Crowned and Moldering (12 page)

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.

I spent the rest of the day scraping wallpaper off the living room walls at Emily’s
house. It was the best kind of job to do whenever I wanted to forget everything. Like
the fact that Dismal Dain would not be spending the rest of his life in jail. I just
couldn’t get Eric to take the evil man seriously.

While wallpaper removal was the perfect job to zone out on, it was also the worst
task of all when it came to rehabbing a house. This was especially true of Victorian
homes, which were built in an era when wallpaper was worshiped and often applied to
walls in every room in the house—and occasionally on the ceilings, as well.

Back in the day, when it came time to redecorate a room, instead of scraping off the
old wallpaper, an owner would simply cover over the existing wallpaper with a new
pattern. It was just easier. So 150-some years later, when I’d come along to renovate
a place, there might be as many as six layers of wallpaper to remove. But even if
there was only one layer and it came off easily, the glue residue would often remain
on the wall in sticky, streaky, gooey brown globs. That was when we’d start pulling
out our hair in frustration.

There were a number of different methods for removing wallpaper. Some people believed
in good old vinegar and water. Some might add a portion of fabric softener to the
mix. Some swore by scrapers or sponges. Any or all of these might work for a small
job.

Douglas had grown up working construction jobs with his father, and his preferred
method of removal was to use an industrial-strength garden sprayer that he filled
with equal parts hot water and fabric softener. He’d spray a wide section of the wall
with the liquid, wait about five minutes, and then start scraping. Often a sheet would
peel off in one large swath. Once the wall was dry, he would go back and scrape off
the glue.

The trick with spraying all that water was to not allow the liquid to sit too long
before removing the wallpaper. Victorian walls were constructed of lath and plaster,
and if that much moisture seeped into the wall and sat there for too long, it would
damage the plaster.

For big jobs, I’d found the steamer method worked best. My father had invested in
a heavy steamer that rolled and swiveled around on casters and had a large stainless-steel
plate that was lightweight and easy to use, even for an eight-year-old. The heating
element and the hot water were contained inside a fully insulated tank, so Dad never
had to worry that I might accidentally burn myself.

One secret I’d learned early on was to start steaming at the bottom of the wall and
work my way up. This was because as you steamed the wallpaper, water would drip down
the walls and onto the floor. If you started at the top, you’d wind up kneeling in
mushy, gluey paper when you reached the bottom of the wall. It also helped to stuff
old towels along the floor edges.

Once you were finished, it was smart to apply a primer before painting the wall; even
if you couldn’t see it, there always seemed to be some residual glue left on the wall,
and the primer helped conceal it.

Because of the mind-numbing nature of wallpaper removal, my guys and I always took
turns so that no one got stuck doing the entire job him – or herself. We were each
assigned a separate room on a separate day, and that way we shared the pain. I was
all about equal opportunity on every level.

When Emily arrived home at six o’clock, I was still working. The guys had all gone
home, but I was there, all alone, completely wrapped up in the job.

“Shannon?”

“What?” I flinched a little, which told me how zoned out I’d been. And since zoning
out had been my purpose all along, I figured I’d succeeded. “Hey, Emily.”

“You’re still working?”

I stared at the wall and the progress I’d made, then back at her. “I guess I am. But
I’ll clean up and get out of your way.” I climbed down the ladder, picking curly pieces
of wallpaper slivers off my shirt and tossing them into the large trash bag nearby.

She gazed around the room. “You’ve gotten so much done.”

“Yeah, I just decided to go for it.”

With a smile, she said, “You look tired.”

“What every girl wants to hear,” I said, and laughed. “But, yeah, I really am tired.
And annoyed. Mostly annoyed.”

She set her purse and a small grocery bag that held a pretty bouquet of flowers on
the utility table we’d set up near the foyer archway. “Who or what has annoyed you?”

I waved the question away. “You don’t know him and it’s not worth talking about.”

“Of course it is. Come and have a glass of wine with me.”

I hesitated, then said, “Well, I can hardly refuse an offer of wine.”

She walked into the butler’s pantry. “Oh, the boys pulled out the sink.”

