Текст книги "Crowned and Moldering"

Автор книги: Kate Carlisle

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

What kind of a creep said that to a teenage girl, especially when that girl worked a construction job every afternoon with her dad? My father finally had to complain to the principal, and I was reassigned to Mrs. Sweet, whose personality fitted her name. I still sent her a Christmas card every year.

Why would Ms. Barney continue to allow Dismal Dain to counsel students? Did school counselors get some kind of tenure? Maybe he was blackmailing her. There was no other reason I could think of. The man was a horror show. There had to have been hundreds of complaints by now.

I glanced up and down the hall and realized it wouldn’t be smart to be caught snooping around here, so I walked away.

I didn’t know which office Eric had gone into, but his visit must have had something to do with Lily. Which meant that one of those three counselors had to have advised Lily all those years ago. And on the off chance that she’d been stuck with Dismal Dain, I fully intended to visit Eric that afternoon to let him know why that despicable man belonged right at the top of his suspect list.

Chapter Six

I reached my truck, still flipped out about Dismal Dain. It had been almost fifteen years since I’d been stuck with him. I had to think that in all that time he must have been warned at some point to clean up his act. I hoped he’d been forced to take sexual-harassment training and psychological counseling so he no longer came across like the sexist troglodyte he’d been when I knew him. One could always hope. But the real issue with him went deeper than that. Dain’s real problem was that he hated people, especially teenagers. I wondered just how bad his own school counselor had been to steer him toward a career working with the very people he most despised.

I drove through town on my way to my friend Emily Rose’s new home, the former Rawley mansion, where several of my guys were already at work. Sean would be assigned there for the time being, until we could get back inside the lighthouse mansion. Although now that I thought about it, it would be better to switch him with Douglas. I doubted Sean would want to work every day in the place where his sister’s remains had been found.

As I stopped at the light across from the Cozy Cove Diner, my cell phone rang. I clicked the button on my Bluetooth and said hello.

“Shannon? It’s Teddy calling.” Teddy Peters was head of the Planning Commission and an old friend of my father’s.

“Hi, Teddy. What’s up?”

“It’s Aldous again,” he said, his tone apologetic. “Do you have time to come by the office this morning? I need your help talking him down off the ledge.”

“Off the ledge? Is he about to . . .” Was Aldous threatening to kill himself? The Planning Commission’s offices were on the first floor of City Hall. Could he really hurt himself?

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” he rushed to add. “But I just ran into him in the hall and he’s all riled up again. He’s still got that bug up his bum over the lighthouse-mansion rehab and he won’t let it go. Can you talk to him?”

I didn’t resist rolling my eyes, since no one was there to see me. From the first day I’d met with the Planning Commission to discuss Mac’s proposal for a few modest changes to the mansion, Aldous Murch had questioned my ideas and had worried aloud whether I would destroy the town’s beautiful old landmark. Never mind the part about insulting me professionally and hurting my feelings on a personal level; he was just plain wrong. I’d tried at least ten times—no exaggeration—to go over the blueprints with him, but he would just shake his head, grumble that I didn’t know what I was talking about, and stomp off.

“Is he there right now?” I asked.

“Yes. I swear he’s going to have a heart attack over this thing if he doesn’t calm down.”

“We don’t want that, but I’m not sure I can do anything to help. We’ve gone around and around on this issue.”

“I know, but I’d appreciate your coming by if you can.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, kiddo.”

As I drove to City Hall, I thought about the best way to handle the crotchety old man. Aldous was at least eighty-five years old, and besides his long-held seat on the Planning Commission, he also ran the town’s Historical Society. He had been one of the original group of coastguardsmen stationed at the lighthouse mansion during World War II, when there was a constant threat of Japanese submarines along the coast. So, to be fair, no one in town had a more vested interest in making sure the lighthouse mansion maintained its historical integrity than Aldous. But the fact that he doubted my ability to do my job was upsetting. The man knew me. Knew my work. I was trying to be thoughtful of his age and his concerns, but all this arguing was starting to annoy me.

I tracked down Teddy in his cramped office and knocked on the open door. He glanced up. “Oh good. You’re here.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s not going to listen to me. He never has.”

“That’s funny, because he complains that you’re the one who won’t listen.”

“He would never have pulled this attitude with my father,” I muttered, disgusted with the old guy.

“You’re partly right, and I’m sorry. But, truth be told, your father would’ve dragged Aldous over to the pub for a beer and they would’ve hashed it out.”

