Kindred Spirits

by D J Monroe

  “Unless you can channel his spirit like you seem to be able to do with Tammy,” Nate said.

  There was that teasing wink again and Creed busied himself with the toast. At last Creed said, “I don’t think I’m channeling Tammy. I think she’s just wants justice for herself.”

  “Why now?”

  Creed shrugged. “How long has that camera been sitting up there in that room? How long since anyone looked in the viewfinder? Maybe she’s been trying all along and no one noticed.”

  “Have you ever experienced anything like this before?” Nate asked.

  Creed blinked at him. Of course he had. They had. Together. That day in high school when they’d managed to lead more than a dozen students to safety with the help of- Who? What? Their questions about that day had been answered but Nate didn’t believe it. Creed had no doubts.

  Nate looked away and changed the subject almost as if he remembered but didn’t want to talk about it.

  While Creed cleaned up after their breakfast, Nate called Kathy Ross Simpson. Creed listened to Nate’s side of the conversation.

  “About what time do you want us to meet you there?” Nate asked and then he glanced at his watch. “That gives us a couple of hours.”

  Nate nodded several times and said “Uh-huh.” When Creed glanced over his shoulder, he got the same thumbs up from Nate as before.

  And that grin. That sexy, confident grin.

  Twenty: Long, Lost Love

  “Alright, Kathy is going to meet us at Dairy Rite,” Nate said.

  “Here in town?” Creed asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, said she was going to have to drive through Lost Creek on her way to Florida for an art show,” Nate explained.

  In reality, Nate was surprised Kathy had agreed to meet with them at all. After all, this was going to bring up some old, maybe painful memories. He promised himself that the moment she appeared to be in distress, he would end the interview.

  “And we meet with my brother-in-law this afternoon right after lunch,” Creed said. He turned to face Nate, bracing his hands on the sink behind him. “Nate, I know you need the facts. I know you’re used to dealing in facts but I really appreciate you taking this seriously.” He nodded at the camera.

  “I can’t deny what you’re seeing. I’m seeing it, too,” Nate said, lifting one shoulder. “I appreciate you coming along with me on what might be a dead end investigation. I mean, you signed on to help me clean out a house not investigate what might be a murder.”

  “And you’re giving me a roof over my head temporarily,” Creed reminded him.

  Nate laughed. “You know, combining our skills we might just solve this thing.”

  “And put your father’s mind at ease,” Creed reminded him.

  “That, too,” Nate said, quietly. He wasn’t sure anything would put his father’s mind at ease or make him any easier to get along with but it was worth a shot.

  While Creed dressed and prepared for the day, Nate picked up the camera. The scene played again, the metallic object flying up into the air. Nate strained his ears to hear something, any sound at all coming from the scene but it was like watching a silent movie.

  He called his father, holding his breath as he received the same growl as always. “Lo.”

  “Good morning, Dad,” he said, hoping that his father would get the hint.

  “Is it morning?”

  “Yes, it is,” Nate assured him.

  “How’s the house coming along?”

  Nate took a deep breath. “I’m fine, Dad and how are you?”

  His father did not respond but Nate could imagine him staring off into the distance waiting impatiently for Nate to get to the point.

  “We’re working on the bedrooms,” Nate explained. “What should I do with all of your books?”

  “Most of them are old westerns,” his dad said, his voice growing soft, almost nostalgic.

  “Louis Lamour, Frank Roderus,” Nate reminded him. His father’s love of books had instilled that in Nate. In part, that was why Nate chose journalism as a career. If he could, one day, write a book that his father would read-

  “I don’t care.” The old soldier façade was back, words not much more than a grunt. “Are they even worth anything?”

  “I’m going to let the library decide that,” Nate said. “I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you.”

  “Whatever you decide. I just want that house cleaned out and sold.”

  “That’s the plan,” Nate said.

  “Oh, I talked to your cousin, Walter,” his dad said.

  “And?”

  “They’re threatening to contest the will. Feel like they should have an equal part of the house or proceeds from it.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I told them that as soon as it was on the market, they could buy it, free and clear if they wanted it so badly. Until then, it’s mine to do with as I see fit.”

  Nate smiled. It wasn’t hard to imagine his father relaying this information to them. Probably used the same tone of voice. “Good for you.”

  His father cleared his throat. “There is one issue.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They told me you were having big, loud parties at the house. Gay orgies. That the police had been called several times.”

  Nate put his hand over his mouth to stifle his laugh. “No, Dad, it’s just me and Creed here working. No police. No parties and definitely no orgies.”

  Creed returned to the kitchen apparently hearing that last word. He stopped and looked surprised.

  “That’s what I thought. Carry on, son.” The call ended abruptly and Nate shook his head, tapping the screen.

  “Orgies?” Creed asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes. According to Walter and Cherry, we’re hosting loud parties and having gay orgies. Supposedly, the police have been here several times.”

  By the time Nate finished, both of them were laughing.

  “Police, parties and orgies. Oh, my,” Creed quipped and that made them laugh even harder.

