Part 5 (2/2)
”Dad!” I snapped. ”I know you and Aunt Fee like to bait each other, but that was a rotten thing to say.”
”Bound or not,” he said, ”Fiona Sullivan packs a wallop.”
Had I caught a touch of respect in his tone?
Dad tried to help us untie her but Aunt Fiona wouldn't let him near her.
”My deepest apologies, Fiona,” he said, standing back. ”That was unforgivable of me.”
She growled beneath the duct tape and indicated, with snapping, angry eyes, that he would be better off if she stayed tied up.
”Are you all right, Eve?” I asked as she paced beside the casket.
She shook her head, looking a bit green. I'd never known Eve to be out of words.
”You're sick over finding Sampson, aren't you?”
She gave a half nod, her eyes bright.
I hugged her. ”Stick around and we'll talk, 'kay? Been there. Done that. Hated it.”
She blotted her eyes with the back of a hand, pulled herself together, and tried to help us.
”Poor Aunt Fiona,” I said, tugging on the tightly knotted clothesline. Judging by the scuff marks on the casket lid, it looked like she might have been closed inside for a while, but she fought a good fight.
Eve gasped, shook her head, and whipped out a pocket-knife. ”Sorry, I was distracted.” Having the rope cut helped move things along.
Fiona sat up as quickly as possible, even before her legs were free.
I winced when she began to remove the tape, though she removed it slowly and only ended up with a split lip. I'd feared it would be much worse. ”Dad, you have to lift her out.”
”First, she has to promise not to knee me.”
Fiona touched her jaw, exercised it, and raised her brow. ”No promises.”
Dad shook his head and bent over to lift her out anyway, brave man.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a stealthy movement in the storage room. ”Stop!” I shouted and ran, in time to find an intruder straddling a window with a sack in his hand.
He threw the sack out the window.
”Vinney!” Eve yelled from behind me. ”Don't. You'll hurt yourself,” but he dropped from sight.
Eve and I ran to the window and looked down, but that fast, he'd disappeared. ”Are you sure that was Vinney?” I asked. ”Your Vinney?”
”Yes. No. I don't know.”
”Vinney or not, I wonder if he could have been the same guy who broke in earlier?”
”It's possible,” Eve said.
Probable, I thought, feeling personally bruised. My building and the vision I had of its future had been violated. I turned to take in the room, looking for answers, for a reason that Vinney, or anyone, would do such a thing.
What had he put in the sack? Had he taken something valuable? Whatever it was, it would have shattered on impact, unless it was soft and pliable. If you wanted something badly enough to steal it, I couldn't imagine that you'd want to break it.
”d.a.m.n,” I said. ”The guy wouldn't have gotten in, if not for the fire.
Eve shook her head. ”Vinney might steal something, but I don't think he'd shut someone in a casket.” She rubbed her arms and raised her chin. ”Besides, I'm not sure it was Vinney.”
Was she protesting too much? I wanted to share my theory with my father, but he and Fiona were arguing, years of animosity stiffening their stances, though they kept their voices low. This was the longest conversation they'd had since my mother died. And as long as Aunt Fiona was in fighting mode, she wasn't freaking over being shut in a casket.
Who knew, they just might clear the air between them.
”I'm probably just overthinking the situation,” I told Eve. ”Call it panic.”
Bottom lip between her teeth, she gave me an imperceptible nod.
I picked up my cat, sighed, and rubbed my chin against her fur. ”I'd like to know what the guy took, though.” I looked around the storage room and noticed for the first time the gla.s.s-fronted top of a cabinet with stainless-steel instruments lined up on its gla.s.s shelves. Embalming instruments? I shuddered. Oy.
Dante appeared beside me, and Chakra howled my name, though perhaps not as loud as she had the first time she saw him. I opened the single cabinet drawer, between the top and base of the cabinet, and shuffled through the papers inside.
”Good,” Dante said. ”You need to go through them. There's an important packet in there for Dolly.”
I sorted through until he pointed to Dolly's. I took the large envelope and put it in my purse. Then I rummaged through a closet full of vintage clothes, dresses, suits, tuxedos, and big black ostrich feathers. ”Huh?”
”To dress the dead and outfit the undertakers,” Dante said. ”The black plumes were for the horses pulling the hea.r.s.e.”
I nodded. Of course; I'd seen pictures. Elsewhere in the room, I found trunks, urns, vases, spittoons, junk, beautiful and ugly, and some valuable antiques, too many things to identify. But I kept turning back to the body drawers. At fifth, or tenth, glance, I noticed a new imperfection in their alignment.
”Eve, the bottom right body drawer is crooked, and there's something bright sticking out the side that wasn't there before the fire.”
”You're right,” she said. ”The drawers were even before. Should we call the police now?”
”The Wiener didn't exactly welcome our presence across the street a little while ago. And if we call, we'll have to spill about the earlier break-in.”
”Right.”
Besides, I wanted to talk to Dante first. He must have seen what happened in here while we were gone, and he might know who did it. But I couldn't talk to him until he and I were alone.
I held Chakra closer and began to tremble against a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. ”Why would someone rob a body drawer?”
Ten.
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