The Monarch Graveyard

by James R Nelson

  “I read the first few scenes. I loved it. It’s right up Phillip’s alley. It’s about a haunted house. I can’t wait for you to read it.”

  Two hours later, they arrived at the small Escanaba regional airport. He parked the car. She turned to him. “When are you coming back?”

  “I’m not sure. Depends on what I find out. But I can’t imagine that I’ll be gone more than a week.”

  She took his hand. “I hope not. If something was to happen to mother and you’re not here, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “I know, Honey. I thought about that as soon as I told Phillip I’d go. I’m sorry.”

  She tried to smile. “Let’s all hope for the best. And you be careful. If something happened to you on top of everything else—”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  She waited with him in the airport and then waved as his small plane taxied down the runway. Questions swirled in her head as she drove back to Cliffside Manor. Why was Phillip sending him all the way to Florida? Of course, Mr. Bonaventure’s wife would want Phillip to come. They were friends and business partners. But Stephen? It could be dangerous. What was he going to be able to do? She had to find Phillip the minute she returned.

  Back at Cliffside Manor, Jeanette parked the car and ran to the house. Where would he be? Either the conservatory, his office, or over at Barbara’s cottage. Barbara’s cottage. That sounded so strange. It had been Britt’s cottage for so long.

  Phillip wasn’t in the conservatory or his office. As she walked down the hallway, she heard the tinkling of ice coming from the trophy room. She walked in. “I’m back.”

  Phillip was making a drink. He didn’t look well. She walked over to him. “How are you feeling? Is your ankle bothering you?”

  He turned from the bar. “Oh, damn. I’m so glad you’re back.”

  “What’s wrong? Your hand’s shaking.”

  “I got a call from Judge Flath. That horrible man that kidnapped Stephen…he…he escaped!”

  Jeanette froze. “Paulie DeLuca? He escaped? How? The man’s a murderer. How could he get out?”

  “A guard. They think it was an inside job. He left with a woman who works there. They discovered it around five this morning. They’re looking all over for them.”

  “Should we be worried? You don’t think they’d be coming around here, do you?”

  Phillip shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. This would be the last place that big goon would go.”

  Jeanette sank down in a chair. “Wait until Stephen hears about this.”

  Nine

  Shawn from Atlantic Shores was waiting when Stephen stepped off the plane in Melbourne. “Nice of you to pick me up,” Stephen said. He tossed his suitcase into the back seat. The air was thick with humidity. His shirt was already sticking to him.

  Shawn shook Stephen’s hand. “It’s kind of you to come. Mrs. Bonaventure’s quite upset. Don’t know that I blame her.” He held the car door open.

  On the way to A1A, Stephen asked, “What can you tell me about Cyrus’s disappearance?”

  Shawn’s eyes widened. “It’s the damnedest thing. This stuff never happens around here. Down in Miami, maybe. But here in Melbourne? Never. Anyway, Mr. Bonaventure would go for a stroll down the beach every day. At least that’s what his wife told us. So, Sunday morning.” He paused. “Did you know they were here for a wedding?”

  Stephen nodded.

  “Man, you should’ve seen it. It wasn’t big, but some people from Hollywood showed up. That actress Caroline Brentwood got married. I saw her in a bunch of movies. She’s really—”

  Stephen needed to get him back on track. “Yes, I know her. What about Cyrus? He went for a morning walk. Then what happened?”

  Shawn turned. “You know her?”

  “Yes. But, Cyrus. What happened to Cyrus?”

  “Oh, yeah. Like I was saying. His wife said he went for a walk on the beach, but he never came back. She waited for him up in their room for a few hours and then went looking for him. She found one of his cigars and his hat, but he was gone.” Shawn snapped his fingers. “Gone. Just like that.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  Again, Shawn’s eyes widened. “No, that’s the crazy part. She wouldn’t let us. Danny and Ruth.” He turned to Stephen. “They’re the owners. They wanted to call the cops right away, but Mrs. Bonaventure threw a fit. A big fit. She said absolutely not. Something about her dad had gotten killed down in Mexico. I don’t know what that had to do with anything, but she insisted. She said she’d take care of it.”

