by K. J. Emrick
“The only one there,” I tell him, “is Mabel McGowan’s ghost. Orville’s wife.”
He nods, taking that in as a simple fact just like everything else I’ve said. Ghost in the old creepy house? Must be true, because Dell Powers saw it. He’s a good man, my Kevin is. Not every mother gets to have this kind of respect and love from their son. I count myself lucky.
After a moment, he nods again. “All right. Zacron has an alibi. I’m sure we can trust the police over there enough to know an alibi when it smacks them in the face, right?”
“Sure,” is what I say, because I’m not sure I’d trust Officer Halloway to know his face from his backside, but he was at least right about Zacron’s alibi. “So if it wasn’t him, then who could it be? The police over there are interviewing the other employees of the hotel but I’ve got about as much hope for that as I do for Errol Flynn rising from the dead.”
“Yeah. I don’t know, Mom. Someone else in the hotel would’ve been my guess, too. This Zacron guy might’ve told someone else about the bottle. Talk around the water cooler and such. Anybody else on the street who saw ya, even. Did anyone else show a real interest in the bottle or the note?”
I thought back over our aborted trip. “Well, I mean, the groundskeeper at the McGowan Mansion was really interested in seeing the note. He never saw the bottle because it was smashed at that point.”
“Did you show him the note?”
I shake my head. “No. I was going to, but that was when Mabel’s ghost showed up and told me not to show it to anyone.”
“To anyone, or not to the groundskeeper specifically?”
The memory of those words flashing across the mirror, with Mabel’s eyes behind them, came to me again. “Not to anyone, is what she said. It wasn’t the groundskeeper. It was everyone. She didn’t want anyone else to die.”
His eyes get wider. “Now that’s an interesting thing to say. Did someone else die already because of that bottle and that note?”
“I think she meant her husband. Remember, Orville died out at sea right after tossing the bottle into the current. He and his wife hated each other, apparently. Orville died alone and angry on the water because he was looking to make his fortune on those islands, digging for gold or silver or diamonds, or whatever.”
“Well, Australia’s got plenty of all those things. We get tourists coming here every year trying to turn themselves into real life fossikers, looking to dig up a fortune.”
That’s something I know all too well. More than one tourist from Europe or the States has booked a room at the Pine Lake Inn loaded down with packs and shovels and metal detectors, expecting to just trip over the next Hope Diamond, or whatever. I make them leave the shovels in their cars. I also make them leave me a detailed itinerary of where they’re going. We’ve had to rescue more than one of them after getting lost in the bush.
This is different, though. I know there’s an active gold and silver mine over on the west coast of Tasmania, and of course Tassie is famous for its killiecrankie diamonds, but I’d never heard of anyone finding their fortune off the coast of Hobart! If Orville McGowan had found something out there, he would’ve been the first.
Him, or whoever found his spoils after his death.
Which brought me back to what Mabel’s ghost had told me. Don’t show that note to anyone… No one else needs to die. Had other people died trying to find Orville’s treasure? People searching island to island until they, too, got caught in a storm and capsized and drowned?
Maybe they had, over the years. If Jasmine and I had gone to the Blue Laguna museum, I wonder if we would’ve found a memorial plaque to all of those who had tried to follow in Orville’s footsteps. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it was probably so, considering the way the town gushed over Orville and Mabel’s history. Just like Gimble the groundskeeper had done when he tried to see that note. Him standing there, shovel in hand, that Socceroos jacket over his work clothes because the temperature was dropping…
Wait a tick.
Something about that rings a bell. Something about the Australian National Football Team. Not Australian Rules Football but Soccer. The Socceroos had a big following all across the country, even after their showing in the last World Cup. I hear their name a lot around the Inn, or down at the Thirsty Roo, or even in church. Not weird for anyone to be wearing their merchandise.
So why was it sticking in my craw now?
“Mom?” Kevin says, drawing my attention back to him. “I was asking you if I could see the note.”
“Oh. Oh, sure. Sorry, I was just thinking about all the people who must’ve gone looking for the McGowan treasure over the years. People get killed trying to make their fortune all the time. Maybe that was what Mabel’s ghost was trying to prevent.”
“We might never know,” he agrees. “It’s one of those things that get lost to history. So, the note?”
“It’s just over there in Jasmine’s car. I’ll go get it.”
He’s probably right about not knowing what Mabel meant with her message. The important thing was that she must’ve said it for good reason. I’d never heard of Mabel and Orville McGowan before yesterday, so I certainly wouldn’t have expected to hear about people chasing after their legacy before now, either.
Going over to Jasmine’s car, I take the keys out of my pocket again and hit the unlock button on the fob. Kevin was right about something else, same as Jasmine. This note really is a piece of Tasmania’s history. Regardless of what the ghost said, maybe I should let James do an article on it. That’d be a nice feather in my boyfriend’s cap. Another solid story to bolster his already stellar reputation as a journalist.
