Dark Passing (The Ella Reynolds Series)

by Liz Schulte

  “Jesus, Fagan. How about you stop worrying about yourself and your career—”

  “El.” Gabriel’s voice had a warning edge, and Fagan looked like he wanted to strangle me. I didn’t apologize. I wasn’t sorry. He should care more about the girls and Alfie than himself. It was his duty.

  “I’ll send a patrol car over to secure the location; then I’ll head over there after I meet with the Lauries again. Now, I really have to go.” He got in his car. “Keep me in the loop,” he said as he shut the door.

  We watched him drive away, and I looked at Gabriel. “I’m right, you know.”

  “Yes, fine, you’re right.” He quirked an eyebrow. “But Fagan’s in a bad position. He made mistakes. Everyone does—even you. He’s trying to make it right.”

  “He’s trying to cover his ass.”

  He shrugged and nodded toward the door. “You wanted to talk to Deanna?”

  We went back inside and found Deanna in her usual position. She eyed me warily. “I can’t talk to you,” she said.

  “Sure you can.” Gabriel flashed her a charming smile. “We already know about Horton’s.”

  She looked down, biting her lip. “How do you know about that?”

  “It doesn’t matter how we know. Did Mary talk to you about Wil—” Gabriel elbowed me and gave a pointed look around the room. “Um, the person she was with?”

  “Mary liked him, but she wasn’t in love with him. She had plans.”

  “Then why was she with him?” Gabriel asked.

  “I don’t know. I never asked and she didn’t say, but she wasn’t looking to be tied down. Her plans to leave as soon as she graduated never wavered, as far as I know.”

  “Were you at Alfie’s field party the night Mary was taken?”

  Her face blanched. “What have you heard?”

  “I’d rather hear about it from you,” I tried.

  “Damn it,” she muttered. “Just a second.” She stood up and disappeared behind the door. A moment later, she returned with a young man in uniform. “See you in 15 minutes,” she told him and grabbed her purse out from under the desk.

  We walked outside with her and she went straight to the ashtray in the front, digging through her purse. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes with shaking hands. I glanced at Gabriel and wondered if he missed smoking. When I stopped drinking because he didn’t like it, I made him stop smoking because I didn’t like it. His eyes never even flickered to the cigarette. Obviously, his willpower was better than my own.

  “I’m not saying anything until you tell me what you know,” Deanna said,

  Gabriel and I exchanged a look, and he shrugged, so I told the truth. “I bluffed. I haven’t heard anything about you. I wasn’t even sure you were there ‘til now.”

  She frowned and took a long drag. “Holy crap, don’t do that. Everything bad I’ve ever done just passed before my eyes.”

  “Sorry. Look, we know about Lakota getting kicked out and Nikki staying until the wee hours of the morning. Can you remember anything noteworthy that happened? Or anything more than what we know?”

  “I didn’t hang around with Lakota and Nikki. The guy I was seeing at the time was in Alfie’s fraternity, so we were pretty much hanging around him, making fun of the locals.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m a hypocrite.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Pretty much. Alfie kept calling someone, and she wasn’t answering. He was pissy as hell.”

  “How do you know it was a girl?” Gabriel asked.

  “I can’t imagine he’d be that ticked about a guy.” She laughed. “Mike said he’d been hung up on some girl for ages, but couldn’t get her to give him the time of day.”

  “Do you know who she was?” Gabriel asked.

  “No clue. Anyway, Lakota stumbled into Alfie and spilled beer all over his phone. He flipped out and made her leave. She said she didn’t have a ride, and he said that wasn’t his problem. He sulked, generally being a drag, and then Nikki came over and asked if I’d seen Mary. I said no, she’d never come to a field party when she could hang out at Horton’s with Buddy, pretending to be important. When I turned back to the group, Alfie was gone. I didn’t see him again for a couple hours. I figured maybe that girl finally called him back.”

  “Could you call Mike and find out who he liked?” I asked. She shrugged, pulling out her phone.

