Dark Deeds: An Asher Blaine Mystery (Asher Blaine Mysteries Book 2)

by Alice Sabo

  Asher knew it was an expensive model. Ellie had told him to be careful with it. He had been. She wasn’t mad at him for it getting drowned in the car. That was completely not his fault. “Is there one that is a little tougher?”

  “Let me show you—”

  Asher cut him off with a wave of his hand. “No. I don’t know enough.” He turned to Jeff, who was perusing the second-hand shelf. “Do you know about this stuff?”

  Jeff nodded.

  Asher beckoned him closer. “Talk techno-geek.”

  “What do you want it to do?” Jeff asked.

  “I want something that can handle being carted around and maybe bad weather,” Asher said. He listened while the two chatted. A lot of it went totally over his head. He had worried, at one point, that he might need to know these things, but Ellie had told him he only needed to know how to work them. That much he’d figured out.

  Jeff turned back to him with a report. “I think this one is probably the best, but it’s expensive. This other one will do what you want for about three hundred less.”

  “Get the best one,” Asher said. Aaron beamed. Jeff’s eyes popped a little.

  “Should be here next week,” Aaron said with a grin.

  Asher gave him a credit card and contact information. He made a series of quick phone calls letting people know he was reachable again. Then they were off to the stables.

  Ed wasn’t there, but a young girl, about Jeff’s age, met them at the door. She introduced herself as Amy, then followed them around without saying much. Jeff gave her a couple of shy glances. Jo helped Asher hand out carrots.

  “Can I ride one of the horses?” Jo asked.

  “I don’t know,” Asher asked. He turned to Amy.

  “These are working horses, not pets,” she said with a tone of repeating something she’d heard. “Dad has to approve people before they can ride.”

  “Oh, well maybe you can be an extra,” Asher said to Jo.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “You get paid,” Amy said. “I’d like to do that.”

  “Me, too?” Jeff asked.

  Asher smiled at them, sorry he’d brought the topic up. “I’ll ask George. If he needs some villagers or something, I’m sure he’ll use you guys.” He pulled out his phone to check the time. “Let’s get some lunch. I don’t want to be late for Bunny.”

  Jeff wanted to try the Indian place where Asher had eaten with Bunny. Jo was a bit reticent. She said she’d never had Indian food. Her stoic look suggested she’d submitted to Jeff’s experiments one too many times. Asher ordered okra pakoras and samosas to share, as fried things usually went over well. He got each of them a bowl of dal to start, along with naan, roti and papadums, two kinds of chutney and some plain yogurt. As the server began delivering dish after dish, it was a lot more food than Asher realized. Surveying the laden table, he decided he needed to take up jogging.

  Chapter 27

  Jeff waxed poetic about the spices and sauces. Jo said she liked the papadums because they were crunchy. Her comment was delivered with such sincerity that Asher asked her if she would like the chicken fingers off the children’s menu. She blushed a deep pink, but nodded without looking at her brother. Asher encouraged her to try the breads and a little bit of curry on a lot of rice.

  After lunch, which Asher encouraged the Cahills to eat the major portion of, they headed to the costume shop on the road to Jenkinsville. He only vaguely remembered where it was. Bunny had pointed it out when they’d gone to the fabric store. He asked Jeff about it.

  Jeff started the car, but didn’t put it into gear. “There isn’t anything on Jenkinsville Road.”

  “Miss Anderson lives on Jenkinsville,” Jo said contrarily.

  “Yeah, but I meant office buildings. There isn’t anything like that out there.”

  “I doubt he’s in an office building,” Asher said. He called Bunny, ridiculously pleased to have his phone back. “He said it’s the shopping center that isn’t finished.”

  “Oh.” Jeff gave him a puzzled frown. “I thought that place was abandoned.”

  Asher held up the phone. “That’s what the man said.”

  “He said he worked in odd places,” Jo commented.

  Asher hid a grin. Kids remembered stuff, whether you wanted them to or not. Jeff said he knew where to go and took off abruptly.

  “Easy!” Asher yelped, scrambling for handholds.

  “Sorry,” Jeff grumbled as he proceeded at a crawl back through Left Fork.