Besides, I couldn’t keep the note to myself forever. I mean, I’m about to show it to Kevin. He’s got to see it, if we are going to figure anything out. So what would the harm be in showing it to James, too? Maybe if he did publish a story on it, then all of this nonsense of the McGowan treasure would stop. If people could see that Orville’s note didn’t really reveal anything, maybe that would finally put an end to their story.
I have to believe even Mabel’s ghost would approve of that.
So I unlocked the passenger door, and then flipped through the key ring to find the one for the glove box. There it is.
Kevin’s looking over my shoulder when I turn the key and open up the compartment. He sees the same thing that I do.
The note is gone.
Chapter 6
I can’t believe this. It was right here. It was right here!
Pushing aside receipts and the car owner’s manual and a handful of napkins doesn’t materialize the manila envelope with the note inside. I knew it couldn’t, because it wasn’t like there was much space inside the little glove box for it to be hiding, but I had to try.
“I don’t understand,” I say to Kevin. That’s the understatement of the year, that is. First, someone gets into my locked hotel room to try to steal the note and the bottle with it. Now someone has actually stolen the note, right out of a locked glove box, inside of a locked car.
Who’s doing this, the ghost of Houdini?
Oh, snap. Please don’t let it be that. I’ve got trouble enough with living thieves.
Reflexively, I look up at the rearview mirror. For just a moment, in the periphery of my vision, I thought that I saw a pair of hazel eyes watching me.
There’s no one there this time. Just my own shocked expression.
“Er, Mom?” Kevin asks. “Where’s the note?”
I drop into the passenger seat, feeling more than a little defeated. “It’s gone, Kevin. Just like that. How are we supposed to prove anything even happened now? The bottle’s gone, the note’s gone, the police in Blue Laguna don’t seem to care...”
My train of thought abruptly halted on that point. The police in Blue Laguna! That was it!
“Come on,” I say to Kevin, jumping up out of the seat and slamming the door behind me just as hard as I could, just because I felt like it. “We
need to make a phone call.”
“A call? A call to who? Mom, you’re not going to do some sort of crazy séance to call on Mabel’s ghost, are you?”
“What? No, of course not.” I didn’t do séances. I have a friend over in the States who knows all about that, but from what she’s told me, I’m just as happy to let the ghosts come to me on their own time. “Not that kind of call. This is an actual call to a real live person.”
“To who?”
We were already back at the door of the Inn, and now I raced across the front room to the registration desk where we kept the business phone. “We’re gonna call Officer Halloway. Looks like the police in Blue Laguna are going to be helpful after all!”
There’s no one at the front desk. Danni was covering for me while I was away, but she wasn’t scheduled to come in today until four o’clock. I can’t expect the poor girl to work twenty-four hours a day, after all. The rest of the staff knows to answer the phone if it rings and take care of any of the guest’s needs whenever Rosie and I aren’t here.
Grabbing up the receiver for the phone, I hold it in the crook of my shoulder while I fish in my pockets for the business card Officer Halloway had left me. Didn’t think I’d ever use it but I’d kept it just the same.
“Now just hold on a minute,” Kevin says, not following my ranting at all. “What’re we doing, exactly?”
“We’re calling Officer Halloway, is what we’re doing. Well, his department, anyway. He didn’t see the need to give me his personal number but this one goes right to their station.”
“All right, got that bit. Why do we want to call Officer Halloway?”
“Because,” I explain, “he took a photo of the note on his tablet. If I ask really nicely, and get him to send us that photo, then you can see it that way! We’ll still have our most important clue!”
With a smile, he holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers. “Give me the phone.”
“What? Kevin, I know how to be nice when I want to be.”
“Sure ya do, Mom. Thing is, I think maybe you’ve used up all your good will with Halloway and his co-workers. Might be they’ll respond quicker if the request comes from a senior sergeant, don’t ya think?”
Can’t argue with that.
He finishes dialing the number on the card and I listen as he explains who he is to whatever dispatcher or junior officer picked up the call. To listen to him talk, it’s like he’s just having a casual conversation with a friend he’s known all his life. He’s got this way with people, he does. They respect him. They listen to hm. Even people he’s arrested for unspeakable crimes always treat him with respect, grudging though it may be.
It isn’t long at all before he’s asking me for the Inn’s e-mail address. Seems like a copy of that pic Halloway took was going to be on its way shortly.
“You’re amazing,” I tell him. “I hope that girlfriend of yours knows it.”
“Oh, she tells me on occasion,” he admits with a wink.
Which reminds me. “How’s Ellie feeling? You taking care of her and that baby-to-be she’s carrying for you?”
“Yes, Mom, I am. Same as when ya asked me that question last week. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Good to hear. Women can get cranky when they’re six months pregnant and their man forgets to be grateful.”
“I tell her every day. Besides, Ellie’s not like that. She’s just about as perfect as it gets.”
The little smile on his lips tells me that it wouldn’t matter if Ellie was throwing the good china against the walls every day, or if she dyed all his clothes pink, he’d still think the woman was the textbook definition of perfect. In Ellie, he’s found everything he’s ever wanted out of life and I’m happy for him.
I hate to keep harping on this other point, however, but I feel it’s my responsibility as his mother. “So then, when’s the wedding?”
