Resurrecting Harry (24 page)

Stanley rubbed his eyes. “Okay. How long have you had trouble with that furnace?”

“Since the day Harry bought that house, he talked about replacing it, but there was never time.”

“What happened this morning? You said Mr. Welch worked on it.”

“This morning? No, I didn’t.”

Erich’s words knocked Bess back a step. “Then why did you leave Harry’s tool box out in the mud room? And the oily rags that were lying on top of it?”

The color drained from Erich’s face, making him even paler than normal. “When do you think I did this?”

“This morning, before you went to town to get breakfast. I saw the tool box. I meant to ask you about it, but we started talking about other things as soon as you came home.”

“Bess. I didn’t touch that furnace this morning.” He turned back to Stanley. “But the issues with the furnace weren’t the kind that would cause it to blow up. Usually the pilot light would go out for one reason or another. That fire was caused by an explosion.”

“That’s what the guys at the fire department said.” Stanley gave his attention to Bess. “Is there anyone you can think of who would want to destroy your home, maybe hurt you or Erich?”

Bess knew Erich had a short list of suspects, but she refused to believe her friends would do this. It had to be an accident. “I don’t associate with people who harbor that kind of hate.”

“Gail and Martin,” Erich said.

Bess spun on her heels. “You shouldn’t accuse. You don’t have any proof.”

He stared right through her and curled his lower lip up between his teeth. He gave his attention to the officer. “Martin’s threatened to ‘make me go away,’ and Gail was furious because Bess called off the séance. We fought. Less than an hour later, the house was on fire.”

“But Martin came over after you left. He drove me out to his place so Gail and I could talk it out. They were with me when the fire started.” Even if the timing did work, she’d never accept they were capable.

“What about Joseph?” Erich asked.

“That guy from the reservation?” Stanley asked.

Bess leveled her stare on both men: Erich for even mentioning his suspicions and Stanley for his attitude. “He’s a respected healer who was learning traditional medicine from Martin. He did a marvelous job managing Louise’s pain in her final days, and he treated Erich’s infection. He might be dead otherwise.”

“The teas he gave me were laced with a drug.”

Bess knew Erich believed his accusations, but she’d seen the altercations between Joseph and Martin and rejected the idea they were working together. There wasn’t a single good reason why Joseph would want to hurt either of them, and she refused to cause problems for a man who had taken care of Erich and hadn’t charged a single penny. “You of all people shouldn’t condemn him. His medicine cured you.”

Stanley no longer looked irritated or bored. He leaned in closer to Erich, his eyes wide. “Tell me more about these teas.”

“Bess is right. My infection cleared up. Quickly too, but I’m not sure the credit belongs to the teas. There was also a homemade ointment he used to dress the wound, but he insisted I drink the tea at least four times a day. When I did, I couldn’t get out of bed. Then I stopped.”

“You didn’t stop. You were drinking it right up to the moment—”

“No, Bess, I’m sorry, but I started dumping the cups out by the shed. That’s when I got my strength back. Bess made me a mug with dinner the other night. Since she was watching, I drank it and almost immediately passed out.” Erich shifted his weight and looked back to Bess. “Then there’s that brandy from Martin.”

“Brandy?” Stanley asked.

Would Erich keep anything to himself? With everything else going on between she and the Cooper’s and all the damage Harry had done to their reputations, she didn’t need Erich getting Martin in trouble for manufacturing brandy. The officers in this town were known to look the other way instead of upholding prohibition laws, but it was just the type of thing Stanley could use to bring Martin in for questioning. “Cough medicine. It’s Martin’s family remedy. I haven’t been feeling well.”

Erich gripped the bars. “Why do you protect him?”

“You think the Br— cough medicine was tainted?” Stanley asked Erich.

“It was very strong.”

Bess laughed. “The good stuff usually is.”

Stanley pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the cell. “I’m going to let you go for now, Welch, but don’t do anything stupid like skipping town.” He then turned to Bess. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Houdini, but I need to ask where I can get a hold of you should we need you to answer more questions.”

Where can we go?
Martin had made a generous offer, but she couldn’t take Erich there, especially after he’d put the police on their trail. Between the two men, she’d much rather spend the evening with Erich — couldn’t imagine spending it without him. “I guess we’ll get a room at the hotel, but first I want to go back to the house and see it for myself.”

Coming out of the cell, Erich wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in and kissed her forehead. She eased into him and let go of the stress that had clenched her stomach since the moment she’d heard of the fire. “That’s not a good idea, Bess. I’ve been there-”

“I’m a big girl. That’s my home, and I need to see it for my own eyes.”

