The Ex Who Saw a Ghost (Charley's Ghost Book 4) (13 page)

“Don’t know,” Jake said. “We don’t even know where he was killed. The well was a secondary crime scene. Parker’s body was moved.”

“Oh, yes, Parker said something about his journey out there when he didn’t realize he was dead.”

“Parker said?” Jake’s eyes narrowed and his gaze sharpened.

Uh oh. If she knew which gadget had the pain meds, she could give it a little bump to be sure he stayed dopey. But she didn’t. The best she could do was change the subject. “The other bodies, were they killed somewhere else too?”

Jake’s eyelids drooped.

Amanda cleared her throat again. “The other bodies? Any idea who they are?”

Jake’s eyes opened and focused. “The decomp is so bad except for Parker and Steven Anderson, it’s going to be tough to figure it out. Anderson was involved in drugs and the other bodies have bad teeth. That happens a lot with meth users. This could all be about drugs.”

“Drugs? It’s hard to picture an eighty-five year old man snorting a line of coke or trying to find a vein to shoot up.”

Jake gave a lopsided grin. “That’s not exactly what we were thinking. Could be somebody’s cooking meth on his property. Middle of nowhere, elderly man who rarely gets out. It would be a perfect place. That might explain the people he sees.”

Lila used meth. From the regularity of her phone calls with Stanley Wagner, it seemed likely he was her dealer, and the possibility this was the same Stanley Wagner they’d met was increasing. He could even be the one cooking meth on Carstairs’ property.

That did it. She had to tell Jake what they’d discovered about Lila’s phone call. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with the best way to phrase it. “I have reason to believe that Lila Stone may know Stanley Wagner.” That sounded way better than,
My ex-husband’s ghost found calls between Lila and Stanley when he swept through her phone after she got upset over a call that came in while I was at her place with Ross and Teresa.

Jake blinked a couple of times. “Lila Stone? Who’s Lila Stone?”

Apparently the cops hadn’t found that connection yet. “Parker’s...umm....it’s a long story. We’ll talk about it later.” She’d tried to tell him. She’d done her duty. She rose. “I guess I better leave and let you rest.”

He smiled and reached for her with his good hand.

She took his hand in hers.

“I’m going to have a couple of weeks off when I get out of here before they’ll let me go back to work. Maybe we could go somewhere together. It’ll still be warm on Padre Island.” Amanda’s heart soared. “Just the two of us, get away from all the crazy stuff around here.”

Her heart sank.
Just the two of us
would be great but not possible. She’d have to take along her ghostly chaperone. Nevertheless, she smiled. “I’d love that.”

He tugged her closer.

She leaned toward him. Her lips touched his. Even on drugs, he was a great kisser.

“Carstairs didn’t do it!” Charley shouted. “Hey, what’s going on? What are you doing?”

Amanda jerked upright, thrust in one instant from the delicious warmth of Jake’s lips to the sharp cold of Charley’s presence.

“I leave you alone for one minute and come back to find you cheating on me!” Charley glowered, his face a study in rage.

Jake blinked in confusion. She could only hope he was so drugged he wouldn’t remember this aborted kiss.

“I’m glad you caught Parker’s murderer,” she said. “Hope you get to go home soon.”

“Can you get a move on?” Charley stood just inside the doorway, motioning her out. “Parker’s all in a tizzy about an innocent man being arrested.”

Amanda squeezed Jake’s hand. “See you later.”

His smile put the warmth back in her heart. “I’m glad you came by.”

She brushed past Charley into the corridor. “Not so innocent,” she whispered. “He shot a police officer.”

“Yeah, well, defending a man’s freedom and property from a cop who’s not even in uniform is a far cry from being blamed for killing six people.”

There was no point in trying to correct Charley’s deliberate perversion of the facts about the shooting. “They have evidence that incriminates the man.”

A nurse coming down the hall gave Amanda a quizzical look.

If living with Charley didn’t get her sent to the psych ward, talking to him in public was going to. Just one more thing to add to her list of complaints against him.

Charley lifted his chin and looked down his nose. “Parker says he didn’t do it, and Parker should know who killed him.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and went through the door to the stairs with Charley close behind. “So Parker says it, and that settles things? Why doesn’t Parker just come to Carstairs’ trial and testify that he’s innocent? That should settle things.”

