A Dash of Murder (Pecan Bayou Series)

by Teresa Trent

  “Oooh, I like that fellow, Betsy,” Aunt Maggie whispered. Somehow, after all that happened between us, I liked him, too.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The sun finally set, and we worked by the many flashlights we carried around. It was pretty exciting to be actually filming a television program. The ladies from the Best Little Hair House all piled out of Ruby Green’s double-cab pickup. Ruby and Anna had their hair freshly sprayed around their paranormal investigator hats. Ruby Green even had her black hair swirled up in the back with a little purple veil decorated with tiny bats. It gave the impression that there were bats flying around her head. I wasn’t sure if we were here to find ghosts or aliens, as they resembled a new race of large-headed people invading our planet. Lillian MacPhee had chosen not to embrace the outrageous hairstyle but still sported her paranormal investigator cap on her silver hair. The ladies all set up portable lawn chairs on the edge of the field, and Ruby brought out her cooler stocked with Lone Star beer and margaritas. Maggie promised Howard the celebration would stay at a whisper.

  “This is a paranormal investigation, not ladies’ night at the bowling alley, Maggie.”

  “I know,” Maggie answered, seeing the cameraman dip in the cooler for a beer. She turned to me, blocking Howard’s view.

  “Betsy,” Maggie said, now holding Howard’s clipboard. “Are you all set to go down the dead tunnel with me in about an hour’s time?”

  “Oh Aunt Maggie, maybe Miss Lillian or Miss Ruby would like to go instead.” The ladies perked up at that, and Ruby even stood up and adjusted her bat veil, ready for duty. That was fine by me. My mind flashed on how dark it had been in the tunnel in the daytime.

  “Did they clear the bats out?”

  “They didn’t have to. There’s a hole in the roof they’re flyin’ in and out of. Remember, bats are nocturnal, so they’re all out huntin’ right now. They were pretty harmless, after all.”

  I remembered pulling one out of my hair, thinking of a scene from the Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds.”

  “Harmless, huh?”

  “Sure, you can do it.”

  Lillian MacPhee giggled. “Oh, this is so exciting! I don’t admit this to a lot of people, but I’ve watched all the ghost hunting shows they’ve been showing on TV this week in celebration of Halloween. It really is fascinating.” Seeing her here with Ruby and Anna, Lillian looked much more comfortable than she had been at the council meeting.

  Ruby chortled, “Me too!”

  Anna hooted, “Me three!”

  “Well then I guess that makes you three ladies official members of our little society,” Maggie said.

  “Aunt Maggie, as one of the founding members, what do you say we send the newbies down the tunnel? It could be an initiation into the group.”

  Maggie sighed. “You’ll be fine, Betsy. I’m goin’ down that tunnel, and the only person I want with me is you.”

  I was touched by her preference for me but still didn’t want to go.

  Howard was now standing in the main entrance, motioning to me. The cameras were pointing at him, and I was pretty sure they were turned on. Why would he want to talk to me with the cameras on? I don’t think I remember Aunt Maggie telling me anything about this.

  “Go over there, darlin,’” Maggie nudged.

  “Me? Why?” I asked, straightening my hair and wondering if I had pulled all the cobwebs out after chasing my intruder down the dusty hallways of the old hospital.

  “I don’t know what Howard wants, but he needs you on camera, so go, my dear.” I trudged over, feeling like an awkward teenager.

  “And this evening, we have our resident author and newspaper columnist, ‘The Happy Hinter’ herself, Betsy Livingston, joining us in the investigation.”

  I feebly smiled and raised my hand to wave at the camera. Somehow I had achieved “resident celebrity” status.

  “What piqued your interest in the paranormal, Betsy?” Howard asked as he handed me the microphone.

  “Um, what piqued my interest?” I certainly couldn’t tell the truth, that I actually don’t have an interest in the paranormal and wasn’t even sure if I believed all this hooey. “Well … I … guess it runs in the family.”

  “And that’s just wonderful! Betsy is referring to Maggie Schaeffer, one of our esteemed investigators and her aunt.” Howard then nodded toward the building, his grin ever present. “Why don’t you go on into the hospital, Betsy, and we’ll catch up with you inside.” He smiled as his hair picked up a little in the wind. I looked up and saw clouds gathering, covering the moon above us. What else on Halloween? I felt my face muscles start to ache as I forced out one more amicable countenance and waved again.

