Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (18 page)

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 of 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.

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.

I pulled up in front and shut off the
engine. Carolyn’s car was nowhere in sight. Maybe no one was home,
nevertheless, I’d check anyway. After all…I was already there.
Leaves ruffled, the only noise cutting through the still air. I
sprinted up onto the wooden porch. It creaked under my feet. Fall
décor of pumpkins and bright-colored mums edged the entrance.
Cornstalks leaned on the sides of the doorway and a sign peeked up
displaying the words:
Happy Fall Y’all
. An overstuffed
scarecrow leaned against the side.

I rapped on the door and tapped my foot as I
waited for an answer. After a few seconds, I knocked again.
Shifting my feet, I touched the pumpkin, then looked around for any
signs of movement. Still no answer. I listened to the rustle of the
tall oaks. It was possible that she had gone to town.

When no one answered, I moved over to the
window, cupped my hands over my eyes, and pressed my face close to
the glass. The house was silent and no one moved about. On my last
visit, Carolyn’s home had been meticulously clean—nothing out of
place, but this time, papers were scattered about the floor. A few
dishes were knocked off from the table. A strange vibe washed over
me as I surveyed the scene. Something seemed off, but I couldn’t
figure out what that
something
was.

Without knocking again, I decided to head
back into civilization. While I picked up a few things, I’d see if
I spotted Carolyn in the area. I turned around on the porch, then
paused before stepping off. A few birds chirped and the trees still
rustled, but other than that, I was surrounded by silence. A wooded
area sat to my right with a walking path cut down the middle. The
idea Carolyn might be hiking through her property crossed my mind,
so I decided to walk a bit and look for her.

I bounced down the steps, brushed past the
azalea bushes, and hiked about twenty feet to a line of trees where
the path started. I stepped onto the trail. The path appeared to
stretch on indefinitely, cutting through the dark trees like. Only
a few beams of sunlight trickled through the branches, making the
area eerily dark. The trees hovered above, their dark branches
reaching out to grab me.

Careful of where I stepped, I glanced down
every few seconds. I continued deeper into the wooded area, and
with my next stride, a fallen branch crackled as I stepped across
it. My heart beat a little faster, the realization that I could
easy step on a snake made me rethink walking any further. I knew I
shouldn’t go too far because I had no idea where the path led. If I
got lost out here, I doubted the police would send a huge search
party for me. When I turned around to head back, leaves crunched
from behind and I knew the noise hadn’t come from me because it had
continued when I stopped.

A trickle of terror sprouted in my stomach.
The fear of being murdered and buried out there where no one would
ever find me caused me to panic. I ran and the crackle of dried
foliage and twigs breaking continued in my wake. I looked down, as
much as I could, and watched each step.

When I attempted to glance over my shoulder,
I stumbled and fell to the ground, landing face first into the
leaves. At least they cushioned my fall. Now fear consumed me and I
panted for air. Why had I come down the path alone? A thorn snagged
my sweater and I struggled to break free. I hurried to my feet,
then, a voice rang out nearby. What was said, I couldn’t make out.
The sound was only a mumble. The oaks and pines draping over me no
longer felt protective, but now they seemed to scrutinize my every
move from high above.

I scampered toward the entrance of the path
as fast as I could. When I reached the end, the footfalls stopped.
Breaking free into the sunlight, I leaned over, placed my hands on
my knees, and tried to catch my breath. I looked around and no
movement caught my eye. As if a light bulb went off, a realization
hit me, maybe the noise had been Carolyn coming back from a hike.
Sure, that had to be it. My panting slowed as I stood for a couple
of minutes and waited, looking down the long path. She never
materialized and I now had the heebie-jeebies. I took a deep
breath, then dashed over to my car.

Leaning against the hood, I scanned the area
one last time, then hurried over and jumped in. Instead of enjoying
the scenery this time, I punched the gas and sped down the winding
ribbon of dirt lane. Once on the paved road again, I pointed the
Volvo in the direction of town and punched the accelerator. The
more I thought about the farmhouse sink Reed suggested, the more I
thought it would look good and sounded like a good idea. And not
because Reed said so, either. I needed something to get my mind off
all my worries and searching for something for the house seemed
like my best bet. Picking one out would keep my mind off
everything. Of course, I made another stop first.

My car sputtered as I came to a halt in
front of Sweet Suzie’s
—
my first stop. Maybe Suzie had seen
or heard from Carolyn? Two large topiaries framed the entrance and
a Halloween wreath with ghosts and pumpkins hung from the door. The
air was tinged with the smell of pies and other baked goodies from
the shop across the street, which made me yearn for a cup of hot
apple cider to go along with a calorie-laden treat. The wind
carried the delicious scent for at least a block.

When I walked in, I halfway expected to see
Carolyn—ring-covered fingers clutching a trinket and chatting away,
but she wasn’t there. Amongst the display of fall goodies, Suzie
sat, unpacking a box of Christmas ornaments. Homemade Halloween
signs, faux pumpkins and gourds and one happy looking scarecrow
surrounded her.

“Have you seen Carolyn?” I asked.

She glanced up, her reading glasses tipped
down on her nose. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t. She hasn’t been
in since the other day. But I do think I saw her in town this
morning.” She held up a snowman covered in glitter. “Isn’t this
pretty? Gotta get the Christmas merchandise out early for the
shoppers.”

I nodded, preoccupied by my worry and skated
over her questions about the holiday decor. “I went by her farm,
but there was no sign of her.” I didn’t mention the lack of
housekeeping. Maybe Carolyn was a bit sloppy sometimes. “I tried to
call but she didn’t answer.”

Suzie reached beside her and grabbed a
truffle from a golden box. After popping it in her mouth, she held
out the container and offered me one. I couldn’t resist, so I
selected one and popped it in my mouth. “I’m sure she’ll be around
soon.”

She didn’t seem worried. Maybe I was
overreacting.

“Ron Spencer and Payne Cooper had a fight
the day of Payne’s murder.” She nibbled on another piece of
chocolate. Her voice was calm as if reading a grocery list.
“Apparently, Payne didn’t want him as a business partner anymore. I
guess he made enough money that he felt he didn’t need Ron.”

“You amaze me with your gossiping
abilities.”

She smiled. “I amaze myself sometimes.”

I laughed.

“So, he definitely had a motive for murder?
Perhaps I should confront Ron, too, like I did Julia,” I said.

Okay, so maybe what I did with Julia wasn’t
a confrontation, but still…I went to her house. Being alone with
Ron Spencer was probably not wise, though. I sighed. At the rate I
was going, I’d never find the killer. I hadn’t even ruled anyone
out as a suspect.

“I knew that’s why you took that job,” she
said.

I smiled sheepishly. “What can you tell me
about Nick Patterson?”

“Not much really.” She paused. “I do know
where he lives though.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” I
chuckled.

“He lives in an apartment on the edge of
town. I could go with you later today if you wanted to do some
probing.” She pulled out another ornament.

It half-way sounded as if she wanted to
snoop.

“Don’t tell my husband though,” she said, “I
wouldn’t want him to know I went to spy on a potential
murderer.”

“I may take you up on that. Where did you
say he lives?” I fumbled in my purse for a pen and paper to write
down the info.

“Go down Main Street to Oak and hang a
right. A half mile down on the right is an old apartment building.
There are only five units in there, so it’s pretty small. You can’t
miss it. I’m not sure which one is his, but like I said, it’s tiny
and I’m sure you wouldn’t have any trouble finding him. Oh…” She
popped another truffle and chewed. “And you may want to check the
Java Joint for Carolyn.”