Under the Gun

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Under the Gun Page 21

by Kelsey Browning


  “Maybe the person who originally set it up had a fear of heights,” Maggie said.

  “Not important. I’m sure there’s a good explanation.” Lil grabbed Maggie and urged her toward the giant angel statue. “You can fix this, right?”

  Her best friend pulled an economy-size bottle of Gorilla Glue out of her fanny pack, which might as well have been a darned tool belt, and brandished it as if it was the answer to every modern world problem. Which was ridiculous since Maggie’s DIY holy grail was, without a doubt, duct tape.

  But poor Michael’s boo-boo would be pretty noticeable if Maggie wrapped it in the pink camo design she’d taken to carrying lately.

  “I need a few minutes. It would be impossible to find a clamp that would hold this angle right, so I’ll need to stand here until it forms a strong bond.” Maggie doused the statue with glue, rose on tiptoe to press the broken wing into place, and stood there holding it.

  Lil was antsy to search the place for some real clues to Bad Charlie’s whereabouts. After learning that guard had seen Charlie, she had a feeling—and no, it wasn’t simply her bursitis acting up—that the mausoleum had more secrets to give up.

  At one point, Maggie gave Lil a sharp look. “What is wrong with you? You’re dancing a jig over there. Do you need to use the ladies’ room?”

  It wasn’t until that comment that Lil realized she’d been shuffle-ball-changing in anticipation. “Just anxious to find something that will lead us to those darn guns.”

  “This is all about Abby Ruth, huh?” Sera’s smile was wide and knowing. “Don’t try to tell us that your anticipation has nothing to do with you becoming as addicted to solving crimes as we have.”

  “Admit it. Sera’s right.” Abby Ruth’s grin matched Sera’s.

  Lil couldn’t hold back her own smile. She would never for the rest of her days forget the way it had felt to tackle the person responsible for that art fraud scheme in Summer Shoals. She’d felt strong, able, and useful. And that was a combination that could keep a gal her age alive and lively for years to come. “I admit that I can now see the appeal.”

  “Thought so.”

  Maggie gingerly released her hold on Michael’s wounded wing. Nary a wobble. “He’ll be good as new.”

  That was a relief because the last thing Lil wanted to do was use her small stash of savings to replace a statue. She pulled a piece of paper out of her handbag. “I made a list of how we might search for clues.”

  “Lil,” Maggie said, leaning back against one of the vault-covered walls. “I’m not sure you understand the way we normally operate.”

  Lil waved a hand in the air, dismissing Maggie’s comment. “You’ll find a floor plan on the opposite side.”

  “Uh, Lil—”

  “Since that security guard said Bad Charlie brought in caskets, what do you think about starting our search in the dock area?”

  “Lil, something—”

  “From there, we can move on to the employee break room, the men’s room, and—”

  “Lil!”

  “What?”

  Maggie eased away from where she’d been leaning against the wall and pointed at the vault near her rear. “This just moved.”

  Sera hunkered down to get a better look. “Only one of the four little screw-in rosette corner thingies is in this one. See?”

  “I hardly think—”

  But Maggie and Sera were already wrestling with the square piece of granite. Lil laid a hand over her chest to try to calm the palpitations that were threatening to fling her heart out into the world. “You’re desecrating one of Rosemary Myrtle’s family members.”

  Abby Ruth stepped closer. “Well, if you think about it, the family member is inside a box. Not near this marker anyway.” She patted Lil’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Let’s see what’s going on.”

  They heaved the granite out and carefully set the stone on the floor. Well, at least they were being careful.

  “I thought you said Rosemary seemed very well-to-do,” Maggie said.

  “Of course she is. She’s a descendent of the Myrtle family. As in the Myrtle Knolls Myrtles.”

  “And she said her deceased husband’s name was Ronald?”

  “That’s right.”

  “This is definitely his resting spot then,” Maggie said. “But why would she have entombed him in a plain wooden casket? Not a casket so much as a cheap box.” She stooped down for a better look and grimaced. “And not even good wood. It’s plywood.”

