Hidden Entity

by Wendy Meadows

  Brenda felt Mac was close by. She finished her task and put her plan in place. She held up the straightened hanger and lifted her chin defiantly. “If you want the hanger, why don’t you just come for it, if you’re so quick on your feet?” She smiled, and just as Grady Fisher stormed toward her, Detective Rivers and his officers rushed into the room.

  Grady looked around, startled, and pushed Brenda aside. He turned the doorknob and realized it was locked. Fumbling to unlock it, he was too late. Mac swung him around and the knife flew from Grady’s hand. Brenda felt the surface nick on her ankle and tried not to wince. She joined one of the officers who freed Lauren. The panic stood visible on her face.

  “It’s all right now, Lauren. We have him, and he won’t hurt you or anyone again.”

  The frightened woman turned to watch as her father was handcuffed by several officers. “You don’t know him. He’s too clever. He could escape again from that hospital.” Her voice bordered on a whimper.

  “I don’t believe he’ll go to any hospital this time. There is nothing insane about him. Everything he has done has been thought out carefully and deliberately, even during his drunken rage when he killed your neighbor.”

  Mac yanked Grady Fisher to his feet. “Take him through the back way. We don’t want to disturb our guests again.” The two officers grasped the man in handcuffs and led him downstairs and out the back door to the waiting patrol car.

  Brenda breathed deeply and then made sure Lauren was in good hands.

  Clive Wilson sat in the enclosed back porch with his good friend William Pendleton. They watched the continuing scene in the rear driveway, the wild-haired man being guided into the police vehicle, which drove off without any lights or sirens.

  “It looks like they got him,” William said.

  “I wonder why he stuck around inside the bed and breakfast?” Clive mused.

  “There are plenty of places to hide in this big place. He had a reason. I reckon we’ll find out soon enough. Brenda always fills Phyllis in on crimes she and Mac work on. We’ll make sure we’re right there when the story is told.”

  Clive relaxed. In spite of the gruesome murder of a guest, he somehow found it fitting that the whole thing happened at the spookiest time of the year, and with secret passages to boot.

  “I do feel very badly about young Ryan Meyers. I wonder what that other man had against someone like him?” Clive said.

  “I heard Brenda mention she thought the killer made the wrong choice.”

  “Do you mean he meant to kill the lovely young woman?”

  William shook his head solemnly. He smiled up at his wife who joined them. She had a coffee pot in her hand and refilled their cups.

  “It’s just terrible to think that murderer was hanging around here during the nice party. Who knows how long he was lurking back there? I wonder what he was doing all that time.” Phyllis noticed Brenda coming in from the back door, watching as the squad car drove off. “Is that blood trickling from Brenda’s ankle?” Phyllis said, aghast. She didn’t wait for an answer and rushed to Brenda’s side.

  “I’m fine, Phyllis. It’s quite a story, wait until you hear…I’m fine now, just shaken a bit.”

  “You’re bleeding, Brenda,” Phyllis protested. She stooped down to get a better look. “What happened to your ankle?”

  “Grady’s knife hit me when he was disarmed. Total accident.”

  “Who is Grady? Oh no, Brenda, you didn’t try to confront the killer on your own?”

  Brenda gave her friend a few spotty details and tried to reassure her, promising the full narrative once things settled down. Chef Pierre came out to the porch, hearing the commotion. He wiped his hands on his white apron and looked concerned.

  “Don’t tell me you got lost in that hidden passageway, Brenda. Wait, what’s wrong with your ankle? I’ll get a bandage for you.”

  Phyllis pulled on Brenda’s arm. “There will be no waiting. You march over here and sit down while we get you cleaned up and you tell us exactly what is going on.” Pierre returned with a warm cloth and a package of bandages. Brenda thanked him, and Phyllis helped her clean and take care of her wound. “Come on, Brenda. Tell us everything. I want to know what’s going on with this so-called hidden passageway and who this mysterious Grady might be.”

