Peril in Paperback (26 page)

“Let’s do it,” I said.

The two of us walked around the yard, conducting what Gabriel called a perimeter search. We were looking for any signs that Stephen might have been dragged off or maybe just wandered away on his own.

I pointed toward the row of cars parked at the far edge of the back driveway. “Do we know what kind of car he drove?”

“I asked Grace. She said he drives an old silver Cadillac.”

“For real? A silver Cadillac?” Of course he did.

“Yeah. Guess he’s old-school when it comes to cars.”

“He’s old, anyway,” I grumbled. That wasn’t fair, though, since Fowler wasn’t much older than my own parents. But I guess what my father was always saying was true. You really were as young as you felt. Stephen had to feel a thousand years old, he was such a crotchety geezer.

It was easy to pick out the classic Cadillac, with its garish fins and wide, shiny grill, from the line of cars.

“At least we know he hasn’t driven off somewhere.”

We approached the car cautiously. I didn’t know what I was expecting to find. After what Suzie and Vinnie had said about me at dinner the night before, the expectation of the other guests was that I would be the one to find the dead body of Stephen Fowler. And then I would identify the killer, handcuff him, and toss him over my shoulder to carry him off to jail. Super Brooklyn.

But the car was empty.

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Where is this guy?” I wondered, and turned in a circle to scan the larger area surrounding Grace’s mansion. “Could he still be somewhere inside the house?”

“That’s my guess.” Gabriel cupped his hands over his eyes to block the sun’s glare as he bent over and stared through the windows of the car. Finally he straightened up. “Nothing helpful in there.”

“Where to next?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked around, then pointed toward the water. “Grace’s property extends down to the shoreline and deep into the woods, and includes hundreds of yards of shorefront on both sides of the house. It’s a few dozen acres at least.”

“We can’t possibly search it all,” I said. “We’ll have to call in the police.”

“He hasn’t been missing much longer than twelve hours,” Gabriel said as we walked back to the house. “But you’re right. That doesn’t matter. We’ve already had one murder and one attempted murder. If we don’t find him today, we’ll need to call the police to come out to conduct a wider search.”

“They should’ve come back here by now, anyway. We’ve kept the séance room locked all week in case they need to search it for more evidence. But how can they collect any viable evidence at this late date?”

And would you listen to me? I guess I’d learned something during all those brushes with crime scenes.

Gabriel shrugged. “That’s their problem. Right now Fowler is ours. We’ll search the house from basement to attic again.” He turned and looked up at the house. “There are so many trapdoors and sliding panels and trick rooms, he could be anywhere. And we’re going to check them all.”

“Fine,” I said. “As long as I don’t fall through one of them.”

“Why not?” He grinned. “It’s kind of a fun ride.”

I stopped and gaped at him. “You’ve fallen through a trapdoor?”

“On purpose,” he specified.

“Ah. Right.” I bit back a smile.

“It’s true,” he said. “When Grace was building the place I came out and played guinea pig for her.”

“So what’s with the changing walls and floors and stuff? Does she have attention deficit disorder or is she just bored with the same old thing?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I honestly think she set out to build a magical fun house. The thing is, when you fall through one of the trapdoors, you end up on a very safe slide that leads to a soft landing in the basement. It’s a hoot.”

It did sound like fun, now that he was describing it. Vinnie hadn’t been quite so positive in her assessment, though. And I could see her point. Fun or not, it would be terrifying to suddenly drop through a trapdoor.

“Grace sponsors parties for foster kids and terminally ill kids out here and they have a blast,” Gabriel said.

“I didn’t know that,” I said. “That’s wonderful of her.”

“She’s just a big kid at heart.”

Vinnie had said basically the same thing about Grace, but it hadn’t been a compliment.

“How long have you known Grace?” I asked.

He thought about it. “When I first met her, she was
still working in the city. So I guess it’s been five or six years.”

“Did you two meet because of books?”

“Books. Games.” He shrugged, then added, “Tricks.”

Tricks? But he didn’t offer to explain that last item and I knew I wouldn’t get any more information from him. Gabriel remained a mystery to me and I almost preferred it that way. I didn’t know whether he was a thief or a hero, but I considered him one of my closest friends. I trusted him with my life, though not necessarily with my most valued books.

