House at Road's End Page 17

  “I don’t have time to play games.” I was just this side of walking over and punching him in his lying mouth.

  “Irwin.” Jack’s voice was calm, but his face held that same hardness it had the night he’d called Irwin when Uncle Bill was here. “What was in the letter?”

  Irwin took a step back and banged into a table, then the wall by the door. “I took it over. I swear.”

  “You were going to give me your copy, remember?” the Sheriff said.

  If he didn’t give us what we wanted I was going to strangle him right here in front of the Sheriff.

  “I don’t have it. Ask anyone. I’m an honest lawyer.”

  “Are we going to have a problem here?” Jack’s voice slipped down an octave to dangerous.

  “No. No. I—”

  “If you have any humanity you’ll tell us what was in that letter. Or are you in on the murder?” If being strong and intimidating didn’t work maybe this would.

  “Ensley, you don’t mean that.” Irwin had slipped smoothly into shyster mode. “If you’ll give me a chance, we can straighten this whole thing out.”

  I didn’t buy it. He was going to cover his backside and the rest of it be damned. On the TV, someone was shouting, “You’ll pay for this one way or another.” That sounded like a decent proposal.

  “Okay, we’ll go over it one more time real slow,” Jack said. His voice still calm. “What was the information Ralph wanted you to give me?”

  “If everyone will settle down.” Irwin tried to smile, but his dry lips got caught on his teeth. He made a feeble effort to moisten them.

  There are few things that will flip my irrational switch faster than telling me ‘to settle down.’ I’m a perfectly rational and logical person. I don’t lose control unless it’s called for and right now it was called for.

  Irwin concentrated on Jack. “Honest, Jack, I took it to your office. Now if Phyllis can’t find it—”

  “Nice try. Phyllis isn’t the person who’s in trouble right now. So, let’s start again, and this time, I want the truth.” I had to admire Jack’s composure.

  My self-control was in pieces laying on the floor of my brain. I took a menacing step toward my ultimate target. Jack took my arm.

  “Okay.” Irwin’s shoulders slumped in submission. “He gave me a manila envelope to give you. After Ralph went missing, I opened it. The only thing in it was a picture of an old suitcase and some cut up newspapers. It was like something a crazy person would put together, so I threw it all out. After all, he was missing and probably dead and I didn’t want people to remember him as a crazy old man.”

  “You idiot.” This time, I broke Jack’s grip. He reached out and grabbed me back.

  “I should arrest you for interfering with a police investigation and destroying evidence. Or let the Doc here take a large chunk out of you.” He paused long enough for the gravity of the situation to sink in to Lansky’s thick head. “Now. Let’s start from the top one last time. What was in the envelope? Exactly.”

  “Like I said, a picture of an old suitcase, some newspaper clippings about the resort, and a letter.”

  Jack pulled me back towards him. “What about the resort?” There was a quiet determination in his voice. A sort of answer-or-die quality.

  “It was articles from when they first announced they were going to come to town. Then, there were some from other newspapers all over the country. I decided it was all crazy. They didn’t have anything to do with each other.”

  “And the letter?” the Sheriff asked.

  “All it said was that the answer was in the B&B. That’s it. It was all crazy.”

  “That determination was mine. Not yours.”

  I stood there, wishing I could get to Jack’s gun and shoot this dumb son-of-a-bitch.

  “Irwin.” Jack reached for the front door knob. “If I find out you’ve withheld any information. Any at all. I will be back.”

  Jack’s last words hit Lansky like a blow to the stomach.

  »§«

  In the truck I said, “He was lying.”

  “I know.” Jack didn’t take his eyes off the house.

  “So, why didn’t you make him tell you the truth?”

  “In every lie, there is an element of truth. I believed the part about the picture. It made sense.” He settled back. “Now, we wait.”

  “For what?” This whole crime solving thing wasn’t logical. “Where are the rules here? We need rules.”

  “Solving a murder is part formula and part instinct. Sometimes you’ve got to let people come to the realization that the truth is their only option.”

  “You don’t understand. My method is time tested. But nothing fits.” I felt useless. The clues should mesh together showing me who was guilty. It wasn’t working out that way.

  He radioed the station. “Phyllis, get Lyle out to Irwin Lansky’s. I want him planted in front of his house.” With that, he put the truck in gear and pulled down the street, made a U-turn, stopped at the curb, and shut off the lights and engine. He slouched down in the seat and crossed his arms.

  Fifteen minutes, later an SUV pulled up behind the truck. Jack got out, talked to Lyle, and returned. “Hungry?”

  “No.” My stomach was still churning from all the anger and disappointment and...the other thing.

  “We should eat.”

  Everything was on my last nerve, so Lacey better watch out.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The Hot Springs Bar and Grill parking lot was nearly full.

  “Nothing makes sense,” I said as he pulled into a parking spot at the far end of the lot.

  “It’s the newspaper clippings.” He shut off the engine and leaned back. “Why destroy them?” He drummed his thumb against the steering wheel. “If they were useless, why not give them to me? I don’t buy the crazy part.”

