Rear View (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 0)

by Catie Rhodes

  “All the stuff I experienced on my own was bad enough.” Alice spoke again without taking her gaze off Felicia. “But then there was Chris.”

  “What about him?” Rainey lost her professional news anchor voice altogether. Dread laced her voice.

  “He met a man who’d lived in the carriage house, older gent. This man told him about some weird stuff he experienced. Like putting a metal object near the broom closet and having the object get pulled in there. Or putting a plate of food at the door and having it be just blackened mush the next day.”

  “That’s called mildew.” Felicia sang out the words as though she’d just outsmarted all of us.

  Everybody stared at her for a brief second and refocused on Alice.

  “In less than eight hours?” Alice stared at Felicia, the sweet little old lady gone, the street-hardened prostitute she’d once been in her place. She glared until Felicia developed an interest in biting her fingernails. “Anyway, if Chris wasn’t up at that bar jawing about the treasure, he was fiddling around, seeing what he could get that closet to do. I finally told him I was moving on with or without him. To my surprise, he agreed. He’d seen a strange man around town asking questions. Chris thought maybe he was looking for us, sent by the outfit we stole that money from. We packed up and planned to head out at daybreak the next morning.”

  “That was the night Chris disappeared?” Rainey leaned so far forward in her lawn chair her elbows were almost on Alice’s knees. They both stroked the dog as though it was some sort of safeguard against spooky stuff.

  Alice nodded and clicked her tongue. “I went on up to bed, and Chris said he was going to get a glass of water. I knew what he really wanted to do was mess with that broom closet some more. See, that old man believed the Mace Treasure was hidden somewhere in the vicinity of the closet. Believed something in it messed with the electromagnetic fields or some such rubbish. Chris still hoped he’d find it. I heard a door slam and went to check on him. He was gone. Never saw him again.”

  Silence filled the little porch, so chilly and solemn it almost had its own presence. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to hear more.

  Felicia arranged her face into a quasi-apologetic smile. “This is a really entertaining story, but I’ve got tell you I don’t believe much of it.” She glanced around the group. Nobody protested. She took the silence as an invitation to continue. “My religion talks about false prophets and says to watch for them and call them out for what they are, and I just—”

  “Why don’t you shut up?” The words came out of my mouth almost as though someone else said them for me.

  “Wha-wha-what did you say to me, you freak of nature?”

  “Shut up.” My voice got louder on its own. “Nobody made you queen of all that’s good and decent.”

  “Peri Jean—” Rainey’s voice had an edge to it, but I ignored her.

  “You need to get over yourself, Felicia. There’s a big world out there, one where not everybody thinks just like you.” I stopped my tirade there. Rainey was right. I needed to do my own shutting up. Felicia glanced at Chase and then at Tubby, as though waiting for someone to defend her. Nobody did. She ran off the porch and jumped in Chase’s Tahoe. Great. I want to ride all the way back to Gaslight City with her almost as much as I want to spend another year in high school.

  “I am sorry for Peri Jean’s outburst, Mrs.—Miss Alice.” Rainey’s hands flew like hysterical birds, punctuating and embellishing her words.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Alice winked at me. “I wondered when you’d have enough of that little gal.” She chuckled.

  “I have a question if it’s okay.”

  “We don’t need to trouble Miss Alice any further.” Rainey glared at me.

  “Go ahead.” Alice fixed her gaze on me, as though daring me to let Rainey bully me into silence.

  “Was the man Chris talked to about the carriage house a Mr. Dowthitt?” I wasn’t even sure why I cared, other than maybe wanting to tie up all the loose ends.

  Alice made a face as she thought. Finally she shook her head. “I don’t remember if I ever knew his last name. He was introduced to me as James. I do remember he was a teacher. Does that help any?”

  It felt like a lightning bolt hit me in the chest. “Yes, ma’am. It sure does.”

  Alice checked her watch. “I hate to cut this short, but Gidget’s got a beauty shop appointment pretty soon.”

  “No problem.” Rainey stood, clicked off the camera, and started packing. “I really appreciate the time you spent with us.”

