Born of Corruption

by Teri Brown

  I give her arm a squeeze. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Liv.”

  She waggles her fingers at me and heads upstairs.

  Despondent that my scavenger hunt was cut short, I join Anna and Curt near the staircase. As if sensing my mood, Anna puts her arm around me as Curt finishes a story about a greased pig or something. I laugh politely when he finishes, though I have no idea what he was talking about.

  Anna turns to me. “Curt here is a newspaperman. He was just telling me about his first writing assignment.”

  To my surprise, he reddens and I’m about to ask him what he writes when loud popping noises like firecrackers sound from upstairs.

  I freeze, my guts turning inside out. That’s the second time tonight I’ve heard that sound.

  “What the . . . ?” I turn to run up the stairs, but Al pushes me aside.

  “Stay back,” he orders, his face grim.

  Moments later, a scream rips through the air.

  My pulse explodes in my ears and, ignoring Al’s orders, I race upstairs. Please God, don’t let Jack be hurt.

  I almost sob in relief when I see him standing in front of the library door, a sick look on his face. Al elbows his way into the room, while I throw my arms around Jack. “What is it? What happened?” I ask for the second time that evening. Jack tries to stop me from looking in the library, but I push him aside. Olivia is kneeling next to something that looks like a body. Her hand is covering her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.

  My eyes drop and I see who’s lying facedown next to her.

  Reggie. An ever-widening pool of blood soaks into the Persian carpet. Al rushes over to him, but even I can see that it’s no use. Reggie’s sporting three neat holes in the back of his jacket, and even though I can only see the profile of his face, his skin is pale and waxy. I stare until the room tilts sideways. If it weren’t for Jack’s sturdy arms, I surely would have fallen. A few inches from Reggie’s hand is a shot glass. He must have come up here for a drink of the good stuff Jack keeps in the cabinet. My stomach tightens as I remember the fortune-teller’s warning.

  Anna gasps from behind me, and I feel her shock as she moves through the doorway into the room. Her face glows ghostly white in the light and I wonder if she’s going to be sick. Then it hits me.

  Her vision.

  I turn to look back down at Reggie lying in the pool of blood.

  Just as Anna had described.

  My head snaps up as the reality hits me. Reggie isn’t just dead.

  Someone killed him.

  The thought hits Al at about the same time and he turns, his gun drawn. “Nobody move. Olivia, go lock the doors. I want everyone in here right away.”

  Snapping out of her trance, Olivia hops up and hurries out the door.

  Jack, Anna, Curt, and I stare at Reggie. The horror gripping my chest is mirrored on their faces. We’d spent the entire evening laughing and joking and teasing him. Now he’s dead. Death has left him looking even younger than his seventeen years. His mother is going to be destroyed.

  Jack turns away, visibly shaken. “Who did this? He’s just a kid!”

  Anna shakes her head, one hand clapped over her mouth.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Nico appears in the doorway and takes in the scene in a single glance. Spotting Al with his gun drawn, he does what any good gangster would do: He holds his hands out to show Al that he’s unarmed.

  He nods toward Reggie. “Who’s the stiff?” he asks.

  “A friend,” I snap. “A friend who was murdered. Where have you been hiding yourself?”

  Nico shrugs. “The bathroom. And I’d be very careful of what I’d say if I were you. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

  Next to me, Jack glowers. “This is her house; she doesn’t have to watch what she says.”

  Nico gives Jack a withering glance and Jack glares back. Animosity whirls between them.

  What is going on? How do they even know each other?

  Olivia rejoins us.

  “Did you lock the house?” Al asks.

  Olivia nods.

  “Is there anyone else here besides us?”

  “Mrs. Spetford is still passed out in the guest bedroom. I told Parker to act as a doorman and to tell everyone else who comes back from the scavenger hunt that Mrs. Gaylord is ill and the party’s over.”

  “Good thinking,” I tell her.

  She stares down at Reggie, her eyes wide and her mouth clamped shut as if she’s trying not to be sick.

  I know exactly how she feels.

