Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 02 - A Spirited Tail (2 page)

“Me, too,” Ophelia said. “I’m sure they have ways of handling it.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t so sure they did and I was already feeling responsible for the dog.

“I hope this won’t impede the selling of the house.” Ophelia brushed some dirt off her skirt. It was just like her to be thinking about her bottom line instead of about the dead guy in the back.

“So, what’s the deal with this house, anyway?” I asked. I could see it was probably a hundred years old, but I knew it had been abandoned for decades. I had vague memories of rumors of it being haunted when I was a kid, but couldn’t remember exactly why. 

“Oh, it was the victim of a family squabble, I guess. The owner died a long time ago and didn’t have any heirs. Left the house to his two brothers, who couldn’t agree on selling terms. So, it sat all this time. I guess the last brother finally died and the house passed to the nephew. He contacted me to see if I could sell the house and its contents. Honestly, it’s in pretty bad shape from the looks of things out here. I don’t know if it’s worth trying to find a buyer.” Ophelia waved her hand at it dismissively.

I glanced back at the house with its crooked, paint-peeling shutters and weather-beaten wood door. A few bricks were missing here and there, but otherwise, the brick facing was in good condition. Many of the windows had been boarded up and the old, wavy glass on the ones that hadn’t been were caked with dirt. You could barely see inside … except for one window at the end of the porch where a frantic movement caught my eye. 

My stomach tightened. 

I hope that isn’t what I think it is
.

“What is it?” Ophelia looked at me curiously.

I jerked my head to face forward. “Oh, nothing.” 

But I couldn’t help myself. A few seconds later, I was looking at the window again out of the corner of my eye. I saw the same misty, swirly motion I had before. I squinted, alarm spreading in my chest as I realized what was in there. 

It was as I had feared—there was a ghost in the house and it wanted to talk to me.

Chapter Two

Ghosts were the other side-effect of my accident, and the reason why I didn’t have much choice about investigating certain murders. Ever since the accident, I’d been able to talk to the dead. And, as if it wasn’t disturbing enough that I could have conversations with them, it usually turned out that they wanted something from me … like investigating their murder. 

Judging by the way the ghost in the window was gesturing for me to go inside, I figured he was no different than the others.

“Is something over there?” Ophelia craned her neck in the direction of the window.

“No. I was just trying to see what was inside.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell Ophelia that I talked to ghosts. The only person who knew was my best friend, Pepper St. Onge, and I wanted to keep it that way so I turned around and ignored the ghost’s wild gesturing while I waited for Gus and her crew to arrive. Somehow, I’d have to get inside and talk to him, but not with Ophelia around to hear us.

“I wonder what’s inside, too.” Ophelia turned around to look at the door. “The house is supposed to be loaded with furniture and all the household items and, of course, the books.”

And ghosts.

“No one has been in there yet?” I asked.

Ophelia shook her head. “Nope. I’m meeting with the client today. He wants me to catalog the items. He said he’d probably sell them off first, then list the house. But I tell you, it’s going to need some work if he expects to get anything decent for it.”

I nodded, then drowned out her chatter as I tried to figure out how to get in without her. The house was located off the beaten path, away from town and no nearby neighbors. I noticed how still and silent it was out here. Even the usual cacophony of bird sounds were absent, as if the birds were maintaining a moment of silence out of respect for the dead. Only the forlorn cry of a mourning dove could be heard above the distant sound of the approaching sirens.

“Here they come.” Ophelia stood and brushed off the back of her skirt. “I hope she’ll let us get in today. I need to take a good look before meeting with the client.”

“Me, too.” I glanced at the window to see my new friend still gesturing.

I pulled my jeans out of my socks and brushed away black flies as the sirens got louder. The sun peeked at me from the tops of the pine trees. I realized I was going to be late opening my bookstore and felt glad I worked for myself with no boss to admonish me when I came in late. 

The now-deafening sirens turned into the circular driveway, which I assumed had once been crushed gravel. Most of the gravel had disappeared and now it was mostly dirt, weeds, and a few stones. 

