The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4)

by Sophia Martin

  Miguel rushed up to the window and bought all three tickets with a card. The woman who sold the tickets seemed inclined to try to chat but Miguel turned away from her before she was done talking. He shoved tickets and programs into Veronica and Posey’s hands and they were off again.

  The convention center was full of people. Red and green streamers lined the walls, with a wreath of fake pine every few yards. The entry hall was huge with a high ceiling, and a large Christmas tree covered in white lights and red plastic orbs dominated the center of it. A banner hung over the tree: “Let’s Save Christmas! Bought to You By the Sacramento Tea Party and Chamber of Commerce.” A few yards beyond the tree, through milling people, Veronica could make out a raised area with a manger. She saw men in robes and a woman with a blue veil on her head, and a real donkey, that started braying loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of the crowd.

  “They weren’t kidding about the live Nativity scene,” Veronica muttered.

  As the three of them got closer she saw that there were also two live sheep.

  The Nativity was fenced off from the crowd but the animals looked pretty unhappy. The donkey stamped, jerked its head up and down, and brayed again. The sheep shuffled away from the fence where eager children reached to touch them.

  Along the sides of this part of the hall there were food stands selling gyros, lemonade, pretzels, and ice cream. Veronica made a mental note to tell Melanie that pretzels and ice cream now counted as Biblical food.

  This way.

  Ariana’s voice startled Veronica, and then the tell-tale shimmer of a spirit showing itself to her appeared to the left. Veronica grabbed Miguel’s sleeve.

  “Ariana’s going to lead us!” Veronica said.

  Posey looked miserable but he followed them as Veronica pulled Miguel toward Ariana’s shade.

  “Can you see her?” Miguel asked.

  “Yeah, she’s right ahead of us,” Veronica said.

  It wasn’t easy weaving through the crowd, but after a couple of minutes they came to a set of tall double doors that led outside. Ariana guided them down stairs and across a park-like area to the Community Center Theater. Ariana’s shade dissipated.

  “This must be where the choir’s going to perform,” Miguel said.

  “The choir!” Veronica exclaimed. “What time is it?”

  Miguel blinked at her and started digging in his pocket for his phone.

  “It’s ten fifty,” Posey said, looking at the watch on his wrist.

  “That’s it,” Veronica breathed.

  “What?” said Miguel.

  “Bayer’s going to find a girl in the choir,” Veronica said. “Backstage. He’s doing a talk and a reading from his book, and the Bible, too.” She opened the program. “See! He’s on now. He’ll be done in ten minutes and then he’ll be back stage while the kids wait their turn at eleven thirty.”

  “With plenty of time to corner one of them,” Miguel said grimly.

  “We have to get back stage,” Veronica said.

  “How are we going to do that?” Miguel asked.

  Posey groaned. He pulled a shiny badge from the pocket of the tan jacket he wore, and then produced a wallet. Fixing the badge inside the wallet, he gave them each a hard look. The skin of his face was pale and the lines around his eyes made him look a bit desperate.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get us back there. But you never breathe a word about it, do you understand? I’d never work as a cop again if I get caught pulling a stunt like this—I mean, if we catch him actually doing something—then—”

  “Got it,” Veronica said, giving his shoulder a pat. “Thank you, Officer Posey.”

  “You’d better call me Matt,” he said. “I’m basically pretending to be a detective or a plain clothes at best. The ‘officer’ thing’s not going to help with that.”

  “No problem, Matt,” Veronica said.

  Posey took the lead and Veronica and Miguel followed him as they walked around the outside of the theater, looking for a door to the backstage. The building was huge and Veronica thought about urging them to run again, but then they came to the door at last.

  Posey tried the handle but it was locked. He banged on the door, hard.

  After a few moments it opened and a large African American man in a “Security” shirt stared out at them.

  Posey flashed the badge. “Detective Felsen of the Sac PD.” Veronica glanced at him but he didn’t return her look. “I need to have a quick look around.”

  “Is there a problem?” the security guard asked.

  “Probably not, but I need to check,” Posey said. “My partner and I—” he jerked his head toward Miguel— “followed a suspect into the convention halls. I’ve got officers spreading out. I just need to make sure he’s not in the backstage area.”

  Veronica tensed as she anticipated the security guard asking who she was, but he stood aside and the three of them went in.

  The backstage area was dark and hung with many black curtains. Above there were rows and rows of lights and cables hanging from metal rafters and scaffolds. Off to the right a hall led into darkness, with doors along the right. The green rooms, no doubt.

  Out on stage Thad Bayer stood at a podium, talking. Veronica glanced at the security guard, afraid he would expect them to start searching the green rooms when what they really needed to do was keep an eye on Bayer. The guard was looking at Posey.

  “Can you let me in to the dressing rooms?” Posey asked him, shooting a glance at Veronica. She gave him a small nod. “My partner and our assistant will check through the hall and behind these curtains.”

  The security guard nodded and led Posey away.

  Miguel and Veronica exchanged a look. “You stay here,” Miguel said after a moment. “I’ll sneak over to the other side of the stage behind the back curtain. That way if he exits on that side I can follow him. If he exits on this side, you follow him, right?”