Charley’s forehead furrowed. “He can’t do that. Nobody can see him except Teresa and me.”

“Still haven’t got a handle on sarcasm, have you?” Amanda went down the stairs then pushed through the revolving door and outside into the fresh autumn air, a major improvement over the stale hospital air. 

A slender woman with dark hair rushed toward her, a slender woman she knew well.

Amanda stopped and blinked. “Teresa?”

“Thanks for coming out. I hated to interrupt you and Jake, but Parker insisted. He’s very upset.”

Amanda looked at Charley then back to Teresa. “What’s going on?”

“Didn’t Charley tell you?” Teresa blew out a long sigh. “Parker says Carstairs didn’t kill him.”

“Yes, he told me that part. He didn’t tell me you were here. How did you know where to find me?”

“Charley and Parker. They’ve joined forces, heaven help us all. Ross and I were having a really good time what with the mystery of his brother’s death solved and no reason to talk about ghosts.” She slid an annoyed gaze toward the right. Amanda assumed Parker was there. “But then Parker came in and started nagging at me to tell Ross that Carstairs is innocent. Have you ever tried to be romantic with a ghost nagging at you? Well, yes, I guess you have. When I ignored him, he ran off to find his new best friend.” She scowled at Charley. “He returned knowing how to turn the lights and TV on and off and make the volume loud enough for the neighbors in the next county to hear. Thank you, Charley, for teaching him all those wonderful things.”

Charley smiled.

“He’s not good with sarcasm,” Amanda said.

“That was sarcasm?” Charley looked offended.

Teresa looked frustrated. “Anyway, it was either get into an argument with a ghost in front of Ross or send him home. Ross, I mean. I wish I could send the ghost home.”

Amanda spread her hands in confusion. “Okay, you sent Ross home without telling him about Carstairs. That didn’t make Parker happy. But why are you here?” She had a feeling she knew why, but in case she was wrong, she wasn’t going to give Parker any ideas.

“You’re next on the list. He wants you to tell your police friend—his words—that Carstairs didn’t kill him in spite of the evidence because the victim’s ghost, speaking through me, says so. He wants to start this whole thing all over. Ruin my relationship with Ross again.”

Amanda shook her head. “Not happening. Even if my police friend wasn’t lying in the hospital, wounded, on drugs...which he is...I wouldn’t tell him that. They matched the bullet that killed Parker to one of Carstairs’ guns.”

“Yes, Ross told me all that. He’s very relieved they found his brother’s killer—” She flinched and lifted her hands to the sides of her head. “Okay, okay, I understand he didn’t kill you, Parker. Let me rephrase that. Ross is very relieved because he thinks they found his brother’s killer. He’s become his old self and our relationship is back on track.” Again she looked to her right. “At least, it was.”

A couple walked out of the hospital and glanced in their direction.

“Let’s go sit in your car to discuss this,” Amanda suggested.

They walked across the lot to the sapphire blue BMW convertible parked beside Amanda’s motorcycle.

“I’m glad you finally put the top up,” Amanda said. “I don’t really want to have this discussion in the open air where people can hear us and think we’re nuts.”

Teresa laughed, but the sound lacked her usual spark. “I agree.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “It’s a little claustrophobic with the top up, but it beats talking to ghosts in public.”

Charley floated down between them. He usually perched on the back of Teresa’s car behind the seats, but with the top up, that spot wasn’t available.

“A little crowded too,” Amanda said. “I suppose Parker’s here as well.”

Teresa nodded. “He’s behind me, half inside and half outside.”

“Parker, even if the man didn’t shoot you, he shot Jake and maybe those other men in that well. He’s not an innocent man.”

Teresa drew a hand through her hair and shook her head. “He’s only concerned with the fact that Carstairs didn’t kill him. I guess the other dead people are on their own.”

“Parker, this is getting ridiculous. If you want the cops to believe that Carstairs didn’t kill you, you’re going to have to tell us who did. Give them somebody else to investigate.”

Silence.

Teresa shook her head again. “He refuses to say who his killer is, just that it’s not Carstairs.”

“Then we’re done,” Amanda said. “We’re going to have to let the cops figure this out and come to whatever conclusion they come to.”

