Second Sight

by Mac Flynn

  Ambigo opened the driver's door and nodded at the other side of the car. "This sounds like a job for the police, but I'll let you come along."

  I snorted and strode over to the front passenger door. "Don't mind if we do, officer."

  Troy followed and took a seat in the rear of the car, and our merry band drove on our way.

  CHAPTER 12

  We drove down the winding road with the whisper of a small breeze. Ambigo glanced at me. "Did you recognize this woman you saw?"

  I leaned back and furrowed my brow. "Yeah. I saw her in the drug store yesterday afternoon. The owner called her Bertha."

  Ambigo raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder. "I see."

  I frowned and leaned toward him. "I can see, too. You've got to spill a scoop to a reporter when she's the one holding it."

  Ambigo sighed and returned his attention to the dark road. "We can't be sure it's her-"

  "But you are," I interrupted.

  "Is she elderly, about eighty?" he asked me.

  I nodded. "About there, and she seemed pretty friendly with the owner."

  Ambigo pursed his lips and glanced over his shoulder at Troy. "Does that sound like Bertha Aude to you?"

  I looked over my shoulder in time to see Troy nod. "It does."

  "So who's she?" I asked them.

  "Bertha Aude is the wife of Connor Aude, the pastor of the church," he explained.

  I whistled. "Now things are getting interesting. What kind of a church are we talking about? The midnight-in-the-graveyard kind?"

  He shook his head. "No, non-denominational, but not the kind that has their members go to the churchyard after dark."

  "Then she's breaking the rules," I quipped.

  We soon arrived at the cemetery. Ambigo drove the car through the arched gateway and stopped ten feet shy of the first row of graves. We got out and looked around. The place was quiet. Too quiet.

  Ambigo pulled a flashlight from beneath his seat and clicked it on. "Where did all this happen?" he questioned me.

  I nodded at the left-hand side. "Over there."

  I led the three men to the below-ground crypt with its staircase and pointed at the subterranean alcove. "We dropped down there to hide from her." I glanced at the tree line. "And she was kneeling in front of those large trees."

  Ambigo stepped down the stairs and shone his flashlight on each step. Troy walked past us and over to where Orion and I had seen the woman. I followed him.

  The trees in that part of the tree line were ancient willows mingled with maples. Their soft-wood branches hung from their silver-hued limbs and waved in the slight breeze that floated over us. The grass was tall and thick, and looked like it hadn't seen the blade of a mower in a decade.

  Troy paused in front of one particularly knotty willow tree and looked at the ground. I followed his gaze. At our feet, nestled in the dead leaves, sat a small clear-glass candle holder with a half-burnt yellow candle inside.

  I stooped and picked up the holder. The wax of the candle was solid, but the glass was slightly warm. I turned it over in my hand and frowned. "She bought this today."

  "What'd you find?" Ambigo asked as he came up behind us.

  I held up the candle. "Please tell me this isn't a witch's candle."

  He took the holder and shook his head. "No. The wax is store-bought. Witches prefer home-made with specific herbs and spices added into the mix." He held the candle beneath his nose.

  "It's pumpkin spice," I told him.

  He pulled the candle away and nodded. "Yeah, and newly purchased judging by the store scent."

  I stood and nodded at the candle. "That was one of the reasons Bertha went to the drug store today. To buy that candle."

  Ambigo stooped and brushed his hand over the leaves and tall grass. He frowned. "How strange."

  I raised an eyebrow. "I'll bite, what's strange?"

  He pulled aside some of the grass and revealed a small pile of rotten wax. There must have been dozens of stubs. "She's been doing this for a long time."

  I tilted my head back and swept my eyes over the grand tree. The trunk was four feet round and the top of its crown stretched a hundred feet into the night sky. Its fluttery branches waved in the breeze and a few thick, stiff branches groaned.

  I stepped around the trunk and looked over the silvery bark. On the opposite side my foot caught on a thick root hidden beneath the layers of grass and dead leaves. I tripped and reached for the trunk to catch myself. My hand grabbed a large piece of bark. The bark gave way beneath my weight and I fell hard onto my side.

