by Peg Herring
Through DeMestrie’s eyes, Seamus saw Carmon Calley, Abe Gougeon, and James Falk standing next to the old grease pit. Falk held a gun. He seemed disoriented, but the image wasn’t static. Things happened quickly.
In a perfect example of football at its best, Abe tackled Falk at the knees, eliciting a loud grunt from each of them. The gun flew from Falk’s hand and skittered across the floor. Falk fell with a whoosh of breath onto the cement. Abe landed on top of him, somewhat out of control from the force of his rush. Though he flailed to free himself, Falk couldn’t compete with Abe’s youth and size. Instead of giving up, however, he reached out for the gun, which lay just out of his reach.
Carmon, who had seemed frozen, jolted into action, kicking the weapon away with a metallic clatter.
DeMestrie took breath to announce his presence just as she shouted “No!”
Daryl Talbert was halfway out of the pit, his face scraped and bloody. He reached for the gun Carmon had kicked aside, grunting with effort until his fingertips touched the smooth metal of the barrel.
Then he disappeared, his hands frantically grasping at the concrete floor as he fell back into the pit. A curse followed, accompanied by a yelp of pain. Soon Talbert’s hands and head appeared again.
“Police officer! Stop right there.”
Talbert froze, looking past the others to where DeMestrie stood. With a sigh, he lowered his head to the pit’s concrete edge in defeat.
Carmon asked, her voice shaky, “Shall I bring you Mr. Falk’s gun, Detective?”
“Yes, Miss Calley. Butt first, if you will.” Nodding toward Talbert, hanging on the edge of the grease pit like a cat on a tree branch, he asked, “Does he have a gun too?”
“Jaime,” said a voice from the pit. “I’ve got it.”
DeMestrie’s face lit. “Chuck, is that you?”
“You got any candy bars on you, Partner? I could sure use something to eat.”
Jaime searched his pockets, for once finding nothing edible in any of them.” As soon as I cuff these gents, I’ll send for an ambulance and a pizza. Does that sound good?”
“Just bring me up where I can see the sun. I’m sick of the smell of old grease.”
Seamus made a decision. DeMestrie would need all of his strength to deal with the two criminals, and Seamus wanted to learn things the detective might never know. He gathered himself for a jump as Carmon approached to hand over Falk’s weapon.
When Carmon gasped, Abe, who had regained his feet, put a supporting arm around her waist. “Are you hurt?”
She smiled weakly. “A little woozy. Delayed reaction, I guess.” She took a deep breath. “Did you see—I mean—I thought I saw—” She stopped, unwilling to put into words the vision she had seen between her and Falk.
Inside her head a voice whispered, “Nothing. It was nothing.”
“What?” Abe asked, concerned. “You look as if you’d seen a ghost.”
“Nothing.” She pushed herself away from Abe and brushed at the thick layer of dust on his shirt. “Sorry to be a wuss.”
“It’s okay,” Abe said with a grin. “You can put your head on my shoulder any time.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Go Now In Peace
Tori stood on the deck, watching the colors change. The task she had set herself was done. She knew who was responsible for her death and why, but there was so much more to know. Her heart was heavy with the fear that things wouldn’t work out as she had hoped. Even if Abe and Carmon were safe, she’d never see their relationship grow, never learn if James Falk and Daryl Talbert were punished for their crimes, never know if Mani and Dee found good homes. It was as hard leaving the second time as it had been the first, though she’d tried to prepare herself for it.
Stop it! she chided herself. In the first place, you have no heart, so it can’t be heavy. No emotion, no longing, no curiosity can exist beyond this moment. Things there would go on without her, one way or another. She could change nothing.
Suddenly Seamus was beside her, his face as inexpressive as ever. He was silent for several seconds, and Tori figured he understood, having gone back many times, the unwillingness to let go of life, even though life had let go of them.
He pulled out a pack of Luckies and a box of matches. In the kind of quaint gesture she had come to expect from him, he raised his brows, asking tacitly for permission to smoke. She shrugged. What could it hurt either of them now?