  “Is everyone accounted for?” Al asks.

  I look around and start to nod when it hits me. “Eugenia. Eugenia is missing.”

  “You don’t think . . .” Al’s voice trails off.

  Jack shakes his head. “No. She prefers to shoot off at the mouth. She wouldn’t know what to do with a real gun.”

  A small, inappropriate sense of pride rises in my chest before I shake my head.

  Al looks down at the three holes centered just so in Reggie’s back. They look like they were put there by someone who’s done some target practice. Whoever shot Reggie knew their way around a gun.

  “We should call the police,” Curt suggests, but both Al and I dismiss his suggestion with a look.

  Call the police before we have our stories straight?

  Olivia whimpers, and Nico reaches out and pats her shoulder—a comforting gesture so out of character that my jaw drops.

  Anna steps to my side, her cool, slim presence calming me immediately. “We should look for Eugenia, but first”—I take a deep breath—“we should establish where everyone was when the shots were fired.”

  Olivia’s eyes widen. “You think it was someone in this room?”

  I clear my throat. “I didn’t say that.”

  “She’s right. The police are going to want to know anyway,” Jack says, his voice weary.

  Nico shrugs. “I already told you. I was in the bathroom.”

  “Anna, Curt, and I were together. Al was in the foyer.”

  “I was with Mrs. Spetford when I heard the shots,” Olivia said. “Of course, she’s still passed out, so she can’t vouch for me.”

  I swallow. Three people don’t have an alibi.

  Including Jack.

  I take another breath and try to focus. “We have to go find Eugenia, but no one goes alone. The house has five floors plus a basement.” I look at Jack for confirmation. We do have a basement, right? He nods. “We should split up into pairs.”

  Nico steps forward. “I’ll check out the first couple of floors.”

  I glance at him suspiciously. It’s not like Nico to act all helpful. “No. Anna and I will check out the basement.” I want to get Anna alone. Maybe she senses something that the rest of us don’t. Hell, maybe Reggie can tell her himself who the murderer is. And the basement has to be safer than the roof.

  “I’m going with you,” Jack says.

  Al shakes his head. “No. I go with Miss Cynthia.”

  Jack glares for a moment and then relents, realizing that I’m probably safer with Al than anyone.

  Nico shrugs. “Someone who knows the house should be a part of each group.”

  I want to smack him for making sense. “Jack, why don’t you and Curt take upstairs, and Nico and Olivia can take the middle floors. Al, Anna, and I will take the first floor and basement.”

  “We should probably hurry,” Anna says, her forehead creased.

  Nico lights a cigarette, the flame of the lighter reflected in his snakelike eyes. “Yeah. The longer we delay, the more danger the dame could be in. And who knows? We could be letting the murderer slip through our fingers.”

  Jack’s hands ball into fists. “Eugenia is many things, but she isn’t a murderer.”

  I turn to the others, irrationally annoyed by my husband’s defense of a woman I detest. “Why don’t we meet back here in about fifteen minutes? Open every closet and look under every bed.”<
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  Olivia nods and the others pair up.

  Jack opens his arms for a hug. Swallowing back my irritation, I press myself against him, seeking the reassurance of his presence. As I do, my hand comes into contact with the outline of something cold and hard in the inside pocket of his jacket. I freeze when I realize what it is.

  A gun.

  He gives me a quick squeeze, then moves out the door. I stand for a moment, my stomach swirling, everything I know to be true in my life altering.

  Why would Jack have a gun?

  “Cyn?” Anna’s voice is questioning and I realize that everyone else has left the room. She and Al are waiting by the door. I swallow, disoriented for a moment, then file Jack’s gun away for later. We need to find Eugenia. I don’t like her—in fact, I hate her—but I don’t want her hurt.

  I give a last look in the library before following Al and Anna. It seems wrong to leave Reggie lying on the floor in the library, but I figure he won’t mind.

  We go through the lounge and into a sparkling white kitchen that I think I’ve seen exactly twice. Hard to believe the chaos that must have transpired here just a few hours ago, the way everything gleams now.

  I reach out and catch Anna’s sleeve. “Your vision . . .”

  She stops and presses her hands together.

  “Do you remember anything from your vision that we may have missed? Any clue?”

  She shakes her head. “It was exactly the way you saw it. She bites her lip. “It always is.”

  I close my eyes for a minute and then nod. It hits me just how horrible it would be to see someone’s death and not be able to do anything about it.

  “Miss Cynthia.” Al beckons and we hurry to catch up.

  He draws his Colt 45 and slowly opens the door. My nerves snap like rubber bands as he flicks a switch on the wall. The stairway is festooned with spiderwebs. I stare at them, horrified. A dank, bone-chilling cold sweeps through the open door and I shiver, wishing I had my coat. “I guess no one comes down here much.”

  Al starts down the rickety wooden stairs and then halts so abruptly I almost fall over him. “Get back,” he orders.

  “Why?” Like the idiot I am, I crane my neck to look over his shoulders and suck in my breath.

  Eugenia is lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the staircase.

  I start to push past Al, but he holds out an arm.

  “Get back in the kitchen.”

  His voice is deadly quiet and he stares me down. I move back into the kitchen. Fast.

  The room spins around me as my mind reels from shock. Eugenia, a girl I’d known and hated for so long, was dead. We’d failed Miss Pillar’s algebra class together, for crying out loud. How could this have happened?

  My hands fall to my sides and Anna turns away from the door, not wanting to see whatever it is Al found. I watch from the top as Al hurries down the staircase and into the basement. I swallow, staring at Eugenia’s broken body. Did she fall down the stairs? If so, what was she going to our basement for? Meeting someone? Who?

  I see Al checking for Eugenia’s pulse. He shakes his head and hurries up the steps and into the kitchen. “She’s dead. The doors and windows are all secure.”

  “What do you think happened?” Anna asks softly, staring at the body.

  Al shuts the basement door firmly.

  “She could have fallen—or been pushed,” he said.

  “Who could have done this?” Anna asks.

  I can tell she’s spooked and reach for her hand. “You have no idea what happened?”

  Her lips tremble. “If I could tell you, don’t you think I would?”

  Al gives us both a funny look and says, “I need to make a telephone call. You two stay here.”

  “Shouldn’t we tell the others?” Anna asks.

  He shakes his head. “Not yet. Stay put.”

  Al slips out of the room and I turn to Anna. “Are you sure you haven’t had any more visions?”

  She shakes her head, her face miserable. “Just because I saw Reggie die before I even knew him doesn’t mean I know who did it.”

  Her voice quavers and I’m immediately contrite for pushing her. “I’m sorry, but I have two dead people in my house! I don’t know what to think.”

  “I know.” She squeezes my hand.

  I draw in a shuddering breath. “Who could it have been? Do you think it could have been Nico?”

  “It’s a possibility. Nico says he was in the bathroom. He could have been anywhere. Hiding.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Anna shakes her head as though she doesn’t trust him either.

  Al comes back in, his face grave. “That was interesting,” he says. I wait, knowing there’s more.

  “Your uncle put extra men in the neighborhood to watch the place tonight. I just went out and spoke to a couple of them. No one has been seen coming out of the house since shots were fired. Which means the killer is still inside.”

  Anna and I look at each other, and I know the fear on her face is reflected in mine.

  “But why? Why would someone kill Reggie? Or Eugenia?”

  Well, I can see why someone would want to murder Eugenia, but poor Reggie never did anyone any harm. “Maybe someone saw something,” I say. “Maybe one of them was the target and one was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  Anna bites her lip, thinking. “The question is, which one.”

  “Or maybe it’s a case of mistaken identity.” Al gives Anna a pointed look.

  “Me? Why would anyone want to kill me?” She looks away and I know she’s lying.

  I look from Al to Anna, confused. Anna has enemies? Then I remember that Anna was recently kidnapped and shot.

  Anna stares at Al, who finally shrugs. “It’s my job to know everything about everyone who comes in contact with Miss Cynthia. Boss’s orders.”

  “Mrs. Cynthia,” I murmur, but he ignores me. I shake my head. Anna is one of the sweetest people I know. How could she have enemies?

  I rub my temples. As much as I hate it, we should bring in the police. “Go call the cops,” I order. “But call Uncle Arnie first. He needs to know what’s going on.”

  Al gives me a crooked smile. “I already did.”

  As we follow him out of the kitchen, I turn to Anna. “Why would anyone want to hurt you?” I whisper. “And don’t leave anything out. I’ll know if you do.”

  She gives me a weak smile. “What? Are you psychic now?”

  “Yeah, so give it to me straight. And hurry, we need to tell the others that we found”—I swallow before saying her name—“Eugenia.”

  We stand in the foyer as Al telephones the police from the study. Anna looks down as if trying to decide how much to tell me. I understand. I have secrets too, and Anna’s never been one to share things easily. I wait.

  “Let’s just say that I live a complicated life and leave it at that, all right? I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened here.”

  Her voice is pleading and I relent. We all have things we don’t want to share.

  I go on. “I don’t think Nico would have mistaken you for Eugenia anyway. Other than the dark hair, you two look nothing alike.”

  “Could it have something to do with your uncle?” she asks.

  I look up. “Maybe. But nothing has ever happened before and, trust me, he’s been through some pretty dangerous things. Most everyone knows that I’m off-limits.”

  “If you’re so off-limits, why do you have a bodyguard and why are there people posted around your house?”

  She has a point, but before I can say anything, Al rejoins us.

  His face is shuttered and I suddenly wonder if he’d heard what we were talking about.

  “My bet is on Nico,” I say quickly. “Just the fact that he’s here makes me suspicious.”

  “Maybe,” Al says. “Or maybe something else is going on. This wasn’t the first time shots were fired tonight. Remember what happened at the Cotton Club.”

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sp; I suck in my breath. “Do you think the two incidents are related?”

  “It’s possible. I’m going to go get the others,” Al says. “You two wait here. Don’t let anyone into the house but the police.”

  As soon as he’s gone, I turn to Anna. “I don’t have much time. Jack has a gun. I know he’s been up to something, but I don’t know what it is. I do know that he isn’t a murderer.”

  Her eyes widen. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Fear and panic beat in my chest. “Because I feel like something horrible is going to happen.”

  “Something worse than what has already happened?” she asks.

  I nod, wrapping my arms around myself.

  Her forehead furrows like she’s trying to figure something out. “So Reggie, Eugenia, Jack, Nico, and Olivia are the ones who aren’t accounted for, right?”

  I shiver. “And two of them aren’t talking.” I hug myself tighter, feeling like I have to keep myself in check or I’ll erupt all over the place. Images of shots fired in front of the Cotton Club, the fortune-teller, Reggie in a pool of blood, and Eugenia lying at the bottom of the stairs keep flashing in front of my eyes. Even the spiderwebs in the doorway . . . I suck in a breath, my mind whirling.

  “Come with me,” I tell Anna. “Quick, before everyone comes back down.” I hurry to the kitchen with Anna on my heels.

  “What are we doing?”

  I stop in front of the door leading to the basement, unsure whether this is a good idea or not. Then I shrug. What could possibly happen that hasn’t already happened? I open the door and flick on the light switch. Like before, a deadly cold sweeps over my skin. Eugenia is still lying motionless at the bottom of the staircase, her neck cocked at a funny angle, but I didn’t come back to look at her. Instead, I lean forward and examine the drapery of spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling. Apparently my staff never comes down here either, because the webs are thick and almost undamaged.

  Heart pounding, I stare at the silvery strands, trying to remember what they looked like before Al went downstairs.

  “What are we looking for?” Anna whispers.

  My hand is shaking as I point at the spiderwebs. “She didn’t fall and she wasn’t pushed. The only person who has walked through those was Al. Remember how he kind of bent his head to avoid them? They were intact.”