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I’d killed with a paperclip. A nice shoe had also been used, but as I tried to turn one way or the other, I couldn’t help but realize my horrible predicament.
With Ida Belle and Walter running interference, I’d managed to make it to the final tour without a Brigham Cable introduction, but if Elle’s dad was there to collect a bounty, meeting and apprehending me wouldn’t be a problem.
The lights dimmed and Gomer appeared. “Last tour in sixty seconds. Stand in the garden.” He paused in the doorway. “Can you move to the left so our guests can see the scary pumpkins and rotten gourds?”
“Is that supposed to be a chilling haunted house effect?”
“It will be when you see what they can do,” Gomer said, hitting a switch on the wall. “For the finale.”
The pumpkins’ mouths began to move and their eyes flickered red. A theme song from a scary movie played in the background, but I couldn’t name that tune. My mind was already miles away from Wasteland.
I moved away from the human tomato and cringed a little when the older fellow said, “I’m not a bottle of ketchup. Do not squeeze the tomato.”
His enunciated words made it sound as if he said ‘moto’ instead of ‘mato’ but Mr. Tomato Head was the least of my worries. Even if his voice could easily pass as one that belonged to a serial killer, the newcomer didn’t frighten me. He smelled like a bottle of whiskey, and since he hadn’t made it to the first tours, I was pretty sure the guy had spent his time crouched behind Hollowman’s bar.
Still, if today were my last day, I didn’t want to be taken out by a vegetable. The executioner’s song came to mind and I panicked.
Ida Belle, Gertie, and I planned to meet in the Hollowman family dining room after the last show, but how could I go anywhere when my legs were not cooperating with my costume? The hotter this thing became, the more difficult it was to walk.
Walter had warned me that it would be challenging to get out of this costume, but he never said I would have a problem moving altogether.
I only had three options.
Stop.
Drop.
Roll.
All of which worked extremely well, to my surprise, until my roll was interrupted by one of Daigle’s men. I stared up at the brute Gertie had attempted to woo.
“Hi,” I said, grimacing when I felt the fan at my back snap.
“Need a hand, Ms. Redding?”
“That would be swell,” I said, somewhat surprised when he helped me right myself. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“It’ll be the only one you have,” Carter bit out, appearing beside me. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
I breathed a little sigh of relief and realized I’d closed my eyes at the same time.
“Come on.” He took my hand and dragged me alongside him. “We have to talk.”
“Thanks again!” I called out before shooting Carter a smile. “I’m glad to see you.”
“Looks like you were handling yourself just fine.”
“Jealous?” I teased.
“Terribly.” He winked. I loved that wink more and more, which would eventually get the best of me, but for now, it was time to focus. Something must’ve happened.
Once we reached the private dining room, he pushed aside the table, kicked the middle of a baseboard and revealed a flight of stairs.
“Of course there’s a hidden cellar,” I said. “Now, how to get there.”
“Nothing we can’t handle,” he promised, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me downstairs in a jiffy.
“My hero,” I sang.
“Looks like you needed one.”
“Always,” I promised.
Carter indicated the far wall. “Over there. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”
A few minutes later, we stood in front of a nice vintage. Carter pecked on a shelf behind it and Walter opened the hidden door.
“I won’t ask how you knew that was here,” I said.
“We all knew,” Ida Belle said.
“We just assumed the mayor boarded it up and never used it,” Gertie said. “Who knew the place was filled with enough wine to drown a small country?”
“Or at minimum, get the citizens good and drunk,” Walter suggested.
“What’s going on?” Francine demanded to know more as she placed her hands on her hips. “I’m supposed to be in the kitchen.”
“Ally will be down in just a minute. She’s wrapping up the last orders,” Walter said.
“I’ll go see what’s keeping her.” Carter rested his hand on his holster. “Stay alert until we find out what’s going on.”
“This is bad. Isn’t it?” The look on my friends’ faces told the story.
He nodded once. “Ida Belle, ditch the heels. Somebody help Gertie and Fortune get out of their costumes. I’ll be back with Ally and we’ll discuss what to do next.”
About that time, he held up a forefinger.
We all pressed our lips together and waited.
Behind the wall, Gomer yelped. “Stop! I haven’t done anything to you people! I don’t even know you!”
