A Brady Paranormal Investigations Box Set

by Harper Crowley

  He scowls. “Not okay.” He pulls his gun out of the back of his jeans. “You stay behind me at all times. If I say run, you need to get the hell out of there, okay?”

  He waits for me to nod, and eventually I do, even though I have my fingers firmly crossed behind my back. Yeah, I’m mature like that. If Beau or Annette are in danger, then I sure as hell am not going to stand aside and let either of them get injured. Sorry, cowboy, but that’s not my style.

  Beau frowns as if reading my thoughts. Then he sighs and gestures for me to get behind him. After muttering something about stubborn females with a death wish, he touches the door with the barrel of his gun, nudging it open before pressing himself against the wall in case someone is waiting inside to shoot us. But there’s nothing but the roar of the blood rushing through my veins and my own ragged breathing.

  Hot on his heels, I tiptoe inside after Beau. He doesn’t flip on the light, but there’s enough moonlight filtering in the front window to see that the house has been trashed. The couch has been tipped over, its cushions scattered. Kitchen drawers in the minuscule attached kitchenette lie scattered on the floor, their contents everywhere. Fear lodges itself firmly in my chest. God, I hope she’s not in here. Maybe we should have called the cops, after all.

  Beau and I quickly scan the living room and kitchen. Down the short hallway is a single bathroom, barely large enough to turn around in, and two bedrooms. The first must be her son’s room, as it’s got a kid’s bed with a comforter covered in frolicking dogs and several car sets and racing posters on the walls. Shelves line one side with various electronics and gadgets, basic kid stuff. But thankfully, there’s no kid. The second room must be Annette’s. It’s got a full-sized bed, a dresser, and a small desk. The dresser drawers lie in a heap on the ground, clothing strewn across the floor. The single drawer in the desk is likewise upended. Whoever was in here was definitely looking for something.

  After searching the house and realizing there’s no one here, Beau turns the lights on with the butt of his gun and nudges the front door shut. “Now can we call the cops?” he asks, sounding exasperated.

  “I wonder what they were looking for,” I muse, scanning the living room. “It has to be about the treasure.”

  Beau swears under his breath. “No, it doesn’t. It could be her ex, or Bill, or hell, even Annette herself on a bender. You don’t know her that well. It could have been anyone, for any number of reasons. It doesn’t have to be just about the treasure.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Humor me, okay? I just need five minutes to look around, then you can call the cops.” He still looks indecisive, so I press on. “Just five minutes to look around. It can’t hurt anything, right? Annette’s gone.”

  He sighs when I give him my best puppy-dog-eyes impression. “Fine. Five minutes.”

  The first three minutes are a bust. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but I start with nudging my way through the scattered paperwork in the kitchen. There are tons of bills and a letter from her attorney about a missed payment and lack of child support. Poor Annette. Now I know why she was so bitter about Tombstone. She really is well and truly stuck here until her kid grows up.

  On a hunch, I return to her bedroom and rustle through the papers on her nightstand. Nothing there, either. Then my eyes alight on the only untouched piece of furniture in the room, the little trash can tucked in the corner under her desk. I cover my hands with my sleeves so I don’t leave fingerprints, pull it out, and dump its contents on the floor.

  There are a couple of half-finished grocery lists and a past due notice for the water. As I toss that one back in, a Post-It note flutters behind the trash can. With a strange feeling that this is it, I grab the scrap of paper and turn on my phone’s flashlight so I can see better. There’s nothing written on it, and I try not to let that dampen my disappointment. Holding it up in the light, I see several slight indentations in the papers, as though someone had written on the sheet on top of this one then pulled it off. Yes!

  I root around in the contents on the floor until I find a pencil, then shade in the sticky note until a series of numbers appears: 31.3929° N, 110.2929° W. This has got to be something. I shove it in my pocket and hurry back into the living room.

