“Maybe I don’t want to be questioned.”
Milo looked at Garrett Bell’s ghost. “It’s your choice, of course, Garrett. We can’t force you. But for once in your life, why not do something decent?”
Granny was examining Phil. “Milo’s right. I think we’ll be seeing a lot of these folks in the future.”
She nodded with satisfaction, as if judging a job well done, and started for the patio door. “I think,” said the ornery spirit, “that I’ll go outside and see if I can help Milo.”
“What puzzles me,” Emma said after Milo and the ghosts left, “is why did someone want to scare me off when I was leaving town already?”
Tracy, Susan, and Phil all stopped and looked at her as if she’d just spoken in Swahili. She took note of their stares. “What?”
Phil spoke first. “Whoever put those snakes in your car, Emma, wasn’t trying to scare you off, they were trying to kill you.” He said the words calmly but without a sugar coating.
Emma dropped into a nearby chair and covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders began to shake as if with a seizure. Tracy jumped to her side.
“It’s going to be okay, Emma.” Tracy rubbed Emma’s back. “Between us and the police, we’ll figure out who did this.”
“But why?” Emma stopped shaking and got a grip on her emotions. “Why me? I just wanted to find out about Granny. What reason would anyone have to want me dead?”
“How about that ex of yours?” The question came from Phil.
Tracy and Emma turned their heads toward Phil with the unison of synchronized swimmers.
“Grant?” Emma’s voice shook. “You think Grant might have done this?”
Phil shrugged. “Just saying that if it’s not the same person who killed Garrett Bell, your ex might be a possibility. I don’t know the guy. Is he capable of doing something like this?”
“You are battling over a lot of money, Emma.” Tracy plopped down in a chair next to Emma to think the theory over.
“No. It can’t be true. Grant’s many things, but a murderer?” Emma shook her head. “Besides, he’s in Europe with our daughter.”
“Sounds like a good alibi to me. Better than sleeping with a ghost.”
Seeing Emma’s feathers ruffle at Phil’s words, Susan broke in. “Emma, dear, it may not be true, but we really should consider all possibilities here. It could be that the murder in the cemetery and the attempt on your life aren’t even related.”
“The police did ask me a lot of questions about Grant and our divorce proceedings.” After a moment, Emma stood up and shimmied her body, ridding herself of the possibility like old skin. “No, I just won’t believe it. You guys can put it on the table as a possibility-a long shot, a very long shot-but I’m going to refuse to consider it until it stares me in the face, naked and raw. Grant is vain and arrogant and a total fool, but I’ve never known him to have a vicious, evil streak.” She remembered the way he stroked her hair at Kelly’s party. “No, I just can’t.”
“What about Carolyn?” offered Tracy.
Emma pondered the idea. “Now that’s a possibility. But I still believe whoever wanted me-,” she paused as another shock of fear zigzagged through her body, “whoever did this-is connected to Garrett Bell and Ian Reynolds.”
“I think you’re right.” They all turned to see Milo Ravenscroft coming back through the patio doors.
“Did Granny or Garrett tell you anything?” Emma’s voice was swollen with hope.
“Yes and no,” Milo answered. “Granny wasn’t able to connect with the spirit of the real Ian Reynolds, but I did get Garrett to confirm that this is all about gold, even the attempt on your life.”
Phil stepped forward. “But that doesn’t make sense. There’s been no gold here for decades, possibly over a hundred years. How many times do I have to tell you people that?”
Milo shrugged. “Garrett wasn’t saying much, but he’s determined that Emma should go home as soon as possible. Said he’s had his fun.” On the way to the Bowers ranch, Emma had told Milo and Tracy about Garrett’s visit to the cottage and his appearance at the scene of the accident. “Wouldn’t say who killed him, though he knows. He’s gone now.”
Milo walked to the kitchen and topped off his coffee mug from the pot on the counter. “He definitely said it was about gold.” He took a drink. “And he mentioned a name-Billy. Said to ask him.”
