Steeped in Suspicion

by Eryn Scott

  I waved to her and headed down the street, toward the retired doctor’s house.

  The sun peeked through the clouds, but they still spit rain, so the light offered only a minuscule amount of relief from the cold. I pulled my jacket tighter as I knocked on the door of the blue house at the end of the cove.

  “Coming,” said an man from within.

  All too late, I realized that if this man was a suspect in my grandma’s murder, I probably shouldn’t be going inside his house alone. It was cold outside but not unbearably so. I tried to make a plan of how to avoid entering if he invited me inside.

  In that moment, I wished I’d thought this through better, that I’d thought to bring Althea along with me. Even more, I wished Asher were here with me.

  The man who opened the front door a few moments later struck me as about ten years younger than Carl. But unlike my neighbor’s stooped and angry demeanor, this man stood tall and wore a broad smile. He wasn’t much taller than me, but there was an air about him that told me he had no problem commanding the respect of a room.

  “Hello,” he said, keeping his grin in place. Any cheerfulness faded though. “Wait, you look too much like …” He trailed off, rubbing a hand across the gray stubble on his jaw.

  I curled my toes inside my shoes to release my nervous energy. “I’m Helen Woodmere’s granddaughter, Rosemary.” I held out my hand to shake his, unsure if he would even want to after the disappointed way his face fell when he realized who I was.

  Behind him, I noticed a woman peek around the corner. The doctor pulled the door closer to him so I couldn’t see inside.

  “Right. I heard you were in town.” He took my hand and shook it, squeezing tight for a moment before letting go.

  His hands were quintessential doctor’s hands: cold and smooth, probably from washing them so often. He didn’t invite me in but leaned against the frame of the open door.

  “I’m really sorry about your grandmother’s passing.” He smoothed his graying hair flat with one of those cold hands.

  “Why are you sorry?” I asked, knowing it was a cheap shot, but needing to broach the subject before he closed the door in my face.

  His eye twitched. “It’s just—it’s what people say.” His cheeks reddened, and he looked away from me.

  “Is it?” I asked, venting all my frustration from my day of missing Asher toward this doctor. “Or do you feel guilty about the huge fight you got into with her the day she died?” I asked, stopping short of accusing him of murder.

  The doctor’s face fell. “You heard about that?” he asked.

  “Heard it happened but not what it was about. Care to enlighten me about that?” I clamped my mouth shut after that last question.

  I’d done a lot more talking than I probably should’ve already and was ready to fall back to my old standard—listening. But while I expected him to open up like everyone else in town had with me so far, this man made it clear he was a closed book.

  Crossing his arms, he glared at me. “It wasn’t about anything. It was none of your business, and I need to go.” He growled out the demand.

  Before I could say anything more, he slammed the door shut in my face.

  I stood there stunned and frozen for a second before anger welled up inside me and thawed me out. That wasn’t the behavior of an innocent person. Turning on my heel, I stomped away from the doctor’s house. Loneliness wrapped up around me, and I wished Asher were here so I could talk through this. I even searched for Meow in town as I walked, knowing his company wouldn’t be the same as having Asher, but it would be something.

  As I walked past Wallace’s grocery store, I popped inside to grab a sandwich. Having food in my stomach gave me a much-needed burst of hope. Inside that hopeful state, the possibility that Asher might have reappeared consumed me, and I drove home probably a little too fast in my excitement.

  But there was still no Asher. Not inside. Not out on the beach.

  It wasn’t until my second pass through the house I got an idea.

  Asher had mentioned how he’d spent a lot of time in the abandoned cannery with other local ghosts lately. The hurt on his face in the moments before he vanished made me positive he wouldn’t come back here anytime soon. If that were the case, it would be worth it to check and see if he was at the cannery.

