I approached Hiram. “Have you met Madam Zenya before?”
A grimace formed on his peeved and implacable face. “That's none of your business.”
“I see. Well, let's talk about something that is my business. What were you doing at Danby Landing the other day when the horse-drawn carriage hayride nearly burst into flames?” It had frustrated me that Nana D never learned who'd poured kerosene all over the much-anticipated, traditional Fall Festival autumn experience. “My understanding is that you were looking for Lloyd shortly before it happened. Did you ever find him?”
Hiram glowered. “I am not responsible for that mess. Already told Sheriff Montague, and I'll tell you too. Lloyd Nickels is lying if he says I tried to light him on fire for what he did to Prudence.”
“You must've been furious to learn that he locked your wife in the library.” I smirked at the judge, ensuring he knew I was on to him.
“Are you mad, Kellan? Of course, I was enraged with the lunatic. Prudence and I might have had problems, but I never wanted her to get hurt.” Hiram cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles. “You're awfully nosy. Why are you so interested in my former wife?”
“It's funny how you refer to her as your former wife instead of your late wife, almost as if you know she's still alive. How about we have an honest conversation, Judge Grey?” I confronted him about selling the house to me without revealing its history or providing the key to the basement, clarifying why I had involved myself in the situation with his missing wife and the intent behind the Slayer Law.
“I am not ashamed of the past. Prudence Garibaldi and I married too hastily, and when the dust settled after I attended law school, it became clear we weren't right for one another. The poor girl must've inherited her parents' mental imbalances.” Hiram confessed that he had partially married her for the wealth and property she'd bring to the table, but he'd hoped they'd fall in love one day. “We were young. Once her parents died in that tragic pirate episode, Prudence spiraled off the deep end. It was too late to divorce her because we'd just learned that she was pregnant. I tried to make it work.”
“I'm glad you admit the truth about your relationship. What happened the day of the fire?”
“Prudence wasn't able to care for Damien. The boy was only a few months old, and I couldn't leave him with her any longer. I told her we were done that morning. I left for class, suggesting she make plans for after the divorce.” Hiram recounted their conversation, citing he was only telling me because he had nothing to hide. “I believe in the truth. The law has always been on my side.”
“You stole the Garibaldi house from Prudence's family. How can you defend those actions?”
Hiram squinted. “I know extraordinarily little about this nonsense you speak of. Once Prudence and her parents died, it lawfully belonged to me, as her husband and sole beneficiary.”
“You seemed desperate to sell it to me after fifty years. Doesn't it belong to Prudence's son, Damien?” I watched his reaction carefully, curious if his body language would give anything away.
“I believe you saw Damien reject me less than ten minutes ago. He's a foolish man. He had no interest in living in the house when I offered it to him after his marriage to Lara Bouvier,” Hiram replied, seething at the thought of discussing Prudence. “If you must know, I had a recurring nightmare about letting go of the past. After much contemplation, I realized moving on was overdue.”
“Your family is angry with you. You have a way of inciting people. Do you genuinely believe Lloyd, Minnie, or Father Elijah had something to do with Prudence's disappearance?”
Hiram guffawed. “I'm no fool. No, I don't believe they killed the woman. They know something though, and I'd bet my last dollar on it being critical to discovering what happened fifty years ago. All I know is Prudence left town and never returned.” He paced in circles, waiting for Belinda and Madam Zenya to finish speaking. “That's it. I'm putting a stop to this nonsense.”
I chose not to prevent Hiram from interrupting their conversation. It was often advantageous to sit back and let a situation unfold on its own. It might provide the missing information I'd been searching for all along. When Hiram reached Belinda and Madam Zenya, they ceased chatting. I couldn't hear the details, but from the various finger snapping and hand slapping gestures, it wasn't positive.
