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  Dee Dee stepped in front of Miss May. “Not if you’re in lawyer-mode, May. Maggie’s going through a tragedy here.”

  Miss May crossed her arms. “But Dee—”

  “I said no, May. Besides, the police have already declared Vinny's death an accident.”

  “The police officers in this town wouldn’t know a murder if they committed it themselves.”

  “So you think Maggie—”

  “Heck no, Dee!” Miss May said. “I just want to talk to her. Make sure she’s doing OK. See if there's any way I can help.”

  Dee Dee set her jaw closed. “She’s fine. Now please. I’d like to get back to my practice.”

  “OK,” Miss May threw up her hands. “We'll go.”

  Miss May glared at Dee Dee. It was clear she resented her little sister taking a stand. Some sibling dynamics seem to fade over time while others just get stronger.

  Miss May turned to go, and Dee Dee relaxed back into her sun salutation. But as soon as Dee Dee bent at the waist, Miss May turned back and darted inside the apartment. “Maggie,” she called out. “You home?!”

  Dee Dee hurried inside after Miss May. “May! Get back here!”

  But it was too late. Miss May was already inside, and she wouldn't leave until she got her answers.

  19

  A Shocking Development

  Although there's no such thing as time travel, or portals into another dimension, when I stepped into Aunt Dee Dee’s apartment, I felt was walking directly into the past.

  I hadn’t been “over to Maggie’s house” for fifteen years, but nothing had changed. To the right, a musty living room was cluttered with potted plants, tweed furniture, and books on spiritualism, yoga, and vegan food. To the left, there was a modest kitchen, with granite countertops and old, white appliances. Just past the kitchen was a small dining room with a table for four.

  Maggie sat at the table. Vinny’s brother, Lance, sat beside her. Miss May and Dee Dee loomed above them, continuing their argument.

  “I said go home, May!” Aunt Dee Dee put her hands on her hips.

  “I will,” Miss May said. “As soon as I get to talk to Maggie.”

  Lance pushed back his chair with a screech and stood up, “Sorry, what’s going on here?”

  “Lance, hi. Remember me? Miss May? From the farm? I’m sorry for your loss. Truly.”

  “Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.” Lance tried to smile, but it looked more like a frown.

  “How are you doing?” Miss May asked. “If there’s anything I can do...”

  “I’m holding up. I guess.” Lance looked down. “I’ve been trying to handle the arrangements, so my mom doesn’t have to. It’s...been hard. I came by today to ask Maggie her opinion on...” Lance choked back tears and swallowed loud.

  “Alright, May,” Dee Dee snapped. “You’ve expressed your sympathies. Time to go.”

  Dee Dee took Miss May by the elbow and tried to lead her out. Miss May yanked her elbow away and planted her feet. I recognized that stance. Dee and Miss May were about to enter an ugly standoff. I had seen this only a few times before, but every time Miss May and Dee feuded, it was like watching two ornery mules mud wrestle to the death. Neither woman would back down without a lot of braying and kicking.

  Maggie knew the sight of a Thomas woman stalemate too. And she wasn’t in the mood.

  “It’s OK, Mom,” Maggie said, looking up at Dee Dee. Maggie’s face was red and puffy, like she had been crying for years. “I’m glad Miss May and Chelsea are here. I...I want them to stay.”

  Miss May wasn’t one to gloat at a time like this. Still, a subtle smirk of victory that I'm sure only I recognized flickered across her lips.

  Dee rubbed Maggie’s back warmly. “OK, Maggie. If that’s what you want. But I think our visitors should go after I finish my savasana.”

  “Of course,” Miss May said.

  Then Dee Dee exited to the back bedroom where she resumed her yoga practice with a resounding "ohm."

  Once Dee Dee left, Miss May crossed to Maggie and sat at the dining room table beside her. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

  Lance put a hand on Maggie's shoulder. “She’s been pretty upset.”

  "And how are you?" Miss May pivoted her gaze to Lance, and he looked like a solemn wreck. His big round eyes were red and strained, like the cupped palms of a beggar’s hands, and his lips jutted out in a childish pout.

