Crowned and Moldering

“I wonder if it has something to do with Lily.”

“That was my first guess.”

“I’ll talk to Hal. He might know something.”

“Okay, and if you see anyone else who might have a clue, ask them. I want to know what the heck Cliff was thinking.”

“And we don’t know if Denise has been arrested,” she said. “I hope they let her go.”

“Me, too,” I whispered. “It sounds like Cliff would’ve killed her if he’d had the chance.”

I walked Lizzie back to the store and drove toward home. We had both promised to call each other first thing if we heard anything. Because that’s how our small-town world operated.

It bothered me that Cliff had told Denise something so outrageous that she’d taken a lethal swing at him. I supposed the story would leak out eventually, so I would just have to wait. Patience, sadly, was not my greatest virtue.

*   *   *

When I got home, I dashed up the stairs that led to the apartment over the garage to look for Mac. After a few seconds of my pounding on the door, he answered, looking as though he hadn’t slept all night. He wore a ratty old T-shirt with holes, an ancient pair of cargo shorts, and flip-flops. Despite all that, he looked ridiculously sexy.

“Are you working?” I asked, recognizing his usual writing attire.

“No, because someone was hammering on my door so loudly I couldn’t concentrate.” He said it with a gleam in his eye, so I didn’t feel too awful for interrupting.

“Sorry, but I have to talk to you.”

He swung the door open. “Come in. Talk to me.”

The large studio apartment was neater than I’d thought it would be, given that Mac was in writing mode. Yes, his desk was a mess, but that was to be expected. The king-sized bed was made, though, with all the pillows stacked in an orderly fashion. The small dining table in front of the bay window held only a thin vase with a sprig of flowers from my garden.

“What’s up?” he said.

“There’s a secret room behind the kitchen wall with a fireplace and a staircase going to the second and third floors,” I told him.

He pulled out one of the chairs next to the table. “Sit. Breathe.”

I plopped down, realizing for the first time how fast my heart was beating. It was no wonder. I had discovered a secret room!

Mac pulled out the other chair and joined me at the table. “So, Aldous had the right of it after all.”

“Yes, and I felt so bad. I tracked him down a while ago to show him pictures and tell him about it. He had tears in his eyes, and it almost broke my heart.”

“Can I see the pictures?”

“Oh yeah.” I pulled my tablet out of my bag and handed it to him.

As he gazed at the photographs, I related the entire story to Mac, of poor Betsy’s attack on the back stairs and the cover-up that followed. When I was done, Mac took my hand and we sat in silence for several long minutes.

“I admit I’m fascinated by the hidden staircase,” Mac said. “But its history is so dark, I wonder if the whole thing should be walled up again.”

“You should look it over before you decide, of course. But maybe you could hang a plaque in there. And maybe your story could be a tribute of sorts to Betsy.” I shrugged, feeling a little silly for telling a bestselling author how to write. “Or not, if that isn’t your style.”

He squeezed my hand. “I’d like to think I have it in me to do her justice.”

“Oh, Mac.” I rewarded him with a bright smile. “I know you do.”

Eventually the subject changed back to Lily. Mac brought his computer over to the table and typed rapidly as I told stories of those days back in high school. I switched to Denise’s attack on Cliff and conjectured here and there, wondering if Denise had been sleeping with Cliff and speculating on which other girls Cliff might’ve been dating. I knew he had asked me out, and Whitney, too. But not Jane. So who else had Cliff Hogarth been interested in? Did he make some girl so jealous that she stalked Lily and killed her? And what about the present day? Was Cliff spreading lies about other people besides Denise? And me? I’d almost forgotten my desire to sue him for slander. The lawsuit would have to wait until he was healthy enough to be dragged into court.

I told Mac what Denise had said about Dismal Dain and his weird attraction to Mr. Jones’s biology rats. I told him more about Sean and Lily’s father, and wondered aloud if Hugh Brogan had had something to do with Lily’s demise. I didn’t mention her pregnancy or anything else that Eric had told me in confidence. I knew that detail would be revealed eventually and it would be important to Mac’s article. But for now he had enough ghoulishly useful information to begin setting the scene for Lily’s death.

*   *   *

I drove back to school to finish up the day with my parking-lot crew. As I watched the backhoe scoop up big chunks of asphalt into its loader, Whitney approached. I braced myself for her latest insult, but she was too shaken to verbally abuse me.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

“I’m just so upset about Cliff.” She sniffled into a tissue, seeming genuinely distraught. “Just when he was getting his life back together, this had to happen. It’s not fair.”

“Well, if you really want to be fair, you must admit he had to have said something pretty awful to Denise if she was driven to try to hit him like that.”

Whitney uttered a sound of contempt. “It figures you would have no sympathy for him.”

“Hey, I’m glad he’s not dead. But my real sympathy is for Denise. And yours should be, too. I thought you guys were good friends!”

“We are! Of course we are,” Whitney insisted. “But Cliff’s the one in the hospital.”

“I’m sure Tommy told you the whole story. Denise was fighting for her life when she finally hit him.”

“Whatever. I still feel for Cliff,” she said. “And if Denise hadn’t confessed that she hit him, I would suspect you. You hate him and I don’t know why. Wait. Yes, I do. It’s because you’re jealous because he liked me so much.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered, and started to walk away. But I couldn’t let it go. I just couldn’t. I turned around and said, “The way you’ve been yammering on and on about how much you like Cliff Hogarth and how he was always asking you out, and how you wanted to give him a job at your house? It makes Tommy look more like a suspect than I could ever be. So think about that.”

Her face turned pale. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

I couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, so I spun around and walked away as fast as I could. It wasn’t often I managed to get the last word in with Whitney and I wanted to enjoy the moment.

I kept walking and ended up at the main school building, staring up at the double doors leading inside. I didn’t want to walk back to the parking lot and take a chance on ru

But once inside, I leaned against the door and sighed. I didn’t know why Whitney was so determined to defend Cliff when she was supposedly such good friends with Denise. I had to think it was only because of me. Tommy refused to hire anyone else to do the work on their house but me, and Whitney didn’t like that one bit. She wanted Cliff. Or anyone else, for that matter. Anyone except me.

And that was too darned bad.

“You look like you’re hiding from someone.”

I turned around and smiled. “Hello, Mr. Jones.”

“Hello, Sha

If only I could tell the truth, but instead I continued to smile and told a small fib. “I’m waiting for someone, but it looks like they’ll be late.” My smile faded as I realized what he’d been through today. “Is Denise okay, Mr. Jones? I’m so worried about her.”

“She’ll be fine,” he said somberly. “She’s home, resting.”