“Why?”
“Have you forgotten? Pet got those tickets to some Christmas movie that's opening at ten.”
Todd was torn. He wanted to see the movie, but didn't want to have to drag Pet along. Jane pointed out that the tickets were scarce and he hadn't managed to bag his own — Pet had, and it was she dragging him along.
Jane went to bed early, slept like a rock, and was wide awake by seven — with nothing to do. She could hardly remember a time when she didn't have at least the tail end of a "to do" list pending. She let the pets outside, let them back in and fed them. This always had to be done early on Tuesdays because the trash trucks came later in the morning, terrifying the cats and moving Willard to bark his fool head off. Jane went back to bed with a new mystery book that was already overdue at the library. But she couldn't quite get into it.
She was as twitchy today as Julie Newton always was. Maybe that was Julie's problem — she got too much sleep. She tried picturing Julie as a go-go dancer. It wasn't hard. Go-go dancing, as Jane recalled, was all twitching.
Had Julie told Shelley the truth? Even if Julie really had been a stripper and Lance had proof, could it be a reason to kill him? As deep, dark secrets went, it wasn't a very good one.
The only person on the files who appeared to really have something to fear from Lance was Bruce Pargeter. And he freely admitted that he despised the man. And he really didn't have a good alibi for the night Lance was killed. He and his mother were both at home, but she was upstairs and he was in the basement. Even if she had suspected that Bruce had left the house, she certainly wouldn't have let on. He was her son. And the man who was murdered had been largely responsible for her own husband's death.
Jane had the sense that something was stirring around furtively at the back of her brain. Did her subconscious know something it was refusing to let go of? Or was she just hyper because she'd gotten too much sleep?
At nine, she woke Todd and called Mel. "Anything new?" she asked.
“Not a thing except that the files on the disk were a bust, which I guess you know."
“Boring, aren't they." She told him about Shelley's phone conversation with Julie Newton.
“Yes, Julie called earlier. There was something in the paper this morning about the disk having been found and she put two and two together."
“How did the newspaper find out?"
“We told them. And emphasized that we felt there was nothing of use to the investigation on it. I didn't want anybody else bashed around in pursuit of the damned thing. And Ginger is doing well," he added. "She still can't remember what happened to her, but her health is much improved."
“That's good to hear."
“You sound preoccupied," Mel said.
“I am. There's something on the fringe of my mind I can't get a hold on. Something about the attack on Ginger."
“The method? The place? The time?" Mel tried to help her prod the memory.
“No. Never mind. It's probably something useless anyway. How's Addie?"
“Fine. Fine!" he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "A little bored, of course. I'd hoped to be free more of the time while she was visiting.”
She hoped he wasn't hinting that Jane entertain her, but if so, it was a doomed hope. "Well, I better get along. I'm taking Todd and Pet to the premier of a movie. I hope it's something appropriate, but I'm not going to investigate it too thoroughly for fear it's not."
“I'm sure Sam Dwyer has checked it out," Mel said. "He's very protective of his daughter."
“True. You've relieved my mind. Call me later, okay?”
Mel lowered his voice. "Want to see if we can sneak away this afternoon?”
She knew what he had in mind and it sounded good to her, but it wasn't possible. "I have to go back into hostess mode this afternoon and fix a nice dinner. My in-laws are coming over."
“I'm not crazy about celibacy."
“Neither am I, but I've got kids all over my house, you've got your mother at yours and I'm sure every hotel in the city is full of visiting relatives. Talk to you later.”
Jane took the kids to the movie. It was nice being able to back out of a pristine driveway, but she wished Mike had set the trash farther to the left. She had no room to avoid falling inthe infamous pothole. "Mom!" Todd said, rubbing his head where he'd bumped it on the window. "You've got to get that fixed.”
When she got back from dropping them off, Katie was in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge. "What are you looking for?" Jane asked.
“Eggs. I want scrambled eggs. With bacon."
“I'll fix it," Jane said.
“You will?"
“I've got a lot of extra energy to expend." Jane gestured at Katie to sit down at the table. Jane pulled out a carton of eggs and put them on the counter. Oops, that was the full carton. She thought that there was another with only two eggs left. She found the other carton hiding behind a bowl of cookie dough that had somehow been forgotten. Jane stood for a moment, staring at the egg cartons.
“Mom? What's wrong? Mom? Wake up." Jane turned to Katie. "Egg cartons," she said. "Egg cartons and milk cartons."
“What are you—"
“Don't talk for a second. Let me think," Jane said. She put the eggs down, mumbling to herself and nodding. "Yes, yes. It has to be. It's the only thing— Katie, I take back my offer to make breakfast.”
She ran upstairs, closed the bedroom door behind her and dialed Shelley. In broken phrases, she told Shelley what she'd figured out. "Does that make any sense at all?" she asked.
“It might not be right, but it all fits. But you better call Mel right away. The trash trucks are coming."
“Oh! Yes.”
She called Mel, horrified that he might not be at his desk, that the evidence was going to disappear any second. It was plain good luck that he picked up the phone. She ran through her theory again. "Oh, come on, Jane!" he said. "It's all speculation."
“But you can check on one part of it easily. And you better do it fast. The trash trucks are coming," she said, echoing Shelley's warning.
He didn't even say good-bye before hanging up. He had taken her seriously in spite of the absurdity of her thoughts.
Shelley was already at the door when Jane got downstairs. Katie was cooking eggs and looking at Jane as if she'd gone bonkers. Jane threw on her coat and boots and she and Shelley went out to the driveway.
Wringing her hands, Jane said, "Should we go steal the trash?"
“No, we could really screw things up if we did that.”
As they spoke, a police car turned the corner and stopped at the end of the block. Jane could hear the clank and rumble of trucks on the next street. Mel's MG skidded around the same corner and came to rest pointing the wrong way on the opposite curb. He got out to talk to the other officer, and glancing up the street, made an "OK" sign at Jane.
The trash truck arrived a moment later. The big, ugly blue machine came slowly, belching black fumes and making a clanking racket. Two trash collectors, who had been clinging to the sides, jumped down and headed for the recycle bins. Mel spoke to them. They shook theirheads. He spoke again. One of them made to pick up a bin, but Mel stepped in front of him. The driver climbed down and marched over, beefy hands on hips.
Jane and Shelley started to move down the block to get close enough to hear. Mel pulled out a badge. The driver kept arguing and tried to pick up a bin. The other officer tried to stop him. There was a short tussle and the trash driver got back in the truck, making an obscene gesture. The truck moved on.
Mel called to Jane. She and Shelley nearly ran to his summons.