Grave Missteps

by Lily Harper Hart

  “She’s also the one who is responsible for putting Todd Winthrop behind bars,” Patty supplied, her expression unreadable. “His trial is coming up soon, in fact. She was on the news report I saw the other day. That’s why I recognized her.”

  Christy swallowed hard, searching the woman’s face for clues. “Did you know Todd?”

  Patty bobbed her head. “I did.”

  “I did, too,” Christy acknowledged. “We went to high school together. He tried to kill Maddie that night at the lake. Whatever he says, however he denies it, she almost died.”

  Patty blinked several times, her expression immovable. “Are you under the impression that I’m standing up for Todd?”

  Christy held her hands palms out and shrugged. “I don’t know. Todd was known for charming people. Maddie barely survived that night, though, so I don’t want to hear about how Todd has been framed or that other nonsense he’s been spouting.”

  “The world would be a better place if Todd didn’t survive that night,” Patty supplied. “Don’t worry. I’m not a fan. Well, I am, but I’m a fan of what she did. She stopped him from killing.”

  “She did,” Christy agreed.

  “She almost died in the process,” Patty added.

  “She did.” Christy’s memory went back to the night in question. “Nick was there. He swam out in the cold water. It should’ve killed both of them, but he refused to let her go. He actually performed CPR and got her back.”

  “And I thought he was hot before I heard this story,” Sharon muttered, eliciting a legitimate smile from Christy.

  “They’ve pretty much been inseparable from that moment on,” Christy said, smiling at the memory. “Well, actually, they fought it for a good two weeks after that, but everyone knew it was inevitable.”

  “Yes, well, inevitable or not, they did everyone in the area a great service by getting Todd off the street,” Patty said. “He went out with a friend of mine. He didn’t kill her or anything, which is a relief, but he was a jerk and thinking what he could’ve done to her sends chills down my spine.”

  “I think it does that for all of us,” Christy said. “Are you going to try and talk to the girl?”

  Patty nodded. “Yes. I want Maddie to stay in there, though. I think she’ll be a calming presence.”

  “Let’s do it,” Sharon said. “The faster we know who that girl is, the faster we’ll be able to figure out where she belongs.”

  “SHE DIDN’T DIE of smoke inhalation.” The assistant medical examiner, Jason Hamilton, munched on a sandwich as he related the details of Mildred Wilkins’ death to Nick and Kreskin. “She was strangled.”

  Nick scratched his cheek as he tried to keep his discomfort in check. It wasn’t the death that bothered him so much – or Mildred’s corpse on the gurney – but the fact that Hamilton could eat while standing over her that gave him pause. “Um … how do you know that?”

  “Her windpipe was crushed.” Hamilton talked with his mouth full of corned beef and Swiss. “That didn’t happen by accident. It also didn’t happen due to a fall.”

  “Hmm.” Kreskin and Nick exchanged a weighted look. “That means someone else was in the house,” Kreskin said finally. “Whoever it was must have started the fire.”

  “I see you guys are ahead of me,” Rob said, a folder in his hand as he strolled into the examination room. Nick noted that he purposely kept his gaze from Mildred’s body and instead focused on the three men standing close to the counter. His demeanor was calm and easy, but Nick knew Rob was uncomfortable being in the presence of death. “I was trying to track you down when I heard you were here.”

  “I don’t know whether to feel lucky or not.” Kreskin accepted the file Rob extended toward him. “What did you find?”

  “Whoever started the fire used an accelerant. In this case, it was simple gasoline. It was focused on a spot on the second floor, which is why the fire basically stayed up there. If it had been started on the first floor the house would’ve completely gone up in flames. That’s not what happened.”

  “So you’re saying that we’re not dealing with a professional,” Nick surmised.

  “I’m saying that we’re not dealing with a professional arsonist,” Rob clarified. “If our suspect was a pro, he would’ve known to start the fire on the first floor and let the flames rise to take out the second. Instead, he started it on the second floor and it didn’t have the energy to travel to the first floor so there’s a decent chance we might be able to track down some evidence. I have an inspector out there now taking samples.”

  “That’s good.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “So, Mildred was strangled and someone set the house on fire purposely. The question is, did he know that there was a young girl locked in the basement? I mean, the motive would seem to be revenge for something and taking the kid is revenge-worthy, but why go to all that trouble just to leave the kid behind?”

  “Maybe he didn’t realize the kid was on the premises,” Kreskin supplied. “Maybe he thought Mildred did something to her.”

  “You keep saying ‘he,’” Jason noted. “Couldn’t it be a female?”

  “Technically yes,” Nick replied. “However, the statistics on females committing crimes with fire are actually extremely low.”

  “He’s basically saying that men are attracted to fire more than women,” Kreskin explained. “Just like women are attracted to poison more than men. You can’t rule out that a woman did this, but odds are it was a man.”

  “I’m going to add to your odds,” Jason said. “Whoever killed Mildred had big hands. I don’t know a lot of women who have hands big enough to fit the bill.”

  “Fingerprints?” Nick asked.

