The Ghost Maker

by Kara Lane Barstow

  “I’ll think about it.” Daphne had been scanning the nursery when she caught a movement in the park. Searching the park she saw the last person she wanted to see. Russ. He stood in the gazebo, alone. He was staring at her and Eric.

  She was about to point him out when Eric said, “there’s Chris.”

  Daphne tore her eyes from Russ to watch Chris make his way past the nursery to his car. On his shoulder he carried a shotgun. If he turned his head toward the park, he would see Russ. “We need to stop him before he spots Russ.” Daphne whispered to Eric before hurrying across the street to waylay Chris.

  Eric caught up with her just as they reached Chris and whispered back, “Where’s Russ?”

  Instead of pointing and drawing Chris’s attention toward the gazebo, Daphne just turned her head to Eric and said “gazebo,” before turning back to Chris. “We’ve been looking for you. Where did you go?”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like that, but I wanted to find Russ.”

  “And do what?” Daphne asked indicating the shotgun. “Kill him?”

  Chris scoffed, “of course not, I only have this to force him to turn himself in. But I haven’t been able to find him.”

  They all turned as two sheriff vehicles screeched around the corner, coming to skidding stops near them. The sheriff left his vehicle and one of his deputies, who Daphne recognized as Becky, followed close behind him. The door to Eric’s house opened and Nicole came out. She rushed over and confronted the sheriff.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that Stephanie had bought Chris a graduation present the day she disappeared?”

  The sheriff turned his attention from the trio and gaped at Nicole. “What are you talking about?”

  As Nicole repeated her question, Eric tugged on Daphne’s arm. “Who’s in the gazebo?”

  “Russ.”

  Eric glanced over to the gazebo and then back to Daphne. The confusion on his face made her stomach drop. She swore. “You don’t see him do you?”

  Eric shook his head. “But you do?”

  She nodded. “Which means…”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah.”

  Moving carefully to avoid drawing attention to themselves, Eric and Daphne started to move toward the gazebo.

  “Where do you two think you’re going? You stay right there.” The sheriff bellowed at them, ignoring Nicole and focusing on them.

  “I think you should check the gazebo,” Eric suggested.

  “Why?”

  Nicole was watching Eric and Daphne exchange looks. “I think you should do what Eric said, Martin.”

  He looked back at Nicole, shook his head before stalking over to the gazebo. Without speaking, the others followed him. As they drew closer to the gazebo, Daphne felt her insides shift. She started taking shallow breaths to keep her stomach from roiling. It took a tremendous effort to keep walking forward.

  “You ok?” Eric asked. She shook her head. He started to slow down but she grabbed his arm and pulled him forward.

  The gazebo was partially enclosed with half walls blocking the view of the interior area, the only opening was an archway where the sheriff stood staring inside. He turned on the group as they reached him. “Stay back. This is a crime scene. Everyone, get back to the street. Becky, get them moving and then call it in that we have a dead body. Bring back the crime scene kit. We’ll cordon off the area.”

  “What’s going on?” Nicole asked Eric and Daphne, “Who’s dead?”

  “Russ.” They said in unison.

  “I’m dead?” Asked Russ, startling Daphne as he floated out the outskirts of the group as they followed Becky.

  “Yes, you are,” Daphne whispered to him without getting closer. This was one ghost that she had no intention of connection to. She made sure to keep Eric between them to avoid Russ touching her.

  “Yes I am what?” Eric asked glancing down at Daphne.

  “Not you — Russ. His ghost is just on your other side.” She whispered to him, making sure no one else could hear her. “You were up there by your body, what did you see?”

  “I was shot in the back, shotgun.” He said. “I don’t remember being shot.” He thought about it for a minute and then said, “I’m a ghost, but you can see me and hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of freak are you?”

  “Really? You’re insulting me? The only person with whom you can communicate?”

  He shrugged. “You’re still a freak.”

  “Fine and you’re a murderer,” She shot back.

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t kill anybody.” He sounded truly affronted by the accusation, but Daphne knew what she had seen.

  “You killed Stephanie. You strangled her.”

  “No I didn’t!” He shouted at her, but she refused to back down.

  “She told me.” Daphne stated. While technically Stephanie couldn’t remember how she died, she had shown it to Daphne. There was no way Daphne was going to tell Russ about making a connection with Stephanie, because there was no way Daphne would connect with Russ, if she could help it. “You approached her in Chris’s cabin, you asked her to go away with you, then when she said no, you strangled her.”

  He glared at her. “I don’t care what she said. I didn’t kill her.”

  Daphne shook her head, she wasn’t going to get into a shouting match with a ghost. Becky was already shooting her odd looks, probably thinking she was arguing with Eric.

  Daphne ignored Russ, except for keeping him at a distance, as he ranted and raved about his innocence. Not able to get a response or a rise out of Daphne, he finally calmed down enough to speak more calmly and truthfully. “Ok, I admit, I attacked her. But I didn’t kill her.”

  Daphne cast him a look of disbelief. She wasn’t going to buy that from him. She knew what she had seen.

  “It’s true,” he reached for her but Daphne side-stepped his outstretched arm. However, Eric couldn’t see it, so the arm went right through his chest. Eric shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.

