by Jana DeLeon
“If something doesn’t come up in the next six months or so, I may try to find a builder. I wasn’t keen on buying when I first came here. I wanted to see how the job worked out…and the people.”
He nodded. “You’ve fit right in on both counts. Seems like you’ve always been here.”
“Ha. Not if you’re a male chauvinist criminal.”
“They don’t count.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You’ve always gotten a kick out of my being a woman, haven’t you?”
Yeah, a mule kick in the heart.
“Let’s just say, I have a perverse sense of humor and enjoy watching these hard-core manly men trying to wrangle with you and coming up short.”
She grinned. “Well, since I enjoy the wrangling, I guess it’s a win for both of us.”
They chatted about building houses and the case, and speculated on Maryse’s hotel imprisonment over dinner. Colt was surprised to find how easy it was to be with Jadyn, especially when he stopped overthinking things. He hadn’t been lying when he said it felt like she’d always been there. Not so much that he felt like he’d known her forever, but that he had a comfort level with her that was reserved only for people he’d known since childhood.
When the waitress came to clear the dishes, he switched back to cop mode. He showed the waitress his badge and explained who Jadyn was.
The waitress’s eyes widened. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “We’re looking for information on Clifton Vines. Has he been in here recently?”
“Sure, he’s always here for…” She frowned. “That’s weird. He’s always here for chicken-fried steak night, but he wasn’t this week.”
“And he’s pretty consistent with that schedule?” Colt asked.
“Only missed one day in the twelve years I’ve been working here, and that was the time he put a hook through his hand and had to go to the hospital and have it removed. Did something happen to him?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. We had a boat wash up in a cove this morning in Mudbug and we’re trying to figure out if it belonged to Clifton.”
Her hand flew up and covered her mouth. “Oh no! I hope nothing bad happened to him. He’s not a big talker, but he’s polite, and always leaves a good tip.”
Colt pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “If you hear anything that might be of help, please let me know.”
She took the card and stuck it in her apron. “Sure.” She pointed to a table near the front of the café, occupied by two weather-beaten men. “You may want to ask those two men about it. I think Clifton uses the same dock.”
“Great. Thanks.”
She nodded and hustled away from the table, her previous smile now replaced with worry.
Colt pulled some bills from his wallet and picked up the ticket. “You ready?” he asked.
Jadyn nodded and they headed for the two men.
“Excuse me,” Colt said when they stopped at the table.
The two men looked up, giving him a wary eye.
Colt introduced himself and Jadyn, then explained about the boat and why they were trying to track down Clifton. The two men looked at each other and one of them sighed.
“We tried to tell him not to go out yesterday. I got about fifty yards from the dock before I got hit by wind shear. Can’t control a boat well in that kind of weather.”
The other man nodded. “And fishing ain’t good besides. Clifton and I both got to the dock when Stumpy here was coming back in. He told us how bad it was. Stumpy ain’t no girl about things, so I figured it was as good a day as any to watch TV and drink beer.”
“But Clifton went out?” Jadyn asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Stumpy said. “I did my best to warn him but he was determined that he wasn’t going to lose a day of work to Mother Nature. Can’t stop a man from being a fool.”
“Unfortunately true,” Colt agreed. “Were either of you at the dock today?”
“Sure,” Stumpy said. “Today was a great day for fishing. We both headed out early.”
“Did you see Clifton or his boat at the dock?” Jadyn asked.
The two men looked at each other and frowned. Then they both slowly shook their heads.
“His boat wasn’t there when I left,” Stumpy said. “I figured he’d gone out before me.”
“Didn’t see him this evening either,” the other man said. “And I came in pretty late. Got held up a bit at the shrimp house.”
Jadyn pulled out her phone and showed them the pictures of the boat. The men looked at the pictures and their expressions darkened.
“It looks like Clifton’s,” Stumpy said.
“It’s his,” the other man said and pointed to the phone. “Look at the net on the right side. That’s the one that snapped during the hurricane last year. See the weld midway? Ain’t no one else got a weld like that in that location except Clifton.”
Stumpy shook his head. “Don’t look like the boat fared too well. I guess you ain’t found Clifton or you wouldn’t be asking.”
“I’m afraid not,” Colt said. “But at least now we know who the boat belonged to and can launch a search party.”
Stumpy gave him a skeptical look. “I hate to say it, but I don’t know that you’re going to have much luck a day later.”
“I know,” Colt agreed, “but we have to try.”
Stumpy nodded. “I got some time and a good flat-bottom boat. If you need some volunteers.”
“Me too,” the other man said.
“We can use all the help we can get,” Colt said. “Can you meet at the dock at the sheriff’s department in Mudbug tomorrow morning at eight? I’ll see how many volunteers show up, then divvy up the search areas accordingly.”
Both men nodded.
“Thanks for your help,” Colt said and headed to the register to pay. As they walked outside, he sighed. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
“You don’t think he’s alive,” Jadyn said.
“The chances are so slim, they’re not worth calculating.”
