Amateur Hour

Nina

For the most part, it hadn’t been a hectic day. What had made it seem so, was the parade of contractors passing in and out of the house, from seven o’clock, to four-thirty. Dealing with five noisy male strangers, and doing it, alone, had taken a toll on Nina’s patience, and serenity.

The men had accomplished a great deal. The new doorway, between the rooms had been opened up, and framed. A door that would match the others, in the house, had been ordered. The old carpet had been taken up, along with the padding, under it. Nina had selected new carpeting, from a bewildering array of samples, and it was to be installed, next week. She hoped Ted would like it, but if he didn’t, that was just too bad.

When presented with paint chips, she had selected a light beige. The painter had been a bit surprised, as this was for a baby’s room. However, Nina intended to decorate the walls, with her own murals, and a beige canvas was what she wanted — something clean, yet not blinding, that would harmonize with whatever palette she used.

“For the trim, too?” the painter had asked.

“Yes, on the baby’s side. The door trim, on our side will be white,” she had replied, somewhat surprised by her own decisiveness.

She had a vision, for the baby’s room, however. Traditional baby motifs, held no appeal, for Nina. Someday the baby would be a child, then a teenager. Her mural would begin at the baseboards, with marsh grass and cattails, from the floor to about the height of her waist, for the tallest.

The the workmen had been gone, for a while, and Nina was cleaning up, after them, with broom and vacuum, when Ted called, to tell her that he was going to be later than he had planned, and that they would order something in, for dinner.

She settled down, to sketch, when her cleanup was done. While she had trouble drawing faces and specific scenes, from memory, there was nothing wrong with her ability to conjure fictional scenes, and she was hard at work on several wall ideas, when she finally heard Ted’s key, in the door.

For an instant, she wondered why Raven hadn’t barked, only to remember that she had put the dog outside, with a large pan of water, and some kibble. At the sound of the door closing, Raven did begin to bark, and Nina hopped up, to kiss her husband, who had both hands full, before trotting back to let her dog in.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said. “I brought Chinese.”

“I’m starving,” she replied, relieving him of half the bags. “Want to see how it’s going, so far?”

“Show me,” he smiled, following her to the baby’s room.

“They got a lot done,” he observed. “Any problems?”

“Nothing major. I went ahead and picked a carpet, and a paint color.”

“Good. I told you, you could manage just fine, without me. What did you get?”

“Low pile, light green, for the carpet. Now that I think about it, it looks a little like duckweed,” she chuckled. “Beige — there’s a fancy name for it, but I can’t remember it — for the walls.”

“Sounds nice. I hope, one day, the Jellybean will appreciate all the work you mean to put into his or her room.”

“His, or her – I am so ready for a sonogram.”

They went back to the table, where Ted unpacked the food, while Nina got out plates and utensils. It smelled delicious. So far, she hadn’t had a single sick moment, and her appetite was good.

“How did it go, with the Sheriff?” she asked, when they were seated, filling their plates.

“I opened a can of worms. Liam’s brother-in-law was right. Nothing had been reported, to the authorities. It wasn’t easy to explain why I didn’t report it, but I think they understood, by the time I was finished. I told them everything I know, and promised to keep them up to date, if more comes out.”

“How will that affect Steph, and Guy? I mean, if the cops are on the case, now, is there anything left, for them to do?”

“There’s plenty. Their perspectives are unique, and they’re allowed to be more creative, in the way they investigate.”

Nina was glad to hear this. She had never met Guy, in person, but she liked Steph, and admired her, no end.

“They’re far from being out of a job. I mean to keep them on retainer, even after all of this other mess is solved. You never know when you might need a PI, when you’re in business.”

He said the last, with no little regret, in his voice.

“You can’t let the business eat you, Ted. You need to delegate, the way you did, in putting Liam and Janice in charge of the school.”

“Don’t worry. I intend to do that. It’s all a matter of figuring out whom I can trust.”

*******

Steph

She was finishing the dinner dishes, when the doorbell rang. The clatter, coming from the office area, as Guy thrust aside whatever he was doing in there, with the office furniture, slowed her roll a little bit. Steph was noticing that he had a ‘thing’ about being the one, to answer doors.

