Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel)

by Lynn Bohart

  She’d almost made it, when she heard a soft bark and snapped to attention. She’d left Soldier on the back porch with access to the backyard. She veered towards the gate and the protection of the dog. Lee reached for the gate latch, fumbling with the lever and sneaking glances over her left shoulder. Soldier was in the yard and pushed against the lower part of the gate, whining and pawing at the ground. The bushes along the walkway rustled again, and Lee nearly wet her pants. Her hand slipped. Soldier began throwing her eighty-plus pound frame against the gate, barking a high-pitched alarm. Frantically, Lee struggled to unhook the latch.

  With a snap, the gate released and swung open with the full weight of the German Shepherd behind it. Lee flew backwards, landing on her back in the damp grass, her head bouncing off the ground. A cat emerged from the bushes and skyrocketed across the lawn. Soldier leapt into action, landing a big paw on Lee’s shoulder as she launched herself in hot pursuit.

  Lee lay there for a long moment staring up at the night sky, listening to the canine’s fading bark, all thought of imminent danger gone. She tried to catch her breath, but it came in short gasps, and her heart pounded so heavily it reverberated on the ground beneath her.

  What a fool she was. This was the second time in two days she had been humiliated by a cat. Perhaps danger still lurked around the corner, but at this point, she didn’t care. She was drained of all incentive to move until a shadow loomed above her, and a rough tongue took a sloppy swipe at her face.

  “That’s it!” she announced, pushing off the grass.

  Lee got up, and the dog sat down, as if waiting for the praise she was surely due.

  “Just until this weekend and then back you go to Corvallis,” Lee snapped, pointing a finger in the dog’s face.

  Lee grabbed Soldier’s collar and dragged the dog back to the open gate.

  “You are in the dog house,” she said, closing the dog in the backyard again.

  Just then, the tan sedan screeched away from the curb in front of the house and headed south. Lee took a deep breath. She didn’t like that car and wanted to know who owned it. But, she wasn’t about to go around to the front door. So, she picked up her purse and decided to enter the house through the back door.

  She left the dog on the porch again, and used her key to open the back door. She stepped into the back hallway, closing the door behind her. She moved down the hallway to the front door and peered through the small window. No one was outside. She flicked the light switch up and down and the light flickered a couple of times. It was only a faulty switch. She’d ask Patrick to take a look.

  Lee always left a light on in her dining room, which fronted the street, but the rest of the house was dark. She turned on the entryway light, and threw her purse and coat over a Shaker-style chair next to the staircase.

  “Life is getting just a little too spooky,” she said out loud, rubbing her shoulders to warm herself up.

  To her right, the living room remained cloaked in darkness, while the hallway to her left created a murky tunnel running to the back door. She walked back down the hallway and was just turning into the kitchen, when a hand emerged from the darkened study behind her and covered her mouth with a sweaty palm.

  Lee tried to scream, but all she could manage was a muffled grunt. A second hand grabbed her right wrist and spun her around, slamming her up against the wall. Suddenly, a man’s full weight was pressed against her. She twisted her head to the side, gasping for air, but he was much taller and heavier, and the weight of his body forced the air out of her lungs. She was pinned to the spot and his knee was shoved into her groin.

  Lee tried to get her arms free, hoping to scratch at him, but he used his shoulder to immobilize her head and then grabbed her other wrist and wrenched both hands behind her back. He used one hand to encircle her wrists like a handcuff and then leaned into her again, chuckling.

  She could smell a hint of a musky aftershave under sweat and body odor and could feel the scratch of a coarse sweater against her cheek. Lee couldn’t see the intruder’s face, but the top of her head fit just beneath his chin. She thought he was wearing something over his head, but couldn’t be sure.

  Lee tried to shout, but couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs. She tried to break free, which seemed to please her attacker more than make him mad, and suddenly, she realized it wasn’t his knee anymore in her groin. Panic welled inside her, and she pushed off the wall a few inches, trying with desperation to raise her knee up to block his intent. With a sudden jolt, he slammed her backwards again, bringing his lips next to her ear.

  “Ssshhh,” he shushed with a deep whisper.

  With his entire weight pressed against her, she was helpless. She stopped moving, gasping for air. Tears slid down her cheeks. Then she felt his hand.

  “No!” she whined.

  Before she could take another breath, his fingers had slipped underneath her sweater and down her jeans. Lee pushed against him again, twisting and struggling to free herself, but he only chuckled with deep satisfaction.

  Keep moving, she thought. Make it difficult. But it didn’t work.

  His tongue slid across the tip of her ear, sending a shockwave through her entire body. She cried out, but his fingers were moving downwards, struggling to get past the elastic band of her panties.

  Oh God, she thought. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t happen. A loud bang sounded in the background, and Lee thought maybe her head had been slammed against the wall. But it happened again, and she realized it was something else. It was Soldier, trying to get in. The fingers faltered. There was another bang, and Soldier started to bark a high-pitched alarm, her paws actually hitting the window in the back door.

  Suddenly the attacker was gone.

  He disappeared into the night, leaving Lee a shrinking, sobbing mess.

