Maggie Bryant had grown used to hearing Robby having whispered conversations. She had overheard him talking to himself in his bedroom, on the back porch of their home, while walking up the driveway, and even while taking a shower. Hearing her son having a conversation with his "imaginary" friend certainly concerned her, but hearing him talking to no one no longer surprised her.
As she walked down the hallway, she passed Robby's closed bedroom door. He had been home from school for no more than 30 minutes, and in keeping with his normal schedule, he went right from the front door to the kitchen to grab a quick snack and to give his mom a two-minute recap of his day at school before retreating to his room to pound out his homework.
Maggie paused at his door and silently listened to the quiet mumblings of her only son. Her heart ached for him as she heard Robby say something, pause for an answer, then respond back. It was her idea to hire Derek Cole after reading about him in online blogs, e-zines, and a few articles published by reputable and well-known newspapers. The blogs she read indicated "Cole is the investigator for those whom the normal investigative agencies dismiss." She was inspired to contact him when she read about how "Cole, once he accepts a case, works tirelessly to provide a desired outcome." Her decision was made final when she read about a woman in Texas who hired Derek Cole when she was accused of harming her child but insisted she was innocent.
"Derek Cole listened to my side of the story when the police were only focused on trying to catch me in lies and to find evidence that proved that I was abusing my daughter. Derek didn't judge me from day one. He went to work, and within four days, found rock solid proof that I was innocent and that my daughter's soccer coach was the guilty party."
As Maggie stood, her head resting against her son's bedroom door, with eyes closed and arms hanging limp to her sides, she begged to God that Derek's investigation was going well and that he would be able help her son.
Her eyes only shot open when she heard the other voice. It was a deep and very foreign sound that she never heard Robby make. The door muffled the words, but she was certain that what she heard were words. Spoken in response to something Robby said. Words targeted and charged with a dark energy that Maggie could almost feel through the door.
At first, she wondered if her husband, Jack, had returned from his overnight trip and was spending time with Robby. But she knew better. She knew Jack wouldn't be back until Robby's bedtime and certainly wouldn't be in Robby's room talking to him about anything that would require a closed door.
Maggie paused. Her left hand grasped the doorknob, and her eyes, blistering with warm tears, were opened as wide as they could be. She wanted to be sure that she heard what she believed she had heard. If she sprang into Robby's room, with panic etched across her face, she knew she would only embarrass her son and send him even deeper into the emotional cave he was living in.
But when she heard the voice again, her reservations evaporated. In one surprisingly smooth move, she opened the bedroom door and hastened its opening with a thrusting shoulder. Her eyes locked, out of memory, on Robby's face as he sat on his bed. His face comforted her. He seemed thankful that his mom had stormed into the room and was there, not to accuse him of being "crazy" but instead to investigate why his friend was suddenly able to make his voice so loud. His face comforted her, but what she saw out of the corner of her eye did not.
It was a clearly defined shadow of movement. Maggie was certain that the figure was that of a man who had quickly drawn his right arm up to cover his face as he retreated swiftly backwards before seeming being absorbed into Robby's wardrobe.
"You saw him, didn't you mom?"
"Robby? Robby?"
"You saw him. Tell me you saw him, mommy?"
"I saw him, Robby," Maggie said.
She rushed to his side, scooped him into her arms, and quickly made her way out of his bedroom. She shut the bedroom door behind her with her trailing foot and carried her son as far away from his room as the confines of her house allowed.
"Did you see his face?" Robby asked.
"Oh, my God, Robby. I'm so sorry."
"Did you see his face?" he asked again, his eyes pregnant with expected hope.
"No," she said as she shook her head. "I didn't see his face."
With Robby sitting on the sofa in the living room, Maggie walked back down the hallway to his room. When she reached his bedroom door, Maggie paused and strained her ears to listen to anything coming from the inside of Robby's bedroom. Hearing nothing, she opened the door, released her hold of the handle, and let the door swing fully open.
