Mary Jane's Grave
Page 5
I had done a brief check into the kids and found that none had a criminal record or been involved in any trouble at school. In fact, his files had revealed that Kyle was a straight- A student and a star soccer player.
“Kyle, you wanted to tell me something, so I’m waiting to hear it,” I said for openers, trying to suppress my impatience.
“You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” he protested, clearly stalling for time.
“Tell me anyway,” I said. “I’m a good listener.”
“I didn’t tell you this before because it’s nuts.” He took a deep breath. “That night at the grave, I did see someone else.”
“Who?” My heart quickened.
“I saw a woman.”
“You saw a woman at the grave?” This was hardly what I’d expected him to say.
“Yeah. When Nate and I got out of the car to switch seats, I ran around the back of the car, and something caught my eye. I looked at it. There was a woman standing by the edge of the woods.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about this before? What did she look like?”
“I didn’t say anything because, um, she was a little different looking.”
“Kyle, get to your point already.” I was close to losing my patience.
“She, um, she had a white dress on, and she looked like, um, a ghost.” He looked at the floor as if in shame.
I couldn’t believe it. The ghost lady again? Frankly, I’d had enough of the woman- in- the- white- dress theory. Kyle Latham had answers for me, and I wasn’t going to listen to another supernatural close encounter. I slammed my notebook on the floor and stood.
“You mean to tell me this is why you wanted to talk? Bullshit, Kyle, and nice try! Trying to pawn off a murder on a ghost won’t work. You kids were the only ones at the grave that night, and someone better start talking before I start issuing warrants.”
Kyle’s jaw dropped, and he looked at me with real surprise. I couldn’t believe his arrogance! To think that he thought someone in law enforcement would believe such a story! I opened the door and called his father back to the office. He looked bewildered as he glanced from me to Kyle.
“Mr. Latham, did Kyle tell you what he was going to tell me?”
“Yes, ma’am, he did.”
“Please tell me you don’t believe that crap.”
“Sergeant, if you don’t mind my saying so, I know my son and if he said that’s what he saw, then he saw it. Kyle is not a liar. It took quite a bit of courage for him to tell you this.” He was clearly struggling to maintain his composure, his hand resting on Kyle’s shoulder protectively.
“I’m sure it did. Now, let me explain something. Your son and his friends are the only ones at the scene of a murder. There is no evidence to indicate that anyone else was there, human or ghost. If Kyle is worried about the trouble he’s in, it’ll be far worse if he doesn’t start talking. The first one to cooperate usually gets the lightest sentence. If there’s the slightest chance these kids had nothing to do with it, I’ll apologize to each and every one of them, but I don’t think that’s the case.” I looked at Kyle. “You can help me by telling me the truth, Kyle.”
But his father had had enough, too. Enough of me. “Sergeant, I think you’d better leave. If you want to talk to my son again, it’ll be in the presence of an attorney.”
“That’ll be fine. Just let me know if you change your mind.”
I was angry when I left Kyle’s house. My hopes were not only dashed, they’d been stomped on. I had been sure that Kyle was the break I needed, not another haunted grave story.
But before I’d reached the end of Kyle’s road, I turned my car around and headed back to his house. I knew I’d be unwelcome, so I prepared myself for a verbal confrontation as I knocked on the door. Mr. Latham answered.
I tried a smile. “Mr. Latham, I know you don’t want me talking to Kyle again, but if you wouldn’t mind asking him a question for me I’d appreciate it. It’s about the woman he saw.”
At first, I thought he was going to refuse, but his face relaxed and he called Kyle to the door. Kyle didn’t look at all happy to see me again.
“Kyle, about the woman you saw, can you tell me what color hair she had and about how old she was?”
He looked at his father and waited for the approving nod. “She was old, very old. Her hair was white and her face was old, wrinkly and scary. Is that good enough?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you.”
