Sight in the Dark

by A M Ialacci

  “First, you should know that we have ruled Nicholas Stubbs’s death a homicide.”

  “No kidding! Someone killed him on purpose?” Travis seemed shocked, but Cleo remembered he was a practiced liar.

  “It looks that way. The thing is, Travis, we couldn’t locate your bow in your storage unit,” Will said, handing back the key he had borrowed. “You seemed pretty sure it was there.”

  “Last I knew it was. Maybe somebody stole it?”

  “It’s always possible, but it seems a little strange that your lock was intact and nothing else was taken. Could someone have borrowed it and you’ve forgotten, perhaps?”

  Why was Will being so damned nice to this jerk?

  “I suppose that’s possible.” Travis was nodding now, warming to this idea.

  “You said you were home with Shelley that evening, is that correct?”

  “Yep,” Travis said.

  “The whole night?”

  Travis turned his head sideways, thinking. “Yes, I believe so. Pretty sure.”

  “No one will be able to come and tell us they saw you driving or in another location that evening?”

  “No, I don’t imagine they will.” Travis’s gaze darted between Will and Cleo.

  Will nodded. “All right then.” He put his hands on his hips and looked as if he was prepared to leave. “Oh, just one more thing,” he added, scrunching up his forehead.

  “What’s that?”

  “Those bruises on your neck. Are you able to tell us how you got them?”

  Travis’s face turned a shade pinker as his eyes widened. “I really can’t remember.”

  Will scrunched his face again. “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you, Travis?”

  Silence grew as the two men looked at each other. Travis was the first to break. “Nicholas and I got into it a few nights before he was killed, okay? I didn’t tell you because I knew I’d be your lead suspect. He was getting nosy, butting into my relationship with Shelley, telling me I didn’t know how to treat her. I thought he was a jealous old pervert and I told him so.”

  “Where was this, and when?”

  “I was in the driveway at our house when he came out of nowhere and started threatening me,” Travis said. “Before I knew it, his hands were around my neck and he had me lifted off the ground. I couldn’t yell for help or anything. Pretty sure I could have died if Shelley hadn’t come running out of the house telling Nicholas to stop.”

  “Shelley can back up this story?”

  “She can.”

  “Cleo, do me a favor and call Shelley. Ask her about this and see if she can corroborate it before Travis here can contact her and tell her what to say.”

  Cleo nodded and stepped away, putting a hand over her ear to block out Travis’s indignant protestations. After speaking with Shelley for only a minute, she returned.

  “Shelley said he’s got it mostly right.”

  “What did she say?” Travis growled. “What didn’t I ‘get right?’”

  “She said you threw a couple of punches, missed, fell on your ass, got up, and started swinging again. And that’s when Nicholas lifted you up by the throat. I’m paraphrasing, of course,” Cleo said.

  “And you didn’t want revenge for that? For making you look like a fool?” Will pressed.

  “I didn’t look foolish. He’s the one that looked freakin’ crazy, didn’t he?” Travis was getting heated now.

  “See, I don’t think you were jealous over Shelley. In fact, word is, you were cheating on her anyway.” Will moved closer to Travis, emphasizing their size difference. Will was taller than him by about eight inches. “I think Nicholas confronted you for cheating on her. But, then again, I’m not sure any other woman would take a weasel like you.”

  That did the trick. Travis puffed his chest out. “You think you know so much? Women love me. And not just mediocre women like Shelley.” Travis bared his teeth and danced from one foot to the other, as if spoiling for a fight. “You wanna know who I was really with that night? I was with Vanessa VanEckle, the richest, most gorgeous woman in the state!”

  “You are recanting your former alibi, then?” Will took a step back and folded his arms.

  “That’s right. I was with Vanessa all night, having sex.”

  Will and Cleo exchanged a brief look and raised eyebrows.

  “We’ll have to contact her to verify that, of course.”

