Murder on the Ol' Bunions (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) (26 page)

He leaned close enough that I could smell the scent of bubble gum on his breath. “I did it.” He held a finger to his lips.

“Whatever for?”

“You know those articles I’m getting ready to run on Maple Gap?”

Aha!

“I put two and two together looking over an old map of the town at the library. Marion wouldn’t let me in her store, but after she died, I spent quite a bit of time poking around until I found the bookcase. Good thing for me Chief didn’t let the state police lock the place down. But
Valorie
had no idea that I used her key and it might upset her if she knew . .
. ”

I got his meaning.

Hardy hustled up to the car and got in, waving his hand out the driver’s side window. “Come on, we
gonna
be late.”

Mark, easy as you please, walked beside me and opened my car door. He hunkered down and spoke through my lowered window. “Just so you know
,
I have every intention of talking to the chief.”

Hardy put the car in reverse and Lou crept backward. Mark got the message and stood, slapping a hand on the door and waving.
“Where you off to now?”

As Hardy maneuvered Lou into drive, I hollered back, “Dana’s place.”

Funny thing, Mark didn’t look too happy about that. I grabbed my drink and took a long pull at the straw, wondering what it meant.

I tapped Hardy on the arm. “Where’s my change?”

He grunted, took a hand off the steering wheel, and passed me a handful of coins and a crumpled dollar bill.

Dana greeted us amiably enough. She offered us tea. I declined, remembering my last episode. Hardy accepted. We followed her into the living room. Hardy’s eyes fell on the Steinway like a man starved. First off, I noticed the boxes. Where few books had been before, now the shelves were completely bare, as if instead of unpacking, she was packing.

There were no papers on her end table either.
Nothing.
As if the place had been stripped of everything just before our arrival.
Strange.
I sauntered toward the dining room expecting to see all the frills stripped away from the furniture. I was wrong. The room turned out to be completely empty. From my spot, I could see straight into the kitchen.
Her cupboards, her table.
There wasn’t anything. Even the door had been stripped of its thick lace curtain.

She moved between the sink and stove, filling a kettle with water and transferring it. With her back to me, I had the advantage of watching her. She paused at the
sink,
hands braced on the lip, and drew in a deep breath.
Then another.
She reached up to the cabinet and flicked open the door and took down two of the four teacups inside. One slipped out of her grip and shattered on the floor. She stared down at it, her hair swinging to cover her profile.

I figured now was a good time to let my presence be known. “You okay, Dana? Need some help?”

She swung toward me looking like a trapped animal. “No. No, I’m okay. I dropped a teacup. I’ll . . . get the broom.”

“You look like you’re packing up.
You moving?”

All the color drained from her face. “I decided the dining room furniture was too much. I . . . sold it.”

Seemed to me she liked that furniture pretty well, being it was the only room in the house completely set up last time I visited.

She squatted next to the cup and tried to work the broom and the dustpan at the same time. The kettle let out its first warbling whistle and she jumped, the dustpan tilting at a crazy angle.

I tried to keep my voice light.
“Lovely outfit.
Is it new? Sara told me you and her
mom were
talking clothes this afternoon. She wasn’t too happy. Said she’d seen you in that outfit before anyway. The same day they served her meatloaf at school.” I tapped my chin as if thinking. “Tuesday I think it was.”

Dana’s eyes darted to my face. I could feel her tense up, trying to gauge my words so she could match her responses. I went cold. Behind her expression, a malevolent force seemed to brew. If I didn’t miss my mark, Ms. Dana
Letzburg
was getting angry.

The whistle of the kettle became steady. I pointed.
“Noisy thing.”

She pivoted to the stove and tugged the kettle off the burner. Not moving farther. I decided I’d better retreat a bit. “Sounds like
Hardy’s
enjoying your piano.”

I escaped through the dining room, imagining I could feel Dana’s eyes burning through my back. Something clattered behind me. I kept going, feeling a real urgency to get to Hardy.

When I went over to stand by Hardy, he raised his eyes in silent question. I patted my forehead like I was wiping sweat. He kept going, with me making comments to him out loud, hoping the chatter would lower Dana’s guard. I had pushed too hard.

She finally came into the living room. Her nostrils
flared,
her expression cold. No teacups or silver service. Hardy caught sight of her and stood up. “Your piano still isn’t sounding real good. Maybe old Payton is losing his touch.”

“He’s had a lot on his mind lately.” She leaned against the doorway.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Read in the paper where you’d reported a theft. Was that the diary you and
LaTisha
talked about?”

“Yes.”

“Chief was talking to me and
LaTisha
about that. He said you said you’d found it.
Funny thing.”
He rubbed his jaw. “When
LaTisha
brought her boxes inside the other night, we found an old diary on top. You think it’s the one you lost? Or maybe it’s the one you found?”

“No, it’s the one I found, Hardy.” Payton shouldered his way through the doorway, diary in hand. Dana straightened and moved aside, relief sliding across her face.

“So you did find it.” Hardy cracked a grin. “
LaTisha
declared she laid it down somewhere in the living room, but when she got home it wasn’t anywhere to be found.”

Nothing seemed right about this scene. When had Payton arrived? Why hadn’t I heard him knock?

“Well you can give me that there diary back,” I said. “Mark will
be needing
it to see if we can find the gold.”

“We?”
Payton’s smile stuck to his lips though his eyes held a hint of darkness. “There won’t be any we in this,
LaTisha
. There’s already been too much already and we’re going to take care of that tonight, with the help of this.” He held up the diary. “Then Dana and I are going to slip this town.”

