by Patricia Fry
She stopped stirring the pot and looked over at her husband. She shook her head. "No. Not that I know of. No phone calls…nothing. Thank heavens!" She set the spoon down, wiped her hands on a nearby towel, and said, "Oh, that reminds me. Craig's coming over this evening.
Says he has something he wants to tell us. Also, he'll bring the restraining order for me to sign." She looked at the clock. "He should be here in an hour."
Chapter 7
When Craig arrived, his demeanor seemed dour.
Michael was first to greet him. "Uh-oh, doesn't look like you're bringing good news."
"Not really," Craig said. "…just not much news. It's been a long day."
"Come on in," Michael invited.
Before the men could sit down, Savannah appeared with the baby monitor in her hand. Craig looked up. "Oh, did I miss seeing the angel girl?" he asked, sounding disappointed. "She was going to be my only bright spot today."
"Well, come on, then," Savannah said. "She's sleeping, but you can peek in on her if you like."
The rugged detective gazed down at the sleeping baby through blue eyes under graying brows. Savannah heard him sigh. He smoothed Lily's soft hair with one hand and said, "This is what it's all about, isn't it, guys?"
Savannah and Michael nodded. Savannah kissed her hand and softly patted the baby's chubby cheek with it. "Night-night," she said just before they exited the nursery.
"Thank you," Craig said when they'd settled in the living room. "That's the reality fix I needed."
"Reality fix?" Savannah questioned.
"Yeah, like I said, this is what it's all about—our precious, innocent little ones. So important." He looked at Michael and then at Savannah. "They are our future, you know. And we have to prepare them." He looked down at the folder he held in his hands. "If we don't prepare them, they may not make it in the world outside of their innocence."
Craig suddenly looked up. "Sorry guys. I got lost in my thoughts there for a minute. Just thinking about all of the kids who don't get the love, care, and guidance they're entitled to and those who get it and still mess up."
Savannah softened her voice. "You're thinking about your son, aren't you, Craig?"
He took a deep breath and sat up straighter. "Yes, and all of the what-ifs that drive the parent of a dead child crazy."
"How long ago did you lose him?" she asked.
"Oh gosh, it's been nearly twenty years." He ran his hand over his chin and said, "But I've been given somewhat of a second chance, getting to be involved with Iris's boys." He looked from Michael to Savannah. "You know, Damon and I have become great friends."
"That is so awesome," Michael said. "He's a super young man." He pointed at Craig. "You know, he and I have a construction project."
Craig smiled. "Yeah, I heard about that. He's looking forward to 'learning from the master,' as he says."
Michael looked down, shaking his head. "I don't know about that. But I'm looking forward to the project, too."
"Good," Craig said. He then slapped the file folder on his lap. "Now, for the reason I wanted to see you two…I have the restraining order form here. Savannah, all you have to do is sign it, take it to the clerk, and appear in court. You haven't seen that jerk around you since we talked, have you?"
"No, thank heavens," Savannah said. "I presumed you had a talk with him."
"Yeah. That I did. That I did," Craig said, narrowing his eyes. "He'd be a fool to bother you again."
Savannah's eyes widened. "Oh gosh. What did you do to him?"
Craig just looked at her with a sideways grin.
"Whatever it was, thank you, Craig," Michael said, taking Savannah's hand and squeezing it.
"You are welcome." He smirked, saying, "It was a pleasure."
"Now what about the investigation, Craig?" Savannah asked.
"Well, we've been questioning Cheryl. She doesn't know how her scarf ended up in Julie's room. I'm inclined to believe her, although her DNA was on the body, as was Lance's."
"So they attacked her together?" Savannah asked, her eyes wide.
Craig chuckled. "I hadn't thought of that. Maybe. But no, I'm thinking it was because Julie and Cheryl had that scuffle earlier in the day. And we all saw Lance all over her that afternoon, too."
Savannah rolled her eyes. "We sure did."