By the time she had rinsed the last glass, and joined him, still drying her hands, on a dishtowel, the courier was getting into his car.

“Did you see Galen anywhere?” she asked.

“I didn’t look.” He handed her the thick envelope the courier had brought, and stepped out, to walk almost to the end of the drive. “No sign of him,” he said, on his return. “He’s just getting the lay of the land, Steve. You told him to be back before dark, right?”

“I’m overcompensating, aren’t I?”

“A little.” He squeezed her shoulder, in passing. “It’s from Ted,” he indicated the envelope, in her hands. “If it’s a love note, it’s a whopper.”

Steph worked at the metal clip, then at the glue seal, as she walked back to the kitchen, with Guy on her heels.

She pulled out a single, handwritten sheet from the top, and read aloud. “Kids,” she began.

“Kids!” he objected.

Steph ignored him, and continued. “Liam found three notebooks, among other things, in the Eldridge mausoleum, today. More details, on that, later. Janice made copies. These are your set. They are Jess Greene’s journals. I’ll call you, tomorrow, with the rest of the story. Hope all is well, with you. Ted.”

“The rest of the story? I bet that’s gonna be epic,” Guy observed.

“I’ll bet. What would prompt Liam to go digging around in a mausoleum?”

“If you want to start, I’ll finish what I was doing. I’m about half done, with the second desk.”

“We need to order another desk, for Kayla.”

“She can use the old reception desk.”

“You’re so mean,” Steph grinned. “She interviewed very well. Admit it.”

“I’ll confess to nothing.”

Nevertheless, she could see that he was trying not to smile.

“Not even under torture?”

“That sounds interesting,” he allowed.

“Go build a desk.” She swatted his arm lightly, with the fat envelope.

“As you wish, Madam,” he replied, in his best Jeeves the Butler accent, following it up with a formal bow.

*******

Ted

Ted had fallen asleep, when his head hit the pillow, and was solidly under, when the phone rang. Nina stirred, beside him.

“Wha —” she mumbled.

“I’ve got it. Go back to sleep.” Ted hit the accept key, and sat up, without turning on the light. “Hello,” he answered, in a hoarse, groggy voice, holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Cousin,” an all to familiar voice replied.

“What do you want?” he demanded, pushing aside the covers, and rising.

“Theodore — is that any tone to take, with family?”

“I’m like that, at..” He glanced at the clock, on the night stand. “…half past midnight.”

“Is it so late? It’s the shank of the evening, when you’re footloose and fancy free. Running a boarding school, for delinquents can be tiring though, I know.”

Ted had carried the phone out to the kitchen, and now he sat down, at the table.

“What do you want?” he repeated.

“Only to let you know that I left something, for you.”

“If you mean your little box of souvenirs, we found it.”

“Souvenirs?” Starkey chuckled, on the other end. “What kind of monster do you think I am, Theodore?”

“Suppose you tell me, Joseph.”

“I’m a monster, but not that kind of monster. That’s beside the point. I am not referring to the box you found — though, you were in the right place. So close to the item I’m referring to, that it might have bitten you, had it been a snake. Unless that hat band of yours protects you from snakebites. A Native American thing, perhaps?”

Ted frowned. “Why would you point me toward even more damning evidence, Joe?”

“I like that. Now we’re on friendlier terms. Because, Ted, it’s exculpatory evidence. I didn’t kill your father, but whomever did, left that particular piece, in his dead grasp. I found Gordon, as you found him.”

“Did you even try to revive him?”

“Certainly not. There would have been nothing in that, for me.” Starkey paused, briefly. “No, Gordon’s mind was quite made up, once he found out that he was going to be a grandfather. That child of yours is more of a blessing than you realize, Ted. I did toy with the thought, of eliminating you, more than once. But your little heir made that pointless.”

“You evil son-of-a-bitch.”

“You speak truth, on that score. My mother is quite the harridan. And, if my thoughts make me ‘evil’, so be it. I would never harm a child, for all that — born or unborn. Nor will I be accused of a murder I didn’t commit.

“Cherchez la femme, Ted. Seek out the lady. Only, do it quickly, please. Given what happened to my house, my life is worth very little to anyone, except me. It’s a good thing I chose to put the evidence, in a safer place, than my home, isn’t it?”