  “What does this have to do with Mary?” Her fingers hovered over the keys.

  “We’re trying to put the pieces of that night together.” I wasn’t entirely certain what I hoped to find out, but I wanted to know everything that happened before she disappeared.

  “Why?”

  “Mary, Lakota, and Nikki are all dead, and it started with Mary. Something happened that night that connects them all.”

  She dialed and the conversation was quick. She didn’t have to say anything. The look on her face told me who Alfie had a crush on. Mary.

  ****

  We sat outside the barn, waiting for Fagan to get there and clear us to go in. The wind howled and pounded at the car as the sky turned an angry gray. I frowned at the impending snow, sick of winter. The case swirled in my mind. They were all at the party. Alfie was trying to call Mary over and over again. Then maybe he heard Deanna’s comment about “Buddy.” And maybe he knew where his dad liked to drink, and in that moment everything clicked and he snapped.

  But if he was the killer, he knew she was in Jackson that night and not Smithton like Deanna suggested because he waited for her on the road to her mother’s house. And the actual murder was too planned to be the action of a random revelation and a fit of rage. Maybe Mary answered one of his frequent calls days earlier and told him she was seeing someone else, and that’s why he was already “pissy,” as Deanna called it. Then he’d have had time to plan…

  “We shouldn’t have turned the diary over before reading it,” I grumbled at Gabriel.

  “We needed to preserve the evidence,” he said patiently.

  “When can we get it back? And when are we going to get the Laurie’s financial records and do the van and property search?”

  “We can pick up the diary today. I agree with Fagan that in light of the possible kidnapping, it wouldn’t hurt to wait on the financials for a couple days. The other search shouldn’t be too hard to get. What you really need are the cell phone records for Mary, Alfie, and William for the 12th.”

  “He wouldn’t get a warrant for the Laurie’s bank. Do you really think he’ll get one for the phone?”

  “Probably not, but Mary’s should be in the files.”

  “It isn’t. I’ve gone through those boxes at least three times.”

  Gabriel sighed. “Fagan makes it very hard to like him.”

  “Welcome to the dark the side.” I laughed, easing some of the tension that had been building all day. “Do you have any new theories about what happened yet?”

  “Several. But I’m not confident in any of them. It isn’t looking good for Alfie, but I don’t think his mother or father are in the clear yet, either. However, it could also be someone else entirely. Too many variables are still up in the air. Who would have known when Mary was leaving Bryan’s? Who had motive to not just kill her, but to torture her? We know why Lakota was killed; the killer was worried she’d remembered something, but who knew she’d spoken with you? And how does Nikki fit into all of this?”

  “We need to find Alfie.”

  “Any ideas?”

  I shook my head. Fagan’s car crept up the snow-covered lane and parked on the flat area behind us. He tapped on Gabriel’s window and waved for us to follow him to the barn. We hiked in behind him. The barn groaned under the relentless wind, and the smell of dirt and hay mixed with old blood stuck in my throat and made me want to turn around and leave. Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold covered my body. I stopped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I had to pull myself together. The too familiar feeling of staring eyes made my heartbeat quicken. I forced
my eyes open, to find no one was looking at me. All the forensic investigators were photographing and collecting evidence, and Fagan and Gabriel were studying the table. I let my eyes slowly travel the room, searching out my discomfort. And found it. An old man in overalls and a white T-shirt stood in the loft, staring down at me. I was about to call out to him when his face finally registered. His eyes were no more than crimson pools of blood slowly leaking down his cheeks and into his white beard. Everything around me faded. I could hear the blood dripping from the ends of his beard to the wood-planked floor. Drip, drip, drip. I couldn’t break his gruesome gaze, but my skin crawled as if trying to get away.

  Gabriel stepped between me and the dead farmer, breaking the trance. “El?” He glanced to where I was looking, but didn’t see him. “You okay?”

  “Um, yeah. Fine. Sorry. What were you saying?”

