Shelley Freydont - Celebration Bay 03 - Independence Slay

by Shelley Freydont

  “He was shot with an old musket? No one heard? It would have to have happened before the fireworks began, though it would have made more sense to wait and have the noise camouflaged. Just another one of the explosions.”

  Thank you, thank you. At least he was asking questions. “He wasn’t shot, he was bayoneted.”

  “Ugh.” Chaz went to the coffeepot and poured himself another cup.

  “Bill questioned Leo and sent him home. But someone threw a rock through the window of his house and his mother kicked him out. He’s staying with Phillip Schorr for the time being. We’re all concerned for his safety. Both from the killer and from some of the hotheads who were quick to accuse him of the murder because he’s a little different.”

  “Leo wouldn’t hurt anybody.” Chaz ran a hand over his face. “Bill will take care of it.”

  “He’s investigating the murder, of course, but I’m more concerned about Leo.”

  “Bill will put a security detail on him.”

  “He doesn’t have that kind of manpower.”

  “Then have your big marine from Bayside Security do it.”

  “Chaz, Leo needs your help. He trusts you. Are you going to throw him to the wolves?”

  “Don’t be overdramatic.”

  “I’m not. Bill may have to put Leo into protective custody until the murder’s solved.”

  “What? No way. Leo would be totally confused and frightened. It’s a terrible idea.”

  “I thought so, too, but Pastor Schorr doesn’t think he can keep him safe at the rectory, since he’d be left alone while Phillip goes about his church duties.”

  “So it’s Phillip now? You do get around.”

  “Chaz, for crying out loud. Do you want Leo behind bars, even if it’s only for his own safety?”

  “Bill can’t do that,” said Chaz. “Did Leo recognize the killer?”

  “He said it was the ghost. That he had a cape and no face.”

  “Probably covered in a nylon stocking, oldest disguise in the book. No leads?”

  “How would I know? I didn’t even know you were back.”

  Chaz put his mug on the table. “Is Leo there now? I’ll go talk to him.”

  At last, Liv thought, and followed him toward the door.

  He turned on her, stopping her mid-step. “Where are you going?”

  “With you.”

  “I thought you were here to clean my house.”

  “Then think again.”

  He leered at her, that smarmy smile, the humorous eyes. She never thought she’d say it, but she was relieved and happy that the old Chaz was finally making a comeback.

  They left through the back door, and Liv noticed that Chaz didn’t bother to lock it. It wasn’t a safe thing to do, but it was definitely a Chaz thing to do. Things were suddenly looking up.

  No one answered the bell at the rectory.

  “I doubt if Pastor Schorr is back from the service yet,” Liv said.

  Chaz rang again. “He’s probably been told not to open the door to anyone.”

  “Then we’ll have to wait.”

  They sat on the front steps.

  “People might get the wrong idea, us waiting here for the preacher,” Chaz said. He gave her knees an appraising look.

  Liv didn’t bother to answer, just pulled her skirt down.

  It was only a few minutes before they saw the pastor striding home, his black cassock whipping behind him.

  He lifted a hand when he saw Chaz and Liv sitting on his front steps.

  “Greeting or benediction?” Chaz said under his breath.

  Liv cut him a quelling look and stood.

  “I thought you might be here,” the pastor said without preamble. “Chaz, good to see you. I saw your lights the other night and figured you must be home. Leo will be glad to see you, too.”

  He unlocked the front door and ushered them in. Leo was sitting on the couch in front of the television, watching a cartoon that appeared to be Davey and Goliath.

  Phillip Schorr smiled apologetically. “I figured since he couldn’t be at Sunday school this morning, he could study his Bible. Though I suppose it’s rather inappropriate, considering my sermon today.”

  “Throwing the first stone,” Liv told Chaz.

  Leo looked up from the television and saw Chaz. “The ghost killed Mr. Rundle.”

  “So I heard. How’ve you been, man?”

