She sent Gabe a wary look. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to believe he was the nice young man he appeared to be. At the same time, she didn’t dare let down her guard. She’d been fooled before by a killer who presented a pleasant facade to the world.
“Did you ask the demonstrators if any of them saw someone leaving the building by the back door?” Gabe asked.
“I didn’t think to, but I don’t suppose they did. I’m sure they would have mentioned it to the police if they’d seen someone go out that way, especially since he’d have been wearing bloodstained clothing and carrying a sword.”
Gabe looked thoughtful. “What if he wasn’t carrying it? What if the killer hid the weapon somewhere in the building before he left? There are plenty of places to stash things in that old theater.”
“I’m sure the police have already done a thorough search.”
“Why would they, once they found the sword?”
Liss pondered his question. She began to wonder if the state police had searched the theater wing at all. What if they’d assumed no one could get into that section of the building, since the door to the art gallery had been locked?
Had the sword been hidden and retrieved later? Gabe’s suggestion made a certain amount of sense. The killer could have concealed it somewhere after he committed the crime and retrieved it when he was ready to plant it in the trunk of her father’s car.
“I should talk to the detective in charge,” Liss murmured, but she hesitated to reach for her cell phone. Would Franklin listen to anything she had to say? He wouldn’t be happy to hear she’d been investigating on her own. That much she could guarantee.
“You could take a look around the theater for yourself first,” Gabe said. “I can help. I know the place inside and out. And I’ve got a key to the building.” He produced a metal key ring with at least a dozen keys attached to it and fingered the one that had a bit of red tape stuck to it.
“The weapon is long gone,” Liss reminded him. “Assuming it was ever there.”
“There might be some traces left.” Gabe’s enthusiasm put Liss in mind of an eager puppy.
Bloodstains, she thought. Blood was hard to get rid of. Gabe was right. There might still be something to find. She was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. Common sense held her back. Exploring the backstage area of a deserted theater in company with a muscular young man who might have an ulterior motive for luring her there was not a smart idea.
“This is a matter for the police,” she told him in the firmest voice she could manage. Then she started the engine and put the car in drive.
His face fell. “Okay. If you’re sure. But if you change your mind, just ask.” Jingling the keys in one hand, he gave her a little wave with the other before heading toward his own vehicle. An easygoing smile had already replaced the look of disappointment on his face.
Gabe’s truck stayed in Liss’s rearview mirror as she drove back to Moosetookalook. As the miles passed, the sight made her increasingly uneasy. At one point, she considered pulling over to the side of the winding rural road and using her cell phone to call Detective Franklin. She talked herself out of it only because, if she stopped, she’d be even more vulnerable to attack.
She told herself she was overreacting. Gabe meant her no harm. But there was very little traffic anywhere along their route on this weekday afternoon and in a little while she’d be coming up on the spot where she’d once had a near-fatal not-so-accidental accident.
Liss gradually increased her speed and didn’t let up on the gas until she reached the 35 mph sign on the outskirts of Moosetookalook. Gabe was still right behind her.
“Well, of course he is,” Liss scolded herself. “How else could he pick Willa up when she gets off work at the Emporium?”
Chapter Fifteen
On the nerve-racking drive back to Moosetookalook, in between bouts of paranoia during which she imagined that Gabe was about to run her off the road to prevent her from discovering proof that he was Palsgrave’s killer, Liss had tried to think logically about the suggestion he’d made. She had no idea if Detective Franklin had searched all of Lincoln Hall or not. If he hadn’t, someone should point out to him that the sword could have been stashed, temporarily, somewhere in the little-used theater.
The problem, as she saw it, was that Franklin was convinced that the murder weapon had gone straight from the classroom to the trunk of Mac MacCrimmon’s car. He was not going to be interested in hearing an alternate theory, especially if it came from Mac’s daughter. Better, Liss decided, to call Mr. Carrier, inform him of Gabe’s suggestion, and add to it that she thought the art gallery had been used as the killer’s escape route. Surely the lawyer could find a way to pass both tips on to the police, hopefully in a way that would compel them to follow up on those leads. This plan had the added advantage of forestalling accusations that she was interfering in the investigation.
Liss phoned Edmund Carrier’s office as soon as Gabe and Willa drove away and she had Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium to herself. She flipped the CLOSED sign over to prevent interruptions. And she locked the door.
“I’ll relay your thoughts to Detective Franklin,” Carrier agreed when he’d heard her out, but he sounded distracted.
Liss gripped the phone more tightly, feeling her anxiety return. “Will Franklin listen? Or is he too fixated on my father as the killer to look at anyone else?”
Carrier made soothing noises. “Have a little faith, Liss. If the police were going to arrest Mac, don’t you think they’d have done so by now?”
After she hung up, she brooded. Would Mr. Carrier follow through? She was no longer certain of it. And even if he did pass the information on, there was still the possibility that the state police would ignore it.
Liss went to bed early that night, in part because she wanted to avoid talking to her parents. She didn’t have to hide her agitation from Dan. She hadn’t seen him. He was spending the evening and half the night filling in for a sick receptionist at the check-in desk at the hotel.