At least now I had something. I had a lie. Kyle’s description of the woman didn’t match Gary’s. Unless ghosts aged, both Gary and Kyle had merely fleshed out a description around the woman in the white dress, adding their own finishing touches. Kyle’s description was so cliché it was downright corny: old, wrinkly, with white hair. He’d just described every witch mask from here to China.
CHAPTER SIX
After I went back to my office and typed up my interview with Kyle, I saw that it was late, close to eleven. I assumed everyone was asleep when I got home because the house looked dark when I pulled into my driveway. Seeing the light on in the study proved me wrong. Michael was in there, working on his own case files.
“You’re up late,” I greeted him, affectionately planting a kiss on his cheek.
“I have a trial next week and I haven’t done a thing to prepare for it. Did you eat?” He continued to inspect the file in front of him as he spoke.
“No.”
“There’s plenty of pizza left in the fridge, but prepare yourself—the kids picked off most of the pepperoni.”
“Actually, Michael, I’m not hungry at all. Can we talk for a minute? I want to tell you what happened.”
He put his file down and gave me his full attention. I curled up on our comfy sofa and told Michael about my interview with Kyle and the story Gary Fenner had told me, explaining how I felt both of their stories were ridiculous.
“Why would they make up stories about the woman, Michael? It has no bearing on anything that happened to either one of them—well, maybe Kyle. Between Nathan’s crying baby and Kyle’s ghost woman, I think they’re trying to steer us in the direction of the super-natural, and the only reason I can think they would do that is they were involved somehow.”
“Did you ever think that maybe they’re not lying?” Michael never ceased to surprise me, one of the reasons I was so attracted to him. I could see he was serious by the look in his hazel eyes.
“Michael, don’t tell me you believe in this ghost nonsense,” I scoffed. “C’mon, you’re an FBI man!”
He laughed, exposing his perfect smile. “That’s not what I’m saying, Cee. But don’t discount these reports out of hand. Maybe Kyle did see a woman standing by the woods.”
“Okay, then, who was she?”
“First, let’s start with Gary and his story,” Michael said in a professional tone.
“I’m all ears,” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“It’s entirely possible that there was a woman in the road,” Michael continued. “I know you said that the descriptions didn’t match, but did you find out whether there were any domestic calls the night of the crash in that area? Maybe a woman grabbed her baby and ran out of her house,” he theorized. “Maybe she was trying to flag down Gary’s car for whatever reason. Look, all I’m saying is that these kids may actually have seen women at the scene.”
I mulled over his words for a minute. “Why would a woman be at the grave, then?”
“How do you know she wasn’t with your suspects, Cee? Maybe she was a lookout who got away before the cops arrived, and they’re protecting her, concocting the ghost story. Did they check for prints where Kyle said he saw her?”
“I don’t think so. Their car was parked by the entrance, and I don’t think Bob scoured the entire woods for prints. Plus, Kyle said she was extremely old, with white hair. Doesn’t sound much like a bad guy to me. Not to mention, they’re going to a hell of an extreme ‘protecting’ a friend. I don’t buy it.”
/>
“I can’t explain it right now. I’m just saying maybe it’s something you should look into.” He paused briefly. “Cee, getting off the subject a minute, I wondered if you’ve talked to Eric or your attorney yet?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, knowing I hadn’t. In a way, it seemed he intentionally wanted to see me squirm.
I flushed. In fact, I had completely forgotten. I’d been so consumed by this case, everything else had been put on hold. I didn’t need to answer Michael’s question; he saw my face.
“I’ll take that as no.” His voice was low and strong, and he looked annoyed, with a touch of smugness. The man knew me very well.
I looked at him with pleading eyes. “Michael, I’m sorry! I promise I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow. I’ve been caught up in this case and I didn’t—”
Michael put his hand up and interrupted me. “It’s okay, Cee. When you get to it, you get to it. I know you have a job to do, but I’d like to see you follow through on your commitments. You’d expect the same of me, wouldn’t you?”
