Free Grace Among Thieves by Julie Hyzy Page A

forensics would be a nightmare.
    “John?” I urged.
    John’s gaze swept the floor behind me. His eyes tightened and reddened and I knew even before he turned away that he couldn’t bear to look at her. Taking his arms, I pulled him around so that I was facing Lenore. Fortunately for me, John was large enough to effectively block the view.
    Once settled again, he pursed his lips, then swallowed. “I’m not usually rattled,” he said.
    “I know.”
    “She was such a young thing.”
    “John. I need to know what happened upstairs. Where is this Mark Ellroy?”
    “If he doesn’t make it . . .” John’s lower lids burned red. “These people are my responsibility.”
    “Take a deep breath. Tell me what you know.”
    “Yes, of course.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You remember yesterday? I promised to keep an eye on Lenore. I did my best. But my job is to provide a worthwhile experience for
all
our guests, not be a babysitter. After I explained to Lenore how important it was that she stay with the group, I thought she got it. I really did.”
    “Go on.”
    “She’s a—she
was
a sweet girl. Scatterbrained, but sweet. I knew she might forget the rules and Mark was all by himself. Like your security chief suggested—a buddy system. They were singles, traveling alone, and seemed to get along well enough. I thought I might be helping them both, in a way. Lenore didn’t seem to mind, so they paired off.”
    “And someone in the mansion attacked them?”
    He nodded, eyes reddening still. “We heard Mark shout and I ran back there to find him on the ground, bleeding. He’d crawled out of the stairwell, looking for help. Just outside the stairs near the Highland Guest Room. You know the one.”
    I nodded, but none of this was making sense. “What were they doing in the stairwell?”
    John was having a hard time keeping himself together. “Lenore had been talking with one of the docents. I think she was interested in a particular piece and had questions. When it was time for the group to move on, I figured she was safe. How much trouble could she get into while talking with one of the staff? So we continued our tour. But because of the buddy system, Mark stayed back with her.”
    “He told you all this?”
    “No. I’m telling you what I remember. Mark was in too much pain to say much. It was the docent who killed her. The guy who worked here.” His words caught.
    “Oh my god,” I said. One of our staff? How could that be? “You saw him? You’d be able to recognize him?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “The killer? I don’t know.”
    “The man who was shot. Mark Ellroy?”
    “We have a doctor in the group,” he answered dully. “A woman. I left her up there with him.”
    I turned toward Lenore’s body. “Did you touch anything around her?”
    “I had to find out if she was still alive,” John said in monotone and held up two fingers, covered in blood. “I checked. She wasn’t.”
    “Has anyone called the police?”
    “Your chief of security.” Although John’s voice had gone flat, his eyes were wild. I was afraid the man was going into shock.
    “Are you sure?”
    He shook his head, looking lost.
    Monica took that moment to peer out the door again. “Get a chair for this man, would you?” I said.
    The look of horror on her face reminded me that not everyone happened upon murder victims as often as I had. “Please,” I added, “bring it to the door, I’ll take it from here.”
    She disappeared and in a moment was back with an old metal folding chair that screeched as I opened it. I thanked her then grabbed John by the arm. “Here,” I said, placing the chair in the doorway, facing him away from Lenore.
    John lowered himself onto the small chair and dropped his head into his hands.
    I pulled up my walkie-talkie. “Terrence, are you there?”
    Lots of static. No answer.
    “Terrence?”
    I switched channels. “Security, this is Grace. Has anyone called the