Murder Can Haunt Your Handiwork Read online

  “Of course not,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  He said that, but did he really believe me? The tone of his voice didn’t sound completely confident.

  I scanned the area to see if there was any way I could lose her. “Can you believe they think I might have done something like that?”

  “Well, you don’t seem like a murderer to me,” he said.

  Whew. Maybe he believed me, after all.

  “Thank you, Mr. Vanderbilt,” I said with a smile. “It’s encouraging to get a compliment reassuring me that I don’t seem like a murderer.”

  What had I gotten myself into? Most times, I’d be happy with compliments telling me that my hair looked nice or that the person liked my dress. Not that I didn’t appear as if I had strangled someone.

  The woman following me was wasting precious time. It would take even longer for me to reach my destination, because I’d have to spend my time getting rid of her. One important thing, though: I had to remember, no speeding this time. I couldn’t afford another ticket. Actually, I couldn’t afford the one I’d gotten, much less another.

  The traffic light up ahead remained green. It had been that way for quite some time, I thought. Maybe if it turned yellow, I could scoot through, and then it would turn red and catch her. With any luck, if that happened, I would lose her. At least, that was the way it played out in my mind. Reality might have a different plan for me.

  I drove closer to the light. “Come on, turn yellow.”

  A couple of seconds later, the signal did just as I asked.

  “Oh, I’m excited. Here’s my chance,” I said.

  I slowed down to make sure that the woman wouldn’t have a chance to drive through the yellow light, as well. I hoped she didn’t try to run a red light. That could be extremely dangerous. Surely, she wasn’t that crazy. This was risky business. After making my way through the yellow light, I saw that she had to stop.

  “Yes, it worked,” I said with excitement.

  “Good work,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “Your driving skills are quite impressive.”

  I sped up in order to get away before she caught up. However, I couldn’t speed too much, because I had that fear of receiving another ticket looming over me. Every few seconds, I glanced in the mirror. So far, there was no sign of the black car. Would that silver SUV pop up next?

  “I think I lost her,” I said.

  “You certainly outsmarted her,” he said.

  “More like I just got lucky, but I’ll take it.”

  At least I was able to relax a smidgen. I remained on edge, though, because I had no idea when she’d return. Even without the car following me, I had a nervous stomach about finding Deidre. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel with anxious energy.

  “You’re making me nervous,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Nervous habit, I suppose.”

  “No reason to be nervous. She’s not behind you.”

  “I’m worried about finding Deidre. Plus, the woman in the black car might show up again. Not to mention that other silver vehicle I saw earlier. Reporters were actually hiding in the bushes.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t worry about the things you can’t control. We’ll change the subject. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  “What would you like to know?” I asked.

  “Are you from around these parts? I fell in love with this area, although I’m not originally from here.”

  “Yes, I know, I read about you, remember? Oh, you remembered something about yourself,” I said excitedly.

  “Yes, I suppose I did,” he said around a chuckle.

  “I’m not from here, either, but I live close by. I just came for the craft fair. I’m an artist,” I said with a smile. “What else would you like to know about me?”

  “How did you come about this talent of painting spirits?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Maybe I should try to figure that out someday, but I don’t know. I suppose there are questions that we can never answer.”

  “It’s certainly a strange talent,” he said. “I would want to know if I were you.”

  He didn’t know the half of my strange talents. The worst part was the mystery images that I painted. They spooked me way more than the actual spirits. Soon, we pulled up to the street address that I’d found for Deidre Ashley. I turned left onto Adams Street.

  “Are you sure this is the location?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “I’m not positive, but it’s definitely a start. I have to do something to find her,” I said.

  I counted down the house numbers. The white one on the left had the numbers written on the mailbox by the curb. Just as I was approaching the home, a car was backing out of the driveway. I eased off the gas.

  “Maybe that’s her,” I said.

  “Well, you should follow her,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  “I’ll give it a try,” I said.

  My adrenaline was really pumping. Again, I was in my pink truck, which was kind of like a neon sign traveling down the road. If I wanted to search for a murderer, maybe I needed to get a car that wasn’t so obvious. Nevertheless, it was all I had at this time. Besides, I loved my truck. And I definitely wouldn’t get rid of it.

  “Can you tell who’s behind the wheel?” he asked.

  “No, maybe I can if I get closer.” I pushed the gas pedal. “Luckily, the driver doesn’t know who I am, so she won’t think that I’m following her.”

  “If this person thinks you’re following them, you could be putting yourself in great danger,” Mr. Vanderbilt warned.

  “I won’t let it get that far out of hand,” I said.

  I pushed on the gas again so that I could catch up to the little black car.

  “Why is her vehicle so small and yours so big?” he asked.

  “It’s called a smart car,” I said.

