Giving Up the Ghost

by Marilyn Levinson

  "A business deal."

  "You mean the land you bought from your four friends and sold to the developers?"

  "Of course not. That happened several months earlier."

  "Did Jill see the cash?"

  "Probably. A courier delivered it just before she arrived, and I was stashing it in the bottom drawer of the desk." He peered at her. "Five hundred thousand in hundred dollar bills take up a lot of room."

  "I wouldn't know," Gabbie said.

  "I started drinking after she left. Not martinis, which I preferred, but gin straight from the bottle." He gave a little laugh. "I only did that once before in my life, at a fraternity party."

  "Was it because you knew you'd made a mistake, sending her away?"

  "Could be, but I wasn't about to change my plans, either."

  A huge yawn escaped, and she quickly covered her mouth.

  "Sorry if I'm boring you," Cam said.

  The fragile male ego. "It's nothing to do with you. I've had a grueling week, and my fatigue has caught up with me. Right now I'm much too tired to think. We'll talk about this tomorrow." She stood. "Good night, Cam."

  * * * *

  Gabbie woke up refreshed. She hummed as she leaped out of bed and danced her way to the bathroom. She recoiled when she realized she'd been humming an old song entitled "Taking a Chance on Love."

  "I sincerely hope this good mood is not because of Darren Rollins," she told her reflection.

  Intending to take a brisk walk after breakfast, she put on an old sweatsuit and sneakers. She ate a bowl of hot cereal, and was sipping her second cup of coffee when the phone rang.

  "Morning, Gabbie. It's Darren."

  She glanced at the clock. It was only eight-thirty. "How did you know I'd be up?"

  "And I hope you slept well, too." he said.

  He's an ignorer, He won't hear what he chooses not to hear.

  "I slept just fine. I'm going walking, and later I plan to run some errands."

  "This afternoon I'll be directing traffic and keeping an eye on things over at the high school till about six. They're holding the indoor Olympics, which is a big deal around here. I asked my deputy, Lionel Daggett, to take the late shift for me."

  "Oh." She was touched that he'd called in a favor for the sake of their date.

  "There's this terrific restaurant in Southhold I think you'll like. How's about I pick you up at seven?"

  "Seven's fine," she said, and felt a foolish smile spread over her face as she put down the phone.

  She shivered when she stepped outside the front door. The cold nipped at her cheeks and nose. Though the sun gave off meager heat this early in the morning, it brightened the day with overtones of cheer. Gabbie took care as she made her way down the wobbly wooden stairs to the beach. She could break her neck on these steps. She shuddered, thinking of Cam.

  Someone had broken his neck, perhaps stood with him at the edge of the bluff and pushed him down. No, that couldn't be. Cam was murdered in the den, before someone tossed him over the cliff. Someone strong enough to carry him, or Darren would have seen drag marks. And if he'd seen drag marks, he would have known that Cam had been killed.

  Unless... Gabbie shook her head so hard she almost lost her footing. She refused to consider Darren a suspect. Darren was the police chief of Chrissom Harbor and Cam's best friend. What's more, he struck her as an ethical person. To think anything else meant she'd allowed her disillusionment with Paul to turn her cynical and suspicious of every man she met. She needed Darren's help to find Cam's killer.

  The sand was firm beneath her sneakers as she began her stretches. Several feet away, the water appeared dark, almost opaque, as it lapped gently against the shore. Gabbie looked around, surprised at how many people made use of the beach in the dead of winter. A runner whizzed by, waving as he passed. She smiled at a gangly boy dragging his stick along the sand while a black Lab wandered down to the water. The boy ignored her, but the dog came over to lick her hand.

  She preferred race walking to jogging, and started off at a comfortable pace. Someone came up on the left and she moved to let him pass.

  "Morning, Gabbie."

  It was Terry Lopez, looking damn sexy in black spandex pants and a matching jacket.

  "Hi, Terry." She flashed him a smile and watched him run past. He moved along in a nice, easy stride totally in sync with his compact, well-built body. Not that she was interested in his body, except as an aesthetic attraction.