  Maggie stepped back, giving Lil a clear view into the vault. “Is that even legal?”

  “And it’s missing the crypt sealer. Ya know, the plastic piece those guys caulked into place separating the space where the casket goes from the granite marker. I wonder why?”

  “Why indeed?”

  “Girls? I think we may have hit gold.” Sera said, reaching into the vault. “Maggie, this looks just like the box in the loading area when we were here the first time.”

  Maggie whipped out her phone and found the pictures they’d taken. “It sure does. Look.” She turned her phone to show them. “I figured it was county-funded or something. Like for a pauper’s funeral.”

  Sera crawled partway into the crypt, which gave Lil the willies.

  “I admit it seems unusual, but of all people, I know even the most prosperous families can fall on hard times. Maybe Rosemary couldn’t afford better.” Lil knew that feeling all too well. “We need to put all of this back the way we found it and respect their privacy.”

  “Um, Lil?” Sera’s voice rose. “What are the odds your friend would bury her dead husband dressed in bubble wrap?” She shimmied back out, dragging a piece of plastic from the vault.

  My, that did seem unusual.

  “Sera, you think we can pull that casket out?” Maggie asked.

  “We can do anything we set our minds to.”

  Half horrified and half intrigued, Lil watched her two friends contort themselves and wrestle a brown wooden box out of the vault until it teetered on the edge like a doctor’s scale that couldn’t quite register whether you were just right or a little on the heavy side.

  A couple more pieces of packing wrap poked out from the edge of the lid.

  “Do you…do you think we should…” Lil waved a hand toward the casket. As much as she did not want to see Mr. Myrtle, this was too strange not to investigate.

  “It’s not sealed,” Abby Ruth said. “I’d say that’s permission enough.”

  “All in!” Maggie said cheerfully. She and Sera yanked on the box and one end thudded to the floor. They dragged it out of the vault, leaving splinters on the marble floor.

  I hope we’re not disturbing someone’s peaceful eternal slumber.

  Maggie sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and eased open the lid.

  Lil couldn’t help herself and leaned forward to get the first glimpse. And there amid several cushioning wads of bubble wrap were somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty guns. “Guns?”

  Abby Ruth, who’d been hanging back, lunged forward.

  Lil’s midsection cramped. Lord have mercy, this was big. “Poor Rosemary.”

  “What do you mean?” Sera, Abby Ruth, and Maggie all looked at her.

  “It’s obvious someone has stolen her husband and replaced him with these guns.”

  “Ew,” Sera said. “What do you think they did with him?”

  Lil didn’t even want to contemplate. Anyone who was capable of hiding guns in such a sacred place obviously had no morals.

  Maggie carefully sorted through guns of all shapes and sizes. She pulled out one handgun and held it up like it was a dead mouse. “Does this look familiar?”

  “That’s my Astra 400!” Abby Ruth’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she started unrolling the bubble wrap.

  “Are all these guns yours?”

  Abby Ruth stepped back with a frown on her face. “No. Some aren’t mine.” She lifted an AK-47 out of the box and checked to see if it was loaded.

>   “But are all of your guns here?” Lil asked.

  “It’ll take me a minute to go through them all.”

  “Maggie, go head off any visitors,” Lil said. “If we get caught now, we’d have some explaining to do.” And her own fanny would end up in one hot mess again. Terms of her probation were quite clear about abiding the law and possession of firearms.

  Maggie ran around the corner and positioned herself so she could see in both directions. She lifted a hand in the air and gave Lil the thumbs up.

  Lil had wanted a lead, but this was more than she’d bargained for.

  Abby Ruth rummaged through the pseudo-casket. “No. Mine aren’t all here.”

  Dang, that wasn’t good news. Maybe they should search every vault in this alcove. Lil glanced around and was overwhelmed. There had to be at least fifty. Not only would it take too much time and put them at risk for discovery, but there was no way they could reach the upper vaults without special equipment. “We’re not prepared to do more today. I say we put the casket back and fix it so it looks like it hasn’t been touched. At least we found some of them, Abby Ruth.”

