by Terri Thayer
April looked to see if Mr. Hudock’s collection of Aldenville High memorabilia was still on display. She was not disappointed. Mr. Hudock had always tried to temper his role as funeral director with something more fun. He didn’t want to be known in the community just as the man who buried their relatives. He’d coached Pop Warner football and sponsored ads at the Little League field. She still had a softball jersey with the Hudock logo on the back.
She pointed to the glass-fronted cabinet where his trophies, plaques and flags resided. “Still the number one booster, eh?” she asked.
Deana looked at her husband. “Mark’s nice enough to leave him that intact.”
Mark laughed. “As if I have a choice. I can take his precious daughter, I can run his business, but Ron Hudock would kill me if I touched his pennants.”
They all laughed as it was obvious Mark didn’t really care.
“Dad comes back from Florida for football season. He hasn’t missed a home game in over fifty years.”
Mark pointed the remote at the TV. “Quiet now, the news is on.”
The Castle was the lead story. A solemn newscaster faced them, her blonde hair frosted and highlighted and cut into a helmet that didn’t move. She tried to convey how serious this story was without frowning and causing wrinkles. She looked constipated. April winced as a picture of Mirabella came on the screen.
“Retro Reproductions got more than they bargained for this morning while demolishing a ramshackle building on the property of Winchester heiress Barbara Harcourt,” the newscaster began.
“Mrs. H. is not going to like being on TV,” Deana said. “She doesn’t like publicity.”
“No one needs this kind of exposure,” Mark said.
April’s heart sank a little deeper. Now she was sorry she’d watched.
“A skull was found in the rubble. The state police say that the skull is human but will not speculate as to how it came to be at the Castle job site. Mr. Buchert and his partner, Vincent Campbell, owners of the company, have been renovating high-end homes in the Aldenville area for ten years now.”
The news anchor managed to make “partner” sound sordid. April cringed. Deana patted her hand.
“NewsTrack Eleven will be following this story and keep you informed of any new developments. A house fire in Sugarloaf has left a family of five out in the cold . . .”
Mark flipped to another channel, which was telling Ed’s story also.
April had had enough. She stood up. “I’m going to go home.”
Deana led her to the back door. At April’s car, she hugged her and April stayed in her friend’s arms, drawing comfort and solace from the woman who had grown used to this as part of her profession. It didn’t feel professional, though; it felt very personal.
“My homecoming is not what I thought it would be,” April said quietly.
Deana patted her back solicitously. “I know, I know.”
“My father is up to his eyeballs in a messy job, the messiest. And my mother. My mother has a boyfriend. A boyfriend.”
Deana pulled back and looked at her. The parking lot was lit with old-fashioned street lamps. “I know it sounds cliché, April, but you never know how much time you have with someone. Your mother could be gone tomorrow.”
“Please, Deana, don’t lay the life-is-short thing on me. I know you see it all the time in your job, but come on. What if life’s too short to hang out with people who want too much from you?”
CHAPTER 9
When she pulled in the barn’s driveway a few minutes later, April was surprised to see light leaking from the clerestory windows over the sliding barn doors. The barn didn’t have many windows facing the drive, as Vince and Ed had been more interested in preserving the original façade. During the drive home, April had been regretting that she hadn’t left a light on. Of course, she hadn’t expected to be gone until after dark when she’d left the house early this morning.
Skirting the cumbersome sliding doors, April entered through the small kitchen door and flipped on a light. The vast emptiness of the space, highlighted by her lack of furniture, glared back at her. Empty except for her father.
In the far corner of the room that served as Retro Reproductions’ office, Ed was seated at his desk, a small circle of light coming from the desk lamp, illuminating the sheaf of papers in front of him. White banker boxes were stacked at his feet. The top one looked empty and the contents strewn on the desk.
April tossed her purse on the kitchen counter and crossed the main room. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said. Her voice echoed and she lowered it.