  Carl waved as I drove down the easement, but I only returned the wave, too excited about my idea to stop and talk. It was only after I turned onto Misty Drive that I realized I didn’t know how to get to the cannery. Seeing there were no cars coming behind me on the road, I slowed my car and contemplated going back and asking Carl for directions. But as I rolled forward, I saw a turn off ahead. The road was pitted and potholed. I took it, hoping that its forgotten state meant I’d chosen the correct road.

  Desperation Cliff loomed ahead of me confirming the road was right, and I started climbing up. I pulled the car to a slow stop for a moment on the top of the cliff, rolling down my window and letting the whoosh of sea air push past me. Even from the safety of my car, I imagined the teetering fear of being balanced on top of the cliff and how scary peering down at the rocks hundreds of feet below might be.

  Rolling up my window with a shiver, I pressed on the accelerator and proceeded down the hill. The large concrete building at the bottom of the hill was almost as foreboding as the cliff, and I realized my day wasn’t about to get any more pleasant. I longed to curl up in the teahouse’s library with a blanket, a book, and a cup of tea. But Asher might be in here.

  If he was, I had to find him, had to bring him back.

  Parking in the cracked, weed-infested lot in front of the old building, I steeled my courage. There was a long list of reasons why I shouldn’t enter. On that list were things like how this place looked straight out of a horror movie, not to be outdone by the disturbing fact that no one knew I was here. But curiosity and a burning need to find Asher pushed me forward.

  The broken windows looked like missing teeth on a grimacing concrete face, and I got out of my car before I changed my mind. Even though the main doors had been boarded up and chained shut, one of the large windows to the right had been completely kicked in, and I stepped through to enter the shell of a building.

  Inside smelled of decaying fish and stale air. Other than a few metal tables and old broken machines, the cannery was empty. An inch or two of dirt and dust collected on the floor, and my shoes left prints as I walked forward. Luckily, I didn’t see any other footprints; I really didn’t want to think about the kinds of humans who might hang out in a place like this. Of course, all I cared about was the nonliving, someone who wouldn’t make footprints.

  “Asher?” I called, my voice mixed with the ocean waves echoing off the bare concrete walls.

  And even though I recognized it was only the sound of my voice, it was comforting. So I kept talking.

  “Asher, I don’t know if you’re here, or if you’ll respond to me, even if you are. I’m so sorry about hurting your feelings.” I talked as I walked up to a small office. The door hung on its hinges, leaning against the inside wall.

  Inside the office, ancient floral wallpaper peeled like birch tree bark. Reaching out, I tried to flatten the curls with my fingers only to have them spring back and crackle at me in protest. A long-forgotten desk sat in one corner. I turned around. Asher wasn’t in here.

  Moving back into the large main room, I kept talking.

  “I met with Doc Gallagher today, and he’s hiding something. I can feel it. I know we thought the mayor was our best suspect, but I think this fight Grandma had with the retired doctor the day she died is important. The way he got so angry, slammed the door in my face, I think he could be the person who killed her.” I swallowed, shaking my head to keep frustrated tears at bay. I meandered over to a window overlooking the beach below. The breeze kicking up from the waves felt like a lifeline as it filled my lungs, allowed me to breathe again.

  Fresh as the air by the window was, those loud, crashing waves mad
e it so I didn’t hear the sounds behind me at first.

  19

  A voice that wasn’t mine broke through the wind and the waves.

  “Psh. The doc? Doubtful.”

  I spun around, heart racing with excitement.

  “Ash—?” His name died on my lips as I took in the two men entering the room. Both were older: neither were Asher.

  They walked shoulder to shoulder.

  “Excuse me,” I said, inching forward. “Why would you say that? Why is what I said doubtful?”

  It was then I realized their feet weren’t making any prints in the dusty ground as they crossed the room. Afternoon sun shone through the broken windows, shining through their transparent bodies. My chest constricted in fear for a moment. Asher had said other ghosts hung out here. I should’ve expected this.

  The surprised expressions on their faces as they spun to watch me approach abated some of that fear.

