Guns and Ammo and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  For a long moment I stood there, panting, back pressed to the cupboard door, terrified and positive at any second Eddie was going to either leap out of the darkness of my room and attack me or start pounding on the wardrobe behind me. It took Petunia’s soft whining of worry to force me to pull myself together and make me cross to my bedroom door.

  I made it to Jill’s without anyone (Eddie) trying to kill me (that I knew of) and almost sobbed in relief as she let me in after a short round of anxious and knuckle bruising knocking. I’m pretty sure I sounded like a crazy woman in those first few breaths as I struggled between needing to tell her what I found and trying to actually breathe in a way that wouldn’t mean falling to the ground in a solid faint.

  Understanding dawned on her face finally and she left me, still babbling about darkness and stairs and Eddie, to stride to her own wardrobe door and jerk the panel open. She disappeared inside a moment before returning to nod to me, grim and yet almost delighted, if I read her right.

  “Let’s go see what he’s been up to,” she said.

  Now, I would honestly have rathered stay put, to be honest. But when she handed me a small flashlight and dove into the space behind her cupboard I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. I couldn’t let her deal with this alone, right?

  The flashlight made a big difference, and having Jill with me? Eased enough of my tension and feelings of being in a horror movie by the time we crossed the first span on our hands and knees, Petunia cocking her head at me like she had no idea why I was at her level all of a sudden, it actually started being kind of fun. Way better having light and someone there—someone with a gun and a grim expression of determined focus—to have my back.

  In all fairness, I had hers. She led the way and I let her, totally and completely. Yes, there were times when faced with a mystery I didn’t have the sense Mother Nature gave a gnat, but even I had my limit.

  It was Jill who found the crossroad where the tunnel led over the central corridor of the upstairs and over the other side, back to where my room waited, empty and quiet. When we emerged into Eddie’s room, it was to find him returned, looking first startled, then abruptly resigned.

  “I can explain,” he said, holding both hands up while Jill’s weapon leveled at his chest.

  “I’m sure,” she said, so dry I needed a drink of water. “Hands behind your head and kneel, Mr. Mauer.”

  He complied without a word, frowning but not arguing while she circled carefully behind him and put him in cuffs. I exhaled slowly, fury building as I realized someone I’d once called a friend had tried to kill me.

  Yup. I lost it.

  “What is wrong with you?” I actually stomped one foot, looking around for something to throw at him, anything. Violence seemed a reasonable response to how I was feeling.

  But Eddie was shaking his head, so genuine in his denial I held my temper one last moment. Long enough for him to plead his case before I was the one doing the murdering.

  “I didn’t kill Grayson,” he said. “Please, you have to believe me.”

  “Why is that?” Jill gestured for him to stand, seating him firmly on the bed, her weapon holstered again, arms crossed over her chest. “Tell me a bedtime story, Mr. Mauer. Make it a good one.” Her eyes met mine, almost amused. “If I like it, I won’t let Fee here hurt you for trying to kill her twice.”

  Eddie licked his lips, looking back and forth between us. “I had nothing to do with that,” he said. His shoulders slumped, expression settling into frustration and disappointment. “I found the passages when we were renovating, but I kept them to myself. The family that owned this place were crazy survivalists.” Yes, I’d heard that from Jill. “I had my suspicions, so when I found the escape routes, I figured I could use them to my advantage.”

  “To kill people?” Jill prodded him with her words and her blunt attitude.

  “No.” He grimaced, hesitated. “To steal from guests.”

  So, supposedly not a murderer but a thief. Classy.

  “There’s all kinds of tunnels under this place, too,” he said, “some even leading to the river.” Huh.

  “I heard they all went nuts and murdered each other.” Jill didn’t sound convinced.

  Eddie shrugged. “From what I found out, the father went to prison for tax evasion and the rest had to move because the property went into receivership.”

  “You should have told me about this when Mr. Gallinger turned up dead.” Jill’s tone hadn’t changed. “If you were innocent, you would have.”