  "Damn it," I swore beneath my breath as I sat up.

  Troy and Ambigo hurried around the trunk. Ambigo shone his flashlight on me. He froze and his eyes widened.

  I raised my hand and blinked against the harsh light. "Will you get that thing out of my face?"

  "It's on more than your face," he commented.

  I glanced to my left at the trunk. The bark I tore away had revealed a small opening that showed part of the trunk was hollow. From that hole hung a couple of thin, short white branches connected to a round one. I leaned close to the opening. My breath caught in my throat. Those weren't branches.

  They were the bones of a human hand.

  I yelped and scrambled back. Ambigo and Troy took my place, one on either side of the hole. The detective peeked into the hole with his flashlight. His face was grim.

  I swallowed my heart that had become lodged in my throat. "Are all the parts there?"

  He continued to look into the hole as he nodded his head. "Yeah." He glanced at Troy. The old man's face was grim. "The station is going to have to be alerted and this tree cut open."

  Troy nodded. "Yes, of course." He turned to me and held out his hand. "Did you need some help?"

  My legs shook so hard I thought my feet would fall off. "All I can get," I quipped. I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet.

  I leaned on Troy and looked down the hole into the tree. A thin, rotten slab of ply board, colored gray with faded and peeled paint, peeked over the bottom edge of the hole. Behind the board lay the rest of the skeleton. The de-fleshed body was clothed in a brown suit with a soiled white shirt beneath the coat. It was its left hand that hung out, and I glimpsed a tarnished bit of metal on one finger. Its legs were tucked against their chest and their head leaned to one side. The jaw hung open as though in a silent scream. I couldn't see any obvious trauma on the bones.

  Ambigo stepped back and glanced at us. "Can you two stay here while I go to the station?"

  Troy nodded. "It would be our honor."

  Ambigo pursed his lips and looked back at the hole. "Don't say that until we figure out who it is, and don't touch anything until I get back. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes." He hurried across the cemetery to the car. The headlights of the car receded and then vanished into the darkness.

  I glanced back at my bony, silent companion. My mind wandered to the memory of Mrs. Priest-wife kneeling before the tree and worshiping the skeletal thing trapped inside the bark.

  "I have known Bertha for quite a number of years," Troy spoke up.

  I looked to him and raised an eyebrow. "Is she the type to be leaving candles at unorthodox graves?"

  He smiled and shook his head. "On the contrary, she is a very sensible woman."

  I snorted. "She was insensible enough to come out here in the middle of the night and light a candle for a skeleton."

  I walked around the tree and stopped in front of the candle and the pile of black wax. I knelt beside the ancient balls of wax and pushed them aside as my mouth silently mouthed the count.

  Troy came up behind me. "Ambigo won't be pleased to know you touched evidence."

  "We'll just tell him a hungry candlestick came by and rummaged for food in this dumpster pile," I quipped.

  He chuckled. "That would be a very original tale."

  I ran out of candles and furrowed my brow. "Sixty-five."

  "Years?" Troy asked me.


  I shook my head. "No, can-" His comment and the number clicked a memory. My eyes widened. The words came out in a stifled whisper. "William Mallory."

  Troy leaned down. "Pardon?"

  I shook myself. "It's nothing. Just had a strange sneeze."

  Troy chuckled. "Then God Bless you."

  I stood and brushed my knees off. My eyes wandered over the craggy old willow with its dark secret. "If only he would."

  CHAPTER 13

  Ambigo arrived with a couple of police cars behind him. Troy and I were set to the side as the officers went to work cording off the area and widening the hole in the trunk. Ambigo stooped beside the pile of candles. He pulled out a pen and tapped them apart. His eyes flickered to me.

  He stood and pocketed his pen before he strode over to us. "Did you touch that pile?"

  I shrugged. "I was just trying to tidy up before you guys got here. Sorry about the leaves."

  He pursed his lips. "I could have you thrown in jail, both for tampering with evidence and for being an uncooperative material witness."

  "A good reporter's gotta report," I countered.

