House at Road's End

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House at Road's End Page 8

by Peggy Staggs


  “I noticed things were in mid-repair.” The sidewalks, obviously, didn’t make the repair list.

  “The S&L and Max Jessen got it the worst when things went under.” He glanced over at a group of men. “The resort ran up huge bills before it vanished. Their phone’s been disconnected. Their address belongs to an abandoned warehouse.”

  “Did you contact the state authorities?” I suppressed a yawn.

  “We did. And the FBI.” The mayor shook his head. “They say they’re working on it. Max, in there, sold them two hundred acres on speculation for a chunk of the final development. Nate Baker, at the S&L, loaned out money no one can pay back. Dave Purdy sold the owner beef. The check was worthless. His cows are gone and he has nothing. They both lost a lot.” He shook his head.

  My brain was too tired to properly process the information he was giving me. “Mayor, we’ll do what we can, but right now I’m exhausted. I’ve got to get some sleep.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry. If you need anything, give me a call.” He smiled and left.

  I stifled a yawn. “Good night,” I called as I made my way down the walk toward the street. I didn’t make it far before I encountered a crater in the sidewalk. I was about to go down when two strong hands caught me.

  Chapter Nine

  I didn’t even have to look. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  “Jack. Remember?”

  I did. “I’m...” I had other things to deal with right now. Getting home without breaking a limb was at the top of my list. “I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. All I can think about is getting some sleep.”

  He released me. “Let me take you home before you break one of those shoes.” He gave me a two-finger Boy Scout salute. “As a public service.”

  “If it’s a public service, how can I refuse?”

  “I saw you talking to the Mayor. He isn’t a bad guy, just out of his league with all that’s happened.”

  “I can tell he cares about the town.”

  “What’re your plans for the B&B?”

  The cool evening was both invigorating and hypothermic. “What, no beating around the bush? Or small talk? Just, what are your plans for the rest of your life?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “There’s nothing back East for me. No job, no future, only a bad memory. My research project was sabotaged by my fiancé, believe it or not.”

  “I know.”

  Of course he did. “Then, my dad vanishes into thin air. I get out here, hoping to find him and last night happens. Now, I’ve got to find his murderers.” That was a lot more than I’d planned on sharing. I suppressed another yawn. I’d gone this far I might as well establish my place in this arrangement. “I’d like your help. I will do it on my own if I have to.”

  “And when were you planning on being deputized?”

  I didn’t have a snappy comeback so I decided to go with cranky. “Oh, I see how you think it’s going to be. Well this is how it is going to go. I’m going to find out who did this.” I planted my finger in the middle of his chest. “And, if you try to stop me—” I paused. I was about to irritate the one person in town who could either help me or make my quest impossible.

  Instead of firing back, he smiled down at me. “Spunky. I like spunky.”

  If I wasn’t so spent I’d have shown him spunky. “I need some sleep. Five nights of lumpy motel beds has taken its toll.”

  “I hope you aren’t including last night in that.” He smiled. “We’ll talk about your plan tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t impress me as the kind of person who does anything without a strategy. Ralph didn’t. His daughter wouldn’t do any less.”

  “You’re right.” I took a step back. Bad idea. My heel slipped into a mammoth crack and I pitched forward right into his arms. My face met a wall of muscle—his chest. This was not working out the way I’d planned. At all. I was supposed to be convincing him to let me work with him not pouring my guts out and falling right into his arms. I do hate when my plans crumble.

  “You’ve got to get better shoes.” He smiled and set me back on my feet. “I can’t always be here to catch you.”

  Boots in the morning. “The sidewalks here are more like side stumbles. Don’t you guys ever repair them?”

  “Let’s get you to level ground.”

  Ahead, the sidewalk ended. Good, I knew from earlier the dirt was smoother than the concrete. “Maybe the town should go to dirt walkways.” I wandered off topic “Why Road’s End?” I pointed to the sign where the asphalt of Main Street transitioned to the gravel road of the B&B. “I’d have picked something a little less final than end of the road.”

