A Justified Murder (Medlar Mystery #2)(13)

Megan again buried her face in her hands. “My brother is the only person in town who has ever been nasty to Janet Beeson.”

Jack stood up. “Megan,” he said firmly, “I think you should go to Sheriff Flynn in the morning and tell him everything. Personally, I think he’s going to tell you to go home and quit worrying. No one’s going to think your brother murdered a woman because she never forgave him for something his kids did. Your brother made amends as best he could.”

“Will you tell Sheriff Flynn for me?”

“No!” Jack said. “That’s your job, not ours.” He held out his hand to help her up. “I want you to go home and get some sleep. You’ve worked yourself into a frenzy for no reason.”

She looked up at Jack and batted her tear-dampened lashes. “You think so?”

“Yes, I do.” His voice was firm, allowing no disagreement. With his hand on her lower back, he ushered her to the front door.

“I always liked you, Jack,” Megan said. “Remember that date we went on when you were a senior and I was just a junior? You were such a gentleman. I’ve always wondered why you didn’t ask me out on a second date.”

“Your brother...uh, asked me not to.”

“He did?”

Jack opened the door and half shoved her out. “Go home and sleep and tomorrow go talk to the sheriff. Got it?”

She smiled. “I will.”

He shut the door, leaned on it, and looked at Sara and Kate.

“So why didn’t you ask her out again?” Kate asked.

“She was a fluffy-brained giggler. And besides, her brother said he’d take a sledgehammer to my truck if I so much as touched her.”

“With a temper like that,” Kate said, “maybe he did do something to Janet Beeson.”

Sara gave a snort. “Ha! If I had a younger sister and an eighteen-year-old Jack got near her, I’d have pulled out a shotgun.”

“I can understand that,” Kate said. “So what’s changed about him now?”

Jack groaned. “I’m going back to bed. Alone. In spite of my undeserved reputation.” He rubbed his eyes. “Little kids painting witch on a door as a cause for murder,” he mumbled. “Ridiculous.”

“If Janet had murdered him, I’d understand,” Sara said. “But not the other way around.”

Kate looked thoughtful. “Maybe Janet and Carolyn were having the affair and Kyle—”

“I’m the writer,” Sara said, “so don’t steal my job. But that isn’t a bad idea for a story. If—”

“Bed!” Jack said and headed down the hall.

Smiling, Sara and Kate separated and went to their own rooms.



Four


AT 2:00 A.M. the doorbell started again. This time it was accompanied by sharp rapping on glass.

Again, Kate struggled out of bed and again her foot got caught in her pants leg. “Why should I bother?” she mumbled. “Why don’t I just go to the door in my T-shirt and undies? Better yet, I’ll stay in bed and let Jack and Aunt Sara handle it.”

The doorbell kept going in spurts, like a siren warning of an approaching tornado. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants off a hook and pulled them on.

As before, Jack was by the front door. In spite of the noise, he was leaning against the jamb, his eyes closed, half-asleep. Sara was sluggishly walking toward them. She’d put on a silky blue pajama set that looked like it was from a 1930s Carole Lombard movie.

“Who is it?” Kate asked.

“Three girls,” Jack said. “I know their parents but not them. But I’ve heard enough to know that they travel in a Mean Girl pack. Nastiest of the nasties. You know, it would help if girls didn’t become pretty until they reached twenty-one.”

“Ugliness would have stopped you in high school?” Kate asked, yawning.

Jack didn’t reply, but placed himself in front of the door, then opened it. He wasn’t going to let this batch run into Sara.

Sure enough, three very pretty teenage girls ran in and slammed into him. For all that it was the wee hours of the morning, the girls were beautifully groomed: shiny, styled hair, so much makeup a circus performer would be envious, and clothes that could grace the cover of a fashion magazine.

“Oh, Jack,” the middle one said. “You have to help us.”

“Yes, Jack,” the blonde one said. “We don’t want to go to jail.”

The last girl was looking at Kate. “Is this your girlfriend everyone talks about? I didn’t know you liked red hair.” She stroked her own dark locks. “I could dye mine if you—”

Sara spoke up. “Is this about Janet Beeson?”

“Yes,” the first girl said. She was the tallest and seemed to be the leader. “Sheriff Flynn told my father he wanted to talk to us at eight a.m. We don’t know what to say.”

Jack was standing by the door. “How about the truth? Now that that’s settled, you can go home.”

The girls didn’t move. The taller one started to cry in a way that didn’t mess up her makeup. The others followed her lead.

Jack looked like he wanted to join them. “We have nothing to do with this case so there’s no reason for you to tell us anything, and certainly no reason for you to be here at two in the morning. Save your story for the sheriff.”