Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 02 - A Spirited Tail (11 page)

Claire leaned over the counter, her light gray eyes, sharp and clear, drilled into mine. “I’m interested mainly in some handwritten journals that I believe Charles Van Dorn kept.”

An invisible hand squeezed my heart. 

Bing had asked me about handwritten journals, too. Why was everyone suddenly so interested in them?

I studied Claire. She seemed harmless enough. Her silvery hair was swept up in a barrette in the back from which a thick, lustrous fountain of hair fell halfway down her back. The pale green dress hung on her thin frame. My eyes fell to her neck where she wore an unusual silver necklace—double serpents intertwined with light green chalcedony stones. 

She stared at me intently, but her gaze didn’t feel menacing. If it weren’t for the fact that she was hanging around with Felicity, I probably would have just thought she was a nice old lady who dressed oddly.

But she
was
hanging with Felicity, which made her request all the more suspicious.

“I haven’t come across any journals,” I said sweetly.

Felicity pressed her lips together. “I told you she wouldn’t help.”

Claire shot her an angry look out of the corner of her eye. 

“Now, now. If she hasn’t seen them, she hasn’t seen them.” She turned back to me, her face transforming from angry to sweetly smiling. “But if you come across them, I do hope you will let me know.”

She produced a business card from her pocket and slid it across the counter, the scent of patchouli drifting across along with it. My eyes widened as I read it—‘Claire Smith-Baker - Spiritual Medium’.

“You’re a medium?” 

She nodded. “Yes, dear. I talk to dead people.”

I glanced nervously at the area where Robert Frost had been, relaxing when I noticed he wasn’t there. I didn’t want Claire to know I had ghosts in my store or that I talked to them.

I slid the card into my pocket. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Excellent.” She turned to leave, pulling Felicity along with her. “I’m staying at the Bates Mansion and my cell phone number is on the back of the card.”

The Bates Mansion was a monstrosity on the outskirts of town, high up on the mountain.  It loomed over the valley with its spiked roof lines and black metal wrought iron fence. The side of it had been blown off in an unfortunate incident that I’d injured my hand in earlier in the summer, but I imagined they had probably fixed that by now. I had made it a point not to drive by and check. But if Claire was staying there, it meant she must be a good friend of the family. My lips quirked up in a smile as I wondered if ornery old Idris Bates, the family patriarch, had gotten himself a girlfriend.

The two women exited the shop, Felicity spearing me with a hate-filled glance before she slammed the door shut.

I stared at the door, listening to the rain drum on the window. What was so special about this hand written journal?  It seemed like quite a few people were after it and I had to wonder if the journal had anything to do with Van Dorn’s murder fifty years ago. Where had it been all these years and why all the sudden interest? 

I blew out my cheeks, slipping Claire’s card out of my pocket for another look. I shouldn’t be surprised that she claimed to be a medium. Felicity claimed to be some sort of witch and Idris had an evil disposition, so it stood to reason they’d have a friend that could talk to the dead.

Maybe Pepper was right and Bruce’s murder
was
related to Van Dorn’s. Maybe they both had something to do with these journals everyone wanted, and if I followed the clues to Bruce’s murder I would figure out what happened to Van Dorn. It sure would be easier to follow fresh clues than ones that were fifty years old. Then again, my main suspect for Bruce’s murder was Steve Van Dorn and he was too young to have killed Charles.

As I stared out the window, the drumming rain tapered off. Pandora came out from the back of the store and reclaimed her spot at the window. Ranger sighed and rolled on his side. The sun came out and a colorful rainbow appeared in the sky. 

The sidewalk filled with tourists who had taken refuge from the rain inside the various shops and I noticed a familiar figure struggling down the sidewalk with a large bag.

The shop door opened and Jimmy Ford lumbered in, dropping the huge, twenty-five pound bag on the floor with a thud.

Ranger lifted his head and sniffed. 

“I brought some of Ranger’s food from Bruce Norton’s house.” Jimmy bent down to pat Ranger, who had walked over to sniff the bag. “I figured he should have what he was used to eating.”

“Thanks. Were you there looking for clues?” I must be slipping because I hadn’t thought that there could be a clue to Bruce’s murder at his house. Then again, I reminded myself that I wasn’t really investigating Bruce’s murder.