“Do you know why she moved out here?” I asked.

He took in the sweeping view of giant pines, rugged mountains, and a crystalline blue lake. “Seriously? You have to ask?”

I curled my hands inside my vest pockets as I followed his gaze. “I know it’s beautiful, but it’s so isolated.”

“Grace is a very private person.”

I blurted out my next question. “Were you two lovers?”

He laughed, then slanted a look at me. “You really think I would ever answer that?”

I smiled. “It was worth a try.”

“Grace is a beautiful woman,” he said thoughtfully. “But I don’t think I’m her type.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re every woman’s type.”

“Babe,” he said, and smirked adorably.

“Well, you’re not
my
type but…” I laughed, then shrieked like a little girl when he grabbed me and tossed me over his shoulder. “Put me down, you nut.”

“Not until you—”

An ear-piercing scream from the house stopped us both. Gabriel set me down and we raced as fast as we could to the nearest door. The screaming continued in short bursts as we stormed into the kitchen—and found Merrilee squealing in terror at the sight of Stephen Fowler. “They said he was dead! He’s dead!”

I had to admit Fowler looked pretty bad. His hair was
matted with blood and his face was streaked with dirt. His clothes were ripped and wrinkled and filthy. But he was very much alive and annoyed as hell.

“Where have you been?” I demanded, then almost gagged from the sight of dried blood that had dripped down his neck. I had a little problem with blood. I tended to faint at the mere sight of it. So I took deep breaths and looked away and thought of hot fudge sundaes.

“He’s supposed to be dead,” Merrilee whimpered.

“Oh, shut up, you idiotic twit,” Stephen snapped.

“Don’t talk to her that way,” I said, just as Gabriel grabbed hold of Stephen’s shirt and shook him once, hard.

“Hey! I’m the victim here,” he whined loudly.

“That’s no reason to take your crappy attitude out on Merrilee,” Gabriel said, his tone deadly serious.

I laced my arm through Merrilee’s and pulled her aside. “Who told you Stephen was dead?”

“Everyone was talking about him at breakfast,” she explained. “They said he was as good as dead. Dead as a doornail.”

At least she wasn’t reporting that they blamed his death on me.

“So it scared you when you saw him,” I prompted.

She nodded vigorously. “I thought he might be a zombie.”

This was the first time I’d seen Merrilee act in such a naive and childlike manner. I had begun to think that Suzie was wrong about her, but now I could see that she was a bit challenged. She was beautiful as well as thoughtful and kind, and she ran Grace’s house and staff professionally and competently. Seeing this sudden shift in her personality was a real eye-opener.

“You know there’s no such thing as zombies, right?” I said gently.

“I guess so,” she said, pouting. “But he’s mean, too.”

“I completely agree—he’s a total jerk.”

“Hey!” Stephen shouted.

“Zip it,” Gabriel told him.

Merrilee’s smile blossomed and grew. “Thank you, Brooklyn.”

I squeezed her arm in response, then let her go.

“Well.” She rubbed her hands together. “The beds aren’t going to make themselves, are they? I’d better find Shelly and get going with the chores.” And just like that, she was back to her regular self. In a flash, she bustled off to take care of her people and her world.

Leaving Gabriel and me to deal with a wild-eyed, very cranky Stephen Fowler.

“He wouldn’t tell you where it happened?”

“No,” Gabriel said, glowering at the walls of the third-floor hallway. “The jackass would only admit that he was pushed, but refused to tell me where.”

“So we’re on our own again,” I said, disappointed that Fowler wouldn’t just walk upstairs with us and point out the spot where he’d fallen through the wall. Merrilee was right: the guy was a zombie.

“Pretty much,” Gabriel said, knocking on another wall.

“But I thought you’d been through the trapdoors before. Don’t you know where they are?”

“She keeps moving them,” he muttered.

I ran my hand across a seam in the wall panel. “Fowler was probably too embarrassed to talk about it.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes, studying the surfaces of the walls, looking for a secret panel or a hidden doorway.

