Looking for Lillian (Hunter Jones Mystery Book 7)

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Looking for Lillian (Hunter Jones Mystery Book 7) Page 6

by Charlotte Moore


  Tucker managed a smile and told her he’d pick up the pizza.

  Tucker seemed to relax, and the conversation turned back to Buzz McFall and the mysterious Lucasta Tilling and her friend Stacy Vann.

  “Stacy’s a nice person,” Hunter said. “She works in the lunchroom at the middle school, and Bethie really liked her. I was sort of surprised to see her there last night. It just didn’t seem like her kind of event, and I sure didn’t know she was into ghost-hunting.”

  Chapter 12

  Aaron got a call from Stacy Vann, who was ready to be picked up at the hospital. Her ankle had been x-rayed, and she had been fitted with an orthopedic boot. It was a bad sprain, not a break.

  Aaron Whitchell always took his food seriously. He told Stacy he would be there in twenty minutes, and went back to enjoying his lunch. He was just tackling his second piece of fried chicken when he got a call from his wife.

  “Aaron,” Nancy Whitchell said, “You’re not going to believe what Twila just told me over the phone. You know she went ahead and opened the shop today, even though she told me she was going to close because there weren’t any customers, and then she had this new customer she’d never met before—one who wanted a shampoo and cut and style, and…”

  “Nancy, “ Aaron interrupted, “I’m really busy. We’ve got a big case going on.”

  There was a silence, and she said, “You know, I can hear you chewing. All right, Mr. Smartypants Deputy Sheriff. I’ll keep it to myself.”

  She slammed the phone down. Aaron shrugged and stuck his plastic fork into a big serving of candied yams.

  “The pillow definitely looks like somebody was suffocated with it, but I don’t think we’ll get any prints from it,” Gavin Thomas, the crime scene technician, told Sam. “Other than that and some long strands of hair, sort of dark blonde, we’ve got nothing. “

  “The hair would probably be his wife’s. She was sharing the room. How far did you search?” Sam asked.

  “We went over the whole second floor and up to that little third floor room. What I can tell you is that there are three ways to get into the room where he died: the old doorway from the hall, the bathroom door, and the closet door. Both the bathroom and the closet were part of some renovation. They both open into that main bedroom and into the smaller bedroom next door.

  “And there’s that funny third floor room that has little stairs going up. It’s full of boxes and junk. There’s a door that looks just like a closet door in the hall, but it leads up to that room. Somebody could have hidden up there. It honestly would have helped if the stairs and floor hadn’t been cleaned yesterday. We might have a shoe print at least.”

  “So somebody could have been leaving by one door just as our ghost hunter was arriving by another,” Sam said.

  “Right, or somebody could have been hiding while you were right there, checking out what looked like a natural death.”

  “I hope not,” Sam said with a frown.

  Tucker Townsend had gotten control of his insecurity. He realized that Ben Barstow and Mallory had been close during a very difficult time, and, after all, Ben was her stepbrother, and it was quite reasonable for him to call when he was so nearby and found himself with an afternoon off. And of course, Ben Barstow liked Mallory. Everybody liked Mallory.

  Still, he stopped by the newspaper office after his first appointment of the afternoon. Novena greeted him by saying, “You just can’t stay away, can you?” and he grinned.

  Ben wasn’t there yet, and Mallory was so intent on her work that she didn’t notice him until Hunter said, “Hi, Tucker!” and Mallory turned around and smiled.

  “I’m trying to get the Lifestyle pages finished so I can leave early,” she said.

  They talked about pizza choices briefly and decided they might as well just go to the Pizza Palace where they could each choose their own.

  Mallory was just turning back to her work when the front door opened, and a tall, dark-haired man came in. He was wearing an expensive looking overcoat over an equally expensive looking suit, and his shoes gleamed.

  Mallory jumped up and said, “Ben!” She ran toward him, and he hugged her and swung her around in a circle.