  He glanced at the sign. “Funny thing. On the old city map, it’s Schoolhouse Road. In the 60’s, when the school closed, someone changed to House at Road’s End. I think it had to do with the deaths of the man who owned the school and his family. Or it’s because it’s where the road ends.” He smiled. “Jane did tell you the B&B is haunted, didn’t she?”

  “Jack, really, ghosts?”

  “What she’s been seeing aren’t ghosts. My guess is someone’s been systematically searching the B&B. Probably the men who showed up last night. That’s for tomorrow.”

  We rounded the bend. A light shown through a top floor window.

  “You expecting someone to be in your attic?”

  “Jane said she’d find the key to it,” I said. “She must have found it.”

  “Aunt Jane is a brave woman until it comes to exploring a big empty building she believes is haunted.”

  “Who else could it be?” I kept walking.

  “Maybe your intruders from last night have returned.” He pulled his gun.

  “It has to be Jane.” I hoped.

  “Stay here.” The tone in his voice stopped me. “Do not come in, whatever you hear. Do not come in.”

  I pointed toward the building. “It isn’t Jane.” She came running toward us with a cat under each arm.

  When she saw us she called, “Good, Jack. You’re here. The ghost is back.” Her voice raised as she and her companions reached us. “I heard it walking around. We’ve got to shoo it away. I should call my Nana. She—”

  She handed him the little cat. He stood there, gun in one hand, cat in the other he said, “Aunt Jane. Calm down.” He presented me with the cat and took a step before he said, “Stay here with the Doc.”

  “You be careful, Jack Trace. He’s up there.” To me she said, “It’s the ghost.” Jane hugged the big cat tighter.

  “You two...four—” He indicated the squirming cats.

  “What if he runs out, sees us standing here unarmed, and shoots us?” Jane pointed out.

  “A. Ghosts don’t shoot people,” I said. “B. We could stand here and discuss it until he goes away.”

  “Or C. I can actually do something about it.” Jack finished my set of three.

  “I choose B,” Jane said. “I don’t trust ghosts.”

  “Doc—Jane—stay here.” He left no room for debate—he was very good at that. He disappeared into the night.

  “You are so not leaving me in the dark in a strange town.” I whispered after him.

  The little cat’s eyes were wide with fear.

  “I don’t like this,” Jane said. “Those ghost just started coming around again.”

  “The light is out.” I pointed to the now dark window above.

  Jane shook her head. “This whole part of town is haunted.”

  I’ve heard of haunted just about everything. My roommate in college said her grandmother’s tea-pot was haunted. But a section of a town, that was new. I decided to ask, “What could haunt a whole area?”

  “There’re all manner of stories of people dying all around here. The old college on the other side of the hill.” She nodded into the darkness. “There were girls killing themselves all the time. Then there’s the old schoolmaster and his family. They’re buried out there by the edge of the property. He go
t all depressed because his school went broke. Got up one morning and killed the whole family. Odd man.”

  I diverted my attention from the tree-shrouded road behind us to the somber brick building before us. Even the moon was hiding behind tendrils of clouds.

  We waited in a world of ever-moving shadows and sudden noises. The rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig, the screech of an owl. This is the time when instinct overwhelms logic. I hugged the little cat.

  “I’m not standing here like a fool hen on a stump,” Jane said flatly.

  Standing here wasn’t working for me either. I had no idea what a fool hen was, but it didn’t sound like the thing to be. “Let’s find somewhere safe.”

  We picked our way through the darkness toward the B&B and the front door. We stopped at the bottom of the steps. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure this was our best course of action, but a solid brick building at least gave the illusion of safety. And prowlers don’t typically go through the front door, yet they had last night. At least I didn’t think they did. And as for the ghosts...they could go anywhere.

