by Jade Wolfe
He was about to argue with me, I could see it in his eyes - when a commotion out in the main part of the police station caught our attention. I turned to see what was up, just as May Marie, wild-eyed, came bursting in through the door. “Dante!” she gasped. “They need you over at the library - Bess Gabriel is dead.”
I felt my mouth fall open, and I couldn’t seem to do anything but stare at her. Dante was in better control of himself. He was already coming around the side of the desk, buckling a pistol and holster to his belt. When he brushed by me, I snapped out of it and followed him. Dad was right behind me.
We were almost to the door when Ben Bridges stepped out of his office. “Clover Trace,” he said, in a voice that boomed loud enough to be heard over the ruckus. I didn’t stop, and he yelled again, but then I was out the door, headed for the library on foot.
Dad was still behind me. By the time he caught up, we were on the sidewalk outside the library’s big double doors. “Clover,” he said. There was something odd about his voice.
I turned to him, and saw that he looked a little pale. With a longing glance at the clutch of people at one corner of the library - the same corner William had been standing at the morning of the murder - I turned to help him to one of the stone benches that lined the sidewalk. As curious as I was, Dad came first, every day and all day.
“Dad, you’re going to make yourself sick,” I said, just as Dante pulled into the lot in his cruiser, his blue lights flashing.
“You’re going to make yourself dead,” he snapped, rubbing his chest with one hand. “Stay away from this mess.”
The sight of him hurting scared me. I pulled my phone from my back pocket. “I’m calling you an ambulance.”
He put out his free hand and pushed my phone downward, into my lap. “No you aren’t. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“You don’t look fine,” I said. Then I glanced over his shoulder to see that the crowd had grown. Dante was nowhere to be seen.
“Clover, take me home. I don’t feel so good.”
The knot in my stomach twisted a little bit harder and I touched his arm. I wasn’t sure how to help. I wasn’t sure if he needed that ambulance. I wasn’t sure of anything, but I didn’t care about Jasper Davenport, Bess Gabriel, or anything else right now. The whole danged town could go up in smoke for all I cared, as long as my father was all right. “Dad. Daddy...”
He shook his head. “I’ll be all right. I just want to go home.”
“Stay here. I’ll get the truck.”
We’d left it parked back at the police station, so I ran the three blocks to get it in record time. I was pretty sure I stopped breathing until I pulled up and saw him still sitting there. The whole trip had taken maybe five minutes, but five minutes was a long time when a man as old as my dad was in distress.
He was able to climb into the truck without my help, cursing as he did it, and I made a mental note to buy something more practical for when he was with me. We had the money, and if I needed to spend every last cent to make Dad more comfortable, that’s what I would do. I backed out of the parking space and headed for home.
By the time we got there, he seemed a little better. His hand still rested over his heart, but he wasn’t as white as before and he seemed to be breathing fine again. When I pulled into the driveway, Jason was just walking across the veranda. He was sweaty, like he was coming back from a run. I hit the horn twice and he paused.
I opened my door. “Jason, come help me with Dad. He’s sick.”
“I’m not sick,” Dad grumbled from the passenger seat.
“Uh-huh.”
I stepped out of the way and let Jason help him down from the truck. They walked toward the house. Dad was moving more slowly than usual, but otherwise he seemed to be all right. I followed behind, trying to get my own heartbeat under control.
Jason went straight upstairs with Dad, who called over his shoulder. “Stay close, Sugar. I might need you.”
“I will,” I promised, watching them and biting my lip. Then I sent a little prayer skyward. “Please watch over my daddy,” I said to Whoever might be listening. “Help him be all right.”
Then I went to the pantry in the kitchen to see if Sage had left any tea for ‘heart attacks’ or ‘abject fear’. The first one was for Dad, the second for me. She didn’t, so I settled for ‘anxiety’ with a pinch of ‘bad mood’, whatever that was. Then I took my tea out to the verandah and sat in one of the rocking chairs. Dad’s window was just over my head on the second floor, so I could hear him if he called.
I thought about calling Dante to find out what was happening, but he most likely wouldn’t answer. He was busy.
Jason came down after a little while and sat in the other rocker. “He said he was gonna rest.”
“Do you think he’s all right?” I asked.
He blinked like he was surprised that I asked him. “I think so. He was joking a little, and he told me to tell you to not worry, that he just needed to take a nap.”
I shook my head. “I think he’d say that if he chopped off a leg. I don’t know whether to believe him or not.”
“Well.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “If you ignore him and call an ambulance, he’s going to be mad.”
“I know - but I’d rather him be mad than...you know.” I didn’t want to think the word, much less say it out loud. Call me superstitious.
He reached over and patted my shoulder, then stood up. “I think he’ll be all right. Check on him every hour and take him some water when you go up. That’ll help.”
I nodded. Then I realized I was taking Jason’s advice and grinned.
“What?” he asked.
“You really are growing up,” I told him.
He blushed and looked away.
“You’re going to make a great cop.”
He didn’t answer, but there was a little extra swagger in his step when he went back inside.