Madam Zenya was the first to walk away from the conversation. As she passed by, something didn't quite feel right to me. I waited until she was a few feet away, then exclaimed, “It's a pleasure to formally meet you today, Madam Zenya. We haven't finished our chat from the corn maze. I believe you know my sister, Eleanor, and also recently met my daughter, Emma. We need to discuss your highly inappropriate discussion with her.” A shiver trailed the curve of my spine and stunned my body.
Madam Zenya froze in place, and without turning around, replied, “I'll be visiting you again soon to discuss the incidents occurring at the Garibaldi house. Rest assured, today wasn't our first or our last meeting. I will be in touch before the next harvest moon descends upon you.”
I was about to grab her arm to stop her when Hiram rushed past me, demanding that Madam Zenya wait for him. “That woman… it simply cannot be,” he muttered to the sky, shaking his hands.
He bolted too quickly for me to ask what he meant. Madam Zenya slipped into a town car, directing her chauffeur to drive away from St. Mary's. At least I knew she wasn't the stalker who'd been following me. Hiram scattered across the parking lot and escaped in his own vehicle, also not a Cadillac. That was two more people who weren't my ruthless prowler, unless they had multiple cars or had hired someone to follow me. Instinct suggested there were many threads to this conundrum, and if I pulled on a few random ones, I might unravel the whole knotted ball of yarn soon enough.
Before I could trail them, Belinda approached. “There's no explanation for this absurdity.”
Eager to have a moment alone with her, I concurred. “You're telling me. I cannot for the life of me understand what happened fifty years ago to result in such intense and chaotic drama today.”
“Damien is genuinely nothing like his father. I don't know why I ever thought I could love that mystifying man again.” Belinda closed her eyes and groaned loudly from years of pent-up frustration.
“What was Madam Zenya's message to you?”
Belinda laughed erratically. “She told me that Prudence wanted to thank me for being such a wonderful mother to Damien. It was an unreal experience to be in that woman's presence.”
“Because she's a medium? Or because it's confirmation that Prudence is dead, at least according to a renowned psychic?” Something was off with Madam Zenya, but I couldn't decipher the reason.
“I guess both. Prudence contacted her from the Great Beyond to insist the message be delivered at Ian's funeral.” Belinda pressed a hand to her chest and inhaled deeply. “I need to leave. This is too much for me to handle. I'm sorry for canceling our breakfast. Are we still on for tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Permit me to ask a few questions before you go?” When Belinda consented, I inquired why she ran away from Madam Zenya at the festival the day Emma had seen her. I couldn't comprehend the implication of these two events being connected.
“I'd suffered from a frightening dream the night before. When I awoke, I could swear Prudence Grey was standing in my bedroom. That's why I asked Madam Zenya how to stop a ghost from haunting me. I was also curious about the extent of Madam Zenya's talents, largely since she's headlining our Fall Festival. I should know her capabilities before our patrons do, right?”
“I suppose that's a solid point.” I couldn't argue with her logic. It still didn't explain why she'd been sincerely scared and had run away, nor why so many of us had been having such strange dreams and visions of Prudence. Was something paranormal truly going on in Braxton? I'd have to ask Madam Zenya about the circumstances. “Why was it so important for her to deliver the message here today?”
“Prudence told Madam Zenya she was
with Ian when he died. It seems our psychic knows who killed them both, but she is waiting for another message from Prudence before revealing the truth.”
My brow furrowed. “Do you have faith in all this? I've only recently become a believer myself. My sister Eleanor and my mother coordinated Madam Zenya's arrival. I barely know the woman.”
“I don't know what I believe anymore, but I need to get out of here. Something just doesn't feel right to me about the woman's powers. Being Catholic, I'm not supposed to acknowledge the validity of Madam Zenya's abilities, yet there's no other explanation available.”
“Then, why do you?” I leaned in closer, eagerly waiting for her response.
“Because she knew stuff, Kellan. She shared things I told no one else before.” A trembling Belinda rushed to the parking lot, preventing me from asking further questions.
