In the Event of My Death (18 page)

“Laurel, for heaven’s sake, why are you being so stubborn? You know your father and I can’t come back. Claudia needs us—”

“I know she does. I want you to stay in Florida with her. But my place is here.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to argue and I can’t go into all the details, but I won’t be coming for Christmas.”

“Do you know how worried I’m going to be about you?”

“
Don’t
worry.”

“That’s easy to say. As if Hal and I don’t have enough on our minds with Claudia and all the squabbling she’s been doing with your father. I don’t know what’s come over her. I also don’t know when the baby is coming.” Her mother sounded as if she were going to cry. “Laurel, I think you’re being incredibly inconsiderate.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but I’m doing what I need to do. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

When she hung up, Laurel murmured, “I only hope that’s a promise I can keep.”

3

Laurel called Norma. “Do you still have the spare key to the back door of the store?”

“Certainly. You don’t think I’d lose a store key, do you?”

“No. I don’t know why I even asked. I don’t suppose you’ve heard about Denise Price, have you?”

“No. Who is she?”

“She is…was a friend of mine. She was murdered last night.”

“
What?
” Norma squawked. “Murdered!”

“Yes. I don’t want to go into details right now, but could you and Penny handle the store for me this morning? I was up all night and I just don’t think I can make it.”

“Of course you can’t! Oh, Laurel, I’m so sorry. First Angela Ricci and now this lady. Lord, Lord, what is this world coming to?”

“I don’t know, Norma, I really don’t know.”

“Well, you stay home and get some rest. Penny and I can handle everything
all
day.”

“I can’t thank you enough. I can tell you that after the first of the year I intend to give everyone raises.”

“Oh, honey, that’s not necessary,” Norma said, but she sounded pleased. “You take care of yourself today and don’t worry about one thing at the store.”

Laurel wouldn’t have to force herself not to think of the store. At the moment the running of Damron Floral seemed like one of the least important things in her life. Her main concern was trying to prevent more murders.

“And how do you intend to do that, Wonder Woman?” she asked herself sarcastically. The idea that she—shy, quiet, troubled Laurel Damron who had run home from college to hide behind the counter of her father’s floral business—could root out and expose a killer seemed ludicrous, the stuff of young teenage dreams. But what was her alternative? To flee to Florida? To slink around in fear until the murderer got her or Crystal?

No. It was time to emerge from her carefully constructed shell and face not only the past but the future. She could no longer live with the feeling that people had died because of what she should have done, what she
could
have done if she’d only had the nerve.

An hour later she was dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater. As she pulled on a jacket, she decided to take the dogs with her. Leashes attached, they trundled through the snow to the car.

Laurel didn’t know why she had an overwhelming desire to see the Pritchard barn. She’d gone by it several times since the night Faith died, each time wondering why the owners left it standing. The fire that night would have completely destroyed it if the sleet hadn’t been so heavy and the wood already damp from all the snow. The family who owned the farm let the wreckage stand, although each year took its toll on the structure. Five years ago the family moved away. They’d never had any luck with the place, nor had anyone else who’d owned the farm since the early Pritchards. Each year everything from unusually heavy spring rains to midsummer heat waves and droughts to hordes of destructive insects mined the crops. Laurel didn’t believe it would ever be used as a farm again. A few years from now it would probably be the site of a shopping mall.

As she drove down the rutted road she and the other Six of Hearts had traveled that awful night thirteen years ago, she remembered the tales she’d heard about the Pritchard farm all her life. Supposedly right before she was hanged, as she stood with the noose around her neck with the preacher entreating her to repent, Esmé Dubois cursed not only the people who’d found her guilty of witchcraft, but the land and everyone who set foot upon it. Strangely enough, during the nearly three hundred years following Esmé’s death, the inhabitants of the farm had suffered an unusually large number of deaths and accidents. In the mid-1800’s there had even been a murder when the owner found a field hand making love to his daughter. He’d stabbed the field hand to death with a pitchfork. The girl, it was whispered at the time, had a miscarriage and ran away, never to be heard from again. The owner spent the next twenty years in prison while his wife and three young sons lost the farm and ended up destitute. In the 1930’s the four-year-old son of a farmer riding the tractor with his father fell backward, landing under the set of razor-sharp disks. In the sixties a man had caught his coat sleeve in a corner husker and been pulled into the machine. Hours later his young wife found the shredded remains of his body and nearly lost her mind with grief.