“But you do.” Brigham Daigle’s unmistakable voice filled the room. “You know me. You know my daughter. You know my men.” He laughed. “Or should I say, Jax’s men.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Gomer screamed. “I’ve been good to your daughter, treated her like my own when she lived here, but I didn’t get involved in Jax’s business. It wasn’t my business!”
“It must’ve been,” Daigle said. “He signed this steakhouse over to you in front of a notary the same night that he died. Sounds like motive. Opportunity. If anyone killed my dad, you had the most to gain.”
Gomer coughed. Were they strangling him?
“We have to help him,” I said.
“We will.” Carter looked around. Outside of a small table and chairs, the room was empty, and nothing like the fancy cellar on the other side of the wall.
“Did you kill my dad?”
“No!” Gomer coughed again. “I liked him. He was my friend. And...”
“And what?” Daigle screamed.
“The steakhouse was never your dad’s. It was never my uncle’s. The restaurant and land have always been mine. It was left to me several decades ago, but I just wasn’t ready to take the responsibility. Gloria’s mother never thought I was smart enough. My uncle ran it because he was able to do a better job.”
“Ran it into the ground,” Francine whispered. “This place could’ve been a gold mine.”
Gertie and Ida Belle nodded.
“Still could be,” Walter stated flatly.
“They’ll kill him,” I whispered.
“We won’t let that happen,” Carter promised me.
Brigham’s voice lifted another octave. “You expect me to believe that you owned this steakhouse all along?”
“It’s true. When your dad came to town, he signed a lease with me and agreed not to tell anyone. It was our secret. Even the Feds believed he owned it. We went to the notary that night because he had told some of my friends that he would sign it over to me. He needed to legally break his lease.”
“Why would you lease to him in the first place?” Brigham waited a beat. “Did you know who he was?”
Gomer remained quiet.
“Answer me!”
“What a madman,” Gertie said, shaking her head.
Carter lifted one hand and kept the other one on his service weapon.
“Because he needed it so he could reestablish himself as a legitimate businessman. This steakhouse may be in the middle of nowhere, but it’s profitable.” He coughed. “Go upstairs to the office and check my filing cabinet. We had a notarized document signed that I was letting him out of the lease.”
“Tell me the truth! Why didn’t you want this steakhouse?” Daigle asked. “If a restaurant is as profitable as you say, you could’ve used the money for your daughter. Are you lazy?”
Gertie rolled her eyes. “Professional loafer.”
“Yes. I gu...guess so.” Gomer’s voice broke. “But there’s more. Everything that has happened to our family has happened because of this steakhouse. Hollowmans have died here. They’ve been arrested here. This place is as scary as the haunted house.”
“It’s not that scary. No offense, Mr. Hollowman.” Elle’s voice rang out.
Gertie’s eyes widened.
“Oh no,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“We need to wait,” said Carter.
“Can you get me out of this vegetable?” I asked, going to the far corner so Walter and Ida Belle could assist with discarding the stalk and floret. After some tugs and rips, I stood in my jeans and T-shirt again. I waited with Carter by the door.
“Texting Ally.” Ida Belle looked deeply concerned. “I’ll ask her to wait upstairs.”
The small talk on the other side of the hidden room stopped. We all sat there for several minutes as Ida Belle peeled away her boots and Gertie ditched her doughboy getup.
“You have thirty seconds to tell me where to find Fortune Redding or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.” Brigham sounded deathly sincere.
“What do you want with Fortune?” Gomer asked.
“Seven. Eight. Nine.”
“She doesn’t do anything to anyone and all you people want is her head. What has she done to you?” Gomer asked.
“Don’t be stubborn, Gomer. Tell them where to find me,” I whispered.
“Thirteen. Fourteen.”
“I don’t know where she is!”
“Eighteen. Nineteen.”
“Elle. Please don’t do this in front of Elle,” Gomer said.
“What was she dressed as?” Daigle screamed. “I. Will. Kill. You.”
“I’m not telling you anything about her. She’s my friend,” Gomer told him sternly. “Tell Gloria I’m sorry. I can’t give up someone else’s life to save myself.”
Gertie unzipped our bag of weapons and tossed me my nine. Ida Belle cocked a Glock.
“Now!” I screamed.
Walter yanked the door open, and we rushed into the heart of the cellar.
Guns drawn. Guns aimed.