This Old Homicide (8 page)

“Right. You’ll get lost in the woods and trip over a rock and sprain your ankle.”

“Exactly.” Wasn’t that what always happened? And then the girl would either die of exposure or be killed by a diabolical ax murderer. Luckily that was all in my head and not something I said out loud.

“Okay,” he said, acknowledging my point. “But you stay behind me. Got it?”

“All right.” I had no problem agreeing to that. “Here’s the key.”

He led the way up to the porch and over to the front door. “Hold on to my belt so I know you’re back there,” he said, and quietly inserted the key in the lock.

Mac opened the door silently and pulled me inside. He closed the door behind me and we stopped and waited in the foyer, listening to every sound. The creaks and groans of the old house seemed to be magnified at this hour of the night.

He leaned close to whisper in my ear, “We’ll start with Jesse’s room.”

“It’s this way,” I said, nudging him toward the hall. And that was when I noticed that Mac was carrying a gun. My knees began to shake. Not that I hadn’t ever seen a gun before. Of course I had. I’d even gone to the firing range a few times, but that was for fun. This was deadly serious. Someone could get killed.

After a few steadying breaths, I figured Mac knew what he was doing. After all, he’d been a Navy SEAL just like his protagonist, and he wrote about crime all the time.

He walked down the hall to the master bedroom at the end. I walked close behind him, praying we didn’t run into anyone he thought he should shoot.

We searched the entire house, including the basement, but didn’t find anyone.

“They must’ve heard me scream and escaped out the back door,” I whispered, disgusted with myself.

“Yeah, maybe.”

We checked the back door and found it unlocked.

“I can’t believe the police forgot to lock up the place.”

“They didn’t,” he said. “Whoever it was, they left through this door in a hurry.”

He walked outside onto the back porch and then jogged down the steps and carefully searched the perimeter of the lawn. His attitude was casual, but I could tell he was checking every inch of grass, looking for a clue that might lead to the identity of the culprit. It was helpful to have the full moon shining down on things.

“I’ll talk to Eric tomorrow,” he said. “He’s going to want to check out this whole area. The soil at the edge of the lawn may be damp enough to provide some footprints.”

He took one last glance around, and then we locked up Jesse’s house and returned to my place. Robbie yipped from behind the closed bedroom door, so I let him out and shushed him so he wouldn’t wake up Jane. Back downstairs, with his tail end wiggling madly, he greeted Mac. Tiger followed lazily, yawning when she finally settled at Mac’s feet.

“Your animals are so unfriendly,” he said, making me laugh. We discussed the fact that we were both too wired to sleep right away, so I invited him to stay for a cup of hot chocolate.

We chatted about nothing in particular while I heated the cocoa and he sprawled in a chair at the kitchen table. Tiger was now curled up on his lap while Robbie was in thrall at his feet. Lucky pets, I thought to myself, feeling a little ridiculous for being jealous of my animals.

Once I’d divided the cocoa into two cups, I placed a small bowl of miniature marshmallows on the table and joined him. “I’m sorry I screamed out there.”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said.

“You did, but it’s not your fault. I just know the intruder heard me and got away.”

“He’ll be back,” he said easily.

“I didn’t realize you had a gun.”

“Is that a problem?”

I thought about it. “It was a surprise—that’s for sure. I guess it made sense to have one with us, but I’m not a big fan.”

“I’m not, either, but it seems foolish to walk into a dark house in search of an unwanted visitor without carrying some protection.”

“You’re right. I didn’t think about protecting myself. I just went running over there. By the time I realized I might be confronting a killer, I was already in front of Jesse’s house.”

“You were very brave.”

I heard what he wasn’t saying. “But stupid, I know. Thank you for not adding that.”

His lips twisted into a wry smile. “You’re welcome.”

I laughed. “Okay, it was idiotic, but the thought of catching the guy who might be responsible for Jesse’s death was too compelling. Like I said, I didn’t think. Next time I’ll bring a baseball bat.” On that satisfying thought, I savored a sip of cocoa.

“If there is a next time,” Mac said, “promise me you won’t go by yourself. Call me or call the police. Or both.”

