Deadly Harvest (7 page)

“Well, cheers, then. We seem to have one hell of a mystery on our hands.”

“Want to catch me up?” Jeremy asked.

“There's probably not much to tell you that you don't already know. Dave O'Reilly, a patrolman, found your friend Johnstone in the cemetery shouting for his wife, supposedly only moments after she disappeared. And I have to admit, I've asked around, and as near as I can tell, it seems he's telling the truth about how they spent the day and the timing of her disappearance. The only one I haven't found to corroborate the story was some guy who managed to pitch a fortune-teller's tent in the middle of the psychic fair without a permit. He's long gone. But other people remember seeing the tent, and some of them went in for one of his readings. Anyway, that doesn't really matter, since the Johnstones were seen together afterward. In fact, they had a late lunch right here.”

“So it looks as if it's true, as if Brad and Mary were having a nice day together—and then she just disappeared,” Jeremy said, thinking that he would have to come back and ask questions here at the restaurant when Joe Brentwood wasn't around.

“That's what it looks like,” Joe agreed.

That's what it
looked
like. It was obvious that Brentwood was still suspicious of Brad.

Jeremy noted that a couple had entered the restaurant and were pointing at Rowenna, huge smiles on their faces. The woman came forward quickly, unwinding the black scarf she'd been wearing around her neck. “Rowenna, you're home!”

Rowenna stood, hugged the woman, and then embraced the man as he came up behind the woman. Joe Brentwood's eyes rolled. “The Llewellyns,” he said, shaking his head slightly.

“Eve, Adam, it's great to see you.” Rowenna turned with a smile on her face to introduce them to Jeremy. “Adam and Eve Llewellyn,” she said.

Jeremy stood, shaking hands as he examined the newcomers. The man was tawny-haired, tall, and perhaps a few years older than Rowenna. The woman was petite, and he thought that her hair had been dyed to its jet-black color. Her eyes were a powdery blue. She was cute rather than pretty, with an engaging smile. “Jeremy Flynn,” he said.

“Hi, wonderful to meet you,” Eve said, pumping his hand.

“A pleasure,” Jeremy said.

“How do you do?” Adam said.

The wife had a more sincere handshake, Jeremy thought.

“Adam and Eve Llewellyn, huh?” he asked.

“Oh, the name is for business,” Adam said.

“Adam and Eve. Catchy,” Jeremy said.

“My name is really Eve, and his really is Adam,” Eve said, grinning. “But Llewellyn is kind of like a stage name. We were the Eidenwiesses.”

“We had it changed legally,” Adam said. “Hey, Joe, how are you?”

“Okay, all things considered,” Joe said, greeting the couple with a nod.

“They're wiccans, and they run a store specializing in magical items,” Rowenna explained.

The Llewellyns weren't looking, and Joe rolled his eyes at Jeremy again. So much for Rowenna's claim that Joe respected any and all religions equally. At least the guy seemed ready to side with him on something, he thought. Good. He would have to use it.

“Oh, Rowenna, we're so glad you're home.” Eve was clasping Rowenna's hands as she glanced over at Jeremy. There was a question in her eyes, even though she spoke casually. “And you've come with a friend.”

“Jeremy is a private investigator, and he's here because he's working for Brad Johnstone,” Joe said curtly.

“Really?” Adam looked at Jeremy with new interest. “Terrible thing. They were in our shop that day. They seemed to be a really sweet couple. I can't believe he would have hurt her.” Almost as if to emphasize his words, he cracked the gum he was chewing.

“I can't believe people are suggesting that he did.” Even as Jeremy heard himself say the words defensively, he knew they were stupid. It was easy to believe; it was even procedure. In cases like this, it was imperative to clear the spouse first.

Joe was looking at him with a hint of dry amusement, apparently glad that he'd so quickly betrayed a weakness.

“So you'll be investigating her disappearance, too?” Adam asked.

Jeremy nodded.

“So you haven't found anything, Joe?” Eve asked sadly.

“I'm glad Brad has a friend in his corner,” Adam said when Joe didn't answer, then looked over at the older man as if afraid he might have offended him.

Joe neatly eliminated that possibility. “I'm an old cop, so I don't mind any help I can get. If Mr. Flynn can find any information that will help solve this case, I'll be more than grateful.”

Oddly enough, Jeremy thought that he meant it. He was finding it difficult to get a good reading on the man. He almost missed it when Joe added softly, almost to himself, “And Ro is home now.”

Jeremy glanced at his watch. It was close to time to meet with Brad. “You'll have to excuse me, but I have an appointment over at the Hawthorne Hotel bar. Nice to meet you,” he told the Llewellyns. “I'll be seeing you, I'm sure.” He started to reach into his pocket for his wallet.

“Hey, put that away. I can afford to buy you a beer,” Joe said.

“Well, thanks, then. Thanks so much.”

“And I'll be seeing
you,
” Joe assured him.

“I'm sure you will,” Jeremy said dryly. “Rowenna…”

“I have to get my things from your car,” she reminded him.

He shook his head. “If it's all right with you, I'll come back and get you and drive you out to your place in an hour or so. I'd like to see where you live and get a feel for the area from someone who knows it well.”

“I can take Rowenna home,” Joe said.

“I'm sure you can, but if Rowenna doesn't mind…?”

She was studying him, he noted, with a slight frown. Had it just been a one-night stand? He didn't think so. Not with her. He was sure he'd read her right. No doubt she'd dated, had known men over the years, but she'd never let them in, never let them get close.

Rowenna flashed him a quick smile, then turned to Joe. “Actually, it will be easiest if Jeremy gives me a ride. That way we won't have to bother moving my luggage around.”

