“I don’t usually come through walls,” Gracie explained with a gentle air of apology, “but with all the people around—” She started to shrug, but faded from view as the sound of footsteps pounded down the hall.
Luci leaned towards Mickey and said with an air of one giving a confidence, “Maybe we shouldn’t mention Gracie.”
Mickey looked at Delaney. He was trying not to laugh. Or cry. It was hard to tell because they both began with the same grimace.
Mickey started patting his pockets for his new bottle of aspirin.
“The one called Donald killed it,” Luci said from her corner. “You left it on the mantel.”
Mickey looked up just in time to see a tech step on a scattered section of tablets and grind them to powder. In the mirror above the dresser he saw his eye give a big twitch, then settle into a small but steady rhythm, in sync with the pounding in his head.
Who’d have thought Donald and Fern would lose it so completely, Artie wondered? He had watched them being wheeled out on stretchers from his place with the catering staff and it hadn’t been a pretty sight. What had happened to them in that room upstairs? No question the old ladies were trying. He’d come close to offing them himself a time or two, but to reduce that emotionless pair to gibbering idiots? Only upside was they looked too whacked out to rat him out.
Would the cops search the whole place? He had to face it. They’d find the money. He could walk away from it, but—he dabbed at the sweat forming beads on his forehead, he’d worked so hard to get it. It couldn’t go wrong now. It just couldn’t. He’d worked too long, too hard to make it all happen. He couldn’t lose Helen now. He wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t lose his money, either. Not while there was still a chance to get it. One more chance.
One thing was clear. He’d have to take care of Luci himself. She was the only person who could put him together with Helen and Butt Had.
But how to do it? And how to get out of here before they discovered his other mistake?
A cop approached the restive catering group and said, “We’re going to search and print each of you, then you can leave.”
Not good, but it could be worse. Much worse. Artie went to the head of line. By the time they matched his prints with his record, he planned to be long gone.
Luci was starting to develop a twitch, too. Her father was dying to get into the thick of the investigation, but felt compelled to be paternal. Since he wasn’t about to start hugging her in front of the guys, he might as well get on with it.
She turned and said, “If you need to supervise things, I’m fine.”
He looked torn between old duty and new. “Well, if you’re sure you’re all right?”
“Absolutely sure.”
His reluctance plain, Pryce joined the group around the fireplace. Idly, Luci noticed Mickey had the best ass in the group, though Delaney’s wasn’t bad either. Nearly dying sharpened one’s appreciation of the finer things of life.
Mickey was in position to see the dead man’s face as the techs started to ease it out onto a tarp.
“Damn.” Mickey straightened, his face grim.
Delaney’s view was still blocked. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to get Dante up here. Oh, and Delaney?”
“Yeah?”
“Have someone search them down to their toenails. We’ll want their guns for forensics.” Mickey rubbed his face again, then turned back to Pryce. “Now can I search this place, sir?”
Pryce looked at Luci. “We’ll have no trouble getting a warrant. Be better if you cooperate.”
She hesitated, her thoughts on the missing body and the shoeboxes in the attic that were starting to make more sense, but she nodded. It was time for the chips—and the bodies—to fall where they may. “I’ll clear it with the aunts.”
“Thanks.” Mickey nodded towards the splintered fireplace. “You want to explain why you went off with a stranger when you knew someone was trying to kill you?”
Her mouth twitched. “Hey, I just thought she was an old lady who needed to pee. And none of us were sure—”
“Well, we sure as hell are sure now! Did they say why?”
“No. They said it wasn’t any of my business.” Mickey gave her an exasperated look that Luci met with a limpid one. “It was a badly played scene from the get-go. I was missing the Hepplewhites and they were missing me—”
“Any idea why they went catatonic without killing you, Luci?” Pryce asked.
“I think they saw a...ghost,” Luci said.
He twitched. “Shit.”
“No shit,” Mickey said morosely.
