The Ghost Files (11 page)

My eyes stray back to Eric Cameron, aka Mirror Boy. It might or might not be him. The face is the same shape and the eyes the same color, but aside from that, I just can’t tell. His face was pretty mangled last I’d seen it and that’s how I’d drawn him.

He’s actually really cute, or he was. His black hair is slightly curly at the bottom and those blue eyes of his are actually quite striking. They are full of laughter too. Quite a difference from the ghost I’d met, but then again, being tortured and murdered might put a damper on anyone’s personality. I’d be angry too. I gave myself a mental shake. Mirror Boy was the enemy and a ghost. No need to get all doe eyed over a ghost.

“At least you know I’m not as crazy as you suspected,” I say lightly while reading through his notes. All had been taken in the open. There one minute, gone the next. None of them knew each other. Mary went missing the night before Sally did. So does that mean Sally saw something she shouldn’t have? If that’s true, then she’d have to have seen it at the house and we’d already ruled out Mr. Olson. So that left me…nowhere.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” he grins at me. “You are one weird chick, Mattie Louise Hathaway.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Officer Dan.” His map has my attention now. It looks like all the kidnappings had taken place in three counties: Rowan, Mecklenburg, and Iredell. It’s a fairly small area. Why had no one picked up on this? I ask Dan just that.

“Well, Mattie, until you told me they each had bullet through the head, nothing connected them. They were all random disappearances spread out over several years. There was no reason to think they were related. If I had to guess, I’d say Mecklenburg is the center of the activity.”

“Why?”

“Two disappearances in less than forty-eight hours.”

“Mary and Sally. That’s bugging me,” I frown.

“Me too,” Dan admits. “It leads me to think that Sally saw something she shouldn’t have, but how would she have seen that if she didn’t leave the house?”

“Which implies the Olsons.”

“We cleared them though.”

“Are you sure?”

Dan rolls his eyes.  “I know how to do my job.”

“Do you, now?” I smile wickedly. “Weren’t you the ones who didn’t even search Sally’s room? The ones who didn’t look to see if she took anything before writing her off as a runaway?”

“You’re not going to let me forget that are you?”

“Not a chance, Officer Dan.”

“Well, I
did
do my job here,” he insists. “I personally went to the factory where your foster father works and looked at his punch card. I spoke to people who remembered him being there on shift. He wasn’t home when Sally disappeared.”

“And I don’t buy Mrs. Olson would have done anything to her either,” I tell him. “She cares about us. It’s hard to find someone who does and she wouldn’t hurt Sally.”

“Then where does that leave us?”

“Neighbors maybe?” I ask.

“That’s one angle we can look at,” he nods. “Can you get me a list? I’ll run them and see if anyone has a record and pops up in the system.”

“Tell me about Mary.”

“I talked to her mom. She had just come home from a long shift and went to bed. When she woke up, Mary was gone. Her bike too, so she thought she was out for a morning ride at first. Two hours later she got worried, started calling friends, and then went out looking for her along the bike trails Mary liked to ride. She called the police around nightfall. We haven’t been able to find anything to give us a hint as to her whereabouts.”

“It’s wet and cold,” I tell him softly.  “There’s standing water somewhere near her.”

“How do you know that?”

“I could smell it.”

“You really think she might be alive?”

“I don’t know,” I say and walk over to sit on the bed, suddenly tired. “I usually only see ghosts, but I don’t think Mary’s dead. Dying maybe, but not dead.”

“I think you are the bravest person I’ve ever met, Mattie.”

My head snaps up. He’s staring at me in all seriousness. There isn’t a hint of laughter in those warm brown eyes of his. Dear Lord, he
believes
me. He really, truly believes me. The truth is there in his eyes.

“Of course I am,” I say flippantly.

He shakes his head. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I know,” I tell him. “You make me nervous when you get serious.” Why did I tell him that? He so did not need to know he makes me nervous.

“I make you nervous?” he laughs. “I didn’t think
anyone
could make the great Mattie Hathaway nervous.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head,” I grouch.

“DAN!”

“YEAH DAD?” he yells back.

“MIKE’S ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!”

“TELL HIM I’LL CALL HIM BACK!”

