Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery (36 page)

Kim walked over to us at that moment. “Oh no, not you again,” she said when she saw me. “Can’t you just call me if you want to get together, instead of wrecking your car or getting hit over the head? It would really save you a lot of time and money.”

“You’re very funny,” I told her. “Wait a minute while I bust a gut laughing.”

Mike stood up, and Kim sat down next to me. “Well, I see more stitches in your future,” she said, looking at the cut over my left eye. “You must have hit the steering wheel or something.”

“It all happened so fast, I couldn’t tell you,” I told her. “It might have been when I got hit from behind before the dually hit me.”

She looked over at my Olds 442. “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, do they?” she said.

“No, they don’t,” I said sadly.

“Well, they don’t make them like you anymore, either, so stop trying to save the world, all right?”

I glanced up at Mike. “I think I’ll put my superhero costume back in the attic.”

“Keep the cape out,” she said, standing up. “You can always wear it around the house for no reason.” She looked over at Mike. “Or for one or two reasons.” She walked away laughing.

Reynolds came back over. “They’re taking Joey to the hospital. When he hit the side of the dually, it pushed the engine block back into the minivan. He’s got two broken legs, not to mention a really bad gash on one leg. I’ve handcuffed him to the gurney, although it’s kind of pointless. He’s definitely not going to be running off any time soon.”

Mike helped me to my feet. “I’ll drive you to the hospital, and while we’re there, we’ll talk to Joey and Pamela.”

“We?” I said.

“You’ve come this far. Might as well see it through to the end.”

Chapter 45

M
ike waited while they stitched up my cut. They took out the first set of stitches, and checked me out to make sure I didn’t have any other injuries. Besides some bruised ribs, and the promise of many colorful bruises soon, they said I was fit as a fiddle, even though the fiddle had taken a beating.

They weren’t allowing any visitors into Pamela’s room yet, so we went to talk to Joey. He was in considerable pain, and definitely not in the mood to talk to us. “Why couldn’t you just stand still and die like a normal scared person?”

“Do forgive me. I’ll try to do better next time,” I said sarcastically.

“Women,” he mumbled, “can’t trust them to do anything you tell them to.”

“Are you referring to Pamela Dimwitty?” Mike asked him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but she’s an idiot. How hard can it be to make a woman walk over to a minivan?”

“Apparently, damn near impossible for her,” I replied.

He grunted.

“So, it was you and Pamela who killed your father,” Mike said.

“You were supposed to believe it was Desmond Long Sr. who did it.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened that day?”

“When I drove out there that day, I passed Pamela. She didn’t look happy. But when I got there, I saw there was another car already in the driveway. I decided to park in the back, and I came in through the kitchen. I could hear someone arguing with Dad. ‘You will continue to pay the money,’ the person said, ‘or I’ll make sure that you regret it.’ My father’s answer was ‘Like you did forty years ago? I’ve paid long enough. Get out, and take that rotten son of yours with you.’”

“Did you get a look at who it was?”

Joey nodded. “It was Desmond Sr. He stormed out, chewing on his cigar. I waited a few minutes, and then went into the living room. Dad was sitting on the couch, looking worried. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me it was none of my business. I figured it was best not to push him for more information right then, so I just let it go. But then I had my own argument with him.”

“About what?” I said.

“All those low-income houses he’s been building. They’re eating into the company’s bottom line. We need to cut back.”

“It was more than that, wasn’t it?” I told him. “I saw an article about Prufrock demanding an audit of your mother’s foundation. You were embezzling money from the foundation to cover your gambling debts, weren’t you? But it wasn’t enough; that’s why you were trying to take over your dad’s company. We need that low-income housing around here.”

“Then let someone else build them, but not Ingram Construction. Dad wouldn’t hear of it. And then he told me he knew about the hostile takeover bid that I was putting together. I don’t know how he found out about it. He made it crystal clear what I was to do: Either give up the takeover bid, or he would fire me.”

“You didn’t answer Cam’s questions. Was Prufrock right about the embezzlement?

