Opal Fire

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Opal Fire Page 19

by Barbra Annino


  We scanned the room. The options were to hide beneath the desk or in the filing cabinet.

  I dragged Cin to the left of the door and smashed her against the wall with my body right before Kirk walked in.

  We each held our breath as he crossed to the cabinet, unlocked a drawer in the dark and said, “Where the hell is it?”

  He must have hit the answering machine then because I heard Gus’s voice. When Gus said, “We’ll find out who did it,” Kirk grunted and said, “Sure you will.”

  I caught my own reflection in the window pane just as Kirk lifted his head and looked right at me.

  CHAPTER 25

  Kirk screamed and rubbed his eyes. I hit the floor and Cin wiggled closer to the doorjamb. I managed to crawl around and crouched behind there with her.

  When Kirk braved another view through the window, the floating head he had seen (me) was gone.

  “Jesus,” he panted, clutching his chest. “I have to get the hell out of here.” He searched a bit longer before he gave up and mumbled, “Must be at home.”

  I wondered what ‘it’ was as he shut the door behind him.

  Cinnamon and I both held our breath longer than we needed to.

  “You think he’s gone?” she asked.

  “I hope so.”

  We slipped out the same way we came in and ran down the alley.

  “Did you grab the photo?” I asked when we were on our way back home.

  “In my pocket.” Cinnamon stopped walking and grabbed my arm. “Oh my God, Stacy,” she said.

  “What, what? Are you okay?” I searched her face.

  Her eyes lit up. “I just remembered where I saw that necklace!”

  “Where?” Cin’s enthusiasm spilled over to me.

  “The Opal. There’s a photo collage of events and various customers from over the years. It’s tacked up behind the bar. I don’t know who was wearing it, but I just remember thinking I thought the design was unusual so it stuck in my mind.” She nodded. “I’m certain of it now. You know how it is when you see the same thing every day so you just don’t pay any attention to it? I think that’s why I couldn’t place it before.”

  “Let’s go,” I said to Cinnamon.

  All of Amethyst was asleep. The bars and restaurants were closed. Shop windows dark, businesses tucked in for the night. Except for the wind that occasionally swept the sidewalks, the streets were bare and quiet. We hurried past the lamplights, crossed Main Street and started for the rear of the Black Opal.

  Cinnamon approached the door as I scanned the street. No sign of life.

  “Dammit!”

  “What’s wrong Cin?”

  “Look.” She stepped aside and I saw the problem.

  The backdoor was boarded up.

  I glanced at the crowbar in my hand and looked at Cin.

  “First you want me to bust into city hall. Now I’m supposed to break into my own bar? Is that it?” She jutted out her hip and rested her hand on it.

  I shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  Cin sighed and took the crowbar from me. The first nail pop was loud, but the others extracted smoothly and we were inside within minutes. The back door hung from the hinges, the lock destroyed when the firefighters barreled through.

  I paused.

  “Stacy, come on.”

  “I just thought of something.”

  “What?”

  “We could have checked to see if the front door was unlocked.”

  Cin lifted her ski mask and said, “I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that.”

  We crept through the maze of tables and chairs, making our way to the front of the building. Cinnamon had yet to hire a cleanup crew since the insurance company delayed her claim. I suspected after Fiona’s encouragement, Smalls would come through soon.

  The photo collage was displayed to the right of the mirror behind the bar. Cinnamon gave me the photo from Kirk’s office and I went to check out the ones on the wall.

  Cin muttered. “Damn door is open.” She leaned the crowbar near it.

  I quickly scanned the pictures and removed my sweatshirt and the necklace, setting it on the bar next to the photo of Kirk. It was an old picture and it looked to be cut. There was definitely something around his neck.

  The photo collage didn’t appear to be arranged in any particular order. They were jumbled all together on a large white poster board and from the looks of some of the faded prints; it had been a work in progress as long as Mr. Huckleberry ran the place. There were shots of Scully, Cinnamon, Uncle Deck, Tommy, some tourists and various other familiar faces. In the center was Leo, in uniform. I leaned in for a closer look. He too was wearing something around his neck. I gasped and yanked the photo from the wall.

