Perfect Paige

by Ines Saint

  “Do we have to ignore Mr. Hooke?” Tyler asked.

  “You don’t have to ignore him, but remember that even though he’s not a bad man, he’s only here to do his job, and if he finishes his job on time, it will help your dad a lot. That’s what we all want, so let’s not interrupt him.”

  Later, when Paige was back from taking the kids to school, she saw Alex sitting on the stairs, waiting. He’d finally decided to swap the suit and tie for jeans and a Bengals football jersey. Probably because it was so darn hot outside. The jersey reminded her how he’d said only football made him emotional. She now knew that wasn’t true. Would he understand how heartsick she felt right now, knowing there was no easy to way to reconcile her kids to the messy situation they were all living through?

  * * *

  Paige looked preoccupied as she walked up the steps. His proximity to her and the kids was making his job harder. He had to pick her brain, they both knew it, and yet it would still be difficult. The kids thought he was a bad guy. That hadn’t been easy to hear. Obviously, explaining the situation must’ve been that much harder for their mom.

  “All right.” She sighed. “A deal’s a deal.” She sat next to him and without prelude, launched into everything that had happened the day before, after she’d left the café. She explained remembering the conversation Glenn and Riley had had about the ghost tour, that Glenn had been interested, and how Riley had told him about the notebook and where it was. “I thought he might have decided to hide the journal in one of the haunted houses on the tour because Riley told him quite a few of them were abandoned, he knew you were all closing in, and he needed the journal in a safe, inconspicuous place, but as far away from him as possible.” She shrugged. “I know it’s far-fetched, but like I’ve told you all before, he’d been on the phone, arguing, and then pacing and looking anxious all morning, and then he’d insisted on coming with us to Grandma Sherry’s house, and then he stayed on his phone and paced in the kitchen the entire time we were there. We even left early because of him.”

  She then went on to tell him about checking the drawer under the cash register and Sherry’s desk and not finding the notebook, her conversation with her old housekeeper that led her to her house, and then about how the notebook had been on Sherry’s nightstand the entire time.

  It was obvious Paige felt silly about it. But Alex listened intently, and when she was done, he was silent for a long time. Could it be . . . ?

  “Hey,” he said, getting up. She looked so beaten down. “It’s your turn to get some sleep now. I have to work.”

  She looked up at him and scrunched her nose. It was cute. “Was it a silly theory?”

  “I don’t think so. But I have to check a few things out.”

  The scrunch turned into a glare. “And you’re not going to share your thoughts?”

  It took only a moment to realize he needed to tell her. She could answer some questions right away, and it would be best if she got the notebook for him from Sherry’s house.

  “Wait here.” He went inside, grabbed an orange highlighter, a pencil, and a map from the desk. When he came back out, he laid the map on the floor between them. “This was Glenn’s route that day, as far as I’ve been able to piece together.” He marked it with the highlighter. “There are the blanks I haven’t been able to fill in, but these are the possible routes he took.” He wrote A, B, and C, and penciled in lines to show possible routes to those points. “It took him a little over an hour, and it made little sense that he would risk being here that long and walk so much. The only reason I could think of was that something he’d planned didn’t pan out, and he was forced to improvise. He might have gone into the café to look for the notebook, but when he didn’t find it, he had to form a new plan.”

  “And he’s only good at improvising when he needs to charm his way out of something. Actual problem-solving isn’t one of his strong suits, especially when he’s nervous.”

  Alex nodded. “Do any of these routes match Sherry’s ghost tour?”

  She looked pained. “The tour is long and I haven’t been on it myself since I was little. I think this route here would hit a lot of the spots the ghost tour hits, but I’m not sure.”

  “Do you know whether the house on Lion’s Lane that Dan Amador’s working on is part of the tour?”

  Her eyes cleared. “It is. It’s where Clyde Cupcake lived.”

  “One of Dan’s crew members saw Glenn standing just outside it.”

