RAVEN'S HOLLOW (16 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Eli had a list of cross-checks in his head and five files open on his cousin’s computer when Ty strode into the cramped rear office of the Raven’s Hollow Police Station.

“Make yourself at home, Lieutenant.”

Absorbed, he switched files. “You okayed this last night, remember?”

“Yes, but I thought you’d at least wait until I came on duty to invade my workspace.”

“You were busy with a thing on the other side of...” Eli indicated the monitor. “How secure are the safe-deposit boxes at the bank?”

“Not as secure as they should be if we’re talking about Nola Bellam’s locket. Molly has the only key. Yes, I asked her where it was, and big surprise, she can’t find it.”

More comfortable standing than sitting in Ty’s office chair, Eli bent over the back of it to open a new folder. “There’s a prescription waiting for Cal’s uncle at the Raven’s Hollow Pharmacy. Order was phoned in yesterday morning.”

“Giving him a handy excuse to show up in town yesterday afternoon.”

“Handy excuse or legitimate reason.”

Ty shrugged out of his rain gear. “My money’s on the first thing.”

“Why?” Changing folders, Eli looked up. “Come on, Ty, why would Kilgore be stalking Sadie?”

“He forges metal products. Spike strips are metal products.”

“He’s never sold one to any of the outlets he deals with in Bangor.”

“So naturally, never having sold one means he’s never made one.”

“What it means, if you’d bother to look through his outbuildings, is that Cal makes far more money making moonshine than he does forging metal.”

“Which translates to the guy’s not a stalker? Sorry, I’m missing the connection.”

So was he, Eli reflected and that, together with his cousin’s attitude, was starting to piss him off. “One of us should go out to his place.”

Ty regarded his cell. “Not sorry to say, Lieutenant, it’ll have to be you. Looks like there’s some dumb-ass jerk playing chicken with drivers out on the Post Road.” For a moment, his scowl appeared to be directed elsewhere. “We all know Kilgore did it. Chief at the time said he’d bet his badge on it. The guy had motive, opportunity and complete crap for an alibi.”

“Yeah, I read the report. Mother and grandmother—marginally different stories. The discrepancy wasn’t enough to get him arrested.”

Pausing in the doorway Ty allowed himself a sneer. “You want the complicated answer, don’t you? The one that shows just how good a cop you are.”

Eli met his glare. “What I want is the right answer. The one that means Sadie’s stalker has been apprehended.”

Ty wiggled the fingers of his left hand. “So, no heroics.”

Irritation tiptoed through anticipation as Eli pushed off from the desk. “This isn’t about me, Ty, not the way you’re thinking.”

The fingers of Ty’s other hand tightened on the doorframe, but he kept his response level. “If you believe that load of bull, it’s more than probable we’ll be celebrating two happy events next week. Old Rooney’s birthday.” He showed his teeth. “And your death.”

* * *

S
ADIE
’
S
BRAIN
BUZZED
for a full hour after she reached the
Chronicle
. In forty-five short minutes, Molly had filled it with more hearsay than she’d have found in a year’s worth of newspapers. Most of it had no bearing on her stalker-monster, but the information about Laura could prove useful. All she had to do was separate the things that might connect them in the killer’s eyes from those that were merely family ties.

Ty was an obvious connection. However, at different times in their lives, she and Laura had both worked with Brady, organizing large events. In Laura’s case, a pair of Cove-Hollow Halloween high school parties. In hers, two charity costume balls.

According to Molly, Laura had also two-timed—or was it three-timed?—Cal with one of the Majerki brothers. Her cousin hadn’t been clear as to which brother it was, and possibly it made no difference since Sadie had weekly contact with both men.

Okay, so—candidates for suspicion in place. What next?

After five hair-pulling hours behind her desk, she opted to leave any further business decisions to her PA and headed down to the basement. The ancient presses whirred and clanked and gave new meaning to the term
unholy racket
.

“I could work on these relics for the better part of a year, and they’d still, jam, spit and rattle every time you started them up.” Jerk gave the oldest machine a clunk with his oversized wrench. “You should upgrade to newer models.”

She patted the press he’d struck. “If I did that, you and Brick would lose your lucrative second income.”

“Good point. Are we square about the me-keeping-an-eye-on-you thing?”

