A Guilty Ghost Surprised (An Indigo Eady Paranormal Cozy Mystery series) (12 page)

“Because it muddies the water?” I said.

“Or,” said Simon, “because the information contained in his employee file is all lies, and they’re just covering their arses. He was a bad driver with three on-the-job accidents already under his belt.”

“And that could have opened them up to a slew of wrongful death lawsuits,” I added.

“Right, and they can’t afford that added to their already tarnished reputation,” added Badger.

“So what do we do?” asked Cappy.

“If there’s been a cover-up, I doubt we could uncover it. The police know how to correct the damage and avoid forensic detection,” said Riley. “Unless someone talks.”

All eyes turned to me.

“What?” I said. I certainly hadn’t held back any information at this point.

“Robbie seems to like you a lot,” Riley observed. “He’d do it for you, if you asked him nicely.”

Badger frowned.

So did I.

“Do what?” Alarmed, I wasn’t quite sure what she suggested.  

“Ask him to snoop fer us, o’ course,” said Cappy. “Subtle inquiries into Michael Potter’s work ‘abits, encouraging gossip about ‘im, that sorta thing. There must ‘ave been gossip at the time. Coworkers will ‘ave wondered why all the interest in ‘is car.”

I shook my head. “I can’t ask Robbie without telling him we’re investigating. Surely we don’t want him to know.”

Nobody had an answer to the dilemma.

“Let’s keep it in mind, shall we?” said Riley. “If our investigation turns in that direction, then we’ll pursue it.”

I sighed inwardly and sent up a muttered
thank you
heavenward. I didn’t want to ask D.S. Robbie O’Boyle to spy for us. It would certainly be my last resort. Besides, I don’t think he’d do it anyway. Not unless convinced of his fellow officer’s guilt, or a reasonable doubt existed.

Hannah, our nosy spirit serving girl, poked her head through the door and looked under the table. Once sure the ghost-dog wasn’t there, she floated through and set invisible mugs of ale on the table. She drifted around to read the murder board, playing with Simon’s hair as she did so.

Simon swatted her hand away, as if shooing a stray fly or other annoying insect.

“Is there any news from forensics on the paint samples?” Riley asked Simon.

“Nah. It’s a slow process. They’re shorthanded with all the budget cuts, too.” He swatted away Hannah’s hand again.

“But we do have something else to report,” I said, looking at Cappy. “We were followed on Tuesday night when we left here.” I filled him in on what happened. Leaving out that extra bit of information, of course.  

“We’re making someone nervous, then,” said Cappy. “Who could it be?”

Riley checked our list of suspects on the murder map. “Skip Shepard, the breakdown driver, or Scott Durdle, the drunk guy in the blue van.” She looked at me pointedly. “Do you think it could have been Robbie O’Boyle? Maybe he’s suspicious about what we’re doing, like last time.”

I shook my head. “No. It wouldn’t be Robbie. He wouldn’t have been hanging around with those hoodlums.”

“That’s true,” said Simon.

“I think we all need to be aware of our surroundings,” I said. “The situation could have been dangerous, but it wasn’t. Whoever they were, they went out of their way to get away from us.”

Badger looked skeptical. “All right. But let’s be careful. Don’t travel alone, especially Riley and Indigo.”

“Anything else to report?” asked Riley. “We’re running out of options here. At least until we get the forensics report back.”

“Well,” I said. “There is something I need help with.”

Simon shook his head.

“What?” said Badger.

“The dog. Remember the bulldog?”

He nodded.

“I want to cross him over - he followed us home one night. And you know, what with Cleo there, and the house already in chaos between Bryan and Franny, it’s not a good thing.”

“What’s happening with Bryan and Franny?” Riley asked.

“They’re fighting over the telly and Bryan’s watching scary stuff and getting scared and keeping us up all night,” said Simon. “Not to mention jumping into my bed with cold feet.”

“I thought you two looked tired,” said Badger.

“Completely knackered,” said Simon.

I nodded.

“I’m in,” said Badger.

“Not me,” said Cappy, wide-eyed. “I don’t want to meet no ghosts, thank you very much.”

“I’ve already been there,” said Simon. “Doors slamming open, weird lights flying about the place, the ghost dog barking and running around. I’m out.”