  “I have to get back to Lauren very soon, but I suppose I can give you a few details.” Brenda told them briefly of her two encounters with the killer. They were all mesmerized with the story of the hidden passageway behind the walls. “He seemed to be a very sick man. That’s all I can say for certain. I can’t give more details right now—not until the investigation is finished, or at least farther along. For now, all of you must keep this news to yourselves. I promise more soon.”

  When she returned to check on Lauren, she saw that the young woman had finally begun to relax.

  “I need to be with normal people again, Brenda. I’d like to go down to the sitting room. It’s time for afternoon refreshments, isn’t it?” Brenda reminded her gently that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Lauren insisted on going down, saying that refreshments with people around her would be a good antidote to the stress and the trauma of the long day.

  A somber mood descended on the sitting room when Lauren entered, but Grace Mitchell and Karina Harris each hugged Lauren and expressed sympathy at the loss of her husband. Lauren thanked them and said she simply desired to enjoy some company. Clive, Phyllis and William joined them. They had been warned to keep conversation light, avoiding the topic of Lauren’s ordeal. Phyllis poured Lauren a cup of chamomile tea to calm her nerves, but the woman only took a few sips before becoming distracted by the view out the windows to the Atlantic Ocean.

  “We’re going to take a walk down along the beach,” Karina offered. “If anyone wants to breathe that wonderful salt air, feel free to join us.” Lauren volunteered first.

  8

  Jolene King caught up with Lauren and Karina on the beach as they strolled among the swaying dune grasses down to the sand and the waves. She placed her arm around Lauren and pulled her close. “I’m so sorry for everything, Lauren. I know you thought me rude for asking about your connection with Seth Hill all those years ago…but I wanted to let you know, I’ve been thinking about him and I have something to say. He must have been a weak man to have caved in to his mother and abandoned you so heartlessly. He has no idea what a strong woman you are.”

  For the first time in years, Lauren felt no pang in her heart at the mention of Seth Hill’s name. She only smiled slightly at Jolene, musing, “Perhaps you’re right. All I know is that Ryan was the one for me all along.” She tilted her head upward and breathed the fresh air. “I still have trouble thinking about my father as a murderer. For so long I suspected, but now I know the truth. He’s vicious. He must have been happy to know I lost Seth due to his own reputation in the years after he went to the mental hospital. I’m sure it gave him great satisfaction. It’s sad to think he wanted me to suffer as much as possible.” She fought tears back. “I suppose what makes me the saddest is how much Ryan will miss out on. He’ll never be the star performer he longed to be.”

  “Ryan showed a lot of talent,” Jolene said. She thought from Lauren’s conversation that perhaps it was cathartic to talk of her great loss. “Did he mean to go on stage one day?”

  “I think he liked the idea of live performance, though he dreamed of one day being great, even being a movie star. His dreams were so vivid, even though he never took many steps toward them. I think he actually enjoyed the dream more than trying to make it a reality.” She smiled through tears. “He was a real ham, wasn’t he?”

  Karina and Jolene laughed and agreed. “You know what would do you good, Lauren? A good old-fashioned dunking in the clean salt water of the ocean to help cleanse away your tears. We should go back and get our swimsuits,” Jolene said.

  Marcus came up behind them, picking his way carefully through the sand. “It is in the lower fifties, Jolene. No one swims
this time of year.”

  “I know it, but it would be so romantic...” Jolene remained caught up in her vision, though Karina laughed it off, agreeing with Marcus. Lauren walked along the beach, thinking privately that her tears were enough salt for her that day, and was glad when Marcus finally succeeded in getting his wife to forget about the crazy plan.

  Brenda was glad for the hundredth time that her guests took Lauren under their wings. She returned to the issue at hand. Lauren had given her the name of an older brother of Ryan’s. It seemed he was the only one in his family who remained close to her husband. Brenda headed for the police station to join Mac so they could listen to the call together in his office.

  As they both stood over the phone on speaker at Mac’s desk, she placed the call to John Meyers to give him the tragic news. After he got over his initial shock, John asked a number of questions, including specific questions regarding the killer. Brenda attempted to calm him down when he spoke his next words.