“You did real good,” he said finally. “Your, uh, performance was enough to rattle Falk. Then the other cop and me showed up, so things worked out.”
“That’s good to hear. Thank you.”
“I stayed on a while, and that Abe guy? He asked the girl if she’d reconsider the trip to—was it Ludington?” Tori nodded. “She seemed real happy he asked.”
Tori smiled into the mists around her. Carmon would have her chance with Abe, and those responsible for her death would be punished. “Anybody mention cats?”
He thought about it. “She said something about her brother wanting to keep them.”
“That’s good. I don’t think Carmon can deny Cory anything.”
“She seems pretty proud of him.”
Tori laid a hand on Seamus’ arm. “I appreciate your staying behind to see the finish. And telling me about Abe and Carmon.”
“That’s okay,” Seamus replied. “They make a nice couple.”
“I always thought they would.” After a short silence she asked, “Do you think the Pearly Gates are really pearl?”
He blew smoke like a dragon. “They gotta be made of something, don’t they?”
“I suppose.”
He waited a few moments, but she said no more. “You going on, then?”
She turned to him, her face earnest. “I’m not like you, Seamus. I can’t imagine going back again and again. It’s not the pain so much, it’s…”
He stared out over the railing with a faraway look. “You mean it’s not that pain.”
“You feel it, too? But you keep going back.”
The homely face turned to hers and he smiled this time, a real smile that changed his face to--not handsome, certainly, but different. Warm, almost alive.
“Don’t you see? Going back and being part of them, seeing what they see and sensing what they feel, it makes me feel human. That’s all I want, to feel human again. And I’ll do whatever it takes, as often as I can.”
Tori understood what he meant, but she was different. Life was over for her. She was ready to report to Nancy that she’d made her peace with life. And with death.
Sensing her thought, Seamus said, “It isn’t for you, this in-between stuff. I’d never expect you to stick around here.” He put a hand out, almost shyly, and Tori shook it. “I never had a partner before, but it wasn’t so bad. I mean, if they were all like you—You did real good.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty amazing yourself.” She paused. “How did you escape from that pit if Madison was down there all alone?”
He hesitated but apparently decided she deserved to know. “I used a rat. But that isn’t something you need to tell anybody, hear?”
“I won’t,” Tori promised. “Soon I won’t even remember.”
Seamus looked into the distance for a while. Turning to Tori once more, he said, “But I’ll remember you.”
She looked down at the railing, embarrassed at the simple statement of affection. When she looked up again, Seamus was gone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Peg Herring lives in Michigan and writes both historical and contemporary mysteries. When not reading or writing, Peg loves travel. She and her husband also garden, mostly for the benefit of elk, deer, rabbits, and birds in the area, and work to keep their century-old farmhouse from crumbling around them.
About the Dead Detective Mysteries
Dead Detective Mystery #2: Dead for the Money
Seamus is asked to investigate the death of a wealthy man who fears his beloved nephew might have murdered him. Seamus fin
ds plenty of suspects, along with a young girl in need of a friend. When she ends up on the Mackinac Bridge, running desperately to escape the killer, Seamus wants to help. He also wants to believe his host won’t fall and leave him lost for eternity between life and what comes after.
Dead Detective Mystery #3 Dead for the Show
When Cassie Parker refuses to believe she’s dead, Seamus is sent back to Life to learn how she met her fate. The answer is murder, but the motive for killing the wardrobe mistress of a small theatre in Toronto isn’t clear. What soon becomes apparent is that Cassie’s sister Christy is in danger of following her twin to the Afterlife. In addition, there’s a presence in the old theatre that makes Seamus ask himself: Can a dead guy be haunted, and if so, is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Dead Detective Mystery #4 Dead to Get Ready—and Go (coming in 2016)
No longer satisfied with existence on the ship, Seamus recognizes it’s time to re-visit his own death and learn why he was murdered. He knows who drowned him in Lake Michigan—his beloved wife and his best friend—but questions have bothered him since that night in 1953. With Ronnie’s support, Seamus is determined to finally face the truth—no matter how painful that truth might be.