I knew Madam Zenya communicated with the dead, based on what she'd revealed about Grandpop Michael. Was she being supplied with information from a deceased or very much alive Prudence Grey? If Prudence was still living and had somehow connected with the famed psychic, perhaps the two of them were scheming together to accomplish a goal we'd yet to discover. Regardless, I couldn't figure out what the endgame was or how it connected with Ian O'Malley's death and my new house. Nonetheless, I was determined to understand everything, including explanations for the so-called paranormal activity going on in Braxton. Someone might be savvy at playing games, but I was the master at sifting through lies and discovering the truth.
I hurried to Diamond Hall for Myriam's staff meeting. It thankfully went smoother than the previous week, given I wasn't reprimanded for tardiness or bolstering a colleague. After everyone shuffled out, Hope stopped me. “Can we discuss the research I'm about to send on the Grey family?”
“Yes, I have all the time in the world for that,” I jested, thrilled to catch a valuable break.
When Hope smiled, there was something more familiar and calmer about her today. “Just so you know, my mother has a difficult time discussing the details of her past. Sometimes she seems forgetful about it, other times I get the impression she doesn't want me to know everything. All I'm certain of is that she grew up here, left in a rush, and seems worried and remorseful.”
“You also mentioned she wanted to right a wrong. Did you figure out what that was about?” I thought it was best to understand the current state before moving into the past.
“Not yet. Once I knew my mother had lived here in the late 1960s, I leafed through school yearbooks, read historical town newspapers, and chatted with other people who'd worked at Braxton back then.” Hope shut the door so no one could overhear our conversation.
“What did you learn?” I'd been meaning to peruse copies of the newspapers myself but hadn't found the time. While I knew there was a connection between Raelynn and the Grey family, it wasn't an easy one to decipher. I also wasn't sure how much I could trust Hope's story under the circumstances.
“My mother worked with Hiram Grey when they attended law school together. He interned with the county's court system, and she interned at a local law firm, but I found some faded documents with both their names and signatures. I just haven't been able to read the details yet.” Hope explained that while her mother had abandoned her law career and moved away, Hiram became an assistant district attorney and eventually a judge. “Something doesn't feel right.”
“Do you think he forced her to leave town?” I inquired, theorizing if Raelynn had wanted to right a wrong from the past, perhaps there had been a blackmail scheme occurring between the two of them.
“It's possible. I found a picture of her and Prudence Grey in front of the library, and my mother had one with all three of them at an event in the courthouse shortly before Prudence disappeared.”
“Did they know one another well?” I mumbled, organizing a timeline of the events in my head.
Hope's eyes went wide. “It seems they'd socialized together, but I haven't been able to get my mom to talk about it. Unfortunately, I need to get to the Fall Festival at Danby Landing. I promised someone we'd go on a haunted hayride together this evening. I'll send photocopies of all the court documents tonight, then we should go through them together during the week.”
I would need to conduct some additional research on Raelynn's connections to Hiram and Prudence Grey. Something important was hidden beneath the wobbly surface. For now, Hope was right. I must embrace a relaxing and fun evening at the festival with Emma and Ulan. By the time we arrived at Danby Landing, April and Augie were already waiting for us. Augie and Ulan promised to monitor Emma, so I let them walk around the spooky corn maze before we'd participate in the haunted hayride. We agreed to meet before it got too dark, near the entrance to the horse stables.
April and I purchased two corn dogs and a funnel cake to share. While we sat at a table, we chatted about the case. “How do you go about solving this one? It's as if there are no leads on who would've wanted to murder Ian.” April split the cake in two and generously offered me the larger piece. Though the cake was delicious, I'd been craving butterscotch bread pudding all week long.
“To be honest, it's unlikely that we'll solve this crime soon. Too many possibilities. It could've been an accident, but I don't believe that's the truth. Prudence Grey could've killed Ian O'Malley and disappeared. Someone else could be the murderer, and even then, that person might be dead too, or we will never find them.” April shook her head, then leaned against my shoulder. “You smell nice.”
