by Anita Higman
Hmm. My problem? “No, I didn’t go.”
He released me from his chilly grasp and looked down at me. In the depths of those black eyes, I saw a flash of cunning and otherworldliness that made me step back.
Vlad’s lips parted. “Well, you should consult with a doctor. B.J.’s troubles only got worse.”
Yeah, I guess you can safely say that. I glanced out a window and noticed a darkening of the sky as the sun was suddenly eclipsed by a cloud. Guess even the sun was afraid of Vlad.
“Never shun the inevitable, but embrace it. That is a truth worth living for.” Vlad folded his hands as if they were a bird folding its wings. “At least I have found it so.”
I wondered if he were still quoting dead poets, or if that was one of his own inspirations. I straightened my shoulders and looked him in the eye. “How may I help you?”
“Well, I just needed some advice.”
The man looked positively sheepish. I didn’t trust him with such an innocent expression, since he had more in common with wolves than lambs. What was he up to? “Yes? And what is that?” I was hoping to speed things along and assist him in his exit.
“If you could help with me with something. . .romantic.” Vlad raised his hand with a flourish.
“Romantic.” I almost bellowed the word. What did he mean? I crossed my arms. “I suppose this has something to do with Dedra.”
Vlad looked toward my living room. If he was hoping I’d invite him to stay for coffee he was quite mistaken. I cleared my throat.
“How did you know it had something to do with Dedra?”
“She’s my best friend, and word travels fast on this street. Bad or good.” I thought I’d give Vlad a hint of something to think about.
“Oh, right.” He took a lock of his tresses and slid it behind his ears. “Well, I wondered what her favorite flowers were. I wanted to surprise her.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you. Maybe she told me at some point, but I just can’t remember. Dedra loves all flowers, so I’m sure whatever you choose will delight her.”
“All right. That’s good to know.” He nodded. “Thanks for the tip.”
My eyes narrowed a bit. “You know, speaking of flowers, Dedra is a little like a gardenia. Easy to bruise.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell Vlad about Dedra’s past emotional problems, but he needed to tread lightly. Or not at all. Preferably, not at all.
A flash of something indiscernible came and went through Vlad’s countenance. “I got that impression. Dedra seems rather vulnerable.”
You mean easy prey. “Yes, she is.”
He smoothed the already perfect lapels of his black leather jacket. “But I don’t intend to hurt her, Bailey. I hope you know that.” Now Vlad seemed genuinely hurt.
“Okay.” Feeling something akin to guilt, but not quite, I thought I’d toss him a neighborly bone. “So, did Woody G. get your fence fixed okay?”
“Yes, he did. Good workers, all of them, and now I have no more threat of alligators in my backyard. If they come up in the bayou now, they’ll just have to find a hole in someone else’s fence.” He released a chuckle as silky as crème brulee.
I was supposed to laugh too, but my mouth simply refused. “My fence has a big hole.” I cocked my head. “But then I don’t have an alligator phobia, just a healthy respect for things that can be. . .volatile.”
Vlad looked puzzled. “But you should still get your fence fixed.”
“I guess I should.” I raised my chin. “Apparently, I need to be ready for the unexpected.”
Then Vlad winced as if I’d slapped him.
Had I talked too sharply? Been too bold? God, please tell me who I am to help and who I am to be wary of. My ability to discern was out of order—the machine needed a good wallop. I put on a happy face so he’d go away. Then I noticed something—Vlad’s shoes. Vivid blue with pale gems inlayed along the heel. Not quite a boot, but not really an ordinary shoe. Who would wear something so garish and glitzy? Maybe a country singer?
Vlad took a step closer to me. “I see you’ve noticed my shoes. I’ve always had an attraction to things that dazzle the eye.”
What an understatement coming from the rhinestone cowboy. “Well, they certainly got my attention.”
He stroked his chin with his fingers. “By the way, Dedra mentioned that you had a very unique house structurally. In fact, she said you had a hidden passageway somewhere in your house. Sounds fascinating.” He shook his head and chuckled. “You see, along with loving distinctive shoes, I’m also this aficionado of old houses.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m longing for a tour, if you have the time.”