  Abby Ruth pushed the Astra into the back of her pants, and a smaller gun into her boot. “It’s a start.”

  “Maybe we should—”

  “If you’re about to suggest we tell Teague,” Abby Ruth said. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

  She never did, but Lil adjusted her handbag on the crook of her arm and thought. “This time, I agree. If we go to the authorities, they’ll feel the need to take over. And honestly, they don’t have any skin in this game.”

  Abby Ruth patted Lil on the shoulder, then Lil motioned for Maggie to come back to help scooch that box of guns back where they found it.

  It took Lil, Sera, and Maggie all three to muscle the gun-filled box back into its proper place. Afterward, Lil was slightly winded. Crime solving was more physically demanding than she’d ever realized. Maybe it was time to add a weight-training regimen to the two miles she walked each day, trying to lose the last of the weight she’d gained in prison.

  On their way to the stairs, Lil said, “Why don’t y’all go on up? I need to stop in the restroom before we head home. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” They didn’t have to know she needed an opportunity to apply a wet towel to her sweating face.

  Inside the ladies room, she splashed water on her cheeks, and as she was patting them dry when in walked Rosemary Myrtle.

  Oh, what a quandary.

  “Hello, Lillian.”

  “So nice to see you again.” Not really, though. Lil was playing mental ping-pong. What was the proper etiquette in this situation? Would she want someone to tell her if Harlan’s grave had been ransacked? No? Maybe? Yes, absolutely.

  She forced herself to smile pleasantly at the other woman. “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to discuss something with you.”

  “Of course.”

  They settled on the couch Abby Ruth had taken a nap on, and Lil wished desperately for a cup of the tea Rosemary had been sipping the other day. Anything to make this revelation easier. “I’d like to tell you not to be upset by what I’m about to say, but I know that’s impossible.”

  Rosemary’s brow crinkled. “This sounds like bad news.”

  “You have to promise not to tell a soul, and I need you to keep it quiet—for a few days anyway.”

  “Why? What is going on?”

  “It’s complicated.” Lil couldn’t tell her the whole story, not without a lot of explaining and there wasn’t time.

  Rosemary paused only for a moment. “You have my word.”

  “I happened by your family’s alcove earlier and one of the headstones was loose.”

  The look on Rosemary’s face went from surprise to anger to sorrow in what seemed like fast-forward. “That’s unusual.” Her words were clipped, revealing how disturbed she was.

  “You’re upset. I would be too.” Lil paused, hoping Rosemary would appreciate her empathy, but grief was unpredictable. “We thought it was strange too, so I felt the need to take a closer look.”

  Rosemary’s hands tightened around her handbag. “What do you mean?”

  “I hate to tell you this, but I’m afraid your husband’s body is missing.”

  Chapter 22

  Lil felt terrible about being the one to break the news to Rosemary. But it seemed like the right thing to do.

  Rosemary looked stunned. She made Lil promise to come see her the next afternoon, scribbled her address on the back of a brochure, and shoved it at Lil as she ran from the restroom.

  It took Lil a moment to compose herself too. Poor Rosemary had to be devastated.

  Making her way to the parking lot, Lil decided it would be best to keep her visit with Rosemary from her friends. She felt a special connection to the other well-bred Southern woman, but she wasn’t quite sure how to tell the others that without sounding like she was putting them down.

  By the time Lil and the girls got back to Summer Haven, the day had worn on them all. All except Abby Ruth, who seemed to be having quite the happy reunion with her guns, spreading them out on the dining room table and giving them a loving cleaning and polish job.

  The next afternoon, Lil made up an excuse to borrow Maggie’s truck. Thankfully, Maggie and Sera had decided to take advantage of the beautiful May weather and were plucking weeds from the front flowerbed.

  Lil parked Maggie’s truck two blocks from the Myrtle family home so Rosemary wouldn’t see what she’d driven. Because this was one of those times when appearances were important. She cursed herself. Yes, she’d learned better in the past about trying to keep up with the Joneses, or Myrtles in this case, but this was a special circumstance. Once she and Rosemary knew each other better, Lil would be a bit more forthcoming about her own financial challenges.

