Half Past Mourning

by Fleeta Cunningham

  “Not as far as you think, Peter.” She pointed to the winding road outside the gates of the golf club. “That road runs along the back side of the museum. You don’t notice it because it comes up behind the paint shop, so it’s not really convenient if you’re coming from town, but if we take it from here, we’ll be back at Uncle Eldon’s in about forty minutes. We can take the Princess home, get her tucked into her private suite, and take my woody back to town. Take us an hour, at most. Maybe less, this time of evening.”

  “We’re that close to the museum?” Peter clambered into the passenger side of the car. “I must have lost all sense of location with all the twists and turns we went through today.”

  Nina started the car and turned on the headlights. “Easy to do when you haven’t spent a lot of time cruising through the hills. I grew up out here, and I still get turned around from time to time. When we were chasing around through the byways this afternoon, I wasn’t too sure where I was, either. Didn’t get straightened out till I saw the club road. Then I knew we could get the car back to the shop in no time at all.” She laughed, feeling euphoric and lightheaded. “And going back with the best prize of all. A perfect score and the Rambler. That’s better than even Uncle Eldon dreamed. What a day!”

  The night had cooled, and a shimmer of stars lit the summer sky. Nina’s light dress rippled in the soft breeze. She looked over at Peter. “Did you enjoy your day? Want to do another rally?”

  His chuckle matched her happy mood. “Do another rally? Oh, I’d do another one tomorrow—well, maybe not till next week—but I’m ready to sign on for the next Lassiter team event. Only next time, I want to drive. You navigate. And I want to try it in the T-Bird. I think I could get addicted to chasing down plaster geese and old barns. I got hot, there was grit in my teeth, it was a long way between rest stops, and I never had more fun. What about you? Are you game to try it again but change places with me?”

  “Give me a day’s notice, and I’m your man.” Nina stretched behind the wheel, now feeling a little stiff and weary from handling the demanding car over a challenging course.

  “Nope, you’re my girl, and that’s that,” Peter assured her. “And once we’re back at your place, I plan to spend at least a little time making sure you remember it.”

  A tiny shiver of excitement brushed Nina’s heart. “I just might enjoy that class, Professor.”

  “So will I.” A tightness in Peter’s tone suggested he felt some of the same anticipation.

  At an unexpected intersection, Nina turned the big car onto a narrow road. “The museum is only a couple of miles from here.” The silky darkness seemed endless; not a light glowed anywhere along the way. A little moonlight and the dusting of stars gave shapes to the expanse of empty countryside. Only the tunnel of light fanning out from the Isotta’s headlights relieved the black road.

  “You’ll want to tell your uncle about the trophy right away. Will he be up?”

  Nina nodded, then realized Peter probably couldn’t see her in the darkness. “He should be. I doubt he’d go to bed before he heard how we did. Maybe I should have looked for a phone at the club and given him a call.” She reconsidered. “No, I want to see his face when we hand him the trophy. A call just wouldn’t be as good.”

  “No, it wouldn’t be the same. I bet he’ll think it was worth the wait.”

  Intent on getting the car and trophy safely back to the museum, Nina didn’t reply but concentrated on the dark road. She didn’t drive this way too often, but she was confident she would see the lane that led into the back of the property, though the entrance wasn’t marked. The car purred through the night, almost as silent as the countryside it passed.

  At last she saw a faint gleam in the distance. “That’s the light from the paint shop,” she told Peter. “Ron must be putting in some late hours. I know he’s planning to go see his parents this weekend, but he must be finishing up some job before he goes.”

  As they drew nearer, the light grew and spilled out onto the apron of concrete that surrounded the shop. The shadow of a car blocked some of the light, creating an inky mass at the edge of the lit area.

  “Must be one of his private jobs,” she surmised. “Ron paints decorative graphics and company names or logos on commission. He’s a true artist when it comes to putting flames on a hot rod or some kind of advertising on a panel van. Uncle Eldon lets him use the paint shop after hours, and he has a steady stream of clients wanting his special touch.”