  I was pretty sure whatever was inside would be coming out once the Sheriff confronted it. Remembering Sun Tzu’s rule to give the enemy a golden bridge on which to retreat. I didn’t want to be standing in whoever’s path to freedom. “Over here.” I pulled Jane to one side of the steps as the sound of running reached us.

  “It’s the ghost.” Jane looked around for somewhere to hide.

  I figured you wouldn’t hear a ghost running. “Jack,” I whispered in vain.

  I couldn’t tell if the steps were coming toward us or moving away.

  “Sheriff Trace?” No answer. I made an executive decision. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911.

  “Spirit Springs, what’s your emergency.”

  “This is Ensley Markus. There’s a prowler in the House at Road’s End.”

  The sound of the footsteps changed. This time, there was no doubt they were coming in our direction. Juggling the cat and my phone, I stepped closer to Jane.

  Bad move. The runner hit right between us.

  In the collision, my phone flew out of my hand, the little cat catapulted into the darkness, and I hit the steps. Jane fell in the opposite direction. The impact didn’t appear to even slow the runner.

  Jane fared better than me. She’d landed in the dead grass. We were both cat-less.

  I searched for my phone. Fortunately, it landed face-up. I grabbed it.

  “Hello are you still there?”

  “Yes, we’re here. You’ve got to get someone now.”

  “Okay, Can you get somewhere safe?”

  “Send the Deputy.”

  “Calm down, ma’am, help is on the way.” I could almost hear the you-should-be-used-to-this in her voice.

  When someone tells me to calm down, a little switch deep in the primitive part of my brain flips. I think of it as the irrational switch. Switch flipped. “Do not tell me to calm down. We’re in danger here.” Technically, the bad guy was gone. “I don’t want anyone else killed out here.”

  “Ma’am, the deputy is on the way. Stay on the line with me until he gets there.”

  Fat chance. I pushed the end button. Three times. I told Jane to wait here. I went after Jack. On the road I found him walking back toward the B&B.

  “Doc, you don’t follow directions very well. And where’s Aunt Jane?”

  “Right here.” She held both cats.

  “What were you going to do, throw the cats at him, Aunt Jane?” Jack smiled at her defiant manner.

  “Jack Trace, don’t you give me that look.” She tried to wag a finger at him, but it proved impossible with her arms full of cats.

  Still annoyed at the emergency operator, I decided to take it out on Jack. Hey, he was closer. “Why didn’t you catch him?”

  “I would have, but he had a truck. I can’t run that fast.” He shown his phone light on my arm. “You’re bleeding.”

  I knew I’d hit hard. “My sweater is ruined.”

  “Didn’t do much for your elbow either,” Jane said.

  “It’s not bad.” I brushed the fabric back into place. “How could he get in a truck when he ran over Jane and me?”

  “He knocked you down? Did you see his face?”

  “It’s dark out here,” Jane said. “Didn’t you see him when you chased him out of the house?”

  “Only person I chased went down the road. I’ll show you what I did find.”

  Inside, on the second floor the padlock lay on the hardwood and the attic door stood open. Beyond it yawned an inky blackness. The void promised to swallow anyone who entered. “What’s up there?” I peeked through the door into the darkness.

  “The ghost,” Jane stated as if it were published in a scientific journal. And for good measure, she added, “It’s a fact.”

  In my experience, ghost and fact have little to do with each other. “A better question is who turned out the light?”

  “The ghost,” Jane said.

  “I don’t think so.” Jack flipped the light switch. Above us, a naked bulb spread insufficient light over dust-covered shapes. “This way,” he said as he climbed the protesting stairs.

  I followed.

  “What do you see?” Jane called from below.

  “A body.”

  Chapter Ten

  There, on the floor, lay a figure dressed in an overcoat. A box had fallen on his head and shoulders. “That can’t be good.” I moved to check the body for signs of life.

  I heard a thud. Then another.

  I turned to find an open-mouthed, cat-less Jane.

  “Is he dead?” Her eyes were wide with fear and surprise.