“I’m afraid she’s right, old buddy,” Charley said. “The cops aren’t going to pay any attention to your story. They’re total dunderheads. Let them do their thing with Carstairs while we go grab a beer.”

“You can’t grab a beer,” Amanda reminded him, “and the cops aren’t dunderheads. When Carstairs—or whoever—killed the senator’s son and dumped him in that well with the others, they made a huge mistake. Jake said by tomorrow that place will be swarming with law enforcement officers from everywhere. They’re working on the warrants right now. They’ll gather evidence, take Carstairs to trial and let a judge and jury determine his guilt or innocence. That’s the best we can do.” She turned to Teresa. “We found Parker’s body and Ross took care of his bank account. Isn’t there a white light or something he needs to go to?”

Teresa gave a very long sigh. “That’s the ultimate goal, but he says he can’t leave if his death is blamed on an innocent man. We need to go with him to talk to Carstairs.”

Amanda gazed toward the empty space behind Teresa. “Parker, Carstairs is in jail. I’m not sure he’s accepting social calls.”

“He says if we talk to him and Parker is convinced he’s guilty of other crimes—”

“You mean like shooting a police officer?”

“That’s a start, but he’s thinking more like he might be guilty of shooting those other guys in the well. If he’s convinced Carstairs is a murderer even though he isn’t responsible for his murder, he says he’ll try to move on.”

“He’ll
try
?” Amanda repeated. “That’s not exactly a signed and notarized affidavit.”

“It’s better than nothing. Look, help me get Parker on his way so I can have a relationship with Ross, and I’ll owe you a dozen evenings of babysitting Charley so you can be with Jake.”

“Babysit me?” Charley folded his arms across his chest. “I won’t go with you.”

He had no choice, but Amanda wasn’t going to argue with him. “If it works, fifteen evenings, one week continuous. If we do it but Parker doesn’t leave, I still get ten evenings, five of them together.”

Teresa frowned. “Five evenings in a row?”

“So Jake and I can take a trip together.”

Charley flung his arms wide. “Nobody asked me if I agree to this! I don’t!”

“Deal,” Teresa said.

Amanda drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “I used to lead a normal life until I married Charley. Now I’m sitting in a car, making deals that involve ghosts.”

“At least you had a few good years. I’ve talked to them most of my life.”

“If only I could find a way back in time. Instead of saying
I do
, I’d say,
No freaking way
.”

“Hey!” Charley protested. “We had some good times.”

“Well, you can’t go back,” Teresa said, “so I guess we’re going to jail.”

Amanda parked her bike beside Teresa’s car in the small lot next to the Kraken County Jail in the middle of beautiful downtown Grackle, the county seat of Kraken County. In spite of the harsh sounding names, the town square was charming. Many of the original buildings from the turn of the century were still there including a courthouse, a bank that had become a jewelry store and a grocery store converted to an ice cream parlor.

Teresa slid out of the front seat. “I’ve been thinking about this. I’ll go in as Carstairs’ lawyer. That way we can be sure we’ll get to talk to him.”

She could probably carry it off. She looked regal and elegant in dark slacks and a blue pullover that matched her car. Amanda hadn’t changed clothes. She still wore jeans, leather jacket and motorcycle boots. She ran a hand over her hair that had been under a helmet most of the day. That did nothing to help the frizz. She couldn’t even pass for Teresa’s assistant.

“You do know it’s illegal to impersonate an attorney,” Amanda pointed out.

“Only if I offer him legal advice. I won’t do that since I don’t have any to offer.” Teresa opened the tall wooden door to the building and glided inside like a model on a runway.

Amanda, Charley and, presumably, Parker, followed.

The place had been updated to the extent that one side of the room was walled off except for a large window that exposed a cluttered metal desk. A short, stout woman with short, stout gray hair rose from behind the desk and strode over to the waist-high window. “Help you?” she said into the microphone. A name tag on her beige uniform identified her as Deputy Alexander.

Teresa smiled.

Deputy Alexander did not. If only she’d been a man, she’d have been smitten with Teresa’s smile and they’d have been in with no problem.

Charley darted inside the cubicle. Being rude and nosy again.

“We’re here to see Lloyd Carstairs,” Teresa said. “I’m his attorney.”

