“I just did what they wished they could do but couldn’t.”
“They fined him and sent him back here to cool his heels.” Bill switched his attention to Chaz. “And stay out of trouble.”
Liv slapped her forehead. “That’s why you were holed up in your house. And I badgered you into helping me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Chaz opened one eye. “That’s what you think? You should know me better.”
She did know him better. He wouldn’t turn a blind eye while a friend was in trouble, for all his couldn’t-care-less attitude. And she liked him better for it.
“Sometimes a man has to stand up for what he believes,” Ida said.
“Thank you, Miss Ida.” He moved the ice pack, and water poured down his shirt.
Exasperated, Liv took it away and carried it to the kitchen.
When she returned with a new bag of ice, everyone was talking at once. It sounded like a party.
“I think,” Liv said, coming back into the room and shoving the ice pack at Chaz, “what we need is a strategy session.”
“Liv,” Bill began.
“You let her talk, Bill Gunnison,” Miss Edna said. “She can go places and ask questions that you can’t.”
“Miss Edna, there’s a killer out there.”
“We’re well aware of that.”
“And my job is not only to catch that killer but to keep my community safe while I’m doing it.”
“We know, Bill.” Miss Ida reached over and patted his knee. “And you’re doing a good job. So what do you know that you haven’t told us?” She smiled sweetly at him. Turned to Liv. “Get out your lesson plan, dear.”
Liv blushed. She’d kept the sisters’ idea of a lesson plan for murder to herself.
“What’s this lesson plan?” Bill asked suspiciously.
“Well,” Liv said, once she realized no one else was going to explain, “it’s like a spreadsheet. You know, just keeping abreast of what’s happened and how and when, so we can better prepare for the next event, point to where we need to tighten security, fill in holes. Things like that. And—”
Ted made a minute shake of his head.
TMI—a telltale admission of prevarication.
“It’s her lesson plan for solving a murder,” Edna said. “You show him, Liv. He might learn a thing or two.”
Reluctantly, Liv got her laptop and handed it over to Bill.
“It was our idea,” Miss Ida said with a satisfied sigh.
Bill glanced at the screen. Pulled it closer. Liv watched his expression change as his eyes moved from column to column and back again.
He handed it back to Liv. “You have one of these for every incident we’ve had?”
Liv shrugged. “They affected the Events Office.”
Miss Ida and Edna smiled proudly.
“Education at work,” Miss Edna said.
Bill looked skeptical. “This is all speculation, you know.”
“Of course she knows that, but what do you know?” Edna took the laptop from him and handed it back to Liv. “Go ahead, dear.”
Liv settled the laptop on her lap and poised her fingers over the keyboard.
“Nothing more than you already know,” Bill began. “Just what Leo, Ted, and Liv told us. Leo’s prints are on the musket. No secret there. No other clues. Not a scrap of fabric or a fingerprint that doesn’t belong. Whoever killed Rundle must have planned it in advance.”
“Wore gloves,” Miss Edna said.
“Dressed like the ghost so he wouldn’t be recognized,” Miss Ida added.
“Was familiar with the layout of Gallantine House,” Liv said.
“Which,” Ted said. “Would be just about any man and quite a few of the women who were kids here. After old man Gallantine died, the house sat empty for years. The roof was a popular hangout. Every kid with any imagination found the gate and the entrance to the tower. Then, when Henry came back, he let the tradition continue. There wasn’t anything to vandalize. Some graffiti that the rain eventually washed off. Bill and I hung out up there.”
Chaz raised a finger.
“Chaz did, too,” Liv interpreted. “Among other things.”
Miss Edna and Miss Ida pursed their lips.
Chaz hung his head, though Liv suspected it was so they wouldn’t see his reminiscent smile.
“But it could also be someone not from town, but who had visited,” Liv said.
“The nephew,” Ted said, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation.
“Who I saw helping himself to a figurine, and who was seen carrying a suitcase out of the boathouse.”
Chaz made an indeterminate noise.
Liz glanced over, but it was impossible to tell what he was trying to say. His face was contorted, but it was so swollen, not to mention also turning black and blue, that it was even harder to read.
“We don’t even know that something has happened to Henry,” Bill said. “Or that Frank’s even a suspect, though…” He glanced at Liv. “You do make an interesting supposition.”
Chaz groaned.
“Put that ice pack back on your face,” Miss Ida said. “And let this be a lesson to you about fighting in bars.”
“And George Grossman conveniently shows up saying that he’s authorized to buy the Gallantine mansion,” Ted added.
“I don’t believe Henry would sell his house. Piddle,” Miss Ida said.
“Who is zhee?” Chaz slurred.
“The guy from the historical housing conservancy,” Liv said once she had interpreted his question. “He said Henry had agreed to sell the house to him. He must have showed him around the house.”
“Henry loves that house. Why would he do that?” Edna asked.
No one knew.
“Actually, how do we know Grossman’s telling the truth?” Liv asked. “We just have his word for it.”
