Black as Night: A Fairy Tale Retold (36 page)

“So what are your plans for the fall?” Jean asked, beating him to the punch.

“Actually,” Bear said slowly, “I’ve been thinking about starting a company specializing in the restoration of old buildings, particularly churches. Maybe concentrating on stonework.”

 “Stonework?” the women said.

He rubbed his chin. “Over in Europe, the buildings are so incredible, particularly the churches. We’ve lost a lot of those skills—masonry, stone carving. I’d like to start a company to bring some of those skills back, a company that could also do restorations of old churches and historical buildings, or create new ones in the old style. I was thinking of looking around for a master whom I could hire and then make myself his apprentice. Maybe later on I could take on some of these street kids without job skills, make them apprentices, and teach them, like they do at the Episcopalian cathedral in the City. I had a few ideas when I was over in Rome, and I’ve got to develop them, but in the fall, I think I’ll start pursuing that.” He outlined a few ideas he had about how to proceed, and noticed that even Fish was listening with interest and approval.

“That is so cool,” Rose breathed as he finished. “I hope it works out.”

Bear let himself smile, as he took his last bite. “Yeah, I guess the time in Europe was productive for me, after all.” He stretched. “Of course, serving a mandatory federal prison sentence of five years for drug possession would postpone those plans a bit, so, Fish, why don’t you and I get back to business?”

“Just what I was thinking myself,” his brother said. “Jean, would you mind if Bear and I talked privately for a few minutes?”

“Not at all,” Jean said. “Rose and I were going to make some cookies.”

“How about I do the dishes?” Mrs. Foster said, getting to her feet.

Jean also got up, “You two boys can go sit out in the living room and talk. Can we get you tea?”

“Yes, please. In order to think clearly after a dinner that good, I require tea,” Fish said, and Bear nodded, and eased himself onto the couch. His body began the process of shutting down almost instantly.

“Did you find out anything more at the banquet hall?” Bear murmured, forcing himself to ask. Truthfully, he just wanted to sleep.

“Just that they charge an enormous price for rental, that they are able to get napkins in peacock blue, if necessary, and that they contract with the same bakery who created the wedding cake for Frank Sinatra’s granddaughter. Amazing how Miss Brier can be so charming. She had Mr. Carnazzo eating out of her hand by the time we were done. Oh, and if she ever does get married, she told me she’d rather have a wedding reception in an old barn with square dancing. That was after we left.”

He sat up, perceiving that Bear was dozing. “Now, first tell me what you found out when Rita showed you around.”

Bear stifled a yawn and detailed the story.

“Hmph. More strangeness but no real progress. As difficult as it was for you, you probably learned more from that Hunter guy. More proof that whoever is behind this has been going to great lengths to set up Blanche. I wonder. Are they trying to get at Blanche through us or get to us through Blanche?”

“They could be trying to get both of us,” Bear said, touching the back of his head where a large bruise was spreading out. “Or at least me in particular. I feel singled out for some special attention.”

“Not that you haven’t gone looking for it,” Fish pointed out. Bear guessed Fish was irked that Bear had gone off on his own after Hunter without consultation.

“Well, I found out one good thing: Blanche wasn’t being stalked. An agent was watching her, and he was becoming convinced that she was innocent. I’m relieved about that.” Bear yawned, and covered his mouth.

“I’m going to put in a call to the DEA and find out if this Hunter guy is really an agent of theirs, since you didn’t bother to ask to see his ID,” Fish said.

“I was handcuffed and under his gun in a dark tunnel when he said that,” Bear objected.

“Excuses, excuses. Well, I’ll find out the truth. So, anyhow, it looks like Blanche was spooked by this agent following her around and took off someplace for a few days. At least we know he didn’t do her in, although if she doesn’t watch herself, she’ll end up framed for drug possession like we were,” Fish said reflectively.

“Yes, that’s the question: framed by who?” Bear asked, feeling as though someone were shuffling cards endlessly in his brain.

“Whoever is doing it is not terribly creative. They’ve planted drugs in Blanche’s house. Then they send a tip to an agent to watch her. They plant drugs in our apartment and send a tip to the manager. That’s their mode of operation.”

“But who are ‘they’?”

“Well, to start with, they must know a lot about Blanche. And by deduction, us.”

“No kidding,” Bear said.

“They might know us personally as well which would mean we know them.”

“Great. When we find out who they are, I’ll take them off my Christmas card list,” Bear said.

“Who are you taking off your Christmas card list?” Rose asked as she came from the kitchen doorway with the tea tray.

 “Ah, thank you for the tea, Rose. Now...run away and play for a while,” Fish said.

Rose made a face, set down the tea tray on the table, and sat down on the couch firmly. “It’s my sister who’s missing,” she informed Fish. “I don’t see why you should keep trying to exclude me.”

“It’s hardly personal,” Fish said, taking a teacup with a sigh and preparing it in his usual manner. “If we don’t include you, it’s only because we don’t want to see you get yourself killed.”

“I won’t get killed,” Rose protested.

“Is that a promise?” Fish asked dryly, stirring his tea. “If you break your word, I’ll never believe you again.”

Rose shook her head at him. “How can you even taste your tea if you put that much sugar in it?”

“Don’t change the subject. I don’t want to be the person responsible for depriving the world of Rose Brier. Under no circumstances are you allowed to help us do anything more dangerous than...changing the oil on my car.”

Rose looked at him disdainfully. “I know how to do that already. My dad showed me how.”

