Murder by Misadventure Read online

  Bruce Zevon, a dead ringer for Santa Claus, was the owner of Zee’s Bar and Grille, an establishment that was the hub of Twin Ponds. Just about everyone at one time or another stopped in for Zee’s tasty meals, to drink, to play pool, or simply hang out in the friendly and convivial ambiance. In the winters, it was especially inviting, with his large stone fireplace that always crackled with a warm fire. On the walls were prints of some of Maine’s attractions – the woods, the ocean, the beautifully scenic ponds and lakes. It was one of Cammie’s favorite places. It was also an excellent place to find out what was going on around town. There was a saying among the townspeople that rang true - if Zee doesn’t know about it, it didn’t happen.

  When they arrived at Zee’s, she could see him puttering about behind the bar despite the early hour. She knocked on the glass, and he immediately let them in.

  “Happy to see you two survived the apocalypse over on Pine Street,” he said as he led them towards a booth. “In fact, I had a feeling you’d show up. Got the coffee brewing, and the eggs and bacon on the stove.”

  Despite having grown up in Twin Ponds and knowing how small towns worked, she was still nonplused that he already knew about the events at Marcy’s.

  “How in heaven’s name do you know already? It just happened,” she exclaimed.

  “Haven’t you realized yet I’ve got ears everywhere?” he smiled. As Jace slid into the booth, Zee looked pointedly at her, then at Jace, then back again at her. She rolled her eyes. He clicked his tongue mournfully before bustling off to get them their coffee and breakfast.

  She sighed deeply as she sat down opposite Jace.

  “I just don’t understand it,” Jace replied. “This whole episode with Marcy, I mean.”

  “You knew Marcy?”

  “I’m going to know anyone who has a car.”

  As Twin Ponds’ mechanic extraordinaire, he had a point.

  “Why do you say that?” Cammie questioned.

  “I know she had a reputation for being a Class A bitch, but she was never that way with me.”

  “Probably because she needed you to keep her car running.”

  “No, it was more than that. She’d come in after everybody had gone home and sit with me while I worked on her car. She’d tell me about herself.”

  This was a revelation. The way Rick had described her, Cammie believed Marcy would rather kill herself than interact with anyone.

  “Her husband leaving completely devastated her,” Jace continued. “They were high school sweethearts. When she found out he was cheating on her, she admitted she went a little crazy, doing stuff she realized she shouldn’t have done.”

  “Like what?”

  “Stalking him, leaving nasty messages on his phone. She wanted so much to save her marriage, even if she went about it the wrong way. Didn’t do any good though. He ended up going to California with the woman he’d left Marcy for. She tried to pick up her life by fostering abandoned animals, but it never filled the hole in her heart.” Jace glanced at her. “She was a broken woman, Cam. Which is why I let her sit there and talk as much as she wanted. Or needed.”

  “Rick said the mess with Jerry happened two years ago. That’s a long time between the divorce and her taking a rifle and trying to take out her neighborhood. It’s possible she spent all this time stewing about it, but still…”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Loneliness is like a cancer, isn’t it? It doesn’t kill you all at once, but slowly, over time, it eats away at you until there’s nothing left. Maybe that’s what happened to Marcy. Her anger and frustration built up over time until it finally exploded. The alien thing may have been the excuse she needed to let all hell break loose.”

  Cammie sat back, stilled by his profound words. It was amazing that despite having lived with him for a little over a year, loving him and sharing the essence of who she was with him in that other life, he still had the capacity to surprise her. She quietly digested what he said before asking, “Did Marcy ever mention aliens to you?”

  “I don’t think--” Suddenly, he grew quiet. “Actually, you know, she did.”

  “When was that?”

  “It was the last time I changed her oil. Let me see. I can check the receipts at the garage, but I’m pretty sure it was about two weeks ago. She was telling me about this movie she’d seen on TV. It had to do with alien abductions, and it was based on a true story. She said it frightened her so much, she slept that night with all the lights on.”

