Murder on the Brewster Flats

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  We dragged the table aside, tucked up the heavy curtains on the metal rod on which they hung, and stared.

  “There has to be a catch release of some kind,” I said, feeling around on the panel.

  She stepped back a few paces, broadening her search. “What if it’s farther back?”

  Two metal candle sconces hung on either side of the passage about three feet behind us on each wall. I tried to twist the one on our right, but it was securely fastened to the rough wooden wall. “Try the other one.”

  Camille reached up and rotated it to the right.

  Something clicked.

  We exchanged a look of relief and ran to the door. I shoved on the panel. It opened with a screech. We left it halfway rotated, so we didn’t lose access to the other side. I could just picture us getting closed in there. I jammed the table into the opening, just in case.

  “Mason!” Camille ran to a playpen where the boy stood on a bunched-up blanket, tears staining his cheeks. “Oh, sweetie. You poor little thing.”

  He reached up, and then looked at the cuppy he’d dropped on the floor. “Baba.”

  I grabbed it. “The milk’s still cool. Marla must have brought him down here before her jaunt to the ocean.” I wiped off the top of the cup and handed it to him. “Here you go, little man.”

  Camille sank into a chair and cuddled the boy. He began to greedily suck at his milk. “Oh, Gus. How could she?”

  I grimaced. “I think she was planning to come back, if that’s any comfort.” I gestured around the room. It had been set up as a dungeon nursery of sorts, with a pack of diapers and supplies. I recognized Jane’s diaper bag with the blue dinosaurs on it. A table was set up in the corner with a Winnie-the-Pooh lamp. Beside it sat a big box of powdered milk and a few gallons of water. In the corner, Marla had laid out a box of food, including containers of baby food and fresh fruit. A cot stretched beside it with a pillow and comforter. “Looks like she planned to spend a lot of time hiding out down here.”

  “It’s crazy,” Camille said, glancing around. “But there’s no way she had time to set all this up today. It’s too elaborate.”

  “You’re right. I think she’s been planning this ever since she found out about Mason.” I reached down to pat his soft hair. “Poor little guy.”

  The boy clung to Camille, whimpering and nuzzling his head against her. “Get me that blanket, Gus. He’s cold.”

  I reached for the blanket and wrapped it around both of them. “You’re cold, too.” I leaned down to hug her and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m going to look around a bit while you settle him down. Then we can head down to the end of the tunnel and get this little guy back home to his mother.”

  “I hope Jane’s okay.”

  “Me, too. And Albert. It’s so odd how both of them ended up in the hospital on the same day, because of the same woman.” I realized I hadn’t told her the whole story yet, and quickly explained how he collapsed when he’d seen Robbie emerge from his prison. But if both Jane and Albert were still in the hospital, Robbie and Beckett would be the only one home to care for the little guy, at least until Albert’s daughter and son-in-law returned from Africa. I realized that no one had been able to tell them that their son was found. Another thing to put on the long to-do list when we got out of here.

  The whole thing was a mess. So much damage. So much rage. And all from one woman.

  What had made her so angry, anyway? I figured it couldn’t be based on the long-standing family feud. It had to be driven from her illness.

  The “nursery” was situated in the near end of a long room. The lights didn’t extend all the way to the far end, so we couldn’t see what else was in there. I turned on my iPhone light and wandered into the dark.

  Part way down on the right, I stopped and stared at a skeleton wearing ragged clothing, sitting in a chair. It took me a few minutes to get over the surprise, but I approached the thing anyway. On further inspection, I saw he was held together and suspended by wires. As I studied him, I thought he grinned at me.

  I examined the roughly woven broadcloth of his shirt and trousers. No buttons. No zippers. The stitching was uneven, as if done by hand.

  I stared a little longer and sighed. Whoever this was, I guessed he’d been here for centuries. I figured the cold, dry tunnel had preserved his clothing. With a start, I wondered if I’d found Rubin Knight, the blacksmith who’d melted down Reverend Cook’s treasure into three gold crosses.