“Well, even if I invited him to the pub, he wouldn’t show up. And that’s the crux of the problem. He doesn’t trust me because I’m female, and that little detail isn’t going to change anytime soon.”

Teddy chuckled as he led me down a long hallway and into the large mahogany-paneled meeting hall. He gestured toward the old man sitting in a chair at the massive conference table, his back toward us. He didn’t see me standing at the door.

“Just go talk to him,” Teddy whispered.

“I’m willing to do this for you, Teddy, but please don’t blame me if nothing changes.” I walked straight across the room and right up to Aldous, who flinched when he saw me. “Hello, Mr. Murch.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you here to admit your mistake?”

“What? No.” He really was losing it. “I’m here because the other commission members told me you have something to say to me.”

He shook his finger at me as though I were a misbehaving ten-year-old. “I drove out there, and the place is covered in yellow construction ribbon. You can’t start the project until you tear down the stairway.”

“It’s not construction ribbon,” I said sharply. “It’s crime-scene tape. We found a dead body inside the house.”

His eyes blinked and his hands shook. “A . . . a body? You found her, then? On the staircase?” He worked his jaw back and forth and rubbed his hand over his mouth a few times, clearly uneasy. “No. Not on the staircase. The body was . . . We . . .” He blinked again and continued to mumble, but I couldn’t understand him.

I regretted my outburst. Aldous was an old man and obviously couldn’t take that kind of shock. But he’d said something about a body. Had he been around when Lily was killed?

“Aldous, do remember seeing someone hanging around inside the lighthouse mansion? A girl, maybe? Someone who didn’t belong there?”

He stared at me for a few long seconds, as if he didn’t know me. A moment later, the haze cleared from his eyes and he was glaring at me again. “You need to tear down the staircase.”

My shoulders sagged a little. Hearing him say the same words he’d been repeating for the past two months made me want to run from the room. In the beginning, I had worried that Aldous’s protests over the sale itself and the plans for renovation would cause Mac to back out of the deal. That worry had passed, thank goodness, but now I was concerned that his mind was slipping.

The problem was that just when I was about to feel sorry for him being nonsensical, he would turn all cantankerous about the mansion because he’d lived there once upon a time and he considered himself an expert. He was also a stickler for the most obscure Historical Society rules and procedures, which he’d probably made up himself.

I wanted to be kind to the old man, but he had tried my patience to the limit. I decided to take a different tack. I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “You’ve been friends with my father for years and he taught me everything he knows. Don’t you trust him?”

“This isn’t about your father.”

“Of course it is. He entrusted his company to me. Now it looks like you don’t trust me to do a good job on the mansion and you’re letting everybody in town know about it. Are you trying to ruin my business?”

I caught the distress in his expression as he leaned back away from me. “I’m not ruining your business.”

“But you’re bad-mouthing me around City Hall,” I explained. “What if some homeowner gets wind of it? Do you think they’ll ever hire me?”

“Now see here, young lady.” He wagged his finger at me. “I have nothing but respect for you and your father, and your business is doing just fine. My concern is with the lighthouse mansion.”

“That’s my concern, too.”

“Good. Then we’re agreed.”

I frowned. “Okay.”

“So, you’ll admit that you’re wrong about the blueprints.”

“What? No.” I shook my head to clear it. “No. I have the very latest version of the architect’s prints and I’ve done a complete walk-through of the house. The blueprints are correct.”

He threw his hands up. “Then it’ll all be ruined.”

And we were back to where we’d started. This was the same argument I’d been having with him for weeks. And I didn’t even understand what his problem was. Aldous had claimed there were other blueprints for the mansion and I had the wrong set. But I’d gone back in the Planning Commission archives and checked the original version against the more updated set and they were exactly the same. I’d followed them as we did our walk-through the other day. The blueprints I was using were correct. I didn’t know any other way to explain that to the old man.

“Chimney,” he muttered, mindlessly scribbling squiggles on a piece of paper. “There’s no chimney.”

“There are four chimneys,” I said quietly.

He shot me a heated look. “How many staircases?”

“One.”

His jaw clenched so tightly, I thought he might break a tooth. I hated to see him so angry. I sighed and reached over to take his hand in mine. I could feel every one of his fragile bones and his thin, crepey skin. I wondered how much longer he would live, and I was suddenly afraid this fight would be the death of him. I wanted to end our argument right here and now. “Mr. Murch, I don’t want to argue about this anymore. All I can do is promise, on my father’s honor, that I will make you proud of the job I do on the lighthouse mansion.”

