Shelley Freydont - Celebration Bay 03 - Independence Slay (5 page)

She’d never look at a tourist in the same way again. Any of them could be a well-trained agent.

They were replaced by three officers in uniform, not nearly as quiet and much more obvious.

“Now,” Bill said, turning his attention back to Leo, “why were you up on the roof tonight, Leo?”

“Needed to see Old Henry’s ghost.”

“And you thought you would see the ghost on the roof?”

“Oh yeah. Everybody knows it’s the ghost that gives the signal to start the fighting. Just like he did before they hung him.”

“How did you get up on the roof, Leo? Did Hildy let you in?”

Leo had been looking at Bill, but now his eyes drifted to the door. He hunched over closer to the sheriff, and said in a lowered voice, “Came in the secret way, so Hildy wouldn’t catch me and chase me out.”

“Not the way we came up the stairs?” Bill asked.

Leo shook his head. “The secret way.”

“You can show me that way later?”

“Yeah, I can. Old Hildy won’t find us that way.”

Liv frowned at Ted. Once again Leo sounded like he was quoting someone. One of his friends?

“Okay then, when you got to the roof, what did you see?”

Leo thought back. “Somebody lying on the ground. It was Mr. Rundle. So I went over to see why he was lying down. I don’t know why he was up there. Mr. Henry, he doesn’t like him. He came in the house once and Mr. Henry yelled at him. Hildy knows she’s not supposed to let him in.” Leo licked his lips. “Don’t know how he got up on the roof. He don’t know the secret way.”

Leo stopped and took two deep breaths.

“And then what happened?”

Leo shuddered. “He was mad.”

“Rundle?”

“The ghost. He jumped out of nowhere and ran right past where I was. And I got awful scared and tried to hide.”

“Are you sure he was a ghost, Leo?” Bill asked. “And not Mr. Henry?”

Leo frowned, thinking. “No. It was the ghost.”

“How do you know he was the ghost?”

“Cause he had a cape like a general. Old Rundle was dressed like a soldier.”

Liv exchanged a look with Ted. “Did Rundle participate in the reenactment?”

“Never.” Ted raised his eyebrows.

“So what was he doing in a uniform on the roof?”

“A good question,” Ted said, and turned his attention back to Bill.

“Then what happened?”

“He ran right past me growling, like this.” Leo made growling noises. “Then he jumped on the wall and raised up his arms like this.” Leo raised his arms like a bear on his hind legs. “And then he disappeared.” Leo flicked his fingers in the air. “Presto!”

It was the same thing he’d said on the roof.

“That’s some story, Leo.” Bill said.

“It’s the truth, Sheriff. The real truth. Honest.” Leo licked his lips. “Didn’t even wait long enough for me to ask him.”

“Ask who what?”

Leo just stared at him.

“Did you want to ask Mr. Rundle something?”

“No. Old Henry’s ghost.” Leo’s face scrunched in frustration. “Just wanted to talk to him.”

“You needed to talk to the ghost?”

Leo nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Why?”

“Wanted him to tell me.”

Bill waited, but Leo wasn’t more forthcoming.

Bill let out a slow, controlled breath. “What did you want the ghost to tell you?”

“Where the treasure was.”

“Leo, there isn’t really any treasure. It’s just a story that people made up a long time ago.”

“It’s true. Mr. Henry told me. We found lots of treasure but not the real treasure. So I thought if I asked the ghost. Well, I thought if the ghost knew we needed the money, he’d tell me where he hid it.”

“You need the money, Leo?”

“Yes sir.”

“What do you need the money for?”

Ted started to say something.

Bill held up a peremptory hand.

“For the community center.”

“The community center?”

“Yes sir. A man came to talk to Pastor the other day. Said we had to give him money right away or he was gonna take the center away. That isn’t fair. We need it.”

“You’re right, Leo. The center is very important.”

Leo nodded. “But I wish I hadn’t done it.”

Everyone snapped to attention.

“Hadn’t done what?”

Ted stood up. “Bill, I don’t think he should answer any more questions without a lawyer present.”

Bill stood, too, but more slowly. “I believe you’re right. Leo, you just sit here for a minute. How would you like a ride down to the police station?”

“I want to go home.”

“And you will go home, just as soon as we finish up some things at the station.”