  Standing with his back to the fridge and his gun held loosely in his hand, Beau nods at me. “Now can we call the police?” he asks, his voice pained. There’s a muscle in his jaw that keeps twitching, and I’m pretty sure it’s my fault. Before he offered us this case, I bet Beau didn’t spend too much time on the gray side of the law.

  I dig my hand into my pocket, fingers searching until they find the sticky note. Good, it’s still there. I’m torn about whether or not I should tell him about it, but first, we probably should get out of here before someone calls the cops, especially if it’s not us. It’s getting lighter out, and Annette’s neighbors are bound to notice two strangers in her house without her car being there. “Yeah, but let’s get out of here. We’ve already called the cops once tonight, and they think we made up what happened, so they’re not going to believe us if we call them again. Let’s find a pay phone so they can’t track us as easily.”

  Beau side-eyes me for a long second. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?”

  I give him an uneasy, hollow laugh. “Trust me, this is all relatively new to me too.”

  He raises his eyebrows. Clearly, he doesn’t believe me.

  “Just humor me. There’s got to be a pay phone somewhere, either here or in Sierra Vista, we can use.”

  Beau pulls his hat off and runs his hands through his hair. “Okay. Fine. I think I remember seeing one at the strip mall in Sierra Vista that closed down. We can try there.”

  Perfect. A shady, defunct strip mall in the middle of the night doesn’t sound dangerous at all.

  Half an hour later, we find the strip mall, with its boarded windows and honest-to-God tumbleweeds rolling through the bleached, cracked parking lot. Beau stands guard in the dawn light while I call the police, stumbling over the story I’ve rehearsed in my head a million times, talking about my worry for my friend, how we haven’t seen her in a couple of days, and this is so unlike her. I give them her address and throw in that she has a kid, hoping that it makes the situation more urgent. I can’t help the feeling that something bad really is following Annette, and we may be the only ones who are worried about where she is and what’s happened to her and her son.

  After I finish the call, I wipe the receiver and the buttons with my sleeve, just in case the police trace the call back to the strip mall. And then, feeling as if a thousand eyes are following us from all of the empty store fronts, I hurry back to Beau’s truck, and we coast slowly out of the parking lot, as if that will help us avoid attention.

  Back at the ranch, the sun finally breaks free of the mountains and ascends into the sky. I pull out my phone and snap a picture. Yeah, there’s a lot of crap going on with the cases and my sister and everything else, but this is beautiful country, and I’ve never really seen anything like it. On top of the fact that I’m rarely up this early in the morning, it’s a real treat.

  The light in the kitchen is on in Beau’s house, and he grimaces. “Dad’s up,” he says. “Do you want to go talk to him?”

  I shift from side to side. I need to talk to Jess, but I know Russ would have called or texted me if there were any problems and he took her back to the hospital. Since there aren’t any messages, we might as well go in. A few minutes won’t hurt.

  Beau’s dad sits at the huge kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He folds the paper and sets it down after he sees us. For some reason, I feel ashamed, like a teenager caught sneaking out, and when Beau’s dad frowns disapprovingly at us, the feeling grows even worse.

  “Son,” he says, barely even glancing at me.

  “Dad.” Beau gestures to me. “You met Meredith and her crew, right?”

  His dad grunts. “We need to talk.” His dad gives him
a scathing look that clearly means alone.

  Uh oh. I remember that tone of voice. Sure, my parents have been gone for almost three years now, but I remember the sound of parental condescension and the existential dread of getting into trouble or disappointing them. I back toward the door.

  “It’s not what you think,” Beau says, imploring me with his eyes to stay. “Meredith and I were in Tombstone, trying to figure out what Billy was doing on our property.” He quickly gives his dad the rundown of the last night, conveniently leaving out Jess’s concussion.

  “Damn it,” his dad says. “Why can’t you leave well enough alone? Your brother’s dead, and I can’t lose you too.”

  Beau winces at his dad’s words.

  “Sit down, both of you. It’s about time you heard the truth.”

  With a glance at Beau, I sit next to him, across from his dad.