“Yeah, he was, the little rat. But the only reason he knew was because Susan told him. I had borrowed as much as I could from my property company. I knew that if I took over Dad’s company, I’d have the money I needed to pay my gambling debts, put the money back in my own company, and stop building those stupid cheap houses.”

“Did he say he was going to disown you?” Mike said. I knew what he was thinking: Did Clinton do to Joey what Phillip had done to Clinton all those years ago?

“No, he said he would never do that to me. But there was no way I was going to let him fire me from the company. I had too much invested in the business.”

“So what happened?”

“I told him that he was the one that needed to leave the company to make way for the younger generation. He said that he had already made arrangements for the company, but I wouldn’t be a part of them. Then he turned his back to me. There was a tray of cheese and crackers on the coffee table.”

“And there was a knife on the tray,” I said as things became clear.

He nodded sadly. “I didn’t mean to do it. It just…happened. He reached around, trying to take the knife out of his back. Then he just fell to the floor. I panicked. No one had seen me there, and I knew it would be normal to find my fingerprints there, so I left.”

“And how did Pamela get mixed up in this?”

“Apparently I passed her on the road again, this time as I was leaving the house. I didn’t see her. Dad had sent her to the office to pick up some paperwork he needed for a bid on a new project. When she got to the house and saw him on the floor, well, it didn’t take her long to figure out had happened.”

“You said you loved her,” I suddenly remembered. “How long have you two been involved?”

“About a year.”

“Did Susan know?”

“Oh yeah, she knew. She knew about the takeover bid, too. Knew I needed the money. Pamela wanted a better position in the company, and she was going to make sure she was going to get it.”

“And you didn’t have a problem telling her that you would accommodate her, did you?” Mike said. “Especially if it kept your involvement in murder a secret.”

Joey didn’t say anything.

“So how does Junior fit into all of this?”

“Pamela panicked. Women,” he shook his head. “They never think things through. When the board named Junior as interim president, she saw her plans going down the drain. So she kidnapped him, took him out to the company house down by the lake. Then she decided it would be a good idea if she disappeared, too, to make it look like someone was going after people at the company.”

“How did you find out about it?” Mike said.

“I was already at the house, hiding out while you conducted your investigation. Next thing I know, she drags him into the house. We stuck him in a shed behind the house.”

“And the dog?”

“Another example of never thinking things through. She wouldn’t leave the yapping toy behind. I told her that was going to be a dead giveaway, but she said everyone would just assume that it ran away in the chaos.”

“So how did Junior end up tied to the tree in Pamela’s backyard?” I asked him.

“I did that. I found out Pamela was going to the board members, asking them to name her as interim president, not Junior. Backstabbing little twit. So I hauled Junior over to her house, left him there and made the 911 call.”

“I’m sure she wasn’t happy about that,” Mike said.

“She was furious. That’s when she came up with this stupid idea of putting pressure on you by taking her,” he said, pointing at me.

“And what did that get you?” I said. “Two broken legs.”

“How’s Pamela?” he asked us.

“We don’t know,” Mike said. “They were running some tests on her when we went to see her, so we decided to come see you instead.”

“Lucky me,” Joey muttered. “So what happens now?”

“Well, after they finish with you here, you’ll be transferred to the prison ward. We’ll bring in a judge for a formal arraignment, where you’ll be charged with murder, kidnapping, attempted murder, among other things.”

“What about Pamela?”

“Accessory after the fact, kidnapping, attempted kidnapping, and a few other charges, I’m sure.”

“So she’s won’t be free to run Ingram Construction?”

“Definitely not. I’m sure the board will retain Junior as permanent president.”

“If they had any brains, they’d pick VanMeter. He’s a good man.”

“I’ll pass that along,” Mike told him.

An orderly came in to take Joey to X-ray, so we made our way back to Pamela’s room. She was there, but unconscious, according to one of the nurses. She had suffered a severe concussion when I fell on her; they weren’t sure when she would regain consciousness.

By the time we got back to Mike’s patrol car, I felt very tired and very sore. “What time is it?” I asked him as I put the seatbelt on.

“Almost three. Why?”

“Just wondering. I need to go back to the store and see if they’ll replace my new laptop that I never got to use.”

