Who Killed the Ghost in the Library: A Ghost writer Mystery (27 page)

Chapter 45

Thirty minutes later, Randy, Jo and I were setting up shop in the living room. They moved the kitchen table to the far side of the living room near the TV. Jo pulled up a chair, got out her laptop, and started checking property records.

Randy led me to the couch. “Mike asked me to make sure you got some rest,” he said, “so sit. Have
n’t you had enough excitement for the day?”

I snorted. “I’ve had enough excitement this week to last a lifetime.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Let’s see, Artie bum rushed Prufrock, smacked him around, tied him up, snatched Amelia, and set an explosive device on her car. It blew up just as Mike and I drove down the street. The end.”

“Artie? Are you guys sure it was Artie?”

“Would Mike have Jo search
ing property records in his name if we weren’t? Prufrock said that Amelia seemed to know who the man was, although I don’t see how. He said the man was wearing a mask. It must have been something he said or did that told her.”

“Geez Louise,” he said, shaking his head.

My phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Mike.”

“Did you find them?”

“No. Danny talked to a couple of the guys from the garage, and one of them went down to check out the vehicles he knew were there. All are accounted for.”

“What about the tow trucks?”

“They’re there, too.”

“What about Artie’s personal car?”

“Believe it or not, that’s accounted for, too. It’s at his house, but he wasn’t there. The place was a mess. I found timers and explosive materials in the basement of his house.”

“So he’s the one that blew up your patrol car and Amelia’s car.”

“Looks like it. Listen, has Jo had any luck?”

“Hold on, I’ll check. Jo, have you found anything yet?” She nodded and held up a notepad. Randy went over, got it and brought it back to me. “Let’s see, besides the house and the garage, it looks like he’s got a place in north Dallas County, but it’s another garage.”

“So he could have gotten a car from there,” Mike groused.

“It’s possible.”

“Any place else?”

“Yes, there’s a small house on the outskirts of town, between the Ashton and Underwood estates.”

“Talk about sticking close to the family.”

“No kidding.”

“Let me have the address.”

I read it off to him. “Has anyone checked the Ashton place yet?”

“I’m on my way out there now.”

“By yourself?”

“I’ve got Danny checking hotels in four counties, and the rest of my men are checking all over town.”

“I really wish you weren’t going out there alone.”

“It’s my job, Cam.”

“I know. Just be careful.”

“Tell you what, if you don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, call Danny.” He gave me the number. “Send him out there.”

“If you go one minute over, I’m calling him.”

“Deal. I’ll talk to you in half an hour.” He hung up.

“You don’t look happy,” Randy said.

“I’m not, but there isn’t much I can do about it. Jo, can you check for credit cards under both of Artie’s names?”

“You know, I could go to jail for all this hacking I’m doing.”

“Why? It’s my house, my internet connection. They’ll have to prove it was
you, which they can’t. And they’ll have to prove there was someone else in my house doing it. Good luck with that.”

She still didn’t look convinced, but she got to work anyway.
Now, anyone who knows me knows I am not a patient person. After fifteen minutes of her tapping away on her keyboard, I got up and started pacing the floor. Randy watched me, concern etched on his face. “You alright?”

“I’m fine
.”

“Really? Are you trying to wear out the floor or something?”

“No, why?”

“Because you’re acting all jumpy and nervous.”

“Sorry.” I stopped in the middle of the floor. “Anyone want something to drink?”

“I could use some ice water,” Jo said.

“Randy?”

“Some ice tea would be fine.”

“Great. I’ll take care of it.” I went into the kitchen, took two glasses out of the cabinet, filled them with ice, and poured the drinks. I took the glasses and handed them out.

“You’re managing quite well with that cast on,” Randy said, taking a drink of his tea.

“Huh? Oh,” I replied, looking down at the cast, “I guess so. Find anything yet, Jo?”

“I didn’t find anything under Artie’s name. I’m checking his other name right now.”

“Great.” I went back into the kitchen and poured myself a Dr Pepper.

Randy came in after me. “What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t know. Just a bad feeling I’ve got,” I told him. “It’s probably nothing.”

“He does this for a living, you know. He knows how to handle himself.”

“I’m worried about what Artie’s going to do. Taking Amelia seems a bit extreme.”

“Everything he’s done has been escalating, Cam. Leaving you to die in the bottom of that well isn’t the sign of a sane person. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I agree, but it just feels…there’s just something about this that feels off. I just don’t know what it is.”

“Artie rented a car under his real name at a place in DeSoto. A black truck with tinted windows.”

“Is Amelia still registered at the Hotel Indigo, Jo?”

She checked. “No, she checked out this morning.”

“Before she went to see Prufrock,” I said. I looked at the time. “He’s five minutes late calling me.” I quickly dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“No answer,” I said. I hurried down the hall to my bedroom. Opening the closet door, I pulled out my gun safe and got out the Sig Sauer. Then I went into the bathroom and took out the spare car key from my jewelry box. I returned to the living room, grabbed my bag and handed the notepad to Randy. “Call this number. Tell Danny there’s an officer in trouble at the Ashton estate. No lights or sirens when they come. Tell him to haul his you-know-what out there.”

“Where are you going?”

“To stop a couple of murders,” I said as I walked out the door.

I don’t think I’ve ever driven as fast as I did going out to the Ashton estate. Mike’s patrol car was sitting in the driveway. On the right side of the house was the truck that had chased me through the fields. So it was Artie who tried to kill me yesterday.

