Speaks the Blue Jay

by K. J. Emrick

  Ginger shook her head and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a finger behind her glasses. “No. I don’t think so. Does… does your friend Jack work with my uncle?”

  “Your uncle?” Miranda asked. “Who’s that?”

  “Yes, my Uncle Ben. He’s a cop too, in Melbourne. You met him, I think?”

  Ben Clark. So, Ginger was the niece of the mystery detective who had tried to take control of this murder investigation. Interesting. Now the pieces of the puzzle were starting to take shape. Maybe this was why Ben Clark was here. Maybe it wasn’t all that suspicious after all.

  “I did meet your uncle,” Miranda said with a warm smile. She was hoping that was enough of a connection for Ginger to trust her. “Jack doesn’t work with him. I mean they’re both police officers but Jack’s a detective with the Moonlight Bay PD. He’s the one overseeing the investigation.”

  “Is it really an investigation?” Ginger’s voice was pleading. “I mean, it could have been something simple, right? Couldn’t it have been a hit and run? Or… or natural causes, maybe?”

  “We really don’t think so, Ginger.” Miranda said it quietly, but she felt like Ginger deserved the truth. “However he died, it does need to be investigated.”

  “And it’s definitely Caleb?”

  “I don’t think there’s any doubt at this point. Jack is bringing Alfie out to the lakebed to make an actual identification, but yes. I’m just as sure it’s him as everyone else is.”

  “Oh,” was all Ginger said to that. She gulped back some air, and then nodded over, and over, like she was answering her own secret questions again and again.

  Kyle, of course, had to put his two cents in. “I don’t know, Miranda. She seems pretty sincere to me. I think she might even have really loved this Caleb guy.”

  Miranda had to agree it was possible, but at the same time there were lots of reasons to be in shock when you heard the news that someone you knew had died.

  “Well,” Ginger said after a long moment. “Why don’t you come in. Maybe we can wait for them to get back from… from Caleb, together. You can sit down on that chair if you like.” She nodded over towards a battered wicker chair with a big, fluffy cushion on it.

  “Thanks,” Miranda said. She dropped down into the chair, Kyle floating close behind. “So, Ben Clark. That’s your uncle? Does he come here to see you often?”

  “Yes, he comes here a lot. He’s here all the time,” Ginger said, dabbing at her eyes again. “Not as much as me, of course. This place is kind of my home for now.”

  That didn’t answer the question of why Ben Clark came here, of course. Or what Ginger was doing here, either. She wanted to ask directly, but somehow, she thought that would be pushing her luck too far. If Ginger clammed up on her and stopped talking altogether, then she wouldn’t be any help to Jack at all.

  So she decided to come at things slantways. “So, did you know Caleb Owen well?” Miranda said gently.

  “What? Why do you ask? Why would you ask me that?” She wrapped her arms around herself and huddled into her dress.

  That wasn’t an answer. In fact, it was more like Ginger was trying to fend off the question entirely.

  Miranda decided to try a different tact. “Well, like I said, I just came to check on you. You seem like you’re really upset. Can I get you anything?”

  “That’s really kind of you,” Ginger said quickly. “But no, I don’t want anything, thanks. I just want to be left alone. Can you… can you do that for me? Just leave me alone?”

  Miranda nodded. She couldn’t press too hard. She needed to earn Ginger’s trust first if she was going to open up. Jack might be able to work some of his police officer magic on not only Ginger but the rest of the odd collection of people here at the Blue Jay, but Miranda only knew one way to reach people. With kindness and understanding.

  So she got up from the chair, and laid a gentle hand on Ginger’s shoulder. “I’ll be around if you decide you need anything, okay? I know we only just met, but both Jack and I are here to help.”

  And as she turned to leave, her sympathy paid off.

  “Look, can I confess something?” Ginger said, then quickly added, “Not confess, I mean, but can I show you something? I know you’re not a cop, but I don’t think I’d be comfortable showing this to a police officer. I haven’t even shown it to my uncle. Is that… would that be okay?”

