Who Killed the Ghost in the Library: A Ghost writer Mystery (14 page)

Chapter 26

Once we got back to my house, it took me thirty minutes to tell Randy everything that went on that evening. Well, everything except for that kiss in front of the Ashton house. I decided to keep that to myself. I wasn’t even sure what it meant at this point, or why he even did it. All I really kept thinking was “Whoa!”

“Maybe it’s you,” Randy said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, in the last three or four days, you’ve talked or spent time with all three of them. And now they’re all dead. Maybe you have some bad death juju or something going on.”

“I’ve been around you the last four days, and you’re still alive.”

“Yeah, but I might be pressing my luck here. I could be next.”

“The next one for a rubber room maybe,” I mumbled. “Do you think Jo would be willing to do an online search for me? She knows how to navigate that better than I do, from what you and Mike have told me. I’d like to get a jump on what Mike needs.”

“You mean beat him to the punch.”

“Sort of,” I admitted. “You know he’s not going to willingly share information with us, and I know he plans on asking her to do it anyway, so…”

“So why not have her start now and avoid the rush?” he said.  I nodded. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jo’s number. They talked for a couple of minutes before he hung up. “Mike already called her and asked her to get started, but she said she would share whatever she found with us.”

“As long as she doesn’t tell him she’s doing that, we should be fine,” I said.

“She won’t.”

“Mike said you took all those papers we printed off.”

“Yeah, I’ve got them spread out all over my apartment. I’ve almost finished sorting through it all.”

“Great,” I said, pacing the floor. “I need to get everything organized. We’ve got too much information floating around. We’re going to sort things out like I do when I’m writing a book. Go home and finish up with those papers. Bring them back tomorrow. Keep in touch with Jo, and as soon as she gets her work done, get it and her back here.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to Grandma Alma and Walt again. There are a few things that are bothering me about the night that Stanley was killed. I’m hoping they can fill in some of the blanks. I also have to go to the police station in the morning and meet with the sketch artist. Mike wants to get a picture out of the woman we saw tonight.”

“Maybe he will let you see the surveillance tapes.”

“Not sure I can talk him into that, but it’s worth a shot.”

We agreed to meet at the bookstore around noon tomorrow. Randy made me promise to lock the door after he left, and stood on the porch until I did it. I collapsed on the couch, leaned back and closed my eyes. It had been a wild and crazy day, and I felt like I was still trying to process everything. Maybe I was overanalyzing everything and jumping to conclusions. Maybe Mike was right; I should just butt out because this was police business, and definitely not my problem. But Randy’s comment about Cliff, Aggie and Jake Yarborough dying after talking to me bothered me to no end. I knew it shouldn’t. It was just a coincidence that they all died after our conversations, right? Maybe I really did have some bad juju following me around. Or maybe I just needed a good night’s sleep, because I was starting to get a bit slap happy.

My cell phone rang at that moment. Groaning, I sat up and dug it out of my bag. “Hello?”

“I just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” Mike said.

“Randy just left. He stood on the porch and waited for me to lock up before he left.”

“Good for him.”

“How are things going there?”

“Waiting on the medical examiner, believe it or not.”

“Did you get a look at the tapes yet?”

“For a few minutes, and just the one around the nurses’ station. Our redhead shows up just before we left Jake’s room. Once we get on the elevator, she grabs a chart and heads down the hall, I’m guessing toward his room. Three minutes later, she comes back, puts the chart back, waits another three minutes, then makes a phone call. Another nurse runs from the other end of the hall, past the nurses’ station, and down the hall toward the fallen officer. Two minutes after that, we’re back on the floor and she’s sending us down the hall. She watches us go down the hall, then takes off.”

“Any chance we can get a still shot of her face to try and make an ID?”

“We?”

“Sorry, a slip of the tongue. Any chance
you
can get a still shot of her face to make an ID?”

“She made sure she didn’t look straight up at the camera. She was very careful. I’m hoping there is a better shot of her on one of the other tapes. On the bright side, she did touch his chart, so I’m hoping we can get a fingerprint or two to run through the database. You’re still planning to meet with the sketch artist in the morning, right?”