  Tucker reminded himself that this was a sisterly-brotherly sort of hug, but still he sized Ben Barstow up, and if he had put it into words, the words would have been Taller than I am. Older than I am. Better looking than I am. Better dressed than I ever am. Makes more money than I make.

  “You look gorgeous,” Ben said to Mallory, stepping back with his hands on her shoulders to look at her. “You’ve changed your hair.”

  “Ben,” Mallory said, “This my boyfriend, Tucker Townsend.”

  Ben smiled. Tucker offered Ben his best bone-crushing handshake, kissed Mallory on the cheek, and said, “I know you’ve still got those pages to finish. Call me when you’re ready to go out and eat.”

  Novena and Hunter didn’t say goodbye. They were both welcoming Ben Barstow back to Merchantsville.

  It wasn’t until Tucker was getting into his truck that he noticed the Lexus with the Chatham county tag.

  At the courthouse, Stacy Vann was nervous and fidgety about being questioned, but still protective when it came to Lucasta Tilling.

  “We’ve been looking for your friend, Lucasta, all day,” Taneesha said. “Could she have left town? Do you know where her family lives?”

  “Her family lives in Ohio, and Lucasta wouldn’t just leave town,” she told Sam and Taneesha. “Well, she might, but not because of what happened last night, and I think she’d tell me because she has four cats that have to be looked after. She’ll show up. She’s just running errands or something. And she didn’t do anything wrong. Is finding a body a crime? It was a heart attack, wasn’t it? That’s what my sister said.”

  “Let’s talk about you,” Taneesha said calmly. “Start at the beginning. What’s your relationship to Lucasta Tilling?”

  “We’re friends. We used to work together at Dayco about five years ago,” Stacy said, relaxing a little. “We got to know each other then, and we found out we were both interested in horoscopes. I’m a Sagitarrius, and she’s a Scorpio. And then it turned out that she is so psychic. She would always know when something was worrying me, even though I was trying to stay cheerful. But anyway, I got the job at the Middle School, and later she inherited some money and just quit her job at Dayco and bought this little house she has on Morris Street. That’s when she started reading a lot about psychic things, and she really got into communicating with spirits. She read about this Paranormal Society somewhere in South Georgia. We both got interested and found out a lot about those groups on the internet. So we started one of our own. We’ve only got four members so far.”

  “Who are the others?” Sam asked.

  “Horace Elvin. He’s retired and lives next door to Lucasta. He’s the one who told us the most about the stories about Lillian McFall, but I really think he just comes over for the refreshments. And Tarquin Greathouse. He’s new here. He works at the hospital. I don’t know if he’s still a member, though. He didn’t come to the last two meetings.”

  Taneesha asked, “So why did the two of you go to the open house last night?”

  “We were looking for Lillian McFall,” Stacy said earnestly. “We didn’t even know Mr. Buzz McFall.”

  “You mean her ghost?” Taneesha asked.

  “It’s ‘spirit’ not ‘ghost,’” Stacy said primly. “I should have said we wanted to make contact with her spirit. It was such a sad love story. You know she died of grief. She was engaged to marry this boy, Wilbur Parks, and he was killed in some war. His name is on the monument on the courthouse grounds. Horace had told us that the McFalls, the ones who live there now, wouldn’t even talk about it. So, we just went to her grave at the cemetery, first. Then after I saw the big announcement in the paper that the public was welcome to the McFall house, I
called Lucasta, and she said it was probably our only chance to get into the house. That was last Wednesday. She started trying to communicate with Lillian telepathically every day after that.”

  “Why would she want to do that?” Sam asked.

  “Well, because Lillian’s an unsettled spirit,” Stacy said earnestly. “One who doesn’t move on to the next realm. I didn’t know the term until I met Lucasta, but I’ve heard about Lillian all my life. I’m almost certain I saw her once looking out the upstairs window at night, and other people have seen her wandering around the cemetery. Lucasta was hoping to help her find peace.”

  Sam sighed.

  “What did you do when you got to the house?” Taneesha asked.

  Stacy began to explain.