At least if he was here, he hadn’t seen the latest news report. There was no television.
“Paperwork,” he said, rubbing his hands together as though he were trying to start a fire. The barn was cool but not cold. As she got closer, April could feel the exhaustion emanating off him. The usual bags under his eyes looked darker, bruised and painful. She felt her heart soften.
She kissed the top of his head and rubbed his shoulders. He sighed. After a moment, he shrugged her off. Her father could never stand too much relaxation.
“What’s all this?” April gestured toward the top of the desk. Three standing files were lined up. They were labeled—the Castle, Mirabella, Heights.
Ed tapped his pen on his teeth and pointed. “We’re running three jobs right now. This is how I keep the job costs straight. All the workers’ hours, the invoices for supplies, the bills of lading go in the appropriate file. Once a week or so, I go through and allocate the costs to the right job. I usually do it on Tuesday, but since today was such a mess, I’m trying to catch up.”
“It must be tough, keeping track of three jobs.” Especially by hand. April used project management software.
“Three jobs, ten employees, two subcontractors. A total of four hundred thousand in contracts,” Ed said wearily. “So far this year.”
April widened her eyes. She hadn’t realized her father’s business had grown so big. “Can I help?”
Anyone else would be proud of their accomplishments, but Ed looked stressed. “I can’t finish. Some bills are missing. Lyle must have paperwork in his truck that he hasn’t turned in yet. I always have to hound him to turn in the invoices when he gets a shipment or buys something.” He sighed heavily. “I was just getting ready to go home.”
“The state police done at the Castle?” April asked.
He shook his head. “Not by a long shot. They might be there for days, depending on what they find. They’re sifting through the rubble with sandbox toys.”
She laughed at the image. Ed frowned. “Sorry,” she said. “I was picturing a big yellow shovel.”
“This is serious, Ape. They’re looking for more bones. That body was inside that house,” Ed said, gnawing on a knuckle. “Inside that house that I’d boarded up years ago.
April felt scared. This sounded like more than his usual alarmist folderol. “That’s just Yost’s bullshit, isn’t it?” she asked.
Ed shook his head sadly. “I heard the medical examiner tell the staties that the bones hadn’t been exposed to the elements. There are no animal bites, and something about the color makes him think that skull has been inside for at least fifteen years, maybe longer.”
April’s scalp tightened. She didn’t like the time line. Deana had said the same thing.
“So they’re searching for the rest of the bones?” she asked.
Ed rubbed his face, hard. He got to the real problem on his mind. “There is no way I’m going to get paid for the Castle demolition until they’re finished and we can get in and truck away all that debris.”
“Mitch said you’d been hoping to salvage some of the stone and wood,” she said.
“The blast took care of that. Nothing is going the way I’d planned. But then, things never do, do they?” he said sadly.
“What about the Mirabella job?” April asked. Any stoppage would mean a delay in her paycheck that she could not afford. “The rem
odeling will go on, won’t it? I mean, the Castle is really an outbuilding, and—” April had her arguments lined up.
He waved her off and she felt her jaw unclench. “Over there, it’s business as usual. The mansion is far enough away that the cops are not considering it part of their scene.”
“Now what?”
Ed put the lid on the box. “Now, I spend the next couple of days with the state police. Vince won’t be able to handle the other jobs we have by himself, and business falls off horribly. Mrs. H. doesn’t pay the final installment on the work we’ve already done . . .”
April put her hand over his mouth. “Dad, please. Stop.”
He looked at her warily. “This could happen. I’m not being overly dramatic.”
Ed’s cell rang. The vibrate function was on, too, making the phone skip across the desktop. April could see it was Vince, so she walked away to give them some privacy.
Ed did have a point. If this body wasn’t identified quickly, Mrs. H. might get antsy and shut down the Mirabella job. Bonnie had been right: the Castle was bad luck for the Bucherts. April had to make sure this wasn’t a repeat of the last debacle. She would do whatever she could to keep Retro Reproductions on the job, doing their work and earning their paychecks.
