The Grim Reader Page 8
I was sliding into my jeans. “What kind of situation, Mom?”
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, and now her voice dropped to a hush as if she were reluctant to say it. Which made me reluctant to hear it. Then she did. “Well, it seems we’ve found a dead body.”
My gaze snapped to Derek. “Okay, Mom. We’ll be right there.”
“Oh, thank God.” She breathed out a sigh of relief, then hung up.
Derek and I stared at each other. “I forgot to ask who died,” I said. “Any guesses?”
“Too many,” Derek said, tugging his shoes on. “And not enough information.”
“Right. Let’s go save our mothers.”
Chapter 5
We raced outside, jumped into the Bentley, and Derek took off like a racecar driver. At the bottom of the hill, he came to a sudden stop and swore. “With all the excitement tonight, I forgot to get Gabriel’s thoughts on the local police.”
I already had my phone in my hand. “I was about to call the police. Maybe I should call Gabriel first.”
“Yes.”
We had dealt with the local Sonoma police once before and they had been respectful, friendly, and helpful. But Dharma’s population had grown so much that it now had its own police force. It was a whole new ball game and an exciting change for our small community, but I was still nervous because Derek and I had no idea who we were going to be dealing with.
Over the last few years we had gotten to know two of the San Francisco homicide detectives pretty well. Nathan Jaglow was semi-retired now, but Inspector Janice Lee was still on the job and had become a good friend of ours. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be bad-tempered and snarky when she came onto a crime scene and saw me standing there. She was just as liable to give me grief as to sit down and have a glass of wine with us.
I hasten to add that she rarely gave Derek grief, of course. She treated him with respect and always called him Commander, his rank when he served in the British Royal Navy. But then, he was Derek Stone, security expert and international man of mystery. And there was that whole tall-dark-and-dangerous aspect of him to consider.
And what did it say about Derek and me that we both had Inspector Lee’s number on speed dial?
But Inspector Lee can’t help us now, I thought with some dismay. So I tapped Gabriel’s name in my contacts and switched the speaker on. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey,” he muttered.
“It’s Brooklyn and Derek. We’re sorry to wake you.”
“Who’s dead?” he asked first thing.
It took me by surprise and I blinked at Derek.
“Um, good question,” I said with a sinking realization that we hadn’t even asked Mom who the victim was.
“Not important right now,” Derek said briskly.
“Our mothers found a dead body at the town hall,” I hurried to explain.
“Whoa.” He paused for only a moment, as if soaking it in, then said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Wait!”
“What?” he asked.
“We’re about to call the local police,” I said. “Have you dealt with them? Any advice? Is there anyone we should try to avoid or . . .”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, and hung up.
I stared at the phone, then looked at Derek. “Guess that about covers it.”
“Not yet,” Derek said. “Call your father. And I’ll call mine.”
“Oh shoot.” I winced. “You’re right. They’ll flip if we don’t let them know what happened.” I started to call Dad, then stopped. “Don’t you think Mom called him already?”
He gazed at me steadily. “No.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not.” I pressed my parents’ number and waited for Dad to answer. Hearing his groggy voice, I went through my apologies, then told him where we were going and why.
His response was nearly as instantaneous as Gabriel’s. “I’ll meet you there.” And he hung up.
The police probably wouldn’t appreciate all the people who’d be showing up at the crime scene, but it couldn’t be helped. Dad would want to be there for Mom. Likewise, Derek’s father would want to support Meg.
When Derek finished the call to his father, I stared out the window and worried. I had literally been stumbling over dead bodies for years now. But this was different.
“I can hear your brain working, love,” Derek said, and reached for my hand. “What’s going on?”
“It’s this dead body, thing,” I started, then had to take a few deep breaths. “I’ll never get used to it.”
“Darling, if you were ever to get used to it, you would be miserable.”
“True.” I squeezed his hand. “It’s always a shock, and sometimes I can barely hold it together. But now that it’s happening to our mothers, I feel even worse. I’m sick and sad and frightened for them.”
“So am I, love.” He stopped at a light and leaned over to kiss me. “I’m trying to remind myself that they’re both strong women.”
He was right, of course. Mom was a total rock. She had raised six kids plus Robin. She had taken Annie under her wing, too, along with any number of strays over the years. Heck, she had nursed Gabriel back to health when someone tried to shoot his head off. She was smart, funny, talented, capable, and totally in charge. And Meg was right up there with Mom.
But hey, I considered myself strong, too. I’d faced down more than a few vicious killers and lived to talk about it. And yet, it was humbling to admit that I was liable to faint dead away—pardon the pun—at the sight of a dead body. Especially if there was blood involved. I had a thing about blood, even after all these years. One of these days I would really have to do something about it. I’d thought about hypnosis, but I wasn’t sure that would work for me.
