The Devil's Bones Page 17

  * * *

  When I went down the hall to my room, I heard my friends still laughing and cutting up. I was tempted to rejoin them, just to be sure they were safe. Jitty had upset me. Scout had called it. My most vulnerable spot was the people I loved. Jitty tormented me about my dying eggs, Coleman’s jumping sperm, and a host of sexual matters, but she would never scare me about the safety of the people I loved without reason.

  She’d also left me with a riddle. She said I knew the danger. But, truly, I didn’t know anyone in Lucedale who would want to hurt us. Actually, I didn’t really know anyone in town at all. Even if Erik was guilty, all he had to do was fire us. He didn’t have to shoot us. Jitty had urged me to stay alert, and that I could do.

  I left a message on Erik’s phone, letting him know I was more than a little upset with his constant disappearing act. Bitching at an answering machine was not very satisfying. When I hung up, I powered up my laptop and began the process of searching the web for information on Johnny Braun, a dancer who’d died at sea.

  It took several tries with specific wording, but at last I found an article where a man had fallen overboard from a Gulf Voyager cruise ship off the coast of Mexico. The article was brief, naming Johnny Braun as the deceased. The article quoted the captain of the ship, who said that Braun had appeared unwell at dinner. The dancer had left the table to go outside for some fresh air. When he didn’t return, his dance partner, Betsy Dell, had gone outside to check on him. There was no trace. The alarm had been sounded and the ship searched. The presumption was that he’d leaned over the rail to vomit—a trace of throw-up had been found—and that he’d accidentally lost his balance and gone over the rail.

  The Mexican authorities had investigated but had not found any signs of foul play. The ship’s captain said the incident was, sadly, an accident and charges would likely not be filed.

  When I checked deeper into the reputation of the cruise line, I saw the incident listed as an accident. There appeared to be complete transparency on the part of the cruise line. They’d dotted all i’s and crossed all t’s. The ship had been searched again at the port in Cozumel. The dancer was simply gone. All of his possessions remained untouched in his room.

  If there were any criminal charges filed against Erik or anyone else, I couldn’t find them. In the morning I’d let Leda, the local newspaper publisher, know what I’d discovered. If the paper ran the ad Betsy had left them, it would clearly be libel against Erik, and I suspected the editor wanted to avoid that.

  That put that issue to bed—for the moment. Erik needed to go to Sheriff Glory and this accusation about Braun was something he had to tell her himself, if he expected her to believe him. Glory might be able to find out more information through law enforcement channels. I could call Coleman, but I was reluctant to do so. This case had spread in a multitude of directions. And while I really wanted to hear Coleman’s voice, I didn’t want to lie to him about the shootings. A lie of omission was just as bad as an outright lie, and I hated to lie to Coleman.

  I poked around on the web a little more and found the obit for Johnny Braun. A memorial service for him was held in Mobile at a local funeral chapel. He had no family, according to the obit, but was a “beloved” entertainer. Since there was no body, there was no interment. It was just a sad conclusion to a life cut short too soon.

  Weariness touched me and I shut down the computer and crawled into bed. Tomorrow I’d find Erik—and Cosmo—and I’d take them to talk to the sheriff myself. I’d had enough of this dodgy business from both of them.

  My cell phone rang and I was a little surprised to see the call was from Sheriff Glory. I answered and she got right to the point.

  “Don’t you drive an old Mercedes Roadster?”

  I did. She’d seen it multiple times.

  “I have a puzzler for you. My deputies and some volunteers combed the woods on the west side of the river. We found an abandoned Mercedes that looks a lot like yours. It wouldn’t start so I had it towed into town. The mechanic said the alternator had gone bad.”

  It wasn’t anything Glory had said, but my stomach clenched with dread. “Who does the car belong to?”

  “It’s a rental out of Mobile. I’m going over tomorrow to check out the signature on the lease. I just find it coincidental that two antique cars looking so much alike would appear in Lucedale at the same time. I’m not a big believer in coincidences. I could handle it over the phone but something tells me to check this out in person.”

