by Laney Monday
Delivery at your place tonight. I mean tomorrow morning. 1 a.m.
There was no name assigned to the number, but there were quite a few messages.
Gunter had replied: No. Too late. Must be done earlier.
Can’t.
Fine. Come alone. And don’t forget to keep your mouth shut.
Do you think I’m stupid?
Gunter hadn’t answered that one. According to the time stamp, it had come in just before I arrived. Either Gunter did think this person was stupid, or I’d interrupted his conversation.
I’ve got you, Gunter. Should I pass it along to the police? But I didn’t have anything yet. There was nothing illegal mentioned in the message, nothing that even suggested the criminal. It was just my suspicions, my hunches, and vague accusations and gossip that made me think this could be anything significant at all. I couldn’t stomach the thought of making a fool of myself to Will again. Especially not embarrassing him in front of his department, which was bound to happen if I said anything to the police.
I left the bathroom and slipped the phone back onto the charger.
“So come back with your mom, and we’ll talk about your hair,” Gunter was telling Katie.
She looked relieved. Sammi hadn’t managed to rope her into a dye job for the sake of a snooping opportunity. “Okay, thanks, Mr. Hatton.”
“Bye, Gunter,” I said before Sammi could find some reason to stay and get into trouble. “Come on, girls. I’ll walk you home.”
Gunter said good-bye and went back to his client, who was nodding off in the barber chair.
I nudged the girls out the door.
“Sensei Brenna, what were you doing back there?” Sammi whispered as soon as the door shut behind us.
“Going to the bathroom.”
“You found something, didn’t you?” Katie said.
I was a sucker for Katie. “Yes, but the real question is, what are you two doing here?”
Katie glanced at Sammi. “We were walking home from the park, and we saw you.”
Sammi said, “Everyone thinks Gunter Hatton did it. When we saw you headed in here—”
“Everyone? Who’s everyone?”
“Me and Katie.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway,” Sammi said, “I knew you were up to something. It’s not like you were going to get your hair done.”
What was she trying to say about my hair?
“So what did you find out?” Katie said.
“That Mr. Hatton is up to something.”
“Up to what?” Sammi crossed her arms impatiently.
“I don’t know.”
“Really?” Katie’s face fell.
“Seriously?” Sammi said.
“Yes, seriously, honestly, I have no idea what he’s into.”
“But you’re going to find out,” Sammi pressed.
I shrugged. “Maybe. See you tomorrow, girls!”
22
Harvey opened the front door of Reiner House as soon as I raised my hand to knock. “Hi, Harvey. You look good. Are you ready?”
He’d followed Blythe’s advice and dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a button-up shirt instead of his usual paint-spattered overalls. Best to look as normal as possible while he advocated for his historic home in front of the Town Council. Not that any of the council members, all long-time residents of Bonney Bay, didn’t know Harvey—and his, shall we say, quirks—all too well.
I’d called Blythe last night, told her I loved her. She’d told me she loved me, too. Then there was an awkward silence. “I’m not ready to come home yet,” she’d said. And I’d wanted to cry. I told her I understood. And then I told her Harvey needed her help. We both went over to Harvey’s house and helped him prepare for the meeting, and then Blythe went back to Lourdes’s house.
Harvey’s niece had been looking after him lately, but she was visiting her mother, who was having an emergency appendectomy, and Blythe was teaching judo class. She had no desire to try to handle Harvey by herself under these circumstances. I was on my own here.
The sun was shining, and the whole neighborhood looked like summer. Which it still was, of course. Not that you would’ve known it on Saturday. Everything looked green, lush, rejuvenated. I just wanted to lay out a blanket and bask in it. But I had important business to take care of. Roses and antique bricks, along with my friend’s sanity, to preserve.
I’d hurried to change and come pick up Harvey after the younger kids’ evening classes. I was going to miss the nine-and-up class, but they were the most independent and easiest for Blythe to handle on her own.
I nodded at the folder Harvey had tucked under his arm. “You have your statement?”
“Yes, but I have more to say than this.” He waggled the folder in the air. “I don’t want the sidewalk redone at all. I don’t want all those machines and noise anywhere near Moira’s house. They’re going to trample things and break things. You know they are.”
No…I groaned inside. We’d gone over and over this. “Harvey! They’re going to replace that sidewalk. The whole town is getting new sidewalks. It’s part of the normal upkeep of every town, and they’re not going to leave your sidewalk alone. We need to focus on convincing them to make the new sidewalk around Reiner House the same size as the old one instead of widening it and cutting into your front walk and your garden.”
“No,” Harvey said firmly.
“Then you’ll lose your favorite roses and have your front walk broken up, and you’ll have all the noise and mess anyway. Just read your statement. It’s a compromise, Harvey.”
It really wasn’t a compromise on Harvey’s part. Technically, Harvey had nothing to compromise. He didn’t own the sidewalk; the town did. If he was successful, they would be the ones compromising.
Harvey muttered something under his breath as he locked the door behind him and followed me to the sidewalk.