  “She’d take care of it? What does that mean?”

  “We don’t know. But Danny told me he’s not waiting around forever. If something doesn’t happen soon, he’s going to make the call.”

  Stephen stared out the window. The sun sparkled on the light green water of the Atlantic Ocean as they drove down highway A1A. Palm trees lined both sides of the road. Why wouldn’t Mrs. Bonaventure call the police? Something wasn’t adding up. Did she know who had taken him?

  Shawn pulled into the Atlantic Shore’s parking lot. “We put you in 2-B. It’s right next to the Bonaventure’s. They’re…um, she’s in 3-B.”

  “Do I need to check in?”

  “No. Some lady who works for Mr. Kahle called and made all the arrangements.”

  “Okay.” He missed that lady already. Stephen carried his bag up to his room and knocked on 3-B.

  The door opened a crack. “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Bonaventure? I’m Stephen. Stephen Moorehouse. My uncle, Phillip Kahle, asked me to come by and see how you were doing. Maybe there’s something I can do to help you with this…situation?”

  She studied him from behind the door. “You’re Stephen? I told Phillip not to have you come. There’s nothing you can do. Why did he send you?”

  “Phillip’s worried. He wants to know what’s going on. He thought maybe I could help.”

  She opened the door wider and motioned for him to enter. “Have a seat. There’s nothing you can do. I think I know what this is all about.” She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair. “Everything could be cleared up in a short time if only Irving would call me back.”

  “That’s another reason my uncle’s worried. Mr. Plotnick’s not returning his calls either. Do you think that could have something to do with what’s going on here?”

  “I don’t think so. My husband and Irving, they’ve been fighting. But I don’t know why.” She lowered her voice. “You can’t say anything about this to anyone. Especially not to your uncle.” She took his arm. “I think they grabbed Cyrus because he owes a bookie some money. If I could get ahold of Irving, I could get the money, and this would all be over with.”

  “So you’ve heard from the kidnappers?”

  “Cyrus likes to play the horses. Everybody knows that. And he’s owed bookies before.” She got up, walked to the bar, and picked up a bottle of vodka. “He thinks I’m stupid and didn’t know.” She turned. “You want a drink?”

  “No, thank you.” Stephen thought for a moment. “If you got the money, would you know who to give it to?”

  “I wouldn’t, but I think one of his friends would. He goes to the track with Cyrus sometimes.” She glanced over at the phone. “Why won’t Irving call me back? I’ve left about twenty messages.”

  Stephen walked to the window and looked out over the ocean. “My uncle tells me that you don’t want the police involved. Have you changed your mind about that?”

  She dropped some ice into her glass. “No. They’ll just mess things up and get him killed. I just need some money. Please, don’t get any ideas about calling the police.”

  She took a seat next to him. Her hand trembled as she lifted her glass. “You asked me if I heard from the kidnappers.” She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. “They sent me a note. I got this today.” She handed it to him.

  He carefully held it by one of its corners. It w
as written in pencil on a regular sheet of paper. “We want $50,000. Hang a red cloth in the window facing A1A when it’s ready. Cypress won’t be hurt if we get the money in a few days. If not, it won’t be so good.”

  “W

  “Nobody.”

  “Did you notice they called him, ‘Cypress’?”

  “I did. Big deal. Cyrus, Cypress…he’s still missing.”

  “Who delivered it to you?”

  “The clerk downstairs said I had some mail. I opened it about an hour before you got here.”

  “The FBI needs to see this. They can examine it for fingerprints.”

  She grabbed the note from him. “No. Give it to me. That’s not going to happen.”

  Stephen stood there. What should he do? She wasn’t going to budge about calling the police. Maybe the money would solve everything, but she didn’t have it. It seemed like this had turned into some kind of stalemate. He turned to her. “Are you hungry? I’m going downstairs to see if I can get something to eat. Would you like to come with me?”

  She shook her head. “You go on. I’m too upset to eat.”