  “You got it?”

  “Maybe. I need a magnifying glass.”

  “I think there’s one in the register,” she said.

  Upon closer inspection, there was the distinct shape of a black cross in both pictures. The same kind that now lay on the Black Opal bar. Was this a costume party? Policeman’s ball? I flipped the pictures over. No dates.

  I looked up to ask Cin a question and saw a silhouette.

  “Cinnamon, lock the door!”

  “I’m on it,” she said just as Kirk walked in.

  My mind was racing, trying to connect all the dots. Kirk, Leo, Kathy—none of it made sense.

  Kirk gave a little chuckle and said, “So, I guess it was the two of you in my office.” He crossed his arms.

  Cinnamon took a step backwards. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Me either,” I said.

  He pointed towards both of us. “So the ski masks, then, just a coincidence?”

  We nodded.

  “Look ladies, I have had a helluva a day, so just hand it over and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Hand what over?” I asked.

  “Don’t play games. I know you were snooping for the bids, but I think you snatched something else by mistake, so just give it back to me and we’ll forget all about the B&E.”

  “We didn’t take anything,” I said.

  Kirk rubbed his forehead. “Okay, I’ll play. It has four sharp edges and a date on it.”

  What had a date on it? Was he talking about the necklace?

  “Where’s my cruise ticket?” Kirk walked up to the bar and looked at the necklace.

  Did he just say cruise ticket? Leo bought a cruise ticket.

  Did Leo know Kathy? But he would have just been a kid.

  Kirk touched the cross and said, “Wow. I haven’t seen this since...” He halted his words and met my stare. “Where did you get this?”

  He recognized it. So it was his!

  My eyes landed on Cinnamon. She tensed, sensing the danger. Crap. Crap. Crap. I flicked my gaze to the crowbar in the corner and back to Cinnamon. She creased her brow, not understanding. I concentrated, trying to send her a telepathic message. Which really only works in the movies.

  Kirk slammed his hand down and said, “Tell me where you found this.”

  People don’t always make the smartest choices under duress. Looking back, I suppose I could have handled things differently and perhaps that night, Cin and I would have both slept in our own beds.

  Of course, I’ll never know for sure.

  “I found it in the basement here. After the fire,” I said.

  Cin shot me a look that said, now is not the time for honesty.

  Kirk looked from Cinnamon back to me. No one moved. I made a quick phone signal to Cin and she shook her head. She didn’t have it. I had left mine at Angelica’s house. Shit. I wondered if the phone in the bar was working.

  Then again, who would I call—Leo?

  “Well, it’s a very nice necklace,” Kirk said and stepped back. “Now about my ticket?”

  “Sorry, Kirk, we don’t have your ticket,” I said. “But don’t you need to make arrangements for Eddie? Seems like an odd time to leave town.”

  Cin groaned and put he
r head in her hands.

  Kirk shifted his stance. “People deal with grief in different ways. Lots of people get away after the loss of loved one.” He stared at me hard. “You of all people should know that, Stacy.”

  That stung to my very core. “We don’t have your ticket. You can leave now,” I said. “Unless you want to finish off what you started. You know, burn the rest of the place down.”

  “Stacy...” Cin said, her voice on edge.

  “Excuse me?” Kirk said.

  “I know all about it, Kirk. The kid, the bribe.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  I continued. “Chip was here on Thursday, planning to sneak in and steal some booze before Cinnamon opened up. No one was supposed to be here.” I paused to let that sink in and to organize my lie. “He saw the guy’s face before the match was ever lit. He was pretty scared this afternoon when he told us the story, but we finally convinced him to tell the investigators what he saw. He’s giving a statement as we speak.”

  Kirk looked at me, my expression solid. Then he turned to Cin who nodded.