“The woman has a devious mind,” Chaz mumbled.
“And,” Bill added, “Daniel Haynes—who is Henry’s lawyer and who, according to Grossman, had brokered the deal—denies knowing anything about it. Though you’ll be glad to know, Liv, he has put a stay on Grossman’s letter of authorization until Henry’s whereabouts are known.”
“That’s great,” Liv said. “I hope it applies to the nephew, too. Not only is he robbing the house, we just learned today that Jacob Rundle had been selling what we think are stolen goods.”
“Where the heck did you learn this?” Bill asked.
“Got a tip,” Liv said.
“At lunch,” Ted volunteered.
“Huh,” said Bill. “We caught the nephew red-handed, thanks to Liv, though don’t make a habit of spying on suspects.”
“I—”
“Don’t bother to deny it. Funny that he should show up two days after his uncle disappears and Rundle is killed,” Ted said.
“Seems funny to me, too,” Bill agreed. “Said he came for the fireworks and to pick up some things his uncle had given him—the goods.”
“What about him meeting with Grossman?” Liv asked as she typed. “Did he say anything you can tell us?”
“Said that he’d caught him trespassing, there was something that wasn’t right about Grossman, and we should look into it.”
“The nerve of the guy,” Ted said. “Catches a trespasser while he’s stealing from the house himself. Did you look into it?”
“I’ve got somebody on it.”
“Seems like a lot of sudden interest in Gallantine House,” Miss Edna said.
“Especially since that sister and her son never gave Henry the time of day until now they think he might be dead,” Ida said. “Let him visit a few weeks each summer and ignored him the rest of the year. And after all he did for them.”
“What did he do for them?” Liv asked.
; “Just sent money to her and to his father the whole time he was working in the movies. Even after his mother went a little around the bend.”
“I didn’t know that,” Bill said.
“We used to see Hildy Ingersoll at the interfaith get-togethers and she was on the Toys for Tykes Committee, the Shut-In Visitation Committee, and a few others. She used to visit the old Gallantine housekeeper before she died. She told Hildy that the checks came to old Mr. Gallantine regular as clockwork.” Edna sighed.
“That was before Hildy lost her husband.” Ida said. “After that she just lost her zest for life. Never got it back.” She shook her head and for a second seemed far away.
Thinking about her own loss? Liv wondered.
“She just turned bitter. Didn’t come to the meetings anymore, didn’t see her friends. Just dropped out of everything but working for Henry Gallantine.” Ida tsked. “We should give her a call, Edna. Be better friends.”
Edna nodded solemnly.
Liv looked over to Chaz to see if he was at all interested in what they were saying, but his eyes were closed again. “But why kill the gardener? Do you think they were really after Henry himself?”
“Good question,” said Miss Edna.
Ida patted her chest. “How do we know that the culprit didn’t kill Henry, too?”
“True,” Edna said. “No one has heard from him, have they?”
Bill reluctantly shook his head. “But we’re looking.”
Liv wondered how many times he’d had to say that since Friday night.
“Is he a suspect?” Edna asked.
“Just a person of interest at this point.”
“No leads?” Liv asked.
“Not yet.” He pushed to his feet and almost straightened up. “And now I have things to do.”
“Bill Gunnison,” Miss Ida scolded. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Crime waits for no man,” Bill said with resignation. “Come, ladies. Chaz and I will walk you home.”
“I’ll walk them home,” Ted said. “I haven’t had the pleasure of a late-night stroll with two such lovely ladies in the longest time.”
“And we haven’t had two young men fighting over us in a dog’s age,” Edna said wryly.
“But it is nice,” Ida said.
Ted offered his arm to both ladies, and they said good night. “You go on, Bill. I’ll come back for Chaz when I’m done. I’ll take him home. You couldn’t get him off the couch much less up his stairs with your back.”
Liv wasn’t sure Ted could, either. But she’d go with them and help if she had to, because she had no intention of letting Chaz bed down on her couch.
Bill looked toward Chaz. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’ll see that he gets home. But, Bill, what are you going to do about Leo’s safety?”
“I have a squad car posted outside for tonight, but I think I should put Leo in protective custody. Reverend Schorr can’t keep him. With the mood of some of the people in town, it wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”
“What does protective custody mean exactly?” Liv asked. “Jail?”
“I hope not. Leo is eighteen; I’ll try to find a safe house through social services. Just until we close this case.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I have to.” He glanced toward Chaz again. “Keep him out of trouble if you can.”
“We’ll try.” Liv walked Bill to the door, then out into the summer air. “Can you tell me what Chaz did to get himself arrested?”
“Threatened a suspect in a murder trial in LA.”
“The banker?”
Bill nodded. “Chaz is convinced the man arranged to have his own wife kidnapped, paid the ransom, then killed her. There wasn’t conclusive evidence, even though Chaz, as well as the police, followed the case for several years. The prosecutor didn’t prove it.”
“So he took things into his own hands,” she said. “What would he have done if they hadn’t stopped him?”