  She slid to the floor, shaking violently. It was a full ten seconds before she realized Soldier was still barking and pawing at the back door. She struggled to rise, using the wall to propel her into a standing position. Still gulping for air and crying, she stumbled up the hallway and opened the door. The dog bounded forward and slid to a stop long enough to stick her nose into Lee’s hand. Then, she headed straight for the front door. But the attacker had slammed the door shut and Soldier threw herself at the closed front door in a frustrated attempt to pursue him. Lee had no doubt that had Soldier made it inside in time, she would have had the satisfaction of watching the dog make mincemeat of him.

  Lee slid down the wall to sit on her heels and waited for Soldier to come back up the hall. When she did, Lee grabbed her collar and drew the dog close, burying her face into her fur.

  “Thank you, Soldier. Thank you,” she sobbed. “You’re a good dog, Soldier.”

  Then, she just cried.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The antique pendulum clock on the wall struck ten o’clock with slow, even strokes. The police had come and gone. Lee had only told them about the breakin, not the assault, feeling an intense sense of shame she couldn’t overcome. Now she sat at the dining room table watching the street, her emotions shut down, but her nerves on alert. Her ears sought out every nuance of the night, magnifying the mere ticking of the clock on the wall. When the heater kicked on with a rush of warm, stale air, Lee almost came apart at the seams.

  After Diane’s death, she had laid awake nights speculating how someone could have killed her friend so easily. Did they pose as a delivery person? Did Diane know them? Lee tried to imagine how it was done with no mess. No noise. No alarm. Now someone had broken into her own home and violated her with such ease.

  The police had found a side window broken. But although the first floor had been ransacked, from what Lee could tell, nothing had been stolen. But why? Had it been a case of attempted theft, and she’d interrupted him? Or, something even more sinister? Had the attack been the objective in the first place? The combination of fear and shame she felt now was enough to shut off the blood flow to her brain.

&nbs
p; As the clock finished striking the hour, Patrick’s Mazda pulled up to the curb. She’d called him at rehearsal and asked him to come stay the night. She went to the door and peeked through the window to watch his lanky figure emerge from the little car. The chill that had settled deep inside her soul began to lift as he ambled up the walkway. Lee flung open the door with what she hoped would be a smile, but as Patrick made it to the top step, she felt her composure break. He quickly put his arm around her shoulders as they walked side by side into the house.

  “I’m glad you called. You okay?” he asked, closing the door behind them.

  “I’m okay,” she lied.

  “Did the police find anything? Any way of identifying who it was?”

  They went into the living room, where Lee had only done a minor cleanup.

  “Whoa!” Patrick exclaimed. “You weren’t kidding.” He went to the entertainment center and looked inside. “They didn’t touch your stereo, or the TV. So why the mess?” He looked around him, then over at Lee. “They were looking for something,” he said with confidence. “You don’t think this had something to do with Diane, do you?”

  Lee sank onto her sofa feeling very cold. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

  “I don’t’ know,” she rubbed her eye sockets, trying to release the headache that was forming again.

  “What about the message Diane left on your answering machine?” Patrick asked. “Wouldn’t Bud Maddox know about that? Diane could have told him she was going to call you that night to tell you about not going in to work the next day.”

  Lee stared into the fireplace the way Carey had. She felt dead inside.

  “If Bud knew about the tape, why didn’t he come to get it before now?” she countered. “The message has been sitting on my machine for days. Maybe this has nothing to do with Diane.”

  “You don’t believe that.” Patrick began picking papers off the floor and stacking them on a table by the fireplace.

  “Maybe someone was just trying to scare me.”

  “And, did they?”

  The sound of a car’s engine could be heard passing the house, and Lee glanced nervously out the window thinking it might be the tan sedan.

  “Are you scared, Lee?” Patrick repeated, holding the cushion to a chair in his hands.

  She turned to look across the room at him. Patrick was so familiar. He always smelled like the peanut butter he spread on his morning toast and wore the same dark green socks whether his pants were brown or gray. In his presence, she felt invincible. His arm had been the shield that protected her from the violent arguments when her father drove off angry and alone. His smile changed rain into sunshine and made up for a mother’s mood gone as bad as sour milk. But that was then. And now, was now.

  “Yes, I’m scared.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, until Lee broke away. A long pause followed.

  “All right, then.” He took a deep sigh and threw the cushion into the chair. “I’ll straighten up down here a bit. I’ll sleep in Amy’s room tonight, and I’m moving in tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

  “Okay.” She had hoped he would say that. “What time are you due in class tomorrow?”

  “Not until ten o’clock. You go on up. I’ll check doors and windows.”

  “The police helped me nail shut the window where the lock was broken,” she said as she got up.

  “Okay. Get some rest, Lee. You don’t look too good.”

  She merely nodded and climbed the stairs as Patrick continued down the hallway to the back porch. Lee paused at the door to her bedroom, rubbing her eyes. She had only given a cursory look in here when she’d walked through the house earlier and now realized that a couple of her drawers were open. She would have to survey the room to see if anything was taken, but first things first. She started for the bathroom, stumbling over Soldier, who had come up with her. The dog had stopped to sniff something at the foot of her bed. Lee halted, a curse poised on her lips. When she saw the file folder lying open on the carpet, she stopped mid-curse, all thoughts of sleep gone.