Listening to her father’s murmurings to Vince, she was comforted by his change in tone. Vince could always calm her father down.
She didn’t want to go back to California just yet. It had taken her years to forgive her father after he’d moved out of the house and into the loft over the garage. Not until she was graduated from college did they begin the process of repairing their relationship.
San Francisco had been a big factor in that. Out of the constricting bounds of the small town, each of them flourished. He’d visited her, sleeping on the futon in her living room. Exploring the city with him, April had learned who her father was. She’d found out about his passion for Janis Joplin while they shared drinks at the bars in the Mission. They’d cheered for his Yankees at an intraleague game at the new ballpark. At City Lights Bookstore, he’d introduced her to the poems of Ferlinghetti. With great seats at Beach Blanket Babylon, she’d recognized her own offbeat sense of humor in his guffaws. She gradually came to love him for who he was.
About five years ago, he’d brought Vince to San Francisco. April had been leery, not ready to face this part of her father’s life, but Ed with Vince was a revelation. He had a buoyancy that she’d never seen before. She recognized what had been missing in his relationship with Bonnie. Ed liked Bonnie, she’d been his best friend, but he loved Vince with a depth and spirituality that touched April’s heart.
In fact, seeing Vince and Ed together had showed her what was wrong with her and Ken. They didn’t have that sense of being soul mates. She’d never been happy in her marriage after that. She’d seen what could be and was not willing to put up with anything less.
Ed hung up. “Vince says I should come home and go to bed.”
April tugged on the back of his chair until he pushed away from the desk. “He’s right,” she said.
Ed stood and stretched. He yawned. “I’ll get out of your way so you can get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a bear. Where have you been anyhow? It’s late.”
She ignored his attempt to parent and told him about having dinner with Bonnie and visiting Deana and the stampers. While she talked, he put a few folders in his briefcase and zipped it closed.
He tried a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which remained glazed. He hadn’t let go of his work problems. “Don’t forget to check in on the men again tomorrow. Lyle’s got to go with Vince on the Heights job. I’ll need you to be my eyes and ears again.”
“But I’ll be nowhere near them,” April said. The warm and fuzzy feeling she’d been generating disappeared in an instant.
The mansion was huge. How could she keep an eye on her father’s employees when she couldn’t see them? There was five thousand square feet of house between the dining room and the north wing. She wondered if they’d even be in the same zip code.
His take of her responsibility on this job and hers were miles apart. She thought she was there to stamp on the walls. First the mural, now this. She felt resentment flare.
She needed to sit her father down and explain to him how she worked. This morning her reaction had been cut short by the blast. She needed to be sure Ed understood she was not a painter. Or a babysitter.
She looked at him. “Don’t forget, thanks to you, I’m working in the dining room,” April said. “Trying to clean a mural. I have no idea how I’m going to do that.”
Ed’s looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, wide and beseeching for forgiveness. “Please, April, not now. Do what you can with that wall.”
“Dad, you need to treat me as a professional. I’m not your gofer.”
“Come on, things are different today. I messed up, I admit. But I need your help.”
She straightened her shoulders and took in a deep breath. She was tired, the day’s events catching up with her and weighing her down. But she knew better than to add on to her dad’s worry pile.
He saw her giving in and reached in his briefcase. He pulled out a black radio. “I’ll give you my walkie-talkie. Just use that to stay in touch with the guys and drop in on them once in a while.”
She was about to suggest that he could use the walkie-talkie himself to keep in touch with the boys from the Castle site, but her father’s deep sigh cut her to the quick. Ed’s jowls shook on the exhale. She hated to see him so stressed.
His voice was even quieter. “We’ve got to keep Mrs. H. satisfied, whatever it takes. She’s not going to be happy that I’m not on-site. I can’t afford to lose this job. She has yet to pay the final payment on the first phase of the job.”