  Thank goodness she’d thought to wear a pair of low pumps. Anything higher than these one-and-a-half-inch heels and she’d be limping by the time she got to Rosemary’s door.

  She rang the front bell of the ornate two-story Victorian with glossy white paint, an immaculate yard, and a metal fence that had obviously been handcrafted. By the house’s upkeep, Lil would’ve never guessed Rosemary was so strapped for cash that she couldn’t afford a nice casket for her dear husband.

  But then Lil knew a thing or two about keeping up appearances.

  Rosemary answered the door and glanced toward the driveway. “Lillian, so nice for you to come for tea. But I didn’t hear you drive up.”

  “It was such a pretty day, I decided to park near the Town Square and walk.”

  “My, that’s very…enterprising of you.” She stepped aside, allowing Lil to enter the foyer, a space paneled in high-dollar blond mahogany and lined with expensive-looking objets d’ art.

  “I’m so sorry about your husband.” Lil clasped her hands together. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.”

  Rosemary bowed her head then placed her hand across her chest. “It’s appalling. That’s what it is. But I do appreciate you being so forthcoming. Let’s visit for a while, please. I’m not ready to talk about that yet.”

  Lil could only imagine what Rosemary was going through. Such a dedicated wife to be there every day, only to discover she was sitting with an empty box! Heavens to Betsy.

  A shiny glint caught Lil’s eye from across the foyer. “Is that what I think it is?” She approached a small and delicate artifact sitting in a lit niche.

  “I don’t like to brag, but our family is one of the few in the US to own a Fabergé egg from the pre-1917 originals. Priceless really.”

  “It’s breathtaking.” With its jewel-crusted exterior and delicate gold clasp, it was as if a multibillionaire bunny had stopped by at Easter.

  “I’ve had my staff ready the back veranda for tea, if you’ll follow me.” She swept toward the back of the house.

  Staff? Interesting choice of spending. Lil would’ve upgraded her husband’s casket before paying people to
wait on her.

  Lil followed and tried to swallow down her envy at the beautiful furniture, tapestries, and other goodies around every corner. When she spotted a collection of pocket watches, so like her daddy’s, glimmering in a lit curio, a bitter taste filled her mouth.

  Stop this nonsense, Lillian. Summer Haven is still beautiful, if a little tattered.

  Rosemary led the way to an expansive covered porch with a rattan dining suite sitting under a ceiling fan turning lazy circles. Fine china and crystal adorned the table.

  When Lil sat, she had to hold her hands in her lap to refrain from upending her cup and saucer to look for the manufacturer’s mark on the underside. When in the world did I become so uncouth? Momma would be so ashamed.

  A woman in a well-pressed maid’s uniform approached the table and poured fragrant tea in Lil’s and Rosemary’s cups, then she offered platters of delicate finger sandwiches and tarts. How long had it been since she’d had such a beautifully presented table? Since long before she made the acquaintance of Walter Stiles Federal Prison Camp.

  She smiled at Rosemary. “Thank you for going to all this trouble. It looks and smells delicious.”

  “Oh, it was no trouble.” Rosemary shrugged politely. “I was so delighted to meet you. Honestly, I can’t believe we’ve lived in neighboring counties all these years and never met before. After all, I’ve heard for many years about the Summers and all the charitable things your family has done for your community.”

  “I’m sure no more than the Myrtle family has done here.”

  “Certainly so.” Rosemary took a dainty sip of her tea. “It’s lonely sometimes, isn’t it?”

  “Being widowed, you mean?”

  Her laughter was a high tinkle. “Oh, goodness, no. I mean it’s lonely being the matriarch. Having others always look to you for guidance on what’s proper and allowed. I suppose that’s what they mean by it being lonely at the top.”

  Lil nodded, but she certainly didn’t consider herself lonely, not with Maggie’s, Sera’s, and Abby Ruth’s companionship. But it seemed rude to rub that in Rosemary’s nose if she didn’t have similar friendships. “I suppose you’re heavily involved with the Junior League and other organizations here.”

 

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