  He gave me an odd look, but led me by the elbow to the table. I couldn’t help glancing back up. The man’s hollowed out eyes followed me, and the loft’s floorboards creaked under his weight. It was like he knew I could see him. My stomach twisted, but I forced my attention on Gabriel. He’s not real; he can’t hurt me became my mantra.

  “They’re testing the blood around the table, but the tools, chemicals, and salts suggest taxidermy,” Gabriel said. “Although there’s a chipper in back, too. The forensic team‘s swabbing it as well.”

  “Okay,” I said around the lump in my throat that was threatening to expel itself from my body.

  Gabriel’s eyebrows pulled together. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He tilted my face up to look toward him.

  I moved away. I didn’t need to be inspected. “The smell’s giving me a headache. I’m going outside.” I left before anyone could question me, and I heard the old man’s heavy footsteps above me, following me as I left. The moment I stepped outside, relief flooded me. I even welcomed the cold wind against my hot, suffocating skin. I tugged at my royal blue scarf, until it came undone and I could breathe. I was leaned forward, palms planted on my knees to steady myself, when footsteps crunched behind me. I recognized Gabriel’s boots, but it was the jingle of keys made me look up.

  “It’s too cold to stand outside,” he said. Worry filled his eyes, but thankfully he didn’t ask if I was okay again.

  I straightened and took the keys, nodding.

  “I’m going back in…” He waited for me to object, but I wanted to be alone. “I’m right in there if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered. I knew he was watching me, so I trudged along with my head up until I was safely back in his car. After resting my forehead on my knees for a few minutes, I felt better. Confused but better.

  This medium shit was for the birds.

  Gabriel didn’t say much on the drive home and neither did I. After I locked the door and hung up my coat and scarf, he spoke. “You don’t have any questions? You had nothing but questions before we went in.”

  Questions? I had a ton of questions. Why was I seeing ghosts? I was just getting used to feeling them. I didn’t need to see their gruesome faces and black eyes. I wondered why Grant looked normal. I looked up, trying to appear innocent and question free.

  His frown deepened. “What the hell happened there, El? You haven’t asked about the diary, Fagan, or even said a word.”

  The case. Right. Crap, I was dropping the ball. Snap out of it, I commanded myself. “You’re right. Are you going to get the diary?”

  He rolled his shoulders as he scrutinized me. “Will you talk about this when I get back?”

  “It’s just a migraine that hit suddenly. I’ll lie down and we can talk about everything when you get back.”

  He didn’t look fooled, but he left. I deposited myself onto the couch, leaned back, and closed my eyes. “Grant,” I growled. “Your transparent ass better start answering some questions.”

  After a few minutes, just when I was starting to relax, I felt the couch indent next to me. “Not that I don’t enjoy having someone to talk to, but you could ask nicely,” Grant said.

  “Why can I see ghosts?”

  “You’ve seen more than just me?”

  “Yes.” I explained the situation in the barn to him.

  “Hmm, curious.”

  “Curious? That’s it? What do you mean ‘curious’?” I was on the verge of hysteria. I needed more than idle curiosity from him.

  Grant stretched his arms out across the back of the couch. “Why do you think I can tell you anything?”

  “I never saw ghosts before you. What did you do to me?”

  “Well—I—hmmm.” Grant stared at me. Then he leaned in close and peered into my eyes. “Open your eyes wide. And your mouth… Hmmm, yes, just as I suspected.”

  “What?”

  “Ghostititus.” I pursed my lips and he laughed. “Ella, I’m dead, have been for a long time. I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Then why did I see that awful farmer? Why do you look normal, when he had blood pouring out of his eyes?”

  “He probably died more violently than I did.” Grant patted his chest. “You’re obviously sensitive to us. Daniel never noticed us at all. Maybe the more you interact, the more you hone your skills. At first, you couldn’t see me either. It took a while. Perhaps my pushing the connection, or maybe since your mind retreated into itself to such an alarming degree, you were opened to this world.”

  “Well, that’s… that’s just fantastic.” I threw my arm over my forehead and groaned. As if my sanity wasn’t already fragile enough.

