by Jade Astor
“Maybe that’s because Brother Lew intercepted them at the edge of the woods and chased them with his club. Whoever it was overpowered him, broke the stick against the ground or a tree, and stabbed him with it.” Darian felt ill as he imagined the horrific scene. “Then they got scared ran off when they realized they’d killed Brother Lew. They never made it this far in.”
“Possible,” Argo conceded. “Here’s another question to consider. Would Victor be relieved to have Brother Lew away from his property?”
Darian’s temper flared. He should have known their easy conversation was too good to be true. Argo had an ulterior motive all along. “You’re determined to pin this on Victor, aren’t you?”
“Seems to me you’ve got things backward.” Argo raised a brow in that supercilious way Darian had once found sexy but now found annoying and condescending. Funny how fast things changed. “You’re just as eager to believe he had nothing to do with it—with or without any evidence beyond his say-so. Which, may I add, is absolutely not proof in any sense of the word I recognize?”
“It must suck to be so judgmental all the time. Suspicious of everyone.”
“It’s my job. If it wasn’t, I could end up dead.”
“Like your Uncle Rod, you mean. He trusted the wrong people. Okay, I accept that. But I don’t think—in fact, I know—you’re not suspicious of Victor because of what happened at Birchwood all those years ago.”
That got Argo’s attention. His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just going to come out with it. You hate him because you see a friendship developing between him and me.”
“A friendship, huh? Is that the way he would describe it, too?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care right now. That’s not the issue. Before you get yourself worked into a lather, just remember this: you’re the one who pushed me away. You might want to think about that before you fantasize about sending Victor to prison for the rest of his life.”
Argo’s nostrils flared. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Everything’s so easy for you, isn’t it? So straightforward.”
“Easy? You’re calling the last few days easy? Fat lot of gratitude you’ve shown me for saving your life, by the way. I fling myself on a gunman to prevent him from shooting your ass, and in return I get dumped. After you bring your sister down to pow-wow about it while I sit at home like one of my students on suspension from class.”
“You think that….” Argo’s anger drained away as he started to respond, but his words trailed off. No wonder, Darian thought. What could he possibly say with the facts laid out in front of him like that? Argo cleared his throat. “Okay, then. I see you’ve got it all worked out to your own satisfaction. I’ve seen all I need to here. We can go back to the house now.”
Their second journey through the woods proved even less amiable than the first one. Back at the house, they found everyone waiting in the sitting room. They looked as rapt as an audience watching a stage play unfold. Victor stood up and crossed the room to meet them.
“Well? Did you find anything useful?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss details,” Argo said. “But I’m going to ask you and your guests to stay out of the woods until I say different.”
“No worries there,” Sandra remarked.
“I want to claim his body when you’re done with it…with him. I plan to handle all the funeral arrangements and expenses,” Victor announced. Darian felt proud of him until he realized Victor might, after all, be acting out of remorse for his own actions. He couldn’t entirely dismiss the uncertainty Argo had sparked in his mind.
“In the case of a suspected homicide, that could take a while. But I’ll pass the information along to the people in charge of that sort of thing,” Argo assured him.
“Sheriff,” Logan spoke up, “should we be worried? Is there some violent maniac running loose on Victor’s estate?”
“That remains to be seen,” Argo said on his way out. “Obviously, I would suggest everyone be as careful as possible. I’d also appreciate it if none of you left town.”
“We won’t,” Logan assured him. “We’re filming a movie here, remember?”
Argo turned back. “Oh, yeah. Remind me of what the plot’s about? Some guy going berserk and killing his brother?”
“His rival in love,” Victor clarified, glaring at Argo with a cold smile.
Argo gave him a mock salute. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Great,” Sandra said when he was gone. “You sure picked the perfect setting for your horror flick, Logan. This place is giving me the creeps. I’m beginning to think we should just bag the whole thing.”
“What?” Logan cried. “No way. Just think of publicity! In fact, one of us ought to start blogging about this right now. We could never buy this kind of advertising. We need to make the most of it while we can!”
“Besides,” Jamie added, “we can’t leave town. Didn’t you hear him?”
“This isn’t a cop shows on TV,” Wes griped. “I’d like to see them stop us if we all decided to scram.”
“We’re not going to do that, of course.” Logan raised his voice, silencing the rest of them. “We have a film to finish, remember? I can’t believe we’ve lost the entire morning already. Why don’t we all take an hour, get our heads together, and pick up where we left off?”
“We’re going to film today after all this?” Chuck asked, amazed.
“Of course. Why not? We didn’t have anything to do with it, and there’s nothing we can do besides. Victor’s upset, naturally, but he’ll get over it faster if he has something to do. Don’t you agree, Victor?”
But Victor wasn’t listening. “He thinks I did it, doesn’t he?” Victor asked, raking his hand through his hair.
“I’m sure he’s keeping an open mind,” Jamie said. “If you didn’t do it, you have nothing to worry about. Emphasis on the word ‘if.’”
“Don’t give me that,” Victor snapped. He swung around to face Darian, who had to force himself not to jump backward. “It came up when you two were alone, didn’t it? He’s dying to lay this on me.”
