Trace Their Shadows (27 page)

“Probably she told him she had panicked when Eva threatened to take him away from her. Eva was a beauty, remember? Grace knew that Brookfield once had a hot romance going with Eva. Grace would’ve said Eva claimed he was still in love with her, that he was marrying Grace for her money. I’m sure she told him she lost all control at the thought of losing him and struck Eva with what was handy, the tire iron. She may even have claimed that Eva attacked her first, out of jealousy. Grace would certainly have said that she never meant to kill her.

“But what about the baby?” It was Sylvania, her voice unusually soft.

“Grace couldn’t risk telling him about the baby,” Brandy said. “If she had, she knew Brookfield would bite the bullet and turn her in. But he believed it was a terrible accident, the result of a fight between the two women. He probably felt responsible because he’d had the affair with Eva the previous year. So he loaded the body in his trunk and agreed to bury it on the Ables’ property. He could conceal it there more easily than anywhere else, especially since all those grounds had already been searched.

“The police never had any reason to check Grace’s car for evidence. No one suspected a murder. Grace had plenty of time to clean up the car and the towels and sheets she’d wrapped the body in. No one but the Stones would understand the motive, and they weren’t talking because they wanted the baby. Anyhow, they thought Eva had killed herself because of Brookfield.”

Sylvania raised her head. She was wearing her usual loose smock–dress and black oxfords, but even in those clothes she had dignity. “Miss O’Bannon’s right, I’m afraid. I admit that she’s lifted a burden I’ve carried for years.” Her long fingers gripped Blackthorne’s arm. “I do know now how it was done, but I didn’t understand until a few days ago.

“My burden was heaviest last week, when I found out about Weston Stone.” For the first time she bestowed on Brandy a fleeting smile. “I heard Brookfield out by the bougainvillea hedge the night after Eva Stone disappeared. He’d brought Grace back to the house with him.” Her voice took on an ironic edge. “He said to help his mother cope with the Stones.

“We’d searched all along the lake already, but Brookfield said he wanted to look again. He was gone so long, I thought maybe he’d found something. In about an hour, I followed him. When I got near the hedge, I heard him digging.” She looked down briefly. “I don’t know what I thought, but I was worried. I called out to him. He said he was digging all along the shore, trying to uncover some sign of the body. I believed him.”

Brandy spoke softly. “Brookfield didn’t dare hire a carpenter when he built the boat house over the grave, afraid they’d uncover the body. John spotted an amateur’s hand. I wondered then why a man of his wealth would do the job himself.”

Grimly, Sylvania nodded.

Brandy probed Sylvania’s response in the same quiet tone. “Later he must have told you something nearer the truth.”

Sylvania clasped her hands before her. “When he knew he did-n’t have long to live, he told me he was leaving me the house. He asked me to promise never to sell it to anyone to live in. When I questioned him about it, he put his hand in mine and promised on his immortal soul that he’d never hurt anyone himself nor done anything truly wrong. He said his request was for the good of the family.”

She paused. “He also made me promise that if anything ever happened to Mabel, I’d see that Grace was taken care of. I didn’t make any connection between the two requests at the time. I loved my brother and I believed him. Now I think he protected her from herself all her life. That’s why he employed Mabel.”

She folded her hands together. “I wonder now if Grace’s mental condition kept them from having children. Maybe when she didn’t get her way, she was still violent. That would explain some odd, nervous spells he said she had. Maybe he was afraid the tendency was hereditary. I know there were rumors that she was unstable.”

Brandy nodded, remembering Mack’s remark about the Able women. “And when you learned that he had a son by Eva Stone?”

“I was devastated. I thought Brookfield had abandoned his child. I remembered his digging that night. I thought he’d lied to me. He’d murdered Eva and buried her body. I thought that was why he didn’t want anyone else living there——because they might discover the body.”

“And did you tell Mr. Blackthorne about your fears?”

Sylvania twisted her big hands together and looked at the portly man beside her. “I had to confide in someone, even before I learned about Weston. I finally told him about my promise to Brookfield, and he agreed to help me. I’d wanted to move for years. That house gave me a terrible feeling all the time I lived there.” She shuddered. “I’ve never talked about it to anyone. But there was something there. Something on that fourth floor. Something on the lawn at night. I felt like a prisoner in my own house. There were places in it I didn’t dare go. When Brookfield and Grace lived there, they had the same feeling.” Her tone grew harsh. “Grace must have been especially frightened.”

