The Saucy Lucy Murders (14 page)

“Here we are.” The car rolled to a stop. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s go inside and check it out. Play it by ear, you know?”

“Get ourselves into some innocent trouble?”

Lexie grinned and nodded.

Inside Houdini’s Hideout were several aisles of magic equipment in fancy packaging. There were card tricks, strobe lights, fantasy gear, sweeping black capes, and top hats—you name it. Everything to warm the cockles of an amateur magician’s heart.

It was a modest establishment … not extremely large, but not exactly postage-stamp-sized, either. Adding to the mystical atmosphere of Houdini’s Hideout were its deep purple walls decorated with yellow star, moon, and sun decals.

The checkout counter was located on one side of the store where a small woman with a dark page-boy hairstyle was waiting on a line of customers, a few of whom were rambunctious little boys with stern mothers trying to keep them under control.

The world of illusion sported some pretty hefty price tags. So hefty Lexie would have had a difficult time affording even a small, disappearing coin box with her café earnings.

“Go look around and ask the lady at the counter some questions. Let me know what you find out.”

Lucy patted stray hairs coming loose from her bun. “If you insist. But I really have no idea what this will accomplish.”

When Lucy wandered toward the pageboy clerk, Lexie looked around for a bit, examining various items until she reached a small raised stage at the back of the store. Several people, both young and old, were gathered around a flaxen-haired man probably in his late thirties, wearing a top hat and cape,
performing along to soft music. As Lexie watched, he did the white-rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick, and made several white doves appear in a cage, then disappear. Impressed, Lexie glanced around to see how he might have engineered such incredible feats.

The crowd clapped after the man’s last trick, then a young boy of about ten wearing baggy pants and a baseball cap spoke up. “How did you do that, mister? I mean, that was pretty cool.”

“Ah, a great magician never gives away his secrets,” the man declared. He tapped a paperback book with his magic wand. “But for fifteen dollars and ninety-five cents, you can buy my book,
Ernie the Magnificent’s Tricks and Illusions.
Guaranteed to give you instant success at being a great magician. That is, if you follow all the rules to a T,” he added.

“Mom, can I get one? Puh-leese?” The youngster stared up at his mom with a long face and beseeching puppy dog eyes.

Mom clenched her jaw and shook her head at her son, mouthing a silent, emphatic,
No,
and ignored the boy’s pouting disappointment.

Lexie stared hard at Ernie the Magnificent. Was he Ernie Howell? Proprietor of Houdini’s Hideout and jaded husband of Sophie? She moved closer to the stage, intent on listening and watching.

“I need an assistant,” Ernie declared, his gaze searching the crowd. Immediately a dozen hands shot in the air. “How refreshing. A crowd of eager apprentices. But for this particular trick, I need a
grownup. You … the young lady with the lovely red hair.” He gestured at Lexie with a patient smile. “Could I convince you to be Ernie the Magnificent’s assistant for his next trick?”

“Me?”
Lexie squeaked, moving slowly through the crowd. “I’m afraid I’m no good at magic, Mr. Magnificent.”

“You don’t need to be,” Ernie the Magnificent continued, his chest pompously puffed. “Leave the illusions to the master.”

Lexie cleared her throat and stepped onto the stage. “Uh, sure, Mr. Magnificent. Whatever you say.”

Ernie rolled out a brightly painted coffin on legs and gestured at another table laden with wicked-looking saws. He made a grand sweep of his hand, indicating Lexie should crawl inside the coffin.

Lexie cringed. She really didn’t want to do that. She wanted to disappear. Fast. Swallowing hard, she whispered to the master, “Uh, look, Ernie. Is this safe? I mean, I’m too young to die.”

She thought of her upcoming birthday. Eva probably thought she was older than dirt. Heck, Eva probably thought she
named
dirt. Too bad. Lexie wasn’t ready to be pushing up daisies.

Not just yet.

“I assure you, Madame, Ernie the Magnificent has never harmed an assistant yet.” He took Lexie’s arm and guided her firmly toward the coffin.

Lexie took exception to the
yet
part. What was that all about? She didn’t want to be the
yet
assistant.
As the master helped her lie down inside the box, heart pounding like a jackhammer, she screwed up her courage. Ernie the Magnificent wouldn’t risk his budding reputation by killing one of the volunteers in his performance, would he?