His lips shook slightly as he spoke. “I believe you, dear.”

“And anytime you want to come out to the mansion and see what we’re doing, you’re always welcome. I’ll even drive you out there myself.”

His smile seemed a little sad. “I’ll take you up on that offer one of these days.”

Was that an admission of my ability to do a good job or had he just given up the fight for now? I didn’t have a clue, but I wasn’t about to go another round with him.

“I’m available anytime. All you have to do is call me.” I squeezed his hand once more before letting it go. Giving him an encouraging smile and a nod, I stood and walked away. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as I left the meeting hall. I felt bad for Aldous, but I couldn’t do anything to fix a delusion from the past that had no basis in reality.

I made a quick detour to Teddy’s office to let him know that Aldous seemed willing to call a truce for now. “I can’t tell you if he’ll feel the same way tomorrow, but he didn’t want to argue anymore. Maybe I just wore him out.”

Teddy shrugged. “I guess that’s something. But I’m afraid the old guy still has plenty of rant left in him.”

“I suppose you’ll call me if he gets going again.”

“You bet I will,” he said cheerily.

I shook my head and walked out of his office.

*   *   *

I finally made it to Emily’s house and walked in on the organized chaos of a full-blown rehab. A ladder was perched under the chandelier medallion in the foyer. A dozen five-gallon drums of paint were lined up along the stairwell, along with clean paint rollers, a couple of roller extensions, and a stack of paint trays. Streaks of different colors were slashed across the wall of the dining room, where Emily was testing which ones she liked best. Splotched drop cloths covered every inch of floor space. Blue painter’s tape masked the edges of all the windows.

“Hey, boss,” Johnny said from atop the ladder. He wore a baseball cap backward to protect his hair from flakes of dried spackle as he patched up a thin crack that ran half the length of the narrow room. If the crack had been any wider, we would’ve had to use drywall compound, because spackle was likely to dry unevenly and eventually crumble and fall out of a large crack. For a small one like this, I thought we were safe with spackle. It went on more smoothly without having to be sanded, and it dried quickly.

“Good job, Johnny.”

“Ceiling should be ready to paint anytime.”

“Has Emily chosen the colors she wants in here?”

“Yeah, about six different times.”

I laughed. “She’s having an adventure.”

“She’s cool,” he said, grinning.

Emily had surprised us all a few months ago when she announced that she’d purchased the old Rawley mansion. She’d heard the rumors that the place was haunted but laughed it off, especially since the asking price for the home had been drastically reduced based on those rumors. Little did she know that the ghost of Mrs. Rawley would indeed turn out to be her new roommate.

Nobody had believed me when I’d claimed to have seen the ghost once years ago, when my friend Jane and I had been trick-or-treating. I’d dared to peek through a window and had seen a woman sitting nearby writing a letter and crying. I didn’t realize she was a ghost until she started to fade and I could see right through her!

I didn’t dare mention it to Emily at first, but then I didn’t have to, because as we started working on the house, Mrs. Rawley made her presence known in some startling ways: shaking chandeliers, moaning and groaning, flying paint cans. Ever since we’d discovered her old diary buried behind a wall, though, she had eased up on the spirited antics. Emily insisted that the ghostly presence was comforting.

Things felt peaceful as I walked through the house, checking on the work we’d done so far. I tracked down Sean and Douglas in the kitchen, where they were removing the old sink in the butler’s pantry.

“Hey, guys,” I said.

“Hi, Shannon,” Douglas said, grunting as he lifted his end of the heavy cast-iron sink. They set the thing down on the linoleum and stood, breathing heavily.

“That weighs a ton,” Sean said, wiping his forehead. He looked at me and smiled, but I could tell by the sad look in his eyes that he wasn’t himself yet. And who could blame him? “Where have you been all morning?”

I grinned. “I ran over to the high school to sign the waivers for the senior-parking-lot job.”

“Did we get it?” Douglas asked.

“Yes. I’ll work up a schedule as soon as I hear from the solar company.”

“That’s awesome, boss,” Sean said, and this time his smile reached his eyes.

“I think it will be. And you know I always like trying something new and different.”

“This will be different,” Douglas agreed.

Sean stuck his cap on his head. “Ready to move another sink?”

“Let’s do it,” Douglas said.

“Wait, Sean,” I interjected. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” He glanced at Douglas. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“No problem,” Douglas said. He grabbed a half-filled bottle of water and chugged it down.

I led the way to the kitchen door and we walked outside.

“What’s up, boss?”

