The Case of the Sinister Spirit (Jane Gallows Witch Private Investigator Book 1)

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The Case of the Sinister Spirit (Jane Gallows Witch Private Investigator Book 1) Page 12

by Leighann Dobbs


  A pang of guilt seized me. She was right. Normally our family was close. I did things with Tess and Liz all the time. But this past week, I’d been wrapped up in the case. It wasn’t worth missing out on family time. “I’d love to go. Now what do you say we go in and have dinner?”

  “I say that is a great idea.”

  In the dining room, everyone was already serving themselves. We loaded up our plates and took our places at the table.

  Aunt Lucretia yawned. “Sorry. I had quite a restless night. Still just waking up.” Sometimes it was hard to remember that Lucretia and Henry woke up at dinnertime and slept all day.

  “I was just telling Jane how much we miss her being around. She’s been so busy with that Bud Saunders case,” Gladys said.

  “Yeah, cuz,” Tess said. “I kinda miss you coming around the shop. I’m scheduling a nail glam day tomorrow with Aunt Gladys. You want to come?”

  “Yep. Gladys already asked.”

  “Oh, good,” Liz piped in. “I might be adventurous and go for pink nails this time.” The table erupted in laughter. Liz was not known for being adventurous. If anything, she was super conservative. Her favorite nail color choice was usually clear.

  “So anyway, how is that Bud Saunders case going?” Uncle Cosmo ripped the leg off his game hen with gusto.

  “Dead ends everywhere, I’m afraid. All my suspects have alibis.”

  “Even that Charlie Henderson?” Aunt Wanda’s eyes cut to Gladys.

  “Yeah. He was with Melinda Perkins, believe it or not.”

  Aunt Gladys frowned. “Melinda Perkins? That tramp.”

  “Are you jealous?” Lucretia asked. “I think you’d do well to stay away from that Charlie Henderson. He has some weird habits.”

  Aunt Gladys smirked. “Don’t I know it.”

  “No. Not that kind. I heard through the night-owl grapevine that there was something fishy about those creepy vignettes that he makes. One of them depicted an old cold case where they never solved the crime.” Lucretia picked up the hen and bit its wing off then continued. “I heard Sheriff O’Hara was looking into it because something in that vignette was never released to the public. It was only in the classified police files, so it was something only the killer would’ve known about.”

  “O’Hara said Charlie got old files from the police station on the murders,” I said. “He probably found out that way.”

  Lucretia shook her head. “Not from what I heard. This detail wasn’t in the regular files.”

  Images of the red plastic piece I’d found in Bud’s barn bubbled up. I’d written it off as something Charlie had left when he was setting up the fake ghost noises. But what if it wasn’t? What if Charlie really was the killer? Steve had been surveying the land, and maybe that made Charlie nervous. He wouldn’t have known it was to be put in conservation and probably just assumed the kids were going to sell it to a pharmacy or mall as the rumors suggested.

  “But Melinda Perkins said she was with Charlie when Bud was killed.”

  Gladys shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone lied for their lover.”

  I thought about Brent and Chastity. Chastity had lied for Brent, though I still wondered what her motivation was. Was she still so in love with him that she would’ve lied to protect him even though he was cheating on her? And what about Brent’s girlfriend—would she have lied too?

  Maybe I really wasn’t as out of leads as I thought.

  We finished eating, and Aunt Wanda surprised us with crème brûlée for dessert. As I was shoveling in the last bite, I realized I might have one more midnight detecting job to go on.

  Liz’s phone chimed, and she pulled it out of her pocket. “Sorry. I thought I turned this off.” She looked down at the display, her brows mashing angrily together. “This is a text from Julian Crosby.”

  I choked on my crème brûlée, and her eyes snapped in my direction. “Jane? Did you have something to do with this?”

  “Who, me? No.” I tossed my napkin onto the table and pretended to look at the watch I never wore. “Well, look at the time! I gotta go!”

  I pushed away from the table and hightailed it out of there with Liz yelling after me, “Jane Gallows, I’m gonna get back at you for this!”

