Chapter 9

Jeff waved at us as he unwound himself from the police car.  He intercepted Jake and the two dogs before they got to Mr. Maguire's driveway.  After leaning down to say something to his son, he pointed in our direction and Jake came racing up to Uncle Jimmy's house, with Duncan and Zippy at his heels.

"Daddy says to stay up here on the porch and mind my own business," Jake declared, climbing up onto the porch swing.  "Can I have a cookie?"

Hmph, like that message was really for Jake.  I sat down in the double rocking chair on the end of the porch closest to the action at the neighbor's house.  Uncle Jimmy laughed and handed me a glass of tea.  He sat down in the other chair, turning it slightly so that he had a decent view, too.  We are definitely related.

Taylor came out the front door with a plate of cookies and sat down next to her brother on the swing.

"You think Mr. Maguire is dead, Mom?" she asked with her mouth full.

"I have no idea," I replied.  "I am just sitting here minding my own business."

"Me, too," said Uncle Jimmy, "but it sure would be a lot easier if I had a cookie to munch on."

Jake brought us each a cookie and climbed up on my lap.  "I can see better from here," he said, crunching happily on his own afternoon snack, crumbs all over the front of his shirt.  Definitely his father's son - well, except for the nosy gene.

The ambulance arrived and parked in the driveway.  Piney Point's only two paramedics, Rick and Jamie, removed their gurney and supply bag from the back and hurried inside.  I looked at my uncle.

"Probably a good sign they hurried," he commented and took a long sip of tea.  A couple of minutes later, Jamie came back outside and got a black body bag out of the vehicle.

"Or not," I said.

I looked over at the other side of the porch; Taylor was deep in concentration over her latest reading material: Wuthering Heights.  I smiled - it hadn't taken her long to discover the school library.  Jeff would be relieved to know that boys probably weren't going to be much of an issue any time soon.

"I think our Jake had a rough day at school," Uncle Jimmy noted.  "He is down for the count."

I leaned over and looked at Jake - sure enough, he was asleep.  If I didn't know better, I would have thought that he and his father planned this little nap to keep me on the porch and out of the way of the ongoing investigation, whatever Jeff was actually investigating three houses down.  Maybe Mr. Maguire had passed - but if he did, then who called the police?

Officer Danny appeared just outside the front door of the Maguire house - followed by a person of indeterminate sex about five inches shorter, wearing a black trench coat, a black hat and dark sunglasses.  I was pretty sure it was a woman - but unless it was Carmen Sandiego, this person was going to great lengths to disguise her identity.  Maybe we were looking at the murderer; I didn't think so because she wasn't wearing handcuffs and Danny took her arm and led her to his car where he helped her into the front seat in an extremely solicitous manner.  I looked over at Uncle Jimmy.

"What do you make of that?" I asked.

He pondered for a minute.  "Did you say you made a cake for dessert tonight?"

I nodded.

"Taylor," he said, "let's you and me walk the dogs on home and pick up that cake your mama made for supper.  We can see if Grandpa Jack wants to join us for chili."

"I don't know if he'll be home.  He said something about a date tonight with his lady friend, Mrs. West."

"Well, either way, we'll be back," Uncle Jimmy said.  I watched them saunter off down the sidewalk - a little faster than usual, but I assumed the plan was to try and intercept Officer Danny as he was backing out of the driveway.  I hope it worked.

As if on cue, Duncan made a mad dash for the drivers' side door of the patrol car.  Danny rolled down the window and looked around to see if the dog's owner was nearby.  Uncle Jimmy leaned down and took hold of Duncan's collar and spoke to the patrolman for a moment.  He waved as the car pulled away from the curb and then he and Taylor continued down the street to our house.  Wily old bird, I thought and looked back at the Maguire house.  No more activity.

