by Anna Gerard
Midway through the process, Mattie jumped up and started barking, which likely meant the auto club guy had arrived. At the end of the hour, I checked in with the sisters. They’d finished their prayers and were gathered around Sister Mary George, who was on her cell phone.
“Chinese food night,” Mother Superior reminded me in a stage whisper, her expression uncharacteristically excited. “May we order something for you? Our treat, of course.”
Still feeling the calories from my morning ice cream indulgence, I settled on an order of spring rolls. Then, leaving the nuns to their ordering, I went to check on Harry’s progress.
I found him in the kitchen leaning against the counter drinking tea from a generic mug and looking rather pleased with himself.
“We got the bus running,” he explained, “and I switched it so that it’s backed in. That way, I could park closer to the edge of the driveway so you have more room. Plus, now it’s harder to see the bus from the street.”
“Good thinking,” I agreed. Maybe he’d taken my possible sighting of Lana more seriously than he’d let on.
Then, glancing at his watch, he added, “Say, do you know if the sisters have called in that Chinese food order yet? I want to change my order from General Tso’s Chicken to Moo Goo Gai Pan.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning, the sisters were up even earlier than usual for their morning prayers. I’d barely had time to shower and pull on jeans and an oversized white cotton knit top before they had gathered in the dining room.
Jasmine arrived at seven with breakfast, accompanied again by her red-haired boyfriend. Once the pair had brought everything in and then headed back to the coffee shop on their bikes, Mother Superior took me aside.
“Nina, no need to go to all the trouble of setting a lovely table this morning. The mayor will be here at eight to drive us out to the convent. So we shall, as they say, be eating and running. But perhaps we can take some leftovers with us for our luncheon? I’m sure with all the cleaning and straightening that we’ll have an appetite.”
“Certainly, Reverend Mother. And I’ve got a soft-sided cooler you can use. Why don’t I ice down some bottles of water and soda for you?”
While I took care of the drinks, the nuns made quick work of breakfast. In preparation for their day back at the convent, they were wearing their shorter gray work habits. Their excitement level was high as well. Anticipation at returning to their old home, I wondered with a smile, or maybe just a residual MSG high from last night’s Chinese takeout feast?
Recalling my promise to Harry, I put aside a full plate for the two of us and then helped Sister Mary Christopher pack the rest of the food for travel. We were gathered on the front porch ready for action when Melissa Jane and her oversized gray SUV rolling up to the front gate at eight sharp.
“Morning, Reverend Mother … Sisters. Oh, and you, too, Nina,” she greeted us from the open front passenger’s side window as we marched down the walk toward her.
By the time we reached the vehicle, Melissa Jane—dressed today in a perky green-and-white-striped skirted suit—had climbed out and slid open the cargo door. I helped her load nuns and food safely inside. Then, as she closed the door, she reminded me, “The electricity and water are still on at the convent, but there’s no phone service. Sister Mary George has a cell phone, so they have a way to call if they need anything before five when I pick them up again. But just in case I’m with a client, maybe you can keep your phone handy?”
“Of course,” I assured her.
“Perfect. You have a great day, you hear?”
She paused as she opened the door and added, “Oh, and Nina … about that bus in your driveway. I don’t know where you found it, but the town does have an ordinance about commercial vehicles being parked in residential neighborhoods longer than overnight. I’ll look the other way for now, but as soon as someone complains, you’re going to need to move it.”
“Gotcha!” I agreed with an equally cheery nod.
I waved the group off and headed back inside, letting the fake cheery act drop. So much for the heap not being visible from the street. On the bright side, it was good of Melissa Jane to let me off the hook as far as the ordinance. But the fact that she’d noticed it meant that if Lana really was trolling the streets searching for Harry, she was bound to spy the telltale bus sooner or later.
For the moment, however, I was more concerned with our little sting operation with Jack later today. I let Mattie out and had my share of the saved breakfast. Harry still hadn’t dragged himself downstairs by the time I finished, so I washed my plate and then went in search of him … which meant going upstairs and yelling up the ladder stairs.
“Harry! Rise and shine! Pat the pine! Daylight’s burning,” I called, drawing on the old chestnuts my dad had used to roust my siblings and me out of bed when we were kids. Then, in case that wasn’t sufficient, I added, “I saved you some breakfast … cobbler and egg puffs.”
That last seemed to work, for I heard some thumps and shuffling. Then Harry peered over the railing. I pretended not to notice that he was shirtless and showing off a nicely tanned chest and toned abs. With those sleepy blue eyes, he looked a bit too much like a rumpled Ralph Lauren model for comfort.
“I thought guests were exempted from being rousted out of bed at ungodly hours,” he complained in a huskier-than-usual voice.
I shrugged. “It’s after eight. You were up earlier than that yesterday. Besides, we need to work out how we’re going to do our spy operation with Jack.”
I could have reminded him of our agreement that he was a renter and not a guest, but we both knew that was the case.
“Fine,” he replied. “Give me fifteen minutes to take a shower, and I’ll be downstairs.”