Mickey’s headache was doing better. He’d found some aspirin tablets that had rolled under the bed. The twitch had slowed to intermittent, but everything else was still screwed up. The good news was that Dante wasn’t happy either, because it was Max, Dante’s assistant, whose body had been taken out of the chimney and was now lying in front of the fireplace with two bullet holes in his back.
Dante looked shaken, angry. “What the hell happened here? And where’s my aunt?”
“None of your damn business what happened here,” Pryce snapped. “Ross? Send someone to find his aunt.”
“Can they take her home?” Dante countered, starting to regain his equilibrium. After all, he was no stranger to the grim reaper.
“Not until she answers some questions,” Mickey said, stepping up to Dante, just hoping he’d take a swing.
“She doesn’t know anything.” Dante looked like he’d like to oblige Mickey.
“Then she doesn’t need to worry.” Mickey got right in his face. “You, however, should worry.”
“I,” Dante said, not giving an inch, “want my lawyer.”
“Get him out of here,” Pryce ordered, shoving a hand through his hair.
“Can I leave then?”
“No. You can wait until your lawyer gets here. Put him outside and watch him.”
When a uniform had hustled Dante away, Mickey turned to Pryce. “Look, sir, we can’t begin to do a thorough search with all these people around. We gotta clear some space.”
“If we get names and addresses, we can let most people leave.” Pryce thought for a moment. “I’ll go down, pass who I can. Delaney can get statements from anyone I can’t personally vouch for. I’ll try to free up as many people as I can to help search.” In a rare show of emotion, he ruffled his own hair. “What a mess.”
“Sir?” Mickey gestured towards the seated Luci. “I’ll bet Luci would be a big help clearing people to leave.”
Luci shrugged and stood up, her eyes promising future retribution for Mickey as Pryce ushered her out.
Mickey grinned, then turned to his men. “We take this place apart top to bottom. Leave no stone unturned, no cupboard unsearched, no door closed. Got it?”
As soon as Pryce got distracted by the governor Luci slipped away and joined her aunts. Not because she was worried they’d be upset. She was starting to worry they’d done it. There didn’t seem to be a lot of other viable suspects that she could see.
The time had come to ask, so she did.
“Kill anyone?” Miss Theo looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so, dear. Hermi, Weena, have you killed anyone?”
Hermi smiled. “I’ll admit I thought about killing Reggie when he first showed up here. It was bad enough that he was a Seymour without being an ex-con, but he turned out not so bad.” She brightened. “And the gazebo turned out lovely.”
All eyes turned to Weena. She ruffled indignantly. “What makes you think I’d kill Reggie?”
“Well, you do have a gun, dear,” Miss Theo pointed out.
Luci found herself wishing she’d picked up a few aspirin, too.
“So? Doesn’t mean I’d kill Reggie with it. Besides, I gave it to Reggie before he left for Cleveland.” She stuck her tongue out at her sister, then added, “I must say, I thought it was very tacky of him to show up here with that woman. Can you imagine what Velma would have done if she’d come after all?”
<
br /> Luci felt her eye twitch. It was an odd sensation, one she’d never felt before. Had finding her father somehow brought her Pryce-ness into ascendancy? She was seeing the world though non-Seymour eyes. And it wasn’t pretty.
“Reggie...” She rubbed the twitching spot. “...was at the party?”
Each aunt gave a sigh and a nod. Taking care of them was turning out to be a bigger job than even she had imagined. “With a woman?”
“Well, he was invited.” Hermi shrugged.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Well, I was going to tell him how much I liked the gazebo, but then the Hepplewhites came out and—”
“I think I understand.” Luci had to smile, though a little ruefully. “It might be better if you don’t mention Reggie’s specter to Mickey. He has a headache.”
“But, Luci dear,” Miss Theo protested. “Perhaps the dear boy would like to ask Reggie who shot him? Wouldn’t that be good for his headache?”