  “Okay Howard, can’t wait to see you in there.” Boy, did I mean that. I walked into the now-darkened hospital and immediately over to a small lantern someone had thoughtfully placed inside the door. Once out of the range of the camera, I peered back out through the window. I could see Maggie now being introduced, as she gestured back towards me. The light illuminated the doorways, making them look totally different than how they had appeared earlier in the day. I could see the main area and then the six hallways breaking off from them. They had been labeled “A” through “G,” and I mentally found Hallway C, which led to the creepy, bat-infested dead tunnel, which led to the morgue. Why couldn’t I get the “outside walking” investigation, or better yet, why couldn’t I just wait in the van, watching the television transmissions for specters? I heard a chair scrape up on the second floor. I was pretty sure it was George upstairs guarding the crime scene. I heard a faint cough.

  “George, are you up there?” I shouted up the stairway to my left.

  No answer. “George, are you up there?”

  He probably couldn’t hear me if he was sitting inside the room.

  Maggie showed up at the door. “Ooh-wee, Betsy. This is fun. Once we get all the folks in here we’ll sneak back out until it’s our time to investigate.”

  I looked out to see Howard speaking to the ladies of the Hair House. It was gracious of them to put down their alcoholic beverages before going on camera. Howard looked as if he was launching into one of his lectures on the history of the hospital. I turned around to see my Aunt Maggie with her head turned upward, scanning the open area of the ground floor.

  “There is something here, Betsy. I can feel it. Do you feel the vibrations?”

  I loved my aunt, even in moments like this. Some people see an old dilapidated building, but Maggie saw the history, the toil and the people. She had an open mind and an open heart, and she wasn’t afraid to take risks.

  At the sound of footsteps, I turned around expecting to see the ladies coming through the door, but instead, Danny nearly knocked me over. He was breathing heavily.

  “Betsy, Mama … Mr. Leo sent me over here. He wants to know if you’ve seen Tyler or Zach.” He put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

  “No,” I answered. “I thought they were over there with you.”

  He looked towards his feet, still trying to regulate his breathing. “I wasn’t a good helper.”

  Maggie put her arm around her son. “Sure you were. What happened?”

  “Mr. Leo told me to go get them – Zach and that Tyler boy – to help pull logs around for seats at the roaring fire. I went to their tent, but they weren’t there. I lost them.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe they were in another tent with some of the other Scouts? Maybe they went out in the woods to use the restroom?” I said.

  “No, I looked in all the tents, and Zach and that Tyler boy weren’t there. They weren’t anywhere, and it’s all my fault.”

  “Well, that wasn’t your fault.”

  “I lost Zach.” His eyes, illuminated by the shadows of the lantern, seemed to be framed by the jutting of his cheekbones. He ran his hands through his straight, thin hair and started repeating, “It’s my fault. It’s my fault.”

  “Do you want to be a good helper now?” Maggie cut in
. “Go look and see if Uncle Judd’s police car is out there and tell him Zach and Tyler are lost and that we need to all search for them. Tell Mr. Leo we will start looking for the boys over here. Okay?”

  “Okay.” he answered.

  “Repeat it for me,” said Maggie.

  “Go find Uncle Judd. Go tell Mr. Leo,” He echoed the phrase as he ran out the door, nearly knocking over Ruby and company as they entered, tittering about their onscreen interviews.

  “Sorry, Miss Ruby,” he shouted as he ran down the stairway to the outdoors.

  “Ladies, we have two boys missing,” Aunt Maggie said in her no-nonsense voice. The ladies gasped. Aunt Maggie started informing her posse as to details and search patterns.

  “Where would they have gone to, Betsy?” Maggie asked.

  I kicked at a stray piece of paper as I opened my cell phone to call my dad. “I don’t know. I don’t know whether to be mad or worried.”

  “First find them and then decide, darlin’.”

  I agreed and then listened to my dad’s voice mail click on.

