Emma saw Gold talking to David as she came into the store. She winced slightly when she saw the duct tape Gold was buying. Nothing like seeing a burglary victim buying repair tools when you were the cop who hadn't caught the crook (yet, hadn't caught him yet).
David, being a complete idiot, was doing his Valentine's Day shopping after work on Valentine's Day. And, because he was a complete idiot, he wasn't even getting a box of cheap chocolate or half-wilted flowers, just a Valentine's Day card. Cards. Like no one was going to find that suspicious.
A complete idiot.
There was a big line, because David wasn't the only guy in Storybrooke going out shopping at the last minute, although Emma thought a lot of them were making a better effort than he was. She was thinking about coming back later. It wasn't like this cold case could get any colder.
But, Tom had already seen her. "Can I help you, Sheriff?" he asked, as a tall, almost skeletally thin man with a fringe of gray hair put down a bag of assorted, mini candy bars and a package of Keane's Frozen Fritter Batter for Do-It-Yourself Fritter-Frying.
Mr. McKeeby, that was his name. He was married to a small, plump woman who Emma had heard complain you just couldn't get a decent, deep-fried candy bar in the States like you could in Scotland.
The less she knew about that the better.
"I had a few questions," Emma told Tom. "If you've got the time. I can come back tomorrow. . . ."
"No, no, now's good," Tom said. "Hey, Rowley! Get over here! I need you on the register."
A teenage boy restocking shelves and looking very put upon, stopped what he was doing and hurried to the front, a box full of chocolates still in his arms. Tom made way for him and led Emma into the back. "Thanks," he said. "It's been crazy all day, and you wouldn't believe the things people have been asking for. Does this look like a See's Candy store? Do you know how many people I've had to tell we don't stock See's? Nobody stocks See's. Except See's. If your girlfriend wanted See's, you should have ordered it a week ago. Why don't they believe me?" He shook his head. "Sorry, you said you had some questions?"
"Yeah, I'm doing follow up on a cold case of Graham's. He might have asked you about it. There was a woman, Isabel Lacey, who was attacked near here five years ago. Do you remember anything about that night?"
"Oh, yeah, Isabel. That was bad. She was here just before it happened, buying milk."
"Buying milk?" Emma said, thinking of Elizabeth's description, blood and milk pooled up in the alley. "Kind of late to be doing that."
"She said they were all out. Mayor Mills sent her out so Henry would have some for breakfast."
"You remember a lot of details."
"Yeah, well, it was a quiet night. First day of school is always like that. There's a rush of in the afternoon, people getting notebooks and pens they thought they had but couldn't find when they got to class that day, and a few others who are getting graphing paper or whatever it is they just found out they needed. Then, everyone's safe at home doing homework by seven o'clock. I could tell you every person who came in here that night."
"Your memory's that good?" She wanted to believe Tom. It all fit, and these were the details she'd been looking for. But, it had been five years.
Tom shrugged. "Good enough. Besides, I wrote it all down, you know, so I wouldn't forget anything if the sheriff—the old sheriff—asked me about it. I must have been the last person to talk to her before it happened."
If the sheriff asked about it.
If.
"What do you remember?"
"Like I said, it was a slow night. The school secretary stopped in to get Migraine Excedrin and two teachers bought aspirin and antacid. They were out of here by eight. Things were pretty dead until about a quarter to nine. That's when Nott showed up."
"Nott?" Emma said. "Keith Nott?"
"Yeah, I remember. He was picking up stuff for a hangover cure for a friend. He was talking to him on the phone, telling him he'd found the eggs and asking what else the guy wanted him to get, when Isabel came in. That was right before we closed."
"Did he follow her?"
"I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't him. He was still talking to his friend when she left, told him the stuff he wanted wasn't here. I didn't get him out of here till fifteen after. He'd hung up on his friend by then and bought a couple six packs and some aspirin. Isabel would have—If nothing had happened, she would have been home by then. We got Keith out, closed the doors, and got everything locked up. We were out of here by around nine-thirty. It was maybe a half-hour later I heard sirens going down the street, but I didn't know what happened till the next morning."
"You're certain?" Emma said. "Nott was here the whole time?"
"Look, I'd like to think he did it, Sheriff. Makes sense, doesn't it? The town perv. Lock him up and throw away the key. But, whoever did it is still out there. I just hope it was some sicko passing through and that he won't ever come back. If we're really lucky, he's already dead. That's what I told the sher—told Graham when he asked me."