“Yep.” 

“How is the case coming?”

Jimmy looked startled, then glanced at the floor. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say …”

“Oh, I wouldn’t tell.” I leaned toward him. “Maybe I can even help.”

Jimmy looked at me hopefully. “Well, I really could use some help. I don’t feel like I’ve contributed much and—”

The door burst open and Pepper came rushing in carrying a large tray loaded with cookies, porcelain teacups and saucers, a steaming teapot and handmade tea bags.

She zoned in on Jimmy. “Hi, Jimmy. Would you like some tea and oatmeal cookies? They’re fresh out of the oven.”

I frowned at her. Had she been hovering in her store window, waiting for him to walk by so she could fix him with one of her herbal teas?  It surely seemed that way.

Jimmy’s face lit up. “Oatmeal cookies are my favorite.”

Pepper ignored my frown and invited Jimmy over to the sofa. Ranger flopped down beside it, one eye on the bag of food.  Pepper started her pouring ritual. First putting the tea bags in the cups, then pouring the steaming water over them. 

“Lemon?” she asked Jimmy, who shook his head. 

She put a cookie on a napkin and handed it to Jimmy while the tea steeped. 

“Milk?” She pointed to a tiny silver creamer on the tray. Jimmy nodded and she poured a dash into a blue and white porcelain cup, then handed it to Jimmy.

“Jimmy just came from Bruce Norton’s with some dog food for Ranger.” I skirted around the counter and stooped to snag a cookie from the tray.

“Oh, really?” Pepper turned inquisitive eyes on Jimmy. “Did you find anything at his place that could lead to arresting his killer?”

Jimmy’s eyes shifted nervously from Pepper to me and back again.

“It’s okay. You can tell us,” I encouraged him. “I know how Gus can make it hard on new recruits and I still remember a few investigative techniques from my former job, so maybe I can help you out.”

“Would you?” Jimmy brightened. “Augusta said you used to be a crime journalist. She raves about your investigative techniques. I could learn a lot from you.”

I paused, momentarily taken aback. Gus raved about me?  I had no idea my sister was proud of my former career. She usually acted like my investigating habits were a nuisance. 

“Sure, I could help you,” I said. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

Jimmy slurped the last of the tea from his cup and I noticed Pepper had a satisfied smirk on her face. He grabbed a cookie and bit in.

“Well, we didn’t find anything at Bruce Norton’s house.”

Ranger let out a pathetic whine at the mention of his former master’s name and Jimmy leaned over, gingerly giving him a few pats on the head. I mentally considered adding Jimmy to my list of potential adopters for Ranger, but then dismissed the thought. He seemed a bit afraid of the dog and I had my doubts as to whether he could handle him properly.

“Really? What did you see? Was there anything amiss?”

“Not really. No signs of a struggle or anything to indicate he had an ongoing disagreement with anyone.” Jimmy chewed his cookie thoughtfully. “There was one thing that seemed odd, but I’m not sure it meant anything.”

My gut started to tingle. “That’s good. As an investigator, you need to go with your instincts. What was it?”

“He had a folder full of pictures, documents and newspaper clippings open on the dining room table, like he was studying or something. But they were old and yellowed, from a long time ago.”

“Really?” I mumbled, trying to choke down the cookie that had turned to a lump of paste in my mouth. I had a sneaking suspicion those pictures had something to do with the murders of Charles and Lily. Maybe there
was
a connection between the two murders. Bruce had been friendly with the Van Dorn crowd back then so maybe he knew something about the murders. Or maybe
Bruce
was the killer, but if he was, then who killed
him
and why? I needed to get to Bruce’s place and take a look for myself.

“Do you think that’s relevant? I wasn’t sure if I should mention it to Augusta.”

“Meow!” Pandora jumped onto the counter and skidded down the length, flipping a yellow highlighter off the top. The highlighter clattered on the floor and rolled under the couch.

“What’s with her?” Pepper asked.

“She’s been acting strange all day. I think having a canine guest is affecting her behavior.” I fished under the couch to retrieve the pen, then returned my attention to Jimmy. “That could be an important clue or maybe not. I wonder if I could get a look over there and then I could let you know if you should mention it to Gus.”