  A minute later he disappeared around the curve and from her thoughts. Gabbie built up her speed until she was breathing deeply. She race-walked for twenty minutes, and then turned around, hoping to recognize the stairway that led up to her cottage. She should have made a mental note to remember a landmark.

  "Hi, again," Terry called out on his return. He jogged beside her, slowing down to her pace. He pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his face.

  "Do you do this every Saturday?" she said.

  "Run the beach? Occasionally, when the weather's decent. It's a nice change from the gym."

  "I see lots of people have the same idea."

  "Why not? May as well take advantage of what the town has to offer." He gave a little laugh. "Which isn't much, at least not during the winter."

  They slowed down to a walk. "Then why do you stay here?"

  "Habit. I like my house and, believe it or not, the job. Our dealership is one of the busiest in Suffolk County."

  "Then you must really be a great salesman."

  "I won't say no, but our manager knows what he's doing. We fill many orders from outside the tristate area." His keen eyes met hers. "And how do you like our little town?"

  Gabbie turned from him to gaze out at the Sound. "It suits me fine till I decide what to do with the rest of my life."

  "Ah."

  The one syllable expressed enough sympathy and understanding to open the floodgate of the dam. Gabbie hovered on the verge of spilling out the whole sorry story of her sour marriage and the ugly divorce. Just in time, she gathered up her resources and drew a deep breath.

  "I enjoy teaching the kids," she said instead. "And trying to solve the mystery is taking up the slack."

  Terry wrinkled his brow. "Mystery? Oh, right. You think that maybe Cam was pushed to his death."

  Gabbie stopped walking and eyed him intently. If she expected to solve the murder, she had to stop pussyfooting around and start asking the difficult questions. "That's right. Drunk or sober, I find it hard to believe he fell from a place he'd known all his life."

  Terry blinked, and then gave a little laugh. "So what? Nobody gives a damn, except for Darren Rollins and a bunch of pathetic love-starved women."

  "That's a strange thing to say. I thought you guys were friends."

  Terry shrugged. "Cam was a great drinking buddy, but he wouldn't think twice about stabbing you in the back."

  "You mean the land deal?"

  "For one thing. While the four of us made twenty-five thou each, Cam got a million and a half easy."

  For one thing? "From what I've heard, Cam got more because he put the deal together."

  "So what? Anyone could have done it. Anyone whose cousin works for the county and gets wind of construction companies checking out land to buy and develop."

  Terry bent down to tie his sneaker. He was about to take off.

  Gabbie racked her brain to drum up more questions that would give her more information. "What kind of business was Cam in, anyway?"

  Terry stood up and raised his eyebrows. "Nothing nine to five, if that's what you mean. He was always on about some hot deal. Always coaxing us to put money in a new stock or some dot-com business while they were hot."

  "Did you invest?"

  "Sometimes," Terry admitted. "I made a few thou, lost a few. Came out about even." He pointed a finger at her. "But Reese, Don, Jack, and I figured it out one night. Good deal or bad deal, Cam always came out ahead."

  "But he continued to live in
the cottage," she said. "If he was making so much money, where did it all go?"

  "Most of it went into bank accounts in his brother's name. We found that out after he died. You see, it wasn't the money Cam was after, but the game."

  Gabbie wasn't so sure, but now wasn't the time to discuss what made Cameron Leeds run. Instead, she said, "Is that how he saw women, as a game?"

  Terry froze. Yes! Gabbie cheered silently. She'd hit the mother lode.

  Finally, he said, "All women were game to him, especially married women."

  "Your wife?" she said softly.

  The nod was barely perceptible. "She practically had a breakdown when he dropped her. We split. She took our kids and moved back to New Mexico. I hardly ever get to see them anymore."

  "I'm sorry," Gabbie said. A rage like a brush fire flared up inside her breast. Poor Terry. No wonder he was glad Cam was dead.

  Terry waved as he moved away. "Gotta go. See you at Logan's Place."

  "See you." Gabbie watched him start up a wooden staircase. After a while, she headed for home.

  Cam, you've been careless with people. Just like Daisy Buchanan.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Gabbie dashed past the den, glad that Cam wasn't around. Upstairs, she showered and dressed, and then drove into town to run errands. On impulse, she stopped first at Don's wife's beauty salon.