  “If I had known Ryan was marrying the daughter of a killer, I would have stepped in. Did he know his wife’s father was a murderer? She should have told him. My poor brother. I’m sure if he killed this time, he has probably done it before.”

  “I’m sure any ongoing investigations will look for connections to the suspect, if there are any, but I don’t know details like that. Lauren needs all the support you can give her right now. Do it for Ryan’s sake. They were deeply in love, and that should be enough for you.”

  After Brenda ended the call, she turned to Mac, who was leaning in the doorway to the office. “Weren’t you a little harsh with him, Brenda?”

  “I suppose I was, to a certain extent, but it angers me that people blame her for her father’s actions. That shouldn’t happen. She can’t control what her father does. Was she supposed to live a friendless, loveless life just because her father was criminally insane? Everyone could see how much in love they were.”

  The detective decided to change the subject. “Grady Fisher is waiting in the interrogation room. Will you join us?” Brenda readily agreed and followed Mac to the room. She had seen the arrest papers and saw the man was fifty-one years old. Chief Bob Ingram stood looking through the one-way mirror as the session began.

  “You harbored a poisonous dose of anger inside you to do a thing like this,” Mac said. “Why would you want to hunt down and kill your own daughter?” Mac waved his hand to stop the man when he started to give his pat answer. “I know all about her turning you into the police all those years ago. Spare me. I know that her testimony wasn’t what put you in the loony bin. You got yourself there. From all reports, the police had plenty of evidence against you without her.”

  His demeanor shifted and became agitated, redness creeping up his wrinkled neck as he squinted angrily at the detective. “How dare you! You don’t know me! How can you understand—” The clanking of ankle and wrist cuffs stopped him from standing up and flailing his arms around. Brenda and Mac leaned back and watched the pathetic show. It was then it seemed to dawn on Grady that Brenda was one of the interrogators.

  “What are you doing in here? I’ve never known an owner of an establishment to interrogate suspects.”

  “Brenda is also an officer of the law in Sweetfern Harbor. Sit down and answer the question. Why did you try to kill your own daughter?”

  Grady hesitated. His shoulders slumped, and he sagged against the back of the chair. His head lolled back on his neck for a second before he straightened a little, looking a bit saner than before. He seemed to consider for a second before starting again in a reasonable tone of voice. “Lauren was always a good kid. We were a happy family…until she killed her mother, my poor wife...” Mac stopped him again, slamming a hand down on the table angrily.

  “She didn’t kill your wife. She lost her mother that day. She was a child! She lost as much as you did, if not more, the day your wife had that accident. Lauren lost a mother, but she also lost her father’s love that day, thanks to your way of twisting everything around. Get your head right! When do you plan to start blaming Grady Fisher?”

  “I want my lawyer.”

  Once Grady was back in his cell, Mac took a deep breath and he and Brenda spoke with Chief Ingram. “We need to get the judge on this right away. Once his lawyer gets here, he’ll try to get him back to the mental hospital,” Brenda said.

  “Maybe that’s where he should be,” Bob said. Brenda shook her head vigorously. She told the chief everything that had happened at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast in minute detail.

  “I think he’s a master of deception. He played the courts the first time. We can’t let him play the courts again a second time.”

  “All right, I’ll contact the judge right away,” the chief said.

  “There is plenty of evidence against him for the charge of murder,” Brenda said, “But the judge might be even more convinced if we can just get one more thing. Do you think we can get a handwriting sample from him?” She explained the note, and Mac quickly left to retrieve the crumpled paper from the evidence box. “We’re sure this note was written and left in the deceased’s room by Grady Fisher,” Brenda said. The chief read it and agreed they should proceed.

  Back in Mac’s office, Brenda sat deep in thought. “What’s on your mind now, Brenda?”

  “Something’s bothering me. I have a sneaking suspicion that Grady killed the person he intended to kill.”

  “Where did that come from?” Mac said.

