Dark Passing (The Ella Reynolds Series) (25 page)

I shook my head, trying not to smile.

“Well, are you satisfied? Can I go?” Grant turned back to me at the same time Gabriel said, “Are you ready to talk?”

I stared at the spot between them with no idea who to answer, then wanted to giggle madly.

“Yes,” I said, then repeated myself. “Yes.” How appropriate. The same word worked for both of them.

 Gabriel didn’t look at all relieved by my announcement.

“Seriously, Gabriel, it’s nothing. Why are you so anxious to talk about a migraine?”

 Grant sighed and faded into the air.

“I’ve seen that look before. You were scared,” Gabriel said, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the spot Grant had just departed from. Then he waved his hand through the air. “I swear I felt a draft,” he muttered.

I shook my head. “Can we just talk about the case, please?”

We faced off and his cheek twitched. I could practically see the wheels turning, but he was inscrutable as ever. I expected him to push the issue, interrogate me, but my phone rang. I held up a hand to stay the inevitable argument and answered.

“Ella, it’s Lola.” She sounded tired and deflated. The natural strength and poise of her tone teetering near collapse.

Different responses bubbled into my mind. How are you?
Have you heard from Alfie? Did you know your husband was cheating on you? Did Alfie? What did you do? But all I managed was, “Hi.”

“I take it you’ve heard?”

“That Alfie’s missing? Yes. Have you learned anything new?”

“Nothing. Not a damn thing. Do you think, is it possible that, you know… like Mary?”

For the time being, she didn’t need to hear what I really thought. “No, I don’t think it’s like Mary. Alfie doesn’t fit the profile.”

“Then where is he? If he was kidnapped, why was there no ransom request?”

“I don’t know. Is it possible he’s hiding?”

“He would’ve called me. I’m his mother.”

I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he would’ve called, maybe not. The questions I wanted to ask,
needed
to ask, would be inappropriate and insensitive. I glanced at Gabriel and mouthed “Lola” at him. He nodded. “Hopefully, you’ll hear something soon,” I said lamely.

“I know you’re looking for Mary’s killer, but please help find my son. Mary’s dead; Alfie might not be. Please.”

“Fagan will—”

“No. He didn’t save any of them or find the killer. It’s his fault that madman is still free.”

“I’ll do what I can but—”

“That’s all I ask for. Thank you.” She sniffled.

“I’ll come by tomorrow to talk to you. Get some rest.”

I tossed the phone to the other side of the couch. Today just kept getting better and better. Already I had one case I could barely keep up with, now I saw ghosts and had a stupid kid to find. “Can we please talk about the case?” I said again.

 “If that’s what you want,” he said.

I let out a slow breath and retrieved the diary. “What’s the status on Fagan’s end of things?”

“He said he’s taking care of it.”

“And he’s looking into who owns that farm property?”

“He said it was willed to a university, but they haven’t done anything with it. What did Lola want?”

“Me to find Alfie. She doesn’t have faith in Fagan.”

Gabriel ran his hand through his hair.

“Look, if the killer has Alfie, it’s not a distraction. It’s more of a two-birds-one-stone sort of deal. And if the killer doesn’t have him, it doesn’t change the fact that Alfie’s still at the top of our list of people to talk to, right?” I reasoned aloud.

“I’ll help you find Alfie if you tell me what happened at the barn today. What scared you?”

So he wasn’t going to let this go, but I still didn’t want to tell him. He still doubted ghosts; he made that clear. He helped me, perhaps humored me, but would never fully accept what I saw, accept
me.

“I’m waiting.”

I looked into his earnest eyes and forced myself to trust him. It was contrary to every one of my preservation instincts, but it was also time. If we were truly going to be together, he had to know who I really was. “I saw a ghost.”

A smiled tugged at his lips. “You’re serious?”

I gave him an impatient look. We weren’t off to a good start. “Yes—a farmer in the loft that none of the rest of you could see. No, I’m not crazy. He was there. I can see ghosts.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “That’s why you asked me about mediums the other day?” I nodded. “What exactly happened?”