"Graham asked you?" Emma repeated, brightening. Graham had asked. He may not have followed up with Elizabeth but he'd checked with the other witnesses, like Tom. He'd been doing his job.
"Yeah, it was the case he was working on right before he died." He shook his head. "He looked bad when he came in. It was just a couple days before he died, but I didn't know. . . ."
"None of us did," Emma said mechanically. The brief burst of hope died inside her. Right before he died? Graham hadn't followed up any of this till right before he died?
When he was getting free of Regina, Emma thought. He was doing the things he would have done all along, if it weren't for her. Even inside her own head, it sounded weak.
Other details. She needed to focus on other details. This was about Isabel, not Graham. Maybe, when this was done, she'd understand why Graham did what he did. Maybe she wouldn't, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the victim.
OK, first things first. Despite the stories Granny and Ruby had heard, Isabel had been getting milk, not looking for a drunken orgy. Had she known she was in danger?
"Did Isabel seem all right?" Emma asked. "She didn't seem afraid, mention being followed, anything like that?"
"She was fine," Tom said. "The mayor worked her like a dog, always sending her out to take care of things all hours of the day or night. That wasn't the first late night run she got sent on, either. She was here five years and never had a day off once. She looked tired, but that was it. And you kind of expected that. It was Henry's first day of school, after all." Tom grinned. "Did you know Henry called Isabel, 'Mom,' when she came to pick him up? I bet the mayor loved that."
"Isabel told you that?" It was easy for Emma to feel sorry for anyone who worked for Regina—she wanted to think the worst. But, that was letting feelings cloud her judgment. Granny and Ruby had sounded pretty certain about Isabel, too. Tom might be just as mistaken as they were. Was Isabel the type who gossiped about the boss? Maybe played the 'Poor-Me' card?
"Nah, I heard if from some of the moms who'd been in earlier. I asked Isabel if it was true, and she looked all embarrassed, said Henry shouldn't say things like that." Tom grimaced. "I could have offered her a ride home. I mean, it was right before closing. But, you just don't think of stuff like that happening here. And Isabel worked for the mayor. There isn't anyone in town who'll cross her."
No, there's not, Emma thought.
No one . . . except Gold.
X
Emma made one more trip back to Granny's. She searched the office again first, looking for anything else Graham might have left behind about the case, but came up empty. She hesitated by the coatrack before going out. Graham's jacket was still there. It still smelled of his aftershave, a strange, dark smell Emma had never been able to place.
Graham, what did you do? How could you let this go?
She didn't know the answer. But, her gut told her, whatever else had been going on, Graham was an honest cop. Whatever had happened, whatever his reasons, he had been trying to set it right. She had to believe that. She grabbed his jacket, leaving her own behind. Whatever was going on, Graham, I'm going to see this through for you.
All the roads kept leading back to Gold. But, Emma didn't have anything except hints and insinuations—and she'd already seen how far off those could get. Isabel Lacey, party girl, town tramp, and bar hopper extraordinaire was a nanny who made late night milk runs. If Emma went to Gold with what she had now and if he had something to hide (which he did, he always did), he'd run her in circles. She'd never get the truth out of him.
And there was still a burglary to solve.
When she got to Granny's, it was busy, couples all over the place. Emma wondered if there was something she was missing about the diner or if this was where everyone in Storybrooke had their first date. She was betting on the latter.
Granny was at the counter. Emma knew she didn't live there. She'd seen her at the B&B and out on the street. But, she couldn't remember ever coming into the diner and not seeing Granny there.
Maybe Granny was really twins and one of them was always here. Or triplets. Triplets would work better. One at the counter, one at the B&B, and one taking walks in the fresh air . . . OK, she was tired.
Ruby would be a better person to ask. She'd been friends with Graham—real friends. Maybe she knew Graham was taken, even if she didn't know who by (because there was no way Ruby would have ever kept that a secret), but they'd had a brother-sister vibe Emma had never quite understood, like two cats in a world full of dogs. Wolves. Ruby's thing was wolves. And so was Graham's. Two cat-wolves in a world full of dogs . . . yeah, really tired.
Anyhow, Granny had still known Graham pretty well and generally seemed to approve of him. She might know something.
Emma thought about the different ways she could approach this, but Granny looked even more tired than Emma and a lot more cranky. She decided to go for direct.
"Granny, I'm looking for some—some notes Graham might have left behind. I don't think they were at his apartment." If they were, they were long gone, destined for a landfill. But, Graham would have been careful. If there was anything else he'd written down about this case, something he hadn't hidden in the office, Emma had to believe he'd found a better place for it. "You and Ruby knew him pretty well. Can you think of any place he would have hidden something?"
