STAGING WARS

by Grace Topping

  I slid one of the boxes open and pulled out a match. My hands shook so hard I could hardly strike it.

  Nita started at the erupting flame. “What the heck!”

  “Matches Josh gave me.” The flame burned down close to my fingers, and I blew it out before it could burn me. “Nita, I’m going to light another one. When I do, quickly look around us to see what you can find. If we can’t find any old candles, look for an old broom or even a stack of newspapers.”

  I struck several more matches in a row while Nita scurried around searching the basement close to where the matches illuminated.

  “Here’s a broom. What do you want me to do with it?”

  “Break off a handful of the bristles. I’ll set them alight. They’ll give us a burst of light but will burn out fast. When I set them alight, look around to see what you can find.”

  I touched a match flame to the bunch of broom bristles. They flamed up quickly and put off a burst of light. After a few seconds, I dropped them to the floor and stamped out any embers with my shoe. “See anything?”

  “Here, I found a rake. We can try using that to break down the door. And I found a stack of old newspapers.”

  “Great. Give me the papers, and you get ready to run up the stairs when I light some.” I took wades of paper and rolled them tightly to form a torch. “See if you can get the teeth of the rake between the door and the doorframe.”

  I lit the paper roll and Nita ran. I stood there like a torchbearer, wondering if any of the characters from my favorite mystery series ever faced such a bizarre situation as this. When the paper flared up too much, I dropped it on the floor and stood back and let it burn out. Thankfully, nothing was close enough to catch fire.

  Nita yelled from the top step. “The rake teeth won’t fit between the door and the frame. I’m going to try wedging it under the door.”

  I heard a loud crack.

  “Christopher Columbus!”

  Uh, oh. Now she had gone to historical figures. A sure sign her stress levels were escalating.

  “What happened? Are you okay?” I felt my way over to the bottom of the stairs.

  “The handle broke off.”

  “It was a good try. I’m going to light another torch. Come back down and let’s think about what we can do next. I’m getting thirsty. Did you see a deep sink down here?”

  Nita came back beside me. “Didn’t see one.”

  I dropped the torch and let it burn out. We sat down again, the air around us smelling of smoke.

  I tried to get comfortable on the hard floor. “One thing is certain. These old houses were well built. It would probably take a bulldozer to break down that door.”

  Nita laughed. “Yeah. Too bad we didn’t bring a truck. We could’ve attached a rope to the door handle and had the truck back up to pull the door open.”

  “All we’re missing is a truck—and a rope long enough to reach the street. We should have planned better.” At least we hadn’t lost our sense of humor.

  A truck in front of the house. That triggered a memory. I recalled telling Tyrone about some of the features in these old homes. How they originally had coal furnaces. Workers would back a truck up to a house and dump a load of coal down a chute into the basement.

  A coal chute from the sidewalk to the basement. Could we be that lucky?

  “Nita, when I walked around the basement before Anne turned off the light, I saw the walls in the corner of the furnace room stained with coal dust. That means this house used to have coal stored here and must have had a coal chute. It may still be here.”

  “So?” She said it as though wondering what that had to do with the price of tea in China.

  “The chute goes from the street to the furnace room. If we can find it, we may be able to climb up the chute and push the cover off at the top. If that doesn’t work, we can yell from there and maybe someone going by will hear us.”

  “How are we going to climb up a chute?”

  “They don’t go straight up and down like a laundry chute.” I shivered thinking about my experience with one before. “They slope from the street into the basement, going under the porch. I remember watching workmen deliver coal to my grandparents’ house when I was a kid. The chutes aren’t that long or that steep. It might be worth looking for it.”

  “I’m game to try anything that’ll get us out of here. What direction was the furnace room?”

  I lit a match and looked around to get my bearings. “In that far corner. Think you can find your way there in the dark? We’re getting low on matches, and I want to reserve a few.”

  Holding onto each other, we slowly made our way across the basement, bumping into a crate of empty soda bottles that rattled. Eventually, we made it to the entrance of the furnace room. The wooden door screeched when I pulled it open.

  The coal storage area was located in the far corner. Using the wall as a guide, we made our way to the corner. I ran my hands over the wall in that area feeling for whatever covered the chute. My fingers came into contact with what felt like a piece of plywood pushed up against the stone foundation. For the first time that day, it seemed as though things might be going our way.

  “Nita, give me your hand and I’ll guide you. Do you feel the edge of this board?” I positioned her hand against it.

  “Yes.”

  “I think it covers the entrance to the chute. See if you can get your fingers along the edge. When I say go, pull it as hard as you can.”

  “Go.” We both pulled, and it gave away so easily we landed on our bottoms with a thump.

  “Well, that wasn’t a challenge at all,” Nita said.

  I felt along the entrance to the chute and was relieved to find that it hadn’t been filled in. “The challenge will be climbing up the chute.” I rubbed my sore bottom. First my knee and now my bottom. By the time we escaped, I was going to be one big bruise.

  I pushed my head inside and was relieved to see a few pinpricks of light at the top.

  “Can you tell how long the chute is?” Nita asked.

