Ed stared at Yost, clearly irritated by the officer’s phrasing. “I wouldn’t call them transients. I hire union guys out of the hall. They work for as long as I need them, and then they move on to other jobs.”
“That’s the point. One of your workers could have died on the job, and you never would have known. If you weren’t so busy in your job trailer, doing God knows what to who knows who . . .”
“Officer Yost . . .” Ed warned.
April felt her heart fall in her chest. They could only be talking about one night.
The night of Rocky’s graduation party. April had gone to the job trailer to find her father. He hadn’t been home much that spring . . .
Ed was seated on the couch at the end of the trailer. Only it had been opened up and was heaped with bed pillows and blankets. A brass lamp screwed into the wall lit the paperback he was reading.
When April pulled open the door of the job trailer, he looked up, startled. No, more than startled. Scared. He pulled off his glasses and sat up. His feet were bare.
She wasn’t scared, she was angry. Angrier than she ever remembered being in her sixteen years alive. Her father had disappointed her for the last time.
“April? What’s wrong?” her father asked. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be out at eleven o’clock. How did you get here? You didn’t ride your bike, did you?”
April let the door slam behind her. She saw him wince as it banged shut. But he stopped talking.
She cocked a hip, her hands resting on her jutting hipbones. “What good is having a father if he can’t even bother to come to see my concert?” She bit back the tears that threatened to ruin her tirade. She really wanted him to know how much he’d let her down tonight.
Her father was bewildered. She could see the wheels turning. He flipped over the pages on his day-to-day calendar. It had been behind a day, on June 12.
Ed clapped his hand to his forehead. “Oh, don’t tell me I missed graduation.”
April’s eyes flashed. “Yes, and in case you’ve forgotten, I was the only junior to take over a first chair. Deana’s mother said it was so beautiful, she cried. But no one from my family was there.” She was trying not to sound juvenile and pouty, but she felt like stamping her foot. She was determined not to cry.
“You know your mother had to cook for the Women’s League Golf Tournament at the country club . . .”
April nodded. She was used to Bonnie working nights. That was okay. It was her father that she’d wanted there.
In two steps, Ed was in front of her, trying to hug her. She crossed her arms over her chest and held herself stiffly.
“I’m so sorry, hon,” he said into her hair. “Work. You know I’ve been staying at the job trailer because of the vandalism. Officer Yost is on my case about the wild parties being held out here, but this is the last night, I promise. After tonight, all the troubles will be going away.”
She looked around the job trailer. Ed’s familiar blue pajamas were laid out on a chair. Over the sink were his toothbrush and the Waterpik he used to floss his teeth. She realized with a jolt what was going on.
“You’re not working late. You’re living here.”
“Apey, please.”
“Why are you here? Why aren’t you home?”
In the garbage can were the remnants of his microwave dinner.
Outside, a girl giggled and a guy made loud smacking noises. April remembered the couple she’d seen in a tight embrace in the woods as she’d biked in. People were out there having fun.
Loud noises spilled through the open jalousie window. Ed frowned and picked up the phone.
“I’ve been calling and calling Yost. He promised to come out and put an end to the partying going on at the Castle. It’s getting out of hand.”
April didn’t care what was going on outside. She had another terrible thought.
“You’re cheating on Mom. You’ve got another woman. That’s why you’re here.”
She didn’t stop to listen to her father’s excuses. She pushed her way out of the trailer and ran toward the party.
“Officer Yost, my father was with me that night,” April said, but the two men weren’t listening to her.
“Why would I kill one of my men?” Ed asked wearily.
Yost leaned in. “You were pretty far in the closet back then. Maybe someone found out . . .”
“No you don’t,” April yelled at Yost. She put herself right in front of him and shook her finger at him as if she was a babushka-wearing woman from the old country. “That’s not fair—”
Ed took April’s arm and moved her away from Yost. He looked worried that she might strike the police officer.
Mitch took a step away from Yost, as if he didn’t trust himself, either.
Ed’s voice was low. “April, I need you to go up to the mansion. Now.”
“No, Dad. I should stay here. You and Officer Yost—”
“Yost and I will settle things. I don’t need you to help.”
“Dad . . .”
He closed his eyes and rubbed them. When he spoke again, his voice was strained. “The most important thing now is to keep Mrs. H. happy. April, can I count on you?”
She gave Yost another glare. “I just want you to know, Officer Yost, I will do whatever it takes to keep you from railroading my father.”
Yost smirked. He turned his attention to Lyle. “Trocadero, don’t go anywhere.”
Ed took her by the hand, taking her away from Yost. “Forget him.”
“Dad, you can’t let him walk all over you like that.”
