Red Ochre Falls (13 page)

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Authors: Kristen Gibson

BOOK: Red Ochre Falls
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CHAPTER 13

 
 

It started to rain, and I’d forgotten my rain gear in Garrett’s car.
Today was not going my way. I could run inside and curl up in a ball, but I
thought ice cream might help me feel better. Ryder’s car was still there, so
there was time for a grocery run. I pulled my keys out and rumbled off to grab
something to satisfy my need for sweets.

The grocery store
was parked up. Probably full of people buying goodies for their Labor Day
celebrations—I was going to need a lot of chocolate sauce and whipped
cream to get through the weekend alone.

By the time I got
inside the store, the rain had soaked me clear through. I dripped and squeaked
my way over to the freezer section. My outlook improved as I scanned countless
varieties of frozen pies, cakes and desserts until I found what I wanted—jackpot.
I opened the freezer door and a blast of icy air hit me. I tried to move
quickly, but my hands were frozen as soon as they grabbed the container.
Carrying ice cream in already cold hands was painful. I should have picked up a
basket. The freezer door slammed shut as I turned to leave. One step, and I
bumped into Garrett.

 
“Planning a party?” he sounded friendly.

“It’s not a party
unless there’s chocolate,” I said, and brushed past him.

“You look cold. Can
I carry that for you?” He took the ice cream and we walked over to the
toppings. I may have drooled over the chocolate, marshmallow, and caramel
sauces, but it was hard to tell since I was still dripping wet.

“So many choices,”
I searched for the right one, and waited for him to explain himself.

“I like the milk
chocolate, or hot fudge.” He grabbed them both. “What do you think?” He held up
both jars for me to choose.

Things could get
ugly if he expected me to share after what happened earlier. I gave him a
sideways look.

“Why don’t we get
both?” Garrett started walking toward the dairy case. He seemed to have a plan,
so I followed and watched as he poked around the cooler. After he picked up
some whipped cream, he turned and looked at me. “You know, we really ought to
have dinner first.”

“This afternoon
hasn’t gone too well, and I’m soaking wet. Ice cream was going to be my
dinner.” I sounded pathetic.

“I have something
else in mind. Let me grab a few more things. Then we’ll get out of here and get
you out of those wet clothes.”

I raised my eyebrows
at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s
just food…for now.” He flashed a warm smile my way, so I did the same for him.
It was hard to stay mad when he was obviously trying to make amends.

Garrett proceeded
to snag a cart and filled it with our goodies, then added cheese, bread,
salami, grapes, and wine. We checked out and he walked me to the car.

“Nice ride. Can I
borrow it sometime?”

“It’s a loaner. But
I know a guy who knows a guy.” We both laughed.

“See you back at
the parlor,” he winked and took the groceries with him.

We parked next to
each other back at the parlor. Ryder was in the back office when we came in. He
looked at me and did a double take.

“Lost a fight with
a fire hose,” I joked. “I’ll change and come right back, so you can give me the
rundown and get out of here.”

“Cool.”

I sloshed down the
hallway from the office to the stairs then squeaked my way upstairs. I was
drying out, but would need a hot shower to ever feel warm again. All I needed
was a quick shot of heat, so I threw off my clothes and jumped in the shower.
For five minutes, the water beat on my back and neck. I quickly washed then
dried off and got dressed.

 

I got back
downstairs and noticed Ryder had left.

“Did I make him
mad?”

“No, I just gave
him a hint and he took it.”

“You shouldn’t give
Ryder the wrong idea, I don’t want to get in trouble. I acted weird earlier,
but it was because you were busy getting cozy with Tess instead of getting
answers about Chloe’s death. Whatever you two had or have going, is up to you.
I just want to find out what really happened to her and put it to rest.” It was
mostly true.

“I was trying to
get answers.”

“Look, this isn’t a
game. My mom and I need this job, and we need a roof over our heads.” It needed
to be said.

“I’m not playing,”
he looked serious. “I didn’t tell you Tess could be manipulative, but I
expected she might try. I cared about her before, but even then she had her
faults. It was important for you to be there not only to ask questions, but I
needed to see how she responded when you prodded, unrehearsed, about Chloe’s
death.”

“Oh,” I said
quietly.
 

“Having you there
to ask questions gave me an opportunity to watch her respond. The more you
pushed, the more uncomfortable she appeared.”

“I caught her
fidgeting. She sure poured on extra sweetness for you, though. You noticed all
that?”

“Yes, of course. I
played into it to find out how bad she wanted us out of there. She only got
sweet to distract us from the real issue—something doesn’t add up about
the exam, or the report. I thought you could tell.”

“No. I thought you
still cared for her. I—I feel terrible for walking out like that.” I sank
thinking of how childish it must have looked to him.

“You may not have
understood, but it worked like a charm.”

“What did?”

“The plan.”

“It did? You mean
you got the information?”

“Not exactly, but I
have a good idea of where to find it.”

Garrett picked up
the sack of groceries and walked me to the back hall. He put the ice cream in
the freezer above the fridge used for keeping lunches and drinks cold then took
me out the back door where we parked our cars. The rain had cleared, although
everything was still wet.

“It’s nice enough,
I thought we could eat out here.”

I looked at the paved
driveway and our cars and wondered if he meant for us to sit on the side porch.
A puzzled look crossed my face.

He held up a
finger, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He came out with a
large plaid blanket and shook it out over a spot near my car. “It gets boring
eating inside all the time,” he said. “I got this to sit outside and catch some
actual daylight on slow days.”

My eyebrows raised,
impressed by his impromptu picnic. The blanket had a backing, so we wouldn’t
get wet.

Garrett ran back
inside and brought out some plastic cups. He used a pocketknife combo to uncork
the wine then poured two glasses and handed one to me.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” We
clinked glasses.

