Who Killed the Ghost in the Library: A Ghost writer Mystery

by Teresa Watson

  “What’s the problem, Murphy?”

  “Someone just tried to kill your grandfather at the nursing home.”

  Mike started running toward the car. “Wait!” I said, grabbing my bag.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Mike and Kim said together.

  “Your grandfather was going out to the garden with my grandmother,” I said, passing him on the sidewalk. I’m going with you.” I’m pretty sure if you have a possible concussion, that running isn’t advised. But whoever came up with that rule didn’t have a grandmother being threatened by a murderer. God bless adrenaline.

  “But you need to go to the hospital!” Kim protested.

  “I will, after we make sure everyone is okay,” I promised her. I got into the front seat of the patrol car and closed the door. Mike and Steve didn’t say anything; they just wisely got into the car.

  The advantage of riding in a patrol car with lights and sirens is that you get to your destination a lot faster without the fear of getting a ticket. We stopped in front of the nursing home twelve minutes later. There were three other patrol cars there, along with a couple of county sheriff’s cars. An ambulance was parked behind one of the county cars. Ignoring the wave of nausea that swept over me, I ran after Mike and Steve as they ran through the front door.

  Nursing homes are like mazes, in my opinion, meant to confuse the mice so they can’t find their way to the cheese. Or in this case, to make sure that the people who lived there couldn’t find their way to the front door. We made a couple of wrong turns before we found the outdoor garden, which is in the center of the complex.

  Grandma Alma was sitting in her wheelchair, being checked out by one paramedic while his partner checked out Walt, who was down on the ground. “Grandpa!” Mike said, rushing to his side.

  “I’m alright,” Walt said.

  He didn’t look alright. There was a bruise on his cheek, a gash on his forehead, and he looked pale. The paramedic treating him looked up at Mike. “I think he might have broken a hip.”

  “What about her?” Mike said, pointing at Grandma Alma.

  “Sprained wrist, nothing serious.”

  Mike turned to the deputy that was standing nearby. “What happened here?”

  “We got a call about an assault in progress. By the time we got here, your men were already searching for the suspect.”

  His radio crackled. “Suspect in custody.”

  “Have them bring him to us.”

  The deputy nodded and relayed the message. “What happened, Ms. Alma?” Mike asked.

  “I went back to my room to get my binoculars. Walt thought he spotted a bird’s nest in that tree over there,” she said, pointing to a nearby tree. “When I came back out, someone dressed in black was beating up your grandfather. He fell to the ground, and the person pulled out a knife and stood over him, ready to stab him. I rolled up behind him and started yelling and beating him with my cane.” She held up her cane, which was bent in half. “I might have gotten a bit carried away. Whoever it was gave up and ran off.”

  “What were you thinking, Grandma?” I chided her. “You could have been killed.”

  “I wasn’t about to sit by and be a helpless victim, young lady,” she said sternly. “You know me better than that!”

  “She was great,” Walt said, smiling with pride.

  My head started spinning again, and I sat down on the bench next to Grandma Alma’s wheelchair. “You smell like smoke,” she said, getting a good whiff of me.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “Someone tried to blow us up.”

  “I don’t think they were trying to do that,” Mike said. “Remember what Oliver said? He thought it was just an attention getter. I think someone set that small charge to distract us.”

  “So that they could come here and…” I left the rest of it unsaid. “Are you convinced now that this has something to do with that old case?”

  He nodded. There was a commotion behind us, and two of Mike’s officers brought the suspect into the garden. He was dressed all in black, with a black ski mask covering his face. Looking at him closely, I noticed he didn’t look that tall or muscular. “Mike, I don’t think that’s a man.”

  He reached over and pulled off the mask. A tangled mess of red hair fell down. “It’s the woman from the hospital last night,” he said.

  Well, shut my mouth and call me a kumquat. I didn’t see that one coming.

  Chapter 30

  After spending ten minutes trying to get her to talk, Mike gave up. “Take her down to the station and put her in a cell. I’ll be there in a little while.”

  The paramedics put Walt on a backboard and gently picking him up with the help of Steve Murphy and another cop, placed him on the stretcher. An ACE bandage had already been put on Grandma Alma’s arm, and you could tell she felt it was a badge of honor. I knew my mother would not see it that way. The look on her face when she came rushing in told me I was right.

  “Mom! What happened? Are you alright? What’s wrong with Walt?” she said, kneeling next to Grandma Alma’s wheelchair.

  “Quit fussing, Charlotte, I’m fine. Walt broke his hip.”

  “What were you two doing out here?”

  “Fighting off a killer,” she replied.

  “What?!” My mother looked up at me. “What is she talking about?”

  I gave her a brief rundown of the morning’s events. I didn’t think it was important to give her all the details; that would just upset her more. However, I didn’t anticipate that her anger would be directed at me.

  “You dragged her into this, Camille! What were you thinking? She’s too old to get involved in these things! She can’t defend herself if someone tries to attack her.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I replied. I grabbed Grandma Alma’s cane and showed it to Mother. “How the heck do you think this happened? Because she was trying to do the two-step? She beat Walt’s attacker with it! Seems to me she defended herself and Walt just fine.”

