01 Flip That Haunted House - Haunted Renovation Page 15

  “I don’t think anyone really wants to hurt you. Just scare you, that’s all.”

  “Well, it’s working.” I frowned.

  “Plus, we don’t have the manpower to watch you twenty-four hours a day. Sorry.” He wheeled around and strolled out the door, not even saying goodbye.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” She patted my arm.

  That was easy for her to say, no one wanted her six feet under.

  “I’ll call someone to fix your windshield.”

  She picked up the phone and I sat in the chair next to the counter, resting my head in my hands.

  ***

  That night, I needed a long, hot bath. I poured my favorite scented bubble bath under the streaming water, and then lit candles all around. The scent filled the room and I slipped into the water, took a deep breath, and exhaled. As I soaked in the tub, letting the suds soothe my aching muscles, my mind churned over all of the facts…the brick through my window. Of course, anyone would have access to a brick. But, it was new, without mortar, like the ones found at a construction site. It was the same style brick popping up on so many houses around town, not at all unlike the ones surrounding the houses on Maple Hill Road. Come to think of it, Reed’s house had those bricks, as well.

  Payne’s partner, Ron Spencer, certainly had access. Could he have driven by and thrown the brick after being released from jail? It was definitely possible. Of course, there was also Nick Patterson, the custodian. After all, he had slipped around the building and had been watching me. I saw him with my own eyes. Why else would he stalk me unless he wanted to kill me? And last, but definitely not least, Julia Cooper. Was she a killer? Or, just cold and heartless? Obviously, she was bitter over her husband’s infidelity. Was she involved with Nick Patterson? No question about it, though, whoever did it had been brave to vandalize during the day without the cover of darkness. Brave or crazy.

  After toweling off, I slipped on my sweatpants and a t-shirt. A chill settled in the room, so I flipped the switch on the fireplace and watched the flames dance to life. I plopped down in my overstuffed chair in front of the crackling flames. With paper in hand, I scribbled down all the clues swimming around in my head regarding Payne Cooper’s murder. I felt I could tolerate the ghost for now, but my top priority was to find the killer. My life may depend on it. Unless the ghost started throwing bricks and chasing me with cars, he would have to wait.

  Doubts about Sheriff Bass’ competency stayed in my mind. He lacked professionalism and morals. I needed to know who owned the blue sedan and he wouldn’t help me find them, that much was evident. Someone in town had to know the owner. I made a note to ask Suzie about the car—not sure why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. Better late than never, I guess.

  The next morning when I arrived at my flipper house, the roof was full of activity. The workers tossed the old shingles to the ground and I ducked as I hurried inside. I didn’t recognize the men, nor did I see Reed. I’d made it halfway through the house into the parlor when a strange energy surrounded me. What it was I had no idea, but an eerie presence shrouded the space. My eyes followed movement in the corner of the room. I tilted my head for a better view, then froze. A shadowy figure approached, gliding in my direction and I let out a gasp. The shape was clear—a man. No doubt about it. He appeared cloudy, but it was definitely a man. His features were not completely distinguishable, but he had a shape. The wall was visible through him, as if he was a static-filled black and white station not quite in focus.

  A glowing aura surrounded him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My hair stood up on the back of my neck as I watched. He lifted his arm, then pointed toward the front of the house. What did he want? I stared at the form in silence. My mouth opened, but I remained speechless. My body frozen, I didn’t dare move an inch. Without notice, the form disappeared and I was alone once again. Tremors marched up and down my spine. I’d seen a full-bodied apparition. Sam and the gang would be jealous when they found out.

  Silence enveloped the room, the only noise the thump of my excited heart. I panted, trying to catch my breath, still not believing what I saw. As I stood there, transfixed, the sound of movement on the roof snapped me from my spell. I’d almost forgotten any living souls were around. Reed and his crew were unaware of the supernatural events taking place inside. Not that Reed would believe it anyway. I took a few calming breaths and walked out onto the veranda.

