Who Killed the Ghost in the Library: A Ghost writer Mystery (15 page)

“What in the world is going on in this town?” she said. “That makes three bodies this week!”

“Yes, ma’am, it does,” I replied, looking at Walt. “And I think someone at this table has the answers, or can at least point us in the right direction.”

“Excuse me, young lady,” Walt replied indignantly. “I resent the implication that I withheld information in a possible homicide.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” Randy said. “Cliff told us that you both believed Stanley had been murdered, yet within a few days, you declared it a suicide and closed the case. Why?”

“Cliff said he always believed that it was a homicide, not a suicide,” I said. “Did you two ever talk about the case over the years? Did he come to see you in the last week or so to talk about it?”

Walt drank some of his coffee before answering. “It was pretty obvious just by looking at the scene that Stanley had been murdered. The gun was in the wrong hand, for starters. If he had shot himself, the powder burns would have been more pronounced. Most suicides shoot themselves in the head, not the chest. There’s no guarantee that you’ll die if you shoot yourself in the chest.”

“What about suspects?”

“There were a lot,” Walt scoffed. “He was one of the most hated men in town. A lot of the neighbors had it in for him because he was trying to buy their land. If he wasn’t trying to buy the land for his personal use, he was foreclosing on other properties because they couldn’t pay their mortgages. Those were tough times; things like that were happening all over the country. People like Stanley took advantage of those moments.”

“Did you manage to eliminate any of those people as suspects?” Randy said.

“Oh sure,” Walt said. “Just about all of them, as a matter of fact. There was a big community shindig going on in town that night, as well as a church ladies’ tea.”

“The one that Amelia attended with you, right, Grandma?” She nodded. “You told me that they had to sedate her once she heard the news, correct?”

“Yes, they did.”

“How did she manage to get home an hour after finding out if she had been sedated?”

“Cliff Scott picked her up and drove her home,” Walt said. “She didn’t pass out until after we got her home.”

“Where were the kids? I’ve got conflicting stories about that.”

“Cecilia was with us at the tea, but Stanley IV was at home, as far as I know,” she replied.

So
the son could have seen the killer, but since no one knows where he’s at, we couldn’t exactly question him. “What was Ray’s relationship like with the Ashtons?”

“He didn’t care for Stanley III, but he seemed to like Amelia. She was more down to earth than her husband. If Ray had had his way, they would have never moved into the guest house.
But once they did move in, he seemed to warm to the thought of being a kept man, as it were. When we were interviewing people after Stanley’s death, it was mentioned several times that Amelia and Ray spent quite a bit of time together. To be honest, I don’t see how that was possible, because Aggie was always at the main house. But I suppose they could have met somewhere else.”

“Do you think they were having an affair?” Randy said.

“There were plenty of people around town who thought they were,” Grandma Alma said. “I think it was more like two people who shared this big secret that they couldn’t tell to anyone else.”

“You mean about the affair between Aggie and Stanley?” I said.

Grandma Alma nodded. “It wasn’t really a secret; the whole town knew what was going on. Everyone felt so sorry for Amelia. I never understood why she married him, or even stayed married to him. I’m sure her father had something to do with it.”

“Was he still alive when Stanley died?”

“Yes, he was. He took charge of all the details for the funeral. Amelia and the kids stayed at the Underwood house for a couple of weeks after Stanley’s death.”

I chewed on my lower lip, thinking.
“Did anything unusual happen in the two months after his death?”

“Not that I’m aware of, why?” Walt said.

“No particular reason,” I replied, keeping quiet about Stanley’s ghostly presence. “I’m just surprised that Amelia took the kids and left so suddenly.”

“We all found that odd,” he replied. “According to Stanley’s will, she inherited everything. She had lived here all her life, her family was still here, and the kids were happy.”

“Did you know that she signed the house over to Aggie?”

Walt and Grandma Alma looked shocked. “Are you sure?” he said.

I pulled the paperwork out of my messenger bag and showed him. “I didn’t get a chance to ask her about it when I saw her last night.”

“What? You mean she’s in town?” Grandma Alma said. “How does she look?”

“Pretty good,” I admitted.

“Where did you see her?” Walt asked.

“At the Ashton house.”

“What were you doing out there?”
he said.