  “Do you remember the name of the movie?”

  “Sure do. You and I saw it last year. They’re Here.”

  Cammie remembered the movie. Atmospheric and creepy, it told the story of a woman whose child had been abducted by the greys, the aliens with the huge black eyes. The police suspected she had murdered her daughter until the greys came for her. As much as Cammie hated to admit it, the film had left her uneasy. If it weren’t for Jace, she probably would have slept with all the lights on as well.

  “So she was afraid of aliens. Well,” he continued, “everybody’s afraid of something.”

  Cammie chuckled. “Yeah? What are you so afraid of?” Her chuckle died in her throat when Jace slid his hand across the table and touched her fingers with his.

  “I’m afraid you’re never going to forgive me, and we’re going to spend the rest of our lives playing this game of pretending everything’s fine and we’re just friends.”

  Cammie didn’t know what to say. Words froze, and her heart raced in her chest. She wasn’t good at this stuff. Wasn’t good at finding the best way to express emotions that were still galloping out of control. She stared down at his hand – she didn’t have the guts to look him in the face. Nor to move her hand.

  “I say it again, Cam. I shouldn’t have walked out the way I did. You needed me. It didn’t take me long to realize I needed you. But I was afraid that too much damage had been done.” Jace leaned forward and tried to catch her eye. “I’ve learned a lot about myself these months we’ve been apart. I state here categorically that no matter what happens in the future, I’ll never leave your side again. But you need to give me that opportunity. Give us both a second chance. We were good before. We’ll be better now.” He sat back and unexpectedly sang, “You don’t what you’ve got til it’s gone.”

  “Joni Mitchell was singing about a parking lot,” Cammie murmured.

  “She was singing about paradise being paved over by a parking lot. I guess I was the bulldozer that paved over paradise. But you want to know something? You can always break up the pavement and get back to the paradise underneath.”

  For a frightening moment, Cammie couldn’t breathe. She started to panic until she realized she’d been holding her breath. She slowly let it out, knowing in that second how cornered animals felt. There was no way out. She didn’t want to deal with this. Not now. But when would she? Could she continue to run away and not face the situation? Were they both to remain in limbo forever because she lacked the courage to face her own demons? He’d apologized. How much more did she want from him?

  How much more was she going to torture herself?

  “I – um…” she started. She paused, then lifted her eyes – not to look at Jace – she couldn’t do that yet – but to look out the window onto Main Street. She watched people beginning to stir, living their lives, going about their business. Getting on with the task of getting on. Shit, why was it that this man had a better handle on his emotions than she did? The magazines all said it was the other way around. Women were supposed to be the ones who were more in touch with their feelings. Jeez, she was a freak.

  The moment of silence lengthened.

  To her immense relief, the silence was mercifully shattered when Zee showed up with two plates of steaming scrambled eggs, generous helpings of Canadian bacon, toasted sourdough bread lathered with butter, and two large mugs of steaming coffee. He put the plates in front of them, lifting an eyebrow at Cammie as he sensed the tension between the two of them. Before he c
ould walk off, the sheriff seized the opportunity of Zee’s presence to diffuse the strain between Jace and herself.

  “Zee, what can you tell me about Marcy?”

  Zee tilted his head and absently stroked his white, Santa Clause-like beard. “Not much I’m afraid. She kept to herself a lot, especially after Jerry left her. Cranky, unapproachable, nasty temper.” He shrugged. “I guess that’s what happens when you don’t get on with your life.”

  He turned on his heel and left, leaving Cammie with the uneasy feeling that his last remark may have been directed at her. She glanced at Jace and saw him quietly watching her. The tension between them went up a notch.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but aliens always make me hungry,” Cammie chirped in false gaiety. Grabbing her fork, she lowered her head and dug into her food.

