Hidden Deception: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  “A few days ago,” he answered. “But the medical examiner determined that she died the same day she went missing.”

  “How?” Mr. Garrett asked, needing to know what happened, but not wanting to know at the same time. “How did she die?”

  “It looks like the cause of death was strangulation.” Dimples pursed his lips, not liking this any more than me.

  The mother nodded her head, then glanced at me. “What day did you find her body?”

  “Tuesday morning,” I answered.

  She caught her breath and glanced at her husband. “I told you.” He nodded, and she turned back to us. “This may sound strange but, the day after she disappeared, I felt her presence. It was like she was telling me she was all right. I had felt her presence at odd times throughout the years, mostly when I was grieving.

  “Because of that, I had a pretty good idea that she had died. But Tuesday morning, the strangest thing happened. It was like she came to me, and I felt surrounded by her spirit. Then she was gone, and I haven’t felt her since.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. Everyone’s gazes shifted to me, and I knew I had to explain. “I was thinking of buying the house where we found her remains, but I felt like something was wrong. The feeling intensified outside, near the foundation. When we took a closer look, we found some damage there and decided to dig it up. That’s when we found her body. The moment we found her, the feeling left me.”

  Mrs. Garrett inhaled sharply and caught my gaze. Surprise that I had felt something similar tied us together, and a sense of understanding passed between us. It comforted her and also helped her know she wasn’t crazy after all.

  Her husband wanted more details, and Dimples filled them both in, explaining where Riley had been found, and also adding that another body was with hers. This surprised them both and sent goosebumps up my arms, along with a feeling of dread that I didn’t understand.

  “We’re on our way to the boy’s parents home now.”

  “That is so strange,” Mr. Garrett said, oddly comforted that his daughter wasn’t alone all these years. “Do you have any leads about who killed them?”

  “We’re working on it,” Dimples said. “And we’ll keep you informed. We want to find out what happened and bring their killer to justice.”

  “Good,” Mr. Garrett said, thinking someone needed to pay for his little girl’s death, but he didn’t have much hope that we’d ever find him. After ten years, he was probably long gone, and it was too late for justice for Riley. That’s why he hoped the person who did this would rot in hell for eternity. It was the only consolation he had that brought him any kind of peace.

  Dimples told them he’d let them know when the remains would be released so they could have a proper burial, and we stood to leave. Mrs. Garrett gave me a quick hug, thanking me for sharing my experience, and we left.

  Inside the car, I wrapped the blanket around my legs again to get warm, and let out my breath. Dimples got in and glanced at me. “Did that really happen?” he asked. “Or did you just say that to find out what she was thinking?”

  “Mostly,” I answered, keeping my gaze on my lap. Should I tell him the truth? It might just freak him out, because it sure freaked me out. No. This was something I needed to keep to myself. At least the hearing-dead-voices part.

  “What does that mean?” he prodded. Since I wasn’t looking at him, he knew something was up. “Shelby, what is it?”

  “Nothing. It’s just… sometimes I get these feelings about the departed. You’re going to think it’s funny, but they’re kind of like premonitions.”

  He burst out laughing. “Right. You expect me to fall for that a second time?”

  “Hey, I’m being serious.”

  He caught my gaze and sobered up. “Okay. How does it work?”

  “Just like I told Mrs. Garrett. Sometimes it’s just a feeling that they’re around. It’s actually kind of creepy.”

  “I’ll bet.” Dimples struggled with taking me seriously, but then he remembered how much I hated the dead files room, and it made more sense.

  “Anyway… enough about me. I picked up that neither of the Garrets had anything to do with Riley’s death, so we can cross them off the list. That doesn’t leave us with much to go on, but maybe we’ll have better luck with the Johnsons.”

  Dimples shrugged and started the car, thinking it was a long shot. And with the way things were going, I had to agree.

  Chapter 10

  Dimples drove back to the house like we’d planned, and from there, we made our way to the address where Grant Johnson’s family had lived at the time of his disappearance. It was in the opposite direction of Riley’s house, but still only a few blocks away. “There’s something connecting these two,” he said. “And I sure wish I knew what it was.”

  “It seems that way, but after this much time, I don’t know if we can figure it out.”

  “We’ll see.” He was thinking that maybe I’d get one of my premonitions from the other side. The preposterousness of that thought had him chuckling to himself.

  “Ha, ha,” I said, wanting him to know I’d heard that.

  “Sorry, Shelby. But it is kind of funny.”

  “Yeah, just as funny as being in the dead files room and getting the shivers.”

  “Oh… yeah. I see where you’re coming from. I have felt something like that before.”

  “Good,” I said. “Now you know how it feels, only ten times worse.”

  Chastened, he focused on driving to the family’s current address, but took up singing a song in his mind so he wouldn’t get in any more trouble. It would have bothered me, but then he started singing the chorus out loud. It was the one about not speaking because of knowing just what you’re thinking.

  I burst out laughing while he finished the line, then I joined him on the next part. As we finished up, I laughed so hard that tears leaked from my eyes.

  “That’s totally your song,” Dimples said, chuckling.

