The Shem Bay Haunting (Jack Raven Ghost Mystery Book 3)

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The Shem Bay Haunting (Jack Raven Ghost Mystery Book 3) Page 14

by Robin G. Austin


  “Of course, please do.” She steps away from the entrance and watches me with an innocent smile.

  “I need to talk to the governess for a minute.”

  “Mrs. Corum is getting Mackenzie ready to go. Can I help you with something?”

  “She knows I’m here to talk to her. Would you please ask her to come to Dr. Pratt’s study? It’s important.”

  Tala sighs like I just asked her to do the last thing she wants to do. She hesitates then goes upstairs. I go to Pratt’s study. The room’s air is stale and heavy. I’m pacing. When there’s a light tap on the door, I answer and am relieved to see Corum.

  “I’m very busy with Mackenzie. Please make this brief.”

  She still hasn’t come into the room. I step away and she shrugs.

  “I’m concerned about Mackenzie. I’m leaving and have to tell someone before I go. That someone is you. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been very concerned about Dr. Pratt’s drinking. I can’t go into the details, but I learned something last night that leads me to believe his daughter is in physical danger.”

  Corum closes her eyes and sighs before looking past me. “I’m certainly not aware of a drinking problem, and I can’t be involved in anything regarding Dr. Pratt’s personal affairs.”

  “Your job is to take care of Mckenzie. Doesn’t that mean protecting her too?”

  “Protecting her from what? Your insinuation that Dr. Pratt would harm his own child is absurd and offensive. I need to get back to Mackenzie now. She has school to attend.”

  “Call my concerns what you want, but you might regret ignoring them. I’m not asking you to believe what I’m saying, and it doesn’t matter what you think of me. I’m leaving and not returning. I just can’t leave knowing I didn’t try to help the child. The doctor’s drinking is resulting in poor judgment. Will you please talk to Mackenzie? She needs an adult she can depend on.”

  Corum laughs to the extent her stoic nature allows. “The child has a vivid imagination. If she’s said things that led you to believe Dr. Pratt would harm her, I would dismiss them entirely.”

  “She said nothing. It was Dr. Pratt’s words and actions over these last few days that I can’t dismiss. I’m leaving this morning. Mackenzie’s an eleven year old child. She’s defenseless. Her mother, stepmother, and brother are dead. Dr. Pratt’s drinking is out of control, and he’s in denial of the problem. You can choose to do nothing, but I’m asking you to consider doing something. Even if that something is only observation and an honest conversation with the girl.”

  “You’re not Dr. Pratt’s niece are you?”

  “No. He hired me to help him with something. Due to his personal issues, I’m unable to do so.”

  “You’re a psychologist?”

  “I can’t go into our business dealings. Mackenzie is the only reason I’m talking to you about this at all.”

  Corum looks out the window behind me. Her face is long and cold. Her guard is as thick as a stone wall. I try to listen to her thoughts, but I feel pushed away. She’s not a rambling thinker. I sense she follows the rules; mostly ones she’s held onto her entire life.

  “I was concerned about her hospitalization.” Corum is still looking out the window. Her words are cold and spoken slowly but without hesitation.

  “The day I met her, Mackenzie told me she was in a psychiatric ward. Dr. Pratt told me she needed counseling.”

  Corum sighs then looks at me. “I shouldn’t be saying this. At first, he claimed she needed to rest.” The woman raises her eyebrows and smirks. “Then he said she needed to be taught a lesson. Mackenzie was making up stories about a….” She waves her hand and shakes her head.

  “About a ghost in the house. While I agree that her imagination is extreme at times, it was nowhere to send a child. It isn’t my place to say, but I am. It was wrong. Still, it didn’t seem to do any harm, so I put the matter behind us.”

  “What did she say about this ghost?”

  Corum chuckles under her breath. “Most likely something she read that peaked her curiosity. As I’m sure you’re aware, she’s extremely intelligent, and she likes to– I don’t know. Amuse herself by exhorting others. It was no more than adolescent mischief. She said something– a shadow man, I believe she called it– had watched her in her bedroom a time or two. Nothing more. I reported the matter to Dr. Pratt, as is my duty.”

