by J. B. Lynn
"Do you want to play with us?" She waved her hand to encompass Martin who sat watching me.
Maybe I'd found someone more like me than I'd realized. "I…I'm not sure it's a three person game."
"That's true. Why is he missing his face? I asked him, but he doesn't have a mouth, so he can't tell me."
I couldn't very well tell this innocent that her playmate had been brutally murdered.
"There was an accident," I said slowly. "And he was hurt."
She nodded as though that made sense to her.
"It wasn't his fault." I was speaking to Martin now, offering up an apology. "I'm going to find out who did it to him."
Martin flattened his hand over his heart, pantomiming his thanks.
I nodded at him before turning my attention back to the woman before me. It was hard to guess how old she was, definitely not a teenager, older than that. "Can I help you somehow?"
"My brother told me to wait here for him."
"Here? On these steps?"
She nodded. "He's going to take me for Chinese food for lunch."
"That's nice. Do you want to call him?"
"Why?"
"So that we can tell him where you are."
"But he knows. He told me to wait here and play Angry Birds," she motioned to a cell phone discarded beside her. "But it was more fun to play with him." She pointed at Martin who raised his palms as though to say Guilty as charged.
"It's nice that you got to play together, but don't you think your brother might be worried about you?"
"No."
I scratched my forehead, feeling way out of my depth. "Maybe you should call him just to make sure."
"Okay."
I reached for her cell phone hoping that there was an In Case of Emergency number programmed into it.
The telephone had nothing on the woman's lungs as a means of communication. "Suh-Moke!" she shouted loudly enough to make my headache exponentially worse. "Suh-Moke!"
Spring Cleaning's employee raced out of the frat boy house. The unflappable man appeared panicked. "What's wrong?"
The woman pointed at me. "She said to call you."
"I meant with the phone," I said weakly, holding it up to prove my point.
"I see you've met my sister, Halley." Smoke marched down the stairs and put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "Halley, say hello to my boss, Ms. Spring."
"Hello." She gave me that wide open smile of hers again, and I couldn't help but smile back.
"Please call me, Vicky. You have a very pretty name."
"I'm named after a comet. Have you heard of it?"
I nodded.
"You must be really smart then."
I laughed. "No, my brother fancied himself to be an amateur astronomer, so he was always talking about comets and constellations and space stuff."
"Cool!"
"Ms. Spring and I have to work now, Halley." Smoke tenderly brushed the hair out of his sister's eyes.
"She said to call her Vicky."
I chuckled. At least one of them got my name right.
"We're going to work now," Smoke replied to his sister patiently. "You play Angry Birds, and when it's lunchtime we'll go have Chinese food."
"I want to play Rock, Paper, Scissors!"
He shrugged an apology at me. "I can't right now, Sweetheart."
"Not with you. With him!" She pointed at Martin.
Smoke sighed. "Okay, whatever you want." He tilted his head to indicate I should follow him inside.
"It was nice meeting you, Halley."
"Vicky?" Halley asked as I climbed the stairs.
"Yes?"
"Will you come to lunch with us?"
I looked to Smoke for guidance. He shrugged one shoulder, and his expression was unreadable. I was on my own with this one. "I'd like that."
"Me too!" Halley sat back down and patted the step beside her so that Martin would join her.
Smoke closed the door. "I'm really sorry about that. It's her day off, and the assisted living place where she lives is spraying for bed bugs. I didn't want her to be exposed to those chemicals, so I've had her staying at my place, but my neighbor who keeps an eye on her for me is away on vacation. She won't get in the way. I promise."
"It's okay," I hurried to assure him.
"Really?" He watched me carefully.
I gritted my teeth, wondering what the hell made him think I wouldn't be understanding of him taking care of his disabled sister. Was I that difficult to deal with? "Sure. Why don't you take the day off? I can handle things here."
He shook his head. "And leave you here alone? No way."
"I feel badly about her sitting out there."
"Don't. She spends as much time as possible outdoors, and she can keep herself entertained for hours playing with her imaginary friend."
"Does she do that often? Play with imaginary friends?"
He nodded.
"Has she done it her whole life? Or did she have some sort of accident and then start seeing them?" I was trying to figure out how she was able to see ghosts.
If Smoke thought my questions were odd, he didn't let on. "Her whole life. Sometimes I'm jealous that she never seems to feel alone."
"Do you have any other family in the area?"
"No. It's just her and me. Has been for a long time." A strange expression crossed over his face, but he quickly covered it. "Ready to get to work?"
I nodded, thinking that the ghosts weren't the only ones I'd like to figure out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
For the first time, Smoke hadn't helped me unload and reload the van at the end of the day. I'd insisted that he take his sister home instead. How quickly I'd forgotten what a tedious task it could be on my own.
Delia hadn't help matters any. She'd perched on the bumper of the van, worrying the collar of her black turtleneck, and asking a million questions about Halley's ability to see ghosts. It was my own fault, really, because the moment I'd gotten home I'd run inside to tell Delia all about it.
I'd finally finished work for the day and was taking the leftover lasagna, out of the fridge when there was a knock at my back door.
