A Barlow Lens (5 page)

Almost before Wyatt pressed the doorbell, the door opened. He guessed Lily was watching for them.

“Wyatt!” Lily opened the door wide, came out, and had him in a hug before he could say a word. “It's been too long, much too long. I've been following the Triple Crown, how exciting. You must be so thrilled.”

Wyatt smiled. “I am. And very proud of her. Thank you.”

Lily was what some people would consider a handsome woman. She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous by any stretch of the imagination, but her face was open and friendly. Lily was the type of person who put people at ease simply by being near them. Tall and on the thinner side, “willowy” is what came to Wyatt's mind. Her clothes were always stylish in a timeless way.

She stepped back from him, raised her eyebrows, and looked Val up and down. He immediately grinned and said, “Hi.”

Wyatt laid his hand on Val's back between his shoulder blades. “Lily, this is Val Mihalic. We're getting married in a few weeks.”

Lily's face lit up, and in the next second, Val became her second hugging victim. “Double congratulations are in order, then.” She stepped to the side and waved them through the door. “Come in.”

They stepped into a large, open entranceway with a vaulted ceiling and view through the house to the backyard. Lily led the way through to a comfortable room. The entire far end was a brick, stone, and tile fireplace with glass doors. Along the adjoining wall, which was dominated by floor to ceiling windows and a spectacular view of Lake Erie, was a small collection of telescopes. Two long couches faced each other and behind one was a metal and glass table with lines of drinkware. Beside that was an open globe that housed various bottles of whiskey, scotch, and gin.

“Wyatt, I can't thank you enough for doing this. I know coming here must have been difficult.” Lily sat on one of the couches. “Please, sit and be comfortable.”

Wyatt and Val settled on the opposite couch. “Tell me what you know,” Wyatt said.

Lily reached behind the couch and pulled a key attached to a small piece of plastic with a number on it. “This is to a storage locker.” She held out the key and a business card. Wyatt leaned forward and took them. “I gave some records I had here to the US Marshal who contacted you.”

Val nodded. “We have all of that now.”

“What's in storage?” Wyatt asked.

“Tom Manning was my uncle. My mother was quite a bit younger. You probably know already he was a school teacher. There was a fire at the school, and for years it was speculated he had something to do with starting it. He didn't, my mother was very sure. Tom loved kids, and especially
his
kids, the students. She said he would never hurt anyone.”

“People can be pushed into things they wouldn't normally do,” Wyatt said softly.

“Yes, they can. But I believed her when she said he wasn't capable of that. However, either way, I need the truth. He deserves to have the truth told, if you think you can do that.”

“I can certainly try.” Wyatt held up the key. “What is in here?”

“Some of it was Tom's things—my mother kept all his belongings. There was a building not far from here that was a speakeasy in the twenties. The building was torn down years ago, but before that happened they auctioned off items from it. I went to the auction, more out of curiosity, and saw pictures taken there, and Tom was in many of them with another young man.”

“Philip Hall,” Wyatt said.

Lily smiled. “You started sifting through what you already have. Anyway, I bought the whole lot from the auction.”

“Oh yeah, more boxes,” Val said.

Lily laughed. “A lot more. Some of the furniture I have in this house, it's quite unique.” She turned and pointed to the large window and telescopes. “That scope there was Tom's. He taught science. I guess he spent a lot of time at that speakeasy—they were called juice joints. It probably had a better view of the sky. Even back then city lights were starting to pollute the night skies.” Lily sighed and seemed to deflate. “I couldn't ask Kevin to help me sort things out, for more reasons than his job.”

“I know, Lily,” Wyatt said.

“You were the best person for this, in more ways than one.” Lily looked from Wyatt to Val. “The best pair of people.”

“Lily, you do realize what I find out might be information you don't like,” Wyatt said.

Lily nodded. “I know that. Really, I only want to know the truth.”

“Go ahead and let the insurance close the claim on the building. We went and took a look. There isn't anything there that will help me. The skeletons are gone, and I have photos of the site.” Wyatt stood up. “We should be going.”

