Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries)

by J. B. Lynn

  Smoke didn't take his eyes off the road, "Don't take it personally. Bernie doesn't trust anyone."

  His tone implied he didn't want to discuss the subject further. After a moment, he said, "Thank you for making breakfast."

  "You're welcome."

  "I hope Halley didn't drive you too crazy,"

  "No, she's a doll."

  "What about last night?"

  "I met Angel."

  Smoke's sharp intake of breath signaled I'd made a mistake with that particular revelation. His voice cracked when he asked, "Angel?"

  I hurried to add, "And Halley gave me her pink elephant to keep me company through the night."

  "She shouldn't have done that." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  I got the impression he wasn't talking about the stuffed animal. Risking a quick glance at his face, I saw that his jaw was clenched. My stomach flip-flopped nervously. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was upset. "It was no big deal," I assured him.

  "You can't mention Angel to anyone, especially not Bernie."

  I wondered if he worried that people would think Halley was crazy if they found out she talked to imaginary friends/ghosts. "Okay."

  Stopping at a red light, Smoke threw the Jeep into park, twisted in his seat, and leaned toward me. "Promise me you won't ever mention Angel's name to anyone."

  I blinked. "Why not?"

  "Promise me!"

  I stared at him. He looked…panicked.

  "Okay. Okay. I promise."

  He sank back into his seat and closed his eyes. The car behind us honked when the light turned green. Smoke didn't react. "Smoke?" I asked tentatively.

  He opened his eyes, shifted the vehicle into gear, and started to drive without responding to me. We drove the rest of the way to the tire place in complete silence. He didn't even say anything when I got out and said, "Thanks for the ride."

  I wasn't sure if he'd even be there when I re-emerged having paid the bill for the replacement tires, but there he was, idling beside the Spring Cleaning van.

  I waved at him as I hurried over to it. His response was the briefest of nods. I wished I'd never opened my big mouth and mentioned Angel, but I'd been curious about the little girl.

  I drove over to the frat boy's house, Smoke tailing me, with the sinking feeling it was going to be a tough day.

  And that was before we unlocked the front door of the house.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  "Holy Hell."

  I tried to peer around Smoke to see what had elicited that reaction, but he pushed me behind him. "What—?

  "Shhh!" He quickly yanked the door shut, making sure not to make any noise doing so. "Go wait in the van." He shooed me away.

  I held my ground. "This is my job site. I have a right to know what's going on."

  "Somebody's been inside."

  "How do you know that? You couldn't even see past the foyer."

  Grabbing my upper arm, he marched me down the steps, across the street to the van.

  "Let go of me." I pulled free of his grip.

  "I'm trying to help you here, Tori."

  "By manhandling me?"

  "I wasn't—"

  "Yes you were. You practically dragged me over here like some kind of deranged caveman."

  "I didn't…they could still be inside. I was just trying to keep you safe, but as usual, you preferred to argue instead of doing what I asked."

  "They who?" I wanted to know.

  "Whoever trashed the place."

  I leaned back weakly against the van. "It's trashed?"

  He nodded. "Now will you stay here and let me go check it out?"

  "No."

  His eyes widened. "No?"

  I shook my head. "We're calling the police. The last thing you need is someone accusing you of tampering with the scene."

  He stared at me for a long moment, and I braced myself for another battle. Finally he said, "You're right."

  "That happens occasionally." I reached for my phone.

  Before I could dial, Smoke covered it with his hand. "If there's any way you can avoid telling them about Bernie…"

  "Why?"

  "Because I asked?"

  Yanking the phone away from him, I raised it to my ear. "You want me to lie to the police because you asked me to?"

  Spinning away, he rubbed the back of his neck, signaling his agitation. "I don't want you to lie to them…I'm just…requesting that you not bring it up unless you're directly asked."

  I hesitated.

  Turning around, he said quietly, "Please, Tori. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

  "I don't understand."