“Yes, my mother is very strong,” I said finally. “But she’s also really sensitive. She often feels things on a different level than some of us. Like, I don’t know, some astral plane that only the true weirdos ever reach.”
Derek stifled a laugh. “True.”
“Right. So for her to have to deal with a dead body and, you know, all the vibes and spectral auras and negative sensations that go along with that, it could be a little overwhelming.”
Was I starting to sound like a wingnut? Seriously. Vibes? Spectral auras? Oh yeah, wingnut city. Because I was my mother’s daughter, after all.
I waved the words away. “Never mind.”
“I won’t discount your feelings, darling. I feel the same way. After all, my mother is right there with yours, having traveled an astral path or two as well.”
“Oh boy,” I muttered. Yes, Meg was just as much of a hippie-dippie wingnut as Mom. It was one of the reasons they had bonded together so nicely from the start. And only one of the reasons why both women were so completely loved.
“To be honest,” he added, “I find that a comfort.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re going through it together,” he said. “They’re good friends. I think they’ll bring even more strength to each other because of it.”
I lifted his hand and kissed it. “I didn’t think of that, but you’re right. Thanks.”
Still, there were a hundred different scenarios whirling around in my brain. I just had to hope that Derek really was right, that Meg and Mom were feeling more secure because they were experiencing this horrible event together.
I frowned. Actually, knowing the two of them, they might even consider it an adventure. They had probably opened a bottle of champagne by now.
Derek expertly maneuvered the car up and down the roads until we reached the Lane. Three blocks later, he turned right onto Berkeley Circle and came to a stop in front of the town hall.
“No police cars yet,” I said, glancing every which way. “And no Gabriel.”
“
We beat them all here.”
“That might be a good thing.”
“It is. I want a chance to talk to my mother and yours before the police take over the scene.”
“I just hope the dead person isn’t Jacob Banyan,” I murmured.
“Honestly?” Derek wondered as we jumped out of the car. “I can think of no one more deserving. And it seems that almost everyone in town would like to see him dead.”
“I’ll admit I wouldn’t be too sad to find out that the victim is Banyan,” I explained. “But if it is him, I’m afraid Mom will be the number one suspect.”
He threw his arm across my shoulders and pulled me close. “Good point. Although, try to remember that the man doesn’t have many friends in Dharma.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said quickly. “I don’t want it to be anyone else, either.”
“Of course not.”
“But jeez, Banyan and Mom had that huge argument in front of the entire festival committee. And then there was that confrontation on the Lane just a few hours ago. There had to be a bunch of people watching that happen.”
“Plenty of witnesses,” Derek murmured.
“Exactly.” I instantly recalled the entire ugly scene. “And some of those witnesses aren’t going to keep their mouths shut, if you know what I mean.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
I didn’t say the name Saffron Bergeron, but we both knew who I was talking about. Even though she hadn’t been around when Banyan confronted Mom on the street, I knew Saffron would hear about it through the small-town grapevine and be perfectly happy to spread the gossip. She might even go so far as to accuse Mom of the crime.
We dashed from the car into the building.
Despite what I was wishing for, I had to prepare myself for the inevitability that the dead body in the conference room simply had to be Jacob Banyan. He was so horrible to so many people, it was a wonder he hadn’t been murdered long before this. Someone had clearly decided that his time had come. He had to be stopped.
I wouldn’t say that he deserved to die, necessarily, but Banyan had pushed and pushed until someone had pushed back, to deadly effect.
And again, I couldn’t be sorry he was dead, except for the fact that my own mother and Meg had stumbled over his body and that the police might believe that my mom was involved in his death.
I shivered once more at that dreary thought and had to rub my arms.
“Are you cold?”
“No, just freaking out a little.”
“I don’t blame you.” Derek stroked my back as we moved quickly across the wide main hall of the building. He grabbed my hand. “Let’s get in there and see what we can do.”
We ran to the hallway and saw the door of the festival-committee conference room wide open. Other doors were open, as well, and I wondered where Mom and Meg were waiting.
“Oh God.” Something else I didn’t want to think about. “They wouldn’t still be waiting inside the same room as the body, would they?”
“They would’ve moved to another room,” Derek said, sounding sure of himself.
“I hope you’re right.”
“Mother,” Derek shouted. “Rebecca. Where are you?”
“Mom? Meg?” I called.
“Here,” my mom cried. I spun around to see her run out of another room farther down the hall. She dashed toward us and grabbed me in a tight hug.
“Are you all right?” I asked, leaning back to take a good look at her. She looked . . . hmm. Excited? No, that would be weird. Maybe overstimulated was a better way to say it. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were almost twinkling. Was she pretending to be okay for my sake?
“We’re fine,” she insisted, but she was breathless. “Really, we’re good. Meg and me, I mean. Super good. Holy moly, Brooklyn. This is crazy. Insane. Can you believe it?”