  "You'd find that much harder to do in jail," he argued.

  I stepped back. "You'll have to catch me first."

  Troy set a hand on my shoulder and smiled at the detective. "I have a compromise. She will remain in my care until such time as she is no longer needed for your investigation."

  Ambigo arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to do that? She's a lot of trouble."

  "Don't forget persistent and stunning," I quipped.

  Troy chuckled. "I believe I can handle her. Besides, we must see how Orion is faring."

  The detective glanced from me and back to Troy. "Why isn't he here?"

  I grabbed Troy's arm and pulled him toward the car. "He's having a spiritual awakening. We'll be sure to tell him you said 'hi.'"

  "I'll be around the motel as soon as the investigation is over here," Ambigo warned me.

  I waved to him over my shoulder. "We'll be sure to lock the doors."

  I pushed Troy to the car and we slipped into our seats.

  Troy glanced over to me and smiled. "You have a flare for comedy in your half-truths."

  I started the car and shrugged. "It's a gift, but that's not important right now. What is important is what's going on here." I reached behind my seat and snatched the folder from the rear seat. "We found this at the library tonight."

  Troy took the folder as I drove us out of the cemetery. He studied the name and nodded. "I remember William well."

  My foot punched down hard on the gas and the car jumped forward. I lifted my foot and whipped my head to him. "You knew William Mallory?"

  Troy set the folder in his lap and closed his eyes. A sigh escaped his lips. "Yes. He was an assistant to the Librarian. I believe the Librarian hoped to one day pass on the position to the young lad."

  I pursed my lips. "So what happened?"

  Troy shook his head. "He disappeared one Halloween night. The last person to see him was a-well, a close friend. He declared his intention of walking to Madam Bentley's home to attend a seance, but he never appeared. A search was called the next day, but he was never found."

  "What would they have done to him if he had returned?" I asked him.

  Troy smiled. "Given him a firm reprimand."

  I glanced at my passenger and arched an eyebrow. "That's it?"

  He opened the folder on his lap and picked up the police report. "Times were very different then. There was more freedom of movement. If someone wished to leave they were encouraged not to, but were not physically restrained."

  "Like I was," I commented.

  His face fell and he nodded. "Very much so."

  I glanced at the report. "So was there ever an investigation?"

  Troy set the report back on top and shut the folder. He brushed his hand over the cover and shook his head. "No. No foul play was ever hinted at. He simply disappeared."

  I slowed the car and frowned at him. "Who said anything about foul play?"

  Troy smiled and his eyes twinkled as he glanced at me. "Did I say that?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "You know something, don't you?"

  He patted the folder. "Nothing more than is known within these documents."

  "Uh-huh," I commented as we arrived back in town.

  I turned into the parking lot. The office door opened and Orion's tall figure stood in the light. He leaned against the door frame and smiled at me as I stepped out.

  "I need to lose weight, huh?" he asked me.

  I walked up to him and shrugged. "You are pretty heavy."

  Troy came up behind me and smiled at Orion. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

  "And all thanks to me!" Bentley's shrieking voice spoke up. She appeared behind Orion and bowed her head to Troy. "I can say for certain the ghost won't attack him again tonight."

  I arched an eyebrow. "How can you be so sure?"

  She frowned at me. "Because the sun's coming up, of course."

  I glanced over my shoulder at the eastern horizon. A faint glow peeked over the tops of the hills.

  "Then perhaps Miss Lyal should return Orion to their home," Troy suggested.

  Orion shook his head. "I'm fine. The nap really helped." He took a step forward and stumbled over his own toes.

  I caught him before he hit the hard ground of the parking lot. "Back to your old self," I quipped.

  He grinned. "Maybe I'm just trying to get closer to you."

  I rolled my eyes. "Or maybe you're just a terrible liar."

  "Would both of you please leave?" Bentley growled.

  Orion saluted her. "Yes, ma'am, and thanks for all the help."

  "That's madam to you!" she snapped.

  He smiled and nodded. I helped him over to the car and opened the passenger-side door. The folder lay in the way, but a quick snatch and a soft drop, and he was in the car.

