“The Parker family had money. Dudley Parker came into town with a fist full of dollars and a mighty roar. He was dead a year later. Put a gun to his head, or so the story goes.” Russ raises an eyebrow and nods like we both know a secret, one I don’t have a clue about.
“If you didn’t already figure out when you met Ms. Gracie that she never recovered from that night, I’ll confirm it right now. Her family had good reason to protect her from what she’d suffered.”
I stop him to ask about Diana before he gets too far into telling what I mostly already know. Russ’ eyes dart around. He verifies what Loren said about the woman, and says she moved here with Grace’s money on her mind. Then he defends her efforts in taking care of the woman. The way the man’s dishing out information, Grace’s secrets are staying six feet under.
“Patience is a virtue,” he says, as if reading my mind.
“So is honesty.” I get another belly laugh that lasts longer than it’s worth before I get back to my original question, “Who’s in Grace Parker’s grave?”
He looks around and gets serious. “Nobody.”
“There’s no body in the grave?”
“Not even a coffin, according to what Grace told my mother. Folks these days don’t know anything but rumors. Well, maybe a few older ones do, but they aren’t talking.”
“Why?”
“Out of respect. Times were different then. The law’s one thing, morals are another. Folks enjoyed their gossip, but nobody blamed the wife or a fourteen year old girl for what that man did to both of them. The majority of folks can’t be bothered about what’s in an old grave. A few figured the Parkers wanted to bury their daughter’s misfortune. Some think they wanted to fool the police so they didn’t arrest her.”
“Because she’s guilty of murder?”
Russ gives me a stern look. “Not in my book. No one would think twice these days about doing what Argus did. Years ago though, what happened in that barn was quite the scandal. Grace was a child. He was a married man. The decapitation, well that was just barbaric. It changed the town. Pretty much destroyed the family.”
“I can understand that, but does your opinion on her innocence have anything to do with the fact that there’s no statute of limitations on murder?”
Russ gives me a sour look this time. “I agreed to talk to you again so you can put a stop to whatever’s going on in that barn before another of those kids gets hurt. I wanted you to meet Grace Parker so you’d understand the woman isn’t a threat to society. What’s done is done. Grace will be in that grave in the not too distant future.”
Russ is looking at everything but me. I get the feeling that he and his mom had reason to be grateful to Grace beyond a housekeeper’s paycheck. He looks me in the eyes and sighs. “She’s an old lady, Jack. I’m asking for your own good and hers to leave her be.” He scoops up the last of his slimy green dessert and I pick up the check.
As everyone who knows me can account, I rarely do things I’m told are for my own good. As he walks me out to the jeep, I don’t bother to tell Russ this fact since he left out a few facts of his own.
Neither Calvin nor Russ told me much of anything, but both wanted to talk to me. When people are eager to talk, they’re either friendly, nosy, or they want to persuade you of one thing or another. One thing neither persuaded me of was any genuine concern for the Spider crew.
I go back to the hotel and let Mojo out. He brings me a stick with a tiny spider crawling on its end. I take the stick and hold it up. “What’s your message little guy?” He isn’t talking so I try to shake him free of the stick before throwing it for the wolfdog. No amount of shaking releases its hold. Nice message.
When we get back to the room, I search for Calvin and Russ online and find nothing more than their businesses. I figure only half of what either told me was true. What half is true interests me as much as why they’re lying.
I’m bored and confused so I search for the one thing I’ve been avoiding: just how difficult is it to chop off someone’s head? Turns out it’s as difficult as it would be despicable. Even the guillotine isn’t fool proof. An old farm ax might require a half dozen whacks. While I agree that a teenager may have struggled with the gruesome deed, a scorned female has amazing determination.
Grace Parker has lived comfortably in her mansion for the past seventy three years, and just maybe, almost sixty years as a murderer. I doubt Russ or Calvin think I’m a threat to her freedom at this point. Unless that’s not the story at all and the real truth is that Grace Parker is both the woman who spoke to me in the barn, and the one who’s buried in that grave.