  “You didn’t question why he chose to put her in a place with mentally disturbed children? Ones that could have harmed her?”

  “He’s a doctor. Of course he would assume medical intervention was the right thing to do. Personally, I didn’t agree, but I deferred to his expertise. She’s his daughter. He has the right to raise her as he sees fit.”

  “The problem is, I’m not sure he’s fit to make those decisions. Excessive use of alcohol distorts the ability to make logical decisions. Loss, trauma, long work hours, and anger on top of substance abuse are all barriers to rational thinking. I’m telling you that Mackenzie needs an adult that will not defer to Dr. Pratt’s current state of expertise.”

  Corum is staring at me when a soft knock on the door interrupts. She goes to open it. “Are you ready to go?” she asks Mackenzie.

  “I need to tell Mrs. Jankovic something first, but she isn’t answering her door.”

  Corum turns back to me and says that Dr. Pratt asked Mrs. Jankovic to come in early since she had yesterday off.

  “It can’t wait,” Mackenzie says, looking at me. “Will you please help me, Ms. Raven?”

  I follow her through the kitchen and laundry room to Jankovic’s door. I knock and call out the woman’s name. My stomach twists and my knees want to buckle. “Maybe she went to the store.”

  “No, her car is still here, and the door only locks from inside the room,” Mackenzie says.

  I knock louder and call her name again. Corum and Tala have joined us. “Get me a wire so I can pop the lock.”

  Mackenzie returns with a paperclip, and I wiggle it around until the lock clicks open. I’m holding the doorknob, and the ocean is pounding in my ears. I step inside then turn back to Corum who’s looking impatient. “Please take Mackenzie to the other room,” I tell her.

  “Why? I need to talk to her. Let me go in.” Mackenzie tries to push past me.

  Tala is standing a few feet away, tapping her fingers over her lips. Corum takes Mackenzie’s arm. “Please come with me as you’ve been asked to do,” she says.

  I push the door open. The room is dark, but I can still clearly see Jankovic’s feet in the air, limp above a chair that’s tipped over beneath her body.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  §

  I hear Tala’s scream before I realize I’m standing and staring. Mojo’s gone past me and is sniffing around the floor. I call him out and close the door.

  When I step into the entryway, Tala is whispering to Corum. Mackenzie comes running to me as Corum gets on her phone.

  “What happened? Is she dead?”

  Mackenzie’s words startle me. Tala is practically jumping out of her skin. She shaking her head not to answer then pulls the girl to the living room. Corum’s off the phone and staring at nothing. She looks up at me as if I’m a stranger.

  “The doctor’s in surgery. It will be another hour, maybe two before he’s able to call.”

  “Are the police on the way?”

  “I can’t call them until I talk to Dr. Pratt. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

  “Are you kidding? There’s a woman hanging from a noose in the next room. You can’t not call the police.”

  “I’ve been instructed by Dr.—

  I turn away from her and take out my phone.

  “Please respect Dr. Pratt’s privacy. He wouldn’t want us handling this on our own.”

  I wave my hand in the air. Before she can protest again, I’m reporting to the Shem Bay Police Department that I found the housekeeper hanging in her room. Tala is going up the stairs with a reluctant Mackenzie.

  “He
isn’t going to like this.” Corum is beside me tapping her foot; her arms are crossed over her chest.

  “Better him than the police.” I go out the front door and walk to the cliff. Mojo is hyper and acting confused. I’m a lot confused.

  Jankovic committed suicide? That’s hard to believe. She came in early at Pratt’s request, walked into her private room, and hanged herself. What are the odds of her doing that? After seeing her feet and the chair beneath her, I looked up only long enough to make sure it was her. I doubt I will ever forget her eyes.

  I can’t imagine what cleaning task was so important that Pratt had her come in early. And why was Mackenzie so determined to talk to the woman? That’s as curious as why Corum and Tala let me handle the matter. My agitated mind is putting them on trial one by one.