“I promise. And I’m pretty sure there will be a next time. There’s something inside that house that somebody wants really badly. At first I thought it was Jesse doing the searching, but now I know there’s someone else.”

“And that’s why you think he was killed.”

“Yes, don’t you? I mean, it’s obvious to me. Now I just have to convince the police.”

Mac didn’t respond. He sat back in his chair and stirred the chocolate with his spoon. He added a few more marshmallows and stirred some more.

“Did you spend much time with Jesse?” I asked.

He glanced up at me. “Yeah, I got to know him pretty well in the last few months. We were both in the navy, both had SEAL training. We bonded pretty quickly.”

“He must’ve loved having you around to talk to.”

“Yeah, it was great for me, too. The military’s a strange world and not everyone can relate.”

“I get that.”

Mac frowned. “Something was bothering him lately. I don’t know what it was, but I had a feeling he would’ve told me eventually. Now I’ll never know.”

Little shivers of alarm streaked down my spine. Had Jesse known he was in danger?

Mac said, “One thing he really wanted to do was go diving out in the bay again. You’ve got a shipwreck out there that he wanted to see one more time.”

“The
Glorious Maiden
,” I said.

“We made plans, and I would have loved to take him, but it didn’t work out.”

“He went out there a few years ago with a couple of his navy friends.”

“Yeah, he told me. Bob and Ned. I’ve met them.”

“They’re sweet old guys.” I sipped my cocoa. “Did Jesse say why he wanted to go scuba diving again?”

He gazed at me. “Have you ever done it?”

“No?”

He chuckled softly. “I didn’t think so. Otherwise you wouldn’t ask. There’s nothing like being down there. It’s a whole different world.”

“I guess that’s another thing you two bonded over.”

“You could say that. He liked going on adventures. He told me about the last time he got together with his buddies. They went exploring around that old naval shipyard. Just sneaking around, really.”

“Is that the place they call the graveyard about twenty miles down the coast?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Most of the boats are mothballed and in dry dock. The guys were just goofing around, checking out some of the old tubs and daring each other to climb on board.”

I frowned. “Did they find anything interesting?”

“They came across some old weapons and explosives.” He shook his head.

“You realize these guys are close to eighty years old, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re still kids at heart. I think it’s great.”

“But… explosives? Ordnance?”

“They didn’t do anything stupid. They went directly to the commander in charge of the yard and reported what they found. The guy gave them a reward.”

“He gave them money?”

“No, he bought them all beers at a local dive bar.”

I smiled. “That’s way better than money.”

“Absolutely.”

But just thinking about Jesse and his pals rooting around an old, rusty ship that had unspent bombs stashed on board gave me the chills. “They could’ve been hurt.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mac allowed, “but they got out of there without incident and they did a good deed by reporting it.”

“I just hope Jesse didn’t bring anything home,” I grumbled, then winced, knowing I sounded like somebody’s mother. But good grief, those old codgers could’ve gotten themselves into a lot of trouble.

Mac’s eyes twinkled, so I figured he was trying not to laugh at me. “You mean, like some kind of trophy?”

“Exactly. I can just see him bringing home a trophy bomb.” And wouldn’t that be special? I thought. Living next door to a live bomb.
Oh, Jesse.

“Don’t worry,” Mac said. “He would never have brought back anything dangerous.”

“You promise?”

He thought for a minute. “I’m almost certain.”

I shook my head. “Men are weird.”

“You got that right,” he said with a grin. “And on that note, I’d better get going and let you go back to sleep. I’ll call Eric first thing in the morning to have him check out Jesse’s backyard.”

“He should probably check inside the house again, too,” I said.

“Right.” After a surprisingly chaste kiss on the cheek, Mac murmured, “Sweet dreams, Irish.”

*   *   *

Eric paced the room, wearing a scowl on his face so intense I thought it might become permanent. I was seated in a side chair in my living room, feeling at a distinct disadvantage since he towered over me even when I was standing.

He had been at Jesse’s house earlier that morning with a team of investigators, searching for possible clues and evidence of the break-in the night before.

“I want to know,” he said, “if you experienced even the smallest inkling of doubt before you ran over to Jesse’s house in the middle of the night without first calling me.”