So that’s what’s up with the boxes sitting around. “What if that gold is just a legend?”

Payton’s gaze went to Dana. “Then we’ll use the little nest egg Dana’s been working on.”

Selling grades.

“You
gonna
just leave your music store?” I could tell by Hardy’s tone that the thought of those grand pianos being left behind horrified him.

“They’ll be picked up by the manufacturer. I’m tired of trying to make ends meet in this loser town.” He flexed his right hand. “Maybe the gold will give me a real chance at having my hand fixed to where I can play again.” His expression opened up as he smiled at me. “You’re pretty smart. You almost caught Dana and
I
one night. That was the night we found our secret entrance boarded up. I couldn’t believe you’d found it so fast.”

“I didn’t find it until this morning.”

Payton’s eyes darted toward Dana, then back at me.
“Then who?”

But his question seemed suddenly far away as my mind flashed back to that morning I found Marion dead. The shivers on my arms at the draft of air I’d felt.
The bookcase.
The entrance to the secret room through Payton’s store.

Every bit of moisture in my mouth evaporated. Dana had gone to Marion’s shop that morning . . .

Dana’s eyes were on me. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t know about the room until Payton told me the night Marion died. I’d called Payton over that evening to get him to retune my piano, but instead he confessed he’d taken the diary.”

Payton gave her a hard look. “That’s enough. Let her figure it out on her own. We’ve got to get moving.”

Hardy grabbed my hand. “Then we won’t be keeping you two another minute.”

Payton blocked one side of the doorway, Dana the other. “We can’t let you two leave. I came over to show Dana the diary.
Figured we’d have to detain you two to give us a chance to look for the gold before you did.”
He nodded at Dana and she left her post and headed toward the kitchen.

“Now don’t you be foolish, boy,” I admonished.

“You know, it always did hurt my feelings that you didn’t like my clothes. You should be relieved to know that I’m leaving town.”

I heard the opening and closing of some drawers in the kitchen. Hardy squeezed my hand tight, his palm turning sweatier with each passing second. “What did you do to Marion?”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Payton got jittery. His eyes flicked between Hardy and me. He licked his lips. “She fell.”

“A simple fall wouldn’t kill someone like her.”

His lips twitched and he opened his mouth. “Hurry up, Dana!”

I felt Hardy’s hand slide away from mine. “I need to sit down,” he murmured.

I turned as he began backing toward the armchair. A quick look at his face and I knew Hardy would head for the floor any minute. Some help he was
gonna
be in a tight spot,
laying
cold on the floor.

When the back of Hardy’s knees hit the front of the armchair, he collapsed. I shuffled over to him. With his face tilted toward his lap, he raised his eyes at me. Uh-huh! I got his possum playing scheme. Payton came up beside
me,
rope in his hand and a roll of duct tape. I needed to create a distraction to give Hardy a chance to make his move.
But what?

“Move back, Mrs. Barnhart. I’ll tie Hardy up first.”

I inflated myself until I stood as tall as Payton, and I knew I was wider. “You
ain’t
tying me up at all. We’ve got to get him to a hospital.” I took a step back and pulled up real hard on the rolled waistband of my hose. Change splattered all over the place.

Payton’s eyes went straight to all the coins rolling everywhere on the hardwood. Hardy flew out of the chair and latched onto him like a rabid dog. Dana took a step in their direction and let loose a scream, turned and ran.

“Tape!”
Hardy yelped at me.

I kicked the roll of tape Payton had dropped over toward Hardy, debating in that second whether I should go after Dana or not. She already had a good head start. Instead, I flopped down on Payton. Ripping sounds rent the air as Hardy made short work of wrapping Payton’s legs, then his wrists.

“Go after Dana,” I told him. “I’ll keep him put.”

Hardy ran through the doorway, the kitchen door slamming behind him.

Payton, his face turned sideways against the floor and slightly red, muttered unintelligible words beneath the strip of tape on his mouth. I whapped him a good one on his backside and did a little bounce to let him know who was boss. “You keep a civil tongue, boy, or I’ll keep it up.”

Minutes passed when I heard the front door open and a winded Hardy entered the living room followed by the chief, who escorted a handcuffed Dana, and trailed by Mark Hamm
,.

“How’d you get here so fast?”

 
Chief answered. “Mark came to get me. Told me all about his breaking in to try and help us find the entrance, and his suspicions about Payton and Dana. I figured we’d better head this way.
Good thing, too.”

Payton mumbled. I reached down, my hand hovering by the edge of the tape on his mouth. “It’s
gonna
hurt.” I yanked it clear.

Payton howled.
“Get . . . her . . . off me.
I want a . . . lawyer.”

Hardy helped me up, while Chief knelt to put handcuffs on Payton. I hung on to Hardy real tight.

“Dana’s already started talking, Payton,” Chief warned Payton as he herded his two prisoners toward the doorway.

“Thanks for sending the chief our way, Mark,” I said.

“Not a problem,” he replied over his shoulder as he followed the group outside.

“You sure know how to read my mind,” Hardy whispered against my shoulder. “Sitting in that chair, I was hoping you’d come up with something to distract Payton long enough to let me have a chance at him.”

I rubbed my chin on his grizzled head. “You scared me.
Thought you were real sick.”

He chuckled.
“Was.
Started thinking Payton might do something that required my blood.
Got a little light-headed.
But it cleared when I sat down.” His arms tightened around me and he tilted his face toward mine, eyes glinting. “You okay?”

“Right as rain, babe.”

His tooth flashed. “There was one more mystery solved today.”

“What’s that?”