  “He’s your secret admirer? The fellow you told me about the other day? Wants to marry you and take care of you and your uncle now that Danny’s out of the picture?”

  Nina felt her face grow warm and was glad Peter couldn’t see her. She was still uncomfortable with Ron’s declaration and hoped she wouldn’t run into him for a while. “Yes, that was Ron. He’s thinking of leaving here, and I think it might be best if he does.”

  “Get no argument on that from me.” Peter’s hand felt warm on her bare shoulder, and she tilted her head a bit so her cheek brushed the back of his fingers.

  The boxy darker shadows of the office and museum building became solid against the night sky. Nina saw no light coming from the windows but suspected her uncle would be waiting in the shop at the back of the museum. It had no windows, only the wide doors that opened onto the parking lot and faced the other way.

  Skirting the apron of the paint shop, she followed the curving drive, intending to circle through the parking area where Peter had practiced his driving skills and wind up at the wide shop doors. Watching for the low curbs that banked the area, she paid little attention to the building beside the drive.

  “Hold it, Nina!” Peter’s sharp tone made her hit the brake hard.

  “What? Was there something in the road?”

  “Start driving.” Peter looked back, then covered her hand on the steering wheel with his own. “Nina, I want you to get this car over to your uncle’s shop as quick as you can without being obvious. Just pick up a little speed, not enough to draw attention, but get moving and get us inside.”

  Too startled by the iron in his tone to argue, Nina increased her speed little by little. As they neared the shop doors, she risked a look at Peter. His face in the faint light was grim, lips tight and thin, and the hand on her arm was rigid with tension.

  Keeping her voice low, Nina asked, “What is it, Peter? You saw something back there, didn’t you?”

  “If I can trust my eyes, sweetheart, I saw your county judge’s Corvette. It was sitting in that patch of shadows to the side of the paint shop.”

  “You’re sure? I mean, in the dark, your eyes might have been fooled. It could have been another car, or a trick of the shadows that made it look like a ’Vette. Or Ron could be painting another Corvette for someone. Couldn’t he?”

  “I hope you’re right, but somehow...no, some things just came together in my head, Nina. I think we’d better get to your uncle’s office and make a call to the sheriff.”

  “Ron? You think Ron’s involved in the car thefts?” Nina refused to accept the idea. “I’m sure he’s not; he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t take advantage of my uncle like that. They’ve been together since Ron was just a kid. You have to be wrong, Peter.”

  “I’d like to be, Nina, but I think we’d better call the sheriff and let him take a look at that car back there beside the shop. I’ll apologize if I’ve misjudged the man, but I want to know I’m wrong before I do.”

  Nina pulled the car up to the great doors of the shop. Her headlights showed the doors stood open, waiting, it seemed, for the Lassiter team to come home and tell of the day’s events.

  “Wait...” Peter began, but Nina had already eased the big car through the doors.

  “The bay where Uncle Eldon keeps the Princess is right here,” she answered. “I can roll her right in, and then we can go call the sheriff. Uncle Eldon’s office is just up the hall, and there’s a phone in there. It’s the closest one.”

  The bay was arranged s
o the car could be locked inside the bay, like a private chamber for the royal inhabitant, behind closed doors. The sliding door stood open, though the ceiling lights that usually spilled brilliance over the area were off. The glare from the car’s headlights washed the room in white, and Nina eased the car into its berth.

  “Home safe and dry,” she told Peter. Glad to be free of the constant vigilance she’d given the car for the last two days, Nina clicked off the lights, popped open the door, and slid out. She heard Peter doing the same, though she couldn’t see him.

  “Can we get some light in here?” he asked. “It’s as dark as old pharaoh’s tomb.”

  Nina inched her way to the doorway, where she knew she’d find a light switch for the overhead lights. She groped for the switch, pressed it, but no light filled the room.

  “The fuse must have died,” she called. “I can get to the lights in the shop. That’s a different circuit. Hold on.” Though her night vision was good, she still found it slow going to cross the shop, avoiding the shadowy obstacles in her way.

