by Liz Schulte
“I’ll help you find Alfie if you tell me what happened at the barn today. What scared you?”
So he wasn’t going to let this go, but I still didn’t want to tell him. He still doubted ghosts; he made that clear. He helped me, perhaps humored me, but would never fully accept what I saw, accept me.
“I’m waiting.”
I looked into his earnest eyes and forced myself to trust him. It was contrary to every one of my preservation instincts, but it was also time. If we were truly going to be together, he had to know who I really was. “I saw a ghost.”
A smiled tugged at his lips. “You’re serious?”
I gave him an impatient look. We weren’t off to a good start. “Yes—a farmer in the loft that none of the rest of you could see. No, I’m not crazy. He was there. I can see ghosts.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “That’s why you asked me about mediums the other day?” I nodded. “What exactly happened?”
I plunged in. “A man with blood pouring from his eyes, staring at me from the loft.”
Gabriel’s face morphed from soft and understanding to rigid with shock and confusion. “You saw what?”
“An old man in overalls, with a white beard. His eyes were horrifically damaged, dripping blood down his face, onto the floor…” My voice faltered. “And wherever I moved, he followed.”
Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not possible,” he muttered, and my heart sank.
“That’s what I saw.” I braced myself for the “Ella, you should drop the case. You’re under too much stress. You need a good night’s rest. Maybe go back to therapy” speech.
Gabriel’s mouth fell open. “Fagan told me a story about that barn while you were in the car. It was owned by a man named Silas Bede, a taxidermist. Silas was known for being cruel. He‘d beat his wife and child within an inch of their lives, always promising that if his wife ever left, he’d find her and kill her.” I winced and Gabriel nodded, looking equally upset. “Then one day his wife took her blood thinners and crushed all the pills into the morning coffee he always took with him to the barn. He died there alone—from massive internal bleeding.”
I stared.
“Had you heard the story?”
I shook my head. “What happened to his wife and child?”
“I don’t know. Fagan didn’t say.”
I clicked my teeth. I wanted to know. Seeing that man scared me, but now I wanted to know everything. I could call Fagan. He’d ask why I wanted to know, and I wasn’t sharing this with him. “So you believe me?”
He wrapped his arm around me. “Of course I believe you.” He kissed my temple. “I may not always agree with you, but I’ll always believe what you tell me. I take it this isn’t the first one you’ve seen.”
“Well, there’s Grant. He was here when you came in.”
“Right.”
“And I think I’ve been hearing Mary’s voice asking for help.”
Gabriel let out a long breath and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with this. Doesn’t it freak you out?”
“The man at the barn did. He was threatening, but Grant doesn’t. He’s a… friend.”
“So strange,” Gabriel said under his breath. “Maybe there’s someone we can talk to that knows about this stuff. I honestly always thought it was a load of crap.”
“So did I.”
“So you haven’t always, you know…?”
“Seen ghosts? No. I felt things in this house, the moment we moved in, but Grant was the first ghost I ever saw. Anyway, we don’t have to worry about all that now.” I figured he’d had about all he could take on ghosts, so I changed the subject back to his comfort zone. “What do you think about Alfie?”
His body eased. “I think you should let Fagan handle it and focus on Mary. Like you said, if they’re connected, you’ll find him when you find the killer. You’re further along in her case, and you have solid leads. Don’t get distracted.”
“But—”
“One case at a time, Sherlock.”
He was probably right. I sighed. “Well, at least this clears Lola.”
“Does it? It’s pretty convenient she calls you, begging you to look for her son, though you aren’t a police officer or even a private detective, just when we make real strides in Mary’s case. What business do you have looking into a possible kidnapping? And, no offense, what skills would you have for it?”
I nodded—and wasn’t offended in the slightest.
“And with her and William’s connections, if they really wanted the FBI involved, all it would take is a phone call to go over Fagan’s head. She or Alfie could be the killer and just buying time with this. My money’s on him being just fine when we find him.”
I hadn’t thought of any of that. Damn. Lola and Alfie could very well be in cahoots. “I won’t look into Alfie yet, but I did tell her I’d come by tomorrow. I doubt she’ll be at the gala, so I’m going to ask her about William.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Look, if she knew, we’ll be able to tell based on her reaction to my questions, right? And if she doesn’t know, she deserves to.”
“No one likes the messenger,” Gabriel warned.
“No, Lola’s proud and independent. Regardless of how this case comes out, she’ll find out about William, and I know she’d rather be prepared than blindsided.”
“But if she is involved, you’re tilting our hand—and making some fairly powerful enemies.”
I shrugged. “What are they going to do, fire me? It isn’t like I’m getting paid or working for them. After this case is over, I won’t be hanging out in Jackson. Who cares if they hate me? Fagan might have to kowtow to the powers that be, but I don’t.”
He chuckled. “I think you enjoy being a wild card.”
“I hate self-important people. They may have bigger houses and more money, but they’re no different than anyone else. They shouldn’t be treated differently.”
“It’s your case.”