I looked at Randy. “It’s complicated. Is there anything else you remember about the case, Walt?”

“Yes, Grandpa, what else can you tell us about Stanley’s death?” Mike said from behind me.

Chapter 28

Randy got the deer in the headlights look, as if he had just got caught doing something wrong.

“Michael!” Grandma Alma said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Mike replied, bending over to kiss her cheek. He shook Walt’s hand. “I believe I caught you in the middle of a discussion. You were telling these
civilians
about a police case.”

Ignoring Mike, I looked at Walt. “
There are a couple of things I want to know. Cliff was convinced that Stanley’s death was murder, and he told me that you thought it was, too. If that’s the case, then why did you declare it a suicide and close the case?”

Walt shifted uncomfortably in his chair
and scratched his chin. “You have to understand the way things were back then. The Ashtons and the Underwoods were powerful people. No one did anything in this town that they didn’t know about. Even the mayor answered to them.”

“So the two families put the screws to the mayor, who in turn pressured you to close the case.”

“Something like that.”

“But why, Grandpa?” Mike said. “I’ve never known you to back down from anyone.”

“They said they would foreclose on our house, as well as ruin me financially and professionally. I wouldn’t have been able to find a job anywhere. I had four kids to raise back then. I needed my job.
”

Grandma Alma placed her hand on Walt’s hand while
the rest of us watched. “So the Ashtons and Underwoods forced you to close the case. Before that, who were your suspects?” Mike said.

“
The obvious suspect would have been his wife, Amelia, but she had an airtight alibi. Ray and Aggie Foley, of course, especially Ray. They gave each other an alibi. Amelia’s father didn’t have an alibi for that evening.”

“Do you suppose that’s why you were pressured to close the case?” Randy said.

Walt shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“How did Mr. Underwood react when you questioned him?” I said.

“A bit indignant. He said he didn’t have any reason to kill his son-in-law.”

“I can think of two good reasons,” Randy muttered.

“What are they?” Walt asked.

“Stanley IV and Cecilia,” I told him.

“Cheating on his daughter would be the ultimate deal breaker for Mr. Underwood. He thought the world of her.”

“Did he have any guns in his house?” Mike said.

“Mr. Underwood? I believe he had a double barrel shotgun, a .38 revolver, and two or three other guns. Without the case file, I can’t tell you more than that.”

“What about the Ashtons? Were there guns in their house?”

“I don’t think so. Amelia didn’t want them in the house with the kids.”

“What I don’t understand is how someone got into the house, shot Stanley, and got out without anyone seeing them,” I said.

“We couldn’t figure that out, either,” Walt admitted.

“Grandpa, what was your gut instinct about the murder?” Mike asked him.

Walt rubbed and scratched his chin again. “That it was personal. It was somebody who knew him and really hated him.”

“If the current murders are connected to Stanley’s murder, then whoever killed him is still alive. And they are in town right now,” Mike said.

The first name that came to mind was Amelia. “Surely you don’t think…” I said to Mike.

“She told you that she had been town for a few days, didn’t she?” he pointed out. “Everything started happening a few days ago.”

“Oh come on, Mike. You’re talking about a woman in her eighties killing three people? Aggie was dumped in a well. There’s no way Amelia would have been able to do that on her own. And do you really think she made her way into the hospital, shot a police officer, and then killed Jake Yarborough?”

“Then she had help.”

“And how would she know where to look to find that kind of help?”

“How the heck do I know?” Mike said, exasperated. “She comes from money. It probably wasn’t that hard to buy whatever information she needed.
From there, she could have hired Jake.”

“This is all supposition,” Randy said. “We need to get definitive proof. I’ll be right back.” He pulled out his phone as he walked off.

“Grandpa, would it help you remember if you could get your hands on the old case file?”

Walt nodded. “Of course it would, but we don’t have it. It disappeared years ago.”

Mike and I looked at each other. “We have it,” I said.

“How did you get it?” he said.

“Cliff gave it to Randy shortly before I met with him the day he was killed. I guess it was sort of an insurance policy or something, I don’t know. But we have it. I have a copy at my house.”

“You what?” Mike exclaimed.

“You didn’t think I was going to give you my only lead without making a copy for myself, did you?” Walt chuckled while Mike mumbled a few choice words under his breath. “We can go pick it up and be back here in about an hour.”

