Christmas Spirit (The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer Book 1): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series) (7 page)

Chapter 12

I awoke early on Boxing Day, feeling refreshed, happy with the knowledge that it would be hours before the others awoke. After my second cup of coffee, I decided to check my email. I didn’t want to get back into work mode just yet, but I wanted to see if my manager had emailed me about bookings. The first email I saw totally took my mind off that. It was from Amanda Wayland.

Prudence,

A cop, Detective Kelly, came to see me the day before Christmas. He wanted to know if my brother had ever spoken about Jason Taylor or any of them. I told him he hadn’t said anything about it to me, but I’m not sure he believed me. I was wondering if you could see anything, or get some feelings, as to whether he’s going to come and question me again.

Amanda

I read the message a few times. So a detective had spoken with Amanda. It seemed odd because I was sure the police would have spoken with her well before now, and would have gotten all they needed from her. So if someone was asking her questions now, they might be looking to clear up loose ends.

“What’s wrong?” a disembodied voice asked me. “You seem worried.”

“Brady’s sister, Amanda, emailed me,” I said. “I was going to call her.”

“What did she say?”

“She said a detective went to see her, to ask her about the people that her brother was interviewing.”

“A detective? Did she give his name?”

I jabbed my finger at the screen. “Detective Kelly,” I said.

Alum shook his head. “Stanfield Kelly. That’s my dear old partner.”

I gasped. “The one who shot you?”

“The one and the same.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“I would say he’s dangerous,” Alum said to me, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I nodded. “I know. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Alum sighed, a long and rattling sigh. I thought it a bit odd considering he didn’t even need lungs.

“Do you think it’s okay to meet her and talk? If the police have been to ask her questions, then surely she must know something about her brother’s murder.”

“Yes that makes sense,” Alum said. “It could be something she thinks is insignificant, but it would be good if you could question her.”

“I won’t go to her house,” I said. “I can ask her to meet me somewhere.”

Alum nodded and looked at the floor. “I’m starting to feel bad that I got you involved.”

“No, it’s fine. I do want to help you,” I said.

“I know. I just want you to be careful,” he added.

I was uneasy. I had a bad feeling about it all. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but perhaps that’s exactly what I needed to be. Surely it was better if I thought everyone was more of a threat than they were. It would keep me from ending up like Alum.

Alum broke into my thoughts. “I do remember being shot by my partner, but I don’t remember what I had discovered that led to that. Was he only looking out for himself, or did he answer to someone? I think there’s a good chance he was on a gang’s payroll. At any rate, you need to stay far away from Stanfield Kelly. He’s not a homicidal maniac by any means, but he did shoot me because I found out something. It won’t do any good if he thinks you’re close to whatever it is, too.” Alum paused and held up one hand. “Of course, he might’ve shot me for a reason completely unrelated to the Brady Wayland case, but I won’t take any chances with your safety, Prudence.”

My stomach fluttered at his protectiveness. It seemed more than just a cop-civilian sentiment, but then I caught myself.
This guy is dead
, a small voice said inside my head. I shook myself. Aloud I said, “I need to speak with Amanda. I want to make sure she wasn’t keeping anything from me. If a dirty cop was poking around, maybe I should be doing the same.”

Alum frowned. “Don’t forget that Kelly would be doing normal cop stuff ninety-nine percent of the time, I’m sure. His visit to Amanda could well have been on legitimate business. I keep coming back to the fact that we don’t yet know if Wayland’s murder was related to my, err, death. It most likely was, but I can’t be sure.”

I shrugged. “I’ll call her now and see if she wants to meet for coffee.”

Amanda had proven quite keen to talk to me, and wanted me to meet her at eleven at a little café in her town.

If I was going to be there by eleven, I needed to hurry. I went to my bedroom to get changed and put on some perfume and makeup.

Alum was still in my living room when I walked out.

“You look lovely,” he said with an appraising smile. “That color blue really brings out your eyes.”

I smiled at him, while chanting,
He’s a ghost; he’s a ghost
, over and over in my head. Alum was the nicest man I had ever met, and he was dead.

“Be safe,” he said with a worried frown.

Chapter 13

I felt somewhat guilty leaving a note for my guests, but I did, with instructions as to where everything was for their breakfast. I wasn’t so worried about the house being destroyed now that Uncle Tim seemed to have Luke’s measure.

I found the café easily enough. It was dark and dismal, with hardly any patrons. It reminded me of her house when I’d first met with her. There were wide windows at the front, but I supposed that the black and dark-crimson walls had sucked all the light from the room. The orange booths did nothing to add to the ambience. It was an entirely uninviting place. At least the smell of coffee was welcoming, although it was all but overtaken by the smell of fried food.

Amanda was in a booth near the back, already nursing a steaming cup of coffee. I went to her and sat, and before I had even opened my mouth, a waitress appeared to take my order.

“A soy latté, please,” I said.

“With milk?” she asked.

I raised my eyebrows. “Um, no. A soy latté, please.”