A place of death, that was the Pritchard farm. The darkness started with the deaths of the Pritchard children blamed on Esmé Dubois and ended…She thought of Faith, but the darkness didn’t end with Faith’s death. The darkness still lingered over everyone who came in contact with the farm, especially the barn. It certainly still lingered over the Six of Hearts, who’d sneaked out here when they were heedless teenagers and dabbled in the occult.

Laurel had never really believed in the power of the occult, not when she was young and they were playing Monica’s games, not even now. Still, the history of the Pritchard farm could have a powerful effect on a more impressionable mind than hers, maybe so powerful it would lure someone into making it look as if Faith were reaching beyond the grave, using a living agent to avenge her death.

She pulled as near to the barn as possible and coaxed the dogs from the car. She held their leashes, even though she knew it wasn’t necessary. In strange territory, the dogs would stay as close to her as possible.

She crunched through the snow, looking at the landscape. Snow dusted the trees, every limb covered with white, looking lacy against a low pewter sky. A few evergreens drooped beneath the weight of the snow, and in the distance Canadian geese floated peacefully on a big pond as if the weather were a pleasant seventy degrees.

The remains of the old barn loomed ahead, snow piled on its peaked roof, the rough, unpainted boards of its walls dismal and neglected. She could barely see the farmhouse in the distance, but she felt as if she were being watched from it. That was quite possible. Abandoned so long, it had surely become a haven for vagrants. She didn’t worry about them in the barn—no one would choose to live in that half-destroyed building with its dirt floor when they could stay in the house, even if the house had no heat or running water and most of the windows were broken. A slight mist hung over the farm, making the air heavy, threatening more snow by afternoon. A sharp wind blew up, tossing her curly hair to one side and making her shiver. She could never remember seeing a more desolate place than the Pritchard farm. It seemed unreal, like something out of a frightening fantasy.

Laurel stopped in her tracks. What was she doing out here? What had drawn her to this place? The unlikely notion that because the trouble had started here, the solution lay here, too? Had her resolution in the long, shadowy hours of night to find the murderer eclipsed her good judgment, her sense of reality? Maybe it wasn’t even safe to be out here alone. She reached in her pocket and felt the canister of Mace. It wasn’t very reassuring. She’d never considered buying a gun and two weeks ago would have said the idea was ridiculous. Now it didn’t seem ridiculous at all. With a murderer on the loose, it certainly made more sense than exploring with Mace and two timid dogs.

April and Alex seemed to read her thoughts and agree. She had to pull on the leashes to get the dogs into the barn, where they pressed against her legs for reassurance.

Laurel looked around. Near the front of the barn only a few hand-hewn supporting posts, charred and gray, stood alone. She walked farther into the barn, pulling the dogs along. Stalls where long-dead animals had once spent their nights still stood, filthy and stripped of even the smell of cows and horses. Snow feathered through holes in the roof. An ancient pitchfork leaned against a wall. Was it the one the farmer had used to kill the field hand so long ago? Laurel wondered. Had the young couple been found here, in this barn? Near the pitchfork lay a moldering blanket. From behind it she saw a rat watching her closely. God, how many more of them were in here? Maybe hundreds.

She was turning to go when something caught her eye. A bale of straw sat in the middle of the floor. Faith had stood on one just like it. Instinctively Laurel looked up, then gasped.

A hangman’s noose dangled from a tie beam—a noose fashioned from new rope.

Suddenly the dogs began barking uproariously. Several pigeons flapped noisily up from the loft, flying crazily under the roof, looking for escape holes. The rat and two of its friends skittered across the floor, heading straight for Laurel. She let out a strangled cry and whirled.

Ten feet behind her stood Neil Kamrath.