“Square enough.” She moved toward the archive room. “I’ll be breathing in dust until break time, Jerk. Do your best to keep my uncle’s babies up and running.”

He adjusted his sweat-stained headband. “Your uncle’s ancestors, more like. No sneaking out, right, or I could find myself on the wrong end of a witch-hunt.”

“A Bellam never sneaks.” She grinned. “But you should worry if a raven with red hair flies past you.”

The door to the archive room gave an ominous creak as she entered. With its lack of windows, stacks of boxes and general airless atmosphere, it wasn’t her favorite place. But this was where the old files and newspapers were stored, and she’d promised Eli to try and dig up a map of the manor grounds.

She started with the back issues that predated Laura’s murder by six months. Because the newspapers had been thinner in those days, she was able to go through them, front to back, in a matter of minutes.

Not surprisingly, there was nothing of import prior to her cousin’s death. Afterward was another matter—and a more difficult task than she’d anticipated.

Laura had been pretty and smart and fun, and Sadie had loved her. If Molly was to be believed, however, she’d also been busier than most people realized in the dating department. Assuming you could call making out with Ty in the backseat of her mother’s car dating.

But so what? So Laura had liked guys. They’d all been hormonal teenagers once, even Molly.

She read the write-ups on the actual murder two times apiece. Nothing unusual jumped out at her. Cal Kilgore remained the number-one suspect in the eyes of most Cove and Hollow dwellers, but the people in charge of the investigation had apparently disagreed. Although he’d been questioned, in the end he’d walked. Out of the spotlight and into the haunted north woods.

While she mulled that over, she unearthed three maps, and one in particular riddled with hidden caves and tunnels that might work for Eli. Speaking of, and given that she’d only caught herself thinking about him twenty or thirty times since entering the room, Sadie felt she was holding her own very well in terms of concentration.

Four months after the fact, the stories surrounding Laura’s death began to wane. Other local occurrences took precedence. Some were important and relevant. Many were merely fill.

For instance, in her senior year, Molly had been written up as the girl most likely to become a psychic and open a tearoom in the Hollow. Instead, she’d set her sights on medicine and returned to the Hollow immediately after receiving her degree.

Not to be outdone, Orley had been slated to move to Africa and become the next Jane Goodall. She’d been offered a scholarship to the University of New England, but in the end had chosen to work at the Hollow Veterinary Clinic for three years before heading off to Michigan State.

According to the Blume news feed—that being her uncle’s assistant at the time—neither Ty nor Brady had earned anything approaching a scholarship. Brady had fought his way to and eventually through veterinary college, while Ty had hitched a ride to Portland. After eighteen months of bouncing from job to job, he’d finally decided to enlist in the army.

Brick and Jerk had never set foot outside the sister towns—nor been tempted to as far as Sadie could tell.

In Eli’s case, the future had been a toss-up. He’d become either a New York state senator or the ultimate pinball wizard. Only Rooney and her uncle’s assistant had seen him as a cop, and they’d thought Los Angeles would be his destination of choice.

With her eyes starting to blur, Sadie reboxed the old editions. She hesitated briefly when she spied a headline about a young girl named Lisa Johnson who’d driven her daddy’s 1942 pickup through the barrier on Ridge Road in Raven’s Cove and been killed on the rocks below. Evidently Laura wasn’t the only person in these parts who’d died far too young.

She was hefting the last box onto a high shelf when her cell phone rang. The lack of a name on the screen had her running a palm along the leg of her pants. It took three yoga breaths before she could muster up sufficient courage to answer, “Sadie Bellam.”

“Hello, Sadie.” The computer-altered voice set her teeth on edge. “You’re a very brave woman to go to work under threat of death. Do you have a gun nearby?”

Sidestepping to the door, she looked out. All she could see was the top of Jerk’s head, but the sight of him reassured her.

“If you’re calling to tell me I’m a dead woman, your threats are getting a little old.”

“Don’t push me, witch!”

Anger punched through icy fear. “Why? You’re pushing me.”

“I’ve also shot at you, with bullets and arrows. It’s only Bellam luck that’s keeping you alive, and it won’t last forever.” The rasp dropped to a creepy caress. “I’m an excellent shot.”

