Audrey Claire - Libby Grace 01 - How to be a Ghost (18 page)

I didn’t have the strength to read further, but Ian paraphrased for me. He had not been mistaken, and from what I gathered from the text, at the time I felt that extreme darkness outside the mayor’s office, that was probably when Death had paid Clark a visit with a promise to return for his life.

Heartsick, I shut my eyes and wept for Clark. I felt myself sinking into deep despair. I even imagined Death had returned for me as well, ready to toss me into that pit from which I could not return. I wouldn’t fight him either, because it was the least that I deserved.

I might have given in to this line of thinking and disappeared if Ian in his way hadn’t pulled me back with his voice.

“Stop it, Liberty,” he ordered. “You will not undo the damage by offering yourself.”

I railed on him. “Does nothing bother you? How can you sit there and not care about a man’s life—a
good
man? Clark deserves better than this. He deserves to live his life, and I took that away from him.”

“I do not dispute what you are saying. I have met the chief of police once or twice. He seemed like the
good
type.”

I shook my head at Ian. “I’m assuming you judged him unworthy of making a long term meal.”

“On the contrary,” he said without repentance. “The chief is in decent condition and is strong.”

“Was,” I corrected.

“Will you give yourself up for him?”

Ian studied me with a serious expression on his face. I couldn’t determine if he still looked at me as the ultimate meal and would do what he could to restore it, or if he now saw me as a friend. Since he had not changed from the first day I met him, one never knew.

“Ian, can you call me back from the darkness?”

“Is it important for you to know?”

“Yes.”

I kept my gaze locked with his, but he didn’t attempt to avoid my question or look away. “If you have not crossed over, then yes, I can call you back.”

“And you have, haven’t you? You sense when I’m about to sink into it, even when we are apart?”

“I do.”

“Is it because you drank my blood before?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Why?”

“Liberty, do you wish to leave your son?”

I flinched at the question. “No, never.”

“Then find a way to overcome your guilt.”

He left it just like that, a blunt statement that weighed as much as a mountain.

Chapter Eleven

I stopped by the mayor’s office, recalling how she had said she used a particular electrician. I didn’t know if she had made the connection that this person might have installed the camera in her office, but I knew I hadn’t had anyone in to my home. Still, it seemed smart to ask her about the name anyway, just in case. I prepared a lie that I needed to hire someone and was looking for recommendations. I even planned to flatter her as a person I would more likely trust to guide me more so than anyone else I knew. Unfortunately, my best-laid plans were waylaid when Sharon informed me the mayor was not in the office and was not expected back for the rest of the day. I assumed she had concluded browbeating Clark into saying what she wanted him to say at his public statement.

Next, I headed over to the police station, this time to appear in person before Clark. His eyebrows rose when he saw me, but he invited me in. I avoided looking at his forehead because I thought it might set off the waterworks yet again and grabbed a seat on the visitor’s side of his desk.

“It’s good to see you, Libby,” he said, and I stiffened at the warmth in his tone. “How are you? I called you regarding the camera found in your home. I assume you’ve heard everything that’s been happening?”

I shifted in my chair, staring down at the ever-heightening pile of folders on his desk. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. You know I lost my cell phone, and I haven’t replaced it yet.”

“Of course.”

I rushed to say, “I know you’re doing all you can on the case, chief. I—”

“Clark.”

I cleared my throat. “Clark. I’m not worried about it. I mean I am but…”

“We have a suspect in custody.”

“I don’t believe Miles did it,” I blurted, and he blinked at me. I gave a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job.”

I lowered my gaze waiting for him to chastise me for doing just that, but all thought to the case left my mind when he reached a hand across the desk to lay over mine. I jerked away, glad I had a firm hold on myself not to disappear.

Clark raised both hands. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was thinking, when this is over, maybe we could have dinner together.”

My mouth fell open, and I forgot about not looking into his face. He was asking me out on a date? Days ago, even yesterday I might have—no, I might have nothing. Everything was far from over, and would not be from now on. The mark stood stark against his skin, peeking as if in defiance between two silky locks of hair.