My, my, my. I’d definitely have to give Dedra a rudimentary lesson entitled Discretion 101. Secrets went through her like water through a spaghetti strainer. Her mouth had a built-in megaphone. Most likely highlights of the passageway would appear on the evening news. “I don’t think so today. I’m feeling really tired.”
Vlad pulled out his devastating smile—the one meant to melt the resistance of all females within a five-mile radius. I put a determined heat shield over my heart, angry that he’d come over, tossing around his gorgeous splendor like he knew he had lots of extra to throw away. “But, maybe another time,” I said.
“Very good.” He shook his manicured finger at me. “I’m going to hold you to your promise.”
So, my fiendish neighbor was going to try to sweet talk his way into the passageway. Well, I was not so easily swayed. He was still up to something bad, and it had nothing to do with loving old houses. If only you knew. The treasure had been found, and the game was officially over. Now if I could just reel in the villain. But Vlad was clever, and he wasn’t about to make things easy for me.
Vlad slid his hand along the entry table and stared at my camera. “So, how’s your photography coming along?”
I could never seem to remember to put my camera away. “I’m not much of a photographer. I might improve if I’d actually take some photos.” I tried to laugh, but it went all puny on me.
“Well, you can take a photo of me now.” Vlad brightened and got himself readied for a pose.
Oh, great. Why did I have to say that? Why, why, why? “Okay. Sure.” Then I was going to insist that Mr. Vlad Tepes leave the building. I had phone calls to make. Important phone calls. To Max for starters. I flung the camera strap around my neck, pretended to be concerned about getting just the right shot, and then snapped the picture. “There we go. I think I got a good one.” Please don’t ask to look at it. Please, please.
“Great. Well, then, I hope you have a treasured day.” He winked at me.
“Thanks.” Hmm. Odd choice of words. “Bye now.”
“Goodbye…for now.”
I shut the door, feeling deeply grateful to see the back side of Vlad’s head. Even if he turned out to be guiltless and guileless, which I doubted was the case, I didn’t like him. He was too smooth, and I hated to see Dedra taken in by his suave ways only to be dropped when he found someone else.
Enough of Vlad. I pulled the cell phone out of my pocket and tried Max’s numbers again. Still nothing. Where was he? There was so much to discuss: Joby and her case worker, the wedding, the Sisterhood, and the cellar, and the ruby. With so much backed-up news, I’d need to schedule a month’s summit talk with Max, not merely a chat. Some of the confusion could have been avoided if only I had told Max a few secrets along the way. Guess I needed some coaching from Dedra.
I paced around the entry hall, wondering what agency I’d need to call about Joby. While my mind worked on that subject, I noticed a book on the entry table. Another novel on loan from Magnolia. I picked it up. The Key to Life and Death. What a title. I glanced at the back. Guns. Lots and lots of guns. Didn’t seem like anything Magnolia would buy. The word “gun” stuck in my head. What had Joby said? B.J. Ware was a mean man with a gun. Is that what she’d said? Why hadn’t I thought of that before? Of course, I was a little diverted and troubled at the time.
My
hands trembled as I set the book back down on the table. But I’d never told Joby about B.J.’s gun. How could she have known he had a gun if she hadn’t been inside his house? Joby had promised me she’d only tried the door and found it to be open. She’d never gone inside. Was Joby lying again? Could she have entered his house, angry at B.J. for this threats, and then scared him into an early death? If that theory turned out to be true, would I be forced to tell the police? What would happen to Joby? They would take her away somewhere, and she would never trust a living soul again.
My stomach growled out its uneasiness as my head went light. God, please don’t let it be true. Please. I beg you. We need some mercy here.
I sat down in the living room with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. Lunch time had come, but the last thing on my mind was food. Since the skeleton key had been busy grinding its way into my flesh, I pulled it out of my pocket. I went back to my original position and simply shook my head. The camera, which was still around my neck, dangled and swayed in my indecision. Without much thought, I pushed a button on the camera. The photo of Vlad popped up.