Gabriel’s theory was that the killer, thwarted by Bella’s death and Shelly’s near miss, might have changed tactics. If Fowler were disposed of, then Grace wouldn’t be able to change her will right away. The killer would have a reprieve and be able to take the time to plan the perfect way to finally get rid of Grace.

This assumed that the killer was someone who was actually mentioned in Grace’s will.

Maybe it was a long shot, but if we could find the spot in the house where Fowler had disappeared, we might find a clue as to who might have pushed him.

“Merrilee had it right when she called him a zombie,” I said crossly. “Wouldn’t it be fitting if he turned out to be our killer? I didn’t mean that. Not really.”

“Yeah, I know. But it would solve some problems.”

“Everyone hates him, anyway.”

Gabriel leaned his shoulder against the wall and stared at its surface from the side. “The good news is that Grace was too distracted last night to make any changes in the configuration of these walls.”

“Small favors.”

“Yeah.”

I smiled at the way he understood my shorthand speak. My entire family had a tendency to talk this way. It was a legacy from growing up with our great-aunt Jessica. She spoke in clichés so much that eventually she stopped saying the whole phrase and only uttered a word or two. “Saves nine,” she would say, or “Once bitten.” And we would all nod in agreement.

Derek had always gotten a kick out of that, too. My heart did a little twist at the thought of Derek, and I wondered if he missed me as much as I missed him.

Absence makes?
I could only hope.

“Check out this panel,” Gabriel said.

“What do you see?” I asked, moving closer.

“This seam here.” He ran his hand over the wall.

I pressed against the wall and stared at it the way he had, sideways, trying to see if I could discern a gap in the panels. But instead my eye caught a flicker of white halfway down the hall. I jogged off to see what it was.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

I stopped at a small antique console. A bouquet of freshly cut flowers had been arranged on a pretty white doily. Turning to Gabriel, I pointed to the floor. “Right here.”

I stooped beside the console and grabbed a torn piece
of paper off the carpet. It was the top corner of some kind of court document. I knew because I could see two thin vertical lines running down the side of the page with numbers next to the lines.

Standing up, I waved it at Gabriel. “Look at this. It’s a small piece of some legal document. Stephen Fowler is a lawyer. Maybe he was carrying this when he disappeared.”

“It’s part of a legal brief,” Gabriel muttered, staring at the torn fragment. “Makes sense.”

“It sure does,” I said, excited now. “So let’s look right around here.” I started pushing on the wall, testing random sections and panels. With a soft click, one section abruptly gave way and I fell forward, tumbling down into blackness.

It wasn’t that much fun after all.

I landed on my back—thankfully on something soft and welcoming—with a loud plop. I lay still, stunned, for several seconds, first trying to catch my breath and decide if I’d broken anything in the fall, and then trying to figure out where I was. I didn’t recognize the room, but as I shifted position, it felt like I was sprawled across a giant balloon. It squeaked with every movement I made and felt like one of those giant bounce castles people rent for kids’ birthday parties.

The initial shock wore off gradually, and then I started to appreciate the ride itself. Maybe I was hysterical, going crazy, but I didn’t think so. Now that I was safe, I could see that the ride down had been kind of fun. Scary and bizarre, but fun. I could understand how kids would get a huge kick out of it.

But I still would have preferred some advance warning.

Suddenly from somewhere up above, I heard Gabriel yell, “Move out of the way!”

I rolled quickly. Gabriel plummeted down the chute and flew out onto the balloon pillow mere seconds later. A minor tidal wave erupted and I was bounced forcefully toward the edge. Oh yeah, an adult-sized bouncy
castle; that’s what this was like. And I was about to fall off.

He reached out and grabbed my sweater. “Don’t fall on your head, for God’s sake.”

“Thanks. I’m okay.” I lay back on the pillow as it settled, and stared at the cavelike ceiling. “Where are we?”

“This is the basement.”

That made sense. It was more dungeonlike than anywhere else in the house. “It looks like it was carved out of stone.”

“It was.”

I ran my hands over the surface of the pillow, then turned my head and looked at him. “This thing is like one of those bouncy castles they have at kids’ parties.”

“You visit bouncy castles often?”