Grave Echoes: A Kate Waters Mystery (17 page)

“What does your mom say?”

“For some reason, it’s important to her.”

Wells sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Where are they going?”

“Montana, all the way up in Glacier National Park. What am I going to do there? Watch birds and take endless photographs of mountains and streams? Not really my thing.”

“Montana is beautiful. You’ll get to see some extraordinary places—maybe you can even turn it into a homework assignment for the biology labs you’ll miss?”

Julie scrunched her face. “Dad, if I’m going to turn it into homework, I might as well stay home and go to school.” She rolled her eyes and planted them on the waiter across the table. His tight T-shirt stretched over his biceps where black artistic spikes tattooed around his arm.

“Just tell me you don’t have one of those?” He commented, observant of her interest.

“No, but me and a friend are looking through some books; we might get one this spring.”

Wells forced a smile and then felt his phone buzz in his pocket. The display read, “Restricted.” Work, he presumed. He flipped the receiver open. “Wells here.”

“Howdy partner.” It was Ted, his way of giving him hell for wearing cowboy boots in the office. “Good news and bad news.”

“What’s the good?” Wells said, hoping it would dilute the bad. He watched Julie as Ted spoke. Her bare legs shifted from under the table and then she crossed them like a lady, gently kicking her leg out for the waiter to notice. He did and smiled, asking her if she needed anything. Julie shook her head, grinning brightly. Wells nudged her with his leg under the table until he snagged her attention, with an opposing frown, and then turned his attention back to Ted.

“The matches,” Ted began, “…they are identical to the fingerprints found on Jevanna Waters’ neck.”

Wells straightened. “No kidding?” This new piece of information weakened his doubts about foul play in Jevanna Waters’ accident. Somebody obviously knew something they didn’t want to share or have exposed, probably the same person who took the girl’s cell phone and house key. “Did you pull up any records?”

“No, that’s the bad news,” Ted said. “Do you want to get a warrant on the boyfriend?”

“Not yet. I want to talk with a few other people first.” Wells concluded his conversation with Ted and turned to Julie.

She texted on her phone and stopped to look up at him. “What?”

“Go to Montana with your mother.” Julie frowned at him. “It’ll make her happy and she deserves that,” he stressed.

“What about you, Dad? You don’t seem happy?”

In truth, he hadn’t really thought about his happiness. He’d been on a few dates, but none of them ever felt right. He’d hurt Sheila when he’d let his job, and his obsession to find his brother’s murderer, rob her of the attention she needed and deserved, and maybe he still subconsciously punished himself for that—doomed to live alone.

“I am happy, honey,” he lied. It seemed easier than explaining it to her.

She gave him a look, and he knew that she didn’t believe the lie anymore than he did.

“So are you working on any cool cases?”

Wells spooned clam chowder into his mouth. “There is no such thing as a cool case, Julie.” She raised her brows and then glanced back at the waiter. Wells wiped his mustache and continued. “I’m investigating possible foul play surrounding a young girl’s fatal car accident.” He stopped eating. “She looks just like you.”

Julie brought her gaze back to her dad. She placed her hand, nails painted black, over his. “I’ll go to Montana, Dad.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

***

“What are you doing in here?” Kate said, confronting Thea who stood in front of Jev’s opened dresser drawer. Thea’s presence had startled her, but snooping through her sister’s room angered her.

Thea shut the dresser drawer, seemingly surprised, yet still composed. “I gave Jev a few of my books; I thought I would try to locate them and take them home, if that’s all right?” She smiled with a calmness that unnerved Kate.

“She keeps her books in the other room,” Kate replied, pointing across the hall.

“Not all of them,” Thea said. Her voice came dark and hard. Kate wondered what books she referred to… ones that might be kept in a particular trunk in the spare room?

“It’s a great house, isn’t it?” Thea said. “I always tell Jev that if she ever wants a roommate, I’ll bunk with her.” She looked across the hall toward the room where Kate had found the trunk of witchcraft supplies. “I’d even harvest her vegetables and herbs.”

Kate noticed Thea spoke of Jev in the present tense. It seemed odd, but then so was Thea.

“I’m sure she would have wanted you to cook them too,” Kate said, leaning against the doorway trying to appear unbothered by Thea’s rummaging around, even though inside, she still shook. The warning Sean had given her the other night boomed in her head now. “I’d be careful though….she’s a witch.”