  Asher knew Jeff was over compensating to be annoying but decided to ignore it. Once out of town, Jeff sped up to a hair over the speed limit on the way back to Jenkinsville. They passed the fabric store, so Asher knew they were close. Jeff approached the muddy mess of a parking lot slowly and stopped dead when he saw the building. Asher realized that this was the other end of the empty lot he and Bunny had commented on. From the street, a school-bus-sized mound of dirt hid the construction and incidentally caused the muddy runoff into the roadway. Today all the plastic sheeting was removed revealing that a large steel frame for a shopping center was up, but not much more. It was enough space for six good-sized stores. One end had a larger space, grocery store big. Then there were four spaces that could hold the typical shoe or dress stores. The other end probably had started as another big space, but now it was a castle.

  “That is so cool,” Jeff said in a thoroughly fanboy tone.

  “So that’s where they’re building it,” Asher said.

  “They’re going to build a whole castle here?” Jo asked, excitement in her voice.

  “I don’t think so. Probably just the facade and a room or two on the inside,” Asher said. “I don’t think a whole lot goes on in the castle. Otherwise we’d be filming in Hungary or Poland where they have real castles.”

  “Oh,” Jo said wistfully. “Well, half a castle’s better than none.”

  Asher hoped that she would get a chance to go to Europe and see those castles for herself. And he made himself another of many promises, to take Thomas and Sharon to Europe when they were a little older.

  They entered through the door that had a large sign posted that said “If you aren’t a carpenter or painter go in here.” There was a long narrow aisle between plywood walls that led to a steel staircase. The air smelled of raw wood and paint. The grinding zip of screw guns punctuated the buzz of saws and the deep rumble of an air compressor. On the second floor a maze of smaller rooms had been created with more plywood. Signs in a variety of styles, from printed and laminated to spray paint, pointed the way to offices, storage, wardrobe, props, weapons and security.

  Asher led them through the maze to wardrobe. They entered a large, square room that was well lit. The whirring sound of sewing machines competed with the construction noises from below.

  “You’re late,” Bunny said, without looking up from the fabric he was cutting at a long table at one side of the room. Three women and two men sat with heads down at industrial sewing machines across the back of the room. Garment racks were parked randomly around the space, mannequins in half-finished outfits, shelving stuffed full of fabric, ribbon and lace took up almost all of the rest of the room.

  Asher checked the time on his phone. “You said two thirty. It’s only two twenty-eight.”

  Bunny glanced at a massive clock that took up all of the side wall and wouldn’t look out of place on a church steeple. The hands indicated that it was 3:00.

  “That’s wrong,” Jeff said, holding up his wristwatch.

  Bunny sniffed. “Well don’t just stand there.” He waved at a curtained alcove tucked between steel shelving units. “Strip.”

  One of the seamstresses peeked over her machine, wide-eyed. Asher gave her a wink. Then he found a place for Jeff and Jo to sit, out of the way, while he played clothes horse for Bunny. He dressed in tights and doublet, then swashbuckler’s blouse and vest, then a long hooded robe and finally some extremely heavy chainmail that hung almost to his knees.
Other than the mail, everything was held together with long loose stitches so Asher had to get into them carefully. Bunny marked bits with chalk, tugged on things and muttered under his breath.

  “I think you’re going to need to wear this to get used to moving in it,” Bunny said as he helped Asher out of the chainmail.

  “No kidding,” Asher said sourly. “Please tell me there isn’t any of the solid stuff.”

  “No plate armor that I am planning,” Bunny said.

  “How many scenes do I need that for?” Asher shucked off the padded coat that went under the mail. He was down to only the leggings and heard all the sewing machines stop.

  “All the battle scenes, at least,” Bunny said as he consulted his notes. “I think maybe others.” Bunny turned, hands on hips to remonstrate his workers. The machines started up again.

  Asher grinned. He loved being the center of attention in a controlled situation like this. A small admiring audience was catnip to him. He glanced over to see Jo was very pink, and Jeff was smirking. He gave them a wink. “Can I take this with me?” he asked hefting the chainmail.