“I think maybe your friend is right.” Stanley said. “Last I knew, the fire was still smoldering.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to rummage around in the ashes, but I do need to see it. Please, Erich, will you take me?”

He tightened his grip. “If that’s what you want.”

What do I want?
The answer should be easy. But she didn’t even have a clue.

“You know what I think we should do?” Erich asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Go straight to the train station and get on a Brooklyn bound train.”

Bess twisted around in the car seat to look at him. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

Even without the glare, he knew she was angry and why. His eyes darted back and forth between her and Will, who drove the car toward what remained of the house. “It made no sense to lie to the police. Someone burnt your house to the ground, and instead of being angry at them, you’re upset at me for being honest.”

“You pointed the police to Martin and Gail with no real evidence.”

“I didn’t make anything up.”

She threw her hands in the air. “You are just like Harry. He condemned the two of them for his version of the truth, and for something that he was guilty of doing himself.”

Will raised his hand between them and then touched her shoulder. “Bess. You’re upset.”

“Damn straight I am.”

“And for good reason, but lashing out at Erich doesn’t fix anything. If Martin or Joseph really had nothing to do with this, then the police won’t find anything. But they can’t do their job if you don’t cooperate. You and Erich should stay with me and the wife.”

“We can’t.”

“Of course you can. Not a good reason in the world why you can’t.” Will parked the car in front of the lot and twisted his body so he could look over the seat.

Erich watched as Bess’s eyes scanned the devastation that was once her home. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked. The fire department had nailed a sign to one of the trees — condemning the property — and everything on the lot from the shed to the outlying flowerbeds was singed black. It was pure luck the fire hadn’t spread to the shed or the neighbor’s homes.

Bess sighed and gripped Will’s hand. “It’s not the house, not really. The things...Harry’s things. I only kept a few choice items, but now, even those are gone.”

Like that old wool stage coat she wears.
Erich watched Bess step out of the car and then slid across the seat. Coming up behind her, he laid his arm over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bess. You’ve lost so much…it isn’t fair—”

“Life rarely is.” She pushed her hair back over her ear. “There’s the cabinet in the shed with the last few things for the museum. The key was in my bureau drawer. You picked the lock once, do you think?”

He laid a finger against her cheek and nodded. They said their goodbyes to Will and promised to call him in the morning. Then, Erich gripped her hand and led her across the yard to the shed. Inside, it took less than a minute to work his magic.

The lock slipped away, and he reached for the handles, but the feel of the cool metal snapped something in his brain. None of this was his, not really. Not the way he’d assumed in the beginning. Stepping back, he waved his hand toward the cabinet, allowing Bess to claim whatever she needed.

She ran her fingers over the wood and then pulled the door open. Looking over her shoulder, Erich got a first glance of what she’d hid away. Chains, locks, shackles and his ring of master keys: one to open each and every lock made. She reached out, picked up a plastic bag from the middle shelf and opened it, removing a straightjacket. She held it in her hands and fingered the nylon ties. Bringing it to her face, she inhaled deeply. As she exhaled, he saw her upper lip quiver, but she regained composure and steeled again. She slipped it back in the bag and returned it to the shelf. “Come on, we should check in at the hotel and stop by the department store since everything we own is ash.”

“All right. Let me lock this up.”

Bess took the lock from him and tossed it to the corner of the shed. “Don’t bother. The rats and thieves can have it for all I care. If anything had to burn why couldn’t it have been that?”

With her open hand she pounded the front of the cabinet so hard it fell back against the wall, but Erich didn’t take his tear-filled eyes off her. He pulled her tight and laid his head on hers. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

She pulled out of his arms and started across the yard, but at the midpoint the draw of the devastation turned her back. Her eyes scanned the remains, and he thought she teetered on the edge of a complete breakdown. Instead, she laughed, quiet at first, but soon her chest heaved and she bent at the waist.

“What’s so funny?” Erich asked, fearing she’d snapped.

“It’s just Harry’s way. Take that damn book to the grave with you!”

The range of emotions Bess displayed didn’t surprise Erich. How much tragedy was she expected to bear? “What are you talking about?”

She leaned back, giving him her full weight. Erich accepted it, and wrapped his arm around her chest. “Since Harry died I’ve been trying to find his stupid little black bible with all his contacts, addresses and notes. I never did.  It’s been driving me nuts. Now, I guess the fire has taken that from me too.”

He gripped Bess tighter. Harry’s book contained information on every person they’d ever met as well as the businesses to contact for supplies for the act. If she’d had that, it would have served as a road map to normal. Without it, he could only imagine the confusion she faced with every detail of their life.