  I sat on the step and listened to the sounds of hammering echo down from the roof. Dust churned from the flying debris and I stared at the dirty porch, allowing my mind to wrap around the ghostly scene I’d witnessed. Reed and his crew worked, but what about me? It was as if I was stuck, unable to move ahead and make any real progress. The death of Payne and the ghosts in the house had left a cloud over my head, obstructing me from moving forward on my flipper project. I had to succeed…at least once in my life. Unless I snapped out of this mess, it would never happen.

  With a new determination, I jumped up, brushed off my pants, and marched to the Volvo. It was time for me to get down to business. I had my list of suspects, and notes on all of them. No more excuses. I needed to do my darnedest to find out who the killer was. If I went to Payne Cooper’s office, maybe somehow I could find a clue as to who killed him. The police had already searched, but the way the investigation was going under Sheriff Bass’ supervision, I wasn’t entirely convinced about their abilities to solve any crime—much less this one. Rosewood lacked in the civil services department, in my opinion.

  I zoomed down the road, looking longingly at The Home Depot—the paint samples and light fixture sections made my heart go pity-pat—as I passed. As I drove through town, an idea popped in my head. I fumbled for my phone and dialed Carolyn’s number with one hand while steering with the other. Perhaps she could provide more insight into the spirit or spirits inside the house, since it seemed now he was attempting contact. I’d try Lacey too and get her take on it. Even with her injury, I definitely didn’t want to leave her out. Carolyn’s line rang several times, but no answer. Maybe she was raking leaves or had gone to town. She mentioned getting up with the chickens every morning; she’d probably gotten an early start. With a farm like hers, I didn’t blame her. All right, I wouldn’t roll out of bed that early, but I could see why she would. I’d try her again later.

  During the drive to Payne’s office, I hardly noticed the sun peer out from behind the clouds, selective rays peeking through. My cell rang. I turned down the radio and picked up.

  “You need to call me.”

  “What are you talking about, Mama?”

  “I’m talkin’ about me worrying myself sick about you. Obviously, there’s a killer out there somewhere. Maybe they’ll think you’re helping the police and come after you.”

  “If they know Rosewood Police Department, they’ll know they aren’t asking for my help.” I snorted.

  “Your daddy and I talked about it and think you should come home for a while. Just until they find the killer, of course.”

  No way. I’d almost prefer the killer find me.

  “I can’t do that, Mama. I have the house to fix up. I’m fine, I promise.” Except for people following me and a car trying to run over me. I’d omit those minor details from the conversation.

  “Well, your daddy and I will have to come live with you then.”

  No, no, no, no.

  “That’s not necessary.” I had to think of a plausible reason they couldn’t come. And fast. “The police are watching me.” Not a complete lie. They probably were watching me, just not for the reason I implied.

  “Oh, well, all right. But…that isn’t enough.”

  “Not enough? Mama, they have guns.”

  “Well, so does Daddy.”

  “Listen, I have to run, Mama. I’m going into a meeting.”

  “What kind of meeting?”

  “I’ll call you.” I hung up before she could say another word. Disaster averted. For now.

  I glanced down at my watch.
It was a quarter to nine when I pulled into the parking lot. I wanted to get there early, before tons of people started their workday.

  As I walked away from my car, I glanced back and cringed at the dents and scratches—battle wounds some would call them. A tall gray-haired man in a wrinkled suit brushed by and nodded. I smiled back. Did I look suspicious to him? I turned around and caught him watching me over his shoulder. People were so nosy. Move along, sir, nothing to see here. I stuffed my cell phone in my pocket and looked around one last time. I didn’t see a another soul, and the man drove off, so I continued my trek. If I didn’t want to be caught snooping around, I’d have to hurry. A shiver prickled the hair on the back of my neck when I thought back to my discovery of Payne. It felt strange to be back there in the daylight—after that night.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sprinting to the building, I felt like a spy on a mission. I glanced around one last time to see if anyone noticed me. Quite a few cars were already in the lot—it would be hard to go unnoticed for long. No one was in the corridor, when I peeped through the glass, so I entered. I couldn’t believe I was back there again. What was I thinking? The same gray walls and creepy silence greeted me. A lump formed in my throat as I looked around. My shredded wheat breakfast churned in my stomach. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for this type of stress. At any minute, someone could easily enter or exit their office. Maybe the murderer worked here and would pounce on the opportunity to kill me off as well.

