Big Ghosts Don’t Cry

by Danielle Garrett

  “Do you know anyone else like you? Someone who could summon her for us?”

  “I told you I don’t use my powers, so what makes you think I go around blabbing about it?”

  “It was just a question.”

  Karla frowned. “It’s not like there’s an annual convention in Boca for this kind of thing, you know.”

  “Preaching to the choir,” Flapjack interjected. “Am I right, Scar?”

  I closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath.

  “Don’t mind her,” Flapjack said to Karla. “She’s just got low blood sugar.”

  “Flapjack! Do you mind?” I hissed.

  “Not at all. But, you know how to shut me up.” He grinned, flashing all his sharp teeth.

  “We. Are. Not. Buying. Fish!”

  Karla watched our exchange with something that looked like a mix between horror and confusion. “I have to get going,” she interjected. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

  I bobbed my head and she scurried away.

  “She’s odd, isn’t she?” Flapjack mused.

  “Pal, I don’t think we have a lot of objectivity on the matter.”

  “Huh. Fair enough.”

  I grabbed a few last items and hurried through the checkout line. Lucas was still bent over his keyboard when I arrived. He glanced up as I shut the front door, and then stood to come help carry the paper bags inside.

  He chuckled as he unpacked one of the bags, stacking a box of crackers and two varieties of cookies beside each other on top of the fridge. “I’m pretty sure this is the textbook example of why not to shop when you’re hungry.”

  “You’ll thank me later,” I told him, ribbing him in the side as I passed behind him to toss an empty bag into the recycle bin.

  “Probably. It might be a long wait before we get anything. I called my friend Daly and passed over the information for a couple of accounts I flagged. He’s a computer whiz who knows how to crack databases like the one the dating site is using. He’ll run down the information, IP addresses, names, that kind of thing, and pass it back to us.”

  “You mean, like hacking?”

  “Yeah.”

  I cringed. “Isn’t that illegal?”

  “The alternative is that we pass it on to the chief, wait for him to get a warrant, and then let the dating app’s lawyers battle for the protection of their clients in court. By the time that’s done, the entire harbor could be crawling with demons.”

  I chewed my lower lip.

  “One of these guys was straight-up nasty to her. Name calling and threatening her. I don’t know if it’s Putnam, but we need to find out who it is, regardless. Everything on the site is supposed to be secure, but if he was able to track down Sabrina’s personal data, like her address …” He trailed off, his meaning clear. “Daly will get us his IP address, and we can pass it to Chief Lincoln and let him handle it from there.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  Lucas reached for the cookies and handed me the box. “We wait.”

  Chapter 15

  Lucas was out for a run when I woke up Saturday morning. I dressed quickly, scalded my tongue on a too-hot cup of coffee, and hurried downstairs to open the shop. Saturday’s were Lily Pond’s busiest days, tourist season or not, and Lizzie couldn’t be expected to manage the whole place by herself. So, my detective cap was firmly off for the rest of the day.

  By nine o’clock, I had a good head start on the day’s orders and was contemplating running to Siren’s Song for a second cup of coffee before opening. The side door opened and Lizzie shuffled inside, bundled in a baggy sweatshirt and a rain jacket. Her usually straight hair was up in a messy topknot and it didn’t look like she was wearing any make-up. “Morning, Scarlet,” she said, her tone flat.

  “Hey, Lizzie. Everything okay?”

  “Mhmm.”

  “And the award goes to ….”

  I leapt out of my skin at Flapjack’s voice and whipped around to find him perched on the tall stool beside the work bench. I glowered at him but held my tongue. He grinned. “Morning, Scar.”

  Gwen popped into view next, wearing a mile-wide smile. “Scarlet! I have great news!”

  “Not now,” I mouthed, jerking my head toward Lizzie.

  Gwen’s smile wilted as she dropped whatever gossip she’d been about to spread.

  Lizzie hung her coat up and trudged to her work bench. She sagged onto the stool and leaned against the bench. “Scarlet, can I ask you something kind of personal?”

