One Book in the Grave (19 page)

“I know I do,” Mom piped up.

Crystal grinned as she continued slicing up fruit.
“Since Solomon is such a good customer, I’ve stopped by his place a few times, too. He’s been so nice to me, I like to bring him baked goods and things. The last few times I’ve come by, he’s told me I can come anytime and I think he means it in a special way. But Angelica is so rude. She actually threatened me once. I know it’s because she’s jealous that Solomon shows an interest in me. She chased me all the way out to my car the other day and said horrible things. It made me so mad, I wanted…oh.” She dropped the knife as blood spurted from her finger.

“Oh, goodness,” Mom said, grabbing a napkin and wrapping it around Crystal’s finger.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wainwright. I’m such a klutz sometimes.”

“What are you whispering about over there?” Melody asked, staring pointedly at her sister. “Get over here. I’ve sold two more dehydrators.”

“OMG, yay,” Crystal said unsteadily, then tried to laugh, but it came out a nervous titter. “Gosh, Brooklyn, you really got me going about that woman.”

“I’m so sorry.” I touched Crystal’s arm in sympathy. “Believe me, she used to drive me crazy, too.”

“So it’s not just me?” She loosened, then pressed the napkin tighter around the cut. “That’s a relief. LOL.”

“I’m going to have to buy a new dehydrator just to assuage my guilt,” I said as I absently swirled the wine in my glass.

Mom nodded. “As long as you’re buying into the guilt, you can’t go wrong with the Monarch 5000.”

As the sun fell behind the ridge, Mom and I sat outside on the terrace, tasting the latest pinot noir Dad had brought home. He’d thought Mom would appreciate its lighter, elegant cherry and mocha tones, and he was right. I liked it, too.

Now that the sun was gone, the air cooled quickly and I wrapped my jacket a little tighter around me. I was waiting for Derek to arrive before Gabriel swung by to pick us up and drive us to Max’s for our nightly meeting.

“I really don’t need a dehydrator,” I said. “But I hated pumping her for so much information. Maybe I should buy one to pay her back.”

“It’s all for a good cause, sweetie.”

“I guess so. And she really wanted to talk. But it was awful to hear her talk about Angelica. It made me remember how nasty she was to me. I feel sorry for anyone who’s ever had to deal with that woman.”

“Yes, but you need to let it go. Crystal seemed to enjoy our visit.”

Poor Crystal. I could relate to her having to put up
with the mean and nasty Angelica, but it flipped me out that Crystal was so enamored of Solomon. Had the guy really changed that much in the years since I’d known him? I doubted it. He had always been a ladies’ man, and now it looked like he was buttering up Crystal to make his move on her. I didn’t believe for a minute that he was faithful to Angelica.

The thought of him hitting on Crystal made me cringe, but Crystal didn’t seem to mind. She was so innocent, she didn’t even seem to realize that he might be trying to lure her into his bed. She had no clue just how manipulative he could be.

I took another sip of the pinot and tasted the dark cherry tones Dad was talking about, along with a hint of raspberry. “So Solomon has only recently developed an interest in survivalist stuff. Coincidence? Just when the
Beauty and the Beast
comes onto the market? And just when we find out about Max? It’s all connected, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” Mom said. “I don’t know the man, but if he’s living in the Hollow, he’s surrounded by Ogunites. And you know how they are. Not rough, exactly.”

“No, just rugged individualists,” I said dryly, finishing her thought. “Even the sheriff used to avoid going down there.”

“Yes, but it’s been cleaned up quite a bit since then.”

“It can’t be too awful if Crystal goes there every day to sell her products.”

“She lives there, too, and she knows those people,” Mom pointed out. “And she can take care of herself.”

“I’ll say.” I chuckled. “She’s a little naive, but physically she’s tougher than most men I know.”

“Now, Brooklyn, Crystal Byers is a lovely girl,” Mom proclaimed, then added under her breath, “Big-boned, but lovely.” She tasted her wine, then smoothed a wrinkle out of the tablecloth. “You know, she and Melody come by here every few weeks to buy apples, so I keep up-to-date with them.”

“But they already grow apples out at their place,” I said, confused. “Why do they come here?”

“Their orchards only produce Gravensteins so they come here to buy my varieties.”