“April, please. I’ve been living in this town a lot longer than you have. Let me handle Yost my way. I need your help with something else.”
She felt her anger simmer down. He was right. She was the outsider here.
Ed said, “I’ve got a crew working at the mansion that Lyle was supposed to be supervising.” He glanced at Lyle, who was being led by Yost away from the skull. Lyle was listening to Yost, head tilted, hands in his pockets. Ed looked at his watch. “It’s eleven now. They’re probably breaking for lunch. I can’t afford to have them lollygagging. I need you to go check up on them.”
“I think I should stay here with you.” She glanced back. Yost was watching them carefully over his pad of paper. He wasn’t finished with her father yet. “Won’t Vince be back soon? He could go.” A shaft of light came through the trees, lighting up the skull eerily.
Ed shook his head mournfully. “He’s got the Heights job. He’s going there right after he drops off Curly and Mo.”
April crossed her arms across her chest, hugging herself. She was adding to her father’s stress level by not doing as he asked. “All right.”
“That’s a good girl. Talk to Mike, my foreman. I called him earlier and told him the blast was no big deal. I need you to tell them what’s going on.”
“About the skull?” she asked. She wasn’t sure how far she should go.
“Tell them what you need to. They’re in the north wing.”
Mitch jangled his car keys. “Come on, I’ll take you back to Mirabella.”
April looked at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the ruins. She decided he was only being polite.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I can walk back the way we came.”
He didn’t protest. April could see he really wanted to stay here and find out what would happen next.
She started to walk to the mansion, but her father called her back.
“April,” Ed said, “please make sure they’re not using the inside toilet.”
She started to laugh, but her father’s serious expression stopped her. She waved and left.
April entered Mirabella through the open kitchen door. No locking of the doors on this side of town. Surrounded by the country club, Mirabella was in a cocoon of safety and security.
She would make sure Ed’s men were working, fill them in on what had happened at the Castle and then get back to Ed. He needed someone to shield him fr
om Yost’s venom.
She went through the plastic-draped door she’d seen earlier and followed a long hallway. The walls were covered in what looked like suede. She touched the surface. It wasn’t a paint treatment; it was fabric. She started to mentally calculate the square yardage. This had to be thousands of dollars of fabric. It would be a shame to pull it all down.
She heard laughter and turned into a sunny room at the back of the house. It was long, probably some kind of ball-room in the original plan, with a wall of windows overlooking the slope of the yard into the woods. She tried to get her bearings. The garage wasn’t visible from here, but it was over to the right. The Castle site was to the left, out of view.
Three guys in Retro Reproductions shirts were on a window seat. Another was seated on the floor, leaning against the wall. Next to them was a large yellow Igloo cooler with a red lid. White bags from the deli were tossed on the floor, and each of the guys had a hoagie in hand. She smelled the greasy sweetness of salami and Italian dressing.
Their comfortable chatter died out as she came in the doorway. All eyes scrutinized her as she crossed the wide room. She kept a smile plastered on her face and strode as fast as she could, faking a confidence she didn’t feel.
“Can we help you? Are you looking for Mrs. H.?” a man with chubby cheeks asked, coming out of the shadows. He was carrying a clipboard. The front of his shirt had a fresh stain. He must have finished his lunch already.
“No, I’m April Buchert, Ed’s daughter?” she said, falling into the local cadence of speech, ending a statement with a question mark.
“I’m Mike McCarty,” the chubby-cheeked guy said. He came forward and shook her hand, giving her a nice smile that put her at ease.
A barrel-chested man squinted at her. “Holy smokes, I thought that was Bonnie coming through the door. You look just like her when she was younger.”
April struggled not to blush. Her mother had been Miss Alfalfa at the Bloomsburg Fair in high school. She’d never thought she’d made the grade.
“The spitting image,” another guy said.
“Don’t mind these galoots,” Mike said. “This here is Butch, that’s John, and Carlos and Bernie.”
Butch wasn’t finished. “You the daughter in Californ-i-a?”
April nodded. Living in San Francisco to these people was akin to settling on Mars, except the Martians were considered less alien.
“Good thing you got out before the Big One,” the second guy, maybe John, said gravely. “It’s only a matter of time before Arizona is beachfront.”
April smiled slightly. People in Aldenville pretended they wouldn’t want to live in California because of its tectonic shifts, but the truth was they were afraid that they were missing out on a big adventure. Convincing themselves California was full of loonies protected them from that realization.
“What’s going on at the Castle?” the guy on the floor asked. “We heard the blast. Lyle make a big mess?”
“Not that that would be anything new,” John said.