I lifted the knocker on the huge double doors. Informing a woman I just met, whose son was currently missing, that her husband had cheated on her with a dead girl wasn’t my idea of a great way to start the morning, but it had to be done. I steeled my spine against last minute jitters and tightened my jaw. I’d want to know. I knocked firmly, Gabriel stoically beside me, his hands behind his back.
Fagan opened the door. He blinked and a stern look darkened his face. He hadn’t shaven in a couple days, which roughened his too-wholesome face just enough to make him interesting. What exactly was his story anyway? “What are you doing here?” he hissed.
I pushed a smile onto my face. “Lola invited me.” I ducked under his arm and walked in. Gabriel and Fagan whispered frantically behind me as Lola descended the grand staircase in a red pencil skirt, buttoning the cuffs on her cream-colored silk blouse. She gave me a thin-lipped smile and took both of my hands when she got closer, kissing the air on either side of my face.
“Thank you so much for coming, Ella. It means the world to me.” I squeezed her hands before I pulled mine away. “And who is this you brought with you?” She glanced at Gabriel. The sad, broken woman was gone and power and control were back in her voice.
“This is my…” Boyfriend sounded so juvenile I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I stumbled for the correct word—not partner, friend, lover, chauffeur—“Gabriel. This is Gabriel.”
His eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter. “It’s good to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances.” He held out a hand to her.
Lola nodded. “You’re the detective?”
“He worked my husband’s case,” I confirmed, looking between the two of them.
Gabriel’s cheek twitched slightly, but his face remained passive. I wondered if he ever got sick of that being the first question everyone asked. Gabriel rarely mentioned Danny unless it was to point out that he wasn’t him.
“Well, you’re very welcome. I’m sure Carter w
ill take all the help he can get.” She sent an icy look to Fagan. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to whisk Ella off to the kitchen for a little girl talk.”
My eyes widened. I hoped “girl talk” meant murder and kidnapping because I wasn’t good at the other sort. Fagan nodded, but his glance at me was murderous.
Lola’s authoritative tone and expectation of obedience from Gabriel and Fagan, like they were hired servants, not high-level officers, lent credence to Gabriel’s observation that if she wanted the FBI involved, they would be. She took my arm in her firm grasp and led me through the house to the kitchen.
“Coffee?” she asked, finally relaxing her grip.
“Black.”
The kitchen was phenomenal. It had a bit of a rustic feel, and huge windows let in the beauty of a sprawling hillside view. There was a fireplace on one end, big enough to stand in, and exposed wooden beams lined the vaulted ceiling. She poured two cups and pushed one in my direction. She motioned for me to sit on the other side of an island. I crossed my legs and sipped the coffee.
Lola didn’t say anything. She stared at her mug, as if battling with how to begin. “Alfie didn’t kill those girls.” She spoke quietly, not looking up.
I sputtered and choked. Lola handed me a napkin, and I wiped the coffee from my mouth. “So you know, don’t you?”
She drummed her fingers on the marble counter. “Know what?”
“That William had an affair.”
She laughed lightly. “You are direct.” She rubbed her hand on the smooth surface. “I don’t expect you to understand. We have an open marriage. He has his flings and I have mine.”
“Did Alfie know?”
The smile melted away, and she looked levelly at me. “He figured it out.”
I nodded. “Did you know how he felt about Mary?”
She sighed. “I don’t get involved in my husband’s business, just as he doesn’t take interest in mine. I didn’t know who he was sleeping with until Alfie came to me the night Mary died.” She finally picked up her coffee and took a sip. “I’m taking a chance talking to you without my lawyer present. I trust you’re just looking for the truth, Ella.”
“I only want to bring Mary’s mother some peace.”
Lola nodded. “I’m not unsympathetic. I’m a mother, and yesterday I tasted how hard it would be to lose a child. It’s like part of you is torn away.”
She looked well rested and put together today, though. And she sounded nothing like the person I’d spoken with last night. What changed? “Alfie contacted you, didn’t he?”
“Perhaps.”
“You haven’t told Fagan?”
“Do you think Carter would believe that Alfie ran away because he was scared he would be a suspect, but that he had nothing to do with any of the killings?”
I nearly laughed. Who did this woman think she was? “Do you think I will?”
Confidence exuded from her. “I think you will listen because you want the truth. As soon as you involve the police, I stop talking.”
I sat my cup down and gritted my teeth. “I’m listening.”
“Alfie came charging into the house that night in quite a state. He looked upset and his eyes were red. He practically shouted at me that William was having an affair. I always knew that someday he would find out, but I still wasn’t prepared. I didn’t react immediately, and he correctly surmised that I knew. He sat down on the couch, so defeated. I moved next to him and told him it was okay. He shook his head. ‘That’s why she wouldn’t go out with me,’ was all he said. That’s when I knew whomever William was with was someone our son knew and liked. My heart broke for him.”
Lola looked far away as she spoke.
“Alfie stormed out of the house, angry with me and his father, but not the girl. I called William and he told me it was Mary, but that he’d ended it that day. I tried to contact Alfie, but he didn’t answer.”
“And what time was all of this?”
“I really don’t know.”