“Everything that was with them, other than the axe, is also in that storage unit,” Lily said.

Val had stood and wandered over to the telescopes. “These are pretty cool.” He was close enough for a good look, but had put both hands behind his back, obviously being careful not to unbalance one.

“That is just a small sample of what I have,” Lily said. She moved closer to Val. “These are the ones I actually use; I have others that are collector's items. If you're interested, come back some night and I'll give you the grand tour.” She waved one hand at the sky. “Or better yet, come to the museum where I work. We set up big scopes every Wednesday night when it's clear and give a presentation.”

“Lily is an astronomer,” Wyatt explained.

“Nice,” Val said. “I'd love to go to your museum.”

Lily laughed. “It's not
mine
. I just work there.” She picked a cylinder from a tray on a telescope and held it up. “Did you know that when you look at the stars you're looking back in time? This is called a Barlow Lens. It basically boosts a telescope's capacity. I have some brochures in the other room, let me get you some.”

“That sounds fun, and she's nice,” Val said after Lily left the room.

“I think you just made a friend for life.”

Wyatt turned when he heard movement behind him, expecting to see Lily had returned. It wasn't Lily, and the person who now confronted him caused him to square his shoulders, straighten his spine, and sidestep so he was between the newcomer and Val. “Kevin,” Wyatt said. It was an effort to keep his tone cordial.

“Wyatt,” Kevin replied, voice tight. His gaze slid almost at once to Val, who'd turned away from the telescopes, taken a few steps toward them, and froze.

“This is Kevin Fells,” Wyatt said, turning far enough to look at Val. “Vladimir Mihalic, my fiancé.”

Val stepped forward, held out his hand, and shot Wyatt a curious look. Clearly he caught the fact Wyatt introduced him as Vladimir not Val. He smiled at Kevin.

Kevin looked Val up and down, shrugged, and walked to the bar. He snatched a glass from the table and a bottle of whiskey from the bar. He poured more than a shot's worth into the glass and downed it, then poured another one. Wyatt resisted the urge to shake his head. Kevin had already smelled of booze when he came in, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“So, my brother is barely cold in his grave and you get yourself a brand new boy toy.” Kevin's voice was so cold Wyatt had to make a conscious effort not to shudder.

The smile slid off Val's face. His arm dropped to his side. It took Wyatt a few seconds to recover and react. Closing the distance between them fast enough that Kevin wouldn't have time to back away, Wyatt grabbed Kevin by one arm and pulled them together. He used a hard enough grip and jerked down with enough pressure Kevin gasped.

“You never even came to Jack's funeral, and I'll wager you don't even know where his grave is,” Wyatt said in a low voice. “Don't talk to me like
I'm
the one who did anything wrong.
I'm
the person who took care of him right to the end.”

“Hey, hey, don't.” Val had one arm between them, pushing back against Wyatt's chest. “It's not worth it.”

Wyatt ignored Val. When Kevin tried yanking free, Wyatt tightened his hold. “Don't you
ever
talk to him”—he dipped his head at Val—“like that again. Better not forget I know a helluva lot about you that Lily doesn't, and I'm sure you never want her finding those facts out.” He let go of Kevin, giving him a shove, and stepped back at the same time.

“You can't threaten me,” Kevin snarled.

“Funny, I think I just did,” Wyatt snapped back. “And that's not a threat; it's a promise.”

“I have work to do.” Kevin brushed by them and left the room.

Lily frowned at Kevin's back as she reentered the room. “God, Wyatt, I'm sorry. Kevin is usually still at work at this time.” She held out some small, glossy folders to Val and offered them a small, sad smile.

Wyatt kissed her cheek and took Val's other hand. “No worries. It was bound to happen sooner or later—us running into one another. No harm done. We'd better go now, though.”

“You'll come to the museum?” Lily asked. She looked hopeful, and Wyatt knew her request was sincere.

