Who Killed the Ghost in the Library: A Ghost writer Mystery (24 page)

“When I got to the well, I couldn’t believe it when I saw the rope. That hadn’t been part of my dream. Just now, when I had that dream again, the rope wasn’t there. But when I got to the bottom, there was a bright light. Aggie and Ray were at the bottom. They were holding hands, then their faces melted away and they started laughing as they reached out for me.” A sob escaped.

He sat me up, moved the pillows out of the way, sat down and laid me down so my head rested on his left leg. “Maybe this is a sign,” he said, gently stroking my hair.

“What do you mean?”

“You know the old saying, ‘there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel’. Maybe this is a sign that this is almost over.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’re a little bit psychic.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, think about it a minute,” he replied. “You had this dream a couple of times before today. Then it really happened. Now you’ve had it again, but you never saw the bottom of the well before. It was always dark.
But now you can see it, and you saw the Foleys. You’ve always suspected they were a part of solving this whole mystery. Maybe you’re right.”

“You’re talking about premonitions, Mike.”

“Right.”

“Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

“You’ve never seen or talked to a ghost before, either,” he pointed out. “What’s your point?”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. What happened to wanting me to stay out of your investigation?” I said, sitting up.

Mike rubbed his left hand over his face. “I’m in over my head with some of this, especially when it comes to the ghost.”

“Oh, and I’m not?”

“I didn’t say that, but you’re handling it better than I am, and you’ve made more progress on that front. You’ve gotten information about what happened back then that we couldn’t have gotten from the old investigation files.”

“There was a cover up, Mike,” I said, “and I’m pretty sure Cliff Scott was involved.”

“Unfortunately, he isn’t around to confirm that.”

“But you think I’m right,” I said. He shrugged. “Who paid him off?”

“Damn good question.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. Mike reached out, grabbed my hand and pulled
me toward him. “Lie down and go back to sleep. That’s the best thing for you right now.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to have that dream again,” I protested, but I put my head on his left leg again.

“I’ll be right here,” he said, stroking my hair again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been friends, sort of, for years. And now, all of a sudden, you’re interested in me. Are you toying with me just so I’ll keep you in the loop?”

“You’ve been dating David the snob for the last two years.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I’m not the type of guy to move in on another man’s girl.”

“You should have saved me from him sooner,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t like being the damsel in distress,” he teased.

“I would have played it to the hilt to get away from the self-centered one.”

Mike laughed and then got quiet. “Don’t do anything like this again, Cam,” he said.

“Do what?”

“What you did today. When you were down there, and you weren’t responding when I called out for you, I thought I had blown my chance. I shouldn’t have asked you to go out there with me.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask,” I said groggily. “I offered to go.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I should have stuck to my guns and kept you out of this investigation.” He stopped stroking my hair. “When I got to the bottom and saw you sitting there, I…I wanted to pull you close and hold on for dear life. You took ten years off my life today, woman.” Silence greeted his statement. “Cam?” He leaned forward and sighed. He pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and draped it over me as I slept.

Chapter 41

I don’t remember a whole lot about the next few hours, at least not until my parents showed up. I was quietly chewed out for putting myself in grave danger (like I had done it intentionally) and getting hurt again. The chewing out also came with a home cooked meal of Mom’s Green Chile casserole, fresh guacamole with chips and sopapillas from a local Mexican bakery. I gladly took the chewing out to get the food. Wouldn’t you?

Randy and Jo dropped by about thirty minutes after my parents left. Jo was wearing another broomstick skirt, this time in various shades of brown, with a beige t-shirt and Birkenstocks. This time, she was wearing brown horn-rimmed glasses to match her outfit. “Randy told me what happened,” she said, coming over to give me a hug. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be okay in a few days,” I said, wincing as she hugged me harder.

“Go easy on her, babe,” Randy said, “she’s got bruises everywhere
from her fall.”

Jo pulled back. “Oh, I am so sorry! He told me that, but I just got excited when I saw you sitting there. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

I assured her she hadn’t. Smiling, she sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table and pulled out her laptop. “What are you doing?”

“We found some stuff this afternoon, and we couldn’t wait to show you,” Randy replied. “I know you need your rest, but we thought this was something you both needed to know.”

Jo’s fingers flew across her keyboard. “Amelia Ashton has checked out of the Marriott.”

“Are you sure?” Mike said, leaning forward.

“Positive,” she said.