  Finally, they calmed down, both of them with tears in their eyes.

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Creed said.

  “Agreed,” Nate said. “Let’s go meet Tammy’s best friend.”

  “How do you feel about giving her some of these pictures of the two of them together?” Creed asked, hesitating at the table where they were scattered.

  “Good idea,” Nate said, impressed by Creed’s thoughtfulness. “She may have some of the same pictures but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the thought.”

  Standing shoulder to shoulder beside the table, the two spent over half an hour sorting out some of the better photos, especially of the two girls together. More than once they reached for the same picture at the same time and their fingers touched. Each time ripples of excitement shimmied up Nate’s arm, nearly taking his breath away. When that happened, he took a small step away from Creed. But within minutes he found that he’d moved close again without even thinking about it. He longed to take Creed back to bed and make love to him all afternoon.

  But first, they had a job to do.

  Mid-morning at the Dairy Rite was nearly empty. There were a couple of old men at the counter sipping coffee. A lone woman sat in one of the red leather booths near the back wall, a book open on the table in front of her.

  Nate recognized Kathy right away. She hadn’t changed much since the pictures were taken by her best friend in nineteen seventy-three. Still had the same short, pixie hair style, lighter in color now. A cup sat on the table in front of her and she was busy folding and refolding a napkin into squares.

  Nate tapped Creed on the shoulder and nodded in her direction.

  “That’s her,” Creed whispered.

  Kathy smiled and stood when she saw them heading toward her.

  “Mrs. Simpson?” Nate asked, extending his hand.

  “Please, call me Kathy,” she said, taking his hand. Her grip
was strong, putting Nate at ease right away. “And you must be Nate.” Her smile was tentative. “The family resemblance is strong.”

  She was tall and willowy, much taller than Nate imagined her to be. The only thing that gave her age away was the lines around her eyes and mouth. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said.

  She turned her attention to Creed, her eyes bright and inquisitive.

  “This is my friend, Creed Autry,” Nate said, making the introduction.

  “Nice to meet you,” Creed said, shaking hands with her.

  They waited until she returned to her seat and then slid into the booth across the table from her.

  “So, you’re cleaning out your grandfather’s house,” Kathy prompted, taking a sip from the thick, white mug in front of her.

  “We are. Getting it ready to sell,” Nate explained.

  “Time moves on,” she said, picking up the napkin and refolding it into smaller and smaller squares. “Your Aunt Tammy and I were best friends. I spent a lot of time in that house.”

  “We’re staying there now. You’re welcome to come by and visit any time until it’s sold,” Nate said.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking away briefly.

  “We found some photos and thought you might like to have them,” Creed said, sliding the pictures they’d collected across the table toward her.

  She didn’t touch them right away but simply gazed down at the one on top. It was a photo of her and Tammy, cheeks together, blowing kisses into the camera. Finally, she smiled a sad little smile and placed her fingertips on the picture.

  Nate saw tears gathering in her eyes.

  “How she loved taking pictures,” Kathy began. “Took pictures of everything and everyone. She was just learning how to develop them herself when-” Her statement ended with a soft sob.

  A waitress appeared at their table and directed her question at Nate and Creed. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Coffee for me,” Nate said, almost thankful for the interruption, hoping it would give Kathy time to compose herself.

  “Coffee,” Creed said.

  The waitress left.

  “We had such big plans,” Kathy told them. “We were going to open an art gallery together in New York city. We were going to be famous. Her for photography, me for my paintings.”

  “You’re an artist?” Creed asked, quickly changing the subject.

  “Yes, my husband and I own a gallery over in Palmetto. We do pretty well-during the summer months anyway.”

  Nate kept quiet, not wanting to speak until Kathy composed herself. Finally, he said, as softly as he could, “You must have been devastated when she disappeared.”

  Kathy nodded. Keeping her eyes on the table, she unfolded the napkin, ran her finger along the creases and began refolding it. “I was,” she said at last. “We all were. Things like that happened on TV. Not here in Lost Creek,” she said. “The fact that we never found out what happened to her made it even worse. I don’t think her parents ever got over it.”

  “They didn’t. Neither has my dad,” Nate said. “He feels like he failed her.”

  Kathy shook her head. “We all felt that way. Survivor’s guilt.” And then she shrugged. “I don’t think there was anything he could have done.”

  “I’d like to convince him of that but-”

  “Old men,” Kate said with a harsh little laugh.

  “Do you think it was random?” Creed asked.

  Before Kathy could respond, the waitress arrived at the table with their coffee and more tea for her.

  Kathy hesitated, waiting until she was gone and then shook her head again. “No. I think it was someone she knew, someone she tried to keep out of the house that night. The only sign of a disturbance was the little latch missing from the screen door.”

  Nate nodded. That’s what they’d seen that morning through the eye of the camera.

  “And the shoe on the stairs and her broken glasses,” Creed reminded them.

  “Do you have any thoughts on who might have harmed her?” Nate asked, thinking back to his own high school days. There were cliques and special groups that he was never a part of. “I mean was there any trouble at school or with any particular group of students.”