Kate crossed her arms, waiting for Thea to leave, but she just stood there, inspecting the room with tight, dark eyes. Kate knew she continued her search and questioned if it was really just for books. Maybe an old key? She touched it through her shirt, making sure it was still there after her sleep attack in the living room.

“Is there something else I can do for you?”

Thea looked back at her. “No. Sorry for the intrusion.” She walked toward the door and Kate stepped back, allowing her space to pass. She wanted to talk more with Thea about Jev, their witchcraft, the strange key, but couldn’t gather the courage to do so.

“If you tell me the name of the books you are looking for, I will keep an eye out for them,” Kate said instead. “I was just going to pack some of her things tonight anyway.”

“That’s okay. I probably misplaced them at home. Thank you for having this wake for Jev. I am deeply sorry for your loss. She is a great friend to us all.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied. Then Thea glided down the hall.

“Wait,” Kate blurted. She couldn’t let the conversation end there, not without at least questioning her about Jev’s cell phone and house key.

Thea turned around and headed back toward her. “Yes?”

“Have you seen Jev’s cell phone or her house key?”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t.”

Kate nodded. “That’s okay. If you think someone else might know where they are, I’d appreciate your help.”

Thea’s eyes glimmered and she moved closer to Kate. “You’re afraid of something,” she said.

The intense hoarseness of her voice alarmed Kate; she felt defensive. “I’m not as fragile as my sister,” she replied, hoping to sound as confident as she attempted.

“We’re all afraid of something,” Thea responded. She withdrew a card from her purse. “I’ll talk with a couple of people, see if anyone has seen her things.” Kate took the card from her. In silver lettering was the name Walter Biddy’s, with Thea Wright—manager, inscribed underneath it. Kate stiffened.

“Walter Biddy’s,” she mouthed silently, as she watched Thea walk away.

Exhausted from the wake, Kate drove home on auto-pilot, half remembering streets and lights she’d turned on and stopped at. Her mind drifted in and out of the present and past, churning her troubles like an old water wheel, splashing cold reality repeatedly. She noticed the lights off in the house as she pulled into the driveway and wondered if David was sleeping.

Kate locked the jeep and headed to the front door, slowing as she noticed something red spilled on the porch. She stepped up to the front door, pulse quickened and mind fixed at what lay before her. Rose petals? She opened the door to find the house softly lit with candles dancing amber waves along the walls and warming the rooms with romance. Kate smiled, hung up her coat, and went into the kitchen where something appetizing cooked.

David stood over the stove stirring a pot of soup. “Hey, how’d it go?”

“It went well.” She gave him a kiss, small and soft. He still had a large bandage over his forehead, and his eye had darkened to the color of eggplant. “How’s your head?”

“Great, when I take my pain killers.” He gave her a wild, crazed stare.

Kate laughed and peeked into the pot. “Potato soup, my favorite.”

“I know it is.” He put his hand on her back. “So, tell me what happened?”

“I had an interesting encounter with Thea, Jev’s witch friend.”

“Oh yeah.” Kate handed him a card.

“She works at Walter Biddy’s?”

“Yup.” Kate sipped on the soup from a large, wooden spoon. The hearty aroma made her stomach growl and she realized she hadn’t eaten a real meal since before the wake.

“So you think she’s the one who broke in. Did you find out why?”

“No, but I did catch her snooping for a book in Jev’s room.” She dropped the spoon back in the pot and gave it a stir.

David handed her a bowl. “She must not have found what she was looking for the other night.”

“Maybe, but…,” Kate stopped when a screeching hissed from the hallway. She set the bowl aside.

Lucy growled, a long and guttural warning of something unwelcome. Kate felt her skin prickle as she exchanged a puzzled look with David. They both crept into the hallway where Lucy snarled. David halted Kate with an outstretched hand. “Wait,” he whispered.

Lucy crouched against the wall, her back arched high, tail flicking back and forth like a cobra ready to strike. But nothing was there, except for the bureau and a coat hung over the stairway railing.

“Lucy…,” Kate started to say, but David hushed her again, putting a finger to his pursed lips. She didn’t like the look in his eyes—they glinted with fear.

Lucy’s growl intensified. Her paw, equipped with five mini white scythes, reached up to protect herself.

“She must smell something,” David whispered. Just as Kate was about to dismiss her behavior to typical cat spooks, a breeze blew past her, blowing out the candles in the hallway and living room. The house fell unnaturally dark and silent.

