Ghosts Beneath Us: A Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery (Spookie Town Murder Mysteries Book 3) (23 page)

“I did my best.”  

 “And your best is always the best.” Then Martha’s expression became serious. “I was hoping Frank would be here so I could tell you both what I’ve just learned.”

“Me, too. But I’m sure he’ll be along soon. What have you learned?”

“Well,” Martha had devoured the first donut, was working on the second, and leaned in towards Abigail so what she said wouldn’t be broadcast across the shop, “Ryan told me last night that the corporation you and Frank are investigating, Lansing, has gobbled up practically every house in Myrtle’s neighborhood. They’ve purchased Beatrice’s house from her son; bought Jeff Stricklin’s and Dotty Cumming’s house, too. Many others. So far in total they’d acquired fifteen houses and the land that goes with them. They’re still feverishly trying to get Alfred’s, Tina’s and Clementine’s homes, though. Ryan says everyone in his office is curious about what they want it for and about the shady dealings they’ve used to acquire some of the properties.”

“How many houses in total were they wanting to buy?”

“Counting Tina’s, Clementine’s and Myrtle’s? Nineteen or twenty, I’d say.”

“What in the world do they want all that land for? What would be important enough for them to strong-arm, torment and conceivably dispose of the homeowners if they won’t sell? I’ve been racking my brain but not much that makes sense comes to me. It’s just land. Lansing Corporation can buy land anywhere with the money they seem to have at their disposal. Why this town? This land?”

“Ah, not that’s the big mystery, right? Scuttlebutt is there’s government funding involved so perhaps the corporation wants to build a top secret lab of some sort there and for some unfathomable reason has to have that exact plot of land. There’s so much speculation. Some speculate they’re going to build a toxic biological warfare facility or something to do with our national defense or another high-security prison for foreign terrorists–and who in their right mind would want that anywhere near their town? Not me. But who really knows why they want the land? I’ve heard so many bizarre theories, but none of them makes a lot of sense.”

As Martha was speaking Abigail saw Frank outside making his way along the sidewalk towards the door. A minute later he was lowering himself into the chair beside her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Hi Abby. Wow, is this place packed. What a turnout. Kate must be doing a happy dance. Sorry I’m late, but I see you’ve started without me.”

“I couldn’t help myself. You know me and baked goods.”

“I do. You’re as bad as Myrtle.” He was wise enough not to laugh, but she sent him a dirty look anyway.

Turning to the other person at the table, Frank said, “Hello Martha.”

“Hi Frank. Nice you could join us.”

“I would have been here sooner but something came up.”

His sideway glance at Abigail had an air of secrecy about it. “I’ll tell you about it later, Abby,” he whispered. Then loud enough for Martha to hear, he added, “Right now I’d kill for a cup of Kate’s coffee and some of those delicious donuts I could smell a block away coming here. I’ll be back in a second.” He got up and wove through the throng to the counter. When he returned to the table he had a stack of chocolate covered Long Johns cradled in a napkin and a cup of coffee.

“Aaah.” He sighed sipping the coffee. “This is hits the spot. Good coffee, as good as Stella’s, but don’t anyone ever tell her I said that or next time I go in there she’ll refuse to serve me any.” He bit into a donut and a smile came over his face. “Kate sure can make these things. They’re absolutely delicious. I feel sorry for The Bakery. Once the townies taste Kate’s donuts I don’t think they’ll ever go back. Well, except for the cakes, pies and cheesecakes.”

“There’s enough business to go around,” Abigail told him. “Be sure to get some donuts to take home with you.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Frank centered his attention on Martha. “So I saw you and Abby, heads down, conspiring together as I came in. Knowing you two, I bet it had something to do with what’s going on with the old people in town? Am I correct? Any new developments I should know about?”

Abigail caught him up on what Martha had told her. As she finished, Samantha came into the shop and made a beeline toward their table.

“Sad news,” Samantha exhaled, joining them. “Alfred Loring’s body was found late yesterday afternoon in the creek on the edge of his property by some neighborhood kids. I was listening to the police scanner when the call came over and I followed up the story this morning. I dropped by the police station and demanded information about it. He’s dead all right. Police say he drowned.”

“Oh no,” Abigail exclaimed.

