“Could you tell me what brought you over here in the first place?” Cannon asked.
She resisted the urge to respond with my truck. “I went by the library and Durgan was in a snit because Lonnie didn’t show for work. He said he’d been calling her place and getting nothing but a busy signal. I knew Lonnie well enough to know she wouldn’t just lay out of work and that something had to be wrong, so I came over here to check on her. I found the back door broken in, so I went in and looked around, and first I found Mazie back in that corner, then I found Lonnie in the tub...”
She paused, biting her lip.
“Did you touch anything?” Sheriff Cannon asked.
“I saw Tom pick up some pottery and put it on the mantle,” she said. “I kicked a pillow, petted Mazie, picked up the phone and pushed open the door to the bathroom. That’s about it. Oh, and there was a book. I left it on the bed.”
“The one on Cherokee folklore?” Cannon asked.
Katie nodded. “She’d marked a page, underlining Yunwi Tsunsdi.”
“Yunwi Teesundee?” Cannon said and looked at Dan. “What’s that?”
“Little people,” Katie replied. “They’re the Cherokee version of faeries.”
Cannon made a face. The word faeries must have ticked him off just a tad, because his features hardened. “Yeah, well, it’s probably nothing,” he said. “I been getting all kinds of crank calls about funny little people and stuff lately. I beginning to think the whole town’s infected with mischief.”
“In many ways, you’re quite right,” Tom said.
Cannon merely narrowed an eye on the old man before shaking his head. “You didn’t touch anything in the bathroom, did you?” the Sheriff asked.
“No,” Katie said. “Once I looked in and saw what they’d done to her, I had to get out of the house and get some air.”
“They?” Cannon said. “So you think there was more than one too?”
“One faery does not a Host make,” Tom quipped, earning himself another nasty glance from the Sheriff.
Cannon sighed, looking like he was seriously considering running Tom in on principle.
“One person, human or otherwise, couldn’t have done all that,” Katie insisted. “Surely, the coroner will be able to tell that she was attacked by more than one.”
“Yes, well, Dr. Fields from the County Coroner’s office is in there now, and he did seem to think there were different sized bites,” Cannon agreed. “We’re dealing with a sick bunch though. Dr. Fields says some of those bites must have been left by children.”
“Goblins come in all sizes,” Katie said.
Cannon’s glower fixed on her. “I’d expect better of you, Miss MacLeod, than to even speak such a ridiculous notion.”
“Truth will out, is what Cervantes said,” Katie replied.
Sheriff Cannon glanced at Dan. “You might better keep your sweetheart away from old Tom,” Cannon said, jerking a thumb at the old man. “She’s starting to sound just like him.”
At least, my head’s not in the sand, she thought glumly. God, how was she going to convince these people of the danger when they started thinking she was as loony as Tom? Who isn’t so loony after all. At least, he knew the truth as well as spoke it. Cannon scribbled a few notes. “We’ll get your statement typed and ask you to come in later and sign it, Miss MacLeod. Oh, and we’ll need to take your prints then. You too, Tom, but only if you promise to behave yourself.”
Tom put a hand to his chest, wagging his eyebrows as though mortally wounded by the suggestion. Katie merely nodded. She wanted away from this place. Cannon was no help. Nor was Dan just now. He’d just doing his job, she reminded herself. Besides, since there was no way she was going to convince the law to help her, it looked like she would be taking matters into her own hands...
The doctor from the county coroner’s department came across the yard. “Sheriff,” he said. “Got something here you might find of interest.”
“Yeah, what?” Cannon asked.
The coroner help forth an object partially wrapped in a handkerchief. A key. Katie opened her mouth in surprise. It was the exact mate to the key she carried in her pocket now.
“Found that in the victim’s hand, the one that was under her body,” the coroner said. “Don’t know if she pulled it off her attacker or not, but there’s a bit of broken cord with a tassel hanging off it too...”
“That’s the key!” Katie said, starting forward at a lurch.