I unplugged the steamer and began to clean up the crimped and twisted bits of old
wallpaper. “You can still use the main one, right?”

“Oh yes. It’s not a problem. They’re just moving ahead so quickly.”

“I wish it was quicker, for your sake.”

Emily Rose, despite being ten years older than me, was one of my dearest friends and
a member of my inner circle. There were five of us who met regularly to console each
other and laugh and plan and scheme. Emily had moved to town from Scotland years ago
with her fisherman boyfriend, who was later lost in a tragic accident at sea.

Her new tea shop, along with many of her new friends in town, had sustained her through
the hardest days. Emily had lived in the apartment over the shop until recently, when,
out of the blue, she decided to buy this old house. Now I couldn’t wait to complete
the job and have her finally feel settled.

I joined her in the big unfinished kitchen as she pulled a bottle of chardonnay from
an old, temporary refrigerator and poured two glasses. We sat at the small café table
she’d moved into the kitchen.

She handed me a glass. “Now take a sip or two and then tell me why you’re annoyed.”

I must’ve been ready to talk, because once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. I told
her all about finding Lily’s bones and how the discovery affected Sean. I gave her
a brief history of my high school years and how kind Lily had been to me. I told her—ranted,
really—about Dismal Dain and his historically imbecilic advice to students. I gave
a quickie recap of my Career Day successes and my delight in having been chosen to
construct the new high school parking lot. By my second glass of wine, I was compelled
to mention Whitney’s idiocy, on general principle. By that point Emily was laughing,
and I suppose I was, too. Even though there was very little that was funny about the
events of the past few days.

My light mood faded quickly and I sighed. “It was so frustrating for Sean to realize
that poor Lily never left town. She was lying dead and alone in the lighthouse mansion
all this time. It’s sad and creepy.”

“I’m so sorry for Sean,” Emily said.

“Me, too. He’s spent so many years searching for his sister and waiting for her to
return. He was simply shattered by the news.”

Emily took a sip of wine, then asked in a gentle tone, “But don’t you think, Shannon,
in a way, it must be a relief for him to finally know the truth?”

It was hard to admit she was right. “I suppose so. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop bugging
Eric to find the killer.”

“Is it possible that she wasn’t murdered?” she asked cautiously. “Perhaps it was an
accident.”

“It’s conceivable, but how did she get inside the dumbwaiter?”

Emily thought for a moment. “Was she hiding from someone?”

“Maybe. But where did her clothes disappear to? And what about that awful mattress?
Was she living there? Escaping from her parents for a while? Was she with someone?”

“There are too many questions,” Emily admitted.

“And not enough answers, as usual.”

“At least Eric is asking your advice this time. That must feel good.”

“It does,” I said, feeling a glow that probably had more to do with the wine than
with Eric’s approval. “Although it’s sad that he wouldn’t arrest Dismal Dain when
I suggested it. So I guess that means he won’t be hiring me as an expert consultant
anytime soon.”

Emily chuckled. “Dismal Dain sounds like a dreadful person.”

“He is that.”

Emily got up and poured glasses of water for us both, and we changed the subject to
other things, namely Mrs. Rawley’s ghost, who was relatively quiet these days.

“Unless Augustus stops by,” Emily said. “Then she starts swinging on the chandeliers.”

Augustus Peratti, or Gus, as I called him, since I’d known him forever, owned the
best auto shop in town. He was a gorgeous, sexy Italian who’d been attracting women
like bees to honey since the first grade. A few weeks ago, Gus had stopped by to see
Emily, and Mrs. Rawley’s ghost went crazy. The chandelier began to swing and lights
flashed on and off all over the house. Gus even lost consciousness for a few seconds,
but quickly recovered. Several of us witnessed it with our own eyes and had no explanation
for the phenomenon until Mrs. Rawley’s diary was recovered shortly afterward. In it,
she confessed that she had been in love with Gus’s great-grandfather all those years
ago, but her parents had forbidden her to marry him. She must’ve recognized him in
Gus, because she went a little crazy when Gus walked into the house. Since then, she’d
been as calm as could be.