  I dropped the folder into his lap and grasped the door in my right hand. "Hold this, junior reporter."

  He grinned. "So I've been promoted again?"

  I grinned. "You didn't kick the bucket, remember?"

  He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "It kind of feels like I did."

  "Then look lively, Soldier of News, because we're not done yet," I quipped.

  "I thought that was Soldier of Fortune," he returned.

  I snorted. "Obviously you've never tried making a living as a reporter."

  I slammed the car door shut and slipped around the front to my own entrance. Troy cupped a hand around his mouth. "Keep good care of that folder. The Librarian is rather strict about the condition of lent items."

  I dropped into my seat and frowned. "What's he mean by that?" I asked Orion as I started the car.

  Orion leaned back and closed his eyes. "It means if we don't return the folder and the contents in the same condition we found them we're stuck with library duty."

  I backed out of the spot and shrugged. "That doesn't sound that bad."

  "You ever tried to wrangle a group of school kids in a library?"

  I shook my head as I drove down the road. "No."

  He chuckled. "Believe me, it's a nightmare."

  I glanced at him. He still had his eyes shut. "What'd you do? Return a book late?"

  He grinned. "I've never been on the receiving end of the nightmare."

  I snorted. "You were a little angel in school, weren't you?"

  "With some added accessories like a tail and horns."

  "No accordion?"

  "My mother wouldn't allow one in the house. I think she had a fear of musical instruments."

  "Only if they were played by you, I bet," I quipped.

  He chuckled. "Probably."

  I brought him up to speed on the grisly details before we reached home a few minutes later. Orion took the folder and I helped them both inside. I paused at the bottom of the stairs. Orion's arm was still draped over my shoulders. I looked up the long flight.
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  "You know, I think the couch looks darn comfy, don't you?" I asked him.

  He grinned. "Very comfortable, but you've got a promise to keep."

  I frowned at him. "Promise?"

  He nodded. "We're back from the cemetery, and it's Halloween. That makes it time for costumes."

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. "All right. Just let me get you onto the couch so you have a ring-side seat for the show."

  I dropped Orion onto one of the couch cushions and he tossed the folder onto the coffee table and stretched himself out on the couch. He waved his hand above himself. "On with the show!"

  I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or disgusted, so I opted for fulfilling my promise. I walked upstairs and slipped into my compiled costume. The parts fit perfectly, and I did a quick check in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I wore a ankle-length, light greenish skirt that hugged my hips. A tank-top covered my upper half, and a similar-colored bandanna sat at an angle across the top of my head. Over both my eyes were the two eye patches, but with holes through them so I wouldn't be making the close acquaintance of the furniture.

  I nodded at my reflection who nodded back, and strode downstairs.

  Orion turned at my coming. His eyes widened and a whistle escaped his lips. "Check out that booty."

  "I'm not a pirate," I insisted as I walked around to the front of the couch.

  He grinned and shrugged. "You could be whatever you want just as long as you stay in that costume."

  I crossed my arms and glared at him. "Aren't you even going to ask me what I am?"

  "A female pirate?"

  "I said no to that already."

  "A parrot-like pirate?"

  I rolled my eyes. "No."

  "A dollar bill?"

  I dropped my arms to my sides and frowned at him. "I'm Lady Justice."

  He blinked at me. "I don't see the resemblance."

  I gestured down at my costume. "I'm wearing her colors, I'm blind, and if you're not careful I'll rob you blind. Get it now?"

  He tilted his head to one side and opened his mouth. We were both saved from an awkward conversation by the ring of the doorbell. Orion draped his arm over his eyes and sighed. "Whoever it is tell them to go away."

  "What if they're Girl Scouts?" I asked him.

  "Tell them I'll trade you for two boxes. If they won't take that then there's a hundred in the cookie jar. I want a half dozen boxes of mint cookies."

  I snorted as I walked over to the door. "I don't think that's enough money." I peeked through the peephole. My face fell. "No cookies today, but we are getting a nice steaming pile of trouble." I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door. "Good morning, Detective Ambigo."