“Where to?” he asked, pulling out of his parking space.
Bane was just leaving the building. Jake slowed and rolled down his window, letting Bane see who was riding shotgun in his car.
“Don’t leave town.”
Ryley leaned forward and smiled at Bane. “I found the proof to get them off your back. We’ll talk soon.”
Jake rolled the window up. “Is that why you’re here? Bane talked you into asking the spirits in an attempt to ward off arrest.”
She turned, no smile on her face. “Yes. He did hire me like in a private detective kind of way to uncover the truth. Be glad he did, because I know what happened.”
“Yeah, and how is that?”
“I saw it all. And soon you will, too,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Sure, you did. So, where are we going?”
“The corner of Marietta and Monroe,” Ryley said, sliding her sunglasses down over her eyes.
“That’s where Curtis lives.”
“Well, at least you know that much. I won’t have to do your entire job for you.”
The ride to Curtis’s street took only fifteen minutes. Jake turned on the road and slowed at the curb. “Where now?”
“Right here.” Ryley unbuckled her seatbelt.
“He doesn’t live at this address. Are you sure your ghosts aren’t confused?”
“I’m the only one not confused,” Ryley said, climbing out of the SUV.
He sighed and got out, crossing the street corner to where Ryley had a look of concentration, slowly turning in a circle.
Her gaze was on the house nearest the curb when she smiled.
“He left his house and was picked up on the curb.”
“What is that going to prove?” Jake asked.
“He was ordered by gunpoint into the trunk of a car against his will,” she explained and pointed to the closest house. “I hope you brought your badge.”
She opened the gate and headed up the sidewalk with him following behind her. She knocked on the door and clasped her hands in front of her. An old lady answered the door. Her tight gray curls had just been styled. The walker she used had tennis balls covering the bottom of the legs to stave off scrapes on her floor.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Ma’am. Detective Jake Crews is with the police department.” Ryley turned and gave him that look.
“Right.” He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open so the woman could see his badge.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
“Do your security cameras work?” Ryley asked.
Jake’s gaze flew to the camera, pointing out into the yard, and the other one aimed at her porch.
“Of course. My son is serious about my safety. Especially after that break-in two years ago.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Not that you’d had a break-in, but that they were working.” Ryley glanced over her shoulder with a grin. “We believe a crime was committed on that street corner on…”
“April nineteenth,” Jake said, stepping forward. “Do you mind if we review your security feed?”
“Of course not.” She pulled the door open.
She turned and stepped, pausing with each to maneuver her walker in front of her as she headed for the computer desk set up in the living room.
Her television sound was blaring as if she might have been hard of hearing. Cats were perched on her couch. She sat in the chair at the computer desk and slowly typed in the web address to her security company.
Ryley pasted on a strained smile and glanced at her watch as if she was in a hurry.
The woman pulled up the video and moved out of the seat. She pointed to the play button on the screen. “You just hit that button there, sonny.”
“Thank you,” Jake answered raising his voice so the woman could hear him, fast-forwarding until he saw Curtis come into the frame. He approached a waiting parked sedan. The tinted window made it impossible to see the driver.
“Care to bet what happens next?” Ryley whispered in his ear.
He ignored her and watched as Curtis talked to someone through the window.
“Pay attention, Detective. This is your face shot.”
The driver’s side door opened, and a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Benny Waldridge had a gun pointed at Curtis.
Jake’s mood veered sharply to anger. Benny was Curtis’s co-worker. He’d acted worried when he’d been interviewed. He’d seemed genuine. He’d played them all.
Benny kept the gun pointed at Curtis as the accountant climbed into the trunk. Benny hovered over Curtis and whispered something the video didn’t pick up before he hammered his fist into Curtis’s face and slammed the trunk shut.
“He threatened Curtis’s wife,” Ryley said, filling in the blanks.
Jake played the video again, this time recording it with his phone. He forwarded it to his partner for safekeeping until he could get a warrant.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be in contact with your security people to get an official copy.”
“Glad I can help,” the older woman said.
“We’ll see ourselves out.” Jake rested his hand on Ryley’s back and led her to the door, closing it behind him.
They crossed the street and climbed into his SUV. He sat there while she hooked her belt. How in the hell had she known?
“Do you know where they went next?” he asked, though it pained him.
She glanced at him and grinned. “Yes, and you do too, but let me fill in the rest of how it played out.”
He sighed. “I’m all ears.”
“The curb where you found him lying dead is where he escaped the trunk and ran for it. The guy with the scar shot him in the back and sped off.” She shrugged. “You might want to look for cameras around that area, too.”
He started the car and pulled out.
“Oh!” she said excitedly. “And when the scarred man hit Curtis, it left blood in the trunk from his broken nose.”
No one knew about the broken nose. Forensic hadn’t shared with anyone other than Jake that the broken nose wasn’t from the fall and that they might have gotten some DNA from the hit.
“Anything else you want to share?” Jake asked, trying to process how she knew as much as she did.
