Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2)

by T Patrick Phelps

  "What? Why not?" Maggie demanded.

  "I can't be a part of this team and still be employed by you. I need to choose to either be on our team or be on my own. I'd like to be part of the team. So, if it's okay with you, Derek Cole, freelance detective is no longer a per diem employee of the Bryants."

  The suddenness and the duration of the hug Maggie gave Derek warmed him. As he held her, he knew that her embrace would ward off even the coldest winds the frozen coast of Maine could send his way. He felt lost in her arms. Nothing else mattered. His history, filled with moments of joy and of tragedy, evaporated in an instant. A sudden flash of his departed wife's face appeared in his mind's eye. Lucy's imagined face was filled with a smile.

  Maggie wanted to keep holding Derek and for a brief moment, felt that her worries and fears were a distant memory. She too felt a warmth from the embrace. A feeling warm enough to scare the frigid shivers of her life's mistakes into oblivion. She didn't know how long she held him or how long he held her, but when she felt Derek twinge in sudden pain, she quickly pulled away.

  "What happened? Did I hurt you?" she asked.

  "I had an incident tonight. Took a bad fall while chasing someone or something on the Marginal Way."

  "What do you mean, chasing 'someone or something?'" John asked.

  "Wait till you hear this story."

  #####

  The three sat around the dining room table after Maggie had finished checking in on Robby. Derek explained everything that happened to him while he was walking the Marginal Way. He explained, in detail, everything that Melissa Humphrey and Ron White had said to him during his interviews. Derek held nothing in secret.

  He explained to John and Maggie how he and Ralph Fox had worked together on Derek's last case and how they had become friends.

  "Though Ralph's the Chief of Police, the town he works for is very small. He won't admit it to me, but I know he has a lot of free time on his hands and would much rather help us out on our case than sit around doing very little in his office."

  "I'd like to meet him someday," Maggie said.

  "He's quite a character."

  Derek tapped the notebook he had taken from Ron's room that was now lying on the table in front of him. "We still need to see what was so important about this notebook that Ron hid it in his bathroom vent. But, I have to say that I'm not all that comfortable opening this up in front of you both."

  "I don't blame you and actually appreciate the respect you are showing Ron," John said.

  "I feel the same, despite really wanting to see what he wrote in that book," Maggie said.

  "How's this for an idea," Derek said as he slid the notebook off the table and onto his lap, "since this is evidence that I illegally removed from an active crime scene, which, by the way is not something that police are especially fond of, how about I take this back to my hotel room tonight, read what's in there, and if there is anything important to the case, I will share it with you both. This way, you have plausible deniability, and Ron's personal thoughts are protected. Sound like a plan?"

  "Sounds like a good plan. I hate it, but it's a good plan."

  When Derek returned the conversation to the murder of Jack's father, the confession letter Jack had written, and the fact that the letter was not allowed in court, Maggie sat, slowly shaking her head.

  "I met Jack when we were both 20 years old. I was way too young and immature, but I fell for him. Don't ask me why. I always felt that he was hiding something from me but never could place my finger on what." She paused to take a sip of coffee. "We got married a year after we met and a few months after that was when I started to hear about Jack being suspected in the murder of his father. I didn't give it much thought until I started hearing more details.

  "Jack and I lived near Portland when we first got married. There was a cop, Troy Frock, who I met at the church I went to. He was an officer who was on the police force when Jack's dad was killed. We became friends after a while. He opened up to me and told me everything he knew about the case. "I would have left Jack but I had just found out that I was pregnant with Robby. I couldn't leave and be alone after knowing I was pregnant. Actually," Maggie paused, "I could have. I was just too young and too afraid to be on my own.

  "I stopped talking with Troy, told him I didn't want to hear any more lies about my husband. I decided to just play the good wife role. I didn't allow myself to even think of the possibility that my husband, the father of the baby inside me, was capable of murdering his own father. I know that Jack's dad was a terrible man, and maybe he deserved to die. I don't know exactly how I feel about that, but I couldn't imagine what kind of person it took to kill another person, let alone your own father.