I quickly zipped up my down jacket to keep the cold March wind from turning me into an icicle. The sky above us was crystal blue, but out along the horizon, dark gray clouds loomed once more. The air practically snapped with the smell of ozone and salt. I didn’t need a meteorologist to predict it would be raining by sunset. I turned and faced Sean. “I saw Chief Jensen at the school this morning, going into the counselors’ offices.”

He thought about that and I saw the exact moment when the light dawned. “He wants to talk to Lily’s high school counselor.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s what I figured.”

Sean’s placid expression turned to a glower. “That’s good. That makes sense. I just hope he kicks that jackass in the behind for the things he told Lily.”

I asked the question carefully. “Exactly which jackass are you referring to?”

He glared at me. “Who else? Dismal Dain.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “I figured it might be him.”

“Did you know him?”

“I was assigned to him when I was a freshman, but he was so awful, my father finally protested and I got switched to Mrs. Sweet.”

“You’re lucky you had a father who cared.” Sean scuffed his boot against the cement foundation. “Lily, not so much.”

“Dain was horrible,” I said, remembering the man’s mortifying advice as clearly as if I’d heard it an only hour ago. “He was an impossible combination of stupid and arrogant and hateful.”

“Tell me about it.”

So I did, relating some of the highlights of my conversations with Dain. By the time I was finished, Sean was laughing again.

“He thought you should be a hairdresser? That’s priceless. The guy’s a moron.”

“I know.” I brushed my hair back self-consciously.

“Oh, come on, boss. You’ve got great hair.”

“And a lot of it.”

“Maybe that’s how he came up with the idea. He sure didn’t bother to get to know you, because if he had, he would’ve realized that you’ve been working construction since you were a kid and you’re good at it besides. The guy didn’t have a clue how to do his job.”

A gust of wind swept by and I pulled my collar close to my neck to keep warm. “He should’ve been fired years ago. I still can’t believe he’s still there.”

He shook his head. “Me neither.”

“He must be blackmailing somebody on the school board or something. There’s no way he could’ve lasted this long otherwise.”

Sean chuckled. “That’s one explanation. I don’t know how they can justify paying him an actual salary to dole out such bad advice.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of stuff he told Lily?”

“Oh yeah.” He sniffed in disgust, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the side of the house. “Remember how Lily had the lead in the school play?”

“Sure. I used to watch her every night while I was building sets. She was so talented and beautiful.”

“She was a good student, too, despite all our problems at home. She was determined to win a full drama college scholarship, but she made the mistake of mentioning that to Dain.”

“What did he do?”

Sean gritted his teeth. “He laughed in her face.”

I blinked. “Are you kidding?”

“He actually called her a fool. Told her to give it up and get real.” Sean scraped his hands through his hair in frustration. “I’ll never forget it. I found her in tears one afternoon, and she told me Dain had told her to stop with the foolish notion of college. He said her home life was so bleak, she’d never get any academic support. I guess that much was true.”

I squeezed his arm. “You supported her, Sean. And so did Amy.”

“Yeah, we did.” He shoved himself away from the wall and paced a few feet back and forth. “Dain said that besides not being smart enough, she had too much flamboyant theatrical style—I’ll never forget those words. And he said that no reputable college would want her on their campus.”

“That is incredibly harsh and unfair and wrong. And flamboyant theatrical style? What in the world was that supposed to mean?”

“I have no idea. The only time she was theatrical was when she was onstage. She always dressed conservatively. My mother would have a fit if she walked out of the house showing any skin. So I have no clue what he was talking about.”

I was fuming on Lily’s behalf. “How rude of him to say that no reputable college would want her. She could’ve gotten a drama scholarship anywhere. Or an academic one, if she wanted to.” I pounded my fist into my hand, unable to do anything to help the situation. “I would love to throttle him.”

“I’d like to do more than that,” Sean muttered. “And here’s the kicker. Dain told Lily she was better suited for work as a shopgirl.”

“A shopgirl? That was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Who uses that kind of term? It sounds like something out of a Dickens novel.” I thought about it. “Did he say what kind of shop?”

“No. It didn’t matter to him—that’s the point.”

I shook my head. “Maybe if Dain had his way, Lily and I would’ve gone into business together. We could’ve opened a beauty shop.”

Sean managed a laugh. “Because you both have hair, right?”

“Right. At least he credited Lily with some ability to run a business.”

We talked for another few minutes. Sean told me that after Lily talked to Dismal Dain, she never mentioned her goals to anyone again. Only a few other people already knew she was trying for a scholarship, including Sean, who always tried to encourage her despite his own troubles at home.