∞
I’m right on time getting to the Starling Bar and Grill. I head to the lounge to find the person who wants to pay me for something I doubt I’m selling. The bar is intimidating with its thick carpets, smoky mirrors, and servers who clearly think jeans and biker boots aren’t appropriate dress.
Diana’s sitting in an oversized booth in the corner. Her eyes are on me when mine adjust to the dark. She doesn’t bother to signal me over. She just slips a martini olive in her mouth and glares.
“Ms. Raven.”
“Ms. Edwards,” I say, sitting across from her. She closes her eyes and clamps her jaw. She’s a good ten or more years younger than Grace, but I can see the resemblance.
I order a beer and hear the waiter snicker. “What can I do for you, Diana?”
“I know the reason you’re here.”
“So do I. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You may fool some people with your… ghost eradication services, but not me. Believe me, I could care less how you make a living. I do care about my family however. Grace Parker is an old woman. She doesn’t need her remaining years disrupted by you or anyone else. I regret that a young man lost his life in that old barn, but it was merely an accident.”
“Try again. Axes don’t chop off heads by accident.”
She shrugs and looks past me. “You know I’m talking about the boy who fell out there. And I know that ghosts and goblins are only found in low budget movies and at children’s Halloween parties. Again, I don’t care how you make your living. I care that you’re attempting to drag Grace and her reputation through the muck in order to sell more tickets to your traveling spook show.”
“I don’t sell tickets. What are you trying to sell me?”
“Nothing. I’m here to buy you a ticket out of town.”
Chapter Twenty Six
§
The waiter brings Diana another martini and ignores me. The woman’s tapping a plastic fingernail on the table until she realizes she’s doing it, then she unclenches her jaw long enough to sip her drink.
I assure her that I have my own transportation to go anywhere, anytime I want, and that I’m not going anywhere just yet. Then I ask her why she’s trying to pay me off.
She hisses under her breath before saying Grace is old and her mental state is fragile. I stifle a laugh and almost miss seeing the deceit in her eyes.
“We should all be so lucky to grow old and live in a fantasy world where we are delightfully entertained by pink poodles and gelatin spiders,” I say.
“I don’t find your attitude amusing.”
“Find it anything you want. Tell me the real reason you want me to leave.”
She takes another delicate sip of her drink and devours the olive like it’s a meal. I didn’t expect her to tell me why, and she doesn’t. She does get uncomfortable with the silence as I wait for her answer though. Finally, she asked me to name my price so we can just get this over with.
“That’s not the way I do business. Trying to buy me off with a bucket full of bull won’t ever make you a customer.”
Another hiss almost slips past her painfully tight lips. She pushes an envelope across the table. “No bull. Ten thousand dollars. Leave tonight,” she says. That and a warning to forget that I ever met Grace Parker.
I come close to asking her who’s in the grave at St. Mark’
s Cemetery, but I know she won’t tell me. Watching the red spikes of fury swirling around the woman’s head, I also decide I don’t want her to know that I found the grave.
I stand up and look down at her. “Like I said, I’m not going anywhere just yet.”
“You’ll regret that.”
“Don’t make promises you’ll find way too painful to keep.”
Walking out the door without that envelope was just sad. Not only am I out ten thousand dirty dollars, I’m afraid the woman I was planning on helping me release Argus Pudge’s spirit just might be his murderer. There are so many things that can go wrong with my plan to bring Grace to the barn, I can’t count them all. The first one though is the fact that I’m not even sure who the woman really is.
∞
After a fitful night of sleep, I get up early the next morning and head to the barn. I want to spend some time there alone before the crew arrives. I want to come up with a new plan.
