Murder, She Floats

by Rachael Stapleton

  Finally, I went inside and reached for a towel. As I patted my face, I wondered whether my workout had been enough: could I sleep now? Probably not, so might as well get back to work. After a long, refreshing shower, I slapped on some lip gloss, made a frozen chocolate peanut butter protein shake, and headed to town.

  A lot of people were already streaming into the cafe when I popped in for my morning java. I counted heads and wondered how many were here because of the 1913 Liberty Head nickel coin contest. That’s when Mrs. Eve Berns walked in.

  “Good morning, Trubble.”

  Eve was either hungover or she’d turned into a classic film character. She wore a trench coat and sunglasses the size of her face, and an unlit cigarette hung from her lip.

  “Hey, Berns! You can’t smoke in here,” Pike shouted from the back.

  “Nag.”

  “What?”

  “I said I can’t wait to taste your eggs.”

  I smiled and winked at Pike who knew damn well what Eve had really said.

  “Say, you still looking for work?”

  Eve scrabbled over to me like I was the last goldfish at a toddler’s birthday party. “Why, yes I am! Do you know of something?”

  I smiled so broadly that the corners of my mouth got my eyes wet. “Sort of. You free tonight?”

  “Hmm. Let me see.” Eve pulled a calendar from her yellow plastic tote bag. “You’re in luck, because Friday nights aren’t usually so open for me. What did you have in mind?” Eve leaned forward on the counter, squishing her boobs together.

  “Ben Baboon. You remember him?”

  Eve raised an eyebrow. “You bet I do. He try to make out with you too?”

  Good god, did Ben only require a heartbeat? I mean, Eve was attractive, but she had a good forty years on him. I shook off the distraction.

  “No, well, yes actually, but it’s a little more complicated than that. Anyway, he’s staying at the manor, and I—”

  “And you want me to make his life hell tonight, huh?”

  “I thought you could maybe create a scene or fake an injury so he stays away from me, but making his life hell is fine too. He’s got a girlfriend with him, but I can handle her.”

  Eve nodded sagely, making her huge orange peace symbol earrings jingle. “Where did you say I could find him?”

  Game on. “He’s staying at Gypsy Caravan Manor, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be at the Gypsy Carnival Show tonight.”

  “He won’t know what hit him, honey.”

  “Good.” I paused, thinking over the time Eve cracked a boy across the head with her umbrella for being rude. “Maybe, just don’t hit him for real, okay? Or scratch that, feel free to hit him, just make sure he doesn’t know it’s you that did it. He’s dangerous and I wouldn’t put it past him to retaliate.”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t dare strike back against an older woman, especially one known to accidentally drop frying pans.” Her smile was wide as she said it, and it gave me chills, but it also made me want to giggle uncontrollably. Note to self: Never cross Eve.

  Chapter Thirteen

  _____________

  T he sun was setting on the west side of Bohemian Lake, and there were already fifty cars parked in the Manor’s lot when I arrived. Three colorful gypsy caravans shuttled small groups to and from the estate, but they were more about ambiance than practicality and after a while people began walking down the long and winding drive rather than waiting for the shuttle. I blended in with a crowd on foot and marveled at the light as it cut through trees, creating back-lit shadows. There was joking and laughter and I heard talk of fireworks as we marched along. We were halfway there when I heard a man’s voice. “Did you hear about the twit who found the bones?”

  My fingers clenched into a fist at my side and I looked around to find the brazen speaker. A man and his friends just ahead of me laughed.

  “Let’s hope the ditz doesn’t hunt! ‘Sorry officer, I thought ol’ Billy was a deer.’” It was the short guy in the golf shirt speaking. I could drop him without any effort at all.

  I walked closer, taking in all his major organ locations. I wondered how much of a buffer his back fat would provide if I gave him a quick left followed by a right hook to the kidneys. He was still chirping but his words stopped registering with my brain. One more minute and this guy was mine. Half a step. I leaned in, ready for action.

