She’s poking her tongue in her cheek and bobbing her head up and down real slow. Each time the sun flashes off her glasses, my eyes sting. When I ask her if she wants me to show her what I found, she spins around to look down the road. She’s waiting for backup, apparently fearing the spider exterminator.
The road is long and wide open without a single car in either direction. Coleman exhales, adjusts her holster, or whatever she’s got going on under that jacket, and points to the field. “Lead the way,” she says. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
I look over at Mojo and he hangs his head. Once we get to the path and are within eyesight of the jacket, Coleman orders me to return to the road to wait for the officers. As I’m walking away, she warns me not to take off.
I’m half way back to the road when I see the troops looking in all directions. One tells me to halt when he sees me coming. The other officer has his hand on his gun. Seriously, do criminals in this town really call the police to come to the scene of their crimes? I don’t bother to ask.
“Detective Coleman is back this way.” I motion in the direction while hoping to avoid getting shot. I recognize one of the cops from the skull discovery; he’s the one who’s feeling a little gun happy. He’s looking at me like I’m a vampire then lags behind while I lead the way for the other cop.
When we get there, Coleman barks orders. They exchange eye rolls and smirks but don’t say a word. Coleman shoos me away from the alleged crime scene and gets busy searching her pockets for her notepad and pen. She barks at me to walk her through it.
I blame my being in the field on Mojo. I tell her he’s trained in tracking, leaving the ghost part out. “Caught a scent,” I say, and shrug. “Just my luck.” I regret the words as soon as I say them, but that’s exactly how I feel.
The woman lowers her sunglasses and glares at me before slipping them back on. “When was the last time you saw Owen Thornton?”
I tell her how I stopped by the barn yesterday, but didn’t stay because they were having a business meeting with the Silvers. This she finds quite amusing before what I’ve been thinking is odd, if not obvious, hits her. I have to admit I too was slow in connecting Owen’s missing status and the Silvers being back in town.
Coleman spends a minute writing in her notepad. “You meet the Silvers?”
“No—
“Why not?”
I look at her notepad and cock my head to the side before I repeat real slow and spiteful that they were having a business meeting. She bounces the sunlight in my eyes.
“So let me get this straight. You’re here all the way from New Mexico to get rid of spiders in a dilapidated barn out in a field where you just happen to find an old skull one day and the personal property of one of the parties who works in said barn another day.”
“Actually, my dog found both the skull and the personal property of said party. I just called the police about both.”
“Why not take the jacket and license back to the barn and give it to Mr. Thornton?”
Yeah, that’s what I wished I’d done, but it’s too late now. Normally, I have this thing about respecting the hand that feeds me. In my business confidentiality is greatly appreciated by my clients, and I don’t like them blabbing all over town about what it is I’m doing for them either. I feel like I’m on the verge of becoming a blabber.
Coleman’s waiting for my answer, and she’s not looking happy about having to wait. I tell her I watch a lot of crime shows on television and that I didn’t want to risk interfering in what might be a police matter. Then I tell her I’ll retrieve the items and take them to the barn. I start walking to the path. She yells at me to hold up.
She’s tugging on the waistband of her pants and scanning the field. Then she tells me I did the right thing, but that it isn’t the way most people would have responded unless they already knew the kid was missing. She slides her sunglasses off and glares at me.
“I didn’t know he was missing. What happened?”
She fumbles and drops her pen then says, “You tell me.”
“You were the one that said…. For all I know, he’s at the barn right now, working away at whatever it is he does. Have you checked?”
She glares at me but doesn’t answer.
I throw up my hands in surrender and don’t even notice the officer who’s come up behind me.
“Forensics is on their way,” he says, looking at me then Coleman. “Jacket’s got a good pint of blood on the inside.”
Chapter Twenty Eight
§
I’m sitting in the little room at the police station waiting for Coleman to come back while wondering how you can tell how much blood is soaked into a jacket. According to Coleman, Todd and Zeda are also sitting in little rooms at the station.
I’m getting bored so I check my phone. I’m hoping if Zeda didn’t already contact Loren about Owen, I can before she sees it on the news stations. I also hope Todd’s cooled off and not digging a deep hole for himself. The thought of him digging a hole makes me nauseous.
As I check for messages, I get a call. It isn’t Loren, and I’m so busy staring at the number, I’m forgetting to answer.
It’s Grace Parker and when I do answer, I’m thinking no one has ever been happier to talk to me. After a few seconds though, I’m not sure she even knows who I am.
She’s busy talking about her oriental poppies that are red this year and how the yarrow is early. Three minutes into the conversation, I get the feeling she thinks I’m her gardener. I interrupt because I really do want her help, despite how Diana wants otherwise.
Of course in the, hopefully unlikely, event that Todd is arrested for Owen’s murder, the only thing I have left to do in Eton Bluff is pack my things and leave. Leave without those ten thousand bucks in my pocket and one less client. Murder is the term Coleman used after she came back from looking at the blood on the jacket.
When Grace pauses a second, I jump in. “We didn’t get to finish your interview the other day.”