“What was that?” David snapped, alarm resonating in his voice.

“A breeze?” Kate suggested, mostly trying to convince herself. She reached for the light switch on the wall and flipped it on. A flash exploded from above, sending the house into darkness again. The blown bulb clouded Kate’s vision with greenish-white spots.

“What the hell?” David reached for Kate. “Don’t move.”

From out of the cavernous depths of her mind, Kate thought she heard whispers, murmuring acoustically, both male and female voices. She strained to listen, unable to tell which direction they came from, as if they were coming from inside her head.

He’s coming for you. He knows…

Lucy started growling again.

She’s a witch! Get out!

Kate spun around, grabbing at the black nothingness that suffocated her thoughts and impeded her movements. A fright shook her so deep, she shrieked and began flailing her arms to find David. Something soft bumped up against her. Another person? Then strong arms grab her by the shoulders. Kate screamed again, unable to control her horror.

“It’s me,” she heard David call.

Locking onto his arm, she hugged him close to her. “What’s going on?”

“We’re not alone,” he said.

***

Wells slowed the patrol car at the parking lot to the dark-wooded tavern, Walter Biddy’s. Red and blue lights lit up the windows and a giant barbeque smoked on the front patio. He parked in the middle of the lot and walked to the front entrance, scanning his surroundings and getting a feel for the customers. It was no coincidence Thea just happened to work at the restaurant of the matches found in Jev’s home, Wells thought. She was the one who broke into Jev’s house and whose fingerprints might possibly be on the deceased’s neck.

He grabbed the iron-rod handle and pulled open the thick wooden door, pausing inside to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. For a Saturday night, the bar wasn’t too busy. Mostly regulars, he guessed. It seemed like a comforting place, tucked away in the city hills, with dark maroon walls, dim lights, and brick accents. On the walls hung black and white pictures of blues’ artists like Otis Redding, Lightning Hopkins, Louis Jordan, and Johnnie Taylor, a perfect place to leave behind a day full of responsibilities, obligations, and distancing goals. People here looked hard and had obvious problems, Wells observed. Their sullen expressions revealed something like remorse—a broken mirror forever flawed by the jagged cracks of sin. He knew; he’d been there before, facing choices gone so wrong, and resolution eventually became a pointless journey. It had taken too many bottles and long nights lost to numbness to realize some wrongs couldn’t be righted. After eighteen years, his brother’s murder remained unsolved, and his obsession had finally driven Sheila away.

He sat down in one of the faded, black leather seats lined up along the scuffed mahogany bar. The bartender came over and stood next to him, stocking glassware and napkins. She was attractive, in a dark, toughened way, and he remembered how Terry had described Thea—sort of rough and eccentric. This girl fit the profile. Wild auburn curls dominated her face and chocolate obsidian eyes contrasted mysteriously against her pale skin. A large black stone adorned her right middle finger and a silver necklace with a knotted triangle hung down just above her cleavage, pointing to the direction of a man’s desire.

“What can I get you,” she said to him.

Wells pulled out his badge. “My name is Detective Orwin Wells. Are you Thea Wright?”

“Yes.” She didn’t appear a bit nervous as most civilians were after seeing his badge.

“I need to talk to you about Jevanna Waters.”

Her face hardened, and she stopped cleaning. Her eyes peered into him, as if searching his thoughts. “What about?”

“Some matches were found in Jev’s home. They are from your club.”

“That sounds terrible, detective.”

Sarcasm now. She seemed overly brave. “The house was locked up, but her house key is missing.”

“Any one of her friends could have dropped them in there.”

“But only one of them can get in. The one with her house key,” Wells challenged her.

Streetlights pierced into the dark tavern like flashlights in a dusty coffin. Wells twisted around, noting the two burly-looking men who had walked into the bar. He turned his attention back to Thea. “I wouldn’t be making a big deal of it if we hadn’t discovered fingerprints on the deceased’s neck where one would take a pulse.” He noticed a sign of worry flash across her eyes and straighten her mouth. “And the sister believes someone might be following her.”

Thea motioned to the detective to wait while she filled a pitcher full of beer for the two customers. Then she came back over and stood in front of him. “I don’t have a key to Jev’s house if that’s what you want to know.”

“Was there anything unusual with Ms. Waters before her accident?” He spoke of the victim professionally to stress his seriousness.