  "I wish I could explain, but I can't."

  I believed him. "Why?"

  "Would you believe me if I told you it was for your own protection?" He was so earnest, so desperate for me to have faith in him, that I did.

  "I still don't understand," I said slowly, "but I won't bring Bernie up."

  "Thank you."

  I never had to call the police because Detective Barbie pulled up in a late model Mercedes at that moment. "Hey, partner!"

  Once again, I saw that odd flicker of some emotion I couldn't put my finger on in Smoke's eyes. I wondered if maybe he was more hung up on her than she obviously was on him. The thought soured my stomach. Then he blinked, and whatever I'd glimpsed was gone.

  "Lacey!" He smiled at her.

  Considering that all he'd done for the past hour was frown at me for one thing or another, I thought the stab of jealousy I felt was perfectly reasonable.

  "Everything okay?" Lacey asked. "You two looked pretty intense."

  "We were just…" Smoke began.

  "Arguing about whether to call you," I said.

  "Me?" Lacey asked, surprised.

  "Not you specifically," I hurried to correct. "The police."

  She looked to Smoke for clarification.

  "Someone trashed it," he said, jutting his chin toward the house.

  That's when I noticed that Martin was out on the stoop alternately pointing at the detective and flashing those numbers with his fingers.

  "Hang on a sec." Lacey parked her car a bit farther down the street.

  I looked from him to the detective wondering why he only held up numbers when she was around. I looked at her license plate, but it didn't contain any numbers, just letters. WNDRWMN

  "This is Reed's case," I reminded Smoke as we waited for Wonder Woman to walk back to us.

  "And she's here," Smoke pointed out.

  "Convenient," I muttered.

  Smoke arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

  "Have you gone inside?" Lacey asked.

  "Opened the door, saw the damage, and backed out," Smoke said.

  "Okay. You and I will go in. Miss Spring you'll wait here," Lacey ordered. "Okay?"

  I didn't bother to answer. I just got into the van. If Martin wasn't signaling that there was someone inside the house, I didn't give a damn who went and checked it out. I expected the ghost to come try to talk to me, but instead he trailed after Smoke and Lacey.

  I pulled out my phone and called Detective Alan Reed. He'd treated Smoke fairly the day before, and I thought he deserved to be kept in the loop. I left him a message letting him know what was going on, including Detective Halperin's inspection of the place.

  I dove into my supply of black jelly beans while I waited for Smoke to return.

  Lacey was smiling when she and Smoke, with Martin hovering practically on top of them, came out of the house. Smoke's expression was grim. He looked at my bag of candy but wouldn't look me in the eye.

  I climbed out of the van and met them in the middle of the street. "How bad is it?"

  Smoke didn't answer.

  "It looks like some kids got inside and made a mess of it," Lacey said. "I'll write it up, but I wouldn't worry."

  "How bad?" I asked again.

  Smoke looked away.

  My stomach lurched nervously, and I stalked to
ward the house.

  "Wait!" Smoke called after me.

  I ignored him the way he'd ignored my question. I had to see what the damage was with my own eyes.

  I heard him say, "Thanks, Lacey."

  I'd reached the stairs when I heard his footsteps gaining on me. I rushed up the stairs and pushed the door open before he could catch up.

  Everything in the place had been overturned. Furniture, my equipment, and the boys' belongings were strewn together in a chaotic mess. I stumbled through the downstairs. Each room was worse than the last.

  A sinking feeling filled me. There was no way I'd be able to finish this job on time.

  Martin popped into the kitchen as I was eyeing the toppled refrigerator and the beer that had leaked all over the floor. Remembering how he'd slammed all the doors in the place when I'd told him I couldn't help him, I turned on him. "Did you do this?"

  He blinked his surprise.

  "Did you do this?" I shrieked, thoroughly fed up with men who didn't answer my questions. "Did you do this?"