She’s confuse and I remind her that the interview was for the barn book. She’s intrigued all over again and another few minutes are wasted on her reminiscing about barns being a dying institution. I jump in again to remind her that our meeting is confidential until the book is published.
“Mum’s the word,” she says.
When I hear the click of the door handle, I tell Grace that if seven o’clock is still good for her, I’ll see her then. She agrees with much delight then whispers that she has a secret to tell me. I could seriously use a secret about now and hope Coleman plans on letting me go so I get to hear it.
The detective’s been taking her time outside the open door, making small talk and eavesdropping on my call. I’m sure she or someone else has been watching and listening to me through the one-way mirror so I don’t much care. When she comes into the room, she folds her arms across her chest and stands ready to intimidate me.
She’s already told me on the drive over that officers found the door of Owen’s apartment unlocked and that someone had torn through his things. My stomach was queasy all over again, and not just because I got the impression Coleman has me on her suspect list.
Me and the wolfdog were swabbed and photographed before we got locked in the room. I figure I’m here to waste another day with Coleman, but the woman surprises me.
“Your alibi at the diner and Starling’s last night checks out. The hotel footage also confirms when you arrived last night and left this morning.”
“Thank goodness for surveillance cameras,” I say. “Is someone available to drive me back to the barn so I can get my jeep?”
“Not so fast. I understand you spoke to Todd Ellis this morning. You failed to mention your conversation with the boy.” Coleman’s leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest again. She’s one more inch from tipping the chair and falling flat on the floor.
“It wasn’t really a conversation,” I say. “I was checking for… for spide
rs, and he and Zeda came in early. I left right after they got there.”
“According to Ms. Raine, you didn’t leave before Ellis confessed to killing Owen.” The chair finally slips and Coleman springs to her feet as it falls to the floor. She picks it up and straddles it with the back pressed against the table. I can smell sausage on her breath.
“Todd never confessed to killing anyone. Not to me anyway.”
“Ms. Raine stated he said Owen was dead when you were still in the barn.” Coleman slams her fist on the table. “Why did you leave that fact out of your statement?”
Mojo was lying by my chair; now he’s standing next to Coleman, sniffing her. Not the goofy way most dogs sniff. He’s subtle in everything he does. He leans in, sniffs, pulls back, waits, and sniffs again. Coleman gets up and goes to stand against the wall.
I’m not in the mood to defend Todd, but I’ve got that client loyalty thing going on again in addition to wanting to end this discussion so I can get out of the Eton Bluff Police Station. With both clients here, the barn is all mine.
“Todd was angry about some mistakes he thought Owen made. It was business. He didn’t say he was dead, he said he was dead meat. I took what he said as nothing more than juvenile hyperbole.”
“Hyper what?”
“He was exaggerating. Listen, I have things to do today. Unless you have reason to hold me, I’d like to leave.”
Coleman has scrunched up her face. “All right. I’ll allow you to leave the station, but you are not authorized to leave town.”
“Ever?”
“What? Yes. I mean no. You just can’t leave right now. When are you planning on leaving?”
“A few more days,” I say, but I think I’m being optimistic. For all I know, Todd really did kill Owen, and the dwindling Spider crew has much more than a ghost problem.
Coleman tells me to call her before I leave, and I agree to do so with some misgivings. She walks me to the front of the station and thanks me for calling in the matter. Then she looks at Mojo and nods her head in approval. He pushes past her and stands at the door.
“Raven, I get the feeling that you aren’t telling me everything you know.”
“Telling everything I know would take more time than either of us have.”
“What? Right. Don’t leave town.” Coleman disappears down a hallway.
I know I should have asked about Todd and Zeda, but my thoughts are scattered, or maybe I don’t really want to know. An officer is waiting at the door to drive me back to the barn and I follow him to his car. He spends more time watching me in his rearview mirror than he does watching the road.
Todd’s car is gone and I fear Coleman had it towed over his dead meat comment. I’m lucky she didn’t do the same to my own vehicle. My plan to spend this time alone in the barn is foiled by an oversized chain and padlock.
When I ask how soon until it’s removed, the officer tells me to check with Coleman. He waits until I pull onto the road then follows me all the way back to the hotel. I wave when I get out and watch until he’s gone just to annoy him.
We head for the field next to the hotel. I need to clear my rattled mind and calm my senses. I also need to call Loren. She answers sounding like she’s running on a treadmill. She says her day’s been crazy and it isn’t even halfway over yet.
After she launches into the details of a bride’s ex-boyfriend who is the singer in the band that is supposed to perform at the reception, I cut her off and give her the condensed version of my day, and maybe Owen’s last.
The woman is off the metaphorical treadmill and for a minute, I think our call has been disconnected. Then she whispers, “Charlie.” Then she yells Charlie followed by a few vintage curse words. I nearly drop my phone.
“I’m not sure we can blame this on Charlie,” I say. Loren isn’t listening. She’s singing Todd’s and Zeda’s praises and their fear of the Lord.
“Of course it was him,” she says, about Charlie. “You were right. I should have talked them out of working in that barn. It’s the devil’s pit and you have to do something about it before it kills half the town.”
After I tell her the police have the barn’s doors bolted shut, she agrees to get in touch with Todd’s parents and find out what’s going on. She promises to call as soon as I can have access again.