  S-c-r-e-e-c-h! A violin began a wicked canter, a flute joined in, and in no time I recognized the famous nineteenth century macabre tune about the skeletons that danced at midnight. The song ended just as abruptly as it began, as a loud boom echoed around the trees and fireworks lit the sky. Everyone paused around me. I dropped my hand to my side. What? I wasn’t doing anything–like planning to drop a middle-aged man. The remnants of the fireworks burned out in the sky, competing with the setting sun for attention, and sparkled down to earth like crashing fireflies. I smelled the sulfur and prepared myself for another round of fireworks in the twilight sky. The surrounding revelers oohed and aahed.

  I walked past the guy I’d been tailing. He smiled appreciatively and turned his attention back to the sky. I continued on to the mayhem of Gypsy Caravan Manor.

  Children were screaming and chasing each other as one last firework shot out and illuminated the estate. Apparently, they were just meant to announce the festivities. All around me, people were mingling and smiling, trendy mason jar drinks in their hands as they rode the excitement of outdoor entertainment on a warm summer evening. Bohemian Lake had arranged for pre-show distractions. Dani Vianu now sang softly to the tune of a fiddle, while a woman in a long peasant skirt played the tambourine and a man in a bow tie tossed candy from stilt level. The local arts and crafts committee made dream catchers with the children, and Madam (Nana) Vianu was even offering tarot readings from a tent on the sidelines.

  There was a macabre carnival theme atmosphere that blended well with the Manor. Musicians played tunes dressed in traditional costumes while gypsy dancers swayed around them. I sidled closer to the main stage and looked around for familiar faces. I thought I spotted Mallory as one of the dancers, but the dim lighting of the arabesque hanging lamps made it hard to make out details.

  I walked away from the center of activity and around to the front of the manor. Samantha Walton was sitting on the front steps smoking a cigarette.

  “Hello, Samantha.”

  When she turned to look at me, I could see her black eye, sullen and purplish under her unnaturally dark eyebrows.

  “Wow, that’s a shiner.”

  “No shit.”

  All of her chattiness from the day before was gone, and I saw no reason for small talk. “You trip over Ben’s fist?”

  She glanced up at me but stayed silent.

  “How’d the two of you meet, anyway?”

  She drew deep on her cigarette and scowled into the distance. “Through my grandma.”

  I nodded. Grandmother’s meddling was a common pastime around here.

  “What’s your grandma gonna say when she sees the way Prince Alarming’s been treating you?”

  She looked at me from the corners of her eyes and tensed up. I knew she wanted to look around for Ben, but she showed admirable restraint.

  “Not much. She’s dead now.”

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. She was old,” she snapped.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Samantha was one cold-hearted fish. I bit my lip. “Still, I’m sorry. Was she from around here?” I knew the answer but playing dumb was easier when trying to elicit information.

  “No. But she visited this place once in ‘62.”

  “Oh, so she probably heard about the lost nickel then, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah, I would think so. She’s the one who lost it.”

  I stuttered. Her openness had caught me off guard. I changed tack, determined to regain the upper hand. “Did she tell you guys where she lost it?”

  “Only abou
t a thousand times,” Samantha said with a roll of her eyes. “She became a bit obsessed after she found out about the contest. I guess the article brought up old memories, which was new for her ‘cause she’d been forgetting a lot of things the last couple years.”

  “So... has Ben made you do any diving since you got here?”

  Samantha took a final puff on her cigarette and ground it into the side of the stairs. “You think he’s using me, don’t you?”

  I gave her a sad smile but ignored the question. “Why did you think you were coming out here?”

  “I don’t know, to meet Ben’s family I guess.” She fidgeted, avoiding my eyes.

  A cold hand grabbed my wrist, and I squealed. I turned to face the creepy smile of a man dressed as a magician. “We need a lovely lady to help us get this show started.” His words were innocent enough but I didn’t like his vibe. My money was on the idea Ben had put him up to it. He was going to do something to me.

  “No!” I said, firmly.