  Kathy shook her head. “Everyone loved Tammy. She was bright and sunny and she had a special-a way of making everyone feel important. Like they were the only person in the room.”

  They were quiet for a few minutes. Nate added cream to his coffee while he tried to compose his next question.

  Instead, Kathy spoke again. “Everyone close to her had an alibi from what I heard. They looked at Crazy Kenny pretty closely but that turned out to be a dead end.”

  “How was her relationship with her boyfriend?” Nate asked. “I mean, did he treat her well.”

  Kathy didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to the door as if she was expecting someone to enter. The lines tightened around her mouth. Nate thought that maybe she was hoping someone would come and rescue her from their questions. Then she squared her shoulders, kept her eyes on the door and said, “She had broken up with him the day before.”

  Both men kept quiet. Kathy squeezed the folded napkin hard and then released it, letting it unfold on its own. All three of them watched it carefully.

  He and Creed hadn’t talked about exactly how they were going to bring up the letter but when she didn’t respond, Nate made the decision on his own. Keeping his voice low and gentle, he said, “Kathy, we found a letter that you wrote to Tammy”

  Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide and there was that little sob again.

  “It’s okay,” Creed said with a smile. “Really,” he turned that smile on Nate. “We understand completely.”

  Kathy looked from one of them to the other and finally smiled, realization setting in. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a little sigh. “I’m surprised someone else hadn’t found it by now and destroyed it.”

  “It was very well hidden,” Nate assured her. “I don’t think anyone else ever read it.”

  “After all these years,” Kathy said, almost to herself.

  “She was protecting you, I think,” Creed said.

  After a few moments, Katy began talking. “I was so afraid to tell her how I felt. I wanted to tell her in person but I let my fear get the best of me. She was my best friend and if I lost that-,” Kathy began. “So I wrote the letter and gave it to her on the last day of school that year.”

  “How did she react?”

  “At first, I don’t think she knew what to think or do about it. I mean, neither of us understood exactly what this meant. Such a confusing time. A confusing way to feel,” she paused. “The next time I saw her, she didn’t act like she’d even read the letter and I was too afraid to bring it up. And then one day, about a week later, we were up in her room, playing records or something and she kissed me.” Kathy closed her eyes as if reliving that moment. Her hands stilled on the table in front of her.

  Nate’s thoughts flew back to the thrill, the awkwardness of his own first kiss and he wondered if Creed was thinking about Shane. A little stab of jealousy shot through his heart. Now, why should he be jealous about that? Both of them had had other lovers. And the one kiss they’d shared didn’t tie them to one another.

  “Of course, neither of us knew what we were doing,” Kathy continued. We just knew that we loved each other and wanted to be together. She confessed that Butch had been really pushing her to have sex with him and she wasn’t interested.”

  “She was interested with you, though?” Nate asked.

  Kathy nodded. “We spent the next few weeks sneaking off to be together every chance we got. We experimented with-with loving each other, learning what felt good and what did not.” Another sob. “Those few short weeks were the happiest of my life, I believe.”

  “So you were going to be more than business partners in this art gallery,” Creed said with a smile.

  “Yes, that’s why we were goi
ng to move to New York, where we could live together openly. Or at least that’s what we thought it would be like,” she ended with a shrug.

  The waitress appeared, refilled their cups and left again.

  “You married?” Nate asked, curious about Kathy’s current life.

  “It didn’t matter much to me what happened after Tammy disappeared. I had a brief affair with an older woman in college, a professor, but nothing ever came of it.” Kathy paused and took a little shaking breath. “Terry and I have a good marriage. It’s taken years but I’ve grown to love him.”

  Nate sipped his coffee, watching her refold the napkin again. It was starting to grow ragged and thin.

  “Tammy is the only one I’ve ever truly loved and I’m so glad I told her.” Another shaky breath. “I think of her every day.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nate said. “To have found the one you love and have her taken from you like that-”

  Kathy nodded, tears in her eyes. “All I can say is that if you love someone, tell them.” She looked from Creed to Nate and back again and Nate knew she thought they were lovers. “You never know when someone will be taken from you.”

  “Wise words,” Creed said.

  “Kathy, we really appreciate you talking to us,” Nate said, squeezing one of her hands gently. It was cold as ice. “I hope this didn’t upset you too badly.”

  She laughed softly and dabbed her eyes with a corner of the napkin. “No. Thinking about her always makes me smile. She was so pretty, sweet and kind to everyone. I wonder what kind of life we would have had together. How my life might be different.”

  “We’re going to look into her disappearance,” Nate told her. “See what we can find out.”

  “Please, stay in touch. If I can answer any questions, I will. And if you find out, I’d love to know who took my Tammy away from me.”

  Twenty-One: Digging In

  “That went better than I imagined,” Creed said. They were back in the car, headed to the police station. He watched the familiar shops and stores sliding past the window as they entered downtown proper.

  “Yeah, I was afraid it was going to go off the rails for a moment there,” Nate said.