I plunged in. “A man with blood pouring from his eyes, staring at me from the loft.”

Gabriel’s face morphed from soft and understanding to rigid with shock and confusion. “You saw
what
?”

“An old man in overalls, with a white beard. His eyes were horrifically damaged, dripping blood down his face, onto the floor…” My voice faltered. “And wherever I moved, he followed.”

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not possible,” he muttered, and my heart sank.

“That’s what I saw.” I braced myself for the “Ella, you should drop the case. You’re under too much stress. You need a good night’s rest. Maybe go back to therapy” speech.

Gabriel’s mouth fell open. “Fagan told me a story about that barn while you were in the car. It was owned by a man named Silas Bede, a taxidermist. Silas was known for being cruel. He‘d beat his wife and child within an inch of their lives, always promising that if his wife ever left, he’d find her and kill her.” I winced and Gabriel nodded, looking equally upset. “Then one day his wife took her blood thinners and crushed all the pills into the morning coffee he always took with him to the barn. He died there alone—from massive internal bleeding.”

I stared.

“Had you heard the story?”

I shook my head. “What happened to his wife and child?”

“I don’t know. Fagan didn’t say.”

I clicked my teeth. I wanted to know. Seeing that man scared me, but now I wanted to know everything. I could call Fagan. He’d ask why I wanted to know, and I wasn’t sharing this with him. “So you believe me?”

He wrapped his arm around me. “Of course I believe you.” He kissed my temple. “I may not always agree with you, but I’ll always believe what you tell me. I take it this isn’t the first one you’ve seen.”

“Well, there’s Grant. He was here when you came in.”

“Right.”

“And I think I’ve been hearing Mary’s voice asking for help.”

Gabriel let out a long breath and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with this. Doesn’t it freak you out?”

“The man at the barn did. He was threatening, but Grant doesn’t. He’s a… friend.”

“So strange,” Gabriel said under his breath. “Maybe there’s someone we can talk to that knows about this stuff. I honestly always thought it was a load of crap.”

“So did I.”

“So you haven’t always, you know…?”

“Seen ghosts? No. I felt things in this house, the moment we moved in, but Grant was the first ghost I ever saw. Anyway, we don’t have to worry about all that now.” I figured he’d had about all he could take on ghosts, so I changed the subject back to his comfort zone. “What do you think about Alfie?”

His body eased. “I think you should let Fagan handle it and focus on Mary. Like you said, if they’re connected, you’ll find him when you find the killer. You’re further along in her case, and you have solid leads. Don’t get distracted.”

“But—”

“One case at a time, Sherlock.”

He was probably right. I sighed. “Well, at least this clears Lola.”

“Does it? It’s pretty convenient she calls you, begging you to look for her son, though you aren’t a police officer or even a private detective, just when we make real strides in Mary’s case. What business do you have looking into a possible kidnapping? And, no offense, what skills would you have for it?”

I nodded—and wasn’t offended in the slightest.

“And with her and William’s connections, if they really wanted the FBI involved, all it would take is a phone call to go over Fagan’s head. She or Alfie could be the killer and just buying time with this. My money’s on him being just fine when we find him.”

I hadn’t thought of any of that. Damn. Lola and Alfie could very well be in cahoots. “I won’t look into Alfie yet, but I did tell her I’d come by tomorrow. I doubt she’ll be at the gala, so I’m going to ask her about William.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Look, if she knew, we’ll be able to tell based on her reaction to my questions, right? And if she doesn’t know, she deserves to.”

“No one likes the messenger,” Gabriel warned.

“No, Lola’s proud and independent. Regardless of how this case comes out, she’ll find out about William, and I know she’d rather be prepared than blindsided.”

“But if she is involved, you’re tilting our hand—and making some fairly powerful enemies.”