“Can we turn on the siren?”

Bill hesitated. “Sure we can. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

Leo nodded, looking less scared than he had all night.

“You know Officer Meese, don’t you? You just go on out to my cruiser with him, and I’ll be out in a minute. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Meese waited for Leo to amble over to him, then he smiled and took him away.

Bill came over to Ted and Liv.

“I think it would be a good idea to call Silas Lark and have him meet us. Then I’d appreciate it if you two would come out to the station and give your statements there.”

“Of course,” Ted said. “What do you think?”

“I think this isn’t looking good at all.”

“You don’t really think Leo killed Rundle?”

“No. But I think he saw who did. And if the murderer saw him…”

“What?” asked Liv.

“He might come back for Leo.”

Neither Ted nor Liv felt like talking as they made their way back to Town Hall to get Ted’s SUV. Since Celebration Bay didn’t have its own police department, Ted drove the nearly ten miles to the Sheriff’s Office.

Liv had a million questions bouncing around her brain, but she knew better than to discuss things before she gave a statement. Memory was easily befuddled by discussion.

It sort of freaked her out that she knew information like “don’t discuss a case”; “don’t compare notes of a crime scene”; “don’t make conjectures before giving your statement.” The kind of knowledge she should only know from television and not from experience. She certainly hadn’t needed to use that knowledge on the mean streets of Manhattan.

But since moving to Celebration Bay nearly a year ago, she’d been involved in several murder investigations. Not because she was from Manhattan, which Roseanne Waterbury thought gave her an eye for crime. Not because she was nosy, according to Chaz Bristow, the missing
Clarion
editor.

But because she was the town’s event coordinator, which put her in contact with vast numbers of people, kept her knowledgeable about the details of various sites, and made her the first person anyone called when they had a problem, including, it seemed, murder.

She’d never been called on to help with an investigation in Manhattan. She’d never even come close to murder or even accidental death. Once she’d seen a taxi hit a bag lady who had stepped off the curb before the light changed, but the driver had stopped—causing a huge traffic jam—and helped her across the street, where she continued on her way.

Celebration Bay was a small, quaint town with good people and holidays galore. It was also the scene of small-town secrets and smothered anger and was so tightly knit and taciturn that any wrongdoing could fester until it finally exploded either in a yelling match, a fight at the pub, or something more violent.

But why the gardener? And why had he been portraying a historical figure in full view of several hundred people when he wasn’t even supposed to be there at all?

Liv thought back to when he’d first appeared, an eerie white aura surrounding him. It was a great effect. His uniform, in her mind’s eye, shone in a ghostly way, which she guessed was the whole point.

Hundreds of people watched Rundle give the signal, but Liv couldn’t remember seeing his face. Then he backed away from the wall and away from view. And into the killer’s bayonet?

Not unless the killer was also one of the reenactors, dressed in military garb. The man certainly couldn’t have walked into his own bayonet. And besides, if he was supposed to be the ghost, why did he have a bayonet at all? And what were both of them doing on the roof when it should have been Henry Gallantine?

“Liv, we’re here.”

“What? Oh.”

The Sheriff’s Office was a utilitarian building built on a section of rolling hill, with a well-lit parking lot large enough to accommodate at least forty vehicles. There were only a handful of cars in the lot, and Ted found a spot right in front of the main entrance.

They met Reverend Schorr on his way inside. Phillip Schorr was pastor of the First Presbyterian Church where Liv had attended services with her landladies. He was also the director of the town’s community center. He was young for a pastor, Liv thought. Mid-thirties, a dynamic speaker, and a kind man. And his slightly longish hair and his boyish charm helped fill the pews each Sunday.

Tonight he looked a bit incongruous with his clerical collar sticking out from the opening of a bright-red polo shirt.

“I got here as soon as I heard,” he told them. “Leo wouldn’t hurt a soul. There’s been a terrible mistake.”

Liv was glad he’d come. Maybe he could explain why Leo wanted to ask the ghost for money to give to the community center. He would be a respected advocate. And right now it looked like Leo could use all the allies they could muster.

The three of them walked inside and stopped at the sign-in desk. The desk sergeant sent them straight through to Bill’s office.

Liv was surprised to see Leo sitting at a rectangular table drinking a soda and helping himself to a box of cookies.