“I’m meeting with Grace at seven tonight. I hope to get more information about Argus and Edith Pudge. Actually, I’m hoping to get her to agree to go to the barn with me. I want to see if her being there will help me make contact with Argus.”
Loren is silent. My words even surprised me. But what are my options? I’ve been here for five days and things are still on the downslide. I’ve apparently lost another client, Todd’s gone from easy going to raging lunatic, the police are warning me not to leave, and Diana is trying to buy me a ticket out of town.
I could live with most of that, but I’m still not sure what this haunting is all about, and that is a big problem. On top of everything else, Zeda’s right. The spiders are back.
Loren clears her throat. “Do you think that’s really a good idea. I mean look what happened to the last person who went out there with her.”
“She’s seventy three years old. I think I’ll be okay.”
“You think? She was just fourteen when a man lost his head.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
§
Quite inappropriately, I laughed at Loren’s comment about Grace. She’s right about not taking Grace to the barn, but more for the woman’s sake than my own.
In all my confusion, I’ve even considered that there are multiple spirits in the barn. One who playfully hides keys, another who whispers warnings, and a third who bites the heads off spiders and maybe pushes a kid to his death and makes paranormal groups disappear.
I order a sandwich at the hotel coffee shop and head back to the room to get ready to go to Grace’s house. I hope she remembers me still and pray that Diana doesn’t show up. Back in the room, I turn on a local news station to see if there are any reports about Owen. If there were, I missed them.
I’m listening from the bathroom as I’m putting on the final touches. What I do find out is that the spider epidemic is getting a lot more attention. After an interview with an arachnid expert, the newscaster says that Eton Bluff has its own spider expert, of sorts.
The person also says something about trying to get a statement from that expert as she was leaving the police station this afternoon. I rush to the television to see the back of my head as I’m telling a reporter that I didn’t have any comments. I thought they were asking about Owen. They don’t bother to say what I was doing at the police station to begin with or how they knew the local spider expert was even there. Coleman.
As soon as I open the door, I look for a cop car or reporter. I’ve got to keep a lower profile. After turning onto Dolton Road, I slow down and watch in my rearview mirror. When I’m sure I’m alone, I pull up to the mansion’s gate.
A female voice I don’t recognize answers the intercom. I don’t think it’s Diana, but I’m praying anyway. I almost miss what the woman says because I’m busy watching the mannequin in the upstairs window watching me. I say I have an appointment with Grace about her interview. The woman tells me to wait.
Provided I get in to see Grace, I’ve already decided to forgo honesty for the fantasy world the woman lives in– and probably has lived in since the night in the barn. I’m going with her being the real Grace Parker and plan to interview her for the barn book and the love affair she had with a dashing young man.
The woman comes back, and as the gate slides open, she tells me to drive to the front of the house. As soon as I get out, the woman, who appears to be a nurse, is standing in the doorway. She’s polite and silent as she leads me to a sitting room where Grace is waiting.
“Ms. Raven, how wonderful of you to make a second trip to see me.”
Wonderful. Grace is cognitive tonight. She’s also a sight that takes me a few minutes t
o absorb. She’s sitting on a blood-red chaise, dressed in a long, flowing robe, sparkly high heels, and she’s got a ten inch Audrey Hepburn style cigarette holder. She’s busy smoking up the room. If it wasn’t for the lavender hair, I’d swear I’ve stepped right into the 1950s.
“It’s good to see you again Ms. Parker.”
“Ms. Gracie, please. I insist you not date me.”
She’s pouring me a cup of tea and asking where we left off. I’ve got my notepad out and am doing my best to read the blank page. “We had just gotten to the part about the love story. Argus Pudge and Grace Parker.”
“Pudge and Parker. It sounds so dreadful when stated that way. Grace Pudge.” She sighs and goes back to blowing cigarette smoke. My eyes are watering.
“Yes, I believe you said Edith showed up and shot Argus.”
“Only because he stood in front of me. The woman came to shoot me. He was such a gallant young man and so good looking. Such a pity. Edith? Is that who you said was there that night?”
“I thought she was.” I’m checking my pretend notes. “I’m not sure now. Who do you think shot Argus?”
She slumps. “Yes, it was that dreadful woman. She leaped out of the darkness like a wild animal and dashed all my happiness with a single bullet. Of course Argus saved me; he adored me. He practically attacked me in taking that bullet.”
Grace has replaced her cigarette with another and there’s a fine cloud of smoke between us. I think she must be smoking Turkish or some other foreign cigarette. The more the smoke fills the room, the sweeter and skunkier it smells and the more lightheaded I feel.
“What happened after she fired the gun?”
Grace tips her head back and closes her eyes. I hope she’s trying to remember that night. After a minute though, I think she’s asleep.
“Ms. Gracie? Do you recall what happened after Argus was shot?”
She raises her head like it weighs a hundred pounds. “It was so long ago. A lifetime really. A life that never was. Oh yes, the head. That’s where I know you. I was so surprised to learn that they found it after all these years.”
The Eton Bluff Haunting (Jack Raven Ghost Mystery Book 4) Page 14