“Ah.” Mom liked to experiment with all sorts of apple varieties—Gala, Fuji, two different types of Delicious, Granny Smith. She didn’t sell her apples commercially or at the farmer’s market, so she wasn’t under the same constraints as the farmers whose apples were their main source of income. Apple-wise, Gravensteins were the biggest moneymakers in our area.

“Of course, I didn’t realize I was subsidizing her jewelry business when I sold her my beautiful apples,” she said, laughing.

“Maybe you can work out a deal,” I said. “Dried-fruit earrings for every occasion.”

“There are my girls,” said a cheerful male voice.

We both turned as Dad and Derek walked across the terrace. They each carried wineglasses and looked happy to see us.

Mom sighed. “Have you ever seen such a handsome sight, Brooklyn? I’ll take the cute, rangy one on the right.”

I laughed. “Fine with me. I’ve got dibs on the dark-eyed, dangerous one.”

“A fine choice.”

“I think so,” I murmured. Derek’s eyes never left me as he approached, set his glass down, then sat down next to me. I snuggled up close and was instantly warm and cozy.

Dad leaned over and kissed Mom. “What’ve you two been plotting?”

“Sit and relax, and we’ll tell you.”

“I’m more interested in what you two have been plotting,” I said. Ever since I found out that Dad had played a prominent role in Max’s disappearance, I’d been grilling him for information. He’d filled in some of the blanks on Solomon, but I hadn’t known until Crystal mentioned it that the man was a member of the Ogunite church. I had no idea what significance that held, if any. Dad didn’t know, either.

Derek said he’d make a note to look into the group’s background; then Mom gave an abbreviated rundown of our conversation with Crystal that morning. I added comments here and there.

“I don’t know those boys, Stefan and Bennie,” Dad said.

Mom reminded him that Benjamin Styles had been in London’s high school class, and Dad nodded. “Now I remember him. He’s been in some trouble before. Arrested for attempted burglary. Road racing. Idiot stuff.”

“That goes along with what Crystal said about him, although she never mentioned he’d been arrested.”

“So Solomon has Bennie teaching him to load ammunition,” Derek mused. “Interesting choice of chums.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” I said, smiling at his use of the word
chum
. What a perfectly darling word. I was going to use it from now on.

I stared at my half-full wineglass and wondered if I’d had too much to drink. I didn’t think so, but, then, I didn’t often wax lyrically over a bit of British slang.

“Becky and I are friendly with several survivalist families who have moved in together down in the Hollow,” Dad said. “But those people maintain sober, vegan homes and are relatively harmless.”

“I doubt Solomon is one of that ilk,” Derek said.

“He’s far from harmless,” Mom agreed.

“Well, I guess the term
harmless
is relative,” Dad said. “After all, even the nicest families in the Hollow have arsenals in their basements that rival Fort Ord.”

“Is that right?” Derek said, his eyes darkening. “I’ll be sure to look into that.”

Later that evening as we took a circuitous route up the mountain to Jackson’s house, Gabriel was in a somber mood, so we avoided discussing anything too heavy. I tried to lighten things up by regaling Derek and Gabriel with a description of Mom’s roundabout tour of the countryside in her attempt to avoid being followed the other day.

They were both chuckling as we walked to the door, then sobered up as I knocked twice and used my key. They both drew their weapons as I pushed open the door and walked inside. Max stood in the living room with the rifle pointed directly at me.

“All rightie, then,” I said, and held up the shopping bag I was carrying. “I’ve brought dinner.”

“Let’s talk first,” Max said.

“Let’s eat first.” I was no fool. Men were way calmer after they had some food in their stomachs. So was I.

Fifteen minutes later, we were gathered around the dining table with plates in front of us. Mom had insisted on supplying us with her famous taco casserole, thinking we’d been ordering pizza every night. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Max was a fantastic cook and we’d been eating well almost every night. I heated up her casserole and tossed the salad she’d made with the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers she’d picked from her garden that morning.

The men ate heartily but silently for a few minutes; then Max threw down his fork and glared at Gabriel. “So?”

Gabriel looked up, gave Max a long, steady stare as he slowly swallowed his last bite. “Emily wasn’t home, man. There were no signs of foul play, but it looked like she hadn’t been home in more than a week.”

“She could be on a trip,” I said lamely.