“Only if he knows who shot him,” Miss Weena pointed out. “I mean, Gracie doesn’t know who shot her. And this is Reggie we’re talking about. If he hadn’t mismanaged his death he wouldn’t have turned up under a bush.”
“I expect you’re right, Miss Weena.” Luci was really feeling the strain. Was this how Mickey felt all the time? No wonder he wanted to strangle her. “And it’s not like the testimony of a ghost is permissible in a court of law.”
“We probably shouldn’t mention this to Velma either.” Miss Theo glanced towards Velma’s house. “They weren’t married and Reggie is free to choose a more—accessible companion—now that he’s dead, but it’s not particularly sensitive of him. She was practically a carbon copy of poor Velma, too.”
“Really?” This was interesting, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. There was something about Velma that kept teasing the edge of her brain. Something...but what?
“Miss Luci?”
The uniformed officer had approached without them noticing.
“Yes?” She felt the beginnings of apprehension tighten her insides. Had they found the missing corpse? Luci looked at her aunts, their aging eyes as tranquil as always.
“Could you come with me?”
Luci gave the uniform a nod, then with a reassuring look at her aunts she followed him through the thinning party crowd to the front parlor Mickey and Delaney had been using since the discovery of the first body. With a respectful nod, he held the door for her to enter, then closed it quietly behind her.
He’d found the shoeboxes. They were stacked in piles taller than her around the room.
Which is probably why she didn’t notice the corpse right away.
19
Artie was shaking as he fumbled some coins into the slot, then sank onto the closest empty bench. With a jerk, the trolley moved forward, the motion barely moving the air around the stuffy interior.
As he waited for his heartbeat to slow, he pulled out a large handkerchief and mopped his damp forehead, then swabbed at the moisture that had collected around his shirt collar. Pity about Harriet. But couldn’t be helped. Should have taken her loss on the chin instead of showing up at the party with an attitude.
“Are you all right?”
He couldn’t repress a slight flinch as he searched for a face to fit the female voice. He didn’t have to look far. In the seat just behind his was an older woman, a plain woman with her graying hair neatly styled beneath a straw hat with a narrow brim decorated with a small bunch of dried flowers. Her clothes were also neat and plain, except for the astrological sign pinned to her lapel. There was a look in her faded eyes that Artie recognized.
He shrugged the slump from his shoulders, his hand moving automatically to his tie. He smiled, using equal parts charm and wan.
“It’s the heat, I think. Guess I’m not used to.”
“You’re from out of town?” A delicate pink touched the pale cheeks.
“From Cleveland. Here on business. But enough about me. Tell me about you—
Like a flower getting needed rain, her smile bloomed on her face.
“You opening a shoe store?” Luci asked from the doorway.
“Come in and shut the door.” Mickey watched her comply with his request, then lean against the closed door. She looked good against the stark wooden surface, the crossed ankles and calves hinting at further glories hidden by her party skirt. The shadows that hid her expression made her even harder to read than usual. “I’m sure what’s inside will be a big surprise to you.”
She stopped by one stack of boxes and lifted the lid to look at the neat rows of dollar bills. Her brows rose. “Are they all one dollar bills?”
Mickey nodded. “At least now I know what Dante wanted,” he said. “Somehow he must have found out about the scam that Reggie and whoever killed him ran and wanted to be cut in.”
“Well, well. Reggie, you old dog.”
“What do you mean?”
Luci gave a slight laugh. “He cheated fate. A dollar at a time. Finally got his successful scam.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh as she fingered the bills, then closed the lid. “And then fate squashed him like a bug.”
“It might not have been his scam,” Mickey said. “We haven’t been able to match any of the prints we’ve found in the house to his.”
Luci seemed to find this interesting. “Really?” She frowned. “But if Reggie wasn’t here, how did he wind up under a bush?”
“Unless—”
Luci looked at him. “—the man they thought was Reggie—”
“—wasn’t,” Mickey finished. “Whoever it is, he was a busy bee at the party.” He walked over to a chair and turned it to face Luci, watching her face as the slumped body came into view. Though brief, it was surprise that flickered across her face. “Don’t suppose you recognize her?”