  Within a few minutes, Leo Fitzpatrick showed up, looking as if he had run the entire way. I had noticed there was now a slight breeze, and I could hear some rumbling in the distance. I glanced out the window. A patch of clouds drifted across a full moon. I could smell the moisture in the air of what might turn into a cooling rain. Maggie had deputized the Hair House ladies and assigned them each a hallway on the main floor, taking one herself. They walked through the hospital, bouffant hair bobbing, calling out the boys’ names.

  “I left Danny in charge with all the Scouts sitting around the fire. Benny’s sons were helping out, too. They were going to sing camp songs to keep them busy,” said Fitzpatrick.

  “Good,” my father said as he stepped through the doorway. “I hope they know a lot of them.”

  I felt relief flooding through me. He had gotten my voice mail. He took off his Stetson and ambled over to me.

  Leo continued, “ Betsy, do you think the boys might have come over here?”

  “I don’t know what for.” I felt my insides freezing up. Would I lose Zach as well as Barry? Here one day, gone the next? Had the fates actually planned a giant zinger my way once more? The panic set in, and I could barely hear for the blood rushing inside my head.

  Fitzpatrick shrugged. “The boys seemed to be getting along really well. I think they were talking about Tyler’s mom and Zach’s dad. Tyler even apologized about saying your husband was the dead body you found here.”

  Tyler was right. Canfield did link back to my missing husband. Finding him brought so many memories of Barry back. A thought thundered into my mind. My dad put his Stetson back on, and it seemed he had the same thought. I grabbed the lantern, and we both ran for the stairs. As the rest of the remaining group all clambered behind us, I saw a giant man standing at the top of the stairs holding a tiny deputy and a slightly chubby pirate by the collar.

  “Hey there, Judd, look who I found wanderin’ around our crime scene,” George Beckman’s high voice echoed across the empty lobby. Both boys wriggled out from his grasp and ran down the stairs.

  “What in the hell were you two doing up there?” My father stood with both his hands on his gun belt.

  “We were investigating,” Zach said matter-of-factly.

  “I think we are knee-deep in so-called investigators tonight, boy.”

  Tyler, who had been unusually subdued, spoke quietly to my dad. “We were looking for Zach’s dad.”

  We could still hear the Hair House ladies calling up and down the hallways. “Miss Ruby, Miss Lillian, Miss Anna, Miss Maggie, we found ‘em,” George yelled out, his voice echoing through the corridors.

  I went over to Zach and knelt down to come face-to-face with him. Fitzpatrick remained standing, his arms crossed and his attitude stern.

  “Why were you looking for Barry up there?” I asked, although I was already starting to understand my son’s motives.

  “Because … well … Tyler and I were talking about it and … and … well … maybe Dad was there. Maybe he and Mr. Canfield were still partners and working together.”

  I took his small hands in my own. “Listen to me. Your dad was not up there. We do not know where your dad is. We don’t know if he was the victim of a crime of any type, but we’re pretty sure he wasn’t. We believe that he … just left.” Zach looked down, trying shut out my last statement.

  “He just left,” I repeated. “He left the best little boy God ever made, and for that he has lost an incredible treasure – you. I’m sorry he’s not here with you tonight or tomorrow and a thousand tomorrows, but I am here, and I always will be.” Zach’s little arms encircled my neck, cast and all, in the kind of neck-breaking hug only a kid can give.

  “And I am too, sport,” my father whispered, now standing behind us joining into the embrace.

  “Are we in trouble?” asked Tyler.

  “Yes,” Fitzpatrick answered. Tyler started to get his now familiar scowl. His uncle continued, “But … I guess you had your reasons.” Tyler’s shock registered, and then he ran down the remaining stairs to Leo.

  “It was real scary up there, Uncle Leo. I’m glad you found us.”

  “I know,” he said as he tousled his nephew’s hair affectionately. “I’m glad I found you, too.”

  Somehow I felt he was not just talking about the crime scene incident.

  A light started sneaking in from around the corner, and I realized the film crew was now moving with Howard into the hospital.

  “And now we enter the fabled Johnson Tuberculosis Hospital.” Howard came around the corner with portable lights held up by the crew trailing him. His voice reminded me of a late-show announcer on the creature feature movie. His back was to us as he walked facing the camera. “Be on the lookout for apparitions, black shadows lingering in a room and poltergeists.”

