“Calvin?” she hollered, peering inside the open door.
But it was dark inside. The place was filthy, like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Garbage covered the floor, empty liquor bottles covered every table and hard surface. The only piece of furniture that wasn’t covered with something was an old wooden rocking chair. It sat empty.
With her heart in her throat, Evanee took a step inside. “Calvin? Are you home? It’s Evanee Woods. I need to have a word with you.”
But there was no reply.
“I don’t think he’s in here,” whispered Whitley.
Evanee nodded. “Yeah, I think you might be right. I wonder where he is.” She walked around the house, peering through open doorways, half-expecting to find him passed out on a bed or something. But when she passed by the kitchen window, something outside caught her eye. She pointed to the backyard. “What is that?”
“I don’t know,” said Whitley, following her line of sight. “Should we go check it out?”
“Yeah, come on.”
They went back out the way they’d come in and down the porch steps. As they started around the side of the house towards the backyard, Whitley took hold of Evanee’s hand.
Evanee’s heart raced as she approached what appeared to be a work boot. She tipped her head sideways as her mind flashed back to the first time she’d ever laid eyes on Calvin Lancaster. He’d come from the woods wearing unlaced work boots. Lifting a stick out of the grass, Evanee poked at the boot, flipping it over. Sure enough, there were no laces in the boot.
“It’s Calvin’s.” She was sure of it.
Whitley looked confused. “Why is his boot in the middle of the yard?”
Evanee shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s a drunk. Maybe he lost it?” She stood up and scanned the backyard. Less than twenty feet away was a forest. She wondered if he’d been heading for the woods when he’d stumbled and lost his shoe.
“Calvin!” she hollered.
“Should we go look for him?” asked Whitley, nibbling on her nails once again.
Evanee swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to do, and she suddenly wished Lane was there with her. She would’ve felt much safer. “No, I think we better not—”
Whitley patted Evanee’s arm then. “Whit! Look!”
Evanee followed Whitley’s pointed finger to see another boot in the trees. They walked towards it carefully. As they got closer, Evanee began to realize that it was more than just a boot. The boot was attached to a pair of jeans, and then a shirt. It was a person! Calvin must have passed out in the forest.
“Calvin!”
Evanee’s adrenaline pumped wildly through her veins as they approached him. She was half scared that he was playing possum and he’d jump up and grab her if she got too close. So they edged up on him carefully.
“Calvin?”
When they got close enough to peer at him, Whitley sucked in her breath first. “Oh my gosh, Evanee, he’s dead!”
Evanee slapped a hand over her mouth as her heart dropped. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Calvin Lancaster had been shot several times in the torso, and the grass around him was covered in blood. It was quite clear that it wasn’t an accidental shooting or self-inflicted. Calvin Lancaster had been hunted and murdered.
She spun around. She couldn’t look at him. Tears sprang into her eyes. What had happened to him?
Scared, Whitley huddled up against Evanee’s side. “Evanee, we need to get out of here. Whoever did this to him could be lurking around here still!”
Even though there weren’t any other vehicles in front of Calvin’s house, Evanee knew Whitley could be right. The two women raced for Evanee’s Tahoe and leapt inside, locking the doors as her eyes scoured the clearing for anyone nearby.
“You’ve gotta call the police!”
Evanee’s heart raced wildly. “I will. But first I need to call Lane! I need to tell him what happened.”
“No, first you need to get out of here. What if the person who killed Calvin comes back?” said Whitley, fear in her eyes. “Hurry!”
“Killed Calvin?” asked Esmerelda, her drowsy eyes opening a sliver. “Did I miss something?”
Whitley nodded and pointed around the side of the house. “Yes, you missed something! We just found Calvin. He’s dead in the backyard!”
Esmerelda’s eyes opened wider. “You’re joking, right?” She looked around.
“No, I wish we were,” said Whitley. “He was shot.”
Evanee groaned as she messed with her phone. “Reception out here is terrible. The call won’t go through.”