  “Of course, you can show me anything you like,” Miranda said, her hopes rising that maybe she was getting to the bottom of this mystery after all.

  Kyle pretended to blow out a big breath. “That was quite the gamble you just played. What would you have done if she let you walk out of the room?”

  Miranda shot him a look as Ginger turned away.

  “Oh,” he said, correctly interpreting what she meant. “You would have just walked away. Of course you would. Because somehow things always turn out right for you, don’t they Miranda Wylder?”

  He said it in a kind way, but maybe with a little snarkiness, too. Was it possible for spirit guides to be jealous of the living? That was just ridiculous.

  Kind of like she’d been jealous of Skye, she supposed. Silly. Ridiculous.

  Ahem. Right.

  Without another word, Ginger crossed her room and opened the door of a wardrobe over in the corner. Miranda watched with interest, as the woman dropped to her knees and started rummaging through the contents. A moment later, she had something in her hand.

  “Wow,” Kyle said. “That’s an actual tape recorder. People still use those? I thought everything was digital these days.”

  Miranda hadn't seen one of these tape recorders in years. She was in her early forties but still remembered how they worked. She had many fond memories of listening to audio tapes of bedtime stories on one of these when she was a child. Of course, hers had been larger than this one which was the size of a micro tape recorder. “You have a recording of something.” Miranda said it as a statement, not a question.

  “Yes,” Ginger said. “It’s Caleb’s. He used to record a lot of his business deals. I didn’t… I didn’t know what he was into until he went missing three days ago. Then I listened to this one. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “Okay,” Miranda’s curiosity was immediately piqued. “What was Caleb’s business?”

  “Cars, just cars,” Ginger said vaguely. “Fast cars, mostly.”

  “You mean he was a car dealer?”

  “I guess he, um, got cars for people.” Ginger shrugged as if to play down her answer, but it was obvious to Miranda that even if she didn’t want to come right out and say it, what she meant was hot cars. The kind that were obtained illegally by one means or another. Now she really wanted to hear what was on that tape.

  Ginger sat down on the couch and set the cassette recorder beside her. She pushed a button and there was the distinctive sound of a cassette winding back. After a few seconds of that, Ginger pressed play, and a conversation started.

  “I always get you a fast car, don’t I? I don’t know what you think the problem is but don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never let you down before, have I?”

  The man on the tape sounded a little whiny, his voice high pitched and squeaky.

  “That’s Caleb,” Ginger whispered as the tape went on.

  The second voice was male, deep, and gravelly. “Didn’t say that, now did I Caleb? But this one is serious business and that last car you got me choked twice before it got going. No one needs that. Not when they’re in a hurry to get away.”

  Miranda very quickly came to the conclusion that the ‘fast car’ mentioned on the tape was of the stolen variety. The kind that a man with the right skills could easily steal with just a little creative fiddling with the ignition wires. The kind of car that was used when somebody was in a hurry to get away from a crime, like the second man had hinted at.

  “Well,” she heard Caleb saying, “if you’re not happy with what you’re getting from me, I suggest y
ou go somewhere else. Of course, you know very well you’re not going to find anyone else as good as me. Not on this kind of short notice.”

  “There’s always somewhere else for me to go, Caleb Owen. You’ll want to check that tone and learn a little respect. The last person who spoke to me that way, well, they’re still finding pieces of him. Do you hear me?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Caleb sounded like he’d been physically slapped. Whoever this other person was, he was taking the threat seriously. “Look, let’s just get down to business. You want a car. I can get you a car.”

  Whoever this man with the gravelly voice, Caleb Owen was afraid of him. That was very interesting to Miranda. Kyle, too, apparently. He leaned down very close to the tape recorder as it played on, hanging on every word.

  “Alright, Caleb,” the man went on, “but if you and your partner don’t keep your end up on this deal, I’ll be paying you back for sure. If this car dies, it won’t be the only thing.”

