“You don’t think there’s real danger, do you? It was Cliff Chalmers who scared him by peering in the window.”
“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, he said he’ll drop Whiskey off in a few minutes.”
Liv and Ted had just finished their morning “munch and crunch” session when Phillip Schorr came in with Whiskey.
Before Liv could yell, “Drop the leash,” Whiskey had dragged the pastor through the outer office to Ted.
Fortunately, Schorr was laughing when Whiskey pawed at Ted and they began their yodeling routine.
“Sorry,” Liv said. “They’ve got me trained to let go of the leash when Ted opens the door.”
“Not at all. It’s an experience to witness. I want to thank you for letting us keep him for the night. No incidents to report. Leo was very much comforted. Sometimes a pet is as good as a prayer.” He smiled. “Or perhaps a pet is a form of prayer. Or the answer to a prayer. Sharise brought over supplies. She stayed awhile, and the upshot is that she’s asked Leo to work for her two days a week after school. I think that will be an excellent job for him.”
“That’s great.”
“Yes it is. He is really wonderful with animals; you should have seen him and Whiskey together. He has a special gift. And with a little training… this could be a very good thing. Thank you.”
“Whiskey does have a way of making things better—I mean, not whiskey but—”
Pastor Schorr laughed. “I know what you mean. I hope any parishioners who drove by yesterday, with the three of us in the yard playing fetch and Leo and I calling out, ‘Here Whiskey,’ at the top of our lungs, will be as understanding.”
“Do you think his mother will take him back after this is all over?”
“That I’m not sure about. But we’ll think of something. Maybe find a foster-type family who will give him a room and a place in their hearts.”
Someplace close to the Woofery, Liv thought, since Leo didn’t seem to have a car.
“Well, I’d best be going. Catch up on some parish business while I have the morning to myself.”
After he was gone, Whiskey went to sleep on his bed in the corner of Liv’s office. Ted went to the post office, and Liv began plugging the committee figures into her Fourth of July spreadsheet.
Liv spent extra time studying A.K.’s security report. This report was more detailed than the one she’d made public at the roundup meeting. This showed the positions of his staff members, the areas each was responsible for, and the various patrol routes.
There had been two men at the entrance to Gallantine House, and they’d never left their post. There had been two traffic volunteers posted at the front gate, who directed people to entrance gates farther along the lawn.
Whoever had gotten onto the roof had to have either been in the house, known the “secret” door, or been part of the army that had been bivouacked in the woods before the first arrivals.
Stop it, Liv. Not your job. Filling in these numbers is your job. Planning the next event is your job.
But speculation kept encroaching into her best-laid plans, which slowed down her efficiency, which was why she was still working when the phone rang late that afternoon.
Ted came into her office. “That was Phillip Schorr. Leo didn’t come to the community center. Phillip went home, but he isn’t there either. He wondered if he came here. I told him no. You haven’t heard from him?”
“No.” Liv started to get up.
“Don’t panic yet. Phillip is calling around.”
“Do you think he might have gone over to the Woofery? He might be excited about having the job and just got confused about the day.”
“Phillip already called there, too.”
“Maybe he went to see Henry Gallantine? He might have heard something at school about him being back.”
“Good thought. I’ll tell Phillip to check with Hildy.”
Ted came back a minute later. “He’s calling Henry.” He sat in his usual chair across the desk from Liv. Sighed.
“What?”
“I’m trying to remember the old days when life was dull around here.”
Liv felt irrationally hurt. “You’re beginning to sound like Janine. Do you miss those days?”
“Not once. And looking back, it’s amazing I didn’t murder her before you ever got here. I take it back, life was not only dull but continually exasperating. You have no idea how you’ve turned this town around.”
Liv had some idea, but it hadn’t been just her. Everybody was putting forth their best efforts for the most part. “I think someone said, ‘It takes a village.’ And this village has enthusiastically jumped on board. They just needed some organization.”
“And effective publicity and marketing. And new ideas. Not to mention expanded venues and—I won’t go on, or you might ask for a raise and throw the mayor into a tizzy.”
“I’m very happy with what I have,” Liv said. “Now, if we could tighten security just a bit.”
“Not going to happen. I’m afraid this might be as good as it gets. And if you look at the stats, crime and accidents are way down from before.”
“Except the biggest crime of all. But they are good. And I suppose it’s nearly impossible to stop a murder when it’s personal, as all of the recent ones have been. Right? They were all personal and not caused by the events?”
“Right.”
“What did you do for security before I came?”
Ted grinned. “Fred and his orange-vested traffic-control team. Two cruisers and four patrolmen borrowed from the county.”
Liv shuddered.
“So, you see, my dear: Crimes could have been happening all around us and chances are they went unnoticed. I must say, this Bayside team is good. No telling what they’ve stopped before it had a chance to happen.”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
They went back to work.
Pastor Schorr called a few minutes later to tell them Leo was indeed at Henry Gallantine’s.
“One crisis averted,” Ted said.
“Let’s hope it’s the last.”
By late that afternoon, they had entered every report into the Battle of the Bay and Fireworks file.