  “What did you say?” the older of the two asked, his forehead furrowing as his gaze flicked over me in surprise. “You can see us?”

  Both men had graying hair—though one had much more than the other. They wore similar denim jackets with collars lined in a white sheared material and worn jeans. Unlike Asher, the men appeared contemporary, at least from the current century.

  Squaring my shoulders, I held eye contact with the one who’d asked the questions and said, “Yes, I can see you, and I can hear you too. What did you mean a moment ago when you said doubtful?”

  The man open and closed his mouth in surprise before finally answering. “Uh—well, that thing you said about the doc.” He ran a hand over the back of his ghostly neck. “There’s no way the doc killed anyone, let alone a grandma. Who is she, by the way? Your grandma?”

  “Helen Woodmere.”

  The men shared a glance and laughed. “Yeah,” the older one said through a chuckle. “No way Doc Gallagher did anything to hurt her.”

  I put a hand on my hip in disbelief. “And how can you be so sure?”

  “They loved each other,” the younger man said.

  I coughed. “He has to be at least twenty years younger than her.” As I said it, I realized how stodgy and old fashioned I sounded. I mean, there were couples with larger age differences who made things work.

  The older man sniffed. “Nah, not romantically, I don’t think. There was like a respect between them. They went to each other when they had problems. Disagreed on just about every topic but loved to debate.”

  As I listened, doubt surrounded me like stars around a cartoon character after they’ve run straight into a brick wall. I blinked in an effort to get rid of them. “How do you know that?” I asked.

  Then I remembered how I knew a lot of things that I couldn’t explain because of Asher and Meow. These men were ghosts too. They probably had access to way more information than I realized.

  The older ghost frowned. “They used to fight all the time in the tea shop, in the café, in the doctor’s office. Heck, those two fought anywhere they could. But mostly, I know about their true feelings because of Lois.”

  “Lois?” I asked.

  The younger one nodded. “Yeah, if you want to know about every detail, you’ve got to talk to Lois for sure.”

  “And she is?”

  “The woman who used to live in his house. Still hangs out there,” the younger one said.

  “Probably more than she should,” the older man said, widening his eyes.

  The younger one cringed. “Yeah, I’d say she’s got a bit of a crush on the good doctor. A little unhealthy, if you ask me. She shouldn’t be hanging around a living man searching for love.”

  “You only say that because you want her to come hang around you more,” the older man said, jabbing his elbow toward the younger one.

  Drowning out their friendly banter, my mind flashed back to the doctor’s house, to the woman I caught peeking around the corner behind him. I’d assumed she lived there, that she was his wife.

  “Healthy or not, she hears everything that goes on in that house. She’d know for sure.” The older man dipped his chin.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Lois. Thanks.” I moved my shoe in an arch in front of me, leaving a half-moon mark in the dust and dirt. “You two haven’t—er—seen anyone else around here lately, have you?”

  “Who?” The old man cocked his head.

  “Asher Benson.”

  “That twenties kid?” he asked.

  Unsure if he was talking about how Asher appeared to be in his twenties or if he was from the nineteen twenties, I just nodded. Even though I knew Asher technically died sometime in 1918, I figured it was close enough.

  “We haven’t seen him for a few days. Been showing up a lot lately, but didn’t show up at all this weekend.” The younger man spoke, but they both considered me, as if realizing at the same moment that I was the reason for Asher’s absence.

  “Okay,” I said, downcast. “If you do, would you tell him I’m looking for him? Rosemary,” I added, pointing to my chest.

  “Max.” The younger one held out a hand toward me, before pulling it back sheepishly. “Sorry, I still forget.”

  “Tim.” The old man lifted his chin in a way that was either a greeting or he was sizing me up. I chose to believe the former.

  “Nice to meet you.” I was about to leave when my feet froze, and I turned back toward the men. “Are you both okay?” My cheeks heated. “I mean, you’re here because you have unfinished business. Do you need any help?”