The young woman left. I figured it must be her first day on the job. I turned to Amanda.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” she said. “I just thought you should know that the cops came to see me. I didn’t know who else you had been talking to. I wanted to make sure the detective questioning me didn’t have anything to do with you.”

“No, not at all,” I said hurriedly. “I haven’t spoken to the police.”

Amanda peered at me, and then shrugged. “No one believes me, but I know my brother didn’t kill himself.”

I nodded. “Are you sure you don’t know any more than you already told me?”

“Yes, of course. Why would you say that?” Her tone was defensive. Before I had a chance to answer, she handed me a white business card. It featured the green New South Wales police logo, and had the name of Detective Stanfield Kelly, along with two phone numbers. No doubt the landline was the police station number, and the other, his cell phone number. I took the card.

“Can you get a reading from it?” She leaned forward, her expression eager.

I shook my head. “Like I told you last time, I can’t do psychometry. I only get feelings from deceased people, not from inanimate objects.”

“But you wanted to go to my brother’s cabin to see if you could pick up vibes there,” she protested.

“That was in the hope that your brother would come through. I can get a general sense, such as past emotions from a place, but I can’t get readings from objects.”

Still, I tried. I closed my eyes and held the card loosely between my forefinger and thumb. I could sense something from it, but nothing that jumped out at me. No sense of danger, or foreboding. Finally I opened my eyes and shook my head.

“Nothing?” Amanda said, disappointed.

“Nothing clear,” I said.

“What do you mean nothing clear? Was there something? Does he know something?” her tone was urgent.

That seemed like a strange question to me. I shook my head. “I can’t tell. Nothing comes to the forefront. There’s just a bit of noise. Not real noise, of course, more mental noise. It’s not a clear message. It usually isn’t, but sometimes there’s something louder than the rest of the noise. But with this, there isn’t.”

Right then the waitress returned with a latté for me. I cautiously took a sip. Thankfully, it was soy, after all. It was, however, lukewarm and very weak.

I didn’t suspect Amanda of willfully lying to me. However, I thought she might be scared and thus holding onto some information that she thought was going to get her hurt, or worse. And if the man who had killed Alum was asking her questions, there was probably a reason. I tried once more. “Do you know anything? Anything at all that the people involved wouldn’t want you to know?”

Amanda shook her head. “No, I’ve told you.” She wrung her hands.

“Then you’re fine,” I said. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“But my brother was killed by these people, wasn’t he? He was talking with them. If anyone thinks I know what he knew, I could be in danger. I’m taking comfort from the fact that the detective came to see me. They must think it wasn’t suicide, surely, or why bother to ask me questions?”

I shrugged.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get any vibes from the cabin,” she continued. “You didn’t, did you?”

I sighed. “Amanda, I don’t get vibes, as you put it. Sometimes I might, but that’s uncommon. I connect with spirits, people who have passed on. I’m not a general psychic. I’m a clairvoyant medium.”

It was Amanda’s turn to shrug. I had long since learned that people had no idea about the difference—they lumped all of us into the same category. “I can’t stand going to the cabin now,” she said, “despite the fact I do have some good memories.”

“Sometimes that’s all we have left of the people we love,” I said softly. “You just have to hold those memories close to you.”

Amanda nodded, but her face was devoid of emotion. “It’s not like that for you, though, is it? You’ll always have more. You can talk to the dead.”

“I can’t talk with them,” I corrected her, even though I now knew I could see and speak with Alum. “I just sense them.”

“Still, if you lose someone, it’s not as terrible for you.”

I shook my head. “Spirits of the deceased choose whether or not to come through to speak to me. It’s not like I have a direct link to the other side. I can’t speak to anyone at will. It’s never my choice or my decision.”

“So have you felt my brother?” Amanda asked. “Sensed him?”

“At the cabin, I think I did.”

Amanda leaned forward. “I thought you said he didn’t speak to you there?”

I was getting tired of the questions. I had gone to the café to question Amanda, but she was the one questioning me. “No, Amanda, your brother didn’t speak to me,” I said firmly. “All I got was a general sense of his presence. He seemed angry, I think.”

Amanda frowned and pursed her lips. It seemed to me that she was searching my face for a lie.

Without warning, I felt the presence of a spirit. Waves of betrayal and anger washed over me. I reached out, but the spirit did not quite come through. Sometimes I received impressions from spirits like this, and they were difficult. One sentence came through:
Things are not as they seem
. And as quickly as he had come, he left.

I knew it was Wayland. I had rarely encountered the spirits of those who had been murdered—apart from Alum, of course, but he was entirely different—and generally, murdered spirits were difficult to reach. Wayland, however, was more difficult than those previously. In the short time he appeared, I had sensed betrayal, hurt, and anger.

Amanda leaned forward. “You felt something, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “It was just a flash, a strong sense. It was your brother.”

Her mouth fell open. “What did he say?” she asked urgently.

“I just had flashes from him—feelings, anger mainly, and betrayal. He was murdered, for sure.” I looked at her to see how she would react. I didn’t want to upset her.

Amanda’s face was hard to read. She spun her coffee cup around a few times before speaking. “And that’s all?”