“It’s at the top of my to-do list,” I assured him. “Randy is almost done sorting through all those papers from my house, so we are going to meet after I’m done to go through them and write down what we know. I’ve learned too much in the last few days that I can’t keep it straight.”

“Are you still planning to share the information with me?”

“Works both ways, bub.”

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” he sighed.

“No, I’m not. Randy pointed out something rather disturbing. I’ve had conversations with Cliff, Aggie and Jake, and all three have turned up dead shortly afterwards. I’d say that puts me in the middle, coincidence or not. I feel a bit responsible.”

“But you’re not. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Really, Mike? Cliff Scott came to me with information, and not three minutes after that, he’s dead. Aggie asked me to find out who killed Stanley, and three days later, she’s dead. We talked to Jake tonight, and not ten minutes later, he’s dead. These people have told me something that is worth killing for.”

“Are you worried you could be next?”

“I wasn’t until you said that, thanks a lot.”

“If what you say is true, then it’s all the more reason you need to butt out and let me handle this. It’s what I get paid for.” I didn’t say anything. He sighed again. “Just get me what you have. The medical examiner is here. I’ve got to go.” He hung up before I could say anything else.

I dropped the phone on the coffee table and sat back on the couch. What had I been told that was worth killing three people for? All this led back to one person: Stanley Ashton III.

Chapter 27

The next morning, I overslept. I might have hit the snooze button one too many times (so I hit it five times, sue me!), and when I finally woke up, it was almost nine a.m. I rushed through my shower, got dressed, grabbed a Dr Pepper from the fridge, and shoved everything I needed into my messenger bag. Unfortunately, my car wasn’t as ready to go as I was; it refused to start. And in case you’re wondering, pounding on the steering wheel will not make it start, either. It just hurts your hand.

I called Artie Shatton first, who promised to come over in half an hour. As I called Randy, I decided to go back inside, and that’s when I found the note on the front door.
“Stop interfering or next time they’ll find your body in a well.”
Well, that certainly didn’t give me any warm and fuzzy feelings.

“What’s up?” Randy said when he answered.

“I’m going to be late. The car won’t start. I’m waiting for Artie to get here.”

“You want me to bring some lunch to your place?”

“That might be a good idea. I’ve gotta go.” I hung up and called Mike.

“I thought you were coming in first thing.”

“I’ve got a bit of a problem. My car won’t start.”

“
So get a ride from Randy.”

“I’ve already called Artie. I found a note on the front door.”

“What kind of note?”

“The kind that threatens bodily harm.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.

Mike got there in seven minutes. Good thing he was the chief of police, or he’d get a ticket for speeding through town like that. “Where’s the note?”

“Still on the door. I didn’t touch it. I’ve been standing here the whole time staring at it.”

He grabbed some latex gloves from his kit, walked up to the door and took down the note. “Did you hear anyone out here last night?”

I shook my head. “I went to bed after we finished talking.”

Turning around, he looked at my car. “And the beast isn’t running this morning?”

“Nope.”

He went back to the trunk of his car, put the note in an evidence bag and sealed it shut. “Why don’t you go stand on the porch?” he said as he opened the driver’s side door.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Fine,” I said, stomping up the steps. “Better?”

“Much,” he said. Popping the hood, he walked around the open car door and slowly raised the lid. “Someone took your distributor cap.”

“What?” I said. I started to walk down the steps, but he held up a hand and stopped me. “Anything else missing?”

“Not sure.” He started checking the undercarriage and the wheel wells.

“What are you looking for?”

“C4.”

“Excuse me?”

“Remember I told you the other day that they found C4 in the trunk of that Cadillac Jake Yarborough was driving? I just want to make sure whoever left that note didn’t put some on your car.” At a loss for words, I just stood there
and watched. After a few minutes, he got up and brushed the dust off his pants. “I don’t see anything, but I’ll get my guys to go over it.” He pulled out his phone and made a call. “I tried to get a hold of Artie before he left so he could bring a flatbed for your car, but he’s already gone. One of his men is going to drive one out. Are you alright?”

