Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 07 - Two Ghosts Haunt a Grove (13 page)

“Hey, it’s Jack.”

Jack? That was twice in one week that he called me. A record. “What can I do for you, Jack?”

Greg looked at me mouthing Jack’s name with the same astonishment I had.

“Yeah, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Detective Shorts?” Jack asked.

“No, I haven’t seen or heard from him in a couple of days. Why?”

“No one at the station has seen him either. He seems to have disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” the concern came through in my voice.

“Yeah. Anyway, since I know he helped you with your car a couple days ago, I just thought—well, never mind.”

“Jack, did he ever bring that picture to you?” I asked.

“Picture?”

“Yeah, I took a picture of some strange activity up at the Bourtonson place and Detective Shorts was supposed to get it enhanced.”

“No, he never stopped by.”

“Are you at your office now?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be right over.” I snapped my phone closed. “Sorry, Greg, I’ll have to take a rain check on supper.”

“As long as we get to have dessert first.”

I smiled. “I need to see Jack. There’s a photo I want enhanced. And Detective Shorts is missing. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Missing?” asked Greg.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come with you.”

We took my car to the station. It was only a fifteen minute drive, especially since I broke every traffic law in the book to get there; my mind focused on the missing detective.

“Should I be driving?” asked Greg as he held onto the door handle.

“No need. We’re here.”

“You need driving lessons,” he teased.

“Shut up.”

We breezed past the lobby area and down the stairs. Luckily the building was fairly empty. “Jack,” I called as we entered his basement office.

“That was quick,” he said.

“So no one has seen Detective Shorts?”

“No,” replied Jack, “He’s not answering his cell. His car is parked on Lurner Road, but no sign of him—not even at his home.”

“That’s not like him. Here.” I handed Jack my phone with the photo already pulled up.

Jack took it, plugging an usb cord into it and downloaded the photo into the computer. “Just give me a minute.” With several clacks of the keys on the keyboard, I watched, mesmerized, as he blew up and digitally enhanced the picture so that it was crystal clear.

“I’ve seen those two before,” I said.

“So have I,” said Greg leaning over my shoulder, “at that party.”

“You’re right,” I said.

Jack ran their pictures through the police database. Within moments, something popped up. “Charles and Dick Ferguson,” said Jack, “Both with priors—minor stuff—and both have two other siblings, Howard and Jason. They’ve been living at the Kellmore house since their aunt adopted them after their parents died in a car crash. And that’s about it, aside from a few traffic violations.”

Greg’s phone rang. “Yeah,” he answered, “Sure, I’ll be right there.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Jimmy called in sick and I need to go in,” said Greg.

“All right,” I said giving him a kiss, “you can take me out later.”

“Deal. And you stay out of trouble.”

“I always do.”

Greg gave me an “I don’t believe you” look.

“I promise I won’t go looking for it,” I said.

“You don’t have to,” replied Greg, “Trouble always finds you.”

“Want me to give you a ride?”

“No, I’ll take a cab.”

Greg left and I turned back to Jack. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” said Jack. “Mel, are you sure Detective Shorts didn’t say where he was going when you last saw him?”

“He never said anything.”

“Well, this isn’t like him.”

“Keep me posted,” I said as I left.

Deciding a little snooping was in order, I hiked up to where the detective’s office was. Most of the officers and other detectives had gone home for the night so my presence went unnoticed. I tested the door to Detective Shorts’ office. Open. Good.

I latched the door and closed the blinds so no one could peek in. Flicking on a lamp, I scanned the area. Nothing popped out at me right away. I opened a drawer on the desk. File folders lay inside. Hoping I would get lucky, I pulled them out and laid them on the desk. One contained photos of Kyle and his cousins. Another contained photos of the cousins talking to the antique guy at the flea market. Was Detective Shorts tailing them? Could it be that he actually took my claim that Philip Kellmore was murdered to heart?

I opened another folder. In it was an autopsy report for Philip Kellmore. Doing my best not to green up at the photos, I read through the report. Cause of death: heart attack. Another autopsy report fell out. Detective Shorts must have requested another one to be done. It was dated after I had stormed in here demanding that he reopen the case. A note next to cause of death caught my attention: increased levels of adrenaline. I took out a picture of what looked like a small puncture wound; one that would be easily missed.

I stuffed the folders back in the desk. A pile of books fell over as I shut the drawer. Picking them up, I scanned the titles. Each book dealt with heart disease and how excess adrenaline can cause heart failure. Was it possible that someone injected Philip Kellmore with it?

I opened one of the bookmarked pages. Scanning the passage carefully, I learned that in a person with heart disease, increased levels of adrenaline can lead to heart failure. Philip Kellmore was well-known for having a bad heart. His frightened state the day he died would definitely cause an increase in adrenaline.

But the puncture wound. Could he have been injected with something? Injecting someone with adrenaline and then giving them a good scare would make their heart go crazy. In the case of someone with a bad heart, the combination is deadly.

I put the books back and turned off the lamp. The detective had figured it out and now he was in trouble. Carefully, I opened the door and peeked out. Still empty. Quickly, I hurried outside and to my car. I tried dialing Jackie, but her phone went straight to voicemail.

Pulling out onto the road I started to dial Tiny when the light changed to red. I stopped. The clomping of horse hooves prickled my ears. Who would be riding a horse in the middle of the city at this time of night? I glanced around, shoving my phone in my pocket. Nothing.

The hooves drew closer until they stopped next to my car. “Mel?”