I almost questioned him, but decided it was better not to know what he was ranting. Then I’d have to argue with him some more, and he’d get all riled up, and he was guaranteed to make a scene instead of a good impression on the council. Besides, if we didn’t get moving, we were going to be late.
I walked briskly, almost at a jog, toward the elegant white pillars supporting the little balcony above the doors of Bonney Bay’s Town Hall. We were less than a block away and not a minute too early. Town Hall was a big, impressive building for such a small town. People often rented the beautifully old-fashioned space with its ocean view for weddings, birthdays, and memorial receptions.
In fact, there were a dozen or so people on their way inside right now. The parking lot was nearly full. Someone must’ve booked the spacious main hall for an event. Why not? Our little meeting could go on in one of the small side rooms without disrupting it. I glanced at my phone to check the time again.
“Come on,” I called to Harvey, who had fallen behind. “It’s time.”
Instead of hurrying up, Harvey paused. He pointed at a couple of people headed up the front walk and into Town Hall. “They don’t understand. They don’t want to mess with Moira. It won’t be pretty.”
“Harvey, shh! Keep your voice down.” I went to him and took his arm. “We don’t want to scare people. That’s not the way to do this.” I knew better than to try to tell Harvey the ghosts of Reiner House weren’t real.
“The spirits, they’ve been quiet for a while now. But if they start ripping up the yard…”
My phone vibrated in my hand. It was a local number, but one I didn’t recognize. I didn’t really have time for a phone call. But what if it was one of the judo parents calling from a number I didn’t have in my contacts? What if something had happened at the dojo and Blythe was dealing with the emergency—or she was the one who was hurt?
I tapped the green button. “Hello?”
“Brenna Battle?” The voice sounded odd, like whoever was on the other end of the line was talking into a paper bag.
“Yes?” I said impatiently
. Harvey was starting to wave his arms a little too enthusiastically as he went on about what the ghosts of Reiner House would do.
“I know who killed Dina Hermiston,” the paper bag voice declared.
“Who is this?” My pulse quickened. Calm down, I told myself. It’s probably just a prankster. Hadn’t Will told me they were getting lots of bogus “leads?”
“I know who stabbed her with a meat thermometer.”
A chill ran through me. No one knew about the meat thermometer. Unless it had been leaked, no one knew what the murder weapon was except me, Blythe, and the police. Did this person I had on the line actually witness the murder? Did the murderer confess to them? Or…were they involved? I could be speaking to the murderer himself. He could be calling me to cast suspicion on someone else or to confess.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“I know. I see you.”
“What did you say?”
“Watch yourself, Brenna Battle. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
I ignored the threat and got straight to the point. “Who killed Mrs. Hermiston?”
There was a wicked, muffled cackle—or was it a warped cry of despair?—on the other end of the line. Then the call dropped.
23
There was no party going on inside Town Hall. All those people I’d seen going inside? They’d congregated in the main hall alright, but not for a wedding or a celebration of life. Nope. They were all gathered for Harvey’s hearing. I should’ve noticed the absence of presents or condolence cards and flowers in people’s hands. But I’d been just a little busy dealing with Harvey and his delusions, not to mention ominous phone calls.
The room was filled with the low, serious murmurs of the townspeople. The Bonney Bay town council and the town administrator, Jeff Gainsborough, sat at the head of the room behind several long tables, facing the people.
Metal framed chairs with padded brown seats, the kind that looked like they were from the eighties, were arranged in neat rows. Rows that were completely full. Not a single empty seat remained. There must be close to a hundred people here, all to hear Harvey’s petition. And Harvey was late. I’d had no choice but to call Will and report the threatening phone call right away, and that had taken a few precious minutes when we had none to spare.
I was prepared to defend Harvey and Reiner house to the council, not to a big public meeting. How could a special meeting, called on short notice, be this full?
“There’s so many people here,” I whispered to Harvey.
He straightened up proudly. “I know.”
“Did Helen have time to put an announcement in the Blaster?”
“I told her, as soon as the time was set.”
And then he’d gone around telling whoever he could find about it too, I was sure. Would the big turn-out work in his favor? It was hard to tell who was really on Harvey’s side. A lot of people didn’t want to disagree with him to his face. I couldn’t say I blamed them. How many of these people were concerned for him? How many of them didn’t like him standing in the way of progress? And how many were here for the sheer entertainment value? I told myself the opinions that really mattered were those of the council members, but I knew they could be swayed by the crowd.
I spotted a stack of chairs in the back of the vast hall and motioned for Harvey to follow me to get one. I picked up a chair and placed it behind the last row. But Harvey didn’t set his beside mine; he marched right up to the front and planted his ahead of the first row, close enough to reach out and touch the skirt on the table the Town Council sat behind. And then he planted his rear end in that chair. I hesitated, my hand on the back of my chair, waiting for someone to tell him he had to move. One of the council members coughed pointedly, but no one took action.
Oh, Lord. There was nothing I could do but pick up my chair, walk past all those rows of staring townspeople, and insert myself right in front along with him. Hey, I couldn’t leave him within striking distance of the council with no one there to stop him from doing anything crazy.