Before Ted could reply, the line went dead.

“Ted, what on earth was that about?” Nina was at the kitchen entry, off the hall, regarding him with wide eyes.

“That, was the most obscene phone call, in the history of obscene phone calls.”

“And, who are you calling, now?”

“Liam.”

“At this hour? It can’t wait until morning?”

“No. It can’t.”

*******

“Have you considered that this might be a trap?” Liam asked, as they wended their way through the woods, toward the cemetery.

“It crossed my mind. But, Joseph Starkey is a paper tiger. Always has been. You’ve driven him off, yourself. He might effectively bully high school students, but he can’t stand up to another man, let alone two.” Ted chuckled, and added: “I’m more worried about prowling reptiles.”

“You’d be able to see those better, in the daylight,” Liam pointed out.

“True. Seems like a good idea to grab the evidence, before he changes his mind, though. He asked me to do it, quickly. I’m taking him, at his word.”

The flashlights that had been so useful in the woods were redundant, once they stepped out into the clearing of the cemetery, under the full moon. They paused, for a moment, to look and listen. All was peaceful, and undisturbed, though a bit eerie.

The headstones cast hard shadows, by moon’s light, but the going was easy, over and around the debris on the ground.

“Key?” Ted prompted, at the mausoleum door.

Liam pulled it out of his pocket, and handed it over.

“I can’t believe Starkey came here, from Gordon’s house, went all the way to his office, for the key, came out here, then went all the way back, to put the damned thing away, in his drawer,” Liam said.

“Probably looked cool as a snowman, the whole time, too,” Ted remarked. “Psychopath.”

The door opened as easily, as before, and they stepped in.

“He can’t have done that,” Ted observed, shining his light on the damage to the crypt.

“He’s not brawny, but he could have started on it, ages ago. Who knows?”

Ted uttered a neutral grunt. He wasn’t sure he agreed, but he supposed it didn’t matter.

“You relocked the casket?”

“Of course, I did.”

“Of course, you did.” Liam was conscientious, to a fault. Ted squatted down, and fitted the odd casket key into the lock, by the light of Liam’s flashlight. He began the process of turning the key, repeatedly, until the latch released. Together, they lifted the lid.

“Has she changed much, since you last saw her?” Ted joked.

“That’s sick, man,” Liam half smiled. “She’s probably some many times great aunt, of yours.”

“Maybe, but I’m not the one, who cracked open her individual crypt. Poor old girl.” He shined his light on and around the nearly mummified body. “I don’t see anything else, in the coffin.”

“Guess you’ll need these, then,” Liam handed him a pair of gloves and a mask, and started to tuck his light under his arm, to don his own.

“I’ll do it. Just give me some light.” Ted knelt, and started pulling aside folds of rotted fabric, with gentle hands, trying to disturb as little as he could. He wanted to preserve the dignity of the body, and he had an equally strong desire to get as little dust on himself, as possible.

There was nothing on or around the head or neck of his ancestress. The same was true, when he pulled the remnants of her sleeves up her arms, almost to the elbow.

“Ted. There’s something under her right hand.”

Yes, there was. He could see it glinting, between the withered fingers. Ted lifted the hand by the wrist, holding his breath. Carefully, he shifted it.

With a peculiar, muffled snap, the hand fell off, landing with a puff of moldy dust, back onto the dead woman’s bosom. Both men uttered identical groans of dismay.

“Yeah. That’s pretty terrible,” Ted said. He hung his head, for a moment, silently apologizing to whomever she had been, both for the earlier joke, and for this catastrophe. With great delicacy, he settled the arm, and picked up the disarticulated hand.

Under it, was a small woman’s ring. There could be no mistake. This was Joe Starkey’s evidence. It was a high school ring, on a broken silver chain — a glaring anachronism.

**************

Guy

As usual, Kayla’s timing had left something to be desired. She had arrived, bag and baggage, just as Guy had seated himself at the kitchen table, with a cold soda and a legal pad, to begin reading the journal copy that Steph had already finished.

They had both been obliged to stop what they were doing, to help her drag her boxes and bags up to the remaining bedroom. For her part, Kayla had been energetic and cooperative, in getting herself settled in. She’d been diffident but affable, with Steph, friendly with Galen, and even civil, to Guy.