“You’ve been asking me that a lot lately. I’m a lot stronger than I look, you know.”

“Good to know. However, you do look a bit pale.”

“Wouldn’t you if someone mentioned C4 being placed in a car you were about to drive?”

“Good point.”

Artie parked in front of the house and came over to us. “Morning,
Ms. Shaw, Chief Penhall. What’s the problem?”

“Someone took the distributor cap off her car,” Mike replied. “
I’m not sure if there’s anything else wrong with it. We need to handle it carefully, though, until my guys can go over it thoroughly.”

Artie started looking over the engine. “Why? Something going on I need to be aware of?”

“Someone is making threats against Cam. I want to make sure that the distributor cap is the only thing they messed with, that they didn’t put something in the engine or the car that would be considered dangerous.”

“Like what?” Artie asked. “A bomb?”

Mike glanced at me. “It’s possible.”

“I see,” he said, stepping away from the car. “So what are you going to do?”

“One of your men is bringing a flatbed out here. If it’s alright with you, I’ll have him take it to our garage at the police station, and have my men go over it.”

“It’s alright with me. Do you want some help?
I’ve taken care of this car a long time. I know it inside and out.”

“I’ll have my men check it out first, then you can help us with the engine. I don’t want to do anything to damage it.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Shaw, I’ll get it running again,” Artie said to me.

I smiled at him. “I know you will, Artie. I’m not worried.”

The flatbed wrecker showed up ten minutes later, and Artie helped his driver load it up. He waved as they drove away.

“What are you going to do now?” Mike said. “I still need you to meet with the sketch artist. You could ride with me back to the station.
”

“Sure, that would be fine.” I grabbed my bag and locked up.

As we drove toward downtown, Mike said, “Have you thought about getting a security alarm for your house?”

“No, why?”

“It might be something to consider.”

“Unlike the Ashtons, I don’t have spare money burning a hole in my pocket.
”

“I’ve got some connections. I’ll be glad to do some checking, see if I can get you a discount.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I know I don’t. I want to.”

“What’s going on?”

Mike glanced at me for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“Why this sudden interest in my well-being? And what was with that kiss last night?”

“It got you to be quiet for a little while, didn’t it?” he chuckled.

“So you were just trying to shut me up? Why didn’t you just ask me to stop arguing with you?”

“When you are passionate about something, you don’t give up. You were the same way when we were in high school. I admire that about you, but it’s also very infuriating,” he said as we pulled into the police station.

“So it meant nothing to you then?” I said as he parked the car.

“Not a thing at all,” he replied, turning off the car.

I got out of the car, slamming the door. “I’ll be sure to keep quiet around you from now on, Chief Penhall. Heaven forbid I infuriate you and force you to do something you find repulsive.” I slung my bag on my shoulder and stormed inside, leaving him standing by the car with a shocked expression on his face.

I texted Randy as I waited for the sketch artist, asking him to pick me up in thirty minutes. I pointedly ignored Mike as he came in. I felt foolish worrying over the implications of last night, when it was just a means to an end for him.

The sketch artist finally arrived, and we were led to an interview room to work. It took an hour to finish the sketch. I was a bit stiff from sitting there so long, and I stretched a little bit before leaving the room.

Mike was
standing in the hallway when I came out. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” I replied, walking past him.

“She gave me a very good description of the woman,” Rachel Cherry, the sketch artist, told him. “You should get some calls when you release the picture.”

“Thanks,
Rachel,” Mike replied, shaking his hand. “I appreciate you coming in on such short notice.”

“Not a problem, Chief.
Miss Shaw, a pleasure working with you.”

“Thank you, Ms
. Cherry.” I continued down the hall.

“Let me walk you out,” Mike said, catching up to me.

“That’s not necessary, Chief Penhall. I know the way out.”

“Cam, stop. We need to talk…”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You made your feelings quite clear. Now, if you will excuse me, Randy has been waiting for over half an hour in the parking lot.” I stormed out the front door. I’m sure he watched me go, but I wasn’t about to turn around and look. I got in Randy’s car. “Get me out of here.”