  A strobe of red and blue lights burst through the windows. “Kenny’s here.” Jane went downstairs.

  “You called Kenny?”

  “I called 911, yes.”

  He shook his head. “I’m capable. I don’t need him out here.”

  No doubt. My fears lay more with my abilities. I sure hadn’t done very well last night. I sat back on my heels and looked up at him. “Your dead body was never alive.” I pushed the box aside exposing a store dummy. My words ran out in an uncontrolled rush. “This could have been so much worse.” I stood and faced him. “What if, instead of running away, the bad guy had waited in here? With a real gun and shot you? I’ve had enough people shot in my life. I don’t want—”

  I stopped.

  What was I going to say? ‘You’re not getting shot on my watch.’ He wasn’t on my watch. Technically, he was the one who was supposed to be doing the watching. And he, technically, was in my life, but I, technically, wasn’t going to acknowledge it. I shook the turbulence from my head.

  “There were two of them.” He lowered his gaze to me. “Next time, stay put.”

  “Right. So you’re going to run in here alone?” I wasn’t sure where I was going with this so I kicked the dummy. “And stop scaring Jane. If she leaves me, who’d bake the bread and feed the cats and birds? And what will I do?”

  “Jane is a lot tougher than you think.” He took me by the shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re going to get through this.”

  Deputy Kenny appeared in the doorway below, gun drawn. “What’s going on, Sheriff? I couldn’t figure out anything from what Aunt Jane was saying.”

  “Jane heard something.” Jack pointed to the man on the floor. “Did you see a truck leaving the area?”

  The deputy shook his head. “You know Jane is always hearing things.”

  Jane followed the deputy up the steps. “Kenneth Renshaw,” she scolded, “don’t you bad-mouth me. I know your mama. And if I was making it up, who ran into us and knocked us down? Nearly killed those cats.”

  “Aunt Jane, you know it’s true.” Kenny tried to defend himself.

  She peered around Kenny to the man on the floor. “Well.” She pointed. “That’s Igor.”

  “Igor?” I asked.

  “Our Halloween dummy. We hang him up on the front porch. There�
�s a hidden speaker in his chest. It scares the be-jesus out of people when they came trick-or-treatin’ last year.” She focused on Jack. “And Jack Trace, I know footsteps when I hear them.”

  “Someone was in here.” I pointed down toward the cut padlock. “A “someone” with bolt cutters.”

  Jack pulled a pen from his pocket and moved aside the raincoat covering the dummy. “And we have bolt cutters.”

  “I want to know how a bad guy got in here and why,” I toed the form on the floor. This time without anger.

  “Where did you hear the footsteps?” Jack asked.

  “This is a waste of time,” Kenny complained.

  “Check outside,” Jack ordered. “See if there’re any signs of a break-in.”

  Kenny shrugged and left.

  “Now, Aunt Jane, think back. What did you hear?” Jack’s voice was deep and soothing.

  He has a nice voice. It was the wine. I’m not interested. I’d just broken up with a POS. A man who, incidentally, had more than a little to do with the one standing in front of me. That bothered me.

  Jane had turned her attention to the hall below. With a sigh, she lowered her head slightly and said, “It was like this. I was scared. All I could think to do was grab those silly cats and get out the door.” Her cheeks turned light pink. “I wasn’t very brave.”

  Jack remained silent.

  I figured this part fell to me. “You were very clear-headed. The brave person is the one who’s frightened and still does the right thing. You thought to take the cats with you. That’s brave.”

  Jack leaned close, so close I could feel his warm breath on my ear as he whispered, “Thanks.”

  Jane straightened. “Someone has to look after the silly things. I don’t know where they came from. They just showed up one day. It’s my duty to take care of them.”

  Jack gave Jane a knowing smile. “Aunt Jane, close your eyes.” He waited as she did. “Take a breath. Good, now think back to the sound of the footsteps.”

  A second later, she reopened them. “No use. I can’t remember.”

 

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