Deputy Alexander crossed her arms over her chest. “Can I see some identification?”

Charley came out to rejoin them. “She’s got about a bazillion pictures of kids on her desk. Must be grandkids.”

Amanda stepped up to the window and edged Teresa over. “We’re his granddaughters. I’m Amanda Caulfield, and this is Teresa Landow.”

Deputy Alexander’s eyebrows sank low over her dark eyes. “Why’d you say you’re his attorney?”

“She is an attorney,” Charley advised, “but right now she’s just his grieving granddaughter.”

“My sister is an attorney,” Amanda lied smoothly, “but mostly she’s his granddaughter. We haven’t seen Granddad in years.” She sighed. “It’s so sad to be reunited under these circumstances.”

Deputy Alexander put a fist on her hip. “That old man doesn’t have any grandkids. His daughter was only sixteen when she and her mama were murdered.”

Curse small towns where everybody knew everything about everybody.

“Your father was his son from his first marriage,” Charley said.

“Our father was his son from his first marriage,” Amanda repeated. She hated to take Charley’s advice, but sometimes he was right.

Deputy Alexander’s eyes widened. “Lloyd was married before? Him and Helen dated in high school!”

“Well,” Teresa said, moving closer to the window, “he didn’t exactly marry our grandmother. They just shared one night of passion when he was out of town.”

The deputy’s eyes grew even wider. “Lloyd?” She blinked a couple of times then stepped to one side and pressed a buzzer. “Go into the first room on your left. I’ll bring him in.” She shook her head. “Guess we’ve all got our secrets. Lloyd? Who’d a thought?”

Within minutes they were seated at a scuffed wooden table in a small private room with Lloyd Carstairs. He was a tall man and had probably once been well muscled. Now his flesh hung on him like an ill-fitting garment. A few strands of white hair decorated his large pink scalp. His head merged with a thick neck and, as he swung his head to and fro from Teresa to her and back again, he resembled a slow-moving bison. A bald bison.

Amanda held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t denounce them as fraudulent granddaughters.

Teresa smiled. “Hi! I’m Teresa. I’m an attorney. Your attorney.”

Carstairs clasped his manacled hands on the table and leaned forward, his expression guarded. Jake had said Carstairs was senile, but he might not be senile enough to believe these strange women were his granddaughters.

“I’m Amanda. Remember me?”

“She’s your—” Teresa started, but Amanda laid a restraining hand on hers.

“You look like somebody...” Carstairs shook his head. “I don’t know. Everybody looks like somebody I used to know, but they’re all dead. Helen, she had hair like you.” He rubbed his forehead. “No, she had golden hair, hair the color of wheat when it’s close to harvest time. Who did you say you are?”

“I’m Teresa. Your attorney. You’ve been accused of shooting a police officer.”

Carstairs snorted. “He wasn’t a police officer. He was a trespasser. He was on my property, on my porch. I’m tired of people coming around all hours of the day and night, hollering and carrying on, keeping me awake.” His voice was surprisingly strong and certain.

“Can you tell me about the people who trespass on your property?” Amanda asked. “Do you know the names of any of them?”

“Course I do. You think I’m senile or something? Them Wagner boys, they never were worth the lead it would take to shoot them. Their mother, Pearl, she was a fine woman, but their daddy run her off. I always wondered if she really left or if he killed her. He was mean. Never took care of that farm like he should have. Pearl waited on him and them boys hand and foot. She was a fine woman. You remind me of her.” He stopped and looked confused. “No, she had blond hair. Or was that Helen?”

This wasn’t working out so great.

“So the Wagner boys trespassed on your property?” Amanda asked.

“Didn’t I just say that? They come skulking around all the time, them and their friends. They’re too lazy to farm that land. Nearly lost it a few years ago. Then they started leasing it out to people who pay to come down here and hunt deer. They hunt deer out of season. They hunt my deer. It’s not right to set around and do nothing and then let people pay to kill my deer.”

“Have you ever seen them cooking the deer?” Except for what she’d seen in
Breaking Bad
, Amanda wasn’t sure of the process for cooking meth, but if Carstairs had seen somebody cooking something, surely that would be a clue.

“No,” he said, “but they messed up my kitchen. My Helen used to keep that place spotless. Now those people come in and break dishes and spill stuff all over the place.”