Steve spoke up again. “She said Eva never left her alone.”

Sylvania sighed. “So Axel offered to buy it, tear down every plank, and the boat house, too, and build over it. He said at last I’d be free of my promise to Brookfield, and get some money out of it, too.”

Sylvania looked at the heavy face of Axel Blackthorne with a gaze both reproving and tender. “He blundered around trying to help me, trying to frighten off your investigation.

First, so John wouldn’t save the house. Then when you found the skeleton, he tried even harder. He had you followed by the security guard who worked at the new development. He just wanted to find out what you were up to and discourage you.”

Brandy tried to sit up straight, then winced and sank slowly back. Her mother, who had been unnaturally silent, frowned.

“But it must’ve been Grace who tried to do me in at the garage,” Brandy said. “She was researching something at the library the day I interviewed her at her apartment. I expect the subject was carbon monoxide poisoning. She also used a computer at her condominium.”

Morris stopped writing. “We think she cased your place Friday afternoon, while you were both at work, and left the note. The neighbor heard a car. A clever plan. It might have worked, except for your dog.”

Meg should be here, Brandy thought. Meg and someone else.

Blackthorne avoided Brandy’s eyes. “Today I was on my way to see Grace myself when I spotted you,” he said. “By then Syl and I both believed Brookfield had killed Eva. I thought Grace must know the truth, and you were going to worm it out of her. I wanted to convince her not to talk to you——or else convince you to give up the investigation. By then, I was desperate. It would break Syl’s heart if the whole town learned Brookfield had murdered that girl.” He dropped his head. “I called a friend from the guard shack and got in just in time to call the ambulance.” Sylvania smiled again. “The first thing he did right, I’m afraid.” She patted him on the arm. “But he did it all for me, mistaken though we both were. And that’s the end of it.”

A deep voice spoke from the rear. “So my father didn’t murder my mother, after all.” Weston Stone had appeared in the doorway and signaled to Steve. Steve must’ve called him, Brandy realized. He had more right to know the whole story than anyone else.

“The worst your father did was try to protect the girl he was engaged to,” Brandy said. “Lots of men protect the women they love.” Even women they don’t, she thought sadly, remembering John. “Your father never knew you existed.”

Ace Langdon cleared his throat. “I can confirm some details. When Miss O’Bannon didn’t show up at the cocktail hour today, I phoned the Beacon office. Mr. Tyler told me what had happened, and I thought, ‘No problem. I’ll just go over to the hospital to see her.’ I’d remembered something that might clear me. I called the Sheriff’s Office, too.” He paused and ran well–manicured fingers through his gray mane. “After I put the tire iron behind the front seat, I saw Eva walking toward Grace’s car. That’s the last time I saw her. That’s why I didn’t talk to her, and why I went back to the house and played billiards instead.” When his eyes caught Sylvania’s gaze, he looked away.

“That puts the two of them together at the crucial moment,” Brandy said.

“I ought to get a medal for living in that house at all,” Ace muttered. “I dare anyone else to stay very long in my room on the third floor, let alone on the fourth. I bolted my door, I can tell you that.”

Morris ignored Ace’s last complaint and turned to Brandy. “Why did you make appointments this afternoon with Mr. Langdon and Mr. Blackthorne? And why did you wind up at Grace’s getting your head bashed?”

She lifted her chin and winced again. “I meant to tape Grace’s reaction to my costume and to what I said. I was going to share the recording with everyone involved——including Detective Morris.

“After I got to know Grace a little, I decided she tended to be paranoid. She was suspicious and watchful. I noticed it at the flower show, the condominium, and the funeral. She thought people picked on her. A psychologist told me that people like Grace can function perfectly well most of the time, but they have unstable spells. That explained the frequent trips with Mabel to Canada. And the fact that Brookfield had hired Mabel for so many years as Grace’s companion. The psychologist also told me that paranoid patients can mistake someone in the present for a supposed enemy in their past.”

Steve spoke up again. “Therefore the dress.”

