A Hard Day's Fright

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A Hard Day's Fright Page 25

by Casey Daniels


  “Sure, let’s talk. Just like the old friends we are.” Darren threw back his head and laughed. “What would you like to talk about, Will? How about which whiskey’s your favorite?”

  Will scuffed his shoes against the floor.

  And yeah, I’d been talking the talk about staying calm. But walking the walk was something I’m not very good at.

  “Darren Andrews, you son of a…” I growled at him and dared to take a step nearer. If I could just get close enough to grab Ariel’s arm…

  “How dare you ridicule Will,” I said. “It’s your fault he’s the way he is. Your fault that Bobby killed himself. Tell him, Darren. Tell Will how Lucy didn’t die because you kids did something wrong. Tell him how you wanted to shut her up. Tell him how you said you were going around to the back of the car to let her out, but you really held a blanket over her face. You smothered her to death.”

  At my side, I heard Will take in a long, stuttering breath. “Is it true?”

  Darren’s only response was a smile.

  “This piece of crap has been holding it over all of you for forty-five years,” I said. “Just to make sure you kept quiet.”

  In the silence of the decrepit building, Will’s moan sounded like the howl of a banshee. “I had a life,” he wailed. “I had a life, and you took it away from me.”

  Will moved fast for an old guy, but Andrews was in better shape. He dropped the shovel and got a two-handed hold on Ariel. He lifted her up and dangled her over the side of the building.

  “I’ll drop her,” he said. “I swear I’ll drop her if you come any closer.”

  “Mom!” Ariel cried.

  And maybe it’s the whole motherly instinct thing. It was all Ella could take.

  I knew what she was going to do even before she moved, so I was ready. When Ella and Will darted forward, grasping for Ariel, I moved, too. I had that shovel in my hands in an instant.

  Darren Andrews was out cold before he ever knew what hit him.

  It was the first I dared take my cell phone off of where it was clipped to the waistband of my jeans.

  My hands were shaking, but I think my voice was pretty calm when I said, “So what do you think, Len, did you hear all that pretty well?”

  On the other end of the phone, Len Cranston chuckled. “All I can hear now is that noise in the background. Is that laughing or crying? No, don’t even bother to try to explain. I’m not sure where Quinn found you, Pepper, or how you do what you do…” I heard him whistle under his breath. “I can only say I’m glad you asked me to do you this favor and sit down here on the street so I could monitor what you were up to. Stay put. I’ll be right up there.”

  We waited for him, Will hugging Ella, who was hugging Ariel and me, keeping an eye on Darren to make sure he didn’t come to and decide to make a break for it.

  While I was at it, I took a closer look at the Saint Andrew’s medal and the delicate skeleton hand of the woman who held it.

  And I thought about how right Quinn was.

  The dead really do talk, and it looked like Lucy Pasternak still had a lot to say.

  19

  “It was a nice funeral, wasn’t it?”

  Since the look in her eyes was far, far away, I wasn’t sure if Ella was talking to me, or herself.

  I answered, anyway. It beat sitting there on the rapid watching Ella stare out the window.

  “It was perfect,” I told her. “You did a great job of planning everything.”

  “It was the least I could do.” Her smile was more relaxed than any I’d seen from her in the days since Darren Andrews had been arrested for a forty-five-year-old murder. But then, she’d almost seen her youngest daughter thrown out a window. I guess I was willing to cut Ella some slack.

  “I still don’t see what Lucy’s funeral at Garden View had to do with taking a ride on the rapid,” she said. “But that’s OK.” She patted my knee. “After all you’ve done for us…” Her eyes gleamed with tears, but I knew they were happy ones. “Ariel’s decided she doesn’t want to be a detective anymore. She told you that, didn’t she? As a matter of fact, before she left for school today, she told me she’d decided to become a librarian.”

  “She’s good at research, and she actually enjoys it.” I nodded. It made sense. In a sick and twisted way. “She’ll be a great librarian.”

  “And Will’s going to be OK, too.” I knew this part of the story, of course, but Ella never got tired of talking about it. “His attorney’s sure he’ll get probation, provided he goes into rehab and stays there. It’s the best thing that could have happened to him. Maybe now he’ll be able to put all the sadness behind him.”

  “Will you?”

  She tipped her head, thinking. “I’ll never forget Lucy, or all that was taken from her. The world would be a better place if she was part of it. But I’m at peace now.” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, then looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Are you?”

  “Me?” In the great scheme of things, I was the one who was least affected by all that had gone on in the previous weeks. Except for—

  “Oh, you’re talking about Quinn.”

  Ella chuckled. “Of course that’s what I’m talking about. You went to the hospital again to see him, didn’t you? What’s that handsome detective of yours have to say for himself?”

  Since he wasn’t my detective, I suppose I wasn’t officially obligated to answer. I did, anyway. “Quinn and I have a lot to talk about.” Understatement! Though we’d discussed the medications he was taking, the physical therapy he would eventually have to go through, and every other subject under the sun including the poor quality of hospital food, we had yet to get down to brass tacks and talk about what we should have been talking about—that little visit he’d paid me in those few minutes when he was dead.

