The Cathville Haunting (Jack Raven Ghost Mystery Book 2)

by Robin G. Austin

  There’s no point in trying to sneak up on Silas. I’m sure he’ll detect us long before I find him and will be watching us soon– if he isn’t already

  After what I’m guessing is forty minutes of walking, I start sensing I’m not alone. I’d know exactly how long I’ve walked if I could check my phone but if I’m lucky, and I’m probably not, I only have enough juice for a final 911 call.

  When I get to a clearing, I stop and get comfortable with my back pressed to a tree. I light my smudge stick and sprinkle rock salt in front of me. With eyes closed, I ask for protection and a vision. A pot of Levi stew flashes before me and I shake my head.

  “Silas Turley,” I whisper.

  My mind gets quiet and the woods come hypnotically alive. I’m nearly in trance when Mojo growls. When I open my eyes, the smudge stick is gone and something is burning. I’m panicking trying to find what’s on fire. I turn in circles and kick leaves on the ground. There’s nothing burning at all, and now the smell is gone.

  “Was he here?” I ask Mojo.

  “Hey, Silas. Stop playing games. My name’s Jack Raven. I need to talk to you. I don’t mean to bother you or trespass on your land, but if you’re going to watch me, I’d appreciate it if you’d talk to me too. I’m here about Morowa—

  A bird screams behind me, so close I duck without thinking just before a bunch more take flight. I know he’s here or someone is.

  “I doubt it’s your style, but if you’re the one who made me the poppet, thank you. Burlap is my favorite. Sorry though, I’m not leaving. Not until I do my job here. Nothing personal. I’m as eager to go home as you are to have me leave. If you could help me out with the fog that scared off the workers, I’ll not only be gone, I swear I won’t ever be back.”

  The woods are quiet again. I’m about to sit down on a log to see if the man will come out from behind a tree when a gunshot blasts by me. I can smell the gun powder as I dive for cover.

  “Okay, I’m leaving,” I yell. “You don’t have to ask twice. Don’t shoot me in the back.” I take off running with the wolfdog a few feet in front of me.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  §

  We don’t stop running until we’re over the hill and back on the supermall property. I’m out of breath and my legs are shaking. All the while I’m wobbling back towards the trailer, I’m praying the first thing I see is the jeep.

  I don’t know if Silas took a shot in my direction or someone else did. It could have been anyone out hunting for squirrels or rabbits. It could be that Silas is cooking up white lightning instead of black magic back in those woods and has another reason to not like visitors.

  In another twenty minutes, it will be dark. My phone is officially dead as I check one last time for Levi’s call. I get a sharp pain in my head and my knees go weak: not good signs. “Please be here, Levi,” I whisper.

  Before I get to the trailer, I think I hear a vehicle at the road. I pray it’s Levi and fear it isn’t. I don’t know whether to go out and see who it is or hide. I choose somewhere in between and slink back into the brush to make my way to the road.

  It’s an unmarked police car and a tall, muscleman is getting out and looking in all directions. When he heads my way, I hurry back towards the trailer and call out, “Lieutenant Holt?”

  As soon as he sees me, his eyes pinch and he spits a clump of tobacco in front of him. “You the one who called the police?”

  “Yep, I’m Jack Raven.” I walk towards him with a panting wolfdog behind me. He reaches for his gun and with a raspy throat, I tell him it’s just a dog. He doesn’t look like he believes me. “Thanks for coming out. The cow and calf turn out okay?”

  Holt spits another wad of chew and says yep like it’s none of my business.

  “Trailer’s back this way,” I say.

  “You out here all by yourself?”

  I start to answer when I see a smirk on his face, still I tell him about my walk over the hill and the gunshot. None of my troubles seem to concern the man. He’s much more interested in knowing how much longer I plan on being on the property. Seems my case is one he wants to close as soon as possible.

  “I hung it in the tree. It was on the door handle,” I say, when we reach the trailer– the trailer with no jeep parked in front of it. I leave Holt to inspect the poppet while Mojo and me devour a gallon of bottled water, and I stare at my note that’s still waiting for Levi.