“Billy?” Emma stared in surprise.
“Yes, Billy. Isn’t that the name of the young ghost you spoke to? The one everyone thought killed himself?”
“Yes, that’s him.” Emma sat down again and thought about Billy, his murder, and what he’d said to her. “I was speaking with Billy when Garrett was spying on me in the cemetery. That’s when the other ghosts scattered.”
Emma stood up and studied the names on the table. Picking up a Post-It, she jotted gold on it and stuck it in on the table. Then she picked up other notes and positioned them in two columns under it. Stuck in a row to the right went present-day people, alive and dead, including a note with a big question mark on it to represent Garrett’s unknown killer. To the left, she lined up the people from the past. She put the past folks in chronological order. Jacob and Ish Reynolds were first, since Jacob discovered the gold first. Then came Winston, who either didn’t know about it or didn’t care. Under him went Big John Winslow and Billy, plus a sticky note with Bobcat and Parker written on it to represent Winslow’s accomplices. Next came Buck Bowers.
Emma looked at Susan. “Did you ever hear anything in your family’s history about gold on that property?”
Susan Steveson shook her head. “Never.” She turned to her nephew. “How about you, Phil?”
“Nothing.”
Picking up the letters from John Winslow, Emma scanned them once more, trying to find overlooked information or even something written between the lines.
“According to these, we can piece together that John and his gang killed Jacob and hung Ish, and that they did it as part of their plan to get their hands on the gold Jacob had discovered. By hanging Ish vigilante-style, they made sure there were no further questions and investigation. Rumor circulated that she was killed for murdering her husband, and people accepted that, even if some didn’t believe it. Granny said that Parker was very mean. A snake, she called him.” Emma paused to shudder before continuing. “Maybe some people knew but were afraid of this Parker guy. Either way, it went down in history that she killed Jacob. Winston Reynolds didn’t want to stay in Julian, and he trusted Billy’s father. He was probably happy to sell the property and move on with his life, leaving behind the double tragedy.”
Emma stared at the notes on the table, willing them to talk to her. She tapped a finger on the one with the names Bobcat and Parker. “Granny said that this Parker fellow owned the property on the other side of them.” She looked at Susan and Phil. “What property would she mean? And is there still a Parker family in the area?”
Susan spoke up. “The Parker property was on the other side, just beyond the woods and stream. But the Parker family hasn’t owned it in over fifty years. I remember when they sold it and moved. I was just a young girl, and they had two daughters near my age.
Emma looked around but didn’t see Granny. “Milo, did Ish leave?”
Before he could answer, Granny spoke up. “I’m here, Emma.”
Emma looked in the direction of the deck and saw the ghost’s image slowly come into view.
“Granny, did Winston know about the gold Jacob found?”
The ghost paused a moment to think. “I don’t believe so. I thought it best he not know right off. And Jacob found it shortly before he was killed.”
“Okay,” Emma said, moving along on her thought trail. “So Winston was in the dark about the gold and his parents’ deaths. He takes the money from the land and leaves town to start a new life.”
She paused to look around. Everyone was listening with rapt attention, following her logic as she pieced toget
her the events.
“Billy told me,” she continued, “that his mother left because of what his father did. She obviously didn’t tell anyone about it, but she left. Then Billy was killed, and it was made to look like a suicide. Billy said he was killed because he knew what his father had done.”
“I think Billy’s the key,” said Milo.
Emma scanned the papers. “I think you’re right, Milo. In fact, in this last letter, John Winslow refers to something Billy did. Something `he ought not have done’ but for which his father accepts full blame. That might reference the fact that Billy knew about the killings and was going to tell.”
“Or,” added Phil, “it could be more literal. Maybe Billy did do something that got him killed. Some action, like already telling someone. Or it could be that Billy interfered in some way with their plans.”
Emma thought about the manner in which she was questioned by the detectives. “When I questioned Billy, I didn’t have these letters. I also don’t think I asked all the right questions in the right way. Plus we were interrupted by Garrett lurking about.”