  “Cam’s right, Charlotte. If it weren’t for Alma, I’d be dead,” Walt said.

  Mother didn’t know how to respond, so she just grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and steered it toward the door. I saw Grandma Alma roll her eyes and smile as she rolled away. If looks could kill, the one I got from my mother as she walked by would have dropped me to the ground in less than a heartbeat.

  Mike stood next to me. “Don’t take it personally; she’s just worried about your grandmother. I’m sure I’m going to get the same lecture from my mother when she finds out about this,” he said as they wheeled Walt away. “Come on, we’ll follow him to the hospital. You can get checked out while you’re there.”

  I knew it would be pointless to argue, and to be honest, I didn’t really want to. The adrenaline rush was gone, and I felt tired and sore. Murphy gave Mike the keys to his patrol car, saying he could get a ride with one of the other officers. As we headed to the hospital, I couldn’t help but think about the girl sitting in a jail cell. “Do you think she was his partner?”

  “What?”

  “Do you think the girl at the jail was Jake Yarborough’s partner?”

  “Mercenaries don’t usually work with other people, Cam. They survive in the business by depending on no one but themselves.”

  “Well, I doubt that girl is a mercenary,” I said.

  “She certainly doesn’t have a problem trying to kill someone, though.”

  “Do you think she killed Jake?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “While you’re getting checked out, I’ll go upstairs and talk to Spooner to see what he remembers.” He cast a sideways glance at me. “What else are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Well, I’m just wondering who has the most to gain from killing Cliff, Aggie and your grandfather?”

  “Amelia Ashton?”

  “What does she have to gain? She hasn’t lived here in over sixty years. There are
Underwoods living in her father’s house, and she signed the Ashton house over to Aggie. Doesn’t that mean that Aggie’s next of kin inherits?”

  “You’re getting into lawyer territory now,” he said.

  “Suppose Amelia gave up the house because Aggie was blackmailing her?”

  “You mean because of the children?” I nodded. “If she got the house by illegal means, and blackmail was illegal even in the 1950s, then Amelia could get the house back. But again, I’m not a lawyer, so I don’t know if I’m right or not.”

  I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Randy. He has a lawyer on retainer, and I asked him to check into the blackmail thing. He wanted to know why, but I told him I would explain later. “Randy is going to check with his lawyer about the blackmail legalities.”

  “Good.”

  “I don’t know Amelia at all, but she didn’t strike me as the type of person who would resort to hiring someone to bump off people.”

  “Right now, she’s the only suspect we have,” Mike said. “Even little old ladies can resort to violence. Need I remind you what your grandmother just did?”

  “That’s a different situation. She did it to save a life. If Amelia did it, it was pure revenge.”

  “I could give you the old clichés, but you know them already. She’s our best suspect.”

  “Now you just have to get the proof.” A thought popped into my head. “I wonder if the kids had trust funds set up by their grandfathers?”

  “I don’t know, probably. Why?”

  “I was just wondering if they were still active accounts, or if they had been closed,” I replied as we pulled into the hospital.

  “I’ll give Jo a call and add it to the list of things for her to do.”

  After he parked the car, we made our way to the emergency room. I leaned on Mike a bit for support. My head was spinning, and my ears were ringing. “You know, you owe Jo an apology.”

  “For what?”

  “For calling her a nutcase about seeing ghosts. You can’t say that anymore; you’ve seen one, too.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  When we got inside, the paramedics were wheeling Walt in from the ambulance bay. Mike left me there while he went to check on Spooner, so I went over to see his grandfather. “How you doing, Walt?” I asked him as the paramedics paused by the admitting desk.

  “I’m starting to feel like I was hit by a battering ram,” he said. “How about yourself?”

  “I feel like a spinning top.”

  “What exactly happened this morning?”

  I explained what happened to us, telling him what Oliver said about it being a controlled explosion. “For a controlled explosion, if that’s what it was, it made a lot of noise and quite a mess.”

  “It’s pretty easy to do. You just have to know how much explosives to use, and the exact spot to put it. As you said, it makes a lot of noise and leaves a mess, but if done right, no one gets hurt.”

  “As long as you aren’t actually sitting in the car when it explodes.”

  “You weren’t, were you?”

  “No, we were several yards away from the car when it blew up.” One of the nurses directed the paramedics to a room, and I followed behind them. “Is it alright if I stay with him for a little while?” I asked her.

  “I don’t see why not,” she smiled. “It makes the time go faster if you have someone to talk to while you wait.”

  After the paramedics left, I pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

  “Did you know Amelia Ashton well?”

  Walt nodded. “I knew both families fairly well. The Underwoods were much friendlier than the Ashtons, not as snobby. Despite what I said about them earlier, they were always trying to do things for the community. The Ashtons, on the other hand, acted like they were holier than thou, you know the type.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean.”

