Chasing Ghosts

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Chasing Ghosts Page 4

by Lee Driver


  “Your place a slum? Why, it’s listed at the Visitors’ Bureau as one of the top ten places to see in Cedar Point.”

  “Ha ha.” Casey turned his attention to Sara. There were enough gaps in his teeth to release a whistle every time he breathed. He made a futile attempt at pulling down his Chicago Cubs tee shirt but it didn’t help to hide his gut. Tattoos resembling barbed wire circled each of his flabby biceps.

  “Who’s this? Thought you were engaged to the blonde bitch.”

  “That ended a long time ago. This is Sara Morningsky. She’s my business partner.”

  Casey laughed. “That what they call them these days?”

  “Excuse me?” Sara’s right eyebrow jutted sharply. Faster than the bar owner could blink, Sara reached into her purse and pulled out a Kel-Tec P32. “Want to clarify that?”

  Casey’s eyes appeared crossed as they focused on the weapon. He slowly raised his hands. The men in the bar stopped crooning. Even Toby Keith got the hint as his song ended.

  “Sorry. No harm intended. Just having a little fun is all.” Casey looked to Dagger. “Can I lower my hands now?”

  “Play nice, Sara,” Dagger said.

  Sara slipped the gun back into her purse.

  “Need to ask you a few questions.” Dagger moved to the end of the bar, out of ear shot of the other patrons. Sara and Casey followed. “Anyone come in here recently asking about me?”

  The big man’s eyes grew and a small teletype appeared to play back in his head. It looked as though he were weighing his options – lie and save his skin or tell the truth and walk away with just a few broken bones. Seeing that Sara had slipped her hand back into her purse, he opted for truth.

  “Yeah, couple days ago. Looked like an insurance salesman, but a dangerous insurance salesman. Something about his eyes. You just happened to be picking up your cleaning down the street. I pointed out your car,” he said, looking nervously at Sara’s purse, “and told him he could probably catch you there if he hurried. Did he?”

  Dagger shook his head. Demko probably followed him home and decided on a surprise visit rather than approaching him in public. Which means he probably was using Connors’ rental car before disposing of the car with Connors’ decomposing body in the trunk.

  Dagger smiled at the nervous giant. “Guess you can live another day.” He led Sara out of the bar whispering, “That thing loaded?”

  Sara winced. “Forgot.”

  CHAPTER 6

  The gun metal gray binoculars were a Christmas gift from his wife. Padre had complained that the damn things cost $600 and a $25 pair would have done just as well. But he was wrong. These were so powerful he could see an ant crawling up a tree trunk two hundred yards away. Before it got too dark he needed to search out the quarry Dagger had mentioned. Sure it was far-fetched and Dagger could be pulling his leg. But with all the weird cases he had seen Dagger work, there was just something in the amusement Dagger had shown when telling the story that told Padre if Dagger were involved, expect the unexpected.

  The closed quarry dominated the southeast side of town. Padre had been crouched in the weeds searching the area to make sure he was alone. The gravel roads into the property were grown over. So far he hadn’t seen any bird watchers or bikers or teens engaged in nefarious activities.

  He moved closer to the fence, then trained the binoculars on the floor of the quarry. Small pebbles appeared as huge boulders through the lens. Small bones sprang in front of the lens of the binoculars. Padre figured they were the remains of rabbits and other small animals who had inadvertently fallen into the quarry. A crow cawed from a branch overhead, sending a chill down Padre’s spine. He didn’t care too much for being out in the woods even in daylight. Ever since the bizarre Friday the Thirteenth case he worked with Dagger he hadn’t been able to go into the forest at night without an entire arsenal on him. Back then, even an arsenal hadn’t helped.

  The sun slowly crept across the sky. Padre returned his attention to the floor of the quarry. If Dagger’s humor contained one ounce of truth, a body tossed into the quarry would be close to the edge. He swept the floor below him, seeing more small bones, bird wings, a few beer cans. Padre had grown up several miles from the quarry and as a kid remembered his mother yelling every time they dynamite-blasted the rock. All of her knickknacks would fall off the glass shelves.