  Downstairs, Shawn made Stephen a ham sandwich. “So how do you know that Caroline actress?”

  At that question, as if on cue, a young woman entered the kitchen. “You must be Stephen.” She pulled up a chair.

  “I am. And you are?”

  “Amber Tibbs. I work here with Shawn.”

  Shawn leaned closer. “You told me on the drive over here that you knew Caroline Brentwood. She’s been in some of your uncle’s movies, hasn’t she?”

  “Your uncle’s movies?” Amber asked. “Who’s your uncle?”

  “Phillip Kahle.” Stephen took a bite of his sandwich.

  Amber’s mouth dropped open. “No kidding. Oh, my goodness. A few months ago, I saw the movie where a monster crawls out of a spooky lagoon. Caroline Brentwood was in that one. And so was Barbara Jenkins. My friend said some of it got made right here in Florida. Is that right?”

  “Yes. We shot some footage at a spring in central Florida.”

  Shawn glared at her. “Dammit, Amber. I’ve asked him three times now about Caroline, and I’ve never got an answer. Stop interrupting.”

  Stephen asked her, “What can you tell me about what happened to Mr. Bonaventure?”

  Amber pulled her chair closer. “I went up to clean their room. I thought they had checked out. But when I saw his wife, I could tell right away something was wrong. She started crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me her husband hadn’t come back from his walk. She thought he might have collapsed from heat stroke or something. She had looked for him but couldn’t find him.”

  Shawn added, “Then Mrs. Bonaventure came down and told us what happened. We all fanned out and searched the beach. We saw the area where Mrs. Bonaventure picked up her husband’s hat, but we never found him.”

  “And she made us promise not to say anything to anybody,” Amber said.

  “What do you think happened to him?” Stephen asked.

  Shawn thought for a moment. “At first I thought he went swimming and got caught in an undertow. Sometimes they’re bad out there. If you don’t know what to do, you tire yourself out and drown. But then, when she found his hat way up on the dune, it looked like someone grabbed him.”

  “What about you, Amber? What do you think?”

  She looked at Shawn. “Um, I think Shawn’s probably right. But I don’t get the part about us not saying anything.”

  Stephen stood. “I appreciate what you’ve told me, and thank you for the sandwich.”

  Shawn’s eye’s widened. “Wait! What about Caroline? You were going to tell me about Caroline.”

  “Some other time. I came to Florida to get something done, and I don’t have a lot of time.” Stephen smiled. “I’m sure you’ll understand.”

  He returned upstairs and knocked on Elena’s door. When she opened it, she had another full glass in her hand.

  She motioned for him to sit. “You want a drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You know, Cyrus was very disappointed that Phillip didn’t make it to the wedding.”

  “So was my uncle. Something came up at the last minute. He just hated to have to cancel. Did you hear he sprained his ankle?”

  “Yes. He told me when we talked yesterday.” She pulled an olive from her glass and popped it into her mouth. “It was a beautiful wedding. I’m so happy for my nephew. Phillip would have had a good time. He would have known more than half the people who showed up.”

  “He’s very happy that Caroline got to meet your nephew on the set of the lagoon movie. He was looking forward to seeing Caroline’s mother again.”

  Elena’s lip curled for a quick second. “Agnes. She’s…um, very interesting. It’s so sad my brother couldn’t be here. He was so excited when Richard got engaged.”

  Stephen remembered what Barbara had said about the large insurance policy. Should he ask? Had he been sick? Was it cancer or something?

  Noticing his hesitation, Elena continued, “Car accident. Four months ago. They almost postponed the wedding, but with the international flights being booked and everything, Richard decided to go on with it.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been terrible for him.”

  She tried to stand, then grabbed the arms of the chair and eased herself back down. “Whew. Anyway, maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t here. My poor late brother didn’t care much for Cyrus. When they were together, if they both had a few, it always ended in a screaming match or something worse.” She picked up the napkin under her drink and wiped her forehead. “Is it hot in here?”