  I rounded my own station and went back to working on the bouquet I’d been putting together when she’d arrived. “Sure.”

  “Well, you remember how Bryant asked me to that barbecue earlier this week?”

  “Yeah. I saw you two together. You looked like you were having a good time.”

  “We did. He actually asked me to the movies. We were supposed to go last night. But then, like an hour before, he called and said he couldn’t make it.”

  I frowned at the rose in my hand. “Did he give you a reason why?”

  “No. And he didn’t try to reschedule.” Lizzie heaved a sigh. “I think he just lost interest or maybe found someone he likes better, but then he texted this morning, so now I’m confused all over again.”

  “What did the text say?”

  “‘Hey, Lizzie. Hope you have a good day.’”

  “Hmm.” I looked up from the roses and studied Lizzie. “To me, that seems like a good sign. The text, I mean. But it’s weird that he didn’t give you an explanation for the missed date. Or at least try to make plans for another night.”

  She nodded, her face crestfallen. “I don’t know whether he’s interested or not. The whole thing is so confusing. I don’t want to play games, but he’s really cool and we had a lot of fun, so I don’t want to overreact and mess the whole thing up.”

  “Did you text back?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” Lizzie replied, glancing at her phone. “What do you think I should do, Scarlet?”

  “I’ll tell you what she needs to do,” Gwen started. “She needs to put on a cute dress and maybe a little shiny lip gloss, and then go over to the hardware store and show him what he’s missing out on!”

  I frowned at her. Yeah … that was so not the answer.

  “Honestly, Lizzie, I think you should just be direct with him,” I said, plucking up another rose. “Otherwise you’re both stuck in this weird cycle. For all we know, he’s over at Hank’s, wondering if you’re interested in him. So, just take the guess work out. Let him know you’re open to going on another date.”

  “Be direct?” Gwen repeated. “Hmm. How’s that working with you and Lucas and the whole ring-a-ding talk?”

  I shot her a quick scowl and went back to arranging the bouquet of a dozen roses.

  “Is that how you got Lucas?” Lizzie asked.

  I laughed. “Oh, our first meeting was very direct. He tackled me into the grass.”

  Lizzie gasped. “What? How have I never heard this story?”

  Smiling, I placed the final rose and then crossed the studio to grab a skein of ribbon for the vase. On my way back to my station, I paused and leaned against the counter. “Lucas was working security for that show Mints on the Pillows when they were here in town renovating the Lilac House. And I … well, I was trespassing. It was dark, he didn’t know who I was, so he tackled me and waved a Taser in my face.”

  “Ah, young love,” Flapjack quipped.

  Lizzie giggled. “That’s a story for the grandkids someday, huh?”

  I shrugged and pushed off the counter. “Maybe.”

  Gwen floated to stand beside Flapjack. “You’ve known her the longest. Has she always been this difficult?”

  “She was easier before Hayward came along. I think Sir Cranky-Pants has worn off on her.”

  I glared at both of them.

  “What?” Gwen asked.

  They were lucky the iron omelet pan was out of reach.

  “Tell you what,” I said, placing th
e ribbon on the bench. “I was thinking of going out for coffee. I’ll bring you back a mocha. My treat.”

  Lizzie perked. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course!” I went into the small office and rooted through my purse to find a ten dollar bill. “Can you put a ribbon on that vase and put it in the case? The card’s on the front counter with the order slip.”

  Lizzie nodded. “On it. Thanks, Scarlet.”

  “No problem.” I slipped my raincoat on and tucked the ten dollars in my pocket. “Be back in a few.”

  Gwen and Flapjack floated out after me.

  “Now can I tell you the news?” Gwen asked.

  I sighed. “All right. What’s up?”

  “Well, you remember how we didn’t find any ghosts in Pine Shoals?”

  I nodded.

