“You knew he was an Ezekiel.” It wasn’t a question.
“He told me when he found the box of Tyson’s letters in Rupert’s study. He was so excited. Beyond. I have those too,” she said. “The letters. I took them when I broke in to the house the night my father was killed.” She winced. “I didn’t want anyone finding them . . . and making them disappear. Dad had showed me how to get in and out of the house unnoticed, as he’d been doing it since he found the study. Going there at night was the only way for him not to raise the suspicions of the other Harpies.”
So she and Haywood were Mr. Butterbaugh’s “ghostly” visitors.
Avery said, “He told Hyacinth, of course, but that was it. And why he told her, I don’t know.”
A moan came from the kitchen, and I looked back. Haywood was gesturing wildly until he realized I had no idea what he was trying to get across. Finally, he cupped his hands together, forming a heart with his fingers. “Love?” I asked him.
Yes.
“He loved her,” I said to Avery.
“I know,” she said, shaking her head. “But she’s . . .”
“A good actress,” I said.
Avery stretched her legs. “What’s that mean?”
I explained how Hyacinth had acted a complete and utter bitch to get Avery out of town. To protect her. “She believes he was killed because of his connection to the house. She didn’t want the same fate to fall on you.”
I suddenly wondered if that was why Haywood had been avoiding me as well. He didn’t want me to learn of his connection to Avery, afraid the news would leak and someone would come after her too. I turned and asked him.
Yes.
“Oh.” Her lip quivered.
Delia set her mug on the coffee table. “You mentioned that Haywood left a note for the blackmailer. What did it say?”
Sunlight fell across Avery’s face, making her eyes shine like emeralds. “He essentially told the blackmailer to shove it. That he wasn’t paying anymore, and that he’d spend the rest of his days tracking the coward down until he publicly exposed the bastard.”
“Whoa,” Delia said.
Whoa was right. “Did he suspect anyone?”
“He figured it was one of the Harpies,” she said.
“Hay, did you get any strange vibes from Doug Ramelle?” I asked.
He hissed, and I smiled. “He didn’t like you.”
Yes.
“This might be the strangest day of my life,” Avery muttered.
“Welcome to our world,” Delia said.
“If Doug was the blackmailer,” I theorized, “and he got your note, then I’d say that might be motivation to get rid of you. Especially if he thought your announcement that night was going to expose him.”
Haywood frowned. “Dohhd?”
“Doug?” Delia guessed.
Yes.
She was good, because I’d been clueless about that one. I explained how we suspected Mayor Ramelle had a gambling problem, and that the blackmail was to cover missing funds.
Haywood went back to pacing.
“Where were you when your dad was killed?” I asked Avery. “Did you see anything?”
“I was freshening my makeup when I heard the scream . . .” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t see anything.”
We were running out of leads. “I need to talk to Doug,” I said to Delia.
Delia nodded. “Then we should get going. It’s a long drive back.”
“Before I go,” I said to Avery, “just how do you know Patricia Davis Jackson?”
“I don’t, really. I only knew her through Haywood’s stories about the Harpies. She didn’t know who I was from a hole in the wall.”
I knew that to not be true on Patricia’s end. “Is it possible she knew your mother?”
“I suppose,” she said. “They lived in Hitching Post together.”
Haywood moaned, and when I glanced at him, he was giving me a questioning look. He wanted to know why I was asking about Patricia. “It’s complicated,” I said to him. “Did you know them to ever have a connection? Were they friends?”
No.
Strange.
“Haywood’s funeral is on Thursday,” I said to Avery as I stood up. “At the Ezekiel cemetery. I know you said you were never going back to Hitching Post, but maybe once more?”
“What time?” she asked, standing, too.
I woke up Louella and she didn’t even growl. “I’m not sure. I’ll ask Hyacinth and get back to you.”
“Thanks.”
Delia looked at Haywood. “Are you coming back with us?”
“Does he have to go?” Avery asked. “He has until midnight, doesn’t he? I mean, I can’t see him or anything, but I can talk to him. I didn’t get to say good-bye to him the other night before . . .” She sniffed. “He’s the only family I had left, and I barely got to know him.”
“He doesn’t have to go with us,” I said softly, “but it’d be nice to have him around if I have any more questions to ask him.”
Tears filled her eyes, spilled over.
Haywood’s too. He tapped an arm, mimicking pointing at a watch.
“You want just a little more time here?” Delia said.
Yes.
Oh geez. I was such a softie. “Okay. Then I guess I’ll see you sometime later?”