Out of the Shadows (Bellingwood Book 12) (18 page)

"Did he say anything about being able to drive the truck?"

"Nothing. But I assume he got himself and Jason back and forth with no trouble."

"I wonder how long it will be until those two can be friends," Polly said.

Henry reached out, grabbed her waist and pulled her close, then whispered in her ear. "Stop trying to fix those two boys. It's enough that you insist they ride together every day. They'll either work it out or they won't. Don't make it worse."

"Whatever," she said and licked his cheek.

He pushed her away and snagged the towel back to wipe his face. "Why did you do that?"

"Because."

"Because I'm right?" He tossed the towel at the sink and pulled her back in, then kissed her on the lips.

It truly didn't matter how often he did this to her, whenever Henry surprised Polly with a kiss, it still made her knees weak. "Whatever," she whispered.

He released her and stepped back. "I'll be in the bedroom watching the game. Heath said he'd take the dogs out before bed. Maybe you should spend extra time with your girl tonight. She was awfully quiet at dinner."

"I should," Polly said, nodding. "We haven't talked today. I hope school went well."

Henry was inching toward the door and she waved him off. "Go. Turn on your game. I'll be in later."

"I love you, too," he said and left as quickly as possible.

Polly let him go and walked into the living room. Rebecca was in one of the chairs, her legs curled up underneath her and a cat nestled in beside her, while Heath was bent over the coffee table, typing away on the laptop.

"What'cha working on?" Polly asked.

Rebecca turned her sketch pad toward Polly.

"What's that?"

"I was working on drawing that ghost," Rebecca said. "I have a bunch of sketches of her. Do you want to see?"

"Sure." Polly put her hand on Heath's back. "Are you comfortable here? Would you rather use the desk in your room or the dining room table?"

He shrugged. "I'm nearly done. Do you care if I turn the football game on after I'm done?"

Polly glanced at her bedroom. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't care. Finish your work and don't stay up too late. You have another long day tomorrow. Come on, Rebecca. Come into the dining room and show me what you've got."

Rebecca slid away from Leia and followed Polly back into the dining room.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Polly asked.

"No. Did you really just want to look at my drawings?"

Polly smiled. "I do want to see them." Her voice trailed off.

"But?" Rebecca pressed.

"But I also want to find out how your day went."

Rebecca dropped her head. "It was fine."

"Fine?" Polly sat down beside her and reached over to take Rebecca's hand. "What does that mean?"

"It felt like everybody was staring at me and the teachers treated me like I was one of the bad girls. Mrs. Bickle stared at me every time I walked past the office like she was waiting to catch me doing something wrong again."

"Did any of the kids say anything?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Andrew and Kayla were with me most of the day. The others left me alone."

"And what about the boy that hit you?"

"He got a week suspension. He's out until Friday." Rebecca put her hand on her cheek. "I hope I look better by then."

"You will. It won't be perfect, but you'll be better."

"I still don't understand."

Polly rubbed the top of Rebecca's hand. "Understand what?"

"Why I got into so much trouble when I didn't do anything wrong. It just isn't fair. Everybody thinks I'm bad now and all I did was stand up against a bully."

"We've talked about this over and over, sweetie. Life isn't fair."

"But that's not fair," Rebecca grew weepy and took her hand back so she could cross her arms and put her head down on the table.

"I know it's not," Polly said, rubbing Rebecca's back. She'd had an inkling today was going to be rough on the girl and wished she could make it all better with a snap of her finger. "But you get to come home and have us all remind you how much we love you and how terrific we think you are. Right?"

Rebecca lifted her shoulders.

"Right," Polly said. "And tomorrow, you'll go back to school and things will get better because people are moving on. Don't forget, they all have their own stuff and probably aren't thinking about you at all."

"So?" Rebecca mumbled.

"So you live through this. And I honestly don't believe the teachers think you are bad."

"You weren't there."

"You're right. I wasn't. But I know several of those teachers and they aren't like that. And you know as well as I do that the story of what happened last Thursday got around school pretty fast. They know the truth and they know what you did. Don't believe the worst of them because you think they're going to believe the worst about you."