“What…”

I held up my hand. “Don’t ask any questions. Just drive.”

Thankfully, he did what I asked while I sat in the passenger seat and stewed. Randy looked over at me a couple of times, and I could tell he was dying to ask what was going on. Finally, he said, “If you tell me who made you mad, I’ll call my friend in Florida. One call from me, and I’ll make the body disappear in a swamp full of gators. They won’t even find the bones.”

“That’s very sweet,” I laughed. “But let’s hold off for now.”

“How did things go with the sketch artist?”

“Fine. She believes they should be able to get some calls about it.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, patting my leg. “You’ve always had an eye for details.” He pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“You can if you want to. I think Walt knows more than he’s telling me, and after three bodies, we need to know what he knows.”

We went down to Grandma Alma’s room, but she wasn’t in there, so we decided to try the TV room. Sure enough, there she was, sitting with Walt and Pete.
It looked like they were playing poker again. “Hi, Grandma,” I said, bending over and kissing her cheek. Today, she was wearing a white blouse with tiny pink roses, pink pants and pink Keds. Her cane was attached to one arm of her wheelchair. “Have you been to therapy this morning?” I asked her, pointing to the cane.

“Yeah, it was a good day today,” she replied. “I managed to get up and down the hall three times without much help. Better than sitting in this thing all the time.”

“Good for you!” Randy said. “You’ll be chasing Walt down the hall in no time.”

“I’m just trying to make sure I can dance. There’s a band coming in to play some Big Band music. Walt and Pete have both promised to dance with me.”

“Only if she promises not to wipe us out at poker this week,” Pete said. “Or did she call you to take care of that for her?”

“Your winnings are safe today,” I assured him. “Actually, I’m here to talk to Walt. Do you have a few minutes to spare?”

“For a cute looking gal like you, always,” Walt replied.

“Behave yourself,” Grandma Alma said, swatting his arm. “That’s my granddaughter you’re flirting with.”

Pete tossed his cards on the table. “I’ll leave you folks to talk,” he said as he stood up. “Bessie Mae’s daughter brought her some banana nut bread. I’m going to see if I can sweet talk her into giving me some.”

I sat down in his seat after he left, and Randy took the chair next to Walt. “Are you alright, Cam?” Grandma Alma asked. “You look a bit upset. How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine, Grandma.”

“Then what’s got you so mad?”

“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” I replied. “Aggie Foley was found at the bottom of a well on the Ashton estate. There were also some old bones in there with her.”

“How old?” Walt said.

“I’m not sure,” I told him. “Your grandson said they didn’t find any identification with the bones. I’m sure they will do some testing on them today.”

“Did she fall down the well by accident?” Grandma Alma said.

I shook my head. “They found blood in the kitchen hours before they found her body. I don’t think there’s any way she fell in on her own. She had help. Would you two like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?”

They both wanted coffee, so I went over the coffee urn, poured two cups, grabbed two bottles of water, and took them back to the table. “That’s not all you have to tell us,
is it, girl?” Walt said as I sat down.

I took a drink of water. “No, sir. The police identified the man who hit Cliff Scott and blew up his house. His name is Jake Yarborough. He’s a mercenary who was hired by someone to get an old police file from Cliff. When he didn’t find it in the house, he blew it up to make sure no one else got their hands on it.”

“Why would anyone want a file on a closed case?” Walt said.

“Your grandson and I talked to Mr. Yarborough last night. They wanted Stanley
Ashtons file.”

“Did he say why?”

“No, he was just hired to do a job. He didn’t ask any questions.” I took a deep breath. “We were downstairs in the cafeteria for ten minutes after we talked to Mr. Yarborough when we got a call that there was a shooting on the second floor. The police officer guarding Mr. Yarborough’s room was shot twice. Whoever did it shot the suspect in the forehead. They used a pillow as a silencer.”

“Good Lord,” Grandma Alma said. “You could have been killed.”

“They waited until we were gone before they made their move. Whoever the shooter was had an accomplice who was dressed as a nurse. They didn’t catch her, but I met with a sketch artist this morning and gave them a good description of her.”