by K. J. Emrick
Kyle sprang up from the bed with otherworldly speed, hanging in midair with his arm raised and one finger pointing triumphantly. “A-ha! There it is! The clue that blows this whole thing open. I found it for you, and you’re welcome!”
Miranda gaped at him. “What do you mean, you found it?”
“You were going to throw that book at my head,” Kyle explained as if it was obvious. “Without me, you would’ve just walked right out of here without seeing it. So. You’re welcome.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Sure, Kyle. You’re a hero.”
Jack ignored their exchange, of which he could only hear one side anyway. “This is weird,” he finally commented.
“Why?” Miranda asked him. “It’s just a shoelace being used as a bookmark. I prefer playing cards or something like that, but hey at least the guy was reading.”
“That’s just it,” Jack said. “It’s not a shoelace. It’s just a strip of leather, but the ends are braided, almost like they’re meant to be handholds.”
Keeping their discovery in one hand, he took the book back from her and flipped through it. It was some sci-fi novel that Miranda had never heard of: Colony 41. It had interesting cover art, but you couldn’t always judge a book by… well, the cover. She made a note to check it out later this week. She liked to keep herself up on the latest trends in literature but she had a feeling that the really interesting part of this book, as far as they were concerned, was that piece of leather.
“This must be what Skye was looking for,” she said out loud. “But why? If it isn’t a shoelace, what is it, and why would it be so important?”
“It’s a plant, is what it is,” he told her confidently.
“Uh, Miranda?” Kyle asked immediately. “What’s he talking about? A plant? This isn’t a gardenia, or a rose, or even a blooming onion. It’s not a plant. It’s a piece of leather. Technically that’s an animal. Like, from a cow or something.”
“What’s he saying?” Jack asked, seeing Miranda looking off in Kyle’s direction.
“He’s telling you it’s not a flower,” Miranda paraphrased.
Jack’s lips pressed together in confusion. “Flower? Oh. No, not that kind of plant. I mean, it was planted here. Somebody planted it for us to find. They wanted us to think it belonged to Caleb when it doesn’t.”
“Oh,” Kyle said, floating closer. “That kind of plant.”
Miranda stared at the thing they had found. “How can you know that just by looking at it?”
“I can’t, not by looking at this.” He took the cord and put it away in his jeans pocket, the same one that had the key. “I know it was planted here by looking at this book. Look. See how there’s several pages dogeared?”
He showed Miranda, and she saw he was right. Page twenty, page thirty-three, thirty-eight, fifty-seven, and so on. The upper corner of each had been bent down in a triangle and then unfolded again at some point to leave the tell-tale crease of a dogear.
She knew that some people did this when reading books, especially paperbacks, to mark their progress. She would never do that herself because she thought it was disrespectful to damage a book like that. Of course, her view on books was probably biased, because she was an author. She liked to leave books in the same exact condition that they were in when she found them. Several books that she had read two or three times still looked like they were fresh off a bookstore shelf.
“Now,” Jack said to her, “look at this.”
She did, with Kyle looking over her shoulder. On page seventy-six, the corner was still turned down. Caleb had apparently got that far, and no further.
“So if he was marking his progress with dogears,” Miranda summed up, “there’s no reason to use a strip of leather. I get it. So that piece of leather isn’t Caleb’s. But then why is it here? What is it for?”
“And,” Jack added, “why did Skye Rogers want it so badly?”
Miranda was going to add something about how their mysterious find wasn’t the only thing in the room that Skye Rogers had wanted badly, but the blonde woman’s flirtatious behavior with Jack hadn’t been his fault, so she let it go. For now. “So I guess if we figure out what the thong is for, then we’ll know why Skye wanted it so much, right?”
She found Jack was staring at her oddly when she looked up, and she couldn’t figure out why, until she heard Kyle snickering.
“Heh,” he chuckled. “You said ‘thong.’ Heh.”
“Oh, grow up,” she said to both of them, her eyes on Jack in particular. “A thong is a thin strip of... never mind. We need to know what it is, right?”
“I already do,” he told her, the humor leaving his expression completely. He set the Colony 41 novel aside and took the long string of leather out of his pocket again. “Okay. I’m going to show you, but you need to trust me, okay?”
“What? Of course I trust you, Jack. Why? What are you going to do?”
Taking her by her shoulders, he turned her around so that she was facing the door to the room. “Just stand there.”
Then everything was quiet. Jack and Kyle were both still behind her.
A funny feeling began tickling up her spine. It was her sixth sense, her paranormal abilities, trying to tell her something. What could possibly be happening behind her—
Suddenly Jack’s hands were lowering on either side of her face, the leather string held tight between them, and he put it down under her chin and then against the crook of her neck.
Miranda panicked. The world shrank down to a single dot in her vision, edged with darkness, and she pushed herself back, into Jack, away from that strip that was only just brushing the sensitive pulse in her throat, scratchy and oddly warm.
She flung her hands up to beat at Jack’s arms.
Ducking, twisting, falling to her knees, she was out of his reach in a matter of seconds.
Looking up at him, she saw the look in his eyes, the words of apology forming on his lips. He wasn’t going to hurt her. This was Jack. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything. He was just demonstrating what that thing was.
