“You said up to no good. Any idea what?” Harper asked gently.
“None. If I knew for sure, I’d have him out of here,” Lizzie replied firmly.
Harper nodded in understanding, but she really didn’t know what else to say. Harper wasn’t quite understanding what Lizzie meant, but it seemed like a family feud. Harper asked, “Did you tell the police about your suspects?”
“Yes, of course, I did,” Lizzie said. “I was ready to divorce my husband. He was never faithful, but we made it work through the years. I got tired of competing for his attention. I want to live out my old age in peace. I was ready for the fight. I would have taken satisfaction in beating him in court or having him settle to keep his indiscretions off the public record. There’s no victory in his death.”
Harper thanked her for being so forthcoming with information. As they got up to leave, Lizzie dropped another bomb. “I don’t know if I’d consider him a suspect, but my husband had a very contentious relationship with Dan Barnes, the editor-in-chief of Rock City Life. Mr. Barnes had threatened to expose something my husband was recently working on. Maybe it was that Catholic parish mess. I know they had words recently. If it was more than that, I don’t know. But I’d keep my eye on him.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Harper looked back at the home as they closed the door. She felt an overwhelming sense of sadness for Lizzie. She related to the woman. Harper was days to forty, would never have children, and she had been in a marriage where her partner didn’t remain faithful. That can take a toll on a person.
Harper in many ways imagined this is what her own life might have turned out like had she not left Nick when she did. Some women stay. That was never a choice for Harper. Once she found out about the affair, Harper made a plan to leave. There was no question in her mind.
Harper could feel Jackson’s eyes on her. She turned to him, and he admitted, “That went nothing like I thought it would.”
Harper couldn’t find the right words to say so they walked in silence back to his truck.
Standing in the driveway, Jackson asked, “What did you think?”
Harper kicked at a stone in front of her foot. “I don’t think Lizzie had her husband killed. I think she’s right that if she did it, it wouldn’t have gone down the way it did. Her suspect list seemed on target though. Well, except for Dan.”
Jackson leveled a look at her and raised his eyebrows. “We are going to have to get into that at some point, but I’ll save you the fight right now. You know, I was surprised. I didn’t think Lizzie would be so…” Jackson paused.
“Strong?” Harper offered.
“Yeah, Lizzie doesn’t seem like someone who would just keep living with a man who was cheating on her. I wanted to ask her why she stayed so long but didn’t feel it was my place.”
Harper looked back up at the house and back to Jackson. “That could have been my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“My husband and I both came from money. No kids. We could have easily bought this house. My penthouse was twice the cost of this in Manhattan. But the moment I found out he cheated and was involved in criminal activity, I knew I was filing for divorce.”
Jackson looked at her. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Finally, he admitted, “My ex-wife had an affair while I was overseas in Afghanistan. She told me in a letter. I was at war. What the hell was I supposed to do about it? When I got back home, I left her. I’m not someone who could stay either.”
Harper had suspected the end of Jackson’s marriage wasn’t his fault. But never in a million years would Harper have guessed that his wife cheated while he was at war, literally fighting for his life. She didn’t even know his ex, but Harper started to hate her on a very visceral level. Harper reached out to him and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. No one deserves to go through that.”
Before Jackson could respond, the two of them were met with a police car pulling up the driveway. Harper looked to Jackson, and then watched the approaching car, trying desperately to come up with a good reason for being at Lizzie’s house.
The car came to a stop right next to Jackson’s truck. Det. Granger stepped out. He didn’t look angry so much as confused. He hitched his jaw at them and asked, “What are you two doing here?”
Harper swallowed hard. “I came to pay my respects. I didn’t want to come alone so Jackson came with me.”
Det. Granger and Jackson shook hands. He gave Harper’s shoulder a squeeze. “I only partially believe that. Why are you really here?”
When the two didn’t say anything, Granger ventured, “Let me guess, Matthew Inslee has made you suspicious that we won’t do our jobs and you decided to check things out for yourself?”
“Something like that,” Jackson responded, not giving too much away.
Det. Granger looked up at the house and stared there for a few seconds too long. Harper followed his gaze. They had an audience. Drew was standing in a second-floor window glaring out at them, hostility written all over his face.
“Lizzie gave us her suspect list and then told us her brother Drew was up to no good, but she said she didn’t know what,” Harper offered. She was hoping that if Granger knew they weren’t trying to hide anything that he’d go easy on them.
“Lizzie never said anything like that to me,” Granger said dryly. Then he added, “I know Inslee has been giving you and your aunt a hard time. I didn’t feel we had any reason to search Hattie’s home, but Inslee pushed through the warrant for the search. I had to oblige him, but we found nothing just like I thought. I don’t see things as he does.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Harper asked cautiously.
“Because,” Granger started, “I need you to trust me to do my job. I’ve already gone to my captain with my concerns about Inslee getting a warrant for your aunt’s house. I just came from a closed-door meeting with Bill Myers at the prosecutor’s office. I saw Inslee on the way out, and he says you threatened him. You apparently told him if he continued to mess with you and your aunt, let me quote here, ‘he’d feel the full weight of the Ryan empire crashing down on him.’”