  “I’m sensing you aren’t happy about this.”

  “Really? How astute.”

  “A lot of people would love to have your talents. Folks pretend to see us all the time. You actually can.”

  “Can Gabriel see you? If he walked in right now, could he see you?”

  “Could he see the man in the barn?”

  “No.”

  Grant lifted his hands. “Why does it matter? You worried about us scaring him off when he moves in.”

  “Who said he’s moving in? He wants me to sell.”

  Grant frowned, but before he could respond, the front door opened. Grant stood up and waved. Gabriel didn’t even blink, just sat the diary on the entry table and stepped into the living room.

  “I don’t think he can see me,” Grant said conversationally.

  Gabriel’s face twitched, and he looked around the room with an odd expression on his face. “Did you hear something?” he asked.

  I shook my head, trying not to smile.

  “Well, are you satisfied? Can I go?” Grant turned back to me at the same time Gabriel said, “Are you ready to talk?”

  I stared at the spot between them with no idea who to answer, then wanted to giggle madly.

  “Yes,” I said, then repeated myself. “Yes.” How appropriate. The same word worked for both of them.

  Gabriel didn’t look at all relieved by my announcement.

  “Seriously, Gabriel, it’s nothing. Why are you so anxious to talk about a migraine?”

  Grant sighed and faded into the air.

  “I’ve seen that look before. You were scared,” Gabriel said, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the spot Grant had just departed from. Then he waved his hand through the air. “I swear I felt a draft,” he muttered.

  I shook my head. “Can we just talk about the case, please?”

  We faced off and his cheek twitched. I could practically see the wheels turning, but he was inscrutable as ever. I expected him to push the issue, interrogate me, but my phone rang. I held up a hand to stay the inevitable argument and answered.

  “Ella, it’s Lola.” She sounded tired and deflated. The natural strength and poise of her tone teetering near collapse.

  Different responses bubbled into my mind. How are you? Have you heard from Alfie? Did you know your husband was cheating on you? Did Alfie? What did you do? But all I managed was, “Hi.”

  “I take it you’ve heard?”

  “Th
at Alfie’s missing? Yes. Have you learned anything new?”

  “Nothing. Not a damn thing. Do you think, is it possible that, you know… like Mary?”

  For the time being, she didn’t need to hear what I really thought. “No, I don’t think it’s like Mary. Alfie doesn’t fit the profile.”

  “Then where is he? If he was kidnapped, why was there no ransom request?”

  “I don’t know. Is it possible he’s hiding?”

  “He would’ve called me. I’m his mother.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he would’ve called, maybe not. The questions I wanted to ask, needed to ask, would be inappropriate and insensitive. I glanced at Gabriel and mouthed “Lola” at him. He nodded. “Hopefully, you’ll hear something soon,” I said lamely.

  “I know you’re looking for Mary’s killer, but please help find my son. Mary’s dead; Alfie might not be. Please.”

  “Fagan will—”

  “No. He didn’t save any of them or find the killer. It’s his fault that madman is still free.”

  “I’ll do what I can but—”

  “That’s all I ask for. Thank you.” She sniffled.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow to talk to you. Get some rest.”

  I tossed the phone to the other side of the couch. Today just kept getting better and better. Already I had one case I could barely keep up with, now I saw ghosts and had a stupid kid to find. “Can we please talk about the case?” I said again.

  “If that’s what you want,” he said.

  I let out a slow breath and retrieved the diary. “What’s the status on Fagan’s end of things?”

  “He said he’s taking care of it.”

  “And he’s looking into who owns that farm property?”

  “He said it was willed to a university, but they haven’t done anything with it. What did Lola want?”

  “Me to find Alfie. She doesn’t have faith in Fagan.”

  Gabriel ran his hand through his hair.

  “Look, if the killer has Alfie, it’s not a distraction. It’s more of a two-birds-one-stone sort of deal. And if the killer doesn’t have him, it doesn’t change the fact that Alfie’s still at the top of our list of people to talk to, right?” I reasoned aloud.