  When I see the blue flashing lights coming up the road, I take Mojo back to the guest house. He isn’t pleased. As I lock the door, a police car pulls into the circular driveway. Corum is standing guard on the porch. An officer yells for me to come inside.

  Another car arrives before I make it to the door. As I go in, an officer is instructing us to wait in the living room. Tala’s at the top of the stairs protesting that Mackenzie should stay in her room. The girl slips by her and runs down the stairs to stand beside me.

  “What happened? This is my house. I have the right to know.” Mackenzie has her hands on her hips, her eyes are squeezed tight.

  “Mackenzie, please. This is a very serious matter.” Corum is twisting her hand around her wrist, staring past the girl.

  “Ms. Raven, she’s dead isn’t she?”

  I nod my head just to shut her up. When I do, Corum gives me a nasty look. I almost miss seeing the smile on Mackenzie’s face.

  She goes to the living room and sits on the sofa looking satisfied. “I guess I won’t be going to school today. Pity. I should change my clothes. Mrs. Corum, please call my principal.”

  “Who found the body?” An officer is standing outside the living room, eyeing us like a bunch of suspects.

  “I did,” I say. He motions for me to follow. Tala starts crying.

  We sit in the dining room as more officers go through the house. One officer is leading Corum out of the living room. I provide identification and describe opening the door and finding Jankovic. The officer wants to know why I went to her room and notices when I hesitate. Before I can answer, a detective walks into the house and the officer leaves me to talk to him.

  I hear the man say he has a call into Pratt and another into child protective services. Corum is on her way back to the living room and overhears this. She’s borderline fierce in asserting that she is in charge of the child.

  “She’s a minor and we need to talk to her,” the detective explains. “Unless you’re a legal guardian, we have to have CPS on the premises.”

  Corum continues to demand that they not call, but no one is listening. Loud voices from outside have the officers’ attention. Corum goes to look out the window. Her face is bright red when she turns back to me.

  “Reporters,” she hisses, under her breath.

  “I didn’t call them,” I say, walking back to the living room. Tala asks if she can use the restroom then leaves before I can answer.

  “The police will need to talk to you. Don’t be afraid,” I tell Mackenzie.

  “I’m not afraid in the least. I don’t have any reason to be afraid. It’s not as if they can arrest me.”

  She’s busy trying to see the action in the entryway. Corum is still glued to the window, watching the police handle the reporters. When Mackenzie sees me watching her, she gives me a big smile.

  “What did you want to talk to Mrs. Jankovic about?” I ask.

  Before she answers, Tala is back. “The police want to talk to you again,” she says, dabbing her eyes. As I walk out of the room, I hear Mackenzie asking when they’ll talk to her.

  “Jack Raven?” The detective is a tall man with a slow step.

  “Yes.”

  “Detective Neason. A few questions if you don’t mind. Walk me through what happened here. Start with why you were in the house and end with when I asked you your name.”

  I take a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed. I should have anticipated these questions. I tell him I was letting Corum know that I was leaving. That much isn’t a lie. I tell him about Mackenzie, Jankovic’s not answering, the locked door, and how I’d seen her hanging there.

  “You go in the room?”

  “Yes. As far as the doorway.”

  “The woman live here?”

  “No. She’s Dr. Pratt’s housekeeper.”

  “You work for him too?”

  I’m nodding my head up and down until I realize I’m doing it. The guy’s trying to trip me up. He’s asked the right question to do just that. Tala and Corum will say I’m the man’s niece. It’s not a good idea to lie to the police, but it’s never a good idea to tell the unbelieving, by-the-book type what it is that I do.

  “I’m a psychic medium. I help the haunted.” Under the circumstances, that’s the best I could come up with.

  Neason pulls back and laughs. “The haunted? You’re a ghost buster?” He scratches his head, starts to write in his notebook then stops to give me a dirty look.

  “Yes,” I say, and feel my stomach twist again.

  “You don’t think a ghost hanged that woman, do you, Ms. Raven?”

