by Sam Cheever
“I can’t control what he does.”
“No. And I’ll deal with him. But you can control what you do. And that’s what I’m telling you to do.”
8
Just my luck the drought would finally break when I was on a job and had to be outside. I stood under the biggest black umbrella I could find and tried to focus on the words being spoken by the pastor.
My gaze wouldn’t stay attached to the fancy mahogany casket for long. It kept wandering around the assembled crowd, wondering if the person who’d killed Josh was standing there, mere feet away. Prickles of unease crept down my back on sharp little feet as I realized the person who’d shoved me into the pool was probably there. If he’d been invited to the wake…
I blinked, wondering if there was a way to get hold of that invitation list. Or would the Mitners have been that organized? Maybe they’d just told everybody when and where it would be as they had with me and let people come and go at will.
There was only one way to find out.
I mentally kicked myself. I was doing exactly what the Lieutenant told me not to do. That was the moment I realized, with a fair amount of consternation, that my dad knew me better than I knew myself. He’d known I’d be unable to resist sticking my nose into the case.
Even the fact that I was calling it a case showed I was already involved in it.
In the case.
I winced. I was hopeless.
Beside me, Mrs. Mitner stood dry-eyed. Her gaze was slightly glassy, and I assumed she’d been drugged into calmness. I had a sudden urge to reach out and wrap my arm around her. If it had been my mom standing there, I’d have wanted someone to give her comfort.
My gaze slipped to Alex Mitner. He had more color in his cheeks than he’d had the night before and his eyes were dry. But his gaze was skimming the crowd just as I’d been doing. I wondered if he was thinking the killer might be there too.
“Amen,” said the pastor.
“Amen,” said the crowd.
I blinked in surprise as Mrs. Mitner stepped forward, her husband finally taking her arm and helping her to the casket, where she laid a single, long-stemmed white rose on the shiny surface.
The Mitner’s walked away, heading for the dark SUV waiting at the curb. Mr. Mitner was all but holding his wife up as she stumbled toward the car.
“Are you okay?”
I looked up into Eddie’s eyes and nodded. “I feel so badly for her.”
He looked at me strangely. “Family and friends are going to the house. I don’t suppose you’re interested?”
I started to shake my head and then remembered I wanted to ask about the guest list from the night before. “I don’t want to, but I do need to return Mrs. Mitner’s clothes to her.”
I’d washed and dried the velour suit early that morning. I hadn’t bothered washing the fish-flops. I figured a little masking dirt might improve rather than take away from their inherent ugliness.
“Do you mind if I ride along? My car’s at the house. I rode over with the Mitners.”
I nodded, and he took my arm as we began to pick our way over the soggy grass. My umbrella kept hitting him in the cheek, so he took it from me and held it over both of us.
“I spoke to the Lieutenant last night.”
Eddie spared me a quick, suspicious glance. “Oh?”
“Yeah. He remembered where he’d met you before.”
Deitz sighed. “I hope you’re not going to hold it against me?”
I shrugged. “I get being passionate about your job. But he’s already warned me to stay away from all this.” I swung an arm to encompass the cemetery and the guests hurrying to their cars.
“From cemeteries? Funerals?”
I gave him a look and dug my keys out of my black clutch. “You know what I mean.”
He took the keys and opened my door for me, holding the umbrella over my head as I ducked inside.
When he was in the passenger seat, I glanced his way. “It’s hard always being surrounded by cops.”
“I can imagine.” He frowned. “What do they think about you being an actress?”
“Actor.”
His lips twitched. “Sorry. How sexist of me.”
I shrugged. “It’s not that. I just don’t think women should be named or treated differently for doing the same job. We don’t call female cops, copess’s.”
He chuckled. “Good point. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“I think they mostly respect me for going my own way. But deep down, I suspect they believe what I do isn’t important.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think it is.”
I didn’t even try to hide my shock. “You do?”
“Yep. Entertaining people is important. People need books and theater and music. It’s an important part of our lives. It keeps us sane in a crazy, confusing world.”
Against my will, my lips curved upward. “I couldn’t agree more.”
His dark brows lowered and his face darkened. Warning bells went off in my brain. “But what you do is different, isn’t it? No less important, I guess. But different. You pretend to be someone you’re not when people are at their most vulnerable. It rides a razor edge between being a good thing and a bad thing.”
Heat flooded my face. I knew that if I looked in the mirror my cheeks would be fiery red. “What are you trying to say, Deitz?”
He held my gaze, not backing down a smidge. “I’m saying I know you’re a fake mourner at a company called Exit Stage Left. Clever name. I’m sure your clients get quite a chuckle out of it.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“Am I?” He leaned close, his nose mere inches from mine, and his color rose too. “Josh was my best friend. He was murdered in the prime of his life. And you stand around pretending to know him? Lying to everyone about it? Pretending you understand their pain?”
I didn’t back away. “I do understand their pain. I’ve lived it. Recently. Myself. I’m not lying. I’m doing a job that I was hired to do. And I’d like to think I’ve given people comfort from my work.”