“Yeah, Curtis wants you to tell his wife that his will is hidden in the encyclopedias. If you could pass that on for him, that would be helpful.”
Jake’s eye twitched as he drove four houses down and parked his car. “Well, while we’re here, why don’t we take a look.”
Ryley’s eyes widened, and she rested her hand on his arm. “You can’t tell her I’m a medium.”
“And why is that? You’d think the widow would be grateful to hear from her departed husband.”
“And he’d be glad to talk to her if I hadn’t forced him into the light to get the information.”
His mouth parted as he stared at her, not even sure he wanted to hear more.
“What? It isn’t a crime. At least not that I’ve been told.” She shrugged. “But I find when it happens, they’re more reluctant to communicate with me if they reappear at all.”
“You take weird to all new heights,” Jake mumbled before he could call the words back.
“I never claimed to be normal. So, don’t try explaining where you got the information.” Ryley unbuckled and opened the SUV’s door.
“I’m not sure she’d believe me, anyway,” he grumbled as he followed her out of the car and toward the door.
Mrs. Jones pulled the door open before he could even knock. “Any answers?”
“Not yet,” Jake said. “Mrs. Jones, this is Ryley St. James. She’s helping out in the investigation.”
“Oh, please come in,” she said, opening the door wider.
“Mrs. Jones, we received an anonymous tip. That tipster apparently knew your husband and wanted to get a message to you without being involved.” Jake lied through his teeth.
“Okay.” Mrs. Jon
es hesitated.
“Do you have encyclopedias?”
Mrs. Jones brows dipped. “Um, sure.” She gestured to the hallway, and they followed.
“Encyclopedias are like dinosaurs,” Ryley said. “Why does your husband have them?”
Mrs. Jones opened the door to an office and gestured to the bookshelf. “My husband has a rare first edition. They’re collectible.”
“Great.” Jake let out a breath. “Apparently, your husband told the tipster that he hid his will within those pages.”
Mrs. Jones's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand as a tear formed in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked.
“I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”
They helped her look through the books. It was filed under the word love, where Curtis had highlighted the entry and it made his wife cry.
Jake drove Ryley back to the precinct and parked.
“Bane will owe you if this evidence pans out,” Jake said.
“He’s paying through the nose,” she said and leaned forward, squinting her eyes.
Jake grinned. Bane had to pay her for her help, and she’d offered it for free to his mom. Things had just turned more interesting. He followed her gaze to a car parked in the next row, where the driver was watching them with a camera pointed in their direction. “Admirer of yours?”
“He’s been following me for two days.” She dug into her purse and took out her Taser, flipping it on.
“Down, girl. You’re with a cop. I’ll go have a word with him. You stay here,” Jake said, climbing out of the car before she could protest.
Chapter 14
Ryley
Ryley chewed on her lip while Crews crossed the parking lot toward the man in the car. The camera pointing out the window disappeared.
“Please, please, please don’t know my father,” she whispered, trying to hold it together and hoping her dad hadn’t hired someone to find her.
Crews flashed his badge as he approached. Seconds that took forever passed as the two men exchanged words. Camera guy got out of his car when Crews waved for Ryley to join them.
She wasn’t ready to put away the Taser, even knowing Crews was carrying a weapon. She’d never again be that little girl who couldn’t defend herself.
Her chest tightened, and her stomach churned. Curiosity mixed with dread was a deadly combination.
“Ryley, this is Private Investigator Oscar Rothchild.”
Rothchild stood tall and straight like a towering spruce. Not counting his height, he had the type of face like any of the guys she’d passed on the street or that sit at her bar. He was a typical guy with a disarming smile and looked like someone that could be trusted. Someone she’d want to grab a beer with and yet…
“Why are you following me?” Ryley blurted out, unable to be civilized.
He reached into the car, and she lifted the Taser, keeping it between her and Oscar.
He turned with wide eyes, holding up his hands with a picture of Ryley clutched in his fingers. “Whoa there.”
She snatched the photo from his hold and stared down at it. She’d been wearing the black dress, a wide-brimmed hat and standing in front of Mr. Wilson’s casket while placing the white rose on the wood.
The flash? It wasn’t a shiny object. It was this guy. She narrowed her eyes. The unease in her stomach turned to acid. “Why did you take this? Are you some kind of creepy funeral stalker? Or did my father hire you?”
“What? No?”
She jabbed the Taser in his direction like a cattle prod, careful not to touch him. “Why do you have my picture? Who are you working for?”
“Mr. Wilson,” the private investigator blurted out.
“Kind of hard for a dead man to hire you,” she said.
“This is getting us nowhere, just tell her why you’re following her. I’ve got a killer to go arrest,” Crews demanded.
“I was tasked with taking pictures of the funeral mourners, and I did. I gave a copy to the attorney, and she asked that I track you down.”
“Why?” Ryley growled.
He pointed into the car. “Don’t electrocute me. I’m just getting another envelope.”
Ryley lowered her weapon.
