by V. M. Burns
“I hope you two ladies haven’t had lunch yet.”
We acknowledged that we hadn’t eaten.
“Great. I thought about flowers but decided food might be more practical.”
The spread he brought looked delicious. There was clam chowder and chicken salad, two of my favorites, and a single rose. “Hmm . . . clam chowder is my favorite. How did you know?”
He smiled. “You mentioned it last night. I had to get up early to get to the market to get the clams or I would have been by earlier.”
“I can’t believe you went to so much trouble.”
“No trouble at all.”
“But there are only two servings?”
He laughed. “How hungry are you?”
I smiled. “Aren’t you going to join us?”
“I wish I could, but I’ve got to get back to the restaurant. Lunch is my busiest time and one of my cooks called out today.” He looked disappointed. “Rain check?”
I smiled. “Definitely, and thank you.”
He hurried off and Nana Jo and I ate in shifts. However, the arrival of the food helped to eliminate the tension between us.
The only event of note was a text message I received from Emma in the afternoon asking if I would be on campus anytime in the near future. I responded that I was going to be on campus by five thirty and arranged to meet her at the student union.
The rest of the afternoon we worked in a companionable silence. When it was time to leave, I gave Nana Jo a hug.
“What’s that for?”
“Because I love you and I appreciate your help and everything you do.”
She squeezed me. “I love you too and I’m proud of you, regardless of your taste in men.”
“Why don’t you like Harley?”
She shook her head. “I don’t trust him. Something isn’t right with him.”
I thought about that for a moment. “I know. I feel it too, but then I’m not planning to marry him. We’re just going to dinner and then touring the Purnell mansion.”
“The Purnell mansion? You mean that mausoleum built by the House of David?”
I nodded. “I’m not excited about it either, but Harley’s writing a book about the House of David and that’s where he wants to go.”
“Hmm . . . what about what you want?”
I laughed. “I thought you’d be glad I was actually going on a date.”
“I am proud of you, but I also don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I gave her another squeeze. “Honestly, I don’t care about him like that. I’m flattered, but . . . that’s it. Besides, it’s just one date. I’ll be fine.” I pulled my purse strap onto my shoulder. “I better get out of here. I’ll see you later.”
Driving my new SUV put a smile on my face. I loved the light coming through the sunroof, the satellite radio, and the gauge that told me how many miles until empty. Today, I was disappointed by how quickly the drive to MISU was from downtown. I parked away from other vehicles and walked to the student union with a joyful heart.
Inside, Emma and Zaq sat together in a booth. They were sharing an order of onion rings and laughing with their heads together. I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to interrupt the moment.
Eventually, Emma looked up and smiled. “There you are.”
I sat down and declined the onion rings they generously offered to share.
“I didn’t want to bother you, but Zaq said I should tell you about a couple of weird things that happened.”
“Of course you aren’t bothering me. You can talk to me anytime,” I said with sincerity. I learned long ago not to get attached to my nephews’ girlfriends. Just when I got to know them, they were gone, but I liked Emma. I hoped we could be friends, regardless of what happened between her and Zaq.
She smiled. “Well, first someone broke into my dorm room.”
“Are you okay? Was anything taken?”
“I wasn’t there and the only thing missing was my laptop, best I can figure. It happened on Sunday. Zaq and I went to the movies after the memorial.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Campus police. They filed a report but said I’d probably never see it again. Good thing I back up everything. Plus, I paid for insurance, so I got a replacement.” She patted her new MacBook.
“That’s strange, but it isn’t really that unusual. I think thefts are common on college campuses.”
“The weird thing isn’t that the laptop was stolen. The weird thing is that it was returned.”
“Returned? You mean the thief brought your laptop back?”
“Not exactly. They tossed it in a dumpster. It was kind of insulting, really, like my laptop wasn’t good enough for them or something.”
Zaq smiled. “I don’t think that’s it.” He looked at me. “I think they thought it was Melody’s, but when they looked through it, they saw it wasn’t.”
“What makes you think that?”
Zaq shrugged. “They didn’t take the television or the microwave or any of her jewelry. Plus, you guys had already packed up all of Melody’s stuff, but whoever broke in, opened all her drawers and cut open the mattress.”
“But only the one on Melody’s side of the room,” Emma added.
“Aunt Sammy, I think the burglar was looking for something.”
Emma’s phone vibrated. “That reminds me about the other thing.” She held up her cell. “I got another text from Melody’s sister.”
I read the screen.
“I tried to forward, but it wouldn’t let me. Zaq said she must have sent it so it couldn’t be forwarded.”
“Can someone do that?” I asked.
“Depends on their e-mail system, but yes. There are systems that prevent forwarding,” Zaq said.
The text said she thought whoever was trying to get in on Mel’s scam was someone she had been having an affair with.
“I guess this means Detective Pitt is right. It must be Virgil.”
“Didn’t Cassidy know Virgil? I thought you mentioned that at the memorial,” Emma said.
I nodded. “She did know Virgil.”
“Plus, Virgil was already in on the scam, wasn’t he?” Zaq asked.