Rebecca picked her head up and looked at Polly sideways. "What does that mean?"

"It means that sometimes we expect people to act a certain way so we interpret everything based on our expectations. Your teachers were probably not judging you at all. They have a lot of other things going on during the day and what you did five days ago is the least of their worries. Am I right?"

"I dunno. It sure felt like they were."

"Did anyone say or do anything?"

"No," Rebecca said. "It's just the way they looked at me."

"Hmm, maybe because they were worried about you or saw your bruised up face and were concerned?"

Rebecca touched her face again. "Do you think so?"

"Of course I do," Polly said with a chuckle. "Go in tomorrow and try something different. Believe the best about them and see how your interpretation of their actions changes things."

Rebecca put her head back in her arms and they sat there quietly for a few moments. Finally, she pushed her sketchbook toward Polly. "Did you really want to see these?" she asked, her face still buried.

Polly flipped through the sketchbook, past pictures of horses, cats and dogs, a few of the barn and some pages of trees and leaves until she landed on the first of several images of a young woman in a flowing dress. Rebecca was consistent in how she drew the woman's face, looking at it from different angles.

"She was a pretty girl," Polly said.

"Do you think it might be her?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen this girl before. Maybe it is Muriel Springer. That Jeremy Booten had all of the photographic equipment he needed to shoot a picture of a ghost. I wonder if he has anything this detailed."

"Could we take it to that old guy who knew her? Mr. Bridger?"

Polly shook her head. "I'm sorry, we can't. He died last night."

"He died?" Rebecca asked. Then she grew quiet. "You found him?"

"I did. This morning with Joss."

"You should have told me. I'm sorry," Rebecca said.

Polly pulled Rebecca in for a hug. "Thank you. I'm okay." She stroked the girl's hair and rubbed down her back. "And you will be, too. This is all going to work out. I promise."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Tell me I can fix them all," Polly said.

Henry turned over in bed and tugged her close. "You have to let them live out their own lives."

"But what if they miss out on something terrific because they're too blind to see what's right in front of their faces?"

He nuzzled her hair. "You smell good."

"You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

Polly turned so they were facing each other and kissed him. "Maybe. But what if Sylvie has scared both Eliseo and Grey so badly that they never get the courage to ask her out. She finally thinks it isn't a terrible idea and they have no idea. And what about Doug? He's such a dipstick. Anita is still single and probably one of the few people out there who understands him and what if he misses out on her?"

"The world will continue to rotate even if you aren't matchmaking." Henry ran his hand down her arm. "I promise."

She stuck her lower lip out. "But it would be more fun if I could."

"Sylvie would have your head and Doug would die of embarrassment. You don't want that, do you? The two of them are intelligent adults. And besides," he said. "What if you were to set them up because it was what Polly wanted, but it wasn't the right thing for them? If you'd tried to set me up with young single women while I was in my twenties, I would have missed out on the most amazing girl in the world."

"Who's that?" she asked coyly.

"Hagatha Dromvinica."

"Oh yeah. I know her. She's pretty wonderful."

"Leave this alone," Henry said. "You have to promise me."

"I'm inviting Anita to the Masquerade Ball. So there," she said, blowing a raspberry.

Henry kissed her lips just as she finished blowing air through them and Polly sputtered. "We don't have much time before the kids get up. Be quiet and tell me you love me."

"Which one?" Polly asked.

"Huh?"

"You told me to be quiet and then I'm supposed to tell you that I love you. One or the other, big boy. Which one."