  He barked a short, angry laugh. “Right, like you wouldn’t have arrested me then and there. I figured if I told you I’d be suspect number one.”

  “Like right now,” I said.

  Eddie didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. Instead, he launched into trying to make himself sound innocent by incriminating himself in other ways. “Listen, I know it’s wrong, okay? I planned to steal from visitors once the camp was up and running. Or get some blackmail content, steal secrets. Thanks to Grayson I had access to the kinds of guests who could make me rich if I played my cards right.”

  He and Ryan deserved each other. “And that’s supposed to convince us you didn’t murder Grayson? Maybe he found out about your plan.”

  Eddie laughed again, a low, sad chuckle this time. “Trust me, if Grayson knew, he’d be in on it and demand 80%. The jackal.”

  Well, you choose friends like that, you get what you deserve. Including accused of murder.

  “I’m deep in debt,” Eddie said. “Grayson’s help wasn’t what he’d promised and Blackstone decided to cut me off. So yeah, Fee, you were right. I guess I had motive to kill the old bastard. But I didn’t.”

  I glanced at the wardrobe door. “Did you tell anyone else about the passages, Eddie?”

  He scowled at me, but shook his head. “I didn’t,” he said. “All I can guess is that whoever actually murdered Grayson, who tried to kill you, found them. Like you did.”

  Uh-huh. Likely story. And yet, why then did part of me want to believe him?

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  A well-placed chair wedged against the front of the wardrobe blocked off the passage in Eddie’s room, though Jill made sure to handcuff him to the metal plumbing in his bathroom and lock the door before even considering leaving him to go gather Mom and Bill. That worried me, only because it made me think maybe she didn’t believe he’d done the deeds—if she had her man, wouldn’t she be okay with me leaving on my own?

  Shiver. I wasn’t so sure I was confident about Eddie’s guilt, either.

  The other shudder-inducing freak-out thought that wouldn’t leave me alone? The times I’d woken with the feeling someone was watching me just might have been actual incidents of someone watching me. Namely, Eddie. In my sleep. Just. Ew.

  I thought Ryan was a creep.

  Jill’s insistence we tell Crew wasn’t making me feel any better. With Mom huddled next to me at the kitchen counter, one arm around my shoulders and Bill looming with Moose at his side, I had to listen to the deputy tell the sheriff what I’d found and how while I winced at the sigh broadcast over the CB.

  To his credit, he didn’t give me a hard time. Didn’t have to, I guess. Instead, he filled us in on what he’d discovered and planned to share in the morning.

  No time like the dark and creepy present.

  “I can confirm Blackstone was pulling out of supporting the retreat,” he said. “And that Eddie is neck-deep in debt. That, added to his knowledge of the secret passages makes him an excellent suspect.”

  “Might I add something?” I’d been surprised to find Dr. Aberstock had been with Crew, though he did tend to keep odd hours, between his regular practice, hospital shifts and his responsibilities at the morgue. Likely he’d seen Crew in his office and had stopped in. Wouldn’t be the first time. “While I know you had Senator Winterton listed as a viable suspect, I’m afraid he would have been unable to generate the kind of force needed to break a full-g
rown man’s neck the way Barry described.”

  I almost smacked myself in the forehead. “Right,” I said. “His wrist issues.” My mind flashed to the wrist wraps and the way he’d grasped my upper arms earlier today. His grip had been gentle, almost soft. Was that due to some kind of damage?

  “Exactly,” Dr. Aberstock said in his cheerful tone. “I’d heard through the grapevine the senator was suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome, so I requested his medical records. Crew came through with a court order. I’m looking at them now. And I can tell you from what I’m seeing, there’s no way a man in his advanced state of degradation could do what was done to end the victim’s life. He’s in need of surgery immediately.”

  “Could he handle a rifle?” He’d gone out to shoot, after all. “Pull a trigger?” But why would he want to kill me?

  “I doubt his wrists would even be strong enough to support a gun,” he said. “Likely, if his reputation precedes him, he was merely going along for sport and show.”