It hadn’t been a painful process, on the surface, and Kayla, pleading fatigue after her long drive, had gone to bed, by nine-thirty. Nevertheless, it had unsettled everything, and the effort of playing nice had sapped some of his motivation, to begin a new task.

“Why don’t we just pick this up, tomorrow?” he had suggested, when faced, once more, with the task he hadn’t had time to start.

“I’d like to finish the book I’m on. You go on up, though, and rest. You got a lot done, today.”

He had. Besides assembling two desks, and moving Kayla, Guy had also gotten all of the cameras installed, with Galen’s assistance.

“So have you.”

Steph had gone to the grocery store, and to the wholesale club, and had unloaded the car and put everything away, in addition to feeding everyone.

“It’s not a ‘Mr. Billie’ Lit assignment, you know,” he’d added.

“All right. I guess we do need some downtime.”

They had gone up, to work on the 1000-piece puzzle that occupied the upstairs table, until Guy, unable to keep his eyes open, had had to go to bed.

***

He woke at four am, needing to use the bathroom, and wanting a drink. As he moved down the hall toward the fridge, he saw that Steph’s bedroom door, always closed, when she slept, was ajar.

He pushed it open, slowly, to find that she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the living area, either, nor had she stepped out onto the balcony, to sneak a smoke.

Guy found her, downstairs, at the oversized dining table, amid the journal copies, which had magically tripled. To her immediate right was a legal pad, a red pen, a blue pen, and several highlighters. She had also brought out a box of page marking tabs. To her left, was the first journal, which had begun to be highlighted, and tabbed. Mango was comfortably installed, on her lap.

“Behold, the queen of office supplies, and purloiner of pussycats” he said.

“I like to be organized,” she responded, taking a sip from her coffee cup.

“Do you have any idea, what time it is?”

“Late, or early, depending on your perspective.”

It was a typical Steph Howard answer, if he’d ever heard one.

“Huh,” he grunted, and proceeded to the fridge to get a drink. “It’s after four, in the morning, Steve. You’re not going to be worth a damn, today.”

“I’ve already been worth a damn, today.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the copies she’d made. “When I realized I wanted to mark up a copy, I made another, for you, and a master copy, to keep on file.”

“Is there any toner left, in the printers?” he joked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Not much,” she admitted. “Sorry, about that. We still have three boxes of fresh cartridges.” She lowered her gaze to look at the cat, and stroked his big head. Mango set up a rumbling purr, without opening his eyes.

“Ah — it’s okay. I get it. If there’s ever a next time, though, you might make only one extra copy, and have another done, commercially. It could be cheaper.”

Steph sighed, and forced a smile. “I’ll do that.”

“Hey, I’m not scolding you, for heaven’s sake. I’m in no position, to do that.”

“Don’t be nice to me, vato. I’m not used to it.” Her eyes were still fixed on the cat.

“Okay, then. Come upstairs, and go to bed, you silly heifer.”

“That’s more like it,” she grinned, raising her gaze to him, at last. They were a bit too shiny, as if she had been on the verge of tears. “But, as you can see, I can’t get up, right now. I have cat-in-lap syndrome.”

“I can cure that. Come on, Mango.”

Mango stirred enough to turn his head, and blinked a couple of times, at his owner, before closing his eyes, again.

“Traitor,” Guy muttered.

“Leave him alone, Guy,” objected the woman who was indifferent to cats, as she resumed her petting.

“That’s code, for: ‘leave me alone, Guy’.”

“Not really. I just need to work on this.”

“No. You need to get some rest. This isn’t going anywhere, in the next few hours.”

“You might think differently, if you’d read any of it.”

“As I will. After the sun comes up. Trust me.” He rose and, capping his bottle, put it back in the fridge. Then, he divested her of the big cat, who stretched, with all the unconcern of a human baby, even as he was being picked up.

Guy shook his head, and rolled his eyes, a little. God had never made a mellower feline. He settled Mango into the crook of his arm, and reached down, to grab one of Steph’s hands. “Let’s go. Vamonos,” he insisted, with a tug, when she hesitated.

“All right. Okay.”

Guy stepped aside, at the stairs, for her to precede him, and turned out the kitchen light.