  Kirk bowed his head and whispered, “Eddie.”

  Eddie? Cinnamon shot a curious look in Kirk’s direction.

  So Kirk sent his little brother to do his dirty work? I couldn’t think of a more disgusting betrayal. How dare he take advantage of his brother?

  To my amazement Kirk slumped into a bar stool and a small sob escaped him.

  “It’s all my fault.” He stared at the floor as the words poured from him. “It was supposed to look like an electrical fire. After the inspection, I was going to do it.” A tear sloped down his cheek. “But Tommy never left the room, so I couldn’t. Then I went to plan B. I sent Eddie because I was running out of time. It had to be done, but I couldn’t get in here to do the job.” He looked up. “No one was supposed to be here.” He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Neither of you were supposed to be here. Leo mentioned some family celebration.” He wiped his arms on his sleeve. “No one was supposed to get hurt.”

  Leo. How could he? Why would he?

  “So the fire, the arson. It was all to cover up the body buried in the wall and Kathy’s murder?” Cinnamon said.

  He lifted his gaze. “What? No! There was no murder. Kathy’s death was an accident.” He shook his head as if that would convince us.

  “No. It wasn’t, Kirk,” I said. She had ligature marks on her neck.”

  Kirk sat back and stared in the mirror. “No.” His words were careful, thoughtful. “That’s not true.” His jaw cracked and his voice grew steady, tears drying up. He stood, angry. “It was an accident, but we had to hide her.”

  “Listen to me, Kirk. It was no accident. The girl was strangled and she was pregnant at the time of her death.”

  “What?” Kirk stood up and shook his head. “You’re nuts. It was an accident, that’s all. She fell and hit her head. But no one would have believed it. What good would it have done to ruin two lives? The girl was already dead.”

  My anger broke and I didn’t think before I blurted out. “I suppose Mr. Sagnoski was an accident? And your brother? Was he an accident too?”

  Before I could react, Kirk lunged at me across the bar, both hands squeezing my throat, cutting off my airway.

  Cinnamon jumped on Kirk’s back and I struggled to reach for a booze bottle to hit him with. I pointed behind Cinnamon, to remind her of the crowbar in the corner.

  She understood that time and turned to retrieve it.

  The world grew hazy as my lungs lost oxygen. This was it. Now I would die the same way Kathy had. I briefly wondered if my father would meet me before my legs lifted off the floor.

  Somewhere between this world and the other, shots cracked through the night. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth as my head slammed on the hard wood.

  CHAPTER 26

  I blinked twice, just to make sure I was still alive.

  Kirk’s hands were no longer roped around my neck. My head felt like a hundred pounds as I peeled it off the hard oak.

  The Mayor stood in the doorframe, a gun in his hand. “You all right, Miss Justice?”

  “Yes. I think so.” I rubbed my neck and inhaled all the air I could.

  From the amount of blood oozing from his head, I suspected Kirk wasn’t going to make his cruise.

  “Cinnamon? Cin,” I croaked.

  She gave no response.

  I ran around the bar to find my cousin, my best friend, motionless on the floor, a liquid red fanning out from her hair. Either she fell on a shard of glass, which still lay everywhere from the fire, or a bullet hit her.

  “Oh my God. Cinnamon!” I dropped to my knees, panic elevating my heartbeat.

  “Don’t touch her! Go call for help.” The Mayor rushed forward as I dashed back behind the bar and reached for the phone, reciting under my breath the lesson I had read that afternoon about calling forth the spirit guides from the Blessed Book.

  “To all who have gone before, once loved, now lost, heed my call.”

  I picked up the receiver.

  “Spirits of the Summerland, one and all.”

  There was no dial tone.

  My voice grew in intensity. “To those that left us too soon and lost souls of the departed.”

  I clicked the receiver a few times, my voice getting louder. “The Watchtowers come forth, help me finish what I started.”

  “Put the phone down, Miss Justice,” the Mayor said. “It appears to not be working.”

