The Loveliest Dead (33 page)

“I didn’t know your mom believed in this crap,” he said as he skimmed the article.

“I was surprised, too.”

David looked at her with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “They sound religious.”

“They are. They’re Catholic.”

“I don’t know if I like the idea of a couple religious fanatics coming into the house and spouting their mumbo jumbo.”

“I’m not crazy about it either, honey,” Jenna said. She reached across the table and put her hand on his. “But what else are we going to do? Do
you
have any ideas? At least they have experience with this sort of thing. It’s like with the wiring—we’ve got to bring in someone who knows what they’re doing.”
 

Looking weary and troubled, he nodded. “I guess we don’t have much choice.”

Jenna made a pot of coffee and they took their cups to the living room. They said little as they sat in the warmth of the fire with the television on, along with every light in the house.
 

The Binghams, Jenna thought, could not arrive soon enough.

Chief Oscar Winningham of the Eureka Police Department stood when the desk sergeant escorted them into his office. He was a bearish man in his late fifties, with a voice so deep and booming that Lily could feel it in her chest when he spoke. She felt it behind her eyes, too, where a dull pain steadily throbbed.
 

Winningham’s office was not large, but it was neat— except for his desk, which was cluttered with papers, manila folders and envelopes, a few books. Behind it on an old scuffed credenza was a cluster of framed photographs arranged around a few tall awards from community organizations. A stuffed marlin at least four feet long was mounted on the wall above the credenza and dominated the room.
 

Lily and Claudia sat in front of Winningham’s desk in a couple of metal-framed chairs with dark green vinyl-upholstered seat- and back-cushions.
 

Winningham’s dark hair was cut short and streaked with white. Bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows rested on the top edge of his wire-framed glasses like exotic caterpillars napping. His nose was bulbous, and when he smiled, his twinkling green eyes nearly disappeared into slits bracketed by crow’s-feet. He wore khaki pants and a long-sleeved blue-and-yellow plaid shirt that-strained slightly against his barrel-like torso. He lowered himself into his squeaky chair behind the desk and leaned forward toward Lily and Claudia.
 

“Lily Rourke,” he said. “How about that. You’re lucky you caught me. I was just on my way out to go fishing. I came in to do a couple things, but didn’t plan on staying. In fact, I’m running a little late, but that’s okay.” He did not stop smiling as he put his forearms on the desk and joined his large hands together. “Would either of you like some coffee?”
 

“No, thank you,” Claudia said.

They’d gone to Denny’s again for breakfast and Lily had ordered a bowl of cream of wheat, which she’d hardly touched. She could use some coffee because she’d slept very little the night before, but she still felt mildly nauseated. “Nothing for me, thanks,” she said. “I’ll try to keep this short.”
 

“Don’t worry about the time,” Winningham said. “It’s my boat, so nobody’s going anywhere till I get there. What can I do for you? What brings you to Eureka?”
 

“I’m here to help a family that may be in some trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“I’m not sure yet—that’s the problem. I’m afraid I can’t give you any kind of explanation other than I... well, I
know
this family is in trouble. And I think it has something to do with the house they live in. More specifically, with the person who lived there before them.”
 

Half his smile fell away and the exotic caterpillars sleeping on the top rim of his glasses suddenly rushed together and almost collided above his nose. “If these people are in any kind of danger, you need to tell me so I can—”
 

“No, it’s not a police matter. Not yet, anyway.”

“Could you give me some idea of what you’re talking about?”

Lily hesitated a moment. “You said you’ve heard of me?”

He smiled again. “Most of the cops I know have heard of you. The ones in California, anyway. You may not take any public credit for what you do, but cops talk.”
 

“I’m glad. That means I don’t have to explain myself. Sometimes that’s difficult. I think the problem this family is dealing with is supernatural.”

“Supernatural.”

“Yes.”

“Is this about the ghost that beat up the medium the other day?”

“It’s connected, yes. I hope this doesn’t change your mind about talking to me.”

“No, no. You’re the expert. But as long as no laws are being broken and nobody’s in trouble, then why come to me?”

“I need to learn as much as I can about the man who lived in the house prior to this family.”

Winningham’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a second. That would be—”

“Leonard Baines. He lived on—”

“Lenny Baines on Starfish Drive?” Winningham said.

“Leonard Baines is all I have. It’s possible that he went by Lenny.”

The chair squeaked as Winningham sat back. “That story about the ghost that beat up the trucker who talks to dead people—that took place in Lenny’s old house. I understand his daughter inherited it.”
 

“That’s right. So you’re familiar with Leonard Baines?”

“Everybody here knew Lenny.”

Lily nodded. “I thought that might be the case. What kind of trouble was he in?”

“Trouble? Lenny was never in any trouble. He was a little goofy, I guess, and he liked to drink, but he never got into trouble. It was terrible what happened last year, Lenny taking his own life. A lot of people were real sad about that. But there was no funeral. That’s the way Lenny wanted it. No funeral, no memorial, he just wanted to be cremated and his remains disposed of. Good ol’ Lenny Baines. Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” He leaned forward again, no longer smiling.

“If he lived at 2204 Starfish Drive, then yes. Tell me about him.”

“Lenny was always helping us out with charitable activities.”

“Us?” Lily said.

“Yeah, the department, Eureka PD. He worked hard on the toy drive every Christmas. He played Santa Claus after our regular Santa, Hank Darby, died of a heart attack. And every spring, Lenny put on an Easter egg hunt for a group of handicapped kids. For a few years in a row, he threw the department’s summer barbecue for underprivileged kids in his backyard. He set up a slide and swing for the kids. No, Lenny was never in any trouble. Just the opposite. Everybody who knew Lenny liked him. His parents were good folks, too.”
 