Craig looked thoughtful for a moment. "I have a question. Do either of you remember Cheryl or Lance handling Adam's fire engine at any time? Did either of them have access to it that you know of?"
Michael frowned. "Why?"
Craig mumbled, "Murder weapon."
"What?" Savannah and Michael asked.
Craig took a deep breath. "It was the murder weapon, guys."
"Good lord," Michael said, dropping his head. "I was hoping that wasn't the case."
"It was one of his special toys," Savannah said.
"We'll get it back to you eventually."
"No!" Savannah almost shouted. "We'll get him another one. We don't want that back."
"I agree," Michael said with a scowl.
"So whose prints did you find on it?" Savannah asked.
"Both," Craig said.
"Both Lance and Cheryl?" Michael asked.
He nodded. "You got it. So did you see either of them handling that toy?"
Michael and Savannah looked at one another and then back at Craig. "Heck, I don't think so," Savannah said.
"Well, tell me this—were either of them in that room at any time that you know of?"
Savannah leaned forward. "Yeah, both of them. Everyone walked up the stairs with us that morning when we were assigning rooms."
Michael chuckled. "Assigning rooms? You sound like some sort of cruise director."
Savannah slapped at him playfully. "Oh stop. You know what I mean. I showed Adam's room second—after showing DeeDee and Raymond the healing room…er…uh, the room at the top of the stairs on the left."
Craig expressed keen interest. "So everyone went into Adam's room that morning…with the exception of DeeDee and her husband?"
Savannah thought for a moment. "Well, yeah, I guess so." She then leaned forward and said, "Actually, DeeDee and Raymond also came into Adam's room. But not Crank and James. They didn't come in at all." Craig looked confused. "Well, everyone wanted to see all the rooms." She paused and then looked point-blank at Craig and said, "That's when I remembered that Cheryl and Julie would probably not want to bunk together and I offered the option of the nursery to one of them."
"So Cheryl and Lance were both inside the room where Julie slept that night, is that right?" Craig asked.
Savannah nodded. "Yes."
He looked into her face. "Did you see either of them touch that toy fire engine?"
"Let's see, someone picked it up. That I remember. I mean, it's really an interesting toy, don't you think? And Adam keeps it on that shelf just inside the door. It would be easy for someone just barely stepping into that room to see it and want to touch it."
"Show me, would you?"
"Show you where the fire engine was?"
"Yes."
Once inside Adam's room, Savannah pointed to the shelf where the fire engine always sat. She then gasped. "I do remember something," she said. "Rob picked the fire engine up. I saw him out the corner of my eye. He held it toward Lance and said something like, 'did you ever have any toys as sophisticated as this?' Lance took it and…"
"Lance held it in his hands, then?" Craig asked for clarification.
"Yes," she said, her memory of that incident now clear. "Lance examined it, handed it back to Rob, and Rob held it over to Cheryl and teased her with it."
"Teased her?" Craig said.
"Yes, he held it up close to her and made siren sounds." She sighed. "Filmmakers can be so juvenile. They were always doing things like that—like a bunch of kids."
"So what did Cheryl do?" Craig asked.
"She put her hands up and pushed the engine away from her face."
"So she put her h
ands on the toy, is that right?"
"Yes, she did, as a matter of fact," Savannah said. "Both Cheryl and Lance touched it and so did Rob."
"Damn!" Craig said. "There goes my open-and-shut case."
****
The following Sunday morning, Michael and Damon headed for the library. "Are you ready to learn the building business?" Michael asked.
"Yeah. Sure am."
"You won't give up your day job, will you?"
"Naw." Damon hesitated and then said, "I might leave the newspaper at some point, but I don't plan to give up writing. I'm hooked." He chuckled. "Colbi says I found my passion in prison." He thought for a moment and then said, "You wouldn't be able to give up your veterinary practice, would you?"
"No. Nor would I be happy if I couldn't work with wood." Michael glanced at his passenger and said, "Passion, huh? I guess helping animals, educating people about animals, and working with wood are my passions."