  “We had to change plans,” she said. “We thought the whole house would be open, but we got there, and they had the front stairs tied off, so we looked around and found the back stairs and they weren’t tied off.”

  “But you must have known they weren’t inviting people to go upstairs,” Sam said.

  “That’s what I thought,” Stacy admitted. “Lucasta said it was our one chance, and she would go up there anyway. I told her I wouldn’t, but I’d wait around while she did. She’s very brave. She said she was going up to the third-floor turret if she could find the stairs.

  “So anyway, we watched, and finally, it seemed like everybody was downstairs, and it must be about time for the man—Mr. McFall—to make his speech or whatever he was going to do—and Lucasta went tip-toeing upstairs..”

  “And you stayed downstairs?”

  “Yes, I did, and I thought the man with the gray hair who started talking must be Mr. McFall, so I’d better at least look like I was there to listen to him, and then I heard him introduce himself and say that Mr. McFall had gone upstairs.”

  She swallowed and went on. “So, I got scared for Lucasta, and I went up there to see if I could warn her. I knew she wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Stacy said. “But I could see that Mr. McFall might run into her and not understand … you know.”

  “Yes,” Taneesha said, “He might not have understood. So what did you see when you went up there?”

  “Nothing,” Stacy said. “I thought she might be all the way up in the turret, but I didn’t know where those stairs were. I got panicked, and finally I just called out to her. I thought if Mr. McFall came out, I could just tell him I was looking for my friend, that she had come upstairs to find a bathroom.”

  She took a deep breath and clasped her hands together.

  “He didn’t show up either, so then I thought maybe he’d already gone downstairs the front way. I mean everybody was waiting for him. So, I called her again twice. And then I heard her screaming. She came running out the door of that front bedroom screaming, and I called to her again, but she was screaming and didn’t hear me, and she started down the big stairs to the front, so I ran downstairs the back way but I, uh, “ she looked at Taneesha and then at Sam uneasily.

  “You fell on the stairs and hurt your ankle,” Taneesha said. “Right?”

  “Right,” Stacy said. She was close to tears.

  “I’m sorry. I should have just told you the truth to start with, but I was worried about Lucasta’s getting in trouble.”

  “Are you telling us the truth now?” Taneesha asked.

  “Yes, I’ll swear on a Bible. Anyway, when I got downstairs, she was gone already. Sheriff Bailey, your wife helped me. Well, I guess she’s the one who told you I was there. I know now that Lucasta must have found Mr. McFall’s body and she was really terrified.”

  “Have you talked to her since then?” Sam asked. “Did she tell you that?”

  “No. I haven’t been able to reach her. I knew about his dying of a heart attack from my sister. Her husband works at the hospital.”

  “Does Lucasta know you fell and hurt your ankle?”

  “I guess not. We came in separate cars, and she left before I even got to the front of the house.”

  “I think we’re done here,” Sam said “Shellie called your sister Candy. She and her husband are waiting outside to take you to their house. We want you to stay with her until after we’ve talked with Lucasta. You need to stay off that ankle, anyway.”

  “Oh, why did you call them?” Stacy said, bursting into tears. “I’ll never hear the end of this now.”

  Chapter 13

  It was about ten minutes before four o’clock when Sam finished briefing District Attorney Sanders Beale and T.J. Jackson, who was an investigator for Beale’s office and on friendly terms with Sam. Nobody had located Lucasta Tilling.

  Reporters and cameramen from two of the area’s three television stations were waiting in the courtroom. Shellie came in and said, “I just got a call from the Macon Telegraph reporter. Apparently, he saw Channel Seven’s van over on Literary Lane. He wanted to know if we had moved the press conference.”

  “Probably they were getting some shots of the house,” Sam said. “I hope they didn’t bother the family.”

  “Are we in agreement that we’re going to play down the screaming woman?” Sanders Beale asked when Shellie left.

  “Well, we’re investigating that part of it, “ Sam said. “Let’s wait and see what they ask. I think we can just confirm that a guest at the Open House discovered the body and was upset. If they ask for her name, we can give it.”