I nodded.

“I think the police must know he was murdered, too,” she said. “The cop was mean, though, asking me the same thing over and over again, like I knew something.”

“Look, Amanda, if I can speak frankly,” I said, “are you sure that you don’t know anything else? If your brother was murdered, then I’m worried that you might be in danger, too, though you would only be in danger if you knew something,” I added.

“I seriously don’t know anything,” she said rather crossly. “Why do you keep asking me if I do?”

I shrugged. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. If you don’t know anything, it will all be fine. It sounds as if the police have found evidence that your brother was murdered, so they’re interviewing everyone. They must realize now that it wasn’t a suicide.”

She nodded and looked away.

I finished my coffee. “I should get back,” I said. “I’ve got a house full of guests.” I was unable to suppress a shudder at the thought of Luke.

I stood up and put money on the bill, just as Amanda reached out and caught my arm. “You’re not going to quit until you figure this all out, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not,” I promised her.

I drove back home, but took a detour to the grocery store to buy more wine for Christina. I didn’t want to enable her, but she herself would drive to get it, and she shouldn’t drive in her state. I bought a chocolate bar and six bottles of low alcohol wine.

When I walked back to my car, Alum was leaning on the trunk. I smiled, not daring to speak. If I spoke to thin air it would be all around town before nightfall. He materialized next to me after I got into the car. “How did it go?” Alum asked. “It’s hard when I can’t speak to you at your house. And
six
bottles of wine? Have they driven you to drink?”

“Well, yes,” I said, turning the key in the ignition, “but this is for Christina.” I turned off the engine. “I’d better fill you in before I get home. I just have to eat this first. I’m ravenous.” I took a large bite of the chocolate bar.

Alum looked on longingly.

“Oh, is this rude?” I said. “I’m sorry. You don’t eat.”

“I don’t need to, but it’s something I miss,” Alum said. “Maybe it will be different when I go on, instead of sticking around here.”

The thought of him going filled me with sadness. I had grown accustomed to his company. “I can stop,” I said, folding the wrapper back over it.

“No, don’t let me stop you. Just don’t mind if I stare at it,” he said.

I laughed, and quickly filled him in on the time with Amanda.

“So things aren’t what they seem?” Alum asked me.

I nodded. “That’s basically what I got. What do you think it means?”

Alum held up his hands. “Hey, you’re the expert when it comes to things like that,” he said. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

I took a small bite of the chocolate bar, and chewed it quickly. “But you’re the expert when it comes to solving murders.”

“It’s not much to go on,” Alum said, “and I’m not used to taking words a clairvoyant gets from dead people as evidence, so I’m not sure what I think, or what it all means. At least not yet.”

“I think Amanda will be fine, but I’m not so sure she’s telling me the whole truth, especially after getting that reading.”

Alum nodded. “We might be able to turn you into a detective yet.”

I paused with the chocolate bar halfway to my mouth. “That’s the last thing I want,” I said. “This is too much craziness for me.”

“You talk to dead people. How could this be too much craziness?”

“I talk to one dead person. You’re the only one I see and talk to.”

Alum grinned. “You know what I meant.”

“Why do you think your old partner was talking to her?”

“Same reason you just went to her,” Alum said. “To see if she knows anything. I have to say that if you aren’t convinced, he probably won’t be. Stanfield is a pretty good cop. Well, he was, up until the point he shot me.”

Alum spoke with an unmistakable note of bitterness in his voice. I could tell he had at one time really trusted and liked his partner, but Stanfield Kelly had betrayed his trust, more so than anyone would ever think their friend could. Being murdered was a horrific thing, but being killed by a friend brought with it a whole different level of horror.

“Listen, I’m your partner now,” I said, trying to make him feel a little better, or at least as good as I could make a ghost feel. “We can do this together. I know you’ll help me, and I’ll help you. That’s my promise to you. We can do this, but we can only do it together. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Alum said. His face was set in a scowl, as though he was thinking of something very unpleasant.

“What’s that all face about?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re acting weird,” I told him.

“I’m a phantom,” he said. “A ghost. I’m allowed to act weird, don’t you think? You take all of this too calmly,” he said with a grin.

I was relieved to see him smile again. “You aren’t the first ghost I’ve known,” I said, smiling too. “You’re the first I can see and really talk to, but not the first I’ve sensed. This is old news for me.”

“Well, it’s all really new for me, so cut me a break, will you? I promise; we’ll do this together. I know I can trust you. I
do
trust you. You’re my only hope. I’m here, stuck here, because I can’t let this go. You’re the only person I can trust to help me.”

“Just make sure you don’t forget that,” I said. “You really can trust me. I don’t have anything to gain, but I do have a lot to lose. Treat me like a partner?”

“You got it, partner,” Alum said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I can’t look at that chocolate bar any longer. It’s kind of like seeing an old girlfriend.”

I smiled, but then Alum was gone. I was left to wonder why his mood had suddenly changed, and why it had changed so drastically. I wondered if he too knew something I didn’t. If so, that would make far too many people in my life who knew what was going on, while leaving me in the dark.