Liv clicked out of the program. “I say we’re done here.”
“Yes. And I’m sensing a weekend off as next on our agenda.”
“Sounds good to me. When did we last take a whole weekend?”
Ted tapped his forehead and frowned. “Too long ago to count. And after that, you’re taking two weeks off, and after that you’re giving me two weeks off. Then it starts all over again.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Liv pushed back from her desk and stretched.
Whiskey, recognizing a cue that work was about to wrap up, got up from his bed and came over for some attention.
Liv’s cell phone rang.
“That’s the last call and we’re going home,” Ted said.
Liv looked at caller ID. This time she recognized the number. “Not again. I wonder what it is now. I should never have given her my number.” Liv swiped her phone and answered.
“Ms. Montgomery. I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to come quick.”
Liv was sure Ted could hear Hildy’s screech through the phone, but she turned on speakerphone anyway.
“Hildy, slow down. What’s wrong?”
“They’re going to kill each other!”
“Who? What’s going on, Hildy? Is Leo okay?”
Her question was answered by a scream, and the phone went dead.
“Let’s go,” Ted said, while Liv was still looking at the phone. “We’ll take my car.”
“Shouldn’t we call Bill?”
“From the car.” He ran from the room. Whiskey shot past her and followed Ted out the door.
Liv could only grab
the leash and try to catch up.
Chapter Twenty-four
They raced to the employees’ parking lot at the back of the building. Ted beeped the doors and the three of them scrambled in. Ted was backing out of the lot before Liv even got her seat belt on.
“Call Bill and tell him to meet us there.”
Liv hit her speed dial; it went to voice mail. She left a message, told him about the call, and that they were going to the Gallantine House. “Meet us there.” She hung up. “Now what?”
“You’d better call Chaz, we may need backup.”
Chaz answered after the fourth ring, sounding sleepy, as usual.
“Focus,” Liv practically screamed into the phone. “Ted and I are on our way to Gallantine House. Hildy called hysterical, there’s some kind of altercation, Leo is there. Meet us there.”
He hung up on her.
She shrugged at Ted. “He hung up on me.”
Chaz’s Jeep was screeching to a stop when Ted pulled his SUV to the curb outside the Gallantine mansion.
“That was fast,” Liv said as they ran toward the door.
“That’s because I’m good,” Chaz said.
And she could see it. He was in reporter mode. And something else. Someone else. Someone who cared about the kid inside.
Hildy was waiting at the door. “Oh Lord, thank you. I don’t know what he was thinking. They’re all in there.”
She hurried toward the parlor, not even looking askance at Whiskey. Ted, Chaz, and Liv followed close behind. They all stopped in the doorway.
Whiskey rushed past the housekeeper into the room and made a beeline for Leo, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch.
Liv was hit by a heavy sense of déjà vu: Leo crouched against the parapet and Jacob Rundle lying dead on the roof.
Whiskey climbed onto his lap and licked his face, which Leo buried in Whiskey’s fur.
Henry’s nephew stood off to the side, holding a heavy brass candlestick, but Liv couldn’t tell whether he was planning to steal it or use it as a weapon. Either way, he wasn’t going anywhere. Ted, Liv, and Chaz were blocking his only means of escape.
Seated, stiff-backed in the wing chair, was George Grossman, his arms raised as if to ward off a blow.
Daniel Haynes, dressed in a sport shirt and slacks, and Henry Gallantine, in a satin smoking jacket, were standing face-to-face in front of the fireplace. Both red-faced and angry.
“Oh my God,” Ted said. “He’s gathered all the usual suspects.”
“You’re not getting away with this again,” Haynes cried, and before his astonished audience he grabbed one of the Treasure Island swords off the wall and brandished it at Henry.
Henry was out of reach of the other sword, but he jumped nimbly out of the way. “You fool. There are witnesses this time.”
“What do I care for witnesses? Justice will be served.” Haynes lunged. Henry took a step back.
“Justice? You? Talk of justice?”
Daniel lunged again. Again Henry jumped out of the way. Daniel began slashing at the air as he pressed Henry farther and farther back.
Haynes had backed Henry almost to the wall when Hildy wailed, “Somebody stop him.”
Ted and Chaz looked at each other.
“A couple of nutcases,” Chaz said.
“Agreed,” Ted said. “But Liv doesn’t want any more murders this month.”
“She’s no fun.”
Liv stared at the two men in disbelief. Were they just going to stand there and let Daniel Haynes kill Henry? Then again, what could the two of them do without risking serious injury or worse?
But just as they started forward, Daniel Haynes turned the sword in their direction. “Stay back. We’re going to settle this once and for all.”
Ted and Chaz stopped where they were.
In the brief distraction, Henry reached behind him and pulled a black umbrella from the umbrella stand.
“En garde.” He lunged at Haynes, who whirled about and just managed to deflect the umbrella with the sword blade.
And suddenly they were really going at it like the swashbucklers they were not. It was so frightening and ludicrous at the same time that no one could do anything but watch.
“I give up,” Chaz said, looking around and sitting in a chair to view the entertainment.