  “Sheriff, if this car was rented by the person I think it was, that’s going to explain who was shooting at me and Tinkie.”

  “You brought your own set of troubles to town, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t want to say the name of the person I suspected. I didn’t want to believe she was still alive and still trying to harm me and my friends. I could feel my heart running like a crazy locomotive.

  “So who is this mystery shooter?”

  Even though I hated conjuring her up by saying her name, I had to. “Her name is Gertrude Strom. She’s tried to kill me before.”

  23

  I got off the phone with the sheriff and took a moment to think back to my first encounter with Gertrude at her bed and breakfast, The Gardens, in Sunflower County. It was an old plantation with truly exquisite gardens. Gertrude, along with a persecution complex and unchecked homicidal tendencies, had been a terrific gardener. She could make anything grow and blossom—except sanity.

  She’d gotten it into her head that my mother had betrayed her by repeating gossip that had scalded Gertrude with shame and that began a chain of events that could only end in terrible tragedy. Gertrude blamed my mother for an action—revealing that she’d had an illegitimate child—that my mother had not done. And since my mother was dead, Gertrude had targeted me for what she viewed as her rightful revenge.

  She’d tried more than once to kill me, and she’d shot my fiancé, Graf Milieu, in the leg. That wound had almost crippled him and caused him to lose out on a movie deal he’d just negotiated. Worse than that, it had broken the bond between Graf and me in the way that only something horrible can come between two people. He didn’t blame me, but I blamed myself. He’d had to confront what it might mean to him if he lost the physical ability to walk and be the action-movie actor that he’d viewed as his future. That had shaken the foundation of who he knew himself to be.

  Gertrude Strom had done a number on both of us.

  And now she was back. She’d followed me to the bottom of the state and tried twice to kill me or Tinkie or both. She had to be stopped. Jitty had tried, in her own way, to prepare me for the news that Gertrude was hunting me again. I’d understood she was warning me of impending danger. I just hadn’t realized it was Gertrude that was on Jitty’s radar. Gertrude was more dangerous than most because she was completely insane. Her reasoning was flawed, and the conclusions she drew were ridiculous. Even if my mother had gossiped—which she had not—why would Gertrude want to kill me? I’d been twelve when my mother died. Whatever Gertrude had made up about my mother, why would she put that over onto me, a child when this supposedly took place?

  Gertrude’s misbehavior had cost her dearly, too. She’d lost everything, including her own son, who’d died of poisoning Gertrude had intended for someone else. But I couldn’t afford to feel sorry for her, because she truly meant to kill me.

  I went to alert Tinkie and Cece, but when I went down to their rooms, they were both sound asleep. Cece was heading back to Zinnia in the morning, first thing. We’d be up early and I could share this unfortunate news then, so Cece could report to Coleman. If Cece would carry the weight of telling Coleman about the two shooting incidents and Gertrude Strom’s reappearance in my life, Tinkie and I could try to close this case and get out of Dodge. Nothing would make me happier than to find myself safe in Coleman’s arms tomorrow evening.

  I just wouldn’t think about how pissed he was going to be that I hadn’t called him right after the
shots were taken at me and Tinkie.

  I tossed and turned in the bed, going over Gertrude’s influence in my life. I’d hoped she’d simply taken off for a place without extradition and had begun to build her own life. I’d been wrong.

  I finally drifted into sleep and almost levitated out of bed when there was a sharp rap on the bedroom window. I picked up one of my shoes, ready to do battle. Too bad I didn’t have a stiletto, like Tinkie. Flats weren’t nearly as deadly.

  “Sarah Booth! It’s Erik. Let me in.”

  I didn’t know if Erik viewed himself as some kind of midnight batboy or what, but I was ready to give him a good kabonk. He’d scared half a year off my life by pounding on the window. I unlatched it and let him climb into my room.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I asked, not bothering to hide my cranky nature.

  “Cosmo and I were supposed to meet up. He didn’t show. He said he could clear my name.”

