Uncharted Territory (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 3)

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  She jumped up and down. "This is so cool. We're like paranormal private investigators."

  "Oh geez."

  ***

  We got to the Starks' neighborhood in forty-five minutes. I pulled onto the street that ran parallel to theirs and parked on the side of the road. I'd summoned my mother on the drive and chatted with her to avoid talking about Mel's pending date with Aaron. I knew we'd have to talk about it soon but I wanted to let it sink in first.

  Ma and Mel were busting at the seams. Both wanted to jump out of the car and pound on the Starks' door. I sat glued to my seat, running through every possible scenario, all of which ended with us in trouble.

  "How much cash do you have readily available?" I asked Mel.

  "Uh, why?"

  "I'm pretty sure I can cover bail for one of us, so you're probably SOL."

  "Don'tcha worry," Ma said. "You get arrested, I'll break ya outta the slammer."

  "That's a great idea, Ma."

  "What'd she say?" Mel asked.

  "She'll break us out if we get arrested."

  "I love your mother."

  "You've mentioned that before."

  "We're not gonna get arrested anyway," she said. "We're not committing any crime. Just asking a family about their daughter and hoping we can help them."

  "We need a plan."

  "Whadda ya need a plan for?" Ma asked. "All's you gotta do is walk up to the door, ring that bell, and start talkin'. Sounds like a plan, you ask me."

  "We can't just walk up there and ring the bell, Ma. What if they answer?"

  "Isn't that the whole idea?" she asked.

  "Well, yeah, but what happens next? I tell them who I am and that I've seen their daughter and I think she's still alive?"

  Both Ma and Mel nodded.

  "I'm gonna end up in jail." I leaned my head onto the steering wheel. "This wasn't a good idea. We should leave."

  "All we have to do is make up some kind of story about why we're interested in their daughter, ask a few questions and then go. You don't have to say a thing about seeing dead people."

  "I like my idea better."

  "You didn't have an idea."

  "Yeah, I did. I said we should leave. That's my idea." I turned the key in the ignition but before I could put it into drive, it shut off. "Ma, stop it." I tried again and it shut off again. "Mother." I tried one more time but the keys flew out of the ignition and into the backseat. "Seriously?"

  Mel's mouth dropped. "Hey, that's pretty cool."

  I smacked her on the leg. "You're supposed to be on my side."

  "Fear not what you can see—only what you cannot."

  "Traitor."

  "I'm good with that."

  "Seriously, we can't just knock on these people's door and start talking about their daughter when we really don't know anything. We need another plan, and a good one," I said.

  "You're right," Mel said.

  "Ah Madone, hold on," Ma said. "Lemme go and check things out and maybe I can come up with something." She shimmered out.

  "Ma's going to scout the house."

  "Good idea. Maybe she'll find out something and we won't have to approach them after all."

  "Probably best."

  While we waited for my mother to return, Mel studied the neighborhood, pointing out the similarities between the houses from the style of brick to the elevations. "This is a boring neighborhood. At least ours have some variety."

  "I guess." I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and sang the chorus to "Who Are You" by The Who.

  Mel sang along.

  I strummed my air guitar, jamming to the chorus while Mel beat her invisible drums. Neither of us played a real instrument but our talent with the imaginary ones was stellar.

  "You two won't be doin' no shows in the afterlife, that's for sure," Ma said, popping back into the backseat.

  I dropped my air guitar. "Did you get anything?"

  Mel kept up her performance, eyes closed and ponytail flipping around in circles as she jammed. "Well, who the hell are you? Are you? Who? Who? Who? Who?"

  "Mel."

  "Aw tell me who are you?"

  "Mel. She's back."

  She stopped, dropped her imaginary drumsticks, and tightened her ponytail. "Oh, sorry."

  We both angled our bodies toward the backseat. "So what'd you find out?" I asked.

  "You're off the hook, I found that much out."

  "What's that mean?" I asked.

  "No one's home. Looks like they've been gone a few days, too."

  I exhaled a breath of relief, and told Mel. "They're not home."

  "Oh, got it," Mel said.