  “Hayward thought it was weird, so we went back this morning, early, and it turns out there are ghosts there, but they have this weird thing of only coming out at night.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. They’re strange, to say the least, but we found one who haunts Sabrina’s neighborhood and you’re never going to guess what she told us!”

  I stopped walking. “She saw the murderer?”

  “No, but she said there was a strange van parked across the street from Sabrina’s house almost every night for a week before the attack. And she has the license plate number.”

  “Gwen, this is huge! Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  She shrugged. “I tried, but Lizzie was there and you told me to keep quiet.”

  “Gwen, you should have told me it was about the case! I thought you were there to tell me something went amiss with Ms. Marshall’s perm or that some celebrity had a baby.”

  “Why would you think that?” Gwen asked.

  “I—I—oh, never mind.” I shook my head and dug in my jean’s pocket for my phone. “What’s the plate number? I’ll text it to Lucas and see if he can figure out who it’s registered to.”

  Gwen told me the number and I fired it off to Lucas with a quick explanation.

  “Where is Hayward now?” I asked.

  “He’s still in Pine Shoals, trying to see if there’s anything else he can find out.”

  I looked down at Flapjack. “Why aren’t you with him?”

  For all their grievances against one another, it was rare they went more than a few hours apart.

  “It’s raining,” Flapjack complained.

  “What’s your point? You’re a ghost.”

  “Well, when you’re dead, you can see if you enjoy the rain,” the cat groused.

  I rolled my eyes to the drizzly sky.

  “I’ll go see if there’s more news,” Gwen said.

  “Thank you, Gwen,” I said, placing extra emphasis for Flapjack’s benefit.

  He scoffed and stalked into the street, cutting through a passing truck before sliding into the coffee house.

  “And you think I’m difficult,” I muttered to Gwen.

  She laughed. “Only when it comes to romance.”

  Frowning, I stepped off the curb. “See you later, Gwen!”

  Flapjack was sitting on top of the espresso machine when I stepped inside the quaint coffee house. It took every bit of resolve not to scream at him to get down. Cassie was at the register and greeted me with a warm smile. “Morning, Scarlet!”

  “Good morning, Cassie.”

  I ordered two large mochas and had Cassie bag up two chocolate chip scones—with Flapjacks commentary the entire time—and by the time the drinks were placed on the counter, my phone was buzzing. I stepped off to the side and pulled it from my jacket pocket. It was Lucas.

  “Hey,” I answered. “I’m at the coffee shop. You want me to order you something?”

  “Not right now. Listen, Scarlet, I got your text and ran the plate.”

  My breath hitched. “And?”

  “You’re not going to believe who that plate belongs to. Russell Hutchins.”

  Chapter 16

  I left Lizzie in charge of closing and hurried upstairs a little after three o’clock to meet Lucas in my apartment. He was dressed in jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, and his black boots. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just call Chief Lincoln? He’s not going to be happy if we keep this to ourselves.”

  “Maybe not, but even this new link is circumstantial. Having a van outside his ex’s house looks bad, but it’s not technically illegal. If Chief Lincoln brings him down to the station, a guy like Russ will just lawyer up and the whole thing goes nowhere.”

  “What makes you think we’ll get any further? He literally slammed the door in our faces last time we tried to talk to him.”

  “We’re running out of time, Scarlet. We have to try.”

  “Maybe you should tell him about the ghost thing,” Gwen suggested. “Tell him you talked to Sabrina and she knows what he did. That might rattle him into a confession!”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  Lucas, mistaking the aim of my comment, folded his arms. “Okay, then what do you suggest?”

  “No, no. Your plan is fine. You’re right. I was talking to Gwen. She thinks I should tell him I can talk to Sabrina.”

  “Aha.” He pulled his keys from one pocket and then checked the other to make sure his phone was there. “If he stonewalls us again, we’ll turn the info over to the police. Although, I don’t know how we’re going to explain where you got the information about the van and the plate number.”

  I cringed. “Yeah. I didn’t think about that.”

  Lucas drove his SUV to Pine Shoals and we parked in the same spot as the last time we’d paid Mr. Hutchins a visit. “Here goes nothing,” Lucas said, killing the engine.