I sat and finished my tea and thought about Dad. I thought about his birthday present, hiding in the bottom of my closet, and Lavinia’s wonderful offer of three unpublished manuscripts. I realized that I’d forgotten to tell him about that.
I checked my phone to see that it had been nearly an hour, so it was probably safe to go up without being accused of hovering. I’d tell him about the manuscripts.
When I got to his room, with a large, cold glass of water in one hand, I knocked gently and then pushed open the door with my free hand. He was sitting at the small writing desk under his window, with his back to me, and he turned when the door opened. Behind him, covering the desk, I caught a glimpse of playing cards.
“Dad?” I asked.
“Hey, Sugar.” He got up awkwardly, trying to stay between me and the desktop.
“Are you playing cards?” I asked him, handing over the glass of water. “I thought you were going to take a nap?”
He frowned sheepishly, and I realized what was going on.
“You were faking?” I asked, staring at him.
He shuffled his feet and looked away.
“Not really...” he started, then let his voice trail off. “I did want to go home.”
“But not because you were sick?”
He sniffed and kept looking at the floor.
“You are...that’s...”I put my hands on my hips, unable to believe he’d do such a thing to me. “You’re a trickster.”
His brows came together. “Sugar, you have no reason to go traipsing around a crime scene. I worry about you, and I wish you’d just...quit this stuff.”
“You scared the life out of me!” I said.
“I know. I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Relief warred with irritation in my heart. I was glad he was all right, but angry that I’d missed out on the other stuff.
“You know how you felt about me an hour ago?” he asked. “All worried?”
I looked at him.
“Well, I feel that way ev
ery time you run off to find a killer. We pay taxes so you don’t have to do that. So you’ll be safe.” He was deadly serious. “Now, I don’t want to fight with you, but I will ask you to stop doing those things.”
His sincerity made me feel ashamed that I hadn’t been taking his feelings into account. “I don’t really mean to get involved, Dad. I swear I don’t. This stuff just sort of...finds me. I’m sorry.”
It was true, mostly. I didn’t go looking for these things, but I just couldn’t seem to help myself when it came time to figure out the puzzle. “You taught me to be curious, and you taught me to help if I could, no matter what. This way, I’m doing both.” I sighed, not sure how to make him understand. “To be honest, there isn’t much else to do around here.”
He shook his head and let out a little laugh. “It ain’t Nashville, that’s for sure.”
“But you were right about how I needed to get my antiques business up and running again. I’m working on that.”
“Gonna give old Bagly a run for his money?” he asked, pulling me in for a hug. I was still irritated with his deception, but he was my dad. I hugged him back.
“If I can.”
“You can.” He leaned back to look me in the eye. “If you manage to stay in one piece.”
“I promise I will. It might look crazy from your perspective, but I really am careful. If I think I’m in danger, I try to get away.”
He sighed. “Sometimes you’re more like your Aunt Sage than your mother,” he said. “She was a troublesome kid, too.”
It was the first time I’d heard something that sounded like affection in his tone when he talked about Sage. It was a surprise. “She raised some hell in her time.”
I nodded. “I’m glad you were faking. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d lost you.”
“It’s entirely possible that Dante would starve to death.”
Chapter Fifteen
The paramedics were taking Bess Gabriel’s body away when I made it back to the library, with Dad’s warnings to be careful ringing in my head. Dante was standing in front of the library, talking to Dwayne. I climbed out of the truck and headed their way. I made it halfway before I caught sight of Ben Bridges coming toward me. He looked like a stubborn old bull.
“Clover, what are you doing here?” Ben asked, getting to me at the same time I got to Dante’s side.
“Looking for a book?” I asked as innocently as I could.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Really, Ben. I just came to ask Dwayne if the library was open, what with the incident and all.”
He didn’t believe a word of it, but he didn’t have room to say anything, either. Instead of answering, he looked at Dante. “Keep her out of trouble,” he said, turning on his heel and marching toward his patrol car.
Dante looked at me and grinned. “You’re the only person I know who gets in trouble just by showing up.”
I shrugged. “Is Bess really dead?” I asked.
“It was terrible!” Dwayne said, wringing his hands. He didn’t look nearly as distraught as before, though, so I suspected that at least a book hadn’t been involved.
“She’s dead,” Dante said. “We’ve got Lavinia in custody.”
I gaped at him. “Lavinia didn’t kill anybody!” I protested.
“You don’t know that.” He took my arm, nodded goodbye to Dwayne, and led me away from the library to the same bench that Dad and I had been sitting on earlier.
“Give me details,” I said, plopping down beside him.
He shook his head. “You’re just asking for trouble.”
“You said we make a good team,” I reminded him. “And we do. There’s no I in team, Dante.”
He laughed at that and gave in. “OK, Bess Gabriel was found dead outside behind the library, not very far from where that door had been left unlocked when Jasper died.”
“Who found her?”
“Dwayne. He’s been double and triple checking that door ever since the murder.” He paused. “The first murder.”
“Poor guy. Twice in one week.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, he came down to check his locks and she was laying in the grass. He said it was almost like someone had opened the door and knocked her out accidentally, except that she was dead.”