The look he gives me is the same one he always has for that question. “Patience, Mom. The pregnancy kind of caught us unprepared, but we’ve got a plan.”
“Caught you unprepared? Kevin, they know what causes that nowadays. See, when a woman loves a man, they can get very close, and then sometimes—”
“Mom, please,” he chuckles.
“Didn’t I give you the talk about the birds and the bees when you were younger?”
“More times than I care to remember, yes. I know how it happened. Believe me, I was there. Listen, me and her wanted kids, just not this soon. But, time moves on, as someone I know likes to say. Kind of kicks you in the teeth every once in a while, and then there’s two choices. Stay down or get up and move on. The reality is this is happening, and Ellie and I have both promised to see it through and make things work. She loves me, though only God knows why. She’s more than I deserve.”
“Nonsense,” I tell him, patting his cheek. “You and Ellie are perfect together. You’re just right for each other. She’s as tough as they come and so are you. Can’t imagine you with anyone else.”
“That’s what I keep telling her, whenever I’m rubbing her feet.”
“Good man.” I obviously did teach him a couple of things about how to treat a woman. “So now I guess we just have to wait for—”
On the registration desk, the computer gave a single bing.
“For that.”
It was the new e-mail notification. Whatever the Blue Laguna officers must’ve thought about helping little old me, they had no reservations about giving the Lakeshore Senior Sergeant whatever he wanted.
Setting aside the discussion of my son and Ellie’s possibly upcoming wedding, I put in the computer password and then pulled up the business e-mail, and there it was. The attachment showed me a clear image of the note laying on top of the chest of drawers in the hotel room.
“Wow. The resolution on Officer Halloway’s tablet camera is really good.” I turned the screen toward Kevin. “Here it is. See?”
He took a minute to read it over, scratching his forehead as he mouthed the words that were legible. There’s not much on there to see, but he read it through four times just the same.
Funny, but in the photo the words were even clearer yet.
* * *
“My dearest Mabel…going where I can be away…you don’t know how your…how much gold…can find a little…”
* * *
Then he steps back, hooking his thumbs into his duty belt. “Doesn’t say much, does it?”
“It says plenty enough for someone to want to kill me,” I point out. “Enough for someone to get into Jasmine’s car somehow and steal it from the glove box.”
“Yeah… about that.” He pauses while a group of guests come out of the dining room and wave goodbye on their way out of the Inn. When they’re gone, he leans in a little more and lowers his voice. “Nobody here in Lakeshore knew about what you found. Neither one of ya called ahead to tell anyone it was coming here. They certainly didn’t know it was in the glove box of Jasmine’s car. So how did they find it?”
That… was a very good question. I’d been so caught up in wondering how someone got into the car, that I’d never thought to wonder how anyone could know there was something in there to steal in the first place.
Which also got me wondering about our hotel room. Because if it wasn’t Zacron who got into that room, then how did anyone know the note in a bottle was there to steal? How did they know which room was ours?
The answer was simple. Someone must have tattled. Kevin had suggested that maybe Zacron told someone else at the hotel about the bottle in our room. Officer Halloway had suggested that same thing. But…
But.
Someone would have to know about the bottle being in our room, and also know about the note being in the glove box. They had to know about both.
Now, who knew where the note was at all times, except for me?
Oh, snap.
A few other choice words come to mind. None of which I want to repeat in front of my son.
Jasmine knew. My good
friend knew exactly where we put the note. She was the only other one, other than me, who knew.
In Kevin’s expression, I could see that he’d already come to the same conclusion.
“It can’t be her, Kevin. She wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Which part wouldn’t she do?” he asks. I can hear the skepticism in his voice. “The part where she let a potential murderer into your hotel room, or the part where she helped someone get into her car to steal the note?”
I want there to be some argument that will make this not so. “But how could she do it, Kevin? I don’t mean how could she do this to me, I mean… how could she do it? There wasn’t any chance. Jasmine’s been with me ever since we left Blue Laguna. She was never out of my sight, not even when we stopped for petrol. If she was going to let someone into her car, she would have to give them the keys, and the keys are right here!”
I plucked them out of my pocket again and shook them. They rattle, and clink, and mock me. There’s no way that somebody plucked these out of my pocket, snuck them to the car to steal that note, and then stuffed them back in my pants without me noticing. There’s just no way.
Except…
Kevin continues to look at me, just watching me, because he knows that my thoughts are working up to the same conclusions he’s made. Yes, Jasmine was always with me on the trip back… but she did bend down to tie her shoe when we got here, on her side of the car, where I couldn’t see what she was doing.
She could’ve left a spare on the ground for someone to find.
Yes, she was right there in the hotel room with me when that man got in… but she stayed asleep the whole time and didn’t even try to help me. Not even when I screamed.
What if she only claimed to be sleeping? What if she’d been awake that whole time? What if… oh, Lord have mercy. What if she let the attacker in? Let him in, crawled back into bed, and then laid there with her eyes closed while he… while he…
No. Just, no. Jasmine and I are friends. Long time friends. The Jasmine that I know would never do something that horrible.