Murder Can Haunt Your Handiwork

by Rose Pressey

  “Right. I’d almost forgotten.” I picked up my purse.

  “How could you forget something as important as that?” Mr. Vanderbilt shook his head.

  “Be a good boy while I’m gone, Van,” I said, kissing him on the forehead. “You be good, too, Mr. Vanderbilt. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye? This isn’t goodbye. I’m coming with you.” Mr. Vanderbilt followed me to the door.

  I groaned as I started down the stairs of my trailer. I was afraid he’d say that. Having him talking was distracting, and I’d have a hard time hiding that from Pierce. Speaking of Pierce, he was standing at the side of the trailer. He peered out over the open space toward the mansion. He had no idea that I was walking up behind him. Should I say something? I didn’t want to startle him. He still had no idea I’d approached, and I currently stood directly behind him.

  “Are you going to stand behind me and not speak?” Pierce asked as he turned around.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you knew I was here,” I said in shock.

  “He must have eyes in the back of his head,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “Another sign of a good detective.”

  We headed across the way toward Pierce’s new black Mustang. My dad would love this car. Pierce looked like a Mustang guy, while Caleb seemed like the boy next door in his pickup truck. I still couldn’t believe that Pierce and I would be working together. What would Caleb say when he found out? I knew he wouldn’t like the idea, considering he’d just told me I shouldn’t be involved in the investigation. I needed to ask Pierce more about why he had such a change of heart on that. Pierce and I got into his car and buckled our seat belts. Mr. Vanderbilt sat in the back seat.

  “I saw a great place around the corner,” Pierce said, starting the car.

  “I’m sure I’ll love it,” I said.

  What would we talk about on our drive and while we were eating? Would it be a conversation only about the investigation? Or would we discuss other things? I suppose I would just see where it went. Would Pierce want to talk about anything else? Would that make this a date?

  “Are you excited for the craft fair?” he asked. “Even though it definitely got off to a terrible start.”

  “Obviously, the murder was tragic, but to cancel would’ve been terrible for so many people who came from so far away to enjoy it,” I said.

  “Well, I’m excited to see your work,” he said.

  “And I can’t wait to see yours. You’ve been so secretive about it.”

  This conversation was easier than I thought. So maybe we wouldn’t only discuss the murder investigation. Oh no. What if this really was a date? Mr. Vanderbilt was being suspiciously quiet as he stared out the window. I got the impression he was pretending not to listen to us.

  “I’m just a little nervous about my work, and I don’t know the right time to show anyone,” he said.

  “I’m sure it’s great,” I said with a smile.

  Up ahead, I recognized a building. It was the one I had seen Deidre visit. The one where I had the confrontation with the stocky man. As we grew closer, I realized there was a sign out front. I couldn’t wait to see what it said.

  BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS ART GALLERY.

  Interesting. I knew for sure the sign hadn’t been there before.

  CHAPTER 13

  Travel Trailer Tip 13:

  Look for hidden nooks and crannies for extra

  storage space.

  “Can you stop the car?” I asked.

  Pierce eased off the gas pedal. “Sure. Is something wrong?”

  “Can you pull over right here?” I pointed toward the curb. “I need to check out this place.”

  “Oh no. Not this place again,” Mr. Vanderbilt said, finally speaking up. “I don’t like it here.”

  Pierce pulled over to the side of the road.

  “The art gallery here? If they’re open, we can go in,” Pierce said.

  “I’d like that,” I said. “I don’t think they’re open yet.”

  On the bottom of the large sign was a smaller, temporary one that read COMING SOON.

  “Well, hopefully they’ll be open before we leave town, and we can come back if you’d like,” he said.

  “Sure . . . I guess,” I said.

  “Is something bothering you? Are you sure everything’s all right?” Pierce asked.

  “Aren’t you going to tell him what happened here?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked. “That’s awfully deceptive of you.”

  “Well, it isn’t the art that makes me want to come back here,” I said.

  Mr. Vanderbilt tossed his hands up. “It’s about time you told him. Thank you!”

  He was being dramatic.

  “Really?” Pierce asked with a raised eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

  “I suppose since we’re doing this investigation together, I can tell you this.”

  “Go on,” Pierce said.

  “I followed a woman to this building. That sign wasn’t out here. She went inside with a man. And I just happened to sneak around the side of the building and listen in on their conversation.”

  “That’s not all,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “Don’t leave out any of the facts.”

  “Just happened to listen to their conversation, huh?” Pierce asked.

  “The man wasn’t happy with her. Actually, he even grabbed her, and she took off. He wanted something from her. He told her that she’d better have it soon. The worst part, though, was that the man caught me snooping.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “I ran around the side of the building. I was hoping to get back to my truck.”

  “And did you?” Pierce asked with anticipation.

  “Well, obviously,” I said with a chuckle.

  Pierce laughed. “Right, I see that, but what I meant is did you get back safely? Did he hurt you at all? I need to have a talk with him. Where can I find him? Do you know his name? What does he look like?”