“Hold up here,” Cannon barked. “What do you mean, that’s the key?”
“The key I was looking for earlier, when I was at the MacGreeley’s house!” she said, then took a deep breath. “The key I wanted for the display, the one the blue man stole.”
“Really,” Cannon said. “Then maybe this is the connection we’ve been looking for Dan. If it is them drifters, this could be our key to rounding them up and arresting them for murder.” He folded the handkerchief over the key, chuckling at his own joke.
“No, wait, you can’t...” Katie started forward again. “I have to have that!”
Cannon gave her a quizzical look. “Why?”
“Well...” She saw Tom shake his head and slide his hands into his pockets. “For the display, of course. I mean, we need it.”
“This key is evidence,” Cannon said. “I’m sorry, but your display can’t have it.”
He started to slip it into his own shirt pocket.
“No, you don’t understand!” Katie insisted and lunged at Cannon, hoping to seize the key and flee.
Dan suddenly shot into her path, flinging arms around her to hold her back. “Katie,” he said.
“No, let go! I’ve got to have that key!”
“Katie!” His grasp tightened as she struggled. In anger, she rammed an elbow into his ribs. He released her with a startled “whoof!” Once free, she started at Cannon like an arrow, determined to seize the key. But Dan was quicker to recover than she anticipated. He seized her arm, snapping her back into his grasp.
At the same time, Cannon stepped back in his own defense, throwing himself into Tom. There was a moment when it looked like Cannon would fall as he danced about on one leg, leaning sideways. His handkerchief-wrapped burden dropped to the grass with a thunk. Tom crouched and snatched it to him, and Katie almost cheered, hoping he would make for the woods. She concentrated on breaking Dan’s grasp as her head formulated a plan. She would get to the truck, pick Tom up and head for the library. They could lock themselves into the cellars.
It was not to be so, however. Cannon recovered with a snarl, and Tom, instead of rising and running, offered forth the small, wrapped packet as docile as a child.
“NO!” Katie snapped.
Cannon practically snatched the packet from the old man, shoving it into a hip pocket with a sour glare at her. “Evidence, Miss MacLeod,” he said. “Dan, I’ll see you at the station. You finish closing things up here.”
“Yes, sir,” Dan said, releasing Katie.
“Damn you, Tom, you had it!” she railed at him, waving her arms. “How are we supposed to get in now?”
Dan cut her tirade short, pulling her back around to face him. “Damn, it, Katie, that was a stupid thing to do!” he admonished. “Did you know he could have arrested you for obstructing justice!”
“I think the term is removing evidence from the scene of a crime, Dan,” she countered hotly. “And assaulting an officer—because if you grab me like that one more time...!”
“Whatever!” he retorted.
Tom suddenly cleared his throat. “Since you must finish with matters here, Deputy,” Tom said, “I shall see to it that Miss MacLeod returns to her home to rest, if that suits you.”
“Fine!” Dan said, shooting Tom a rough glare, then starting for the house. “Just keep her out of trouble until I get there, will you?”
“I shall do my utmost to fulfill that wish,” Tom said most dutifully, and marched across the short distance to seize Katie’s arm. Dan shook his head, stal
king back towards the house.
“Hey!” she said, struggling against a grasp much stronger than she suspected necessary.
“It’s for your own good, lass,” Tom said, starting her for the truck. “There’s naught we can do here.”
“There’s nothing we can do anywhere!” she retorted, “thanks to you giving that key back to Cannon!”
“You have no faith in me, then, lady Katie,” Tom said.
“I’d have more faith in that...” The pressure on her arm increased drastically, burning her skin under her shirt. “Ow, let go of me before I...”
“Calm, lass, you’ll do neither of us any good by raising such a fuss and drawing their attention,” he said and moved his hand before her in a restraining gesture, showing her his palm, and the tip end of a blood-stained key up his sleeve.
“How... Damn you, let go! I’m going, all right?”