“The chances were slim for Raissa too, but she’s safe and sound.”
“True, but this is different. One man, alone in that storm…it’s a recipe for disaster, and with no one to help.”
“We’ll hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”
“The staple of law enforcement.” He stopped with Jadyn at her Jeep. “Hey, be careful. We don’t know why someone took a shot at you, and until we know it was random or he mistook you for someone else, we need to proceed as if you were the target.”
Jadyn nodded. “I’ll be extra watchful.”
He stared at her, fighting the urge to gather her in his arms and hold her tight until this case was solved. But that would leave no one on the job. Instead, he leaned down and brushed his lips lightly against hers. Her eyes widened but she didn’t move away.
“Call me if you see or hear anything odd,” he said. “I’ll have my cell phone on me.”
He turned around and headed to his truck. He’d just unlocked a can of worms…again. The difference was, this time he was going to leave it open, and consequences be damned.
Chapter Eight
Sabine turned around the closed sign on the front door of her shop and joined Maryse and Helena in her corner sitting area. All Maryse had said in the somewhat frantic phone exchange they’d had minutes earlier was that she had an emergency and needed Sabine to let her in the back door of the shop and close down for the day.
Maryse had disconnected before Sabine even had a chance to respond. Her lifelong friend was often short or distracted, but this time it felt abrupt, even for Maryse. She’d barely locked the front door and headed to the back when she heard sharp rapping. She unlocked the door and found herself face-to-face with a walking blanket.
Maryse guided the walking blanket inside and toward the front of the store. Sabine looked down at the feet, trying to get some idea of who was un
der the blanket, and blinked. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that glass of wine with lunch. She bent over a little as she went, trying to get a closer look, but the boots looked the same up close as they had from a distance.
At least that explained part of it. The walking blanket must be Helena.
She waved Maryse toward her reading corner, then drew all the blinds. Mudbug residents wouldn’t be able to see whatever was going on under that blanket, but they could see Sabine’s reaction to it. And she had a feeling it was going to be a doozy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Helena is having some problems with wardrobe,” Maryse explained. “Mildred and I think it’s due to stress. Her mind seems to be latching onto things she sees on television or hears someone say, and then when she goes to change clothes, she’s frantic and everything ends up a big ole mess.”
Sabine tried to process Maryse’s words. “Okay, so why the blanket?”
“Because she refused to leave the hotel without cover.”
“But no one else can see her.”
Maryse sighed. “I know.”
Sabine took a breath. Part of her thought “how bad could it be?” and then the other part reminded her they were talking about Helena. “Okay, so what do you want me to do?”
“We figure she needs to learn some relaxation techniques or something. It’s not like there’s a list for ghost shrinks in the phone book, but we thought since you know hypnosis and yoga and all that Zen stuff, you might be able to help.”
Sabine stared, trying to formulate a clear thought. Lord, how things had changed in a year. Back then, she was no more than a fake psychic running a small business with a pleasant repeat clientele. Now she was a fake psychic and about to play mental health professional to a ghost. It was a large leap, and a rather absurd one unless you considered that Helena Henry was part of the equation. Helena had single-handedly redefined absurd.
“I can certainly try,” Sabine said finally. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”
“That’s all anyone can ask,” Maryse said.
Sabine leaned forward. “Is she drugged or something?”
“No, why?”
“Because it’s not like Helena to go this long without talking.”
“Oh sure,” Helena said, “throw out the insults when I’m at an all-time low. Why don’t you go out and kick puppies when you’re done with me?”
Maryse rolled her eyes, and Sabine shook her head. This was going to be a handful.
“Well,” Sabine said, “I guess the first thing is I need to see her.”
Maryse grabbed the blanket on top of Helena’s head and tugged it off.
Since she’d already gotten a look at the footwear, Sabine expected bad or crazy or worse, but nothing could have prepared her for the pink-and-black zebra stripes, the turban, or the tennis racket. It couldn’t have been more confusing if she’d been trying.
“Oh my.” Sabine put her hand over her mouth and took it all in. “Have you figured out from where these items originated?”
Maryse nodded and explained their earlier conversation.
“That seems logical enough,” Sabine said.
“I’m glad you think so,” Helena said. “Because it seems like a helluva mess to me.”
“We’re going to try to fix that,” Sabine said, with that soothing voice she used on customers. “Why don’t you take a seat and I’m going to make you some hot tea. It will help you relax.”
Helena flopped in the chair and snatched the blanket from Maryse to cover herself. She was still grumbling under her breath about “sitting around half-nude” when Sabine headed for the break room, Maryse trailing behind.
Sabine poured water into the pot to heat and turned to face Maryse. “I take it I’ve gotten the short version. What else do I need to know?”
Maryse told her about a conversation she’d had with Jadyn that morning where Jadyn suggested that a lot of Helena’s problems might be boredom. She suggested the ghost needed a purpose for existing, even though she was visible to only a few. Then Maryse explained how Jadyn sent Helena to the beauty shop to eavesdrop.
