A Guilty Ghost Surprised (An Indigo Eady Paranormal Cozy Mystery series)

by Gwen Gardner

  I followed.

  Wandering through the crowd, Cappy spotted an older kid he knew and headed over to him. He introduced us. The guy’s name was Daniel, a regular at local parties, about nineteen years old, and slightly wobbly on his feet.

  Cappy struck up a conversation and wove a few lies about having been at a party last weekend that got busted by the cops.

  “Yeah,” said Daniel. “The cops are making it harder to have a party these days because of underage drinkers.”

  Cappy grinned and tilted the beer bottle to his lips.

  “I remember what it was like,” said Daniel. “O’ course I’m legal now. Actually, this house got busted a few years back for underage drinking. I hoofed it over the fence—” he pointed behind us “—and got away. At least one person got arrested, though.”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Cappy. “That’d be Jason.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “A lot of drunk drivers that night, I suppose,” I said.

  “Not really,” said Daniel. “A fight broke out and the cops came, so it ended early. But Jason was already drunk when he got here, I remember that.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I ‘eard. But what about that other kid? The one in the blue Sedan? What was his name? I ‘eard ‘e got arrested.”

  So Daniel wasn’t the highest card in the deck. Through his inebriation, he didn’t realize that Cappy wouldn’t have been at the party three years ago. He would only have been eleven.

  “Tyrone Wahlberg? It’s a blue Chevy. Nah, he didn’t get arrested.”

  Another guy called over to Daniel, wanting him to settle an argument.

  “Catcha later,” said Daniel.

  Cappy and I shared a look. I pulled a pen out of my pocket and wrote Tyrone Wahlberg, blue Chevy on my palm.

  We used the same ploy on several other people, and got one more hit on the name Tyrone, but nothing additional. We wandered back inside, targeting some of the older kids, to no avail. I spied Jason Krepp across the room and whispered in Cappy’s ear that we should go speak to him. I led the way.

  “Hello,” I said. “Remember me? Simon’s cousin.” I kept my hands in my pockets. The way his fingers kept picking at his face creeped me out, and I didn’t want to shake his hand. And I certainly didn’t want to experience his drug use through psychometry.

  “Yeah, I remember you. At least we know where the looks in the family come from.” He tried to wink, but with his mouth hanging open, I wasn’t flattered. He was already drunk.

  “So yeah,” I said. “I guess this is the house that got busted a few years ago, huh?”

  He looked around. “Now that you mention it, yesh.” He pulled a fat joint from his top pocket and lit it, sucking the smoke in deeply, holding it, then blowing it out. “Want a hit?” He held it out to me.

  I smiled a little sickly and shook my head. “Uh, no. Thank you, I’ve had enough.” And by enough, I meant enough of being near Jason. I’m very sensitive to hallucinogenics, alcohol, or any other type of drugs due to Psychometry. Even being near him smoking marijuana made me wobbly.

  “Hey, why don’t you and me go have a little drink together.” He linked his arm through mine and began to lead me into another room. “Your little friend here won’t mind, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sure I do mind,” said Cappy, taking my other arm.

  Jason insistently tugged back. “Get lost, you little runt.” His face turned mean, and I remembered that he’d been the one to get in a fight that night three years ago.

  “I think we should be going,” I said to Jason, trying to tug my arm out of his grasp. Stronger than he looked, his fingers dug into my arm.

  “How’s about a snog first.” His puckered lips came dangerously close to mine. His hot breath against my face nearly made me gag.

  I cringed. “No!” I yelled, pushing against him, to no avail.

  A fist shot through the air, whizzing by my face and into Jason’s nose. He stumbled back into a group of people. A scream rent the air, joined by screaming and confusion. Blood spurted in every direction, including on me.

  At the same time, someone yelled, “Cops!”

  Kids scattered in every direction like an ant colony that just got stomped on.

  Dizziness overcame me. I’m sure I’ve mentioned once or twice that I don’t do blood. And now the chaos and the warmth of the room added to my faintness.

  Cappy threw another fist into Jason’s stomach and Jason bent double.