  Jace knew exactly what she was doing, but it didn’t bother him. He had what Cammie lacked – patience. If it took all year to get her to see they belonged together, he could wait. And keep manipulating events so they’d have to be in each other’s company. Sooner or later she was going to realize how much she missed him and, more importantly, how much she still loved him. She just had to come to that realization herself. And she would.

  He smiled inwardly as he too dug into his breakfast.

  After finishing their meals, Cammie felt much better physically and mentally.

  “How much do we owe you?” Cammie asked Zee as she and Jace slid out of the booth.

  “It’s on the house for saving civilization at the Pine Street cul-de-sac.”

  “Thanks!”

  They stepped out on the street. Before things could get awkward again, Jace raised his hand and waved. “See you around,” he said before he turned and walked towards his truck.

  “Um, yeah. See you,” she replied as she watched him drive away.

  Was it ever going to get to a point where it wouldn’t be so awkward with him?

  That’s up to you.

  Cammie inwardly growled at that little voice inside her head that told her exactly what she didn’t want to hear.

  She drove down the two city blocks, and pulled into the parking lot behind headquarters.

  Twin Ponds’ police station was located in a small brick building midway up Main Street, the main thoroughfare that housed most of the town’s small businesses.

  When the town was incorporated in the 1860s after serving as a center for the logging industry that once ruled inland Maine, the building had housed a mercantile shop. It still retained remnants of the shop, with its large counter at the entrance behind which Rick and Emmy sat at their respective desks. Down a short corridor was Cammie’s glass enclosed office. Further down the corridor, an interrogation room and two jail cells were located.

  Unlocking the door and letting herself in through the back, Cammie took off her parka and hung it up in her office. She hadn’t been in her office since the shooting, and the sight of the immaculate desk, her phone and computer brought a sense of calm to her. Just the smell of the station made her feel good. She enjoyed her job, enjoyed her staff and despite not quite being up to her full strength, or the sad circumstances that had brought her here, she was nevertheless happy to be back.

  She continued towards the front of HQ where her eyes were immediately drawn to the large front window. There, for all to see, was Emmy’s holiday tree blinking away, its red lights refracting bands of rainbows across the pane of glass. With Valentine’s Day on the horizon, Emmy had decorated the red plastic four foot tree with dozens of red hearts and small glass cupids.

  When Cammie was first elected sheriff, she’d marveled at all the decorations and different colored trees Emmy owned. She had an orange tree for Halloween/Thanksgiving, green for Christmas, pink for Easter, this red one for Valentine’s Day and so on. It must have cost the young woman a small fortune purchasing all the ornaments, much less finding the appropriate ones to celebrate the major holidays. Accustomed to only a green Christmas tree, she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about all these other types of holiday trees. Yet, seeing the pleasure it gave Emmy to put them up, and realizing it was the perfect way to always know what holiday was coming up, Cammie quickly grew to enjoy the unique tradition.

  Except this one. She hadn’t been particularly looking forward to Valentine’s Day and thought she could avoid the whole holiday by staying holed up in Doc’s house. But the events of that day served to bring her back to work and face the tree that spoke of love and hope.

  She turned her back to it as she noticed Rick sitting at his desk.

  “Couldn’t sleep either, eh?” she asked.

  “Nope. You?”

  “No. Went over to Zee’s for breakfast.”

  “Alone?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I wasn’t alone.”

  Rick grinned, but refrained from commenting. No point jeopardizing the precarious situation. “No word from Doc?” he asked.

  “Not yet. Hopefully Marcy is okay. After Emmy gets here, I think you and I should head back to her place and see if we can find anything that could explain why she went off the deep end.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Cammie had no sooner finished speaking when the door to HQ burst open and Emmy raced in. She ran up to Cammie and threw her plump arms around the sheriff’s waist.

  “Oh my God, Sheriff! I just heard what happened. Are you and Rick alright?”

  Unable to breathe from Emmy’s tight grip, Cammie gently disengaged herself. “We’re fine. And before you ask, I got a cut on my cheek from some glass. It’s nothing serious.”