  Jason shook his head. “Everything on the body was too rough because of the water. You should know she didn’t have smoke in her lungs. I think that means the fire was set after she was already dead.”

  “That makes sense,” Kreskin said. “Someone probably panicked after realizing she was dead and set the fire to cover up for the murder, even assumed the fire would engulf the whole house.”

  “That still doesn’t explain who the kid is or why she was locked in the basement,” Nick pointed out.

  “No, but I do want to show you what I found fused to her hand,” Jason said, placing his sandwich on the counter before moving down to a tray. “I thought this might interest you.” He held up a silver key. “It looks to me like it belongs to a padlock, the type that was described on the outside of the basement door you guys broke through.”

  Kreskin snagged the key and stared at it. “This looks right. We’ll have to test it to be sure, but I’m willing to bet this key opened the basement door.”

  “So what was she doing with it in her hand?” Jason asked. “Was she trying to help the kid or hurt her?”

  Nick pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “That is the question of the day, isn’t it?”

  PATTY HAD ONE OF THOSE faces that Maddie found instantly trustworthy. Even though she was determined to keep the girl safe and comfortable, Maddie found herself watching Patty for instructional tidbits as the sign language expert got comfortable in the observation room.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Patty said, her smile friendly but not overbearing as she met the girl’s leery expression. “I’m going to repeat everything I say to her and she says back to me out loud so you’ll be able to follow along. Since you’re more familiar with the situation regarding how she was found, don’t be afraid to interject a question if it pops up.”

  “Okay.” Maddie smiled encouragingly at the girl as Patty lifted her fingers and started signing. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

  Patty ignored the compliment and focused on the youngest person in the room. “What is your name?”

  The girl stared for a long beat. It was obvious she recognized what Patty was doing with her hands, but she didn’t seem keen to answer.

  “Go ahead,” Maddie prodded, staring into the girl’s suspicious
eyes. “I need something to call you.”

  The girl nodded finally and then responded with lightning-quick motions.

  “Her name is Angel,” Patty translated, her hands busy. “How old are you, Angel? That’s a beautiful name, by the way.”

  Maddie was awestruck as she watched. She wished she could communicate with the girl herself but was so thankful that someone was finally making progress that she refused to feel bitter.

  “She’s fifteen,” Patty supplied. “She’s small for fifteen.” She didn’t sign the second part, but Maddie could tell what she was thinking. “I’m going to ask what she was doing at the house. Hold on.”

  Maddie watched as Patty signed the question, keeping a strong arm around the girl’s shoulders as she stiffened and made a face. “I don’t think she likes that question.”

  “Definitely not,” Patty agreed, tilting her head when Angel jutted out her lower lip into a pronounced pout. “Hmm.” She started signing again. “Can you hear?”

  Angel opened her mouth and then closed it, tilting her head as she watched Patty’s fingers. Finally she nodded, causing Maddie to furrow her brow, and started signing furiously.

  “She’s not completely deaf,” Patty volunteered after a beat. “She can hear some things – more in her left ear than her right – but she learned sign language anyway because her mother was told there was a chance she would go completely deaf by the time she was ten. That didn’t happen, but she doesn’t hear well enough to be comfortable.”

  “Where is her mother?” Maddie automatically asked.

  “Hold on.” Patty watched Angel sign with great interest. “Huh. She says she was in the house because she was staying with her grandmother.”

  Maddie stilled, surprised. “Mildred?”

  Patty shrugged. “I’ll ask.” She signed for a few minutes, the conversation serious as she went back and forth with Angel. When she was done, Patty straightened. “She says Mildred was her grandmother and she was staying with her. I didn’t push too hard on the mother, but Angel doesn’t want to talk about her. She just says she’s not around and then kind of turns belligerent.”

  “I don’t ever remember seeing Mildred with a child,” Maddie noted. “At eighty, she’s about my grandmother’s age. I would think that means any child of hers would’ve been around my mother’s age. I guess that means her child could’ve moved and left the area before my mother arrived but … I don’t know.”

  “Well, Angel says Mildred was her grandmother,” Patty said. “She’s asking about her.”

  “Oh, well, she’s dead.” Maddie shifted to get more comfortable. “She died in the fire.”

  “Should I tell her?”

  “I think she already knows,” Maddie admitted. “She’s not stupid.”

  “Definitely not,” Patty agreed, her hands moving again. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your grandmother is dead. There was a fire at the house – I’m pretty sure you know that because you were there – and she died. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Angel blinked several times in rapid succession, but her hands remained still. Maddie didn’t like the girl’s disposition so she immediately tapped her shoulder to get her attention and pointed at her lips so Angel would know to focus.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you,” Maddie offered haltingly. “It’s sad and terrible, but you were locked in that basement. Do you know why?”

  Angel shook her head.

  “Was your grandmother mean to you?”

  Angel shook her head again, this time more vehemently. Then she started signing.

  “Not mean,” Patty translated. “Afraid. She was afraid that someone would find out I was there. I had to be really quiet and I couldn’t go outside. No one could know I was there. It was important that it stayed secret.”

  The admission caused Maddie’s stomach to tilt. Angel might not think her grandmother was mean, but Maddie wasn’t certain the girl fully understood the situation. “Well … we need more information to go on. Your grandmother is gone. Are you sure you don’t know what happened to your mother?”

  Angel shook her head so hard one of her braids smacked Maddie in the face.

  “What about your father?”

  For a brief moment, Maddie was convinced she saw something else in Angel’s eyes. It looked to be terror. She covered quickly, though.

  “She says she doesn’t have a father,” Patty volunteered.

  Maddie didn’t believe that for a second. She decided to let it go, though. “Well, then we’ll have to figure out a different way to search for information. We’re going to need your help, though, Angel.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Patty translated.

  “Well, for starters, we need to know what you remember from yesterday,” Maddie said. “We need to know how the fire started. Then we need to know how you got there and if you know anything about any other relatives you have. I think that’s the best place to start.”

  Patty nodded in agreement. “I think that’s a good idea, too. Let’s talk about yesterday, Angel.” Her hands moved quickly. “Start with the time you woke up until the time Maddie pulled you from the basement window. Don’t leave anything out.”

  8

  Eight

  Maddie was reluctant to leave Angel, but Sharon was insistent that the girl get used to her new surroundings without Maddie hovering so she had no choice but to leave once Patty was done questioning her. Patty promised she would stick close to the home and serve as a go-between so Angel would have someone to talk with. Maddie offered a cheery wave and a promise that she would be back before turning grouchy the second she walked through the exit door.

  She found her father at the house when she returned. He sat in his car, a dirty look on his face, and when Maddie stopped outside the window she could tell he wasn’t in the best of moods. That was fine. She wasn’t exactly feeling benevolent at the present moment either. “What happened?”

  George mustered a smile for Maddie, but his agitation remained. “I ran into your grandmother when I stopped to see you. Your car was in the driveway so I assumed you were home. She insisted I wait out here rather than in the house in case I tried to steal something from your store.”

  Maddie didn’t know if she should be angry or amused. “Oh, well, that’s just how she is. Don’t let her get to you.”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s hungover.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re right,” Maddie agreed. “She had a late night terrorizing Harriet Proctor.”

  “Isn’t that how she spends the bulk of her nights?”

  “Pretty much.” Maddie held open the door as George climbed out of the car. “Not that I’m not happy to see you – because I am – but what are you doing here? We didn’t have a lunch date I forgot about or something, did we?”

  “No.” George’s smile turned kind as he regarded his daughter. He’d gone without her so long in his life he still considered it a miracle of sorts that he could just drop in on her when he felt like it. “I saw the news this afternoon and I wanted to check on you.”

  Maddie furrowed her brow. “The news?”

  “About the house down the way.” George vaguely gestured. “I heard there was a fire and you pulled a young girl from the house and saved her.”

  Maddie was dumbfounded. “They put that on the news? I can’t believe they used my name. I didn’t talk to anyone from the press. They didn’t even show up until I was leaving.”

  George chuckled, genuinely amused. “They didn’t say your name. They had one shot of you from a great distance away. You were standing with Nick and looked upset. Then you took off and left him behind, making me think he was upset.”

  “Oh.” Maddie was marginally placated. “He wasn’t all that upset.”

  “He looked upset.”

  Maddie heaved out a sigh, her eyes automatically traveling to Mildred’s scarred house on the hill. “Do you want to take a walk with me?”

  If George found her desire to ch
ange the subject strange, he didn’t show it. “I guess. Where are we going?”

  “On a ghost hunt.” Maddie saw no reason to lie. “The story about what happened yesterday is pretty long and convoluted. At the center of it, though, is a ghost.”

  “Mildred? The woman who lived in the house, right? I heard she died. I’m sorry about that if you knew her.”

  Maddie shook her head. “It wasn’t Mildred. It was someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “I honestly have no idea.”

  George merely shrugged and nodded. “Sure. A ghost hunt sounds good. As long as I get to spend some time with you, I don’t care what we do.”

  Maddie’s smile was genuine as she snagged his gaze. “I guess we have a plan then, huh?”

  “We certainly do.”

  “THIS IS THE PLACE.”

  Nick double-checked the address on his GPS with the numbers on the ramshackle house and shook his head. After leaving the morgue, Kreskin suggested heading to Gaylord to talk to the one family tie they’d been able to confirm for Mildred. It was a nephew, although Nick and Kreskin could find no proof the man ever spent time with his aunt.

  “You’re sure this is the place?” Nick remained dubious as he regarded the rundown home. It was set back from the road, garbage strewn about the driveway, and the house didn’t exactly look hospitable. “Maybe there’s a mistake in the record.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Kreskin was resigned as he got out of the patrol car, being careful to avoid the litter as he walked across what could loosely be described as a “lawn” and climbed the rickety steps that led to the front door of the house. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  Kreskin knocked and waited, Nick a few feet behind him. When the door finally opened, both men were surprised to see the clean-cut man standing on the other side of the threshold. He looked well-groomed and put together. He also looked confused.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Steven Wilkins?” Kreskin asked, glancing at his phone for confirmation on the name before continuing.