As I sat glaring at him I wondered now more than ever if Vlad was an innocent man or a guilty man. His lips turned up in a smile, but his eyes glinted with something beyond handsome. Who was he? Really? I had to know. For Joby’s sake—to clear her name. And for Dedra’s sake.
Numbly, I switched to the next photo on my camera. B.J. Ware’s body lit up the small screen. I gasped. How in the world could I have a photo of his body? What had happened? Then I remembered the snap. On the day I’d discovered B.J. there had been a vague clicking sound. I’d mashed the button accidentally, and then in the midst of my distress, I had forgotten about the photo.
I took a closer look at the picture—at the scar on B.J.’s chin. He surely had to be Buford, the man who’d tried to buy Volstead Manor. Even though I’d found the treasure, I knew a piece of the mystery was still alive and still a menacing threat to those I loved. So many loose ends. But perhaps all I needed was one tight rope to tie them together.
Closing my eyes, I once again turned my heart toward heaven. God, help me now. I feel as though everything is coming to a boiling point, and so the time for resolution is at hand.
When I opened my eyes, my gaze fell back on the camera. Something on the little screen caught my attention. A tiny and round and reflective object sat near B.J.’s head, so I honed in on that one spot with the maximum zoom my camera would allow. A blue stone, like a topaz, sat not far from B.J’s body.
I tapped my forehead. What did that remind me of? I knew instantly—Vlad’s shoes—the ones he’d worn today. His shoes had been cobalt blue leather, which was extraordinary enough, but the heels were inlaid with several light blue sparkly stones. And as women knew well, doodads on shoes were notorious for falling off at the worst possible times. He must have had the same shoes on the day of the murder. So, a faux stone from a designer shoe was the smoking gun? Couldn’t be. Seemed too bizarre. But all the facts plus the new revelation equaled guilt.
Even in the chilly house, I dabbed at the sweat trickling down my face. Bottom line—Vlad had been in the house when B.J. died, and he’d lied about it. Vlad had never called an ambulance when his stepbrother collapsed with a heart attack. If Vlad had been innocent, he would have called for help. But instead, he just left the body there with the front door ajar, hoping someone would discover it. Someone like me.
New realities whirled at me like fiery meteors. I rose up out of the chair and set my camera down. All the people who appeared to have ominous plans surely had to be innocent now even though they each had motive and access. Eunice apparently had some problems with mental instability and anger issues, but suddenly I felt certain she hadn’t committed murder. And Joby, my dear Joby, who delighted in scaring people half to death, had to be innocent of any retribution against B.J. I counted that for my biggest blessing. And the plague of alligators and Ozzie Keebly would turn out to be no more than a sideshow in a tragic farce.
A deep shiver ran through me as I imagined the scene as it unfolded on that dark day. First, Vlad snuck into the house, which would have been easy since B.J. was infamous for leaving his side door open. Then after donning one of his freaky masks, and possibly flashing a gun, Vlad frightened his stepbrother with malicious intent. Since B.J. wouldn’t have known who was behind the mask, he must have headed toward the closet to retrieve his shotgun. In his fear and struggle, B.J.’s heart had failed. Then he collapsed, striking his forehead on the edge of the closet door.
So, even though no shot was fired, B.J. was murdered by his stepbrother, Vlad Tepes. And the motive? That part remained nebulous, and yet I felt Vlad’s sinister purpose was connected to the treasure—the ruby. Perhaps something that valuable was hard for two stepbrothers to share. The instant I felt these truths penetrate my brain and the conviction set on my brow, the front door made a clicking sound. Then it groaned open. I hurried toward the front door just as Vlad strode in.
“Sorry, it appears I’ve forgotten something,” he said, looking over at me.
And I forgot to lock my front door. “Oh? And what did you forget?” My voice shook ever so slightly. I grinned, smothering the panic on my face.
Vlad’s gaze intensified as he studied me. Those cold black eyes of his seemed both hungry for a misstep and satisfied in sensing one. He didn’t answer me, but instead, looked away and nonchalantly picked up his pen off the entry table. Had he left it in hopes of returning? But for what reason? A sly grin covered his face. The type that made my stomach do summersaults. But not the good kind.
