A Grave Mistake (8 page)

Jolene shut the laptop. She hadn’t found anything more on the boat than Jake had. “So all we really know is that one or more other parties are after the relic.”

“It must be more than one, because someone was killed, so there’s got to be at least two other groups,” Celeste said.

"Did you find out anything more about the victim?" Johanna asked. "Is he related to that archaeologist that Cal knows?"

"I looked into that," Cal said. "But Gunner Swain is very private. He keeps his family life close to the vest and there's nothing on his siblings. I don't really know him, either. I just know
of
him."

"And what do you know of him?" Johanna asked. "Is there a reason he would be involved in looking for the relic?"

Cal pressed his lips together. "I doubt it. As far as I know he's not involved in any paranormal stuff. He's made a lot of really great finds. Mostly Egyptian, Mayan and Aztec. He's quite wealthy. I don't see why he would have anything to do with it unless there is an important archeological find related to it."

Jolene raised a brow at her sisters. They were all thinking the same thing … there
was
an important find right below their house. Except Swain couldn't have known that—no one except them knew.

"Let's set that aside for now and talk about the groups that we do know are involved," Luke said.

Jolene nodded. "Good idea. There must be at least two groups, and one of them broke into the museum so they must have thought it was a clue just like we did.”

“The break-in could have been a coincidence,” Fiona said. “Kids or vandals, like Bernadette said.”

Morgan scrunched up her face. “No way. That would be too much of a coincidence. Besides, kids don’t steal old apothecary jars. That stuff has no value.”

“Right,” Jake agreed. “I don’t know of any meth lab that uses old chemistry equipment, despite Bernadette’s theory.”

“But why would whoever was looking for the relic take them?” Fiona asked.

“We need to see a list of all the items that were taken.” Jolene opened the laptop again. “Maybe I can look in the police database or someone can sweet-talk that information out of Brody. It’s possible they just grabbed whatever they could,
or
they took all the items to camouflage the one they were really after.”

“So no one would guess what the relic really is?” Celeste asked.

Jolene nodded as she tapped on the keyboard.

“Do you girls think the people that attacked you are the same ones who broke in?” Jake asked.

“We’re not sure,” Morgan replied. “It doesn’t seem likely that they would come back so soon.”

“Unless they found something in the items they took that pointed to the cornerstone,” Fiona added.

“We know whoever attacked us wasn’t with the licorice killer because he’d already been to the cornerstone,” Fiona said.

“So, that means either the licorice killer broke in, or there are three groups after the darn thing,” Luke pointed out.

“Good point,” Johanna said. “But I wonder
how
the licorice killer knew to look in the cornerstone in the first place?”

“He was at the Finch farm and saw us in the graveyard, so he probably just followed the same clue that we did,” Jolene said as she perused the information in the Noquitt Police database she’d just gained unauthorized access to.

“Which apparently was wrong,” Celeste pointed out.

“But it does explain why that cornerstone slid out so easily. He’d already pried it open so the cement wasn’t even holding it in.” Morgan pressed her lips together. “But what if someone was in there
before
the licorice killer?”

“Yeah, like the people posing as Thaddeus Finch’s nephews,” Jolene said. “They were at the nursing home right before us, so they could have been following the same clue trail.”

“And
they
might have the relic,” Fiona added.

Celeste shook her head. “No, Dorian said that no one has it yet. It’s still up for grabs.”

“Right.” Jolene slammed the laptop shut. “The official list of the stolen museum items isn't posted yet, so we have to go with the facts we have available to us right now.”

“Which are?” Fiona prompted.

The girls looked at each other for a few seconds, then Morgan spoke. “All signs indicate that we got the clue wrong in the first place, but I still feel like the clue lies in the graveyard.”

“Maybe we misinterpreted what Ezra said,” Jolene suggested.

Fiona turned to Celeste. “What exactly did he say?”

Celeste squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember. “He said he provided a clue before he left this world and that it was ‘in the center’, which he said was the ‘most important part of the graveyard’.” Celeste opened her sky-blue eyes. “Then he went off to play poker with some of the other ghosts.”

“Poker?” Jake fixed her with a bemused look. He was still getting used to the fact that the girls had paranormal gifts, especially Celeste’s ability to talk to ghosts.

Celeste laughed. “Yeah, I guess ghosts still play cards.”

Fiona spread her arms out. “Well, that’s exactly where we went. To the center of the graveyard—the obelisk.”

“Maybe we interpreted the clue wrong, though,” Jolene said. “Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the museum.”

“But the other people searching for the relic went there, too,” Celeste pointed out.

“Maybe
they
also interpreted the clue wrong,” Jolene answered.

Fiona sighed. “So we’re back to square one.”

“Not quite,” Morgan said. “But I do think we need to retrace our steps and see if we can figure things from a different angle.”

“It might be a good idea to get clarification on what
exactly
Ezra meant,” Johanna said.

Celeste made a face. “He was really vague. I don’t know if he’ll be more specific or even if I’d be able to see him if we went back to the graveyard. Unfortunately, I can’t conjure ghosts up at will."

“No, but there might be someone else who can give you some insight as to where he was coming from and that might help you figure out what he meant,” Johanna said.

“Who?”

“His great-grandson, Thaddeus Finch.”

Chapter Ten

“Thaddeus Finch is senile. I don’t see how he can help us figure out what Ezra really meant. And even if he gives us info, can we trust it?” Jolene asked as they head into the lobby of the
Fiddlers Rest Nursing Home
the next morning.

“Mom seems to think it will help, so what the heck.” Morgan shrugged. “Besides, we don’t have anything else to try.”