Jackson watched her with a look of both admiration and surprise. Harper just shrugged. “I don’t think those were my exact words, but Inslee got the gist. We may not have connections here in Little Rock. We may not be part of the good old boys’ club and the power brokers in this city, but in Manhattan our name means something. We have the money, resources and power to back it up. I simply made Inslee aware that if he was trying to scare us, it wasn’t going to work.”
“He got the message,” Granger retorted, “but it also made him angrier. He’s not someone to threaten. Inslee tried to get a warrant for your aunt’s shop. He was denied that for now. He’s not someone you want to keep going after.”
Harper didn’t say anything. She continued to stand her ground, not giving an inch. Jackson’s eyes were fixated on her. She could mentally hear the questions he had.
Granger continued, “I can’t control Inslee, but I can promise you I’m doing my job. And part of doing my job is making sure you aren’t getting hurt in the process.”
“I hear you, Detective,” Harper humored him. “I’m not going to feel safe until the killer is caught.”
Granger folded his arms over his large chest. “That’s my point. I want whoever it is caught, too. I also want you out of my investigation. You have no idea what you’re going to uncover.”
“You’ll be the first I call,” Harper said and turned to leave.
“I’m serious, Harper. I can arrest you for obstruction of justice,” Granger threatened.
“Trust me,” Harper assured him calling over her shoulder, “I’m not going to do anything that will warrant that. Please by all means find the killer as fast as you can. If I happen to hear of anything, because it drops in my lap, I’ll call you.”
With that Harper left the two of them standing there. She got in Jackson’s truck and waited.<
br />
She watched as Granger turned to Jackson and told him to keep an eye on her and not let her do anything stupid. Jackson gave a half-hearted nod and joined her in the truck while Granger walked into Lizzie’s house.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hattie was a bit flustered after Roxy came to the shop, but she had to pull it together because she had more clients scheduled for readings. It took a lot of sage and some quiet meditation to calm Hattie’s energy down and put focus where it needed to be.
As soon as she wrapped the last of her readings, Hattie practically ran out of the shop. On her way home, she even brushed off one of her neighbors who wanted to have a chat about some kids in the neighborhood who had been causing a ruckus on their skateboards. Hattie didn’t care.
Banging open the back door, Hattie yelled, “Tucker! Tucker, are you here?”
Hattie waited a few more seconds. She yelled again. Then she ran to the backyard. It was a nice enough day. The sun was shining, and it was starting to feel like spring.
“Tucker!” Hattie called in a tense whisper. She didn’t need her neighbors hearing her call the name of the dead man. Hattie waited and was about to go back inside when she saw the priest watching her from his side of the clearing.
“Do you need something, Fr. McNally?” Hattie called out, walking towards him. He shook his head no and quickly turned and walked the distance back to one of the parish buildings.
“He keeps coming to look at the spot,” Tucker explained, appearing behind Hattie.
Hattie jumped not from fear but because he startled her. She turned to face him. “You’re here. We need to talk, but inside so I don’t look like I’m out here like some crazy person talking to myself.”
Tucker followed her inside. Hattie sat at her kitchen table. It was then she noticed that Tucker looked different. The blood was gone from his face and the bullet hole was no longer apparent in his forehead. He also had different clothes on. Gone was the suit and tie. Tucker was now wearing a comfortable looking navy-blue sweater and jeans with simple loafers on his feet.
Hattie must have looked confused, because Tucker explained, “Apparently once you get adjusted on this side, you can change up how you appear. The longer I’m here, the more I learn. While I can’t really feel my clothes, this just seems more comfortable. It’s a mental thing. And who wants blood dripping down their face for eternity?”
The explanation seemed plausible to Hattie, but she didn’t care about that right now. She said, “You said Fr. McNally is out there a lot. What is he doing?”
Tucker’s ghostly form paced back and forth in her kitchen. He went to the window and looked out to the backyard. “I don’t know. The priest just goes to the spot and looks around, almost as if he’s looking for something. At first, I thought maybe he went to pray, but he wasn’t praying. He’s searching, but for what I don’t know. I assume he hasn’t found it, he keeps going back.”
“Did you hear me calling for you?”
“That’s why I came. Did you find out who killed me?” Tucker asked curiously.
“I had a woman named Roxy come to my shop today. Ring any bells?”
Tucker seemed lost in thought. Hattie wasn’t sure if he was really searching his memory for her or if he was trying to concoct a lie. Finally, Tucker said excitedly, “I remember. I had an affair with her. I broke it off before I died.” He stopped talking and seemed to think some more.
“Time is funny over here,” Tucker added wistfully, “you don’t really have a sense of it. Thinking about your life, time is hard, too. I’m not sure when I ended it with Roxy, but it was days or weeks before I died. Why did she come see you?”
“She told me she thinks she knows who killed you, or at least what your death might be connected to.”