Whitley shifted. “Just get us out of here. We can drive into town and stop at the police station.”
“It’s rare that I say this, but my sister is right,” said Esmerelda. “We gotta get out of here. Whoever killed Calvin might still be around.”
Evanee sighed and hightailed it out of the driveway. When she was on the gravel road leading back into town, she tried Lane again but found she still had no signal.
“I can’t believe Calvin is dead,” she breathed heavily. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”
“Okay, you can’t have a panic attack right now. You’re driving,” said Whitley. “Just relax. Take long, slow deep breaths.”
Evanee tried doing what Whitley suggested but found she couldn’t get her heart to stop racing. She shook her head. “It’s really not working.”
Whitley glanced back over her shoulder to make sure that they weren’t being followed. “Who do you think killed Calvin, Ev?”
“Obviously Rachel’s killer did it. He knew we were getting close.”
“Yeah, but we thought Calvin was the killer,” said Whitley. “If it’s not him, then who is it?”
Evanee shook her head. “I don’t know. Calvin had to have told someone else that Rachel was at the fire hall. Someone besides Bluebell. Obviously the killer wanted to shut him up permanently.”
“So that means that someone who knew you were investigating has to be the killer,” said Whitley. “Who knew you were investigating?”
Evanee forced herself to think. “Well, Rachel’s family. Lane, of course. Steve, Maddie Carlson, Priscilla Pankhurst, and Bluebell.”
“So it’s gotta be one of them,” said Whitley. “But which one?”
Evanee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had to think carefully. “Well, it’s not Lane, obviously, he was a baby. And if we’re to believe Steve and Bluebell, they cancel each other out because they were together when the fire started. Priscilla was with Irma Cromwell, fixing the dress, and Calvin’s now dead, so it looks like it wasn’t him after all. That leaves Maddie Carlson, but gosh, I was sure it wasn’t a woman that moved that big block at the fire hall. There’s no way little Maddie Carlson could’ve done it.”
“But that’s everyone!” said Esmerelda.
Evanee sighed as she cruised into town. It had to be someone she hadn’t considered a suspect before. And then, parked at the service station on the outskirts of town, she saw an old red truck. It reminded her of the truck that Lane had first delivered her pumpkins in. And then a thought hit her.
“You know, Lane’s father mentioned something to us today that I hadn’t thought of before. He said that the reason the whole town thought maybe he had something to do with the fire was because his truck was at the fire hall that day.”
“Okay? What’s that mean?” asked Whitley.
“Well, maybe the person who burned down the fire hall thought that Steve was inside, not Rachel.”
Whitley sucked in her breath. “Oh my gosh. You could be right! If that’s the case, then we’ve been looking at this case all wrong!”
Evanee nodded. “Exactly. Maybe whoever the killer was didn’t like Steve.”
“Who wouldn’t have liked Steve?” asked Whitley, tilting her head to the side.
Evanee leaned back in her seat and glanced out the window. She thought about it for a second. “Well, we think it was a man. And it had to be a man who
knew what we were up to. He was trying to shut Calvin Lancaster up permanently. What other men knew we were even talking to Calvin Lancaster?”
They drove in silence for another long moment when suddenly Evanee sucked in her breath. “Oh my gosh. I know who it is! I know who killed Rachel!”
38
“Lane, I need you to meet me at the festival fairgrounds immediately! It’s very, very urgent. I know who killed Rachel. Please hurry!” She followed up the voicemail message to Lane with a quick text message to Gemma. “Bad signal. Send 911 out to Calvin Lancaster’s place ASAP. Urgent!” With that, Evanee tossed the phone into her purse.
“Well, are you going to tell us who you think did it?” asked Esmerelda? “Or are we just supposed to guess?”
After parking in the fairgrounds parking lot, Evanee hopped out of her Tahoe. She reached inside, grabbing Esmerelda. “Come on, girls. You’ll see soon enough.”