She was blathering, I realized. She must’ve been beside herself with fear and had worked herself into a near panic.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely, sweetie.”
This was not the reaction I’d expected. Yes, Mom was strong, but finding a dead body wasn’t an easy thing, as I knew all too well. I’d thought that I would have to console her, and here she was looking as if she’d scored front row seats to a Grateful Dead concert.
She smiled to reassure me, but how could I trust anything she was saying? She had to be in shock.
Meg had followed Mom up the hall and Derek wrapped his arms around her. She patted his back as if she were the one soothing him. “We’re quite fine, dear. No need to worry.”
I noted that Meg’s cheeks were flushed and her face looked a bit clammy. Oh God. Did Meg have high blood pressure? I hoped she hadn’t passed out.
“Good heavens,” she said, pressing her hands to her chest. “I had no idea.”
“No idea about what?” I asked.
“Well, about finding a dead body. It’s so . . .” Meg scratched her head, clearly searching for words.
“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing her arm. “I know what you’re going through.”
“Of course you do,” she said, then her eyes widened and she laughed. “Yes, of course, Brooklyn. That’s why we called you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“But I must admit that while we were waiting,” she said, “we got so involved in trying to figure it all out, that it slipped my mind that this sort of thing happens to you on a regular basis.”
“Brooklyn’s an old hand at this murder game,” Mom said, winking at me.
I stared at both of them, then looked at Derek. He looked as flummoxed as I felt, because I was pretty sure that they were enjoying themselves.
“Where’s the body?” he asked. “The police will be here any minute and I’d like to see where it happened before they get here.”
“Oh, good point,” Mom said, and turned to Meg. “Derek is so smart.”
“I couldn’t be prouder,” Meg said, reaching up to pat his cheek.
Mom turned back to Derek and me. “The body’s here in the committee room.”
We followed them back up the hall. Despite the initial shock, the two of them were handling themselves pretty well, all things considered. It made me even more convinced that it was Jacob Banyan who was dead, mainly because Mom wasn’t overwrought about it.
Of course, she might’ve been feeling relieved now, but she would have to deal with the horror later. She would probably relive that moment of discovering the dead body many times over the next few days, and maybe even longer than that. I hated to think that could be the case.
“It’s just so sad,” Mom said, and took my arm as we approached the room. “I never really knew what you went through when you found all those poor dead people. But now that I’ve been through it myself, I have more respect for you than ever, if that’s possible.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I think.
“Here we go,” Mom said, and swung her arm out as if she were introducing a new guest on a talk show. Good grief.
“Yes, indeed,” Meg added jovially. “There’s your body. Oh, and you two should know, we didn’t touch it.”
“I hope not,” Derek muttered.
All I could think was that our mothers made a great team.
Yes, indeed. I stared at the body sprawled on the floor. He was a large man wearing a gray hoodie and baggy black jeans. His arms were extended straight out as if he had been making a swan dive. The thought of that—and the reality of it—was grotesque and awful. There was so much blood.
Why did there always have to be blood? Couldn’t we stumble across a poisoning once in a while? My head began to pound, and I had to breathe slowly and deeply as my eyelids fluttered and I groaned. “Oh no.”
Derek grabbed me. “No, you don’t. Just look away, love. You’ll be all right.”
“Sit down,” Derek ordered, and basically pushed me down into a chair.
“Okay, okay,” I whispered.
“Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m not going to faint, I promise.” At least, that was what I mentally told myself in a very sternly worded speech. But really, why did there have to be blood?
“Wait here, love.” Derek kissed the top of my head as if I were a well-behaved four-year-old. I opened my eyes and watched him walk toward the body, being careful of where he stepped. He wouldn’t want to destroy any evidence, I knew, but definitely wanted to see how Banyan had died. As he got closer, he bent down to get a good look at the dead man’s face.
In an instant he turned and stared at me.
“What?” I said. “What is it?”
“It’s not Banyan,” he said flatly. “It’s Lawson Schmidt.”
* * *
• • •
Derek had closed the committee room door and shepherded us down the hall to a room where there were no dead bodies. And that was where we waited for the police to arrive. Instead of a business-like conference room, this room was furnished with several couches and chairs arranged around a coffee table. Bookshelves lined two walls and magazines were neatly fanned out across the end tables.
The room was clearly intended to be used as a quiet reading room. I thought it was lovely that we had such a pleasant spot in which to wait until the police were ready to grill us.
My stomach and I were doing much better, now that I wasn’t in the same room with poor, dead Lawson. And thinking of him, I turned to my mother. “Mom, why didn’t you tell us the victim was Lawson?”
“Didn’t I mention it?” She looked at Meg and they both frowned. “Isn’t that odd?”