  “There is no gold. There never was. That was just the story of a drunk prospector trying to sound bigger than he already was. Your great-grandpa never had any gold.”

  “Then what was he hiding?” Beau asks. “And why are Billy and Joey back after four years?”

  “I can answer that,” Beau’s dad says, his voice gruff. “Billy was in prison for petty theft. It was his first offense, so they went easy on him. After he got out, he asked me for a job. I said no. I never liked that boy when your brother hung out with him, and I don’t want him here.”

  Beau starts to stand up, but one stern look from his father makes him sit down again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you,” his dad says. “Seeing Billy again brought back so many memories. I couldn’t believe he had the guts to ask for a job after what happened.”

  Beau’s eyes meet mine, a light dawning in his depths. “It wasn’t about the job. It was about the treasure. He still believes there’s treasure out there, and he wanted access to our land. He wants to finish what he started with Carter four years ago. He doesn’t want to make amends or beg for forgiveness. He just wants the gold.”

  His dad shakes his head. “Billy doesn’t have anything to beg for forgiveness for. Carter’s death was an accident.”

  Beau laughs, but it’s a harsh, hollow sound. “I don’t think so. I’ve always thought something else happened. If it was an accident, Billy would have come and gotten us sooner. But he didn’t. He waited until it was too late.” Beau’s voice cracks. “But we won’t wait this time. I’m going to get that son-of-a-bitch.”

  Chapter 24

  “Where do you think he took her?” Beau stands at the window in our living room, staring out over the horizon, his arms folded across his chest. “He’s got to know we’re on to him.” He turns toward me, fire burning in his eyes. “We need to go back to Tombstone. Now.”

  “And do what?” I throw my hands in the air. “He’s not there. He left, remember? We don’t know where he is.”

  Bear jumps on my leg and I scoop him up. “I don’t know if we should go in with guns blazing. Remember where we are? Everyone’s armed. We’ll get shot.” I’ve already used more lives than a cat, so my luck is bound to run out eventually.

  “We can’t just let him go,” Beau says mulishly.

  “I’m with Beau,” Russ says, typing furiously on the laptop at the small kitchenette. Jess watches TV from the recliner, sipping one of Russ’s Mountain Dews to stay awake. Probably not what the doctor would order, but it’s better than nothing.

  I snort. “Of course you are. How are the forums?” Maybe if I can distract them, we can let this simmer down until we come up with an actual plan.

  “Not good,” Russ says. “We’ve been radio silent for too long without filming or a Q and A or any evidence during an active investigation. People are antsy. We’ve gotten a couple pissy emails, but I can feel it building. We need to investigate, and quick.”

  I grimace. “Did you tell them what happened to Jess?” Hopefully, he used some tact and didn’t make it sound like she almost got killed. I don’t think our aunt watches our videos any longer, but I don’t want to test it and find out.

  He nods. “And I uploaded all of the footage we have, but it’s not enough. People want Tombstone. They’ve moved past the alien angle and are convinced it’s a hoax. They want more of the O.K. Corral and the Lily Theater, more buried treasure and that sort of thing.”

  An idea sparks in my brain. It’s probably a bad idea—most of mine usually are, or at least stupidly reckless—but it’s an idea nonetheless. Russ is barely talking to me after I told him how I snuck out last night, and this isn’t going to help get him on my good side, but it might save the show. I pull out my phone and toss it to him. Beau will probably hate me, too.

  “When I was following Beau last night, I recorded everything I heard, just in case Beau killed me and dumped my body in the desert. It’s still on the camera and I haven’t edited it yet, but it’s something.”

  The object of my stalking raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t dump your body in the desert,” he says dryly. “They’d find you too quickly. No, I’d use one of the caves the old prospectors used to hide their gold.”

  Both Russ and I stare at him while Jess snorts. “Yeah, I can see why you like him.”

  “Shut up.” I duck my head to hide my burning cheeks.

  “That’s genius,” Russ says. He plugs the camera into the computer. “Want me to upload all of the footage you took?”