  Lance must be a good guy, I thought. Compassionate and kind. Maybe Detective Hudson was that kind of guy. I mean, not that I cared what kind of guy Wayne might be. Even if I did care, that was an inappropriate moment for me to daydream about a hunky cop.

  Quite a while had passed with no response from Lance when Miss May cleared her throat and continued the conversation.

  “You must be worn out, Lance. Why don’t you go lie down? I can keep Maggie company.”

  Miss May was trying to get Maggie alone.

  “I don’t think I could sleep if I tried,” Lance said. “I’d rather be around people.”

  “Of course.” Miss May tensed slightly. Lance, as well-intentioned as he may have been, was getting on her last nerve.

  “But are you sure you don’t want to try for just a little shut eye? You must be beat.” Miss May attempted nonchalance, but her facade broke a little. She came off more cajoling than kind.

  “I’m dead to the world,” Lance conceded. “But my brother would have wanted me to look after Maggie. And I can’t be here for her if I’m not...here.”

  Miss May couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed Lance by the arm and tried to pull him away. “Ten minutes. Everyone needs to sleep.”

  Lance wriggled out of May’s grip and crossed his arms, “I don’t want to sleep.” His voice was gravelly and frustrated. I understood his resistance, but he also clearly needed sleep.

  Maggie tried to come to the rescue once again. “Miss May’s right, Lance. I’ll be OK. You haven’t even napped since...” Maggie lowered her eyes.

  “That’s because I don't...” Lance lowered his eyes too. “I don't want be alone.”

  Miss May rubbed Lance’s back and furrowed her brow. She needed to tell Maggie about Rita before Dee Dee finished yoga. But it undoubtedly went against every single one of Miss May’s moral fibers to out Vinny in front of Lance.

  I wanted to be of service, but I didn’t have a great track record of diversionary tactics. Once, in middle school, the popular Jenny Nelson had asked me to distract our teacher so that Jenny could sneak out to the bathroom.

  So I had raised my hand to create a distraction. But as soon as teacher had said, “Yes, Chelsea?” I had frozen, overwhelmed by the rare opportunity to be "popular adjacent." Then, I had stammered out the five worst words I could have possibly said. “Jenny Nelson has to pee.”

  Yeah. I wasn’t great under pressure.

  Still, I wanted to help Miss May. So I tried my best to draw Lance away. “Lance, actually I uh, was hoping you could...look at my...foot.” Woof.

  Everyone turned and stared at me like I’d just had a nip-slip.

  “Your foot?” Lance asked. “You want me to look at your foot? Why?”

  Good question. “Uh. Vinny told me you were an expert on...ingrown toenails.”

  Miss May looked at me pityingly. She knew what I was doing, and she also knew how spectacularly I was failing.

  “I'm not sure why he would have said that,” Lance said. "I guess I do have a podiatrist I like. I'll send you his info later."

  "Thanks." I nodded and shrank back down. Well, that was the only trick up my pant leg. I shrugged at Miss May.

  Out of options, she steeled herself, and squared up to Lance.

  “The truth is I have unsettling news about your brother. And I don’t want to put you through that.”

  Lance tensed up like a runner before a sprint. “What kind of news?”

  Maggie twisted a napkin in her hand, “Yeah, what are you talking about?”

  Miss May picked at h
er cuticles for a few seconds. Hey! That’s where I got that bad habit.

  Then she turned to Maggie and came out with it. “I have good reason to believe Vinny was cheating on you."

  Maggie’s face relaxed. “Oh. With Rita?”

  Miss May nodded, unsure.

  “He told me all about that.”

  Miss May cocked her head. “He did?”

  “Yeah. We worked through it. Together.”

  Maggie was unfazed, but Lance did a double-take. “I’m sorry, can we back up a second?” Lance turned to Miss May. “What are you saying about my brother?”

  “He cheated on me,” Maggie said.

  Lance shook his head, in total shock. “N-no he didn't. He never told me that.” He looked up and his chin quavered. “Vinny told me everything.”

  “It ended a long time ago. Water under the rug.”

  Water under the bridge, I thought. But I kept the correction inside.

