Outside, the conifers and baby white ash mingled in the midnight breeze. The ride was appallingly short; as it turned out, Kendall’s house of horrors was only forty-five minutes from the harbor. On the way to the cabin, he had driven me around in circles for more than two hours to try to confuse me. It had worked pretty well and I felt deeply stupid.
“Caesar told me they would kill his ex-wife if he didn’t follow their orders,” I said, my voice rattling with the road.
Mettle took a hand off the steering wheel long enough to pat my knee. “I’ll send a team to watch over her. Maybe that’ll put Caesar on our good side and get him to talk.”
“You mean if he can talk.”
“I didn’t hit any vital organs.”
“Except for his spine.”
“He lost that a long time ago,” Mettle said. “As soon as he’s vertical again, he’s going to have a lot of questions to answer.”
“Unless Kendall kept him in the dark.”
Mettle exhaled. “True. For a man with enough gel in his hair to make a pair of jelly sandals, Kendall was a lot smarter than he looked. There’s no way he’ll talk, not after what was done to Phyllis and Dimitri.”
I went back to watching the trees. Barring some miracle, I feared we were no closer to finding our puppet master—whomever he was.
We pulled into my driveway. The Apache was occupying the main spot and Mettle had to park with his bumper hanging out into the road.
“Maybe you want to pull onto the grass?”
“And miss the chance for a truck to come around the bend and total this P.O.S.? No way. I had hoped the screwdriver would do the trick, but they just replaced the lock cylinder. They gave Billygoat a Mustang for crying out loud. The whole grille lights up.”
“Lucky him,” I said.
Inside, Eldritch was sound asleep on the couch. In my absence, he had done a commendable job of watching over the place and taking care of the mob of zero guests who had visited in my absence. If he and I were going to make this place solvent, we were going to have to do some serious restructuring—beginning with a press release addressing all the negative comments on the website. It was time to push back.
I shook Eldritch’s shoulder. “You okay?”
Eldritch roused. He raised an eyelid, recognized me, and yawned. “What time is it?”
“A little after one in the morning.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Much better.”
Eldritch sat up and rubbed his face. He glanced at Mettle. “I can’t believe I slept so late.”
“You mean so early?”
“What time is it again?”
“Why don’t you go home?” I said. “Get yourself some decent rest. After fifty years on the night shift, you’re not ready to sleep when it’s dark.”
“I’ll get used to it,” Eldritch said. He stood wobbly, gave me a pat on the shoulder, and hobbled for the door.
“Drive safe,” I said.
After the door closed, Mettle sat down on the couch and said, “He’s not driving that heap of junk, is he? There’s no way that passed inspection.”
“It’s stronger than it looks,” I said. “Would you, um, like to sleep upstairs? It’s a lot more comfortable.”
Mettle patted the couch. “I’d like to stay watch down here if it’s okay with you. We don’t know what kind of repercussions our little sting operation might have had. Plus, Eldritch kept it nice and warm.”
I frowned. “Whichever makes you comfortable.”
Mettle grinned. “Besides, you stink, Casket. You smell like a swamp threw up on a drunken hobo.”
“Whatever,” I said. I turned and headed to the stairs to take a shower. As quickly as a weather vane changing direction in a hurricane, Mettle was back to his old self, crass and cocky.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at him. Mettle had laid back on the couch.
“You know, for a moment there, I thought death had been kind to you, maybe put things in perspective,” I said. “But I was totally wrong. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Mettle nodded, considering. “I don’t know if you noticed on Kendall’s video, but right before this whole episode, I asked your foster father to change my will.”
“You’re right, I didn’t notice anything.”
“That’s too bad,” Mettle said, putting his hands behind his head and kicking his feet up on the arm of the couch. “I asked him for a rosy-red casket.”
Thankfully, my phone had survived the rain. The next morning, I went downstairs and Mettle was still asleep on the couch. He had skipped his morning workout and was breathing heavily, but not snoring.
I sat at the kitchen table and swiped through my contacts to Eldritch’s number.
He picked up his landline on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Last night, I dreamt that you and I were working together. In the wake of Herrick’s absence, I dreamt we hosted this giant extravaganza and we invited all the local businesses to improve our reputation and court a mutual partnership. Through this whole mess, I realized I really can’t do everything here by myself. Besides, I could use a good watchman, someone who will help keep the knives out of my back. Do you have any interest in being my official business partner?”
Eldritch didn’t hesitate. “I think that’s a great idea, Red. It would be an honor to work with you. Count me in.”
“Fantastic. We’ll get together later this week to go over the details,” I said.
After saying bye, I hung up and set my phone down on the table, a giant smile spreading to my ears. But then my eyes landed on the antique armchair by the fireplace and my smile faded.
I picked up my phone again, swiped through my photo album, and pulled up the photo of Chrissy tied to the chair. I zoomed on the chair’s feet and then I got up and