Garrett sat down
with his drink and patted a space near him so I’d sit. As I sat down, he pulled
out paper plates and filled them with bread, cheese and other foods. He gave me
a plate and we started to eat.

“Thanks, this is
nice.”

“My pleasure, I
thought you could use a change of scenery. I did a lot of work on that
apartment, so I know it’s nice, but it’s small.”

 
“It is smaller than our old house, but at
least it’s a roof, you know?” I sighed when I looked at him then took a drink
of wine. “Besides, I like old homes like this. They have a lot of history and
character.”

“And a lot to
repair and replace,” he chuckled then made a sandwich out of some salami, bread
and cheese.

“I appreciate
this…picnic.” The tension I’d felt since he told me we were going to see his
ex-girlfriend eased.

“No problem.” He
clinked my glass again before he took another drink from his. We ate, drank,
talked and watched the sky clear enough the sun burst through high clouds over
us.

At one point, he
caught me staring at him. I sat up straight and tried to act like it hadn’t
happened. Instead, I just blurted out what I’d been thinking. “What’s going on
with you?” It came out too abruptly, so I tried to cover. “I mean what’s going
on between you and Derek.” It was a fair question. Derek acted strange around
him and I wanted to know why.

Garrett shot me a
sly smile. Even though he didn’t owe me an explanation, I hoped he’d let me in
on the big secret.

“You know there are
a lot of stories to go with this old place. And since we’re in the business
we’re in, there are even some pretty good ghost stories.”

I figured this was
a stall tactic, but a ghost story sounded interesting. He watched to see if I
was receptive to hearing it, or maybe he was hesitant to scare me since I’d be
alone tonight. Thinking about being alone made me hope Garrett would have a
reason to stop by tomorrow. Although, I didn’t want to wish people dead just to
see him, I sure thought about it.

“This used to be
ancient Indian land. The heads of many tribes would assemble near an old
ceremonial tree that sat on this very property.” He pointed to the corner of
the parking lot.

There was no tree
that I could see, just asphalt and a dumpster.

“People came from
all over to discuss leadership appointments, land disputes and other important
issues. This was a gathering place, and a place of ceremony where the ancient
people danced, celebrated, and gave thanks to the Great Spirit.”

Garrett settled in
and told me more of the story. “Sometime around 1865, a wealthy tycoon named
Samuel Davis made a deal to take over the land. He agreed to split some of it
with several businessmen he knew.”

I leaned in,
grabbed a couple grapes and snacked on them while Garrett told more of the
story.

“Davis made plans
to clear most of the land and build Amelia, his bride-to-be, the finest
Victorian home in the area. This home. And if that gesture wasn’t impressive
enough, he planned to build another home for her sister over there.” Garrett
pointed across the street to the Davis and Sons Funeral Home.

“Just before the
land was taken over by Samuel Davis and his cronies, an Indian Shaman came and
warned the men not to tear the trees down. Davis agreed, but later found out
Amelia had secretly met with a young Indian near the great ceremonial tree.
When Davis found out, he didn’t ask questions. He just bulldozed the lot, trees
and all, as a symbol of his power and dominance.”

“What happened to
Amelia and the young man?” I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms
around them. I had to know more.

“Amelia claimed
they were just friends, but Davis called off the wedding. He kept his promise
to give Amelia’s sister the house across the street, partly to torment Amelia.
Considered tainted by scandal, Amelia’s sister took her in, and she lived there
the rest of her life.”

“Did anything
happen to Davis?”

“The way I heard
it, the Shaman paid Davis a visit and told him, ‘It is one thing to take a
man’s land, and quite another to take his heart.’ The Shaman told Davis that
he, and anyone who owned the home would be haunted by ancient spirits until
they made amends for the offense.” Garrett eyed me. I sat mesmerized.

“But, if Samuel
Davis lived here, why isn’t this place named Davis and Sons Funeral Home?”

“Because Samuel
Davis found out the Shaman was right. Davis’s old journals give accounts of the
house’s first ghost sightings. Davis feared he’d go insane. He swapped houses
with his ex-fiancée and her sister. The women moved here, and Davis settled in
with one of Amelia’s cousins over there.”

“He doesn’t sound
like a very nice guy.” I wondered if Samuel Davis was a distant relative of
Derek Davis.

“He wasn’t a good
guy, and his offspring didn’t turn out much different, in my opinion.” Garrett
took a drink of wine and looked distant.

“Is Samuel the one
behind the Davis and Sons Funeral Home?”

“He’s ancestor to
our very own Derek Davis. Although, Samuel didn’t start the funeral business,
that happened after my Great-great Grandpa Mackenzie, a cabinetmaker by trade,
took over this house in the 1920s when Amelia’s family vacated.

Back in the day, a
number of cabinetmakers made caskets for burying the dead. Grandpa had the idea
to create a formal place to hold funeral services, and found this old beauty.
The business was such a success, a few years later, one of grandpa’s school
friends—a member of the Davis Family—copied his idea, and opened
Davis and Sons Funeral Home.”

There was bad blood
between the families, but whatever was on Garrett’s mind went beyond an old
rivalry. I searched his face for answers, as if studying Garrett would provide
more insight into what happened between him and Derek. Garrett caught me
looking and he loosened up. The distant look was replaced by a focused energy
on me, and telling the story.

“I don’t think
Grandpa Mackenzie knew about the curse until after he turned this place into a
funeral home. There were stories, even articles, about the place being haunted,
but as far as I know, we haven’t had a ghost around since my crazy Grandpa
Stanley claimed to see one at his grandma’s funeral. He told us the ghost
chased him to the third floor where he hid under a chair for a couple hours
until his dad found him.” Maybe Grandpa Stanley had seen a ghost, it would
explain a lot.

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