“Joseph!” I shrieked. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

He materialized next to me, seated atop his horse. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What do you want?”

“They’re back. And this time they have someone new with them, though they keep him tied up. Come on. I’ll meet you there.”

Joseph tugged on the reins of his horse and galloped off, vanishing into thin air. Making a U-turn, I headed for the highway that took me straight to Joseph’s Bourtonson’s haunted inn.

I inched my car towards the gate to Joseph’s property. Trails of mist hovered past it giving me an ominous feeling that I should have called someone. Too bad people weren’t answering their phones. Even though the gates were wide open I decided to park the car outside the grounds. Before entering the property, I pulled my flashlight out of the glove compartment.

No signs of life. Cautiously, I entered the abandoned property and made my way to the inn. Where was Joseph? He said he would meet me here, but there was no sign of him. Great, a ghost with no sense of time. Deciding not to wait, I continued onward. After all, he had told me to come here. He’d show up eventually.

I spotted a black, unmarked van parked by the inn; just like the one I had seen before. Creeping across the grass and overgrown pavement, I reached the vehicle. No one was inside.

A clatter alerted me to another’s presence. Instantly, I scurried away from the van and ducked behind some bushes dripping with dew. Two men approached, one of them Kyle.

“I told you to be more careful,” raged Kyle.

“You’re the one who allowed that girl into your office. Chances are she was snooping around.”

“Don’t play this game with me!” snarled Kyle. “It was you and your idiot brother who kidnapped the cop. Aunt Alicia is livid. Now pack this stuff up and let’s get out of here.”

“And the cop?”

“We’ll deal with him. One more body in the river won’t make much difference.”

Detective Shorts was here? Kidnapped?

Once Kyle and the other man walked back into the cellar, I hurried over to it. A window lay not too far away. Carefully, I peeked through it spotting Detective Shorts immediately—tied to a chair, his head hanging. Something poked me. Realizing that I still had my phone in my pocket, I pulled it out and dialed Tiny. Thankfully, he answered on the first ring.

“Yo.”

“Tiny,” I whispered into the phone.

“Mel? You’ll have to speak up. I can barely hear you.”

“I can’t,” I hissed, “Listen, I’m at the Bourtonson place looking in the cellar window right at Detective Shorts. They have him tied up and—”

I never got a chance to finish my statement for at that very moment someone had spotted me. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

I dropped my phone into my jacket pocket hoping that it would remain connected to Tiny. I took off. Though I knew my chances of getting away were slim, it was still worth a try. I crashed through some brush as I darted around a corner only to run right into one of the cousins. His strong hands seized my wrists yanking me to a stop; my flashlight thudded in the dirt. Despite my efforts, I was no match for him. Another reached us, dressed in the black cloak and hat that I had seen previously.

“Stop your struggling or we’ll knock you out,” growled the one holding me.

Knowing I’d never get away, I went limp.

“That’s better,” he said as he dragged me to the cellar door and down the rotting wood steps. The harsh grip on my arm began to hurt. My captor thrust me into a chair and before I knew it, rope had been tied around my ankles and wrists. A soft moan forced me to glance to my left. Detective Shorts sat next to me.

“Detective?” I whispered. “Detective are you all right?”

Slowly, an eye popped open focusing right on me. As though an electric shock had struck him, Detective Shorts’ head snapped upright as his full attention concentrated on me. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Long story,” I said.

I glanced around the cellar and the tables coated with plaster covered items. So this is what it was all about? Selling fakes and making money? Where did Philip Kellmore come in?

“So this is where that flea market guy was getting his ivory,” I said.

“Yeah,” answered one of the cousins. I didn’t know which one as I could not tell them apart. “We were sitting pretty for the last five years making these items look like the real thing. The guy at the market was more than willing to sell them for a cut.”

“Would you shut up?” roared another, “Just tell her everything why don’t you.”

“Not like it’s going to matter. They won’t be talking to anyone once we’re through.”

I glanced at my pocket hoping that my phone was still connected to Tiny’s. “So what really happened to Philip Kellmore? Did you guys kill him?”

“You are nosy,” said Kyle as he approached. “I should have known better than to allow you in my office, but I thought it worthwhile to find out what you knew. I must say, you did an excellent job of pretending to be clueless.”

“Did you murder your father?” I demanded, my voice turned to ice.

“I didn’t have to. That was Aunt Alicia’s doing. It wasn’t hard. My father had a heart condition. Everyone knew that. A little injection of extra adrenaline, a man dressed as a ghost, and—poof!— he had a heart attack. Too bad you had to go snooping around. I was hoping—” Kyle ran his index finger down my arm “—to know you better.”

I jerked away as best I could. Kyle just laughed maniacally, clearly enjoying the entire episode. His phone rang. “Aunt Alicia,” he said upon answering, “I know…We’re cleaning up right now…About an hour…Understood.”

“Well,” he turned back to me after hanging up, “looks like you and your detective friend will be swimming later. You really should learn to mind your own business.”

The sound of thundering hooves echoed outside as it approached and then stopped. A horse whinnied before charging off again.

“What was that?” asked one of the cousins.

“Nothing,” said Kyle; a slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“That wasn’t nothing. There’s been weird stuff going on at this place ever since we arrived.”

“Oh, quit your crying,” said Kyle. “Get this stuff cleaned up and let’s get out of here.”

The lights went out.

“What was that?”

“Probably the generator.”

I just listened to the exchange between my captors.

“Go check it out,” ordered Kyle.