“Really? That’s stupendous. Why don’t you go outside and do it for me now? There’s a good girl.” Fish got to his feet and pulled Rose to hers. “While you’re at it, check all the fuses. I think some of them are blown.”

“Rose? Let the boys alone for a while,” Jean called from the kitchen.

Rose glowered. Bear met her eyes and nodded his head in his brother’s direction
. Be patient with him
, Bear’s wry expression said.

Barely mollified, she got up. “Yes, Mom, I’ll leave the
boys
alone,” and with a toss of her red hair, left the room.

“I wouldn’t have minded if she stayed, Fish,” Bear said quietly.

“Sorry. I am a strictly two-man strategist. Trying to involve more than one other person in this will make my head ache.” Fish slumped down in his seat. “Winsome,” he muttered to himself. “Where in the world did she come up with that?”

Bear grinned. “Taken in by your endearing personality, obviously. I’ve always thought you were rather winsome, myself.”

“The fact that I was so charming had escaped me until just now.” Looking over at Bear, Fish relented. “All right, if you want to invite them all to talk with us, go ahead. I’ll try to be cordial.”

“Okay, Mr. Winsome.” Bear raised himself painfully to his feet and went out into the kitchen. Mrs. Foster was up to her elbows in dish suds. Jean was dabbing chocolate chip cookie batter onto a baking sheet. She looked at him with raised eyebrows and he nodded his head. “How are things going?” he asked her.

“Fine. You said you had some fairly good news about Blanche?” She opened the oven and slid the tray in.

He told her and Rose what he had learned from Hunter. Rose and her mother and Mrs. Foster listened avidly. When the cookies came from the oven, they all stood around listening and eating them from the hot tray until Jean said, “Let’s be civilized and sit down at the coffee table, shall we?”

So they trooped into the living room again, where Fish offered to help serve the tea.

Bear rubbed his forehead, still trying to wake up. “Jean, I forgot to ask you, in all the excitement, if you and Mrs. Foster found out anything more today. You were talking to the old people Blanche made home visits to?”

“Well, I think we’ve covered just about all her nursing home patients. They’re not all old. Some of them are just invalids,” Jean said. But she shook her head. “Actually, there’s still one person I haven’t been able to track down. Her friend Mr. Fairston.”

“Who?”

“I mentioned him before. He’s the sick man Blanche used to read poetry to. I’ve never met him, but I know Blanche was worried about him. She described him as a lonely old man with relatives who seemed to be neglecting him.” She looked up, and Bear saw that she was crying. They all needed some sort of let up to the stress and suspense. Rose rubbed her mother’s shoulders. “I know visiting him and trying to encourage him was very important to Blanche.”

“But you can’t find this man?”

“No,” Jean sighed. “All I know is that he was at a banquet Blanche worked this summer. His number’s not in the phone book, and I can’t track down his address either, so I’m at a dead end.”

They were all quiet for a few moments before Bear said, “Maybe tomorrow we can go over the details with you and see if we can track him down.” He suddenly felt weary all over again and irritably massaged his sore arm.

There was a pause. Rose picked up a cookie and pointed at Fish with it. “Before Mom brought up Mr. Fairston, I was trying to figure out if this was connected with jealousy, somehow. I mean, you know, Blanche is very pretty, and I keep on wondering if there’s a rival here who wanted to get her out of the way...”

“Just like a romantic,” Fish muttered, drinking his tea. “I grant you, she
is
very pretty, but it would have to be a fairly extreme case of jealousy for someone to go to the lengths they have. And that’s not very likely, is it?”

Bear suddenly looked at Fish, blinking. The next moment, he had gotten to his feet, shaking all the china on the table.

“Are you all right?” Jean said, taken aback.

His mind was racing as he walked over to the desk. “Jean, do you still have that photo of Blanche?” he asked. “It was here with the mail when we first came to your house before you got back.”

“Yes, it’s right there in the slot with the envelopes. I was wondering about it too,” Jean said, rising and following him. “It’s such a good photo of her.”

Bear found the photo as Fish and Rose came over. Fish, who hadn’t noticed it before, whistled when he saw it. “Great picture,” he said.

But Bear had already turned it over. He grabbed the nearby phone book and started turning pages.

The other four watched him, mystified.

“What are you looking for?” Rose asked finally.

“Longbourne Studios,” Mrs. Foster had caught on at once, pointing to the photographer’s mark on the back.

Longbourne Studios didn’t advertise in the yellow pages, but Bear found their name in the white pages. He dialed the number.

A phone picked up, and a perky female voice said, “Good evening! Longbourne Studios.”

Bear cleared his throat. “Hi. I have a question about a photograph from your studio. It’s very important.”

“That’s probably something you’ll have to talk about with our photographer, and I’m afraid he’s gone for the evening.”

“Is there any way I can reach him over the weekend? Like I said, it’s very important.”

“Oh, he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Sunday?”

“Yes. He said he’d be in at noon to get his equipment. Would you like to see him then?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Super! Then I’ll leave a note to tell him that you’ll be in.” She took his name and number, cheerily thanked him for calling, and hung up.

Bear hung up the phone and turned to find four sets of eyes staring at him.

“Bear?” Fish asked tentatively, after a few moments of silence.

“Just a hunch. Just a hunch,” Bear murmured.

“Is it going to be dangerous?” Rose asked.

“Most likely not,” Bear said.

“You
are
taking me with you,” Rose said.

Chapter Nineteen