I squeezed his shoulder. “I’m going to call Eric and find out what Dismal had to say.”

Sean hesitated. “You don’t know for certain that he’s the guy they were looking for.”

“Who else could it be?”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s got to be him. I wonder how the chief found out about him being Lily’s counselor.”

“Probably from Denise.”

“He talked to Denise?”

“Yeah, he went by her house. Mr. Jones left school in a hurry to be with her.”

“Oh, man. That’s a drag.” He lifted his shoulder in a helpless shrug. “But she was Lily’s best friend, so it makes sense. I’ve talked to her a bunch of times over the years, you know, when something new came up that I thought might finally lead us to Lily. But Denise never really knew anything.”

“That’s too bad.”

“So, what’re you going to say to the chief?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I wouldn’t put it past Dismal to lie to Eric about Lily, so I want to set the record straight about what a miserable counselor he was.”

Sean grabbed my arm. “Whatever happens, Shannon, whatever you hear, I want you to tell me the truth.”

“I will, Sean.” I grabbed him in a hug. “Don’t worry. We’re on the same team here.”

“Okay.” He let go of an anxious breath. “I know. I trust you. Thanks.”

*   *   *

Instead of calling Eric on the phone, I decided it would be more effective to talk to him face-to-face. So while the guys took a lunch break, I drove over to the police station in hopes of finding him in his office. Instead, I ran into him on the sidewalk outside the glass double doors leading into the station.

“Shannon? What’re you doing here?”

I almost laughed. He didn’t look suspicious exactly, but I could tell he was wary. “Do you have a minute?”

He checked his watch. “Barely. What’s up?”

“I saw you at the high school this morning.”

There was that scowl I’d grown so fond of. “What were you doing there?”

I gave him a pleasant smile. “I had a meeting with the principal to sign some papers.”

“Papers?”

I almost laughed at his wary tone. “Yes. I bid on a school-construction job and just found out this morning that I got it.”

“Hey, great. Congratulations.”

He sounded genuinely happy for me—and very relieved, probably because it meant I wasn’t there to investigate Lily’s murder. I joined him as he walked toward the parking lot where his SUV was parked.

“Anyway,” I said briskly, “I saw you there, of course, and I noticed you walking into the counselors’ offices.”

I watched his jaw clench. “What’s your point, Shannon?”

I reminded myself that it was his job to be distrustful and tried not to take his attitude personally. “Remember how you asked me to give you some background information on the people who were around when Lily was in school?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when I saw you, it stirred a memory of someone who was a really bad guy.”

“And who was that?”

“One of the counselors. Darren Dain. Lily had him as her senior adviser.”

“How do you know that?”

“Sean told me. And I had him, too, for a brief period. He was a real creep. I was assigned to him my freshman year and he said some awful things. And I know he gave Lily some really stupid advice, too. They should’ve fired him a long time ago.”

“So, you think I should arrest him?”

My eyes widened. “Can you?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Giving bad advice doesn’t make him a killer, Shannon.”

“Neither does extinguishing kids’ hopes and dreams, but he did that, too.”

We reached his car and he pulled out his keys. “I appreciate your passing along that information.”

He reached for the door handle, but I blocked his way. “Look, my main point in coming to see you was to let you know I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Dismal lied about Lily. So if you want the truth, you should talk to me or Sean. That’s all I’m saying.”

Eric breathed in and out and seemed to relax a little. Nodding, he said, “I appreciate it, Shannon. And if it means anything, Tommy agrees with your assessment of Dain. But that still doesn’t mean I’m going to throw him in jail.”

“Oh, I forgot that Tommy was assigned to him, too.”

Eric leaned his elbow against the driver’s door. “Yeah. His advice to Tom was to open a tune-up franchise.”

“Oh, my God.” I had to laugh. I’d never had a chance to hear what Dismal had advised him to do with his life. But that was more proof that the counselor was totally off base on everything. If he’d known Tommy at all, he would’ve realized that Tommy didn’t know squat about cars. In fact, I was the one who used to change his motor oil. I gave Eric a sheepish look. “If you think that’s bad, he . . . he told me I should wear a dress more often and . . . and open a beauty shop.”

He did a double take and then his eyes narrowed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Exactly.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “You’ve convinced me. I’m going to arrest him right now.”

“Thank you,” I said, laughing weakly as he jumped into his car and started the engine. But as he pulled out of the lot, my smile faded. Darn. I really, really wish he wasn’t kidding.