  With much sidestepping, and cursing her failure to change back to her driving shoes, she made her way to the hall that led to her uncle’s office. The panel of switches would be just inside the door, she reminded herself. With one hand on the doorframe for balance, she ran her fingertips along the wall, searching for the light switch.

  Out of the darkness an unseen hand suddenly caught her arm. Pain swamped her as a forceful hand bent it behind her back. A second hand clapped across her mouth, smothering her surprised outcry.

  “Keep quiet.” The weight of a man pressing her against the doorframe effectively immobilized her. Nina’s struggles to free herself were futile.

  While she flailed with her free hand, striking out blindly with the sharp heel of her shoe, her attacker, largely ignoring her attempt to loosen his hold, captured her free hand, held both wrists behind her back, and stuffed a wad of cloth in her mouth. “Wish you hadn’t come home so early, Nina. You and your family, just like Danny, always turn up where you can get in the way. Eldon Lassiter couldn’t stay out of my business. You and that nosy professor came in a little too early, as well. I guess I’ve got to improvise again, but that’s okay. Dealing with Danny gave me some practice.”

  Chapter 20

  Peter waited in the darkened bay for what seemed far too long. Nina must be having trouble with the lights. Maybe there was a power failure out here. Maybe something’s happened to her uncle. If she could use some help, she’ll never ask for it. He took a cautious step, feeling his way in the foreign surroundings till his outstretched fingertips reached a barrier and he recognized the rough texture of a plastered wall. By keeping one hand on the wall and feeling ahead before taking each step, he came to the doorway.

  “Nina?” he called. “Need a hand out here?”

  The lights flashed on in a blinding blaze of white. Peter threw up his hands to shield his eyes.

  “Just turn around and walk back inside,” a voice behind him commanded. His unseen companion emphasized his order by pushing something firmly into the hollow of Peter’s back. “That’s a gun, buddy. Just do what I tell you.”

  “Where’s Nina?” Peter demanded, still blinded and not moving.

  “With her uncle,” came the answer. “They’re all right for now, but that could change if you give me trouble.”

  Though his vision was clearing, the thundering heartbeat in his chest froze Peter for another second. Nina! Lassiter! A wave of physical pain filled him at the thought of the girl he loved and her helpless uncle at the mercy of a man with a gun. He tried to turn, to face the threat behind him. A blow just above his elbow sent a bolt of white lightning through him.

  “None of that. Do what I tell you. Get back inside.”

  Stunned, and raging at his own impotence, Peter reeled. Through a half-conscious fog, he recognized the only way he could help Nina and her uncle was to stay on his feet, able to strike back at any opportunity. Even as he thought it, that possibility slipped away. The force of a push from behind sent him stumbling into the enclosed bay. He staggered, falling to his knees. The light linen ripped and rough concrete ground into his skin. Before he could rise, his attacker pushed a foot into the center of Peter’s back, holding him down while dragging his wrists forward and wrapping a length of cord around them. Hauling Peter to his feet, the stranger shoved him further into the bay. Off balance, Peter lurched into a wall.

  “Stand up,” the man ordered, encouraging compliance with a sharp nudge from the weapon digging into Peter’s side. Peter stood, disoriented but upright. Before he appreciated what the man intended, his hands were yanked above his head by the cord wrapped around them. Comprehending what was in the man’s mind, Peter lashed out with his good elbow. A sharp kick to his abraded knee sent red shock waves through his body.

  “Don’t try it,” the voice beside him commanded. “I still have Nina and Lassiter.” Peter, not recovered from the blaze in his knee, struggled but couldn’t escape. The cord around his wrists tightened as it was wrapped around a sturdy pipe above his head. With infuriating ease, his captor twisted the cord around Peter’s hands again and tied it, leaving him dangling, furious but helpless. “That should hold you till I get the other two in here.”

  Peter writhed in ineffective wrath as his captor withdrew. He could hear the man’s thudding footsteps grow fainter on the concrete floor of the cavernous shop. Pulling on the cord, he found, resulted in tighter knots and more pain. Reaching up as high as he could eased the strain on his arms but wasn’t a posture he could maintain for very long. He twisted around, looking for an object, a stool, a box, anything he could stand on to ease the stress, but he found nothing. As he rotated to search the other direction, he heard the soft whisper of the wheelchair and steps returning.