  Patrick came around the upper landing a few minutes later and found Lee sitting on her bed, staring at the folder in her hands.

  “What is it?”

  Lee looked up at him, but her jaws wouldn’t move to allow her to form any words. Patrick stepped into the room and took the folder from her. He read the index tab.

  “Where did this come from?”

  His eyebrows were knit into a suspicious glare. Soldier sat at attention next to Lee, as if waiting for a command. Lee just continued to stare at the folder. Finally, she forced out six words.

  “It was inside my top drawer.”

  “What? The folder? Why?”

  “I just put it there. I suppose I didn’t want anyone to know I had it.”

  “That’s understandable—I daresay you’re not supposed to have it. This is Bud Maddox’s personnel file. Isn’t that illegal, Lee?”

  She dropped her head. When she looked up, there were large tears in her eyes.

  “That man was in my bedroom, Patrick.” The chill that flowed through her body this time felt like a cold electric current. A sob bubbled out, and she wrapped her arms across her chest as she began to shiver again. Patrick came to sit beside her.

  “Lee. It’s okay. He’s gone. He’s not here.”

  “It’s not okay,” she snapped. “Don’t you get it? Someone was here. In my house. In my bedroom! He…” But she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t tell Patrick about the assault and what had really frightened her.

  His eyes softened, and he lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. I just meant that he’s gone now. You weren’t hurt. But what was he looking for, Lee? Why was he here?”

  She wiped her nose while tears flowed unabashedly down her face. “I don’t know.”

  “You said someone broke into Diane’s place, too. Whoever it was must be looking for the same thing. Do you remember anything Diane gave you recently that could be suspicious?”

  Lee thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No. She hadn’t given me anything in a long while.”

  Patrick was working the situation, trying to make sense of it. “Magazines? Books? Bills? Reports? Anything?”

  “No.”

  “How about antiques? Anything with a drawer or secret chamber in it?

  Lee smiled as she wiped her nose. “you’ve’ been watching too many bad movies.”

  He sat back, tapping the older. “Well, there’s got to be something. This wasn’t a normal breakin. Nothing’s gone. Not even this folder.”

  “Maybe that means something,” she said, using her sleeve to dry her face.

  “What?”

  “If it was Bud, wouldn’t he have taken the folder with him?”

  Patrick shrugged. “Not necessarily. That could have pointed a finger directly at him.”

  “Yes, but since I’m not supposed to have the folder in the first place, maybe he would have counted on my silence.”

  Patrick tossed the folder onto the bed. “Well, we’re not going to solve this tonight. You get to bed. I’ll be right down the hall.” He paused for another moment, gave her a half smile and left.

  Lee sat for a few more minutes, feeling like a beanbag on a store shelf – dead weight. Finally, she got up and went into the bathroom and stripped bare. She took a hot shower, scrubbing every inch of her body as if she could wash away that ugly moment in time. When she finally prepared to climb into bed, she thought about Maddox, or whoever it was, filling her bedroom with his presence. With a yank, the bed sheets and blankets came off, and she threw them into the hamper.

  Five minutes later, she slipped in between clean sheets, feeling somewhat free of the disgusting essence of her intruder. As an added measure to change the energy in the room, she invited Soldier onto the bed. The dog bounded up, turned in a circle once, and then stretched out and pushed up against Lee’s hip. The warmth of her body felt good, and safe, e
ven though it took nearly forty more minutes before Lee’s muscles relaxed and her eyes closed.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lee awoke to find Patrick asleep in the big chair next to the window in her bedroom, a pillow clutched to his chest. His auburn hair lay in soft curls around his face, matched by a splash of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He looked cramped, uncomfortable, and incredibly peaceful. Lee smiled as she watched the easy rise and fall of his chest. The fact that he’d chosen to stay close made her want to hug him as tightly as he hugged the pillow. Instead, she got up and tiptoed to the bathroom.

  When she emerged a little while later, the chair was empty and she heard Oh Danny Boy being whistled downstairs. A few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a long silk blouse, she descended the stairs wondering how she would approach the day. The horror of the night before had faded some, but not disappeared altogether. The ground had shifted. Her confidence had been broken. Lee didn’t like the feeling. In competition, that’s when you failed.

  When she entered the kitchen, Soldier barely acknowledged her. Instead, she was focused on Patrick as he used the back of a spatula to flatten sausage into a frying pan. The dog’s ears stood up like exclamation points, and saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth. As Lee pulled a mug off the wall and proceeded to make a cup of tea, Patrick looked over his shoulder.

  “Pancakes or French toast?”

  Lee chuckled. “You’re the chef, you decide.”

  With a flourish of the spatula he said, “Pancakes it is!” He peeked over his shoulder a second time. “You don’t happen to have any blueberries, do you?” When Lee gave him an incredulous look, he said, “I thought not.” He turned down the stove, gave Soldier an encouraging pat on the head and muttered, “Just a few more minutes, kiddo.”

  “You can quit spoiling the dog. She’s not staying, you know.” Lee placed a mug of water into the microwave.