  “But how would Glenn know the route if he didn’t have the notebook?”

  “Your grandmother told you yesterday that she was planning to add things to the tour using an old ghost book she keeps at the café. I’ve searched the place twice, from top to bottom. There was no book on ghosts there, Paige. And he wasn’t hiding anything in his jacket when he made his way back to the café. He could’ve hidden both the journal and the book in the same spot.”

  Paige lit up. “Did you see a book titled A History of Dayton there?”

  “Yes. It was in the kitchen, next to the recipe books.”

  “Ghosts of Dayton and A History of Dayton. Other than recipe books, those are the two books they always keep at the café for when people wanted to learn fun or important local history. But both are old, and nobody ever asks for them anymore because they smell musty.”

  “Have you ever read it?”

  Paige shook her head. “It really smells. It’s impossible. But I know the chapter on Spinning Hills is lengthy and detailed. I doubt even Grandma Sherry would remember it all.”

  Alex rolled the map and got back up. “We still could be wrong. I hate to ask you, because you’re the one who needs to rest right now, but I’d appreciate it if you could recover the notebook from Sherry’s house so I can read it and check it against the map. I’m going to call Boyd and Hess to see if they saw the book there yesterday, in case she misplaced it, and if they didn’t, I’m going to have a few people at the office start calling libraries to see if we can find another copy of the book. For now, I think it’s for the best if we don’t tell your grandmother our theory until after I’ve checked the notebook out.” He smiled. “I’m afraid she and her cohorts will get too excited, start looking themselves, and alert half the town in the process.”

  She smiled, too. “I’ll borrow the notebook—discreetly. What’s the plan if it checks out?”

  “I’ll talk to Sherry to see if she has any insight on our theory and to have her tell me everything she remembers from the old ghost book. Then I’ll plan a search route based on everything we know.”

  “But we’re going to talk to Grandma and look at the book together. I’m not going to rest—not when we could be so close to finding the journal and ending this whole crazy arrangement.”

  He couldn’t look at her. “I heard what Riley said. I’m sorry.”

  He felt her eyes on him. “Are you?”

  “Yes, but not enough to have you help out. I’ll work better and faster alone.”

  “But if I help, something might jog another memory along the way. Like something Glenn could have said or a question he could have asked that didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

  “Let’s take it one step at a time. First, we need the notebook.”

  Chapter 12

  Less than an hour later, they were pretty much convinced they were on the right track. It was a jackpot moment, and it was always nice to have someone to share those with.

  “How can you be sure he hasn’t already come back or sent someone to get it?”

  “We can’t be sure, but we’re reasonably certain. We’re tracking a whole lot of people, and we have eyes on Glenn, his parents, and Jasmine.” He hated mentioning her name to Paige, but those were the cold facts. She took it in stride, though he saw her jaw clench. “Paige, I know this is a lot to ask, but can you also probe Riley a bit, see if she had any new conversations with Glenn about the ghost tour? He might have let something slip with her if they shared this interest.”

  S
he stifled a sigh. “It will be difficult. But I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  They both looked down at the map again. Only problem was, there were nineteen haunted houses and eight other haunted places in Spinning Hills, and he was only one agent. He’d try, but he knew there was little chance McGee would extend him anything other than the technical support he’d pledged. And he only had one more week. He rolled it up.

  “I can help you search,” Paige offered, as if she was reading his thoughts. “My kids have more at stake in this than you ever will.”

  “You’ve got your new job. You don’t have time.” He got up and started down the stairs. She followed him. They’d decided to take his car to the café to talk to Sherry again together.

  “I do this week. I don’t start until Wednesday, so I’ll be free today and tomorrow. I mean, I have errands to run, but this is my priority. Wednesday I’ll have the day shift, to fill out new-hire paperwork and go through orientation, and then I have to pick up the kids, but Thursday and Friday I’ll be on the evening shift, which cuts my day in two and won’t leave time for much. Next Monday and Tuesday, though, I’ll have the night shift, and I’ll be able to help for a while after I drop the kids off at school.”