  I chew on my lip. No, even I’m not that stupid. “Do you mind scanning through it, first? Just in case there’s anything really incriminating in there.”

  “Sure,” Russ says. “I can do that.”

  Beau grimaces. “I can’t believe you recorded me.”

  I scoop Bear off of my lap and set him down on the pillows. “Why don’t we do a brief intro to tack onto it first. I can lead up to the clip, and then we can ask anyone who’s been to Tombstone if they recognize the man’s voice who helped me escape. That should keep them busy for a little while.”

  “Good idea,” Russ says. “I’ll get everything set up.”

  “And after that,” Beau says, “either we go to Tombstone together to find that bastard, or I go alone.” He gets up and leaves the cabin, promising to hit the road in twenty minutes, with or without us.

  “How are you doing?” Russ asks. “Like, how are you really doing?”

  I try to shrug him off, but I can’t. “I... I don’t know. God, after Jess got hurt, I thought I was going to lose it.”

  “Me, too.”

  I hunch my shoulders, and Russ slings one arm around them, pulling me close. “Now, let’s get this intro filmed before Lover Boy leaves and we get more hate mail.”

  After what feels like only a minute has passed, Beau knocks on the door. “Are you ready?” he asks, but it’s not really a question.

  “Yeah, let’s just grab our gear.”

  Russ tosses me a harness and slips on one of his own. We each check our cameras, and I snap a leash onto Bear’s collar. It’s the middle of the day, so it’s not like Bill’s going to attack us—I hope. Jess heads to the main house to grab some lunch. She’s not happy we’re leaving her behind, but she’ll deal. She knows she can’t go with us in the state she’s in.

  On the drive to Tombstone, Russ fields questions online, and I text Jess to let her know what’s going on as soon as it’s over. She’s shrieking at me in all caps over the footage we uploaded, and I stuff the phone back into my pocket while it’s still buzzing. I may have downplayed the danger a little bit.

  The street is bustling, but it doesn’t take us long to realize Billy’s not there. None of the actors who are willing to talk to us admit to seeing him, and the new Wild Bill is the stand-in.

  “He said he was sick,” New Bill says, scratching his mustache. “Seems to be going around.”

  Yeah, sure it is. “Uh huh.” Russ and I share a look while Beau scowls.

  “Any idea where we might find him?”

  “Nope, sorry,” New Bill says, and before I ca
n ask him another question, he gets waylaid by another guest.

  “Well, Beau, what do you—” I turn to Beau, but all of a sudden he takes off, running through the crowd and darting down an alley. I follow at a swift clip. Behind the buildings, in a dirt parking lot, Beau grabs Bill, the real Bill, by the collar and slams him against the back of the building.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Beau snarls.

  I grab Beau’s arm so he doesn’t choke the guy to death. “Let him go.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You’re going to get arrested.”

  “I don’t care.” Beau squeezes his fingers around Bill’s neck. “Talk.”

  Bill coughs. “I don’t know anything. We were just looking for the treasure. I swear.”

  “Oh yeah? After my dad wouldn’t hire you. Is that the only reason you came back to Tombstone?” He lets up on the other man’s windpipe just enough for Bill to cough out an answer.

  “Just let me go, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Russ and I share a look as Beau lowers him gently to the ground. That was easy. Too easy. Bill clutches his throat, coughing.

  “Out with it,” Beau says.

  “First off, I want you to know I loved Carter. He was like a brother to me. But we were young and stupid. And when Carter fell off of his horse, Joey said he would call 911. I didn’t check. I was too scared. I didn’t want to get in trouble. Joey said he’d take care of it and that since I’d already gotten arrested before, I should go home. Your dad didn’t like me to begin with, so it seemed like a good idea at the time.” His voice cracks. “I was so sure that I would call over the next day and talk to your brother, and we’d have a good laugh, and then we’d be raising hell again the next weekend, but then I heard what happened, and...” He stares at his hands.