Chapter Ten

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Chapter Ten  

Janet walked in the door looking ten years younger.  

"Did you have a good time?" Ida Mae asked, glancing up from the dinner dishes she was washing. 

"I really did, Sister Babbitt. Thank you." Janet took off her coat and slung it over the back of a kitchen chair, completely heedless of the fact that Ida Mae had just cleaned the kitchen until it shone and the coat was the start of a whole new pile of mess. Ida Mae took a deep breath. Janet was tired. She would overlook the coat. 

"How were the children?" 

"Oh, we had a wonderful time. We played games, and they went to bed pretty easily." She hadn't repeated her mistake of getting down on the floor. She doubted her body would ever touch a floor again, unless she passed out and fell on it, which wasn't entirely out of the question, given how tired she was. "They are a frisky bunch, aren't they?" 

"Yes, they are. But every one of them is as good as gold." 

Ida Mae dried her hands on a dish towel, then carefully hung it on the oven door. "I put the leftovers in the fridge, and Sister Sylvester's book stack has been replenished. I even had Ren bring her some new movies to watch." 

"Thank you so much, Sister Babbitt. I don't know what we'd do without the Relief Society." 

Ida Mae didn't know either-but of one thing she was sure. If it weren't for the Relief Society, she wouldn't be facing a possible jail term. Well, she couldn't blame the Relief Society for that-she blamed Ren. She said good night, stuck her head in to tell Sister Sylvester goodbye, then went to meet that young man out by the Dunns' house. 

"So, I was thinking, is there any kind of alarm or something you could rig to warn us when someone is approaching the house?"  

Ren looked at her with new respect. "You've been giving this some thought, Auntie." 

"Well, I had a lot of time to think while I was waiting for Ethan Sylvester to let go of his sister's hair." 

"Did you tickle him in the armpits?" 

"I did. That child has a will of iron." 

"Let me think on it for a little while. We don't want something that would go off every single time someone went near the house-we'd be picking up any stray cat or doortodoor salesman, too." 

"What about another camera? A stronger one, posted outside." 

He stroked the faint stubble that grew along his jawline. He'd been working on it for several days and it hadn't changed a bit. She hated to tell him, but she sensed he already knew. He'd checked it out five times in the rearview mirror already and they'd only been parked an hour. 

"I'll think on that. It would have to be a lot stronger, you know, and . . ." 

His voice trailed off, and she could almost hear the gears in his head turning. He was a smart boy-she had no doubt he'd have a new invention to show her within the next day or two. 

Headlights appeared on the road behind them, and they tensed as a black Jaguar passed, then slowed to turn into the Dunns' driveway.  

"This is our chance," Ren said, opening his door. 

"Chance to do what?" 

"To really spy." 

What had they been doing up until that point? Ida Mae nearly asked the question, but Ren was already creeping through the woods, and she didn't want to be left behind. She got out too, closing her door softly, as he had done, and caught up to him.  

They edged through the trees until they came to the clearing where the shed stood. Sure enough, the black car was parked there, the driver waiting, still inside. He struck a match and lit up a cigarette, flicking the match out his window. Ida Mae could see the glow of the match as it hit the ground, then snuffed out. 

"Well, of all the-" she began, but Ren shushed her. 

"He could have started a forest fire!" she protested. "These trees aren't fake, you know." 

"You want him to hear you?" he hissed in her ear, and she shushed. 

A few minutes later, Nick came out of the house and crossed the hundred yards to the shed. Ren and Ida Mae moved farther back into the shadows. Her heart was beating so fast, it almost hurt.  

"I've got to be quick," Nick said. "My wife thinks I just came out to grab the mail." 

"And so you did." The man inside the car handed him an envelope. "Same as before, but with a little extra for good behavior." 

Nick took the envelope and turned it over in his hands. "Don't you think you could tell me what's going on now?" he asked. 

"The less you know, the better," the driver said. "Trust me. Go back inside." 

Nick turned and walked toward the house, pausing at the front to collect the real mail. Ren and Ida Mae stayed hidden until the car was long gone, just in case. 

Once back in Ren's car, Ida Mae took a deep breath. "That was something else," she said. "I thought for sure one of them was going to see us." 

"It's pitch black out here," Ren said. "They couldn't see a thing." 

She rummaged through the sack at their feet and pulled out an A&W. She felt a little better after taking a long gulp, although she was sure the carbonation wasn't doing a thing for her. Arlette would have something to say about it, but Arlette wasn't there. 

"Let's keep a chart of when the man in the black car comes," she suggested. "Maybe there's a pattern." 

"Good idea," Ren said. "Why don't you write down what we know so far, and I'll get to work on that long range camera." 

Before leaving, they watched the kitchen camera and listened to the bug to see if everything was all right. Nick didn't mention anything to his wife about the envelope.  

"He said he doesn't know what's going on," Ida Mae said as they pulled into their own driveway. "That makes me feel a little better. Maybe he's innocent." 

"He's not totally innocent," Ren said. "Even if he doesn't know exactly what's up, he's got to know that something is going on. He's an accomplice, either way." 

"I know." She sighed. "I just hate to think what will happen when all this comes out. Poor Mary. Poor children." 

"There's still a chance this is all just a big misunderstanding," Ren said.  

"Not likely. The man in the car reminded me of the Godfather." 

"Why?" 

"I don't know. He just did." 

Ida Mae pondered that question as she fell asleep that night. Just what was it about that man that reminded her of a mobster? She hit on the answer right before she fell asleep. The arm that held out the envelope was encased in a dark suit. That's what it was. Now, she realized it wasn't a crime to wear a suit, but late on a Thursday night? To a meeting in the woods? That was a little odd indeed. 

*** 

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