“Should you do that in public? Not that I mind, but we haven't been open to showing any affection in public.” I wanted to feel the weight of her body against mine, connecting on every possible level, as we developed whatever feelings surfaced between us. I also knew we hadn't discussed the situation or any appropriate boundaries.
“For once, I don't care. Sharing this moment with you makes me feel like nothing else matters right now. I might be the sheriff, but I'm a human being and a woman first.” April turned to me and cupped my cheek. “I wasn't always so hard-nosed, Kellan. When my fiancé was killed, I shut down an entire portion of my life. You're the first guy to ever make me feel those emotions again.”
“Are we acknowledging something more than flirtation?” I wanted her to say yes, but part of me worried about getting hurt. There was still the matter of April keeping mum about her supposed marriage, and I hadn't processed the impact of the number Francesca had done on me. Showing any amount of public affection before I was officially separated wasn't a pragmatic idea.
“I'll go out on a limb,” April began before kissing me on the lips. “I like you. I like the way you make me feel. I want to feel this way more often than not.”
“Then, let's go out on a real date. I want to take you somewhere with no phones, murders, or interfering family members who might or might not have good intentions.”
“Like your grandmother?”
I smirked. “Nana D will not be an issue. I was thinking of my wife.”
April pulled away. “Now that's a buzz kill.”
I held onto her. “Seriously, we have to consider everything around us. How about I promise to find a solution for that situation within the next few days if you—”
“If I what?” April asked smugly, batting her eyelashes friskily.
“Promise not to keep information from me about this case?” I wanted to ask about her previous relationships but didn't want to come across as needy or desperate.
April whispered in my ear, “Someday, you'll learn to quit while you're ahead, Kellan.”
April's phone chirped inches from my ear. “Is that thing set to interrupt us whenever we're within a foot of one another?” It was always stopping something intriguing from happening.
“Just a text this time about an issue at the spooky corn maze. I need to check it out. Connor is detained somewhere else.” April squeezed my neck and blew a kiss in my direction.
“We're not done,” I tossed back at her, enjoying the view as sh
e walked away. After April left to survey the disturbance at the spooky corn maze, Augie confirmed that Emma and Ulan had already left that area and were watching the Roarke sisters carve jack-o'-lanterns for the contest that evening. Four of the five sisters were competing against one another to see who would win the grand prize. Helena had abstained, since she'd cut herself with a knife when she was younger and avoided anything to do with them. She would be the guest judge this evening, which was sure to cause an uproar in their family regarding her decision. Which sister would she choose as the champion? My bet was Maggie would win the tournament. I began walking toward the horse-drawn carriage hayride to meet the kids.
As I walked past the orchard, my father approached, patting his stomach. “If I didn't escape all that food, I would've broken one of my cardinal rules and eaten dessert.” There were days I questioned if I could legitimately be his son, especially since I viewed desserts as an essential part of any meal plan.
I was about to ask where my mother was, when a strange noise thundered nearby. While attuning our ears to our surroundings, we both saw the horses galloping toward us from the opposite direction. The horse-drawn carriage rapidly approached, but this wasn't part of the regular trail for either the gentle or the scary route. I shoved my father to the ground and rolled into the bushes to stop us both from being trounced. What the devil was going on at the haunted hayride?
Chapter 11
Determined horses rushed past us with the second carriage trailing behind. It was filled with an excess of straw and contained at least one passenger. Hiram Grey half-stood and leaned on the rails, holding on for dear life. It was now a good twenty feet away, and I couldn't get a clear focus on who else was with him. As they maneuvered around a ravine, Hiram screamed out for help. No one was steering the pair of horses from the front coach. They were wild with abandon, trampling anything in their path.
Haunted House Ghost: Death At The Fall Festival (Braxton Campus Mysteries Book 5) Page 16