  “I’ll take the upstairs,” Flapjack told Gwen and Hayward, who sat on either side of him in the backseat. “You two look on the first floor.”

  “I’ll look in the garage. If the van’s parked here, maybe I can find a clue inside,” Gwen agreed.

  Hayward nervously adjusted his top hat. “Be careful, Lady Gwen. And you as well, Lady Scarlet.”

  I nodded and threw my door open. “Let’s go.”

  Lucas followed and we made our way up the steep driveway. Lucas rang the bell and the ghosts slipped past the walls, entering the home without invitation. I doubted they’d find anything, mostly because none of them had Sturgeon’s ability to sift through solid objects. Anything they could find would have to be out in plain sight and I doubted a man like Russelll would be sloppy enough to leave definitive proof out in the open.

  Still, it kept them busy and it certainly couldn’t hurt things.

  The door opened, and Miranda appeared on the other side. “Oh, hello, again.”

  “Hello, Miranda. We are actually here to talk to your dad. Is he home?”

  “Um, sure. Let me go get him. What was your name again?”

  “Scarlet,” I said.

  “Okay. Do you want to come inside and wait?”

  I glanced at Lucas and he nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”

  She led us into a sitting room off the foyer but neither of us took a seat. Miranda smiled and then ducked out to go find her father. My nerves cinched tighter with each passing moment, and when Russ finally stormed into the room, I felt like a Jack-in-the-Box about to burst out of my own skin.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, fire flashing in his eyes. “I have half a mind to call the cops and have you both arrested for trespassing, but I don’t want to scare my daughter. She’s been through enough!”

  “Go ahead and call the police, Russell. We’d love to share with them some of the information we’ve dug up in the last few days about your involvement in Sabrina’s murder.”

  Russell swore. “For the last time, I had nothing to do with her death!”

  “Prove it,” Lucas said. “Answer our questions.”

  Russ hesitated.

  Lucas held his hands out. “Listen,
we can either deal with this here and now, or we can pass along this information to the police and you can spend your whole day down at the station answering their questions. You’ll have to call a lawyer and make a whole thing of it. Or, we can just have a quick conversation.”

  Russell glanced over his shoulder and then moved further into the room, dropping his voice low. “You have five minutes, so start talking.”

  “Here’s what we know,” Lucas began, his tone commanding. “You had a burner phone that you used to communicate with Scott Putnam, a violent felon. Those calls stopped once Sabrina was murdered. Then a van, registered to you, was spotted outside Sabrina’s home for several nights right before the murder. Of all the people the cops have looked into, you have the strongest motive, by far. You were bleeding money to pay alimony and child support, and even with that, Sabrina wouldn’t agree to let you alter the custody agreement so you could accept a new job offer and move out of state. With her gone, all of those problems vanish, virtually overnight. So, you tell me, why should we believe you when you tell us you had nothing to do with this?”

  Russell ran a hand over his jaw. “Scott Putnam is a piece of human trash. The reason I was calling him was to tell him that if he didn’t leave Sabrina alone, I’d personally see to it that he found his way back to a prison cell. I used a burner phone so he couldn’t trace it and come here to my house. I called him one time after Sabrina died. I thought maybe he was the one who killed her. He didn’t answer so I threw the phone out.”

  “Did Sabrina ever meet him in person?” I asked.

  “No. He messaged her on some app. My daughter told me Sabrina was dating again. I didn’t have an issue with that. It was her life, right? I asked Sabrina about it, just to make sure she was being careful and to keep it away from Miranda going forward. That’s when she told me about this Putnam guy. They’d texted a little, but then he got weird and she cut it off. I asked her for his number and told her I’d take care of him. As far as I know, they never took it past exchanging phone numbers.”

  “Did you tell the police? Afterward, I mean?”

  Russ shrugged. “Sure, I told them about Scott. They didn’t seem interested, but said they’d look into it.”