Since she'd brought it up, I used the opportunity to learn as much as possible. “Why would they think Damien had anything to do with the accident?”
Belinda clarified that Damien had also argued with his father less than an hour before the horses took off. He'd tried one final time to convince Hiram to loan him the money but had been denied again publicly in front of several witnesses. “Damien left the horse stables and went for a drive to cool off. Since he grew up around horses and is an avid rider, the sheriff suggested he would've known exactly how to scare a horse to gallop away.”
I hadn't been privy to either fact. If Damien had been hovering near the haunted hayrides, he might've been the person to convince Lloyd Nickels' assistant to gather more straw before restarting his evening shift. While I didn't know Damien well, he didn't seem like a guy who'd stab his birthmother with a pitchfork. Even if he desired inheriting the money from his father, since he was Hiram Grey's eldest child, he wouldn't have engineered such an elaborate spectacle. Then again, since he was the son of Prudence Garibaldi, and we knew her family had acute psychological issues, could it be possible?
“Is there anyone who can provide him an alibi?” I needed to ask April if his fingerprints matched.
Belinda flicked her hand at me. “Of course not. There has to be another explanation. It's just not obvious who wanted to murder Hiram… unless….”
I waited for her to continue speaking, but she froze. “Did you remember something?”
“I suppose it's possible, but I can't be sure it was her,” Belinda nervously replied, her eyes deeply focused at a blank spot on the wall. “She could've returned and attempted revenge last night.”
Had Belinda recently seen Prudence before someone stabbed her to death? No one else knew that the victim wasn't Madam Zenya. April wouldn't want me to reveal the truth, but it seemed like Belinda might've already encountered a very much alive Prudence. If she had any potential theories or useful information, there might be a benefit to discussing the details of last night's incident.
“Are you referring to Prudence? Do you think that's who was involved last night?” I was vague and observed Belinda's reaction before admitting the truth.
Belinda gasped. “What? I don't understand. Prudence has been gone for fifty years. Is that whom the sheriff believes is responsible?”
“No, I didn't say that. I just meant… there's been so much talk about Prudence's disappearance, then we found Ian O'Malley's skeleton in Memorial Library, which was the last place anyone had seen Prudence. I thought you were implying you'd seen her recently.”
“No, only in those intense dreams I told you about.” Belinda cleared her throat. “I was referring to someone else entirely. She was at the festival yesterday, or at least I thought it was her.”
“Who?”
“Raelynn Trudeau. One of Hiram's former colleagues. She helped Hiram with transferring the Garibaldi house into Prudence's name after her parents died in that boating accident.”
It was the second time I worried about Raelynn being involved in Hiram's murder attempt. “I met her daughter, a professor on campus.”
Belinda's eyes widened. “Isn't that odd? We find Ian's body. Hiram has an accident. Someone killed Madam Zenya. Raelynn shows up in town. Much of the past is flooding forward again.”
“Did you know Raelynn fifty years ago?”
Belinda waved her hand back and forth like the needle of a scale unable to decide something's weight. “I met her several times before she dropped out of law school. Hiram and Raelynn worked together in their internships too, but she skipped town one day and never returned. Until now, I guess.”
“Do you have any reason to suspect Raelynn might want to harm Hiram?”
Belinda collapsed into her chair, fiddling with a stack of papers on her desk. “To be honest, I always thought something had been going on between her and Hiram. When I became Damien's nanny after Prudence disappeared, I asked him.”
“What did he say?”
“Oh, you know men, Kellan. You're one of them. I'm sure you'd give the same line he gave me.” Belinda blushed, hesitant to say anything further.
“Are you saying he denied it?”
“Raelynn was an attractive woman. It was a different time. I suspect Hiram might've been involved with her on the side, when Prudence lost touch with reality.” Belinda noted that once Hiram realized it wouldn't benefit his image, he'd likely broken it off with Raelynn and paid her to leave town.