  The place was bright and cheerful, the walls and stations done up in purple and silver. Four operators, all women, were busy at their chairs, cutting or blow-drying hair, while other customers sat in plastic capes, their hair covered in gook, waiting for their coloring process to take. The harried receptionist hung up the phone and asked Gabbie how she could help her.

  Gabbie tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. "I'm long overdue for a hair cut."

  The receptionist pressed her lips together. "Sorry, there's no way I can fit you in today. Marnie's out sick, and the other operators are on overload doing her customers and their own."

  A short, dark-haired woman approached the desk. Her plump, curvaceous body exuded energy, sex appeal, and abundant self-confidence. "Nancy, have Dilly shampoo Mrs. Havens. Then she can pull through the color on Sonia's hair."

  Gabbie turned to leave, but halted when a fuchsia-taloned hand touched her arm. "You must be the new school teacher."

  "Yes, I'm Gabriela Meyerson."

  The woman's dark eyes twinkled with mischief. "Don described you to a tee. I'm Tessa, by the way, and you're in dire need of a good hair cut."

  "I know, but since you're completely booked, I suppose I can live like this another few days."

  "Not if I have anything to say about it," Tessa said. "Nancy, see who's free to wash Ms. Meyerson's hair. I'll be cutting it myself, soon as I blow out Deena Tibley and her mother."

  "But Tessa," Nancy protested. "You have Marnie's two perms and--"

  Tessa didn't bother to answer. She winked at Gabbie. "See you in a little."

  Minutes later nimble fingers massaged Gabbie's scalp, and then rinsed the shampoo from her hair. She almost moaned with pleasure. This was the closest she'd come to heaven in the longest time.

  "You can sit up now." The slight, pretty young woman had a lilting Spanish accent. "Tessa will be with you soon." She patted Gabbie's hair dry, placed a fresh towel around her shoulders, and directed her to Tessa's station.

  Tessa was in deep conversation with the woman whose hair she was blow drying. "I say enough is enough! Go to the police. Get your brother to sue the school. That will force wimpy Tim Jordan to do something."

  "I can't." The woman's voice was low, but familiar.

  Gabbie recognized Sonia. "Charlie won't say one word against those boys. They told him--" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  Tessa leaned forward to catch the rest of the sentence. She sighed. "Pacifying them won't help the poor kid. They'll only come down on him worse."

  Gabbie nodded in agreement. The motion caught Sonia's attention. She stared at Gabbie and gasped. In one jerky motion she stood and pulled off the plastic cape, and ran toward the coat room.

  "Come back, Sonia," Tessa called. "I still have to spray you."

  She slapped her hands against her thighs, and gave Gabbie a sheepish grin. "Me and my big mouth. Now I won't see her for at least six months."

  "I know about the latest incident," Gabbie said. Tessa's easy manner encouraged her to add, "I was having dinner at Jill's, when Charlie called Theo. I couldn't help overhearing what had happened."

  "And no one stops those bullies!" Tessa's voice rose in anger. "Things are going to escalate. Mark my words, someone's going to get hurt real bad."

  Gabbie shuddered.

  "Come and sit here. Let's see what I can do for you."

  Once Gabbie was seated, Tessa stood behind her and studied her face in the large mirror. "Hmm, you've a perfectly oval face. Have you ever considered the close-cropped look?"

  Gabbie swallowed. "You mean cutting most of it off?"

  Tessa lifted a lock of Gabbie's hair. "Keep it full at the crown, tapered in the back. You'll look smashing."

  Gabbie giggled. "Let's go for it. I could use a change of hair style."

  "To go with the changes in your life?"

  Gabbie stiffened, and then relaxed. "New place, new job, new haircut," she said airily. "Why not?"

  Tessa was still studying Gabbie's face in the mirror. A slow smile spread across her face as she clipped back all but one section of hair. Holding it taut, Tessa snipped--short, fast motions.

  "So, you met Jill and Fred," Tessa said as she completed one section and moved on to another.

  "Uh huh."

  "A bore, isn't he? Can't imagine why she doesn't pick up and leave him." Tessa let out a chuckle. "Though folks around here must be wondering why I don't do the same."