  “Yeah,” Veronica said, her heart starting to hammer.

  Miguel slipped behind the heavy black curtain at the back of the stage and Veronica was alone.

  ~~~

  Applause thundered as Bayer closed his book with one hand, holding a handgun in the other. The passage he read had something to do with Second Amendment rights, but Veronica couldn’t understand what his point was, and seeing Thad Bayer brandishing a gun wasn’t conducive to her ability to think clearly anyway. Veronica stepped into the fold of a curtain, sure that he would exit then. Instead, he put his own book down and held up another.

  “We all know the true reason for the season!” he bellowed, putting the gun away in a holster under his arm. There were cheers. “I’m going to read to you from one of my favorite Bible passages, folks. ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’ I know you all know that one! John 3:16. But have you heard what comes right before that most famous line? ‘Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe…’”

  Veronica clutched her arms, feeling a chill. She didn’t consider herself religious, and she rarely went to church or thought much about it, but it bothered her that this man—this rapist—thought himself worthy to preach to people and quote from any holy scripture.

  “‘Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up,’” Bayer continued.

  A snake in the wilderness, indeed, thought Veronica, and then she saw the shimmer onstage.

  It started small—when Ariana had acted as their guide she had been larger. But then it grew, and the curtains around Veronica began to sway. With a look around she saw that all the curtains were swaying, as if a strong wind was blowing—these curtains were very heavy, designed not to allow any light breeze from outside to move them. But they were moving.

  “‘…who believes may have et
ernal life in him,’” Bayer read, and then everything went to hell.

  A loud cracking noise made Veronica flinch as one of the rafters came free above Bayer. With sparks flying it plummeted, the cables catching it before it hit the stage just a few feet behind where Bayer stood. He ducked and stumbled away from the podium, right toward the shade that was growing in intensity.

  Beside her, Veronica became aware of another shimmer, and after a breath it resolved itself. Ariana.

  Veronica looked from her to the figure on stage. “Wait,” she whispered. “I thought that was you.”

  Ariana turned and looked at Veronica with a cold stare. No, she responded. That’s my father.

  “Hector?” Veronica breathed. Had he passed away, then?

  She just had time to worry about how Miguel would feel about his father’s death and then each light that hung above, whether lit or not, exploded one after another.

  People screamed.

  Bayer lunged to get off the stage, nearly running into Veronica. She grabbed at him to try to keep him from getting away and the curtain she stood against fell on them both, heavy and black.

  With a cry Bayer struggled and got out from under it first. Veronica managed to get the weighty fabric off her in time to see him running back onto the stage, where Miguel was now standing.

  “This is your judgment!” Miguel shouted, pointing at him.

  People cried out and began pushing for the exits.

  Oh, holy shit, Veronica thought. I know I thought we might have to make a scene but—

  “What the hell is going on?!” Bayer cried, skidding to a halt. Lights had come up in the audience but the stage, for the most part, was dark.

  “Rapist!” shouted Miguel. “Pedophile! You ruined my sister! You were going to hurt some other girl right here in this theater!”

  Some of the people who had been fleeing hesitated.

  Bayer jerked back as if Miguel had struck him, though the other man was several feet away. The talk show host spun round to come back toward Veronica, but the shade of Hector had grown so intense, it was shedding light. Bayer stopped and his shoulders and face sagged at the sight of it.

  He could see it.

  Veronica covered her mouth with her hands.

  “CONFESS!” a voice thundered through the speakers. Then they boomed and died.

  Screaming in the audience intensified as Bayer pulled out his gun. First he pointed it at the glow, then he swung toward Miguel.

  Miguel raise his palms and took a step back, and Bayer bolted, headed back in Veronica’s direction.

  She scrambled to get out of his way and tangled her feet in the fallen curtain, sprawling. The thick fabric broke her fall. A hand with a pinching tight grip yanked her forearm and pulled her to her feet. Bayer pressed the cold, hard muzzle of the gun to the flesh under her jaw.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you people are, but you are getting me out of here,” he hissed in her ear. Pushing her from behind, he made her get clear of the rumpled curtain, and drove her ahead of him toward the door to the outside.

  Posey appeared in the hallway to the left, and Veronica heard Miguel run up and come to a stop somewhere behind them. The security guard joined Posey just as the latter raised a gun and pointed it at Bayer and Veronica.

  “Sacramento Police,” Posey said in an authoritative voice. “Drop your weapon, sir!”

  “You fucking drop yours or so help me I’ll pull this trigger,” Bayer said. Veronica could smell his sweat.

  Between them and the door a shimmer appeared, but Bayer didn’t seem to notice, still pushing Veronica ahead of him.

  It’s not loaded.

  It was Ariana’s voice—the shimmer was Ariana.

  The gun. It’s not loaded. It’s a prop.

  One last roll of the dice.

  Many years ago—at least ten—Veronica had taken a self-defense class. All she remembered from it was to bring up her heel and rake the calf of an attacker behind her. She did that now.

  Bayer yelped and his grip on her arm loosened. The security guard lunged forward and Veronica threw all her weight to the side. She landed on her knees but when she looked around, the guard had Bayer’s gun in his hands and Posey was cuffing the talk show host’s wrists.

  “Jesus, Veronica!” Miguel said. “He could have killed you!” He hurried to her side to help her up.

  Veronica gave him a shaky smile. “No,” she said. “Ariana said the gun was just a prop.”

  They turned to the security guard, who grinned. He tapped the gun. “Plastic, and not the fancy kind they use in some real weapons,” he said.

  Miguel gave a deep sigh. “This kind of stress I can do without.”