“Where could she have gone?” Max stood up and walked away from the table, then turned and muttered, “Forget it. I have no right to know.”

“Don’t make me hit you,” I said mildly. The sad tone of his voice caused me to worry, and I hated worrying. “You have every right to worry about Emily’s safety. Now finish your dinner.”

“Yes, Mother,” he said, but at least he was half smiling. I really did sound like my mother sometimes, which probably turned off most guys. I glanced at Derek to see his reaction and caught him grinning at me. Proving once again that he wasn’t like most guys.

Max sat and took a few more bites, then threw down his fork again. “Okay, just tell me. Is someone else living there with her?”

So that was the bug that had been crawling up Max’s butt. He’d been worried that Emily might have moved on and found a boyfriend—or, worse, a husband. I couldn’t blame him for being concerned.

“She lives alone,” Gabriel said.

Max’s jaw clenched and he nodded briefly. “Okay.” He took another bite, then frowned at Gabriel. “Just for my own information, tell me what you look for when you go through someone’s house.”

Gabriel shrugged, then sat back in his chair. “The first thing I want to determine is how long it’s been since someone was in the house. There are clues to look for. Dates on milk cartons. Postmarks on a stack of mail. Dishes left out or washed and put away. Emily’s place was neat and tidy. That indicates she didn’t leave suddenly. The mail was postmarked over a week ago, but there was no mail stacked up in her mailbox, which means she arranged for someone to collect it. There was no indication that she left in a hurry or was abducted. She planned to go away.”

Max looked impressed. I know I was. Gabriel was way too good at this sort of thing.

“So for all we know, she could be on a cruise ship somewhere,” I said.

“Possibly,” Gabriel said. “I looked for signs of that, too. Women packing for a vacation often leave clothes hanging out on a doorknob or thrown on the bed. They try on various outfits, then leave the rejects hanging there.”

I stared at him. “You know far too much about women.”

“That’s my job,” he said, grinning.

“What sort of job might that be, mate?” Derek muttered under his breath. Gabriel just smirked.

“So now what?” Max said.

I told them what I’d learned from Crystal about Solomon
being taught ammo loading and other survivalist skills from Bennie and Stefan in the Hollow.

Max leaned forward. “Maybe it was one of these kids, Bennie or Stefan, who took the shot at us.”

“But it couldn’t be them,” I argued, glancing from Derek to Gabriel. “How could they possibly have eluded you two?”

Gabriel shifted his shoulders philosophically. “It happens.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I said.

“Brooklyn’s right,” Derek said flatly, and looked at Gabriel. “You and I were out there together. There’s no way those two evaded us.” Then he gave Max some background on the survivalists in the Hollow and how, according to my dad, they all kept arsenals in their basements.

“All those people stocking up for World War Three?” Gabriel said. “Not sure we’ll get inside anyone’s house.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’ve all got booby traps set up,” I said. “Bennie and Stefan sound like the type who would do that. Crystal called them immature, but they’ve also got intimate knowledge of munitions.”

“Immaturity and ammunition,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “Bad combination.”

“Yes,” Derek said, nodding slowly. “Which is undoubtedly why Solomon decided to use them. For all we know, he might’ve sent them to kill Joe.”

“And flatten my tire with Max’s knife?” The memory of seeing that knife still irritated me. “I just don’t think they’re smart enough to pull that off.”

“It’s just sticking a knife in a tire,” Max said. “How smart do you have to be?”

“But their timing had to be perfect,” I explained. “They had to know I was coming. They had to know my car. They had to plan exactly when to kill Joe and escape out the back door, then vanish into thin air. I know I’m sounding paranoid and persnickety, but I just don’t believe those two could pull off that sort of precision maneuver.”

“I believe you’re right, darling,” Derek said, typing something into his smart phone. “Tomorrow I’ll contact the feds to see if they’ve any information on this local band of survivalists. I’m also interested in that church you mentioned.”

“The True Blood of Ogun?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “Seems I’ve heard of that group before.”

“You have.” I smiled. “Do you remember Mary Ellen Prescott, your new best friend at Abraham Karastovsky’s memorial service?”

He thought for a moment. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

I laughed and reminded him of how Mary Ellen had tried to convert him. It’s what happened when you let your guard down around Dharma.