The three of them ran through the fairgrounds back to the pub, where Evanee discovered no one had started working on it yet. She put Esmerelda down and walked across the path and up the road to the little merchandise shop she and Lane had been to earlier. It was now deserted. She saw a woman in costume walking up the path.
“Hey! Where is everyone?” Evanee shouted.
“The casting director just called a meeting over at the castle. Everyone’s headed over there now.”
“Have you seen Bluebell and Ace?”
“Umm, I’m pretty sure Bluebell’s over at the cast meeting. But last time I saw Ace, he’d left to pick up some more supplies for the Renaissance store,” said the woman.
Evanee nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
Considering her options, Evanee spun on her heel and went back to the pub to wait for Lane. The pub, which sold a variety of drinks served in novelty goblets and souvenir mugs, was a small wooden building nestled between two other makeshift “medieval” booths. A hanging sign overhead advertised that the tavern was called The King’s Head. Beneath it, two sheets of plywood covered the windows. During the day, they flipped up to expose the interior, where orders were taken.
“So, what do we do now?” asked Whitley, looking around.
Evanee’s stomach churned. While she was pretty confident she knew who the killer was, she needed to breathe. She looked around at all the boxes of stuff that had been hauled inside. Maybe working would take her mind off the matter at hand.
“Well, Lane should be here, soon, but in the meantime, I did promise to set this place up. I need to stock the shelves and get the kegs hauled over here. I think we’ve got some medieval decorations in a box somewhere. I suppose I’ll track those down…”
Evanee heard a noise outside. Relief flooded her body. “Oh! Lane’s here. Finally!” She took a step outside the pub to see Ace across the road, unloading a cart of boxes. She inadvertently gasped when she saw him.
Hearing the noise, Ace turned around. “Evanee, you scared me. I thought everyone was over at the cast meeting.”
“Oh, yeah, well, I’m just a lowly townsperson. I don’t do much,” she explained nervously. She hoped he couldn’t see through her thin veneer. “I thought I better get the pub set up instead.”
Ace smiled at her. “You know what Bluebell would say. There are no small parts, only small people.”
Evanee pretended to laugh, but the sight of Ace Adams made her extremely uncomfortable. “Well, I’ll talk to you later, Ace. I better get started on my work now or else The King’s Head won’t be able to open on time tonight.”
As Evanee let out a nervous chuckle and walked into the pub, Ace suddenly called out after her. “Oh, Evanee!”
Evanee’s heart stopped for a moment. Uneasily, she stuck her head back out the door at the side of the building. “Yeah?”
Before she realized what was happening, Ace was upon her. “Hey, the decorations you need are in back,” he said, pointing down the narrow alley between the two buildings.
Evanee let out the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, okay. Thanks,” she smiled nervously at him.
“I can get the kegs for you if you want. I’ve got the cart.”
“Oh, yeah, umm, sure, that would be great,” she said, hoping that he’d run off and do that so Lane had time to get there. She gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, Ace.”
But Ace didn’t leave. Instead he stood there, staring at her, trying to read her soul. A smile was plastered to his face. That smile that she had once found to be charming and handsome now looked creepy and frightened her. With his hands on his hips, he tipped his head sideways.
“Everything okay, Evanee?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, her voice rising an octave as she nodded fervently.
“Really? Because you seem kind of nervous.”
“Nervous?” Evanee’s head shook from side to side. “Nope. Not nervous at all. I just have a lot of work to do and I better get to it! Thanks for getting the kegs for me.”
Evanee turned to go back into the pub, but Ace reached out and caught hold of her elbow. She looked down at his hand on her and then up at Ace.
“You know, I really don’t think my wife had anything to do with the fire that killed that Dawson girl,” he said. “Just in case that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Mm-hmm,” said Evanee, her heart thrumming against her chest.
“I know it sounds terrible that she went to see Steve that day, but after you left, she explained to me that it was all very innocent.”
“Okay, it’s really none of my business,” said Evanee, wishing that Ace would just go and leave her alone.
“Well, you looked a little stressed about it. I know you and Bluebell are friends, and I don’t want you to think badly of my wife,” he explained.