“When did all that stop?” Lily asked.

Winningham looked at her a moment wearing a slight smile, impressed that she knew it had stopped. “About nine, ten years ago. It stopped a little at a time. First he quit opening his place up to the kids. Then he pulled out of the toy drive one Christmas. In a couple years, he’d stopped doing everything, and suddenly we realized we hadn’t seen Lenny around in months. Months became a year, two years, three. Somebody dropped in on him one day. He was drunk and cranky and alone, and that’s exactly what he wanted. So we left him alone. He was never any trouble. As much as he drank, he was never once charged with DWI, didn’t even get any speeding tickets. None within the city limits, anyway.”
 

“These charity events—” Lily’s voice broke, and she stopped, cleared her throat. “They always involved children?”

Winningham’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head. “If you’re suggesting something, Miss Rourke, I wish you’d come right out and say it.”
 

Lily felt Winningham’s defensiveness and decided to say no more about Leonard Baines for the moment. “No. I’m not suggesting anything. But I do need to ask about children. Have there been an inordinate number of children disappearing in this area?”
 

“What exactly are you getting at?”

“Chief Winningham, if I knew what I was getting at, I’d get at it. I’m trying to piece together some images I’ve been seeing, images I don’t completely understand. They involve children. Young boys.”
 

“Images? You mean ... visions?”

“Yes, visions.”

Winningham thought about it a moment, shook his head. “No, I can’t say we’ve had any more children disappear around here than in any other town this size. It happens, but there hasn’t been an increase in the years I’ve been in this department, and I’ve been here forever, it seems. Coming up on thirty-one years.”
 

Lily picked up her purse from the floor and put it on her lap. She removed a pen and a small pad, and wrote down two names: Billy Enders and Jonah Wishman. She tore the page out and handed it across the desk and said, “These are the names of two young boys. I think they might have been from around here.”
 

Winningham frowned at the names. “They don’t ring a bell, but I’ll have Merry run a search on them.”

“Could you do that right away?” Lily said. “I’m sorry if I’m imposing, but it’s very important. I think time is a factor in this.”
 

“Merry’s not in right now, but she’ll be back around noon. Leave a number where one of us can reach you.”

“I appreciate that, Chief.”

He said, “I’m still very curious as to why you’re asking about Lenny Baines.”

“You knew him well?” Lily asked.

“Took him out on the boat fishing a few times. Mostly I saw him when he got involved in some department charity. I can’t say I knew him well, but I knew him.”
 

“Can you tell me what he looked like?”

“Lenny? Oh, he was a big guy, got pretty fat in his later years, even fatter than me.” He turned to the credenza behind his desk. His hand moved in a circle in the air above the framed photographs a few times, then dove like a bird of prey and plucked a single picture out of the group. “This is from one of the Christmas parties.” He handed the silver-framed photograph across the desk to Lily.
 

There were five people in the picture, all in uniform but one. Lily recognized him instantly. The sight of him in a pair of denim overalls and a red-and-black plaid shirt with his white cowboy hat in hand made her feel light-headed for a moment. “That’s him, all right,” she muttered.
 

Claudia got up, stood behind Lily, and looked at the picture over her shoulder.

Leonard Baines stood with Winningham and three uniformed officers in front of a Christmas tree. Baines stood in the center and Winningham had an arm around his shoulders. His graying hair was thinning on top, stringy and in need of a cut on the sides and in back. His mouth was askew in a lopsided smile, which revealed a molar with a shiny silver cap.
 

She handed the photograph back to Winningham and he replaced it on the credenza. “Did anything ... bad ever happen at Lenny Baines’s house?”
 

“Anything
bad
? What do you mean?”
 

“I’m not sure. Something you’d remember. Any deaths in the house?”

“Only his mother. She died in her sleep. His dad died in the hospital. And, of course, Lenny.”

“Were you ever inside Lenny’s house?”

“I was over there several times. But I don’t remember if...” The creases in the chief’s forehead deepened. “You know, now that I think about it, I don’t believe I was ever inside Lenny’s house. Why do you ask?”
 

“Again, I’m just curious. I’m groping around for questions as well as answers.” Lily turned to Claudia. “Could you give the chief your cell phone number, please?”
 

Claudia and Winningham exchanged cell phone numbers, each written on the back of a business card.

“How long do you plan to be in town, Miss Rourke?” Winningham said.

“I’m not sure. As long as I need to be. Thank you for your number. I promise not to abuse it.”

“Feel free to call me if you need anything. I’ll be out on the boat today, but other than that, I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
 

Lily thanked Winningham again for his time, and she and Claudia left his office and the police station.

“My God,” she said in the car. “Children. He surrounded himself with children.”

Claudia said, “Where do you want to go next?”

“I have to sleep. My head is killing me and I feel like puking. Take me back to the motel. You can go shopping, if you’d like, or do some sight-seeing.”
 

“Okay. The motel it is.”

“Would you mind leaving your cell phone with me? I want to know what this Merry comes up with.”

“Sure.”

Lily leaned her head back and groaned. “I’m worried, Claudia. I can’t help them if I can’t talk to them.”

“Get some sleep first. We can try again this afternoon.”

Lily glanced at the small digital clock above the rearview mirror. It was 9:51 A.M. “Yeah. This afternoon.”