Sadie scrambled through her memories. Who did she know that was an excellent shot? With guns? Far too many people. With arrows? Eli, Brady, possibly Ty—and every hunter in the area, including, she strongly suspected, Cal Kilgore.

Slipping into the main area, she said, “You made a mistake coming to the séance last night. You’ve narrowed the field of suspects considerably.”

“Only if I let myself be seen. Do you think I did, Sadie? Or is it possible I’m more clever than that?”

When Jerk’s head dropped out of sight, Sadie’s heart plummeted. But she kept her voice steady and made her way carefully through the presses. “I’ll give you clever,” she agreed. “But I’m still alive, and that’s what counts in the end.”

She heard a sudden loud bang above the din, and ducking, raised her eyes to the shadowed rafters.

A low chuckle reached her. “My, you live in a noisy world, Sadie Bellam. But only for a short while longer. Only until you and your cop lover are dead. Then, finally, I’ll have what should have been mine from the start.”

Still in her crouch, Sadie frowned. “What should have been yours—?”

She had no chance to finish as a deafening explosion rocked the presses and made the floor beneath her tremble.

A second later, the basement went dark.

* * *

O
UT
ON
R
IDGE
Road, Eli finished clamping Rooney’s bicycle to the Land Rover’s rear rack.

“You know it’s five miles to Two Toes Joe’s, right? With off-and-on rain and the probability of more thunder and lightning.”

The old man made a dismissing motion. “Off-and-on rain’s fine, and the
Chronicle
said fog, not another thunderstorm. Weather Channel’s only right half the time, grandson. Sadie’s closer to ninety percent.”

Eli climbed back into the driver’s seat. “Still five miles to the Cove,” he reminded him. When his phone rang, he read the name and immediately picked up. “Tell me this is a let’s-do-coffee call, Sadie.”

“If coffee’s all you want from me, you must be on speaker with company.”

His great-grandfather cackled. “The girl’s a regular Miss Marple.”

“You think I’m a nosy old woman? That’s some compliment, Rooney. In terms of the call, Lieutenant, sharpen your mental pencil. I had another chat with my stalker’s nasty side.”

Swearing inwardly, Eli looked toward the Hollow. “More of the same, or something new?”

“A little of both, actually.” She related the conversation and ended with a sound of frustration. “I’m sure he was going to say more, but one of the presses surged. The motor blew, the electrical panel overloaded and Jerk’s eyebrows got singed.”

He swore again. “Are you all right? Is he?”

“I’m fine, and you know Jerk. He’s already torn the bottom half of the press apart. He says no frigging fossil of a machine’s going to get the better of him. Now, before you to do a major burnout in my not-paid-for vehicle, let me add that Brick’s already here helping his brother, and I promised Ben Leamer I’d cover a grade-school tour of his corn maze. Personal favor,” she added before he could object. “Otherwise, I’d get one of my reporters to do it.”

An eager Rooney leaned forward. “Tell Ben I need...” Then he clamped his mouth shut and let a smile lift the corners. “Never mind. Stay safe, young Sadie.”

“That shouldn’t be difficult in a crowd of more than sixty.” Amusement marked her tone. “Kids love cops, Eli—if you find yourself getting bored in, oh, say, fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“I can think of better ways to deflect boredom than by herding a bunch of kids through a maze.”

“You were a child once yourself, Lieutenant Blume. That being said, I need to prep for a major headache.”

“So basically, you just called to scare the crap out of me.”

She laughed. “You said to let you know if anything unusual happened. I think my afternoon qualifies. Oh, and, Rooney? It’s as dangerous to ride a bike in the fog as it is during a thunderstorm.”

“How can you possibly—?” A sharp burst of static stopped Eli midquestion.

“Hollow Road’s not the only place phones tend to pack it in.” Rooney shrugged. “She’s right, of course, but I like my bike, it’s mostly downhill and someone or other’s usually driving by if I find myself getting winded.” He pointed east. “You heard the lady. Cove’s that way, and as you can clearly see, fog’s rolling in.”

Fine. Great. Sadie had a knack for weather forecasts and a soft spot for Ben Leamer. Eli knew he could live with that. But how much longer would Sadie live if he didn’t identify the monster who wanted her dead and bring the bastard down?