Ghost of a Gamble (Granny Apples Mystery) (11 page)

“I hadn’t, at least not when he was alive.” Milo remembered that Nemo had called him
little Milo
the night before and added, “Unless I met him as a kid and don’t remember. Growing up here, I certainly had heard the name.”

Garby was scribbling in his notebook. “So let me get this straight,” he said, looking at them all. “You’re saying the ghost of Nelson Morehouse came to you last night in a dream?”

“Not in a dream, Detective,” Emma responded. “But here, last night, while we were all awake. We had a lengthy conversation with him.”

“And you all saw and spoke to this ghost?” Foster asked, again giving all four of them a wide sweep with his eyes.

“Not all of us,” clarified Quinn. “Tracy and I cannot see or hear spirits, but we do believe he was here last night speaking with Milo and Emma.”

“That’s right,” confirmed Tracy, still peeved at the police.

“I was here, too,” said Granny, who didn’t like being left out.

Emma leaned forward and looked John Foster directly in the eye. “I don’t know why you’re so skeptical, Detective Foster. A lot of police departments call on psychics to help solve crimes when they’re stumped.”

Foster leaned back in his chair, considering that for a few seconds. “So what did Nemo have to say?” His question still held a lot of sarcasm, but with more restraint. “Did he mention Dolly’s visit?”

“Yes,” answered Milo, “but he said nothing about her killing him. He told us his people were holding her.”

The two detectives did a double take. “Ghosts of dead guys are holding your mother?” asked Garby, his voice laced with mockery.

“No, people who work for Nemo or know him are holding her,” Milo clarified. “He showed up here looking for another spirit—the ghost of a man he had killed years ago. He said that spirit had information he wanted, and if he didn’t get it, his people would kill my mother.”

Garby stepped forward, waving his notepad at Milo. “And you expect us to believe that bull?”

“No, we don’t.” Outrage was starting to build inside Emma, each sarcastic comment a building block to an explosion, but she did her best to keep it tamped down. “But whether you do or not doesn’t change the fact that they have Dolly and have threatened to kill her.”

Granny jumped up and down. “I know where she is. She’s still alive!”

The officer Garby had given orders to earlier returned. “That Kurtz woman did die last night,” he reported. “Heart attack. Family said she was ill with a bad cold or flu, and had a bad ticker.”

Milo hung his head in sadness. Tracy pulled him close and Emma patted his arm.

“Madeline was like an aunt to Milo,” Emma told the police, her brows knitted in challenge. “He’s lost her and possibly his mother in one day.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Foster in a low, serious voice. After a short pause, Foster cleared his throat. “And who is this other ghost? The one Morehouse was looking for?”

“His name,” Emma answered, “is Leonard Speidel. He was a friend of Dolly’s and had some dealings years ago with Nemo.”

At the name, Foster sat up straight. “Leonard Speidel? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Emma said. “Back in the sixties, Nemo’s goons killed Lenny before they got the information they were after. Now other men working for Nemo are holding Dolly until they get that same information.”

“Why now after all these years?” Foster asked.

“I really don’t know.”

“I don’t either,” Milo told them. “Dolly may be the only one who does.”

“I wonder if this has something to do with the Lucky Buck robbery,” said Foster, getting to his feet. He put his hands on his hips beneath his suit jacket and stared out the window lost in thought. His gun, tucked into a shoulder holster, could be clearly seen under the open jacket. “It was always believed that both Speidel and Morehouse pulled that off and that Morehouse killed Speidel afterward to shut him up. But nothing was ever proved, including Morehouse’s involvement in the heist itself.” He turned back around to face them, looking for more information.

“Nemo admitted to us last night that he had Lenny killed.” Emma held hope that Foster was coming around at last.

“Aren’t you a little young to remember that bank robbery?” Quinn asked Foster.

“Vegas history is a hobby of his,” said Garby, jerking his head in the direction of his partner. “Especially the gangster end of it.”