  One off the list, then, despite his excellent motive. “Thanks, Doc,” I said at the exact same time as Jill. We grinned at each other before she spoke again.

  “That leaves Eddie Mauer as our prime suspect,” she said, “though we have, as yet, to talk to Dan Robles about his motive.” I nodded to her as she straightened from leaning on the counter. “Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

  I left with her, knowing if I stayed I’d be tempted to talk to Crew and would then have to listen to him give me a hard time about following the tunnels and my seemingly decreased ability to watch my own back no matter what he had to say about it. Instead, I hustled after her, Bill staying behind with Mom. While I knew it was smart for her to have protection too, I wasn’t sure why his quiet, watchful attention toward my mother made me so uncomfortable.

  Okay, yes, I did. I’d only last summer accused Dad of possibly cheating on Mom surrounding the whole Siobhan Doyle mystery Malcolm Murray dumped in my lap. Right? And with Ryan here and Crew’s disappearance back into FBI undercover life thanks to his old partner… doubts lingered all over the place.

  I did my best to shake off the distraction of such thoughts. Someone was trying to kill me. I really needed to get back to the business at hand. Funny how my brain didn’t seem to care as long as there wasn’t a viable threat standing right in front of me. Silly brain. That lack of a sense of self-preservation was going to get me into more trouble than I could handle one of these days.

  Jill didn’t waste any time after she unlocked Dan’s door, especially when we found him up and glaring at us, like he had some inkling of what might be going on. But, when Jill mentioned the secret tunnels and opened his wardrobe door to prove it, his shock seemed real enough.

  “My father?” He actually snorted when Jill brought up his parent’s troubles and loss of business to Grayson Gallinger. “That’s a matter of public record, yes. But what isn’t? My old man was a bastard, a horrible excuse for a father and a husband. So while that monster might have been overtaken by someone more awful than he was? He got what he deserved.”

  There was enough vitriol and suggestiveness in Dan’s tone and words I found it hard not to believe him. Jill seemed to buy his story, too, even if she wasn’t done.

  “You have the knowledge and the strength to kill someone with your bare hands.” She didn’t ask it like a question, delivering it deadpan, a fact.

  And Dan nodded without hesitation. “I do,” he said, voice dropping to a quiet, pained whisper. “Truth be told, I didn’t leave Frieda because I got a better offer.” He rubbed his face with one hand, callouses of a working man rasping over his salt and pepper scruff. “I’ve been struggling lately. With my conscience.”

  Huh. “You mean about animals? Killing?”

  He nodded, swallowed. “Saw this documentary and it changed a lot.” I knew the one he meant. Some peace-loving film maker made an award-winning show about hunting that was making the rounds on social media. I’d avoided watching it because I didn’t need to. I already opposed hunting for the most part. But it seemed to have had a powerful effect on Dan. He’d broken out into a sweat, face pale, hands shaking as he grasped his thighs like that hold was all the control he had over himself. “I figured if I took this job I’d be doing more tromping through the woods chasing nothing with a bunch of city CEO’s who wouldn’t be able to hit the broad side of a train car let alone actually kill anything.” He shrugged then, licked his lips. “Or be more interested in drinking and talking big than actually going outdoors.”

  Shooting their mouths off instead of shooting animals. Made sense to me.

  We left him for a quick trip to Frieda’s room and when Jill asked her about Dan’s change of heart, she was, shockingly, heartless.

  “That’s what’s gotten into the old fool?” She snorted and rolled her eyes, disdain clear enough I knew Dan’s story was true. A big, tough, old hunter like him relinquishing his favorite past-time and the source of his livelihood on purpose? He had to be telling the truth. To risk that kind of social response in such a small place, Dan Robles wasn’t our murderer. He’d become a pacifist.

  Which meant, as we left Frieda for the last time, Eddie was our prime suspect after all.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty

  By the time morning rolled around, Jill had herself convinced Eddie was the murderer and, though I still hesitated to fully commit, she was the deputy and I just the hired help.