I smiled at Badger. “So? Have you changed your mind yet?”

He laughed. “No, I’ll do it. But you owe me one.”

“No problem. Thanks.”

Chapter Twelve

Good Timing

Since spirits became more active at night, Badger and I headed over to Mrs. Cuttle’s on Saturday night. We entered the same way Simon and I had a few nights before, except this time, we remembered flashlights. I meant
torches.

By torchlight, we discovered the full extent of the dilapidation. A shame, really, as its former beauty was apparent.  

“Wow, look at this place,” said Badger, shining his torch around the living room. It must have been grand at one time. Looks like somebody turned it over, though.” He stopped next to the rocking chair and flashed his light on the pile of newspapers. “Took all the good stuff and left the junk. Hey, look at this.” He picked up the top newspaper and blew the dust off.

Tingling ran up my spine. Badger and I exchanged looks. I took the paper from him and shined my flashlight on it. Simon and his family made front page.
Our family.
And the entire article featured the accident details.

“And look here,” added Badger.

He shined his torch on the pile of newspapers. All were dated the week of the accident. And every one of them about the accident that killed Aunt Amanda and Bryan; speculation about who did it, asking witnesses to come forward, pleading for any information, in addition to how well-respected the family was, and what they contributed to the community.

“This is…interesting,” I finally got out. “I wonder what it means? Why would she keep these?” I went through the pile. They were only about the Eadys, nothing else. Mrs. Cuttle’s sole interest seemed to be the accident. Why else didn’t she have other newspapers, only the ones about the accident?

Badger took the newspapers and folded them in half, stuffing them into his rucksack. “Maybe she wrote something on them. We’ll study them later.”

I nodded in the torchlight glow, totally freaked out. “All right. Let’s find the dog. Up here.”

I led the way up the staircase, Badger following. Where was the dog? I shined my light around. The last time, he’d been right behind us. I didn’t want to experience that heart-hammering incident again. Turning left, we slowly made our way down the hall. I stopped in front of the same door where all the activity took place when Simon and I were there before.

With my heart pounding, I pushed lightly on the door, afraid that it would slam open again. It didn’t. And the green light didn’t race around the room. A woman stood at the window, looking out. She floated above the floor and emitted a green glow. Hearing the door creak, she turned to us.

“Mrs. Cuttle?” I asked.

She nodded, wide-eyed. “What do you want?”

She didn’t ask who I was and I could swear she recognized me. Probably from walking by and staring up at the window so often.

“Why can you see me?” she asked. “Nobody else can see me.”

I shrugged. “It’s what I do. An ability I have.”

Badger stood in the doorway and watched my apparently one-sided conversation.

Mrs. Cuttle began to pace. Or rather, she floated back and forth a foot above the floor.

“Why are you still here?” I asked her. “You…” I hesitated. Sometimes spirits didn’t respond well when told they were dead. But she couldn’t cross over to heaven unless she knew, so I asked. “Do you know you’re dead?”

She turned to me. “Of course I know it. I’m dead, not daft, child.”

 “So why are you still here,” I repeated. I wanted to get the information quickly before she did a disappearing act.

She continued pacing. “I’m stuck. I don’t know why.”

Mrs. Cuttle broke eye contact, eyes focused on the floor. Her whole body shuddered and the corner of her lips twitched. No doubt about it. She knew exactly why she couldn’t cross over.“I can help, if you’ll tell me. What’s the last thing you remember?”

She began to pace more quickly, becoming agitated.

I stumbled a couple of steps back. Badger pulled me against his chest. The green light that became Sadie Cuttle in an agitated state made herself known, even to Badger.

“What’s happening?” he said. “What’s going on?”

The bulldog appeared in the doorway. He cocked his head to the side as he watched Sadie. His head moved back and forth, eyes trained on her.  

“Mrs. Cuttle is becoming agitated,” I whispered, following her with my eyes.

A low rumble came from the ghost-dog’s throat and his lips began to twitch. His nose crinkled, revealing sharp, white teeth. A dark shadow-like figure emerged through a corner in the wall. 