  The longer I thought about it, the more certain I was. What a horrendous thank you he received for doing McNabb a favor.

  Had he been killed down here? Or was he dragged down to the tunnels to hide the body and to use as a warning to intruders?

  But a warning against what?

  I wondered how McNabb had killed the poor blacksmith, and leaned closer to examine the bones. Gently, I opened the front flap of his shirt. An enormous spider crawled out, making me jump. He crawled down the fabric and disappeared. I bent closer, holding my iPhone light a few inches from the bones.

  When I got to the ribs, I stopped. A half-inch notch scored the fourth rib from the bottom, directly in front of the poor man’s heart. Had McNabb used a sword? Or a dagger? He’d clearly been experienced in neatly dispatching his victims.

  “Rest in peace, Mr. Knight.” I walked past him and continued on.

  I sensed I was nearing the end of the chamber, perhaps because of the way my echoing footsteps changed in sound. The tiniest wink of a reflection in the distance glinted in my iPhone light, but before I could investigate, Camille’s scream came loud and clear through the air. I turned back toward the front of the chamber and saw pure darkness.

  Marla had turned out the lights.

  Chapter 35

  “Gus?” Camille’s voice shook. She was scared. I knew this was too much sudden darkness for her in one day.

  “I’m coming, honey.” I used my iPhone to light the way back to Camille and Mason. “You two okay?”

  “I guess so. But why did Marla turn out the lights?”

  Mason thankfully still slept in her arms.

  “She’s playing with us, I think. Trying to psych us out.”

  “Well, it’s working. I don’t like this. Not one bit.”

  I put an arm around her and kissed her lips softly. “It’ll be okay. But we have to get out of here. Come on. Let’s change Mason and make up a fresh cup with that powdered milk.”

  I set the iPhone against the base of the Winnie-the-Pooh lamp. Camille settled the baby in the playpen and deftly changed him without waking him up, while I rinsed his cup with water from the jugs. When I felt it was clean enough, I mixed a portion of the powder with fresh water and screwed on the top.

  “Okay. Ready?”

  She stuffed the diaper bag full of diapers, wipes, and the powdered milk, just in case we didn’t have access to fresh milk once we emerged into the light of day, and then picked up the sleepy boy. She gave me a half-smile. “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

  We closed the secret room and exited the side tunnel, turning right to head for The Seacrest barn. About five minutes into our walk, my phone died and we were plunged into darkness.

  Not again.

  “Oh, no.” Camille sighed and reached for my hand. “There you are.”

  “It was just a matter of time. The battery can’t last forever, even on low power mode.” Wishing I’d kept the flashlight from earlier, I slid the phone into my pocket and gave her hand a squeeze. “It’ll be okay. I know the way, and it’s straight ahead.”

  I ran my fingers along the tunnel wall to guide us. It reminded me of the time Camille and I had been left to die in the Catacomb tunnels beneath the city of Paris. (Mazurka, book 3 in LeGarde Mysteries) It had not been my favorite experience. But we’d survived that, and I knew we’d get through this, too.

  The wall was cool to the touch, and as we neared The Seacrest, it turned once again from dirt to wooden planks.

  “We’re close.�
� I almost fell sideways when the wall disappeared. “Whoa. It must be one of the rooms.”

  “Mason’s waking up. We need to get him up to ground level. He needs to be fed. And I’m sure he could use some warmer clothes, poor little guy.”

  The boy began to fuss. Focusing harder, now, I tried to picture the layout of the end of the tunnel. There were four rooms built into the side of the tunnel. It was the last on the left that held the ladder and trap door.

  We moved forward, and by luck I found the start of the wall that separated the two rooms. Walking slower now, I was ready for the next room’s opening this time and stopped when I found it. “Okay. We need to take a left here, hon. I’m going to bring us around the perimeter of the room. When we reach the ladder, I want you to sit down against the wall with Mason. If you stay put, I can’t lose you.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to wander. I’m not leaving your side, husband.”