He kissed her again, making the question moot.

~~~

By the time Polly got to the kitchen, Rebecca was the only one still there.

"Where is everyone?"

"Henry took Han. Said he had to be at the office early. Something about his dad lifting a dresser."

"And Heath?" Polly asked.

"He said Jason had to be at school early for a project meeting. I didn't pay attention."

Polly smiled. Two days in and at least the boys were communicating with each other. That was a start. "Are you ready for the day?"

Rebecca pulled out Polly's extra-large sunglasses and put them on, then threw her head back. "Will they let me get away with this?"

"Doubtful," Polly said, gently removing them from her daughter's face. The words still sounded strange, but she was going to keep saying them in her head until it finally felt normal. "Do you want a ride?"

"I can walk. It doesn't hurt that bad any more. Now it only looks funny."

"Can you remember what we talked about last night?" Polly asked.

"The teachers aren't judging me. They have plenty of other stuff to think about," Rebecca rattled off.

"That's right." Polly poured a cup of coffee. "Did you eat?"

"I made toast with peanut butter and jelly," Rebecca said.

Polly laughed. "I'm a horrible mom."

"We talked about that," the girl said, deadpan. "But none of us knows where to report you."

Polly chuckled as she sliced bread and dropped it into the toaster, then looked out the window. The forecast had called for sunshine today, but mornings were taking a long time to arrive. She already missed summer with its sunshine and warmth.

"Speaking of being a horrible mom," Rebecca said quietly.

"What have I missed?" Polly spun around. Everything was so new to her and just about the time she thought she had it all together, something else came along to remind her that humility was her go-to behavior.

"Halloween."

Polly tried to think of what she'd missed for Halloween. There was so much going on at Sycamore House in preparation for the weekend, sometimes she wasn't sure what was coming next. Then, it hit her. "You don't have a costume. Do you have any ideas?"

"I kind of thought about going as Black Widow, but Kayla heard that idea and wanted to do it, so I let her have it."

"Not Elsa from Frozen?" Polly asked with a grin on her face. She knew she'd hit the mark when Rebecca scowled at her.

"I'm not five."

"Got it. What is Andrew doing?" They hadn't talked much about Andrew since their last conversation. Polly had been looking for a way to rid themselves of all the tension surrounding that relationship and bring things back to normal.

"I don't know. He doesn't know."

"Do you want to be elegant and creepy or a superhero or a classic character?" Polly asked.

"I don't know. Maybe elegant and creepy?" Rebecca said.

"I have just the character for you." Polly leaned over and whispered in Rebecca's ear.

Rebecca smiled. "Do you think Andrew could...?"

Polly nodded. "Of course he could. Talk to him today and maybe we can go to the thrift stores in Ames tomorrow after school. I'm sure we can cobble together a couple of costumes. We'll ask Jessie to help with makeup and hair. You'll be perfect."

"You're the best," Rebecca said, jumping up from her chair and throwing her arms around Polly. "Thank you." She looked at the clock over the sink. "I'd better go. I want to talk to Andrew first thing. He'll love it."

"It's going to be cold today," Polly called. "Make sure you have your coat and gloves." It still killed her that she had to remind Rebecca every day to wear a coat. Surely when the temperatures dropped into the twenties, they'd get past the need for a daily admonition.

~~~

Tuesdays were Lydia's biggest day of the week, so they'd made no plans to work at Sycamore House, restoring quiet to the main level. Polly wasn't quite sure what to do with the silence. Jeff was at a Chamber of Commerce breakfast meeting and Stephanie was working away at her desk.

Polly found herself typing Jeremy Booten's name into social media sites and photo sharing groups, just in case he'd uploaded any pictures from his time here in Bellingwood. It bothered her that someone had gotten one over on her yesterday at the cemetery. She absentmindedly rubbed the back of her head and realized she'd never told Henry the whole story. Why bother him with details that would only upset him, right? And this was minor. The knot barely hurt today.

She searched Facebook until she found Jeremy Booten’s page and discovered that many of his photographs were public. He'd uploaded a series of pictures from some of his cemetery trips. Of course cemeteries would be perfect places for hauntings. But these were regular photographs taken of the locations and various gravesites. He'd announced that he was saving the best shots from his infrared and ultraviolet cameras for the book. But Jeremy had done his research when it came to reported hauntings around Iowa. There were pictures from the community college in Iowa Falls and even some of the buildings on Iowa State's campus. There were more ghost sightings in central Iowa than Polly imagined.