That would be very bad for business.

As Ernie closed the coffin lid, Lexie found her voice. “Uh, Ernie,” she said softly. “Did you recently move to Denver from Moose Creek Junction?”

“I wish you wouldn’t interrupt my magic trick, young lady,” he whispered hoarsely. “Why do you want to know?”

“That’s my hometown.”

“Hmmm. Thought I recognized you.” He clicked another lock into place. “Must have seen you around.”

The master turned to face the crowd and said with a flourish, “And now for my magic saw trick. Watch closely, ladies and gentlemen. My magical powers are second only to the great Harry Houdini himself.”

When he turned back to Lexie, she whispered, “Did you move from Moose Creek Junction? You and your wife Sophie and your two boys?”

He looked visibly shaken. “I’m in the middle of a performance here and my concentration shouldn’t be disturbed,” he returned in a low, irritated voice.

“What do you know about Henry Whitehead?”

His icy blue eyes got paler and wider, but he made no comment.

“He was murdered a little over a month ago,” Lexie added.

The master’s mouth worked open and closed, yet he still made no sound.

“I heard Henry had put the moves on Sophie, and that’s why you moved away. To save your marriage.”

The crowd grew impatient and Lexie heard them shifting restlessly. As for her, the wooden support around her neck was digging into tender flesh. She wanted out of this death box. Sooner than later. But curiosity outweighed discomfort.

“Why did you come here?” Ernie the Magnificent’s nostrils flared and his face turned red as a tomato. “I don’t know anything about Whitehead.”

“Did you recently make a trip to Moose Creek Junction to confront him? Did things get out of control?”

“You’re out of your mind, lady.”

“But—”

Ernie whirled away from her, voice booming. “Observe if you will, ladies and gentlemen, the master’s greatest feat. This will amaze and astound you. Watch closely as I send razor sharp saws through my lovely assistant here, yet she will emerge unharmed.”

Lexie realized, too late, that the particular moment she had chosen to confront Ernie the Magnificent about Whitehead’s murder was probably not the best. What if one of the razor sharp saws slipped? What if she became a grisly statistic in a sadistic magician’s act? Lexie’s heart hammered faster and she
began to sweat buckets in the coffin.

Ernie nodded to someone in the wings of the stage, someone not visible to Lexie. The music swelled. Her gut clenched like a twisted rubber band. “Ernie, listen to me. Don’t do this. I just want to get to the bottom of Whitehead’s murder—” Lexie cringed and sucked in a breath as Ernie brought one of the saws down into the coffin.

Shhh-thunk.
With deft movements, the master slid one of the wicked blades into place.

Shhh-thunk.

Lexie didn’t feel a thing. Maybe she couldn’t. She could be bleeding to death and no one would know. Is this what death felt like? Does death feel like …
nothing?

Shhh-thunk.
The last blade slid into place.

Tapping on the wooden surface, Ernie spun the coffin around a couple of times. Lexie wanted to vomit. She had not volunteered to have her brains scrambled. Or her limbs severed.

“Ernie, stop it this instant! I’m going to be sick,” she shouted, her insides rising up in her throat. From her crazy, disoriented perspective, she could see Lucy in the crowd, her hands covering her mouth.

Make him stop,
Lexie wanted to tell her sister. He’s trying to kill me …

Suddenly the lights went out and the crowd gasped. Lexie gasped, too. She gasped so hard she thought she’d swallowed her tongue for sure. Man, she was tired of having the frigging lights go out on
her. When the lights went out, bad things happened.

Finally the coffin quit spinning and came to a complete stop. Lexie heard Ernie, or someone, fiddling with the coffin in the dark. It sounded like the blades were sliding in the coffin again. There was the sound of a small explosion, and the lights came back on.

Billowy white smoke stung Lexie’s eyes and made them water and she sneezed as she turned to look at the crowd.

Parents were coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces while the younger crowd was shouting, “Wow,” and “Awesome,” and talking excitedly about what a cool guy Ernie the Magnificent was.

Lexie didn’t think he was so cool. She was getting claustrophobia. Where the hell was he, anyway? She wanted out of this moldy crate. “Ernie, I don’t care how Magnificent you think you are. My assistant days are over. Ernie!”