  Cappy grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the front door. One glimpse of blue uniform and he yanked me the other way. We joined the swarm pushing out the back door. A quick glance over my shoulder and I thought I spied D.S. Robbie O’Boyle. Our gazes locked before I turned around and pushed through the crowd of people. Grabbing my hand so we didn’t get separated, we ran to the back fence. By now, policemen covered the back door, grabbing kids by their shirts and lining them against a wall.

  Cappy flung himself at the fence and easily pulled himself over. But with my heels and tight pants, I didn’t fare so well. I got stuck halfway up. My feet scrambled for purchase. Cappy clutched the back of my coat, nearly pulling it over my head. A shout and a tug on my boot from the opposite side made me grasp the fence tightly. I kicked out blindly. An oof from behind told me I connected.

  “Pull!” I yelled to Cappy.

  Hands grabbed me from behind. I renewed my struggle and kicked wildly, loosening the grip on my waist.

  “I’m trying! Yer’ not as light as you look,” Cappy grunted.

  One last tug from Cappy on both of my arms with his full weight behind it, combined with my back-kicks, and I slumped to the ground on the other side. A head poked over the fence to look down at us. Cappy tugged me up and we took off running through the vacant lot.

  Glancing back briefly before climbing another fence, I saw that the police hadn’t pursued us. But a tingling at the back of my skull told me trouble still lingered. The danger now came from ahead of us instead of behind.

  I looked to the left where a stand of trees stood. “This way!” I ran and Cappy followed. I lunged for the lowest branch on the nearest tree and swung my leg up and over. Cappy did the same, and this time, I pulled him up. We climbed higher before choosing a limb to sit on and catch our breath.

  Voices came from the area near the second fence. It had been a trap. The cops went around the block to catch the runners as they came over the fence.

  But not us.

  I grinned at Cappy.

  He grinned back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Party Discussed

  Slinking quietly through the back door of the Blind Badger, Cappy and I slipped into the snug unnoticed.

  “Finally,” said Simon. “We were getting worried.”

  Badger’s face mirrored Simon’s. “What took so long? We were about to come looking for you.” His eyes widened once he got a good look at us. “And why are the two of you covered in blood and looking like you crossed no-man’s land and barely survived?”

  Blood? I looked down at my shirt and quickly back up. I knew some blood splattered me, of course. It spurted from Jason’s nose, right in front of me. Like a ketchup bottle after it’s been knocked against a table a few times and then exploded from pressure. I hadn’t known so much landed on me. My own blood was bad enough, but someone else’s? My stomach churned.

  No wonder we got odd looks on the bus. Dirt and blood covered me. After trying to get over the fence and then running across a dirt field, not to mention climbing a tree. Cappy looked worse than I did, having been closer to the situation than me.

  We looked like we’d been in a brawl—with each other.

  By unspoken agreement, we didn’t discuss anything about the party on the bus. Not convinced we had actually gotten away, I worried the cops might meet us at the next bus stop and drag us down to the station with the other kids. We didn’t want anyone to overhear us.

  I knew Robbie saw me. Our eyes had met and locked.

  I wob
bled on my feet, a result of the whole practically-bathing-in-blood thing.

  “Sit down, Indigo.” Badger took my arm and helped me to a chair. “Get your head down before you faint.”

  Badger turned on Cappy accusingly. “What happened? You were supposed to take care of her and instead you bring her back all beat up?”

  Cappy’s eyes widened briefly before he replied. “That’s right. She got a bit lippy, didn’t she? So I punched her, right in the schnozzle. Pow!”

  “Cappy,” I warned, lifting my head from between my knees, “maybe this isn’t the time to joke around.”

  “Are you going to be sick?” Simon asked.

  “No.” Yes. Maybe. The metallic blood odor wafted from my shirt. Having my head down so I wouldn’t faint may not have actually helped.

  “Hand me that rubbish bin, Badger.” Simon thrust it into my hands. “Here.”

  The dirty bin didn’t help matters much, either. Not when dealing with a stomach already asking for a reason to evict the contents residing there.