“Neil!” Laurel managed in a tone at least an octave higher than normal. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same question.” He walked toward her and, to her surprise, both dogs stood firm. Alex actually growled. “Am I about to be attacked?”

“I’m not sure.” Laurel was certain he was in no danger, but it was best not to say so. “I just felt an urge to look at this place. I don’t know why.”

“Me, too.” Neil wore jeans and a suede jacket. He calmly lit a cigarette while her heart trip-hammered. Had he followed her here? There was no one to help her if he meant to do her harm. She tried to casually put her hand in her pocket for the canister of Mace. Dammit. The lid wasn’t even off. She could be dead before she got it out of her pocket, uncapped it, and pointed in the direction of his eyes.

She looked around. “There were rats running right toward us.”

“They’re hiding now. This place must be filled with them. Rats
will
attack, but not unless they’re cornered.” He looked up at the noose. “I suppose you saw this.” Laurel was having trouble getting her breath. “What do you make of it?”

“I don’t know. The rope is new.”

“It’s a threat, Laurel.”

She looked at him steadily. “To whom? Who could know I’d come out here?”

“Maybe it wasn’t directed at you. Maybe it was meant for Crystal or Monica.”

“Crystal is too frightened to come here. I don’t think Monica is haunted by this place. She wouldn’t come.” He took a puff of his cigarette and she said, “You followed me here, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” He looked neither embarrassed nor menacing. “I had a feeling you might come here after Denise’s murder.”

“How did you hear about that? It happened too late to make the morning newspaper.”

“I heard at the diner where I had breakfast. I don’t have all the details, but I do know she was killed like Angie. Beaten to death.”

Laurel nodded. “A horrible way to die.”

“Are there any good ways?”

He seemed so calm, talking softly, smoking nonchalantly. Dangerous or not, suddenly she was wildly irritated with him. “Why did you follow me?” she blurted. “So you could see my reaction to the rope?”

He looked genuinely surprised. “You think
I
put that up there?” Laurel was silent. “God, I believed you were one of the few people in town who don’t think I’m a wacko, but I see I was wrong.”

Oh, no, Laurel thought. The last thing she needed to do was make him angry. “I don’t think you’re a wacko—”

“Don’t explain. If I were in your place, I’d be scared, too.” He dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his shoe. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Laurel. In fact, I followed you out here because it’s not safe for you to be in this secluded place by yourself considering all that’s going on. Now that I’ve seen the noose, I know I was right to come. Whoever killed Angie and Denise has been out here.”

Laurel swallowed. “So you came here to protect me?”

He smiled. “I’m not the scrawny, helpless kid you knew in school. I’m no superhero, but I’m a great shot and I’m pretty good at boxing and karate.” He paused. “Does Kurt know you’re out here?”

She hesitated. Should she lie and say yes? She still didn’t know how safe she was around Neil. Her hesitation answered his question, though. “He doesn’t.”

The edges of Laurel’s teeth touched together. What did that mean? That Neil felt free to do whatever he wanted, knowing she might not be found for days?

“I think we’d better get out of here,” he said as if reading her mind. “This place gives me the creeps and that noose tells me it’s definitely not a place we should be.”

“Yes.” Laurel heard the relief in her voice. She was sure he heard it, too. “I should go home.”

“Laurel, I really need to talk to you.” She glanced at him warily. “Would you consider meeting me at McDonald’s for a cup of coffee?”

Well, there was certainly nothing threatening about that suggestion. But still…“I have the dogs with me. They panic when I leave them alone in the car.”

Neil glanced at them. “I’m sure you don’t want to invite me home for coffee. I don’t blame you. We’ll get coffee at the drive-thru window, then I’ll join you in your car in the parking lot where you’re in view of dozens of people. Okay?”

What did he want to talk about? Denise’s death? Faith? Curiosity overrode her desire to get away from him. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll walk you to your car. I’m parked right behind you.”

Quite a bit of deserted land to cover with a man she was afraid had murdered Denise last night. But what choice did she have? As they crossed the stubbly field leading to the road, Laurel couldn’t shake the feeling that someone in the house watched them. After a moment she asked, “Did you see anyone around the farmhouse when you drove up?”

