Bran New Death(46)

A pariah . . . how did she even know that word? What an odd girl! “Just putting it out there. What do you photograph?” I asked as we moved back down the stairs to the main hallway.

She didn’t answer until she had framed and taken a photo of the rose window, and the double oak doors. Then she sat down on the steps. “Wanna see?” I sat beside her and together we scrolled through all the photos on her SLR digital camera. She took all kinds of pictures . . . people, places, and nature. She was pretty good. Better at framing photos than me, that was for sure.

“Where is that?” I asked, as she scrolled to a photo of a wooded area, and a sad, leaning tent spotted with mildew.

“That’s in your woods . . . or I think it’s probably your woods,” she said. “I don’t know where the property line is, or anything. There’s a few trails. I followed one, and then there’s kind of a clearing beneath a hill; that’s where this camp is. Creepy. All kinds of crap there . . . old tins, clothes, other stuff.” She brought up an interesting photo of a burned-out fire, with a can of beans, the label charred and the lid half opened.

I made a mental note to walk through the woods sometime. If there was an old encampment, that was the kind of thing I wanted cleaned out, so it didn’t encourage trespassing. “Can you show me where this is sometime?”

“Sure. If I remember. Like I said, there’s a kind of path to it, but it’s overgrown and weedy. This picture was from, like, June or something.”

“Do you ever come across other camps?”

“Sometimes,” she said.

“If you do, I want to know. I’d appreciate it.” Of course, I didn’t want her to be wandering in my woods alone, but that was a conversation for another day. If I had made enough of an impression, she might just ask me when she wanted to explore, instead of sneaking around.

She nodded, but was silent. She was a complicated girl. Chatty and gushing while I showed her around the castle, she had now clammed up and become broody again, as moody as fifteen can be. She clicked through to another photo, and I yelped. “Hey, that orange cat,” I said, pointing to the picture on the screen. A big orange fluffy cat was sitting on a stump, staring directly at the photographer. “Do you see it often?”

“Sure. Whenever I’m in the woods it follows me, but I can’t get close to it, I don’t know why.”

I stared at the photo, wondering if it was indeed my uncle’s cat, Becket. I was going to have to remember to take treats in my pocket when I went for a walk in the woods. If it was Melvyn’s cat, I wanted to rescue it.

McGill came out to the entry hall, with Shilo trailing behind him.

“McGill, is this my uncle’s cat? Show him the picture, Lizzie.”

He bent over and looked at the photo. “Yup, that’s Becket all right.”

Wow. The cat had been living in the woods for so long? Amazing.

“I gotta get going,” McGill said, straightening to his full height. “Come on, Lizzie, I’ll give you a lift back to town.”

She rose and nodded. She turned to me and said awkwardly, “Thanks for showing me the castle. It’s cool.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “If you’d like to come out again, let me know. Just don’t stow away in a car trunk.”

Her eyes lit up, but she merely nodded, and trailed McGill to the double oak door.

“McGill, would you have a moment free tomorrow?” I asked.

“I might. How can I help you?”

I was aware that I was seriously imposing on his time, but there was so much I needed to know about Autumn Vale, and people I needed to talk to. “I have to talk to Junior Bradley about the zoning for this real estate venture my uncle and Rusty Turner were involved in. Would you go with me to talk to him?”

“Well, sure, I can go. But Junior’s an okay guy. He’s just got a lot on his plate lately.”

“You think it would be all right to talk to him alone?”

“Yeah,” McGill said. “I have to deal with him all the time, and he’s fine, once you get past his attitude. All business when it comes down to it.”

“Okay.”

“But if you still want me to go with you, just give me a call.” McGill said he’d be back to continue filling in holes when the cops released the site, and then he and Lizzie left, the Smart car tootling down the winding laneway. McGill beeped the horn just before they disappeared around the bend.

Shilo said she was going to find Magic, who had hopped away after being startled in the kitchen. I stood looking out over the scene, leaning against the door frame. I was so tired, for a moment I felt like I was floating away above the grounds, looking down the hole to poor Tom at the bottom. It was a nightmare vision, and I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the lingering impression. Whatever he had done in life, he hadn’t deserved to be murdered.