  I heard the inflection—worry mingled with aggravation—in his voice. “And?”

  He shook his head. “Sarah Booth, I’m very concerned.”

  “Erik, I hate to say it, but I’m about done with you. You’re like a magician with a bad disappearing act. When you could give yourself a reasonable alibi if you just did what the sheriff asked, you don’t. Tinkie and I have risked—” I stopped myself. It wasn’t Erik’s fault that Gertrude was in George County. She would have found me wherever I was, so it was silly to blame this on him. “Someone tried to kill me and Tinkie. We were shot at twice today. Once in front of your drugstore and once in the woods beside the Escatawpa River when we went to gather evidence to try to save you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sarah Booth. Damn. Did the sheriff catch the shooter?”

  “No. And once again, you were nowhere to be found.” I let that lay out there.

  “I was on the other side of the county, looking for Cosmo.”

  “So you say. Can anyone verify that?”

  He looked aghast. “You don’t think I took a shot at you, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. In fact I think I know who did, but that doesn’t relieve you of the responsibility for looking out for yourself and your interests. Every time something bad happens, you’re off God knows where and no alibi. You need to go to work, stay there, and make sure someone the sheriff trusts is with you 24/7. Or you may no longer have that option. Sheriff Glory said she was going to put you in jail, and I don’t blame her.”

  “Who shot at you?”

  “A crazy woman. She blew out the window in your pharmacy and shot at us again in the woods when Tinkie and I were trying to help you.”

  “I do apologize. I would have come back had I known.” He held up a hand. “I know. I should have answered my phone. No wonder I had twenty calls from the drugstore.” Erik was glum. “I’m so sorry, Sarah Booth. Who was trying to kill you?”

  I gave him the condensed version of Gertrude Strom and her vendetta. “This has nothing to do with you and I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  “Except you wouldn’t have been in the woods or in front of the drugstore unless you were trying to help me.”

  “I could have been home at Dahlia House or walking out of Millie’s Café in Zinnia and she would have targeted me there. This wasn’t your fault in any way.”

  “Can Sheriff Glory catch her?”

  Coleman had been trying for months. Without success. Gertrude had evaded roadblocks and dragnets across at least eight counties. She knew the Delta backroads better than anyone I’d ever met. And she obviously knew her way around George County to set up an ambush.

  “Glory is going to try. I’m leaving it in her hands. So where is Cosmo?” I changed the subject. It only made me antsier to talk about Gertrude.

  “Someone had turned his cottage upside down. Looking for what? He disdains valuables. There’s nothing there to steal. The only thing he cares about are the wetlands and the insects that he feels he’s been sent by God to care for.”

  “He’s on videotape stealing MoBlast off a lawn-service truck. That’s the herbicide Patrice was killed with.”

  “I know.” Erik shook his head. “I know it looks bad.”

  “What was he planning to do with the herbicide?”

  “He was going to poison Dr. Reynolds’s gardens. That’s why I had MoBlast in my shed. I took it away from Cosmo and put it in the shed. I was going to put it back on the lawn-care truck, but I didn’t get a chance. Patrice was poisoned and they found it in my shed.”

  “Did Cosmo poison her?”

  “No. I don’t think he would have gone through with damaging Reynolds’s place. He gets angry and does rash things, but killing plants is just not in his nature. He certainly couldn’t kill someone, and he really had no cause to kill Patrice. Still, this doesn’t look good. Someone was looking for something at his house.”

  I had to agree with Erik. This didn’t look good. “Maybe he’s visiting a relative?”

  “As far as I know, he doesn’t have any, and the way his place was torn up … it worries me.”

  Erik was right. This case was only getting deeper. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” I had a terrible feeling that Erik had been framed yet again. If something had happened to Cosmo, and Erik was on the scene as he’d indicated, he would be the perfect fall guy.

  “I had to pick up some things.”

  I closed my eyes as a sudden weariness overtook me. “Were you wearing gloves?”

  He shook his head. “No. Why would I have gloves? I was there to help a friend.”

