by Rose Pressey
He hesitated, but followed me back to the trailer. I pointed, and he looked through the window for a minute.
“That’s a lot of cash,” he said.
“Yes, it is kind of odd that he has that much money.”
I wondered if Caleb was thinking the same thing about himself. After all, I’d caught him with a bunch of money as well. I never carried more than fifty bucks around with me. I always took the money I earned for the paintings I sold and deposited it into the bank as soon as possible. I hoped the other vendors were doing that as well now.
“Who’s out there?” Max asked in a loud, booming voice.
Caleb grabbed my hand, and we ran around the side of the trailer. I heard the trailer door open and knew he was looking for someone. We stopped running, trying to catch our breath.
“Hold it right there,” a new male voice said.
I looked over my shoulder. This didn’t look good.
“Why are you running away?” Detective Pierce Meyer asked with a puzzled look on his face.
I wasn’t sure he’d believe anything I had to say.
“We were trying to get away from Max’s trailer,” I said.
“And why were you doing that?” he asked.
“Well, that’s a good story,” I said.
“I’m sure it is. Would you care to share it with me?”
Caleb didn’t look too thrilled about talking to the detective. But he had caught us acting strangely, so it wasn’t as if we had a choice.
“Well, I saw into his trailer and he had a bunch of cash. I think he’s the one taking the money.”
Why was I telling on Max, but not telling on Caleb? That didn’t seem quite fair. I had to tell the detective about Caleb too, right?
“And why did you happen to be looking into his trailer? Is this something you do often?”
“Well, no, absolutely not, other than that one time,” I said.
Pierce stared at me.
“I was just suspicious of him, so I felt like I needed to look.”
“You need to let us handle the investigation. It could be dangerous for you,” he said.
“I realize that, but it’s over with now, so I think you really should ask him about the money.”
“All right, we can look into that,” he said.
I was hoping he meant right now. Because maybe Max was planning on taking off with all that cash.
“Perhaps you all should go back on the other side of the crime tape.”
“Yeah, we can do that, can’t we, Caleb?” I said.
Caleb and I walked over and got back on the other side of the tape. Pierce went up to Max’s trailer and knocked on the door.
“What if Max has a gun?” I whispered.
“I think we should probably duck if that happens,” Caleb said.
“Well, yeah, of course, but I don’t want the detective to get shot trying to look into this,” I said.
“Things will be fine. Don’t worry.” Caleb touched my arm for reassurance.
We waited with bated breath for that door to open. Luckily, Max didn’t have a gun or any other weapon. As the detective talked to him, I wished we could hear what they were saying. The detective must be asking about the money. Max looked in our direction.
After a few seconds, he focused his attention back on the detective. The detective must have told him that we had told him about the money. Max would be angry now. After a few seconds, the detective turned around and headed back toward us. Max closed the door.
“Why did you tell him that we told you?” I asked.
He held up his hands. “Calm down. I didn’t mention you.”
“Why did he look at us?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t use your name at all. I told him that I saw him with money.”
“You did that?” I asked. “That was so nice. Thank you.”
Caleb glanced at me with a funny look.
“What was his excuse for having so much cash?” I asked.
“He said it’s his money and he hadn’t had a chance to go to the bank. We really have no reason to suspect him,” the detective said.
“Listen, I really should get going,” Caleb said. “Thanks for checking into that for me, Detective. I’ll see you later, Celeste, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll see you later.” I waved. It was strange he’d left so abruptly.
When Caleb was out of earshot, the detective said, “What was that all about?”
“I didn’t want to say anything, but I suppose I have to now. The other day, Caleb wanted to buy one of my paintings. He had a wad of cash. It was right after one of the episodes.”
“I wish you had told me that sooner,” he said.
“I just didn’t think Caleb was capable of anything like that. Though after telling you about Max, I figured I should mention it. Needless to say, it’s been bothering me. If you talk to him, don’t say the same thing you told Max. There’s no way he’d believe you.”
“I’ll think about what to do and take care of it, okay? I won’t tell him that you said anything.”
“I appreciate that, thank you.”
At least the crowd had dispersed now, and the police were headed away too.
“Can I walk you back to your trailer?” he asked.
“That would be great. I think Van is getting a little tired.”
“He’s had quite an eventful day, I’m sure.”
He only knew half of it. He didn’t know we’d been to a psychic before this. And he knew nothing about the ghost.
The detective and I walked up the path toward my trailer. I wasn’t sure I was happy that the police had left as I thought about being all alone in the trailer for the night. Would the criminal strike again?
“Do you think the thief is the same person who murdered Evan?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say for sure. But it’s definitely something we’re looking at,” he said.
“I wish I had a clue that linked them.”
“You’re really in to solving this, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Well, I found Evan and, in a way, I feel like it’s my responsibility to solve the case.”
“You know that’s not true,” Pierce said.
“Maybe so, but it would make me feel better.”