Upon arriving at the library, the two men used the key Glenda had given them to enter through the heavy gate into the secret garden. Michael looked around. "Here we are. Nobody around. Not too hot. Good working conditions. Shall we get started?"
"Sure, you take the lead. I'll follow," Damon said. "So where do we start?"
"Here," Michael said, handing Damon a large sledge hammer. "Demolition."
Once the men had taken down the wall and part of the deck on the other side of it, they walked down all eleven steps into a dark and dank room. As they looked around with flashlights, Michael remarked, "I still can't believe they didn't clean out this room before building that wall. Must have been a quickie job."
Damon removed his baseball cap and slid it back on again. "Hey, there's the little light we saw through the hole," he said. "Look, it's a chest freezer…still plugged in."
The two men looked askance at their discovery. "That's really strange, isn't it? I mean, why would a library need a freezer—especially one that size. Must be fifteen cubic feet. It would hold a lot."
"If they had a microwave, I'd say it was for their frozen weight-loss lunches or something," Damon said. "But why would they leave it down here like that?"
"Well, shall we see what's for dinner?" Michael quipped as he prepared to lift the lid. "Locked," he said, when the lid refused to budge.
"Or frozen shut," Damon suggested.
"Do you see a key hanging anywhere?"
"No," he said shining his light around, "but I see a nail right there above the freezer where one might have hung. Maybe a rat knocked it off." Damon knelt down and searched the floor with his flashlight. Finding nothing, he said, as if thinking out loud, "This sure is a strange place for a freezer. I wonder how long it's been running."
Michael shined his flashlight over and around the freezer. "Probably for as long as this room has been boarded up—maybe four years or more." He stared at the dust-covered unit. "Maybe a hunter stored his venison inside and brought it over here so he didn't have to pay the electric bill."
"But how would he get to his meat when he got hungry?" Damon asked, playing devil's advocate.
"Okay," Michael said, "maybe the guy died or moved away and forgot about it." He stared down at the freezer. "You know, I'm sure they're just going to toss this old thing out anyway. Is there any reason why we can't break into it? I'd like to find out what's in it before we commit it to the dump."
"So what do you think we need—a crowbar?" Damon asked.
"Yeah." Michael looked at his watch. He said, "I have an appointment with a sick rescue dog over at Zelma's place soon. Won't take long. How about we spend this morning taking measurements and making a list of what we'll need. You can go with me on the call and then we'll get our supplies. We'll bring a crowbar back with us."
"So tell me what you propose we do," Damon said. "I can't quite visualize how we'll get from point A to point B."
Michael took off his cap and scratched his head. "Well, I could tell you what I envision, but it might be easier for both of us if we just start working and we can talk about it as we go. What I think will work now, might not work when we get to that point. But our objective is to extend the walls on the sides of the staircase, out and around it." He climbed the stairs and motioned. "…out to here. Then we'll install a sturdy door with a good lock. Can you visualize it?"
"Yeah, I can. I'm just not sure how the construction will go." He looked around and asked, "What about the deck?"
Michael surveyed the situation beyond the stairwell and said, "There's no reason why we can't build a new wall beyond the stairwell opening and preserve the deck. What do you think?" When Damon looked confused, Michael said, "Once you've done a few jobs like this, you'll get the knack for visualizing the process. It takes practice."
****
Two hours later, after treating the injured dog, ordering materials at Michael's favorite building supply company, and grabbing a quick lunch, the pair returned to the library.
"When will they deliver the rest of the stuff?" Damon asked.
"Hopefully, this afternoon. If not, I'll meet them here tomorrow after hours. I want to rig some lights in case we feel like working into the night."
"Sounds good," Damon said. "So how long do you think this job will take?"
"Probably most of the week, working nights. We may need next Sunday to finish. We'll see how it goes." Michael looked over at Damon. "Are ya ready, guy?" he asked.