  “That was awesome!” I wiped off my tears and grabbed my phone from my purse. “I think that song is on my playlist. Do you want to listen on the way?”

  “You bet!”

  I found the song and plugged my phone into his system, then turned it up. We sang along and even made it to the second chorus before pulling up to the curb in front of the Johnsons’ house. We finished the last chorus line and did a high-five before Dimples turned off the car.

  Once again, I relinquished my warm blanket and got out of the car, but this time, I didn’t get the chills. We sobered up pretty quick before Dimples rang the doorbell. Mr. Johnson answered, sending a wave of astonishment through me. With a shock of white hair, he looked like he was in his mid-sixties, but from the report, I knew he was only forty-eight.

  He let us in and offered us a seat on the couch while he sat in a reclining chair.

  “My wife’s at work, so it’s just me,” he said. “So, do you have news about my nephew?” He was hoping this day would never come, and he braced himself for the worst.

  “Your nephew? We thought he was your son,” Dimples said.

  “Oh, it’s a common mistake, but he’s actually my brother’s son. You see, my brother’s wife died after Grant was born, and my brother got mixed up in some bad things. By the time Grant came to stay with us, his father was in prison. We took him in as our own, but he was a tough kid.”

  “How long did he live with you before he ran away?” I asked.

  “Not long. About four months.” He was thinking that those were the worst months of their lives. “If he hadn’t run away, I’m sure he would have ended up in Juvie or prison by now. He could lie and steal at the drop of a hat, and I couldn’t seem to talk any sense into him.”

  But I picked up that it was lots worse than that. While he’d said ‘run away’ out loud, he was actually thinking ‘died.’ My stomach clenched as the implications of that thought set in.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but we found his body,” Dimples beg
an. “Along with that of a little girl in the neighborhood where you used to live. It looks like he was murdered. They both were.”

  Mr. Johnson took in a shuddering breath, then his face crumbled with pain. All at once, his eyes filled with tears, and soon, trembling wracked his body. He leaned over and clutched his head in his hands, while sobs poured out of him. Dimples glanced at me with surprise, thinking that this reaction was more than he’d expected, and wondered what was going on.

  I glanced at Johnson and picked up a tremendous amount of guilt and remorse pouring out of him. At that moment, I knew without a doubt that this man had killed Grant. I swallowed my revulsion as his unbidden memories swamped over me. Eager to understand what had happened, I opened my mind to his thoughts.

  He was remembering the sudden downpour that night, and the bad feeling he had in the pit of his stomach that Grant was up to no good. That kid had been more trouble than anyone had a right to be, and he hadn’t seen him after their big argument the night before. Since Grant was his responsibility, he’d thrown on a hoodie, taken a flashlight, and gone out looking for him.

  As he searched the nearby streets, he happened to see someone in the side yard of a house that was under construction. Since no one lived there, it made him suspicious. Shining the light in that direction, he spotted Grant, who tried to hide by slipping into the dirt beside the house, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  Furious, Johnson rushed to the house and dragged him out of the hole by his collar, throwing questions at him. What was he doing there? Did he steal something and hope to hide it in that hole? Thoroughly disgusted, he directed the light from his flashlight into the darkness.

  Inside, he made out something pink and frilly, then thought it looked like a doll in a pink dress. No wait. Those arms and legs were too big for a doll. Then his light fell on the open eyes of a little girl, and he gasped. She was dead.

  In dawning horror, he backed away from the hole, falling into the mud, and dragging Grant with him. He lost his grip on the flashlight, and it bounced on the ground, coming to rest in front of the hole and casting an eerie glow over the still body. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Grant said, his voice filled with desperation. “It was an accident. She started screaming and wouldn’t stop. I don’t know how it happened, but I didn’t do it on purpose. You have to believe me. Just let me finish filling up the hole. If we just throw some dirt over her, this will all go away, and no one will ever know. I promise, nothing like this will ever happen again. I’ll be good, just help me. Please. Just this once. I’ll do whatever you say from now on. I promise.”

  Desperate, Grant jerked away from Johnson’s hold and slid over to the hole where he frantically pushed the wet dirt into the darkness. Johnson sucked in a breath, remembering the alert he’d heard earlier in the day about a little girl who’d been abducted from the nearby school yard.

  “Is that the missing girl? Did you take her from the school?”

  Grant turned to look at him. In the dim light, his cold eyes held no remorse, only emptiness, hate, and disgust that he’d been caught. “Just help me, all right?”

  The sight of those heartless eyes sent fear and revulsion into Johnson’s heart. In that moment, he knew what he had to do. He had a three-year-old daughter of his own, and this monster lived in his house. Who knew what he was capable of? He’d killed that poor little girl. What else would he do?

  A large rock rested only inches from his hand. He closed his fingers around it in a tight grip and then slowly stood. While Grant hovered over the opening, Johnson swung the rock at his head.

  I jerked away from his thoughts, gasping in horror. I swallowed and caught my breath to gain control over my emotions. Johnson’s sobs had slowed, but he still held his head in his hands, while his heart broke with guilt.

  He’d never told a soul, and had lived with his guilt for ten long years. He’d kept quiet for his family, wanting to be there to raise his daughter rather than go to prison. But it had taken a toll on him and his health.