All looked as it should. Robby's bed was tidy, save for the pillows he had moved to make his sitting against the headboard more comfortable. His schoolbooks lay open towards the foot of his bed, and his sweater was lying where Robby had dropped it on the floor, six inches from the dirty clothes hamper.
Maggie moved, her jaw and fists clenched, towards the five-foot high wardrobe that was set a couple of feet away from the foot of Robby's bed. The wardrobe was designed and built by Jack. It was solid oak with hasps custom made of antiqued brass. Both doors of the wardrobe, which spanned the entire five feet of the furniture piece, were closed tightly. Maggie stood before the wardrobe doors, and without hesitating, pulled them open.
Inside, just as they should be, sat Robby's clothes. Dress shirts and pants, or as Robby called them, his "fancy clothes," all on hangers on the right-hand side of the wardrobe, socks on a lower shelf, and shoes and sneakers clumsily arranged on the bottom. T-shirts, underwear, sweaters, and sleep clothes all neatly stacked on their appropriate shelves on the left-hand side.
Nothing was out of place, and nothing was inside of the wardrobe that didn't belong.
Maggie shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingers.
"Get a grip, girl," she said to herself. "Your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you're just too stressed out. Take a deep breath."
She drew in a deep, long breath and held it inside her lungs for 15 seconds before slowly releasing.
"Get a grip," she said to herself again.
"He's gone, isn't he?"
Maggie spun around to see Robby standing in the doorway.
"You didn't see his face, Mom?" he asked again.
"Robby," she said, hoping her intentionally calm voice would still her beating heart, "why don't you wait for me out in the living room. Mommy will be right there, okay?"
"Okay," Robby said, his eyes still displaying a desperate hope. "I'm glad you saw him. Now you don't think that I'm crazy like dad and everyone else does."
Robby turned and headed back down the hallway.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"I need you to come over. Now," Maggie's voice was charged with energy and a certainty that Derek could not dismiss.
"Did something happen?" Derek asked.
"I'm still paying you, and I insist that you come to my house right now." Though the words were clearly pronounced, Derek sensed that Maggie was not one to give orders to people very often.
"Maggie," he said, "I'm just getting ready to leave Father Flannigan's home and will head right over. Do you need me to bring anything?"
"No. Just come quick."
Derek's face told John Flannigan enough.
"Something happen?" John asked. "Are she and Robby okay?"
"Not sure what happened or if anything happened, and I'm not sure everyone is okay. I need to get over there right away."
"Yes, of course," John said. "And Derek, I know this is not any of my business, but please let me know that the Bryants are not harmed. And please, don't make this meeting our last. I think there's much more that I can help you with."
"I'll be back in touch, Father. Thank you."
#####
Maggie was standing outside of the front doorway when Derek pulled into the Bryant's driveway. Though the wind was less severe than yesterday, Derek thought it was much too cold for Maggie to be standing outside waiting for him.
"You
really shouldn't be standing out in this cold," he said as he walked up the cleared walkway. "I know they say you can't catch a cold from being cold, but still, it's damn cold out here."
"I saw something," Maggie said, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "I don't know what I saw, but I know I saw something. I've been standing out here since I called you trying to clear my head. Trying to convince myself that I didn't see what I saw. But I saw something. I know I did."
"Where's Robby?" Derek asked.
"He's inside on the couch. He should be finishing his homework." Maggie smiled as she glanced over her shoulder and through the glass door. When she turned her head back to face Derek, tears had formed in the bottom of her eyes. "It was in his room, talking to him. I heard it from the hallway. Damn thing said something, and I heard it."
"You said you saw something, not that you heard something," Derek said.
"I needed to be sure so I waited in the hallway until I heard it again. I busted into Robby's room, and I saw a man standing at the foot of Robby's bed."
"You saw a man standing in Robby's room?"