The door opened, and Isabelle stepped into the room, relieving me from answering Clark’s invitation. I surged to my feet and offered him a smile. “I better get out of your way. I know you’re a busy man. Hello, Isabelle.”

She glanced from me to her brother and scarcely offered me a hello. I scooted out of the room before Clark could say any more and finding myself out of view of anyone else, I faded from visibility. Still catching pulling myself together, I had the misfortune of overhearing Clark and Isabelle’s conversation.

“You messed up my chance, Isabelle,” Clark complained.

“What chance? You’re not interested in
her
, are you?”

I could almost see Clark’s frown. “What if I am?”

Isabelle sighed. “You can’t be with someone like her. There are plenty of other nice women in Summit’s Edge. Forget Libby Grace.”

At Isabelle’s words, I drifted out of earshot, bristling with insult. I didn’t know why she didn’t like me, but I decided then and there I would do my best to watch over Clark for the rest of whatever life he had on this earth, even if it couldn’t be in a romantic capacity.

As I moved away from the police station, I reviewed what I knew of the case. The mayor’s alibi checked out, but Miles didn’t have one. My gut told me he wasn’t guilty, but I was new at this, so who knew if my gut was sadly mistaken. Miles was a librarian and an artist. He might not have loved George, and maybe he had been a little cruel to a man who obviously cared for him, but that didn’t mean he had committed murder.

A lot of people in Summit’s Edge moonlighted with various jobs. Look at Monica? She also worked as a librarian, and when she wasn’t doing that, she waited tables at Gatsky’s. I had Jake to think of, but if I didn’t, it was likely I’d find a second source of income. In fact, now that I thought of it, the hardware store paid less than teaching kindergarteners. I would have to find a second job. Who would have thought a ghost could work one job let alone two?

I thought of George and how he had owned the hardware store and worked home improvement on the side. All of a sudden, a new angle to the murder opened up to me, and I rushed back to the station.

Clark perked up when I bypassed the officer at the desk and burst into his office. I was glad to find Isabelle had left.

“Libby, you came back,” Clark said, sounding too pleased.

“Yes, I was thinking, Clark. I want the mystery around George’s death resolved as much as you do.”

His eyes widened. “You’re not a suspect, Libby. No matter what Sadie says.”

I frowned. “Is she still trying to pin it on me?”

He glanced away and ran a hand through is hair. “At least every other day. What have you done to make her hate you?”

“Exist.”

He chuckled. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this, and I don’t put much stock in what Sadie Barnett tells me since she insisted the mayor was present at the store that night. I already verified she was not.”

I nodded, knowing where the mayor had gone. Clark liked me, but he didn’t break the mayor’s confidence.

I took a seat across from Clark and leaned forward in it. “I’m not worried about myself—well, not entirely. I think we’ve been going about this case all wrong.”

“We?”

I could have chewed my lips off. I’d forgotten I had been following Clark everywhere, investigating with him, but he didn’t know that.

“Figure of speech. Please hear me out.”

He nodded.

“You found a camera at my place and the mayor’s that matched the ones at the hardware store, correct? And one in Miles’s apartment.”

He groaned. “Half the town has them. No, I’m exaggerating. So far, there are more than is comfortable, but they were all either with key individuals in the town or those connected with key individuals.”

“I’m no one special.” I was an ordinary woman who didn’t even have a social life for the most part, so I couldn’t imagine why anyone would target me.

Clark’s face grew red, and I figured it out. I just caught myself from blurting that he and Isabelle had discs labeled with their names in the box he found. I should not know this information. Clark as the chief of police was a person of interest, and at some point, he had let it be known, whether in public or in private, that he was attracted to me. With that knowledge, anyone could deduce it was a matter of time before I figured more prominently in his life.

Pushing thoughts of Clark and I aside, I forged ahead. “Do you think George was behind all the cameras?”