  “It felt like an ice cube went through me, “ he complained.

  “Russ’s arm passed through you,” Daphne explained.

  Eric glared at where Daphne had been looking. “Knock it off,” he said, “and keep your hands and the rest of you away from her and me.”

  “Sorry,” Russ mumbled, even though Eric couldn’t hear him.

  “He said he was sorry,” Daphne translated. “What were you saying about it being true?”

  Russ frowned at her but said, “Okay, I did approach Stephanie in the cabin and I lost my temper.”

  “I know, go on.”

  “I attacked her; I choked her. When she passed out, I panicked and I stopped. I checked her pulse, and she was still alive.”

  It was Daphne’s turn to frown. “She died.”

  “But it wasn’t me. I didn’t kill her,” he said. He sounded desperate now, and Daphne wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. “Look, my Dad killed my mom by choking her to death. When I attacked Stephanie, I was in a blind rage. When she passed out, I could see my mother’s face. I let go. I swear, I checked her pulse, and she was still alive.”

  “And you left her there? In the cabin? Unconscious and vulnerable?”

  He hung his head. “I panicked. I knew that when she woke up she would be pissed off and she’d tell Chris, and probably the sheriff, what I had done. The sheriff would have arrested me, but Chris would have killed me. I heard someone coming, so I figured she’d be fine. I ran back to my aunt’s house, packed, and left town. I was planning on leaving town in any case, I just moved the time up.”

  Daphne considered his words. If he was telling the truth, then someone else had come across Stephanie before she regained consciousness and kil
led her. That didn’t seem likely, but why would Russ claim that she was still alive when he left her? It wasn’t like he could go to jail now. He already admitted to choking her; he could have just said that he choked her in a blind rage and left it at that. Although it could just be wishful thinking on his part. They had reached the street where Becky told them to wait before she took a step toward her car.

  “Becky,” Daphne called out, stopping her. “Do you know when Russ was seen by the gas station attendant? The exact time? The day that Stephanie disappeared?”

  If Becky thought it an odd series of questions, she didn’t say anything. She simply responded that it was around 2:30 that day and then continued on to her vehicle.

  “Why do you want to know that?” Eric asked.

  “Because Russ says he didn’t kill Stephanie. He admits to choking her until she passed out, but he said when he left her lying on the floor in the cabin, she was still alive.”

  “He’s lying.” Eric said without hesitation.

  “Maybe, probably,” she amended when his eyes flashed. “But why lie? He admits to attacking her. Admits to choking her. But he says that he checked her pulse, and she was alive. It was the reason he bolted out of town so quickly — he was afraid she’d have him arrested or that Chris would kill him.”

  “I don’t know, but if he didn’t kill her, who did? Who would have had the time?”

  By now everyone, but Becky were gathered around Eric, Daphne, and unbeknownst to them, Russ. They were listening to the discussion. They stood at the edge of the park while Becky continued on to her car. A van pulled up, and Becky spoke with the man who exited from the passenger seat. He was wearing white coveralls and putting on gloves. Daphne guessed that he was the medical examiner or whatever passed for one in such a small town.

  Daphne had even more questions. “See, it’s the time that I’m having trouble with on this,” she said. “Stephanie looked at her phone at 2:15. She was expecting Chris to arrive by 2:30. According to Becky, Russ was seen getting gas at 2:30. When would he have had the time to bury her body so that she was never found in all this time?”

  Chris nodded, “you’re right. If she was in a shallow grave, I don’t think she would have stayed hidden and Russ didn’t know the area. It was, and still is, private property.”

  “You know, you are so interested in Stephanie, what about me? I’m dead now, don’t you care who killed me? Maybe the same person who killed Stephanie also killed me?”

  Daphne glanced at Russ. “Do you know who killed you?”

  “Shot in the back, remember?” He gestured toward Chris who still held the shotgun. “But odds are, it’s the guy with the gun.”

  “You’re saying Chris shot you, but you were shot in the back and couldn’t see who shot you?” Daphne asked. “So you’re just guessing?”

  Russ shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past him to lure me out in the middle of the night and kill, me and he’s the one standing there with a gun.”

  “You were killed at night?”

  “I think so,” Russ confirmed. “I remember leaving my aunt’s party. When was that?”

  “Last night. Where did you go?”

  “I went to my aunt’s house, but before I got in the car, I found a note. Someone had put a note under the window blade of my car.”

  “Who?”

  “They didn’t sign it, did they?”

  “Then what did it say?”

  “To meet them in the gazebo at 2 AM if I want proof that Stephanie was seen after I had left town. The note’s in the left back pocket of my jeans.”

  “And you went?” Daphne asked, dumbfounded. She knew her tone and her question were insulting, but really, how stupid could he be?

  “Hey,” Russ protested. “I thought maybe it was someone who overheard the argument with Chris and the sheriff and wanted to help.”

  “Then why didn’t they say something in the party? Why have you meet them somewhere that is somewhat isolated and at a time when no one is likely to be around?”