She slept poorly at first, but eventually dropped into a deeper slumber. She dreamed of an army of freckled redheads brandishing swords. They all had Gabe Treat’s face and they were all wearing kilts.
Wednesday morning dawned clear and bright. Liss stretched and smiled . . . until she remembered that her wedding was only three days away and she wasn’t any closer to proving her father’s innocence than she had been when she started investigating.
How could she focus on getting married, and then relax and enjoy a three-week honeymoon, with her father’s imminent arrest hanging over her head? As she dressed for the day, she once again considered postponing the trip to Scotland. Once again, she could almost hear what Dan’s reaction would be to such a suggestion. “Come hell or high water,” he’d said about taking their vows on Saturday. He’d undoubtedly give the same response if she broached the idea of rescheduling their honeymoon.
Or would he? He couldn’t have been all that jazzed about going to Scotland in the first place, given that he couldn’t stand the sound of bagpipes. He’d picked their destination to please her.
Liss sat on the side of the bed, dashing moisture from her cheeks, embarrassed to find herself in tears. This was so not like her. She didn’t get weepy, especially over things that were within her power to fix. She wouldn’t change their plans. Not yet, anyway. Not while there was hope of resolving the situation with her father. Squaring her shoulders, she marched downstairs and into the kitchen. She’d simply work harder and faster, especially faster, to find the real killer before the wedding.
Her mind busy with plans, she fed the cats and fixed her own breakfast by rote. The smell of coffee helped her think more clearly even before she tasted the first glorious sip. Step one, she decided, was to check out the old theater in Lincoln Hall for hiding places. She’d do that on her own . . . unless she arrived and found the police were there ahead of her.
When the phone rang, Liss ign
ored it. Let the answering machine deal with any new crisis. But she’d reckoned without her mother. Vi, already up for the day, picked up the extension in the living room.
A moment later, Liss heard a wail of dismay. She’d barely scrambled to her feet before her mother burst into the kitchen.
“There you are!” she cried upon spotting her daughter. “Oh, Liss—this is a disaster!”
Liss braced herself, fearing the worst. “What is it? Are the police on their way?”
“The police? What have the police got to do with it?”
“I thought—”
“It’s the flowers for your bouquet. The orchids I special-ordered aren’t going to arrive in Moosetookalook by Saturday.”
The relief that washed over Liss was so intense that she had to sit down again. For a moment she’d thought that her father’s arrest was imminent. A change in floral arrangements? That she could handle.
“Substitute something else,” she suggested. “In the great scheme of things, what does it matter if I carry pansies or petunias?”
“Pansies or—? Amaryllis Rosalie MacCrimmon, I swear, sometimes I despair of you.” Violet braced her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes heavenward.
Liss couldn’t help but smile at the picture her mother made. “It’s your own fault, you know. You should never have named me after a flower. I’m sure that’s what’s given me a lifelong disinterest in the subject. And I know for certain that I’m cursed with a black thumb. Every time someone gives me a houseplant, it up and dies on me.”
“That’s because your wretched cats always eat the poor things.”
“Oh, unfair! Plants died on me long before I inherited Lumpkin.”
She’d never been any good at identifying flowers, either. If it hadn’t been for the little markers stuck in next to each plant in the flower beds in the town square, she’d never have known what was in bloom.
“We need to find another florist,” Vi said. “Fast. There must be someone who carries orchids in the right colors.”
“Must they be orchids?” Liss frowned, struck by a thought. “Did they even have orchids in medieval Europe?”
“Oh, I’m certain they did,” Vi said, but she avoided meeting Liss’s eyes.
“They didn’t!” Liss exclaimed, amused and exasperated at the same time. “How about roses instead? I know they had roses in the Renaissance.”
“But I like orchids.” Violet pouted.
“You like roses, too. And violets. Whatever flower you decide to substitute is fine with me. I’m sure the result will be lovely.”
“Oh, Liss—where did I go wrong?”
It was either laugh or cry. Liss went with laughter. “Nowhere, Mom. You’re the best.”
“It’s just that I’ve always envisioned you carrying a bouquet of orchids as you walk down the aisle on your wedding day.”
“You’ll figure something out. I have faith in you.” Liss gave Vi a hug and a peck on the cheek for reassurance and then beat a hasty retreat.
A glance at her watch when she was safely inside Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium told Liss that Willa was due in at any minute. As soon as she arrived, Liss intended to head back to Three Cities. She’d had enough of a tour of Lincoln Hall with Melly to be fairly certain she could reach the theater without being seen by Norma or anyone else in the history department. The only problem she could foresee came from the fact that so many doors were kept locked. Still, a master key would solve that problem, and she was certain she could persuade Melly to let her borrow hers.
While she waited for Willa to arrive, she punched in Melly’s number on the shop’s phone. It rang a dozen times before Liss gave up. No Melly, no key. That was a setback she hadn’t anticipated.
The bell over the door jangled loudly. Liss glanced up as Willa breezed into the Emporium, closely followed by Gabe.
“I brought muscle along,” Willa announced. “I thought he could lift that heavy box on the floor in the stockroom up onto a shelf, so I don’t keep tripping over it.”