  Miss May put a hand on Maggie's arm and muttered her next few words like a doctor delivering a terminal diagnosis. “Did you know that Rita is pregnant with Vinny's baby?”

  The color drained from Maggie’s cheeks. She blinked about a thousand times in two seconds and tried to form words, but all that came out was a quiet choking sound. “No, she isn’t.”

  Lance put his coffee cup on the table with a thud. “That can’t be true."

  Lance looked over at Miss May. She nodded and looked away.

  “No way,” Lance said. “Vinny was a lot of things. But...not that.”

  Once again, Miss May nodded. And we all sat there for a minute or two as Maggie processed the information.

  When Maggie finally spoke, her voice was monotone, like she had lost the ability to process her emotions. "How do you know it's true?"

  “It’s true,” I said.

  Maggie whirled on me. “How do you know? Who told you? Why did you come here and tell me this!?”

  “I-I-I just know,” I stammered.

  “How!?” Maggie shouted. Vinny’s death had been enough of a blow to her. The notion that some other woman might have his baby was too much. She yelled again, getting closer to my face, "How do you know?"

  Miss May tried to squeeze between us. “Maggie. Don’t take this out on Chelsea.”

  Maggie spun on Miss May. “Who should I take it out on? Huh!” Maggie got in Miss May’s face.

  Lance leaned back in his chair, forlorn, and at that moment, I realized it was my time to act.

  Be brave, I told myself. Be bold. Be anything but yourself.

  “Magpie,” I said. Maggie turned to me. She probably hadn’t heard that nickname in twenty years.

  “Rita told me herself. She said...Vinny was planning to...well, that he...he decided he wanted to...”

  Now I was the one who couldn’t complete a sentence. I was terrible at delivering bad news, and this news was positively catastrophic. “He was going to what!?” Maggie said.

  Miss May ripped off the proverbial Band-Aid. “Rita said Vinny wanted to leave you and raise the baby with Rita.”

  Maggie’s mouth hung open. “I... can’t believe that.”

  “It’s true,” Miss May said.

  Lance sighed and looked over at Miss May. “Why are you doing this? My brother’s dead. You have no proof, do you? You’re just... running around, ruining his life, his legacy, for no reason?”

  “I’m sorry.” Miss May whispered.

  Maggie broke down into sobs.

  Miss May put her hand on Maggie’s shoulder, but Maggie shook her off. “Will you please leave?”

  Miss May reached right back out and brushed Maggie’s hair back, and that time Maggie let her. Sometimes Miss May had a primal way of soothing people, like she knew what to do without thinking. That was one of those times.

  “I don’t think he would have actually left me for her,” Maggie blew her nose. “He wouldn’t have waited until the night of our rehearsal if he was going to do that.”

  Miss May pressed on gently. “But that night, people heard you arguing. What were you fighting about?”

  Maggie looked over at Lance, then back at Miss May. She was about to answer when—

  THUD! THUD! THUD! Someone pounded on the door and a voice boomed from outside. “Police! Open the door!”

  Lance crossed to the window and looked out. “It’s that new detective. Should I let him in?”

  My heart skipped at the mention of Wayne, and I reflexively fixed my hair. What was wrong with me? Did I think Wayne had stopped by my cousin’s house the day after her the murder of her fiancé to invite me on a date? I scolded myself, and, although I knew I was being ridiculous, I checked my breath.

  The fist thundered against the door three more times, and Dee Dee rushed in from the bedroom. “What is going on here!?”

  Dee opened the door, and darn if I didn’t fix my hair again at the sight of Detective Hudson. It was like I’d lost control of my hands. His large frame filled the doorway. Like the Iron Giant. I felt my knees get a little softer. Was this what a swoon felt like?

  “Is Maggie Thomas home?”

  Dee looked back at Maggie. Maggie clutched her coffee cup like it was the only thing she had in the world. “Yes. She’s home. Why?”

  “I have a warrant for her arrest.”

  20

  Ominous Orchard

  I want to say Wayne arresting Maggie was one of the worst things I had ever seen. But he looked good as he guided her into that cop car. Strong and with a quiet confidence that said, “Look how hot I am,” and “I am a hot, hot cop.”