“But what about Ian?” Phil asked. “I mean, that Garrett Bell guy? We know why the old folks were killed, but what about him?”
She walked over to Phil and put a hand on his arm. “Do you happen to know where in the cemetery Garrett’s body was found? Did anyone tell you that either in gossip or when you were questioned?”
Phil Bowers patted her hand as he shook his head. “Sorry, can’t recall.”
“Give me a minute,” Milo said. “I might remember.”
While they all watched, Milo went into the great room and settled into a large overstuffed chair near the fireplace. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
“What’s he doing?” Susan asked.
“He had a vision of Garrett’s dead body,” Emma explained. “Maybe he’s trying to recall where it was.”
“Jeeeeeeeeesus,” Phil said in disbelief. He threw up his hands and paced a few times. Emma shushed him and concentrated on Milo.
“The grass on the ground around the body is dry and brown,” Milo said, lost in concentration.
“That’s the whole damn cemetery this time of year,” crabbed Phil. “Hell, the whole area.”
“Shh!” Emma told him again.
“He’s been shot in the chest. Close range.” Milo paused. “Very close range, almost like the gun was held next to him when it was fired.” He lost himself again in the depths of his mind. “He was struggling with his assailant. The gun went off.” Without warning, Milo popped open his eyes and looked at them. “Is there a bench up at the cemetery?”
“There are a few scattered around,” Emma answered.
“He was killed by one of the benches-the topmost one. The one that looks down at the town.”
Emma ran her hands through her hair as she took her turn pacing and thinking. “That’s Billy’s bench. I’m sure of it.”
“You ARE NOT GOING to the cemetery!” Phil yelled, following Emma down the hallway. Susan, Milo, and Tracy were hot on their heels. Behind them, the dogs, still on the deck, were barking.
“But I have to. Billy’s the answer, don’t you understand? I just have to ask him the right questions in the right way.”
Emma yanked the front door open and spilled out into the large driveway. Then she froze. Her car wasn’t there. The dogs, riled up by the people, had left the deck and run around the house to join everyone in the driveway. Sweetie Pie and Baby reached them first. Archie and Killer brought up the rear, working their short legs into stumps to keep up.
“May I remind you, Fancy Pants, that your car went into a tree today courtesy of a killer?”
Phil took her by the arm. She shook it off. “Let me go. I have to get to Billy Winslow.”
“Not tonight, Emma.”
“Listen to him, Emma,” Tracy added. “It’s dark out. Besides, won’t the sheriff have it cordoned off like on TV?” Susan and Milo murmured in agreement.
“Exactly,” said Phil. “It’s not only dangerous, but you can’t trespass on a crime scene.”
Emma held her uninjured hand out toward Tracy. “Give me your keys. I’ll take your car”
“Granny,” Phil called out, surprising everyone. “Granny Apples.” He stood in the drive and turned this way and that through the barking dogs. “I know you’re out there and you can hear me, even if I can’t hear you.”
Emma stared at him, her mouth resembling a wide-mouth jar. “What are you doing?”
“If I can’t talk sense into you, maybe she can” He cupped his mouth with his hands and called out, “Yoo-hoo, Granny, come out, come out, wherever you are.”
“Give me your keys, Tracy,” Emma demanded again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m coming with you,” Tracy told her. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Phil ordered. “Damn it, Granny, where in the hell are you?”
“He’s right, Emma.”
Emma whipped her head around to see Granny standing just behind her. Milo saw her, too. The others let their eyes follow Emma and Milo’s cue.
The ghost shot a scowl at Phil. “As much as I dislike being bellowed at, the man’s right.”
While Milo translated for the others, Emma continued talking to Granny. “Then ask Garrett what Billy told him the night he was killed. Or better yet, tell him to come here and tell me himself.”
Phil came up to Emma and turned her around to face him. “What are you talking about?”