He was downstairs in the agreed-upon quarter hour, wearing jeans and an orange-and-white Hawaiian-print shirt with the logo of a well-known surf shop discreetly embroidered on its pocket. He grabbed the plate I’d left on the stovetop warmer element. Not bothering with the dining room, he leaned against the kitchen island and began chowing down.
“We’re going to have to get an easier system for calling up to the tower room,” I told him. “Maybe I can find an old bell pull and install it for you.”
“Sure,” he mumbled through a mouthful of egg puff, “or you could try that newfangled thing known as the smartphone and just call me to say you want to come up. So, what’s the plan for this afternoon? I’m assuming all you care about is if he goes looking in the tower room closet, right?”
I nodded. “Why don’t we do a test run? You find yourself a hiding place up there, and I’ll poke around in the closet and see if I if notice you spying on me.”
A few minutes later, Harry had finished breakfast and gone back upstairs. I gave him a few minutes’ head start while I hand-washed the remaining dishes, and then followed.
He’d closed the tower room door so that it faded seamlessly into the rest of the hall paneling, just as we’d leave it for Jack. I opened it and tugged the light cord. Once upstairs, I looked around.
Harry had pulled the curtains so the place was bathed in dim light. Since the curtains were sheer, it was obvious he wasn’t hiding behind them. Which meant he had to be in the closet, though of course Jack would have no reason to suspect that.
I opened the closet door, steeling myself in case Harry decided to prank me and jump out with a bloodcurdling yell. He didn’t, though I saw he’d rearranged the hanging clothes so that shirts were front and center, leaving the closet floor conveniently exposed. Trying to play it like Jack likely would, I parted the row of shirts down the middle and shoved them to either side, revealing the blank wall behind and a shoe-covered floor. I knelt and moved the shoes away from the removable section, glancing side to side as I did so. Still no Harry.
“So,” I said aloud, and stuck a finger into the knothole, “I wonder if that creepy old skull I hid here is still where I left it. Let me check.”
I pulle
d up the section of flooring, confirmed the space below was still empty, and settled the floorboards back into place. Then, moving shoes and hanging shirts back where they’d been, I backed out into the room again.
“Harry,” I called, “I’m finished looking. Where are you?”
“Right here,” came a muffled voice.
“Wait, what?”
I reach back inside the closet again and began shoving aside clothes. Nothing on the one side, but on the opposite I struck pay dirt.
“Pretty clever,” I said in unfeigned admiration.
Harry had changed into an oversized flannel shirt and baggy jeans and then positioned himself sideways behind a section of hanging clothes. The apparel in question had been arranged to put both a shirt and long pants on a single hanger, resulting in what looked like a series of flattened scarecrows dangling from the clothes rod. Standing behind them, Harry blended right in.
He extricated himself and rejoined me in the room, holding out his cell phone. “I took a video of you. Let’s see how it turned out.”
Despite being in the closet, there was enough ambient light that I could make out a figure that obviously was me kneeling and opening the secret hiding place. And my voice was more than recognizable, too. While it might not stand up in a court of law, chances were any video would be sufficient to produce a confession.
“Perfect,” I told him. “I’ll set up the key behind the screen door and take off a little before two. Do you think an hour is enough time to give him?”
“An hour should be plenty. I’m guessing first thing he’ll do is head for the closet. Once he sees the skull is missing, I’m betting he’s right back out the door again.”
Unspoken was a different scenario … the one with Jack discovering Harry hiding in the closet recording the incriminating video, and the resulting unpleasantness. But given that I hadn’t spotted Harry, chances were the ice cream shop owner wouldn’t either. Besides, Harry could take care of himself. Hadn’t his bio said he had a black belt in some martial art or another?
I spent the remainder of the morning working on my B&B business plan. First on the list was arm-twisting Melissa Jane into adding me to the Chamber’s website’s list of links. And maybe I could convince some of the town’s other B&B owners to do a little co-op advertising, too.
Busy as I was with this, it was well after one when I finally broke for a quick lunch—more egg puffs—and then rounded up Mattie.
“Key’s set,” I called up the ladder stairs to Harry, who’d been hanging in his room doing whatever it was that he did in his spare time. “It’s almost two, so be listening for Jack.”
I got a careless “Yeah, yeah, under control” drifting down from the tower room. Crossing virtual fingers that no one would screw up, I whistled for Mattie and went out the kitchen door. I loaded her into the Mini, and we squeezed out of the drive without incident.
“Let’s go to the pet store,” I told the pup, giving her a reassuring look in the rearview mirror before I steered us to the south side of town toward the mall.
The next hour passed with excruciating slowness. While I cruised the pet store aisle for a new doggy bandana to keep up the grooming ruse, I kept my phone handy so I didn’t miss any communication from Harry. Good news: the screen remained blank with no frantic calls for help. Bad news: said blank screen didn’t let me know what in the heck was going on.
By the time an hour passed, I was already in the Mini prepared to head back when a text from the actor popped up.
ALL CLEAR.
“A little more detail would have been nice,” I muttered to the Aussie, who gave a soft woof of agreement. Not that she objected to this unexpected afternoon out, particularly since it had resulted in a slider, meat and cheese only, on the way to the mall. That in addition to her new bright-red bandana.