Sabine frowned. “Didn’t a fight break out at the beauty salon today?”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think it worked out exactly how Jadyn had in mind, but I still think there’s some merit to her idea.”
“I agree. The key is figuring out in what capacity Helena can be both engaged and not detrimental.”
Maryse turned up her hands. “I got nothing.”
“I was afraid of that. While I agree with Jadyn in theory, I think we’re going to find it difficult to put in practice.”
“Do you want me to stick around or do you think she’ll be more cooperative if I’m not here?”
It was a question that didn’t have a straightforward answer. Cooperative and Helena were rarely used in the same paragraph, much less sentence. Maryse and Mildred were probably the closest to the ghost, but then Maryse had an acerbic tongue and sometimes lacked the ability to temper it.
“Let me have a go at her alone,” Sabine said. “If I can’t get anywhere, then we’ll try it again with you or Mildred present.”
“You’re sure?”
“No. I wouldn’t say I’m sure of anything. But I’m going to give it a try.”
“Okay. Call if you need me. I’ll be at the hotel doing next to nothing.”
Maryse looked so down that Sabine gave her a quick hug. “I know it’s killing you being locked up inside, but you’re doing the right thing.”
“I know. I just wish the ‘right thing’ wasn’t the exact opposite of what I want to be doing.” She gave Sabine a small smile before slipping out the back door.
Sabine locked the door behind Maryse and prepared two cups of tea, slipping in a little extra root for relaxation. She had a feeling both of them were going to need it.
Helena hadn’t moved since they’d left the room, which was almost disconcerting in itself. Normally, unless the ghost was eating, she didn’t sit still for very long. Sabine put the tea on the table beside her along with a container of sweetener and a spoon.
“I hope you like green tea,” Sabine said as she took a seat across from the ghost.
Helena nodded. “I didn’t figure I would because it’s supposed to be good for you, but I like the taste. There’s a lot of things I probably wouldn’t have liked when I was alive, but I never would give them a chance.”
“Does that bother you?” Sabine asked.
“Of course it bothers me. If you died and found out you’d wasted your life on bullshit that didn’t matter and being angry and bitter, wouldn’t it bother you?”
“I suppose I would have to take into account why I lived the way I did and make an honest assessment of how easily I could have changed things. Your life wasn’t an easy one, Helena. I know most people think because you had money that it was or should have been, but they didn’t live with your father. You had that one evil man feeding you garbage from the time you were a small child. Surely you don’t blame yourself for his abuse?”
Helena shook her head, a sad look on her face. “No. You can’t blame a child for their situation, but my father also died when I was a child. So what was my excuse then?”
“Well, for starters, no one got you the help you needed after his death, and someone should have.”
Helena shrugged. “No one knew how it was inside those walls.”
“The servants knew. Someone could have spoken up.”
“But they didn’t. After he died, the only thing people came to see me about was trying to get money.”
“Exactly,” Sabine said. “Which made you even more cynical and closed to relationships. Why wouldn’t you be? You had yet to encounter someone who was interested in you and not your money.”
Helena scrunched her brow. “I guess I hadn’t looked at it that way. I suppose it explains why I made the decisions I did, but it doesn’t excuse them.”
“I don’t think I’m trying to. You d
idn’t do anything illegal or ethically wrong.”
“Tell that to all the people I offended.”
“Offending someone is not automatically an ethics issue.”
“Even if I mean to?”
“Even if you mean to.” Sabine studied her for a moment, then asked the question she’d been longing to. “If your life here was so unfulfilling, then why did you come back?”
“I guess it doesn’t make much sense when you look at it that way, does it?” Helena sighed. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but I don’t think my life here really began until I died.”
“Why do you think that is?” Sabine had a good idea what the answer would be, but she wanted to hear Helena say it—to know that the ghost had processed that emotional information.
“Because I finally cared about someone other than myself. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I always looked out for Maryse because I promised her mother I would. Her mother was probably the only person I ever had a semblance of a real relationship with when I was alive. When I came back, things weren’t easy, especially with people coming after you, Maryse, and Raissa, but for the first time in my life, I formed relationships with people. Relationships that mattered.”
Helena shook her head and gave Sabine a sad look. “Except that it wasn’t really the first time in my life, was it? Because I was already dead.”
“Is that why you came back?”
“I guess so. I had this overwhelming feeling that I wasn’t done with this life. I know I mostly make everyone miserable, but I missed all of you. I thought if I returned, I could help make your lives better…you know, to try to make up for all the trouble I caused. But I just seem to create more trouble.”
Sabine raised an eyebrow. She didn’t doubt Helena’s sincerity at that moment, but the ghost had to know that a lot of her actions would cause trouble. Still, accusing her of being a troublemaker didn’t seem like the right course. Helena may be old and dead, but she seemed to have the emotional maturity of a child. Maybe it was as simple as her actions being either those of a bored, spoiled child or a cry for attention.
“I think the problem is an imbalance of assets,” Sabine said.
“What do you mean?”