  “Boo!” squeaked George Beckman at the top of the stairs. Howard jumped, emitting a scream as he ran back out the door. The whole gathered group gathered at the stairs exploded in laughter.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  An hour later, as we watched Howard on the television monitor, all of the emotions of the afternoon seemed to be haunting me. Leo really wasn’t a dad, but he was a decent enough brother to come to town to fight for his sister. Tyler wasn’t his son, after all. It was a lot to take in about him. The fact that he was single and not one of the many walking wounded of the relationship wars made him more appealing as well. For the first time in a long time, I started thinking of myself no longer in a one-person marriage with Barry, but as a single woman. I thought about those blue eyes peering into me, sharing his water on the back step of the hospital and the way he came to the aid of my own son. This could be a beginning and the kind of dream my life hadn’t had for me in a long while. Whose fault was that, really? I could have come out of my self-imposed fog years ago, but, like Miss Boyle, I was tortured by my trap.

  Stanley came over, pulling earphones from his ears. “Betsy, after Howard finishes this part, we’re moving on to the walk you and Maggie are taking next. I need you to stay here near the van until we’re ready for you.”

  “Okay,” I answered. I looked around for Maggie. She had been passing out cups of coffee about a half-hour ago. We had returned the boys to the campsite and had finally settled down to some ghost hunting. I walked over to the van area, where I joined the Hair House Ladies but refrained from the contents of their cooler. I sat down on the grass and leaned up against the wheel of the van.

  I yawned as the long day was beginning to catch up with me. I now knew who one of the people on Canfield’s calendar was. I also knew he met up with Fitzpatrick but still didn’t know who Roy was. I searched my memory trying to single out anyone with that name in this town. It reminded me of old cowboy movies. And then there was the question of the concrete. Why did Canfield have fresh concrete on him? Had he just put in a sidewalk? Had he just buried someone and put a concrete slab on the top? Why,
of all places was he stuffed into a hole in the wall and left there? Who would know that such a thing existed?

  Stanley walked back over and sat down on the ground next to me. He bumped back his baseball cap, going for the “Ron Howard on a big film shoot” look. “So Betsy, I’ve been reading your Happy Hinter column in the paper every week. Very helpful stuff.”

  Oh, maybe someone else was going to hire me to do an efficiency evaluation. Looked like my Christmas fund was about to get a boost.

  “I was wondering if you would be interested in doing a little fifteen-minute segment each week giving helpful hints to our viewers?”

  “Really?” I wasn’t expecting that. I had spent the last seven years avoiding the community at large, and now they wanted me in each and every living room once a week? That was wild.

  “Uh, I don’t know Stanley. I’m … uh … pretty busy with keeping up with my columns.” I stalled. I wasn’t quite sure how comfortable I was with the idea of being on television, even if it was cable access, which meant the viewing numbers were somewhat smaller than the local Elks meeting. “Let me think about it.”

  “Sure. I understand. You probably don’t know this about me, but I read all your columns.” He smiled, a little embarrassed. “I’m a bit of a homebody at heart. Great hint about separating egg whites from yolks only when they’re very cold, by the way. I finally made the perfect meringue.”

  “That’s good to hear. Did you stay away from mixing it in a plastic bowl?”

  Stanley saluted, tapping his ball cap. “Metal or glass, just like you said.”

  “Glad I could be of help,” I answered. It might not be all that terrible being on NUTV, I thought. “I’ll let you know.” I was getting stiff from sitting on the ground and stood up to stretch. “Let me go find Maggie. I think I saw her go around the corner. I know she won’t want to miss this.”

  I walked off into the darkness, clicking on my flashlight as I thought about Stanley’s request. Could I actually fill up fifteen minutes of airtime once a week? It would mean more income for me and Zach, but it would also mean having to get out of my pajamas and show up somewhere every week. So much to think about. I looked around the back of the NUTV van but didn’t see her. Maybe she went back to the car to get something. I walked through the overgrown grass trying not to think of all the creatures who crawl out at night. She could have also been catching a little catnap. She wasn’t exactly a spring chicken, and we were way past her bedtime.