Liss had no idea what box she was talking about and didn’t care. Her attention was riveted to the key ring Gabe was jiggling in one hand as he crossed the shop. Since he needed both hands free to lift the box, he set the keys down on top of Liss’s worktable.
The one marked with a bit of red tape beckoned to her. The clasp on the key ring was the kind that was easy to open with the thumb tab. Without giving herself time to think better of what she was doing, Liss slid the taped key off the ring and into her pocket. By the time Gabe and Willa turned around, Liss was three feet away from the worktable and wearing an innocent smile.
“Thanks, Gabe,” she said, meaning it. “I have to be away again today. Wedding stuff. If you want to hang around with Willa, I have no problem with that.”
“That’s great, Ms. MacCrimmon.”
“Liss,” she insisted.
She couldn’t fault him for being polite. Her mother would say he was showing respect for his elders. But Liss wasn’t quite ready to be considered an elder by someone less than a decade younger than she was.
“Liss, then. I appreciate it.” Once again, he reminded her of a big puppy dog, only this time she was one who’d just been offered a treat.
“I’ll put him to work,” Willa promised. She ran one hand possessively up Gabe’s well-muscled arm.
“I do have to run down to Three Cities late this afternoon and check on Granddad,” Gabe said as Liss started to leave.
“Oh, I’ll be back long before that,” she called over her shoulder.
I’d better be, she thought. And I’d better hope I can find a way to get that key back onto Gabe’s key ring before he discovers it’s missing.
For the present, however, she had a more immediate goal in mind. She was going to search the theater wing of Lincoln Hall for places where a killer might have hidden a bloodstained sword.
There was no sign of the state police when Liss drove past Lincoln Hall and turned down the driveway to park in “the pit.” There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, either. Only a half dozen cars occupied the parking lot. One was Norma’s, she imagined, but Norma would be at her desk.
Liss tried the door closest to the history department first and found it locked. Satisfied that this meant students would be unlikely to troop through the building while she was conducting her search, Liss circled around to the door that led into the small auxiliary lobby containing the restrooms.
Gabe’s key turned easily in the lock and the door opened without a sound. Glancing once over her shoulder to be certain she hadn’t been observed, Liss slipped inside and scurried up the flight of stairs that led to the main lobby in front of the auditorium.
She half expected the doors to the theater itself to be locked. They were not. It took only a moment to step inside. When the door closed soundlessly behind her, the auditorium was plunged into nearly total blackness. The only illumination came from exit signs. It was eerily quiet, too.
Liss fished for the small but powerful flashlight she’d stashed in her shoulder bag. She wore it slung across her chest so that both hands were free.
The beam of the flashlight showed her an aisle leading to the stage. The auditorium was wider at the back than at the front, narrowing down to the width of the stage. The back of the theater was also higher than the front. Liss felt as if she were descending a ramp as she walked slowly forward. Her soft footfalls on the carpeted aisle made little padding sounds. Nothing else stirred.
Halfway to the stage, Liss paused to shine her flashlight into the rows of seats on either side of the aisle. If the sword had been hidden beneath one of the seats, she’d never find a trace of it. She didn’t have sufficient light to see around and under them all, let alone the time to make such a careful examination of each one. It would be difficult to do a thorough search for bloodstains even if she turned on every light in the place.
“Luminol,” Liss murmured. Was that the right name? She thought so. Whatever it was called, the p
olice used it all the time on cop shows to make blood glow in the dark. Or maybe it only glowed under black light. She wished now that she’d paid more attention, but dramas that featured forensics weren’t really her cup of tea. She much preferred to lose herself in the adventures of an amateur sleuth. Still, that glowy stuff was what she needed and she didn’t have any.
But would the killer have hidden the sword in the auditorium? Probably not, she decided. Surely a murderer who’d planned so carefully to frame someone else for his crime would not take the risk that some stray theater student checking sight lines or acoustics in the auditorium might stumble over the weapon. Bloodstains might be hard to spot, but a sword that big would have stuck out, at least a little. That meant that, if the sword had been left in the theater at all, it must have been hidden somewhere else.
Liss continued on down the aisle and climbed the short flight of steps to one side of the stage. She stood on the apron and shone her flashlight into the wings. The backstage area looked exactly like hundreds she’d seen during the years she toured as a professional dancer.
No production appeared to be in progress at the moment. Liss observed that someone kept the place clean, either a custodian or a work-study student. She sighed. What a shame he’d been so diligent. The stage had been swept recently, which meant that there was no chance of discovering a handy set of footprints in the dust and following them straight to the place where the killer had concealed the sword.
She poked around the backstage area, looking behind the flats stacked against one wall and into an empty trash barrel. On stage left, a flight of stairs led down to a locked door. The area beneath the stage, she recalled, had once been a shop for making sets. These days, it housed the offices of the history department. She saw no point in unlocking that particular door. It would be just her luck to run straight into Norma Leeds on the other side.
Bagpipes, Brides and Homicides (Liss Maccrimmon Scottish Mysteries) Page 19