Mercifully, Gus cut the siren as her police-issue brown and tan Crown Victoria pulled to a stop. She hopped out of the driver’s side and her young deputy, Jimmy Ford, got out of the passenger side. Two of the crime scene techs got out of the other car, loaded down with various pieces of equipment.

“The ambulance is a few minutes out,” Gus said. “Had to take Miles Warner to the hospital with a gallstone attack.”

I nodded. The small town of Mystic Notch only had one ambulance. I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to help the guy in the backyard, anyway.

Gus raised her left brow. “So, where’s the body?”

“Over here.” I tilted my head toward the side of the house and Gus marched off in front of me, her long blonde ponytail swinging behind her. I watched for a second before falling in behind her. I still got a kick of seeing my little sister in her police uniform. Eight years separated us and she was just a teenager when I’d moved down South. Now, twenty-five years later, we were just becoming acquainted as adults and I guess I still thought of her as that teenage girl, sometimes, even though she was forty years old.  

Gus turned the corner, her hawk-like eyes taking in the scene in front of her. Her new deputy, Jimmy Ford, scrambled along behind her with his notebook out, ready to jump at Gus’s every command. 

I felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor kid. Fresh out of the police academy and barely old enough to shave, he didn’t seem to have much confidence and could usually be found following close behind Gus like a puppy eager to prove himself.

The dog was still there. He let out a low growl as we neared the body.

Jimmy stopped short. “Is that dog vicious?”

“What?” I scrunched my face up at him. “No. He’s perfectly nice. Just guarding the body. I imagine he must belong to the deceased.”

“He does,” a gritty voice rasped from behind me. The voice sounded like its owner had drunk a bottle of whiskey and munched on rocks for breakfast and I turn to face the county medical examiner, Gertie Sloan, trudging through grass that was almost as tall as she was. Gertie must have been ninety if she was a day, but somehow managed to keep the job as chief M.E.  Probably because no one else wanted it.

“You know him?” I asked.

“Yep. That’s Ranger. Belongs to our victim, Bruce Norton.” Gertie bent over to get a look at the body, then turned to me sharply. “What in tarnation did you do to him?”

“Me? I didn’t do that … he was already like that.” I gestured to his forehead. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him. Is he from Mystic Notch?” 

Gertie ignored me and returned to inspecting the body. 

“You probably wouldn’t remember him,” Gus said without looking up at me. She continued walking around the area, her eyes glued to the ground searching for clues. “He kept pretty much to himself.”

Gus finished her circling of the area and started issuing commands. “Tape off the area. Establish a search grid around the body.”

Jimmy scrambled to get to the yellow police tape. The crime scene techs started opening their boxes and pulled out various implements of the trade. One of them started taking pictures. Another started placing yellow numbered evidence markers.

Ranger watched the activity with weary eyes. 

“So, what happened to him?” Ophelia had joined us and was peering over my shoulder.

“Someone killed him,” Gertie stated the obvious.

“What about his forehead?” Jimmy looked at the body and then blanched. His face turned pale, making the red dots of pimples stand out even more than usual. He jerked his eyes away and got busy with the crime-scene tape.

“The markings are very odd.” Gertie rubbed her chin. “They do seem somewhat familiar, but I can’t quite place them. It seems someone is trying to send a message.”

“A message?” Ophelia asked. “To whom?”

Gertie shrugged and walked around the body to inspect it from another angle. 

“Did you guys trample the crime scene?” Gus asked accusingly, pointing at the area of tamped down grass where Ophelia had fainted.

“No,” I said defensively. “Well, Ophelia fainted there, but other than that we stayed as far away as we could.”

Gus twisted her mouth up and gave me the evil eye. “You didn’t touch anything?”

“Nope.” I shook my head and lifted my hand up beside my face holding the first three fingers up and bending my thumb and pinkie in toward my palm. “Scout’s honor.”

Gus narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you see anyone here … maybe pass someone on the road?”

I thought back to my ride up the winding mountain road. I hadn’t seen anyone. Ophelia had already been here when I arrived. I glanced over at her and she shook her head. 

“I don’t remember seeing anyone,” I said.

“Me, either,” Ophelia added.