“Bring back some burgers and fries,” Grandma Alma said.

“You can’t have that stuff,” I said. “Mother would kill me. So would your doctor.”

“Eh, you’re no fun,” she said.

“I’ll bring you some lemon meringue pie.”

“Deal!”

Randy came back in. “I’m going over to Jo’s place. She’s going to do a search on Amelia’s financial records and anything else she can get her hands on to see if there is a connection between her and Jake.”

“She’s a regular Penelope Garcia, isn’t she?” I said, picking up my bag and standing up.
“Do me a favor. Go to the bakery and buy Grandma a big slice of lemon meringue pie. And get Walt a slice of whatever he wants, too. Mike and I will bring back some lunch for the three of us.”

“Look for us outside when you get back,” Grandma Alma said. “Walt and I always go for a walk in the gardens before lunch.”

I assured her we would, gave her a hug, and followed Mike to the parking lot. I was pretty sure he was going to chew me out for questioning his grandfather. But he didn’t say a word all the way to my house. As we pulled up in front of the house, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“About what?” he said, turning off the car.

“Talking to your grandfather behind your back.”

“It’s good for him to have someone to talk to besides the people at the nursing home,
” he said as we got out.

“So why are you being so quiet?”

“I don’t always have to talk, you know.”

I pulled out my keys to unlock the door. “Then you’re mad about the fact I made a copy of the file before I gave it to you.”

“What do you think?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer because at that moment, there was a loud explosion as Mike’s Crown Victoria blew up.

Chapter 29

“Cam? Cam? Can you hear me?” a muffled voice said through the fog in my head.

I slowly opened one eye, then the other, slowly focusing on the face kneeling over me. “Mike?”

“Yeah. Just lie still. The paramedics are on their way.”

“What happened?”

“My car blew up.”

“It finally blew its top, eh?” I chuckled. “Help me sit up.”

“I don’t think you should.”

“Just shut up and help me sit up.”

He grabbed my good hand and pulled me into a sitting position. Everything spun around for a minute, leaving me a little queasy. “Don’t rush it; go slow,” Mike said.

“Pull me to my feet.” He started to object, but I just glared at him. He sighed, shook his head, and helped me stand up. I leaned against the wall near the front door.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” I said. “First, you blow up a house, and now your car. What’s next, a fireworks display?”

“Very funny,” he said.

We looked at the car, which was on its right side and burning. “There’s a fire extinguisher under the sink in the kitchen,” I said, handing him the keys.

He went inside and got it. He had just started using it when a fire engine and ambulance pulled up. “Hey Mike,” Oliver Malloy said as he got out. “I know things have been a bit slow for us this week, but you don’t have to keep setting fires to give us something to do.”

“Very funny,” Mike replied as two firefighters pulled a hose over and started putting out the flames.

Kim Thurston, the paramedic who treated me when Cliff’s house blew up, came up the steps with her kit. She put it down next to her. “I see Mike’s been showing you a good time again,” she said, pulling out her penlight and checking my eyes.

“I said the same thing to him. I’d rather have a quiet time at home, if you want the honest truth.”

She laughed, but Mike just looked at her rather stoically. “She got knocked out,” he said.

“For how long?”

“Just a
couple of minutes. I think the blast knocked her forward into the wall.”

Kim pressed hard on my forehead near my hairline, and I winced. “Yeah, there’s a knot
and a small cut here,” she said.

“I’ve got an ice pack in the freezer,” I said.

“I’ll get it,” Mike said. He came back with a towel wrapped around the ice pack and handed it to me. “Is her arm okay?”

Kim
took the splint off and checked it. “It looks fine, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to have it looked at just to make sure. Are you alright?” she asked him.

He waved her off. “I’m fine,” he replied, staring at the charred remains of his car.

Oliver came over. “Everyone alright?”

“We’re good,” Mike said. “What do you think?”

“Honestly, I expected more damage than this,” Oliver admitted. “This one seems to be more of a small, controlled blast, compared to the one at Cliff Scott’s house the other day. That one was meant to destroy everything. I’m sure your guys will go over the car with a fine tooth comb. It was probably on a timer. But my guess is this was more like an attention getter.”

“It certainly got my attention,” I said.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oliver,” Mike replied. “We should check the house for structural damage.”