The really odd aspect of the story was that Gus was supposed to bring Emily’s car
to her tea shop that day, not to Emily’s new house. But somehow he’d been compelled
to show up at the new place instead. Had the ghost actually conveyed that message
to him clairvoyantly? We would never know.

“So the chandeliers still swing when he comes here?” I chuckled. “I shouldn’t be surprised.
Gus has had that effect on women his whole life.”

Emily laughed and slapped my arm. “Very funny. Seriously, though, I think it’s so
nice of Augustus to come by to visit Mrs. Rawley.”

“Are you sure he’s not coming by to visit you?”

“Oh no,” she protested. “He’s just being nice, and I couldn’t be happier. He really
does seem to have a calming effect on her.”

“Calming, really? The woman is making the chandeliers swing.”

She bit back a smile. “To tell the truth, they only sway a bit.”

*   *   *

I wasn’t ready to drive home yet, so I walked around the house with Emily while she
pointed out other areas she’d like to have fixed whenever I had the time to fit her
into my schedule. We made a plan to get together with the girls sometime in the next
week, and an hour later, I was ready to drive the eight long blocks to my home.

As I carefully pulled the truck into the driveway, I was pleased to see Mac standing
there.

“Are you on your way out?” I asked after climbing out of the truck.

“No, I just got home and saw your headlights coming, so I thought I’d wait for you.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and it felt so warm and so right, I almost froze
in fear. I couldn’t get attached to Mac—I just couldn’t. The man was a bachelor millionaire
who dated supermodels and celebrities. But could I fling his arm off my shoulder?
No. Actually, I snuggled even closer to him as we walked through the gate into the
backyard. My only excuse was that the wind had picked up and it was too darn cold
to bear it alone.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

“Sure,” I said casually, then reconsidered. “Well actually, it’s been weird, with
the mansion closed until further notice and Sean dealing with his sister’s death and
Eric showing up at school to talk to Lily’s horrible high school counselor.”

“Whoa,” he said. “That’s a lot of stuff going on. And I want to hear every last detail,
but I can tell you’ve had a long day. Would you like to have dinner sometime this
weekend?”

“I’d love to,” I said, shoving all thoughts of blond supermodels to the far regions
of my brain.

“Good.” He walked me to my kitchen door and waited until I unlocked it, then kissed
me on the cheek. “Sweet dreams, Irish.”

*   *   *

First thing Friday morning, Ms. Barney called again. “The head engineer from the solar
company wants to meet you this afternoon at two o’clock. Are you available?”

“I’ll be there. Your office?”

“Let’s meet out at the parking lot. That way you don’t have to walk back and forth
across campus.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“Just one more thing, Shannon.” She hesitated, then said, “It’s about one of the other
bidders for the job.”

I didn’t like the tone of her voice. “Is there a problem?”

“Sort of. When I told him we were going to go with your company, he didn’t take the
news well. He told me I’d be sorry, and to watch out for you because you liked to
cut corners.”

“What?” I stared at the phone. “Are you kidding? I’ve never cut corners in my life.”

“I know that, dear, and I wish I were kidding, but I’m not. He also said . . . Well,
it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh yes, it does. What else did he say?”

She hesitated, then added, “He said you were lazy and probably wouldn’t finish the
job.”

“Oh my God.” My stomach began to churn, and I had a feeling I knew where all of this
was coming from.

“I know it was just sour grapes,” Ms. Barney said, “because you’re the best worker
I’ve ever dealt with. I just wanted to warn you that you seem to have an enemy out
there.”

“Can you tell me who it is?” But I already knew. “Never mind. It was Cliff Hogarth,
wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said, surprised that I would know. “He was very unpleasant. I got the feeling
from the way he talked that you two had had some other run-ins.”

I paced back and forth across the kitchen, unable to sit still after hearing Ms. Barney’s
revelation. “We have, I’m sorry to say. He’s tried to poach some of my crew members
and bad-mouthed me to a few of my clients.”

She considered my words for a moment. “Didn’t you go to school with him?”