Granny was still fussing and fidgeting. Emma tried to give her a sign to hold on a minute. Admitting to Nemo’s presence was one thing, She didn’t want to tip her hand about Granny if she didn’t have to.

“The ghost of Lenny Speidel has been hanging around Dolly for a long time,” Emma told the police. “Possibly since his death. He expected Nemo to pull something.”

John Foster stared at her. “Was he here last night, too?”

“No,” answered Emma truthfully. “But he did show up at my hotel last night.” Now it was Milo and Tracy’s turn to be surprised. They looked at Emma with open mouths. “He was very disturbed. All I got out of him is that we’re all in danger from Nemo.”

“A dead guy?” asked Garby. “You’re all in danger from a dead man?”

“Yes.” Emma turned to Foster. “You know that game Dolly plays with Nicholas? The one about Lenny the Lightbulb?”

Foster said nothing, but nodded with caution.

“Leonard Speidel is Lenny the Lightbulb,” Emma explained. “He was haunting that light fixture in the kitchen and entertaining your son on the days Dolly cared for Nicholas. Your son saw the ghost.”

“My son?” Foster was in disbelief. “My son can see ghosts?” He didn’t seem pleased.

“It’s quite normal for children to see spirits when they are very young,” Milo quickly explained. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean they will be able to communicate with them later in life. Animals can usually see or sense spirits, too.”

Granny was waving at Emma with determination, even distracting Milo. Police or not, Emma decided it was time to see what Granny had to say.

“Do you mind,” Emma said to the cops, “if I visit the bathroom? It’s right down the hall.”

“No, Mrs. Whitecastle,” Garby told her. “Go right ahead, but don’t take forever.” Foster said nothing. He had gone into the kitchen and was staring up at the light fixture, no doubt considering Lenny’s attachment to his infant son.

A
S
soon as Emma entered the main bathroom off the hallway, Granny joined her. Emma used the toilet. “I really did need to go,” she explained to Granny in a voice barely above a whisper. “I had a gallon of coffee at breakfast.”

“Yeah, I know,” snapped Granny, “multitasking. Never even heard that term in my day.”

“So,” Emma asked, “where’s Dolly?”

“Some place in the desert.”

“This whole place is in the desert. Can you be more specific?”

Granny pouted. “You want my help or not?”

“Of course we want your help.” Emma washed her hands. “Do you have any idea where in the desert?”

“Not exactly. I was able to locate Dolly and pop in on her. She’s safe and seems okay except that she’s very fretful. They have her locked in a room, a tiny bedroom with a bed and TV and not much else. There’s a small window but it has bars on it.”

Looking in the mirror, Emma ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t slept well and looked a little pale in spite of her makeup. She wished she’d brought her purse into the bathroom so she could dab on a little more lipstick. Lipstick always improved everything. Too bad it couldn’t help her find Dolly. “Were you able to go outside at all?”

“Yep, and it’s desert, I tell ya. The building is small and isn’t a house exactly. It sort of is, but not a fixed building like your house.”

Emma gave that some thought and turned to the ghost. “Do you mean it’s a trailer or a mobile home?”

Granny looked puzzled, so Emma tried to give her a reference point. “Remember when my mother and I went to visit Mother’s friend Sarah? You came along.”

Granny nodded. “She had that teeny, tiny dog named Crackers.” Granny smiled. “I had fun with Crackers.” Granny loved playing with animals, especially dogs.

“Yes, that’s the one. Do you remember her house? It was long and set up a little high rather than set on the ground. It was also in a row with others like it in a park-like setting.”

Granny’s face brightened as she remembered. “Yes, like that one. Where Dolly is being kept is a lot like Sarah’s home but kind of run down.”

“That’s called a mobile home or trailer because they can be moved. They’re not fixed to the ground.”

“Yes,” Granny confirmed. “Like that, but it’s not in a nice place with a lot of others close by like Sarah’s. There are buildings like it around, but they’re not close together. More like scattered around the desert like they’ve been thrown down instead of parked neatly.”