Clark considered it. “I can’t rule it out as a possibility. He might even have had the skill although I can’t be sure. I had always thought he focused more on building decks or relaying floors. If he repaired or installed walls, it’s not a stretch to think he knew something of rewiring and electronics.”

“The mayor mentioned when I visited her that she had hired a contractor to come in to redo some wiring.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. If George did it…”

“If George had done the rewiring, it’s not likely she would say she ‘hired a contractor.’ She would admit her husband did the work.” Clark snatched up his phone and dialed. After a few minutes, he slammed the phone down. “Sharon wasn’t at her desk, and the mayor isn’t answering. I think the break-in affected her more than she’d like to let on.”

I felt bad for the mayor once again and wondered if she had gone to see her doctor. Clark tapped strong fingers on the top of a file, his gaze faraway. Then he focused on me. “Let’s say George is not behind the cameras. Someone hires him to do a little fix-up at their house. He breaks out a wall and discovers what? A camera? He wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that they’re guilty.”

I pursed my lips. That’s exactly what he had done with Miles. Clark seemed to read my thoughts.

“I don’t believe Miles Lucas is guilty.”

“Then why did you arrest him?”

“Libby, focus.”

I sighed. “I was thinking the same thing. George worked in the killer’s house and came across the discs, and maybe some recorder equipment.”

A sharp sense of panic overwhelmed me. I almost lost my concentration. I had just mentioned the discs, but no one outside of Clark, Miles, and the officer with him in Miles’s apartment knew of their existence. I knew because I had been there when Clark discovered the discs. He had kept them a secret. If the town had panicked over finding cameras in their homes, they would riot over discs with their names on them.

To my great relief, Clark was too deep in thought to have heard me. Still, I sat in tense silence, waiting for the hammer to fall and searching my mind for a plausible explanation as to why I knew information I shouldn’t.

“I’m going to the hardware store to check the books and log every person who has ever requested his services.” Clark stood and looked at me. “I hear you will be working there soon.”

“I…”

“Would you like to come with me? Seeing as you have more of a right to be there now than anyone.”

He might be right, but I didn’t know how long we would be there, and holding my form with one person to energize me might be too difficult. I glanced up at him to turn down the invitation and spotted the mark. Refusal of the offer faded away, and I found myself agreeing to go. For good or bad, I had assigned myself to assist Clark and to watch over him. I had to do it no matter how hard.

“Sure. I’d be glad to help.”

* * * *

Clark might have a lot of papers and folders in his office, but from what I had seen, they were organized. Watching him work, I had found the man was thorough, and he knew where to find whatever he needed. George Walsh and organization did not go together. The “books” turned out to be piles upon piles of receipts stuffed wherever they fit. If George had been contracted officially by anyone, Clark and I did not know it with a glance. We waded through the mess a little at a time, and when my concentration faded, I carried a pile of papers to one of the aisles in an excuse to spread out more instead of remaining in the confines of George’s makeshift office.

To my relief, Clark didn’t question my plan. I spread the papers as much as possible on the floor and went invisible to scan them that way. When I needed to shift any of the sheets, I used a solid fingertip only.

“Libby?”

I started and whipped to another aisle, materialized, and walked back to where Clark stood. “Oh, sorry. I was getting a crick in my neck and stretched a bit.”

Clark waved a sheet of yellow lined paper in his hand, which appeared to have been torn from a notepad. I cringed. The very moment I started in the store, I would attack the files.

“I found something,” he said.

Excitement bubbled inside me. “What is it?”

“Luis Riley.”

I wrinkled my nose. “The newspaper reporter?”

Clark affirmed. He strode over to me and let me scan the sheet. Not even a receipt, the sheet listed off a few supplies for Luis. Of course there was only one Luis in town, but how did that mean Luis was their man? I asked Clark, and he explained.

“Up until now, we were coming across all the people I’ve already interviewed and cleared, but this wasn’t with the rest of the receipts. George and Luis had a bartering agreement.”