  With time to cool down—a lot—I said, “Because he knew it wasn’t crazy ramblings. Why didn’t he tell us he’d opened the letter in the beginning?”

  “That was stupid on his part.” He opened his door. “Maybe the answer will come to us after dinner.”

  “That maybe a little optimistic.” I slid from the seat to the ground.

  My heel caught on a stone and I tipped to one side. He caught me. “Thank you.”

  “I see your travels didn’t take you to a shoe store.”

  “Hey.” I pulled up the cuff of my pants. “These are Manolo Blahnik’s.”

  “Very, uh, nice?”

  “They’re boots.”

  “They’re suede.”

  “Yes.”

  “They’ll be fine until it gets wet or you find another obstacle.”

  True. “This is the desert.”

  “It still rains here and then there’s the snow.”

  “I have winter boots.”

  “Do they all have heels like that?” He held the restaurant door open for me.

  “Maybe.”

  “Amazing.” He shook his head.

  Inside mirrored the parking lot. We found the booth where we’d eaten the first night empty. Lacey came right over. “Jack, how are you?” she said in a coffee, tea, or me voice.

  “Fine.” He turned to me. “What would you like to drink?”

  I needed some liquid courage. “Chardonnay, please.”

  She didn’t take her eyes off Jack.

  “Bud Lite, please.”

  She leaned a hip against the table. “I have Friday night off.” She traced an imaginary line on the table with her long red nail. This woman and her fingernails. Where did she get them done? Talons-R-Us?

  “That’s nice,” he said.

  I could see the disappointment on her face. She’d wanted him to ask her out. I actually felt sorry for her.

  I watched her walk away, all the time hoping my wine would be only wine.

  “Lacey,” the Sheriff called.

  She whirled around. Her face lit with a smile.

  “Cancel my beer and bring us a bottle of Chardo
nnay.”

  Without a word, she turned and went to the bar, her exaggerated sway gone.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Lacey’s a decent person. Just a...”

  “She doesn’t like me at all.”

  “Give her time.” He changed the subject. “I’m betting old Irwin didn’t throw anything away. He burned it.”

  “Why do that?”

  “I don’t like this,” he said. “There’s an element that’s bigger than a small town crime.”

  Barbara come over. “Jody made prime rib. That’s why the crowd.” She took our order.

  When she left, I said, “I get everything in the envelope—he told us about—except the picture. Why a picture of an old suitcase?”

  “Good question. Maybe—” His brow furrowed. “Maybe—”

  “Exactly. No logic.”

  “No,” he said. “There’s a cryptic logic to it. Your dad was a very smart man. If he put a picture in the envelope it meant something. What I don’t understand is, why he gave all that information to Lansky?”

  “Without dates or towns.” I shook my head. “We can’t track the articles.”

  “Here you go.” Lacey plopped a wine glass in front of me, and set Jack’s in front of him. She opened the bottle, poured each of us a glass, turned and left.

  Jack took a drink of his wine. “It comes down to the letter. What happened to it in my office? Phyllis wouldn’t let anyone in my office who wasn’t part of the force?”

  I decided to ask about Kenny. “Do you trust Kenny?”

  “What? Where did that come from?”

  “I have a feeling.”

  “I—” He paused. “No. What’s your feeling?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe, he was trying to be conscientious.”

  “You thought it was important; let’s hear it.”

  “Did you send him back to the B&B the night of the second break-in to check on me?”

  “No. Did he say I did?”

  I sipped my wine as I recalled the interaction. Had he? Or did I assume it? “He didn’t come out and say you sent him, but when I asked he nodded.” Another sip. “You didn’t send him, did you?”

  “Was he in a Sheriff’s vehicle?”

  “I was in the house out back, so I couldn’t see one, but, he was in uniform.”

  He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “He took a few days off because he was at the B&B all night and most of the next day.”

  I didn’t like that. At all. “When did he come back to work?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “He’s been coming by nearly every day. Maybe he’s looking out for Jane.”

  “I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I can’t figure it out. What am I doing wrong?”

  “It isn’t like TV. Things don’t fall into place that easy. The hard part is getting people to tell you the truth. You’re doing fine. Besides, I think there’s more going on here. I just need some time and information to figure it out.” He shook his head. “My sources are working on it.”

  “You’re just being nice.”

  “Ha. Ask anyone and the word nice won’t come up.”

  “Jane likes you.”

  “Aunt Jane likes everybody.”

  “She doesn’t think much of Kenny and he’s her nephew.”

  “There’s a reason why he’s still a patrol officer.”

  “You brought him to the murder scene.”

  “There wasn’t anyone else. I’ve hired Lyle since then.”

  Our food arrived and I found I was hungry.

  “This is like a treasure hunt,” I said as I pushed my plate away. “Dad’s last words, the envelope.”

  “His last words.” His jaw tightened. “I’ve been thinking about them too. The too big part is troubling.”

  “I don’t understand. This is a small town what could be too big. I get it that the resort leaving was big to the town, but I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “So much has happened.” I took a deep breath that came out in a shudder. I picked up my glass. “Last words.” I met his eyes as I took a gulp of wine. “This is so much harder than anything I’ve ever faced.” Another gulp. “I don’t know which way to turn, what to believe. I...” I raised my glass.