A garotte. A weapon meant to choke a person to death. That explained the braided ends. It did not, however, explain why it was here in Caleb’s room.
In the next instant, just as Jack began to speak, he was shoved backward with an unearthly force as Kyle Hunter came to Miranda’s defense. He threw Jack across the room and up hard against the bureau. The small of Jack’s back took the brunt of it and then he was tumbling over the side and to the floor.
“Kyle, stop it!” he half-shouted, putting an arm up defensively. “I wasn’t attacking her!”
“I’m all right,” Miranda assured Kyle, rushing over to stand between the two men in her life. “Kyle. Kyle! I’m fine. It’s like he said, it was just a demonstration.”
Kyle looked horrified by what he had just done. He floated back, away from them, staring down at his shimmering blue hands as if he couldn’t believe that it was really him who did that. “I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened but when I saw him put that around your neck I just freaked out. Like I was really seeing your death and I just had to stop it. Tell him I’m sorry, please? I went full-blown spirit guide protector and I just couldn’t stop. Really, Miranda, I don’t know what came over me.”
“Me either,” she told him, remembering the absolute panic that had stolen through her when she’d seen Jack’s hands lowering and the leather had touched her. “Jack, here, let me help you. We’re sorry. We’re both sorry.”
She got him to his feet, and he hastily put the leather garotte away, looking around like he was expecting another ghostly attack at any second. “Uh, no worries,” he told her, sounding not all that certain about it. “I could have explained that better before I showed you, I guess. Um. Anyway. You get the point, right? This is a tool for murder. For choking someone to death.”
The knowledge of what they had found had sparked an idea in Miranda’s mind. “You thought Caleb had been choked to death, right?”<
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“Yes. There were marks on his neck that I couldn’t quite place. Bruising, but in a thin line. So, yeah. I think we just found the murder weapon.”
“You think Skye put it here?”
“Either put it here,” he said, “or knew about it. She was going to take that book with her when she left. If we hadn’t come up here when we did, no doubt this clue would have disappeared. That doesn’t explain what else she was looking for, but things are finally starting to come together. This was left here so we would think it belonged to Caleb and wouldn’t recognize it as the murder weapon.”
“Jack. That’s… that’s huge.”
“Yes. We’re one step closer to finding out the answers we need.”
“So what do we do with this information?”
“For now, we’ll keep it between us. I don’t want to tip off the killer that we’re onto their little ploy.”
She had to agree. If the forensics people found anything at the crime scene, combined with what they had found out so far here at the Blue Jay, they might have this whole mystery wrapped up in no time.
Although, she had thought that already today, only to be wrong.
“Miranda,” Jack asked her, holding her hand in his, “what happened just now? You and Kyle both know that I would never hurt you. What made you both freak out like that?”
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “Feeling that around my neck really scared me. I was terrified. Just for an instant, but still. It was like I was seeing my own death.”
He nodded, and the depth of understanding that she saw written in his eyes made her love him all that much more. “Was it a psychic thing? Were you maybe seeing Caleb’s death, right here in this room?”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “Maybe so. I’m just not sure, Jack. I’m sorry. Psychic visions are hardly ever as clear as they make them seem on TV.”
“That’s okay. Really, it is.” He pulled her close and hugged her tight. “We’ll figure this out together. Just like we always do.”
“Right-O!” Kyle agreed, floating closer again now that no one was trying to kill anyone—imagined or otherwise. “The three of us have got this. Well, four of us, if you count Jean-Paul. I suppose we could say five, if you want to count Sapphire with her crystals and black auras. Six, with the dog. Yup. Aren’t we just the Scooby Gang?”
Miranda laughed into Jack’s shoulder, reminding herself just how lucky she was to have these people who cared about her in her life. Even if one of those friends was a ghost with an overprotective streak.
Chapter 10
In the middle of a murder investigation, a dog’s bladder still needs to be emptied.
Butter met Miranda at the bottom of the stairs, pulling Jean-Paul along at the end of his leash. He pranced at her feet, not exactly whining but making that sound that she knew so well by now. His brown eyes looked up at her expectantly, and his every movement was speaking to her loud and clear.
Potty. Potty now, please. The dog needs to go potty. Please, please go potty. Go potty. Go potty!
“I am sorry,” Jean-Paul said in that accented way of his. “I was trying to keep him in the dining room with Sapphire. I thought, perhaps, the smell of the food would keep him there but as you see, he has other plans.”
She took the leash from him and favored the dog with a smile to let him know it would be okay. “That’s all right, Jean-Paul. He just needs to take a walk.”
“Didn’t you just take him for one when we got here?” Jack asked her.
“Yes, we did, but I don’t make you use the toilet just once a day, do I?”
Color reddened his face as he thought about it. “Uh, no. You’ve got a point there. Fine. Take him out but be careful. Can you lock this up in our van while you’re out there?”
He handed her the book, Colony 41, and Miranda took it with a questioning look. “Okay. I won’t be long.”