  Leo jumped up. “Okay.”

  Chaz stuck out his hand, and he and Leo went through an elaborate handshake. “Learned in the Watts district of Los Angeles,” Chaz explained. “And good for what ails you.”

  He took Leo over to the couch. “So the ghost killed old Jacob Rundle, huh?”

  Leo nodded.

  “Wow, I would’ve been really scared if I’d seen Old Henry Gallantine’s ghost.”

  “I was,” Leo said, his eyes growing rounder. “I tried to hide where it was shadows so he wouldn’t see me.”

  “Smart move. See him but not let him see you.”

  Leo nodded again.

  “Huh,” Chaz said. “I sure wish I could’ve seen him. What does Old Henry look like anyway?”

  “Like the ghost.”

  “Ah, so sort of like Mr. Henry?”

  Liv watched as Chaz maneuvered his way through the most astute questioning she’d seen yet. A combination of back-country hillbilly and Boyz n the Hood that elicited more information than several prior questionings had. Leo seemed to completely forget that he’d been told not to discuss the events.

  The man was good, she had to admit.

  After a while, Chaz slapped Leo’s knee. “You’ve got the makings of a good reporter, you know that, Leo?”

  “I do?”

  “Yep. You do. Now I’m going to go have a look at where that ghost was myself.”

  Chaz started to get up, but Leo grabbed at his sleeve. “He’s mad. Don’t let him get you.”

  “Not to worry. If he tries to bother me, I’ll kick him in the shins.”

  Leo laughed. “Ghosts don’t have shins, Chaz.”

  “Oh yeah.” And, extricating himself from Leo’s grasp, he said good-bye to Pastor Schorr and headed to the door.

  Liv waved good-bye and followed him out.

  He stopped on the steps. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With you.”

  He gave her the once-over. “In those shoes?”

  “Yes, so no more of your sarcasm or I’ll kick you in the shins.”

  He shook his head. “You’d better stop listening to those violent sermons. Throwing stones. Kicking shins. Yeah.”

  He started off down the street, cocky as he ever was. He didn’t think she could keep up. But Liv hadn’t been an event planner in Manhattan for nothing. Once you learned to navigate potholes, delivery hatches, steam grates, and unrecognizable garbage in four-inch heels, running after Chaz in your Sunday shoes was a walk in the park.

  “You know, Hildy will never let you in,” Liv said when she caught up to him. “Even you at your most charming.”

  “Aw,” he said in a saccharine singsong. “Don’t need her to.”

  “How are you—?” Liv stopped, then had to run to catch up with him. “You know the secret way.”

  This time it was Chaz who stopped, surprised. “Do you?”

  “There really is a secret way? Leo said he came up the secret way. I wasn’t sure if it was really secret or just an outside stairway or fire escape.”

  Chaz smiled his slow, lazy smile. “Oh no, it’s much better than that.”

  Chapter Nine

  They didn’t go in the front gate but walked past the house and turned into someone’s driveway a half block later.

  “Who lives here?” asked Liv. “We’re not going to get shot for trespassin
g, are we?”

  “Hope not,” Chaz said, and kept walking.

  Several yards later, and without warning, Chaz ducked into the shrubbery lining the drive and disappeared from view.

  Liv’s first thought was that he was trying to lose her, and that just wasn’t going to happen. She thrashed her way after him.

  He was waiting for her in a small clearing that backed up to the outside of an ivy-covered stone wall that must be the same one that surrounded the Gallantine property. Though here the wall was much higher than in front, several feet over her head.

  She had no doubt that Chaz could scale the bricks, but she had qualms about herself. She could probably climb it, but it wouldn’t be pretty and it definitely wouldn’t be modest, which was sure to set off Chaz’s sleaziest comments. “Does this wall go all the way down to the water?”

  “Yep, but we’re not going that way.” Chaz motioned her to follow him and, hoping that the vine covering the ground wasn’t poison ivy, she plowed ahead.