We glared at each other for a long moment. Then Eddie seemed to deflate, some of the angry color leaving his face. He sat back, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “I know about your mom.”
I gasped. “What the heck? Did you do background on me?”
“I did. I’m sure your dad told you what I do for a living. I needed to know who you really were.”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe I could have been Josh’s girlfriend?”
“Because Josh didn’t have girlfriends. He was a free agent and happy to be one. And because if you’d dated Josh your name would have been Cherry or Bambi or something equally clichéd.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Josh had a type. And let’s just say you’re the opposite of that type.”
“Got it.” I sat back, my chest heaving with emotion. “The Mitners hired me. It won’t do you any good to out me to them.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t like being lied to.”
I lifted my hands. “Hello? You haven’t exactly told me your life’s story. I think we’ve both been guilty of some level of dishonesty. At least I had a legitimate excuse.”
He frowned. “You have a point. As much as it galls me.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
He caught me grinning and barked out a laugh. “Okay, let’s start over.” He held out his hand. “Eddie Deitz, PI and friend of the deceased. I’m pretty sure Josh was murdered. I intend to find out who killed him.”
I nodded, taking his hand. “MayBell Ferth, mourning actor at Exit Stage Left. And, after being threatened and nearly killed last night, I’m inclined to agree with you that Josh was murdered.”
“Good. We’ll start there.” He fixed me with an intense gaze. “Do you want to help me find out who killed J
osh?”
My heart said yes as my head shook no. “I shouldn’t.”
“I know your dad warned you away from this but, to be honest, May, I’m pretty sure you’re safer if you stick close to me. Whoever killed Josh has clearly decided that you and I are a danger to them.”
Horror made my stomach twist as I realized he was right. “Still…”
“I won’t pressure you. But if you change your mind...”
“I’ll let you know.” I started the car and pulled away from the curb. In the moments since we’d climbed into Betty, the cemetery had emptied. We were one of only two cars still there.
The other one was a black SUV that looked a lot like the Mitners’.
As I wound my way through Riverside Cemetery, a question occurred to me. “Why do you supposed Mr. Mitner felt the need to hire me to play Josh’s girlfriend?”
Deitz clipped his seatbelt and sat back, sighing. “He thought Josh was gay and it embarrassed him.”
“That’s so sad…”
There was a horrendous crunching sound. Betty jerked forward, falling off the narrow cemetery road and bouncing along the grass.
We missed a big, granite monument by inches and were heading for another one. With a panicked cry, I yanked the wheel to the left and managed to miss the headstone, sideswiping a memorial vase and sending flower petals flying.
I fought the car as we bounced over a fresh grave and finally managed to ease her back onto the road. When we were moving smoothly forward again, I pulled air into my lungs. “What just happened? Did we blow a tire?”
Eddie was turned in his seat, his wide gaze focused through the back window. “I’m afraid not. It appears your friend from last night isn’t going to wait to see if we accepted his warning.”
I glanced in the rear-view mirror just in time to see the big, dark car accelerate toward us again.
9
“Oh no you don’t!” I hit the gas and Betty shot forward, sending Eddie slamming back into his seat with the power of her acceleration. “Hold on, Deitz. This is gonna get bumpy.”
The SUV hung back for a beat, probably surprised by the velocity with which my car had moved. But it didn’t take the driver long to adjust. A beat later the car was surging toward us again.
I watched it come, my gaze wavering between the mirror and the narrow, winding road ahead. I eyed the distance to the exit, wondering if we could make it out onto open road, where we might get lucky and be seen speeding along by a patrol cop.
But that didn’t seem likely. There was a lot of narrow, winding road between us and the large iron gates. Encompassing over eighty-seven acres and overlooking the French Broad River, Riverside Cemetery was one of Asheville’s largest and oldest cemeteries. Josh’s family had a section clear at the back, in a beautiful but secluded section of the cemetery.
The SUV surged forward. I pressed a little harder on the gas, conscious of the hairpin turn coming up an eighth of a mile ahead. As the car neared my bumper, I jerked the wheel sideways, easing off the road and shooting between a crypt and a double monument with inches to spare.
We blasted past a concrete angel and I said a quick prayer, hoping she was open for business as the SUV kept pace with us on the nearby road.
I jerked Betty right and then left and right again, easing her around monuments and under the overarching branches of a big tree on a small hill.
Her tires left the ground for a beat as we came over the top of the hill and I saw with chagrin that we were headed for another crypt. I couldn’t steer around it with my tires off the ground. Betty’s front tires hit the grass and I jerked the wheel hard. We careened toward the big memorial, grass and flowers flying up behind us as Betty’s rear tires skimmed over a gravesite and skidded under the violence of the turn.
We skipped sideways a couple of feet, the granite walls of the crypt flying up on us as Betty fought to gain purchase on the slippery, wet grass. We missed the crypt by mere inches, shooting forward to ease past another tree and between two more gravesites.
Ahead of us was a narrow ribbon of flat markers, with only the memorial vases filled with colorful plastic flowers to show where the gravesites were. Obstacles were light in that section, but there were fewer places to hide too.