I nodded. “An accident like that wouldn’t kill a person.”
“Right. Also, she was killed by a solid blow to the back of her head, not the front. It was pretty gruesome. I’m glad you didn’t go down there.”
I shivered. “OK. And why did you arrest Lavinia?”
“I’ve got three witnesses telling me that she was loitering around near the river.”
The river flowed behind the library and there wasn’t any barrier up to keep people out of it. Dwayne had been bugging the city about it for years.
I realized that I hadn’t told Dante my latest news. I shook my head. “Dante, she wasn’t loitering around the river because she killed anyone.” I told him about my encounter with her on the bridge. “I think she was trying to jump. To end it.”
“Are you serious?”
I nodded, thinking that ended Lavinia’s involvement. In my head, her sorrow was proof enough that she hadn’t killed her husband.
Dante had other ideas. “Do you think she felt guilty for offing Jasper and was afraid of getting caught?”
I thought about that. “Honestly, that explanation never occurred to me. I suppose it could mean that, but I still don’t think she did it.”
“Well, for now at least, she’s our lead suspect.”
He was climbing into his car when something else came to mind. I ran to catch up. “Would it be all right if I went to see the body?” I asked.
He shot me a look. “I don’t know anything about this.” Then he slammed the door, started the car, and headed for the police station.
I grinned at his taillights. It was time to go to the morgue.
The hospital that served all of Wilder County and the surrounding counties was a gray, squat, ugly building. Two stories of depressing. I headed around back to the emergency entrance, then slipped through the cold fluorescent-lit halls to the sign that pointed me toward Connie’s office in the basement. I was half afraid that she’d gone home for the day, but the lights in her doorway told me otherwise. I knocked lightly and stepped inside.
She looked up. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose bun and her eyes were tired. “Hey, Connie,” I said. Then I realized I was whispering for no reason.
She caught that, too, and grinned at me. “You aren’t going to wake them up,” she said.
“Them?”
“Bess and her boss Jasper.”
“They’re both still here?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It’s a murder investigation. What can I do for you? Are you still playing detective?”
“Guilty as charged,” I said.
“You keep this up and you’ll have Dante’s job by Christmas.”
I shuddered at the thought of working for Ben. “No thanks.”
I was almost afraid to ask my favor now. Connie was like the tough heroine in a superhero movie, in my eyes. She wasn’t afraid to hang out down here with death and she always seemed like she could handle herself in any situation. Compared to her, I was a big ole chicken. Working up my nerve, I asked, “Would you get into trouble for letting me see Bess Gabriel’s body?” I asked.
She blinked and chuckled. “How would I get into trouble?” she asked. “I’m the only certified coroner within two hundred miles of this place.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“Why do you want to see Bess’s remains, Clover?”
“I just have to check something,” I said. There I was, whispering again.
“Come on.” I followed her through the door behind her desk and into an uncomfortably cold room. She was wearing high heeled boots and a suit under her lab coat. I felt like a kid walking along behind her in my jeans and sneakers. “What are you looking for?”
she asked me over her shoulder.
“Her fingernails.”
“Say that again?”
“Her fingernails.”
She turned to me and cocked her head to one side. “Now why would you want to do that?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Just to see.”
“Uh-huh.”
We stopped beside a gurney that contained a large black body bag. Without any ceremony, Connie unzipped the bag and pulled back the flap.
I stifled a little gasp of surprise. Bess looked so full of life the last time I’d seen her that this woman looked like a completely different person. A very, very dead person. Gray and slack, like she was made of plastic. I took a step back.
Connie chuckled. “She’s not going to bite you.”
“I know...”
Connie fished around under the black plastic and pulled out a hand with some difficulty. Then she motioned for me to come closer.
All of the fingernails of Bess’s right hand were broken off.
“I noticed it at the library,” she told me. “I even mentioned it to Dante, but he didn’t seem to pay much attention to that little detail.”
I nodded and stepped back. The chemical smell in the room was getting to me. How did she work in here all day?
Connie tucked Bess away again. “Do you think she had time to scratch her attacker?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I think she broke her fingernails before that.”
After thanking Connie and promising to keep my mouth shut about my visit, I left the hospital and headed for my next stop. This one was a tad more dangerous than the last, but Dante was so sure that Lavinia had killed Jasper, I didn’t think he’d listen to my ideas.
So I needed proof.
Thankfully, Katlyn wasn’t on duty tonight, so I was able to make up a story about leaving something in Pete Shoemaker’s room. The new clerk, a young guy, bought it and even called up to see if Pete was there. He wasn’t, so I was in the clear.
He was on the first floor, and I was inside before anyone could come down the red-carpeted hall and see me. Then I turned and looked around.
Pete Shoemaker was a slob, apparently. His suitcase sat on a chair in the corner, with clothes spilling out of it into the floor. His bed wasn’t made, and there were wet towels everywhere I looked - on the carpet, the dresser top, the doorknobs. The place was a mess. I wasn’t here to survey his housekeeping skills, though, and I found what I wanted almost immediately.