  “Good.” I found the ladder and settled my wife and the boy near it. Carefully, I reached one foot up. I found the broken step, climbed past it, and slowly made it to the top. The hatch was still open since I’d pulled off all the boards with the shears earlier in the day. But the boards—floorboards for the main aisle in the barn—had been replaced.

  I took a deep breath and hoped that Finn or Scout hadn’t nailed them down again.

  I pushed up on one board. It didn’t budge.

  No way.

  I almost felt as if I were in déjà vu, or in one of those crazy live-your-day-over-and-over-again movies. Would I ever get out of this tunnel?

  I told myself to pay attention to the matter at hand.

  I shoved again, and this time I felt the board wiggle in its slot. Once I realized it wasn’t nailed down, but had been wedged into the available space, I grew hopeful. Again, the sound of horses’ hooves clomping on wood met my ears.

  When the first board finally lifted up, the room below was flooded with light. I blinked and smiled down at Camille. “Almost there.”

  I lifted the second and third boards, and then poked my head up into the barn. “Hello?”

  The sound of voices came from outside. I called again.

  “Hello?”

  Scout Remington came around the corner, followed by Jack, who to my great relief was already back from the hospital. How long had it been? Two, three hours? I’d completely lost track of time.

  “Gus? What the heck? Twice in one day?”

  I made my apologies and explained what had happened, kneeling down to gesture to my wife and the baby.

  “Jack told me about Marla.” Scout stared down at the baby. “Are you okay, Camille?”

  “I’m okay, but Mason’s not too happy. We’ll both be better when we’re back on ground level.”

  Scout came to life. “Right. Let’s get you guys out of there.”

  “I don’t know if I can climb up the ladder without dropping him.”

  Scout held up a hand. “Wait a sec. I have a baby backpack I can get for you.” She came back in a few minutes with the contraption.

  “Put it on me,” I said. “I’ll go back down and load Mason into it.”

  She showed me how the straps and buckles worked. Once it was secure, I climbed down again, crouching low so Camille could maneuver the wiggling boy into the pack. He wasn’t happy. I figured aside from wanting his mom, he just wanted to run around, like any other energetic little toddler who’d been cooped up for far too long.

  “Okay. He’s in. Be careful, Gus.”

  “Wait until I’m up there, and then start up the ladder. I’m not sure this old thing can hold us both.”

  She nodded. Her beautiful face had smears of dirt running down her cheeks where she’d been crying earlier. But there was resolution in her eyes. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

  I had to compensate for the weight on my back, but once I figured it out, I carefully climbed the ladder without further problems. Jack helped me up and Scout lifted the child from the pack.

  Camille started up the ladder. Once she was up, I hugged her close. She held on tight, and then reached for Mason, who had started to cry.

  Scout had tried to bounce him, but it wasn’t working. “It’s okay, baby boy.” Nothing helped and his wails grew louder. “I think he wants you.”

  “What he really wants is his mother.” Camille took him in her arms, began to sing “Frère Jacques,” and he soon settled against her chest, sucking his thumb.

  Jack touched my shoulder. “Gus?”

  I turned to him. “Yes?”

  “Jane, Robbie, Beckett, and Albert are all at the Cooks’ house. The four of them should be okay. The hospital was so crowded that they treated them right in the waiting room. Jane and Albert both came around before they got to the hospital, so it wasn’t as serious as we first thought. Jane needs to lay low for a while, in case she has a mild concussion. And Albert needs to remember to take his blood pressure medicine, which apparently he forgot in all the craziness of the storm and because of his hunt for the treasure.”

  “And Robbie?” I asked.

  “He got a few bags of IV fluids, again, right out there in the waiting room, but they released him, too, and told him to see his primary care doctor when all the chaos of the storm is over. I guess even doctors have doctors, right?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Did they give him any other instructions? I mean, he was locked up down there for months.”

  “They told him to eat fresh fruit and veggies and hang out in the sun a few hours per day. And take a shower. Since he’s a physician, I think that sped up the whole process of releasing the other two. He promised to keep his eye on them.”

