Deep-Fried Homicide (The Laurel Falls Mysteries Book 1)

by Patricia Lee Macomber

  Rick sighed again and let his arm go limp. “No, I surely don’t,” he mumbled. Again, he hoped she hadn’t heard him.

  He reached out and disengaged the latch on the mausoleum door. The door itself was a lot heavier than he had anticipated and so he put more effort into his second attempt at opening it than he had his first. It grated and dragged but yielded to his less than gentle persuasions. A small cloud of dust escaped on a breath of wind and Rick could have sworn he smelled cologne of some sort.

  “What are you doing now?” chirped Rachel’s voice over the cell phone.

  Rick put the phone back to his ear and spoke softly, so as not to disturb the dead, he supposed. “I just went in. Switching on my flashlight now. I’m taking one step toward the coffin. Now another…”

  “Okay, okay! I get it. Sheesh!”

  Rick smiled at his small victory and pressed deeper into the large room. “So, let me get this straight. You moved all these urns.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you tested all the walls for levers?”

  “Yep.”

  He fingered a few dead blossoms in a vase next to one of the urns and watched as they crumbled. “Spun the vases?”

  There was a long moment of silence and Rick’s smiled widened. “No. I didn’t.”

  “Ah ha!” proclaimed Rick. He spun the one vase, which was bolted into the stone holding the urn. It turned both ways easily, but produced no results. He moved on to the next and the next until he once more heard Rachel’s voice in his ear.

  “What are you doing now? Did you find something?”

  “Nope. I turned all the vases but nothing happened.”

  “Oh.” Clearly, she was disappointed.

  Rick let his flashlight beam play over the walls, floor and ceiling, finally letting it come to rest on the coffin at the center of the room. “I assume you opened the coffin?”

  “Of course not. Ew!”

  “You’re not a very good investigator, then, if you’d let a little thing like a two-hundred-year-old rotting corpse keep you from the answer.” Rick was quiet then, as he set the phone and the flashlight down on the nearest shelf and put his back into opening the coffin lid.

  It was heavy and dusty and his hands slipped off the grips twice before he got a good hold on it. He had seen dead bodies before, of course, in all kinds of states. He figured that any body which had been interred for that amount of time would certainly have turned to dust. He was wrong.

  Biceps bulging, he pushed the lid to its limit, testing its stability before he let go of the thing. Then he bent down to retrieve his flashlight and phone. As he shone the light into the coffin, his eyes grew wide and his jaw first dropped, then curled his mouth into a grin.

  “Oh my God!” he exclaimed.

  “What is it, Rick? What did you find? Rick? Are you all right? Rick? Rick!”

  He wanted to let her go on that way, just to rattle her cage. It would serve her right. But if he knew his wife – and after all this time, he surely did – it would be mere seconds before she bolted from the truck, terrified, and ran to check on him.

  “You won’t believe what I found,” he said at last. “Here, let me show you.”

  He turned on the video chat. Her face blurred into existence and Rick felt gratified at the amount of curiosity and fear he found there.

  “There you are,” she giggled. “So, show me already.”

  “Okay, I opened the coffin and aimed the flashlight into it and….this is what I saw.” He turned the phone so that the camera was facing down into the coffin.

  But instead of a dead body and a solid bottom, Rachel saw a gaping hole. It was the full width and breadth of the coffin and it dropped away into ever-deepening darkness. There was a ladder descending into the hole from one end and, though you couldn’t see any further down than about twenty feet, Rachel knew that it must go down a long way.

  “Holy cow!” she exclaimed. “You found it! You really found it.”

  “I sure did.” He felt pleased with himself for only a few second before panic began to well up inside him. “And now I’m getting out of here. I can hear those machines running, whatever they are. And somebody might show up at any second.”

  “Okay, darling. Be careful.”

  “Don’t worry. I will. ETA three minutes.”

  He turned off the phone and stuck it in his pocket, then eased the lid of the coffin back into place. Once he had grabbed his flashlight and made it out the door, he did the same with the large entrance door. Then it was a long sprint through the cemetery gate and along the fence until he reached the truck.

  Rachel threw her arms around his neck as he slid onto the seat. Her reaction was strange and a bit dramatic, even for her. Rick held her for a second, realizing that she was trembling.

  “You’re amazing,” she said, pulling back at last. Her eyes were sparkling, her face bright. She was never happier than when she had come to the end of a mystery.

  “That’s what I keep telling you,” he chuckled. “Now, let’s head for home.”

  She put one hand softly on his ignition hand and cocked her head to one side. “Not quite yet. Please? I want to run something by you.”

  “Uh oh!” He sat back, resigned and more than a little scared.

  “No, now, just listen.” She stared off through the windshield, her eyes focused on something that wasn’t actually there. She had worked her way into the penultimate thinking face and her blinks seemed to be timed with every tenth word. “You said the machines were running down there again, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, we know for sure that they have electricity.”

  “They could be using generators.” Rick shrugged and leaned back into the corner formed by the seat back and the door.

  Rachel’s head whipped around and she glared at him. “Generators?”

  “Yea. So, they wouldn’t need electric lines.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  Her tone was accusatory. It raised Rick’s hackles. “Oh really? And why not?”