He leaned in and pulled out an envelope with the letterhead of a local attorney. “She asked me to give you this.”
Ryley slid her finger beneath the flap and pulled a slip of heavy card stock. It was an invitation, her name embossed in gold.
The attorney’s name and office address were written beneath Ryley’s. Below that was tomorrow’s date with a time. “What is this?”
“Mr. Wilson’s attorney has requested your presence at the reading of the will.”
Crews glared at Ryley. “Tell me this dead Wilson guy isn’t one of your clients you conned.”
“I’ve never met the guy before,” Ryley squawked.
“Then why were you at his funeral?” Crews asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
That would be hard to explain, and no way in hell was she doing it in front of the private investigator. She tried to hand the invite back. “I’m not interested.”
Oscar held up his hands. “I got paid to deliver it. You can tell them yourself that you aren’t interested. Although Mr. Wilson’s dying request was that everyone from the funeral at least watch a video he prepared. You wouldn’t begrudge a dying man his last wish, would you?”
Ryley narrowed her eyes at the manipulative investigator as he got back into his car.
“Keep the picture. I’ve got plenty more.” The stalker pulled out before she could stop him.
Crews left her standing in the parking lot and walked back into the station.
He believed she’d swindled a man she never met. His opinion shouldn’t bother her, but it rankled her from the inside out.
She rubbed at the headache forming behind her eyes, even as the sun sank behind the trees. She had less than an hour to get to Rosalind’s house, and she still had one more stop to make. Well, two if she counted the copious amounts of coffee, she’d need to stay awake to catch the stalking ghost.
Ryley drove to the cemetery across town. The parking lot deserted. The sacred grounds were cast in shadows where night threatened to enter. She got out of her vehicle and rooted around in her trunk.
Bundles of sage and lighters were in one of her bags next to the bottle of tar water. An unopened pack of tarot cards in another. Toys from years ago, fake flowers. She’d tried to be prepared for almost any entity she might encounter.
Sometimes spirits just wanted to be remembered, to be mourned or missed. Other times they had a message to pass along.
She’d help if she could. Sometimes it was something much harder to deal with.
She grabbed her bag and shoved a toy inside, along with a pad of paper and a pen. When she slammed her trunk shut, the noise echoed off the asphalt and bounced off nearby tombstones.
Her gaze was fixated on her destination. Making eye contact with any other spirits that might be lurking would only delay the inevitable.
The little boy was no longer in the tree.
The silence was deafening; no sounds of cars, no sounds of birds, no sounds of life. Ryley settled on the seat in front of the grave and took out her pen. On a sheet, she wrote down the names etched in the stones.
It was a family plot. The little headstone read Adam Bell. Two larger stones with the names Rose and Lucas Bell stood on each side as if surrounding and protecting the child even in death.
She flipped the sheet to the next page and wrote out a message.
I can help you.
Ryley ripped the page free and slipped a toy racecar out of her purse. If there was one thing she knew, it was that all kids, no matter what generation they lived, liked to play with toys.
She put the note in front of the grave, using the car to hold it in place.
The evening breeze kissed her skin as she sat on the hard bench for as long as she could with no respo
nse, before she stood to leave.
“I’ll be back again and again and again until you talk to me,” she called out, knowing the little boy must be watching from afar. She had another ghost to go catch. One that, if what Rosalind said was true, wasn’t going to get the same welcoming invitation, just an order to leave.
Chapter 15
Ryley stopped for coffee before parking on the driveway, next to Rosalind’s Jag. The lights shone through the living room, casting a glow into the evening beyond. The heavy curtains were only partially closed.
A doctor like Rosalind knew the crazies in the world.
Ryley strolled to the door and knocked. Rosalind answered with a blush on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry my son tried to arrest you last night. He’s just overprotective.”
“Thanks, and don’t worry about Jake. I’m actually glad he was watching your house and taking the threat seriously.”
“Please come in.”
Ryley stepped inside. Rosalind closed the door behind them. She turned toward the kitchen, leaving the door unlocked with her suitcase sitting next it.
“Do you always leave your doors unlocked?” Ryley asked, not moving from the spot.
“Not always, but I wasn’t sure if you were staying or just stopped by to tell me I’m on my own thanks to Jake’s shenanigans.”
Ryley locked the door and followed her into the living room, where Rosalind had a partially empty wine glass sitting on the table next to the couch. A manilla file sat next to the liquor.
She gestured for Ryley to sit. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Ryley held up her coffee cup. “I’m good.”
Rosalind sat down with a sigh and picked up the file, passing it to Ryley.
The thick file was heavy. Ryley flipped it open. A picture of a smiling woman was attached to the inside flap. She was pretty, probably in her forties. The laugh lines around her eyes showed she’d enjoyed her life. The diamond necklace suggested she had money. She was holding the arm of a man wearing a tuxedo. There was an unmistakable look of love in his eyes as he stared at her.
Grave Wrong (Lost Souls Society Book 1) Page 7
