Headlamp secured around her forehead and shovel in hand, Maisie speedwalked past her neighbors’ houses, heading to the Marshalls’ backyard. The street was quiet at this hour, just the way she liked it. Only a few residents were still awake, in their living rooms, perched in front of the television. Dressed in black from head to toe, no one seemed to notice when she sped by.
She entered the Marshalls’ backyard, switched the headlamp on, approached the fire pit, and looked inside. The moon was dull, almost non-existent, darker than usual. But the lamp did its job. She plunged the shovel into the pit’s core, noticing the dirt was soft. Really soft. At first she assumed it was because Lane had worked the soil over, leaving it soft and pliable, but the deeper she dug, the more she realized there wasn’t anything to dig up. Whatever had been left there, if in fact something had been left there at all, wasn’t there any longer.
Disappointed, she stood over the hole she’d dug, thinking. If Ernest had caught Lane in the act of covertly burying something he didn’t want anyone to know he buried, chances were Lane might not have buried the item at all, possibly worried his nosey neighbor would come poking around, find something he didn’t want him to find. If true, Lane may have come up with an alternate plan, burying the item somewhere else.
But where?
She raised a finger to the center of her lips, tapping while she looked around.
A voice, low and deep, startled her. A man’s. He was close. Too close.
“Psst. Hey,” he said.
She didn’t think, and she didn’t respond. She reacted, swinging the shovel until it connected with the man’s shoulder. He went straight down. Lifting it over her head a second time, she halted when the man said, “Maisie! Wait! It’s me, Stuart!”
No. It couldn’t be. She bent in his direction, the headlamp beaming a ray of light onto his face. She dropped the shovel, crouched beside him. “Stuart? I’m sorry. I had no idea it was you or I never would have—”
He waved a hand in front of his face like a person surrendering. “Yes, yes. I know. You didn’t mean it. Just ... don’t take another swing at me again, please.”
“I wouldn’t have done it at all if you would have identified yourself. Are you okay?”
He rubbed his shoulder. “I’m fairly certain my arm will be bruised in the morning, but I’ll survive.”
“What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?”
He managed a slight smile. “You aren’t the only one who watches the street from time to time, you know.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t deny it. What did you find? Anything?”
She shook her head. “Not a single thing. Although, I feel Lane may have been planning to put something down there, just like Ernest suspected.”
“What makes you think so?”
“The soil was soft, like it had been recently turned over.”
“Maybe the cops found whatever it was when they went through the place, and that’s why it’s gone.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Unless MacDougal was skilled at hiding such details, she didn’t think so. When he stopped by her house earlier, he seemed clueless, like they were still at square one, with no leads. If he was trying to fool her, he’d done a good job.
Stuart stood, brushed the dirt off his pants. “How’d everything go with Alice today? Were you able to meet her grandmother?”
“Not exactly. A crazy woman claiming to be Lane’s mother stopped by and wanted the baby.”
“What do you mean she claimed to be related? Is she Lane’s mother or isn’t she?”
“I’m sure she is, but I found her to be lacking the skills needed to care for the child, so I waited for child services to arrive, then handed her over. She’s with Zoey’s mother now.”
He paused a moment, then said, “What happened here last night ... I don’t like it. You shouldn’t be getting involved in whatever this is, Maisie.”
It was the most concern he’d ever shown for her. “Don’t worry about me, Stuart. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s just, I have a feeling what happened here goes far beyond a murder. I know you’re going to do as you please, but you should be careful.”
“I will be.”
Stuart bent his head in the direction of her house. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you home.”