  "Over the years, I just became numb to everything. Jack and I drifted so far apart that I've become more comfortable when he's not around Robby and me. And I know," she said to Derek, her eyes filled with sorrow and embarrassment, "about Jack's other life in Portland. I know he may have a son, and I know about his girlfriend. I know just about everything about Jack except how to leave him. I feel that he left me the day after we said our vows."

  "Maggie," John said, "I am so sorry for everything you have been and are going through. You are a wonderful and kind person. And while I never advocate ending a marriage, I have to say that you deserve much, much better."

  "And so does Robby," she added. "Especially Robby."

  The mood at the table was sullen. Maggie's honest outpouring charted a new direction for the three. John and Derek both secretly, independently, made helping Maggie find the strength to leave Jack as much of a priority as discovering the truths behind Phillip and the murder of Ron White.

  "I'm sorry I dumped all that on you two," Maggie said.

  "Hey," Derek snapped, "we're a team. And just wait till I tell you my story. Talk about dumping emotions on people. Geez, you have no idea."

  A delicate smile played across Maggie's lips. She and Derek held a gaze for several seconds: both feeling the now familiar warmth they found in each other's eyes.

  "I don't know about you two, but I could sure use a drink about now," John said as he stood. "Maggie, if I may be so assumptive, where the hell do you keep your booze?"

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "I know you told us everything already," John said to Derek, "but I still have some questions about what you saw when you were walking the Marginal Way earlier."

  "You have questions?" Derek said. "Imagine now many questions I have."

  The three had been talking, laughing, thinking, and drinking for well over an hour. They were all exhausted, but none of them wanted their time together to end.

  "You said," John continued, "that you inspected the footprints towards the end of the Way and that they were shallower despite there being no remarkable change in the snow covering the path?"

  "I swear, it was like the person I was chasing starting to float the closer he got to the end of the path."

  "And you said that when you inspected the place where the man appeared, you didn't see any footprints leading to the spot you saw him. Like he just appeared in the spot you noticed him?"

  "Exactly," Derek said. "But honestly, it was dark out, all I had was a small flashlight, and I was in a fair amount of pain when I was looking for any footprints leading to the spot I saw him standing."

  "Did the person really look like Ron?" Maggie asked, her head tilted to the side and her eyes squinting with either curiosity or exhaustion,

  "Again, it was dark, and I wouldn't bet my life on the person I saw being Ron. I mean, especially since he had probably already been killed by the time I saw him. I heard sirens right before I saw whomever I saw. I have to believe those sirens were the police responding to the nursing home."

  Maggie and John fell silent, remembering Ron and struggling with the disbelief that he had been brutally murdered. Derek was angry with himself for seeing Ron's murder as little more than another twist to his case.

  "Guys," he said solemnly, "I'm
really sorry about Ron. And I'm sorry that I've been acting like Ron was just some random guy off the street who got murdered. I know he meant a lot to you both."

  "What if," Maggie said, without acknowledging Derek's apology, "what Robby has been seeing, what I heard and saw, and what you were chasing earlier," she nodded towards Derek, "were actually ghosts?" Maggie slid her hand across the table towards Derek's. When hers reached his, she gave a little squeeze and shot him a brief smile. "We both know you didn't mean to discount Ron's life or the friendship John and I had with him. You've been thrown into this whole thing and had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you told Jack and me that you'd give us two days to solve Robby's problem."

  "I'm still sorry, but, thanks for understanding."

  "I hate to say this," John said, "but if we assume that what you two and Robby have experienced are actually the results of spirits, things do fall into place fairly neatly. Except Ron's murder. I've never heard of a ghost killing someone."

  "Neither have I," Derek said quickly. "That's why I think that if we find out who killed Ron, a lot of other pieces to this puzzle will fall into place."