I shrugged. “What are they going to do, fire me? It isn’t like I’m getting paid or working for them. After this case is over, I won’t be hanging out in Jackson. Who cares if they hate me? Fagan might have to kowtow to the powers that be, but I don’t.”

He chuckled. “I think you enjoy being a wild card.”

“I hate self-important people. They may have bigger houses and more money, but they’re no different than anyone else. They shouldn’t be treated differently.”

“It’s your case.”

I lifted the knocker on the huge double doors. Informing a woman I just met, whose son was currently missing, that her husband had cheated on her with a dead girl wasn’t my idea of a great way to start the morning, but it had to be done. I steeled my spine against last minute jitters and tightened my jaw. I’d want to know. I knocked firmly, Gabriel stoically beside me, his hands behind his back.

Fagan opened the door. He blinked and a stern look darkened his face. He hadn’t shaven in a couple days, which roughened his too-wholesome face just enough to make him interesting. What exactly was his story anyway? “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

I pushed a smile onto my face. “Lola invited me.” I ducked under his arm and walked in. Gabriel and Fagan whispered frantically behind me as Lola descended the grand staircase in a red pencil skirt, buttoning the cuffs on her cream-colored silk blouse. She gave me a thin-lipped smile and took both of my hands when she got closer, kissing the air on either side of my face.

“Thank you so much for coming, Ella. It means the world to me.” I squeezed her hands before I pulled mine away. “And who is this you brought with you?” She glanced at Gabriel. The sad, broken woman was gone and power and control were back in her voice.

“This is my…” Boyfriend sounded so juvenile I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I stumbled for the correct word—not partner, friend, lover, chauffeur—“Gabriel. This is Gabriel.”

His eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter. “It’s good to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances.” He held out a hand to her.

Lola nodded. “You’re the detective?”

“He worked my husband’s case,” I confirmed, looking between the two of them.

Gabriel’s cheek twitched slightly, but his face remained passive. I wondered if he ever got sick of that being the first question everyone asked. Gabriel rarely mentioned Danny unless it was to point out that he wasn’t him.

“Well, you’re very welcome. I’m sure Carter will take all the help he can get.” She sent an icy look to Fagan. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to whisk Ella off to the kitchen for a little girl talk.”

My eyes widened. I hoped “girl talk” meant murder and kidnapping because I wasn’t good at the other sort. Fagan nodded, but his glance at me was murderous.

Lola’s authoritative tone and expectation of obedience from Gabriel and Fagan, like they were hired servants, not high-level officers, lent credence to Gabriel’s observation that if she wanted the FBI involved, they would be. She took my arm in her firm grasp and led me through the house to the kitchen.

“Coffee?” she asked, finally relaxing her grip.

“Black.”

The kitchen was phenomenal. It had a bit of a rustic feel, and huge windows let in the beauty of a sprawling hillside view. There was a fireplace on one end, big enough to stand in, and exposed wooden beams lined the vaulted ceiling. She poured two cups and pushed one in my direction. She motioned for me to sit on the other side of an island. I crossed my legs and sipped the coffee.

Lola didn’t say anything. She stared at her mug, as if battling with how to begin. “Alfie didn’t kill those girls.” She spoke quietly, not looking up.

I sputtered and choked. Lola handed me a napkin, and I wiped the coffee from my mouth. “So you know, don’t you?”

She drummed her fingers on the marble counter. “Know what?”

“That William had an affair.”

She laughed lightly. “You are direct.” She rubbed her hand on the smooth surface. “I don’t expect you to understand. We have an open marriage. He has his flings and I have mine.”

“Did Alfie know?”

The smile melted away, and she looked levelly at me. “He figured it out.”

I nodded. “Did you know how he felt about Mary?”

She sighed. “I don’t get involved in my husband’s business, just as he doesn’t take interest in mine. I didn’t know who he was sleeping with until Alfie came to me the night Mary died.” She finally picked up her coffee and took a sip. “I’m taking a chance talking to you without my lawyer present. I trust you’re just looking for the truth, Ella.”