  Max’s face softened. “That’s very kind of you, Miss Rosemary. I’m good. Took me until a year or two back to figure out that my wife offed me. I’ve got all the closure I’ll ever get in that department.”

  “And I don’t want to cross over because my mother-in-law is on the other side, and I can’t stand the idea of having to see her again,” Tim said with a rough laugh.

  I frowned. “So you’re both here even though you don’t have to be?” I asked.

  Max said, “Oh, I’ve got unfinished business all right. Haunting my ex-wife is a full-time job.”

  “Haunting her? Shouldn’t she go to jail? Maybe you’re still around because you haven’t gotten the justice you deserve.”

  Max glanced at Tim and laughed again. “Believe me, Rosemary, the ways I’ve been able to make her life miserable is better than any sentence she could ever receive in a jail.”

  My stomach flipped. Here I’d thought these two men were nice; they’d been growing on me. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  Tim got the real meaning behind my question. “But yes, we can stay here if we chose to. Some souls don’t care to move on.”

  I thought of Meow. Apparently, cats weren’t the only slippery souls out there.

  “Helps when you’ve got a friend by your side,” Max said, smiling over at Tim.

  The gesture made my heart ache thinking of Asher, my mom, my grandmother. Aware that my pain was probably written on my face, I scratched at my nose to cover.

  “Okay, just checking. Good day, gentlemen.” I gave the men a quick salute and then jogged back toward the parking lot, eager to put this place in my rearview mirror.

  The sun was dipping down close to the horizon and I groaned. I really didn’t want to go home to an empty house again. When I pulled the car toward the end of the abandoned road that led to the cannery, I noticed Misty Road continued to the left. It curved upward toward the tree-filled hills sitting behind Pebble Cove.

  Up on one hill, I saw warm lights blinking through the dark greens and browns. A large white building sat tucked up there. I thought about Althea telling me about her restorative center: quiet, secluded, right outside of town.

  That must be it, I realized. And without Asher around to talk with, her offer to come visit sounded better than ever. Max and Tim had reminded me how much better life could be with someone to listen. Althea had been my grandma’s best friend. She felt like the right person to talk to about my suspicions.

  So instead of turning right
to go back to the teahouse, I took a left and followed the winding road up into the forest. About a mile in, a hand-carved sign told me to turn left for The Pines.

  The place was breathtaking. A huge white farmhouse sat on top of a grassy knoll on an acre-sized clearing in the trees. Also in the clearing were two large garden plots, a chicken coop, a winding circular labyrinth, and a barn. Yellow lights glowed from every window and twinkled from small decorative lamps along the pathway leading up to the house.

  Almost all the parking spaces were full, but I found one closer to the barn. When I stepped out of my car, the echoed sounds of birds chirping in the trees made me close my eyes, and I tipped my head back. The crashing waves of the beach were a quiet white noise in the background. Other than that, the place was silent.

  I squared my shoulders, already feeling better.

  Althea greeted me as I walked up to the house. She wore a blue apron and an inviting smile.

  “I’m so glad you joined us.” She wiped her hands on the apron and then held them out as she met me halfway on the stairs and pulled me into a hug.

  I squeezed her tight, reveling in the feeling of a hug after such a bad day. “It’s gorgeous up here.”

  I turned away from the house to survey the property. From my new vantage point on the stairs, I could see the ocean over the tops of the evergreens.

  “My bedroom has the best view,” Althea said, pointing up at a small window under the peak of the roof in the attic. “It’s the one room I’ll never rent out.”

  I looked back at her. Her rosy cheeks just about glowed in the light from the house.

  “You have quite the full house here,” I said as I motioned to the parking lot. “I can see why. It’s the most peaceful place I’ve set foot in a long time.”

  Althea beamed. “Thank you, Rosemary. That means a lot. Yes, we’ve almost got a full house. Just one room open at the moment.”

  I swallowed, realizing that room had probably been reserved for the dead man who’d washed up on my beach.