Murder and Mayhem (16 page)

“All right, love?”

Nicola turned and saw the bartender coming towards
her.

“Did you find him?” he asked.

Nicola shook her head. “Are you going in there?”

“Want me to have a look?” the bartender asked as he
pushed the door open. The handle banged loudly as it hit the wall.

“Would you?” she asked.

“Six-two, blond hair, wearing black jeans and a black
T-shirt, right?”

Nicola nodded. “And a black baseball cap.”

A short time later the bartender emerged wiping his
hands on a paper towel.

“Nope. Sorry love. No one in there that fits that
description,” he said as he dropped the scrunched up paper towel into a trash
bin.

“Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time.”

“That’s okay, love. Don’t worry he’s bound to turn up
sooner or later. They always do. You mark my words. No man in his right mind
would leave an attractive woman alone in a place like this. Too many wolves on
the loose. Believe me, I’ve seen it all.”

“Why don’t you come back to the bar and I’ll find you
a seat in the corner where I can keep the wolves at bay until your boyfriend
shows up,” he offered.

“That’s very kind of you. I appreciate the offer.
Maybe I just got things wrong. I’ll head back to the Inn and wait for him
there.” Nicola gave him a rueful smile. “As you said, he’s bound to turn up
sooner or later.”

“The offer still stands if you change your mind,” the
bartender said and left Nicola standing outside the restroom feeling lost and
confused.

She hurried outside and made her way down the sidewalk
checking shops and restaurants as she passed. She was so sure it was Danny she
had seen, although from that distance she could have been mistaken. She hadn’t
seen the man’s face with the baseball cap pulled low obscuring his features.
And besides, there was no reason for Danny to be there.

As she walked back towards the river she could see the
bright vapor of the traffic lights in the distance.

* * *

He stood in the shadows, watching, and then followed
at a safe distance as she walked along the sidewalk occasionally stopping to
peer in store windows or glance in open restaurant doors, where streetlights
cast long shadows on the pavement.

When she turned and looked behind, he was able to
conceal himself in unlit doorways, or amongst the crowd of people on the
sidewalk.

He followed her down to the river and when she was
most vulnerable, he stepped up behind her.

The scream died in her throat as a large hand closed
over her mouth. She tried to struggle, but the man was too powerful.

The force of the blow knocked the wind out her lungs.
She could feel her heart pounding hard in her chest, her ears ringing as she
tried to draw breath.

He shoved her violently onto the ground, his hand on
the back of her head forcing her face into the dirt, his knees on her back
pinning her down.

The savage blow to the back of her head left her dazed
and disoriented. When he pulled her head back she stared into cold, hard eyes
devoid of emotion.

The knife sliced cleanly across her throat–and she
felt nothing more.

*****

I could feel my sister’s eyes boring holes in me. But,
hey! I’m tough. I can take!

“You’ve gone and done it again, haven’t you!” she said
with an indignant edge to her voice.

I shrugged. “What can I say? That’s show business,
kiddo.”

“Show business! What has show business got to do with
it?” she asked, obviously confused.

“Well, nothing, actually,” I flashed her a smile
hoping to put an end to this interrogation before it got started. But I was
wrong. She was like a terrier dog with a bone.

“What was Danny doing there anyway? Surely he had
nothing to do with killing that woman?”

I gave her a flippant wave of
the hand. “Read into it what you will, my little chickadee.”

“You’ve got me so confused I don’t know what to
believe anymore.”

I laughed. “It is fun though,
isn’t it? You have to admit you’re enjoying the thrill of the chase?”

“It’s only fun if I know what’s going on.” She pouted.

I dismissed her complaint with a wave of the hand.

“You claim to be able to read my mind, so go ahead my
little clairvoyant, read my mind and tell me what is lurking in the shadows.

“You know I can only read your mundane, everyday
thoughts. Murder and mayhem are not what I want to find when I go trolling
through the dark recesses of your mind. Who knows what evil could be hidden
there. All these strange men and killings are the stuff of some pretty scary
nightmares.” She shivered.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. Go on, admit it? You love
every minute of this cat and mouse game? Gets the old gray matter working,
doesn’t it?”

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” she said
with a petulant wine.

“Why don’t you discuss it with your friend, Linda and
see what she’s got to say. Now shall I continue, or do you want to debate the
matter further?”

“Oh, all right–continue–if you must.”

“Then fasten your seatbelt and hold onto your hat,
because, sister dear, you are in for one heck of a ride!”

*****

They were woken from a deep sleep
by the loud wail of sirens.

Danny staggered over to the window and watched the red
taillights of police cars disappear over the rise in the pre-dawn darkness.
When he crawled back into bed, Nicola snuggled into him, still half asleep.

“As long as they don’t stop here, we have nothing to
worry about,” he said as he pulled the covers around them.

* * *

“What’s going on?” Danny asked as he handed his credit
card to the clerk at the front desk.

The man glanced around and lowered his voice, as
though imparting a secret. “A woman’s body was found under the bridge early
this morning.”

“Oh, my God, I was down there last night. Do you know
what time it happened?” Nicola said.

