by Ami Diane
She stood in the doorway, surveying the damage while Will picked a careful path around the room. His face was clouded with emotion.
“The break-in happened a day before her murder, right?” Ella’s fingers brushed over a deep scratch in the doorjamb. The corresponding location on the door wasn’t any better.
“Yeah,” Will said softly, his voice heavy.
“She didn’t clean any of it up?”
His hands curled into fists, and she feared she’d pushed too hard. Finally, he shook his head.
“She probably left it for Chapman to investigate. She came home after her shift at the diner, saw the place, then ran downstairs to call the sheriff.”
“Did Chapman come by?”
“Said he did.” Will sighed, picking up a picture frame of a black and white photo. In it, he and Kay sat on a grassy knoll, the lake in the background. Their heads touched in intimacy as they smiled up at the camera.
“Fingerprints?”
“The sheriff got prints, but nothing but friends and family.”
No fingerprints? Someone knew what they were doing.
“I don’t see anything here that could’ve gotten her killed,” Will said and let out a frustrated sigh. “Maybe the two incidences aren’t as connected as we’d thought.”
Ella’s foot crunched on glass next to the bed. Kay’s nightstand lay sprawled on the ground, a shattered picture frame beside it. Another photo of Kay and Will stared up at Ella, and her heart broke anew for the man.
“Hey, Will?” He looked up from a pile of books. “I’m sorry again for your loss.”
He pressed his mouth into a grim line and nodded. Unsure of what else to say, she gave him space to brood in silence. He’d found an empty milk crate in the lone closet and used it to begin collecting Kay’s belongings.
Standing by a window, Ella watched a fisherman cast out onto the lake. A gentle breeze danced through the open windows, fluttering the curtains, bringing the scent of the forest and song of birds.
Kay’s studio, though small, was the kind of refuge people dreamed of, filled with long, lazy days of reading, listening to classical music, watching the forest grow, and drinking in life. It was filled with silence that was more than just the absence of sound, but the lull of a Sunday afternoon when the sun poked out from a cloud. It was the birth of spring. The patter of rain on a roof. The roll of a distant thunderstorm. It was solitude and reflection.
It was peace.
And it was a special kind of horror that would make Ella want to leave such a place. But Kay had met that darkness. She had wanted to flee Keystone.
Ella let the gauzy curtain fall back into place. Turning, she spotted an old television set in the corner. It was the size of a mini fridge, with curved glass and knobs across the front.
Ella gaped at it like she’d just won the lottery. “You have televisions here?”
Will followed her gaze. “Remnants of Keystone before the flash. They’re useless unless we’re in a time that transmits analog signals the receiver is able to pick up.”
“Not useless if you have a DVD player,” she said under her breath. Judging by the looks of the monstrosity, the picture probably wasn’t in color, let alone capable of hooking up to anything digital.
“That set was left by the previous renter.” Will returned to packing the crate.
Ella wandered into the kitchenette. Compared to the rest of the place, it seemed unscathed. Only a few cupboard doors stood ajar.
She took her time shutting them before moving to the refrigerator. A grocery list in flowery cursive was still fastened to the front, and the door stood open, cold air spilling over her skin.
Ella widened the gap to check for any contents that could spoil. She didn’t want the landlord to have to deal with a foul-smelling fridge—something she’d learned after an unfortunate power outage while vacationing in California for a week. Her apartment had never smelled the same after that.
The refrigerator was mostly bare except for some eggs, bread, and milk. Ella grabbed the glass bottle and poured the contents into the sink. On the whole, it didn’t smell too bad; she’d certainly smelled far worse—a thought that made her sad.
While Ella rinsed out the bottle, the light from the kitchen window hit the painted logo of Bradford Farms on the front. Ella froze.
Kayline Bradford.
Dripping water across the counter, she turned off the faucet and tilted the glass towards the rectangle of sun pouring in.
“Will? Did Kayline own a dairy?”
His eyes darkened from above Kay’s extensive vinyl record collection. “It’s the mayor’s dairy. It’s up Main Street, just out of town. We passed it on the way to the greenhouses.”
Ella nodded, remembering the fields of cows, the pungent smell of excrement, and the adjacent manicured yard and house. “They didn’t have a great relationship, did they?”
“No, they did not.”
“Did he know she was unhappy here?”
His green-blue eyes had shifted to the color of a stormy sea. “She was only unhappy here because of him. And yes, he knew. They fought a lot about it. He did everything he could to keep her here. The compromise was letting her move out and get this place.”
Ella’s grip on the bottle tightened. Let her get her own place? The woman was an adult, for crying out loud.
Her fingers brushed the fading lines of the logo, turning over the information. The more Ella learned about the mayor, the more she didn’t like him.
Had the mayor really done everything to keep Kay in Keystone?
As she wiped her hands over her jeans, something flickered in the sunlight on the floor. Ella knelt and picked up the object, turning it over in her palm. It was a button with a mother of pearl finish.
Her mouth went dry. She’d seen this button before. On a tan shirt in the woods when a gun was pointed at her.
Ella stared at the milky-colored clue, considering the implication: Jesse had been in Kay’s apartment.