“Oh, I don’t know if Augusta would like it if I just brought you over there.” Jimmy shook his head, his face turning pale.

“Well, I do need to go and pick up some of Ranger’s things …” I let my voice trail off.

“Oh, right. I guess maybe there’d be no harm in that. But right now I have to get back to the station. I’ll be in touch about going to Bruce’s.” 

He stood to leave and I rushed over to the counter to grab one of my business cards.

“Here’s my cell phone number if you want to get in touch.” I shoved the card at him, making a mental note to keep my cell phone turned on—I considered it an intrusion and rarely used it. I had one more question I hoped to have answered. “Did you find the murder weapon?”

He shook his head. “Nope. We’re not sure what it was, exactly. Some type of heavy, blunt instrument. We set up a search grid in the surrounding woods, but found nothing. Augusta said we may have to widen the grid, but she’s afraid the killer took it with them.”

“Meow!” Pandora leaped onto the coffee table and Pepper had to react quickly to keep the teapot from spilling to the floor.

“Pandora cut it out!” I swiped at the cat who deftly avoided my grasp, then retreated to the counter to glare at me, her tail high above her head, the kink at the end making it look like she was pointing outside.

“I’ll be in touch about going to Bruce’s.” Jimmy swung the door open, then turned back to look at me. “Oh, there is one other thing you might be interested in.”

“What?”  I tried not to sound too eager.

“That symbol on Bruce’s forehead …”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think it was done by any kind of ghost or part of any fifty-year-old curse. Not unless the ghost went to a craft store recently.”

“Why do you say that?”

“That symbol was written with alcohol-based markers like artists use. I do some drawing myself and use them. They didn’t exist fifty years ago. The lab was even able to nail down the exact make and color of marker.” He pressed his lips together, squinted his eyes and looked up at the ceiling for few seconds. “If memory serves me right … yes … it was a Copic Y28 Lionet Gold marker, to be exact.”

Chapter Eleven

That night, my mind whirled with questions as I drove to Van Dorn’s. Why was everyone after the journal? Who was Charles’ lover? Who killed Lily? Did Bruce’s murder have anything to do with Charles’ murder fifty years ago? And last but not least, where was the murder weapon?

Not only that, but I was becoming increasingly concerned about Pandora’s behavior. She’d been acting so wild at the shop that I almost didn’t want to bring her in with me the next day. I’d taken her and Ranger home and fed them dinner after work. When I’d left on my way to Van Dorn’s, she’d tried to sneak into my car. 

I’d finally had to lock her cat door as well as the door to the basement—I knew she had a secret exit down there that I hadn’t been able to figure out yet. I’d driven away to the sound of her wailing inside the house. I was afraid that Ranger’s presence was driving her over the edge and figured I’d better find him a new home soon.

I parked behind Steve’s yellow Dodge, a tingle of doubt running through me. I felt funny about being in the house alone. What if he
had
killed Bruce? I didn’t relish the thought of being alone in a remote house with a killer, but if he really was the killer, surely Gus would have figured it out and had him arrested by now.  I had to finish cataloguing the library, so I shrugged it off and climbed the porch steps, taking care not to step on the rickety boards that had come loose.

I hesitated at the front door, unsure if I should just walk in. Even though Steve knew I was coming, it felt odd to barge in unannounced.

“Hello! It’s me, Willa!” I yelled into the house.

“In here.” Steve’s voice sounded like it was far away—he must be in the back.

I walked down the hall toward the library, stopping short when I reached the doorway and saw Steve inside, rummaging through one of the shelves, a stack of books piled on the floor beside him.

“What are you doing?” My heart sank looking at the mess. 

“Hey, Willa. Have you seen any hand-written journals in here?”

“What? No.”

“Oh.” Steve looked disappointed. “Some old biddy came by and offered me a lot of money for them.”

“Did she have long, gray hair and a mean-looking redheaded side kick?”

“Yes.” Steve looked at me surprised. “How’d you know?”

“She came to my store, too.”

“Huh! Those must be mighty important.” Steve rubbed the two-day-old stubble on his chin. “I should charge more. I bet she’d pay twice what she was offering.”

I didn’t reply, choosing to start putting the books neatly back in their place instead. “I need to keep these shelves the way they were so I can keep track of the books I’ve catalogued,” I explained.