Blythe had helped him write his statement. Now, it was my job to try to get him to stick to it, and to keep him under control while he gave it. Plus, there was always the chance he might attempt the type of throttling I tended to keep confined to my imagination, or at worst, indulged within the relative safety and ethical framework of the rules of judo.
Elizabeth Bower, a retired school administrator with a fluffy halo of dark hair and penetrating dark eyes, was Chair of the Council. She nodded at Harvey and opened the meeting. “This special meeting of the Town Council has been called to hear Harvey Miller’s request that the sidewalk, on town property surrounding his home, Reiner House, be exempted from the sidewalk widening approved by this council on August Sixth of this year.”
Harvey walked up to the podium and microphone set up to the right of the council. Gunter Hatton, seated with his fellow council members, had lost his usual charming demeanor. Instead he looked stiff, pained. I’d have to say he had his nose stuck in the air just a bit.
Harvey began to read, “Reiner House is an important part of Bonney Bay’s history. It’s part of what draws people here. And those people care more about preserving the historical integrity of Reiner House’s rose garden and front walk than they do about having a wider sidewalk.”
When he was finished, Gunter Hatton took the podium. I jumped up to “help” Harvey to his seat. He and Gunter eyed each other like a couple of wild animals ready to pounce. I was used to being around guys locking horns. What I wasn’t used to was trying to keep them from engaging in battle instead of taking a step back, grabbing a bag of popcorn, and sitting down to watch the show, played out on the mat. Okay, so I never actually kept popcorn by the mat, but you get the idea.
I pulled Harvey to his seat as Gunter began his speech. “Our sidewalks are too narrow for a comfortable stroll side by side. Everyone on this council agreed that they need to be widened. How will it look to have the sidewalk suddenly narrow around one house? If Reiner House is such an integral part of the town, it should match the rest of the town. We already determined that the town shouldn’t match Reiner House when we agreed the sidewalks should be widened.”
The arguing went back and forth, back and forth, with several townspeople and council members taking a turn to speak. As far as I could tell, that council was pretty much evenly split. Several people I’d thought were on Harvey’s side seemed to be swayed by Gunter Hatton.
Gunter Hatton, who had some kind of secret. Something, it seemed, that if brought out into the open, would lead to his removal from the council, if not his incarceration. I replayed the voice of the caller in my mind, trying to figure out if it could’ve been someone close to Gunter.
This murder case was going to break soon; I could feel it. Things were coming to a head. Harvey wanted this sidewalk thing settled right away, but if we could just put it off for a while, even for a few days, Gunter might be off the council, and the votes of some of these council members might swing in his direction.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I slipped it out and checked it. Maybe it was Will. Maybe he’d figured out who was behind that call. When I saw the screen, my hand tightened around the phone. The call was coming from the same number as the caller who’d claimed he knew who’d killed Dina Hermiston. I had to answer it.
“Excuse me,” I said to no one in particular. “It’s an emergency.”
I walked briskly to the back of the hall as I answered, “Hello?”
“You want to know who killed Dina Hermiston?”
That paper bag voice again.
“Of course. Tell me.”
“Not now. Not over the phone.”
“Okay, when?”
“In twenty minutes. Behind the bathrooms at Brightside Beach.”
The murder scene. I thought about going back to the scene of Dina’s gruesome death, possibly to meet the person responsible for it. Today had been such a beautiful day. Even though it was getting late, t
here would still be a few people lingering at the beach, wouldn’t there? I wouldn’t be totally alone…
“I don’t think I can be there in twenty minutes. I’m right in the middle of—”
“Twenty minutes.”
The call ended. Great. I had twenty minutes to get this sidewalk issue settled, get Harvey out of here without causing any trouble, and get down to the beach.
I frantically texted Will, Meeting someone who claims to know murderer. Behind Brightside bathrooms. 20 min. Have to hurry & get out of meeting. Can you be there?
I’ll be there.
Stay out of sight.
Of course.
Might be late. Harvey.
Gotcha.
I hustled back to my seat. Gunter was saying, “The bottom line is, Mr. Miller feels entitled to something that isn’t his.”
That brought Harvey out of his chair, alright. I pulled Harvey down and stood up in his place. I kept a strong hand on his shoulder, pressing him to keep his seat. “It looks like opinion is pretty evenly split here. In the event of a tie, the mayor is the deciding vote, correct?” I called out.
The council members looked more than a little surprised. Yes, people. I did some research. One by one, they began to nod and murmur their assent.
I continued, “And we’ll have a new mayor in a few days. So why don’t we just hold off on this until then? It might not sit well with people if they think the council is trying to push things through before their ballots are cast. The people aren’t going to vote directly on things like sidewalks. We all know everything can’t go up for vote. But they will elect a mayor who represents their views.”
“Why can’t they vote?” Harvey jumped up beside me. “Let the people vote on this. It is important! It’s Bonney Bay’s history. Reiner House is the oldest standing home in town.”
“Harvey, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay! That land belongs to Reiner House. It has for the last hundred years.” He pointed straight at Gunter. “He’s trying to steal it from me!”