  They came to a rusted gate mostly covered with ivy. She would have walked right past it, except that Chaz had stopped and, once she’d looked, she could see where the vines had recently been stripped away. Leo must have come this way. And maybe the murderer.

  Chaz pushed the vines aside and pressed down on a rusty lever. It didn’t move.

  “Used to be a key.”

  Oh great, they were going to have to walk all the way to the water and back. She glanced down at her shoes in a final farewell; they wouldn’t survive the trek.

  Chaz stepped back and looked up, began testing the strength of the vines.

  “Don’t even think it.” She started down the wall to the water.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To go around.”

  “Liv, Liv, Liv.” He pushed the ivy aside and pressed the latch; the gate creaked open. “You are so easy.”

  “You wish.” She followed him inside.

  They entered onto a narrow strip of lawn behind the old mansion. The back of the house was even more uneven than the side close to the bleachers. Additions that appeared as mere afterthoughts were linked and stacked haphazardly together like so many building blocks, making the turret seem like it was the only thing holding them up.

  The grass was brown and trampled down. A few yards away a thick stand of trees separated the property from its neighbors and blocked any sun from filtering through to the ground. It made the air chilly and the atmosphere spooky.

  Several yards from the house proper was a square stone outbuilding. Chaz headed for it, jogging on tiptoe, knees lifted high, like a cartoon detective. He threw himself up against the stone wall and motioned Liv to hurry.

  She hurried. He might think this was funny, but she didn’t relish being caught trespassing on a crime scene.

  They crept along the back of the building. Chaz peered around the corner; Liv peered around Chaz. To their left was the kitchen. The outbuilding must have been the old icehouse. Liv could see Hildy standing at the window. Doing the dishes?

  Liv grabbed Chaz’s arm and pointed toward the window.

  Chaz thumbed his nose at the housekeeper. She didn’t look up.

  “Nearsighted,” Chaz said in a stage whisper. Liv was sure he’d done it just to amp up the excitement. Hildy turned from the window and moved out of sight.

  “Now.” Chaz motioned for Liv to follow him, and she did. As closely as possible without stepping on him. Until he stopped at the base of the stone turret, and then she did plow into him.

  He turned and gave her a look. “Lucy.”

  “Sorry, Ricky.”

  Chaz shook his head and pulled at the heavy wooden door that was barely five feet high.

  It didn’t open. He went through the looking-for-a-key routine.

  “If this is another of your tricks…”

  “Nope. This one is always locked. But I…” He began to inspect the stonework around the wooden doorframe. “Ah.” He wiggled a piece of stone until it fell into his hand, and along with it a key.

  He set it in the lock and pulled the heavy door outward. Put the key and piece of mortar back, then felt inside.

  “No light.” He pulled the door all the way open. And stepped back.

  “What are you doing?” Liv whispered.

  “Giving the creepy-crawly things time to get out.” He looked down at her shoes and shook his head. Smiled. “Ready?”

  Liv was not ready at all. “Are you sure they’re all gone?”

  “I think so. If I hear you scream, I’ll know I was wrong.”

  “Chaz.”

  “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few spiders?”

  “I was thinking of something larger.”

  He stopped to look at her. “Like a psychopath? Do you really think I would let you go somewhere you could get hurt?”

  Liv shook her head. For all his annoying ways, she trusted him. She grabbed the back of his shirt and followed him into the darkness.

  She couldn’t see a thing, but she felt the damp and smelled the dead, cold air. Suddenly a dim light appeared in the black. Chaz was using his cell phone as a flashlight, not that it gave off much light.

  Slowly a door to the left came into view, but Chaz ignored it and continued forward, Liv holding on to him. About ten shuffling steps later, he stopped again. The light went out.

  “Watch your step.”

  She felt him grow taller. Her toe hit something hard. A step. They were going to climb to the roof.

  Her shoes weren’t made for this, but she was afraid to take them off when she couldn’t see where she was stepping. And she refused to let him go on without her.