  “Thank God,” I said. “I hate hospitals, and I’m sure they were anxious to get home. Especially Jane. Is she going crazy for her son?”

  Jack nodded. “It was tough. She wanted to go search for Marla and her baby, but Robbie and Beckett insisted she wait in bed until I found out what had happened with you two. They practically had to tie her down.”

  Camille nodded. “Nobody would keep me from my child. I can only imagine what she’s going through.”

  Jack nodded. “Agreed. I was just about to head over there when you popped out of the ground again.”

  Camille sighed. “Marla’s still on the loose. We think she’s in the house, and she might not realize we escaped with the baby.”

  I went on to explain how Marla had locked us down in the cellar, where we’d found Mason, and that she’d finally shut off the lights. “Once she discovers him missing, she might come back for him. I’m not sure what her motives are. They’re certainly not predictable.”

  Camille rolled her eyes. “That’s for sure.”

  “We’ll have to be ready for her,” I said. “But Winston came home when you guys returned from the hospital and we’re not certain what’s going on with him.”

  “I dropped him off after I let the other folks off at the Cooks’ place,” Jack said.

  “Well, we heard Marla arguing with him while we were locked in the closet, but once we got out, we couldn’t find him. I’m not sure what she did with him. She went off to the beach for a while in the dune buggy, but she came back.”

  “Do you think she dropped him somewhere?”

  “No idea. And Jack, she’s dangerous. She’s still got the rifle.”

  “Why don’t you come in and clean up? We can make you some coffee and give you some clean clothes to borrow. Then I’ll drive you over to the Cooks’ house, and you and I can head back to the Waterfords’ after that, if you want,” Jack said. “You’ll be glad to know they’ve restored power to most of the beach roads in the last hour.”

  Camille and I exchanged a relieved glance.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 36

  The reunion of mother and son brought tears to my eyes. Mason held his arms out for Jane the instant he saw her, crying “Mama.” Jane wept for joy, clutching him to her breast and smothering him with kisses. Albert c
ircled both of them in a big hug and Robbie moved in close to reconnect with his nephew. He’d managed to change out of the dirty rags he’d been wearing since Memorial Day and had even taken a shower. He looked like a different person, except for his ragged beard and long hair. After he cleaned up, I saw that his hair was actually a strawberry blond color, just like his sister’s.

  Albert stepped back from them and approached me, hope shining in his eyes. “Did you find them? Did you find the crosses in that hellhole?”

  I gave his arm a squeeze. “I tried, Albert. I really did. I searched through a bunch of trunks and boxes, and there’s a wealth of treasure down there, but as far as I could see, it’s not from your ancestors. Like I said earlier, I did find the Reverend Cook’s sea chest, but no gold crosses.”

  “Oh.” His face fell. “Well, thanks anyway.”

  “Listen. I actually didn’t get to finish the search. Maybe we can go back down there when this is all over and look some more.”

  His eyes lit up again. “All right, sonny. You’ve got a deal.”

  As much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare linger to catch up with my new friends. There would be plenty of time for that after we took care of Marla.

  “Ready?” Jack said, tucking his brother-in-law’s revolver into the back of his jeans.

  “Ready.” I kissed Camille and turned to the Cook family. “I’ll be back soon to tell you more about what I found in the cellars under the McNabb mansion. But remember, Marla’s capable of anything. She may come back for Mason, and she still has a rifle.”

  Albert pointed to his own rifle by the front door. “By golly, I’ll be ready for her if she dares step foot on this property.”

  I worried that he might shoot first and ask questions later. His eyes flared with anger.

  “Be careful, Albert. If you threaten her, she might shoot back and hurt someone else before you can react.”

  Camille said, “Why don’t Jane and I go upstairs with the baby? We can lock ourselves in the bedroom, and if she comes, then we’ll lock ourselves in the master bathroom. At least that way he’ll be safer. And if she doesn’t see him, maybe she won’t get even more vengeful.”