  “Of course not, Detective. I assume she hanged herself.”

  “You would assume wrong. The woman’s barely five-five if she’s an inch. Unless she was some kind of trapeze artist, she didn’t string a rope through a hook on an eight foot ceiling using a chair. Not without some help anyway.”

  The reporters are getting noisier outside and Neason is distracted. He goes to stand up then stops. Another officer is already on his way to the door. He turns back to me and smiles.

  “You know anyone who would have wanted to help the woman hang herself?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “How about any psychic visions of someone helping her? You get any of those things? Or maybe her ghost told you what happened. Did some spook mention who wanted her dead?”

  Chapter Thirty

  §

  My dear and very proper English mother would never have approved of what I said to the idiot detective when he asked about Jankovic’s ghost; Maybelle would have encouraged my words, but I didn’t need encouragement.

  After the coroner determined that Jankovic had been dead at least two hours, Tala and Corum were released as neither had been on the premises that long. Mackenzie was allowed to stay with Corum after she and Pratt had a private conversation and Pratt’s attorney got involved. The attorney also arranged for Pratt’s statement at a later date.

  Having neither an airtight alibi nor an attorney, the police went through my things and every inch of the guest house, according to the detective. I wouldn’t know because I was taken to the station for an interrogation that included a sample of my DNA. I’m now officially in the FBI’s databank, and I’m not happy about that.

  I was given four cups of vending machine coffee and an ice cold hamburger and fries for lunch. Now after hours of waiting and answering the same questions over and over, I’m allowed to leave the station.

  I’d like nothing better than to start driving home– even though Detective Neason told me to plan on staying in the area a few more days. I’m not looking forward to returning to Pratt’s place, but I won’t be staying long. I call and book a hotel room for one night while an officer drives me back to the house.

  Mojo is eager to get out of the guest house and thrilled when he sees me loading the jeep. On my second load out, I see Pratt coming my way.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I think that’s best,” I say.

  Somehow I didn’t expect those to be the first words out of the man’s mouth. I suspect Jankovic’s death is the top story on this small town’s news stations. I also fully suspect that Corum blamed m
e for their learning of the story.

  “Ms. Raven, you can’t leave.”

  I assume he’s referring to the detective’s hardnosed request that I not leave town even though I’m sure he has no right to keep me here. I tell Pratt I’m staying at a hotel.

  “Please, I still need your help. Now more than ever. A few more days is all I ask. I’ve made arrangements for Mackenzie to stay with my sister. We’re leaving as soon as she’s done packing her things. You can have the house to yourself. I’ll cooperate fully in any way you ask. I’ll even go to a hotel.”

  Pratt is nervous and talking too fast. “Can we go inside?” He’s nodding at the door of the guest house that I’m blocking. “It’s cold out here. There’s been a storm warning issued for tonight.”

  “It’s even colder inside. The electricity is still out. I thought you took care of that.”

  “I thought I did. I’ll call an electrician before I leave. You can stay in the main house until then. It’ll be late when I get home tonight. I’m sure one night together won’t be a problem.” He smiles and I cringe.

  Pratt still hasn’t mentioned Jankovic, and doesn’t seem as concerned as most people would be after a death in their home just hours before. Corum’s and Tala’s cars are gone so I assume Mackenzie is in the house alone.

  “I took the liberty of making another payment to your account.” He says this with an odd grin that’s more than a little creepy. “I want you to stay. Please, stay.”

  “Did you see Mrs. Jankovic this morning?”

  His brow wrinkles and his eyes dart to the cliff where the wolfdog is watching him. “I left for my clinic just after she arrived. I understand you found her. I’m deeply sorry for that. I’m sure it was traumatizing.”

  “Shocking, actually,” I say.

  He rubs the back of his neck. “Mrs. Jankovic had her share of problems. She was alone, no family members in this country. I was trying to help the woman, but she was firmly rooted in her archaic superstitions. I know you’re aware of that. When my second wife became ill, she withdrew. Afterwards, the woman became quite paranoid.”

 

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