  Tubby, Chase, and I said our thank-yous and gave Gidget a goodbye pet. We helped Rainey take the equipment to her car and load it inside. Felicia refused to come out of Chase’s Tahoe.

  Tubby opened the door and leaned inside. “Get out, skank.” He jerked one thumb over his shoulder.

  Chase gave me an apologetic grimace and walked over to his vehicle. He nudged Tubby out of the way and spoke in a low voice to Felicia. He joined Rainey and me at the Cadillac a few minutes later.

  “She’s embarrassed and won’t come out.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “I’ll get her out.” I figured I’d grab her by the ear and twist until she got her butt in gear.

  Chase shrugged and pressed his lips together. “She’s just insecure.”

  “And a brat.” Rainey crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Maybe the two of you could get along enough to ride back to Gaslight City together?” Chase stroked my arm but kept his distance in case my teeth came out.

  “All this so she’ll call her cousin?” I couldn’t believe he would blow off the first chance we’d had to go somewhere together so easily.

  Chase flushed and shrugged.

  “Just ride home with me,” Rainey muttered.

  I glared at Chase, then at the Tahoe for several seconds, and slumped into Rainey’s Cadillac.

  * * *

  I leaned my forehead against the passenger side window and watched the pine trees whiz past, lost in a full-on sulk. Rainey drove several miles before she spoke. “You telling Felicia off. That can’t happen again, not in front of someone we interview. I don’t even know how I’m going to edit around you two’s idiocy.” She glanced at me, maybe expecting a sorry, maybe expecting a fuck you.

  She wouldn’t get either one. I was tired of this whole business, ready to throw my hands up and holler uncle. The Chris Leeland missing person case looked more and more like a remake of some silly horror movie. Felicia was making a play for my boyfriend and winning. My give-a-shit had a big, ugly crack in it.

  Rainey drove some more, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. I kept staring straight in front of me and pretended not to notice. The longer I ignored Rainey, the more fidgety she got. She finally pulled off the road in front of a gas station.

  “You mad now? Not speaking to me?” Her voice carried a sing-songy note of smart-ass.

  I gathered my purse and got out of the car. “I’m getting an Icee. Do you want anything?”

  “Diet Seven-up.” Her shoulders rounded.

  I went into the store and did my business, choosing a cherry-flavored Icee over the Coke flavor. I caught myself humming the song Chase sang to Judge Bruce the previous day and even asked the cashier how her day was. Getting Rainey Bruce’s goat tasted better than a thousand ice cream sundaes. I got back into the car and pushed Rainey’s drink at her. She wouldn’t look at me when she took it and burned rubber leaving the parking lot.

  It took her another twenty miles to speak again. “Will you at least tell me why you keep asking about James Dowthitt? He’s the teacher who supposedly haunts the high school building, right?”

  I didn’t want to tell her. She’d either make fun of me, or she’d say I was crazy. I wanted no part of either.

  “I’m not giving up until you tell me.” Rainey reached over and gave me a hard poke. “So you best stop ignoring me.”

  “I saw Mr. Dowthitt’s ghost at the carriag
e house the day we met Benny Longstreet there.” I paused, waiting for her to start some crap. She held her silence. “Usually I only see him at the high school. I wondered why he was there, what it meant in the grand scheme of things.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t just get freaked out in that nasty little carriage house?” She glanced away from the road and held up one hand. “No shame if you did. It’s a creepy old place. I wanted to get the hell out myself.”

  “Why don’t you ask if I’d like to get some psychological tests run next? Then I can holler Gaslight City Bingo.” I crossed my arms over my chest and clenched my fists, suddenly cold.

  Rainey blew out a loud breath. “You know why nobody likes you? It’s not because you can see ghosts. It’s because you’re so defensive and nasty.”

  “Are you a fan of John Hughes’s movies?” My body clenched against the hysteria building in me. “Because if you are, I’m here to tell you the world doesn’t really work like that. People aren’t good deep down. They’re assholes through and through, and once they decide you’re a speck of bird shit, they’ll do anything they can to wipe you out.” I glared at her, wishing I could vaporize her with my eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are talking shit to me like this? Nobody likes you either, Rainey Bruce.”