  “Because generators create exhaust from the gas burning. It would kill them all.”

  “Maybe they have ventilation of some sort. Fans. Filters.” If he sounded at all like a petulant child, it was not without warrant.

  “They could only use fans at each end of the pipe. A pipe that stretches for miles in either direction. Besides, a fan that big would be heard for miles. We didn’t hear any noise at all while we were at the beach. And the noise coming from the mausoleum wasn’t that loud.”

  “Maybe when they open the crypt up, the wind is enough to push the exhaust out of there.”

  “Again, not possible. The prevailing winds are from the west and blow out to sea. The mausoleum has its door shut most of the time and the wind wouldn’t blow in that way.”

  Rick threw up his hands and deflated. “Okay, you got me. So they use electricity. Where’s it coming from?”

  “Well, let’s see…there is no electricity in the old part of the cemetery, so they’d have to draw it from across the street.” She pointed first down and then up. “And as you can see, there are no wires, so they’re not doing that.”

  “The other end, then.”

  “Nope. The closest pole is at the ranger’s station nearly two miles away.”

  Again Rick shrugged. “So, maybe one of the intakes then.”

  “Easy enough to check. Drive on, MacDuff.”

  He stared at her. “You mean, drive all over town and look at each of the storm drains?”

  “Well, yea. I mean, there’s not that many. All of them are confined to the six-block downtown area.”

  He wasn’t in the mood to fight it. He would lose anyway. With a long sigh and his eyes cast to the heavens, Rick started the truck and eased away from the curb.

  The daylight was beginning to dwindle but they would have a few hours of good visibility left to them. They eyed each of the drains in turn, stopping briefly and checking for cords and such that
might be running into the drains. Before they were done, they drew more than a few horn honks and one old lady actually shook her fist at Rick.

  When they had checked them all, Rick pulled up to the curb in front of the pizza parlor and put the truck in park. Any normal person would be defeated, ready to give up and call it a day. But not Rachel. She would want to think out loud, to spout theories and possibilities until she was blue in the face and he was suicidal from irritation. He hung one arm out of the truck, felt a cool breeze stand his hairs up. There would be rain soon. Oh, how he wanted to be home just then.

  “So, now what?”

  Rachel was biting her thumbnail again, looking perplexed. “I’m not sure. We checked all the drains and there’s no electricity going in through there. There’s none at either end. So, how are they doing it?”

  “Maybe they’re using generators, like I said.”

  She made a soft pfft! sound and shook her head. “Or maybe they have some alien power source like in the comic books.”

  Rick snorted. “Now who’s being silly?”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Rachel knew she was missing something, some crucial part of the puzzle that was right under her nose. It was always like that, especially when she thought too hard about it all.

  “Maybe if we figure out what they’re doing down there,” Rick said, studying her face as he spoke watching her reactions, “we can figure out how they’re doing it.”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I know exactly what they’re doing down there.” She paused for dramatic effect…that and to irritate Rick.

  “So, are you going to share or do I have to tickle it out of you?”

  She smiled at that, a genuine, warm smile, full of love. “When Logan and I were out at The Point, we saw the two men get out of the truck and go into the cave. There were crates in the truck. Wooden crates and you could see raffia or something like it sticking out between the boards. They were the right length and height to hold guns. Big guns. The sort of guns that wouldn’t be legal in any state in the union, if you know what I mean.”

  “So they’re running guns? Is that it?”

  “Yea. I mean, it makes sense. Those boxes. The caves are set up perfectly to move the guns by truck or boat. So, they store them down in the pipe there and bring them out when they need to. Nobody on earth would ever think to look down there, so they’re completely safe.”

  “Nobody but you.” He smiled again, then frowned. “So, why the electricity?”

  “Moisture is bad for guns. It must be really wet down there. Maybe even flooded if we get a hard rain. Plus, it gets really dark about twenty feet into the pipe, so they need light and such.”

  “But if they are pumping the tunnels out, then the discharge hose must be coming out of the cave. There wasn’t one in the cemetery and there are only two exits.”

  “Leaving it out all the time would be a risk. Somebody would notice that big old hose sticking out of the cave. They must only reel it out when they need it.”

  Rick nodded thoughtfully and grinned. “You’ve got all the answers, don’t you?”

  “All except for where the power is coming from.”

  “When you and Logan were at The Point, were you looking specifically for power lines and such?”

  Rachel scrunched up her nose and glanced toward Rick. “Not really.”

  “Then maybe you missed it. I think the lighthouse might be close enough that they could run a line from there without too much trouble. And it could be buried in the sand. Let’s go see. Before the sun sets, I mean.”

  “Yea, let’s go see.” She shored herself up in her seat, happy once more.

  She watched Rick as he drove and, if he were aware of it, he certainly didn’t show it. He was such a good man, and so patient with her little foibles and whims. He was a man who was not only willing to let her take the crazy train once in a while, but was willing to go along for the ride.

  “We’ll park up here,” said Rick as he guided the truck into position behind a stand of tall bushes, “and walk down. No sense letting anyone know we’re coming.”

  “Right,” she said, giving him her undivided attention.