“So where is she now?”

Jo looked up at Randy, who nodded. “She’s at the Ashton house.”

“She’s what?” I said. “How do you know?”

“The concierge said that she asked for a cab, and the doorman overheard her tell the cab driver to take her to the Ashton house. The cabbie wasn’t happy about it because it was a long drive, but she gave him a big tip and he changed his mind.”

“How reliable is your information?” Mike asked her.

“Very,” she said. “My cousin is the doorman.”

Mike stood up and walked into the kitchen. We could hear him talking to someone. “She left there
years ago because she didn’t want to live with a ghost,” I said. “So why is she suddenly interested in living with him again?”

“To lay claim to the house?” Randy suggested.

“If she signed the house over to Aggie, then it belongs to her heirs, not Amelia,” I said.

“But if she can prove in court that she signed the house over to Aggie under duress,” Jo said, “then the house would revert back to her.”

“But that still doesn’t answer the question: why does she suddenly want the house back?”

“You’d have to ask her that,” Randy said.

“Not today,” Mike said, coming back into the room. “You’re not going anywhere until at least Tuesday.” Randy started to say something, but Mike stopped him. “Doctor’s orders. She’s got to have rest.”

Jo could tell that Randy was getting upset. “There’s something else we found,” she interjected before he could argue. “Cliff Scott
was getting money every month from an account in the Cayman Islands.”

“Oh great,” Mike said, “impossible to trace.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Jo replied. “I traced it back to a shell company, and traced the shell company to a larger corporation that is owned and operated by one Amelia Underwood Ashton and one Stanley Arthur Ashton IV.”

“Amelia was paying him off?” I gasped.

“One of them was,” Jo said. “We just have to figure out which one.”

“If Cliff has been paid off since the beginning, it couldn’t have been Artie,” Randy said. “He was only fourteen when his father was killed.”

“So you’re suggesting Amelia,” Mike said.

“Well, yeah, I guess so.
Artie didn’t have access to that kind of money back then, but she did.”

We all sat quietly for a couple of minutes. “Are we really saying that Amelia was responsible for her husband’s death?” I said.

“Your grandmother confirmed Amelia was with her at the time Stanley was killed,” Mike said.

“I know, I know,” I said irritably. “A nice, well-established alibi.”

“Unless she paid off your grandmother, too,” Jo said. The three of us glared at her. “What? I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Well, if that’s what you’re thinking, you can just get the hell out,” I replied.

“Sorry, sometimes I speak what’s on my mind when I shouldn’t.”

“What if Amelia didn’t sign over the house to Aggie because Amelia wanted her to keep quiet about the kids? What if she signed the house over because Aggie
knew that Stanley IV killed his father?” I said.

Mike shook his head. “I’m not buying that.”

“Call your grandfather, and ask him if there were any rumors that Stanley may have been involved with another woman,” I suggested.

“Your grandmother would know that better than he would.”

“Of course she would. And she’ll probably be sitting right there next to him when you call. He’ll ask her.”

Mike shook his finger at me. “You are a devious woman, Camille Shaw.”

“Never ask the man in charge,” I replied. “Always ask the woman behind the scenes who knows what’s going on.”

We laughed as Mike went into the kitchen to call Walt. I stretched out on the couch while we waited. “How are you feeling?” Randy said.

“Like I’m listening to Peter Gabriel’s song
Sledgehammer
with the volume on full blast. Lots of pounding and boom, boom, boom.”

Randy glanced toward the kitchen. “He should’ve done something to prevent this.”

“There wasn’t anything that could’ve been done, Randy. It happened pretty much like the dream, except for the rope being there.”

“Wait…whoa. What dream?” he said.

“It wasn’t really a dream; more like a nightmare,” I clarified. “Everything that happened today was in the nightmare.”

“Oh my gosh,” Jo said, “you had a vision.”

“Excuse me?”

“A premonition. You dreamed about it, and then it happened. You’re psychic.”

I refrained from saying “you’re nuts” to her. But on the other hand, I couldn’t say it was a total coincidence, all things considered. “I rather doubt it, Jo,” I told her. “It’s never happened before.”

“Maybe that bump on the head you got the other day
triggered it,” she suggested. “I’ve heard about things like that happening to other people.”

“Well, maybe the
concussion I got today will take it away.”