  “All right. All right. This isn’t going to help either one of us.” She gripped the wheel with both hands, the skin on her knuckles turning white. “I felt left out of the loop when you asked about Mr. Dowthitt. Then you never explained why you asked, and I got mad. So I was nasty.”

  I stared at the road and didn’t speak.

  “Now it’s your turn to apologize to me,” Rainey nearly yelled.

  “I’m sorry I got defensive. And I’m sorry I didn’t explain.” I took the iron key Memaw gave me out of my pocket and twirled it between my fingers.

  “Asking about James Dowthitt is not a complete screw-up. It’s actually an extra avenue we can explore for this project.” Rainey’s cheerfulness sounded forced, but the effort was nice. “His widow still lives in Gaslight City. She hasn’t even been retired that long. Mr. Stubblefield took over her position at the high school, and he’s only been there two years. If she’s not busy, we could probably talk to her today.”

  “I don’t want to talk ghosts and haunting and magic eight-balls.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to. That’s the direction this project is going.”

  I rankled at her tone. She sounded like Memaw. I might take orders from my grandmother, but I sure wasn’t taking orders from Rainey Bruce. “I know you don’t give a shit about anybody except yourself, but do you realize what Felicia’s going to do with all that went on today? Especially the haunted house stuff?”

  “I don’t care what she does. She’s a speck of fly dung on the radar of my life.” Rainey smirked at me. “Should be on yours too. Letting her get you all tied up in knots is exactly what she lives for.”

  “Do you not remember her and Lanelle knocking your books out of your arms at school yesterday morning? Believe me, that’s mild compared to what they can do.”

  Rainey swallowed hard. “Felicia never has to know about this new information until the project is turned in three weeks from now. There’ll only be another month to graduation.”

  “How can we keep her from knowing? Won’t she want to see the finished project?”

  Rainey didn’t answer for several seconds. I turned to her. The conflicting thoughts drifted over her face. “She might. But I’m thinking she won’t. If she presses me too hard, I’ll tell her I have a bunch of last minute work, imply she needs to help, and she’ll drop it.”

  “Don’t we at least need help getting the cameras set up?” I was grasping for excuses, and I knew it. I just wanted to go home and hole up in my bedroom to sulk about Felicia being with Chase this evening while I was stuck at home.

  “Wouldn’t the extra work be worth not having Felicia there?” She turned onto Farm Road 4077 where Memaw and I lived. “Tell you what. I’ll make it worth your while if you help me.”

  “How so?” I didn’t know anything Rainey could offer that would change my feelings.

  “I’m willing to bet Chase and company are holed up at Bullfrog’s Billiards. You said Chase got a job there playing Friday and Saturday nights, right?”

  I nodded.

  She pulled up in front of the chain-link fence surrounding Memaw’s house. “We’ll drive by. See if that death trap he drives is in the parking lot. If so, we’ll let Mrs. Brent know what her baby’s up to.”

  A slow smile spread over my face. I nodded. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  Rainey and I went into the house through the back door. I rinsed out my Icee cup in the sink and threw it away. Memaw came into the kitchen.

  “What happened between you and Chase? Lover’s quarrel?” She came closer, peered into my eyes, and muttered, “Boy, I hope so.”

  “More stuff with Felicia,” Rainey said. “Peri Jean and I figured out another angle for the project. We were thinking about interviewing James Dowthitt’s widow. He used to live in the carriage house and knew Chris Leeland.”

  “That right?” Memaw poured a cup of cold coffee and stuck it in the microwave to warm.

  “You think she’d talk to us, Miss Leticia?”

  “I think Sharon Dowthitt would love the company. She’s lonely.” Memaw left her coffee preparations and grabbed her purse off the chair next to the back door. She took out her address book and flipped through. “I can call her right now if you’re serious.”

  “Thank you, Miss Leticia.” Rainey ran to Memaw and hugged her. She turned to me. “You know, you have the best grandmother.”