April needed this job as much as her father did. More. She had the money she’d gotten from the stampers to last her until the next paycheck, but she needed a steady income. She said, “Don’t give it another thought. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly tomorrow.”
He kissed her on the cheek, and she hugged him tight. He broke away and headed for the door. Suddenly exhausted, April felt a physical need to lie down. The desire to be off her feet was overpowering. Before Ed even reached the doorway, she put a foot on the ladder that led to the sleeping loft. The mattress that had seemed kind of lumpy last night was calling to her. Her research would have to wait until morning.
Ed stopped and saw her about to climb up. His hand on the doorknob, he was suddenly animated. “Did I tell you about that ladder? State-of-the-art. Light enough to be handled by one person. Weighs only eight pounds.”
Ed loved his gadgets. The lightweight ladder, the remote-control blinds on the skylight, the faucets that came on without touching.
The sleeping loft was bigger than many San Francisco bungalows. In fact, loft was a misnomer, as the ceiling soared twelve feet above the built-in bed. The only thing loftlike was the ladder entrance. If a permanent staircase had been installed, it would have been considered the second floor. April wondered if the real reason Ed and Vince had left the barn was because they were tired of climbing. Their egos wouldn’t let them admit they were getting too old.
Ed continued. “In case of a home invasion, you can pull that ladder up and hunker down. There’s a phone jack up there, too.”
“Dad. Really? Home invasion? Who’s going to break in here? A black bear, maybe.”
She stepped off the ladder and held up a hand to stop him from coming any closer. He might get a charge out of his high-tech toys, but she was too tired for a lecture.
Ed said, “A bear is a possibility, you know. Make sure you double wrap your garbage. Between the bears and the skunks, it’s better to be prepared.”
She’d heard those words all through her childhood. Of course, there’d been no way to prepare for the one thing that changed her life forever.
“Go home,” April said.
Ed hesitated in the door, looking back at her.
“Sleep tight, bug.”
“Don’t worry, Dad.”
She knew telling him not to worry was like telling the tide not to come in, but she couldn’t resist. She loved this man, but her private fear was that she was just like him, always fretting about the smallest thing. She felt her anxiety level rise whenever she was around him, but tonight she forced herself to look on the bright side.
“Everything will work out just fine.” April wasn’t known for her optimism, but next to Ed, she looked like Pollyanna. It was going to take her some time to get used to having her parents around on a daily basis. She fell right into roles she’d have sworn were long gone.
“Lock the door,” Ed said.
“Yes, Dad.” How could she ever have survived living in San Francisco for the past fourteen years without his constant reminders? Of course, he had called her once a month to remind her to change the batteries in the smoke alarm.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed into her softest T-shirt and shorts and scampered up the ladder.
In the loft, her sketch pad was next to her pillow. She turned on the light over the bed and fluffed up the pillows so she could sit up. She moved the pencil across the page. Images started to appear. She felt herself relax. The stress of the day faded as she drew.
She turned the pages quickly, filling them with images. She stopped when she realized she’d drawn pages of skulls.
The sketch pad looked like a Day of the Dead poster. Obviously, her psyche had been disturbed to see the skull, stirred in ways that her conscious mind hadn’t absorbed. She’d drawn grotesque eye sockets, gaping and wide, no life anywhere. Cavernous mouths. The proportions were all wrong, but she never doubted what her hand drew. Her mind worked with her fingers, in ways she often didn’t understand, recording images she hadn’t realized she’d seen.
She went back down for the scissors. Last Halloween she’d seen a string of skulls like paper dolls, cut from one piece of paper, and she wanted to see if she could duplicate it. She got her sharpest pair and a heavy-duty paper, and climbed back into the loft. April looked at the image and let her fingers do the cutting. The first one looked misshapen, but the more she worked at it, the more familiar the shape looked. She didn’t stop until she had twenty skulls connected. A deadly garland.