  "Thinks they've been gone a few days, too."

  "Who goes outta town when their kid's missing?" Mel asked.

  "It's been a long time. Maybe they're trying to get on with their lives."

  "Why does she think they've been gone a few days?"

  "Well?"

  "The milk's expired."

  "You checked their milk expiration date?"

  "Why not? If the milk ain't good and it's still in the 'fridge you either got a lazy woman who don't grocery shop much or they're outta town. Take your pick."

  She had a point. "Good observation."

  "That's why I'm the celestial super sleuth."

  "What'd she say?" Mel asked.

  I filled her in.

  "They're definitely out of town. No woman lets expired milk ferment in the 'fridge.

  I agreed. "So did you snoop around? Find anything that might help us?"

  "You betcha. Looks like the girl's room is still intact."

  "That's sad." I gave Mel the details.

  "I wonder if we can get in there. Like through a window or something?" Mel asked.

  "There's no reason for us to go in there."

  "Don't need to be unlocked," Ma said. "All's it takes is a little focus and I can unlock any door for you."

  "You going in is one thing but if Mel and I do it, that's called trespassing and I don't think it matters if you unlock the door or not."

  Mel's eyes widened. "We're so going in there."

  "I really don't think we should."

  "What if we find something that can help locate Tiffany?"

  "If there's something in that house that could help find Tiffany, don't you think the police already have it?"

  "Not when they don't know what they're looking for," Mel said. "They don't know the Caroline connection, so if there's something in that house that could connect whoever Caroline is to Tiffany, then we have an obligation to check."

  Mel had convinced herself that breaking into the Starks' home was in their best interests but I knew better.

  "And then whadda we do? Take it to the Peachtree Crossings police and tell them about it? And when they ask how we found it, we can tell them a ghost let us into the house and oh yeah, I can see Tiffany, too? Best idea ever. Not."

  "Five minutes, Angela, that's all we need. We go in, make a quick sweep of the house and then we're outta there. If we find something then we'll figure out what to do about it."

  "In and out in five minutes."

  She crossed her finger over her heart. "Promise."

  "Ma?"

  "Time's different in the afterlife. Besides, I won't get caught."

  I couldn't argue with that.

  We decided Ma would unlock the door on the deck and we'd sneak through the yard behind theirs. We stayed in the car waiting for Ma to give us the go ahead.

  "Luckily it's daylight," Mel said.

  "It'd be easier to do this in the dark. Less chance of getting caught."

  "Caught by a human yes but more chance of getting skunked."

  "You had to go there, didn't you?"

  A few months back Mel and I did a little late night snooping at Nick's girlfriend's. When a neighbor flipped on a back porch light we got spooked and took off running. I had a minor altercation with a skunk that left me stinking to high heaven and the skunk with a shoe print embedded
into its back.

  Mel leaned in and took of whiff of my neck. "I think I can still smell it."

  "I'm so making my mother haunt you."

  "Speaking of your mother, shouldn't she be back by now?"

  "Yeah, she should. Let's head that way. Maybe she got distracted."

  "Wouldn't be the first time."

  We made our way down the street. I watched the numbers on the mailboxes until one matched the Starks'. Builders weren't rocket scientists. Each street had the same numbers, just a different street name. "That's it," I said, pointing to the back of a three-story house with a big deck.

  "Are you sure?" Mel asked. "I can't tell without seeing the front."

  I tapped the mailbox. "Same address as theirs. Plus, my mother is floating above the deck screaming at me."

  Mel giggled. "Dare I ask what she's yelling?"

  "Get your butts movin’. I ain't got all day."

  "I love your mother."

  "Shocker."

  "Bawk! Bawk! Getta move on!" Ma yelled.

  Mel pulled her notepad and pencil from her purse. "We'll act like we're supposed to be here."

  "Don't do anything that'll draw attention."

  "I won't. Now come on."

  We headed down the side of the neighbor's house to the Starks' deck while I pointed at trees and shrubs and she scribbled on the pad. We climbed the deck stairs like we belonged there and then casually entered the house. My heart pounded at rocket speed.

  The smell hit us like a brick the second we got inside.