I didn’t have answers. This was odd. I told them what Virgil told us the other night at the hospital.
I looked at my watch. “I better go. I’ve got to pick up Harley . . . ah, Professor Quin.”
Emma looked surprised. “Are you dating Professor Quin?”
“I wouldn’t call it dating. He’s helping me with some stuff for a book, being British and everything. How was your lab Monday night?” I asked.
“What lab?” Emma looked puzzled.
“I thought you had a lab Monday night for Professor Quin’s class.”
Emma shook her head. “Nope, in fact he cancelled class on Monday.”
Something in the look that passed between Zaq and Emma made me stop. “Why? What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Emma was a horrible liar. Her face turned red and she couldn’t make eye contact.
“You can tell me. I’m not in love with the guy. He’s cute, but . . . oh, I don’t know. There’s just something odd about him.”
Emma breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you aren’t serious about him. I think the guy is kind of creepy. He hits on his students, and there was a rumor he was having an affair with one of them.” Emma paused before making up her mind. “I think it was Melody.”
“Do you have any proof?”
“No.”
“Accusing a professor of having an affair with a student is serious business. You wouldn’t want to make an accusation like that without proof,” I cautioned. “But maybe I can ask him some questions tonight.”
“Be careful, Aunt Sammy,” Zaq said.
“I will. Don’t worry.”
Chapter 21
I met Harley outside his office.
“Is this a new car?”
I smiled. “Yes. I’ve only had it for two days.”
> “You should have gotten one of those new Land Rovers. They have tons more room in the back.” He proceeded to put his bicycle into the back of my new SUV. I tried not to grimace at the sight of the mud which dropped from the tires or the scratches he’d gotten on the molding.
“There’s a really lovely vegan restaurant down the road. Why don’t we grab a bite before we go to the mansion?” He tossed his backpack on the back seat and got in and fastened his seat belt.
I shook off the desire to tip my hat like a chauffeur and got in the car. I followed his directions and pulled into the parking lot of a very expensive restaurant which I’d heard mixed reviews about. The décor was extremely high-end. The service was awful. The food was beautifully plated, but the taste was average. Harley talked a lot and seemed very excited.
Near the end of the meal, he finally seemed to notice I hadn’t said much. “You’re very quiet tonight. Is anything the matter?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m fine.”
The waiter brought the bill and Harley sat very still. I, too, sat still. After an awkward few minutes, he smiled and pulled out his wallet. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring any cash with me.”
I smiled. “It says on the window they take credit cards. You do take credit cards, don’t you?” I asked the waiter.
He nodded.
Harley’s smile seemed forced, but he kept it plastered on. He looked back in his wallet and pulled out a Diner’s Club card.
The waiter frowned. “We take Visa, Master Card, Discover, and American Express. We don’t take Diner’s Club.”
Harley looked at me. “I’m afraid that’s the only card I have. Would you mind covering this one? The next meal is on me.” He smiled.
I wondered briefly what would happen if I claimed to have forgotten my wallet. However, the waiter loomed over my shoulder and I wasn’t up for making a mad dash to the car. Instead, I pulled out my credit card and promised myself this would be the last meal Professor Harley Quin would ever receive from me.
“Thanks, love.” He smiled.
I stared back. I hadn’t noticed before how crooked his teeth were.
Once the bill was taken care of, I drove to Purnell mansion. The mansion was over a hundred and ten years old and it looked every day of its age. I could imagine the building in its heyday was grand and beautiful, with a front porch that covered the entire front of the building, leaded glass windows, and ornately carved moldings. However, the paint had chipped away long ago. The floorboards of the porch sagged and there was evidence of termite damage around the outside.
Harley got out of the car and grabbed his backpack from the back seat and hurried up the sidewalk. He was halfway up on the porch before he seemed to realize I wasn’t behind him. He turned and looked at me. “You coming?”
Perhaps it was too much to expect him to open my door, but I couldn’t help comparing my experience with Frank Patterson. I don’t need someone to open doors for me, but it sure felt nice when they did. I sighed and got out of the car.
An older gentleman with a long white beard and thick glasses waited for us on the porch. He said his name was Josiah Templeton.
“You that young fella that called?” Josiah stared long and hard at Harley.
“Yes. I’m Harley Quin, and this is Mrs. Washington.”
I smiled and shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
He dragged his gaze away from Harley. He looked frail and his skin was almost translucent, but he smiled and patted my hand. “Don’t get a chance to see many pretty women.”
I smiled. “I’ll bet you say that to all the women.”
He laughed. “Don’t get much chance to anymore. Just a handful of us left these days.” He kept patting my hand. “I’ll be a hundred on Christmas Day.”
“You don’t look it,” I lied.
He stared at Harley again. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“I just have one of those faces.” Harley’s smile seemed strained. “Well, we appreciate you allowing us to tour the mansion, but . . .” He stared at Josiah with sympathy. “I’m afraid this tour might be a bit much for you, old boy. Look, why don’t you just give me the key and we’ll wander around and then I can lock everything up when I’m done.”