I went over and laid my head against his chest and held him tightly. I knew I’d hurt his feelings by not making our life a priority, and I vowed to take care of the matter tomorrow.
After Michael and I had gone to bed, I couldn’t sleep. What he had said earlier about the women kept going through my head. Since patience was not part of my vocabulary, I couldn’t wait until morning to find out, so I got out of bed, slowly, so as not to wake Michael.
After throwing on a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and an old pair of sneakers, I grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight out of the garage and headed down to Tucker Road. I had already checked in the back of my SUV to confirm that my camera and tape recorder were in there. Figuring I’d be back within two hours if I floored it, I hopped in, popped in a tape, and took off. Michael would never even know I’d gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When I turned onto Tucker Road and saw how dark it was, I thought I should’ve waited until morning. I felt my old fears rise to the surface but fought them back. I’m a cop, for Christ’s sake!
Gathering my courage, I headed toward the cemetery after getting on my police radio to tell the dispatchers where I was. It wasn’t that I was worried about ghosts or dead witches, but if I ran into a group of drunks partying at the grave, I might need some help. There was supposed to be an officer parked at the grave to prevent curious locals from visiting the site after the murder, but to my surprise, no one was there.
I parked near the gate and considered leaving my headlights on for more light, then decided against it. The last thing I needed was to get stuck down here with a dead battery. As I got out of my car I remembered to grab my mini tape recorder and my camera, which I hung around my neck.
As I started walking toward the woods, I had a sudden thought and turned back to the car to grab my gun. Better safe than sorry. Then I started back toward the area where Kyle said he had seen the woman.
I pointed my flashlight toward the tree where Kari was found and scanned the cemetery. It was just as eerie as always. The broken tombstones were far apart from one another, all surrounding the large pine tree with a cross burned into the front of it. As I got closer to the edge of the woods, I pointed the flashlight down to look for any imprints, shoe or otherwise, in the ground.
At the exact area Kyle had been talking about, I actually got down on my knees and scoured the ground, inch by inch. I found a slight impression in the dirt, about a foot from a large maple tree at the edge of the woods. I couldn’t tell if it was from a shoe or a hoof print, so I grabbed my camera and began to photograph it. I heard a noise behind me. Gun in hand, I whirled around, shining my flashlight over the cemetery.
Remembering my tape recorder, I quickly hit the record button, holding the recorder in the same hand as my flashlight. At first, I thought the noise sounded like a grunt, and knowing the woods can produce unusual sounds, I tried to brush it off.
A few years earlier, I’d been in a patch of woods at night searching for a rape suspect who’d escaped from a uniformed officer. I had been standing still when I heard a low grunt or growl, with heavy breathing behind me. Convinced I would turn around and face none other than Bigfoot himself, I was startled to see a large buck with a pretty impressive rack on his head. In retrospect, I guess I was lucky I hadn’t been gouged to death.
I felt a chill go up my spine, and I shivered. It was brisk, but not as cold as it had been the night of the murder. I stood for a few more minutes and listened, but heard nothing. The sound was enough to make me call it a night and I quickly headed back to my car. Although it was probably a coyote or deer, I really wasn’t in the mood to investigate.
The imprint I found could have been anything, and I decided to look at the area more closely in the daylight.
When I pulled out onto Pleasant Valley Road, a long, winding road that made its way through the foothills, I saw headlights coming from my right. They were far away enough that I had plenty of time to pull out onto the road, but in a few seconds the car was so close behind me I couldn’t see its headlights anymore. It had to have been doing seventy-five, at the very least. The car stayed on my tail for another half mile before backing off.
I was annoyed, and had I been able to see the license plate, I would’ve called it in; the driver was probably drunk.
It was only when I was almost back inside the city limits and had made four turns that I realized the car was following me. I started zigzagging down side streets and called for assistance on the radio. Then I turned right on a dead-end street and threw my car into park. I jumped out with my gun and badge, ready to confront the driver.