“Would he have good reason, Victor?” Sandra asked. “Come on. You’re among friends here. You can tell us.”
“Maybe it was self-defense,” Wes suggested. “For instance, you confronted him about attacking Darian and things got out of control. It might make sense, depending on the context.”
“You should come clean if you know anything,” Chuck said.
“Of course not!” Victor blew up. “What the hell is wrong with you people? You know I wouldn’t kill Brother Lew. I’ve known him my whole life. He was part of this estate! My responsibility!”
“But he was weird—crazy—dangerous. Extenuating circumstances,” Logan said.
“Save it for your next script,” Victor huffed. He whirled around and stomped upstairs.
“See you in an hour,” Logan called.
In Victor’s wake, the room began to buzz with speculation and gossip. Darian barely heard any of it, though. As he watched Logan and Jamie chatter excitedly with their friends, a disturbing thought flickered through his mind.
Like the ill-fated proposal—which seemed to have no significant effect on Jamie and Logan’s relationship, Brother Lew’s murder might very well give Logan’s film a visibility boost. He hated to imagine that Logan, or any of the old friends Victor seemed to trust and care for so deeply, would pull a heinous stunt like that. But who hadn’t heard of people doing far worse for the sake of their art or to gain media attention?
Did Logan put up with Jamie’s histrionics because in the end, they didn’t affect him too much? Had their argument in front of the fireplace been staged? Was Logan secretly just as cold-hearted as Jamie?
The two might be partners in just more than life and filmmaking. They might also be partners in crime.
Chapter 11
“We managed to shoot a few more scenes,” Darian told his moms that eve
ning, after he’d finally managed to break free and drive home. He’d been wearing the same clothes for almost forty-eight hours. It felt good to pitch them into the laundry basket and take a long, hot shower. Afterward, he’d raided his fridge for the last few edible items it contained and sat down at the table to make another phone call he dreaded. Surprisingly, Rikki and Ange seemed to take it in stride that he’d stumbled across another body. Granted, it was becoming almost a monthly occurrence, like paying the electric bill. “All of us were on edge, but we did the best we could.”
“It must have been very difficult for Victor,” Ange observed. “You said he’d known this unfortunate soul since his childhood.”
“That’s right. He did take it pretty hard.” Several times during the long afternoon, Darian saw Victor holding back tears. He had kept to himself more than usual, studying his script in a chair in the corner. “He’s probably calling his mother about now, too, so he can break the news to her.” That was one of the reasons, if not the main one, that Victor hadn’t objected to Darian leaving Reece Hall for the night. No doubt he had needed some time to regroup as much as Darian did.
“That’s bound to be a difficult call,” Rikki said. Then Darian heard a muffled thump, as though she had placed a hand over the phone. Darian knew what that meant. He waited while his two moms conferred on the other end of the line. Finally Rikki came back. “So, Darian…Ange and I are wondering if anyone acted suspicious when you all got back to work. Like they knew more about Brother Lew’s death than they were willing to let on.”
“What? Are you two playing detective all the way from Florida?”
“We just want to make sure you’re not in any danger in that house,” Ange said. “It’s doesn’t seem like Argo is doing enough to prevent another incident.”
“I’m sure he’s doing the best he can,” Darian hedged.
“Which is more or less my point,” Ange said.
After he said goodbye, Darian considered their question more carefully. As far as he could tell, Victor’s colleagues had behaved more or less the way he had expected—Victor quietly grieving, Wes immersed in his character, Sandra busy instructing Darian about the makeup and organizing the costumes. Yet now that he thought about it, a few anomalies surfaced. Chuck remained as silent as a statue while he fiddled with his cameras, lights, and filters, barely responding when anyone spoke to him. Logan had been short-tempered, accepting no excuses for muffed lines or missed cues. In stark contrast, Jamie was all business for a change, approaching his performance with newfound determination and even sincerity. He wasn’t without talent, Darian realized, when he put some effort into the task at hand.
Still, what reason would any of them have to kill Brother Lew? Even if he had been the one to trash Jamie’s room—or had observed someone else doing it—murder seemed an extreme form of retaliation. Was there any other secret Brother Lew might have uncovered? One worth killing for?
Unable to occupy his mind with anything else, Darian turned on his computer and ran some searches on Reece Hall and, specifically, the monastery that had once thrived in its shadow. Victor’s account had been accurate as far as he could tell. Twelve monks had once shared the modest space he and Argo had examined. While in residence, the brothers passed the time and supported their community by making wines, jams, and maple syrup using products they gathered or cultivated themselves. Eventually, the older monks died off and the others, unable to recruit new members, disbanded and relocated. Brother Lew, about whom he could find no information online, had apparently been the last of them. Most likely he had never been an official member of the community, owing to his mental limitations. For whatever reason, when the others left, he stayed behind.
A sad story with a tragic end, Darian mused. All things considered, he still leaned toward a malevolent trespasser as the most likely culprit. Brother Lew’s misguided mission to protect Victor’s house and property had cost his life.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He blinked in disbelief when he opened it. Had he nodded off at the keyboard?
