P Deutermann - Nightwalkers

"I promised the sheriff he would run that side of it. This Callendar guy is his prime suspect in an open homicide. We bag him, some liberal judge will just have to throw it out. No, what I want to do is get him out of that house for one last play session."

"You think he knows Cubby's talked?"

"I told the deputy to tell Patience that Cubby checked himself into the ER because his ear infection wasn't getting any better. I also told him to get her to use her car to go get him, as opposed to going in the cruiser. So right now, she'll think the cops think it's still just an earache."

"How about the fact that a cop car came with that news?"

"He knows Patience. They're neighbors. He made some shit up about being in the ER for another problem and talking to Cubby, who was on eternal hold at the front desk while they took care of last night's cutting and gutting."

"The sheriff can't just go get a search warrant and go through the big house here?"

"He apparently feels he can't," I said. "I don't know-maybe the judge in town is yet another Lee, Hester's brother or something."

"So what he really wants is for you to front him."

"Yeah, I think so. I told you, he suggested I run for sheriff out here because he's going to retire. This may be his way of showing me how shit really works in this county."

"Ah, the lovely countryside," he warbled. "Where fangs are long and the maws are wide."

"Yeah, well, I think I'll go make a call on Ms. Valeria Lee. Hold the fort here. If I don't come back, call the sheriff."

"Don't come back?"

I looked up the hill toward the big house. For the first time, even in the daylight, it looked just a bit sinister.

There was no doorbell near the front door, so reluctantly I lifted the heavy knocker and let it drop twice. It sounded like the crack of doom on the huge door. I knew that Patience wasn't there, so one of the ladies would have to answer, assuming they would perform such a menial action.

It took almost two minutes, and I was just about to knock again when I heard footsteps approaching in the hall. The door opened and Valeria stood there. She was in costume, with a pair of antique round eyeglasses, suspended by thin black straps, hanging on her bosom.

"Mr. Richter," she said. "To what do we owe the honor today?"

"I'm looking for a man named Callendar," I said, figuring that this wasn't the time to beat around the bush with delicate pleasantries.

Her eyebrows went up, and I caught just the faintest intake of breath before she regained her customary equanimity. "He's right over there," she said, pointing into the drawing room to the right. I stepped in and saw that she was pointing to the portrait that held the place of honor over the fireplace.

"That's Callendar, the original?"

"That's Callendar Jackson Lowndes Lee," she replied, closing the front door. "I'm afraid he's been dead for over a hundred fifty years, though, so if you're really looking for him, we cannot help you. No one can."

"Because he went into the Dan River after Nathaniel shot him?"

Another eyebrow twitch. "That's correct," she said. "Or, more accurately, that's the tradition as told down through our family, Mr. Richter. Is this another one of your mysteries? Are you, what's the word, 'detecting' today?"

"The Callendar I'm looking for is of a more recent vintage. I believe he's been staying in this house while conducting a guerrilla campaign to drive me away from Glory's End."

"Why, that's preposterous," she exclaimed, her voice rising. "There's no one in this house besides Mother, the major, and me, and Patience, of course, during the day. Where did you get such an idea?"

"So you won't mind if the sheriff comes by and conducts a house search?"

"There'll be none of that!" snapped Hester Lee, emerging from the other drawing room. She was brandishing an antique short-barreled shotgun. Those guns were heavy, but she was managing just fine.

"So he is here," I said.

"You, sir," she said. "Sit down in that chair right there."

"Mother," Valeria began.

"Do not interfere, Valeria. This man is dangerous to us. Sit down!"

I sat. Shotguns will have that effect.

"For what it's worth, I've already called the sheriff," I said. "He may not care for the sight of that coach gun."

"Sheriff Walker will pay far more attention to what I want than what you want, Mr. Richter," she said. "Valeria, go to the front door and keep watch."

"What do you want, Ms. Hester? What's so vital that all the Lees are suddenly afraid of me?"

"Afraid of you, Mr. Richter? We're nothing of the kind. You should be afraid of me."

"Did Valeria tell you I'm having a title search done on Glory's End?"

"Why should I care?" she asked. To my great relief, I heard the sound of a vehicle crunching up the driveway outside.

"Because old Whatley Lee is supposed to be quite thorough. Slow, but thorough."

Valeria opened the front door. A moment later Sheriff Walker stepped past her, took in the tableau in the drawing room, and stopped.

"Ms. Hester, whatever are you doing?" he asked in a casual, even conversational tone of voice.

"This man is a trespasser. You must arrest him at once."

"That's funny," I said. "I thought Valeria let me in. Why is Valeria doing door duty, by the way? Where's Patience?"

"What?" Hester said.

"Where's Patience? Is this her day off?"

Hester looked confused, then glanced sideways at Valeria for an explanation. "Patience had to go to the hospital, Mother," Valeria said. "Cubby has some sort of infection, and she had to attend to him."

"Why wasn't I told?" Hester said. "The servants do not just leave this house without permission."

"Because Cubby's got more than just a little earache," I said. "Cubby's in intensive care for gunshot wounds, which he received in the course of a gunfight. With me, actually. Apparently he's been helping your star boarder here. Now it seems he's had a change of heart. He was telling me something about an old will?"

Her face froze, and then she wasn't brandishing the shotgun anymore, she was pointing it right at my head. "You horrid man," she hissed. "I ought to shoot you right there, in that chair."

"Ms. Hester," the sheriff said. "Put that thing down before you do something you'll regret forever."

"There are already things I will regret forever," Hester said. "What's one more?"

"Mother, for God's sake," Valeria said.

"Be still, girl," Hester said. "This concerns the family. Mr. Richter here knows something he should not know."

"Ms. Hester," the sheriff interjected. "Put that gun down right now. You shoot this man, the Lee family name will be destroyed. Let me take care of this. I will arrest him and take him to jail. Then we can sort things out."

It was interesting, if not downright exciting, to watch the play of emotions on the old lady's face. One moment she looked as if the family name could go screw itself, the next, she was hesitating, and then the word "jail" penetrated.

"You will put him in jail?"

"And throw away the key, Ms. Hester. If he's frightened you so much, there must be something terribly wrong about him."

The shotgun began to waver just a little. I decided it was okay to exhale.

"Take him away, then," Hester said. "Forthwith, before the major sees him. The major will not hesitate to take direct action, as you well know." Valeria was trying to look indifferent over in one corner of the room, but she was also fanning herself with a folded lace hankie.

"You know you can depend on me, Ms. Hester," the sheriff said. "If I take him, I can protect you and the family against any further disturbances. You must distance yourself from actual acts of violence. Think of the family name."

Hester looked like she was still considering shooting me right there and then, and the Lee family name be damned. She didn't say anything for a very long moment and then she lowered the shotgun. "Very well," she said. "Now take him away."