I can’t help but to smile at the yelling. We don’t do that at the Olsons. Mrs. O hates loud noise. She doesn’t even like the TV on above a whisper. Dan would give her a stroke yelling like that.

“Hang on a sec, let me call Mike and see what he wants.” Dan fishes his phone from his pocket. “Why he doesn’t call my cell I don’t know.”

I don’t pay much attention to Dan as he starts to talk. Mirror Boy’s picture has caught my attention again. His face calls to me.
He
is the key to this. In that moment, I understand this to be perfectly true. But I don’t know how I know, but I do. I can feel it. The truth of it rings in me like some kind of gong or bell. How, though? Why is he so important to this? Aside from causing all sorts of nastiness?

“Squirt, Mike needs me to pick him up for practice today. Mind if I drop you off a little early?”

“No, that’s fine,” I tell him, still staring at Mirror Boy. I needed to do research of my own. I have to find out why
he
is important.

“Do you see something I don’t?” Dan asks, brows lifted.

My shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know. Let me think about it. Are you ready to go?”

“You want to leave now? We haven’t done anything yet.”

“Sure do, besides, I need you to help me with something.”

“Help with what?”

“Are you any good at breaking and entering?”

Chapter Thirteen

“This is so NOT a good idea, Mattie Louise Hathaway!” Dan glares at me again. God, he’s been harping at me since I told him where we were going. I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. The lock is simple and I can get it if he’ll just shut up for two seconds.

“You didn’t have to come,” I snarl.

“Did you expect me to just let you go by yourself?” he all but shouts and I wince.

“Keep your voice down.” I sigh and keep a weak hold on my temper. “Look, Officer Dan, I have a juvie record already. If I get caught, no big deal. They’ll write it off as emotional distress due to Sally gone missing. My shrink will testify. If
you
get caught, you’re a cop. You’ll get into a lot of trouble, so…” I spluttered, “you can leave or wait in the car. But SHUT up.”

“I’m not gonna wait in the car while you break into somebody’s house!”

“Then shut up or we’ll both get caught!” That did it. Blessed silence. Thank God. I seriously am not taking him along on any more B&E adventures. He’s a pansy. Well, he
is
a cop, so he does have to at least protest, but he does it with such vigor. I swear I can strangle him here and now and die happy. I might feel bad about it later mind you, but not right now.

I hear the lock click and grin. “Haven’t lost my touch after all.” I pocket my handmade jimmy and stand. Dan glowers at me. No high five? Oh, well. I roll my eyes again, softly open the door, hurry Dan inside before closing the door behind us. “Kitchen. Ugh.” It’s so dated; the lime green walls do nothing for the orange-flowered cloth on the breakfast table. The room smells slightly and that’s when I see the flies circling the garbage can. No one has been in to do any kind of cleaning yet. Great.

“Have you ever been in here before?” I ask Dan.

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know! Your mom seems to have known her. I thought maybe she’d dragged you over here or something.”

“Well, I haven’t.”

“Are you always this grumpy?”

“Only when I’m forced into criminal acts by high-strung teenage girls.”

“You are such a pansy.”

“What?  I am NOT a pansy just because I’m worried about getting caught and going to jail!”

I shake my head and leave the kitchen. Now I’m in the living room.  The furniture here hasn’t been updated since the early seventies. The walls are paneled in a deep brown and the brown carpet has definitely seen better days. There is an old brown leather couch and two chairs in the same leather flanking a coffee table. The old floor model TV is off, but I bet if I turn it on, it’ll be on the game show channel. Old people, I’ve discovered, are notorious for watching their shows. You don’t stand between them and Wheel of Fortune if you know what’s good for you. So says this Voice of Experience.

There is a small door on the right wall; next to the door is a montage of pictures. I open the door and find a bathroom. The walls are pink. Seriously. Pink. The woman needed an interior designer in the worst way. Gag. I shut the door on the pink horror and look around the living room again. There’s a small door on the opposite wall. It blended in so well with the paneling, I hadn’t seen it when I first came in. There’s a deadbolt and it’s locked. Strange. I unlock it and open the door. There were steps going down. Bingo. “The basement.” I tried the light switch and a fuzzy yellow light blared to life at the bottom of the steps.