“How are you going to explain the damage?”

“I’ll say that the laptop sacrificed itself for me. Laid down its little electronic life so that I might live.”

Mike laughed. “I think you need to get some rest. You’re a little punchy.”

“Just a little tired. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to take you home.”

“Do you think it’s safe?”

“I think so,” Mike said. “The two people I was most concerned about are secure.”

“What about Brennan?”

“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him, but I’m not sure when he’ll be back. I think he got spooked the moment I said we were going to take his fingerprints for elimination purposes. He realized we were going to find out who he really was.”

“I wonder why he was so worried about it after all this time, though. It doesn’t sound like he did the dirty work for the mob. He did more of the ‘gentle persuasion’ type of enforcement,” I said.

“As in ‘please pay us or we’ll break your legs, and apologize for it afterwards’?” Mike laughed again.

“Now who’s getting punchy? Mike, I just realized something. We have to tell Clinton and Lillian.”

“I know,” Mike said. “We’ll do it after I get off work tonight, would that be all right?”

I nodded. “I’m fine with that. I think I’ll take a nap when I get home.”

“I’ll bring something over for supper.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

“Tell him he doesn’t need to bring anything for me, I’m never hungry.”

“Oh, nerts.”

“What’s wrong?” Mike said.

“Mac’s in the back seat.”

“Never did like the view from back here,” Mac said. “And it usually smelled awful, too. What happened to your head?”

“Minor war wound,” I told him. “Why are you here?”

“You need to go over to the Ingram house.”

“And why do we need to go over to the Ingram house?”

“The Ingram house?” Mike repeated.

“Because there is someone there that you are looking for,” Mac said.

“Brennan.”

“He knows where Brennan is?” Mike asked. “Where?”

“The Ingram house.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Mac said before he disappeared.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to ghosts just popping in and out of my life,” I said. “Why can’t I have a nice, normal life like everyone else?”

“Who said anything about you was normal?” Mike teased.

“Thanks, I feel all warm and fuzzy now.”

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of the Ingram house. I had seen more of this place in the last couple of weeks than I had in years.

Mac opened the door for us once again, and we followed him down the hall to the living room. Lillian and Clinton were in their usual places on the couch, and Brennan, aka Desmond Long Sr., was sitting in a chair across from them. “How odd to find you here,” he said as we came in.

“A little birdy told us you were here, Mr. Brennan,” I replied.

“So, you know who I am,” he said sadly.

“Yes, we do,” Mike said.

“What happened to your head?” Brennan asked me.

“Car accident,” I replied.

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that. I hope no one else was hurt.”

“Joey Ingram’s in the hospital with two broken legs.”

“Did he hit you?”

“Yes and no, but totally irrelevant to the reason you are here, I’m sure, Mr. Brennan. What do you want?”

“I wanted to let you know that I had nothing to do with the murder of Clinton Ingram. However our business relationship may have started, I truly thought of him as a friend. I could never kill a friend.”

Clinton snorted derisively.

“But someone who owed you or your boss money was a different matter entirely, correct?”

“Depended on the situation.”

“So why did you kill Lillian Ingram then? Was that business or personal?”

I heard Mac gasp.

“What makes you think I killed her?”

“Because Clinton wanted out, even though he hadn’t finished paying back all the money he owed your organization. Your boss wanted to send a message to Clinton, so you came here and killed her.”

Brennan got a sad look on his face. “She was a beautiful woman, you know, so full of life. She had this wonderful laugh, and you could tell she was really listening to what you had to say by the way she tilted her head slightly to the right.”

“He’s right,” Mac said. “She was a wonderful woman to talk to.”

“Is that why you strangled her from behind that night?” I asked Brennan.

He nodded. “I couldn’t look her in the eyes. I would have chickened out. I actually did, several times that week.”

“So why did you suddenly decide to do it that night?”

“Because I saw two guys from Vegas in the crowd. They were ruthless, heartless men. I knew what they would do to her, and it wouldn’t have been pretty. There was no way I was going to allow them to ruin her beauty. So, I followed her backstage and…well, you know.”