"Sure."
The men struggled to carry in the supplies they'd purchased. Once inside the secret garden, Michael said, "This is not an ideal set-up, but it's nice to have all this space just outside the room. We can set up downstairs for the work down there and up here for the work at this level. Kinda convenient." He turned to Damon. "Not every job is convenient. Sometimes you have to get in some pretty contorted positions."
"Will we have to break down every night?"
"No. I promised to finish in a week if they will keep this area closed off for the duration. No secret garden for the next week," Michael said. "And the staff and volunteer deck will be off-limits, too, until we get a new wall up. Thankfully, there is a solid wall surrounding three sides of the deck, so it is secure, as long as they keep the doors locked from the library proper to the courtyard and the deck until we've finished building."
Yes, that will be convenient," Damon said. "Where do you want these?" he asked, holding up a couple of Michael's tools.
"Downstairs, if you don't mind," he said.
A few minutes later, Michael heard Damon call out, "Michael! Michael! Come down here! You're not going to believe this!"
"What? Did you find a big rat?" he said laughing.
"No! Hurry!" Damon said.
Michael rushed down the steps to find Damon shining his flashlight toward a bare wall where the freezer had been just hours earlier. "What the heck…" Michael said under his breath. Suddenly he turned and scanned the area with his own flashlight and let out a sigh of relief. "All my tools seem to be here."
"But why would anyone come in here and take that old freezer?" Damon asked.
"Man, I don't know," Michael said. "This just keeps getting weirder."
Chapter 8
Michael pulled into his driveway just after dark Sunday evening and parked. "Oh, hi, hon," he said as he stepped up onto the wrap-around porch and saw Savannah standing in the doorway.
"Gosh, you look beat, Michael," she said as they entered the living room. How'd the project at the library go? Did you enjoy mentoring Damon?"
Michael eased out of his jacket and removed his baseball cap, tossing both on the loveseat. "It went pretty well," he said, as he sat and pulled off his shoes and socks. He leaned back and said, "Yeah, we got a lot done and had a good time. Damon's a pretty good worker and a fast learner."
"So what did you find in that secret room once you tore the wall down? Anything creepy?" she asked.
He laughed. "Creepy? Yeah, there were creepy crawlers, for sure." He ran his hand through his hair. "The games and puzzles Magg
ie talked about were still there. Can you believe it?"
"You mean that room was frozen in time and space?" Savannah said. "Now that's eerie, don't you think?"
He sat up, his eyes wide. "You want to hear something eerie? Damon and I still can't believe it."
"What?" she asked.
"There was this old freezer down there; plugged in and running."
"Really?" she said. "Now that is weird."
"But wait until you hear this. So we leave for a couple of hours to buy supplies and grab a bite to eat. When we get back, that freezer is gone."
Savannah creased her brow. "What? Gone? But who would…?"
"I don't have a clue." He hesitated and then said, "Someone with a key, I guess. We locked everything up. I left my tools…"
"Did they take your tools?"
"No. Not even that new drill I just bought. Just the old freezer."
"What was in it, do you know?" she asked.
"Don't know. It was locked. We brought back a crowbar to pry it open before we disposed of it. But it was already gone." He shook his head. "A real mystery."
"Did you tell Craig?"
"Craig?" Michael looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Well, it was a burglary, for one thing, and for another, it's just plain bizarre. It might be connected to other burglaries or something." She jumped a little in excitement. "Hey, you know how people sometimes hide their valuables in their home freezers? Maybe there's a burglary ring stealing freezers and fridges for the valuables."
Michael just stared at Savannah as she continued. "Or maybe they're stealing appliances for the metal. Is there copper or some other sought-after metal in old freezers? Or maybe it's an antique."
Michael shook his head and grinned. "Savannah, sometimes I think Craig's right—you would make a good detective. You sure have an imagination for it." He thought for a moment and then said, "Maybe you're right…"
"About old freezers being valuable?"