Bill shrugged. “Hopefully his good sense would have prevailed. It’s not something I want to think about. He’s very lucky. Like he said, he’d just done what most of the law enforcement involved in the case wished they could do. Some cases just work out that way.”
Liv shivered in the cool night air. “Do you think this case might be one of them?”
“I sure as heck hope not.”
“Bill?”
Bill stopped at the door. “Yes?”
“Janine isn’t right, is she? That murders never happened here before the festivals got so big.”
“Of course not. We’ve always had murders and manslaughters, they just didn’t get much attention. We didn’t have so many tourists or the publicity we get now. So don’t even think it’s the Events Office’s fault. We had them. Same as any town.”
“So you think our security program is good enough?”
“Yep. You just keep doing what you’re doing. Now, get some sleep.”
Feeling slightly uneasy, she closed the door behind him. Was he just reassuring her? Or was he giving her free rein to investigate?
She went back to the living room to clear away the dishes and wait for Ted to come retrieve the sleeping newspaper editor.
“You need to make sure they explain to Leo what’s happening.”
Liv screeched and almost dropped the coffeepot.
“I thought you were passed out.”
“I wish.” Chaz straightened up. “You can’t just shuffle Leo around like he’s a piece of furniture. He’ll get confused.” Amazing how he suddenly could make himself understood.
“Maybe you should have told Bill that while he was here.”
“He wouldn’t listen to me right now. He’ll listen to you.”
“I understand your point, but you can’t expect Pastor Schorr to fend off that bunch of hooligans. I think the church probably frowns on their preachers getting in fistfights.”
“Not the Weavers. The killer.”
“But Leo didn’t recognize him. He thought he was the ghost.”
“But the killer doesn’t know that.”
“He might come after Leo, just in case?”
“I would.” He winced. His words were getting sluggish again. The cut in his lip had reopened. She should probably get more ice, but she wanted to question him while she could still understand what he was saying.
“But where will he be safe if they don’t put him in custody?”
“Somewhere.”
“I realize you’re not at your best right now. But can you be more specific?”
Chaz closed his eyes. “Not at the moment.”
When Ted returned from the Zimmermans’ and he and Liv had poured Chaz into the front seat of Ted’s SUV, Liv went back inside and straight to bed. Pulled the covers up, and relaxed for the first time in days.
She closed her eyes, but her brain wouldn’t shut off. She’d forgotten to tell Bill about Pandora’s box. It might have some bearing on the murder. Leo said they’d suddenly stopped looking for the treasure. Pandora’s box, Henry had told him.
Something that would cause trouble if it were opened. Gold? Greed was a popular motive. Or some kind of document, the other possibility. But if it were a document and proved Old Gallantine’s innocence, why would he have called it Pandora’s box?
But if it had proven his guilt? It wouldn’t change anything. Centuries had passed. Did anybody really care?
Stupid question. In Celebration Bay? They could argue over anything. But Liv couldn’t see them turning against Henry Gallantine because his ancestor had sold out a troop of patriots. They’d either ignore it and carry on as before, or merely change the presentation to include his perfidy, and have a great time doing it.
Ted had told her that at one time they’d reenacted his hanging, but had gotte
n so many complaints from parents of frightened children that they had stopped after the first portrayal.
Maybe Henry would feel a little embarrassed, but would people really hold it against him in everyday life?
Of course, some might. Every town had a few.
And she noted with another yawn, she’d just inferred herself into a mental corner.
Why was the gardener dead?
Unless…
Just as she fell asleep her cell phone rang.
Chapter Twenty-one
At first she considered letting it ring. It was after one o’clock. Then good sense reared its ugly head. Late-night, or in this case early-morning, calls were either wrong numbers or emergencies.
Please let it be a wrong number. She reached for her phone. It was a local number, but one that she didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Montgomery?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“You said to call no matter what the time.”
“Hildy?”
“Yes, you need to get over here right away.”
Liv sat up. “What’s happened?”
“I can’t tell you. Please come.”
“Hildy, are you in danger? You should call nine-one-one.”
“No, not now. If you won’t come… I shouldn’t have bothered you. But don’t you dare call the police.”
“Wait. I’ll come. Five minutes.”
It was closer to seven minutes by the time Liv dressed, got the car out of the garage, and drove across town. She deliberated about calling Bill. But she didn’t think Hildy had lured her out in the middle of the night for some nefarious purpose and would be waiting with a kitchen knife.
The woman sounded frightened and distraught. Not in danger now. Hopefully that meant the danger was over. And hopefully not because Hildy had used the kitchen knife on whatever or whoever the danger was.
She pulled up to the front of Gallantine House in darkness. No porch light. No lights from any of the windows she could see from the street. And Liv was sorry that Whiskey was still at the rectory and she would be doing this solo.
She pressed Redial.
Hildy answered immediately. “What?”
Shelley Freydont - Celebration Bay 03 - Independence Slay Page 23