  Still, as Maggie got driven away in the police cruiser, I felt like a total failure. Miss May and I had come to the Heights to protect Maggie, and instead we had burdened her with heartbreaking news and then watched her get arrested.

  The whole situation was embarrassing and disappointing.

  It was also annoying.

  Word travelled through Pine Grove in a hurry. I was sure that everyone in town had heard about Miss May and me investigating Vinny’s death. The cops should have at least known what we were doing. But neither Wayne nor the police department had contacted us once during our investigation. Then they showed up out of nowhere and arrested Maggie? My sweet, doe-eyed cousin, of all people? Based on what? Had Rita talked to the cops? Had Sudeer? What evidence could the police have had to merit taking Maggie in?

  Maggie was innocent. I could tell by her face and her tears and her...energy. Maggie hadn’t suspected that Rita and Vinny were carrying on or that Rita was pregnant with Vinny’s kid. But what had she and Vinny been fighting about?

  Miss May and I had no way of proving Maggie’s innocence yet. All we could do, at that point, was stay on the case, and let Maggie know we had her back. So Miss May and I jumped into the bus and followed Wayne’s cruiser to the station.

  Miss May talked up a storm as she drove, getting angrier and angrier at the Pine Grove PD for their “incompetence, idiocy, and downright stupidity.” She agreed about Maggie’s innocence, and she took umbrage at the cops arresting Maggie in such grand fashion.

  “It’s not like Maggie’s a flight risk,” Miss May said. “Just ask her into the station and she’d come in, like anybody else.”

  The more Miss May talked, the angrier she got, then she peppered her speech with legalese, and that’s when she lost me. But when we got to the station, Miss May shifted gears. My aunt, who moments earlier had been yelling about “rights of the accused” and “gross breach of procedure,” now adopted a calm and steady approach to relax Maggie.

  Miss May started with the classic “don’t talk without a lawyer present” speech. Then she reminded Maggie of less obvious rights. After a few minutes, Wayne butted in to assert his authority.

  “C’mon May,” Wayne said. “You’ve got a reputation around here, and I don’t need any help with this investigation, thank you.”

  Miss May shot Wayne a look, but I jumped in before she could say anything.

  “What do you mean she’s g
ot a reputation?” I asked. Wayne swiveled his gaze to meet mine.

  Detective Hudson slipped on his metaphorical kid gloves. “Oh! Uh... When uh, your parents... lost their lives? Your aunt here was always at the station. When the chief retired last year, he told me all about it. He said your aunt was convinced the car crash wasn’t just an accident.”

  I looked at Miss May and she turned away, like she had been caught with her hand in the snickerdoodle jar. Then I turned back to Wayne. “Right, that. Of course. I knew that. They were my parents.”

  “OK. Good.” Wayne’s shoulders got more relaxed. “I was sorry to hear about all that.”

  I nodded. Talking about my parents was always a little sad. Did hot detective also have a sensitive side? Yowzah!

  “Alright people, clear the way!” Flanagan approached from the next room, all authoritative and perfect. Groan. “You can come back after we’ve completed processing. Detective Hudson, can you help me with that?”

  “Let’s do it.” Wayne and Flanagan fist-bumped. I hope that’s the only thing those two are bumping, I thought. Then I cringed at myself and followed Miss May out to the parking lot.

  As we exited the station, Miss May shook her head, “You know, policemen are supposed to make us feel safe. Protected. But most of the time they just go around arresting the wrong people. I’m sure they think they’ve got enough for a conviction on poor Maggie.”

  “Well, she had motives. Plural. Money. Revenge. Jealousy.”

  “What are you saying?” Miss May asked.

  “Nothing. I know she didn’t do it. But it doesn’t look good.”

  “No,” Miss May conceded. “It looks bad. Real bad.”

  “So what now?” I asked. “Are you going to find her one of your lawyer friends from the city to help?

  “Not necessary.”

  “Why?”

  “’Because you and I are going to find the killer. Tonight.”

  Miss May narrowed her eyes in determination. I thought about what Wayne had said and wondered if Miss May was so hell-bent on exonerating Maggie because of my parents’ death. I had a lot of questions but now wasn’t the time.