  “You do what you need to do. We were trying to keep it on the down low, but in this case, I didn’t want you to come knocking with a pair of handcuffs in my size.”

  “All right, we’ll check out your new alibi, Travis. And if you come across your bow, let us know, will you?” Will paused. “And don’t leave town.”

  “I’m still a suspect?” Travis shouted at Will, his frustration boiling over.

  “You need to check your tone, son,” Will said, stepping closer again and getting quieter.

  Travis cleared his throat and stepped back. “I have to get back to work,” he mumbled. Then he opened the door and was gone.

  “You know he’s beating Shelley, right?” Cleo asked.

  “We know.” Will nodded. “Our hands are tied unless she does something about it.”

  “It makes any of her testimony suspect, though. Maybe that’s still not the whole story about how he got those bruises,” Cleo said.

  “I know. That’s why he’s still a suspect.”

  “I enjoyed that last bit, though,” Cleo said, a smile creeping onto her face.

  “Me too,” Will said, returning the smile. “Let’s go.”

  “Gladly,” Cleo said and they descended the steps to the ground floor and out into the cool autumn sunshine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “I have to admit that I was shocked to hear him say he was with Vanessa VanEckle. I mean, isn’t she like the local celebrity or something?” Cleo asked.

  Will nodded. “Closest thing to it, although I’m not sure how you get famous for complaining about what clothes other people wear.”

  “I suppose it helps when you start with millions in your pocket.” Cleo snorted.

  “And now, it’s probably closer to a billion since her father’s passing.”

  “Wasn’t that a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Yeah,” Will said. “I don’t think you can blame that one on the curse.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

  Cleo laughed. “I suppose not. He was old, too, wasn’t he? And in poor health?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Will said.

  “I suppose we’re on our way to verify Travis’s alibi, then?”

  “That seems the wisest course of action,” Will said.

  “I know the general area, but not the specific address,” Cleo said.

  “I’ll point you in the right direction.”

  Cleo got off the highway at the second Main Street exit, and Will directed her to turn left instead of going right.

  “This part of Main Street is called ‘River Road,’ partially because it follows the river, and mostly because it differentiates this area from the common folk.”

  “Why, Will Truman! I do believe you are poking fun at some of the wealthier citizens of Crimson Falls.”

  “Who me?” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest.

  “You are supposed to be a public servant to all of the town’s citizens, sir,” Cleo admonished.

  “You’re right. Let’s see what these fine citizens are up to in this neck of the woods.”

  There was no sign at the road Will indicated, a long and winding number lined with trees that ended in a gravel driveway encircling a fountain. Cleo noted the multi-car garage off to the left, and the fifteen-step grand staircase up to the huge front doors, all dark wood and glass.

  “I guess they’re going for ‘Massive Mediterranean?’” Cleo quipped, taking in the pale-peach stucco and peeking through the tall etched glass windows on either side of the door. She could see a sweeping staircase to the upper floor
of the home, and someone in a uniform coming to answer the door. They were admitted and asked to wait for a moment. What Cleo guessed was the main entertaining room was to her right, containing plush, over-sized furniture in neutral tones, built-in bookshelves, and a large fireplace and mantel in the corner. A bank of floor-to-ceiling windows looked over the green expanse of the property and an English hedge maze about fifty yards from the main house.

  “She’s making a power play, by having us wait,” Cleo commented with a sly look to Will. She strayed a bit from her assigned spot and wandered toward the left end of the main floor, finding a state-of-the-art modern kitchen with white marble countertops, a commercial-size sub-zero refrigerator, and six barstools pulled up to an island. A large dining table lined with cushioned chairs sat in front of another bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the back lawn.

  “This isn’t new money,” Cleo muttered. “They’ve been here for generations, no doubt.”

  “Officer Turner, is it? I was just on my way out.” Cleo heard a voice say. She hustled back to the entrance, and Vanessa glanced her way. “Having a little tour, were you?” Then to Will, “Who was this again?”