“Take Sapphire with you, okay? From now on none of us are going to be by ourselves. One of these people is a killer and I don’t want any of us alone with any of them until we figure this out. In fact, I’m going to call and have a couple of patrol officers come down here from the scene. Might have to be the Aussie Feds, because my guys are stretched really thin, but I’ll take what we can get.”
“Um. Maybe Jean-Paul should stay with Sapphire, then?” Miranda said, flicking her eyes up to where Kyle floated, offended and with his arms crossed, glaring down at Jack. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have… Butter,” she decided to say, even though both she and Jack knew that she meant her ghostly companion.
“Oh. Oh, right,” Jack stuttered, realizing his mistake. “Uh, right. Yes. Jean-Paul, could you go back and sit with Sapphire for now? I’ll be sure to come in and tell you guys what’s happening as soon as I know more.”
“Of course,” was the immediate answer. Jean-Paul would have no problem sitting with Sapphire. If ever a man was falling hard for a woman, it was this man, right here. Miranda thought it was cute, even considering the circumstances.
Jack gave her a not-so-quick kiss on her cheek. “I’m serious. Be careful out there. If you see anything suspicious or strange, then you and the pooch haul tail back here.”
She kissed him back, square on his mouth. She loved the feel of his lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid. You and I have plans tonight.”
“We do?” he asked, keen interest reflected in his eyes.
“Uh-huh. I was serious when we were upstairs.” She leaned up on her toes and whispered in Jack’s ears, telling him everything she had in mind. At least the highlights. She was going to leave the finer details to his imagination.
Judging by the smile on his face when she left, his imagination was working just fine.
Butter led her outside and over to the tree line, sniffing his way from one tree to another, once again looking for the best place to leave his mark. From Miranda’s point of view one tree was just like another. It wasn’t like she went from one lady’s room to another looking for the best one whenever nature called for her.
While she was following Butter around, Kyle floating along beside them, her mind wandered back and forth over the clues they had discovered so far. Finding the potential murder weapon was huge. There was no way to get fingerprints from it, was the only downside. Who put it in Caleb’s room, she wondered, and why?
Ginger and Caleb had been dating, a young woman and a much older man. Had something happened between them? Something worth killing over?
Then there was Ben Clark, the Melbourne police detective. He was Ginger’s uncle, and obviously not happy about them dating. He certainly would have been strong enough to choke Caleb to death with that cord. Especially if he knew Caleb was involved in criminal activity. Even if he was a police officer, there was something off about him. Something that Miranda could sense but not fully understand. It was more than the fact that he could almost definitely see and hear Kyle’s ghost, although that in itself was its own mystery.
Skye Rogers was up at the top of Miranda’s list. She was always going back and forth between caring about what was going on and flirting her way out of answering any questions. Plus, what was she looking for in Caleb’s room?
And was it her who planted the murder weapon there, or someone else?
Then there was the conversation on the tape recorder, with the threat on Caleb’s life, and the voice of that Braydon person. She was still convinced that person and Braydon Wise were one and the same. Who was the mysterious partner mentioned on that recording? Was it one of their four suspects or someone else?
What did that key open?
All good questions. None of them had answers. At least, not yet.
When she finally looked up again, she realized that Butter had brought them past the edge of the tree line, up to the road. Then he had turned them along the shoulder, moving steadily away from the Blue Jay Bed and Breakfast as he sniffed at the ground.
“Whoa, Butter,” Miranda told him. “Er, heel, I mean. Where a
re you going? Kyle, why did you let us walk this far away? We’re almost out of sight from the driveway.”
“Hey,” he protested. “I’ve learned that whenever you’re in one of your thinking moods it’s best to just let you go. Interrupting you is dangerous for a ghost’s health.”
“Very funny. I only threw a vase at you that one time. And it’s not like it hurt you.”
“It hurt my feelings,” he said petulantly.
Miranda rolled her eyes. There was no sense in arguing with Kyle when he got like this. Her ghostly bodyguard had been a very sensitive man while alive. Dying hadn’t changed that for him.
Giving Butter’s leash a gentle pull, she decided to head them back. Butter could find a place on the lawn to water or else he could hold it. There was too much going on right now for her dog to suddenly develop a shy bladder. Butter resisted, looking at her forlornly and trying to head down the road time and time again.
“What are you so worried about?” Miranda asked him.
Then she saw exactly what it was.
Down the road from Blue Jay, in the direction of the lakebed where Caleb Owen’s body had been laid to irreverent rest, there was a van parked on the dry grass of the shoulder. It was gray, and non-descript, but just the fact that it was parked here made Miranda suspicious.
The vehicle was facing away from them. There was a good chance that the driver hadn’t seen them yet. This was what Butter had wanted her to see. For all she knew, this was why Butter had wanted to come outside in the first place. She knelt down, making herself as small as possible. If she hadn’t been seen, then she just might have an idea.
Rubbing her hand vigorously over Butter’s neck and side, she whispered in his ear. “Good dog. Good boy.”
He smiled a doggy smile with his tongue lolling out and his tail thumping back and forth, back and forth. He didn’t bark, though. He must understand the need to be quiet now.
“Uh, Miranda?” Kyle said, having no reason to keep his own voice down. “What are we doing now?”