  I rushed back to my office, delaying only long enough to inform Jinx of my intentions. Much to my surprise, he roused himself from his nap and trotted to the car with me.

  “That old mill building has big, juicy mice that come out at night,” Jinx said. That explained why he wanted to come with me. And here I’d thought he was trying to make sure I stayed out of harm’s way.

  The news about Charlie Henderson had me in a tizzy. I’d discounted that little piece of plastic I’d found near Bud’s body, thinking that Charlie had probably dropped it there when he was setting up his fake ghost speaker. But what if he had really dropped it when he was murdering Bud? What if somehow he’d gotten Melinda Perkins to lie for him? But that begged the question: what was his motivation to murder Bud?

  “Liars and cheats. That’s what murderers are,” Moe said after I had filled him in on everything I’d learned since we’d last talked. “Don’t ever forget that, Red. Clearly one of your suspects is lying about their alibi. Unless the real killer is someone we haven’t yet considered.”

  I hoped that wasn’t the case. It would be like starting over. But I couldn’t think of anyone else who would benefit from Bud’s death. The treasure hunters had left town, and no one else would have cared about the land but Charlie. Well, except for Minnie and Sophie. But surely those nice little old tea-drinking ladies couldn’t be murderers, could they? What if they’d seen Steve and Bernie out there surveying the land and thought Bud was getting ready to sell out? Would they have gone as far as murder to keep the quiet neighborhood they were used to living in?

  “Maybe Charlie was more worried about Bud selling out than the treasure hunters, and he set up that whole fake ghost thing to make the land less valuable,” Moe suggested.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He told you he saw the surveyor out there, right? And he’d heard the rumors of the pharmacy being built just like Minnie and Sophie had, right? Maybe he figured a big pharmacy company wouldn’t want to build on that land if it was haunted. Maybe Bud caught him.”

  “But Charlie has someone that swears she was with him at the time of Bud’s death. Then again, all my suspects do.”

  Moe scowled at me. “What, did you just fall off the cabbage truck? You ever heard of payoffs?”

  “You mean Charlie paid someone to lie about his alibi.”

  “Yeah. And the others too.”

  “Come to think of it, Steve mentioned that Brent had paid people off before. He was worried Brent would somehow squelch the conservation land application he had going. That’s why he was so secretive about it.”

  “Well, does Brent’s car squeak? Don’t forget, we never did discover where that banshee wailing that the neighbors heard came from.”

  “I never got a chance to check that out. Once Jinx overheard O’Hara confirm Brent’s alibi at the Bubbling Cauldron, I didn’t think it was that important.”

  Moe rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you, never drop investigating a suspect?”

  He had. I should have at least checked the car to see if it squealed. But something didn’t add up. Chastity had lied and said she was with Brent, and if he was the killer, then that meant the girlfriend and the bartender had lied also. Why would Brent pay off three people to lie and create confusing alibis for him?

  I stared at the piece of plastic in my hand. It could definitely be from one of Charlie’s vignettes. Then again, it was so small it could be from something else too. But it sure was a creepy hobby and obsession with murder that Charlie had. Maybe Bud’s death had nothing to do with the treasure or pharmacies or land or kids fighting, and Charlie was just a wacko that liked to kill people.

  My phone chimed on my desk with an angry text from Liz about how Julian had called t
o ask her to the Witch’s Brew. I snorted out loud, waking Jinx, who had slipped into snore-sleep on the couch. I still owed Liz one from when she’d first set me up with Mitch all those years ago in high school, and now she was finding payback was a bitch.

  While I was still looking at Liz’s angry text, another one came in. This one was from Tess, confirming the manicure appointments for the next day. Tomorrow at ten a.m. Dang, Liz would probably try to get back at me before then, and I didn’t doubt her focus would be on Joe Hayes, the chocolatier.

  I put the phone away, the warm, fuzzy feelings of family camaraderie fading as I looked at the plastic piece.

  In the background, Moe was rambling on about suspects and thoroughly checking alibis and how a shamus had to do his due diligence and not go off on assumption, but I was barely listening. My brain was churning on that little piece of plastic.