Her brows lifted. “Oh, I don’t think badly of her, I assure you.”
He smiled a little wider then. “You don’t think she had anything to do with the fire now?”
Evanee’s head shook. “Nope. Lane and I verified her whereabouts with Steve. He admitted that she’d gone to see him and they were together when the fire started. I know it wasn’t her.”
“Oh, well… that’s good,” said Ace, nodding his head, the smile unmoving. “So, do you have any other suspects?”
“Other suspects?” asked Evanee, glancing over his shoulder towards the alley, hoping that Lane would magically appear. “Umm, no, not really.”
“But I assume this is the project you two were working on the other day, at the festival rehearsal?”
“Oh, yeah. Yup. This is what we’ve been working on.”
“And you don’t have a single other suspect, huh?”
“Well, I mean, we’ve uh…” She swallowed hard. “We’ve uh, spoken to Calvin Lancaster. He’s been named by many as knowing where Rachel was that night.”
“You know, Calvin Lancaster’s well known around these parts as a drunk. He used to be in law enforcement, but after everything that happened with the fire, and his drinking… well, I had to fire him. He’s really not a great person to trust.”
Evanee’s eyes widened. “You fired Calvin?”
Ace smiled. “Oh, that was years and years ago. I used to be the mayor. So if Calvin told you anything else, it really shouldn’t be trusted. He’s not in his right mind, that one.”
“He didn’t tell us anything else,” said Evanee. “Nothing important, anyway.”
“You know, I’d be willing to help you and Lane figure this all out if you needed,” said Ace. He shrugged coyly. “I like to think I’m a pretty smart fella.”
“Evanee,” whined Whitley from the other side of the pub. “This guy is freaking me out! Get rid of him.”
Evanee wanted nothing more than to get him to go, but she wasn’t sure how to do it. He seemed to want to poke around and see what she knew. Maybe she needed to play his game and see if she couldn’t get him to incriminate himself.
“Well, everyone we’ve spoken to has a different opinion of who was involved,” she finally admitted.
“Do they?”
Evanee nodded and then whispered as if she was providing him with a secret, “Lane’s grandmother was the one that suggested Bluebell as a possibility, and Steve thought Calvin did it. Of course we had our suspicions about him. But we also knew that Maddie Carlson was the one that told Calvin where Rachel was that night.”
Ace’s head bobbed. “I wondered how Calvin found out.”
“But it seems to me that Calvin, or maybe Maddie, might have told someone else.”
“Someone else?” said Ace curiously.
Evanee’s head bobbed. “Yes. I’m fairly confident it was a man that did it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“There was a big oversized concrete block over at the crime scene,” said Evanee. “I’m pretty sure that was used to block the doorway. I tried to move it myself, but there was no way I was strong enough.”
“Evanee!” hissed Whitley. “What are you doing?!”
Ace swallowed hard. “Is that right?”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured absently. “You know what else occurred to me today?”
“No, what?”
“Well, we knew that Rachel actually drove Steve’s truck over to the fire hall.”
The more confident Evanee seemed to get, the more perturbed Ace seemed to look. “Did she?”
“Yes. So I was thinking, maybe whoever set that fire wasn’t trying to kill Rachel. Maybe they were trying to kill Steve!”
“Well, that’s a thought, but I doubt—”
“Of course, now we know that Bluebell was with Steve, so maybe whoever thought that Steve was in the fire hall thought Bluebell was there with him.”
“Evanee, what are you doing!” hissed Whitley.
“Yeah, I have to agree with my sister. You better quit. This guy ain’t fooling around. I’ve seen crazy before and this guy’s it.” Esmerelda hopped off the counter she’d been standing on. “I’m gonna go see if I can’t find Lane.”
Ace didn’t even seem to notice as the cat ran off out the door. He ran a hand across his slick, bald head, drying off the beads of sweat that had formed.
“That’s quite the hypothesis,” he said.
Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2) Page 28