I groaned. "What's with all the unannounced visitors?"
Last night Venus and Detective Reed had shown up. I was pretty sure whoever was outside now was someone I'd rather not see. I yanked it open to tell whoever it was to leave me the hell alone.
"Hey, Vicky." Mike stood on my doorstep holding a bag from Five Guys burgers.
The heavenly smell made me forget my outrage.
"Mind if I come in?" he asked.
I looked from the greasy bag to his immaculate Italian suit. "Let me take that for you."
"Thanks."
Carrying the bag, I led the way into the kitchen.
"I love what you've done with the place," he drawled as he looked around.
"Home, sweet home." I quickly pulled out paper plates, napkins, and bottles of water. He hadn't dropped by for an impromptu dinner party in a long time. When Jerry had been around, he'd eaten here at least once a week. I was glad for his company, but I wondered why he was here now.
"What brings you by?" I asked, after he'd handed me a burger, I'd ripped the wrapper off, and sunk my teeth into the beefy goodness.
He waved his hand at the surroundings.
"Is there a problem with the lease?" I asked hopefully. Mike might be a big time corporate lawyer, but he handled all of Spring Cleaning and Jerry's legal business.
He shook his head. "How are you, Vicky?"
I crammed a handful of French fries into my mouth, so couldn't answer aloud. I gave him my most eloquent shrug.
"I'm worried about you."
I swallowed a mouthful of crispy potatoes. "No need."
"I'm not the only one."
"What do you mean?"
"I talked to Venus. She said you seemed distracted."
I waved it off. "Just tired. You know, Vee, she just breezes in and expects you to drop everything." I figured
I didn't have to explain too much about the whirlwind his ex-girlfriend could be.
Mike nodded but didn't look convinced. "This place looks like it should be condemned."
"It's not that bad. I'm just behind on the maintenance."
"Because of the hours you're working?"
I nodded, taking another bite of burger. Well, that and the fact the place was haunted.
"Is Smoke working out?"
I held up a finger, wiped my chin, and then replied. "He's a big help. Thanks for sending him my way."
"No problem." Mike leaned closer to me. "Is everything else okay with you, Vicky?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Because Jerry asked me to keep an eye on you, and I'm not sure I've done such a good job at it."
Ah, that explained why he'd shown up on my doorstep. "One: I'm a grown woman, and don't need looking after. Two: When Jerry asked you to do that, he expected to be gone for months, not years."
"So you think he's just gone?" Mike asked.
I put down my burger and noticed that Mike hadn't even touched his. My heart started to pound, and a chill spread through me. "Do you know something I don't? Did someone contact you because you're the executor of his estate?"
"No, no." Mike hurried to assure me. "I just meant…I just meant…I know your parents don't want to think he's dead, but…"
"But it's been too long," I whispered.
He nodded. "Are you thinking he's dead or just gone?"
I sighed. This was the question I wrestled with every day. Part of me knew he'd been gone too long to still be alive, but another part of me thought that if he was dead, he'd have found a way to make contact with me. After all, I talked with dead people all the time. "I don't know."
"You know," Mike said, using those incredible attorney argument skills he employed to the tune of big bucks, "when Jerry asked you to keep Spring Cleaning going without him, he also thought that would be for a few months, not years."
"Touché," I acquiesced through a mouthful of burger goodness.
"I'm really worried about you, Vicky. I think this is too much for you. I think you should quit."
"So what's this, your idea of an intervention?"
He shrugged. "Somebody had to say something to you. You've lost all perspective. It's consuming you."
"Your concern is duly noted, counselor." I hoped that would put an end to this particular line of conversation.
"I'm serious, Vicky. You only took this job because things didn't work out with Kerr."
I lost my appetite at the mention of my former fiancée. He was right. If I'd listened to Mike's advice to stay away from Raymond Kerr, I would have never gone to work for Jerry. It wasn't that things hadn't worked out with him "Things" had gone terribly wrong. Not that I'd ever told anyone. I'd gotten myself into the mess and gotten myself out.
I put down my burger, which now held the appeal of a bar of soap, and looked Mike in the eye. "I appreciate it, Mike. I really do. But I'm fine."
Mike frowned at me, finally took a bite of his burger, and asked, "So how did Venus look?"
* * *
My conversation with Mike was still weighing heavily on my mind when I got to the frat boy house the next morning. The fact that somebody else besides me thought that maybe I should quit this soul-sucking job made it sound that much more doable.
Until I saw the monkeys.
They were sitting on the stoop behind Smoke who sat on the bottom step reading the paper.
Each boy covered his individual wound. Buck covered his eyes, Donny covered his ears, and Martin had a hand clapped over his mouth.
"See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil," I muttered.
Smoke eyed me suspiciously as he got to his feet and folded his paper. "You okay?"
"Apparently that's debatable." I climbed the stairs but stopped at the top, unwilling to step onto the landing and through the boys. "Where's Halley?"
"At work."
I glared at the boys who could see me, willing them to move, but Martin and Donny just shook their heads in tandem.