  "Oh my God. What the hell is that?" Mel asked.

  I held my shirt over my mouth and nose. "I don't know but oh my God, it's horrible."

  "What smell?" Ma asked. "I don't smell nothin'."

  "It smells like road kill," I said, my hand still covering my mouth. "Come on, let's get this done and get outta here." I made my way toward the family room, breathing as little as possible. "See that?" I asked, pointing to an electronic pet food dispenser on the kitchen floor. "I need one of those for Gracie. You fill it up and it automatically feeds your pet."

  "This place smells so bad I doubt even an animal has an appetite," Mel said.

  "Oh God. What if that's what we smell? A dead pet?"

  "Who leaves and doesn't put their pet in a kennel or at least have someone watch over it?"

  "Dogs definitely need to be taken care of but cats are pretty independent so I think people can leave them for a few days at a time."

  "God I think I'm gonna be sick," Mel said.

  "This was your idea, so suck it up, partner. Let's hit upstairs first. Maybe the smell is less up there."

  "What're we trying to find, exactly? Besides a dead animal?"

  "Something the cops didn't find, remember?"

  "That's the girl's room," Ma said, pointing to a room to the right of the top of the stairs.

  The smell got stronger as we climbed the stairs. "Oh God, it's worse up here. I feel like I'm gonna barf now, too."

  "Better you than me," Ma said. "I barfed my brains out from the cancer. Glad I don't got to go through that anymore."

  I bunched most of my shirt up into a ball and covered my mouth and nose with it, not caring about exposing my tummy and the bottom half of my bra. "That was awful to watch."

  "Wasn't anything you could do 'bout it. You cleaned me up and took care of me and that's what mattered."

  I'd felt helpless the whole time my mother was sick. "I wish I could have done more, could have been a better caretaker or something, even a better daughter."

  "Ah Madone, you were a great daughter. Stop bein' so hard on yourself. I had the big c and I was ready to go. I even told you that remember?"

  "Yet you're with me all the time."

  "That's 'cause you gotta lotta problems and still need me."

  "Oh my God," Mel screamed. She'd made it to Tiffany's room already. "Come quick."

  I rushed down the hallway. Mel stood frozen, her hand pointing to the queen-sized bed pushed up against the wall. "Over there. You were right."

  Lying on the bed was a dead cat.

  "I'm gonna be sick." Mel ran from the doorway, gagging.

  "Oh, I guess I missed that," Ma said. She floated over to the bed. "Looks like it was pretty old and just died in its sleep. Poor thing. Probably won't smell much longer 'cause them maggots will eat it up good."

  "How long have these people been gone? That poor cat." I held my breath for fear I'd swallow the stench and that would put my weak stomach over the edge it already teetered on.

  "Beats me," Ma said. "But I think the cat's gonna be okay." She flicked her head to the other side of the room. The spirit of the cat floated an inch above the windowsill and stared into the yard.

  "Aw, poor thing. Probably waiting for its family."

  Mel stood across the hall. "I checked the rest of the rooms up here. Just a master, an office, and a boy's room. Didn't see anything important in any of them. Let's get outta here."

  "She had a brother. Just like my kids." I tightened my grip on my shirt, smothered it against my face, and forced myself into Tiffany's room. The foul smell singed my eyes and the half dozen vanilla scones I'd eaten earlier threatened to come back up, full throttle.

  "Hurry up already," Mel said.

  "Hold on, I'm goin' as fast as I can."

  Tiffany's room resembled Emily's at that age. Pink walls, girly posters with kittens and puppies, and a framed collage of words cut from magazines. Three picture frames sat on a desk. None had any photos but they all had the bubbly writing of a young girl across the bottom. I picked up the one with Caroline and Tiffany written across it.

  "Hurry," Mel said.

  "Hold on. I'm almost done." I stuffed the frame into the top of my pants and gave the rest of the room a quick once over. "Where are you?" I called out to Mel.

  "In here," she said. What followed was something between a moan and a cry trailed by feet pounding on the floor.

  I rushed out. "What's going on?" I asked my mother.