K was my equally brief text back. Much as I wanted to call and pull more information out of the guy, I didn’t want to risk it in case Jack was still in the house and might hear the ring.
Breaking only a couple of Cymbeline’s speed-limit laws on the way back, I pulled into my drive about fifteen minutes later. No strange cars were parked in front, which meant Jack must have already left. And I found my door key propped between screen and front door, just like I’d instructed him to leave it. Even so, I let Mattie proceed me into the house, in case her howling and jumping skills were needed.
I found Harry in the kitchen in the process of making tea. He’d changed out of the lumberjack shirt and pants and was back in the same Hawaiian shirt and jeans from that morning.
“Well?” I demanded.
Harry shrugged. “Nada. Zip. Zilch. Not only did Jack not dig through the closet looking for the secret hiding spot, he never even came up to the tower room. I could hear him moving around downstairs, opening doors and rattling things, but he never tried the panel. I think maybe you were wrong about him being the skull’s owner.”
“What do you mean, you? I thought we agreed it had to be Jack.”
“Fine. We were wrong.”
“Great,” I muttered, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I can’t believe we wasted a couple of hours on this. So we’re back to square one. What do we do next?”
After a moment’s silence, Harry replied, “You know, whoever put the skull up there could be long gone. Maybe they deliberately forgot about it … or maybe it was one of those out of sight, out of mind things. The skull might have lain around there forever if I hadn’t twisted your arm into letting me stay up there.”
“Well, that’s a comforting thought,” I said with a snort.
Though, in a way, it was. While I doubted any normal person could forget they had stashed a skull somewhere, I preferred that scenario to worrying someone might decide one day they wanted their skull back. But at least now I knew to turn a questioning eye on anyone who asked to go up there alone.
“All right, let’s say we stick a fork in this one,” I decided. “Good old McCoy is Sheriff Lamb’s problem from here on out.”
Barely had I made that decision when my cell phone rang. I took a look at the caller ID. No one’s number I recognized, but since it was a local area code, I took the call. “This is Nina.”
“Hi, uh, Nina,” came a man’s vaguely familiar voice. “This is Jack, uh, Jack Hill.”
It’s Jack, I mouthed in exaggerated fashion, and pointed at the phone. Aloud, I said, “Hi, how’s it going? I just got back home. Obviously, it didn’t take you that long.”
“Don’t worry, I gave the place a good looking over. But I wanted to report right back to you. About those things I told you that I let Mrs. Lathrop know needed repairing …”
He hesitated, and I waited for him to quote some absurd price for nonexistent work. Instead he said, “I guess she must have had someone else fix it after I gave her my price, because everything looks fine now. I mean, there are a few things that could be tweaked, but nothing big. So I don’t need to write up a quote after all.”
“That’s great … I mean, for me,” I replied.
Apparently, not only was the guy not an antiquities thief, but he was an honest contractor, too. Feeling guilty knowing I’d completely misjudged him, I went on, “But look, Jack, I do have some other projects I’m thinking about having done. Maybe I can drop by next week and talk about it.”
“Sure,” he replied, though he sounded rather less enthusiastic than I would have expected.
When he didn’t say anything further, I prompted him, “So, is that all?”
“Not exactly.” He paused again, and I could hear him breathing. Finally, he said, “While I was there, I noticed an old bus parked in your driveway. It belongs to Harry Westcott, doesn’t it?”
So much for hidden from the street. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but since Jack had established himself as trustworthy, I decided to take a leap of faith.
I glanced over at Harry, who was drinking his tea and looking lost in thought. Taking a few casual steps away from him
, I lowered my voice. “Yes, it does. Why?”
“Look, Nina, none of this is my business. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But as a neighbor, I thought I should give you a heads-up. If you’re letting Harry stay there at the house … well, you might want to rethink that.”
Alarm bells began going off in my head. I took a few more steps away as I asked, “Why, what do you mean?”
“I’m not saying he’s dangerous or anything. Well, not as far as I know. It’s just that he’s a little, well, off. I mean, the first day on the job, he told me—”
He broke off abruptly as I waited in dismay for what he was going to say, only to continue, “Sorry, Jill just walked in. Gotta go. But rethink letting him stay there, you hear?”
Since he was on a cell phone, there wasn’t a click and dial tone that followed … just silence. Except for the frustrated voice in my head yelling, Told you what?
“Everything okay?”
This from Harry, who had roused from his reverie long enough to notice I wasn’t talking anymore. Hoping I could manage half as good a poker face as his, I set my phone on the counter and nodded.
“Yeah, fine. Jack wanted to let me know that your aunt apparently had someone else fix those things he had told me needed fixing. She must have gotten a better price or something.”
“Pretty long conversation just to say that.”
“Oh, you know. He tossed in a sales pitch for why he’d be the best guy to do the work next time around.”
“That’s Jack for you.” He finished off his tea in a final gulp and gave the mug a quick rinse under the faucet. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’ve got things to do upstairs.”
“Right, and I’ve got more paperwork.”
I smiled, hoping that my sudden nervousness wasn’t obvious. Just when I’d begun to lower my guard around Harry, Jack made it seem that I’d been too quick to trust the man.