A dark-skinned man crossed himself and kissed his knuckles, raising his eyes to heaven. “Dios mío,” he muttered. Surely this was Carlos.
April knew construction workers could be a superstitious lot. They didn’t like it when things went haywire. People got killed on the job from a stray hammer blow or broken scaffolding far too often. The deaths usually seemed random and unpredictable, happening despite the best efforts at safety. For some guys, a job curse explained the unexplainable.
She also knew that men would walk off a job rather than work under dicey circumstances. Her job was to keep them all here.
She decided not to say anything about the skull. They’d find out soon enough. She didn’t want them too distracted to work. Instead she said, “Things are fine over there. Ed just wants you to keep doing what you’re doing.”
John said, “So why are you here?”
She shrugged her shoulders apologetically. “I know you’re not slacking off, but my dad—”
“We know your dad, April,” Mike said. “He’s a nervine of the highest order.”
She laughed. “So you know he sent me over here because he needed me to check, not because you needed checking up on.”
“Exactly. Here’s the report. We’ve spent the morning ripping down the east and west walls of bookshelves. We’ve piled the salvageable lumber outside the French doors for Lyle to pick up. We’re right on schedule.”
April was impressed. “You do know my dad. You’ve covered all the bases.”
The barrel-chested guy stood and stretched out his back. “And we haven’t used Mrs. H.’s bathroom once.”
April laughed again. “My father must be pretty predictable.”
Butch said, “Someday I’m going to retire and open a porta-potty business. I’ll get the exclusive on your father’s jobs and just rake in the dough.”
The men laughed, then started gathering up their sandwich wrappers. One of them held his fist to his chest and burped loudly. April ignored his bid for attention.
“Well, I’ll tell my dad all is well here. In the meantime, you’ve got plenty to keep you busy?” she asked.
McCarty nodded again. “Oh, yeah. You going to stick around? I’ve got some boards that need the nails pulled out,” he said.
April could see he was only half kidding. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’ve got to get back to the Castle.”
“What about the cleanup over there?” Mike said. “Ed said I needed to schedule that for this afternoon.”
The cleanup. She’d forgotten Mrs. H.’s demand that it be done today. There was no way Yost was going to let that happen.
“Probably not today. Ed’ll call you when he’s ready.” She said her good-byes and quickly left. She hadn’t done a great job of answering his questions, but it would have to be enough. For now.
She walked back through the house, hoping not to bump into Mrs. H. She didn’t want to be the one to break the news of the skull to her. After all, if Mrs. H. wanted to, she could shut down the Mirabella job.
Outside once more, April yanked the car door open. Hot air flooded out. She felt her thighs burn when they hit the upholstery. In San Francisco, she’d never needed one of those ugly windshield screens. Summer meant fog, cold fog. Here a screen was a necessity. Even though it was only early June, the heat and humidity built up in a closed car. The black interior felt hot enough to boil water.
April rubbed her hands, touching the wheel now and again to see if it had cooled off enough for her to drive. Her phone rang. Ken’s ring. She threw the phone on the passenger seat. The day had been frustrating enough without adding to it.
Bankruptcy. The word sent a chill down her spine. She’d done everything she could not to repeat the family history. In California, she’d paid off every creditor she’d had. It had taken all of her money, but it was worth it. The stigma of bankruptcy was hard to overcome. It had taken Ed years to build his business back up again.
April pointed her car to the right, to return to the Castle.
About a quarter mile up the road, a man in a real Smokey-the-Bear hat stopped her. Up ahead was a large white truck with “Forensics Van” written on the side, just under the Pennsylvania State Trooper insignia.
The trooper leaned in. “Sorry, ma’am, but the road is closed. Are you a local resident?”
She thought about lying, but he’d probably check the registration and find out she didn’t live on this road.
She shook her head. “I work with Retro Reproductions, the contractor on the Castle job.”
“Sorry, there’s an investigation in progress. You’ll have to turn around.”
April hesitated. Her father was in there. The stony-faced trooper stood in the middle of the road, directing her three-point turn so she didn’t end up in the roadside ditch. She turned the car back toward the barn, trying to figure out how best to protect her father. Ed was going to be no help. She would have to do this herself. If she could prove to Yost that a
ll her father’s employees were alive and well, he’d have to leave her father alone. No missing employee would mean that the skull belonged to some other unfortunate, and that her father was not involved.
Back at the barn, April scanned the file boxes neatly stacked next to her father’s desk and pulled out the one marked “The Castle.” File folders slumped in the bottom, so she carefully set them on the kitchen table. Her father’s desk was littered with papers. She didn’t dare touch anything. He’d flip out if she disturbed his work method.
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