Clicking through pictures, she stopped on one of Sycamore Inn. What? Oh. He'd captioned it as a quaint little town with a sweet hotel and a big ghost story, hinting that more information would be coming. There were a few photographs of the Springer House and some of the mausoleum at the cemetery.

Polly picked up the phone and dialed, trying hard not to grin. It wasn't meddling if she had another reason for calling, was it?

"Boone County Sheriff."

"Anita Baker, please."

She waited a few moments and then, "This is Anita, how can I help you?"

"Hey Anita, this is Polly Giller."

"Hi there! Stu said you'd been at it again, but this time you got beat up a little. Are you okay?" Anita asked.

"I'm fine. No worries," Polly said. "Say, I was on Facebook looking at Jeremy Booten's page. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah. I started going through his social media stuff last week. Why?"

Polly had a thought and checked his list of friends. Sure enough. "Did you see that he was friends on there with Jim Bridger?"

Anita chuckled. "We hadn't put that together yet. But wasn't he like old as dirt? I can't even believe he's on Facebook."

"Words like that will get you into trouble," Polly said, scrolling through Mr. Bridger's page. There wasn't much there which probably meant he had his privacy set so she couldn't see it. It was interesting that his cover picture was of the solarium of the Springer House. There was no one in the windows. So weird.

"Polly?" Anita asked.

"Sorry. Got distracted." Polly closed the tab in her browser and then shut down the entire browser. "Anyway. Facebook is fairly timeless these days. If they have a computer, they're probably part of the global membership. Even old Mr. Bridger liked keeping up with his friends." Before she could stop herself, she asked, "Are you coming up for the masquerade ball on Saturday?" There. It was out.

"I wasn't planning to. I had a great time a couple of years ago, but it seems ridiculous to come up by myself and I don't want to put any effort into finding a date. I'll probably stay home, turn the lights off, lock the door and watch an old horror movie or something."

"That sounds awful," Polly said. "Don't do that to yourself. It's been a while since you've spent time in Bellingwood. It's gotten more interesting, you know."

"Aaron does have stories," Anita said with a laugh. "It sounds like you've been busy. The inn is finished, there's a new coffee shop in town. And always more dead bodies. Kinda impressive."

"Stop it. Come on, you have to come up. The haunted house in the foyer will be running before the ball and it's going to be great. Aaron's wife, Lydia, is setting that up and he'll be dressed as a scary monster. He was Frankenstein's monster a couple of times, but I'm not sure if he's doing that again."

"I don't know," Anita said. "Maybe I could get some of the people from work here to come up with me. It would be fun just to see that."

"Then I hope to see you Saturday."

"We'll see. I’m not making any promises."

"Okay," Polly said. "Is Aaron in this morning?"

"Sure. Polly, you should see him cringe when he sees your name come up on his Caller ID. We all know it's you. His face gets all screwed up and red, he starts running his hand through his hair and if he's sitting down, he leans back in the chair and then sits straight up before he answers. If there's more than one of us in a meeting with him, we all try to sign the ASL sign for "P" first. The first one to realize it and make the sign gets a free lunch that day."

"You guys are nuts," Polly said.

"Sometimes we do what we have to do for entertainment. Just a minute and I'll put you through."

Polly listened to the on-hold music and stopped humming when Aaron spoke. "Trying to fool me?" he asked.

"No, I wanted to talk to Anita before I harassed you for information."

He took a deep, loud breath. "Now, Polly..."

She interrupted him. "I know, I know. You can't give me any details pertinent to the investigation. Because I'm so untrustworthy and might blab everything you tell me to the whole wide world and then the killer will know that you're on to them and you won't be able to capture them without a lot of extra trouble."

"Wow," he said. "That's more than I was going to say."

"I have some questions. Will you answer them if you can?" she asked.

"Shoot."

"Bang."

"Funny girl," he said "What's your first question."

"Did Jeremy Booten's car careen off the road into that creek?"

"No."

"That's all you're going to say to me? No?"

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. "I answered your question. Wasn't that what I was supposed to do?"