“In four feet of water!” The shock was clear in Frank’s tone.

“How do you know,” Abigail pressed him, “that the water was only four feet deep?”

“That’s how deep the creek on his land is and no deeper except during the rainy season and there hasn’t been much precipitation so far this month. It’d be a real trick to drown in that shallow of water no matter how old and decrepit Alfred was.”

Sorrow had settled on Frank’s face and wasn’t seeping away. He wasn’t a stranger to loss but Abigail realized he’d developed a fondness for the old war veteran. She could see the death was hitting him hard.

No one at the table had to say anything else. The words
murder
and
another one
floated around them in the air like ectoplasm but weren’t spoken out loud.

Frank slowly drank the rest of his coffee and ate the remaining half of his last donut into his mouth, but he seemed to be thinking about something. “Samantha, did the sheriff say anything else at all about the death?”

“Our illustrious sheriff? No. He shrugged it off like the other deaths as another old person accident. So sad, too bad. He actually made me mad saying who’d care anyway? That Alfred was just some aging bum living in a shack on a piece of worthless land and no one would miss him. But that’s the sheriff. He’s got as much compassion as a turnip.

“He did tell me Alfred seems to have been dead for days by the condition of the body and there are no relatives to attend to the funeral arrangements. The man was broke so the city would have to spring for the bill. I asked him where the body had been found and he said it was at the place in the creek lined with the large boulders. You know where that is?”

“In fact I do,” Frank replied, catching Abigail’s gaze.

So Abigail knew where they were going after they left Kate’s shop.

“It’s too bad Alfred is dead.” Martha had come to her feet, ready to run off. She’d already mentioned a dental appointment at twelve and had to go. “But perhaps it
was
simply an accident? And he was as old as the hills. Old people fall and hurt or kill themselves all the time. Why, I had a great aunt who fell down her basement steps one winter and broke her neck. We didn’t find her for two weeks.” Martha made a disgusting face. “And it was an accident.”

Abigail shook her head. “Alfred’s death was an accident like his neighbor Tina’s disappearance from the cruise ship, Beatrice’s and Clementine’s deaths and all the other weird things that have been happening to the other homeowners in the same vicinity? Myrtle’s trailer burning down? Kate’s house being ransacked?
All
accidents? We don’t think so.”

“Well, I can’t deny your logic there, Abigail. And I bet you and Frank will keep digging at it until you find the answers you want. You won’t let this go, will you?”

“No way,” Frank informed Martha. “There is something really wrong here and someone or something is behind it, causing it. We aim to find out who and stop it.”

Martha threw him a sharp look but there was worry beneath it. “If you’re going to keep investigating this, you two, just be careful. I remember what happened the last time.”

The serial killer had almost kidnapped her and nearly killed Frank.

“So do I.” Frank’s hand was gently holding hers now. “We’ll be careful, Martha. Aren’t we always careful?”

Martha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, your lips are moving but I don’t believe you. Both of you have an uncanny knack for finding and getting into trouble. I know you two.”

Now Frank smiled. “It finds us. And I have guns. No one is going to mess with me.”

Martha just shook her head and, grabbing her purse from the table, left the building, looking back once with a stern expression on her face meant for Frank.
Be careful.

Samantha exited soon after, a bag of donuts clutched in her hands. “Enough goofing off. I have stories to edit for next week, and a car that sorely needs a tune-up. Bye!”

Abigail was finally alone with Frank. That is if you didn’t count the horde around them. “I bet you want to go out to Alfred’s place and snoop around the creek, huh?”

“As soon as I have one last cup of coffee and another one of Kate’s donuts I do. You want to come with me?”

“You better believe I do, but I have Nick.” She nodded to where the boy was a couple of tables away.

“We can either drop him off at your house or leave him here in town with his friends. He looks content enough here.”

Which was true. Nick was surrounded by a gang of his school buddies and they were laughing and cutting up, whispering among themselves like teenagers liked to do. Abigail went to Nick’s table. “Frank and I are going home now. You want a ride or would you like to stay here longer?”

“I’ll stay here, Abby. I can walk home later.” Nick’s friends, two guys and a girl were busy eating pastries and drinking chocolate milk. Abigail caught the soft look Nick slid over at the girl and the look she sent back at him. The girl had somber blue eyes and blond hair the color of wheat. She wasn’t what anyone would call a beauty but when she smiled, she was.