"You sure you're okay?" Smoke asked from behind me.
"I don't think Martin Nottoway killed his friends," I blurted out.
Apparently that was the magic passcode because Martin grabbed the two others and they all disappeared.
Smoke sighed. "I told you, all parents think their kids aren't capable of committing crimes."
Stepping onto the stoop, I unlocked the door and walked inside. It no longer smelled like blood. "It's not just them. I've heard things."
"Heard things?"
"More than one person has told me they don't think he did it."
"Like who?"
I couldn't very well tell him a ghost of one of the dead kids or Megan, so I shrugged.
"Let the police do their job and figure this out."
Ignoring him, I pulled on a suit.
"Victoria?"
"I'm going to fire you the next time you call me that," I warned.
He stepped in front of me, crossed his arms over his chest, and leveled his sternest look at me. "I'm serious. You can't be poking your nose into this thing. It isn't safe."
"You could help me."
A muscle jumped in his cheek. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I can't interfere with a police investigation. It would jeopardize any chance I've got of getting my job back."
"Don't think of it as interference. Think of it as assistance," I suggested, but I knew from his tone that his mind was already made up. He wouldn't be helping me. I'd have to figure out this whole mess by myself.
"Promise me you won't look into this."
"No."
"No?"
"I don't make promises I don't intend to try to keep."
Smoke rubbed the back of his neck as though my declaration had caused him a sudden pain. "Why do you care so much?"
I considered giving him a flippant answer but for some reason decided to tell him the truth. "The look on the Nottoway's faces. The 'not knowing' for sure one way or the other. I know what that's done to my parents. I know how they've suffered wondering whether Jerry is alive or dead. Wanting…needing to know what happened to him. The Nottoways deserve closure. If Martin didn't kill those boys and himself, they need to know that. They deserve that peace."
"You bust your butt day in and day out doing a job you hate because it was your brother's dream, and you talk about the effect it's had on your parents? What about you? Giving these strangers answers isn't going to answer any of the questions you have."
I swallowed hard. "I know that, but there's nothing I can do about Jerry, and there's something I can do for these people. Can't you see that I have to do it?"
He never got to answer me because there was a knock at the door.
"Grand freaking Central," he muttered before going to answer it.
"Hey, Partner," drifted into the house.
I didn't bother to go greet Detective Barbie. Instead I eavesdropped on their conversation.
"Hi, Lacey. What's up?"
"Just wanted to check in. See how everything's going."
"Nice and quiet."
"No more attacks on Miss Spring?"
"Nope. Everything's fine."
"You okay? You seem tense."
"I'm fine." Smoke's response was so cold it raised goose bumps on my arm.
At least that's what I thought until I realized Martin had joined me and was pointing in the direction of the foyer.
"What?" I whispered.
He kept pointing. Then he started holding up his fingers to indicate numbers again.
"I don't understand," I whispered.
He kept flashing numbers.
"What don't you understand?" Smoke asked from behind me.
I closed my eyes and barely suppressed a groan. He'd caught me talking to a ghost, which meant to him it appeared that I was talking to myself. I had no choice but to go on the offensive. "I don't understand why you won't help me."
&nb
sp; "I told you—"
"You told me that you don't want to do anything that could endanger you getting your job back, but here's the thing I don't understand: I looked up your using excessive force case, and you know what I found."
His mouth compressed into a hard line.
"According to what I read, you took a plea deal and left the department. If you were so damn determined to keep your job, why did you do that?"
"I was framed."
"Then why not go to trial and prove your innocence? Prove your innocence, save your job. It seems pretty straightforward to me."
"I couldn't." The strain in his voice revealed just how hard he was fighting to keep his anger in check.
"Why not?"
"I couldn't risk a trial."
"Because you did it? Because you know you caused that man's death?" In hindsight I realized that badgering a guy who supposedly had a deadly temper wasn't the brightest of ideas.
"Because I had more to lose than just the job!" he shouted.
I took a step back in case he decided to lash out physically too.
Something in his eyes dimmed as he watched my movement, and he hung his head as though he were ashamed of his reaction. He sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and dragged his hand down his face. "Forget it," he said so quietly it scared me. "You're right. I'm just a selfish bastard with a bad temper."
He spun on his heel and left the room. A moment later the front door clicked closed.
"That went well," I said to Martin who'd watched the whole exchange.
The murderous look he gave me sent a chill down my spine.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Hey, Crazy Lady, are you here?"
I didn't answer at first. I'd been alone in the house for hours, ever since Smoke had stormed out, and Martin had thrown up his hands in disgust before disappearing. I'd liked being alone. It had made me much more efficient at getting the work I was getting paid to do, done.
Now Buck, stumbling around like a blind zombie, was trying to find me. I considered not answering him and staying really, really quiet since I really, really wasn't pleased with having the Crazy Lady moniker bestowed on me.
"Crazy Lady, come out, come out wherever you are?" Buck cajoled like I was a cat stuck in a tree.
"What?"
Buck jumped, but to his credit, he didn't fall through any walls this time. "Donny says you're trying to help us. Is that true?"