  The lens skimmed the area across from where he sat. Still nothing that looked like a body. There were tires, charred remains of what looked like a car, scrap metal of some type, more bones, shoes…wait. Padre zipped the binoculars back to the bones. He lowered the binoculars to view the area with the naked eye, then back to the binoculars. The bones were fragments but looked larger than rodent bones. Slowly he returned to the shoes, adjusted the focus. The shoes still had socks in them…and feet.

  “Tell me again what I’m doing here at eight o’clock at night with my gear and my motorcycle.” Luther Jamison pulled the helmet from his head. His close-cropped Afro fit his small frame. There was barely any gray in his hair or lines on his face yet he was pushing sixty.

  Padre worked the lock picks in the rusted padlock. He could just as easily have cut the chain but that might encourage others to travel the gravel road down to the floor of the pit. Padre pointed with his chin to the binoculars. “Check it out. Just about two o’clock on the floor of the quarry.”

  Luther peered through the binoculars and swept down to the approximate area. Puzzled, he adjusted them again, glared at the target, then lowered the binoculars. “This what I think it is?”

  “Yep. Shoes and lots of bone fragments. We need to gather what we can and get them back to your lab.”

  The lock pick finally did its magic. Padre jerked the stubborn lock open and threaded the chain off the gate. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

  “Huh. That means Chase Dagger is involved.” Luther climbed on his bike and nodded for Padre to do likewise. He fired up the engine and tore down the gravel road.

  Padre hung on for dear life as the tires slipped and jerked on the gravel. He made a sign of the cross when they finally hit bottom. “Sweet Mary and Joseph. You trying to kill me?”

  Luther just smiled, pulled his kit from the back of the bike and moved closer to the battered shoes. He grabbed his recorder, then stopped. “This official?”

  “Not yet.”

  Luther turned off the recorder and picked up his camera. “I need these for posterity. Cases you dump in my lap always make for great plots in the mystery series I’m planning to write about a highly intelligent medical examiner.”

  “Yeah, you and me both.”

  Padre waited as Luther snapped pictures and snorted, shook his head, sighed. He walked in a wide circle. There were pieces of bone, clothing, and dried blood spread over a four-hundred- square-foot area. It hadn’t rained in days so Padre was sure the rust colored walls were from the victim’s blood which told Padre this guy did explode on his way down. He pressed fingertips to his temples and mumbled, “Dagger, I’m going to kill you.” A small voice he called his skeptical angel said, “Wait for proof. This may have nothing to do with Dagger.”

  Once he was done snapping pictures, Luther started to collect the fragments from the outer edges and work his way in. “Hope we have enough daylight left.”

  “Let me give you a hand so we can move this along.” Padre snapped on latex gloves.

  “I remember back in 1994 they discovered a meteorite in this place.” Luther lifted one of the shoes and sniffed. “It weighed about a thousand pounds and thought to be over four billion years old.” He set the shoe in a paper bag saying, “Been dead no more than a day.” He sniffed again.

  Padre felt his dinner rise as he looked at the bone and muscles jutting from the shoe. The top of the sock had been burned away.

  “Anyway, they believe the meteorite hit the Earth about four hundred million years ago and landed in the quarry when it was a coral reef. And this is actually three quarries connected by tunnels.
In its heyday it produced seven million tons of rock products annually.”

  “Thanks for the lesson. Maybe it will come in handy if I’m ever on Jeopardy.”

  Luther picked up pieces of cloth and dropped them in the bag. “Fabric is singed. This guy went up like a torch but the skin isn’t black. What the hell?” He studied the surrounding area. “Where’s the head?”

  Padre shrugged and pointed. “There…there…and there.”

  The man opened the door and listened. The conference call had started so the representatives from area parishes should be busy for a while. He closed the door then sat at the conference table, the laptop fired up and ready to go. After inserting the flash drive, he waited for the prompts, clicked on EXPLORE and opened DRIVE E. It didn’t take long for the detailed list of documents to appear. He opened the first document. Puzzled, he opened several more. Curse words that would have made a longshoreman blush flew from his mouth. Everything was encrypted.