  I held my head up high so it appeared as if I knew where I was going. I climbed the stairs two at a time, trying not to lose my footing. Heaven forbid anyone recognized me. How would I explain entering Payne’s office? Suspicious was written all over my face. As if I held a sign that read I discovered the dead guy.

  I had no idea how I would break-in. Pick the lock maybe?—a little trick my daddy taught me. To rule out the obvious, I grasped the doorknob and twisted. To my surprise, the door was unlocked yet again. I hadn’t expected it to be, and honestly, I had no plan for if it had been locked. Was there another dead body in there? The police had probably locked the door after their investigation, so why was it unlocked now? Although, Payne did have the elusive partner I’d never seen. Maybe Ron Spencer was inside.

  A foul order hit me as I stepped inside—I couldn’t quite place it, a mix between antiseptic and other cleaning solvents. The sun shone through the blinds, lighting up the room. A contrast to how I saw it last. At least someone had cleaned up the papers from the floor. It seemed as if there’d been a struggle, yet Payne’s body had been found in the chair. Almost as if he’d been placed there. Odd.

  I looked over at Payne’s desk and shivered. The chair was missing. A flash of his limp body dashed through my mind—still crystal clear in my thoughts, as if I’d just seen it. His head slouched over to one side and bloody. I forced myself to think of something else. Anything. Shopping, a good book, baking a cake. My eyes and ears were on full alert as I surveyed the room. Being in the office of the murdered man I had discovered would not look good—any excuses I’d give would be wasted. If I weren’t at the top of the suspect list now, I would be. After all, I’d always heard the killer usually returns to the scene of the crime.

  I inched across the room. Silence filled the space, except for my heavy breathing. If someone discovered me snooping around, I’d run for my life. My cell phone rested in my pocket with nine-one-one at the ready. I prayed I wouldn’t need to place yet another distress call.

  A clue wouldn’t magically pop out and grab me, so I moved forward—no idea what I was searching for. What kind of clue would lead me to a killer? I doubted I’d find a name or number. Did the killer even leave a clue? The police would have collected any evidence. Although…it was Sheriff Bass I was dealing with.

  What the heck had possessed me to come in the first place? Rummaging through file cabinets seemed a tad bit crazy, now that I thought of it. Pulse thumping, I moved to the desk. Invoices, receipts…nothing of interest. Wait. A piece of paper was jammed at the back of the inside of the drawer, almost falling through to the unseen confines of the desk. I stretched my hand into the drawer and inched my index finger and thumb until I finally had a grip on the paper. I yanked so I wouldn’t lose it. In a flash, I had it. The paper was folded a single time. I opened it, anxious to see what treasure I’d found. Blank. Hells bells. I tossed it back and let out a deep breath.

  A credenza sat against the wall to my right, I walked over to it, hoping I’d discover the smoking gun. Dust tickled my nose when I opened the large drawer and I held my sneeze. Flicking through file after file, I found only customer information—nothing I needed. He certainly had sold a lot of homes. I stood for a moment, hands placed on my hips, and studied the rest of the room. Satisfied that I’d looked everywhere, I tiptoed toward the exit. As I reached the door, the muffled sound of footsteps grew louder—my cue to hightail it out of there. After all my sneaking though, I decided I couldn’t leave empty handed. I glanced around one last time, trying to find something to make off with—my time was running out. I’d risked being caught for this mission, and I couldn’t let myself down.