“Better,” Tom said with a merry twinkle belying his grim expression. He, released her arm and let her lead the way to the truck. She scrambled into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as Tom crawled into the passenger seat. There, he slid the key out of his sleeve and laid it close to her. Though caked with blood, the iron shone as though polished regularly. Totally unlike the one in her pocket in that respect.
“You didn’t really think I was going to let the Sheriff leave with our one hope now, did you?” Tom said.
“How did you manage to get it?” she said, staring at the thing with a shiver of wonder. “I saw you give it to Cannon.”
“A little slight of hand learned from dealing with faery.”
“You stole evidence right off the Sheriff?” she said, realizing she sounded more than delighted by the idea.
“It wasn’t stealing,” Tom insisted. “It was mine to begin with. And anyway, my taking it subtly was less obvious than you going for his throat.”
“But he stuck it in his pocket. How could he miss feeling the key itself?”
“‘Twas one of my smallest pennywhistles with a mouth harp shoved into the opening that went into the Sheriff’s pocket,” Tom said. “A trifling possession, and I shall get it back eventually. The two together were stiff enough and shaped just right to deceive him into thinking he still had the key. Which means, he shall know I took it, and waste little time seeking me out for it. So we’d best head for the library now and see to matters there.”
Katie had no idea how Tom had managed to slip the key out of those white folds or substitute the whistle for it. She could only feel a certain amount of relief and gratitude to know that he did.
FOURTEEN
Katie used the short drive to Mercyville to settle matters in her own mind. Lonnie was dead. The thought that she would never be at the library to assist in undermining the moments of stressful madness with humor left a bitterness in Katie. She wanted vengeance now. She wanted the Erl-King’s head on a platter. He had overstepped the line, killing Katie’s cousin. Faery mischief was one thing. Faery murder was another.
The only thing Katie dreaded was knowing she would have to tell people about Lonnie’s death, and under the circumstances, she felt it better that she didn’t say anything until Sheriff Cannon finished his report and she had taken care of the matter of closing the dark gate.
Mercyville’s town square looked a trifle cleaner now. Katie realized, as she rounded past the diner, she was getting hungry. She pulled the truck in before the Mountain Laurel Diner, looking at Tom. “Fill our stomachs first?” she suggested. “I don’t like the idea of facing the Erl-King on an empty one.”
Tom nodded. “I’ll have to depend on your good graces, however,” he said. “I’m not carrying any pocket change on me just now.”
“My treat,” Katie said. She got out of the truck, glancing towards the library, and frowned. There were several people out front, various locals looking upset. Mr. Rafferty was among the onlookers, staring at his watch and scowling at the door. “What’s going on over there?” Katie muttered.
Tom shrugged. “Shall we go find out?”
They cut across the town square, skirting the statues and the concrete-covered tree stump. And as they got closer to the old building, Katie could see what was causing all the fuss. The library’s door carried a sign that said “Closed for repairs.” She recognized the handwriting as Durgan’s scrawl.
“Closed for repairs?” she muttered.
“No problem,” Tom said in a low voice. “We can still get in, you know. Let’s go have lunch.”
“But what kind of repairs...” Katie glanced towards the windows of Durgan’s office. The blinds moved just slightly as though someone had just released them.
“It was ridiculous,” one mother, clutching the hand of her four-year-old, insisted, speaking to another mother who looked equally upset. “He came in and told the staff to clear everyone out of the building as there were some structural weaknesses.”
“Excuse me,” Katie said. “Who?”
“Why, Mr. Durgan, of course,” the mother said. “He said there was a big water leak in the basement, and it was damaging the support pillars and we had to leave because they had to turn the power off to keep the water from causing the place to catch on fire.”
Katie made a face. That didn’t sound like Durgan at all. He would have kept the library open, no matter what the risk, all because he didn’t want to pay staff for not working their regular hours. And besides, she didn’t remember their being any water pipes in the cellar. They were outside the building because there had been no such plumbing when the house was built.
“Something fishy is going on here,” she told Tom as they headed back for the diner.