  He put out his hand and stopped me. “Slow down, we don’t...” He let go of my hand. “I understand. We’ll get this figured out.”

  I hoped so.

  Jack went on, “Everyone keeps looking in the B&B. Misdirection. It’s so simple that has to be it. If Ralph left that information with Irwin he knew he’d look at it. When Irwin did he’d tell the next person up the line that it, whatever it is, was the B&B. I’d like to try the attic in the house out back.”

  “My dad used to live back there.”

  “He did until all this started.” He stopped. A little line formed between his eyes as his lips scrunched together.

  “Jane and I tapped on every wall in the house out back when I moved in.”

  “You moved out there? When?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “I’d like to check for the attic if you don’t mind.”

  “Jane calls it Glenn House.”

  “Glenn House it is, as long as you’re here.”

  As long as I was here. I pushed away the sigh that threatened with the memory of my earlier rant. Funny. I’d always managed to be judicious in what I said, until now. Stress. It had to be stress. And grief. “Jane and I couldn’t find it. With no one living out there, they’ve had plenty of time to search the place.” I paused. “When we were cleaning it didn’t look like anyone had been in there.”

  “We need to find the attic access.” He put money on the receipt tray and we left.

  At the bar, Lacey stopped and watched us.

  »§«

  Jack pulled down the driveway to Glenn House and up to the front door.

  “What if we don’t find one?”

  “We’ll find it.”

  “What if there’s no suitcase?” Where was my glass half full when I needed it?

  “We’ll worry about it if it happens.”

  “We haven’t had any luck, so far.”

  His now familiar grin lit his face. “We don’t have to go at it in a heated rush. You.” He pointed to me. “Own the place. And I.” He shot his thumb in his direction. “Am the police. We can take our time. Who’s going to bother us?”

  “Who indeed.” He shut off the truck.

  Jane left a note on the front door explaining she’d fed the cats and the little one was up in my room.

  The big cat sized us up as he came down the stairs. He walked over and rubbed against Jack’s leg. “Lois is going to be upset when I go home smelling like a cat.” He reached down and gave him a pet.

  I began turning on lights. There are two things I require in a residence. Lots of windows, and lots of lights. Okay, three things, a big closet. This house had all that, and great finishes.

  “I know what kept you busy today. The place looks like—” He stopped. “You and Jane covered the upstairs. Right?”

  “We did. It won’t hurt to make sure.” I stopped. “Jane said this house is out of time for the age of the place.” I glanced upstairs. “The closet is huge.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “No, you don’t understand. This house has to be over a hundred years old. They were only starting to make closets part of the bedrooms. And out here, I’d think it was a real anomaly.”

  “Interesting.” He climbed the curved staircase.

  Upstairs, we found the basket complete with cat beside my bed.

  “This is nice.”

  “Look at the closet.”

  He peeked inside and gave a low whistle. “Do we have a shopping problem?”

  I straightened. “It’s no problem at all.”

  “I bet.” He turned slowly. “I wonder if this was the master bedroo
m.”

  “I don’t think so. This is the first room I came to. I liked it, so I moved in.” Hold on here. “I thought you and my dad were friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why wouldn’t you know where the master bedroom was?”

  He gave a little snort of a laugh. “Under what circumstances would I visit Ralph’s bedroom?”

  “I’ve been in Sophie’s bedroom.”

  “Sophie?”

  “Never mind. There’s a larger room on the other side of the hall.”

  That one was a large mirror image of mine. I flipped on the light as we entered. Jack checked the closet, then he went to the hall. “Let’s start in here.”

  “We tapped on all these walls. Twice.”

  “I don’t think we’re looking for a panel.”

  “There aren’t any scratch marks on the floor.”

  “Smart girl. Maybe it’s up off the floor.” He pointed to a set of shelves. “I have to wonder why those shelves are so much deeper than the one’s next to it. And why the odd angle?”

  “Great, we spent hours in here tapping and searching and you walk in and find it in one minute.”

  “Let’s make sure.”

  He pushed the shelves one at a time. “Ouch.” He pulled his hand back. A drop of blood was forming on the end of one finger.

  I checked it. “You’re fine.”

  “Great bedside manner.” He pushed on the shelf again. It clicked and the section of shelves popped out an inch. “And we have a hidden something.” He swung it open. Behind the panel was a set of stairs leading up.

  “Special, another set of stairs stretching into blackness. Is there a light switch?”

  He felt around. “No. People don’t frequent attics at night.”

  “Good point. Do you have a flashlight?”

  “In the truck.”

  The big cat chose that moment to saunter in and scramble up the steps.

  “No, no,” I called after him. In true cat fashion, he completely ignored me.

  “I’ll get my flashlight.”

  As I stood there waiting, I took in the area. This had been Dad’s room. The only thing hanging on the rod was his uniform. The bright general’s stars sparkled in the light. I walked over and ran my hand across them. He’d been so proud the day he’d pinned them on. I missed his smile. I brushed my fingers over the rows of medals.