They stepped up to the nurses’ station. The same woman who had been there the previous day looked up at them, a flicker of recognition passing across her face. “Are you girls here to see Mr. Finch again?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

“Well, head on down. You remember where it is?”

“Yep. Thanks.”

Thaddeus Finch was sitting in the same recliner in the corner, with the same orange and green afghan on his lap. The aide, Wendy, was standing beside him with the television remote.

“Do you want to watch
Wheel of Fortune
?” Wendy was asking as Morgan tapped on the door lightly.

Thaddeus looked over at the door with cloudy eyes. A smile spread across his face as he focused on the sisters standing in the doorway.

“Well, well. Come on in.” He straightened in his chair and motioned with his hand for them to enter. He squinted up at them. “Say, aren’t you the Blackmoore girls?”

Jolene smiled.
Maybe he’s lucid today
. “Yes, we are.”

“Did you get what you were looking for out at the farm?” His face turned wistful. “How is the farm coming along? I sure do wish I could go back there.”

“It’s very nice,” Jolene lied. No sense in telling him it had gone to ruin.

Morgan nodded. “In fact, we liked it so much we have some more questions about your great-granddaddy.”

“Ezra?” Finch chuckled. “Now, he was a character. ‘Course I don’t remember much about him. I was just a wee lad when he passed on. But I do remember that he had a lot of confidence.”

“I heard he was a famous pharmacist,” Morgan said.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m afraid the fame might have gone to his head. I always remember him saying how important he was. And he loved his pharmacy, ‘course it burned down now seven years ago.” Finch screwed up has face and looked up at the ceiling. “Or was it longer? I don’t know, but it was very upsetting. He had a bunch of special equipment. Bottles and those grinding stones. I was fascinated with them as a boy, but he wouldn’t let me play with them.”

“You must have been very close,” Fiona said.

“Well, I reckon so. Never thought of it that way. He was mostly busy in the pharmacy, but he always cut out some time for me. You see, his wife Lila-Mae passed before I was born and he was right sick about it. Pappy said he went into a depression and threw himself into pharmacy work. That’s when he got famous, I guess.” Finch waved his hands. “I didn’t pay much attention to that stuff. I was just a little kid, but I know he told me some of the light went out when Lila-Mae passed. He said marrying her was the happiest day of his life … well, aside from the day he got that big pharmacy award. But anyway, I don’t reckon you girls come here to hear an old man talk about the past.”

“Actually, we did,” Celeste said. “We’d love to know more about Ezra. What was he like? What did he like to do? What was important to him?”

“Well, I don’t remember much, ‘cept him talking about the pharmacy and Lila-Mae sometimes. He said she had the most curious, gray eyes.” Finch thrust his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Wendy, who had made herself almost invisible over by his bedside table. “Like my girl, Wendy, here.”

Wendy smiled selfconsciously and Morgan noticed she did have unusual gray eyes, which complemented her hair nicely.

“They must have been very much in love,” Morgan said.

“I suppose so. I don’t know anything about love. Never married, myself.” Finch paused, lost in thought. “I don’t remember Ezra doing much else ‘cept his pharmacy work, but he did like to play cards from time to time.”

Jolene remembered Celeste had said his ghost had wandered off to play cards. “Was card playing important to him?”

“Nah. Not really. Oh, he liked it, but after his wife died, his true love was that pharmacy and his medicines.”

“Do you know much about his pharmacy business?” Morgan asked.

“Nah, I was a kid. Didn’t pay much attention to business. But I loved the old coot. Him, my granddaddy, and my pappy. All gone now.” His eyes shone and he leaned forward in the chair. “But I done them right. Buried them in the family graveyard and kept the graves neat and tidy. I even put up that obelisk right near Ezra - he always said he was the most important part of the family, so I figure it should be near him.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes at Finch. “Did you say
you
put the obelisk in the graveyard after Ezra died?”

Why, yes. I figured it was a nice memorial for the graveyard. ‘Course I kept it nice and all. Tended the graves regularly and was even hoping that someday I might be laid to rest—”

“That’s it!” Morgan snapped her fingers, cutting Finch off in mid-sentence. She spun on her heels and headed toward the door, motioning for the others to follow. When they got out into the hall, she turned and poked her head back in the door. “Thanks, Mr. Finch, it’s been great talking to you, but we gotta run!”

***

“If the obelisk wasn’t even
in
the graveyard during Ezra’s time, then the similarities between the pattern on the obelisk and the Oblate Museum must just be a coincidence. It can’t be the clue that Ezra’s ghost said he left … the real clue must be on his grave.” Morgan explained, her words coming out in short puffs of condensation as they picked their way through the tall grass on the Finch farm toward the graveyard.

“That makes perfect sense,” Celeste agreed. “Thaddeus said that Ezra thought he was pretty important, and his ghost told me he left the clue in ‘the center—the most important part of the graveyard’. I thought he was talking about the obelisk, but now it makes sense that he would be talking about his own gravestone.”

Jolene scrunched her face up. “Seriously? How could a guy leave a clue on his own grave?”

“That is what we need to find out,” Morgan said. They walked up the cement steps to the family plot. A chill crept up her spine and she stopped and turned, looking back out over the field behind them.

“Are we being followed again?” Fiona asked.

“Possibly. Probably.” Morgan gazed out over the field, her eyes searching for any movement that would indicate they were being followed while her intuition focused on locating a presence her eyes couldn’t see.

Was someone out there?

She felt something wasn't right, but couldn’t see anyone. She took a deep breath of crisp, cold air. It was heavy with the wet, frosty smell of snow. A glance up at the gray sky told her the first flakes would come any minute. She turned her attention back to the graveyard. “Let’s just focus on the task at hand and keep our eyes peeled for visitors.”