  CHAPTER 7

  “PLEASE MISTER POSTMAN.AWWWKK.” Einstein spread his scarlet and royal blue wings as he tap danced on the perch.

  “Mornin’, Einstein.” Simon reached out a hand to Einstein but drew it back right as Einstein snapped at him. Simon roared with laughter.

  Dagger lowered the paper and glared at the macaw. “Behave yourself, Einstein. He’s one of the friendly guests. We need to keep him around.”

  Einstein mimicked Simon’s laugh which made Simon laugh even harder. The macaw flew up to the catwalk that dissected the living room. Stairs along one wall led up to Sara’s bedroom. The catwalk branched out from her door and led to a wall of windows with a picturesque view of their property.

  Simon hobbled to the front door and admired the scenery. Sara was watering the flower baskets hanging on the porch. Every time she raised the hose, she exposed more of her tan midrift.

  “Um ummmm. Such a lovely thing. One of these days, that young Tyler is going to snatch her right out from under your nose.”

  Sara had met Nick Tyler during one of her early cases with Dagger. The Tyler family was one of the richest in the Midwest. Women followed Nick around slipping him their phone numbers. He had Hollywood good looks, was currently modeling in Europe, had gone to college in Europe, and had been so taken with Sara that when back in the states, the two were inseparable.

  “He’s gay.”

  “Yeah. You wish.”

  Dagger shrugged. “He’s a model, spends a lot of time in Europe where daddy won’t catch wind of his, uh, male friends, and the only reason he squires Sara around is to try to prove to the world that he’s all man.”

  “Squire?” Simon hefted his body onto the loveseat. “No one squires anymore. They hook up. Besides, don’t you think those foreign paparazzi would have a field day plastering his face on their front pages? Everyone knows his every move. Except you.” Simon pointed a beefy finger at him. “Like I said. One day you are going to wake up and she’s going to be picking out wedding gowns.”

  Dagger folded the paper and tossed it aside. “What have you got for me?”

  “Common sense.” “Businesswise.”

  Einstein swooped back to the perch by Dagger’s desk. He bobbed his head as though watching Sara through the window, then belted out a loud screech that had Simon covering his ears. Simon gave up and hobbled out to the kitchen.

  Dagger grabbed a Brazil nut from the top drawer of his desk. “Want to go outside, Einstein?” The macaw bobbed his head up and down. “This way.” He led Einstein back to the aviary and through the far door to the screened enclosure. Once the macaw was settled, Dagger gave him the Brazil nut.

  Simon was cutting himself a piece of coffee cake when Dagger walked in. “Can’t talk on an empty stomach,” Simon said.

  “Oh, hell. You are more trouble than…”

  “Hey, no way to talk to a guy who cleans up your messes.” Simon slapped the cake on a plate and hobbled over to the kitchen table. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, reflecting off of the chrome and granite counters and fixtures. “Speaking of messes, you figure out how that guy ended up with a bomb in his neck?”

  “The guy is unknown and so far no one misses him.” Dagger grabbed the carafe of coffee and two cups and set them on the table. “Skizzy has been running the guy’s prints through AFIS but so far he hasn’t had a hit.”

  “So you don’t know how he knew Cardinal Esrey or why he had him in his crosshairs?”

  “Not yet.”

  Simon reached into his back pocket and pulled out a page from the Society section of the local newspaper. “Thought you might find this interesting, could get yourself an invite.” He tossed the page across the table. “The Tyler and Monroe families are hosting a dinner for Cardinal Esrey at the Tyler estate.”

  Monroe was another of the few elite families in Cedar Point. Leyton Monroe owned a multitude of newspapers across the country including Cedar Point’s Daily Herald. Sheila, Dagger’s former fiancée, was his daughter. The safest thing would be to go with Sara. Not that he didn’t trust himself around his ex, but Sheila usually behaved herself when Sara was with him. Unfortunately, he had other plans for Sara. While the cardinal was busy at the Tyler’s and Dagger was there to keep an eye on him, Sara could search the cardinal’s hotel room.