“She was acting different,” Thea replied, combining half-empty liquor bottles together. “I don’t think she was getting along with her boyfriend at the time.”

“Sean?” Wells clarified. Thea nodded. “Do you know what they were fighting about?”

“She never told me. Jev liked to try to solve her own problems, even though she wasn’t very good at it.”

Wells admired her honesty. “Were you two close?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Close enough to practice witchcraft together?”

Thea set the bottles on a glass shelf behind her and then turned to him. “Sometimes.”

Wells looked around the joint while she helped another customer at the register. She moved with confidence and grace, and he imagined she probably made a good penny in tips. She came back to him with a shot of whiskey. “On the house.”

Even though he was on duty, certain situations required a slack attitude if the truth was to be revealed. He lifted the glass and winked at her. Then he downed the smooth, golden liquor, enjoying the burn down his throat.

“Are you supposed to be drinking on the job?” A smirk drifted over her face.

“You going to tell on me?” he replied, motioning his empty glass to her for another.

She reached to the glass shelves behind her and filled his glass, handing it back to him, her face hardened. “Only if you quit investigating Jev’s accident. Her sister is in danger.”

Wells nearly coughed up his drink. He set the glass down. “Why do you think that?” It came out more of a whisper than he wanted it to.

Thea’s eyes probed the bar for eaves-dropping ears. “I have a bad feeling.”

“A bad feeling?” Wells repeated.

Her venomous eyes locked onto him. “Ever since my dog died. I know someone killed Cernunos.”

“You think someone murdered your dog?”

“The vet said he was poisoned.”

“Any reason why someone would want to kill your dog?”

“I don’t think it’s that hard to figure out, Detective,” she said, cunningness magnetized in her shrewd smile. “Someone obviously doesn’t like me, and I’m not exactly popular.”

Wells gathered that much. “How about the boyfriend? He have a good reason to dislike you?”

“You could say we had mutual feelings of dislike for each other, but I don’t think Sean had anything to do with Jev’s accident. He adored her, like a puppy.”

And maybe that made you jealous, Wells thought to himself, but Thea stared at him, as if she knew exactly what had just crossed his mind.

***

The hallway, dark as the night outside, rang with dreadful whispers, a chilling warning that someone was coming—a witch. Kate clutched onto David, struggling to understand what was happening. They were just having dinner when they heard the cat growl, the candles snuffed out, and now they were huddled in the hallway, haunted by strange voices.

David’s words, we’re not alone, struck her in the chest as if she had been physically hit. Fright immobilized her. Her limbs, heavy and stiff, felt like they were pooling with cement. The voices came again, incoherent, but Kate could almost feel something standing next to her. Adrenaline snapped her back to the present. “Quick, David!”

His hands shuffled along the wall as he scrambled to find the lamp on the bureau. Something knocked to the ground, and then a soft light beamed into the hallway, dragging Kate from her ghostly nightmare.

“Are you okay?” David asked her.

Kate could barely nod.

“I’ll be right back,” David said before running through the rooms of the house, searching for the intruder. Kate stayed crouched in the corner of the hallway, afraid to move.

He came back down the stairs within seconds. “Nobody’s here. Are you sure you’re all right?” He held his hand out to her.

Kate gripped it tightly, glancing around the rooms, that feeling of somebody watching her still thick on her skin. “I think so. Were any of the doors open? The window?”

“No. Nothing. I checked every room. Nobody could have escaped out of the house that fast.”

“But that’s impossible—I heard someone.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” He hesitated for her reply.

Whether she wanted to hear it or not, Kate had a sense that David was going to tell her anyway. He led her back into the kitchen. The cat had sought refuge somewhere out of sight.

“What is it? Ghosts?”

David’s eyes gleamed as he put his thoughts together. “Hear me out.”

Kate sat, leaning her elbows on the table and cradling her head in her hands.

“I think there is a mystic door in our house that’s letting spirits cross over, probably through the window upstairs.”

Kate looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I don’t think we’ve been alone in here for some time.” His eyes rolled around the room as if someone were watching them at that very moment.

“Stop saying that,” she snapped, opposed to another discussion about ghosts. It was complete childhood nonsense. Recent events may have been difficult to explain, but it didn’t stop her from seeking a logical explanation. Clearly, he believed in a world of fantasy, and Kate refused to support it.