  “Oh, come on.” He tightened his grip and at that point my instincts kicked in.

  Before I knew it I’d stepped back, relaxed my wrist and rotated it toward his thumb, pulling it free from his grasp.

  “Bitch.”

  That was all I needed to hear. I grabbed his wrist to see how he liked it and, with my free hand, I grabbed the back of his neck, firmly cupping the base of his skull. It took only a second and he was on the ground thanks to the knee I’d just sent into his chest.

  The crowd turned with a gasp and I realized how wildly inappropriate that had been: I’d just beat up the town’s magician. Thankfully the dude on the ground must have also felt embarrassed. He gave me a look and jumped to his feet.

  “All part of the show, folks!”

  One of the little girls closest to me smiled. “Wow. Mama, she’s amazing. Can I learn to do that?”

  Her mother patted her head and said, “Why don’t you ask her to teach you?”

  I winked back. “I’ll give you lessons sometime.”

  The magician headed back to the stage with Samantha in tow after first whispering in her ear. Apparently he had learned a valuable lesson–always ask a lady’s permission before kidnapping her.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the world-renowned Gypsy Carnival Show!” he boomed, his voice carrying across the estate and over the lake. The tambourine players had sprinkled throughout the crowd. “Tonight, we have a rare treat for you! In addition to the enticing entertainment provided by our musicians, you will get to witness the majestic marvels of our local magician!”

  My plan was to make sure Samantha and Ben were in the crowd, then sneak into the main manor and up to the secret passage. I estimated I could be in and out in less than fifteen minutes.

  I spotted Ben about fifty feet from me on the other side of the crowd, looking uncomfortable as a bedecked Eve leaned into him. I drew up short and stared. She was wearing an outfit straight out of the 1970s and at one time she’d probably been considered sexy in it, but today was not that day. The black cropped top, brown fringe vest, and brown leather belt weren’t all that bad, but when paired with the crushed red velvet fabric of her bell-bottom pants... well, let’s just say they did her no favors. The outfit was more suited to a teenager than a curvaceous woman of sixty.

  “What the hell is Eve wearing?” Mallory asked, coming up beside me.

  I smiled and feigned innocence. I’d told her to distract Ben, but I’d meant for her to start a conversation or fake a heart attack, not dress like a washed-up groupie. If only I still carried a stun gun, it would be so easy to use on Ben. Then again, Eve was probably just as lethal. On second thought, she was more lethal.

  She was talking animatedly now and feeding him brownies. In between bites, he was guzzling his drink like there was no tomorrow. Whatever she was doing was working, and I took advantage of the distractions to sneak into the manor. I made my way up the main stairs, fishing in my purse for the flashlight.

  I reached the second floor and hustled to the end of the hall. If I remembered correctly, there was a book here in the rotunda that acted as a lever. I started pulling on books until the fourth did the trick, and the door silently swung open.

  My flashlight filled the space, revealing a narrow but long hallway that went farther than I could see. I walked along the hall until I came to the stairway that descended into darkness. There was nothing here and why would there be? I mean, it was common knowledge that the Vianus and their servants used the hidden corridors to keep out of the way of the main guests. I kept walking and realized I’d somehow taken a wrong turn. Dani had never taken me this far. I started to get paranoid that I’d be trapped in the walls and then I laughed at myself. I was being silly–I had my cell phone on me, so if worse came to worse I had a lifeline. What was truly silly was thinking there’d be a hidden treasure in here. What was I looking for, anyway? I really had no idea.

  I was about to give up and call for help when I noticed the floor here was dusty. Obviously, the manor’s employees didn’t use this particular end of the passage, and yet there were footprints. Several pinpricks of light shone through the end of the tunnel. I ran my hands along them and the lower half of the wall moved. Upon closer inspection, I could see that the wall had a locking mechanism, but it had not been latched, so someone had used it recently and forgot to shut it. At the opening, I bent down and leaned toward the crack in the door and took stock of my surroundings.

