It didn't give Stephen time to wipe the red lipstick smears off his mouth, but I declined to mention that. They made a cute couple. No need to discourage them, I decided.
"Any luck?" Ashara asked. She seemed a lot more composed than Stephen, who was blushing a little.
"Nope," I said, ignoring Stephen's discomfort. "If the money's in Jeffrey McClatchey’s house, I sure can't find it. And I can't get out to Howard's without Maw-Maw with me."
"Okay, then," said Stephen, finally composing himself enough to speak. "Let's go."
Maw-Maw, of course, was thrilled to be back in on the action.
“Just let me get my purse and my cane, honey,” she said to me, turning off the television with the remote control and heaving herself up out of her chair.
We all piled into Stephen’s car. Stephen and I agreed that we needed to keep Ashara’s car completely away from anything having to do with Howard, but Ashara insisted on going with us.
“I am not about to let you go dragging my grandmother off without me,” she said.
“And you want to be in on it if we find the cash,” I said.
“That, too,” she agreed.
We followed the same plan as before--they parked off the side of the highway in a spot where they could see the old Howard place road but out of the immediate line of sight of anyone coming down the road and turning onto the highway. They were supposed to wait for me there. That was the plan.
It was a good plan.
It would have worked, too. If only they had stuck to it.
* * * *
Howard, of course, was home when I got to his place. So even if I find the cash, I thought, it's going to be harder for Ashara and Stephen to get in to grab some of it. This was turning out to be a much more frustrating task than I had anticipated.
But he couldn’t see me, so I had free reign to search the place.
He was lying on the couch watching television. Not the old television. I’d apparently destroyed that one. But he’d apparently spent some of his new pile of cash on a new one.
And he wasn’t watching Law and Order, the show that Maw-Maw had been watching when we’d picked her up that afternoon, but one of those trashy small-claims courtroom reality shows. You know, the kind where some guy’s pissed off because his roommate moved out without paying the last month’s rent, so he pawned the roommate’s television to make up for it? Yeah. That kind of show.
Maw-Maw has much better taste in television, I thought. No big surprise there.
The money wasn’t under the couch. It wasn’t in the toilet tank (and if you think it’s not weird to stick your head inside a toilet tank--even if you’re a ghost and can’t get wet--then you’re wrong. It’s totally weird). It wasn’t in any of the places that it hadn’t been in McClatchey’s house.
I had been in the house for almost an hour searching when I finally realized that the most likely place for the money was that rolltop desk. The one I hadn’t been able to see in before.
I cursed again.
I know, I know. How can I possibly see inside a toilet tank and not inside the desk? I have no idea. I just can’t. Maybe it’s an evil desk and I’m a good spirit and therefore can’t see in it. Of course, that would mean that the toilet was a good toilet. So that’s probably not it. The best theory I’ve got is that the wood of that desk is so dark and heavy that it doesn’t let any light in at all. And apparently, I’ve got to have at least some light to see by.
Still, I tried. I poked my head inside it once again, just in case.
Nothing but blackness.
So there I was, standing in the middle of the living room, glaring at the rolltop desk, listening to Judge Judy--or someone like her--handing out criticism and judgments, when I heard a knock at the door.
It was Stephen. I looked out the window and saw him standing there, plain as day. Howard looked up suspiciously at the closed door, but made no move to get up off the couch and open it.
“What the hell?” I muttered. Stephen saw me through the window and waggled his eyebrows at me. I waved my hands at him wildly in what I was pretty sure was a “No! Howard’s here! Go away!” kind of motion. As a matter of fact, I actually started yelling those exact words, so I’m certain he got the message.
He knocked on the door again, this time harder.
With a grumble, Howard sat up, scratching his chest through his wife-beater t-shirt. He yawned, stood up, and opened the door, staring blankly at Stephen through the screen door.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Hi,” said Stephen, in his brightest I’m-not-a-threat kind of voice. “Listen, man, I got a flat down the road--on the highway, actually--and I was wondering if you had a jack I could borrow. I can’t figure out where mine’s got to.”