  I was distantly aware that I sounded exactly like Mom had when Spot, the seeing-eye dog, had done his business right in the middle of her brand new white carpet…more than a little insane. I mean who else would have been stupid or brazen enough to shit on a rug?

  I glared at Martin waiting for an answer.

  He shook his head.

  Behind me, Smoke cleared his throat.

  I pretended he wasn't there.

  "Who are you talking to?"

  I ignored him.

  I heard him step closer, but I kept my gaze on Martin. "Did kids do this?"

  Martin shook his head.

  "That's what Lacey thinks," Smoke said from behind me.

  I turned on him. "And what do you think? Or do you just think what she tells you to?"

  He raised his hands defensively. "I understand you're upset."

  "You understand?" I shouted. "Look at this place. It's a disaster!"

  "We'll get this cleaned up."

  "It's so much. I'm so tired. I…" I trailed off, a lump rising in my throat. I spun away as my vision blurred with tears. I would have fallen, tripping over the debris on the floor, if Smoke hadn't caught me to him.

  "It's going to be okay," he whispered.

  It felt good to let him support me for a moment. It had been a long time since I'd had to anyone to lean on.

  "It wasn't kids," I whispered back.

  "I don't think so either."

  "Everything is such a mess." I pulled away. "The house. The job. The secrets."

  "What secrets?"

  "Your secrets!" I stared up at him, trying to find the answers I was looking for in his face. His gaze was stormy and conflicted. He opened his mouth and then closed it, as though he'd thought better of saying anything.

  Frustrated by his lack of communication, I shook my head.

  "I'm sorry. I can't…" he whispered.

  "You won't!"

  There was a long pause. For a moment, I hoped he might relent.

  Then he firmly put me away from him. "I'll help you clean this all up."

  "It's not this mess I'm worried about," I confessed. "I still have to figure out who killed the boys or why poor Martin was framed for it."

  "Are you out of your mind?" Smoke grabbed my arm and spun me around. "Your tires have been slashed, you've been threatened, and the place has been trashed. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

  He shook me as he spoke, as though he was trying to shake sense into me.

  "I have to do this," I said.

  "Why?"

  "Because his family needs to know what happened, and he deserves justice."

  "Knowing and 'justice' are highly overrated." The bitterness in his tone sent a chill through me. "They're not worth dying over."

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Martin hovering hopefully.

  "You don't understand," I whispered to Smoke. "I have to do this."

  "Because of your brother?"

  "Partly."

  He stared at me, worry lines creasing his forehead. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  "I don't need your blessing," I told him.

  "But you do need my help."

  "You're going to help me?"

  "On one condition."

  I couldn't help but smile as I saw Martin fist-pumping the air with pure joy.

  Smoke thought the smile was meant for him, so he smiled back at me. "You have to promise we'll do this my way."

  I nodded.

  "And that you won't argue with me about every step."

  "That's two conditions," I said.

  "No one likes a smart ass."

  "You do," I said with a wink.

  "So do we have a deal?" He extended his hand to shake.

  "Deal." I slipped my palm into his.

  You can tell a lot from a person's handshake. Smoke's was solid and warm, but he held onto my hand for too long for this to be a simple business arrangement. We were making some sort of commitment to each other that I couldn't quite name. I looked from our intertwined hands to his eyes and found him watching me as though he felt it too.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Detective Alan Reed drawled from the kitchen doorway, causing us to jump away from one another hastily. "But I thought I might actually work my case."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Reed didn't seem too happy that Detective Halperin had horned in on his investigation. I had to do some fast talking to explain that Smoke hadn't called, and she'd just shown up. He also didn't agree with her assessment that the damage had been done by kids.

  When he'd asked Smoke if he had an alibi for the night before, Smoke had told a half-truth, that he was home with his sister. I wasn't sure why he just didn't tell Alan that I'd been there too, but Smoke had shot me a warning look, and in keeping with our newly minted deal, I followed his lead and kept my mouth shut about my whereabouts.

