The Gun Also Rises

by Sherry Harris

  I snooped, opening drawers, looking under the bed, and going through the pockets of clothes hanging in the closet. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. A diary, or flash drive, or signed confession. But I didn’t find anything remotely suspicious. Maybe the police had already found whatever it was I thought I was looking for.

  I went over to the telescope, peering through it. Everything was a blur. It took me a few minutes to adjust a bunch of dials to bring my view into focus. It was pointed toward the woods. I could see police tape and thought how ironic it was that the telescope was pointed at the very spot where I’d found Kay’s body. Why? Had she been planning to meet someone there or was it just a coincidence? The answer to that had died with Kay.

  From up here in the attic I could see the woods were narrower than I’d realized when I was in the thick of them. On the other side lay a fairly busy road. There was a police car parked on the shoulder of the road and some sort of utility van. I wondered if that was crime scene people from the state police.

  I returned my focus to the woods. I scanned back and forth with the telescope, hoping to spot the overnight case sitting out in plain sight. But the density that had protected me earlier today now blocked my view of anything helpful. Or did it?

  Chapter Eight

  On the last pass, I glimpsed something in a small clearing that didn’t look as if it belonged in the woods. I twisted the knobs and made everything blurrier as I madly tried to swing the telescope back to the black blob I’d thought I’d seen in my last sweep. Modern electronics had spoiled me with their ability to autofocus. I finally got things somewhat focused and moved the telescope slowly inch over inch of woods. It seemed painfully tedious when my heart was racing because I thought the black blob might actually have been the overnight case. Cast aside, lying in the mud.

  But there, there was something out there, though it was too blurry for me to know for sure what it was. Screw it. I didn’t have the patience to use all the knobs on the telescope. I charged down the stairs and patted the back pocket of my shorts to make sure I had my phone. Once again, I ran out of the house and across the broad lawn. I stopped for a moment. Looking down from three stories was a lot easier than being on eye level. I glanced back at the third-floor window and tried to picture an imaginary line from the end of the telescope that glinted in the window to a spot in the woods where I thought I’d seen the case. The telescope had been angled to the right, away from where I’d found Kay’s body. I walked along the edge of the woods, tracking the angle of the telescope. It was tedious—take a few steps, look toward the house, a few more steps, double-check the house—but I did it until I came to a small path.

  Kay must have known it was here and entered the woods at this spot, unlike the place I’d plunged through earlier. I took one last look at the telescope and felt fairly confident if I entered here, then headed right again, I’d find the overnight case. But as I eased into the shadowy woods, I worried that maybe I’d gotten it all wrong. Why would Kay leave the overnight case in one direction and then end up in the opposite? Maybe because someone besides me had been chasing her? Someone she didn’t trust entirely.

  I took out my phone and called Pellner. Yes, I had him on speed dial. It just seemed easier these days. He might still be in the vicinity, or know that someone else was. For all I knew, they were still over by where Kay’s body had been, searching for clues.

  “I might have spotted the overnight case in the woods,” I told Pellner when he answered.

  “How?” he asked.

  “There was a telescope in Kay’s room. I used it.”

  I heard Pellner sigh.

  “I’m not going to ask what you were doing in there because I know. You were snooping.”

  “Maybe it isn’t clear to you how important those papers are.”

  I heard another sigh.

  “I get it. I’ll come back to the house so you can show me.”

  “I’m not exactly at the house.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the woods. Heading for the spot where I think the case is.”

  “What? Someone shot at you.”

  “I know, but I saw a police car parked alongside the road when I was looking through the telescope.”

  “Get out of there. Back to the house.”

  I reached a bend in the narrow path. “I’m almost to where I think the case is.” I held the phone away from my ear as Pellner swore. After a moment, I listened again. “Pellner?”

  “Sarah. Don’t do that. When you didn’t answer, I thought something awful had happened. I’m on my way over there and have called for backup.” Through the phone, I could hear his siren come on. “And don’t hang up either.”

  “I won’t. I called you, didn’t I?” The path curved again. I couldn’t see the house any longer, so I slowed to search for the case. I slapped at a mosquito that landed on my neck.

  “What was that?” Pellner asked.

  “Just a mosquito.” I didn’t tell him to calm down because little made me madder than someone saying that to me.

  Ahead of me, there was a lot of rustling in the woods, which I reported to Pellner. “It’s probably a tiny bird or squirrel. It’s kind of dry out here. One time a tiny bird flew out of a bunch of leaves and made such a ruckus, I thought I was going to be attacked by a bear.”

  “Or maybe it’s whoever took a shot at you earlier.”

  Now I could hear a siren through the phone and air. “I guess that’s possible. Although with all the police around, you wouldn’t think they’d come back right away.”

  “Given the value of what’s in the case and the fact that it looks as if they already killed someone for it, it seems like a distinct possibility to me. You didn’t wait around.”

  “But I’m not a bad guy who’s afraid of the police. I called the police.”

  “Maybe you don’t get how bad guys work.”

  I rounded a corner just as someone burst out of the woods about fifty feet ahead of me. Overnight case in hand. I gasped and almost dropped the phone. The person ran straight ahead and hadn’t even noticed me. I started running too.

