Dead Letter (12 page)

“My dad also believes that no murderer ever left the scene of the crime without leaving some physical evidence behind him. If it's there, my dad'll find it. Didn't you see the expression on his face?”

“He didn't have any expression.”

“That's the whole point. Meat, that's when my dad's really dangerous. His face gets like a mask. It's almost scary. It got like that when he found out I'd been shut up with the Doberman, and I knew then that he'd nail those two men somehow.

“If nothing else, he can get them on what they did to me—aggravated assault and intent to commit bodily harm. But that's not good enough. I want him to get them for murdering Amanda Cole. I promised.”

“You couldn't really promise. She's dead.”

“A promise to a dead person is more binding than any other. Oh, and I have to tell you about my mom. She made me start from the beginning. I told about finding the note and the key, and she exploded. ‘Not another key! Haven't you learned your lesson about keys? You find a key, you find a body. First it was Dead Oaks. Then Madame Rosa ...' There's no reasoning with her when she gets like this. I said, ‘Mom, the key is useless. The lock is gone.' But I had to go upstairs, get the key, come back, and—”

There was a beep and Herculeah said quickly, “Oh, someone's trying to call. It's probably my dad. I'll call you back.”

Meat hung up the phone. He continued to sit there. He looked at his watch. Time moved so slowly when he was waiting for a call from Herculeah, and then when the call came, it would be over in a minute.

The house was too quiet. Even when nothing was happening at Herculeah‘s, her house didn't feel this quiet.

He looked at his watch again. He would have thought it had stopped if the second hand hadn't been moving.

When the phone rang, finally, Meat picked it up on the first ring.

Herculeah said, “My dad got them. I knew he would. He got them!”

“He's arrested them?”

“Yes!”

“Both of them?”

“Yes, and guess what the evidence is?”

“I can't.”

“Remember the last two words of Amanda Cole's note?”

“No.”

“‘Look inside.' Remember, I kept wondering what that could mean? Then, when I went in the house, that's what was so distressing—there was nothing left that anything could be inside of.”

“Yes.”

“Well, there was something left. And there were more sheets from the address book inside. Guess where?”

“Give me a clue.”

“They were inside the mattress of that old cot in the stable. When I tore the bed apart, trying to get a weapon or tool of some kind, the mattress fell on the floor and the pages all came tumbling out.

“I didn't see them because it was dark, but my dad did. He says it's all there—all the proof he needs.”

Meat was still going over it in his mind when Herculeah said, “Well, I've got to go.”

“Already? We just got started.”

“My father is coming over to give me one of his lectures.”

Meat wished his father would come over, even for a lecture.

“But let me just say one more thing,” Meat added, not wanting the conversation to end.

“Sure.”

“When I was at the dentist's office, I had a premonition about stables. Remember, one of Hercules' labors was cleaning the Augean stables.”

“I know.”

“But now I'm wondering if, instead, it could be the watchdog! Another of Hercules' labors was bringing Cerberus, the watchdog, from hell.”

“That does describe the Doberman.”

“I agree.”

“Hey, maybe I did two labors in one—double duty,” Herculeah said, grinning to herself. “Even Hercules didn't do two at the same time.”

“Maybe. Anyway, you've still got a long way to go.” He paused. “And you don't have any premonitions?”

“About the next one?”

“Yes.”

“If I tell you, you'll tease me.”

“No, no, I won't. I never tease people because I know how bad it feels to be teased. Have I ever teased you?”

“No.”

“So tell me.”

“Oh, all right. A bull.” There was silence, then Herculeah went on quickly. “I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I'm still hung up on stables, that I couldn't possibly be threatened by a bull, that I‘m—”

“No, that is not what I'm thinking,” Meat said, interrupting. “I'm thinking the Cretan bull.”

“What?”

“Capturing the Cretan bull—that was one of Hercules' labors.”

“Well, I don't know what a Cretan bull is, and I can't explain why I know this, but, well, this is a different kind of bull. But just as—”

She broke off.

“Just as what?”

“Deadly,” Herculeah said.

There was another pause while Herculeah's hair started to rise and Meat's fears did, too. Herculeah forced herself to laugh. “Anyway, can a bull be any more dangerous than a Doberman?”

“We'll probably find out.”

“Good night, Meat.”

“Good night, Herculeah.”

Don't miss her next terrifying adventure,

 

 

 

 

Herculeah Jones finds herself in the middle of yet another mystery when her best friend, Meat, barely escapes a hit man's bullet. Whoever had Meat marked for a hit must have mistaken him for someone else. But who? Herculeah is determined to find out. Yet just as she begins to piece together the clues, she's kidnapped and taken to Death's Door, a mystery bookstore that may be too aptly named. And now lurking somewhere in the store is the assassin, and this time, he's determined not to miss.