“Stephen,” I said quickly. “I think the money’s in this rolltop desk here, but I can’t see into it.”
Stephen didn’t acknowledge my words with even a flicker of an eye. He just kept looking at Howard expectantly.
Howard stared back at him, still suspicious. “The highway? That’s almost three miles down the road. Why’d you walk all the way up here?”
“You’re the first one who’s answered the door.” Stephen shook his head and gestured back behind him at the dirt road. “Maybe they’re at work or something. Or not willing to open the door to a stranger. I’m just glad someone was home finally.”
Howard nodded after another slow moment. “Yeah. Okay. Sure, man. I got a jack in my truck.” He flipped the latch on the screen door and went out onto the porch.
They walked over to the SUV and I trailed along behind them. “We can come back later and get the cash,” I said to Stephen. “We’ll just have to make sure he’s not home when we do.”
It was a good plan. I know it was.
Howard opened the back door of the SUV and started rummaging.
“Dude,” said Stephen. “Can I grab a drink of water? I’ve been walking a while now.”
“Sure,” said Howard distractedly, still searching for the jack. “Kitchen’s in the back. Help yourself.”
What? I thought. He calls Ashara names for asking directions but sends Stephen into his house without going with him? What a pig.
Stephen stepped into the house casually, and then walked over to the roll top desk. I followed him.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “We need to wait until he’s gone. You can’t do this now.” My voice went up several notches with every sentence.
Stephen still didn’t answer. He just slid the top of the desk open.
“I knew it,” I said. I’d been right. There it was. The briefcase, and lucky for us, it wasn’t even locked--it popped open at a touch. Stephen reached in and grabbed a five-hundred dollar bill, shoved it into his pocket, then closed the case rolled the desktop back down.
I couldn’t believe it had been that easy.
“I found it.” Howard’s voice came from the front porch. He was heading into the house.
“You don’t have water, Stephen!” I was practically screeching at this point.
“Great,” Stephen said, stepping away from the desk and into the middle of the room.
“You find the kitchen okay?” Howard asked as he walked in. He looked suspicious again, but he handed the jack to Stephen.
“Sure did. Thanks, man. And thanks for the jack. I’ll get it back to you in a few minutes.” Stephen sounded perfectly calm and controlled.
I had to admit that I was impressed. To myself. Not out loud to Stephen.
“Let me give you a ride down to your car,” Howard said, watching Stephen carefully.
This did get just the tiniest flicker of a nervous response from Stephen. His eyes twitched toward me and widened just the slightest bit.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I’ll just walk back. No big deal.”
But Howard had caught the same response I had. “I insist,” he said. His voice was still friendly enough, but his eyes had gone hard and cold. He dropped a beefy hand onto Step
hen’s shoulder and squeezed. “I insist.”
Stephen might have had the stones to come waltzing into the guy’s house and steal a five-hundred dollar bill, but he was still a slight man. Taller than Ashara, but not a big guy. Howard outweighed him by at least fifty pounds of muscle.
“Sure,” Stephen said, wincing only slightly. “No problem.”
“Good.” Howard moved toward the SUV.
“Oh, God,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I had figured out how to move quickly, but I hadn’t until that afternoon figured out just how swift I could be.
I’m pretty fast for a dead chick, as it turned out.
I made it back to the car in ten seconds flat. Too bad they don’t have a “Dead Chick Flying” event in the Olympics. I’d win hands down.
Ashara was sitting in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio. Maw-Maw was snoozing in the passenger seat, snoring gently.
I came flying in through the back windshield and landed on the back seat, talking almost as quickly as I had moved to get there.
“Get out!” I yelled. “You’ve got to get out. Howard’s on his way here with Stephen. Hide!”