“If I was going to force a confession, I had to trigger that paranoia. Grace was already beginning to see me as her persecutor. Perhaps I could become Eva Stone and meet Grace in a place like the one where she last saw Eva. The lake shore was perfect. I wanted to phrase every word carefully, so she could associate it with Eva Stone as well as with me. I told her I had bad news about Brookfield. I imagine Eva said about the same thing.

“I liked the irony of disguising myself as Eva. Grace had pretended to be Eva, too. I thought Grace would give herself away when she saw me, and I’d get her on tape.”

She grinned and motioned to her bandages. “But I didn’t intend to sit in a car with her, like Eva did. When it began to rain, I had-n’t much choice. My memory of what happened next is still awfully dim. I didn’t expect her to have a hammer in that wretched knitting bag.” She looked back at Steve. “I hope your equipment wasn’t smashed.”

“It’s okay, but we didn’t need the recording. I heard Grace say you were Eva and so did John and Mr. Blackthorne, and even the guard at the gate. He came running over when he saw there was trouble. She kept babbling about how she’d finally finished the job. Said Eva wouldn’t be bothering her anymore. I expect she meant to throw that big raincoat over your body and drive out the way she did before.”

There was a movement by the door, and suddenly the room grew more crowded. Ace looked up, murmured, “No problem” in an irritated tone and moved aside. Brandy looked up eagerly, but the tall figure muscling his way across the room was not John.

“What kinda job you got, kid? Like they say in sports, you’re snakebit. Ever time I see you, you’re in the damn hospital. We got to talk.”

Brandy gave him a feeble wave. Coping with a psycho was hard enough. Now she had to cope with Mack.

TWENTY–SIX
 

Brandy reached for Mack’s hand. “Wait until we can talk privately,” she said.

Mrs. O’Bannon rose to give Mack her chair and turned on Brandy her severe look. “I’d better get home and feed Meg. You rest now, hear? The doctor says you’ll be in the hospital about twenty–four hours. I’ll be back in the morning.” At least the garage escapade had earned Meg her mother’s affection. His father’s lucrative car agency made her feel the same about Mack.

All but Detective Morris took the cue. Weston left, quietly talking to his newly discovered aunt. Brandy heard him say he would meet John and Mr. Greene at the Lake Dora house tomorrow afternoon. Sylvania agreed to be there. Brandy wished she could join them. Ace paused in the doorway, winked, and gave her his dimpled smile, while Mr. Tyler stretched and put his note pad back in his breast pocket.

“Tonight’s the deadline for my story,” Brandy said to him in a voice grown hoarse. “I’ve got the lead in my head. I hope it’s not too late for this week’s edition.”

Tyler lifted out the pad again. “Shoot.” Brandy dictated slowly with only a few pauses. “A murder of forty–five years ago was re–enacted by the killer at the Lakeview condominiums on Lake Harris Monday afternoon. Grace Southerland Able’s attack on Beacon reporter Brandy O’Bannon brought to a successful close the investigation into the murder of Eva Stone, daughter of Anne and the late Richard Stone of Tavares. Miss Stone’s skeleton was found recently on the Lake Dora property of Mrs. Able’s deceased husband.

“O’Bannon’s costume, which duplicated the dress and jewelry the victim wore the night of the killing, apparently triggered a latent paranoia in the murderer, according to a prominent Gainesville psychologist. Before witnesses Mrs. Able struck the reporter with a hammer in the same way that she is alleged to have struck Miss Stone with a tire iron. Sheriff’s authorities confirmed that Grace Able later confessed to the earlier crime.”

“My final notes,” she added, “are on my desk at the Beacon.”

Brandy stopped and took a deep breath. The painkiller was beginning to wear off. “I guess you’ll have to finish the story yourself. My original notes are in a notebook in my bedroom at home. The first draft with the history of the house is on the office laptop and the photos beside it.”

She had made her deadline, but John had not. He still had no buyer for Sylvania’s house.

Mr. Tyler thrust the note pad and pen into his pocket again. “The Beacon’s going to press,” he said, grinning, and strode out the door.

“An editor right out of Front Page,” Brandy said fondly, then shifted her attention to the detective. “Our paper’s distributed Wednesday morning. I hope the Sheriff’s Office won’t release all the details until then. That would give Mr. Tyler a day to print. It’d be nice if he could scoop the big dailies just once.”