  Badger’s and Simon’s thunderous faces glared at Cappy. They hadn’t wanted us to go alone, they wanted to accompany us. But they had straight arrow reputations, dudes who didn’t party, so they stayed behind. Cappy didn’t want their reputations to blow our party cover.

  “That bozo tried one on ‘er, didn’t ‘e?” said Cappy. “That Jason bloke - ‘e wouldn’t let ‘er go when she asked ‘im, so I let ‘im ‘ave it. ‘Bout that time, the cops showed up and we went out the back.”

  “That bloody bastard.” Badger’s hands curled into fists.

  “We ought to go kick his arse right now,” added Simon, jumping up from the table.

  “No! You’ll only get yourselves in trouble,” I said. “Besides, Cappy took care of it - him, I mean.”

  Cappy nodded. “That’s right. I took care of ‘er, like I said I would.”

  I looked at my clothing. “This isn’t our blood, it’s Jason’s. I’m pretty sure he has a broken nose.” And I’m certain he lost at least a gallon of blood,” I added for good measure.

  Badger and Simon shared a look, and I knew it wasn’t over for Jason. These dudes wrote the definition of overprotective in the new abridged Caveman Dictionary. But they let it go for now.

  “Did you find out anything?” asked Simon, pulling the murder map from behind the bench.

  “Yeah. Another kid, named…” Cappy looked over to me to supply the name.

  “Oh.” I looked at the pen marks on my palm, barely visible after scraping my hands on fences and trees. I squinted my eyes and turned my hand in different directions. “Looks like…Tyrone Wah...”

  “Wahlberg,” Cappy supplied. “Tyrone Wahlberg. ‘e was at the party that night. Owns a blue Chevy. That’s about it, though. ‘e wasn’t there tonight.”

  “That’s brilliant,” said Simon. “One more possible suspect. Well done, you two. Especially you, Cappy. Thanks for taking care of my cousin.”

  Cappy shrugged. “Part of the job, no big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” said Badger, insistently. “It’s not the first time you rescued her. We take care of our own. Good job.”

  Our own. Yep, that’s what he said. That meant I belonged. I’d dissect that whole our thing later. It almost made the whole blood thing worth it. Almost.

  Cappy wore a pleased look. I think our own meant as much to him as it did me.

  “What do you know about this Tyrone kid?” Simon asked.

  “Nothing, but I’ll find out. Leave it to me,” said Cappy.

  “Leave what to you, Cappy?” said a voice from the door we hadn’t thought to close.

  We all froze, eyes wide as bar mats.

  A feeling of deja vu came over me. The same thing happened on the last case, when we investigated Bart’s murder. In the snug, discussing the evidence, in walks D.S. Robbie O’Boyle.

  Crap. Not good. Not good at all.

  “Um, I forget,” said Cappy.

  “Uh huh,” said Robbie, looking around the circle at our guilty faces. “What’s up gang?”

  Nobody spoke up, so I took the plunge. “W-we, uh, w-were just…talking.” I shrugged.

  “So you wouldn’t know anything about a party tonight over on the south side of town?” said Robbie.

  I couldn’t bring myself to utter the lie, so I shrugged again.

  “Or why, for instance, at least two of you are covered in blood? Not to mention your black hair and blue eyes are quite unmistakable, Indigo Eady.”

  What did he mean by that?

  I sighed. “Oh, all right. Come in, Robbie.”

  Badger looked at me with raised eyebrows.

  “He saw me at the party,” I said.

  Robbie, out of uniform, now in jeans and tee-shirt, took a seat next to Cappy.

  “Look, I don’t know what you lot are up to now, but obviously I’m concerned when two of my young friends are seen at a party like that.”

  “Coffee?” I asked him.

  “Please.”

  Nobody spoke while I got up and poured his coffee. I set a mug in front of Robbie and sat back down next to Badger.

  I wrapped my hands around my mug for warmth. “Okay, we were there. Me and Cappy. We heard about the party and wanted to dig for more information about the party at that same house three years ago. The night Aunt Amanda - Simon’s mom - and Bryan died.”

  Robbie sat and sipped his coffee, obviously putting the pieces together. “You lot are investigating their deaths, then.”