  Glancing around the room, I spotted a box of tissues and nudged his hand with them. It brought him out of his memories, and he took them from me to wipe his nose and eyes.

  “Sorry about that,” he said gruffly, thinking that maybe it was time to tell the truth. But could his wife and daughter handle it? Maybe it was better to keep it buried where it couldn’t hurt anyone but himself.

  “Detective Harris,” I said, using his professional title for Johnson’s benefit. “Could you give me a moment alone with Mr. Johnson?”

  Dimples’ eyes widened, and he wondered what I was up to, but he quickly made the decision to trust me and nodded. “I’ll be out by the car.”

  “Thanks.”

  I waited for him to leave the room before turning to Johnson. “I’m not on the police force, so I can’t arrest you or anything. Do you understand?”

  His brows drew together in apprehension. “Yeah.”

  “I think I know what happened to them. Grant killed the little girl. And when you found him there by the house, he asked for your help to cover it up. You killed him to keep your daughter and other children safe.”

  His eyes widened with shock. “How did you…”

  “I’m… uh… psychic.” If possible, his eyes widened even more. “Listen, I think it’s time for you to tell the police what happened. The little girl’s family needs to know, and you’ve suffered incredible guilt for long enough. It’s time to let it go and stop punishing yourself.

  “Given the circumstances, and the amount of time that has already passed, I doubt that you’ll have to spend a lot of time behind bars; but even if you do, I’m sure your wife and daughter won’t turn their backs on you. I think they’d understand, especially your wife. She knew what kind of boy Grant was.”

  He nodded, but was still unsure, so I continued. “Also, my husband is an excellent trial attorney, and I’m sure he’d be happy to take on your case as your public defender. That means no charge. What do you say?”

  It seemed that a huge weight lifted from his shoulders, and he glanced at me with wonder. “I think maybe you’re right. I haven’t felt this… free in a long time. But… can it wait… at least until Monday? I’d like the weekend to tell my wife first, and my daughter. They deserve to know from me. Then I’ll turn myself in with a clear conscience.”

  I nodded. “I think we can work that out. I’ll have to tell the detective something, since he’ll wonder what we’ve been up to, but I think I can convince him to trust me.”

  “I won’t let you down,” he said, a hint of moisture in his eyes.

  “It’s a deal. Let me give you my card.” I pulled one from my purse and wrote Chris’ name and the number for his law firm on the back. “Call Chris first thing Monday morning. I’ll tell him to expect your call so he can arrange everything. He’ll probably have you meet with him in his office before you go to the police, so you can have your statement ready. Then he’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  He took my card, astonished that I would do this for him. “Why are you helping me?”

  I shrugged. “What happened… and how you’ve suffered all these years. I have kids of my own. I think I understand a little.” Just last night I’d been contemplating what I’d do if someone came after my own kids. It wasn’t pretty. I nodded at him and stood. Before I could leave, he stood.

  “Thank you. I can see that I should have done this a long time ago.”

  “You’re doing it now. That’s what counts.” His eyes flooded with tears, and my own got a little misty. “See you on Monday.” I quickly left the house.

  Dimples leaned against his car with his arms folded and ankles crossed. He caught sight of me and straightened, then waited for me to join him before he asked any questions. I skirted around him and got in the car.

  Puzzled, he got in too, but didn’t make a move to start the engine. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I don’t kn
ow. I mean… yes I do want to tell you, but I don’t know what you’ll be required to do once I do. Does that make sense?”

  “Why? Did he have something to do with it?”

  “Uh… he knows something, but I promised him some time, and he’s going to tell us all about it on Monday. Will that work?”

  “Time for what?” He was thinking, to warn somebody, or leave the country, or what?

  “You’ll see. It’ll be fine. He has answers, and you’ll find out everything on Monday. That’s all I can say for now, but you should trust me on this. That’s what partners do, right?”

  He groaned and shook his head, then started the car and pulled onto the street. “So I guess we’re done with this case, then?”

  “Ha-ha. That was slyly done,” I said with a grin, since he was hoping to be sly about it. “You know what I love about being partners with you?”

  “No, what?”

  “You think that what I do is awesome. I like that.”

  “It is awesome,” he agreed. “Especially if it solved the case. Which I’m assuming it did, since you’re in such a good mood.”

  I just smiled and hit play on my phone, and we both started singing, “don’t speak,” all the way back to the precinct.

  We arrived in a happy mood, both of us relieved to have the case solved. After Dimples parked, I got out, dragging my blanket, and ready to go to lunch with Billie. “Oh wait! We never decided what I’m supposed to tell Billie about all this.”

  Dimples smiled mischievously, sending his cheeks into whirling tornados. “Guess you’ll have to tell her to wait until Monday, like you told me.”

  “She’s not going to like that.”

  “Nope,” he said, glad it was me and not him this time.

  “Can I give her the names of the kids, or is that off limits too?”

  “Now that we’ve identified the next-of-kin, it’s okay to release their names. They already ran a piece in the paper about discovering the bodies, so the names aren’t going to change a lot. The real story will happen when the case is solved and we know what happened to them.”