  Emmy didn’t look convinced. It took all of Cammie’s powers of persuasion to convince the young woman she was fine. As she was finishing up, her cell rang. Looking at the display, she saw it was Doc. She swiftly answered.

  “Hey, Doc. How is Marcy? Has she come out of it yet?”

  She heard Doc sigh at the other end. Her stomach tightened, dread washing over her. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Cammie,” he replied, weariness punctuating every word. “Marcy passed away ten minutes ago.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Cammie was stunned. Seeing the shock on her face, Rick and Emmy gathered close to her. “How is that possible?” she forced herself to ask.

  “It was all too much for her. Her heart gave out. I’m going to stay and assist in the autopsy. I’ll let you know what I find, if anything.”

  She quietly thanked him and slid the phone into her parka pocket.

  “Marcy’s dead,” she announced. Emmy gasped as Rick plopped back in his chair in disbelief. “Doc says her heart gave out.”

  No one knew what to say. They were each dazed, each saddened by the unexpected news. It was Cammie who finally broke the silence. She turned to Emmy, only to find her ashen and shaking.

  “Emmy, are you alright?”

  The young woman numbly nodded. Cammie led her to her desk, located across the aisle from Rick’s, and sat her down. “Is there anything I can get you?”

  Emmy shook her head. “I’m just – I can’t…” She looked up at Cammie, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Things like this just don’t happen in Twin Ponds.”

  “Unfortunately things like this happen everywhere, including Twin Ponds.” She leaned forward and gently rested her hand on Emmy’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Emmy took a deep breath, and forced a smile on her face. “I guess the idea of someone shooting at you and Rick shocked me more than I thought. I’m fine.”

  “Maybe you should go home.”

  The young woman shook her head adamantly. “I’ll go crazy there. It’s better I stay here and work. It will keep my mind focused.”

  “In that case, when you’re feeling up to it, could you please track down Marcy’s ex-husband, Jerry? I believe he’s living in California. I’d like to let him know before the news reaches gossip central.”

  Unbeknownst to the inhabitants of Twin Ponds, Emmy was an accomplished hacker. In less t
han five minutes, she handed Cammie Jerry’s number.

  It was 6 am on the west coast, but Cammie decided to place the call anyway. She removed a yellow pad from her desk, then took a long, steadying breath. This was the least favorite part of her job, and she prepared herself as best she could for the grief and disbelief that usually followed a call of this kind. When Jerry answered, he sounded wide awake. Obviously he was a morning person. After introducing herself, she gently let him know the bad news, at first omitting the part about aliens. Waiting for an outburst, she was a little taken aback when none came. In fact, Jerry sounded very matter of fact about the whole thing.

  “You believe in karma, Sheriff?” he asked.

  “Uh, sorta. Maybe. Not sure.”

  “You should. What goes around comes around. And Marcy had a lot coming around.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Marcy was a bitter woman. She never accepted the divorce. Made my life a living hell.”

  “What did she do?”

  “Throughout our marriage, she constantly accused me of cheating on her. It wasn’t true, but she wouldn’t let up. It got to a point where every time we were together, it ended up in a shouting match. She even turned physical. I can’t tell you how many times I barely dodged being clocked on the head with a book or a frying pan. There’s only so much a man can take, so I finally left.”

  “With the woman you were cheating on Marcy with.”

  There was a long silence. Cammie thought he’d hung up on her. Just as she was about to say something, Jerry spoke up, his voice defensive. “That’s what happens when you constantly accuse someone of cheating. Since she was so gung-ho on believing I was screwing around, I might as well reap the benefits.”

  Cammie had to admit there was a perverse logic to his statement.

  “Did she ever threaten you with a gun?”

  “All the time. At first I thought she was just mouthing off. But after a while, I started to get a bit nervous. You never know about these things, and she was just crazy enough to actually pull the trigger during one of our arguments. Or worse. Shoot me while I was sleeping.”