  I looked at the others, not wanting to give up the ghost without their approval - Simon’s approval.

  “Yes,” said Simon. “Yes, we are.”

  “We’re doing nothing wrong,” Badger added.

  “As a matter of fact,” said Cappy, glancing around the table before making his suggestion to see if we all concurred, “there is something you could do to ‘elp.”

  “I thought so,” said Robbie.

  “I didn’t want to ask,” I rushed in to say. “It’s about your coworker, the one you told me about.” I pleaded with my eyes for him to understand. “Well, you’d have to, uh, investigate, within the police department.”

  “You mean spy, don’t you?”

  I studied my hands, then looked up. “Are you satisfied that your superiors conducted a thorough investigation into Michael Potter’s actions that night?”

  Now it was Robbie’s turn to study his hands. “I shouldn’t be here discussing this. It’s almost treasonous.”

  “Is that a yes or no?” Badger asked.

  He muttered almost unintelligible epithets under his breath. Almost. That’s when I knew we had him.

  “No. No I’m not.”

  Everyone relaxed, as if we held a collective breath.

  “All right, then,” said Cappy. “Now we ‘ave our inside man.”

  “I’m not making any promises,” said Robbie. “I work with these people. I respect them. Most of them, anyway. There are some that will have closed ranks. I could be jeopardizing my career if the wrong people find out what I’m doing. And for the record, Cappy, I am not your inside man. I’m my own man, and I’m taking the risk on my own. Is that clear?”

  Nods all around.

  “Thank you, Robbie.” I put my hand briefly over his. He stiffened. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to…”

  “No, it’s all right…”

  Could Robbie be afraid of me? Afraid that I could read his mind and eavesdrop on his thoughts? Did Badger and the rest of my friends worry about the same thing?

  I glanced over at Badger. He stared angrily at Robbie, then down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with me. Could he be mad at me? Or Robbie? Tears pricked my eyes. It served as a reminder to me that I was not normal, even in my friend’s eyes. I studied the lines on my palms, wondering if the scars could be removed. But what good would it do, unless the curse went with them?

  Simon broke the silence, reaching back for the murder map and rolling it out onto the table. “All of our sources ar
e confidential, you understand?”

  “Yes, of course,” Robbie answered.

  “Right, then,” said Simon, tapping the area on the board with Michael Potter’s information. “It appears Potter has something of a bad driving record. Three or four accidents while on the job. What we don’t understand is how he can still be on the job?”

  Robbie pulled the map closer to study it. He shook his head. “Where did you…? Never mind.” He looked back down at the board. “You’re right, though. We’re only allowed two strikes on our driving records before some serious suspension time occurs. Right, then. I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, please stay out of trouble.” He looked at me intently. “Especially you.”

  He rose from his chair and headed to the door, then turned around. “By the way. You never said what happened.” He pointed to the blood on my shirt.

  My cheeks burned. “Cappy was defending my virtue.”

  “Oh. Good job, Cappy.”

  Robbie nodded a hello-goodbye at Riley, who came through the door as he left.

  “Sorry I’m late.” She came in and laid her purse on the bench, then poured hot water for tea. “What’s he doing here?” She nodded her head toward Robbie’s retreating back. Then she turned to me. “And what in bloody hell happened to you?!”

  “Uh, long story,” I said.

  Riley took a seat next to Simon on the bench. We explained about the party and the fight, the possible new suspect named Tyrone, then Robbie showing up and agreeing to help us.

  “So, as far as you could find out, only one kid from the party drove a blue car?” said Riley. She recorded the information on the murder map.

  The fire burned low, the aroma of coffee filled the air and rain drizzled down the window. All my favorite investigators were tucked cozily in the snug. Simon and Riley didn’t act awkward. Badger’s moodiness had gone. And Cappy was his usual cheerful self.

  “Correct,” I answered. “A blue Chevy.”

  Riley looked up from the board. “Do we know where to find him?”

  “I was ‘oping Badger or Simon might know of ‘im. ‘e’s about their age, about eighteen.”

  They both shook their heads. “Never heard of him,” said Simon.