  "Have you had any luck tracking down the fake brother?" Smoke asked.

  "Not yet. You haven't seen him again?"

  Smoke shook his head.

  "No more threatening phone calls?" Reed asked me.

  "Nope," I answered.

  "And you still can't think of enemies you've made?"

  An image of Cusak flashed through my mind, but I shook my head.

  "What about you, Barclay? You must have your fair share."

  Smoke shrugged. "All cops do. No one special comes to mind…though I did run into Cusak yesterday."

  Reed tapped his pen against his notebook, considering that tidbit of information. Finally he said, "No love lost between the two of you."

  "To put it mildly," Smoke agreed. "Hey do you happen to know whether he worked that case a little while back? Pretty blonde woman who went missing. Julie something, I think her name was."

  "Juliet," Alan said. "Juliet Rota."

  "You worked it?" Smoke asked.

  Alan nodded. "Frustrating case. The girl was never found. Why the questions about her? Do you think she was connected to the college kids?"

  "My fault. I was asking about her," I said.

  Reed raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

  I wanted to tell him she was dead, and that I knew who'd killed her, but I couldn't say that, so I went with a half-truth. "I read about the case." True. "And I was thinking how the parents of the boys and her parents will never know what happened to them." Not true, but it sounded pretty good.

  "Ah, I get it. You identify with them because of Jerry. I should have realized that."

  "What about Cusak?" Smoke interrupted. "Did he work the girl's case?"

  "He volunteered to lead one of the search parties," Reed replied.

  "Do you think she was a victim of foul play?" I asked.

  "I'm not supposed to comment on an open investigation," Reed said.

  "Oh," I said.

  "But yeah, that's what I think."

  "It would probably be helpful if you could find her body," I mused aloud, thinking
that the next time I saw Juliet, I'd have to ask her if she knew where her corporeal form was stashed.

  Reed chuckled. "You have a strange way of thinking, Vicky."

  "Well," I floundered. "I just meant…"

  "What she meant," Smoke inserted smoothly, "was that a body would bring some closure."

  I nodded gratefully.

  "And it might yield a suspect," Reed said.

  "Yoooohooo, Smokey Bear!" Shirley DiNunzio's voice drifted to us from the direction of the front door.

  Smoke groaned.

  "That's his crazy stalker chick," I whispered to Reed.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are," Shirley coaxed. "I brought you lunch."

  "It's probably a bowl of porridge," Reed joked. "I bet it's just right."

  I chuckled.

  Smoke leveled a death glare at the two of us. "I'll get rid of her." He stalked away.

  "In a completely legal way," Reed urged.

  Even Smoke chuckled at that.

  "Poor guy," Reed murmured. "I sure as hell wouldn't want Shirley infatuated with me."

  "You know her?" I asked.

  "Sure. Two local clean up companies. Each guy has his sister working for him. One is hot. One is not. She," he said, nodding his head in the direction Smoke had disappeared, "is not."

  I blinked. Had he told just told me I was hot?

  Two guys flirting with me on the same day? Had I taken on some kind of special glow since I'd started talking to so many ghosts? Or did they both have a thing for damsels in distress?

  "No!" we heard Shirley shriek.

  "I'd better go see if he needs a hand," Reed said. "She's a certifiable loon." He hurried outside.

  That left me alone in the kitchen with Martin. "Did you see who trashed this place?"

  He shook his head.

  "Do you know what they were looking for?"

  He nodded.

  "Did they find it?"

  He shrugged.

  I listened carefully. Shirley was still carrying on, and I could hear the calm, even tones of Smoke and Reed trying to reason with her.

  "Can you show me where it is?" I asked Martin,

  He nodded and beckoned for me to follow him. Making sure that Smoke and Alan didn't see me, I crept up the stairs. The devastation up there was just as bad as downstairs, and I felt sick to my stomach as I realized how long the clean-up job would now take.