As soon as I let Mojo out of the jeep, he takes off in the direction of the north end of the field. I’m tempted to let him go and follow, but I call him back. Just what I need is for him to find another body part buried out there– like one belonging to Edith or the real Grace Parker. Although I’m eighty percent sure that Grace is who everyone says she is, I’d prefer not to learn otherwise.
The barn is dark and chilly. It’s bursting with the sweet smell of peppermint and a heaviness I haven’t felt before. Lies? Deceit? I can’t tell. I’m hoping all I’m sensing is the residual of Edith’s heavy burden, and that it’s finally ready to be released.
I go to the east corner and light my smudge stick. Its orange glow cast my shadow on the wall. After tossing some rock salt, I close my eyes and say, “I promise I’ll be as quiet as a mouse about you. Tell me, is your name Edith Pudge?”
I feel myself sinking into the floor, and I can taste the copper that I suspect is the phantom blood of Argus Pudge. “I’m here to help—
“Jack?”
I’m not sure if the living or dead spoke my name, but the sound of the barn door slamming shut snaps me out of my trance. Bright lights assault my senses. It’s not even seven o’clock yet.
“I’m here,” I say.
Zeda’s looking around, looking guilty. “Did we interrupt anything?” she asks.
I tell her I didn’t expect them to be in so soon. Todd says they have extra work to do. He’s slamming everything he touches. Zeda is blowing on her fisted hands and folding into herself.
“We brought donuts.” Her voice cracks. Todd claims he needs to get something from the car and storms out. Gray energy follows him out the door.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Problems.” Zeda microwaves her coffee and stuffs a cookie in her mouth before slumping in a chair. “Owen’s been making mistakes for weeks and he’s been covering them up. He took off yesterday after Todd got on his case and he didn’t come back. He isn’t answering his phone either and he won’t call me. With everything that’s been going on, we’re already behind schedule. Now we have to fix everything Owen’s done. Without Morgan and now this, the entire project is doomed. And the spiders are back.”
I ask how long Owen’s been on medication and she shrugs. She says he’s been messing up since before they used the Ouija board. She’s afraid that the Silvers were wrong about him.
I ask what she means about the Silvers.
“They said he had tons of coding experience. It was supposed to just be Todd and Morgan and me. The first day we came to the barn, he was here with them. We believed Rice and Alice, but it wasn’t fair not to tell us about him after we had already invested.”
She claims the Silvers are going to be in town for another day. I’m explaining why it would be helpful to talk to them before they go when Todd stomps back into the barn.
Zeda shakes her head and tells me not to ask just yet. I want to tell them both that hostile energy will only make matters worse here, but Todd’s in no condition to listen. I say I’ll be back once they’ve gone to lunch and Todd tells me they plan on working twenty-four seven or the entire project will fail.
I go to get my things to go for the walk that Mojo wanted to take in the field. I’m hoping once Todd’s had a chance to cool off, I can arrange for some time alone.
“These things were done deliberately.” Todd’s at his computer. Zeda’s at the lunch table eating donuts. “He’s dead meat now. Serves him right,” Todd yells.
The kid’s back to slamming things as I head to the door. I look back to wave to Zeda and see his gray aura turning black and shooting streaks of red.
I don’t know if Todd has a right to be angry or not, but I know what his anger is doing to my ability to find and release the spirit. I decide to wait and talk to Loren about getting time in the barn alone, as well as her taking action to do something about Todd’s rage.
Negative energy attracts more negative energy and a hostile spirit feeds off the living’s fury and become stronger. Todd’s rage and Zeda’s fear are mirroring the events of that night, and the lingering trauma isn’t going anywhere with them fueling the energy. The irony of past and present deceit in these walls hasn’t escaped my attention either. And me without a plan.
I follow Mojo through the field. The wolfdog keeps running and coming back for me. I’m almost sure that it’s the residual energy he’s tracking. I figure Grace’s long ago path back to the blue mansion has him both delighted and confused. Me too.
