Death Over Easy

by Maddie Day

  The noise all around pressed in until I couldn’t stand it. I covered my ears with my hands, but I couldn’t just stand here like one of the three wise monkeys.

  I checked my phone. The time was nine-ten. I decided if I didn’t find the guys by nine-twenty, I was calling it in. I pushed on in the direction I thought Corrine had gone. There. I finally spotted a big red RESTROOMS sign. This was the one on the opposite side of the park from the one where I’d seen the clogging the other night. I hurried toward it, arriving at a wide building with a gently sloping ramp up to both ends. I didn’t see Corrine anywhere. I couldn’t very well go inside the door labeled MEN and see if Abe and my father were in there. I glanced into the women’s side and called out Corrine’s name but no one answered. I stooped down and checked for feet in the stalls. Nobody was in here.

  I made my way out and circled behind the building nestled into the edge of the woods. All the trees were in full leaf and the underbrush was thick with saplings and years’ worth of fallen leaves. A breeze rustled the leaves with a scratching sound as a small animal scurried away. A crow cawed from behind me, making me jump, then it beat its wings with a rustle, flying into the woods.

  When I spied a beaten down path between the trees, a path winding into the darkness, I had a strong urge to follow it. Something told me Abe and Babbo were in there somewhere, having been abducted or worse by a murderer.

  But Nancy Drew I was not, nor Kinsey Millhone, either. I pulled out my phone. I ought to call Detective Anne Henderson. But would she laugh at me and say they had to let twenty-four hours pass before filing a missing persons report? I shook my head and pressed Buck’s number. He wouldn’t laugh.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Buck didn’t laugh, but he didn’t say he’d be right there, either.

  “So your papa and your boyfriend are lost at the bluegrass festival?” he asked, incredulity creeping into his voice. “You sure they didn’t head off to one of the other stages?”

  True, there were three or four other stages, plus the tailgate jam sessions that popped up all over the place. I sighed. “Okay, I’ll go check everywhere else. But Buck, listen to me. All the murder suspects except Beth Ferguson are out here somewhere. I mean, they aren’t locked up. What if—”

  “What if the killer knows you was snooping around like you’re not sposta be doing, and abducted your father to get back at you? Mr. Fracasso is a growed man. Looked strong enough when I met him. You think he couldn’t defend himself?”

  “But what if the killer has a gun or something?” I heard my voice rise with impatience. “What if Abe is hurt, too?” I stared at the path. I could swear I saw something purple hanging from a bush.

  “Robbie, calm down now. Tell you what. I’ll alert Wanda. I know she was working the festival tonight.”

  “That’s not going to work. She took Beth in for questioning an hour ago.” I kept staring into the woods, which were getting darker by the minute now the sun had finally set. I couldn’t see the purple color any more. I shivered.

  “All righty then. I’ll put my uniform back on and come down there. It’s the wife’s birthday and we was finishing a nice dinner. Candles and all whatnot. But I’ll help you.”

  How thoughtless could I be, calling him on a Friday night? “I’m sorry. Never mind. Don’t leave your nice dinner.”

  “The wife would be most appreciative if I stayed put. But listen up. They’ve got to have security guards around the festival. Find one. They’ll help you out. Maybe they can even make a announcement, you know, from up on the stage or somewheres.”

  “Good idea. I’m sorry I bothered you, Buck. Please tell your wife happy birthday from me.”

  “I will, soon’s I hang up. You stay safe, now.”

  “Thanks.” I disconnected the call. This evening was going to all heck in handbasket, as Adele would say. I wished we’d never come to the festival. We could have stayed at Abe’s house, comfortable and safe, having coffee or an after-dinner drink, getting some last visiting in before my visitors left tomorrow. Instead, here I was in the dark with a few thousand strangers. I was separated from Roberto and Abe, two of the three people I loved most in the world, Adele being the third. I also didn’t know where Corrine had gone. I hoped I could find my way back to Maria and Danna. I should touch base with them before hunting down a security guard. Except I didn’t want to arrive empty-handed, so to speak. I’d seen how worried Maria was.