“Not in your kitchen. Outside. Did you see them cooking deer outside? Having a barbecue? Smoke coming from a van?”

He shook his head. “No, no barbecues. They just run around yelling, showing up at my door in the middle of the night naked, trying to fool me into letting them come into my house.”

“Naked?” Amanda repeated. “Naked people come to your house in the middle of the night?” Could they trust anything this man said? Would Parker be able to leave based on the word of a man out of touch with reality?

Carstairs frowned, looked at the floor and shook his head. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes seemed clear and lucid. “One naked man. He pulled out chunks of his hair and scratched himself till he was bleeding.”

So much for lucid. “But you didn’t let him inside your house.”

“I don’t let anybody come in. My wife and daughter were killed by a trespasser last year.”

Last year?

“I know,” Teresa said. “I’m sorry. So these people that come around, are they the ones who killed your wife and daughter?”

Carstairs sat back in his chair and regarded Teresa as if she were an idiot. “That man went to prison thirty years ago. He’s still there. I check regular.”

In and out of reality.

Amanda drew in a deep breath and prepared to ask the important question. “Have you ever shot any of these intruders before last night?”

He nodded. “Sure. I shot a lot of them.”

Success! Hand in her lap, Teresa gave her a
thumbs-up
.

“Did you shoot one of them with your Glock?” Amanda asked. Maybe he had shot Parker after all. Maybe dead men didn’t always have accurate memories of dying.

“Glock? I don’t own a Glock. I don’t hold with those silly plastic guns. Give me a nice Smith & Wesson .38 revolver or a Colt 1911. But a man don’t hunt with a hand gun. I killed a lot of deer with my Winchester Model 70. That’s what I shot them trespassers with.” He paused and looked puzzled. “The deer always bled, but those men I shot didn’t bleed until that one yesterday. He got blood all over my porch. Helen won’t like that. She keeps the place spotless. One time I tracked mud on that porch, and she got upset with me. She doesn’t usually get upset with me. She’s a good woman.”

Teresa looked at Amanda and rolled her eyes. “So you shot people, but they didn’t bleed?”

Carstairs laid his hands on the table and stared down at them as if he could find his lost sanity there. “I thought that man would just run away like the others did after I shot them. But he didn’t. He fell down on my porch and bled and then that other man grabbed me and brought me here.” He shook his head slowly. “Helen’s going to be mad at me if I’m late for dinner.”

“We might as well get out of here,” Charley said. “This guy’s crazy.”

Carstairs lifted his head. “I am not crazy. I get a little confused sometimes, that’s all.”

Amanda’s jaw dropped. She looked at Teresa who was having the same reaction.

Amanda turned back to Carstairs. “Who said you’re crazy?”

Carstairs flipped a hand toward the corner where Charley stood. “That man over there, the guy with the blond hair. Who is he?”

“It’s my ex-husband.”

“Husband,” Charley corrected.

Carstairs laughed. “Reckon there’s some question about that divorce.”

Holy cow. Carstairs could see and hear Charley.

“What about that other guy?” he asked. “The one who hasn’t said anything. What’s your name? You look kind of familiar.”

Could he see Parker too?

“Course I didn’t kill you!” Carstairs said. “If I’d killed you, you’d be wandering around my property, hollering and carrying on like the rest of them. Wouldn’t be coming to see me in jail.”

“Do you know that man?” Amanda asked tentatively. “The one who said you didn’t kill him?”

“Of course I don’t know him. He came with you. Don’t you know him?”

“He’s with me,” Teresa said. “But you said he looked familiar.”

Carstairs shook his head. “Everybody looks like somebody I used to know. Most of them are dead now, but that doesn’t stop them from coming back. I wish Helen and Grace would come back. Helen came back but she didn’t stay long.” He smiled wistfully. “I was so happy to see her in the kitchen, pulling out a cabinet drawer, getting ready to cook just like she used to do. But then she left. I hope she comes back. Maybe next time she’ll bring Grace with her. Are we through talking? I’m tired.”

“Yes,” Amanda said. “I think we’re through.”

Maybe the man wasn’t senile after all. Maybe people thought he was because he saw ghosts. Maybe the men he shot–other than Jake–didn’t bleed because they were already dead.