  Luther and Padre picked up burgers from a drive-through and parked in the cool shade of the stacked parking garage at the shopping mall. Here they could be away from the prying eyes and ears of fellow workers.

  “DNA?” Padre asked.

  “That will take a few days. Blood is B positive, got some intact fingers.” Luther handed Padre a report with prints from four of the fingers. “No scars or markings on any of the slivers of remains we found. No abnormalities in the bones or skull fragments. Wore silk socks.” Luther smiled. “Light blue.”

  Padre glared at the medical examiner as he sipped soda through a straw. “I want to hear how he blew up.”

  “If it was a bomb, as you say, and only in the neck, as you say, then he would have only lost his head. We should have found an intact torso. I haven’t a clue how it was done, maybe some explosive liquid in his pocket. Maybe he set himself on fire. Either way, his entire body appeared to vaporize. But, again, don’t ask me how that is possible. It’s a little too high tech for me.”

  Padre chewed his burger slowly. There was a lot of truth to the saying that some people can’t think and chew at the same time. High tech was synonymous with Dagger. “You think someone shot him with some type of vaporizer gun? Saw that on CSI. Makes more sense, right?”

  Luther wadded up the empty burger wrapper and tossed it in a bag. “Like I said, little too high tech for me but I’m working on it. It’s a little tough to make phone calls and ask people. They will want to know the whys and the wherefores. Only thing I know is I would never want to meet this guy’s boss. He knows how to keep his people in line.”

  “Find any kind of housing or metal that might have been in or on his body?”

  Luther shook his head no. “Not in the bits and pieces we found. We can always go back down there and have another look around.”

  “No, thanks. I’m done deep-sea diving.” Padre gathered up the empty containers and handed them to Luther. As the medical examiner walked over to a trash container, Padre thought, Damnit, Dagger. What the hell are you into this time?

  Sara set the phone down. “I feel really stupid, Dagger. They will know something is up. I never call Nick.”

  “Never?”

  “No. I’m not a love-sick puppy who follows him around like the rest of the women.”

  Dagger was glad to hear that. Plan B. “Guess I could just call Sheila and ask if she needs a date.” He watched for her reaction. Not a hint of jealousy there. Maybe Sara didn’t care. Then he saw her right eyebrow twitch.

  “Won’t it be a little crowded with Detective Spagnola sitting on one side of her?”

  “Oh, is she still dating him?”

  Joe Spagnola was a homicide detective Sheila had la
tched onto after she and Dagger had broken up. Dagger didn’t follow Sheila’s every move but as far as he knew they were still dating.

  The phone rang and the caller negated any need for Dagger to find a creative way to wrestle an invite to the cardinal’s dinner.

  “Dagger, Robert Tyler here.” The voice was broadcaster-smooth and refined.

  “Mister Tyler. How is everyone?”

  Dagger had helped out the Tyler family during a very public case involving his daughter-in-law, the murder of Tyler’s very young second wife, and stolen diamonds. It had gotten messy pretty fast and revealed a gambling problem his oldest son had as well as his youngest son’s drinking problem. Now it was just the three men, one grandson, and Lily, the housekeeper.

  “Just fine,” Robert replied. “What about you?”

  “Oh, it’s just one explosive thing after another.”

  Sara rolled her eyes.

  “Not sure if you read in the paper that we are hosting a dinner for Cardinal Esrey,” Robert explained. “Although I hired security at the doors and the parking lot, I thought having you at the dinner table could add some closer security for the cardinal without him being aware of it. Are you free Friday night? You could bring Sara.”

  “Unfortunately, Sara isn’t available Friday night but I would be pleased to join the dinner party.”

  Sara motioned to herself, her face revealing hurt and anger.

  “What time would you like me there?”

  “Cocktails are at six. Come around five and we can catch up on old times.”

  “See you then.” Dagger hung up with a smile until he noticed Sara’s stance, arms folded tightly across her waist, eyes drilling him with a laser stare. “I have other plans for you.”

  “What? Eating a grilled cheese while you have lobster and filet?”

 

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