  He cut the engine and propped one arm on the back of his seat. “Now, you listen carefully. You’re the brains and I’m the brawn. I’ve got training. So, if I say run, you run. You hear me? You run back to this truck and drive away as fast as you can.”

  “Rick…”

  “Ah! You do as I say or we’re going home right now.”

  She checked his face, frowned, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do just what you said. I promise.” But she knew she wouldn’t.

  “Good. Now, we’re just a couple of love-sick people taking a leisurely stroll along the beach. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “And if it looks like anyone’s around the cave, we’re out of there. It just got real and not one bit of this is worth taking a bullet for.”

  “Absolutely.” She grimaced at her use of that word. It was sure to tip Rick off that she was just telling him what he wanted to hear.

  Rick took hold of her chin and pulled her face around so that their eyes met. “I’m deadly serious here, Rach. I don’t care if they run a million billion guns into this country. I’m not going to lose you for it. If they catch us sneaking around, they’ll kill us for sure. And we’ve already been warned off, so if the cops catch us, we’ll likely spend some time in jail. So, do what I say, don’t ask questions, and everything will be fine.”

  She nodded. “You’re totally right. I will do exactly what you say and I won’t hesitate.”

  “Good.” He pulled her in and kissed her gently. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Rick.” She kissed him again for good measure, then pulled at the door handle.

  They were dressed for the occasion, wearing jeans and t-shirts. Rick wore his usual boots, which he removed at the first sign of sand. Rachel left her sneakers on, preferring to dump them out later rather than try to make an escape by running barefoot in the sand. She watched as Rick rolled up his pant legs, revealing pale but well-toned calves.

  He took her hand as he stood, smiling at her and giving her hand a little squeeze. “Do you remember our honeymoon?” he asked softly.

  “Do I ever!” She laughed at the memory and shook her head. “It took me weeks to get the sand out of my…”

  “And I got stung by a jellyfish.”

  They shared a laugh, walking slowly down the beach toward the lighthouse, but still keeping an eye on the cave. They hadn’t seen any sign of movement in or around the cave, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  Together, they ambled closer in on the shore, scuffing their feet along, looking for buried cables and the like. At the water’s edge, two gulls fought over something they had found in the sand. The sudden burst of angry cries startled Rachel and she yelped a bit. Further out on the water, a pelican floated aimlessly, its beady eyes watching the gulls, perhaps hoping for some leftovers.

  Rick leaned in close and kissed Rachel on the cheek, whispering as he pulled away. “Let’s check out the source.” He nodded his head in the direction of the lighthouse and winked.

  Rachel nodded back, smiled. “Okay.”

  The lighthouse was nearly a hundred yards down the beach, but they kept a slow, steady pace. If anyone were watching, they would never know that the pair had come to find clues rather than romance and tranquility.

  The sun had slipped below the treetops and a chill breeze came at them from over the water. The lighthouse hadn’t yet lit its great bulb and the shadows had begun to lengthen. Hand in hand, they walked toward the lighthouse, transitioning from sand to wisps of grass, then to full-on scrub grass. Tourists traipsed around the lighthouse all the time, so no one would think a thing about them being there.

  They walked the perimeter, taking note of the electrical service box and the power lines. Nothing seemed to lead away from the lighthouse or the poles, save
for one extension cord which ended at a flood light at the head of the walkway. Likewise, nothing led from that lamp and Rachel hissed out a breath of air as they turned away from the lighthouse.

  “I don’t get it,” she whispered. No power coming from anywhere, yet they have equipment running down there.”

  “I told you. It’s generators. Has to be.”

  She scowled up at him, her eyes darting to a bit of movement near the mouth of the cave. “We’ve got company,” she said as she leaned closer. “What do we do?”

  “We do nothing. We stroll back to the truck, get into it, and go home.”

  She frowned at that. Give up? Not her. She didn’t want to disobey Rick and she sure didn’t want to put them in danger. But if there was someone around the cave, that someone might be their best opportunity to get to the bottom of it all.

  In one quick movement, Rachel tore her hand from Rick’s and dashed a few yards down the beach, turning at the last second and giggling at him.

  “Rach, honey, what are you doing?” His tone wasn’t quite annoyed; it was only slightly warning.

  “You can’t catch me, can you?” She stuck her tongue out at him playfully and skipped away. “You’ll never catch me.”

  Now, he was annoyed. His first thought was to catch her and corral her before she had a chance to put whatever plan she had into action. With a growl, he took off across the sand, kicking up great gales of the stuff as he ran.

  Running was what he did for fun, so he was on her in seconds, reaching one arm out to grab hold of her shirt and draw her in. But she knew him, knew his tactics and the way he thought. She dodged hard to the right, tilting a bit but not quite tumbling to the sand. She laughed harder at that and as soon as Rick recovered his momentum, he could see that she was heading straight for the mouth of the cave.

  “Don’t do it, Rachel. I mean it.”

  That last had sounded most threatening of all. He was mad and she knew it. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder to check his face, see if she was in trouble, or if she was really in trouble. And that’s when it happened.

  Rick saw it coming first and he opened his mouth to warn her. He was too late.