  She did seem surprised when I asked if I could be the one to deliver his breakfast, the rest of the guests quietly devouring Mom’s offerings in the dining room, still under Bill’s watchful attention.

  “You’re sure?” Jill eyed the tray Mom had handed me a moment earlier before disappearing back into the kitchen. “The guy tried to kill you, Fee.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I need to know why. And I think it’s safe enough to ask, right?”

  She grunted her agreement, joining me in his room, glaring at him while he glared back from his seat on the edge of the tub.

  “Can you please uncuff me now?” He shook his arm, the rattle of the metal restraints on the plumbing hard on my ears and the headache I seemed unable to eliminate entirely. Too many nights of not enough sleep.

  “Not just yet,” Jill said. “Fee has some questions for you.” She turned to me, still scowling. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

  I nodded, setting the tray on the edge of the sink Eddie was cuffed to. “He won’t give me any trouble,” I said. “And you have to call Crew.”

  “I’ll be right outside.” She proffered her walkie talkie. “So no funny business.” That was aimed at Eddie and made it sound like he was going to try to kiss me, not kill me. She left then, and I found myself hovering, nervous but angry, by the door. Just in case he did try some business, funny or otherwise.

  “Fee, I swear I didn’t do it.” Eddie didn’t try to reach for his breakfast. Instead, his free hand extended toward me and my insides lurched with agreement. Sheesh, I really had to get a handle on my instincts, especially when they failed me so often.

  “Why did you try to kill me?” I wasn’t going to cut him an inch of slack on this. Not an inch. “What did I do?”

  Eddie sighed, hand traveling through his already messy hair, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t,” he said, voice soft, cracking a little. When he met my eyes again his looked tired. “I don’t know how to prove it, but I swear, I didn’t. To be honest, I always liked you.”

  Huh? “Yeah, you really showed it.” That snapped out of me faster than a gunshot. And, apparently I wasn’t over his betrayal, or Ryan’s.

  Eddie actually winced. “I know,” he said. “I feel terrible about how it all went down, Fee. I never thought Ry was good enough for you. And I knew he was cheating on you. Most of us guys did.” Wow, that was really endearing me to him. “It was wrong. I should have told you. But Ryan was my friend and I had these…” he hesitated before rushing on, “feelings for you that made me wonder if I was betraying him b
ecause I wanted to date you myself.”

  Okay, you could have breathed on me and I’d have fallen over. “What?”

  He laughed, without much humor, sad sounding, really. “And then I turn around and stab you in the back just like the rest of the crew.” Eddie shook his head. “I guess I’m just as bad as Ryan, Fee. So you have no reason to believe me. But I didn’t try to kill you. I was shocked to see you, happy, actually.” That hit like a blow. “Until I heard you’re dating the local sheriff.” That’s right, buster. “I hope he’s a good guy, Fee. That he treats you better than Ryan. Than I did.” Went without saying. So there. “Can you please just talk to that deputy for me?” Eddie’s wheedling tone reminded me enough of Ryan I caught myself frowning and shaking my head before I could stop my reaction. Which made me doubt my instincts even more. I was just too close to this. “She has the wrong guy and the real murderer is still out there. With you.”

  The fear on his face made me pause. And, finally, nod before I turned and left him to his cold breakfast and his thoughts.

  Jill lowered the walkie talkie as I approached, her expression grim. I joined her just as Crew’s voice cut in.

  “Turns out our friend Eddie Mauer has a connection to Reading,” he said. “To the Patterson family. Over.”

  Any kind of sympathy or doubt kind of died off with that statement. I grabbed the hand set from Jill and clicked on. “That’s why he chose this mountain for his business. Over.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking, over.” Crew sounded angry.

  “Could he be working for them?” I wanted to march back into the bathroom and beat Eddie over the head with his tray. “Maybe he tried to kill me as part of their agenda.” Wow, I was really over the topping on this whole Patterson thing, wasn’t I? Jumping at shadows? “Over.”