  "If the police think that you're a priest," Maggie said, a coy smile dancing across her face, "how in the world will you be able to get us all involved in the investigation?"

  "The four of us will have to conduct our own investigation. Maggie, Father, my friend Ralph and me. If we're a team now, we each need to understand our role in this investigation."

  "I feel like a double private investigator," John said. "What's my role?"

  "And mine, too?" Maggie added.

  "Maggie," Derek began, "if you can contact Ron's family, you could learn a lot about him. You already know them, I believe, so you calling them and offering help and comfort won't be a stretch for you or difficult for them to believe. Tell them that you want to help them with whatever planning they need to do. Ron said his family lives in Canada, which means that, most likely, they will want his body sent to Canada for services and burial. Not only is transporting a body across country borders a challenge, but also the murder investigation will cause some delays before that can happen. You let Ron's family know that you will do whatever you can to help them. I don't think I'm asking you to do anything that you wouldn't do without my suggestions, so your part in this is 99% just being your own kind self and 1% digging for information about Ron's life to see if there are any clues about why he was murdered."

  "Thanks for the compliment," Maggie said. "I was going to contact his wife tomorrow anyway."

  "Like I said," Derek continued, "I'm not asking you to do anything you wouldn't have done if you weren't part of this team."

  "And my part?" John asked, his excitement refusing to be tempered by his sorrow for Ron being killed.

  "Father, I think what you need to do is also something that you would probably do on your own as well. Tomorrow, go up to the nursing home and talk with as many residents and staff to see if anyone saw anything. I'm sure some people are not only emotionally upset that Ron was killed but also scared for their own safety. I'm sure the police have already started or will soon start interviewing everyone in the nursing home, but I have to believe that more people would be comfortable speaking with you than with a cop."

  "Funny," John said. "Like Maggie, I was going to do that exact thing tomorrow. I'll just add a few more questions to what I was planning to say to see what I can find."

  "And one more thing, Father. I need you to go there during the day, when there is plenty of sunlight."

  "Why's that?"

  "Hopefully, Ron's telescope is still on the porch and still focused to the spot it was when I looked through it. Take a good long look through the scope, and let Maggie and I know what you see and if you spot anything unusual. Look to see if you can see my footprints and the footprints of my surprise visitor. I also want to coordinate the timing with you. We'll decide on a time when you will be at the telescope, and I'll be at the spot I saw my visitor. We will communicate via cell phones. I want to make 100% sure I was standing in the same spot Ron's telescope was pointed."

  "I'll go with you, Derek," Maggie said. "Robby has school tomorrow, and we all know that my loving and devoted husband won't be around. Derek, I have Ron's home number in my phone. I'll call his wife, dig for information, then will meet you on the Marginal Way after I drop Robby off at school."

  "Sounds like we have ourselves a plan," John said.

  "We do," Derek said. "And Maggie, I hate to say this, but if Jack comes home tomorrow, we won't be able to meet here as a team to discuss our progress."

  "I know, and I also know that you suspect Jack in Ron's murder as well."

  "What makes you say that?" Derek asked.

  "Because Jack is an asshole who has already killed one person, in all likelihood. What's to say that he wouldn't do it again? Sorry for the harsh language, Father."

  "Don't worry. Jack is an asshole," John said, causing Maggie and Derek to stifle their laughter so as not to wake up Robby.

  "One last thing before we call it a night," Derek said. "Maggie, you told me when I first met with you and Jack here yesterday, that Ron's name and Father John's name were added to your list of suspects by Jack."

  "Yes," Maggie said, flashing an apologetic glanced towards John.

  "How insistent was Jack to have me interview Ron and John?"

  "Very insistent. Almost to the point of rage when I first objected. I was actually curious about why Jack seemed so nervous about what Ron and Father may have said to Robby. I couldn't understand his demanding that both Ron and Father be on our list of suspects."