We’ve walked for a half hour and I’m antsy. I’ve changed my mind a half dozen times about bringing Grace to the barn, but I can’t come up with a better solution. Right now, I need to stop wasting time in the field and get back to see how Todd’s doing. Mojo is having none of it. When I call for him to come, he lies in the grass and won’t budge.
“You know what? Even if another skull is out here, I don’t want to know about it. I can’t imagine the grief Coleman will give me if I find something else. Is that what you want?” He still won’t move. “Okay, let’s get this over with.” I start walking towards him and he takes off running, returning, running. He’s a regular Lassie without the barking.
Before he gets to where he found Argus’ skull, he turns east. I’m fearful that he’ll end up on the private property in that direction so I run to catch up. I don’t get far. He’s stopped at the edge of the field right at a walking path that’s lined with wild sunflowers and four-leaf clovers. He’s looking at something that I don’t think I want to see. I’m holding my breath as I approach. The sound of a nearby creek is soothing. The air is warm and sticky, the birds are silently watching us. Mojo looks like a statue.
There’s a blue jacket spread out in the middle of the path; one I’ve seen before. I get a stick and push it a few inches. Under it is a Minnesota driver’s license face up, and that face is looking at me. I’ve seen that face before too. It belongs to Owen Thornton.
Chapter Twenty Seven
§
Great. I tell the wolfdog he’s a ghost tracker not a people tracker but he isn’t listening. After looking around for a body and not finding one, I squat down to look at the red streak across the driver’s license. If it’s blood, it’s barely more than a hang nail would produce.
I go back to the field while knowing our DNA is still on that path. Even without our DNA, my footprints and Mojo’s paw prints are within inches of the jacket. I want to go back and get Owen’s things and take them to the barn so he’ll have them when he comes in. The last thing I want to do is call the police. Not only am I going to look suspicious, so are my clients.
After considering my options, I know I don’t have any. I can’t convince myself that Owen got a ride in this morning then went for a walk, forgot his things, and is at the barn right now wondering where he left them. I can’t persuade myself to dismiss Todd’s raging about Owen, or to believe that the red streak on the kid’s license is ketchup.
I start walking to the road to see if Owen’s car is parked there. It isn’t so I c
all the police. The clerk is confused about what I found and why I think it was necessary to call. I’m confused by his lack of concern. I tell him I’m just reporting what I found and thank him for his time.
I’m about to disconnect when he asks my name. I provide it and he tells me to hold on a minute. I fear the next voice I hear will be Coleman’s. It isn’t. It’s the clerk again and he’s telling me to wait at the road by where I found the skull. My name has clout in this little town that I wish it didn’t. He tells me two officers are already on their way.
I consider calling Todd since of the three, his is the only number I have. On the one hand, I don’t want to worry him and Zeda. On the other hand, I fear that worry won’t be how Todd reacts to my find. If his temper is still out of control, he may get to work his twenty-four seven in an interrogation room. With this turn of events, poor Argus may be getting the barn all to himself again and be destined to never see the afterlife.
Ten minutes later, I see a flashing blue light flying my direction, thankfully without a siren blaring. When the vehicle pulls to the edge of the road, I see it’s Coleman– the last person I’d hoped would respond.
At first I think Coleman’s happy to see me but as she gets closer, I can see she’s just squinting from the sun. “Raven, what have you uncovered now?” She adjusts what I suspect is her holster under her jacket and gives me a tough cop glare.
“It’s back this way,” I say, and start walking.
“Hold on. It what?” She slips on her mirrored sunglasses then crosses her arms like she’s dealing with a five year old caught stealing gum from the corner grocery store— looking tough, sizing me up.
I cross my arms and glare back. “I assumed the dispatch operator provided the information I called in.”
Coleman gets flustered and kicks a rock out of her way. “Jacket and driver’s license? You touch either?”
I tell her about the stick I used and how I left immediately after seeing the name on the driver’s license.
The Eton Bluff Haunting (Jack Raven Ghost Mystery Book 4) Page 13