  “Sure, Braydon. Sure.”

  Braydon?

  The phone call ended with an audible clicking noise, and the tape came to an abrupt end. Miranda chewed on what she had heard in that last part.

  “Who’s Braydon?” she asked Ginger.

  “I don’t know. There’s parts of this I don’t understand.” Ginger chewed on a manicured fingernail. “Most of it, actually. I never knew Caleb was into anything like this.”

  Braydon. Miranda repeated that name in her head over and over. Braydon. The name was familiar, somehow. It was unique, and not a name you heard very often, but she couldn’t place it. She decided to let that stew at the back of her mind for a while and come back to it. The rest of what she had heard needed her attention.

  “Okay. Well, then who was Caleb’s partner? Who was he working with?”

  Shrugging, she picked up the tape player. “I don’t know that either.”

  Kyle scoffed loudly. Thankfully, Miranda was the only one who could hear it. “Well, that was a big waste. Tells us everything and nothing, all at the same time.”

  Miranda wasn’t so sure about that. This could very well be the motive for Caleb’s death, right here. If nothing else there was a clear threat to Caleb’s life recorded on that little antiquated piece of technology.

  If this car dies, it won’t be the only thing.

  Except, Ginger apparently had no idea who that second voice belonged to. She didn’t know who Caleb was working with, either. Either way, Kyle had half a point. This was all they were going to get from Ginger Peck for now.

  “Thank you for sharing this,” Miranda said to her. “Is it okay if we take this tape recorder from you to give to Jack?”

  For a moment Ginger held the device tight in her hand, close to her chest, her eyes wide. It was like she felt giving over that recording would be giving up the last bit of Caleb that she had left to her. It made Miranda wonder again exactly how close these two were.

  “You were dating Caleb, right?” she asked. “He was your boyfriend?”

  The light in Ginger’s eyes changed, and her expression smoothed out until it was completely unreadable. “Our relationship,” she said, “was complicated. Forgive me, but you are still a stranger to me. On the other hand, you and your detective friend Jack are trying to find out who killed Caleb and I don’t really want to talk about my personal life with my Uncle Ben, even if he is a police detective also, so…”

  With some reluctance, she handed the recorder over to Miranda, who made sure to slip it securely into her front pocket.

  “Whew, great,” Kyle said, his tone sarcastic. “Now that we’ve got that vital clue that proves Caleb could use antique electronics, can we get out of here? I don’t want to miss it when Jack gets back from identifying the dead guy in the lake.”

  Miranda shot him a glare that would have stunned anyone else into silence. Obviously, being able to talk with no one else hearing him had really made his manners sloppy. He shrugged, and smiled, which was as much of an apology as Miranda was likely to get out of him.

  When she opened the door to Ginger’s room, a furtive motion on her right drew her attention down the hall. Detective Ben Clark was there, about to leave, until he realized he’d been spotted.

  “Were you listening at the door?” Miranda asked incredulously.

  His smirk was condescending. “I’ll thank you to remember that I am a police officer. I don’t skulk about and listen in at people’s doors.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” she pressed him.

  “I’m sure Ginger told you she’s my niece. I have every reason to be worried about her.” Then he strode by them as if he’d meant to do that the whole time. “I’m going out front. I think your friend Jack is back and I don’t want to miss hearing about him and Alfie identifying the dead guy in the lake.”

  He didn’t look back when he said it, but Miranda could just imagine the smug expression he must be wearing on his face.

  That was what Kyle had said to her, almost word for word and that meant that it was even more certain that Ben Clark could, indeed, see and hear the ghost of Kyle Hunter.

  What other ghosts had he been speaking to recently, she wondered?

  Chapter 7

  “If you ask me,” Kyle said, even though Miranda hadn’t asked him a thing, “the whole lot of them are in on it. It’s a real Murder on the Orient Express sort of thing.”