Would Elizabeth be standing by the trailer waiting for me? Apparently, the answer to that was yes. I spotted her right away when we walked up.
She popped up beside Pierce. “Tell him about me.”
I tried not to look at her, but she waved her arms.
“I know how you feel, Celeste. Every case I don’t solve feels as if I’ve let the victim and the victim’s family down. It comes with the job.”
Elizabeth reached out and ran her hand along his stubbled, sculpted jaw. Pierce scrunched his brow and looked in her direction.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
An icy-cold touch moved across my cheek.
“Maybe if you all would pay attention to me, I wouldn’t have to do that,” Elizabeth said.
I glared at her.
Pierce noticed my reaction and glanced to his left. Oops. Now he’d think I was crazy. Why was Elizabeth so insistent that I tell Pierce about her?
“I guess it was just the wind,” he said.
“Yes, probably.” I chuckled nervously as I peered up at the still tree branches.
Van wiggled in my arms. I opened the door and placed him inside the Shasta so he could play with his toys. I heard a squeak, indicating he was chewing on his favorite squeaky skunk toy. I closed the door and turned back to the detective.
“Celeste, I appreciate you’re trying to help, but you know we’re trying to figure it out. We’ve had a lot of experience with this, not to mention years of training.”
He was basically saying I had no experience and shouldn’t even bother trying to figure it out. Maybe I’d show him a thing or two about being a detective. Since when did I let a thing like experience get in my way? “I’ll keep that in mind,”
I said.
“Oh, dear. That sounded a bit snippy, don’t you think?” Elizabeth asked. “You’ll get more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“I suppose I should let you get some rest,” Pierce said.
I hoped I hadn’t upset him.
“Thanks for walking me back,” I said. “It is spooky around here at night. Especially with a murder and someone stealing money.”
“Just make sure to lock your door. We have an officer patrolling the area,” Pierce said.
I raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yes, we do.” The corner of his mouth tipped up in a lopsided smile.
“I feel much safer knowing that. By the way, you should smile more often.” I pointed at his handsome face.
Even though the dark made it harder to see, I was pretty sure Pierce blushed. His sensual mouth twisted upward on one side. “Good night, Celeste.”
“Good night, Detective.” My stomach danced as I waved goodbye.
“Why didn’t you tell him about me?” Elizabeth waved her arm in a sweeping, dramatic gesture.
“Telling someone you’ve seen a ghost isn’t exactly a casual topic to bring up,” I said. “Besides, why did you want him to know so badly?”
Elizabeth followed me into the trailer, where I knew she’d want to continue this conversation.
Elizabeth frowned. “I’m not sure. Something was just telling me that he should know.”
“I’ll think about telling him, okay?” I pulled down the quilt on the bed.
“It’s urgent that you tell him,” she said as she leaned against the counter.
“Perhaps you should just show yourself to the detective,” I said.
“I don’t think it’s that easy,” she said around a sigh.
CHAPTER 23
Travel trailer tip 23: Making a checklist might help. Just don’t misplace the list.
Van and I settled into the trailer for the night. If I wanted to read, I usually cozied up in bed, which was exactly what I did tonight. I loved to read about the lives of famous painters, and I was eager to get back to the biography of Van Gogh I had started.
Elizabeth had disappeared. Apparently, she was mad at me. Even though everything was quiet, and I should have been relaxed, my mind wasn’t at ease. I kept reading the same paragraph over and over. A heaviness came over the air. I knew what that meant. Within a few seconds, Elizabeth appeared near my kitchenette.
I set down my book. “Where have you been?”
“Just waiting for things to settle down around here so I can talk to you.” She glided across the floor. It didn’t take long for her to get from one side to the other. I sensed she was still upset. Van watched Elizabeth move back and forth across the trailer too.
“Things have been chaotic around here today,” I said.
“I think things have been chaotic since the start of the craft fair.” Elizabeth peeked out the window.
“You’re right about that.”
Van barked in agreement.
“Well, I’ve been thinking,” Elizabeth added, fidgeting with her hands as she moved around the trailer.
“Yes?” I asked.
Van’s oversize ears perked up as he waited for her answer.
“I know what might help solve this crime,” Elizabeth said.
This was a surprise. Now she had piqued my curiosity. “What?” I asked.
“You need to paint,” she said, waving her hand toward my art supplies.
Van barked, as if in complete agreement with her.
“But how will that help me solve the crime?” I asked.
“If you can paint me to life, who knows what or who else you can paint? You should give it a try and see if any clues come forward,” she said. “Just think about what happened here and see what comes to you.”
“What if I paint someone to life that I really shouldn’t? It could be something bad,” I said.
“If you worry too much about the what-ifs in life, you’ll never do anything,” Elizabeth said.
Van tugged on the hem of Elizabeth’s floor-length ivory dress with the lace firmly latched in his jaws.
“Van, let go,” I said.
Elizabeth reached down to pet Van. Surprisingly, her hand didn’t move right through him. He rolled over onto his back for a belly rub.