  “Not really, but I can see a little light, so we’re not too far from the street. The chute’s probably the same width as the porch. With any luck, it’s only about fifteen feet—maybe a few more feet because of the slope of the chute.

  “Okay, let’s give it a try. I’ll go first. Wait here until I get a feel for how it goes.” I breathed in slowly through my nose and exhaled out through my mouth, trying to calm myself. Feeling a little calmer, I put my knee on the lip of the chute, stooped over, and pushed myself inside. The chute was wide enough for me to fit inside okay. Grime covered the inside, and it felt creepy. Between the dark and the grime, this must have been what it was like during the Victorian Era when young children had been stuffed inside chimneys to work as chimney sweeps. If our lives weren’t at stake, no amount of money would have convinced me to go inside the chute.

  At first, I tried to climb using my knees but found there wasn’t quite enough room for that, even with me stooped over. Crawling on my stomach and using my forearms to propel myself forward seemed the only option. The chute wasn’t as I had imagined it would be—smooth metal like a children’s sliding board. It had been heavily dented from years of coal landing on it and each ding was encrusted with bits of coal. The smell was awful, and I could feel gritty bits of coal dust and dirt, and things I didn’t want to contemplate, in my nose and on my tongue. I started to cough.

  “Are you okay? Want me to give it a try?” Nita’s voice sounded muffled, as though coming from a great distance, not the few feet that separated us.

  “Yuk. It’s disgusting in here. I think I swallowed some coal dust.” I started coughing again.

  After my coughing jag stopped, I pulled myself forward a couple of feet and just as quickly slid back to where I started.

  “This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought. B
its of coal are digging into my arms and body.”

  “How about if I push you?” Nita suggested.

  “Thanks, but I don’t think you’d be strong enough to do that.” Sweat began dripping into my eyes, and I wiped my face with the backs of my grimy hands.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to scoot up a bit. When I do, climb in behind me. Stretch your arms and legs out to the sides of the chute as though to anchor yourself. Maybe with you there, I won’t slide backward, or at least not as far.”

  Nita clambered in behind me. “Okay. But be careful where you put your feet. I don’t want a flattened nose. It’s not the greatest nose, but I’m rather attached to it.”

  I started to laugh and cough at the same time, nearly causing me to slide backward again. It was easy to laugh now that we had found an escape route. But we weren’t there yet. I used my forearms to pull myself forward again, occasionally stopping to gasp for air, trying not to breathe too deeply and get coal dust in my lungs.

  A thick coating of coal dust now covered my tongue. This must have been what coal miners experienced down in the mines. I wanted to spit it out but didn’t want Nita coming behind me and putting a hand in it.

  As I continued wiggling forward, Nita scooted behind me. I prayed we wouldn’t both slide backward with me landing on top of her.

  Just a few more inches and I would be able to reach the cover to the chute. I started to slide again, but I felt Nita’s hand on my leg holding me firm. Again I dug my forearms in and scooted forward. My outfit would now be ruined, and it had been one of my favorites.

  What a time to think of ruined clothing. Better to have it ruined by going up the chute than to have it clean and covering my dead body in that dungeon of a cellar. How long would it be before someone entered Anne’s house again with her gone? Weeks? Months? If we couldn’t escape through the chute, would we look like mummies when they found us?

  Chapter 46

  Box up items like seasonal clothing and Christmas decorations and move them to a storage unit.

  With one final lunge forward, I was within reach of the cover. Now all I had to do was get enough leverage to push the door out. I hoped it didn’t have any kind of lock on it. I wedged my knee under me and shoved my shoulder against it.

  The cover fell forward and bright light hit me—along with some gloriously fresh air. It had stopped drizzling and the sun had come out. I tried to pull myself out of the chute and looked up to see the stunned faces of Aunt Kit and Mrs. Webster. I don’t know who was more shocked—them or me.

  Aunt Kit grabbed my arms and helped work me out of the chute. Coal dust covered me from head to toe, some of which had now come off onto her.

  I pointed behind me. “Nita is still in there.”

  Mrs. Webster took hold of my arm to steady me. “Girl, what in tarnation is going on?”

  “Let’s get Nita out and then I’ll explain.”

  Nita, with Aunt Kit’s help, came tumbling out of the chute and collapsed onto the grass. “Am I ever glad to see you two,” she said.

  “How did you come to be here?” I asked them, still astounded to find them just when we needed them.

  Aunt Kit answered first. “When I didn’t find you at home, I sat at the kitchen table to have some lunch and found the notebook you were using to record your findings. Since you said it would be okay, I read your notes and was stunned to see what you had written regarding Anne and your plan to check out her house. When you didn’t answer your cell phone and then neither did Nita, I got concerned. I called Mrs. Webster to ask if she had seen either of you. I told her I was coming here, and because she was alarmed, she insisted on coming with me. I picked her up on the way. We thought you’d come and gone when we saw Anne’s car driving away.”

  Mrs. Webster frowned and looked disapproving. “We were trying to decide what to do next when you popped out of the earth. I’ve never seen such an entrance.”