The wind blew his sandy hair across his forehead, making him look younger. When he was in school, his parents made him cut it so short she never realized it had natural wave. “I didn’t see anyone, but I have the feeling someone is in there. I’ve heard some of what my grandfather would call hobos take refuge in the house during winter.”

“Yes,” Laurel said vaguely.

“But that’s not what you’re worried about, is it? You’re afraid the person who put up that noose is in the house.” Laurel nodded. “Do you want to go check it out?”

“No!” Wait, she thought. What happened to her determination to find the killer? That determination didn’t include going into a deserted house with one of her suspects, she thought. “I’m cold and God knows what we’ll find in there. It could be the person who put up the noose, or it could be several vagrants who’d gang up on us.”

Neil grinned. “You’re not a liberal who believes the homeless are just hapless victims of the system who don’t mean anyone any harm?”

“I’m sure many of them are. I’m also sure some would slit your throat for a dollar. I don’t like to think in generalizations.”

“Very wise, Laurel. Generalizations can get you in trouble. So can thinking you can solve all problems by yourself, no matter how serious they are.”

Laurel looked at him sharply. “Are you referring to anything in particular?”

“A couple of things.” He pointed. “There are the cars. Meet you in ten minutes.”

April and Alex were grateful to climb onto their warm blanket in the back seat. Alex, with his short hair, was shivering.

Neil had already maneuvered a turn and was heading away from the farm by the time Laurel got behind the wheel. Was she making a mistake by meeting him? she wondered. No. They would be in a public parking lot and she might learn something important from him.

When she reached McDonald’s, she ordered coffee for herself and Chicken McNuggets for the dogs. She pulled into a space. While she poured creamer into the hot coffee, Neil tapped on her window. She motioned for him to get in.

“McNugget fans?” he asked as Laurel fed bits of the chicken to the dogs.

“Fans of just about everything. I try to watch their diet carefully, but every once in a while they need a treat.”

“What are their names?”

“The long-haired one is April. The other is her brother, Alex.”

“She’s beautiful. He’s cute. He’s also got a powerful set of jaws.”

“I know. Dr. Ricci thinks there must be some pit bull in his background. It’s always hard to tell with mixed breeds, especially when there are different fathers involved, as in this case.”

“My son Robbie had a dog. A mixed breed. Apollo. Robbie was crazy about him.”

“Do you still have him?”

Neil took a quick drink of his coffee and stared straight ahead. “No. He was killed in the car wreck. When Robbie was lingering, so burned, in such pain, he kept asking about Apollo.” A wry, bitter smile twisted his lips. “He asked more about Apollo than his mother. I told him the dog was fine. I lied to my son on his deathbed.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Laurel said softly.

“Maybe the only right thing I did for a long time.” His face hardened. “Ellen and I were separated at the time of the wreck. If we hadn’t been and I’d been driving….”

“There could still have been an accident.”

“She was an alcoholic, Laurel. That’s why we separated. I wouldn’t put up with her drinking anymore.”

“So you left her?”

“No. She kicked me out because I kept nagging her to get into rehab. I should have taken Robbie with me when I went. Instead I left him in her hands and look what happened. She was driving drunk. At least she died instantly. As usual, everything was easy for her. But poor Robbie…” His voice thickened and Laurel sensed not only his great sorrow but his anger. He sounded as if he hated Ellen. She probably would too if their positions were reversed.

“Neil…”

“I’m sorry,” he said curtly. “I didn’t ask you to meet me so I could pour out my troubles.” She sensed the Herculean effort he was putting forth to pull himself together. “I wanted to talk to you about Angie’s and Denise’s murders.”

“All right, but answer one thing for me first. How did you know I might go to the Pritchard farm this morning?”

“You’re still uneasy about my following you, aren’t you?”

She looked directly into his eyes. “Wouldn’t you be uneasy if someone were following you?”