  “Brought you some company.” The blithe tone suggested a genial host bringing guests together. The wheelchair rolled across the room, its occupant slumped in a loose-boned mass, oblivious to the danger surrounding him.

  “Eldon? Are you all right?” Peter’s internal alarms went off as the figure in the chair stayed motionless and silent. Lassiter’s withered feet dangled between the footrests like slack wires.

  The man behind the chair snorted. “He’ll be fine in a while—or maybe not.” The wheels scraped on the floor as they turned. “He got a little extra dose of his sleeping medicine tonight. It dissolves nicely in a late-night cup of coffee when somebody suggests a couple of cinnamon buns as an evening snack. He should wake up in a while…if I didn’t lose count of the pills. Can’t be sure how some people react to that sort of thing. Told him to stay away from the paint shop. He could get hurt out there. He didn’t listen. Too bad his lap dog Tinker didn’t stay around tonight and keep him out of my way.”

  The callous tone infuriated Peter further, and he lost all sense of caution. “What do you have against a helpless man, a man who gave you the chance to make something of your useless life, Reeves? You’d be serving time at Huntsville if this man hadn’t gone to bat for you.”

  “You know me, do you, Professor? Well, that can’t be helped at this point, I guess.” He shrugged and pushed the wheelchair as far from Peter as the room permitted. “The old man came out snooping and saw the Corvette. Thought I had him convinced it was a different car, not the judge’s little toy, but I couldn’t be sure. Can’t leave him to think it over and get suspicious, now can I? Snoopy old man always did ask too many questions,” Reeves muttered as he left his captives alone.

  “Eldon!” Peter called to the shape across the room, “Can you hear me?” He thought he saw a bit of movement, a stirring or shifting.

  “Hear you,” came the mumbled answer.

  A scuffling, dragging sound came from outside the room. A snarl and the sound of flesh striking flesh followed.

  “Always knew you were a wild one.” The man’s voice grated, and his breath came in labored grunts. Dark moving shapes shifted in the doorway beyond the light. “Brought your girlfrie
nd to keep you company, Shayne. Somebody should have slapped some manners into the little witch before now. If she’d married me, we could have avoided all this. But no, she thought she was too good for that. Should have taken the offer I made her.”

  Peter heard Nina’s muffled tones and knew the man must have gagged her to keep her from warning him. A moment later Reeves appeared at the doorway with a scrabbling, scratching, kicking Nina struggling in his arms. Her bound hands and the ugly bruise marring her cheek told the story.

  “If you’ve hurt her...” Peter began.

  “Less than she hurt me, with those heels and claws,” Reeves snapped. “She was in the broom closet. Maybe I should have done something a little firmer to corral her temper.”

  Ignoring the pain wrenching his arms, Peter tried to kick out as Reeves came closer. He made no contact. The man went about his business, ignoring his male captives and dodging wicked high heels as he bound Nina, her arms stretched high, toes above the floor, to an overhanging duct.

  Peter was stricken to see Nina, her eyes wide with a combination of terror and sheer fury, her skirt ripped from the waist in two places, bound and helplessly hanging by her wrists from the fat tube over her head. Eldon Lassiter lolled in his chair, both arms bound, head rolled to the side as if his brief moment of consciousness had faded.

  Reeves glanced around in satisfaction. “Guess it’s about time for me to hit the road. Just a couple of details to finish up here.”

  With no further explanation, he ambled over to the Isotta, thumbed at a smear of road dust on the body, then opened the door and climbed in.

  “You aren’t taking that car! You’d be a fool to do that,” Peter exclaimed. “You couldn’t get far enough away to keep from getting caught in something so easy to spot!”

  Reeves gave him an amused glance. “Isn’t it the damn truth? Best piece of work I ever saw, worth enough to keep a king for a lifetime, and I’ve gotta leave it behind. But it’s going to serve a purpose. Keep the law off my tail till I can get out of the country.”