Silas Lark was also there. He came over to meet the three as they entered. He was a small man with thinning dark hair, mild mannered, but he took no prisoners according to Miss Edna. Liv had seen him in action. She was glad he appeared to be representing Leo—if the young man needed representing, which she ardently hoped he wouldn’t.

Liv leaned over to whisper to Ted. “Where are his parents?”

Ted frowned. “Tell you later.”

Pastor Schorr went straight over to the table and said with a smile, “I hear you’ve been having some adventures tonight, Leo.”

Leo shrugged, looking contrite. “I wanted to talk to the ghost.”

Schorr placed a comforting hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Now, you know, son, that there’s only one ghost and that’s the Holy Ghost and he loves all his children.”

Leo nodded, but he frowned, as if he weren’t sure. Liv didn’t know what was different about Leo. He was slow in the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he thought, though he went to high school with the other local teenagers.

“You know you’re safe with God?”

Leo nodded.

Liv thought that was all well and good, but if the person who had murdered Rundle and had attacked Leo thought Leo may have recognized him, the boy would probably need a little more get-down-and-get-dirty earthly protection.

Which made her think of Chaz Bristow, something that was happening more often the longer he stayed away from town. He’d taken Leo and some of the other kids out fishing more than once. Any other man would call it mentoring. Chaz said it was a pain in the butt, but it was the only way they would stop pestering him.

“So, you don’t have to worry about any other ghosts.”

Leo shook his head.

Liv didn’t think it would be so easy. Leo had feared for his life up there on the roof.

“Is Leo eighteen?” she asked Ted.

Ted nodded, tight-lipped. So if it came to it, he would be tried as an adult. She looked over at the boy happily separating the two sides of the cookies and licking out the cream filling before eating the outsides.

She didn’t for a minute think he’d killed Jacob Rundle. But she’d only met him a few times and those times were when Whiskey had been with her. Boy and dog had bonded over the “Hallelujah Chorus” last December. Now they were fast friends. Of course, Whiskey was Mr. Congeniality.

On the other hand, he knew a bad guy when he smelled him, and he liked Leo. Could dogs testify in court?

Bill came in a few seconds later. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, but I stayed to ask Hildy a few questions.”

Leo looked up and actually smiled at the sheriff; there was a chocolate ring around his mouth from the cookies, and in spite of his size he looked so young that Liv longed to protect him, which was strange, since she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body—not yet anyway.

Ted pulled Bill aside before he got two steps into the room. “Are you charging him?”

“Not at this point. I don’t think he’s a flight risk, and all the evidence is circumstantial so far. We’ll know more after the tests come back from the state lab.”

Which could take months
, Liv thought. She glanced at Ted and knew he was thinking the same thing. Plenty of time to find the real killer and just hope to heaven it didn’t turn out to be Leo.

They each gave their version of what had happened that night and then were sent home. Leo was released into the custody of Reverend Schorr, though how adept the young bachelor would be at caring for the teenager, “gentle soul” or not, was anybody’s guess.

Silas Lark and Ted had a short conversation on the sidewalk after they left the station. Liv gave them their privacy because she knew Ted would tell her what was said, and she didn’t want to cramp the lawyer’s style.

After almost a year, she was still considered an outsider. Not in the day-to-day happenings, but when things got dicey and the town drew together. She didn’t feel too bad; BeBe had lived in Celebration Bay for twelve years and she was still considered a newbie.

“What do you make of Leo’s story?” Liv asked as she and Ted were driving back to town.

“Well, if I didn’t know Leo—and really, I haven’t had much interaction with him—I would say it’s pretty farfetched.” He slowed down at a crossroad and looked both ways before proceeding.

“But I’ve never heard of him being in any kind of trouble. He’s liked by the other kids, except for the bullies of course. He spends a lot of time at the community center. I think he lives with a single mother and several siblings.”

“You think? Don’t you
know
?” she asked half-teasingly. Ted was Gossip Central, he generally knew everything about everybody, and it seemed to Liv that he didn’t even have to try. The weird part was that nobody knew much about him.

He wasn’t secretive; he just didn’t talk about his past or his personal life. And where that would usually run up red flags for Liv, it didn’t with Ted. He was a man unto himself. A gentleman—intelligent, dependable—and he loved her dog.