“I would most certainly agree,” Tom said, “but I would prefer to ponder the matter over the lunch you promised me. We can eat, then take the back way in and look around.”
Katie nodded. Men and their stomachs. She glanced towards the library, and again, those blinds shivered with motion. That was the window to Durgan’s office. Just what was he up to?
The diner had few customers. Maggie Sue was pouring a cup of coffee for a farmer who looked like he’d had a hard night as he shared his misadventures in the barn.
“...and there it was, sitting up in the loft gobbling down one of my chickens. I had my gun, but the sight of that thing just froze me right there. It looked just like a wild pig, except it had long arms and legs like a man. It took one look at me and spit the chicken’s head right in my face, then it chuckled and disappeared out the loft door with a couple of my hens.”
“What was it?” one of his audience asked.
“Danged iffen I know,” the farmer said. “At least it didn’t find my moonshine.”
“Are you sure you wasn’t in your moonshine?” a second asked.
Katie sighed, slipping into a booth.
“Coffee?” Maggie Sue called, giving Tom a puzzled look.
“Two,” Katie said. “My tab.”
Maggie Sue nodded.
“I don’t think she remembers me,” Tom said. “Then again, she’s not used to seeing me like this.”
Katie shrugged, glancing across the square towards the library. Tom entertained himself with the luncheon menu, reading off the specials as though it were fine poetry. He was half way through the list when Maggie Sue came to take their orders.
“You trade Dan for this handsome old hunk?” Maggie Sue asked.
“You mean you don’t remember Tom?” Katie said.
“Tom?” Maggie Sue gave him a hard look. “Loony as an old maid Tom the town layabout? I never saw him looking and smelling this good.”
“Why thank you, dear lady,” Tom said in his most gracious manner.
Maggie Sue frowned. “What did Dan do to get dumped for the likes of him?”
“Nothing,” Katie said. “Tom and I are just friends. I’m buying him lunch.”
“So what’ll it be?” Maggie Sue looked as though she didn’t believe a word Katie had said.
“Fried Chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and a
side of green beans,” Tom said quickly. “And a slice of that lovely apple pie for desert.”
“Make that a double,” Katie said.
Maggie Sue scribbled as she wandered away, still shaking her head in disbelief. “The things you see in this town these days,” she muttered.
Katie sipped her coffee, letting her gaze wander back out at the library. Various people were trying the door, only to find themselves locked out. Puzzled or angry, they would leave. A few threw books in the drop box, only to have them chucked back out after they walked away.
Great, she thought. There’s a bogle in the book drop. That’s all we need. She hoped none of the patrons looked in to see if their books went through the slot.
The meal eventually came, and Tom devoured his with enthusiasm. Katie found herself picking at her portion, still pondering why Durgan would have closed the library. Granted, if there was a real danger situation, then why had she seen no one in maintenance working about the place.
When they were finished, Katie paid the tab. She and Tom left the diner to fetch her shotgun and cross the square, but instead of going for the front of the library, she headed for the back, leaving her truck at the diner.
The sun was already starting to angle off to one side, so the graveyard was cool. She and Tom clambered down the stone stairs to the retaining wall. As she watched, he counted stones from the bottom step, seven in all, and then counted up seven again. With a smile, he pressed the worn surface. It sank into the retaining wall, and with a groan, the wall opened, revealing the narrow passage.
Katie got out the flashlight she’d brought with her, letting the white beam fill the narrow tunnel ahead of them. Tom drew the outer door closed, then took the flashlight and lead the way to the brick wall. There he gave a heave with his shoulder as before. The wall parted to reveal the main cellar under the library.
No water as far as Katie could see. The floor was dry as a bone. Durgan had lied. Why?
“Let’s go down and fetch my harp first,” Tom said.
“Where’s the other entrance?” Katie asked.
“Upstairs in my old study,” Tom said. “The room Durgan now calls his office. It leads straight down and comes out on the other side of the tree, the side away from the drawbridge.”
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