  Suddenly, I shot up from my desk and grabbed my purse.

  “Where are you going?” both Jinx and Moe asked at the same time.

  “I know who the killer is, and I’m going to prove it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brent and Chastity’s house was dark. No car in the driveway. That was fine by me. I wasn’t interested in looking at the car.

  I parked down at the end of the street and skulked along the shrubs and hedges, thankful for the cover of darkness, as I made my way back to their house.

  Luckily, it appeared that no one was home, so I could sneak in, verify my suspicions, and then get out before anyone even knew I was there.

  “Are you breaking in?” Jinx asked as I held my lock-picking kit up to my face, making sure to choose the right tool for the lock.

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are. That’s against the law.” So now he was interested in upholding the law?

  The lock clicked, and I slowly pushed the door open. The smell of oil, mildew, and discarded memories hit me as I slipped inside. The garage was crowded with sagging, dust-covered boxes. Piled in the corners were cast-off snowshoes and skis. Rusted fishing poles hung from hooks on the walls. Christmas decorations poked out of the tops of a few boxes.

  Over in the corner, something bulky huddled under a blue tarp. I headed toward it.

  “What are you doing?” Jinx asked.

  “Shhh. This is a covert operation. We don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

  I knelt beside the tarp, dropping my bag within easy reach just in case I needed a chocolate. The tarp crinkled as I grabbed one end and slowly lifted it to reveal exactly what I had expected to see.

  A scooter.

  This one was purple, with a black padded seat and chrome handlebars. It looked like an older model, the kind that might have a squeaky belt.

  At Bud’s barn, Chastity had mentioned that she wanted to use the car because she had an appointment in town and it was too far for her to take the scooter. At the time, I’d been focusing on the fact that they only had one car, which meant only one of them could have left the house at a time. If one of them used the car, the other would have known, and if Brent was with his girlfriend, Chastity would have been at home. But Bud’s house was less than a mile away from here. Close enough for her to take the scooter. Not to mention that Minnie had said she hadn’t seen any cars, because the scooter had only one headlight, not two.

  Now to figure out if this thing had a loose belt.

  I made my way to the engine, tilting my head to look at it from all sides. It was hard to see because the garage was dark.

  “So this is what made that banshee wailing noise.” Jinx was at the back tire. I joined him, crouching to look at things from his angle. The scooter had purple splash guards over the tops of the tires, but this one had been dented. It was rubbing against the rubber tire. I pictured the belt on the vacuum at home. It had been rubbing against something metal too. Uncle Cosmo had said that’s what made it squeal. Would this be enough to produce the noise Minnie and Sophie had mistaken for a ghost?

  I could take a picture, but how in the world was I going to get Sheriff O’Hara on board with accepting this kind of a clue from me? She didn’t even believe in ghosts. Not to mention that she’d dismiss anything I said. Maybe that nice Officer Parker who had been there when Aunt Gladys had been brought in would be more receptive. Hadn’t cousin Tess mentioned him one time—

  “Just what do you think you’re doing in here?”

  Oops, and here I’d thought no one was home.

  I peered around the tire in the direction of the voice. The light spilling out from the open door highlighted the silhouette of a person. The backlighting made it impossible to see their features, but I didn’t need more light to know who it was.

  It was Chastity Saunders, and she had a gun pointed in my direction.

  I raised my palms slowly. “Chastity, it’s me, Jane Gallows.”

  “What are you doing to my scooter?”

  “Nothing ...” Keep her talking. Wasn’t that what I was supposed to do? My eyes flicked to my bag three feet away at the front of the scooter. Nestled inside were my chocolates. I didn’t dare make a move toward it. If only I could get at those chocolates, I could cast a lights-out spell or maybe even a frozen-in-place spell to make her move slowly. But I couldn’t get to the bag without risking getting shot.

  “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” Chastity said.

  “What do you mean?” I played dumb. Maybe I could pretend she wasn’t my number-one suspect as Bud’s murderer. Though playing dumb probably wasn’t going to work so well, considering I had just broken into her garage.