Granny looked thoughtful, absently rubbing at her arm. "He liked to go to the woods, sometimes," Granny said. "There are cabins up there. I think there was one he rented a few times from Gold. You might try there."
Cabins. This was the second time today someone had mentioned cabins. Who else had brought them up? Oh, that was right. "Hey, Granny, do you know anything about a guy who works at the hospital? Peregrine Ghast?"
"Not much," Granny said. "He likes crepes better than pancakes. Oh, and he had a son."
"Had?"
"He died, I think. Funny thing, Peregrine's been coming in here for years, but I only found out about his son a few weeks ago. I think he must have been a solder. Peregrine said he'd died in the service of his country. What was his name? Gaston, I think."
"Gaston Ghast?"
"I think he changed his name, Captain Gaston, that's what Peregrine called him."
Another mystery, Emma thought, but one she didn't have time for. It wasn't any of her business, anyway.
X
The truck came to an abrupt stop somewhere in the woods. Keith tumbled against the side of it, unable to catch himself with his hands tied behind him. The back of the pickup went down. The huge man, Dove, was there. But, even worse, so was Mr. Gold. He held a gun and was pointing it right at Keith.
"Out," he ordered.
Keith did his best to scramble out, stumbling to the ground.
"Up," Gold said.
Keith moved. At The Rabbit Hole, after a few too many drinks, especially on rent day, there were always a few guys who would start mouthing off about Gold. Small, skinny gimp. Take away the money, and what was left? Who did he think he was, anyway?
That was The Rabbit Hole, one of the few places Gold never went. Keith had still seen more than a couple guys wet their pants when they thought they heard a Scottish accent or the tap of a cane behind them. He'd laughed with everybody else. He wasn't laughing now.
"Take the truck back to town," Gold told Dove. "Check on Isabel." He turned back to Keith. "Walk."
They went into the cabin. It was a small place, simply furnished. There was a bed near the door. Nothing fancy, just a twin. Not a place where people had romantic getaways. Well, of course. This was Gold. Keith had been told the old monster had a young, pretty wife but Keith hadn't seen any evidence of her. The dried up bundle of sticks had probably killed her and buried her in the back yard. Then, when he wanted to get away from it all, he came up to his cabin and thought about who he was going to kill next.
Which was looking like Keith. Even if Gold rented this place out, nobody would be back here before the thaw. Even if Gold left his body here, no one was going to find him before spring.
Something hard hit Keith from behind. He fell down onto the bed. It was hard and lumpy. Rolling over as fast as he could, he tried to think of some way to defend himself. But, the end of Gold's cane was pressing into his throat.
And Gold—Gold didn't look like anything human. His hair had tumbled down, making two, huge shadows where his eyes should be. In the dim light, his skin looked almost metallic. When he spoke, his teeth glittered like so many fangs.
"I'm going to let you breathe in a second," Gold said. "And you're going to say two sentences. The first is going to tell me what you were told to do. The second is going to tell me who told you to do it. Do you understand the rules?"
"Keith couldn't speak but he mouthed the word. "Yeah."
"Good. Let's begin."
Gold lifted the cane though he still held it ready. Keith had no doubt the man could beat him to death—no doubt he wanted to beat him to death. "The nanny, Isabel. I was supposed to get her." He saw Gold's knuckles whiten around the cane. "We weren't supposed to hurt her! We—we were just going to—to scare you, make you realize you can't go around doing whatever you want to people. That was all!"
Gold gave him a too toothy smile. "I can't, can I? And who is 'we'? Who was in on this with you?"
Keith swallowed around the pain in his throat. Gold lifted his cane, ready to strike.
"Peregrine Ghast!" Keith yelped. "It was all his idea! He was going to lock her up, and pay me off. That's all I know!"
"Peregrine Ghast?" Gold stared at him. "From the hospital?"
"There's a secret psych ward. He was going to hide her there. No one was supposed to get hurt. We were just going to scare you! I swear, that was all!"
"Why?" Gold's voice fell to a soft, deadly whisper. "Why would Ghast want to help you do this?"
"He—he just said what everybody said. Isabel was a troublemaker. Said he had a son. Bright kid, golden future, and Isabel ruined it for him."
Gold stared at him. "Ghast," he said. "Chevalier de Ghaston."
"Gaston, yeah, that's what he said was the kid's name."
Gold was pulling out his phone. "Dove," he said. "Get to Isabel, now! Don't let anyone but me into the house. Peregrine Ghast was behind it. He's trying to kill her."