  “Well obviously it was to kill me, but I didn’t know that then.” He fumed for a bit before turning to follow Becky and the medical examiner as they made their way to the gazebo. “I’m done talking to you. I don’t like you.”

  “Yeah, right back at you.” Daphne muttered.

  Chapter Twenty

  With Russ gone, Daphne noticed the group that had formed around her. Chris and Nicole were watching her. Nicole’s eyes were round and her mouth somewhat open. Chris held his mouth shut tight, and Daphne wondered if he was literally biting his tongue to keep from talking. Only Eric seemed at ease and patient as he let Daphne conclude her what seemed to be a one-sided conversation.

  “So?” Eric asked. “What did he have to say?”

  Daphne relayed the information quickly because she could see the sheriff and Becky converging on their small group. She had just told them about the note asking for the meeting when the sheriff and his deputy joined them.

  “Nicole, you should go home. The rest of you go as well, except Chris. I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”

  “I’ll stay with Chris,” Daphne told him.

  “Me too,” stated Eric.

  “And me.” Nicole added. “I was unfair to Chris earlier, I want to make sure you don’t accuse him of anything either.”

  “Nicole,” the sheriff said, the patience of the tone coming off a little strained. “I’m not accusing Chris of anything, but I do have a dead body that has been shot with a shotgun, and I have a person who wasn’t really fond of the dead person holding a shotgun. I have to ask questions and run some tests.”

  “What kind of tests?” Chris asked.

  “I need to see if you’ve fired that shotgun recently.” He said, taking it from him using his gloved hand. He nodded to Becky who held a cotton swab that she had coated in some liquid out of a bottle. She ran it inside the barrel and out and even around the trigger. She looked at the swab for a few seconds before shaking her head at the sheriff. He sighed and took the gun back. He gave her another head nod, aiming it toward Chris. Using a new swab and more drops, she ran it along Chris’s hands, checking his palms and his fingers. The swab showed no change. Again she shook her head at the sheriff before enclosing both swabs and labeling them.

  A shout made them all turn. Debbie, Kevin and Pamela were marching across the park. Debbie looked ready to rumble with the sheriff. “What do you think you’re doing? What is going on here?” She demanded, putting herself between the sheriff and Chris.

  “I’m doing my job.” The sheriff told her, “which includes interviewing your son.”

  “On what grounds?” She demanded.

  “Chris, why are you carrying a shotgun?” Kevin asked.

  “Which was my next question,” the sheriff said, stepping around Debbie so he could face Chris again. “The tests showed that this gun hasn’t been fired and that you haven’t fired a gun recently. So why were you carrying it?”

  “I was looking for Russ. I wanted to make a citizen’s arrest.” Chris stated.

  “On what grounds?” It was the sheriff’s turn to ask, wariness coating his tone and stance.

  “He killed Stephanie,” Chris said simply. “He choked her. I wanted him arrested for it.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake, where did you get that idea? You think because Russ left town without her, which we all believed at the time, that the only other explanation is that he killed her first?” The sheriff asked, temper replacing the fatigue. “You should have stayed in Palo Alto.”

  “I’m not making it up!” Chris shouted back at him. “Daphne saw him do it.” He had the decency to close his eyes and swear at himself before flashing an apologetic look toward Daphne. The sheriff, Pamela and Chris’s parents were staring at her with differing degrees of resentment and curiosity. Scratch that, only Pamela looked curious. The
others looked ready shove her in a box and ship her back to Stanford.

  “Do you want to explain that?” The sheriff said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you in this town before. Are you saying you saw Russ and Stephanie somewhere and saw him kill her? Did you report it?”

  “No. I saw Stephanie’s ghost last night, and I connected with her today. She showed me what happened to her. Russ did attack her, so I assumed he had killed her. Since she’s dead.”

  The sheriff just stared at her without saying a word. She wasn’t even sure he was still breathing. It was making her uncomfortable.

  It was Kevin who broke the silence. “This is ridiculous. There are no such thing as ghosts.” His eyes speared Daphne. “Look at the trouble you’ve caused. You have Chris carrying a shotgun and almost getting himself arrested because you made up some story about Stephanie being dead. There is no real proof that she is dead. It is more likely that she left town, just like she said in her note to Chris.”

  “Dad,” Chris started but his father silenced him with a look.

  “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’re done dragging my son into whatever sick fantasy you have created.”

  “Kevin,” Debbie said, attempting to soothe him. “I don’t think she meant to cause Chris any trouble. I think she told Chris that she saw Stephanie’s ghost so that he would give up on Stephanie and go back to dating her.” She turned to Daphne, “I know you think you are in love with my son,” she said. “I don’t blame you for trying to hold onto him, but you need to let him go. He needs to get over Stephanie in his own way and move on. You need to accept that he doesn’t love you.”

  Anger, embarrassment, and frustration warred within Daphne. She had a profound urge to ship herself back to Stanford, if only to get away from this fiasco. Did Chris’s parents really think that she would make up a murder in order to reclaim a lost boyfriend? Is that what they really thought? The look of pity on the sheriff’s face enraged her.

  “You actually believe that I would lie about something like this? Make up a story just to hang on to a boyfriend? Really?”