Luci was more than surprised. She studied the older woman dressed with a certain dowdy elegance, feeling a distinct sense of deja vu, if only she could figure out why…
“How come you aren’t doing the dust and poke thing?”
“Because Crime Scene is still working upstairs. And—” he was almost shuffling his feet, she noticed with amusement. “I didn’t notice her right away.”
“She looks like she’s sleeping.” Luci crouched down in front of the body and peered at her face, her sense that she was on the verge of a moment of clarity growing stronger.
“No kidding. I even tried to wake her up. That’s when I discovered the bullet hole. Looks like she was plugged right through the heart. Close range, too if the powder burns are any indication.”
“My elderly hitters?”
“I don’t think so. Different caliber weapon. I’m betting it’ll turn out to be the same gun that killed Max, Reggie, and the frozen John Doe. Our geriatric hitters were carrying a silenced 9mm Luger.”
Luci looked up at him. “Why didn’t we hear these shots? I mean, the music wasn’t that loud.”
“Killer used pillows to muffle the sound. Found one under her chair with her purse and the one used on Max was tossed behind the bed.”
“Really? How very enterprising.” She stood up, but continued to stare at the body, straining for that niggling something that was just out of mental reach.
“What?”
Luci looked up and gave a little shake. Mickey didn’t like hearing what she could remember. No reason to share what she couldn’t. “Odd coincidence we had two killers operating in the same house on the same day. Even for Seymours, I think it’s a record.”
“What makes you think it is a coincidence?” Mickey stepped closer, risking her volatile proximity so he could monitor her reaction.
“What else could it be?” The honest surprise in her eyes deflected suspicion, but he still felt she knew more than she was telling him.
“It has to be, doesn’t it? You just said that my elderly couple didn’t do this.”
“Just seems like too much of a coincidence. Wondered if you had any ideas?” Her smile was the one
that always curled his toes. Made his shoes and his heart feel tight.
“You never like my ideas. They make your head ache.”
Mickey shifted impatiently. “That’s because—”
He stopped himself from finishing the sentence. Being told her ideas made no sense wouldn’t encourage her to share what she knew. And there was no getting away from the fact that her family’s pervasive personality played into the whole situation—which gave her an insider’s edge that he, unfortunately, needed right now, even if it did make his head ache.
She watched him, her arms crossed, looking at him in a way that told him he’d have to ask nicely. There would be no free flow of information. He didn’t mind climbing up, but down—
Luci watched him trying to choke down his pride. Poor guy. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to navigate the Seymour Zone, but until he was willing to listen, there wasn’t much she could tell him that would help.
He gagged a few more times, then managed to choke out, “Anything in particular strike you about all this?”
It was only a small step for her, but a big step for Mickey, so she decided to meet him part way. “I did notice that wedding theme popping up again.”
He tried, but failed to control a flinch that also put the twitch back in his right eye. If he didn’t do something about all that bottled-up stress he was going to look like Clouseau’s Chief Inspector from the Pink Panther movies.
“Wedding…themes?”
“Did you notice her,” Luci nodded in the direction of the body, “wedding ring is new? The edges are barely worn.”
The twitch got a little worse, but he did go look at the ring. “So it is.” He swallowed a few times, then squeezed out, “Anything else?”
The trouble was, so much of what she noticed were feelings, not things that could be seen. Still, she owed it to him to try. “Reggie and Frosty were naked, but Max and this woman are clothed.”
“I guess our killer didn’t have time to strip these two—what with the party going on around.”
Luci gave him an approving smile. “Exactly. He’s starting to make mistakes.” Playing his sidekick was kind of fun when he didn’t whine. It would be interesting to see how long he could take it. She tapped a finger on her chin. “You found the money in the attic, but Dante’s guy was in the chimney in your room—”
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