“Confess before it’s too late,” Hayes sputtered. He was already winded. As a lawyer, he probably didn’t get much fencing in.
“Confess?” Henry sneered. “Confess to what? To actually thinking you were an honorable man?”
“I’ll show you honorable.” Haynes feinted to the right.
But Henry was there with his umbrella to parry the attack.
“Tell me where you hid that document.”
“Never. It’s safe; that’s all you need to know.” Henry lashed out with his umbrella. The tip of Haynes’s sword stuck in the fabric. There was a brief tussle, then Haynes ripped the sword away, leaving a piece of black fabric fluttering from the frame. Henry looked down at his torn weapon. “Now you’ve made me angry.” He feinted with the umbrella, fabric whipping in the air.
Ted sat down, crossed his arms, seemingly content to wait for them to tire themselves out.
“You killed Rundle to protect your family’s reputation. I won’t let you get away with it.” Haynes lunged.
Sword struck umbrella, parried, struck again.
“I know it all,” Haynes huffed. “Rundle came to me, said he had found the chest, and he would sell it to me for an exorbitant price.” Whack, whack. “It would prove Henry Gallantine’s guilt. But I refused to buy it. It was despicable to me. I thought at last you would tell the truth. Instead you killed the man. Betrayal must run in your family’s blood.” Slash, whack.
“My family?” Henry looked genuinely nonplused and dropped the tip of his umbrella.
“Yes. I have you now.” Haynes lunged again, but Henry jumped onto the couch, ran along the cushions, and jumped down on the other side.
Liv started getting some not-very-happy ideas. Henry Gallantine was in terrific shape.
“Lies. It wasn’t my family. It was yours.”
Haynes almost dropped his sword. “My family? General Haynes was a hero.”
“Not according to the document I have. You fool. Rundle found the document during one of the few times he actually did any work around here. He would have taken it if I hadn’t caught him. He never had the chest in his possession. I took it. I hid it. I would never have betrayed your ancestor.”
“My ancestor?” Haynes repeated, bewildered.
“His ancestor?” Grossman jumped from the chair. “No. It proved Henry Gallantine to be the real traitor—” He broke off.
“Why is it so important to defile my family’s name?” Henry asked.
Grossman didn’t answer, just sank onto the chair and hid his face in his hands.
“Because his ancestor was the real traitor,” Chaz said.
Everyone looked at him, including Liv. When had he discovered that? While she was asleep? Damn the man.
“He wasn’t,” Grossman cried. “He was framed by one of them.” He pointed to the two combatants, then turned his attention to the remaining sword on the wall. Fortunately, he was too short to reach it.
“You mean you never intended to buy the property for the museum?” Henry asked. “You were here to uncover what you thought were lies about your own family?”
“Who are you?” Haynes asked, his sword still pointed at Henry Gallantine.
“I’m George Grossman, great-grandson of Hezekiah Jenkins.”
“Who the hell is that?” Henry asked, his umbrella at the ready.
“You probably haven’t heard of him. He was the man who was accused when Gallantine was exonerated. Your families prospered; mine lost everything.�
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“That’s preposterous,” Haynes said. “I’ve never heard of anybody named Hezekiah Jenkins in the war.”
“It’s public record,” Chaz said. “The man was tried and convicted. Whether because of additional evidence or as a scapegoat. He managed to escape before his execution, but he lived in poverty and exile for the rest of his life. His family never heard from him again, but he left a son. And the rest is history.”
“He wasn’t guilty,” Grossman repeated.
“Guilty or not, I think George here came to get revenge.”
“I did. But not by killing anyone. I found the hollow wainscoting the afternoon I was here taking inventory. I was sure the proof of Hezekiah’s innocence must be in there. But Ms. Montgomery never left me alone long enough to get it out. So I came back. I took the chest out and placed it on the table, but before I could open it, someone hit me over the head. And when I woke up, the chest was open and the document was gone.”
He turned on Henry. “Unless you hit me and took it.”
“I didn’t hit you. I didn’t take anything out of the chest. It was never in that chest; just some old play money and plastic junk. That chest is a reproduction of the pirate chest from Treasure Island, the film I made back in 1962. I put it in the false panel because… well… it just seemed like a perfect place for a pirate chest.”
“I would have found it.” Leo, all but forgotten in the skirmish, pushed Whiskey from his lap and stood.
Henry spread his hands. “It was a fun game we played. Not a real treasure, is it, Leo?”
Leo looked confused. “Not the real treasure, just our treasure.”
Henry looked up abruptly. “Leo, you didn’t think—you didn’t—no, you wouldn’t.”
“Or course he didn’t, but somebody did,” Chaz said.
Suddenly Leo shambled toward Henry. “Mr. Henry, you’re bleeding.”
Henry looked down at the sleeve of his smoking jacket. “Well, Leo, I believe you’re right.”
Daniel Haynes jerked around, his sword unintentionally slicing the air.
Everyone ducked.
“Oh my God, did I do that?”
Shelley Freydont - Celebration Bay 03 - Independence Slay Page 27