  Evening shifts and night shifts. Damn. She couldn’t be happy about that. “You’ll be rotating shifts?”

  She shook her head and got into the passenger side of his car. “No. Rotating is part of orientation and training, but I’ll be on the day shift, permanently, by next Wednesday.” She smiled. “I’ll be able to pick the kids up from school every single day and devote myself to them then. I won’t be with them in the mornings anymore, which hurts, I’ll admit, but Grandma Sherry is excited and happy to take over the morning routine. And I’m taking a page from Hilda and Helga. It is what it is. And I know I’m going to love my new job, and the kids will get to grow up spending their mornings with their great-grandmother, who is pretty cool, so what it is . . . is pretty good.”

  The corner of his lip went up. “You sound like you’ve made peace.”

  “I’m close. But it all feels so strange at times, surreal even. Everything sped up after the raid. Glenn asked for the divorce, some people in town rescinded invitations and a few even shunned us, and I knew it would be best to leave. But once I moved in here, everything slowed down. Nothing happened, and I had this very real expectation that things only needed to be cleared up so that everything could go back to the way it was. That it would require some work, but I was willing to do that. And then you showed up again, and the truth could no longer be denied . . . It’s like my head spun around a few times, and life not only sped back up again, but it accelerated. Right now, with this”—she pointed to the map—“it feels like life’s about to go into overdrive, and that it needs to so things can slow down again, and the kids and I can settle into this new life I’ve been scrambling to put together.”

  He wanted to tell her she’d done a great job with the scrambling, but he’d already complimented her once, and it had caused discomfort in both of them.

  “Is that what cases feel like to you? Like they’re either slow, speeding up, stalling, accelerating, or in overdrive?” she asked. “It sounds stressful.”

  It was the second time she’d expressed interest in his job, and how he felt about it. There was a part of him that wanted to share it with her, but another part of him that blocked the impulse. “I can tell you that yesterday was damn near eternal.” And he was frustrated as hell that he didn’t insist on questioning her before she’d toured the house on Paper Trail. They could’ve come to conclusions sooner, and he would never have been knocked out. He didn’t want her to feel bad about it, though, because she didn’t know how investigations worked. That was on him.

  “But it feels like it’s going to move forward again, albeit too slowly for me. I have to talk to Sherry, find out who those houses belong to, get permission to search them, if possible, while questioning people to see if any new leads can be established, just in case.”

  “What house will you search first?” she asked.

  “Mad Maddie’s. And then the judge’s house. They’re the closest haunted and abandoned houses from the last place he was seen. Hopefully, we’ll find what we’re looking for. If not, we’ll continue to work backward, ruling out houses that have been renovated or were being worked on. Boyd and Hess will come down when they can, and I’ll try to enlist the Amadors. They’re trusted around town and can help me secure permission to search. They also seem trustworthy and they know the ins and outs of these houses. We can also visit the haunted places along the way, like the cemetery plots and areas of the reserve, to look for clues that could tell us whether a patch of dirt has been recently dug up.”

  They arrived at the café. She got out of the car, while he stayed a moment, thinking about the number of times he’d just said “we.” Was that smart? To treat Paige almost like a partner? That was a strategy he’d have to run by Boyd. His thinking there was murky. It wasn’t something he was used to, and it wasn’t something he had time to really delve into and figure out.

  “Alex? Hello? It’s time to be done with the thinking and get this show on the road.”

  He looked at her, not knowing if he was amused or offended. She smiled.

  God, she was pretty. The murkiness got even more mucked up. He got out of the car, went into the café, and led Sherry to a table.

  * * *

  “He stole my book from the café, and used it for his dirty business?” Grandma Sherry was livid.

  “I’m sorry, Grandma.” Paige patted her hand.

  “I can’t believe we didn’t notice it was missing. I’m so mad at myself!”