  When I step outside, Holt’s got the plastic bag with the poppet and is looking ready to leave.

  “You shouldn’t have touched it,” he says. “Probably contaminated any prints we could have used. I’ll get back to you if the lab finds anything.”

  “Wait. My friend, Levi Cardona, had a meeting with Roland Price earlier today. I’ve been trying to reach him, but his phone just goes to voicemail. He’s got my vehicle, and he should have been back here hours ago.”

  “Do you want to file a theft or a missing person’s report?”

  “I’d like you to drive me to Roland Price’s house so I can talk to the man. I have a feeling that something bad has happened to Levi.”

  Holt is grimacing. I’m getting an unpleasant read on his thoughts: slow, methodical, and hostile. Despite his burly frame, he favors his right side and moves with practiced caution. An old football injury would be my first guess, a barroom brawl my second.

  He spits again and draws a hand across his face, pressing the palm hard against the skin and tightening his jaw. “I’m not a taxi service.” Holt exaggerates his Southern accent while looking past me. “I can take a report from you and follow up on it. Man’s of legal age. If he took off, that’s his business.” With these last words, he glares at me with a wicked smile.

  I don’t need to read his aura to know he’s not a fan of mine, or that he thinks I’m wasting his time. Since I don’t think he’s met Levi, how he’s sure about the man’s age is a puzzle. “It’s not his business when he’s got my vehicle.”

  Holt cocks his head, sizing me up. The tobacco in his cheek wavers. “You let him take it?”

  “Temporarily. That time period has passed. Listen, the battery on my phone is dead. I’m stuck out here without a vehicle, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that something’s happened to my friend. If you won’t help me just say so, and I’ll start walking back to town to find someone who will.”

  Holt spits another wad, closer to me this time. He looks around, pausing on the hill behind me. “I’ll give you a lift back to town, but I can’t drive you all over looking for your boyfriend. You two aren’t doing the smartest thing being out here in the first place.” He holds up the poppet and waves it at me. “Folks don’t leave things like this as a joke.”

  “Well, it’s good to know you don’t think Cathville’s a safe town, or maybe it’s just not safe for strangers. Oh wait, Kylee Price was a local woman. I guess Cathville’s criminals aren’t choosey, especially when it comes to the female population.”

  Great Spirit, shut me up. Holt’s glaring and I don’t blame him, but I don’t care either. Levi would never be gone this long or leave me wondering where he is.

  The lieutenant is looking around again, eyes trailing and pausing at the hill and moving slowly to the police tape. Then he turns and walks away. A good fifteen feet from me, he yells, “If you want a ride into town, hurry up or I’m leaving without you.”

  I grab my bag and my hand shakes as I lock the trailer, which only serves to make me madder. Holt’s got the engine running. He tells me not to bring the animal. I ignore him and he doesn’t ask again after Mojo sits in the backseat behind him.

  There’s no way I can get myself to pacify this jerk’s disposition. Could be he’s unfriendly to everyone, but that doesn’t change my mind. He’s got a bone to pick with me and for some reason, I think it’s my business to know why.

  “Do you know Roland Price, Lieutenant?”

  He’s watching me in the rearview mirror, chewing on a fresh wad. “I do.”

  “Would you
say he’s a dangerous man? One that I shouldn’t pay a visit to late at night, alone?”

  This time he’s silent and if not for Mojo, I think he’d take a detour to the back of the woods.

  “Has he ever been arrested? Served time in jail or prison?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Who might? Because I want to know what I’m getting myself into tonight, and I want someone on the Cathville police force to advise me on the matter.”

  Holt gives me the evil eye in the mirror and lets out a long, rough breath. He pulls out his phone and pushes one button. All I can make out from his mumbling is Levi, got it, and sissy. The call’s too short and good old boy to be official.

  “Your boyfriend left Roland Price’s place around two o’clock. Said he was going out to interview some folks he met at the Waffle Griddle. You have any idea who those folks are?”