  ~~~

  Veronica waited for a quiet moment, after they’d all given their statements and the police had led Bayer away, to take Miguel’s hand. “I have some bad news,” she said to him.

  Miguel paled and tightened his fingers in hers. “What?”

  Veronica led him to a seat in the audience of the theater. “It’s about your father,” she said. Miguel’s eyes took on a haunted look.

  “You’re not—are you saying you—you see him now?” Miguel said, his voice sounding choked.

  Veronica nodded. “I’m sorry, Miguel. He must have passed away this morning.”

  Miguel gasped and looked away. Pulling his hand from hers he covered his face. “Oh god,” he said. “I wasn’t there.”

  “I’m so sorry, Miguel.”

  He was silent for a few moments, then he dropped his hands a bit and looked at her. “You saw him?”

  She nodded.

  “When?”

  “When we—um, when everything started happening, onstage. I think he did it all, actually. With the lights and the speakers. And maybe that curtain, too, although that could have been Ariana, she was right there.”

  “He did all that?”

  “Yeah,” Veronica said, and then she noticed the shade growing in clarity in the row in front of them. She grabbed Miguel’s sleeve. “Miguel. Someone’s here.”

  Miguel looked around. “Who? Is it my father? Or Ariana?”

  Veronica watched without answering him as the shade took on the features of Hector Santiago—he wasn’t distinct, but she could tell he looked more like his younger self. “It’s Hector,” she said. “It’s your father.”

  “Papa,” Miguel said, his voice tight. “Oh, god. Papa I’m so sorry I was away.”

  Tell him I was asleep. It was a good death.

  “He says he was asleep,” Veronica relayed. “He says it was a good death.”

  Tell him I’m glad I could come here. I’m glad I could do my part to stop Thad.

  Veronica echoed his words.

  “He really did do all those things?” Miguel said.

  I never wanted to believe her—Ariana—my poor girl. I wish I could go back. I didn’t believe my poor little girl, and I didn’t stop him from hurting others.

  Veronica repeated this to Miguel. “I think it really meant a lot to him to be able to do something to stop him now,” Veronica said.

  “Yes,” Miguel said. “I hope it’s enough. I hope that sicko can never hurt another girl.”

  Tell him I am so very proud of him, my son, my Miguel. He has been such a rock for me, and he fought for the house, and he fought to catch Thad and stop him from hurting anyone like he hurt Ariana. He is a good son, and a good brother. I wish I had told him how proud of him I was while I was alive.

  Feeling a lump forming in her throat, Veronica told Miguel what his father had said.

  Miguel’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Oh, Papa, I’m going to miss you.”

  A thought occurred to Veronica. “Hector, the deed. Where is it?”

  It was in my safe, but Dolores hid it. A ripple passed through Hector’s shade and then he disappeared.

  “He’s gone,” Veronica said, distressed. “I’m sorry, Miguel. He said the deed was in his safe, but your mother hid it. Maybe he left to find ou
t where.”

  “My mother…?” Miguel’s eyes darkened. “That’s just—of course she hid it. I’ve asked her before you know, and she always denied it! She lied to me.”

  Veronica took a deep breath. “Miguel, I know that must be hard to take, but—well, things have changed now, haven’t they? Now that your father is gone?”

  Miguel blinked and went quiet. Veronica watched him without speaking. He sat still, a distant look in his eyes, for several minutes.

  Finally, squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead with the fingers of his right hand. “I have to talk to her,” he said. “I have to talk to Mama. Papa is dead, there will be a lot to do, and she doesn’t know about Bayer, and it’s all going to come out now. And I have to talk to her about how she lied.”

  Veronica considered patting him on the shoulder or something and thought better of it. She could think of nothing to say or do that would alleviate what Miguel was dealing with.

  He looked at her, then. “Will you come with me?”

  Veronica’s eyes widened. “Me? Why?”

  “When I tell her about Bayer, it would be easier if you were there. You can tell her the parts about what Ari showed you. I’m afraid—I’m afraid she won’t believe me otherwise. Poor Ari tried to tell Papa and he never believed her. That’s what he said, right?”

  Veronica nodded. God, if there was one conversation she really didn’t want to get in the middle of, it was Miguel’s confrontations and revelations with his mother. “I just don’t think it’s my place to be there when you talk to her,” Veronica said. “This is all family stuff—serious family stuff, Miguel…”

  “Veronica, please,” he said. “I need you there. I need you to tell her what Papa said, and all the things Ari showed you. You found Ari—she’ll believe you.”

  She blew out a long breath of air. “Okay, Miguel. I’ll come with you.”

  “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “Let’s go now, before the press gets wind of Bayer’s arrest and everything comes out.”