“Why would she come back after all these years?” As soon as I asked, I recalled that Hope had said her mother was suffering from the beginnings of Alzheimer's disease. Often, patients remembered their distant past, or regressed to it. Could she have witnessed Hiram killing Ian fifty years ago? Maybe she remembered what had happened and returned with Prudence, to force Hiram to confess. Hope had said she was close to her auntie, and it'd previously crossed my mind that Raelynn was Prudence's half-sister. What if the two women had been blackmailing Hiram, and he tried to kill them both last night before being thrown off course by the runaway horse carriage? Then again, now that I knew Constance was the sister and that she'd died years ago, my theory didn't quite make sense.
“I wish I knew. My primary concern is protecting Damien right now.” Belinda confirmed that Hiram's other children had all been away for the week and couldn't have been involved in his attack.
“I agree with you. Weighing all the information I've compiled, Damien seems like the least obvious person who'd want to hurt his parent. I'll do my best to produce other options.” I left my response about Damien killing a parent vague, since Belinda wasn't aware that Prudence had been wearing the Madam Zenya costume.
“Pardon me, but I have a meeting with the guidance counselors. If you learn anything, please keep me posted. I'll do the same, Kellan. It's such a relief to be on the same side.”
After leaving the high school, I meandered across Braxton's Cambridge Lawn. Jane O'Malley called my name. Her grief, evident in the sorrowful gaze and a meek voice, was too obvious to ignore. “How're you and your grandmother doing? I've been meaning to stop by and visit Minnie this week.”
Jane briefly hugged me, then wrapped her arms around one of mine. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back and tied with a black ribbon, and she shivered slightly despite wearing a heavy cardigan over a dark wool dress. “Thank you, Kellan. Grandma's doing okay. Better than before Grandpa Ian's funeral service when she was uncertain of the current year. I think the news was too much of a shock for her to process at first.”
We walked up the stone steps toward St. Mary's together. “What about you? Anyone to support you through this tragedy?” I wasn't sure if she'd been dating anyone or was on her own.
Jane noted that she had a boyfriend, but they hadn't made their relationship public news. “We've only been together a brief time. We're still in those initial stages, only going on one or two dates a week. He's much older than me, more established. I foolishly compare my relationships to my grandparents' marriage. Nothing ever seems good enough. Ian and Minnie O'Malley were the talk of the town fifty years ago. Someday, I hope to find a husband as kind as he was to her.”
“You're a catch. I'm sure you will.” I squeezed her shoulder, contemplating whether she'd learned anything new in the last few days about the details of Ian's unfortunate demise. “How long were your grandparents together before he left for the war?”
“About four years, but they were one of those couples everyone admired. You should see the pictures of all the romantic dates he took Grandma on,” Jane replied, wiping a tear from under her eye as we stopped at St. Mary's front doors. “There are a few of these amazing picnics he planned in the library. He and Grandma worked there right after she graduated from Braxton.”
“Nana D talks about my grandpop in the same way. There's something touching about the way couples courted in the past. I'm scared we've lost that magic today.” I handed Jane a tissue and listened with sympathetic ears as s
he told me all about one picnic that Ian had arranged for Minnie.
“I still believe in love. You should too.” Jane patted her cheeks dry and tossed the tissue in the nearby trash container. “I've been wondering if Grandpa Ian went to the library to meet my grandma that day. He might've planned a surprise picnic for his return home. She always loved the library.”
My nose began to twitch. It'd been happening whenever I felt as if there was something important about to transpire or a clue I'd been missing all along. “Didn't Minnie tell everyone that Ian had contacted her the morning of the Vietnam War protest to reveal he had a surprise?”
Jane's head bobbed awkwardly. “She was confused. I don't know the whole story, but my uncle must remember it. They spent a lot of time with one another while my grandpa was in Vietnam. Grandma even convinced Uncle Elijah to follow his true calling to become a priest after his brother died. He'd been counseling his friends even before accepting the call. My uncle only finished his work at the seminary a few months after the fire, as far as I remember being told.”