The clerk shook his head. “They haven’t said. I talked
to a couple of uniformed cops on my way in to work, but they weren’t saying
much.”

“Do they know what happened?” Danny asked.

The clerk shook his head. “Someone said she had been
murdered.”

Nicola was clearly shaken, her face drained of color.

The man leaned across the counter and checked to make
sure no one was within hearing distance. “They think it was most likely a
jealous husband or lover, but won’t know anything until the victim has been
identified.”

“He’s probably right,” Danny said as he dropped the
bags in the trunk of the SUV.

“Why would someone do something like that?” Nicola
asked.

“Why does anyone kill, Nic?” Danny said as he slid
behind the wheel. “There are a million reasons and I’m sure every killer thinks
what he did was completely justified.” He handed Nicola the Rand McNally Road
Atlas opened at the appropriate page and said, “Here, you’ll need this. I think
we follow the Delaware River up past the Water Gap then we cross into New York,
somewhere up here.” He tapped the page with his finger to indicate the spot,
turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.

The SUV headed down Main Street and crossed the
intersection where the body had been found in the quiet pre-dawn hours under
the bridge by a local fisherman. Even though the body had been removed,
sightseers hung around the cordoned-off area like ghouls, and speculated on the
demise of the victim.

Nicola chewed on her bottom lip as she stared out the
window.

Danny sensed something was bothering her. “What’s the
matter, Nic? You’ve been quiet since we left New Hope.”

“I thought I saw you down at the bridge last night.”

“What are you talking about, Nic?”

“When I was down at the bridge last night I thought I
saw you walking along the street. And then suddenly, you turned around and took
off in the opposite direction.”

“The reason you couldn’t find me was because I wasn’t
there. What made you think it was me?” he asked, confused.

“The man appeared to be around your height and weight
and was dressed all in black. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black sneakers. He
was even wearing a black baseball cap like the one you wear when you visit your
Harley friends. I was so sure it was you.”

“I was miles away. Don’t you think if I had been there
I would have been with you?”

“Yes, of course you would. If I had seen the man up
close he probably wouldn’t have looked anything like you. It was the dark
clothes and cap that had me convinced. I’m so used to seeing you in your Harley
outfit, I immediately jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry, Danny.”

Danny reached across and patted her hand. “There’s
nothing to apologize for, Nic. I know light can often play tricks on your eyes,
especially at night.”

Nicola gave a light, self-conscious laugh and said,
“Imagine how that poor guy must have felt when he saw this crazy woman chasing
him down the street, screaming like a banshee.”

Danny laughed. “He probably hid in the men’s room at
the pub.”

Nicola turned her head and looked out the window. “No,
he didn’t.” She said it so softly the words left no mark on the glass.

They traveled the narrow two-lane road beside the
Pennsylvania canal, past small villages and hamlets where you only had to blink
twice and they were gone.

“This is a really nice area,” Danny said as they
passed an old stone cottage covered in brambles surrounded by fields of
wildflowers, red-leafed maples, and tall pines, with a white-painted glider on
the porch. In a meadow nearby, two young girls were riding horses beside a
silvery creek, their long hair trailing out from beneath black riding helmets,
their faces alive with good health and laughter. “I wonder what it would be
like to live around here.”

“Why? Are you planning on moving?”

“No. Well, not here anyway. I just wondered what it
would be like to live in place like this. Often things that look good on the
outside aren’t always what they seem,” he said as they passed an old red barn
in an overgrown field where birds of prey circled high in a sky devoid of
color, and a jackrabbit disappeared in the tall grass.

SIXTEEN

We were sipping tea in the
garden when I suddenly remembered something I had been meaning to tell my
sister.

“Heard from Peter lately?” I said matter-of-factly.

“Peter? Peter who?”

“You know … Peter.”

“Peter? You don’t mean who I think you mean–do you?”

I nodded. “Yes. Uncle Peter.”

Rosie almost choked on her tea. “You did say, Uncle
Peter… or was that just a misguided aberration on my part?”

“No. No. You heard right,” I said and feigned interest
in a dead leaf I picked up off the ground.

“What brought that on?”

My interest in the leaf increased. “Oh, just that I
had a call from Daisy a week or so before we left.”

Now my sister’s interest was piqued. “Daisy?” she
asked. “Peter’s third wife…? Is that the Daisy you mean?”

I grinned. “The very same.”

Rosie gave me an impatient look. “And…?” she said, her
hand beckoning for me to give it up.

I tossed the leaf aside, and shrugged
matter-of-factly, and gave her a flat look. “It appears loverboy has been at it
again.” My words needed no further embellishment; my sister knew I was
referring to our Fifty-eight-year-old uncle with a Peter Pan complex–who became
our brother.

Our paternal grandmother was forty-five when Uncle
Peter was born. Dad, the oldest of seven siblings, was twenty-five at the time.
I was two–Rosie–just a baby.

Our grandparents–Peter’s parents–were killed when
Peter was six-years old, while visiting family in Scotland. A farm tractor
rounded a bend on a narrow county lane–and collided with them, head on.