  Miranda followed Kyle’s lead to where they could hear the sound of voices talking in the dining room. It was just off the lobby, to the left side. Kyle’s paranoia was annoying her. She doubted seriously that they had walked into some grand conspiracy with everyone around them involved in killing one person. For one thing, the four people here at the Blue Jay Bed and Breakfast were at each other’s throats, almost literally. Hardly a unified front for a group trying to cover up a murder.

  For another thing, her sixth sense had been humming since they found Caleb’s body sticking out of the lowered waterline of the lake. There was something here for sure, something that was rubbing up raw against her nerves. Not something that screamed get out get out, before it’s too late, maybe, but something.

  She hadn’t seen anything of the dead man’s ghost, either. Where was Caleb Owen? Had his spirit been so content about being struck down and dumped in the middle of nowhere that he just moved on to the next plane of existence, just like that? Most people who were murdered were so upset by the experience that their ghosts had to hang around at least for a little while to figure out what had happened to them.

  So where was Caleb?

  The dining room was set out in what Miranda imagined was pretty much the standard Bed and Breakfast fashion. There was one long table set over by the windows for when meals were to be served, covered by an inexpensive but stylish white cloth. A smaller table off to the side held an old coffee maker, the pot empty and stained. Styrofoam cups full of sugars and stir sticks were there as well. An open doorway led to a kitchen where Miranda could just see a stove and a fridge and mismatched cabinets.

  In the middle of the room stood Jack, talking with Alfie and Skye and now with Ben Clark as well. The conversation looked serious. At the table, Jean-Paul sat very close to Sapphire. The only thing between them was Butter’s furry self, his tail wagging back and forth.

  When he saw her, Jack excused himself from the others and came right over to her. When he hugged her, it felt like everything was right with the world again, even if there was a dead man lying only a mile or so from here.

  “Okay, okay,” Kyle said. “That’s enough of that. You two can get a room here later, if you want. Remember, we’re trying to solve a murder, right?”

  Miranda chuckled, and when Jack looked at her quizzically she explained, “Kyle is telling us to get a room.”

  “Hmm,” Jack mused. “Remind me to thank him for the suggestion later.”

  If it were possible for a ghost to blush through all that transparent haze, that was exactly what Kyle was doing right now. “That is not what I meant,
and you know it.”

  Jack held her another few seconds before letting her go. “Anyway, we don’t have time for that right now.”

  “Which is what I did say,” Kyle complained.

  Not hearing the whining of the voice from beyond the grave, Jack continued, “We have uniformed officers guarding the crime scene now, with one lane of the road blocked off so I’m sure if anyone does end up going through there the story will hit the news as soon as they see all that. I’m glad they got there so quick. I was worried that we would get back out there to that spot only to find Caleb’s body gone, or something.”

  “Did you find out anything more about what happened?” Miranda asked him.

  “No. Not yet. The forensics unit from the Australian Federal boys will be out within the hour. We’ll know more after that. Alfie did make a positive identification of Caleb’s body, but I mean, it wasn’t like we didn’t know that already, right? How about you? Find out anything interesting?”

  “Well,” she said, and couldn’t help the smile that came over her face, “as a matter of fact…”

  He saw her eyes dart back toward the lobby, asking him to speak with her in private. He nodded before turning to Jean-Paul. “Can you keep everyone here for us?”

  “Uh, mais oui, but you will be quick, won’t you?”

  Jack looked at Miranda for confirmation, and then nodded. “Yes. We’ll be quick.”

  “Sure,” Kyle grumbled, “because we’ve got hardly anything to say.”

  Out in the lobby, Miranda pulled Jack halfway across the room, toward the front door, before she said anything. She took the little tape recorder out of her pocket and gave him a brief synopsis of what she’d learned from Ginger Peck. He listened to it all without interrupting.

  “Interesting,” he said after she finished that part of her story. He eyed the recorder, obviously wanting to sit down and listen to it all himself right now. There just wasn’t time. “Hold onto that for me, okay? So, we need to find this Braydon person, and we need to find out who Caleb’s partner was… you okay?”