  Bunny nodded. “Don’t lose it. I haven’t found a blacksmith out here to work with, yet.”

  Asher held up the heavy coat. “How could I possibly lose it?” He had a bad feeling that he was going to have to start training in the damn thing. Now he had an excuse for all the rich food he’d eaten. After a couple sessions in this thing, he’d sweat off ten pounds.

  “I don’t think Imre will want you working in that right off.”

  “Thank God for that,” Asher muttered.

  “He got in last night, by the way,” Bunny added off handedly.

  “Imre?”

  “Mm. He’s in the cottage between us. You should pop in to see him.”

  “Right,” Asher grumbled. He had a rush of nerves thinking about it. The training wouldn’t be bad. It was thinking about what he was training for.

  “I need you in the green leggings and black boots with the ecru shirt and gold brocade vest next.” Bunny pulled items off a rack as he spoke. “Where’s the green velvet frock coat?”

  Asher was about to return to the changing alcove when a man knocked on the open door.

  “Mr. um, er Bunny?” he asked uneasily. He was slender, with brown eyes, white-blonde hair and a long hawkish nose. Asher pegged him at late twenties, early thirties. He gawked at Asher in nothing but leggings. “Hey, I was told this was going to be a PG-rated film.”

  Asher laughed. “This is the costume shop. We aren’t filming in here.” Although he had a gleeful snicker at being mistaken for a porn star. That meant he really was in good shape.

  Bunny handed Asher an armful of clothes and pushed him toward the alcove. “Go!” He confronted the stranger as Asher stepped behind the curtain. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

  “I’m John Landers. I own this building.”

  “Oh do you.” Bunny’s response was curt. “You may own the place, but that doesn’t mean you get to walk in anywhere. You’re lucky I was working with Asher. He doesn’t care who sees him. If I’d had any of the women in here, you’d be out on your ear.”

  “I, um, sorry. . .I came to. . .um. . .”

  “Spit it out,” Bunny snapped. “Why are you here?”

  Asher peeked out of the curtain to see the reaction. Landers was staring at Bunny, sputtering.

  “I came to introduce myself and um. . .”

  “Hang around a movie set,” Bunny said scowling at him.

  Asher came out in the new outfit which was stiff and making him sweat. Period dress always seemed to have too many layers. “Don’t be so mean, Bunny.” All eyes turned on him, and he preened a little. Even without a mirror, he could tell that he was impressive. The velvet frock coat accentuated his shoulders and the vest cinched in his waist. His legs didn’t look too bad in the tights, either. An image floated up in his brain tarnishing the moment. He’d had a photo of himself in a similar outfit, junkie-thin and looking like hell. It had been a reminder of how far he’d fallen. Here he was, nearly full circle, in tights and lace again.

  “Peacock,” Bunny grumbled under his breath, but there was a definite tone of affection there.

  Asher’s cloud vanished. This was his chance to prove how much he’d changed for the better. He flashed a smile at Bunny then strolled over to Landers. “Asher Blaine,” he said with a sweeping bow. “Let me warn you that this is Bunny’s domain and trespassers will be sewn into the walls.”

  “Stop that!” Bunny barked. “If you burst those seams I will make you wear full plate armor. With greaves. And a helmet with a horsetail. Now get over here. That hem is totally wrong.”

  Asher winked at Landers. “Security will be tight. Don’t wander,” he said in an undertone.

  Landers nodded glassy-eyed and bewildered.

  Bunny pointed at Landers. “You, out! I’m working.” Then he stamped his foot. “Asher, now!”

  The rest of the fitting was done in silence. When Bunny indicated he was done, Asher changed into his street clothes, gathered up the Cahills and went back out to the car. Landers was sitting on a pile of cinder block in the parking lot staring at the castle. Asher waved at him. That seemed to be an invitation because Landers came over.

  “I can’t believe they’re building a castle,” Landers said.

  “It’s cool,” Jeff said.

  “I hadn’t expected that when they said they wanted to rent the space.”

  “They didn’t mention the castle?”

  “Well, no, not as such. I mean I gave approval for alterations to the exterior, but. . .” Landers watched the workers. Over a wall of plywood, a layer of plaster had been applied, then shaped and painted to look like ancient stone. The areas that were in progress looked surreal, plywood in one place then hundred-year-old stone right next to it.