  She snickered. "Thadda way." She pointed down the hall. "She's in the shitter."

  Oh boy.

  I sprinted to the bathroom just in time to see Mel bowing to the porcelain God, yellow vomit gushing from her. It hit the toilet with a splash and whipped back up, landing in her hair and all over her face. "Well isn't this a Kodak moment?"

  Without skipping a vomitus beat, she raised her hand and flipped me the bird. A chunky yellow piece of God knows what flicked from her finger and that was it.

  My mouth filled with something metallic tasting. I tried to swallow but the vanilla scones came charging up my throat. I clamped my jaw shut and cupped my hand over my mouth. My stomach flipped and lurched as the now liquid scones pushed their way out. I had two choices, projectile vomit on the Starks' bathroom floor or knock Mel to the side and splatter it into the bathtub. I pushed past Mel, knocking her head onto the toilet seat in the process but I didn't make it to the tub. The scones forced themselves out and the entire contents of my stomach sprayed the side of the tub, splattering it across the walls and onto the floor. "Oh my God." I was pretty sure some of it landed on Mel, too. I coughed and retched and tossed my cookies like a bride who'd downed too many shots at her bachelorette party.

  The puke fest ended in minutes but it felt like hours. Exhausted, we leaned against the bathroom wall, foreheads dotted with sweat, stomachs weak but empty.

  Ma hovered in the doorway, laughing so hard she snorted. "Ah Madone, that's the best thing I've seen since I kicked the bucket."

  We both gave her the finger, which made her snort again.

  The bathroom was trashed, like it'd been defiled by a group of kids who'd stolen their parents' liquor and partied until they puked. Scone remnants dotted the floor and walls. The shower curtain lay in the tub, drenched in vomit, courtesy of yours truly. The toilet was clogged and filled to the rim, puke dripping over the sides of the bowl.

  "Oh my God. What're we gonna do?" Mel asked.

  Ma sn
orted again.

  "We gotta clean this up," I said.

  Mel pushed herself up, grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped her face. "Oh no, I can't. I'll just retch all over again. I gotta get outta here."

  Ma snorted again.

  "It's not funny, Ma."

  "Sure it is. Reminds me of the time when you drank all that Peppermint Schnapps. I had to hold your head up the whole time you barfed 'cause you kept hittin' it on the toilet seat. I thought you were gonna give yourself a concussion."

  "Let's get outta here," Mel said.

  "We can't leave this," I said. I crawled over to the counter and opened the cabinet. I tossed Mel a towel. "The least we can do is wipe the floor and stuff." I wet the towel and dropped it on the floor, using my foot to move it back and forth.

  The combination of dead cat and double vomit nudged my gag reflex to perform an encore, and no matter how much I hated to leave the mess, I knew if I didn't get out of there, the mess would be worse.

  "Come on. They're gonna be so grossed out from the dead cat they probably won't even notice the puke anyway. Let's go," Mel said.

  "You're probably right." I bolted out of the bathroom and down the hall with Mel trailing behind. She passed me going down the stairs, where I'd stopped dead in my tracks.

  Mel twirled backwards, "Get a move on, woman."

  "Tiffany." I pointed to the fireplace in the family room. "There."

  Mel froze. "She's here?"

  I nodded. "Tiffany," I said to the girl in the white gown. "That's your name, right?"

  She grinned. "Yes."

  Ma floated by my side. "Well why didn't you tell us that before?"

  "Do you remember?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  Gold flecks emanated from her. When she smiled, it hit me that she hadn't jerked or flickered once. "Oh no, Tiffany. No."

  The cat floated down the stairs and jumped into the girl's arms, purring softly.

  "What?" Mel asked, her shirt covering her mouth.

  "Crap," Ma said.

  "It's too late." I rubbed my eyes with the balls of my fingers. "I didn't make it."

  Tiffany gazed at the ceiling. "It's beautiful."

  "No, Tiffany. Please, not yet. Please. Tell me where you are so we can find you for your parents. Please."

  She peered straight in my eyes. "You know where I am. I'm near the angel, with Caroline," she said, and then she shimmered away.