  “No. I’m comfortable. It doesn’t look like there’s much I can do to help you.” He could tell where this was going. One more martini and she’d probably end up on the floor.

  “I told him not to send you. Anyway, thanks for coming.” As she turned toward him, her hand knocked her martini glass onto the carpet. “Oh, look what I’ve done. Wasted some good vodka.” She laughed. “Maybe that’s telling me I had enough.”

  Stephen moved closer to the door. “Phillip will be keeping in touch. If you think of anything we can do, just give him a call.”

  He had just settled in his room, when there was a soft knock on the door. Amber was standing in the hallway. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything. Is your room okay?” She stepped inside.

  “I really haven’t had time to check it out. I was next door talking with Mrs. Bonaventure.”

  She handed him a small paper bag. “I brought you a brownie from the kitchen. I know you’ve been traveling all day.”

  “Thank you.”

  She leaned against the bed. “You sure have a glamorous life. Your uncle’s a famous movie director. You know movie stars.” She tilted her head to the side. “I was in a play once. Always wondered what it would be like to be a movie star.”

  “From what I’ve seen, when actors work, they work very hard, and they’re on the set for long hours. Nobody knows about the working part. All the people see is the glamourous stuff.” Damn. He needed to get her out of there.

  “That don’t bother me any. I’m a pretty hard worker.”

  The phone rang. Stephen stepped over to the nightstand and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s my uncle.”

  Amber’s eyes got wide. “The director?”

  Stephen motioned for the door. “I’m sorry, we’re going to need to talk.”

  She pouted. “Well, if that’s the way it’s got to be.”

  Once she was out of the room, Stephen said, “Okay, I can talk now.”

  “I see you made it to Florida,” Phillip asked. “How was the flight?”

  “The flight was good.”

  Phillip hesitated. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Do you have news about Cyrus?”

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “What?”

  “Paulie
DeLuca. He…he broke out of prison. He’s on the loose.”

  Stephen gripped the phone. “What? He got out? That’s impossible. How did it happen?”

  “It sounds like he had some help from the inside. But I don’t think the judge was telling me everything. All I can say is, you need to be careful when you get back here.”

  “I can’t believe he broke out. Anyway, here’s what I’ve learned so far.” It didn’t take long to update his uncle about his visit with Mrs. Bonaventure.

  Phillip said, “I appreciate the information, but unfortunately, it doesn’t give us anything new. Oh, I was finally able to speak with Irving Plotnick in L.A.”

  “And?”

  “Something’s going on between him and Cyrus. I could tell by what he wasn’t saying.”

  “What is it?”

  “That’s the problem. He wouldn’t say. He was being very evasive. I had to work to get him to tell me the little bit he did say.” He paused. “I need to get out there and talk to him in person. This damn ankle. I don’t like what I’m hearing. Then Cyrus disappears. It’s…it’s not sounding good.”

  “Yes. That doesn’t sound very promising. Mrs. Bonaventure said there were problems between them, but she never said what they were. By the way, how’s your ankle doing?”

  “It’s much better, but these crutches are driving me crazy. Speaking of driving me crazy, Barbara’s at it again. She wants to be entertained all the time. She has no appreciation for nature or contemplative solitude. She’s going stir-crazy sitting around the mansion. I told her I’d take her to Chicago just to get her out of here for a day or two. I really don’t want to go, but I have no choice.”

  Stephen thought for a moment. “What if I head over to L.A. and talk to Mr. Plotnick?”

  Phillip sighed. “I don’t know. I just sent you down to Florida. I’d hate for you to have to pack up everything and leave already.”

  “I haven’t unpacked yet, so that wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t see me learning anything else down here. I’ve talked with everyone I can think of, and Mrs. Bonaventure isn’t cooperating.”

  There was silence from the other end of the phone. “Well, I don’t know. You’ll have to be careful if you go. When it comes to financing movies, there’s some real shady characters involved. I just hope Cyrus isn’t caught up in something like that. Let me think about it. I’ll have Jeanette look into available flights. I’ll call you back when I decide.”