Heather Graham - Wicked Deeds

There were three bolts on the door—not easily opened. But she didn’t believe that Franklin Verne and his murderer had entered by the front, anyway.

She unlocked and opened the door. And she stared into the face of Jon Skye, their young waiter from the night before.

“Hey!” he said, obviously very surprised to see her there. “Um...what are you doing here? I got a call this morning... I saw the news. But I figured that Gary and Alice were here, and I felt that I had to help and...why the hell are you here?” he asked.

“Griffin is with the FBI,” Vickie explained quickly.

“Oh. Oh, the FBI! But...I’m so confused. So, he didn’t just die. He didn’t sneak in to do a suicide thing, huh? He was murdered. Like his wife says? Still, I don’t get it. Oh, but yeah, Franklin Verne was so well-known. It’s national news—worldwide news, really. Is that it?”

“Actually, we don’t know anything yet,” Vickie said. “Any such death has to be investigated, and Monica Verne is very good friends with Griffin’s director,” she explained. She was still blocking the door. She hesitated, and then stepped aside. He’d come to lend support to Gary and Alice, much, she assumed, as Lacey had done.

Or because he was curious. But Vickie decided she’d let the others sort that out.

“Thanks,” Jon told her, entering. He nodded and strode ahead of her into the bar area.

The group there all greeted him. Alice seemed to perk up, glad to see Jon.

Griffin nodded at Vickie. Apparently, it had been the right thing to do, letting him in.

“I came by to see if I could help in some way,” Jon said.

“Sure, thanks. We’re all just sitting here a little shell-shocked. Appreciate you coming,” Gary said.

“It’s terrible about Franklin Verne,” Jon said. He looked over at Griffin. He shook his head. “I do understand that any unexplained death has to be explained. But...FBI? Does this all mean that Franklin Verne was murdered? That he didn’t just sneak in to give it all up, go on a binge—and die?”

Griffin didn’t answer the question but rather voiced one in return. “Do you know of anyone jealous of him? Someone who would want to hurt him—for any reason?” he asked.

Gary, Lacey, Jon and Alice all looked at one another. Then they all looked at Griffin and shook their heads in unison—almost as if it had been rehearsed.

“Whoever it was—if there was a whoever,” Alice said, “they hid what they were feeling. I mean, at least as far as we know.”

“But you will want to talk to Liza,” Lacey said.

“Yes, he’ll need to talk to Liza, of course,” Gary said.

“Dad, what, you think she’ll rouse the truth with a séance?” Alice asked sarcastically.

“She knew him,” Gary said, ignoring his daughter. “She can do her ridiculous séance. Who knows—maybe she’ll come up with something.”

“Oh, it will be great,” Alice murmured darkly.

“Liza is going to do a séance?” Jon asked. “I mean, they may want to talk with Alistair Malcolm and Brent Whaley, too. I’d say the three of them are the core of the Blackbird Society,” he said. “Others come...but not with the same passion and continuity. And Alistair and Brent were also friends with Franklin Verne,” he said, looking earnestly at Griffin.

“Thank you,” Griffin said.

“Yes! Special Agent Pryce will need to speak with Brent Whaley and Alistair Malcolm as well,” Lacey said, sudden energy in her voice. “Whaley is a writer! Part of the Poe society, but a writer, too. I mean, he actually writes for a living. He does a mystery series about a Baltimore detective. And, like Liza, he knew Franklin Verne! I’m sure Brent considers himself to be a friend of Franklin Verne—or, at least, he did,” she added awkwardly. “In fact, he and Liza have been known to get a bit snippy when discussing him. And Alistair is about the only one who can put little Ms. Liza Harcourt in her place. He owns an amazing collection of Poe memorabilia. Liza is quite jealous of it. There’s no way out of it—Alistair is very knowledgeable and he writes as well. He’s had some articles published and is always working on a book.”

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