I wish I could say that my strategic observation post yielded any new information, but I saw or heard nothing.  It was as dull as watching paint dry and I admit that I fell asleep pondering my mental list of suspects, only to be awakened when Aunt Rob arrived home from his garden club meeting.  Jeff's car and the ambulance were still parked at the, well, whatever kind of scene it was going to turn out to be.

"I see detecting is tiring work," he said and sat down in the empty rocking chair.  "What now?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I answered.  "I do know my arm is asleep."

"Let me have our boy," he said, taking Jake from me and settling back into his chair.  I filled him in on what I knew so far, which wasn't much.  I reached over and tried unsuccessfully to close Jake's open mouth.

"You know he's just going to drool all over your shirt," I said.

"Not a big deal.  As I recall, you've thrown up on me a time or two."  Rob laughed.  "I survived."

"What can I say?  I only puke on the people I love."

Finally - some movement down the street!  The front door opened and the paramedics wheeled the gurney down the porch steps to the waiting ambulance.  Whoever was on it, and I assumed it was Jerry Maguire, was alive because Jamie was holding an IV bag aloft.  After they loaded the patient into the rig, Rick went back inside and not long afterward, he and Jeff came back out the front door carrying the body bag.  It wasn't empty anymore.  Wait - three people?  No, I told myself, I am not going to let my imagination run wild here.  I am sure Jeff will explain - at some point.

I looked over at Rob and I knew we were thinking exactly the same thing.  God forgive us, we both started to snicker.  I looked away, took a deep breath and willed myself to stop laughing.  Why, oh why, was I part of a family prone to inappropriate hilarity?

"Do. Not. Laugh," I said, as sternly as I dared.  I could feel the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Don't you look at me," Rob said.  "This is no laughing matter."

But it was; it really was.  I looked over at Aunt Rob and grinned.  "You know you want to," I said.  That was all it took.  We both gave in to an uncontrollable fit of the giggles that didn't really subside completely until Taylor and Uncle Jimmy returned a few minutes later with the cake.

"I don't know what y'all are laughing at, but I know who the lady in disguise is," Jimmy said.  He paused for dramatic effect.

"Well?" Rob said.  "We're waiting."

"I think you all should take a wild guess."

"I guess Sponge Bob!" said a sleepy-eyed Jake, delightfully oblivious to the gist of the conversation.

"And I guess that it's time for Taylor to take her brother inside and see what's on television," said Jeff from the porch steps.  "It would be really nice if my lovely wife would scoot over, let me sit down and hand me that sweet tea."  I slid to the other side of the chair seat and handed him my glass.  He drank what was left and held the glass out to Rob for a refill.  I waited patiently while Jeff drank about half of the second glass.  He was tormenting us now.  I reached over and poked him on the arm.

"What?" he asked.  "I was really thirsty."

"Tell. Us. What. Happened," I said, glaring at him.  "I sat here and minded my own business, just like you had Jake tell me to."

"Would I do that?" Jeff replied, grinning a little.  "You really didn't though.  Uncle Jimmy's little recon expedition to find out who was in the car did not go unnoticed."  He put his arm around my shoulders and leaned over to kiss me.  I turned my face away from him and his lips landed somewhere in the vicinity of my right ear.

"So don't tell us," I said.  "I'll read about it in the paper.  Next week, like everyone else in town."

It was Jeff's turn to chuckle.  "Oh, right.  Like you can hold out until next week for information."

"Isn't anyone going to guess who was in the car?" Uncle Jimmy was still waiting for someone to choose a suspect from what was turning out to be a cast of thousands.  Well, hundreds maybe.  Okay, probably less than fifty, but still.

I thought for a minute.  Who had the most to lose from any involvement in a scandal?  I mentally ran through my own list of suspects and narrowed it down to two.  I knew it couldn't possibly be one of them because I knew for a fact that she was still at her place of employment during the hubbub down the street.

"The mayor," I said, matter-of-factly.  "Right?"

And there it was again - Jeff's well-I'll-be-damned look.  I'll admit, I smirked a little.

"How does she do that?" my husband said, to no one in particular.