  My phone dinged with an incoming text. Abe? I checked it. Not from Abe, but from Danna. Mom’s back here. Where are u?

  Whew. At least Corrine hadn’t gone missing, too.

  I tapped in a return message. At restrooms. Going to find security guard for help.

  Ding.

  Hurry. Maria about to lose it.

  I turned to go find a guard. And turned back. I had to at least take a look at the opening. I wouldn’t go any farther alone. I hit the flashlight app on my phone and moved toward the path, scanning it back and forth as I went.

  The light fell on purple. My heart thudded. It had to be Abe’s handkerchief. I rushed toward the spot a few yards away . . . and tripped on a root. The phone went flying. I crashed onto my right knee before my hands hit the ground. I swore out loud. Then I cursed myself silently. What if Abe and Roberto had been attacked and now the bad guy knew where I was, too?

  Chapter Forty-four

  I carefully pushed up to standing, dusting myself off, testing my knee. All systems were go, except for my phone. I peered into the underbrush. A glimmer of light peeked out at me. I retrieved it and dusted it off, too. No cracks, and still operational thanks to the military-grade rubber case which protected it from a klutzy owner. I heaved a sigh of relief worthy of a Tour de France cyclist at the finish line.

  I wanted to shout Abe’s name, and my father’s, too. Instead, I gave up on the purple handkerchief and hurried around to the front of the building. Where was I going to find a guard? I remembered where we’d entered the park. There had to be an office of some kind there. But the entrance was on the opposite side from where I stood. Shouldn’t guards be patrolling among us? Guarding the periphery? Making sure people didn’t get drunk and into fights? Although as a rule, bluegrass fans were a pretty congenial group.

  Wait. Drunk. There had to be a guard near the beer booth to police underage drinking if nothing else. I made my feet of lead move until I was walking normally. I hadn’t even reached the beer booth when I saw a bulky someone heading my way wearing the bright yellow polo shirt of the park staff. I hurried to meet him.

  “Excuse me, sir.” I waved at him to catch his attention.

  “Can I help you, miss?” He was as tall as Buck but probably weighed half again as much. The weight looked like it was all muscle, with his biceps straining at the sleeves. BCMP SECURITY was embroidered on his shirt and he wore a name badge that read LONNIE. On his belt hung a walkie-talkie.

  I opened my mouth. What was I going to tell him? I should keep it simple. “My father has gone missing here somewhere. He’s visiting from Italy, and I’m a bit worried about him.”

  Lonnie ushered me to the side of the walkway, which was full of people moving in each direction, many carrying instruments, some moseying, some walking briskly to the rhythm coming from loudspeakers. One young couple, hand in hand, danced to the music as they walked.

  The guard cocked his head. To his credit he didn’t look at me like I was nuts. “Does your pa have dementia?”

  I glanced again at his eyes, which were a deep blue. “No, not at all. He’s a professor, and not so old. Maybe sixty, tops. And he speaks English pretty well, too. But maybe he got, um, turned around or something.”

  “What is your name, and your father’s?”

  “I’m Robbie Jordan and he’s Roberto Fracasso.”

  “Lonnie Dinnsen,” He took a closer look. “You the Miz Jordan who runs that really tasty breakfast joint? I hear about you all over the place.”

  “I own and run Pans ’N Pancakes in South
Lick, yes. We offer breakfast, lunch, and vintage kitchenware.”

  He nodded knowingly. “And you’re some kind of private detective, too, am I right?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Say, what about this week, huh? Not one but two murders.” He whistled. “One of ’em our own Miz Berry, too. It’s a crying shame, that’s what it is.”

  “Those murders are why I’m worried for my father, Lonnie.” Since he’d broken the ice, so to speak, I might as well tell him the truth. “I’ve kind of been poking around, asking some questions, and I thought maybe the murderer,” or one of them, “might have lured Roberto into a dangerous situation. To get back at me or lure me into the same danger.”