  “Never understood what Amelia saw in Stanley, or why she agreed to marry him. Everyone in town knew he had been seeing Aggie Foley before the wedding. I think the only reason Stanley married Amelia is because his father wouldn’t let him marry Aggie. She was from the wrong side of the tracks, as it were.”

  “She was poor and lower class.”

  “Exactly. But she had her hooks in Stanley, and he couldn’t give her up, even after the wedding.”

  That would explain why she lived all those years in that house with his ghost. “Do you think Amelia would try to get even with Aggie after all these years?”

  “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  “Do you think she would hire someone to kill Aggie?”

  “For having an affair with Stanley?” He thought about it for a minute. “I don’t think so. Despite being exposed to the Ashton family’s snotty attitude, Amelia was always nice and polite. When she wasn’t around her husband, she was very friendly and polite. But if Stanley or his family were nearby, she was quiet and withdrawn.”

  “What were the kids like?”

  “Cecilia was like her mother. Beautiful, bright and happy. Their son Stanley was a pretty nice kid, until those last few months before his father’s death. He became moody and sullen.”

  “That could have been a normal teenage thing. He was fourteen when his father died, right?”

  He nodded. “I don’t think it was because he was a teenager. I think something happened that made him bitter. He got into trouble at school, even stole something from Allen’s Grocery store. Mr. Allen decided not to press charges, but his father was furious. Stanley IV just looked at him, as if he was daring to try and punish him for it. It was very strange. I’ve often wondered what happened to those kids over the years.”

  I told him what Amelia had said about the terrible car crash that had killed Cecilia and scarred Stanley IV. “Amelia has no idea what happened to him. She said once he was physically able to take care of himself again, he disappeared. She hasn’t seen him since.”

  The doctor came in at that moment. “Chief Penhall, how are you doing?”

  “I’ve had better days, Arnie. How’s the folks?”

  “They’re doing just fine, sir, thank you for asking. Is this your granddaughter?”

  We both laughed. “I wouldn’t mind if she was, but she’s my girlfriend’s granddaughter. My grandson is around here somewhere. He’s the current police chief.”

  “That’s great he followed in your footsteps,” the doctor said. “I’m going to examine you now, so the young lady might want to step outside for a while.”

  I stood up and squeezed Walt’s hand. “You do what he tells you to. When you feel up to it, we’ll have to play another game of poker.”

  “No way! You’re a hustler just like your grandmother,” he said. I kissed his cheek, squeezed his hand again, and left.

  I went back down to the admitting desk. “Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to the woman sitting there, “but could you tell me what room Officer Spooner is in? I came in with Chief Penhall.”

  “He’s in Room 302. Chief Penhall told me to make sure that you were seen by a doctor. He said you were knocked unconscious this morning.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “I’m not about to go against the chief’s orders, ma’am,” she said.

  “I was with the chief last night when Officer Spooner was shot and that patient was killed. I just want to check on the officer and make sure he’s alright.”

  “You poor thing! That must have been so awful for you.”

  “Certainly not the most pleasant experience I’ve had,” I admitted. “And I’m sure Officer Spooner didn’t enjoy it, either.”

  “I heard all about it this morning in the employees’ lounge,” she said. She looked around, her grey hair flipping left then right, before she leaned forward. “The story is that poor officer was shot in the chest and both legs. He might have to have one leg amputated.”

  “The poor man,” I said, even thou
gh I knew he had only been shot in one leg and had been wearing a bulletproof vest. “I’ll just go see how he’s doing.”

  “Make sure you come back here so we can get you checked out.”

  I assured her I would, even though I didn’t really want to. I got on the elevator, pushed the button for the third floor, and leaned against the back wall. I really needed to change clothes: my jeans were dirty, and there was a small tear on the sleeve of my purple polo shirt. I ran my fingers through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck. What I wouldn’t give for a nice, long massage.

  The elevator chimed and the door opened. I followed the room signs until I found 302. There were a couple of officers milling around in the hallway, and I smiled at them as I entered the room. Officer Spooner was sitting up in his bed, talking to Mike. “You certainly look a lot better than you did last night,” I said as I approached the bed.

  “What are you doing up here?” Mike said. “I thought you were getting checked out.”

  “I wanted to see how Officer Spooner was doing. They’re checking out your grandfather right now.”

  “I’m doing just fine, ma’am, thank you for asking,” Spooner smiled. “It was very nice of you to check on me.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Spooner was just telling me what happened. Please tell Ms. Shaw what you told me.”

  “You two had just left when this cute redheaded nurse came over to see if I wanted some coffee or something to eat. I told her no, and we chatted for a couple of minutes. I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned around, there was a man standing there with a gun. I tried to draw my weapon, but he shot me in the chest and then in the leg. The nurse tried to take my weapon, but I managed to keep her from doing that. She held me down, which wasn’t hard to do since I was bleeding like crazy, while he went into the room. I heard a muffled gunshot, and he went running past me and down the stairs. She left me lying on the floor and went back to the nurses’ station. It was five minutes before she called anyone, I guess to give him plenty of time get away.”

  “So we were wrong about her being Yarborough’s partner,” I said to Mike.

  “Looks like it. Did you get a good look at the man?”