  “We’re taking it slow,” I told her and reminded myself. “Maybe one of these days—”

  “Of course you’re going to get back together!” Ella sounded so sure of herself. I didn’t know if this was good news, or bad. “Everything is going to work out perfectly. I just wish…”

  Her voice trailed off, while her gaze wandered away. I knew Quinn’s and my relationship wasn’t the only thing that would take some time to work through. Ella didn’t have the guilt to carry around, not like the other kids did, but she had memories. And regrets.

  “I know I can’t change anything,” she said. “But if I could…” She giggled, uncomfortable with the thought of playing fast and loose with the past. “If I could change one thing…I mean one thing other than Lucy getting murdered…I would…well, it’s going to sound crazy…”

  Again she glanced my way, and when I didn’t jump right in and agree with her, she went on. “I wish I would have said good-bye to Lucy that night. We were right here. On a rapid car a lot like this one.” She glanced all around. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, the train was just about empty. Ella looked back over her shoulder. “I was sitting right about here, too. About this close to the door. And Lucy was next to me. And when I got up to get off the train, she wanted to come along. I wish I would have let her. I wish I would have stopped long enough to say good-bye. I wish—”

  I wasn’t surprised to see the golden shimmer in the aisle next to Ella. I was surprised, though, to realize that she must have seen it. And pleased, too. After all, this was the chance I was hoping for when I insisted we take a train ride after the funeral.

  When Lucy appeared out of nowhere, Ella’s mouth dropped open and she clutched a hand to her throat.

  “Hey, Little One, you’re the best sister anybody could ever have,” Lucy told her. “And you don’t have to worry about saying good-bye. You’ve been doing that all these years. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be at peace now.” The rapid pulled into a station, the doors slid open, and sparkling, Lucy got off.

  When I looked at Ella again, there were tears on her cheeks.

  “What is it?” I asked, because let’s face it, if I did
n’t, she might suspect I’d seen what had just gone on, and I couldn’t let that happen.

  A grin like the spring sunshine outside split her face. “Oh, Pepper,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you!”

  By the next week, life had settled down into the old familiar routine. Summer was right around the corner and there was lots to do at Garden View. As always, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to any of it, but hey, I was feeling pretty mellow. The bad guys were in jail where bad guys belonged, and though it was a long shot, the real-life CSI-types were taking apart that classic car of Darren’s, looking for traces of Lucy in the trunk. Between what they might find there, the Saint Andrew’s medal, and the evidence they were testing and retesting from Janice’s office, it looked like ol’ Darren had bigger things to worry about than just that building of his coming down.

  But that wasn’t the end of the good news. I told Lucy’s family that I thought there might be an original copy of “Girl at Dawn” in with all the old things of hers they’d kept, and they were busy sorting through things. Patrick Monroe was about to be exposed.

  I mean, in a good way.

  Will was getting much-needed help, Quinn was on the mend, Ariel was no longer dogging my steps, and Ella was as sparkly as those crazy beaded earrings she always wore.

  Life was good, and I intended to celebrate it by hiding out in my office and drinking a diet iced tea before I plunged into preparing for a tour I had scheduled for the next day.

  Which explains why I was a little perplexed when I walked into my office and found Ella already in there. She was crying.

  My good mood dissolved in a flash. “Now what?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it. “Don’t tell me somebody else has been murdered.”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that.” Ella was the only person I knew who still carried around those old-fashioned cloth handkerchiefs. She pulled one out of her pocket—it was purple with pink flowers—and dabbed it to her eyes. “Oh, Pepper!” she wailed.

  I knew better than to try to get anything out of her when she was this upset, so I sat down behind my desk, sipped my tea, and waited while she dabbed and sniffed.

  “You know I think of you as one of my own girls,” she said. “You’re smart and you’re clever, and honest to goodness, I don’t know how or why it always happens, but you’ve got a way of getting involved in puzzles and figuring them out, too. You’re wonderful, Pepper.”

  There didn’t seem to be much else to say besides, “Thank you.”

  “And you know I don’t want to be doing this. In fact, Jim wanted to tell you, but I insisted. I mean, not like I want to tell you or anything, but…” A fresh cascade of tears erupted, and this time, a little dabbing wasn’t enough. She wiped and blew her nose.

  “You know we’ve been involved in some cost-cutting measures, right? And I know you’ve done your part and—”

  “If this means pulling more staples out of old newsletters, I’m your man!” I wasn’t, of course. In fact, I fully intended to do all I could to avoid the job, but at least if I agreed, Ella might stop crying.

  “It’s not that,” she said. She pulled herself to her feet. “It’s just that…well, really, Pepper, I’m not sure how to say it so I’m just going to say it. You know I love you and I admire you and—”

  “And?” I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Ella, what is it?”

  “Pepper,” she sniffled, “We’ve got to cut costs, and you’re our only full-time tour guide, and…and…Pepper, I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but you’re fired.”

 

 

 


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