. After he and his curly-haired VIP guest raced upstairs, I faced Brainert. “I assume you know what’s behind all this?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “A bad marriage.”
With that, his energy appeared to flag. He wandered over to the circle of chairs and sat down. As I joined him, he told me that Dr. Kevin Ridgeway, his colleague and friend, had died in a traffic accident less than a week ago. This I knew because the local paper covered the accident. What I didn’t know was that a former Mrs. Ridgeway existed, along with an only child, Amy.
When Ridgeway was killed, Amy was already studying at the same computer seminar as Spencer. Unless she had adult supervision, she wasn’t permitted to leave the Boston University campus.
“Not even for her father’s funeral? That doesn’t add up.”
“It does if you factor in her mother. The woman is honeymooning in Europe with her new husband. She heard about Kevin’s death, but she told Amy to stay put, and she informed the seminar’s administrators to keep her on campus.”
“Let me get this straight. Amy’s mother didn’t want her attending her own father’s funeral?”
Brainert shrugged. “Some people don’t want their children exposed to death—the reality of it, even the idea of it.”
“Clearly, Amy felt differently.”
“That’s correct. Spencer told me she was determined to be with her father as he went to his final resting place. When your son heard that, he said there was no way he was going to let his friend go alone.”
I considered my son’s own loss of his father and realized what he must have felt when he saw Amy’s devastation at losing hers. I was beginning to feel a little more forgiving of Spencer’s motivation.
“Apparently, they slipped away from their dorm and off campus early this morning, hours before their first class.”
“How in the world did they get here from Boston?”
“Amy hacked her mother’s Uber account and hired a car. They arrived too late for the eulogy at the funeral home, so the two proceeded directly to Quindicott Cemetery. That’s where I saw them.”
“And how did they plan on getting back from the cemetery? Another outrageously expensive car hack?”
“Spencer said if the hack didn’t work again, he’d just call the police and, I quote: ‘turn myself in, even if it means going up the river.’” Brainert shook his head. “Where did he learn such vernacular?”
I shrugged. “Shield of Justice reruns on the Intrigue Channel, along with Dragnet and The Untouchables.”
Hey, don’t forget Naked City!
Jack, your enthusiasm surprises me. Didn’t you call those old crime shows overblown and unrealistic?
Sure, I did. No gumshoe worth his salt would do half the crazy things those lamebrain actors do. But as entertainment, it ain’t so bad.
“Poor little Amy,” Brainert said. “Kevin was a fine teacher. And a good father—from what she told me after the funeral. What happened on that highway was a senseless tragedy.”
“What did happen? Did he skid and hit a tree? That road is notorious after the rain.”
“According to the local constabulary, Dr. Ridgeway got out of his car on the highway close to midnight. At that point, they surmise a vehicle swerved into the shoulder and struck him down. Kevin died instantly, and the driver fled. There aren’t any witnesses—at least none they can find.”
“How did they know the time was close to midnight?”
“The impact shattered Kevin’s watch, stopping it.”
“Did his car break down?”
“No—and the circumstances are bewildering. Except for one broken taillight, the car had no mechanical problems or flat tires. Chief Ciders said Kevin’s vehicle was in perfect working condition. The engine was still idling when they found it. Why he left his car on a dark highway, no one can say.”
I shivered. “Why didn’t the driver who hit him stop?”
“Frightened, perhaps. Chief Ciders suggested the driver wasn’t aware they’d hit anything but a deer or raccoon. The lights are sparse on that stretch of highway, and there was fog.”
Brainert pulled a slip of paper out of his lapel pocket. “In any case, Amy gave me a number for the resort in Sardinia where her mother can be reached, if you’d like to phone her. Or I will if that’s—”
“I’ll do it. I’m going to have to call the school anyway. According to their rules, truancy is grounds for expulsion from the program, which means I’ll have to talk them into letting Spencer and Amy back in. And I swear the cost of the international call to Amy’s mother is coming out of his allowance.”
Why not put him on bread and water, too?
“Oh, shut up!”
My friend blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, Brainert, I wasn’t talking to you.”
“It’s all right. I know you’re upset about your son. But, listen, I brought you something else besides Spencer and his little precocious friend.”
“You did?”
I waited for Brainert to reach into his pocket and reveal his surprise, but what he brought me was far too large for that.
“It’s in the back,” he said, rising. “Follow me . . .”