My eyes narrowed and I would have berated him for insensitivity, but Josiah said he didn’t mind and handed over the key. He pointed at a small building across the street. “I have a cottage over there to the right. Just drop the key in the mail slot.”
Harley promised to do so and hurriedly unlocked the door. “You coming?” He turned to me.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m going to make sure Josiah makes it home safely.”
“Fine.” Harley hurried inside.
I offered an arm to Josiah and, between me and his walking stick, he hoisted himself up.
“Thank you. If you just help me down to the bottom of the stairs, I’ll be fine from there. These old joints need a little boost to get going, but once I’m moving, you just watch my steam.”
We walked down the stairs slowly and I mentally cursed Harley for dragging this nice man out here just to tour an old house. At the bottom of the stairs, Josiah refused further assistance. I continued talking and made sure he made it safely to his cottage.
Once inside, he thanked me and I turned and made my way back to the mansion. I contemplated not entering, but I knew my defiant gesture would be wasted. Instead, I went inside.
“Hello? Harley, where are you?” I yelled from the foyer.
“I’m down here.”
I followed the voice past the elaborately carved staircase, high ceilings, and tapestries to a door that lead downstairs to the cellar. I was surprised, but thankful, the old house still looked relatively sturdy, although the cobwebs and musty smell indicated it had been many years since the house had been opened and aired.
In the cellar, I looked around and tried to ignore the creepy feeling there were more than spiders crawling around down there.
Harley was on his knees with a flashlight, studying the cinder block walls.
“What are you looking for down here?”
He continued scanning the walls. “Legend has it there were secret tunnels under this building.”
“You mean the tunnels where Benjamin Purnell allegedly abused young girls and conducted satanic rituals and where the commune stored his body in a hermetically sealed glass coffin?”
Growing up in North Harbor, these rumors were spread widely among North Harbor children, especially around Halloween.
Harley continued his search. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the glee in his voice. “Tunnels full of buried treasure.”
“Oh my God. You’re a treasure hunter.” I didn’t even try to keep the scorn out of my voice. This guy was a nutcase. I made up my mind to leave him there when my cell phone rang. It was Nana Jo. I’d barely gotten a word out when she started.
“Sam, you’ve gotta get away from that guy. He’s not what he claims to be. Frank had one of his friends at Scotland Yard investigate him, and he has a record. He was a grifter too. He lied about where he was from. There is no Deering Vale—”
I never got to hear what else she was going to say because Harley snatched the phone out of my hand. “Your grandmother has a big mouth.”
I stared as Harley Quin turned off my cell phone and put it in his pocket. “Deering Vale . . . Oh my goodness. I can’t believe I missed it. That’s a fictitious town Agatha Christie made up for The Mysterious Harley Quin.” I hit myself on the head with my palm. “Harley Quin? Oh my God, I can’t believe I missed that.”
He smiled smugly and pulled a gun from his pocket. “Now, what am I going to do with you?”
Something inside told me insulting him was a bad idea, but I didn’t listen. “You cheap murdering lowlife scumbag.”
He hauled off and struck me across the face. The blow was so hard it sent me flying into the wall. I hit my head on the doorjamb and fell to the ground. I must
have been knocked out for some time because when I came to, there was no light coming through the small basement windows.
I felt a kick in my side. “You awake?”
I groaned.
He leaned his face down within inches of mine. “Now, what am I going to do with you?”
I had a few ideas of what I wanted to do to him. He must have read my thoughts because he laughed. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? Too bad you had to be so smart. We could have had fun together.” He leered and ran his finger along my cheek.
I swatted his hand away. If I’d had any saliva in my mouth, I would have spit in his face. Unfortunately, I think the tofu and black bean mush I’d eaten earlier had absorbed all the fluid in my body.
“Few people come down here anymore. It’ll be a long time before anyone finds your body. You and Benjamin Purnell can rot down here together.” He stood and pointed his gun at me. “Goodbye, Samantha.”
I needed to keep him talking, buy myself some time. “Why did you do it? Why did you kill Melody?”
He smiled. “She got greedy. She had a good con going with that oaf Dawson, but she didn’t want to cut me in.” He sneered.
I wondered how I had ever thought him attractive. In this cold, damp dark basement, the only thing I felt when I looked at him was revulsion. “So it was about money?”
“It was always about the money.”
“Maybe she really cared about Dawson.”
He laughed. “You are so naive. She didn’t care two bits for that dumb jock. He was just a mark. She said he was going to be her meal ticket out of the life.” He paced. “I didn’t care if she wanted to believe she could stop and go the straight and narrow, as long as she gave me my cut.”
I shivered in spite of myself at the cold tone of his voice. “So you killed her. Just like that?”
He nodded. “Just like that.” He raised his gun.
“What about A-squared?” I rushed to get in before he killed me.
“He saw us together at the HOD. Followed us.” He shrugged. “The crazy old fool tried to blackmail me. Me?” He laughed. “Can you believe that? He saw me kill her in the parking lot at the HOD, and he thinks I’m going to pay him money not to tell the police?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Now, enough talk. I don’t like loose ends and you’re just another loose end.” He pointed the gun at my head and stared.