“It’s important, Lola. If it happened later in the night, then it will clear Alfie. Can we get the phone records to prove his alibi?”
“And if it was earlier in the night?”
I gave her a helpless gesture.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I knew if the time was earlier, she wouldn’t give me the records, but at least it would be a lead in the right direction. “That still doesn’t explain why he ran.”
“Your visit and questions about Mary put him on edge. Then the other two girls were killed, and he knew both of them as well. Alfie has his failings, I know that, but he isn’t a killer, and he isn’t stupid. He knew that eventually you’d get back to him and uncover who Mary was seeing.”
“If he’s innocent, though, why is he hiding?”
She frowned. “If he has a reason beyond what I told you, I don’t know what it is.”
“I want to talk to him, Lola.” She shook her head. I pressed harder. “No police. He doesn’t even have to tell me where he is—and I’ll try to shield your family in the story, best I can. But if he won’t talk to me, and he knows anything that could help me solve these murders and is holding it back, I’ll make sure all your laundry becomes public knowledge.”
“Are you threatening me?” Her voice was soft and dangerous.
“No, I’m promising. If you and your family knew something and let the killer murder two more young women to protect your name, I will make it my personal mission to destroy whatever reputation you have. Do you understand me?” Fury made my voice low.
“Perfectly.”
“Then he has until, let’s say, 5:00 p.m. to call me. After that, I tell the two very interested officers waiting in the living room.” I left without waiting for a reply.
****
Fagan, Gabriel, and I sat in Fagan’s office and they badgered me about what happened. I kept my promise and told them nothing. I inspected my fingernails that were always short. I never took the time to paint them or decorate them in any way. Writer hands, I thought, looking at my long, thin, pale fingers with satisfaction.
“Ella, this isn’t a game. If she told you anything, you are obligated to tell Sheriff Fagan.” Gabriel tried to appeal to my reasonable side, but he should’ve known better. My reasonable side never won.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re obstructing justice, Ms. Reynolds.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m the only reason you have an investigation, Sheriff Fagan. I am the investigation.” I pointed to myself. “If I weren’t here, there wouldn’t be one at all.”
Fagan threw his arms up in the air and paced behind his desk. “Why was Lola—Mrs. Laurie—so angry when the two of you came out of the kitchen?”
I looked back at my hands folded in my lap. Maybe I should have a manicure sometime.
“Ella intended to tell her about William’s affair,” Gabriel said slowly, watching me. I bit my lip. “That could be why she was angry.”
“You did what?” Fagan bellowed across his desk.
“If you’re going to yell, I’m going to leave,” I said with surprising calmness. I’d forgotten how easy it was to retreat into myself and away from them. It was easier to be indifferent when the outside world felt far away.
“She’s not going to talk. I’ve seen her do this before.” Gabriel frowned at me.
I sighed. I should’ve left him at home. “All I can say is, I don’t know anything that can help with Mary’s investigation yet. But when I do, hopefully later this afternoon, I’ll tell you everything. And I wouldn’t waste too much time on Alfie. Now that’s it. No more. Are you happy?”
“No,” Fagan said, but Gabriel winked and nodded. “What do you mean waste my time?”
I shrugged.
“She’s your girlfriend. Can’t you do something with her?”
Gabriel laughed. “If Ella says she can’t tell us something at this time, I trust that she can’t. Look, she’s agreed
to tell all later. Let’s move on.”
Fagan sat back down and picked up a piece of paper from his desk. “This is the list of property owners and van owners. I have deputies canvassing the names.” He turned it so we could see. There were about fifteen names listed.
“And who owns the farm where we were yesterday?”
“Baervedlt University in the southeastern corner of the state. I don’t know his connection to the school, but the story goes he didn’t leave his family anything.”
“The story?”
He leaned back in his chair. “This was over fifty years ago. All I know are rumors.”
“Do you know what happened to his family?”
Fagan shook his head. “No. Do you think there’s a tie-in?” He frowned.
“Just curious. Gabriel told me the story and it was”—my phone rang—“interesting. Excuse me.” I stood up and answered as I walked back to my interview room.
“Lola?”
“I have the cell phone records. I tried to call Alfie at 10:12 p.m. and I called his father at 9:54 p.m. Does that clear him?”
“How long was he at your house?”
“I don’t know. About twenty minutes.”
That didn’t fit with our timeline. Unless he hired someone to kidnap her, Alfie probably didn’t do it. “It does.”
“Then Alfie will call you today. You have my word.”
“Thank you. After I speak to him, I’ll have to bring in Gabriel and Fagan. You can trust them. I promise.”
She paused. “I understand. Thank you for letting me know.”
I hung up and strode about the small room. It was nice to be alone with my thoughts. If Fagan didn’t do it, Alfie didn’t do it, and I didn’t believe Lola did it, that only left William— but my gut said no, it wasn’t him either. So who else was left? Bryan? Caleb? What had we missed? Damn it.
“You coming back, El?” Gabriel asked from the doorway.
I shook my head as I went toward him. “We’re burning through suspects. We need to look at the timeline again.”