She could tell Nick was sweet on the girl and it made her smile. Ah, young love. She remembered it well and was glad, for herself, it was long ago. The flip side of young love was always heartache.

“Okay, Nick. See you back at the house later. Supper at six. Don’t be late.”

Her son bobbed his head, his lovesick eyes still on the girl with the blue eyes.

She said her goodbyes to Kate and Laura, letting Kate know how great her opening day was going and letting Laura know how well she was doing on the first day of her first job. Then she left the shop with Frank.

Kate gave her a box of donuts to take home and Abigail wished her luck for the rest of the day.

“I have my car here,” she told Frank as they went out the door.

“I’ll follow you to your house and we can drive over in my truck.”

Fifteen minutes later they were driving up to Alfred’s house. They’d make that their starting point.

*****

It was a short hike to the creek on the border of Alfred’s property. Abigail straggled behind Frank as they trudged through tall grass and weeds until they came to it, the boulders and the water. What there was of it anyway. Frank was right about the stream not being very wide or deep. It wasn’t either.

The sun, high above them, illuminated every section of the creek and the water sparling in it. The boulders were above her head in height and lined the flowing water for a short distance. They were riddled with quartz and glittered in the sunlight like prisms. The effect was kind of pretty. Overall it was an appealing spot with the water, the trees and the rocks. Too bad someone had died there.

She’d never been to this part of the creek, though it meandered through Alfred’s land and others and encircled most of the town in one way or another. In its largest incarnation it rushed behind Frank’s cabin and then babbled along parallel to and behind Main Street. She didn’t know if it had a name but perhaps it might have had one at some time or another. Samantha would know and she’d have to ask her next time she saw her. That woman knew every scrap of minutia about Spookie’s history.

“What exactly are we searching for here?” Abigail probed as she watched Frank scramble down to the creek’s edge and stomp around in the mud, head and eyes downward. She remained on higher ground and swatted at the tiny flying creatures pestering her. No way was she going to get creek mud on her shoes.

“Anything…anything at all that might give us clues to how and why Alfred actually died. I can’t buy that claptrap put out by the sheriff’s department that his death was another mishap.”

Abigail waited until he was done doing whatever he was doing and he was back up on the bank with her. “Did you see anything of interest down there?”

“I might have. I don’t know exactly where the body was found but now I have an idea. Because the sheriff didn’t think a crime was involved, again, there’s no crime scene tape to show us, but there’s a patch of mud down there by the rocks where there appears to have been a scuffle. A violent one. There are signs of a struggle and drag marks. Shoe prints in the mud and from what I can tell, from more than one shoe size or one pair of shoes. I’m going to get a deputy out here to do some impressions of these shoe prints for evidence. Eventually, we’re going to need them.”

“You think someone attacked him, dragged him to the water and pushed his head under or something?”

“I believe so.”

“So he
was
murdered?”

“That’d be my professional guess.” Frank squinted up at the trees shading them and Abigail felt sorry for him. He’d known the old people who had died and some he’d known well. After all he’d grown up in Spookie and she hadn’t. He’d confided in her the night before he had suddenly remembered when he’d been a child and Alfred had been a much younger man freshly returned from the war. Frank now recalled seeing him around town in his uniform; hearing talk about him and meeting him.

“I don’t know why I didn’t remember this when we went out to see him at his house, but I did know him years ago. He used to talk to me when I was a boy. For a short while he was my friend when I needed one, when my dad was sick. My dad had heart problems most of my young childhood. It’s what he eventually died from when I was fourteen.

“My memories of that time are faded now but there was this one winter night around Christmas, many years ago, I recall clearer than the rest for I was really sad. Dad had lost his job because he was too ill to continue working, and Alfred, I think it was Alfred, saw me in town and took me sledding on the courthouse’s hill and for hot chocolate afterwards. He was just one of those men who cared about other people. He saw I was upset and he took some time to find out what was wrong and then cheer me up. That’s why I didn’t make the connection with the present day cantankerous Alfred in comparison to the caring and kind man he used to be. Not at first anyway.”