After Jane exited to visit her uncle in St. Mary's, I leaned against the courtyard's retaining wall and processed what she'd just shared. It was the second time somebody had mentioned Father Elijah's life before he'd become a priest. It might be an important piece of the puzzle. After allowing a variety of mind-boggling scenarios to formulate in my mind, I saw Bartleby approach from the distance.
“I hoped we'd run into one another today, Kellan.” It'd been less than a day since his attack in my basement, but he looked remarkably well healed. How hard was his head?
“You seem in better shape today. I'm sorry for what happened. How are you out of the hospital already?” Although he'd technically broken into my house by not waiting for me to arrive, he had been injured on my property. The guilt weighed on me, despite the lies he'd been spewing beforehand.
“I checked out an hour ago. I don't like hospitals. I'm fine now. I got myself into that predicament, and now I'm much better.” He shifted onto the balls of his feet, swaying back and forth as if he had something to say but didn't want to bring it up. “I heard the news that someone killed Madam Zenya last night while I was attacked in your basement.” Bartleby's perplexed eyebrows knitted closer together, highlighting a plump fold of skin above his nose. “I'd like to talk with you about Prudence and Constance Garibaldi, but I need to handle something else first. I believe it's important you know the whole story.” His voice was docile but clear; it would be an important conversation.
“I could meet you tonight after I'm done with my final lecture. Will seven o'clock work?” I'd arranged with the mother of Emma's friend to play chauffeur for their gymnastics class this evening. She wouldn't arrive home until much later. Ulan was having a sleepover at my parents' house, as they'd volunteered to accompany him to a museum in Philadelphia for a school trip the following day.
“Don't tell anyone. I'll meet you at the house,” Bartleby directed as he left. What was he planning to reveal? April had stationed two officers on-site which meant we wouldn't be alone.
I couldn't address it now, as the cable car arrived to transport me to North Campus. Once it made the return trek, I meandered to the alumni building to drop off an article I'd written for their monthly magazine. As I left, Imogene Grey waved to me from the nearby parking lot. After waiting for her to reach the path, I learned she was scheduling a speaking engagement for her fiancé, Paul Dodd, who'd taken over this year as Braxton's Town Councilman. “Have you and Paul set a wedding date?”
“Next spring, June.” Imogene, a more petite version of Lara Bouvier, was just as beautiful as her mother but less confident and shyer. “My mother told me you've had some odd things happen at your new house.” The haunting melody of the wind chimes percolated inside my head.
I'd taught Imogene during a summer class and had once suspected the French-speaking ingénue to be a potential jewel thief and murderer. “Yes, she and I spoke about the former Garibaldi house. Lara and your father lived there for a few months before you were born.”
“Speaking of my father, he and I are supposed to meet here shortly. You haven't seen him, have you?” Imogene's innocent smile demonstrated the love she had for Damien.
“No, I just arrived. I overheard his argument with your grandfather at St. Mary's yesterday. Hiram's accident must have upset him.” I was curious if Imogene's reaction would provide any clues.
“We will visit Grandfather at the hospital tonight. I know they've been fighting a lot, but my father loves him very much. You know how families can be.” Imogene was cordial and matter of fact, hiding any potential hints or worry about her father's role in the haunted hayride incident. She loosened an orange silk scarf from around her neck and pursed her lips. “I should be going.”
“Please give my regards to Damien. I plan to visit Hiram sometime soon.” Could I ask Imogene about her father's need for investors or money, or would that come across too crass?
“I'm sure Grandfather would be glad to know you stopped by.” When Imogene pulled her hand from her pocket, a piece of paper floated out.
I reached and caught it before it flew away. While handing it to Imogene, I noticed it was a check written from Paul Dodd to Damien Grey for a considerable sum of money. My facial expression must've given away my surprise. “Pardon, I didn't mean to look at the details.”
“It's okay. That's why I am meeting Daddy. He's opening a new business, and since Grandfather wouldn't give him the money, Paul agreed to loan it to him.”