"More like a shadow, but it was a man. It happened so fast, all I can be sure of is that it was a shadow of a man."
"How long did you see it for?"
"A second. Half a second. Less. I don't know, it was so fast. But I saw it raise its arm up to cover its face and then back into Robby's wardrobe."
"It went into a wardrobe?" Derek asked.
"Not into it, just, you know, 'into it.' Like it became part of it. You think I'm nuts, don't you?"
"Maybe, but I'm too damn cold to know what I'm thinking."
Maggie chuckled as she wiped the tears from her face. She hung her head low, nodded as she spoke.
"The only thing Robby asked me was if I saw his face."
"The shadow's face?"
"Yeah," Maggie said, her eyes fixed on Derek's. "He was so happy that I saw it and only wanted to know if I saw its face."
"You know," Derek said, "I really want to talk more about this, check out Robby's room, and fill you in on what I've found out so far, but I don't think I can do it."
"Why?" Maggie asked, her concern flooding her voice.
"I have reason to believe my tongue may suffer frost bite if I talk much more out here. In case you hadn't noticed, it is a tad chilly out here."
Her laugh was so simple and pure that Derek felt warmer just from hearing it. She reached out her hand and gently touched Derek's arm. With her smile still gracing her face, she nodded towards the door and gently guided Derek to follow her inside.
"Did you tell Mr. Cole that you saw Phillip, Mom?"
Robby was sitting crossed-legged on the couch when Maggie and Derek came through the door. His eyes shot straight at Derek when he asked his mother about what she had told Derek.
"Yes, Robby," Maggie said. "I told him."
"Did you tell him that you didn't see his face, too?"
"Robby," Maggie said, "Mr. Cole and I need to talk for a bit. Can you finish your homework here while Mr. Cole and I talk in the dining room? We'll be right there the whole time so if you see anything, just let us know right away, okay?"
"You mean if I see Phillip again."
"Yes, if you see Phillip again. Can you do that for me?"
"My homework is done. Can I play Xbox?"
"Sure, but not too loud and nothing violent," Maggie said.
As Maggie hugged Robby and patted his head, Derek felt his iPhone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled the iPhone out and recognized that the caller was Ralph Fox.
"Maggie," Derek said, "I need to get this. Mind if I take it in Robby's room?"
"Sure," Maggie said. "Second door on the left. Bathroom is the first door."
Derek accepted Ralph's call as soon as he started down the hallway.
"Hey, Ralph, give me a second."
When he entered Robby's room, he flicked on the overhead light, and stared at the wardrobe before resuming his conversation with Ralph.
"Sorry, Ralph. Had to get somewhere private. Thanks for getting back with me."
"Seen any ghosts yet?" Ralph asked.
"Not yet, but things are getting a bit strange up here," Derek said as he slowly opened Robby's wardrobe and peered inside.
"Well, I suppose that what I am 'bout to tell you ain't gonna make things any less weird."
"I think I'd be surprised if what you found out made this case make more sense."
"Ain't got too much for you, but what I do have sure is interesting. The father, Jack Bryant is his name, right?"
"Yeah," Derek said. "Not sure if 'Jack' is his nickname or real name, though."
"That's his name. His daddy was named 'Luke,' in case you were wondering."
"I think Jack mentioned that."
"That client of yours is not a nice person, based on what I've dug up. Did he tell you anything about his dad?"
"Just that he was an abusive drunk. I guess he use to beat up Jack's mom when he got drinking."
"Say anything about him dying?"
"Just that he did. Die, that is. Just said that his dad died when Jack was around 15. Why?"
"Did he say how he died?"
"Ralph," Derek said, "I don't want to be rude, but I'm standing in the bedroom of the twelve year old who says he is visited by a ghost. He and his mom are sitting in the living room waiting for me. Think you could skip ahead to the punch line?"
"Luke Bryant, your client's daddy, was murdered. Had his head bashed in. Lead suspect was your client, Jack Bryant."