The dog’s growl grew deeper, louder. He placed himself in front of me, chest puffed out, presenting a defensive stance. He continued to rumble.

Badger’s grip squeezed my arms tighter.

“The Shadow - the Soul Collector,” he whispered.

“Y-yes. I c-can s-see that,” I said, shivering. At least with S.C. here, I knew he couldn’t be anywhere near Bryan.

A whirling wind roared through the room like a tornado. It grew colder. Puffs of condensation issued from our mouths. Continuing to snarl, with his nostrils flaring, ghost-dog looked like a smoke-breathing dragon. The door clicked shut behind us and dead-bolted, the echo picked up by the wind and added to the chaos. Stink followed, like a room full of rotting corpses. 

Badger turned and yanked on the doorknob to no avail. “What do we do?” he yelled above the cacophony.

Mrs. Cuttle swirled faster and faster, caught up in the windstorm. The dog barked ferociously, the room grew colder and colder. The odor permeated everything and the shadow filled the room, second by second.

“Light! We need light!” I yelled.

The swirling swept up a loud wind and the ghost dog kept up a continuous barking cacophony. A keening moan added to the chaos.

My numbed fingers lost their grip on the flashlight and it clattered to the floor, rolling across the slightly slanted floor towards Sadie. “No!” I scrambled after it on hands and knees, my hair and clothing whipping up around me. The mad clicking of Badger’s torch followed me across the room.

“My torch, it won’t turn on!”

Reaching for my flashlight, I snatched it and retreated back to Badger near the door. “He’s drained it of energy,” I yelled above the noise. I crouched down, clicking my flashlight. After a brief flicker, it came on. I shined it into the corner, and after a tortured screech, the Soul Collector retreated.

Badger turned the deadbolt and yanked the door open. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall.

At the top of the stairs, dizziness assaulted me. “Wait. Wait.” I lifted my right hand to my forehead, the left clinging to the banister.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” A crease appeared between his brows.

“I’m dizzy.” My stomach churned. “And sick.” And something else…

 “Come on. Lean on me.” He pulled my arm around his neck and slipped his arm around my waist. I leaned into his shoulder and let him help me down the stairs and through the house. Cold air hit me in the face as we stepped through the back door. I gulped the fresh air like a fish gasping for water.

“Sit here while I lock the door.” Badger fumbled with the key. Two tries later, the deadbolt jammed home.

I sat on the bottom step with my head in my hands. Badger came back and knelt beside me. “Are you all right?” He brushed stray strands of hair away from my face.

I looked up and smiled weakly. “Better.”

“What happened?”

“The banister. I got dizzy after touching it and then I had a vision of someone falling down the stairs and landing crumpled and broken at the bottom.”

“Mrs. Cuttle?”

“I think so.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “I was so scared,” I wailed, flinging my arms around his neck.

He held me gently, stroking my hair, whispering, “
Shhhh, shhhh
,” against my ear. “You’re all right now.”

Taking a shaky breath, I pulled away, knuckling the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry.” I sniffed.

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Don’t be. I was scared, too.” He smiled.

“Really?” I looked up at him shyly. I made a fool of myself in front of him so many times. I wondered if he only said that to make me feel better. In any case, he was being kind.

“Really.” He brushed a quick kiss against my lips. Our eyes met through the dim light, close enough that I could see the amber specks in his brown eyes. I took another shaky breath. He brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek. He gazed into my eyes, then to my lips, and back up. He leaned in slowly, eyes open and brushed my lips again. I leaned into his chest, returning the pressure of his lips. “Indigo.” I pointedly ignored the voice at the back of my mind telling me
this is a bad idea
. No better than Simon and Riley.

“Shhh,” I whispered, before kissing him again. “Just kiss me.” And he did, long and thoroughly. I don’t know how long we stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms kissing, but I didn’t want it to end.

A nearby whine broke us apart.

The bulldog sat at our feet, panting and smiling.

I sighed.
Good timing, dude
.

Chapter Thirteen

Hannah’s Suspicions

Noisy chatter filled the Blind Badger. Sounds of partying reached through the back door as soon as we opened it. Thankfully, people who imbibe find it difficult to make their way down the dark, wobbly passage and so didn’t even think about going into the snug. It was empty.