Maw-Maw jerked awake. I’ve got to hand it to her--she is one quick old woman. “Come help me out of this seat, Ashara. Now.”
Ashara was still trying to take it all in.
“Now!” Maw-Maw and I yelled at the same time.
Ashara threw the door open and ran around to the other side of the car. Maw-Maw already had the door open and was scooting her legs out onto the dirt beside the car.
Ashara helped her out, and they moved into the underbrush.
“Maw-Maw,” said Ashara, “you can’t hide in all this.”
“Don’t you back-talk me, young lady. You help me sit down under this here bush.”
“Oh, my God,” Ashara muttered. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Hurry,” I said. “Hurry!”
Ashara got Maw-Maw settled out of sight. She started to sit down beside her.
“Wait!” I said. “The tire! You’ve got to flatten one of the tires. Oh, God. Move it!”
Ashara stared at me blankly for just a second, and then jumped up.
“What has that idiot boy done?” she demanded.
“The glove box,” I said. “Maybe there will be something in the glove box.”
There was. A screwdriver.
“Great,” I said. “Jam it into one of the tires.”
It took her two tries, but Ashara did it. The air came whooshing out of the tire. I could see the car sinking as the tire flattened.
“Great. Now shut the doors and hide.”
Ashara got into her hiding place next to Maw-Maw mere seconds before Howard drove up in his SUV, Stephen in the passenger seat beside him. I could see Stephen scanning the car. A look of relief and then slight horror crossed his face as he saw the flattened driver’s side tire.
But Clifford Howard’s face went from suspicious to relaxed, so I decided it had been worth it.
I could see Stephen surreptitiously searching for Maw-Maw and Ashara as he got out of the car.
“Don’t worry,” I said, moving up behind him. “They’re hidden.” He jumped a little at the sound of my voice, but didn’t turn around to look at me.
“I’ll help you change this,” Howard said. He was in full friendly good-ole-boy mode now.
“I’d sure appreciate that,” Stephen said, matching his tone. “Why don’t you get the jack set while I dig out the spare?”
Howard nodded and settled down to crawl under the car. Stephen popped open the trunk. There, plain as day was a jack.
“Good thing he didn’t look in here,” I said. Stephen just nodded and pulled out the tire iron and a spare.
“Jack’s ready,” Howard said.
They changed the tire in mere minutes. I was impressed. I’d had to change a tire myself once when I was alive. It was a pain in the ass. It had taken me almost half an hour.
Stephen hurried to toss the ruined tire into the trunk over his own jack before Howard could see inside.
“Thanks, dude,” he said, holding out his now-greasy hand to shake Howard’s.
“No problem,” Howard said. “You know, it looks like somebody did that tire on purpose.”
Stephen made a face. “Ex-girlfriend. She’s pissed off ’cause I’m seeing someone else.”
“Bitch,” Howard said.
“Mmm,” Stephen agreed, “you’re not kidding.”
“Okay, then,” said Howard. “Looks like you’re all set.” He made no move to get into his SUV.
Stephen hesitated, and then decided to roll with it. “Thanks again, man,” he said, climbing into the driver’s side and turning over the engine. “See you around.”
I slid through the passenger door and onto the seat next to him.
Stephen waved as we pulled onto the highway and headed toward town.
“We’re going to have to go back for Ashara and Maw-Maw, you know.”
“I know. But we need to wait until Howard leaves. I think he’s still a little suspicious.”
“I’ll meet you at the city limits sign,” I said as we started to pass it.
Stephen had just enough time to say “What?” before I felt that rubber-band feeling in my gut. Then pop! There I was, standing in the middle of a tree trunk next to Maw-Maw.
“Ugh,” I said, stepping out of the tree. “That’s creepy.”
“You think it’s creepy for you,” Ashara said, “you should have seen how you looked with just your face and boobs sticking out of the tree.”
I shuddered. “Don’t tell me these things. Howard gone?” I asked.