  Pierce was full of questions.

  After describing the man, I said, “I wish I knew where to find him, other than here at this building. That’s why I want to come back when they’re open.”

  “Tell me exactly what the man said,” Pierce said.

  “I didn’t make it back to the truck without a confrontation with him, that’s for sure.”

  “What did he do?” Pierce asked.

  “He wanted to know what I was doing there, of course. I told him that I was searching for my dog. That Van had run off. Luckily, I had Van with me to back up that story.”

  “That’s a relief,” Pierce said. “But extremely dangerous.”

  Oh no. Was he changing his mind about working together on this?

  “He’s certainly right about it being dangerous,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  “Yes, it is dangerous, but I handled it just fine. The man was highly suspicious, to say the least. If he sees me back here again, he’ll know I was up to something.”

  “Well, I’ll be with you next time. I want to ask him some questions. Who’s the woman that was here talking to him, and why were you following her?”

  “Deidre Ashley. She’s a friend of the murdered woman. I got that information from someone who works at the mansion.”

  Pierce smiled. “Of course you did. The police probably haven’t even talked to her.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for,” I said with a wink.

  “I think this is a bad idea,” Mr. Vanderbilt said as he popped up from the back seat.

  He startled me with the sudden movement, and I jumped.

  “Is everything all right?” Pierce asked.

  I couldn’t explain that there was a ghost in the back seat who had just scared me. I had to come up with a logical explanation as to why I had that crazy reaction.

  I pointed straight ahead. “Oh, I thought I saw the man and that startled me, but it was just a shadow.”

  Pierce followed my pointing finger. “I guess you’re just antsy about talking about him again after what happened.”
<
br />   “Yes, that’s it exactly,” I said.

  “You should just tell him that I’m here,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  No way was I doing that. I had enough problems.

  Pierce moved the car’s gearshift into drive and said, “We should go ahead to the restaurant.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, giving the building one last glance before we pulled away.

  Since I had the name of the new art gallery, I could research online and find out who was responsible for it and if that was the same man who I had encountered here.

  We’d barely gotten away from the building when a red Corvette zipped out from a side entrance ahead of us. I caught a glimpse of the driver as he turned out onto the main road.

  “I’m pretty sure that was the man I encountered here,” I said, pointing at the car.

  “What?” Mr. Vanderbilt popped up from the back again.

  “Are you serious?” Pierce asked.

  “I’m almost positive,” I said.

  He pushed on the gas just to catch up with the car. We were right behind him.

  “Well, we’re going to follow him and see if we can get to the bottom of this,” Pierce said.

  “What should we do?” I asked as we rolled up to a stoplight.

  Pierce picked up his phone. “I know one thing I’m going to do.”

  Pierce touched the screen to place a call. He put the phone up to his ear.

  “I’m curious,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  He wasn’t the only one who wondered what Pierce was up to. I was still shocked that I’d spotted the man in his car.

  “I need some information on a license plate,” Pierce said to the person on the other end of the line.

  Wow, that was convenient. All he had to do was place a call.

  “I hope he finds information on this person,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  I would love to have a name. That would help us a lot. Maybe Pierce and I made a great team. However, I thought Caleb and I made a great team, too. I was so torn. I didn’t know what to think. I waited anxiously for Pierce to fill me in on the details of the call. In the meantime, I focused on the car ahead of us. I wondered if the man would recognize me if he saw me in his rearview mirror. We had been close to each other when he grabbed me. The light turned green, and we took off behind the Corvette.

  Pierce ended the call. “I got what I needed.”

  “What did you find out?” I asked with wide eyes in anticipation.

  “His name is Stan Knowles. I have the address, so if we happen to lose him, we can go to his house.”

  “Can you do that?” I asked. “You know, since this isn’t your investigation.”

  “Would you let that stop you?” he asked.

  “No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” I said with a sly smile.

  “Well, you have your answer.”

  “That is a nifty trick he has,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “All he has to do is talk into that contraption and get information he needs on the car in front of him. My, how times have changed.”

  Yes, they had changed, but some things never changed . . . like murder. And I was determined to figure out who had committed this horrific crime.

  “I suppose it’ll be kind of awkward just to go up to this man and ask why he was talking to Deidre Ashley. Especially considering we don’t know her,” I said.

  Pierce tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as we trailed the man’s car. “I have to think of something. You’re right, though. We can’t come right out and ask him questions about the woman, because he’ll freak out and not answer.”

  Mirroring Pierce’s movements, I drummed my fingers against the leather seat.

  “How about you ask him about the art gallery?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked as he leaned forward from the back seat again.

  “That’s a good idea,” I said, forgetting not to answer him in front of Pierce.

  Pierce raised an eyebrow. “What’s a good idea?”

  I chuckled. “I was thinking of a good idea in my head and forgot to say it out loud.”

  He laughed. “Well, all right, let’s hear it.”

  I would have to be more careful about what I said in front of Pierce if Mr. Vanderbilt was talking in my ear.