“We wouldn't dare miss seeing the place, and I want my grand tour,” Val said. Once again Wyatt silently blessed his luck for finding Val. As they were driving away, Val asked, “Storage place?”

“Yeah.” Wyatt leaned back against the car seat and rubbed his forehead. “I'm sorry.”

“You're not responsible for what other people say.” Val arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Seeing you react like that makes me so hot for you.”

Wyatt burst out laughing. “And yet another reason why I love you. You were right, though, I need to eat.”

“Well, make yourself useful and look up directions to the storage facility, then find us some food to pick up along the way,” Val said. “After that you might want to make a plan to express your love when we get back to the hotel.”

“You know I will.” Wyatt began his search for directions. He had a good feeling about what they would find.

 

T
HE
STORAGE
company was on their way back to the hotel, tucked between a factory type establishment and a flower wholesaler on a busy street. They pulled in and drove slowly along the rows of lockers until they found the one with the same number as the key. Val pulled to the end of the row and parked the car so it wouldn't block any other vehicles moving through.

Wyatt unlocked the unit's main bay door. Beside that was a smaller, regular door. He'd grabbed a flashlight from the car since he had no idea if there were lighting inside. He rolled the door up along its tracks and stood staring at the contents.

“Holy crap.” Val stood next to him, bag of food in one hand.

Wyatt snorted. “Well, that's accurate.”

The unit was probably twenty by twenty. There was a clear path down the center and some furniture along the back. Stacked floor to ceiling along both sides were crates and cardboard boxes. Loose items were scattered about, lying on top of some of the larger boxes.

They looked at one another. Val asked, “Where do we start?”

“I don't think it matters. Don't let anything fall on your head.” Wyatt wandered through to the back of the unit, where some chairs were stacked beside a few benches, tables, and stools. There was a three rung painter's ladder leaning between the benches. Wyatt pulled it to the center, unfolded it, and climbed up to get a better look.

There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the collection. Items were simply stacked randomly where they would fit. Hung on the wall between the two doors was a fire extinguisher. There was a large tool box that looked fairly new tucked under one of the benches. Wyatt opened some of the boxes within reach, looking inside.

“I found these.” Val held up several large, plastic zip bags. Inside was clothing and what looked like other items that had probably been with the bodies. “How would this stuff survive the fire?”

Wyatt handed a few boxes down to Val. “They probably died of suffocation or smoke inhalation. The floor dropped through and trapped them, but the fire didn't get down there is my guess.” He climbed down and picked up a box, carrying it to the back, and set it on a bench. “That's what it looked like to me anyway. That furnace was dented and mangled, so it was disrupted from where it had originally been in the building. Those things were made solid back then. You didn't just kick one and put a dent in it.”

Val laid the bags on top of another box and followed Wyatt. They moved some stools around and cleared places to sit. Val extracted the sandwiches they'd bought and bottles of iced tea from one of the bags, handing Wyatt's to him.

He waved at one box, sat down, and pulled it between his feet. “I'll start here.”

As they sifted through all the things, Wyatt began sorting them according to perceived importance. Items from the speakeasy in general went on one bench, those that were more likely connected to Tom and Philip on another.

“Do you think Lily wanted you to look into this more because you're gay and less because you have archeological experience?” Val asked.

“Yeah, I do. I think she drummed up those qualifications and insisted upon them because she knew Kevin would be forced to accept me working this case.”

“When do you suppose the term ‘beard' came into use?”

Wyatt looked up. “Huh? That's random. Long after the practice began, I'll bet. Why?”

Val held a photograph in one hand and turned it so Wyatt could see. There were two young men with two young women standing between them. They all had their arms around one another. He handed that off to Wyatt and pulled another out of his box. This one had the same four people, but it was a summer scene. “This one says ‘The gang at Euclid Beach, August 1927,'” Val read the back of the picture. “I wonder who these girls are.”

Wyatt squinted at the white border around the actual photograph. In small, neat handwriting along the bottom were names. “Emma and Nancy with Philip and Tom.”