  His point was well taken, but common sense wouldn’t matter once Glory found his fingerprints at the site of another missing person somehow connected with the miniature Holy Land. “Why were you snooping around Snaith’s place?”

  “He’s a danger to the community. Some of that nonsense he sells as miracle cures is harmless, but I had reason to believe he was selling a very dangerous compound. I was trying to get some proof.”

  “That’s not your job.” This was certainly the pot calling the kettle black. I had a history of poking into things that weren’t my business.

  “It’s my job when I find people I have known for years getting sicker and sicker instead of better. I had to do something.”

  Once again, Erik was convincing, but this time I was not so easily swayed to his favor. “You can explain that to Glory when I take you in. And don’t even think you’re going to slip out of here.” Another thought occurred to me. “When you were over at Cosmo’s place did you stop by the gardens and see Dr. Reynolds?” Reynolds might be able to corroborate Erik’s story.

  “No, but I saw that big one-eyed dog. He was nosing around Cosmo’s place howling like he’d just escaped Sherlock Holmes on the moors.”

  “But you didn’t see Daniel Reynolds?”

  “No.”

  My observation had been that wherever Daniel went, Brutus followed. The dog was Daniel’s guardian angel. And if Brutus was on the loose and howling, maybe he was on the trail of whoever had trashed Cosmo’s place. And I wondered if that person might be Dr. Reynolds. Cosmo was certainly a thorn in his side. “There was no indication of where Cosmo might have gone?”

  “That’s why I was plundering through his stuff. I hoped I could find a clue as to where to look for him.”

  The problem with Erik was that everything he did made logical sense—and every single bit of it put him directly in the top slot as prime suspect. “And you didn’t find anything?”

  “Catalogues for ordering plants and insects. Soil samples. Worms and funguses in the refrigerator. He was obsessed with what he called the biosphere of that small part of the county. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t counted the pine needles in his domain. I’m afraid he’s in trouble.” Erik stood up quickly and then sat back down. “He never leaves home. Never. And that one-eyed dog was clawing at the garden shed door where Cosmo keeps some of his tools and supplies.”

  “Did you look there?”

  “I did, but there w
asn’t a trace of Cosmo. His old Karmann Ghia was in the garage behind his cabin. I don’t even know if it still runs. Cosmo hardly ever leaves his place unless I pick him up to take him to town for a haircut or something.”

  As I’d gotten over my frustration with Erik, I had more room for real worry about Cosmo. He didn’t strike me as a man who did a lot of running around. His world was right outside his back door. Where could he have gone?

  “Look, you’re welcome to sack out on the sofa. I need to get some rest. Tomorrow morning we’ll talk with the sheriff and then I’ll head out to look for Cosmo bright and early.”

  “Thank you.” Erik toppled over onto the sofa as if his bones had melted. “I’m exhausted.”

  “If you snore I’ll smother you with a pillow,” I warned him.

  “I don’t snore.” He chuckled. “But you do.”

  “Only when I’m trying to aggravate the other person in the room with me.” I got under the covers and rolled over, pulling the sheet over my head. It would be daybreak before long, and I needed at least a few hours of sleep.

  24

  Tinkie was up at first light, tapping at my door like a freaking raven pecking at a treasure chest.

  Tap, tap, tap. “Sarah Booth, let me in.” Tap, tap, tap. “Open the door, Sarah Booth.” Tap, tap, tap.

  “Nevermore!” I yelled at her.

  “What?” She wasn’t up on her Poe, apparently.

  “Quoth the raven, nevermore,” Erik supplied.

  “Do you have a man in your room?” Tinkie asked, hammering on the door with her tiny little fists.

  “She does,” Erik said with great delight. “And oh what a man he is!”

  “Let me in!” Tinkie pummeled the door some more.

  I got out of bed since Erik wasn’t moving from the sofa and let her in. She sailed to the bed and jumped into my spot. “Sarah Booth, could you get us some coffee?”

  She was mighty frisky and bossy after dancing all night with Hans O’Shea. But I would have my revenge for her waking me.