Triple Threat Mysteries Collection

Chapter 15

“You found it!” Linda, smiling jubilantly and waving a waterproof lantern, rushed forward. Her left cheek sported dirt shaped like a top hat while the tip of her ski-slope nose missed a couple of layers of skin.

Rey raced in from behind, followed by Prunella and then May-Lee.

“What? The room?” I grabbed the intense light and switched it off. I was already suffering from partial hearing loss, no thanks to good ol" Perc, so partial blindness wasn"t on the rest of the agenda.

“The entrance to the hidden passageway.” She motioned the corridor from which they"d emerged.

“It was you who found it.” Peering past her shoulder, I viewed only exaggerated shadows and darkness. I motioned the opposite wall. “We came across the other one during our travels.”

you“They actually loop around. It"s kind of weird and wacky the way things connect, but this place is really cool,” Rey exclaimed, pulling cobwebs and dust balls the size of marsh plants from disheveled hair.

“It has a certain fun factor,” Prunella agreed, stepping alongside her brother. Her costly cashmere sweater was layered with grime and a three-inch tear graced one sleeve. A jagged scrape bloodied one cheek and an abrasion divided an eyebrow the size of a Tootsie Roll.

“Did you ladies meet a mad ghoul along the way?” Adwin joked.

She fingered the wound and smiled dryly. “It was more like erratically positioned pipes and cobweb-mad spiders.”

Percival regarded her worriedly.

She waved his unvoiced concern aside. “A huge repugnant arachnid caught me by surprise. I panicked and smacked iron … face first.” She grinned. “Then, just for effect, I did it again.”

“Pruney, that"s one fabulous scream you have,” Rey declared with a wide smile, sticking an index finger in one ear and jiggling it back and forth.

onePruney appeared to be the name of choice and endearment this evening. Well, there were worse names to answer to.

May-Lee swung around from the rear. She suppressed a sneeze. “I believe I have had more adventure in the last few hours than I have in the last five years.” Sighting something crawling along her stretch linen-blend jeans, which had to cost more than the six pairs of denim I owned, she cast it aside with a soft wail.

Percival stepped on it when it landed by his foot. “What did you find, besides multi-legged companions?”

“Besides bugs – and looping corridors – we discovered a couple of alcoves and another secret room, a smaller version of this one, with a concealed bar and fridge, just off the tower,” Linda offered. “We didn"t find Jensen, though.”

“We did.” I pointed at the recamier.

The women raced across the room like runners in a track-and-field sprint.

Prunella"s tiny lips disappeared while Rey and Linda peered so closely they could have administered mouth-to-mouth. May-Lee simply appeared resigned, but took one long stride rearward.

“You didn"t tell us he was dead,” Rey said flatly.

“You didn"t ask.”

“He wasn"t here when we passed through earlier.” Linda.

“When was that?” I asked.

She glanced at a pumpkin-orange Swatch watch and shrugged. “Twenty minutes ago, give or take.”

“More like fifteen.” Rey.

“More like thirty.” May-Lee.

“Thirty, at the very least.” Prunella.

“You"re certain he wasn"t here when – whatever time – you moved through here?” Adwin asked, baffled.

They looked at one another, then at Jensen, and shrugged simultaneously.

Percival"s eyebrow arced like a gooseneck. “We"d better call the police.”

“What do we do with Jensen the Jokester?” Linda asked, jerking a thumb.

“He"s not going anywhere,” he replied.

“Dead bodies always disappear in the movies,” she said.

“Then why don"t you sit beside the unfortunate bugger and make sure he doesn"t – wait a minute. Has anyone checked that he is dead? He"s already played one prank.”

isWe regarded Percival as if he"d offered a dramatic and enlightening disclosure.

“Well?” he asked.

I pressed Linda"s lantern into his hands, marched forward and scanned Jensen"s tranquil expression, his torso, legs and arms. The digits of his right hand were crusted with blood. Was this all fake? Was it theatrical make-up? I wasn"t inspired to check that closely. Besides, there was no way someone could remain that inactive for that long and not be dead – hold on. CPR 101, courtesy of a ten-minute segment I"d hosted on first aid, kicked in. I pressed two fingers alongside the outer edge of his trachea to feel the pulse of the common carotid artery.

“What"s the verdict, Dr. Fonne?” Rey asked.

“He"s as dead as Fred the Ghost.”

“Let"s hope he doesn"t start singing anytime soon,” Adwin said.