I started to speak, but he held up his hand to stop me.

“You ran over to Jesse’s house,” he reiterated, “where, I might remind you, the man died recently. A man you seem to think was murdered. And you still gave no thought to making a quick call to the police because that might be the smart thing to do.”

“I—”

He stopped me again.

“Okay, go ahead,” he said two seconds later. He wore a determined grin and I thought he might be kind of proud of himself for keeping me from talking again. I had to give him that.

I took a deep breath and said, “I realize it was a dumb thing to do. I was halfway up Jesse’s driveway when I turned around to go home and call the police.”

“That’s so weird,” he said, thinking back. “I didn’t get a call.”

“I know, because right at that moment was when Mac showed up.”

“Oh, Mac showed up.” Eric pressed his hands together in a sign of conciliation. “In that case, everything’s okay. Sorry I yelled at you.”

“Really?”

“No,” he bellowed. “Don’t go into that house again without first calling the police. That’s an order.”

*   *   *

Two hours later, I was still smarting from Eric’s lecture. I felt stupid and small and a little bit misunderstood, so I decided to work in the garden for a while. That always calmed me down and soothed my spirit. I called Wade to tell him I’d be available by phone and justified my staying home by pledging to work on payroll over the weekend. Besides, I’d stayed up way past my bedtime last night, so I wouldn’t be of much use at any of the jobsites anyway. I wasn’t too proud to admit to him that I’d screwed up. Wade told me to lighten up and go pull some weeds. Sound advice, I thought.

After two hours, I had cleaned and weeded all the beds, throwing out wilted leaves and spindly vines and fallen fruit. My last task was to tidy up my pumpkin patch, which, for some unnatural reason, was still producing fruit. My father claimed I grew happy pumpkins and I had to agree.

As I raked out the bed and checked for any blossoms, I found a small spot of powdery mildew on one of the leaves. I knew it would spread fast if I didn’t nip it, so once I’d removed all the old plant debris, I dusted what was left with an organic sulfur product I liked. I hoped it would do the trick because I had big plans to spawn another winner for the Harvest Festival later that year.

I heard footsteps and looked up to find Mac coming down the garage stairs.

“You look wrapped up in your work,” he said.

“I got yelled at, so I thought I’d take refuge here for a while.”

“Eric?”

“Yeah. He was right. I was wrong. I’ll get over it.”

“Sure you will. He gave me an earful, too.”

I smiled. “That’s something, I guess.”

Eric probably hadn’t yelled as loudly at Mac, I thought. Still, I knew I was wrong, so I wasn’t going to hold it against the chief of police. Or Mac.

“What’re you up to?” I asked.

“I was going to drive up to the lighthouse. Want to come?”

“I’d love to,” I said, then glanced down at my grubby gardening duds. “But I’ll have to change. You might want to go without me.”

“I’d rather go with you,” he said. “I can wait.”

“Give me twenty minutes.”

*   *   *

Mac had moved to Lighthouse Cove and bought the mansion last fall. I’d heard about his purchase but I hadn’t met him yet when I rode my bike up to take a look at the exterior in hopes of bidding on the rehab job. We’d met that day under strange circumstances having nothing to do with his home purchase. Since then, Mac had officially hired me to renovate the mansion, but because of some conflicts in his schedule—deadlines, book tours, film premieres, meetings with his publishers in New York City—we hadn’t done an official walkthrough of the place yet, never mind starting the job. And now Jesse’s death had pushed the start date even further out.

Mac parked his car a dozen yards away. I grabbed the blueprints and we walked over to the house. Approached from this angle, the stalwart lighthouse seemed to jut right out of the middle of the roof. In reality, it was separated from the house by thirty feet or so.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” Mac said, gazing around. “I can’t believe the town was willing to sell this place.”

“We were only willing to sell it to the right buyer,” I said. “You were the one.”

He bent his head to gaze at me. “Why?”

“Because you love it. Because you won’t change it. Because you’ll take good care of it.”

“How do you know? I might want to paint it purple and turn it into a den of iniquity.”

I laughed. “Purple is so very much your color.”