  “We can pretend to be interested in the art gallery. We can ask him some questions about the art. However . . .” I said. “The only problem is Stan Knowles already saw me, so I can’t exactly question him. He’ll be too suspicious if he sees me again.”

  “That’s true,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “I thought of that. I just forgot to say it.”

  “Therefore, you have to do this on your own,” I said.

  Jealousy set in. I wanted to question Stan and not let Pierce do it on his own. I wanted to be involved, though I had to realize that I couldn’t do everything. Unless I came up with a different plan, it would have to be this way. At this time, I had nothing else.

  “I suppose I could do that,” Pierce said. “But I’m not sure what I would ask about the art gallery. I’m not exactly an art expert. I’ve only just started working with my medium.”

  I sensed Pierce’s uneasiness at the thought of talking to Stan, but Pierce was a detective, and I assumed he would be just fine.

  Stan made a right turn. Pierce stayed back just a hair before making the turn, as well.

  “I hope he doesn’t realize we’re following him. But when we show up at his place, he might figure it out,” I said.

  “You guys are two of the greatest people I’ve ever known. You’re really going for this murder investigation,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  Stan made another left turn onto the street that was listed as his address.

  “This is the street you said, right?” I asked.

  “Yes, this is it,” Pierce said.

  Stan slowed down. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was nearing his house or whether he realized we were following him. Soon, he turned into a driveway for a large brick ranch.

  “I’m glad we had his address. Otherwise, there’s no telling whose house we would’ve arrived at,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  “He must live here,” I said.

  Pierce pulled the car up to the curb and shoved it into park. We watched as Stan got out of his car and headed toward the front door.

  “Do you have a plan?” I asked. We watched the man as he got out his keys and unlocked the front door.

  The shiny gold keychain caught the sunlight and glinted against the pavement.

  “Not really,” Pierce said. “I guess I’ll just wing it.”

  “That seems to be the best thing to me.”

  Pierce and I had another thing in common. That was the way I did things, too.

  “Winging it makes me nervous,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  Pierce shut off the car. “Okay, I’m going in. If I’m not out in a while, come for me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He chuckled. “No, of course I’ll come out. Actually, I am serious, if I don’t come out after a while, come for me or call the police for backup.”

  “I don’t like you joking like that,” I said.

  He handed me the keys.

  “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “In case we need a quick getaway. Perhaps you should get behind the wheel,” Pierce said.

  “What do you plan on doing in there?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  I took the keys reluctantly and watched as Pierce got out of the car and headed up the path toward the front door. I got out of the car, too, and then scrambled behind the steering wheel. Maybe this was more dangerous than I thought. It wasn’t as if we were robbing the house, so why did I have to be the getaway driver?

  Pierce reached the front door and rang the doorbell. It was a matter of seconds before the door opened and Stan Knowles was standing in front of Pierce. They talked, and Stan motioned for Pierce to step inside. This made me even more anxious.

  Pierce checked over his shoulder, and I wondered if that was some kind of signal. Did he want me
to save him? No, probably not. He walked inside, and Stan closed the door. That set off even more of a panic, because I couldn’t see what was going on in the house.

  “What do we do while we wait?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “We wait,” I said, fidgeting in the seat.

  “That seems kind of boring.”

  “Yes, it is boring, but it’s not as if we can leave,” I said.

  “Of course not, but maybe we can chitchat. You know, to take our minds off the anxiety.”

  “You can chitchat all you want, Mr. Vanderbilt, but I’m not sure how chatty I will be. When I get nervous, I tend to be quiet.” I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel.

  “Turn on the radio. Music would be good to lighten the mood,” he said.

  I flipped on the radio to the oldies station. We sat in silence as we watched the house. Ten minutes had gone by, and I wasn’t sure how long was too long to wait. Pierce hadn’t said an exact time to come for him. Was it ten minutes? Fifteen? Thirty, or an hour?

  Twenty minutes slipped by. And another ten. Thirty minutes was way too long with no sign of him. Maybe if I could just peek in a window, I wouldn’t have to knock on the door.

  I unbuckled my seat belt. “Okay, I’m going out there.”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “No, I’m not sure, but nevertheless, I have to do it.”

  I opened the car door and walked around to the front of the car. Mr. Vanderbilt joined me. Staring at the house, I wondered if I should go to the front door or maybe just check in one of the side windows. I assumed they probably had moved into the living room or the kitchen. Not knowing the layout of the house, I didn’t know where those rooms would be, but based on the window placement, I assumed the living room was to the left of the front door, and the kitchen would probably be in the back. I would take a peek in the front windows first. The blinds were open, but since it was light out, I wasn’t sure how much I would be able to see into the house from the outside.

  Like a cat burglar, I inched across the front lawn. Mr. Vanderbilt was behind me. When I reached the windows, I pressed my back against the brick wall of the house.

  “What are you waiting on?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “I have to mentally prepare myself,” I said. “On the count of three, I’m going to peek over into the window.”