“Okay,” Liv said, bringing her mind back to Leo’s dilemma. “He really does believe in ghosts?”

“Seems so.”

“And he really thinks there is a treasure.”

“Yes. You saw his face when Rundle was talking about it out in the yard.”

She had. “Do you believe in the treasure?”

Ted cut her a quick look but kept his eyes on the road. It was dark and late and country roads were notorious for accidents, especially on holidays, when the drinks flowed to excess.

“I don’t discount the possibility.”

“Really,” said Liv, intrigued.

“Though I tend to think that if something is still hidden after all these years—over two hundred of them—it would be a document of some kind. And if someone actually found it, it would probably disintegrate the moment they picked it up.”

“Hmm,” Liv said. “The other thing—” Her sentence was stopped by a jaw-cracking yawn. It was after midnight; they’d both been working nonstop and had to get up early the next day for the parade. “When the housekeeper saw the gurney, she thought it was Henry Gallantine. I thought you said he left town every July to visit family.”

“I did.”

“Let me rephrase that. Does Henry Gallantine leave town every July?”

Ted shrugged.

“He doesn’t.”

“Let me put it this way. He does. But not until after the Fourth and the reenactment. He likes to keep up the mystery of the ghost appearing on the roof. So he makes a big show of leaving town, then comes back for a final appearance before he really leaves for the summer. It’s part of his mystique: It’s a big secret, only everyone is in on it, but they pretend not to know. It’s more fun that way. A true eccentric.”

“Along with a lot of other people in this town. So that’s why Hildy was so upset? She knew it should have been Henry Gallantine on the roof.”
And covered up on the gurney.

“Hmm.”

“I wonder if the murderer thought he was killing Henry?”

“I have no idea.”

“And if Henry Gallantine was supposed to be there and wasn’t, where is he?”

Ted smothered a yawn. “Oh Lord, I couldn’t even follow that question, much less try to answer it.”

“Ted, don’t be obtuse. Do you think whoever killed Rundle was after him or Gallantine?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to drop you off at home. There’s no need to go back to the office tonight.”

They passed Town Hall, passed the square where chairs lined the parade route. And turned onto Liv’s street.

“Do you think he’s dead, too?”

Ted slowed down to make the turn into her driveway, drove all the way to the end, and stopped in front of her carriage house.

“I haven’t the foggiest. Good night, Liv.”

Interrogation closed. She wouldn’t be learning any more from Ted tonight. It was standard operating procedure, making her work for information. It heightened the drama and Ted’s entertainment. Though tonight he didn’t seem to be enjoying the game.

“Good night,” she said. It didn’t matter. She’d find out. Eventually. She always did.

• • •

Liv’s alarm went off way too early the next morning. For a few minutes she just lay blinking into the darkened bedroom. But she got up and was halfway to the bathroom before she remembered why she’d stayed up so late last night. Leo… She didn’t even know Leo’s last name.

She showered and went back to her bedroom, where a sleepy Westie opened one eye, then closed it again. He thought it was way too early to wake up on a Saturday morning.

“It’s parade day,” she said as brightly as she could manage.

He blinked, then lowered his muzzle to his paws and settled back down onto his plaid doggie bed.

“People will be dropping food all day.”

Whiskey sneezed.

“And your friend Leo is in big trouble.”

His ears flew up, he wriggled up to all fours and barked.

“Thought you’d want to know. Though I don’t see how any of us can help. Nasty stuff is going on out there.” Hopefully the parade would go off without a hitch.

Liv looked in her closet. It was going to be a scorcher. Somehow a flowered sundress didn’t strike her as appropriate parade wear, but she’d just about exhausted her red, white, and blue options.

And it was really hard to care about clothes when a man had been murdered and a young teenager was the most obvious suspect.

But she couldn’t stand staring into her closet all morning. She had a responsibility, a job to do—a red, white, and blue job to do.

She pushed back some hangers and began rummaging through the contents of her closet. She’d had to invest in a whole new wardrobe since moving to Celebration Bay.

She hadn’t realized when she’d interviewed for the job that theme was the almighty arbiter of fashion. Even on nonspecific holidays, anyone with a store or a function dressed to the hilt. Liv had made it through fall okay, thanks to one late-night Internet shopping spree right before she left Manhattan. She’d been buying haphazardly and at the last minute ever since.