  I inched my way through the four-foot opening, relieved to see I was alone. I could now make out the faint shapes of suitcases and empty hangers–a closet. Thankfully the door was open, allowing me to see out.

  “Hello?” I whispered. There was no answer, so I tiptoed out of the closet and into the room. I instantly recognized the smell of heavy perfume and smoke. Moonlight spilled across the crumpled sheets, illuminating a major mess, and the bed had been pushed against the side wall. Clothes were strewn about, empty liquor bottles littered the nightstand, and the contents of two full ashtrays were scattered on the floor. Not to mention the carpet was rolled up and several floorboards had been pried loose. This was Ben and Samantha’s room and they were looking for something.

  Joe had told me some of the Manor’s guests had lost their valuables in the summer of ’62, in addition to the coin scandal. What if Vera had found out about the passage and used it to steal and hide valuables? That didn’t explain why Ben and Samantha were here searching, unless they too were stealing from guests or unless Vera had hidden the stolen goods and had never gotten the chance to retrieve them.

  I knew my time was running out. Samantha and Ben could come back at any minute. I quickly went through their bags, which were already a mess. Then I got down on all fours and shone my light into the holes where the floorboards had been pried loose. I was almost ready to give up when I heard the lock of the hotel room’s door turning.

  I switched off my flashlight and dove under the bed, hoping its illumination hadn’t been seen from under the door.

  Whoever it was ran straight for the bathroom. The light flicked on, and it was only a matter of seconds before I heard the unpleasant sounds of Eve’s handiwork: she must have slipped a laxative into Ben’s drink. I crawled out from under the bed. The bed was to the right of the bathroom’s door and on the opposite side of the room from the closet door, so I was out of sight, but in order to get to the closet I would need to cross the open space. I grimaced when the rumblings of his intestines became rhythmic. Boy, Eve sure did know how to show a fella a good time.

  I fought the urge to stand up and run. If Ben saw me leave, he’d hunt me down to the ends of the earth–once he got his pants pulled up, anyway. I held my breath and forced myself out from under the bed. I snagged something while attempting to skootch out and whatever it was hit the floor with a thud. I froze and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ben’s hairy legs, pants draped around his ankles.

  “Samantha, that you?” The bathroom door swung shut with a bang. Thank the
heavens.

  The room was submerged in shadow now, but I found the culprit of the thud—a book that must have been tucked into the frame beneath the bed. I picked it up just as I heard footsteps approaching and the door handle jiggle. Holy crap! Now Samantha was here–right outside the door.

  I panicked, ran for the closet clutching the small book tight, and slipped through the hidden door, unfortunately banging my head as I did. I heard Samantha enter the room and call to Ben, but I had no idea whether she’d heard me leave or not. I just kept running but I couldn’t find my way back to the rotunda. Instead, I found a set of stairs which led me down and out of a broom closet on the first floor.

  The anticipation was killing me, but I wanted to get far away from Ben and Gypsy Caravan Carnival before I examined the small leather book. There was still a crowd outside, but it looked like the show was winding down. I got about ten feet when a firecracker popped off, and a fiery display lit the sky.

  Someone yelled my name but there was no way I was stopping to find out who it was. I skirted into the trees and shadows that lined the drive and left the way I had come. I would sleep at Rebel’s tonight, right after I reached a lighted area where I could look inside the book.

  I jogged to my car, locked all the doors, and drove to Rebel’s. There, under the flickering glow of the streetlight, I opened the book and began to read. The first page was dated January 1, 1962. Despite it being more than fifty years old, the paper was thick and the black ink inside was still clear. My stomach dropped. I had been hoping to find a map. This was a diary–mundane and dreary if the first two pages were any indication. I slapped my steering wheel in frustration. There was nothing more I could do with this tonight. Tomorrow, I would read through it carefully.

  Chapter Fourteen

  _____________

  I woke up at sunrise on Rebel’s couch with a kink in my neck and a headache of bachelorette sized proportions. Leif was standing across the living room looking at me funny.