“Hey, lady,” one of the kids shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Chill out. Your coffin’s unlocked. Get out yourself.”

As Lexie started pounding on the thing, Lucy stepped on stage and pulled on the coffin lid. It finally opened and Lucy helped Lexie crawl out of her tomb.

Lexie shivered, brushing off her clothes. “Did you see where Ernie went?”

Lucy shook her head. “No one did. After everything went dark there was a small explosion, then
the lights went on and there was smoke everywhere. Ernie disappeared.”

“Creep,” Lexie complained as they stepped away from the stage and regrouped in a small alcove full of magic books.

“Did you find anything out?” Lucy asked.

“Well, I’m pretty sure Ernie the Magnificent is Ernie Howell from Moose Creek Junction. But he sure didn’t want to talk about it. Acted scared to death. And when I mentioned Whitehead, he nearly went ballistic.”

“Not too smart, Lex. Especially when the master had you locked up tight in his coffin. With saws, no less.”

Lexie folded her arms across her chest. “Unfortunately, that occurred to me when it was too late.”

Lucy glanced around the room as though she might see the master hiding behind the curtains or lurking in the wings of the stage.

“What did you find out from Mrs. Magnificent? At least I’m assuming the woman at the counter is Sophie Howell.”

“Oh, she’s Sophie Howell all right. And she confirmed she’s from Moose Creek Junction. There’s only one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“She claims she’s never heard of Henry White-head.”

Lexie felt a lead weight in her stomach. “She must be lying.”

“Probably. It appears neither Sophie nor her husband want to admit to knowing him. Makes them look a little guilty, don’t you think?”

“Sure does.” Lexie thought for a minute. “Do you think it was a conspiracy? That both Ernie and Sophie had something to do with Whitehead’s murder?”

“It also could be that one or the other murdered him and they’re covering for each other.”

“People do strange things when it comes to affairs of the heart.” Lexie remembered how betrayed she’d felt when Dan left her for Davina Blakely. All those years of her loyalty and devotion down the toilet.

Did Dan fall
out
of love with her and suddenly fall
in
love with Davina?

That didn’t make any more sense than the idea that two people who had nearly divorced would reconcile and go out and kill the wife’s ex-lover.

Why would they risk their futures on revenge?

“This is a creepy place, Luce. Don’t you agree we’ve found out all we’re going to about Ernie How-ell and Sophie?”

Lucy nodded. “Amen to that.”

“Then let’s go collect Aunt Gladys.”

Arm in arm, the sisters walked to the door.

S
UNLIGHT GLINTED OFF THE PINK STUCCO WALLS
of the Mountain Shadows Rest Home, sprawling across an expanse of drying autumn grass like a crab in the sand.

Standing in the parking lot next to her sister, Lexie shaded her eyes from the bright sun with one hand and studied the wrought iron fence behind the building. It enclosed a large, tree-filled yard where the residents probably took walks and possibly played pinochle on good days. And complained that no one ever came to visit them.

A pang of sadness touched Lexie’s heart and she hoped Lucy wouldn’t see the emotion misting her eyes.

Lucy, of course, all-knowing sister that she was, was not fooled one bit. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Lexie knew better than to hide what she was feeling. “I was just thinking about Mom and Dad. I miss them. Especially this time of the year … when
the accident—”

“Happened,” Lucy finished for her. She sighed and took out a crisp, lacy-edged hankie and wiped moisture from her eyes. “I know, me too. Who would have thought a stupid rabbit crossing the road would end it all for them? “

“I know. And Daddy would never hurt a fly so he must have swerved to miss it. If they’d only been wearing seatbelts.”

“They never believed in them.” Lucy paused. “Look at it this way, dear; they’re at peace now. In a much better place than we are.”

“But it’s not fair,” Lexie added softly, a quaver in her voice.

“I know, dear. I know. Look at the bright side.” She nodded in the direction of the rest home. “We’ve still got good old Aunt Gladys.”

They both moaned.

“So, how about you and Otis put Aunt Gladys in
your
spare room? I’m too young to die.”

“That’s not a good idea, Lexie.”

This response from a woman who preached charity and compassion from sunrise to sunset? Lexie shook her head. “How in the world am I going to handle Miss Daisy-from-hell? She’s as squirrelly as a sack of cats headed up the river.”