As she rubbed him, she said, “Well, it certainly can’t hurt to try.”
“Actually, it possibly could hurt. Like I said, what if I paint something that’s bad or scary? What if it brings even more danger? I could bring something evil here.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Please reference what I said just a minute ago.”
I thought it over. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should give it a try.”
“If you get a bad feeling, you can stop. After all, I’m here and I’m not bad or evil. Just paint whatever feels right,” she said.
“Yes, I guess that would work. I have to do something, right?”
“Absolutely.” She clapped her hands. “You should paint right away.”
It was kind of late to start a new project tonight, and I was tired. But I was curious at the same time. Plus, I’d painted late into the night before. I retrieved a blank canvas from my stash over in the corner of the trailer. After setting up the easel, I placed the canvas on and spread out my paints. It was a tight fit in this little space, but it was enough.
Sitting in front of the canvas, I studied it, thinking about everything that had happened lately. I hoped something would pop into my head.
It didn’t take long before it came to me. I picked up my brush and dipped it into the green paint. Pressing my brush onto the canvas, I made a long sweep across the white board. I dipped the brush in for more paint and made more strokes. Soon, an image started to appear. I studied the canvas. It was a pine tree. Just a single pine tree on one side of the canvas. But that wasn’t all that was in my head. I continued swiping the brush across the blank area, using more colors now.
“It’s almost hypnotizing to watch you paint,” Elizabeth said from over my shoulder.
I wasn’t used to having an audience, so I tried to pretend she wasn’t there. The canvas was becoming full with lots of pine and oak trees. Water streamed behind them. It kind of looked like the area surrounding my family’s house, with the same tall pines and small creek behind it. What did this have to do with the murder? Was I painting this from memory, or seeing the surroundings of my home in a vision? The painting was beautiful, but it really wasn’t anything special.
I had painted Elizabeth, so why couldn’t I render an image of who had committed the crime? Something like that had to be possible, I reminded myself. The more I tried, the more frustrated I became. I was losing my confidence now, and that was probably showing through in the strokes on the canvas.
“It’s a lovely painting,” Elizabeth said, watching over my shoulder. “How will you know when you’re finished?”
“Good question. I suppose when the painting is finished.”
“How do you know when that happens?” Elizabeth asked.
“I always do,” I said, studying what I’d done so far.
“I’m so impressed with your talent,” she said.
I smiled. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”
Her compliment made me feel a bit better. Before I even realized what I’d done, I had black paint on the tip of my brush, and by the time I had finished, there was a silhouette of a man on the canvas. I gasped in surprise.
“Oh my goodness, it’s a man,” Elizabeth said.
“What do you think this means?” I asked, looking back at her.
“Could we be looking at the murderer?”
The man’s tall height was pronounced on the canvas. Did that mean it was Caleb, Pierce, or Max? They all seemed about the same height. If so, two of the three were already suspects to me, so that didn’t narrow it down much. The black paint stood out on the canvas. It seemed as if a shade had been cast across the man’s face on purpose, keeping me from
capturing his features.
I studied the image, hoping that something else would pop out at me, offering a clue to the man’s identity. Pine trees surrounded the craft fair too. Maybe I wasn’t trying to paint the area around my house but instead the crime scene here at the craft fair. The man in the silhouette had to be the murderer. Was there a creek nearby and did that hold a clue?
“Maybe that isn’t all there is to the painting. Maybe there’s more you have to do,” Elizabeth said.
I yawned and stretched my arms. “Perhaps, but I think for tonight that is enough. I’m just going to clean up here and sleep. Maybe that will give me time to reenergize. I can try again in the morning.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Elizabeth said. “So good night, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before I had a chance to say good night or ask where she was going, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. She just disappeared. I wasn’t sure how she did it, but there were a lot of things lately I didn’t understand. Van barked, as if he was just as stunned as I was.
After cleaning up my brushes, I crawled under the covers. Van curled up against me.
“What would I do without you, my little snuggle buddy?” I asked.
After licking my face, he settled down to sleep. I hoped we both had sweet dreams tonight.
CHAPTER 24
Travel trailer tip 24: Always lock your door. Check it. Then check it again.
The sun peeked through the slats in the little blinds on the window of my trailer. Morning had arrived and, surprisingly, excitement filled me just thinking about finding out if more ideas for the painting came to me.
After getting up, I went through the routine of giving Van water and food. I had breakfast while reading another chapter of my book. Because cooking was difficult in the trailer, I kept it simple and had a bowl of cereal with a banana.
Van followed me as I moved over to the canvas. I hoped that something would come to me after a night’s rest. Elizabeth hadn’t shown up yet. I thought I’d see her first thing this morning because she would want to know if I was adding to the painting. Was she busy doing something else? Like what?
After collecting my brushes, I sat down in front of the easel. Brush in hand, I stared at the canvas, but my mind was blank. This was doing no good. I needed to move on to something else.