Vlad took a step closer to me. “Why Bailey, you’ve grown quite pale.”
25 – The Dark Side
“I’m fine. Really.” The pitch of my voice went higher than expected, making an odd croak. Somehow I knew everything was about to change between us. I also noticed Vlad no longer had a slightly British accent. It had all been a show. Everything. His generosity, his phobia, his caring for Dedra—all of it. A lie.
“I’m very concerned about you.” Vlad took two and a half steps closer to me.
“Concerned? Well, that’s always nice to have someone anxious about my health.” Now was not the time for conflict. I’d learned one thing from watching movies—never confront a villain with his crime while alone with said villain. Bad idea. Somebody always died.
“Yes, of course I’m concerned.” He arched a brow. “Well, well, well, look what you found.”
“What?”
Vlad pointed to my hand. “Looks like a skeleton key.”
I looked at my fist, and there were the metal notches of the skeleton key sticking out from my tightly gathered fingers. Why hadn’t I been more careful to hide it? I slipped the key back in my pocket. “Sad to say, I discovered it doesn’t open anything.” And that was totally true. It’d been the brass coil on top of the perfume bottle that had been the real key. Just like this old house to fool me.
Vlad looked around as he made a few more casual steps toward me. “I’m sure this old manor still has a creepy door or two that has yet to be opened. Perhaps you just need a little assistance.”
If I could keep the conversation light, he might go, and then I could call the police. “Tell you what, I promise if you come back tomorrow, I’ll give you the grand tour. And we can see if there’re any doors left to open.” Hopefully, tomorrow he’d be in prison.
“That would be marvelous. I have always enjoyed the beauties and eccentricities of older homes. They have a lot of character, and sometimes they’re filled with surprises. My stepbrother was fascinated with old houses too.”
“Really?” Vlad made no move to leave. I cleared my throat. Keep things pleasant, Bailey, and slow your voice. “So, you and your stepbrother shared a lot of the same interests.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.” His expression darkened. “The man had passion, but he lacked acumen.” Vlad seemed to be talking to no one at all. “In fact, my stepbrother was not only a dis
figured and unworthy soul, but he was unkempt and uneducated. He was a red-neck. They have no style.” His last words came out like the hiss of a snake.
Okay, I was in a little trouble. Could he see dread in my eyes? Any flicker of disagreement on my part might be a grave error. “Oh? So, you weren’t close to your stepbrother after all?” Why did I say that? Bad move. It accused Vlad of lying, and it took me one step closer to a confession. And receiving too much information from a murderer was usually bad for one’s health. Don’t become a liability, Bailey. Get him out of the house while he’s still happy.
“Let’s just say that B.J. was never sure what he really wanted. And that lack of certainty made him selfish. He came from my father’s side of the family. The dark side.”
I would have chuckled over his last remark, if times had been different. But they weren’t. “I’m sure you loved him.” Keep it light. Keep it light.
“Love comes in many forms.” Vlad slid his ink pen back and forth between his long, pale fingers. “You’ve heard of tough love?”
Vlad knows I suspect him now. “I have heard of that term.” What do I do now? If he confesses to the murder, I’m dead. “It’s when you love people enough to help them do the right thing.”
“You are perceptive.” Vlad sniffed the air. “I couldn’t have said it better.”
“No, no.” I waved my hand. “I’m not intuitive at all. Actually, my friends make fun of me, saying I’m so unobservant that I barely notice when the sun comes up. Yeah, that’s me.” I almost slapped my hand on my forehead. What a motor mouth. “But I do read a lot. You know, books.”
“Yes, I see you have one there on your entry table. The Key to Life and Death. Brand new. I’ve read it. It’s a good whodunit. It was really hard to figure out who killed the young woman. Keeps you on the edge. . .until the very end.”
My hands shook, so I clasped them behind me. “Well, I haven’t read it yet, so please don’t give away the ending.” My voice was no longer steady. I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I had a full meltdown. Vlad was a murderer, and he wasn’t looking at me with benevolence.