I glance at Dan.  “Are you coming?”

He nods and I start down the steps. It reeks down here of mildew. I’d bet money the old woman has mold growing down here. It is certainly damp enough. The first thing I see is the washer and dryer. A laundry basket full of towels sits on top of the dryer, ready to be put away. For just a second, I feel bad for the old bat. She hadn’t asked to die. She’d planned on coming home and putting away her towels and then probably feeding Oliver.

Speaking of which… “Oliver?”

“Oliver?” Dan whispers.  “Who’s Oliver?”

“Oh, so now you whisper when no can hear us,” I glare at him.

“Mattie…”

“Jeeze, it’s her cat.”

“Her cat?”

“Yeah, I saw her at the diner and she was harping at me to let Oliver out of the basement.”

“Wait, you saw Mrs. Roberts? When? She’s been dead for days… oh.”

I chuckle at his strangled voice. “She was at the diner yesterday yelling at me to let Oliver out before he starves. I ignored her, but then remembered when your mom was talking about her at breakfast. I figure what will it hurt me to let her stupid cat out? No reason he has to starve just because she died.”

“So we are breaking into a dead woman’s house so you can help her cat?”

“Pretty much.”

“Where did you learn to pick locks?”

I shoot him a wicked grin. “Haven’t read my rap sheet yet, huh?”

“Mattie, you’re sixteen. What kind of rap sheet can you have?”

“Look it up and then talk to me. Now, where is that danged cat? Here, kitty, kitty.”

“You really are an odd girl, Mattie,” Dan tells me. “You try so hard to come off as a hard-ass, but you are the biggest softie I have ever met.”

“Take that back,” I tell him, appalled. “I am not a softie.”

“Then why are we here looking for a cat?”

“So the old bat will leave me alone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Will you just shut up and look for the cat?” I turn away so he can’t see my cheeks flaming. Most people never, ever see past the walls I put up, but this guy can and it makes me uncomfortable. Jake sees past it a little, but not nearly as much as Dan does. I’m not sure what that means either.

Dan and I explore the entire basement and come up with nada. If that old bat sent me on a wild goose chase, I am so gonna give her a piece of my mind.

“Mattie, are you sure it’s a cat?” Dan asks very quietly.

“What else can it be?”

“Big snake?”

“WHAT?” I turn around to see Dan slowly backing up away from the furnace. He is inching backwards at a snail’s pace. I hate snakes with a passion. When I was eight, I got bit by a black snake and was so sick I thought I was dying. They’ve freaked me out ever since. When Dan finally reaches me, I peek over his shoulder and my eyes widen. OH MY GOD. Uncoiling itself from the furnace is a boa constrictor. Those things are huge, they can get like twenty feet long or something and can swallow you whole. “Holy crap.” Um, this one’s pretty big. I can see its body start to take shape and it has to be at least three feet wide and ten feet long. At least.

“Mattie, you need to back up towards the stairs,” Dan whispers. “I think it’s hungry.”

“Duh, it hasn’t been fed in days,” I whisper back. My feet won’t move, though. Snakes really,
really
freak me out and this one is pretty much the biggest one I’ve seen.

“Move, Mattie.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I’m scared out of my mind?”

“Right.” He curses softly, grabs my hand and takes off at a run, dragging me behind him. I turn mid yank and try to keep up. My feet work if I’m not looking directly at the mammoth snake. The stairs loom up and I even manage to get up them. Dan slams the door and turns the lock.

Now
I understand why there is a deadbolt. We both lean against the door, slightly out of breath.

“Animal control,” Dan tells me. “We are calling animal control right now.”

“Uh, no we are not.” Does he want to get caught? “Are you forgetting that we broke in here? How are you going to explain that one, Officer Dan? Wait until we get out of here, then stop and make an anonymous call at a pay phone.”

He stares at me.  “You do this a lot do you?”

I shrug. “I used to.”

He frowns.

Whew. That look means I’d better explain. “When I was still in Jersey, I hooked up with some kids who taught me some skills. It was either that or starve. The place I was staying decided that we only needed to be fed every couple days. I got stuff for them and I got fed. I know it wasn’t right, that it was stealing, but when you’re eleven and hungry…”