I slammed on the brakes and we skidded to a stop mere inches from the first marker.
To our right, the SUV eased to a stop, idling quietly as a soft rain sifted down onto its glossy surface. Its darkened windows hid the driver from sight. Without a human face to blame for its aggressiveness, the car itself felt like something evil stalking poor Betty.
Eddie and I stared at the big SUV. My heart pounded, and I was huffing air as if I’d just run a marathon.
“What now?” I asked the PI next to me.
He shook his head. “Can you outrun it?”
I slid my gaze over the field in front of us. “On open road, no problem. But trying to avoid driving over these gravesites, in slippery grass, I’m not sure.”
He nodded, pulling out his phone and handing it to me. “Call your brother.”
I bit my lip. The last thing I wanted to do was involve my family.
Eddie lifted dark brows in question. “Do you want me to call him?”
“No. I don’t want either of us to call him. I want to figure out how to get out of this without involving my family.”
“Fair enough,” Eddie said. “But that means outrunning the SUV over those gravesites.”
I expelled air, working my bottom lip as I ran through my options. I looked in the rearview mirror, trying to see an option back there I’d missed. The germ of an idea occurred. I looked left. A lone car eased along the road leading to the back of the cemetery.
I made my decision.
I slipped Betty into reverse. “Hold on!” I hit the gas, shooting backward with my gaze locked on the rearview mirror. A few feet away from a monument, I slammed on the brakes and shoved it into Drive, jamming my foot down on the gas again. We shot forward, staying in the narrow aisle between the top of one row of headstones and the bottom of the other.
“Where are you going?” Eddie screamed over Betty’s roaring engine.
“There’s an exit back here that not too many people know about.” I pressed the brakes as Betty’s tires hit the loose dirt of a freshly dug grave and slid sideways. We hit the corner of a flat marker and the tires found purchase, allowing us to shoot forward again. “What’s the SUV doing?”
“He’s barreling around on the road. I think he’s planning on cutting us off.”
Panic flared in my breast. He’d be able to make better time than Betty on the nice smooth road. But at the same time, he had to slow for turns and at least one curve. With our straight trajectory, I was hoping I had enough of a head start to give us an edge.
It was going to be close.
Dangerously close.
I pressed harder on the gas, my arms starting to ache from the constant corrections on the uneven ground.
The road I needed was just ahead. I shot a look toward the SUV and saw that he’d made great time. He was about two city blocks away and closing fast.
I gave Betty gas and she shimmied a bit, her tires bouncing mercilessly over the wet grass. The road shot up fast and, when Betty’s tires were five feet away, I hit the brakes and turned the wheel. Betty’s back end spun around and I corrected, sending us into a sideways slide that slowed when all four tires hit the pavement.
I didn’t wait for the slide to stop. I hit the gas and shot forward, my eye on a caretaker’s hut about fifty yards ahead and on the right. If I remembered right, there was a short gravel drive leading to the hut.
I’d be forced to slow for that.
“How far away?” I shouted to Eddie.
“Twenty yards and closing fast.”
“Dang!” Betty gave a throaty roar as I pressed her pedal to the floor, earning us a few much-needed yards as the gravel drive came into sight.
“I’m going to have to make this interesting
. I don’t want him to know what I’m doing until it’s too late for him to follow.”
Eddie barked out a laugh. “This hasn’t been interesting so far?”
I spared him a grin. “Saddle up, cowboy.”
We were fifteen feet from the drive when I slammed on the brakes. Betty’s back tires squealed and sent up black smoke. She fishtailed for a beat before I eased up on the brake and, as the gravel road shot up on our right, yanked the wheel to send Betty’s front end onto the rocks.
Behind us, the SUV hit the brakes, the big tires striking a puddle and sending water in a spray that accompanied a truly impressive fishtail. The slide carried the top-heavy car’s back end off the road and it crunched into a sapling before the driver overcorrected and sent the front tires off a wedge monument, careening into the air.
I didn’t wait to see how he landed. I accelerated toward the hut, my eyes fixed on a spot just behind it.
Eddie braced his hands on the dash and jammed his feet into the floorboards. “May!”
I almost grinned. At the last, possible moment, I turned the wheel and swerved around the small hut, heading down a rutted dirt road toward an opening between two massive trees.
A moment later we were speeding along a tree-lined road, clear pavement behind us as far as the eye could see.
I parked in front of the Mitners’ and we climbed out. We stood on the wet asphalt for a moment, letting the excitement of the cemetery chase ease away before we went inside.
Eddie caressed Betty’s panting front end, shaking his head. “I don’t know which one of you girls I want to propose to first.”
I snickered. “Betty’s easier to live with. I snore and hog the bed.”
Eddie’s dark brows climbed skyward. “You don’t say.”
I flushed with embarrassment. “And that just happened.”
He chuckled. “That was some pretty fantastic driving back there.”
I couldn’t stop a pleased grin from forming. “The Lieutenant made us all train in Advanced Precision Driving at the police testing facility. I excelled in skid control.”