Mike came back into the room at that moment, saving me from further discussion about this. “I talked to Walt, who talked to your grandmother. It seems Aggie was upset with Stanley because he had been seen taking out his very beautiful, blonde secretary at a restaurant.”

“So he was two timing his wife?” Jo said. “What a schmuck!”

“That’s a good word for it,” Mike agreed.

“If Aggie knew, Amelia knew,” I said. “You don’t think…no, forget it. It’s crazy.” I massaged my temples, trying to will the headache that was flaring up to go away.

“What?” Mike said.

“It’s nothing. I don’t even want to mention it because it is so crazy. I think my headache is affecting my thinking.”

“Spit it out,” Randy said.

“You asked for it,” I said, “just remember that. What if Aggie and Amelia worked together to kill Stanley?” The three of them just stared at me like I had grown another head. “There are two consistent things that we have learned. One, Aggie was at the house at the time the shot was fired. Two, Amelia was with my grandmother and several other witnesses when Stanley was killed.”

Mike shook his head. “That’s crazy, Cam.”

“I believe I said it was.”

“But why would Aggie stay in a house with a ghost?” Jo said.

I shrugged. “Think about it. The house was hers. She was lady of the manor, so to speak. Stanley’s ghost has been trapped there all these years with her. It’s like they were married. Why leave when she ultimately got what she wanted, even if it’s in a sick, disgusting way?”

“That is just so wrong,” Randy said.

“But it makes sense, in a twisted kind of way,” Mike replied.

“But you can’t prove it,” Randy said, “not without Amelia’s cooperation.”

“Are you sure she was going out to the house?” Mike asked Jo.

“That’s what my cousin said.”

“Can you hold her as a material witness?” I said to Mike.

“For which case? Stanley’s murder? Cliff’s? The attempted murder of my grandfather?”

“Any of it. All of it. I don’t know. I’m not a cop!”

Mike picked up his phone. “Let me call the station and get them to go out there. Let’s see if she’s really there.”

I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes while he made the call, wishing this whole thing was already over. When I opened my eyes again, my head was on Mike’s shoulder, and Randy and Jo were gone. “Where did they go?” I said, sitting up.

“They left about two hours ago,” Mike replied.

“I didn’t even notice.”

“I’m not surprised. You’ve had a heck of a day.”

“Did you find out anything? Is Amelia at the house?”

He shook his head. “Nope, and no one knows where she’s at.”

“Wonderful. So all we’ve got is a lot of supposition and no way to prove it.”

“We’re not going to worry about any of that tonight,” Mike said. He stood up, scooped me up, and carried me down the hallway to my bedroom. “You are going to get a good night’s sleep. And if you’re really good, then maybe tomorrow, we’ll talk about the case.”

“You’re just too good to me,” I replied as he put me on the bed. “However, it’s going to be hard to go to sleep with no pillows. You took them to the living room, remember?”

He went out and brought them back. “Now you don’t have an excuse. Do you want me to tuck you in or read you a bedtime story?”

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m just fine, thank you.”

He seemed to hesitate a moment before he said, “Well, if you need anything, just call me.”

“I will.”

Walking over the door, he turned to look at me. “I’ll leave the door open, just in case.”

“That’s fine.”

“Good. Well, good night, Cam.”

“Good night, Mike.”

I watched him disappear down the hall, then got up to pull down the covers and straighten the pillows before I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Lifting my shirt, I glanced in the mirror at my back and winced at what I saw. I let the shirt fall back down, turned off the bathroom light and gasped when I saw Mike standing by my bed. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, not a thing. I came in to ask you something and you weren’t in bed. I thought I would make sure you were alright. Your bruises look worse than they did this afternoon.”

“You saw that?”

He had the decency to blush. “Sorry. Why didn’t you say anything when I carried you in here?”

“You were being so sweet
that I didn’t have the heart to tell you it hurt.”

Mike moved closer to me, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Next time, tell me.”

“I will.”

“You’re a very tough woman, you know. Most women I know would be a total basket case after going through what you’ve been through this week.”

“I’m a tomboy at heart,” I said. “I beat up boys growing up. And when I wasn’t doing that, I was playing tackle football with them.” The silence got a bit awkward as we just stared each other. “Was there something else you wanted?”

“No, just wanted to see if you were alright. I’ll check on you during the night. Doctor’s orders.”

“Of course.” He helped me into bed and started to leave. “Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for staying again tonight. I appreciate it.”

He smiled. “Anytime. That’s what friends are for, Cam.”