  "I think that's a clue we need to follow."

  John glanced at this watch then slowly stood, his hands clenched in loose fists on the dining room table.

  "As much as I've enjoyed this evening with you both," he began, "we do have a lot to do tomorrow."

  "Agreed," Derek resigned. "Father, what time do you think you can make it up to the nursing home?"

  "I am meeting with a parishioner tomorrow morning at nine. I will head up after that. Say around 10:30?"

  "Perfect." Derek turned to Maggie. "I think it would raise fewer suspicions if you met me on the Marginal Way. I'll park in the lot at Ogunquit Beach, and you park on the other end of the Way in Perkins Cove. We'll meet at the spot I saw whatever I saw around 10:15."

  "And I should call you as soon as I feel I can get to the telescope?" John asked.

  "Yes. If you can plan on being at the telescope by 10:45, Maggie and I will have enough time to search the area. I checked the weather forecast, and they are expecting a pretty nasty storm to hit later in the day tomorrow but are not expecting any snow tonight or tomorrow morning, which means that the tracks should still be visible. Maggie, when you are walking up from Perkins Cove, take a close look at the tracks and look for anything I may have missed."

  "I think we have our plan ready to go," John said. "Then we have just one more thing to determine."

  "And that would be?"

  "The name of our little double secret private investigating firm."

  "How about 'The Holy Ghost Hunters?'" Derek suggested.

  "Clever, but a tad blasphemous," John retorted.

  "How about 'R and R?'" Maggie said.

  "For Robby and Ron?" John asked.

  "Exactly."

  "Then it's official," John said. "Tomorrow, the R and R Investigative Firm begins its first case."

  "Both of you need to promise me one thing," Derek said. "We have no idea what we're dealing with here. Promise me that you won't do anything that puts you in jeopardy. Agreed?"

  "Agreed, but, really, how much trouble can a priest and a photographer-turned-stay-at-home mom really get into?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Derek was exhausted when he finally got back to his hotel room. He tossed the notebook onto his bed, then retreated to the bathroom to shower, inspect his injuries, and prepare for bed. When finished, he climbed into the queen-s
ized bed, flicked on the lamp that sat on the nightstand, and then simply held the notebook in his hands.

  Derek knew that his effectiveness on a case was highly determined by how organized his thoughts were. As he lay in bed, he realized that, on this case, his thoughts were scattered, disconnected, and seldom stayed along the same line of thought.

  The moment he told Maggie and Jack that he would give them two days, his thoughts were simply to find out enough to satisfy his clients that their son, Robby, needed professional help. Derek wasn't closed minded and fully dismissive to the possibilities of ghosts actually existing, but he was much quicker to accept an emotional disorder than to invest time tracking down a spirit and formulating a strategy to convince or to persuade the spirit to "head for the light" and to leave Robby alone.

  His wife, Lucy, had taught Derek that being honest with yourself was just as important as being honest with others. He, like so many others, found it easy to deceive himself but knew that the deception would, eventually, demand a heavy toll. As he lay in bed, Derek admitted to himself that one of the reasons he gave the Bryants two days was for the chance to spend more time with Maggie. And the more time that he spent with Maggie, the more time he wanted to spend with Maggie.

  "She's married," he said to himself. "Doesn't matter that her husband is an unfaithful, lying, murderous son of a bitch. She's married."

  Derek smiled after he committed to himself that he would ignore whatever growing feelings he felt for Maggie. He knew that he would never be able to keep that commitment, no matter how hard he tried. As his smile slowly faded, he admitted to himself that he was more attracted to Maggie and to a possible relationship with her than he had been with any other woman since the passing of his wife.

  "Be honest," he said. "See what happens, but make damn sure nothing happens until things are resolved with her marriage. One way or another."

  Feeling somehow relieved, Derek's mind became instantly sharper, more focused. He flipped open the black and white patterned composition notebook of Ron White, and committed himself to skim through the pages.