“He"s not going anywhere,” Percival repeated, moving into the opening the trio had emerged from. “But you"re all welcome to keep him company.”

We were on his heels faster than kids on cotton candy at an annual state fair.

The witching hour found a steady stream of ice-heavy rain saturating the state and spreading towards Pennsylvania, New York, and eastern Canada. It also found the return of our two favorite law enforcers.

Thanks to temperamental locks and those “looping” corridors, it took a quarter of an hour with skeptical Sheriff Lewis and surly Detective Gwynne in tow, to find the way back to the secret room. And wouldn"t you know it? As sure as the sun rose in the east, Jensen Q. Moone wasn"t where we"d left him. There was no blood, no weapon … nada.

Back to the drawing room we traipsed, where coffee and sugary treats and an immense roaring fire awaited. Lewis, fifty if he was a day, had an easy-going air about him. When he smiled, sea-green eyes sparkled with sincerity. He"d probably seen a lot of mischief in his youth. Gwynne, on the other hand, leaned toward the somber. He couldn"t have been more than forty, but appeared to have seen it all. Or maybe fourteen years on the Bronx police force had taken its toll; made him familiar with violence and, consequently, indifferent.

The sheriff had a soft Massachusetts accent that recalled fond memories of cherry clams, colorful falls, and saltbox houses. “It"s nawt that I don"t believe you, but there"s no body and no blood.”

“Bring out the Luminol. You"d find trace amounts of it,” Linda suggested with a hint of smugness.

Lewis laughed and took a chocolate-walnut cupcake from a large oval plate. “This isn"t one of those police procedural shows, Miss.”

“What about the fact that Thomas Saturne died?”

Gwynne sighed. “It was an accidental death –”

“For sure?” Linda challenged. The screenwriting assistant was becoming feisty.

sure“For now.” Lewis drained his coffee and stood. “Matty Moone was a good lady and she made a tasty pear crumble pie –”

now“Pear crumble pie?” Rey and I asked simultaneously. Our aunt baked?

baked“Your ahnt enjoyed baking in the fall. Never did it any othah time of the year, except for the week around Christmas, of course. She dropped off a couple of pies, like clockwork, every second Friday throughout the autumn months.” He smiled wistfully and gazed into the distance, as if a slice were within reach.

“Shouldn"t you check out the entire property?” Linda asked.

“I was going to say, before I was interrupted, she made tasty pear crumble pies but she made even greatah jokes.” Lewis glanced at me, then at Rey. “As her nieces, you"d know that bettah than anyone. She probably got this Jensen Moone fellow to play anothah prank.”

“But –”

Gwynne"s concentrated stare silenced Linda.

She frowned and turned to the mammoth fireplace.

“If you won"t find him, we will,” Rey stated haughtily, standing.

“When you find him, I"m sure he"ll be roaring with laughtah,” Lewis said with a grin, smoothing his shirt over a belly that had enjoyed many of Mathilda Moone"s pear pies and more. “We"ll see ourselves ount. Please thank the team in the kitchen for the hospitality.”

“Do you believe that?” Linda asked angrily, watching the two men leave.

“You can"t blame them,” Percival said, attempting to stifle a yawn. “I wouldn"t believe us, given the situation: no corpse.”

noAdwin sipped green tea. May-Lee nibbled a pecan tart and stared into the distance. Linda rubbed her raw nose and Pruney continued to pick at a large bandage on her cheek. I was too tired to care. If Jensen were indeed playing a joke, we"d get him back threefold. If he wasn"t, then the million-dollar question was where was he? Which prompted the two-million dollar question: if he were truly dead, who the hell had moved his body?

“I"m annoyed,” Linda announced, crossing her arms and adopting one of Rey"s peevish moods.

“I"m curious,” Rey offered.

“I"m itchy.” Pruney pulled at the bandage and winced as it came off, with a couple of layers of skin. A tissue quickly found its way to bleeding flesh.

“I"m ready for bed,” May-Lee announced, standing.

“I"m gone.” Percival marched from the room.

“I am, too.” Adwin followed.

“I say we go searching.” Rey.

“I say we get some sleep and start our search with fresh eyes and a decent breakfast in our stomachs.” Keeping the tissue pressed to her wound, Prunella rose slowly.

“I agree. We need to recharge,” I said.

“Hear, hear.” May-Lee strolled into the hallway.

Rey did her pouty thing and Linda sighed, and we ambled upstairs.