  On top of the filing cabinet, I spotted a random pad of paper, grabbed it, stuffed it in my pocket, and dashed for the exit. Like a cat burglar, I wore knit gloves. Ones my aunt gave me for Christmas. Each finger was a different color of the rainbow. I probably should have worn something less conspicuous. It had turned colder, so I hoped no one would look at me strangely in my winter attire. Hey, I’ve watched Murder She Wrote—I didn’t want my fingerprints in that office any more than they already were. They had dusted for prints already, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I eased out the door and closed it behind me. As I made my way down the corridor, I stopped in my tracks. My stomach flip-flopped. Sheriff Bass marched up the stairs toward me. Fiddle sticks. There was no time to hide. A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. My trepidation grew. Every nerve in my body tingled and time seemed to slow down. I darted from one side of the corridor to the other. I slowed my pace when he spotted me, then froze.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice boomed off the walls.

  “I had an appointment,” I stammered and pointed to the office door beside us.

  His gaze left mine and moved to the company entrance. I glanced over and my heart sank. I gulped. His stare moved back to me—I felt it. I couldn’t force myself to look away from the door. In big letters it read: Reproductive Tissue Services. A sperm bank! Of all the darn doors to point to, I picked a freakin’ reproduction stockpile. I sucked in a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, trying to act naturally. Would he arrest me on the spot? I wore gloves, for heaven’s sake. He had to know what I’d been up to. Were steel bars in my future? What would Mama and Daddy say?

  He raised a haughty brow and gave a skeptical glare. “Why you’re so interested in this case, Ms. Hargrove?”

  Um. Because you added me to your list of persons of interest, numb-nut.

  “Murder is a serious crime.” His hand clinched by his side.

  No kidding.

  He continued. “You keep messin’ around and I’m not sure what may happen to you. If the killer feels threatened, he or she won’t hesitate to kill again. You do think there’s a killer out there, right?” He paused as if I’d answer. “Just remember that.” His lips pressed together in a thin line.

  His snide comment froze my feet to the floor—I wanted to move but couldn’t. Was it a warning or a threat?

  “I don’t suppose you know who murdered him yet?” I asked.

  My mouth was no longer controlled by my brain. Did I want to spend life in prison? Why did I ask him that?

  “You let the officials handle the investigation.” He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and popped one in his mouth. I was furious—I did nothing wrong. And furthermore, he disgusted me.

  “There’s no smoking in here,” I said.

  Again, my brain stopped working. He seemed like the type o
f cop who was itching for a reason to arrest someone. And, I was giving him cause.

  “Mind your own business, Alabama,” he scoffed

  Why did I feel the need to push his buttons? Anyone who gave him lip would be sitting in the back of his car headed for jail faster than they could say Barney Fife. Finally, my legs moved. I turned and stomped down the stairs, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible. As I walked to my car, I felt his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. I slid in the seat and shoved the key in the ignition, thankful for the safety of my old jalopy. A flash of that awful night streamed through my head. As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t help but look over to the spot where I’d seen the shadowy figure run from the building. A chill ran up my spine just thinking about it.

  Before starting the car, I reached in my pocket and pulled out the pad of paper. Patience wasn’t one of my qualities. I studied my find. Call M. was written on the top page. The rest of the pad was blank, I realized, as I flipped through the pages. Great clue—what a wasted trip. As I shifted the car in reverse, I sensed someone watching me and I peered up at the building. Sheriff Bass watched me from the second story window. He glared for a few seconds, then dropped his cigarette butt. He didn’t even bother to extinguish it as he turned and walked away.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Unsure of my next move, I spun by Carolyn’s place. Still on a high from my sleuthing attempt that almost went terribly wrong, I needed to talk to someone and she wasn’t answering her phone. No one bothered to answer my calls, not Lacey, or my mother. Where the heck were they when I needed them? Any other time my mother would answer my call faster than she spent money at a yard sale. I wanted to thank Carolyn again for dinner, too. In spite of being blindsided by Reed’s presence, I had a nice time.

  My car puttered down the long gravel driveway. A cloud of dust twirled behind in my wake. The scenery was magnificent with splashes of green, yellow, maroon, and the occasional burst of orange. Leaves cascaded to the ground in front of the car danced across my windshield. To my left and right, pine trees lined the path.