  A minute later, she became even angrier. “You stole my ghost tour notebook from under my nose?” She turned to Paige and spoke in measured tones meant to convey how thoroughly disappointed and offended she felt. “You said you needed white pepper for a recipe. And I believed you!”

  “No. I borrowed your notebook,” Paige replied, unfazed. “And I really did need white pepper. I’m making creamy mashed potatoes and fried chicken tonight. You can come over if you’d like.”

  Still looking miffed, Sherry shrugged, noncommittedly.

  Alex sat down in front of her. “Sherry, I know you’re upset, but I need you to take me through everything you remember about the chapter on Spinning Hills. I’m trying to find a copy of the book, but I haven’t been successful yet. Can you do your best to remember everything?”

  “You won’t find a copy. It was self-published by Ruth Kilmer, a dear friend of mine who died thirty years ago. She never found a publisher. It was the only copy. But of course I’ll try my best to remember. There were so many details, though. Like, who was related to whom, and local gossip about what went on behind closed doors, to show how local scandals fed the ghost stories. But Rosa and Ruby might remember things I forget. I’ll call them.”

  The three women remembered quite a few details from the book, but they acknowledged there was a lot more. They promised to try and remember as much as they could and that they’d call Alex with every new piece of information they remembered.

  But Rosa and Ruby were also as furious as Paige had ever seen them. They couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed the book was missing.

  And Paige had been wrong about her life going into overdrive. Hyper-drive was more like it.

  Later that morning, someone called with a great offer for her car. They would need until next Tuesday to get financing in place, and they’d meet at the bank so Paige could pay off what she owed. It would still leave her a nice chunk of change that would help her buy a good used car, have something to put toward a down payment on a house, and still leave a little cash left over. But was that really what she wanted to do?

  There was no time to sit and think and analyze. Alex had moved fast. Both Sam Amador and Cassie McGillicuddy were helping him secure permission to visit abandoned houses under the guise of being a potential buyer. The owners, mostly esta
tes, children and grandchildren of prior owners, and the county and town, were glad to agree and potentially get “haunted” houses nobody wanted off their hands.

  Alex had revised his plan somewhat as Grandma Sherry, Ruby, and Rosa remembered things, but not by much.

  A series of bomb threats called in to Cincinnati schools had tied up other agents, and the Amadors couldn’t help out with searches until after 5 p.m. and then only sporadically, as Sam and Dan had kids, and Johnny was a school psychologist involved in extracurricular activities. So it was mainly Alex and her alone for the entire day.

  When they got to Mad Maddie’s house, Alex turned to her, looking animated. “Rosa remembered that the steps here double as secret drawers. Apparently, it’s where Maddie’s husband hid the bootleg.”

  Paige watched him, finding Alex’s boyish enthusiasm a more fascinating discovery than any secret compartment. “I wonder what else we’ll find,” she said, uncomfortably aware that she was thinking about her companion and not the house.

  They checked them all and found nothing but dead bugs . . . and a few scattered, empty alcohol bottles. Paige looked away. Alex stepped in front of her, put a finger beneath her chin, and gently lifted her face to his. “This bothers you, doesn’t it? I’m sorry.”

  His soft touch and the remorse in his voice had her heart stuttering. It took her a moment to calm down and focus on what he was saying. “I’m okay. I don’t touch the stuff, but most people drink socially, so I’m used to seeing empty alcohol bottles.”

  “You don’t have to stay, or help, you know. I can walk you home.”

  Walk her home, when home was only two doors down? She shook her head. Why was he being so sweet? Indifference had been so much easier to handle. “No. I’m okay. I guess it’s just seeing the bottles like this—empty, broken, scattered . . .” He looked like he wanted to understand, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to him to. It made whatever was between them feel like friendship. “But I’m going to be around many more reminders in my new job, and, for the first time in my life, I’m looking forward to drawing from everything I’ve ever felt. The good, the bittersweet, and all the lows. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Right now, though, I want my head to be here, leaving no stone unturned.”