Page 56 of Murder Will Out
He stood up straight, brushed the lapels of his sport coat, and smoothed a hand over his comb-over, which only made the bare patch of scalp underneath more obvious. He smiled again and said brightly, loud enough for other diners to hear, “Have a wonderful evening, ladies. Be careful on that drive home!” And he walked away, slipping out of sight into the hallway in back where the restrooms were located.
Catherine froze. “Oh no,” she breathed to Willow. “He knows. He knows everything. He—what?”
Willow’s face had gone very still, as though she had barely heard Catherine, had barely heard most of Hank’s speech. But now her eyes darted up to Catherine’s, and she said, “ItwasHank.”
“What?”
Willow insisted, leaning forward, “The man in the church vestibule. It was Hank. I recognize the voice now—in fact, eventhe words were the same: ‘Be very careful before you think about crossing me.’ It was Hank.”
The two of them gazed at one another in horror. Then Catherine made a quick survey of the room. “Where’s Nick? I’m not budging one step from this booth until he comes back.”
Willow stood. “You text him; I’ll go look for him. He couldn’t have gone far; he went to the back. He may still be on the phone.”
Catherine choked something unintelligible to Willow’s back as the determined musician strode to the rear of the restaurant, but Willow was out of earshot. Catherine took a deep breath, picked up her phone, and brought up Nick’s contact information.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The hallway in the back of the Raven had the requisite men’s and women’s restrooms and an ungendered one in between; entry to the kitchen was at one end, and a door to the parking lot was at the other. Nick was nowhere in sight. Willow loitered for a moment to see if he would reappear.
A sudden thud and a yelp sounded from behind a door markedEMPLOYEES ONLY, as though something heavy had fallen. Thinking someone might have been injured, Willow opened the door to what was apparently a good-size broom closet.
And closed the door immediately.
Immediately wasn’t soon enough. Not only had one of the pair inside seen her, but she had seen them as well. And it was a sight she never wanted to see again.
Her feet carried her rapidly out of the hallway and back to the booth where Catherine sat waiting. The librarian took one look at Willow’s face and asked, “Willow? What happened? Did you find Nick? Did you run into Hank?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Willow replied, fightingback the inappropriate wave of laughter threatening to burst from behind her carefully closed lips. She sat down again opposite Catherine, who waited patiently for her to gather herself.
Finally, Willow said in a voice that was almost tranquil, “I think… I think Iron Man is… Hank.”
In a puzzled voice, Catherine said, “Um… that seems unlikely. Why would you say that?”
Willow replied, “Because about two minutes ago, I saw them together in the broom closet across from the ladies’ room.”
Catherine, stunned, stammered, “When you say, ‘together,’ you don’t mean…”
Willow nodded and gulped audibly. “Together. Yeah. I mean.” Willow had stepped backward and shut the door as fast as she could, but not before seeing far more of Hank Ramsey Jr. than she could ever forget, however much she wished she could wipe the image from her mind: Naomi, her back to the wall, her legs around Hank’s midsection; Hank hadn’t seen Willow, since his face was buried in Naomi’s neck and his attention was definitely not on the closet door, but Willow had seen the slightly bored expression on Naomi’s face turn to panic as she saw Willow standing in the doorway. She shuddered. “Some things you can’t unsee.”
Catherine put up her hands as if in self-defense. “Please, no visuals. You can keep the details to yourself.” Then she winced. “Too late. They’re there.”
Into the shocked silence, Nick strode back in through the front of the restaurant and slid into the booth again. “What’s up?” He looked at their aghast faces. “Hey, what’s up? What happened?”
Willow managed a shaky and slightly maniacal smile. “You missed all the fun. Where’d you go?”
“I told you, phone call. I took it outside.” He turned to Catherine. “Care to explain? I’d ask Willow, but she looks like she’s seen a ghost—”
At that, Willow began to laugh, one of those breathlessteary-eyed fits one prayed would stop before you passed out from lack of oxygen.
Catherine reached across the table to pat her shoulder comfortingly. “Actually,” she said matter-of-factly, “she apparently takes ghosts in stride; one of the Cameron House spirits has been passing her notes. This was different. A few minutes ago, she witnessed Hank Ramsey and Naomi Talbot having sex in a broom closet.”
Willow managed to squeak out, “Infinitely more terrifying,” before the laughter overwhelmed her and she helplessly put her head down on the table.
Nick’s face blanched. “She sawwhat?” He looked back at Willow. “Seriously? Please tell me you’re both joking before my brain starts—oh no, now I’m imagining it.”
“Definitely—not—a visual—” Willow lifted her head briefly from the table and gasped out, “Never—unsee—” She dropped her head back on the table.
By now, Catherine had started giggling too. Nick sat there staring into space. “Okay then,” he said. “Hank’s the one with the pepperoni.”