  They felt their way upward, Liv holding on to Chaz’s shirt with one hand and feeling the rough stone wall with the other as they climbed the curving staircase. It was an airless corridor, the darkness only relieved by an occasional small rectangular window.

  And it seemed to go on forever. Surely they weren’t going to the top of the house. The roof where they’d found Rundle had only been about halfway up.

  A few minutes later, Chaz slowed. As Liv took another step, she realized he hadn’t moved upward but had shuffled over to make room for her.

  They were standing on a small platform, she guessed. It was dusty and claustrophobic. And much too small a space to be sharing with Chaz. They were standing so close, she could feel his body heat.

  On cue, he said, “This is cozy.”

  “And we are where?” Liv heard a squeak, resisted the urge to flee or climb up Chaz’s back, and then realized it was the squeak of a door opening, not a creature.

  She blinked against the sudden light.

  Chaz stuck his head out, looked around, and opened the door more fully. Motioned Liv out. She came with alacrity. They were on the roof. It was sunny, and it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust.

  The first thing that came into focus was Chaz’s face.

  “Okay, give me the blow by blow.”

  Liv looked around until she found the trapdoor where they’d entered the night of the murder, which was now covered over. She walked over to it. Stood there getting her bearings, setting up the scene from the night of the murder. Moved several paces to the center of the roof. Turned in a slow circle.

  It looked different in the daylight. Made the events of the night seem remote. But she could see it all. The position of the body lying along the wall closest to the bleachers, curled on its side until A.K. turned it to its back. She turned slightly to the right, Leo cowering in the corner, and farther along the parapet to the place where Leo said the ghost had disappeared.

  It was all there like a snapshot. She turned to explain it to Chaz, but he was leaning against the turret wall, arms crossed, head tilted, watching her.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He pu
lled away from the wall. “Just trying to decide if you were actually looking for clues or arranging the banquet tables.”

  She gave him her iciest look. “Mock all you want, but in my profession it pays to notice details.”

  “So tell me about them.”

  “We came up from the stair.” She paused to give him a saucy smile. “A.K. had a real flashlight. He found Rundle lying not far from the place where he’d given the signal.” She pointed to the place. “Or at least from where somebody gave the signal. We just assumed it was Rundle because the lantern was lying on its side at his feet.

  “A.K. went over to see what was wrong.” She closed her eyes, reconstructing the scene. “Rundle was lying on his side, dressed in one of the patriot uniforms. A.K. turned him over. There was a gash in his stomach. A lot of blood. A.K. said it looked like a bayonet wound, but there was no musket.”

  Chaz walked over and squatted down by the place she’d pointed out.

  “A.K. said he’d probably bled out in a few seconds.” She hesitated. “So he couldn’t have given the SOS signal, could he? Unless he’d done it before he was attacked. But that doesn’t make sense. Anyway, A.K. said to call Bill but to wait on calling the EMTs. He said it was too late for Rundle, and he didn’t want them messing up any evidence.”

  Chaz looked back at her. “How many times are you planning on saying ‘A.K. said’?”

  “Sorry, but he did.”

  “Huh.” He went back to studying the floor.

  “I’m sure Bill already searched the area.”

  He stood up, gave her a sour look. “Are you just going to bitch at me after you interrupted my comfortable sloth and dragged me over here?”

  She was about to point out that she’d only asked him to go talk to Leo, not to play amateur sleuth. But she didn’t. She was glad of his help. And he wasn’t exactly an amateur.

  He looked over the parapet onto the lawn. “And no one saw any sign of a skirmish from below?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  “Okay, then what happened?”

  “The fireworks started in earnest, and when there was a pause, we heard moaning and found Leo pressed into the corner over there.” She winced. “Chaz, he looked so frightened. He was clutching the musket. Even from across the floor I could see the bayonet. It was black in the dark, but I knew even then it was covered with blood.”