  The press conference began smoothly enough.

  Sam began with his usual introductions and a straightforward factual summary of the known facts he was willing to share, which did not include information about the blue pillow, but did include the fact that the cause of death was suspicious, and an investigation was underway. Sanders Beale assured everyone that the full resources of his office would be made available to Sheriff Bailey’s team.

  The reporter from Channel Seven had arrived late with a cameraman hurrying behind her. She was a slender blonde named Marlee Maxie, with a tendency to smile quite often regardless of the nature of the news. She asked the first question.

  “Sheriff Bailey, you said earlier that a guest at the open house discovered the body,” she said with a bright smile. “Will you confirm that this guest was a psychic named Lucasta Tilling who is assisting in the investigation.”

  She smiled again.

  Sam didn’t smile.

  “Yes,” he said, “Lucasta Tilling, a resident of Merchantsville, was the first to discover the body, but I was not aware that she considers herself a psychic.”

  “So you doubt her psychic abilities?” the reporter asked with another dazzling smile. “We have just interviewed her, and she claims that she found the body because a ghost called her to that room.”

  There were murmurs and a ripple of laughter around the room.

  “I have no comment on that,” Sam said. “We plan to talk with her about what she saw and heard. Does anyone else have a question on another subject than Miss Tilling?”

  “They just interviewed her?” T.J. Jackson whispered to Taneesha. “I thought nobody could find her.”

  “I’m going to go find her now,” Taneesha whispered back.

  “I’ll go with you,” T.J. said when they got to the hall, “I’m thinking he probably caught her poking around, and that caused his heart attack, and she finished him off with that pillow.”

  Taneesha made no comment. T.J. Jackson was Sam’s friend, and always ready to help with Magnolia County investigations. He could even turn up useful information, but, in her opinion, he was very quick to play Sherlock Holmes with insufficient evidence.

  Chapter 14

  Lucasta Tilling didn’t get to watch her television debut on the six o’clock news. She had already been picked up at her home for questioning , and was in the conference room, waiting while everyone in the courthouse except Deputy Aaron Whitchell watched Channel Seven.

  The first thing S
am and the others saw on the television set in his office was a dark-haired woman. She was standing on the sidewalk with the McFall house in the background. The sun was already getting low, and the house looked gloomy under the gray sky.

  It took Sam a moment to realize that it was the woman he had caught at the bottom of the stairs the night before.

  Her hair was done differently—all fluffed up—and she was wearing black boots and a black dress that was a little too short. She had a dramatic red and black scarf tossed casually over one shoulder and seemed to be shivering in the cold.

  And, of course, she wasn’t in a state of terror as she had been the night before. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

  “And then,” she said with great drama, “I heard Lillian’s spirit calling, and she led me directly to the body of Buzz McFall. I took one look. I knew he was dead. I could feel the evil lurking in that room. And I fled.”

  Then the scene changed, and Sam and Sanders Beale were on the screen at their press conference.

  Beale, who was watching with the others, snorted.

  “I can’t believe they put that hysterical female on first,” he said.

  Aaron Whitchell had been assigned to keep his eye on Lucasta Tilling while the others watched the television interview. She was sitting at one end of the conference table with her palms flat on the table, her eyes closed and her chin tilted upward. He sat at the other end of the table, flipping through a copy of Sports Illustrated and thinking how smug his wife, Nancy, was going to be when he got home. He hadn’t told Sam about that call, but he knew exactly where Lucasta Tilling had gotten her hair all fluffed up.

  “I know how it happened, “ T.J. Jackson said to Sam after they had watched Lucasta’s performance on the news. “She was sneaking around upstairs, maybe even had something in her hand that she was stealing, and Buzz caught her in the act. He was already in bad shape, and collapsed, and she took advantage of that. Maybe she even knocked the pill bottle out of his hand and pushed him. Then she grabbed the pillow from the bed. After that, she figured out how to make a publicity stunt of it.”

 

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