  “You’ve been sniffing around my father-in-law’s murder, digging up things that should not be dug up.”

  Odd choice of words, considering the whole treasure thing. “I’m not the only one that’s been digging.”

  She stepped closer, holding the gun menacingly out in front of her. I spotted Jinx slipping behind an old box. Hiding? Or did he have something up his sleeve? I could hardly blame him for hiding. If one of us had to get shot, it should be me. I was bigger and could survive a bullet better. I was hoping to come up with a clever way out so that neither of us got shot though.

  Maybe I could lull Chastity into a false sense of security by pretending to be sympathetic to her problems with Brent.

  “Look, Chastity, I know what a louse your husband is. I’m sure everyone will understand that you couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t know why you killed Bud, but if it had something to do with Brent, I think a jury would be really sympathetic about that. Not so much if you shoot me though.” Should I not have mentioned anything about her killing Bud? So much for playing dumb to get away.

  I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe for her to break down in tears or drop the gun and confess that she’d only done it because her husband was such a jerk. But that didn’t happen. Instead, she seemed to grow colder. And closer. The gun was still aimed at me.

  “That’s right. Brent is a total jerk. I had to suffer and pretend to be the good wife because he held the purse strings. I couldn’t escape. And then I found out about the treasure on Bud’s property from one of those online forums. That’s all I wanted—the money to get away from Brent.”

  “So it was you digging for the treasure?” This explained the conflicting reports I’d heard about Bud’s relatives not bothering with him. According to what Bud had told people, they never visited. But some had reported seeing Chastity there, presumably to visit her father-in-law. Chastity had gone to Bud’s, but not to visit. She’d been going there to dig for the treasure.

  “Of course it was. Oh sure, there were some other people out there, and that crazy old coot next door kept coming over with his fake ghost act.”

  At my raised-eyebrow look, she smiled. “Oh yeah. I knew all about that. Who would believe there was a real ghost? Lucky for me, those treasure hunters were stupid, because it scared them off. Did you know that crazy old guy makes three-dimensional murder-scene art? He’s nuttier than a fruitcake.”

 
Jinx poked his head out from behind a box and caught my eye. I was still not sure what he was up to, but at least he had a plan.

  “But why did you kill Bud?” Chastity seemed willing to talk, so I figured I might as well get a full confession.

  “I didn’t want to kill him.” She stepped even closer. I tried to back up, but the cement wall was behind me. Once again I was caught on the floor, crouching, with someone looming over me. I made a mental note not to crouch so much. First, O’Hara had caught me at the tree, and now Chastity.

  “Killing Bud was an accident,” she continued, taking another step closer. Her red fingernail polish glittered in the light filtering in from the house.

  Yep, my deduction had been correct. The plastic piece I had found where Bud’s body had lain wasn’t from Charlie’s vignette, it was from Chastity’s acrylic nails. I should have known the day I had run into her coming out of the nail salon when Lucy mentioned she came in almost every day. She had been going there for a similar reason to Aunt Gladys’s. Her nails were chipped and dirty from digging.

  “I kind of liked Bud. Killing him was an accident. He caught me digging around the barn. He was mad. He thought I was the one making all the ghost ruckus. I tried to reason with him. I even showed him the speakers and how the cord came from Charlie’s. But he wouldn’t hear any of it.” Her face darkened. “We argued. I told him I had something awful to tell him about Brent. I didn’t want anyone to overhear. It was so mortifying. So he agreed to go in the barn. I told him how awful Brent was to me and how I just wanted the money to get away.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wouldn’t hear any of it. He thought Brent was the best thing since sliced bread. He grabbed my arm, and I pushed back. He fell backward onto the pitchfork.” Remorse flickered across her face, but then she drew in a breath and her face turned cold again. “It was awful. You should have seen the look on his face.”

  I had seen the look. Apparently the ghastly look on Bud’s face had been surprise and maybe a little bit of horror too. Surprise his daughter-in-law had pushed him and horror at the unfortunate placement of the pitchfork.

 

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