“You mean besides the broken front windows?”

“What?” I said, stepping away from the wall and spinning around quickly to look. I shouldn’t have done that, because it made me dizzy and I stumbled. Mike and Kim grabbed me before I could fall down.

“Easy, Cam,” Mike said. “You need to sit down.”

“She needs to go to the hospital to get checked out,” Kim said.

A patrol car screeched to a halt in front of the house, and
Steve Murphy, one of the senior police officers, jumped out and ran over to us. “Chief, we tried to reach you on your car rad…” he started to say before getting a look at the car. “Well, that explains why you didn’t answer the call.”

“What’s the problem, Murphy?”

“Someone just tried to kill your grandfather at the nursing home.”

Mike started running toward the car. “Wait!” I said, grabbing my bag.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mike and Kim said together.

“Your grandfather was going out to the garden with my grandmother,” I said, passing him on the sidewalk. I’m going with you.”
I’m pretty sure if you have a possible concussion, that running isn’t advised. But whoever came up with that rule didn’t have a grandmother being threatened by a murderer. God bless adrenaline.

“But you need to go to the hospital!” Kim protested.

“I will, after we make sure everyone is okay,” I promised her. I got into the front seat of the patrol car and closed the door. Mike and Steve didn’t say anything; they just wisely got into the car.

The advantage of riding in a patrol car with lights and sirens is that you get to your destination a lot faster without
the fear of getting a ticket. We stopped in front of the nursing home twelve minutes later. There were three other patrol cars there, along with a couple of county sheriff’s cars. An ambulance was parked behind one of the county cars. Ignoring the wave of nausea that swept over me, I ran after Mike and Steve as they ran through the front door.

Nursing homes are like mazes, in my opinion, meant to confuse the mice so they can’t find their way to the cheese. Or in this case, to make sure that the people who lived there couldn’t find their way to the front door. We made a couple of wrong turns before we found the outdoor garden, which is in the center of the complex.

Grandma Alma was sitting in her wheelchair, being checked out by one paramedic while his partner checked out Walt, who was down on the ground. “Grandpa!” Mike said, rushing to his side.

“I’m alright,” Walt said.

He didn’t look alright. There was a bruise on his cheek, a gash on his forehead, and he looked pale. The paramedic treating him looked up at Mike. “I think he might have broken a hip.”

“What about her?” Mike said, pointing at Grandma Alma.

“Sprained wrist, nothing serious.”

Mike turned to the deputy that was standing nearby. “What happened here?”

“We got a call about an assault in progress. By the time we got here, your men were already searching for the suspect.”

His radio crackled. “Suspect in custody.”

“Have them bring him to us.”

The deputy nodded and relayed the message. “What happened, Ms. Alma?”
Mike asked.

“I
went back to my room to get my binoculars. Walt thought he spotted a bird’s nest in that tree over there,” she said, pointing to a nearby tree. “When I came back out, someone dressed in black was beating up your grandfather. He fell to the ground, and the person pulled out a knife and stood over him, ready to stab him. I rolled up behind him and started yelling and beating him with my cane.” She held up her cane, which was bent in half. “I might have gotten a bit carried away. Whoever it was gave up and ran off.”

“What were you thinking, Grandma?” I chided her. “You could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t about to sit by and be a helpless victim, young lady,” she said sternly. “You know me better than that!”

“She was great,” Walt
said, smiling with pride.

My head started spinning again, and I sat down on the bench next to Grandma Alma’s wheelchair. “You smell like smoke,” she said, getting a good whiff of me.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “Someone tried to blow us up.”

“I don’t think they were trying to do that,” Mike said. “Remember what Oliver said? He thought it was just an attention getter. I think someone set that small charge to distract us.”

“So that they could come here and…” I left the rest of it unsaid. “Are you convinced now that this has something to do with that old case?”

He nodded. There was a commotion behind us, and two of Mike’s officers brought the suspect into the garden. He was dressed all in black, with a black ski mask covering his face. Looking at him closely, I noticed he didn’t look that tall or muscular. “Mike, I don’t think that’s a man.”

He reached over and pulled off the mask. A tangled mess of red hair fell down.
“It’s the woman from the hospital last night,” he said.

Well, shut my mouth and call me a kumquat. I didn’t see that one coming.