But the sheriff should’ve found his prints. Unless… unless the outlaw was smart enough to wear gloves.
Regardless, the small object wasn’t much, but maybe it was enough to divert suspicion away from Rose and back to Six.
Ella rose to her feet, her shoulders slouching. Or maybe it was a coincidence, and the button came from one of Kay’s blouses.
There was only one way to find out. Ella already felt strange rummaging through Kay’s stuff, but the feeling she was intruding amped up when she pulled open the closet door. She tried to think of an excuse to tell Will.
“What’s going to happen to all her clothes?”
“They’ll go back to the clothing pool. Why? You want ‘em?”
Ella swept her hands over the spartan collection of attire, considering her own sparse wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts, but it didn’t sit right with her, wearing a dead woman’s clothes.
“No. I’m not sure they’d fit.”
They lapsed into silence again while Ella gently lay Kay’s wardrobe on her bed, searching for buttons that matched the one tucked into her pocket.
The process didn’t take more than a minute, nearly everything she pulled out had a Nike logo on it, sans buttons, yielding nothing. She pulled out the last item, a button-less dress, and laid it down, frowning.
Something about the closet seemed amiss. There were still nearly two dozen empty hangers in it—far more than one kept for spares.
Her eyes raked over the small apartment, but she didn’t spot any clothes she’d overlooked. There was nothing in the hamper, and even the dresser drawers were lacking.
It was possible that Kay never acquired much by way of clothing after arriving in Keystone, but something in Ella’s gut told her the woman had to own more than two dresses, two pairs of jeans, and a few t-shirts.
“Will, after the break-in, did Kay stay somewhere else?”
He shook his head and gathered up a stack of important looking manilla folders, unique by a massive pink s
tain that marred the bottom left side of every one. It looked like half a bottle of nail polish had spilled its guts over them.
“So, is this the normal size of her wardrobe?” She swept a hand over the clothes covering the bed.
He looked up from stacking the folders into the crate, and a crease formed between his brows. “No, actually. Is that all you found?”
She nodded. Was the intruder a clothes thief?
She puzzled again over the lack of fingerprints. It didn’t seem like Six’s style to be careful.
She stood in the center of the room, weighing her options. If she brought the button to the sheriff’s attention, he’d question the outlaw again but wouldn’t have anything more to hold him on. And if word got around to Six that she’d been the one to tip off Chapman, it’d give him even more reason to come after her.
No. She would need to find the evidence herself. The outlaw was in this apartment, searching for something. If he’d found whatever it was he’d been looking for, then it was most likely at his cabin. If she found it, she could connect him with Kayline.
She revisited the idea of poking around his place that night but with the now added danger of the cowboy being on the loose. What she needed was a distraction, something to keep him occupied long enough for her to investigate.
A heavy, broken sigh escaped Will as he stacked the last photo frame into the crate. The pile teetered, threatening to spill.
She considered telling him about the button but wasn’t certain how he’d react. Patting the evidence in her pocket, she felt it best to keep it to herself—for now.
CHAPTER 21
ELLA WAITED IMPATIENTLY back at the inn for the sun to dip behind the sand dunes. As she changed clothes in the sauna that was her room, she wondered if the town ever jumped somewhere with a beach nearby.
She surveyed her outfit in the mirror. The only dark clothing she’d brought to Keystone were her calf-length yoga pants and black running shirt.
She sighed at the exposed patches of skin. At least she had her dark hair going for her. Briefly, she’d entertained the thought of borrowing one of the winter jackets hanging on the coat tree downstairs, but she decided she’d rather chance the patches of skin being spotted than die from heat exhaustion.
Before leaving, she grabbed her snow gloves from her open suitcase and slipped them on. No sense in leaving fingerprints.
When the shadows stretched and covered the town, Ella crept out of the inn, passing her jeep along the way. She’d have to foot it; the vehicle was unique in a town of mostly antique cars, some buggies, a few horses, and even a chariot. If she drove the jeep up the road, she may as well post a bright, neon sign that flashed, Ella’s car.
Her foot had just stepped off the curb at the end of the block when a rustle sounded from the bushes outside of the conservatory. Ella dived for cover behind a parked car. She held her breath and listened for several painful seconds. When she didn’t hear anything, she poked her head up, expecting to see Six lurking nearby.
Two shadows emerged, both in dark clothing, shoving each other and tripping out of the rhododendrons. By the way they moved, Ella thought they were two drunks until they stepped closer to the lamplight.
Ella let out a heavy breath and stood. “You two nearly made me wet my pants.”
“Told you we looked scary,” Flo said to Wink.
“What are you doing here? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Ella redirected the last question to Flo who stuck out her tongue.
“We’re going with you,” Wink said. “You’re going to Six’s, right?”
Ella swallowed. “Maybe.” She knew she shouldn’t have gotten directions from Flo. “But you can’t come. It’s too dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Wink scoffed. “Honey, we’ve been painting this town red since before you were in diapers… actually since before your parents were in diapers.”
Flo huffed and patted a dubiously shaped bulge under her jacket. “Oh, I got us covered.”
Ella narrowed her eyes. “What’s under there?”