“There’s no car here,” Jimmy pointed out eagerly. “So how did the victim get here? He probably came with the killer.”

“Or walked.” Augusta pointed to the west. “Bruce lived over there not too far and there’re a lot of trails in the woods. He could have been taking Ranger for a walk and maybe stumbled on the killer doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.”

“I wonder why a killer would be
here
…” Ophelia glanced around uneasily.

“Me, too,” Gus said. “But even more than that, I wonder why
you
are here.”

“I’m listing the house,” Ophelia said. “Willa met me here to help appraise the book collection that is supposed to be in there.”

“You haven’t been in?” Gus asked.

“No.”

Gus glanced over at the large house. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

Ophelia explained how the sale of the house had been held up by the brothers of the previous owner and how the nephew had now hired her to sell it. “You don’t think that has anything to do with the murder, do you?”

Gus pressed her lips together. “It’s hard to say.  I don’t know why Bruce would be out here. He was quite a recluse and I’d heard some say they thought he might be getting dementia. He
was
getting on in years.”

“Not everyone who is getting on in years gets dementia,” Gertie bellowed from her position at the side of the body.

A smile flitted over Gus’s lips. “True.”

“Why would anyone want to kill an old man?” I asked.

“That’s the question.” Gus fixed me with a pointed stare. “And I hope you don’t feel the need to take it upon yourself to find the answer.” 

I plastered a look of innocence on my face and slid my eyes over to the house. I had no intention of getting involved in a murder investigation … but my new ghostly friend might have other ideas.

“Can someone help me roll him over?” Gertie yelled, catching Gus’ attention. 

Gus walked over next to Gertie, but as soon as she bent down, Ranger started to growl. 

“Oh, come on now, Ranger.” Gertie stuck her hand out and the dog whined and licked her wrist just above the purple latex glove she wore. “Better get him out of here. He might not like strangers messing around with Bruce.”

“I’ll call Mel at the dog pound and have him come,” Jimmy offered.

“Pound?” My heart twisted at images of the grieving dog sitting in a cage, cold and unloved flooding my mind. He’d just lost his master—hadn’t he been through enough? “No way. I’ll take him until we can see if any family members want him.”

“I don’t care where he goes, just get him out of my crime scene,” Gus said.

“Is there any rope around here?” I surveyed the area near the house, but came up empty.

“There’s some in the car,” Jimmy glanced at Gus. Gus gave a curt nod and Jimmy jogged off toward the Crown Vic.

Gertie grabbed on to Ranger’s collar and led him toward me.  I squatted down and reached out, letting Ranger sniff me, which he did hesitantly.

“Good dog.” I nodded up at Gertie, who let go of his collar. Ranger seemed to understand what was going on and let me tie the rope Jimmy had brought to the ring on his collar. 

Ophelia cleared her throat and we all turned to look at her. “I don’t suppose we could go in the house now …?”

Gus’ eyes slid from Ophelia to the house. “We need to check it out first. Do you have a key?”

Ophelia held up a weather-beaten brass house key. “My client mailed me this … he said it should open the house but I haven’t tried it.”

“Okay. Open the door and let Jimmy check it out. Stay outside until we say you can go in.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Jimmy practically saluted Gus and ran off to the front with Ophelia close behind. Gus stared after them, her lips quirking up in a smile. I knew she got a kick out of the way the young deputy idolized her, but I also knew she wasn’t on a power trip about it—she truly wanted to take him under her wing and teach him the ropes.

Gus turned her attention back to helping Gertie roll the body over and I turned away, focusing my attention on rubbing Ranger’s coarse fur.

“Looks like he got whacked pretty good.” Gertie’s emotionless voice carried across the grass. “Been dead a while.  He was hit with something pretty big.  A shovel, maybe. I’ll need to get him to the lab to tell more.”

Instinctively, I looked around for a big shovel, or some other implement that could have done the deed. My search came up empty.

“The ambulance should be here shortly,” Gus said.

“Okay.” Gertie stood amidst various popping noises. “I can’t do much more here, so I’ll meet the body back at the lab.”

“Thanks.” Gus smiled up at Gertie who nodded curtly as she stripped off her purple gloves.