  “Something Grady said to me when I found him that first time in the concealed passageway. He said he had very good eyesight. He said he had eyes like a cat, in fact—and that hall was so dark I could barely make out his features. So surely Grady knew it wasn’t Lauren he bent over. I think he absolutely meant to kill Ryan and succeeded in that mission. The whole thing about trying to kill Lauren was fake—it was just play-acting. I’m not so sure he meant to kill her when he tied her up, either. It was all for show.”

  “What did he have against Ryan Meyers?”

  “That’s what I plan to find out.” The detective had no doubts his wife would get to the bottom of this new, strange twist. Her eyes were already alight with energy as she said, “First of all, I’m going to research all I can about Seth Hill,” Brenda said. “There might be a connection. What I know so far is that he comes from a very wealthy family. Perhaps there’s a connection between him and Grady.”

  This time Mac failed to keep the laughter from his voice. “Grady Fisher was not a wealthy man, Brenda. As I understand it, he was a day laborer and went from job to job. Lauren grew up in a very working-class kind of household. That tells me he came across as…rough to a lot of people even before he started lurking with knives in secret passageways. I’m sure he had few friends before he ever killed his neighbor.”

  “You could be right about all of that, Mac. Perhaps Grady worked for the Hill family? I don’t know. But I promise you I will find something explaining why he aimed for Ryan Meyers and not his daughter.”

  Mac knew to give her full rein, but he still doubted Grady Fisher was connected with Seth Hill, or Ryan Meyers, for that matter. Every time he had talked with the suspect, Grady merely repeated his calls for a lawyer, and while he waited, he certainly didn’t let up on blaming his daughter for everything that had gone wrong in his life.

  Brenda left the police station and drove to their cottage. She settled at her laptop while the water in the teakettle heated up. A good cup of tea by her side, Brenda settled in for a good search into the background of the Hill family. She discovered that Seth’s family was wealthier than she had assumed. They were quite well known in the area where Lauren and Seth had grown up, contributing to many social and artistic causes and charities and appearing in the society pages frequently. Seth had one sibling, an older married sister who now lived in Europe. His parents did not seem to work and the more she read about their money, the more she realized that perhaps they were the type of people who had inherited quite a bit of money. The Hill
parents remained very active socially, chairing gala events and hosting fundraising dinners for various town causes. Meanwhile, Seth carried on his father’s real estate development business. Brenda spent several unsuccessful hours searching for any public records that might link Grady Fisher’s name to the wealthy Hill family, but found nothing.

  “Perhaps there are no records,” she mused. “What if he was paid under the table, cash only? That might explain why there’s nothing listed anywhere,” she said aloud. Brenda paged through real estate records for the Hill family house, which certainly qualified as a mansion. It sat on twenty acres and was featured in a fancy photo shoot in a local magazine and an article all about the Hills’ modest art collection and beautiful rose garden. Surely an estate of that size would have had dozens, if not hundreds, of laborers over the years.

  She called Mac. “What else do you have for background history on Grady?”

  “We don’t have much. I take it you haven’t found his name on the same page as Seth Hill’s?”

  She ignored the smile she heard in his voice. “I’m going to talk with Lauren again. Maybe all my answers are right here at the bed and breakfast.”

  Brenda glanced at her watch. She had missed the afternoon get-together in the sitting room and discovered she was only fifteen minutes from dinnertime. A few of the guests, she knew, had checked out after giving statements and being cleared in the murder. The Kings, Clive Wilson, Karina Harris and Grace Mitchell were among those who would remain for another two days. Lauren Meyers asked to keep the apartment assigned to her for an extra day or two, which Brenda had told her was open for her needs for as long as she needed. She thought it best to wait until after dinner to have a long talk with Lauren about her life as a child.

  However, when Brenda stopped by to visit her, Lauren Meyers told her she planned to skip dinner. “I don’t have an appetite, Brenda. I was feeling so much better after a walk on the beach with some of my new friends I’ve met here—but now that I’ve been in my room alone, going through some of the funeral paperwork, the more it sinks in that Ryan is really gone.” Her eyes began to well up. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive my father for what he did.”