“Nothing,” Flo said at the same time Wink said, “A gun.”
Ella’s mouth dropped open. “You’re armed?”
Flo’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed like a sweet, innocent grandma. Until she opened her mouth. “You don’t want to go anywhere near Six’s without firepower.”
Wink clicked her tongue and looked up and down the street. “We’re a bit conspicuous standing here, chatting. Maybe we should get a move on?”
“That’s why we’re wearing black,” Flo said.
“It only helps camouflage if you’re not standing under a street lamp.”
Ella closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose before taking in their outfits. At least they’d given thought to their nighttime, skulking attire— “Wink, what is that? Is that a cape?”
Lifting her chin, the diner owner grabbed a swath of knitted yarn and threw it over her shoulder like a movie star. “It’s a shawl, and it’s the only top I own that’s black.” She clapped her hand like she was herding school children. “Now let’s get going. I need to get back to Chester. He doesn’t like being left alone.”
Flo leaned close to Ella, put her hand to her mouth, and whispered loud enough for the whole block to hear. “She’s got an unhealthy attachment to that fleabag. Know what I mean?”
Ella crossed her arms, rocking back and forth. “Fine, fine. You two can come along… if you can keep up.”
With that, she dashed across the pavement, zigged down a side street, then zagged onto J Street, running parallel with Main.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she couldn’t see the old broads anywhere. She felt a tinge of guilt but told herself it was for their own good.
Ella decided to keep to J Street. It didn’t run the length of town like Main did, but there was less of a chance of being spotted on the sleepy road.
She continued her stalk up the sidewalk, keeping to the shadows like the invisible badass she was.
She began an internal monologue.
I am darkness. I am the night. A superhero—
“Evening, ma’am.”
Ella straightened as she passed an older gentleman. “Good evening, sir. Nice night for a walk, no?” She slipped her gloved hands under her armpits until he was several paces past her.
She melted into the shadows again. Just as she reached the end, where the only option was to turn back onto Main Street, she heard a steady hissing sound and realized it was someone wheezing.
A few yards away, hovering over the sidewalk on the corner, Flo bent over her knees, her large sides moving in and out. Wink stood over her, patting her back and muttering half-hearted encouragements like, “I told you, you need to exercise more.”
Flo called her dirty things between bites of air. Ella avoided the nearest street lamp and stole across the grass on tiptoes. She’d nearly made it past them when Wink said, “See? I told you we’d beat her. It’s simple geometry.”
Ella stopped, stood straight, and her hands fell to her sides. “Son of a—can everyone see me?”
“Pretty much,” Wink said.
“Helen Keller can see you,” Flo said. Some of the color had returned to her cheeks, but a white, frothy substance had formed at the corner of her mouth.
“Whatever. Let’s get going.” Ella glanced over at Flo. “You going to be okay?”
“You don’t need to worry about me.” She patted her side to emphasize her point.
“All the armament in the world isn’t going to help you from having a stroke,” Ella said.
She eyed the suspicious lump with a growing wariness. She wasn’t a handgun expert, but even she could tell it was large and abnormally shaped.
They walked in silence down Main Street and quickly left the town proper behind. The sidewalk ended as did the street lamps, and the darkness seemed absolute. With little illumination by way of moonlight, Ella used the flashlight app on her smartphone to keep them from tripping.
While they trekked, Wink began asking questions about why Ella was so sure Six was guilty. After several minutes of her prodding, Ella broke down and told them about what Six had said, about Kay finding his still, about the break-in at Kay’s apartment, and about the button she’d found there.
While Wink had heard some of what transpired in the woods, she hadn’t heard the details. All the while, Flo remained silent, but Ella suspected this had more to do with the strange whistling sound that accompanied every heavy breath than an actual disinterest.
Soon, Wink indicated that they were nearing the cutoff. Using her phone-turned-flashlight, Ella located the dirt road to Six’s cabin.
The narrow lane shot out perpendicular from the main road and contained the orchard on one side. As their feet left the busted pavement, dust and the scent of apples filled Ella’s nostrils.
With the sun gone, the temperature dropped rapidly. A chill crept over her skin, and she now wished she’d grabbed that winter coat after all.
After ten minutes, they passed an outcropping of trees and a wooden sign marking Twin Springs. The cluster of evergreens, oaks, and willows surrounding the spring stopped abruptly, and a vast, empty field stretched before them until it met the dunes on the horizon, blotting out the stars.
Ahead, a black rectangle marred the barren landscape. Dull light poured from the windows of Six’s cabin.
Ella’s stomach tightened into a ball of nerves. She shut off her light in case he looked out and spotted its movement, and she plunged them into near darkness.
“He’s home,” Wink said.
“Very observant,” Flo said. “We suspected as much.” As she spoke, the older woman’s hand caressed the lump in her side.
Shaking her head, Ella redirected their course to the rundown barn next to the cabin. “My plan was to draw him out and away from the house.”
She crept forward on the balls of her feet, tripping on clumps of sod, and being generally stealthy as she led them over to the sagging outbuilding. But she was a ninja compared to the Golden Girls behind her, hissing at each other like cats.