“Where are you staying here in town?” Joe asked Jeremy bluntly.

“I'm renting an old house over on Essex,” he told Joe, reminding himself that the old guy had been through a lot, so no wonder he was protective of Rowenna. God knew, he didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to lose a son. Parents weren't supposed to outlive their children. Sons should bury their fathers, not the other way around.

“I'll come join you after we eat,” Rowenna said.

“I'll walk her over,” Joe promised.

“Okay, see you then.”

As Jeremy walked away, he was aware that they were all watching him until he had left the restaurant. He knew that he would be the topic of conversation for at least the next few minutes.

It was just a few blocks down the quiet streets to the hotel bar where he was planning to meet Brad Johnstone. The night was cool and crisp. Streetlights lit the way, but the businesses were closed for the day, and a forlorn feeling had settled over the street, along with the fallen leaves of autumn.

The hotel had been built in the early part of the twentieth century, but it was surrounded by buildings that dated back to the late 1700s. It was near the town green, where Pilgrims had once grazed their livestock. Now a concert was advertised for the following weekend.

The hotel offered a wave of warmth after the chill of the streets. He found the bar, and there, slumped in a stool at the bar, head resting in his hands, was Brad.

Jeremy walked over and set a hand on his shoulder. When Brad looked up, the hope in his eyes was so great it was almost alarming. He stood and threw his arms around Jeremy, hugging him tightly. Jeremy patted his back, feeling awkward, and extricated himself from his friend's grasp.

“What's your poison?” the bartender asked, coming right over.

“I'll take a draft, thanks,” Jeremy said.

“We can move to a booth over there,” Brad said, grabbing his glass, which was filled with what looked to be bourbon. “Hugh,” he said to the bartender, “this is my friend Jeremy Flynn. He's here to help me find Mary.”

“Sure hope so,” Hugh said, handing Jeremy a beer. Apparently the bartender was on Brad's side, Jeremy thought.

But not everyone was. That was apparent immediately. Three women and two men were sitting nearby, and as he slid into the booth that Brad had pointed out, he saw one of the women nudge the other and whisper something as they stared at Jeremy. The second woman shuddered visibly.

“Thank God you're here,” Brad told him.

“I'll do anything I can to help,” Jeremy assured him. “You know that. Still nothing?”

“If I'd heard anything,” Brad said glumly, “the world would know.” He groaned. “To tell the truth, I'm just waiting for someone to come and slip the cuffs on me.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Brad, no one can arrest you without evidence, and there isn't any evidence, because you would never hurt Mary. The thing is, no one disappears into thin air, so there
will
be evidence of something, somewhere. What we have to do is track down that evidence.”

“Do you know how many times I've gone over our every footstep?” Brad asked him.

“Doesn't matter. We're going to do it again,” Jeremy said.

Brad nodded glumly.

“I'm so afraid.”

He was definitely telling the truth on that score. His fingers were trembling as he picked up his glass. “Last night…for just a second, I thought…”

“You thought…what? You saw her? Heard her? What?”

Brad shook his head ruefully. “I thought she called me on the phone. But it wasn't her, it was her mother. She was crying, begging me to give Mary back to them. I think she'd been drinking. Then Mary's dad got on the line and told me he was going to kill me.”

“He isn't going to kill you.”

Brad ignored that comment and went on. “He's given her up for dead. I can't do that.” He hesitated and looked at Jeremy, his eyes unfocused, as if he'd had a few bourbons before this one. “She isn't dead, Jeremy. I think that I'd feel it. I know that sounds stupid, but I really think I'd feel it. But she's…she's in danger. If we don't find her soon, she
will
be dead. Oh, God.” Bourbon nearly sloshed over the rim of his glass when he picked it up this time, draining half the contents of the glass in a swallow. “Jeremy, we walked into the cemetery and Mary disappeared. That was it.”

“Brad, it was Halloween. There were dozens of people around. Someone must have seen something. We just haven't found that person yet.”

Brad went on as if he hadn't even heard him. “Now the whole world knows we were having problems, that we'd just gotten back together. They write about me in the papers as if I'm a monster.”

“What they write in the papers doesn't matter.”

“Oh, yeah? People stare at me, Jeremy.”

“Toughen up, Brad. Hell, you're a cop. You know what people think, and you know it doesn't matter. What matters is thinking of every single detail, of following every little clue.”

Wincing, Brad nodded. “I know that, and I've tried. We've thought of everything…Hell, the cops here have even looked at the idea that Mary was pulling a disappearing act to get even with me. But she didn't. Mary isn't like that. You know her, and you know she'd never do anything like that. Plus we found her cell phone and her purse, with her credit cards and ID still in it, lying on a grave.”

“Have they investigated the grave?” Jeremy asked.

Brad shook his head, reaching for his drink again. “It wasn't disturbed. Jeremy, it really is like she disappeared into thin air.”

“I told you, no one disappears into thin air. No matter how efficient the kidnapper was, he'll have left evidence. For now, tell me everything about that day.”

Brad shook his head. “You must have heard everything already by now. I'm sure you were on the Internet two minutes after I called you.”

“I want to hear it from you. The whole day, from start to finish.”

Brad almost smiled. “With details? We started the morning off with a wild bout of sex. Honest. That's the best thing about making up, starting over. Man, the sex has been good again. Had been good,” he added in a whisper.

“The rest of the day, Brad. Everything. You had sex. And then…?”

Brad nodded. Took a deep breath. Started talking. He had street names down pat, along with museum and shop names. But he hesitated when he got to the afternoon.

“It was that Damien guy. I know it. He was a real creep. He liked Mary right off. I saw the way he looked at her.”