He left a kiss on her forehead, released his grip and walked to the car. Opening the passenger door and popping open the glove box, he saw it laying there: right where Harry had put it after they’d driven up the coast to meet with a prop company. After talking to the salesman for two hours, they returned to the car. Harry immediately filled a page with notes and then put the book there for safe keeping on the trip home. It was still there three days later when they boarded a train for the last round of shows. A trip Harry never came home from.

The book had never been returned to the house.

Erich picked it up. Heavy in his hand, he drug his fingers across the soft brushed leather. Gripping it to his chest, he walked back to Bess. Inside, Harry wept for her pain, but Erich felt nothing but anger. So many little things had been stacked against her, too much to endure. Her pain needed to end.

He offered the book to Bess. “Is this it?”

She took it and ran a hand over the cover. “Oh my. Yes. But how?”

Something to hold onto. That was all she’d wanted, and that book — the only thing left — would become even more treasured. How he hated lying, but there was no reason to even try to tell the truth. Jaden wouldn’t bend the rules now. “While I was working on the car, I stumbled across it. I had no idea or...”

“It’s okay. Thank you, Erich.” She flipped it open and slid her hand down a page.

He stepped closer and opened his arms. The anticipation of her coming to him made his insides tremble. Maybe they were past her hot-and-cold reactions to him, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. He wanted to comfort her, but it was also possible she needed time alone with Harry’s memory. She stepped into his embrace and buried her head in his chest. As he closed his arms around her, she whispered, “Get me out of here, Erich.”

“Can you walk into town?”

“Do I look like an invalid?” That sharp, snappy tone was back to her voice. The emotional moment passed, she was back to being the pillar of strength he and everyone else was used to seeing.

“No, love, the furthest thing from it.”

***

Erich’s every muscle cried out from fatigue, but standing in the hotel lobby his mind rattled with questions. Was it presumptuous to get one room? If he requested two would she feel slighted? It angered him to be dependent on her and Harry’s legacy to pay the bills, but his illness had put a quick stop to earning a paycheck at the deli.

They’d followed up their investigation of the house with a stop at the department store to buy some essential clothing and toiletries, and then dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. As tired as he was, Bess seemed to be carrying her anguish on her sagging shoulders. She responded to his nervous rocking by tugging on his sleeve. “What’s the matter, Erich? Can we get the room? I need to lie down.”

The room? One?
Deciding it best to be clear, Erich asked, “Should I only get one?”

She stepped closer to him and looped an arm around his waist. “I don’t know what would become of me, if I didn’t have you with me.” Her words came so soft, he strained to hear them, but they lifted his heart all the same. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. Moving to the reception desk, he gripped her hand.

Moments later they were alone in the hotel room, and Bess’s walls crumbled. She lowered herself to the chair and peered out the window at the small town. He dropped to his knees in front of her and laid his hands on top of hers. He searched for the words to comfort, but knew they’d be inadequate and disproportionate to her pain. Instead, he sat in silence and stroked her arm.

Several moments of silence passed, and then she let her gaze fall back on him. “I want the investigation stopped. The fire was an accident. If anyone is at fault, it’s me.”

“Trust me, that fire was set.”

“I could smell the fuel oil. Harry should have replaced the furnace, but he didn’t. When he died that responsibility became mine.”

“It’s not your fault, Bess!”

“Then who’s? I knew it needed to be repaired or replaced and I did nothing. I’m going to tell Stanley to call off the investigation.”

Guilt bubbled up in Erich’s stomach for everything Harry had left undone, from fixing the furnace to not preparing Bess for a life on her own. Sure, he hadn’t expected the damn appendicitis to take his life, but every night that he went on stage, he tempted the gods and bargained with the fates for his life. Just because he’d always emerged victorious, it was asinine of him to believe it would always end that way. “Do me a favor, Angel. Get a good night’s sleep before you make a final decision.”

“You really think someone maliciously burnt my house down?” From the rasp in her voice and the way she squeezed her forearm with her opposite hand, Erich knew it was just too horrible for her to accept.

“I think it was someone who knew the furnace was bad and tried to use it to cover up the sabotage. I know you don’t want to think Martin or Gail would do something so awful, but I can’t think of anyone else with an ax to grind.”

She shook her head and sighed.

Erich stood but let his touch linger on her arm. “You look so tired, Bess. Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Try to set it all aside tonight and we’ll examine everything tomorrow.”

She leaned into his touch. “You spoil me.”

“That’s the point.”