“Yep,” said Maw-Maw. “Got in his car and drove back down the road. We was just sitting here waiting on y’all.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let me check to make sure Howard went home, then I’ll go get Stephen to come back.”
Howard was back on his couch.
Stephen was waiting at the city limits sign, a confused look on his face.
And Maw-Maw and Ashara were glad to get out of the scratchy underbrush and back into Stephen’s car.
* * * *
“But it still doesn’t explain the connection to the McClatcheys,” I said. We were back at Maw-Maw’s house; all sitting around the living room staring at the bill Stephen had pulled out of his pocket and put on the coffee table. “Even if we can prove it came from the bank robbery in the forties, it doesn’t tell us why Howard killed Molly.”
We all stared at the bill some more.
“And anyway,” I said, “it’s not like the police can use it to prove anything. We got it illegally. We didn’t have a search warrant or anything.”
“That’s not true, missy,” Maw-Maw said. “Ain’t you never watched Law and Order? Or CSI?”
“Yes,” I said defensively. “That’s how I know you need a warrant to get evidence.”
Maw-Maw shook her head sadly. “Honey, you just ain’t paid enough attention. Only the police need a warrant. Private citizen can go on in and take anything. It’s stealing, but it can be used as evidence in a court of law.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well,” I said. “Clearly I haven’t watched enough of those shows.”
“Clearly,” said Maw-Maw, leaning back and putting her hands over her stomach.
“That still doesn’t help us figure out how to match this bill up with the McClatcheys, other than them having access to the safe deposit box,” Ashara said glumly.
“I have an idea,” Stephen said. “Why don’t I just go back over to Birmingham and ask Rick? He’ll probably know what his connection to those two families is.”
Ashara and I stood staring at him, our mouths hanging open. Then we looked at each other.
“Do you feel stupid?” I asked her.
“Totally. You?”
“Oh. Beyond words.”
We turned back to Stephen. “Yes, please,” I
said. “Go and ask the one person who might actually know.” I shook my head.
“I say that we claim we’re still getting used to this detective business,” Ashara said to me in a staged aside.
“And hey, I’m still getting over the shock of my untimely death,” I said.
Maw-Maw just laughed. “That’s one smart white boy you got, Ashara.”
Ashara ignored her.
Stephen laughed at us all. “I won’t be able to go until tomorrow,” he said to Ashara. “I’ve got to go get a new tire first.” He gave her a mock-severe look, and then smiled. “But I’ll give you a call as soon as I’ve finished talking to Rick.”
We spent a few more minutes discussing the next day’s agenda. I had a hard time deciding whether to stay with Ashara and Maw-Maw or go with Stephen. If I’d wanted to go, we would have had to take Maw-Maw. And if Maw-Maw had gone, Ashara would have, too. Stephen suggested that perhaps one visit from Maw-Maw was plenty for Rick McClatchey. We decided to let Stephen fly solo.
We would have done better to go with him.
Ashara walked Stephen to the door. Then they stepped outside to say goodnight. Maw-Maw and I looked at each other meaningfully. Maw-Maw cackled. And I have to admit that I joined in a little. They were just so cute, acting like teenagers who didn’t want anyone to know they were an item.
And hey. I was glad that at least someone was getting some action.
Chapter Seventeen
When I drifted back to myself the next morning, Ashara was already up and dressed. She and Maw-Maw were drinking coffee in the living room and having a serious discussion about something.
“What’s up?” I asked as I entered the room.
“Little Miss here thinks she’s going to go into work today,” Maw-Maw said.
“I don’t just think it,” Ashara said, more calmly than I would have expected. “It’s the truth.”
“You can’t,” I said. “Howard’s out to get you.”
“I can’t keep calling in sick, either,” she said. “I have a mortgage to pay. And some credit card bills. And a serious need to buy food sometimes.”
Waking Up Dead Page 13