Tucker interrupted. “Roxy’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t exactly spending time with her for the intellectual stimulation.”
Hattie held her hand up. “I get the picture. Hear me out. Roxy said that you had been looking into the Catholic parish. She said you had suspicions about the priest. Roxy seemed to think this was what got you killed.”
Tucker moved back from Hattie with an unsure look on his face. He looked right and left as if trying to knock something loose in his brain. Tucker said with skepticism in his voice, “I sort of remember something like that, but the details are fuzzy. Why would I ever tell Roxy something that important?”
“She seemed pretty broken up about your death. Maybe you’re not remembering how close you were to her?”
“Hattie, my dear,” Tucker stated condescendingly. “I had affairs. A woman here or there to keep my life interesting. I don’t remember confiding in any of them. If I told Roxy something, I had a very specific reason. I either wanted information I thought she had or I was using her for something.”
“That’s fair, but she did know things. Can’t you remember any more detail?” Hattie got up and made some tea. She felt bad for Tucker. Beau had been like this when he first crossed over. He had trouble remembering the details of his life. There were some memories that were crystal clear and others that seemed lost for eternity. There was no rhyme or reason to how the information came to him. It definitely didn’t come in order of importance. Eventually, Beau’s memory came back.
Tucker seemed lost in thought as Hattie brought her tea back to the table. After a time, he got a knowing look on his face. Tucker said excited, “I remember. I saw the priest one night, hanging around Murray Park. I was coming back from fishing. I waited around. Eventually, some other guy showed up. Fr. McNally handed the guy money and took something in a suitcase from him. I got suspicious after that. I remember I found out some things about him that weren’t adding up, but I can’t remember what that was now.”
Tucker looked out the window and turned back to Hattie and added sadly, “I don’t think I ever fully figured it out. Do you really think that’s what got me killed?”
“I have no idea, but hopefully we can help you find out.”
Hattie stood from the table abruptly and looked out the side window that overlooked the driveway. Turning back to Tucker, she said with urgency, “You should go. Harper is back. They went to meet with Lizzie.” Hattie regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out of her mouth.
“If that’s the case, I’m not going anywhere,” Tucker said defiantly.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hattie pleaded with Tucker to leave, promising him she’d tell him everything later, but he wouldn’t budge. In fact, he only got closer. Tucker planted his ghostly body right next to Hattie at the kitchen table, which is where Jackson and Harper found her when they entered the kitchen.
“I think we got some leads,” Harper offered as they came in. Jackson sat at the table across from Hattie while Harper pulled out some sweet tea from the fridge. She poured Jackson a glass and handed it to him. Harper sipped hers, leaning against the counter looking at the table.
Hattie tried to smile, but her hands were shaking. At least she knew now that Harper couldn’t see Tucker. With a shaky voice, Hattie asked, “You said you got some leads. What looks promising?”
“We weren’t there that long and Lizzie basically gave us her entire suspect list, which is in-line with what we thought with a few added surprises,” Jackson offered, taking a sip of tea.
Jackson put the glass down and clasped his hands in front of him on the table. “She suspected a mistress named Roxy and the priest. She also let it slip that she had no idea where Drew was that night. Lizzie said he was up to no good.”
Then Jackson looked to Harper with a smug smile and added, “Lizzie also said we should look into Dan Barnes.”
“What could Dan…” Hattie started to speak, but she was interrupted. She looked sharply to her side as she heard Tucker speak loudly.
Tucker slapped what would have been his knee and exclaimed, “I should have known Drew would have done me in! He never liked me. I was putting a stop to him
sponging off our money.”
Harper and Jackson were looking strangely at Hattie. Harper asked, “You okay? You started to ask what Dan could have had to do with this, but then you stopped.”
Flustered, Hattie tried to regain her composure. She never had to do this before, talk to the dead and living at the same time. It was maddening. “I lost my train of thought, sorry,” Hattie faked. “Hearing about Dan is surprising. The rest of the list makes perfect sense. Roxy paid me a visit today.”
Harper’s face registered surprise. “What did she want?”
“Probably money,” Tucker chimed in.
Hattie did her best to ignore him. She had just told him why Roxy was there. “Roxy said she had some information about who might have killed Tucker. She thinks it’s the parish, well the priest. Apparently, Tucker was looking into some suspicious activity of Fr. McNally.”
Hattie spent the next few minutes updating Jackson and Harper on everything she had learned, including what Tucker remembered, leaving out how exactly she had gleaned that information.
“We are definitely going to have to follow up on that,” Jackson said, looking over at Harper.
“Without question,” Harper readily agreed. “I also think we need to follow up on the others as well. I’m going to do some research on Drew’s background and his connections.”
“He didn’t know anyone but criminals,” Tucker offered, waving a hand at Hattie who was still ignoring him.
Hattie finally looked at him, with a frustrated look on her face.
“What? I can save them some time,” Tucker added.
Hattie quickly looked back at Harper, who was looking at her aunt with curiosity and also concern. “You sure you’re all right?”
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