  “What? What?” I heard Pellner yelling from the phone.

  “Someone has the case. They burst out of the woods like a lighted bottle rocket.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Chasing him.” I knew my voice sounded incredulous.

  “Stop. Run the other direction.”

  I ran around a bend. I could see the man ahead of me on a wider path, one that ended at a road with a few cars whizzing by. I pushed myself forward. A black sedan was parked on the shoulder. The man leaped in the driver’s side. The car screeched off. Gravel spurted up as I got to the road, which forced me to turn my back.

  “Damn it. He got away,” I said. I took a good look around. “I think I’m on Nutley Road.” My voice panted between words. “Black sedan, Massachusetts plates, heading toward Bedford.”

  “License plate number?” Pellner yelled. I heard a siren.

  I shook my head, then remembered Pellner couldn’t see me. “I didn’t get it. Maybe a six at the end.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I’m not sure. He was far away. Pants. Maybe jeans. And a Tshirt. I didn’t get a glimpse of his face. Pick me up.”

  A few moments later, Pellner approached. I stood on the shoulder, flagging him down. He roared past me.

  “Hey, what about me?”

  “I’m in pursuit.” Then he hung up.

  * * *

  I kicked at a rock and stubbed my toe. I bent over to rub it as I heard a car slow. I glanced over and noticed an SUV. Its right-turn signal came on and it pulled over on the shoulder behind me.

  “Need a ride?” Ryne O’Rourke, my next-door neighbor and friend, poked his ridiculously good-looking head out of the window of his red SUV.

  I dashed over to the car, yanked the passenger-side door open, and hopped in. “Go, go, go.” I pointed in the direction the car and Pell
ner had taken.

  Ryne gunned it without asking questions. And soon we were flying down the road past Nutley Lake in Bedford. There was no sign of Pellner or the black sedan. Hopefully, Pellner had it in his sights. I turned one of the air-conditioning vents on me. I was a sweaty mess for the second time this morning.

  “Want to tell me what we’re looking for?”

  “A black four-door sedan, Massachusetts plates, possibly ending with a six.”

  “And why exactly are we pursuing it?”

  Just as I opened my mouth to answer him, I spotted the car. Heading toward us. I jabbed my finger at it before I could get the words to come. “There it is. He must have pulled in a driveway or something because Pellner didn’t see him.”

  The car whizzed by us, but I couldn’t make out who was driving or if anyone else was in the car. I turned in my seat, but a jumble of chairs in the back seat blocked my view, so I didn’t see the car. “Turn, turn. Go back.”

  Ryne signaled, pulled into a drive, and reversed directions. “Hurry,” I said.

  “Why? Hot date escaping? You looked like you tangled with someone recently.”

  “Rough morning.” Ugh, I’d forgotten the scratches from earlier. Ryne could drive me nuts at times. He’d moved here a few months ago to help his uncle with his antique store in Concord, which probably explained the chairs in the back of the SUV. Ryne was extremely popular with the ladies, with his dark hair, green eyes, and occasional Irish accent. I heard lots of laughter and jazz music coming through the thin walls between our apartments. But at least he sped up.

  “You seemed to have had quite a few rough mornings since we’ve been neighbors.”

  “Yeah, but not the good kind.”

  Ryne laughed.

  I called Pellner. “The car just passed us going the other way. I’m with my neighbor, Ryne O’Rourke. We’re heading west on Nutley.”

  Pellner blew out a snort of exasperated air. “I’m calling it in. You two knuckleheads stop trying to pursue them.”

  I hung up. If there was any chance we could find that car, I wasn’t about to stop.

  “You have the police chasing down dates for you?”

  “As if.”

  A few minutes later, Ryne pulled over as Pellner flew by us, lights flashing and siren screaming. Pellner’s car disappeared over a hill as Ryne got back on the road.

  “Can you go any faster?” I asked. My foot smashed down on the floorboard like there was some imaginary accelerator I could use to make Ryne speed up.

  “I’ve found that it usually isn’t a good idea to go chasing after the police. At least not where I’ve lived.”

  A couple of miles later, we saw a black sedan pulled over on the shoulder. Pellner and two other cops approached the car and yanked open the doors. Another officer flagged us down and made us detour onto a side road. As we turned, I could see that the car was empty.

  “Another one bites the dust,” Ryne said.

  “He has to be around here somewhere.” I leaned back in my seat, exhausted.

  “He must be really desperate to get away from you if he’s gone to those lengths.” Ryne’s tone was light, but there was no mistaking the curiosity in his voice.

  “Aren’t they all.” It made me think of Seth.

  “Where to, me fair lass?” Ryne’s Irish accent seemed to come and go in waves. “Home?”

  What if Miss Belle had woken up? It’s not like she was some frail, old woman, but today’s events had been frightening. And if she woke and I disappeared too it might freak her out. I know it would me.

  “My car’s at Belle Winthrop Granville’s house. I’m working for her.”

  “And your work includes chasing after black sedans and police cars? It must be an interesting job.”

  I shook my head and gave him the address. He hadn’t been in town long enough to be impressed or to know anything about her. “She’s probably wondering where I’ve disappeared to and why my car is still parked at her house.”

  “Anyone that knows you realizes they’re going to constantly be surprised by you.”

  “I’m not sure you meant that as a good thing,” I said. Ryne grinned. “Take a left here.”

  Ryne followed my instructions, heading down a side street that would probably lead us back to Nutley. I sent a quick text telling Miss Belle I’d be back in a little while, that I’d gone for a walk. She might decipher the subtext that I didn’t want to put in a text.

  As I looked up from my phone, I saw movement to my right out of the corner of my eye. A man was sprinting through a backyard with the overnight case. I couldn’t have had better luck if I’d had a tracking device on the case. It made sense that he couldn’t have gotten too far after abandoning the car and having to hoof it.

  “Stop,” I yelled to Ryne. “There he is.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I’ve heard of chasing a man before, but you’ve taken it to a whole new level,” Ryne said as he braked.

  I flung my door open, ready to jump out before the car stopped. Ryne grasped my arm and held tight.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “If the police are chasing that man, it’s not safe for you to.”

  I slumped against the seat. “You’re right.” I blamed the heat and adrenaline and craziness of the morning for skewing my judgment. I called Pellner for a third time.

  Ryne looked over at me when I disconnected. “Next time, you might want to let me fully stop the car before you try to bail out. You took years off my life with that move.”

  A police car skidded around the corner. Pellner slowed next to us. Windows were rolled down.

  “He ran that way,” I said, pointing.

  Pellner looked at Ryne. “Do me a favor and take her home.” Then he tore off.

  * * *

  “What’s with all the chairs in the back?” I asked as we headed toward Miss Belle’s house.

  “Garbage day. I found a particularly amazing pile of goods along the road and grabbed a bunch of chairs. My uncle will be pleased with my finds, even though some of them need a bit of love. That and upholstery fabric.”

  For me, one of the delights of living in New England was the way people put their old things out on the curb for other people to pick up. “Oh, that sounds like fun.”

  “Want me to take you by the place I found the chairs? It’s not too far from here.”

  “I wish, but I really need to get back to Miss Belle.” Oh, for a morning of driving around to look for treasures.

  “What’s going on with you and this Miss Belle?” Ryne asked. “I may have joked that you were chasing after a man, but we both know that’s not the truth.”

  I told him a little bit about what had happened this morning. Ryne deserved some kind of explanation after driving me all over the place. He’d peppered me with questions the whole way over to Miss Belle’s. I was too depressed to answer most of them. The biggest literary find in years had slipped through my fingers three times in a few short hours. I’d failed to protect it. Hemingway must be rolling in his grave.

  I trudged into Miss Belle’s kitchen after Ryne dropped me off. Miss Belle sat at a round walnut kitchen table next to a bay window. A glass of iced tea sat in front of her. She held another ice bag to her head.

  “You need to keep your doors locked,” I said.

  “You’re right. Would you like some sweet tea?” she asked. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

  “I’d love some. But don’t get up. Just point me in the right direction.”

  “It’s in the glass pitcher on the shelf in the refrigerator. Glasses are to the left of the sink.”

  I settled across from Miss Belle after helping myself. I took a long drink of the tea and sighed. “It’s delicious.” It was the good kind. Miss Belle must have used a simple sugar to make it instead of just dumping sugar into brewed tea. It made me think of CJ’s mom, who prided herself on her sweet tea. They lived in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, aka LA, aka Lower Alabama.

/>   “I take it you didn’t just go for a walk,” Miss Belle said.

  I looked down at my smudged clothing and pushed back a strand of sweat-dried hair. “No.” I filled her in on what had happened since I’d left her napping. Her eyes grew wider as I told the tale, and she put the ice bag down on the table.

  “Sarah, you put yourself in danger.”

  “I know. On the surface, it seems foolish.” I reached across the table. “But it’s Hemingway and now it’s lost. Maybe forever.” I blinked my eyes to keep the tears that were welling at bay.

  Miss Belle didn’t try to offer any words of comfort, and I respected that. What was there to say?

  “Why does Kay have a telescope in her room?” I asked. I was trying to go through all the questions swirling through my head. I needed answers to anything that seemed unusual.

  “My former caretaker was a birder. He put it up there and used it frequently. No one ever thought to take it out.”

  “So that was his room before Kay’s?” I asked.

  “No. He and his wife had a suite of rooms on the third floor. My caretaker thought the line of sight was better up in the attic.” She paused and studied me. “We have to put our heads together,” she said. “Between the two of us, surely we can think of some way to find the manuscripts.”

  “Did Roger ever show up?” I asked.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Do you think if we went in to the library you’d be able to tell?”

  “It’s worth a try.” Miss Belle took a long look at me as we walked down the hall. “What are you thinking? You sound suspicious of Roger.”

  “Maybe he overheard us talking when I brought you the case with the manuscripts.”

  “Was he the man you were chasing?”

  “No.” Roger was on the pudgy side, with soft hands and a pasty complexion. “The man I chased was lean, taller. Roger, I could have caught.” That put a bit of sparkle in Miss Belle’s eyes.