  Gabbie wasn't about to so much as clear her throat at that. But the mirror must have given her away, because Tessa said, "For all his faults, Don loves me. I need that to start me going in the morning."

  "I hear he's very devoted to you," Gabbie said politely.

  That got her a big guffaw. "And no doubt you heard about my fling with Mr. Sexy Bones, your former landlord."

  "Well--" Gabbie wasn't certain what to say next. Tessa's blunt revelations rendered her speechless, a feat no one else had managed to accomplish as far back as she could remember.

  Tessa lowered her head until her lips were a hair's breath from Gabbie's ear. "Cameron Leeds was the sexiest, most romantic male ever put on this earth. I don't regret it for one single minute. Pity it was only four times, total."

  "I heard he was quite a Romeo."

  "And then some," Tessa agreed. "No problem if you heeded what he said about just having fun and not getting involved. Of course, sometimes he didn't take his own advice."

  "Jill?" Gabbie said.

  "Uh huh. But the fool couldn't see it. I bet he went to his grave never realizing how much he loved her." Tessa resumed her snipping.

  Gabbie stroked her now bare neck as she studied herself in the mirror. It looked great. She looked exotic. French. "Wow, I like it!"

  "Wait till I'm done," Tessa said. "The men will be after you like flies."

  "Oh, great. Just what I want." Gabbie made a face. They both laughed.

  "What about Terry's wife?" Gabbie said. "I heard she had an affair with Cam."

  "So Terry gripes every time he gets a chance. Pilar and Cam? Now that's a twosome I'd swear never got off the ground. I think he played big brother and listened to her moan about Terry." Tessa lowered her voice. "Did you know he beat her?"

  "No!"

  "Hold still! I almost turned you into Van Gogh. Here's a towel."

  Gabbie pressed the cloth to her stinging ear. "But Terry's so nice. I was just talking to him down at the beach."

  "I know and we all love him, but sometimes he flies off the handle. Besides, Pilar was homesick for the Southwest. She's happier living there. She's dating someone now, and the kids like him, too."

  "Go
d, you know everything that's happening!" Gabbie said, amazed.

  Tessa waved her hand. "What I just told you, you could read in the local paper. It's nothing like some of the stories people tell me in confidence, stuff they know I'll take with me to the grave."

  She grabbed her hand dryer and directed the air flow all over Gabbie's head, using her small brush to set the hair in place. When she was finished, she handed Gabbie a mirror. "Now look!" She spun the chair around.

  Gabbie stared in awe at the back of her head. Short wavy hair tapered to her neck, giving her a sexy, playful look.

  "Great, huh? Shows off your fabulous features. I'd kill for those cheekbones, not to mention your shapely little nose. Next time how about going for some highlights?"

  "I don't think so, Tessa."

  Tessa shook her finger. "Don't be closed-minded. Just consider it." She grinned. "Have a great time tonight with Darren."

  * * * *

  Unbelievable! Gabbie walked around the corner to pick up a few things at the drugstore. You'd think they read each other's diaries from the way they know the intimate details of each others' lives: wife beating, affairs, even my date with Darren. But, with the exception of Jill, no one even speculated that Cam might have been murdered.

  A disturbing idea flashed through her mind, bringing her to a dead stop. An elderly man bumped into her. "Sorry," she apologized, oblivious to his admonitions that she look where she was going. What if everyone in Chrissom Harbor had taken part in Cam's death, kind of like what happened in Murder on the Orient Express? No, she decided. Cam was never malicious or cruel.

  Unless he'd done something really awful, something that everyone--including Cam--was keeping mum about.

  She bought a jar of moisturizing cream and a box of Band-aids, and then dropped her boots off at the shoemaker for new soles and heels. Back at the cottage, she opened the country-style metal mailbox and was about to reach for her mail, when she saw the bloody remains of a field mouse on a piece of white cardboard. She yelped and jerked back her hand.

  Gabbie fumbled for a tissue to cover her glove so she could removed the cardboard from the mailbox. She disposed of the mouse in the woods at the side of the cottage. She would have tossed the cardboard as well, but there was a message written in block letters with a green magic marker: