The Ex Who Saw a Ghost (Charley's Ghost Book 4)

by Sally Berneathy

  Amanda had gone through a lot of jobs before settling on motorcycle repair, and most of that time she’d been short of funds. But she’d always had the safety net of moving in with her parents. She’d never once considered that option, but she would have done it rather than sell her body.

  Jenny had proclaimed melodramatically that she and her baby would have to live in a hovel, but that would never happen. She had Davey to take care of her. Worst case scenario, she had her parents.

  Lila had no safety net.

  Amanda lay on the sofa, warm and cozy under the quilt, for a long time before sleep finally came.

  

  Amanda tried to sneak out of the apartment before Jenny woke the next morning, but when she stepped out of the shower, her sister was sitting on the bed in her voluminous nightgown, talking about breakfast and the bagels she’d bought the day before.

  “I don’t have time!” Amanda threw on her clothes, grabbed a Coke and ran down the stairs with Charley close behind.

  “That’s not a healthy breakfast,” Jenny called from the doorway.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a bagel for breakfast,” Charley said. “Leftover pizza, tacos, toaster waffles, but not bagels.”

  “They’re okay if you pile on enough flavored cream cheese.” Amanda opened the door to her shop and went in.

  Dawson looked up from the motorcycle he was working on and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Amanda, have you talked to Jake? Is he all right?”

  Amanda stopped. A cold chill darted down her spine even though Charley hadn’t touched her. “Jake? No. Why wouldn’t he be all right?”

  Dawson rose slowly. “You haven’t seen the news?”

  She shook her head. That cold chill spread through her chest. “No. I don’t watch the news. It’s too depressing.”

  Dawson rubbed the back of his head and compressed his lips. “Guess I’ll have to be the one to depress you. Yesterday evening the sheriff’s department down south in Kraken County went to question some elderly man out on a farm with regard to the bodies found on his property. He opened the door and started blasting with a shotgun. The sheriff took him prisoner but the guy who went with him was shot. They haven’t given out a lot of details, but they said Dallas County Detective Jake Daggett was taken to the Kraken County General Hospital. That’s your Jake, right?”

  Amanda licked her dry lips. “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s my Jake.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Your Jake?” Charley’s eyes widened, his expression turned grim.

  “Did they say how badly he was hurt?” She held her breath.

  Dawson shook his head. “All they said was that he was taken to the hospital. Want me to find out?”

  “No. I need to see for myself.”

  “See for yourself? What does that mean?” Charley planted himself directly in front of her, hands on his hips. “You want to see him injured and bleeding? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Amanda pushed through him, her insides already so icy she didn’t feel the usual chill, and strode toward her motorcycle on the far side of the work area. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she called over her shoulder.

  “No problem,” Dawson replied. “It’s a slow day. I hope Jake’s okay.”

  Charley followed close behind. “Where are you going? So he got shot. That happens to cops. Goes with the territory. Part of the job description.”

  Amanda grabbed a leather jacket from a hook and a helmet from a shelf.

  “Think about what you’re doing,” Charley ordered. “You’re not going to go down there to see him, are you? If he wanted to see you, he would have called.”

  Amanda hesitated, helmet half on. It was true. He hadn’t called her. He’d been shot yesterday, taken to the hospital, and he hadn’t called her to let her know.

  But what if he couldn’t talk? What if he was in a coma? What if...?

  Pushing the bone-chilling thoughts aside, she shoved her helmet into place and fastened the chin strap. She could see Charley’s lips moving but his words were muffled by the helmet. It provided safety in more than one way.

  Within minutes she was speeding down the highway, heading toward Kraken County Hospital...toward Jake.

  Maybe Charley was right. Maybe he’d have called her if he wanted to see her.

  It wasn’t like they had a real relationship. They’d only gone out a few times. Only kissed a few times.

  But they were significant kisses, meaningful kisses.

  She cursed the traffic. Perhaps the other drivers weren’t in a hurry to get somewhere but she was. What if she got there too late? What if he...

  No, she wouldn’t think about that.

  She hit the gas and darted around two sedans, going between the lanes of traffic, a very unsafe practice. Her handlebars cleared the vehicles by inches. Charley appeared in her peripheral vision, shouting something she couldn’t hear.

  After what seemed like a journey half way around the world, she turned into the hospital parking lot, pulled off her helmet and fastened it to the sissy bar.

  “Are you crazy?” Charley demanded. “You know better than to ride between cars like that! You could have been killed. What were you thinking?”

  She strode across the concrete to the hospital entrance.

  Charley stood in front of the door, hands outstretched. “I can’t let you do this, Amanda.”

  She pushed through him for the second time that day.

  He followed her. “That was really rude. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have somebody walk right through you? I hope you never find out, Amanda. It’s not a good feeling.”

  A receptionist sat behind a large desk.

  “What room is Jake Daggett in?” she asked.

  “Two fifteen. Second floor, halfway down on the right.”

  The woman had given her a room number. That meant he was still alive. Amanda crossed the area to the elevator and pushed the up button.

  “You shouldn’t be wandering around a hospital,” Charley said. “There’s all kinds of germs here. You could catch something and end up dead, and it’s not as much fun as you might think.”

  The elevator doors opened.

  Charley stepped in front of her, his brows lowered in a fierce scowl. “This is not a good idea.”

  Amanda halted with one foot inside. The elevator was electric. Charley had abilities with electrical equipment. “Is that a threat?”

  “What?”

  “Are you planning to strand me halfway between floors?” Amanda spun on her heel and headed for the stairs.

  “Of course...I...I...how can you say that?” Charley’s sputtering attempt to deny the accusation, to lie, told her she’d hit on the truth. “If he wanted to see you, he’d have called you. Don’t set yourself up for a fall.”

  If Charley really thought Jake didn’t want to see her, would reject her, he’d be encouraging her to hurry.

  One flight of stairs, down the hall on the right.

  Room two fifteen.

  At the door she hesitated. Swallowed. Sucked in a deep breath. Knocked on the wooden frame of the open door. “Jake?”

  “Amanda?” His deep voice was slow and groggy.

  She stepped into the room. The crooked smile on his face dispelled all fears. He was alive. He was glad to see her. She felt her own lips move upward in response. “Hi.”

  Lying on the hospital bed with tubes connecting him to various machines and a huge white bandage on his left shoulder, he still looked strong and vital.

  He licked his lips and cleared his throat. “I got shot.”

  “I heard.”

  “Come in.” He motioned with his right hand to a plastic chair on the other side of the bed. His IV trailed along with the gesture. “Have a seat.”

  “Don’t sit there!” Charley warned. “You don’t know who’s been sitting there. That chair could be covered with a million kinds of germs. You sit there and they’ll be crawli
ng all over you.”

  “Thank you.” She crossed the room and sank into the chair. If she could deal with Charley, she could certainly handle a few million germs.

  “Good to see you.” Jake’s voice croaked and he cleared his throat again. “They put tubes down my throat when they knocked me out last night to get the slugs. Throat hurts worse than the bullets.”

  “Yeah, about those bullets... What happened?”

  “Oh, good grief!” Charley flipped a hand through Jake’s injured shoulder.

  Jake flinched and shivered, made a rough attempt at laughter then coughed. “Okay, maybe the throat doesn’t hurt worse than the shoulder.”

  “I’ve had all I can take of this.” Charley left the room. Good. He was sulking again. She’d have a few minutes of privacy.

  She leaned closer to Jake. His right hand lay on his chest. She wanted to take it in hers, feel his warmth, reassure herself he was still alive and breathing. She folded her hands in her lap to restrain any such impulsive impulse. “What happened?”

  “All hell is about to break loose. Senator Anderson is pulling every string he can to find out what happened to his son. They’re working on warrants for everything you can imagine. In a day or two the property around that well will be swarming with law enforcement. The man who owns that property is Lloyd Carstairs, a man Laskey’s known most of his life. His dad was best man at Carstairs’ wedding. Now the guy’s eighty-five and getting a little senile so Laskey wanted to talk to him first. Since he was doing it kind of under the table, he let me go with him instead of one of his deputies.”

  Amanda waited.

  Jake blinked slowly. Was he going to sleep? He was wounded, in the hospital. He probably needed his sleep. She should go and let him rest.

  But if he dozed off then woke and found her gone, that might be stressful on him. That justification meant she should stay.

  She cleared her throat.

  His gaze focused on her and he smiled. “Hi, Amanda.”

  “Hi, Jake. Carstairs,” she repeated. “You went out to question Carstairs. Isn’t that the guy those deer hunters thought called the cops on them for trespassing?” Stanley Wagner was one of those deer hunters. Was this another link to him?

  “Yeah, Carstairs calls the sheriff a lot. His wife and daughter were killed by an intruder about thirty years ago, and he went a little nuts after that. Claims to see intruders on his property and in his house. Sometimes it’s those Wagner boys, sometimes it’s President Truman, and sometimes it’s strangers. Laskey has to check out all the calls, but they never find anybody.”

  Another reference to those Wagner boys. Should she mention Lila’s phone call with Stanley Wagner? If she did, she’d have to explain how she knew. That wouldn’t be easy without admitting Charley got the information for her. Besides, Jake was recovering from a bullet wound. She shouldn’t bother him with details that might be meaningless. It might not even be the same Stanley Wagner. “So a senile octogenarian put you in the hospital?”

  Jake laughed then coughed again. “Yeah, but let me tell you, his bullets hurt just as much as bullets from somebody younger. Laskey said he was a good man, a little crazy but harmless. He greeted us at the door with a twelve-gauge shotgun. I took a couple of pellets of double-ought buckshot in my shoulder. I don’t think he’s such a good man and certainly not harmless.”

  Amanda shivered at the image Jake’s words conjured in her mind—the powerful projectiles thrusting into his body, sending jolts of pain through him, releasing the red blood of life from his veins. “You were lucky you only got hit by two of them.”

  “From that close range, if he’d been a better shot, I’d be...” He paused, looked at Amanda, then looked away. “I’d be a lot worse off.”

  He’d be dead. That’s what he’d started to say. Amanda swallowed. And if he died, he probably wouldn’t even come back like Charley did. Not that she wanted Jake to be in that state. She wanted him alive and warm and on the same physical plane she was. “Did Sheriff Laskey get hit?”

  “No, the rest of the load went into the tree behind us. He took down Carstairs, handcuffed him and arrested him.”

  “I’m glad you’re not...you know...hurt worse. Though I guess having two slugs in your shoulder and having those slugs dug out is pretty painful.”

  “With all the drugs they’ve given me, not so much.”

  Jake was on drugs, heavy-duty drugs. That explained why he was so relaxed, why he was telling her so much and not just spouting that line about not being able to talk about an on-going investigation. Maybe she should leave. Not take advantage of his drugged state. Yes, that’s what she should do. She’d verified that he was alive, that he was glad to see her. Now she should leave.

  He smiled at her. “Hi, Amanda. I’m glad you came.”

  He was confused, thought she’d just arrived. It would be rude to leave now when he thought she’d just come. She should stay and visit a while. And if he wanted to tell her details of the crime, it would only be polite to listen.

  “So Carstairs murdered Parker and all those other men in the well?”

  Jake made a movement she interpreted as nodding. “Allegedly.” It took a couple of attempts before he got the multi-syllable word right. “Man’s got an arsenal, every kind of gun from twenty-two revolvers to deer rifles, and he shot an officer.”

  “That he did,” Amanda agreed. “He shot you.”

  “Looks like most of the bodies were killed with a rifle, but they matched the bullet that killed Parker to a Glock found in a kitchen drawer in Carstairs’ house.”

  “That’s pretty damning. I’m glad they caught Parker’s killer. Any idea why he did it?”

  “He claims he’s innocent. They all say that. But he admitted he had those guns to protect himself from the people trespassing on his property and breaking into his house. We can only speculate that Parker was on his property, Carstairs saw him, thought he was an intruder, and shot him.”

  “Maybe all those calls he made about trespassers were real people, but he killed them and dumped them in the well before the sheriff’s department got there to answer his calls.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he killed them and called the sheriff when their ghosts came back to haunt him.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Ghosts. Sensitive subject. Her conversation with Jake was going so well on so many levels, she wasn’t sure she wanted to get into the ghost thing. However, he was on drugs. How much of this conversation would he even remember?

  “You mean a ghost like Ross’ brother?”

  His face settled into rigid lines for a moment, then he relaxed and looked confused. Good drugs. “I don’t know what to think of that story. Do you?”

  She shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to admit that she could vouch for the truth of it because she had her own personal ghost. “Teresa has a gift.”

  “She did take us to Parker’s body,” Jake conceded. “But if she really could talk to him, why didn’t he tell us who killed him?”

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t understand about ghosts.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter since finding the body led us to Carstairs, so in a way he told us. If she really talked to him.” He lifted a hand to his forehead. “Thinking about that makes me dizzy.”

  It was probably the drugs that made him dizzy, but she wasn’t going to argue. “Does Ross know?”

  “Yeah. He called. He’s the one who told me about the match on the bullets. He was really happy about finding his brother’s killer. His brother’s alleged killer. He took Parker’s death pretty hard.”

  “I know he did. Any idea why Parker would have been lurking around Carstairs’ place?” Had he ventured onto Carstairs’ property while following Lila in an effort to stop her from doing something he didn’t approve of? Did that something involve Stanley Wagner?

  “Don’t know,” Jake said. “We don’t even know where he was killed. The well was a secondary crime scene. Parker’s body was moved.”


  “Oh, yes, Parker said something about his journey out there when he didn’t realize he was dead.”

  “Parker said?” Jake’s eyes narrowed and his gaze sharpened.

  Uh oh. If she knew which gadget had the pain meds, she could give it a little bump to be sure he stayed dopey. But she didn’t. The best she could do was change the subject. “The other bodies, were they killed somewhere else too?”

  Jake’s eyelids drooped.

  Amanda cleared her throat again. “The other bodies? Any idea who they are?”

  Jake’s eyes opened and focused. “The decomp is so bad except for Parker and Steven Anderson, it’s going to be tough to figure it out. Anderson was involved in drugs and the other bodies have bad teeth. That happens a lot with meth users. This could all be about drugs.”

  “Drugs? It’s hard to picture an eighty-five year old man snorting a line of coke or trying to find a vein to shoot up.”

  Jake gave a lopsided grin. “That’s not exactly what we were thinking. Could be somebody’s cooking meth on his property. Middle of nowhere, elderly man who rarely gets out. It would be a perfect place. That might explain the people he sees.”

  Lila used meth. From the regularity of her phone calls with Stanley Wagner, it seemed likely he was her dealer, and the possibility this was the same Stanley Wagner they’d met was increasing. He could even be the one cooking meth on Carstairs’ property.

  That did it. She had to tell Jake what they’d discovered about Lila’s phone call. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with the best way to phrase it. “I have reason to believe that Lila Stone may know Stanley Wagner.” That sounded way better than, My ex-husband’s ghost found calls between Lila and Stanley when he swept through her phone after she got upset over a call that came in while I was at her place with Ross and Teresa.

  Jake blinked a couple of times. “Lila Stone? Who’s Lila Stone?”

  Apparently the cops hadn’t found that connection yet. “Parker’s...umm....it’s a long story. We’ll talk about it later.” She’d tried to tell him. She’d done her duty. She rose. “I guess I better leave and let you rest.”