  “No, why? You think you have them on speed dial too?”

  Holt’s nice deep Arkansas complexion is looking a bit rusty. He’s one more comment out of my mouth from pulling his car over. Mojo is still sitting tall behind him. He’s leaned in a few times now to sniff the back of Holt’s head through the mesh cage. We’re a couple of bratty teenagers toying with the man.

  We ride in silence the rest of the way. Holt turns onto the main street. He’s driving with one hand on the bottom of the steering wheel and going too slow. If his purpose in doing the latter is to give Roland time to cover his tracks, I’m going to do my best to make that a bad idea.

  “You can drop me at the Waffle Griddle,” I say. “I’m going to find some folks who are willing to do what you seem too spiteful to do. But I figure you have good reason to be acting the way you are. Big men and small town secrets are like road kill and sewer water. Both have no value except to buzzards and roaches.”

  I’m out of the car and as soon as Mojo is out, I lean in and say, “Now make yourself useful and call your buddy Roland Price back. Tell him to expect my visit before this night is over.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  §

  Maybelle’s always warning me about my attitude. She likes to tell me the war is over and we won so I need to calm down about things; something she never considers doing herself.

  Holt stays at the curb in front of the Waffle Griddle. I’m tying Mojo to a fence post and feeling nervous about leaving him alone. I tell him to watch the crooked cop then turn around to see Holt on his phone. I cross my arms and stare him down. He finishes his call, looks up and shakes his head then pulls onto the road a little too carelessly. Maybelle’s right about my attitude, she’s wrong about some wars.

  The Waffle Griddle is as noisy as usual and as friendly too. I’m safe again. I’m where deep fried eaters unite for the good of all concerned.

  Kindred souls aside, I’m here to find someone with an iPhone charger, and I’m not afraid to put that someone on my expense account. Lucky for me, it’s the supper hour and the place is packed. I’m worked up enough to shout out an offer, but my favorite waitress has already spotted me and she has a plate of pickles headed my way.

  I sit at the counter and tell her my problem. She pats my hand, and I drown my worries in grease while she goes around the tables doing my bidding. In less than three minutes, I have a charger to use without a nickel exchanged, and a slice of possum pie at the regular price. Who needs a spiteful cop when you have your tribe at the Waffle Griddle?

  Once my phone is charged and I get Levi’s voicemail again, I call Emma Weaver’s Emergency Only number that’s in fine print on her business card. Before I can get a word out, she’s making my attitude seem cordial.

  “Don’t you know how to answer a phone?”

  “I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question. I—

  “I’ve been calling you for the past two hours.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m at Cathville General Hospital with your boyfriend. You need to get down here a-sap.”

  All Emma said before disconnecting was that Levi would live. This time I don’t wait for the waitress. I stand up and offer anyone who’ll drive me to the hospital fifty bucks. I get six offers.

  I’m biting back tears as we stop in front of the hospital in my ride’s big wheel monster truck. I hand the driver two twenties and a ten. He takes one of the twenties and wishes me good luck. I need that luck just to jump from the passenger seat to the pavement.

  Emma’s pacing in the front lobby. When she sees me, she powerhouses my way. All I can think as I watch her is that she’s someone who could eat Holt for breakfast.

  She tells me she was out meeting with a new client and drove by what looked like my jeep, which was tipped over in a ditch on the side of the road. She thought about driving by but had some extra time. Holt wouldn’t even make a good appetizer for this woman.

  “Levi was in the passenger seat, passed out.” She jets out her jaw and squeezes her eyes, I guess waiting for an explanation. When she doesn’t get one, she goes on. “I thought he was dead, but it turns out he was just drugged up. They had to pump his stomach. Like I said, he’ll live.”

  My mind is blank while going in a million directions. “Levi’s never done drugs a day in his life,” I say, mostly to myself.

  Emma says she stuck around the hospital because she figured it was something screwy. She suspected he’d be needing a lawyer after he came to. The woman managed to get him out of the jeep and into her truck. Considering Levi’s size and build, this was an amazing feat– one that should be respected and seriously feared.

  I know I come off cold when I ask about the jeep before commenting on Levi, but overall I’ve had a bad day and she did say he’s going to live.

  Now that I’m here, Emma’s more than ready to head home. She isn’t going yet because the police– Holt’s comrades– are still wanting to talk to Levi and she doesn’t plan on letting that happen. Not tonight anyway.

  “This direction,” she says, barnstorming down the hall to Levi’s room. “He’s in and out of consciousness.”

  The man’s got his eyes closed when we walk in. He does resemble the dead. A nurse is taking his pulse and fiddling with his drip bag. She refuses to discuss his condition with me, but tells Emma– because no one sane would say no to her– that he’s lucky the hillbilly homebrew didn’t stop his heart or give him cause for a liver transplant.

  I ask just how much he drank and Emma raises her big, thick hand.

  “My client said the last thing he remembers is being given some syrupy ice tea at Roland Price’s place.”

  The nurse’s eyes get buggy and she tells Emma, in an ironically sober tone, that she’ll let the doctor know then hurries out the door. I’m not sure why the doctor needs to know about Roland or his ice tea, but Emma isn’t done defending her client so I have no time to ponder the matter.

  “Levi doesn’t remember driving, and all evidence indicates he wasn’t the person who drove the vehicle into the ditch. My client was found by me, passed out in the passenger seat of the vehicle with his seat belt on. The doctors will testify that he was in no condition to put that seat belt on, let alone drive that vehicle.”

  “How is that vehicle, by the way?” I ask again, and get a knife-stabbing glare.

  “Going to need a tow truck,” she says, and walks out of the room.

  An hour later, the police leave without their statement. Emma was gone for a few minutes and is now sticking close in order to monitor my visit with Levi. Her bulldog attitude is making me more rattled than I already am. Levi is sleeping peacefully or he’s slipped into a coma. Either way, what I think is that he’s pretending because I’m sure he’s cracked an eyelid a time or two.

  I’ve called a tow truck and leave Levi with Emma to meet the driver in the parking lot. I fork out more money and ask the driver if the police okayed him moving the vehicle.

  “Didn’t ask,” he says.

  Thankfully, the six inches of mud coating the jeep appears to have prevented any major body damage. I check
that the engine starts and resist all efforts to drive away. Mojo’s in the backseat and he pokes me in the head. “Fine,” I say, and head back inside.

  “Don’t start on me, Jack,” Levi says, the minute I walk into his room.

  “Just tell me the truth and I’ll believe you, Levi. Did Roland Price do this to you, or did you do it to yourself?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Emma says.

  “Answer that,” I say, and hear her hiss.

  “I swear, Jack, I did not sit around drinking with the man. He gave me a tall glass of some battery acid ice tea and I drank it. He gave me another one, and I guess I drank that one too but don’t know how. I just remember things were spinning. The next thing I know, I’m waking up here.”

  “Sounds like the man tried to kill you,” I say. “Kind of strange behavior for the husband of a murder victim.”

  “PI business is dangerous. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this assignment.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. The man could get a part on a soap opera.

  “Attempted murder is going to be hard to prove,” Emma says. She’s pacing now and appears to be talking to herself. “Roland will claim Levi took the drinks willingly, seeing as he did. No proof he’s guilty of anything other than serving a couple of drinks.”

  “Have the police talked to Roland yet?” I ask.

  Emma holds up her hand again as the doctor walks in the door. After Levi identifies me as his fiancé, the doctor tells Levi that his latest lab tests are normal now and warns him not to drink any alcohol for at least forty-eight hours.

  He’s release to my care with some information on alcoholism and the twelve step program, complete with the Lord’s Prayer. I think that last one is a good idea seeing as he’s being turned over to someone who isn’t feeling all that rational.

  Levi agrees to be at Emma’s office tomorrow at eleven to give his statement to the police. I follow her into the hallway as she goes to leave.

  “So have the police talked to Roland Price?”