  I hung up and said, “Do you have a cell phone?”

  When I turned, I was staring into the barrel of a gun.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He had flipped over both photographs. His hand was on the photograph of Leo. That’s when I noticed it was cut too. And the pair seemed to fit together as if it had been one photo, cut in two.

  The Mayor’s face twitched for a moment, then relaxed.

  The photos fit together, but that was a much younger Kirk and Leo looked to be the same age.

  But how was that possible. Unless…

  God, how could I have been so stupid!

  Before he even said it, I knew.

  “You thought that was Leo in the photograph, didn’t you?”

  Shit. They really looked eerily alike.

  He laughed.

  “It’s not that funny,” I said.

  “Well, it is, but no matter. You would have looked at it in a better light and realized that it was me in that old picture. I noticed the necklace around your neck when you popped into my nephew’s office. I thought you might connect the dots sooner or later.” He clicked his tongue. “So where did you find it? I looked all over for it when Kirk said he had lost his.”

  I didn’t answer him. Instead I said, “Please, Cinnamon is hurt. She had no part in this, I promise you. You can’t just let my cousin lay there and die.”

  “I’ll call for help as soon as I take care of you.”

  That was less than comforting.

  “Like you took care of Kathy?”

  “I made Kathy happy. But she got greedy. Careless.”

  “So you killed her.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Sure it was. That’s what you told your friend, wasn’t it? That’s how you got Kirk to agree to help you.”

  The Mayor smiled at me with disgust. “A partner would do anything for a fellow officer. Men are like that.”

  Partner? Kirk was the Mayor’s partner on the force?

  “Watchtowers of the north, come forth...” I said.

  “Stop that. No one can help you now, Miss Justice. Although I must admit, I’ve tried every method of scaring you into submission. But nothing frightens you.”

  “Actually, that gun in your hand has me a little jumpy.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded.

  The Mayor made a tsk tsk sound. “You should have just taken that trip. I knew Kirk wouldn’t need the ticket.”

  “I freckle.”<
br />
  The Mayor frowned. “And what was it you told my nephew? You couldn’t just walk away?”

  “That too.”

  “Yes, Kathy had the same attitude. Didn’t get her far, did it?”

  “Watchtowers of the south, come out,” I said.

  “Okay, that’s giving me a headache, now.”

  “Watchtowers of the east, come meet.”

  “You honestly think this chanting will save you?”

  It was worth a shot.

  “Come out from behind that bar,” he said.

  “No way, you fucking psycho.”

  The Mayor’s jaw went hard. “Fine. I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

  “And how will you explain that?”

  He thought a minute. “My good friend Kirk pulled the trigger on you, then turned the gun on himself. The guilt was too much.”

  I considered the angle of the trajectory and where Kirk had been hit. That might actually work.

  “That won’t work,” I said.

  “Of course it will.”

  “Watchtowers of the west, confess.”

  “I have had enough of you.”

  The Mayor cocked the gun and I yanked the soda gun out and fired a stream of coke in his face. It threw his balance off and landed square in his eye. Then the liquid slowed and trickled to a halt. I looked at the handle. Damn! There must have been only a little left in the hose. The fire fighters probably disconnected the CO2.

  “God dammit!” The Mayor said as he wiped his face. He aimed at me again. This time, I knew he wouldn’t miss. I hunted for something to throw at him but a lot of the bottles were already smashed.

  My fingers found a mixing tin and I fired that off. It bounced off his chest as he squeezed off another shot. I bobbed and weaved, but the bullet punctured my shoulder, ripping my flesh. I scrambled for more ammunition as the Mayor positioned for a clean shot. I tossed everything I could get my hands on. Napkin holder. Straws. Salt and pepper shakers. Pour spouts. My last hope was a giant jar of brandied cherries at the end of the bar.

  Before I could nail him with it, the Mayor turned his gun away from me.

  I stopped. I knew what he was pointing at.

  “She can live. Or she can die,” he said casually.

  Cinnamon.

 

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