  “It’s Truman, ma’am, not Turner. And this is Cleo Kemp. She’s assisting me while my hand heals,” he explained.

  She looked steadily at Cleo again, and then made a brushing gesture with her leather glove at the shoulder of her own poncho. “You have some animal hair on your coat, there.”

  Cleo didn’t move, allowing a wide smile to spread on her face as she stared back at Vanessa.

  “Well, I hope you are here with good news about my complaint against the executor of my father’s will.”

  “No, I’m sorry to say we’re not,” Will said. “You may have heard that a man named Nicholas Stubbs was killed a few nights ago in the woods.”

  “I did. Wasn’t he a…a handyman or something? I think he was the idiot that destroyed my brother’s car.”

  Cleo raised her eyes. So much for not speaking ill of the dead.

  “You’d never met him?” Cleo asked. Will was shooting daggers at her with his eyes, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “I might have had a passing word with him when he did work here at the house, but no, I’ve never met him,” Vanessa said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “Someone saw your car at the garage the night he was killed.” Cleo was bluffing, but she wanted to get a reaction.

  “Oh that. I stopped in that evening about six because I thought my hood might be damaged after a cow fell on it earlier in the day.”

  “A cow?” Will asked.

  Cleo narrowed her eyes at Vanessa.

  “But the garage was closed, so I left.” Vanessa shrugged.

  “Do you think I could ask the questions here?” Will’s voice was loud, and his eyes bored into Cleo’s. She raised her hands in surrender.

  “He was a handyman, yes. I need to ask you something, and I hate to be indelicate, but…”

  Cleo rolled her eyes at Will.

  “Travis Brenner said you would be able to vouch for his whereabouts the night Nicholas was killed. Said the two of you were…together the whole evening.”

  Vanessa sneered and looked between the two of them quickly, then raised her chin a bit. “Fine. Yes, we were together here. The whole evening. He left for work from here in the morning.”

  “And what time did he arrive?”

  “Somewhere around eight o’clock, I believe. We had a late private dinner, and then went upstairs.”

  Cleo raised her eyebrows, and Vanessa caught her meaning,

  “I had told him not to tell anyone. I didn’t really want it to get out that I had been slumming for an evening, but I can’t very well let a man get blamed for something he obviously couldn’t have done.” She put a hand to her hip. “But I don’t want to see this in any tabloids, Officer Turner.”

  “Truman. And you won’t see this anywhere. We are not in the business of selling information. Only finding it. Thank you for your time.” Will was pulling at Cleo’s elbow and steering her out of the big peach house. The heavy door was closed behind them, and they marched through the gravel back to the Mini.

  “How far back do the VanEckles go around here?”

  “I think they’re related to the first settlers here.”

  “The ones behind the curse legend?”

  Will shrugged as they both got in the car. “Pretty much everyone is related in some way. Very few outsiders come and settle here,” he said, nudging her.

  “Wonder why,” she commented as her tires threw gravel, accelerating away from the estate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Mabel Lee Rutger ran her beauty salon out of the shed behind her home on Persimmon Street. Technically, Mabel Lee was supposed to have a business license and a permit to cut hair, but since she didn’t technically charge her friends who stopped by, she avoided all regulation by the town, county, and state. There was a big pickle jar on the sideboard next to the magazines and supplies that read donations, and all the women in town knew that the standard rate for a “donation” at Mabel’s was twenty bucks for a trim, and thirty bucks for a trim and blowout.

  It was spacious enough on the inside, and Will and Cleo couldn’t help but look around in admiration at the proprietor’s ingenuity. Mabel Lee must have studied tiny homes and RV living on Pinterest to find all the ingenious storage solutions used in here. Her husband had plumbed the shed so she could have a single sink, and her brother-in-law had electrified it well enough to have two sitting driers going at once without blowing a fuse. This was where they finally found Maeve Witten.