  I nodded. All the ways I’d been an ass lately popped into my mind. Shame burned at the corners of the memories. I needed to do better.

  Chapter 6

  I held a paper plate full of sugar cookies on my lap for Mrs. Dowthitt. Rainey and I drove the ten miles to Gaslight City, passed through the downtown, and entered a neighborhood of tract houses built in the early 1970s. We found number 10988 and parked in the driveway behind a shit-brown Sierra Cutlass that practically screamed “I belong to an old lady.”

  Mrs. Dowthitt already had the front door open before we managed to unload the equipment from the car. “We’ll, I’ll be. It’s Hooty Bruce’s daughter and Paul Mace’s daughter. I taught both your fathers. Unbelievable that was long enough ago for them to have daughters who are almost grown.”

  Rainey and I stood on the stoop, neither of us completely sure what to say. Mrs. Dowthitt stepped aside and held open the door, motioning us in with one bony, blue veined hand.

  “Leticia said you ladies want to talk about my late husband’s experiences with the Mace Carriage House.” Mrs. Dowthitt motioned us into the living room, pointing to a plastic-covered, floral print couch.

  Belatedly, I handed her the plate of cookies. “Memaw sent you these. She just baked them today.”

  “Oooh, Leticia Gregson Mace’s sugar cookies. Let me make us a pot of coffee. Y’all go on and sit down.” She gestured at the couch again.

  Rainey and I set up the camera equipment and then sat on the couch, both of us staring at the cheap paneling on the walls and the outdated TV console broadcasting a game show in the corner.

  “She think we’re here for a tea party?” Rainey whispered. The smell of coffee brewing came from the kitchen.

  “Memaw does this when people visit.” I wrinkled my nose and tried to get comfortable on the couch, but my every movement made the plastic cry out in protest. Finally I held my breath and sat as still as possible.

  Mrs. Dowthitt hustled back into the room, carrying an ornate silver tray on which she’d arranged the cookies. She went back into the kitchen and came back out carrying a second silver tray with coffee cups and a silver carafe. I began to think Rainey had a point. The older lady ceremoniously poured us each a cup of coffee in delicate cups and offered us the sugar cookies.

  She ate a bite of cookie and too
k a sip of coffee before she began to speak. “I grew up in Port Arthur and taught there a few years but moved to Gaslight City after my divorce. I actually knew Janis Joplin in passing. Y’all know who that is?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “My daddy had some of her albums on cassette.” I didn’t add the music wasn’t my taste. Daddy’s 38 Special cassettes were better.

  “Did you and Mr. Dowthitt live in the Mace Carriage House?” Rainey barely kept the impatience out of her voice. “Or did he live there alone?”

  “I met James the first year I taught at Gaslight City High.” Mrs. Dowthitt acted like she didn’t even hear Rainey’s question. “He was living at the carriage house then. We had a whirlwind romance, got married, and I moved in with him. He loved it there, loved the lore surrounding the Mace Treasure. He thought the carriage house had something to do with the treasure, maybe held a clue. He just couldn’t figure out what. I loved James’s boyish imagination. Even with him being gone better than twenty years, I still miss him.”

  “Did you like living in the carriage house?” Rainey tapped her pen on her notebook.

  “I didn’t like that place from the first second I stepped inside.” Mrs. Dowthitt made a sour face and set aside her coffee. “That was when James and I were just dating.”

  Alice’s experiences came back to me. “Did you have any weird experiences there?”

  “I didn’t see ghosts, if that’s what you’re asking.” She raised her eyebrows at me as though she’d caught me trying to play a joke on her. “In fact, I never heard any rumors of the carriage house’s being haunted until after Chris Leeland disappeared. The place went down after that. Nobody decent wanted to rent it.” She picked up her coffee cup again but didn’t drink. “I told you James loved the lore about the Mace Treasure. That’s how he and Chris Leeland became friends. Leticia mentioned on the phone your project is on the Chris Leeland disappearance, so I assume your interest in James is pertaining to that?”