“Can I come in?” Argo asked. Even at this late hour, he was still in uniform, the sling nestled under his brown sheriff’s department jacket. Darian had no doubt he’d been working since he’d first shown up at Reece Hall early that morning. Knowing Argo, he hadn’t even stopped for lunch. “I need to talk to you some more about this Brother Lew thing.”
Darian sighed. He’d known better than to expect a social call. “Sure,” he said, stepping aside.
Argo strode into the living room and plunked down on the sofa, the way he had done so many times before. It had been a long time since Darian had thought of him as a guest. Lately, he’d been more like part of the house. The center of his home. Now he was back in the role of a stranger visiting, and a somewhat hostile one at that. He cradled his sling with his free hand as he got comfortable.
“I’ve got some new information,” Argo blurted. “I want to hear your take on it.”
“Really?” Just like that, Darian’s heart lifted. Argo was confiding in him? A promising development for sure. “Go ahead.”
“If anyone asks, I’ll deny telling you, but it’s something you could have found on your own—if you’d cared to look into it, at least. It’s about Victor’s time at Birchwood.”
So they were back to Victor again. He might have known. His mood deflating, Darian took the chair opposite Argo. “What about it?”
“Did he tell you much about his time there? While the two of you were chitchatting at Into the Woods, maybe?”
“No. Not really. He only attended for a year, he said. What would there be to tell?”
Argo blew out a frustrated breath. “I ran a background check on him.”
“Of course you did.” Darian couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“I’m sure you realize it’s routine in these cases. We found a body in the man’s backyard, after all.”
“Okay, you’re right.” Darian softened his tone. “I’m sorry. Go on.”
“You’re right that he didn’t stay at Birchwood all four years. In fact, he left in the middle of his sophomore year. He probably didn’t admit that he left under a cloud. His mother had to pull some strings to get him transferred quietly.” Argo grimaced. “Helps to have money. Most regular kids would have been expelled. Maybe even sued.”
“Really? What happened?”
“He was accused of bullying another student until the other kid broke down. They sent him to the infirmary until they could make sure Victor and his blue-blooded cronies would leave him alone. That included getting Victor out of school altogether. Word is, his mother paid the other kid’s parents off so they wouldn’t press charges on Victor. Yep, it was really that bad.”
Darian felt his face get hot. Argo’s smug manner annoyed him, but the revelation disturbed him even more. Having been on the receiving end of school bullying more than a few times, Darian couldn’t ignore the implication.
“He was a kid,” he said, knowing how lame he sounded. It was the same excuse adults had given him when he complained about being taunted or pushed around for being the kid with two lesbo mothers. Youth might excuse bad judgment, but never cruelty. “His past doesn’t prove anything about this current situation.
“Sure, I get that,” Argo said. “I just wanted you to be aware. Believe it or not, I’m telling you for your own good.”
“Well, thank you for telling me.” Darian started to get up from his chair. “Is that it?”
Argo didn’t move. “No. I also wanted to urge you not to go back to that house. You now know Victor’s not the person you once thought he was. Who’s to say the other people staying there aren’t even worse?”
“Come on, Argo. You drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to ask Victor about his side of it? You don’t know me very well, do you? But then, I’d sort of figured that out already.”
“Okay, then. You’re right. I overstepped. But I felt I needed to tell you, and now I’v
e done that. So I’ll consider my duty toward you fulfilled.” Argo waved his good hand between them and then dropped it into his lap. “Damn it, Darian. I don’t want us to interact this way every time we meet.”
“I don’t either.”
“You can believe what you want, but I’m telling you I don’t have any agenda here besides figuring out what happened to poor Brother Lew.”
“I believe you,” Darian said softly. He was grateful for a change to change the subject, and took it. “Did you find out any more about him? Who he really was, and why he stayed there alone all these years?”
Argo, too, seemed relieved to talk about something else. “A little. The M.E. took Brother Lew’s fingerprints, which is standard procedure, and uploaded them into the system. We’ll see if we get any hits. Besides that, I did some digging and found a guy from the original order who’s now at another monastery in the Berkshires. I’ve contacted the place to see if he can help.”
“How did you contact them?” Darian asked, curious.
“How else? Email. It might take a while, though I’m not sure if monks use the Internet.”
Darian nodded. He pictured the brothers writing with quills and sending missives by courier, but most likely they had some access to technology these days. “I can’t imagine living my whole life as a monk. Imagine being 90 years old and never…well, you know.”
“Yeah. That’s a lot to miss out on.” He saw Argo stifle a grin. Then he got serious again. “You almost have to admire Brother Lew. He was different from everyone else, but stuck to his values. Did his own thing.”
Darian nodded. “And he definitely didn’t deserve what happened to him, even if he did get a little carried away defending his territory.”
Argo’s cool gaze sharpened, almost as if he had been waiting for Darian to bring that up. He leaned forward, cradling his sling again. “You said he attacked you in Victor’s driveway. Is there anything else you want to tell me about that? Anything you forgot to mention before?”
“No.” Darian winced. “Like I said before, I startled him and he lashed out at me. He was frightened. Victor chased him off and that was it. Just a misunderstanding.”