He did not have Julian’s phone number, but it wouldn’t be difficult to hunt it down, so the lack of communication was partly Ellery’s fault. It was just that Julian was so intense, so emotional. Ellery wanted to wait until he could give him definite good news, but the radio silence was making him uncomfortable. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hoped Julian wasn’t going to do anything impulsive—like flee the country.
The sun was warm and soothing; also soothing was the summer’s day lullaby of humming bees and squawking gulls. Ellery’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. It had been impossible to sleep well at the med center, but it was so quiet out here in the middle of nowhere…
A shadow fell across him. Ellery jerked awake.
Julian stood at the end of the lounge chair, gazing down at him. He wore fashionably ripped jeans and a crimson Cthulhu T-shirt. He looked pale, his eyes red-rimmed. “I came to say goodbye.”
Ellery sat up too fast, his head swam, and he had to take a minute.
Julian’s voice was strained and husky. “I appreciate that you wanted to help, but the case is closed. Locke has confessed. My mother and I are leaving for New York after the funeral.”
“Wait,” Ellery said.
Julian’s gaze was reproachful. “There isn’t anything to wait for. I wish you had told me at the beginning that you and Chief Carson were together. You let me make a fool of myself.”
“We’re not together,” Ellery said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Julian’s face twisted in scorn. “Oh please. It’s obvious from the way he talks about you. I can’t see why you would lie about it.”
“Neither can I. Which should prove I’m not lying.”
Julian rolled his eyes and turned away. “Goodbye. Have a nice life.”
“Wait a minute.” Ellery stood up—and then sat back down. “You need to listen to what I have to say. You owe me that much.”
Julian’s face quivered. “How do I owe you anything? I loved you.”
Ellery let out a long breath. “First of all, no. You did not love me. You barely know me. We had one date. Maybe you loved the idea of me, but not me. No. Secondly, you asked me to help you, and that’s what I tried to do. I want you to hear what I found out—at least, what I can share of what I found out—seeing that what I got out of it was a concussion.”
Julian glowered. “That was your own fault.”
Ellery gaped at him—and then laughed. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, what I want you to know is your mother didn’t kill Brett.”
Julian seemed to turn to stone. He said finally, between stiff lips, “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true. She did not kill Brett.”
“Of course she didn’t! I never thought she did.”
“Oh yes you did,” Ellery said. “Which is why after we found Brett, you went back into that tomb—er, mausoleum—and picked up the gun. You weren’t covering for yourself; you were covering for her. You were afraid the scene with Kezzie was the last straw. And I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about…before.”
Julian’s smile was odd. “You mean the rumor that she killed my father?”
Ellery cleared his throat. “That. Yes.”
“You really don’t know much about anything, do you?”
“I know that your feelings are hurt—mistakenly—and you’re being a jerk about it. I also know that your mother is not the kind of woman who would leave her own gun at the scene of the crime.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“But when we found Brett, you recognized the gun as hers, and you jumped to the wrong conclusion. So you made sure to handle the pistol.”
“I was in shock.”
“Give me a break. You’re not dumb. You deliberately went back in there and did whatever you had to in order to divert suspicion from her.”
“Locke killed Brett,” Julian said stubbornly. “It makes perfect sense.”
“No. It makes no sense. Why on earth would he? How would that help anyone—especially him? Is your mother going to marry Locke now that Brett is out of the way?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Yikes.
“So, no. No chance. Locke confessed because he’s also afraid your mother committed murder—and that there’s no way she’ll let you take the blame for her actions. He’s in love with her—really in love—and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to save her. Except she doesn’t need saving. And if she did, she’d save herself—and more efficiently than either of you two could.”
Julian spluttered, “I don’t know how you think you know so much!”
“I’m an actor. Or used to be. I spent my formative years observing people and cataloging their reactions for future reference. Look, I’ve told you all I can. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be an arrest this afternoon, and Locke will be released. If you still want to leave Pirate’s Cove, leave, but not because you’re afraid your mother committed homicide. And if you want to stay, stay, but not because of me. I’m through with romance—although I’m always happy to have another friend.”
Julian’s smile was derisive. “I bet that’s not what you tell Chief Carson.”
“Jack and I are friends.”
“Maybe. But that’s not all you are. I knew it the night of the masquerade. I could feel something was off.”
Something was off, all right. But Ellery nobly refrained from saying that.
“Look, all I can tell you is, I appreciated the invitation, and up until the ghost hunt, I was having a good time. I like you, Julian. I think you’re an interesting and attractive guy. But I’m not looking for romance, and even if I was, I don’t feel we have a lot in common.”
“Ha!”
To Ellery’s ear, that “Ha!” sounded a lot like a hurt little kid, and he said, “But I mean it. I’d like to be friends.”
Julian seemed to waver for a moment. He said finally, proudly, “That’s your loss,” and strode away.
Arf. Arf. Arf.
Ellery was standing in front of the refrigerator, gazing in consternation at all the food stuffed inside, when he heard the unmistakable sound of homecoming.
Arf. Arf. Arf.
Jack was five minutes early.
Ellery left the kitchen, strode down the hall, and threw open the front door. He was grinning as Watson charged in, nearly bowling him over.
Arf. Arf. Arf.
Watson’s piercing bark bounced off the cathedral ceiling and walls.
“I missed you too.” Ellery squatted down and was promptly knocked onto his tailbone as Watson threw himself into his arms. “Ouch. Okay, okay. Down, boy.”
Between puppy kisses and laughing, he was in danger of knocking himself unconscious again. Jack’s boots appeared in his line of vision. Jack scooped Watson up, hooked a hand around Ellery’s arm, and lifted him to his feet.
“You calm down,” he growled at Watson. He turned to Ellery. “And you—”
They held gazes. Watson licked Jack’s nose, and Jack recoiled, sputtering.