  “You just saw Anne driving away?” I couldn’t believe she hadn’t taken off earlier. With us being imprisoned in the basement, she didn’t need to rush to get packed and away. She took her time, thinking she had gotten away with theft—and murder.

  “Did you see what direction she headed?” I looked up and down the street.

  “She turned right at the end of the street. That would’ve put her going in the direction of the Interstate,” Aunt Kit said.

  We couldn’t let her get away. “Quick. Maybe we can cut her off before she gets to the Interstate. I know a shortcut over the mountain.”

  We scrambled into my little car. I started the engine and checked my rearview mirror for cars coming down the road behind us. That’s when I saw my reflection in the mirror. My hair was coated with coal dust, and dark streaks covered my face where I had wiped it with my grimy hands.

  No time to worry about that now. I glanced over at Nita, who was equally as dirty.

  “Nita, find your cell phone and call Detective Spangler. Tell him our location and that we’re chasing Ian and Damian’s killer.” I took a left turn at the end of the street and headed in the opposite direction Anne had taken. With any luck, we could make it to the Interstate before she could get there.

  “Aunt Kit, what color and type of car did Anne have?” I went careening around the next corner.

  “A silver Lexus.”

  Anne must have been doing well with those paintings.

  I could hear Nita talking into the phone while I focused on driving. “This isn’t the greatest route, but it cuts off a lot of miles. We should get to the road leading to the Interstate before she does.” At least I hoped so.

  Aunt Kit had a death grip on her bag. “That’s if we get there in one piece.”

  Mrs. Webster looked like she was having the time of her life. “Can you please tell us now more about what’s going on? Why did you come out of the basement the way you did?”

  “Yeah and looking like escapees from a coal mine?” added Aunt Kit. “I don’t think you’re ever going to get your upholstery clean again.”

  Good old Aunt Kit, worried about my upholstery as we chased down a cold-blooded killer.

  “After Mrs. Webster recognized the painting, we suspected Anne of stealing the paintings and murdering Ian Becker and Damian Reynolds to cover her trail. When someone said she was going away, we knew we needed to act fast to find evidence of the painting thefts. If we could, we might be able to connect Anne to the murders.”

  “In case she was going on the lam,” Nita added.

  “We found Anne was gone and the door unlocked, so we went it. Anne came back, locked us in the basement, and turned out the lights.”

  “That must mean Anne was the one who attacked you at the empty house?” Aunt Kit seemed stunned by all these revelations about Anne, especially since she had been spending so much time with her recently. “Now it makes sense why she was always asking me about what you and Nita were discovering with your investigation.”

  “I’m thankful that she didn’t stab Laura like she did the other two.” Mrs. Webster said.

  Nita gasped. “She might have if Aunt Kit hadn’t befriended her. Maybe she has some redeeming qualities after all.”

  Aunt Kit grunted. “She sure had me fooled. Frankly, I think anyone who could kill two people in cold blood and rob a helpless woman is a bit insane.”

  Mrs. Webster grabbed the back of Nita’s seat as I navigated another sharp bend in the road. “Watch it girl.” She straightened her hat, which had fallen over her face. “Anne fooled most people with her sweet and helpful manner. It goes to show you people are willing to commit serious crimes regardless of their age. She didn’t hesitate to take advantage of Doris’s increasing dementia.”

  “I still can’t get over her locking us in that cellar, in the dark, without anyone knowing where we were.” Nita was still outraged. “Fortunately, Laura remembered those old houses had
coal chutes. If it weren’t for her, we’d still be down there.”

  “There’s the highway,” I said, pointing ahead. When we reached the intersection, I stopped at the stop sign. We either had missed Anne or she would be coming along anytime now. No cars were behind us, so we were able to sit and wait. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, impatient for Anne to drive by.

  “There’s her car,” Aunt Kit shouted, pointing to a silver vehicle.

  I saw it pass in front of us and quickly turned to follow it. “Nita, please tell Detective Spangler that we have Anne in our sights near the intersection of Adams Road and the highway. We are heading east toward the Interstate.”

  We stayed a couple of cars behind Anne. She wouldn’t have any reason to recognize my car, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Besides, she thought Nita and I were tucked away nicely in her basement and wouldn’t suspect we were right behind her.

  Nita sat forward in her seat. “She’s put her right turn signal on. We aren’t near the Interstate yet. Where could she be going?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re following right behind her.” I slowed down to stay out of sight.

  Mrs. Webster hit the back of my seat with her hand. “She’s signaling a left turn now.” The excitement of the chase was getting to her. I had to admit it was rather like being in a movie.

  As we got closer, we saw Anne pull into a self-storage facility. She stopped at a metal gate, lowered her car window, and looked like she was entering a code. The gate slid open and she drove inside with the gate closing behind her.

  “After her,” urged Mrs. Webster. “She probably has the rest of the paintings stored in there. We can catch her red-handed.”

  “We can’t get in there without a code.” Mrs. Webster probably was right and the paintings were stored there. Anne wasn’t leaving the area without them. I was even more determined now to prevent her from getting away.

  “She may have gotten in, but she won’t be getting out.” I pulled my car in front of the gate and blocked the exit.