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah. On top of it, my boyfriend went to look for Roberto and now he hasn’t come back, either, and he’s not answering my texts. His name is Abe O’Neill.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, Miz Jordan. First imma call festival headquarters and tell ’em to keep a lookout for your papa and for Mr. O’Neill, too.”

  “Can they make an announcement to have them meet me at the gate?”

  “I don’t see why not.” He pulled out his walkie-talkie and turned up the sound.

  At first all I heard was a bunch of static, and then Lonnie relayed my message.

  “Roberto Fracasso, right?” he checked with me.

  I nodded, even though he’d butchered the pronunciation, saying something like Ruhbirdo Frack-uh-so. He was so friendly and helpful I wanted to hug this guy.

  He put the walkie-talkie back in its holder. “Okey-doke. They’re gonna do it on each stage next chance they get.” He narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t told the police?”

  “I called Buck Bird. He’s the lieutenant over in South Lick where my store is. Buck suggested I find a security guard here.”

  “I know Buck. Good man. Anyways, we’re in county jurisdiction here. It’s not his territory.” He pointed a finger at me. “We’ll find your menfolk, little lady. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  Little lady? I felt my ire rising at the term but I tamped it down. I needed the guard’s help. As for not worrying? Easier said than done, big guy.

  “Do you have a flashlight?” I asked Lonnie.

  “Sure, I got me a light.” He pulled a good-sized flashlight out of his back pocket.

  “I’d really like it if you’d come with me to check something out. I saw a path going into the woods behind the building there.” I pointed.

  “I know that path. It leads out to Toothpick Hill Road eventually, but it goes through the woods quite a piece first. What do you need checked out?”

  “I might have seen my boyfriend’s handkerchief on a bush. I was thinking maybe he went on the path looking for Roberto. My father.”

  Lonnie cocked his head as if evaluating if I was a nut job or not, then finally nodded. “I’ll come with you. Lemme radio in my position first.” He clicked on his walkie-talkie and conveyed his plan. A static-filled reply I couldn’t understand came back.

  I glanced at my phone. No new texts, and the time was nine-forty already. I tapped my leg in a fast rhythm. Let’s go, already.

  “Ten four,” Lonnie added before turning the volume down again. “Cleared to proceed.”

  We made our way around to the back of the restrooms. In the distance I heard a cheer go up from the audience at the amphitheater. Some big name must have come onstage. Lonnie clicked on his light after the building blocked most of the illumination from the festival. He scanned the flashlight beam back and forth until it landed on the opening in the woods. “You with me?” he asked.

  “I’m right behind you. If you see a purple handkerchief, stop. I think it was on the left a little ways in.”

  Sure enough, he hadn’t taken two steps in when he halted. The light shone full on Abe’s handkerchief, still partly folded, where it was snagged on the bare branch of a young shagbark hickory. I peered around Lonnie’s side.

  “It’s Abe’s. See? He even gets them monogrammed.” I pointed to the initials AJO in a corner of the hanky. Abraham James O’Neill. Had he left it there on purpose as a signpost? Had he left it because he was in trouble or had lost his phone, or had he dropped it accidentally while he went looking for my father?

  “Fancy. I think we’ll leave it there, if you don’t mind, miss.” He pulled out a phone and snapped a picture of the handkerchief. “Could be evidence.”

  Evidence. “Okay.” I swallowed down the tremble in my voice. “Can we keep going?”

  He looked at me and frowned. “I’m not so sure you should be accompanying me. Being that you’re a civilian and all.”

  “Please?” I hated how plaintive I sounded. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I know both of them, and they know my voice. Plus, you should have company.”

  He scrunched one eye closed, peering at me with the other like I’d made a ludicrous suggestion. He opened his eye again. “Not sure how a little bit of a thing like you is going to help me. But you win. Come along.”

  He had a point, I had to admit. I was simply glad he was letting me go with him. If he’d been Buck, or worse, Detective Henderson, I was pretty sure I would have been told in no uncertain terms to go back to my seat and wait. Waiting is not one of my superpowers.

  Lonnie shone the light on the ground ahead and set out with careful steps, treading with amazing silence for such a big man. I followed.