"Holy shit balls," Derek said.
"Ain't never been proven, but all the evidence points to your client. I'm still doing some digging and will let you know what I find out."
"I kind of felt there was something not right about that guy."
"That ain't all old Ralph found out for you. Seems your client ain't a big believer in the sanctity of marriage. An old friend of mine is a retired detective for the Portland Maine PD. Says that your client has a girl who lives up north of Portland. He told me that she's got a son, about four years old."
"Son of a bitch," Derek said. Something shot through Derek when he heard that Jack might not be taking his marital vows seriously. He dismissed the fleeting feeling when he recognized it as a mixture of anger, sadness for Maggie, and as something that, if true, might bring Derek and Maggie closer together.
"Last thing, and I'm not sure this is important or not, but I ain't the only person digging into Jack Bryant's past. Seems that someone else over your way has been doing some digging as well. Not sure who it is or what he or she found out, but I do find it peculiar."
"You find what peculiar?" Derek asked.
"The timing of everything. You being called up to chase ghosts around the coast of Maine and someone starting to dig around Jack Bryant's past around the same time I start my digging. Peculiar."
"Ralph," Derek said, "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your assistance. I need to have a tough conversation with my client right now so I'll have to talk with you later. Thanks again, and feel free to call me anytime if you uncover anything else important."
"I'm here to serve."
Derek ended his call with Ralph and stood silently in Robby's room. He pulled out his Moleskin and jotted down a few notes before heading back down to continue his conversation with Maggie.
Maggie was sitting on the couch watching Robby who was busily engaged in his Xbox game. She didn't notice that Derek had returned from his call and was standing in the hallway, looking at her. She sat, legs crossed, one hand braced against her forehead, with a calm, loving expression on her face. Though her sight was fixed on her son, who had moved from the couch and was now sitting on the floor a few feet away from the 55-inch flat screen, Derek could tell that Maggie wasn't seeing her son. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Derek's thoughts were split between the information he had just learned from Ralph and how he was feeling as he stood looking at Maggie. She was beautiful. Few would challenge
Derek's appraisal. But there was something more about her that pulled him towards her. A hidden vulnerability that both called to him to come and screamed at him to retreat. A fragility that revealed itself through glimpses.
"Maggie," Derek said softly. "You and I need to talk."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"You know," Derek started as Maggie placed a cup of coffee in front of him at the dining room table, "I've interviewed a lot of people in my career. I've learned that people mix the truth with lies in order to make themselves or their stories look more believable."
"Do you think I'm lying about what I saw in Robby's room?" Maggie asked.
"Not at all," Derek said as a twinge of twisting nerves erupted in his gut. "I'm referring to people in general."
Maggie sat across the table from Derek. Her coffee serving to warm her hands as she clasped the Minnie Mouse coffee mug. Her face still held a distant fear but, somehow, she felt at ease and safe when sitting with Derek.
"I need to ask you a few questions, to clarify some things that Melissa Humphrey and Ron White told me. I need you to be 100% truthful, not that I think you would lie to me. It's just that I need to know that you are telling me everything. Okay?"
"Of course," Maggie said, forcing a smile.
"My first stop yesterday," Derek forced himself to begin, "was with Melissa Humphrey. I have to say that she is a very interesting person."
"Town gossip," Maggie offered.
"That was pretty clear." Derek swallowed hard. "While I don't think she had anything to do with putting ideas of ghosts into Robby's head, she did tell me some things that concern me."
"Let me guess, she told you that I'm a raging alcoholic, and that I've been known to pass out drunk all over town?"
"Well, she wasn't that descriptive, but, yeah, that was her general point. I'm sure you can understand why I found her assertions to be interesting."
Maggie sighed and dropped her eyes towards her hands. "Alcoholic mother claims that her son is seeing a ghost. Yeah, I would understand your concerns."
Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2) Page 6