  “Does it tie up construction?” Asher asked kindly. From the appearance of the place, construction had halted quite awhile ago.

  “No, one of my partners backed out.” Landers gazed across the muddy parking lot with a wistfulness in his eyes. “This land has been in my family for generations. I thought I could do something worthwhile here.”

  “No, this is Jenkins land,” Jeff said, a wary tone in his voice.

  Landers nodded. “This is my cousin’s land. Elizabeth Jenkins. She’s co-owner.”

  “I didn’t think there were any Jenkins left,” Jeff said quietly.

  “Well there’s my grandmother, cousin Elizabeth and me.”

  “But you’re not from around here,” Jeff insisted.

  “No. Elizabeth’s in Charlotte. Grandma’s got a sweet little cottage on the Outer Banks. I just moved here. Got a rental over in Left Fork.”

  “Why would you move here?” Jeff said with exasperation.

  Landers looked at him, wide-eyed with surprise. “It’s beautiful. It’s where my family’s from.”

  “But they all got killed!” Jo said in a squeak.

  Landers was saved from answering by the arrival of Sheriff Danson. That might mean new developments. Or it might mean he was following Asher around which sent a nervous jab through his guts. Asher bit his lip to remind himself to think carefully before speaking. He was sure there were going to be some odd questions.

  Danson rolled his eyes at them. “Blaine? Why are you everywhere?”

  “Lucky?” Asher said, knowing he shouldn’t have.

  After a scowl at Asher, the sheriff turned to the new comer. “You John Landers?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Are you acting as the spokesperson for the family in matters concerning Jenkins properties?”

  Asher caught the formal shape of the question. The back of his neck prickled with dread.

  Landers squirmed a little. “Is this about renting to the film company? Because I’ve gone over all the permits again.”

  “No sir. Maybe we should speak in private.”

  Asher didn’t like the sound of that. Landers sucked
in a breath glancing at his companions. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Speak.”

  “A body was found on Jenkins land.”

  “Another one?” Asher said, his voice a bit louder than it should have been. His bad feelings doubled down.

  “No.” Danson frowned at him. “It’s the same one. He wasn’t on Erwin’s land. Over the line on to Jenkins land.”

  “But it’s not Brent,” Asher said. He got the feeling Danson was holding on to his temper with both hands, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking questions.

  “No. Mr. Ordly was killed in the rollover. That has nothing to do with the body we found on Jenkins land. We are waiting on DNA to identify the victim.” Danson’s words were clipped.

  “Who was shot,” Asher added. “And then mauled by coyotes?”

  Danson shook his head. “I don’t think animals had anything to do with what happened.”

  “Coyotes?” Landers asked. “Out here?”

  “That’s not important,” Danson snapped, glaring at Asher. He forcibly calmed himself before turning to Landers. “I need to get a rundown of your activities over the past week.”

  “Me?” Landers blinked at him in shock. His mouth fell open as he shook his head slowly. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  Asher took that as his cue. “I don’t think you need us here.” He snatched at the kids, dragging them toward the car.

  Chapter 28

  “He isn’t at all what I figured,” Jeff commented as he drove them back to the Kozy Kottages.

  “Bunny?” Asher asked.

  “No, the Jenkins guy.”

  “He seemed nice enough,” Jo added from the back seat.

  “Yeah. I guess,” Jeff mumbled.

  The rest of the journey was silent, and Asher changed gears. The chainmail lay heavily in his lap. For some reason that made things more real. This movie was going to be a lot of work. There were going to be strangers. Maybe some people that he’d worked with before that had had nasty experiences with him. There was a good chance someone would have a grudge against him, and he would have to deal with it. But underneath the dread, a bubble of excitement was building. He was back on a movie that would require his best work. He stroked the mail, shiny and cold under his hand. Asher would be surrounded by professionals at the top of their field. For the first time since he signed the contract, it felt like it really was going to happen. His anxiety became anticipation. The taste of an admiring audience that he’d experienced in the costume shop had him eager to get back to the business of acting.