  “What is smart about it?” he asked. “Is yours dumb?” I laughed. “Good question. I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s tiny. I think it might be fuel-efficient.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  The driver took the next left and drove down a street that led out onto the main road. So far, I’d been successful with keeping up with her. I just hoped that it stayed that way. With more traffic, it might be more difficult to keep up. Wherever she was headed, I hoped that I got a chance to speak with her. Though I wasn’t sure what I would say.

  She turned on her signal, indicating that she would be making a right turn soon. At least she gave me advance notice. Maybe that meant she didn’t realize I was actually following her. She turned into the parking lot of a large brick building. The parking lot was almost empty, and I wasn’t sure that I should follow her there. I eased up on the gas and merged over onto the side of the road so that I could watch her movements.

  There was no indication of what might be inside. Was the building not in use? Based on the length of the structure, I thought perhaps it had been a school.

  “What do we do?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “We’ll watch and see what she does,” I said.

  CHAPTER 8

  Travel Trailer Tip 8:

  Remind yourself to observe your

  surroundings. Traveling is all about seeing.

  You’ll see stuff you never noticed before.

  The woman parked the car and after a few seconds got out, tossing her big black purse over her shoulder. With her slim figure and long legs, she gracefully headed toward the side door. The breeze blew waves of auburn-colored hair from her shoulders.

  When she reached the door, it opened, and a stocky, bald-headed man let her inside. She stepped through the entrance, but he stayed there for a couple of seconds. Something nagged at the back of my mind. What was it?

  He scanned the area as if checking to see if anyone was watching or following her. I ducked down in my seat just in case he happened to glance my way. Was he suspicious that someone was spying on him? He seemed paranoid. He wasn’t do
ing a very good job of guarding, though, since he didn’t realize I was watching. Good thing he didn’t see the ghost, because Mr. Vanderbilt didn’t duck down. The man stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

  Seconds later, the realization hit me. I recognized the man. He was the one I’d seen at the diner with my family. The one who had taken the parking space. He’d been rude at the diner, and he seemed mean this time, too. Apparently, he was consistent. Thank heavens he hadn’t seen me. Would he recognize me, though? Probably not. He was probably rude to so many people that he lost track.

  “I really want to know what’s going on inside that building,” I said.

  “I don’t see how that’s possible,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “Again, why are you seeking this woman?”

  “She had an argument with the woman who was murdered, and maybe she’s the killer.”

  “You certainly don’t want to go in there and confront her if she’s a killer,” he said.

  “No, I certainly don’t want that,” I said as I opened the truck door.

  “Where are you going?” Mr. Vanderbilt called out.

  With Van in my arms, I walked around the front of the truck as Mr. Vanderbilt slipped out.

  He met me at the right fender. “I thought you said you weren’t going in there. Plus, you have the dog with you.”

  I shook my head. “No, I didn’t say that I wasn’t going in. I just said that I didn’t want to go in, but this isn’t a matter of wanting to go in, it’s a matter of having to go in.”

  “I disagree with that,” he said. “You don’t have to go in there. Just let the police figure this out.”

  “That would be the wise thing to do, wouldn’t it,” I said.

  “Absolutely. We’ll go back to the mansion.” He gestured toward the truck.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Vanderbilt, I have to go find out what they’re doing. That doesn’t mean I’ll go in. I’ll just take a little peek in one of the windows.”

  “You’d better hope that they don’t catch you,” he said.

  “Oh, believe me, I hope they don’t catch me.” I held Van in my arms, and I certainly didn’t want to put him in danger.

  Mr. Vanderbilt followed me as I walked toward the building. The last thing I needed was for the man and woman to see me lurking around the property. The building had quite a few windows, and I couldn’t see inside until I got closer. At that point, it might be too late. Of course, they didn’t know who I was, right? If they caught me, I would just pretend like I was lost. They wouldn’t kill me for that; at least, I hoped not.

  Once I neared the building, I had to decide which window to peek in first. I supposed the one closest to the side door would be the best option. However, there were many to pick from. Windows lined the entire back of the building, and I suspected my early thought that it had once been an elementary school was correct. I spotted a couple of old swings and a jungle gym in the distance, nearly concealed by weeds and tall grass. Sun beat against the glass, and I worried that there might be too much glare for me to see in. I’d have to try, though, because in my opinion, this seemed extremely important.

  Never mind that it might be hard to maneuver up to the windows because of all the overgrown landscaping. The bushes were acting as an obstacle course.

  “Make sure not to fall and hurt yourself,” Mr. Vanderbilt warned.

  “I’ll give it my best shot,” I said.

  I stepped closer to the building until I was right up next to the window. As I leaned forward, my face was almost touching the glass.

  “What do you see?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “So far, nothing,” I said. “Oh, wait, here they come.”

  I ducked down so that they couldn’t see me. My pulse raced at the thought of being caught.

  “How will you know what they’re doing if you don’t check in the window?” he asked.

  “I just want to make sure they don’t see me.” I inched back up to the window.

  “What do you see?” Mr. Vanderbilt had moved to my side.