He must’ve anticipated my move because he kept going straight by and I could only catch the back end of the vehicle, which looked like a dark compact car. It was only a few minutes before the uniformed officers arrived. Eric was the first one, and my father, the night-shift lieutenant, followed.
“CeeCee, what’s going on?” Eric asked, a frown of annoyance on his face. I was suddenly aware of how drawn he looked.
I explained what had happened, and he radioed for the other patrol cars to check the area. I also reassured them that I was fine.
“I’ll go look around for the car, CeeCee,” my dad offered. “Call me tomorrow, and get yourself to bed. We’ve both been worried about you.”
I didn’t have a chance to protest because I heard my cell phone ringing. I knew it was Michael, but just as I took the call Eric came up to ask if I wanted him to drive me home.
Michael must have heard him. “CeeCee! Where are you? Was that Eric?” he said, his voice rising.
“Michael, I’m okay. I’ll call you back.”
I knew Michael would be furious, especially since I hadn’t explained what had happened. All he knew was I wasn’t home at three o’clock in the morning and that when he called me, I was with Eric.
The officers checking the area couldn’t find Anything, so I asked Eric to write a report on the incident and forward it to me in the morning.
But before I got in my car I remembered something. I saw Eric standing with a group of other officers and realized this wouldn’t be a good time.
“Eric, when you get a chance, I need to talk to you about something as soon as possible, if you can. It’s personal.”
“It’s not the girls, is it?” He looked concerned again.
“No, no, of course not. It’s us.”
He looked taken aback. “Us? Well, why don’t you meet me at the Corner Grill tomorrow night at six? I gotta go in early and I can grab something to eat while we talk. Jordan will already be at work.”
“That’ll be fine. I’ll see you then,” I said, disliking this whole business.
I already anticipated a confrontation with Michael when I got home, so it was no surprise to see him sitting on the couch in our living room, waiting.
“I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to in the middle of the night,” he said stiffly.
“G
ood, because I can’t wait to tell you,” I said with a grin, hoping to warm him up.
I sat down next to him and told him about my eventful night. By the time I got to the end of it, his face had softened considerably.
“You know, the only thing I don’t like about this whole business is the possibility that someone followed you to night. God only knows how many enemies you make on some of your cases, which is why it wasn’t very smart to go down there alone.”
I nodded, knowing he was right.
“Just promise me that next time you’ll let me know if you’re leaving, okay?” he said quietly.
I squeezed his hand. “Okay.”
When we finally went back to bed I was still fairly wired. By the time I had to get up for work, I had slept less than an hour. It was going to be another long, long day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In my office, Naomi and Coop expressed their own concerns about what had occurred earlier. Coop wrote down the description of the car and said he was going to drive around the campgrounds near Tucker Road to look for it. I knew Coop was working on two other homicide cases, so I tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but stubborn as always, he didn’t listen.
I spent much of the day catching up on paperwork and listening to ridiculous phone messages from people desperate to leave their Mary Jane stories on my voice mail. When I was almost done for the day, I called Bob over at the lab.
“It’s CeeCee, just checking in,” I said wearily. “Anything more turn up?”
“Not yet, but we still don’t have everything back,” he reported. “Hey, I forgot to tell you this yesterday. For laughs, we took a sample of the burn mark from the tree. You know how some people claim it’s spray paint or a carving, etcetera? Turns out it really is burned wood, and according to the lab, it’s pretty old, too.”
“I’m glad you had a few laughs, Bob, but that doesn’t solve my case. Let me know when you hear something, okay?”
The “burn mark” Bob was referring to, according to the legend, was the spot where the witch, Mary Jane, had reportedly been burned as she hung from the tree. I know of several instances where vandals have tried to set the tree on fire, so I dismissed his update on this historic evidence as just that.