“That's generous of Paul, especially when Hiram has been such a louse. I overheard a few disagreements between him and your father recently. I can't imagine what possessed him to pour kerosene on Lloyd Nickels' hayride carriage.” I wasn't convinced Hiram was guilty, but now that he was in a coma after a second accident, my suspicions were growing.
Imogene gasped. “How did you know my father tried to get revenge on Lloyd? It was a stupid and foolish thing, but he was drinking too much. Grandfather promised he wouldn't tell anyone.”
“Did you just say Damien poured kerosene on the coach?” I couldn't have heard her correctly.
“Oh no! I misunderstood.” She glanced away, covering her lips and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “My father was angry when he thought they'd released Lloyd. He genuinely believed Lloyd had killed his biological mother. At least until the sheriff announced that the skeleton was Ian O'Malley.”
“While I understand your father's anger, he could've hurt someone badly. The horses could've gotten burned too.” Was Damien true to his namesake? I couldn't believe what Imogene had revealed.
“You're right, Kellan. It was an awful thing.” Imogene confirmed Damien had also broken the car window and written the word Murderer. “Thank you for considering a visit to my grandfather. Please don't tell anyone about my father's mistake. I promise he won't do anything dangerous again.”
“I'll think about it and get back to you soon. Take care, Imogene.” I was getting more curious about Damien's relationship with Hiram if he couldn't secure funding from his own father and had to ask his soon-to-be son-in-law. I'd never considered him as the potential vandal who'd left the threatening messages at the house. Given everyone had deemed him weak and quiet, I might have ignored several key signs showing otherwise. While he couldn't have been the one to kill Ian fifty years ago, there was a possibility he'd picked up where someone else had left off. Was he capable of attempting to murder his father and biological mother? Analyzing that situation would need to wait, as it was time to visit St. Mary's and collect as much information from Father Elijah as I could.
A volunteer in the main office confirmed that it was Minnie's day off and Father Elijah was meeting with a former parishioner. Mass had ended, and the woman had stayed afterward to talk to him. I informed the volunteer I'd wait for them to finish inside the nave of the church.
I passed through the vestibule and sat in a pew near the table of candles that people lit to say prayers f
or loved ones in need of support. I recalled many childhood days when I'd lined up next to my siblings, proud to see our parents participate in the Mass by giving readings or announcing the upcoming events at the church. Hampton and Penelope would torture Eleanor and me, while Gabriel ignored all of us and behaved perfectly. I hadn't been a little terror, but if I spoke truthfully, and since I was inside a place of worship, I'd admit I hadn't been an angel either. I saw a lot of me in Ulan and worried that he'd grown up without a mother. Uncle Zach did his best, yet it was clear Ulan craved more adult guidance.
When I thought Francesca had died in the car accident, I closed the door on finding love again. I'd always wanted another child, so Emma wouldn't be alone, but accepted she might be my only one. She was my absolute pride and joy, and if that's what God had in store for me, I'd make it work. In just a few days, on Halloween, I'd turn thirty-three. While April and I were smitten, it was too early to know whether it would blossom into anything serious. Even if it did, she had Augie to take care of, and by the time we both gave in to our feelings, we might be too old to consider having a child. April might not even want a son or daughter of her own. How did couples decide without getting overwhelmed?
I'd been lost in thought when two pairs of footsteps approached and knocked me back to reality. Father Elijah was one of the two people, but a column blocked my ability to see with whom he spoke. Father Elijah extended a hand toward the pews and waited for the other person to sit first. It was Raelynn Lawson. They sat in front of me, unaware I was only two rows away. Given the acoustics in the church, their voices carried just enough that I could overhear bits and pieces of their conversation.
Raelynn tensely said, “It's time I told the truth. People have been punished enough for my sins.”
Father Elijah replied, “God wants you to be happy. If you are ready to share this secret with everyone, then you should do it. Do not be hasty in your decision, my child.”
Haunted House Ghost: Death At The Fall Festival (Braxton Campus Mysteries Book 5) Page 20