  “The man and woman are standing in the room. They’re talking. By some fortunate twist of fate, they haven’t noticed me yet.”

  “You still can’t find out what they are talking about,” he said.

  Mr. Vanderbilt was right about that. What would I do? The longer I watched them, the more chance I had of being discovered.

  “Wait a minute.” I turned to Mr. Vanderbilt. “They can’t see you. Why am I sneaking around when you can just go in and watch them?”

  He studied my face. “I can do that, sure, but we both know that you won’t be satisfied. You’ll want to see this for yourself.”

  After a pause, I said, “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

  Turning back to the window, I peered across the room and noticed that the window on the other side was slightly ajar. Perhaps I could go over to the other side and hear what they were saying. It was at least worth a shot.

  With anxiety in my stomach, I slipped down from the window and headed around the building.

  “Where are you going?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “I’m going to the other side to that window. It’s open a little, and I hope I can hear what they’re saying.”

  “Oh, just don’t get caught,” he said as he trailed along behind me. “You certainly like to live dangerously.”

  I didn’t like living dangerously, but I felt this was necessary. Actually, I was quite scared. My panting and quickened pulse increased with each step.

  Van was being good as I held him in my arms. Soon, he would become restless and want to get down to play, or he would be ready for food. With any luck the man and woman inside wouldn’t stay too long. I hoped they didn’t come out the side door as I was walking around. Of course, I would go with my plan and tell them that I was lost. Or better yet, I could pretend that I’d been searching for my dog. That would be perfect. Whew. At least I had a believable reason for traipsing around this building.

  With great relief, I made it to the other side of the building without being detected. I hurried over to the window. On the count of three, I would make my move. I wasn’t sure why I needed to count to three. I suppose to give myself time to mentally prepare. Or it was just more stalling.

  I eased over and saw that the couple hadn’t spotted me. They stood in the same location. There was no need for me to stare at them, though, so I took my position by the window and just listened.

  “You said you would get me the item,” the man said in a rough voice. “This is what we planned.”

  “I told you I would, and I will,” the woman said.

  “I’ve given you plenty of chances, Deidre. I’m not going to wait much longer.”

  The man was threatening her. What did he want from her? At least I knew that I was following the correct person.

  “I just need a couple more days,” she said.

  A long silence filled the room, and I wondered what he would do next. I peeked in to see in the window. They were still in the same position, as if in a standoff. I hunkered down again before one of them caught me.

  “Two more days.”

  “He held up two fingers,” Mr. Vanderbilt recounted as he peered in the window.

  “You’ll meet me back here?” the man asked. “I assume at the same time and no longer than two days?”

  “I promise I’ll be here in two days,” she said.

  Two days? What was she trying to get in the next two days? Did this have anything to do with her friend’s murder?

  “I have to go,” Deidre said.

  There was no response from the man.

  “Let go of me,” she yelled.

  CHAPTER 9

  Travel Trailer Tip 9:

  Don’t block the windows in case you need to

  see out . . . or in.

  Jumping into action, I peeked through the window. Did I need to go in there and rescue her? What would I do to help? That man appeared awfully strong. Not to mention mean.

 
“This is extremely unsettling,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.

  “Yes, it is,” I said.

  Deidre yanked her arm from the man and rushed toward the side door. As luck would have it, he didn’t go after her. I wasn’t sure what I would have done to save her. Deidre was no bigger than me. We’d be like two mice trying to fight a bear.

  “Aren’t you going to follow her?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  “I don’t think I will. It might be better to find out who that man is. She said it would be a couple days until she got the item, so I assume she isn’t getting it now. It might be better to follow him.”

  “That sounds even more dangerous,” he said. “You confuse me, Celeste Cabot.”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Vanderbilt. I confuse myself, too,” I said.

  The man turned and headed in the opposite direction. I would have to actually enter the building. If Mr. Vanderbilt thought what I was currently doing was dangerous, then he really wouldn’t like my next move.

  “I have to catch up with him,” I said.

  “Oh no, don’t do that,” Mr. Vanderbilt said as he ran behind me.

  “I have to,” I said over my shoulder.

  With all the other windows on the outside of the building, perhaps I could peek in one of those before actually trying to get in. The more I thought about that, the more anxiety settled in my stomach. What was I thinking? I couldn’t just walk into the building. I would have to make up some kind of excuse and get in. Was there a main door to enter, or maybe a bell to ring for someone’s attention? What was this place, anyway?

  Shoving my way through the shrubbery, I hurried down to the next window. This one gave a view into a different room. The man stood by a desk, studying a sheet of paper in his hands. He had no idea I watched him. I tried to steady my breathing so that I wouldn’t pass out from nervousness. Detectives didn’t pass out on the job.

  “What will you do, Celeste?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.

  That was a question I didn’t have an answer for just yet. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t have time to think of an answer. The man turned around, and our eyes met. My stomach dropped instantly, and panic spiked through my body. Even my toes tingled.