  We walked quietly for what seemed like forever. I pulled out my phone to check the time. Only five minutes had actually elapsed. Still no text from Abe. My hands felt numb, distant, and I almost dropped the phone before I slid it into my pocket.

  Lonnie threw an arm out to the side and stopped so abruptly I ran into his bulk.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  He twisted to look at me and held a finger to his lips. The kindly smiling guard was gone, replaced by an all-business watchman. He cupped a hand to his ear.

  I did, too. I caught a faint low sound. Not the rustle of leaves or the scrabbling of a small woods mammal. It was a human sound. A moan.

  Chapter Forty-five

  I tugged at Lonnie’s sleeve. He nodded, holding up a hand in a Stop gesture. We both stood stock-still, listening. There. Another moan, fainter this time. Coming from ahead. Lonnie began to move forward, slowly, carefully. I followed, equally carefully. The darkness smelled damp, of pine needles and leaf mold.

  He switched the light to a red beam. It still lit up the path but wasn’t as bright as the brilliant white in the dark. I kept my gaze on the circle of red as we walked with excruciatingly slow steps. It was like gliding through a dream. Or rather, a nightmare.

  The light moved onto an orange athletic shoe. A fluorescent orange tennie. I inhaled sharply. In a second Lonnie had illuminated Abe lying on his side, one arm flung up over his ear as if fending off a blow.

  My heart was in my throat, beating like a hurricane. I could hardly swallow. My eyes filled. I brought my hand to my mouth.

  Lonnie handed me the light and knelt. I shone the light on Abe’s head as Lonnie checked his neck for a pulse. He nodded and gave me a thumbs-up.

  Abe was alive. But unconscious. He moaned and shifted his legs.

  I knelt on his other side, laying my hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Abe,” I whispered.

  His eyes fluttered open but remained half lidded. “Wha . . .” he murmured.

  “It’s okay,” I responded in kind, stroking his face.

  Lonnie again put his finger to his lips. Questions flooded my brain. Where was Roberto? Who had done this to Abe, and what had they done? Where was the criminal now? Lurking nearby? Driving Roberto somewhere?

  Abe’s eyes came all the way open. He glanced from me to Lonnie and back. His eyes went wider. He struggled to sit up. Lonnie put his thick arm behind Abe’s shoulders and helped him. Abe winced. He swore in a low raspy voice.

  “What happened?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Searched everywhere,” he whispered back. �
��Saw the path. Thought Roberto might have gone this way. Came to find him. Thought I saw a clearing ahead. Heard a sound. Then, I don’t know.”

  “Where are you hurt?” I asked.

  He felt the back of his head. When he brought his hand back, the red light showed a darker red blotch. “I guess somebody knocked me out.”

  My eyes had adjusted enough to see Lonnie frowning. I wanted to do the same but didn’t want to worry Abe. What should we do now? Keep looking for Roberto? He might be similarly knocked out just ahead. Or worse. I almost lost it picturing him in distress. But I didn’t want to leave Abe here. He needed medical attention. From the look on Lonnie’s face, I expected he was beset with the same questions.

  Abe made a few of my worries moot. He extended a hand to Lonnie. “Help me up, man.”

  Lonnie reached his meaty hand to Abe, who stood.

  “We have to find Roberto,” Abe said.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him, rubbing his arm, searching his face.

  “I can see fine.” He extended his arms to the side and stood still for a moment. “I’m not off balance. Head hurts a little, but not bad. I’m not concussed. Scalp wounds bleed a lot. I’ll have a goose egg tomorrow, but I’m good to keep going.”

  He’d been a medic in the military some years ago, a piece of his past I occasionally spaced out on, and he knew how to assess his own well-being. He extended his hand to Lonnie.

  “Abe O’Neill.”

  The guard shook his hand. “Lonnie Dinnsen. Security guard for the park.”

  “Can you sweep the ground with your light?” Abe asked. “I dropped mine.”

  I was getting antsy to keep going toward my father, but conceded two lights would be better than one. Using the light app on my phone burned battery like nobody’s business, and my charge was already running low.