“Yes. But let me explain. I haven’t been following you until today. It’s just that you’re the only one I can talk to about all this—Faith, the unborn baby, the whole thing. You told me about the weird stuff found at Angie’s murder scene pertaining to the Six of Hearts. When I heard about Denise’s murder this morning, I came to your house to talk to you. Then I was worried I might frighten you, turning up at your door so early when you don’t know me well and you live alone. I pulled off the road and was thinking about just waiting and catching you at work when you pulled out of your driveway and headed in the opposite direction from the store. I had this strange feeling you were going to the farm, and I knew you shouldn’t be out there alone. After I saw that noose in the barn, I knew I’d done the right thing by not letting you go out there alone.”

The explanation sounded plausible. His voice sounded sincere. The expression in his eyes was earnest. Laurel decided to believe him.

“All right, Neil. I understand. But I’m sure I don’t know much more about Denise’s murder than you do.”

“Was there a six and a heart and a tarot card?”

“Yes. That much I do know.”

“Damn. Not much doubt about a connection, then, is there?”

“I’m afraid not.”

He stared ahead, quiet for a moment. “Did you talk to Mary about the locket?”

“Yes. She admitted that she lied to you. She said her father wouldn’t let Faith wear it. She always put it on
after
she left the house. He would never have allowed her to be buried with it, even if it hadn’t disappeared a week before she died.”

“Disappeared?” he repeated skeptically. “That’s convenient.”

“I know. Faith never said anything to me about losing her locket.”

Neil reached for two McNuggets and gave one to each of the dogs. April took hers delicately. Alex nearly relieved Neil of a forefinger and thumb. Laurel was surprised when he laughed. It was a deep, heartfelt laugh that chased the sadness from his eyes. “You don’t fool around, do you, Alex?”

“He’s never certain where the next meal is coming from.”

“I’m sure that’s a valid worry. They look neglected.” Neil took a drink of his coffee. “Did you learn anything else from Mary?”

“Well, yes, something really interesting. She said Faith communicated with her mother by letters until the time of her death. Zeke wouldn’t allow communication, so someone rented a post office box for Faith.”

“The Lewis sisters.”

Laurel gaped. “The
Lewis
sisters!”

He nodded. “Didn’t you know they’re Genevra’s aunts?”

“Genevra’s
aunts
. Faith never said a word to me about that.”

“She didn’t mean to tell me. She was drunk on wine at the time.”

“Drunk!”

He looked at her and smiled. “You thought the night she died was the first time she’d had alcohol, right? Wrong. We were the typical repressed teens, Laurel. We drank, we smoked, we had sex. We probably would have done drugs if we could have afforded them. But she wouldn’t have wanted you to know all that. Your opinion was too important to her.”

“Why didn’t she ever tell me about the Lewis sisters?”

“Zeke didn’t want her having anything to do with them. She tried to keep the relationship a secret and so did they, to protect her.”

“But she never even said anything about writing to her mother!”

“She was scared to death someone would tell Zeke.”

“Me? She thought
I
would tell Zeke? That’s crazy.”

Neil shrugged. “Laurel, you were her best friend, I was her boyfriend and wildly in love with her, but I wonder how well either of us really knew Faith. She lived in a world of secrets. I don’t suppose you have any idea who the father of that baby could have been.”

“I’ve wracked my brain, Neil.” She didn’t tell him she still wasn’t sure he was telling the truth about being sterile. “Faith and I talked about boys all the time—you know how teenage girls are—but she
never
mentioned an involvement, or even a crush on another boy.”

Neil looked into his cup. “I’ve wondered if…well, Zeke is such a nut and Faith was so beautiful…”

Laurel’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, you don’t mean incest! Neil, that’s revolting!”

“But possible.”

“
No
.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, what am I talking about? I don’t know.” She opened her eyes and looked at him intensely. “But there is someone who might.”

“Mary?”

“No. Genevra Howard.”

“Faith’s mother? But we have no idea where she is. I never did. She might even be dead.”

“She’s not dead. She’s very much alive and in Wheeling. At least she was yesterday. Neil, she stood beside me at Angie’s funeral.”