“I think Billy told Garrett something that got him killed. What’s more, I think that’s why Garrett was snooping around the cemetery watching me with the ghosts. He was trying to learn what Billy told me, or what he thought Billy had told me.” She took a deep breath and pointed in the direction of the Reynolds property. “There’s something about that land that Garrett and his friends know about. That’s why they wanted it. And I think the reason someone tried to kill me is they think Billy already told me whatever it is that’s so important. They want to make sure I don’t tell anyone else.” She poked her finger into Phil’s chest. “Specifically you, the present owner.”
Emma ran both her hands through her hair and held her aching skull. “It sounds so preposterous, yet so clear.”
Phil put an arm around her. “Take a deep breath, Emma. Take your time, and collect your thoughts. You’re exhausted.”
She leaned into him for a moment.
“Billy has to be the key. Otherwise, why would a clairvoyant be involved? Based on what Milo told me about Garrett Bell, maybe he learned something in a session with a client. Maybe that client was the real Ian Reynolds.”
“But Ian’s dead,” noted Milo.
“Yes, and isn’t it odd that he died about the time he received copies of those letters? Letters that talk about gold and confessions of murder. Letters that specifically say Billy did something he shouldn’t have.”
Phil wasn’t convinced. “The detectives told me Ian Reynolds died of natural causes.”
“Me too, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been rigged to look like natural causes. Especially if Ian was elderly.”
Emma left the comfort of Phil’s arm and paced. “Phil, when did you start hearing from Ian Reynolds about the property?”
Phil rolled his eyes upward as he calculated the time. “About three to four weeks ago.”
“Well, here’s another thought. Maybe whoever killed Garrett was his client. Someone who knew the real Ian Reynolds and came to Garrett after Ian’s death, letters in hand, to try and contact Billy Winslow or any of the ghosts of the people involved.” She paced some more. “I’ll bet if we check the hotels around here, we’ll find that Garrett, either as himself or Ian, has been here quite often in the past few weeks.”
“I know he has,” said Phil. “He was out here quite a bit until I finally ran him off.” He turned to his aunt. “Remember the well?”
“Yes, he broke into it. We had to ge
t a whole new padlock.”
“The well?” asked Emma. “Do you know why?”
“Not a clue. Before I fixed the lock, I checked it out. It’s dry. Nothing down there but dirt and debris.”
“I think Emma may be on to something,” Milo said. “Garrett was quite unethical. He’d use his talents without any thought of right and wrong.”
Pieces of information, like shards of stained glass, floated before Emma’s eyes, waiting for her to put them together into one tidy picture. She held her head in her hands again to ward off the dull, growing pain.
Emma added, “My guess is they know something about that property that we don’t, but they didn’t have all the information. That’s where Billy comes in. And Garrett. If Billy is the key, then Garrett, or someone like him, is the only one who can turn it.”
She looked at Milo. “What about you, Milo? Did anyone ever contact you about trying to reach Billy Winslow or anyone connected with that property?”
“Never. First I heard about it was from you and Granny.”
“See,” Emma said to everyone, “we have to ask Billy.”
Susan stepped forward. “Emma, dear, why don’t you get a good night’s sleep tonight and go to the police tomorrow?”
“The police aren’t going to listen to this.” Phil was kneeling, calming the animals. “They’ll consider it nonsense.”
“And what about you, Phil?” Emma glued her eyes to his face. “Do you still think it’s nonsense?”
Even though he couldn’t see it in the dark, he looked off in the direction of the Reynolds homestead. “If you’d asked me that this morning, I would have said yes.” He looked up at Emma’s waiting face. “Now, I’m not so sure.” He got up and dusted off his jeans. He looked into Emma’s blue eyes. “But since this morning, my whole world’s been turned on its ear. So I guess anything’s possible.”
“Then let me go talk to Billy.”
“In the morning. Bright and early, like the crack of dawn. I know you can see them during the day. I’ve seen you do it.”
“Better yet,” added Tracy, “why can’t Billy come here? Granny and Garrett travel about, why not him?”
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