I put my cell phone in my pocket
after I turned the ringer off, tucked my gun into the small of my back and pulled my shirt down over it. Saying a small prayer as I got out of the car that I wouldn’t have to use it, I cautiously moved toward the front door.

The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open slowly. “Stanley? It’s Cam Shaw. I wanted to ask you some questions for the book we’re working on. Is it okay if I come in?” There was no answer, so I moved further into the foyer and over to the right, on the opposite side of the library.

I couldn’t hear a sound, and I started to wonder if anyone was in the house when I was suddenly yanked sideways and a hand went over my mouth. “Don’t yell,” Mike whispered in my ear and removed his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t call, and when I tried to call you, all I got was your voicemail.”

“I thought I told you to call Danny.”

“Randy is calling him. I told him to say there was an officer in trouble,
and not to use lights or sirens,” I said. “Which room is this?”

“
It’s the downstairs bathroom. And I’m impressed with the no lights and sirens thing.”

“Thanks. Where are they?”

“Either in the library or upstairs. I’m not sure. The bookcase in the library was open, but I don’t know if that was from yesterday or if someone did it today.”

I heard the click of a gun. “You can come out now. I know you’re in there, thanks to
Miss Shaw calling out.”

Mike stepped in front of me and walked out. I followed him out. “Stanley Arthur Ashton IV, I presume. Or do you prefer Artie Shatton?” I said.

“Artie, if you don’t mind. Your gun, Chief Penhall.”

Mike hesitated for a moment before handing over his Colt. “Where’s your mother?”

“In the library. If you would be so kind and join us,” he said, stepping aside and pointing in that direction.

We walked ahead of him, and I hoped he couldn’t see the gun under my oversized shirt. Amelia was sitting on the couch, a bruise on her cheek, but otherwise okay. “Mrs. Ashton, good to see you again,” I said. “I hope you’re well.”

“As well as can be expected under the circumstances, Miss Shaw. What happened to your arm?”

I glanced over at Artie, who was standing at the end of the couch near his mother. “
Your son felt I needed some exercise yesterday, so he chased me through the fields, then left me for dead at the bottom of a well.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am. That truck that’s parked outside is the one he was driving when he did it.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“Ma’am, you don’t forget what the vehicle looks like that tried to kill you.”

“You’re a resilient woman,
Miss Shaw,” Artie said. “I’m very impressed that you survived that fall after I cut the rope.”

“I was near the bottom when you did it. I didn’t appreciate the rock you sent down after you cut the rope.”

“Just trying to make sure you were dead. Did it hit you?”

“It did.”

“Very impressive, indeed.” He gestured toward the chairs. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

We both declined the drinks as we sat down.
“Alright, Artie,” Mike said, “this is your show. What are we doing here?”

“I know why my mother and I are here. You two are here because you stuck your noses in where they didn’t belong.”

“Your father asked for my help,” I said.

“My father,” he scoffed, “the great dead man.”

“Show some respect to your father,” Amelia snapped.

“The same way you did?” Artie retorted.

“That’s enough, son,” Stanley said as he walked into the room.

Artie stared
at his father. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he finally said.

“And you’ve grown up,” Stanley replied. “Is this what you grew up to be? A thug?”

“Well, considering I was labeled a murderer after your death, how did you expect me to turn out?”

Stanley looked confused. “Who labeled you a murderer?”

Artie pointed at Amelia. “Your wife and your mistress, that’s who. Oh, and your wife’s boyfriend, the cop.”

“What are you talking about, Stanley?”

“Don’t call me that!” Artie said angrily. “My name is Artie Shatton now. I left Stanley Ashton IV behind a long time ago.”

Stanley held his hands up. “Very well, son, Artie it is,” he said, walked toward his desk and sitting down in his chair. Now w
hy don’t you tell me everything.”

“That’s how I remember you, you know. Always sitting behind that desk, doing your paperwork. You never had time for us, unless you needed us to make an appearance at some benefit or dinner. The happy, happy family. Made me sick.”

“I had no idea. I’m truly sorry.”

“You’re about sixty years too late, Father.”

“Artie,” I said, “what happened the night your father died?”

“I was in my room, doing my homework. Cecilia was asleep in her room. I heard him come home and call out for all of us, but I ignored him. There was a big English test the next
day, and I really wanted to do well. So I stayed in my room.”

“Sounds like you were a good student,” I said.

“I was,” he said. “Straight A’s. But that was the Ashton way, wasn’t it, Father? We always have to do our best, set a good example.”

Stanley didn’t say anything. “Did you hear anything that night?”

“I heard him arguing with Aggie. She was upset because someone had pulled out all her tomato plants in her garden. She told Father that I had done it. ‘That brat son of yours did it again,’ I heard her say. He reminded her that I was her son, too.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She laughed. She said she may have given birth to me and Cecilia, but that Amelia was our mother more than she was.”

“That must have hurt you terribly,” I said. I looked at Amelia, and I could see tears sliding down her
cheeks. At that moment, she looked so old and sad, I felt sorry for her.

“It did, but she was right,” he said, looking at Amelia. “Up until that night, I always felt loved and wanted by her.”

“And then what?”

“I went into my parents’ bedroom and down into the secret passage. I stood on the other side of the bookcase, but I didn’t open it. Aggie wanted him to divorce Mother, and Father said he wasn’t going to have this same old argument with her again. He reminded her that they would never be together because a divorce would be scandalous, and it would hurt the family business. But it’s what he told her after that…”