  Will was about to step forward but Cleo put out her arm to stop him and held a finger to her lips at Mabel’s glance. With their faces buried in magazines or eyes covered with cucumbers, none of the occupants of the shed had realized they were there, and as such were talking freely.

  “You know that Walter VanEckle was murdered, too,” the woman in Mabel’s chair insisted.

  “Old Walter had been laid up for months before he died. That couldn’t have been a more natural death,” a taller woman with a magazine in front of her hooked nose responded.

  “No, it’s true. He was killed!” the first woman squeaked. “He was the first one lost to the curse this year! So sad. He was such a ladies’ man when we were all young.”

  Maeve Witten piped up from under the air dryer. “Julia, you think every death in town is a murder. And you believe in alien abductions and Sasquatch, too!” The ladies bubbled with laughter.

  “He’s real! I’ve seen him with my own eyes!” Julia squealed.

  Will looked at Cleo then stepped forward. He couldn’t help himself and knocked on the dome to let Maeve know she was needed. She jumped and then scowled when she realized the source of her discomfort. She pretended that she couldn’t hear and it would just have to wait. Cleo reached over and turned the drier off, then flipped the dome off Maeve’s head. Maeve instinctively raised her hands to protect her curlers, as if curler-stealing monkeys would swoop in and ruin her setting.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Discomfort had given way to fury.

  Will drew himself up to look down on her. “Now, Maeve. We’ve been looking to talk to you for a few days, and we need some questions answered.”

  “But she—” Maeve jerked a thumb in Cleo’s direction before Cleo interrupted.

  “Maybe we could step outside? It’s not too chilly today.”

  Maeve glanced at Mabel Lee, who shrugged. Will stepped back to allow the ladies to exit the shed first.

  “If you mention I spoke to you, I’ll mention the pot,” Cleo hissed into Maeve’s ear.

  When all three of them had stepped onto the patio of Mabel Lee’s backyard, Maeve’s tone had much improved. “What can I do for you, Officer Truman?”

  Will glanced at Cleo with a question in his eyes but took advantage of the sudden change of heart. “N
icholas Stubbs’s death has been ruled a homicide.”

  Maeve was unmoved. “Okay,” she said. “And?”

  Will sighed. “You were seen arguing with him the day he died, and you were overheard threatening him.”

  “He threatened me, too!” she objected and then clenched her jaw, realizing her admission.

  “And what was that about, exactly?” Will asked.

  Maeve hazarded a glance at Cleo and then said, “He was a peeper. I caught him peeping outside our house when Harriet was home alone, and I told him if I caught him again, there’d be hell to pay.”

  Cleo snorted and Will shot her a look. After a pause, he turned back to Maeve.

  “Where were you the evening that Nicholas died?”

  “At home, of course.”

  “Was anyone with you?”

  “Harriet was with me.”

  “Tell me. Do you know how to shoot a crossbow?”

  “I do, but I haven’t in many years.”

  “Do you own one?”

  “No. You can search my house.”

  “We’ll probably take you up on that,” Will cautioned.

  “That’s fine. Just try not to disturb Harriet. She’s often in quite a bit of pain,” Maeve said, furrowing her brow.

  “We won’t bother her,” Will said. “Why don’t you head back in and get your hair finished?”

  “Thank you, Officer Truman.” She faced Cleo while still addressing Will and said, “You are a consummate professional.”

  Cleo narrowed her eyes and said nothing.

  “Oh, a couple more things, Maeve. What kind of car do you drive?”

  Maeve looked puzzled. “A Subaru Outback, why?”

  “Just for our records,” Will said. “And can you tell me how you injured your hand there?”

  “I was gardening the other day and got a little aggressive with the trowel,” she said.

  Will nodded. “Make sure you get that treated if it isn’t getting any better, all right? Bye now.”

  As Cleo and Will made their way back to the Mini, Cleo asked, “Why’d you ask her what kind of car she drove?”

  “So we could look in the windows,” Will said, pointing to a Subaru Outback.