“And you say it’s in wide-open desert? Not where there are a lot of other buildings?”

“There are other buildings, but nothing close to it. It’s in the real desert—open and dry and dangerous. But that’s all I know.”

A knock came on the door, followed by Detective Foster’s voice. “Mrs. Whitecastle, are you okay?”

“I’ll be right out,” Emma said to him through the door.

Emma glanced into the mirror again.

“You look just dandy,” Granny said, shaking her head. “You’re dealing with gangster ghosts, not entering some beauty pageant.”

Emma smiled into the mirror at the remark. She could always count on Granny to keep her focused. “You did great, Granny.” She turned to the ghost. “Very helpful. Thanks.”

The ghost smiled at the praise, then the smile faded. “A lot of good it will do if we don’t find Dolly soon. Especially if you can’t get any information out of Lenny.”

“We’ll do our best,” Emma assured her. “In the meantime, do you think you can go back and keep an eye on Dolly? And try to find out as much as you can about where she’s being held and who has her?”

“Sure. And one more thing,” Granny said as Emma put her hand on the doorknob to leave. “I think I saw that girl there.”

“What girl?” Emma asked, still keeping her voice barely audible.

“That Laura girl. You know the fortune-teller with the cute wagon.”

Emma took her hand off the knob. “Are you sure?”

“Not a hundred percent, but I think it was her. She was at that mobile house, too, but not in the same room.”

“Did she look like she was there on her own or being held like Dolly?”

“Not sure. She was sleeping when I saw her. At least, I think she was sleeping, but I know she wasn’t dead.”

“We’ll talk more later, Granny, as soon as the police leave. I need to bring you, Milo, and Tracy up-to-date on Lenny and on what Quinn found out.”

“Okay, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to Dolly now. I’d feel better sticking close to her just in case something happens.”

Emma opened the door, lost in thoughts of Laura and Dolly being held in a mobile home, and nearly ran into Detective Foster, who was lingering outside the bathroom door.

“Afraid I’d escape out the bathroom window, Detective?”

“Just checking out these wall photos in the hallway, Mrs. Whitecastle.”

“Please call me Emma. After all, I’m acquainted with your son and wife.” She smiled, trying to butter him up. They needed to start looking for Dolly and they needed him as an ally, not an enemy.

“Who were you talking to in there?” he asked, looking at her hands. “Were you on the phone?”

“Nope. I was talking to a ghost.” She answered with just enough bluntness to let him know she wasn’t teasing. “Who else?”

Foster gave her his full attention. “Lenny or Nemo?”

“Neither. Another spirit who is trying to help us find Dolly.”

Foster shook his head. “I honestly don’t know whether to believe you or not.”

“I’m used to that, trust me.”

“So did this other ghost find Dolly?”

“Yes and she’s alive, but the spirit isn’t sure exactly where she is. Spirits don’t see things and places like we do, Detective, but I’m pretty sure Dolly is being kept in a mobile home somewhere in open desert or at least someplace sparsely populated.”

“That could be anywhere in Nevada. We have both trailers and desert in large supply around here.”

“I’m afraid that’s all she was able to tell me, except that a person by the name of Laura Crawford is also there. She’s another fortune-teller on Fremont Street. Quinn can fill you in more about that.”

Emma started past Foster to move down the hall toward the living room, but he stopped her. He indicated an empty spot on the wall in the midst of the other framed photos. “Do you know what went here?”

“Yes, that’s where the photo with Jimmy Hoffa was hung before I removed it.”

“And do you know who this is?” He pointed to a photo of Dolly, not in costume, standing with a man. The man had his arm around Dolly, holding her close, and both were smiling.

Emma studied the photo, then answered, “Yes. I believe that’s Lenny Speidel.”

“Lenny Speidel.” Foster repeated, studying the photo. “Lenny the Lightbulb. My son’s playmate.” He shot Emma a wry smile.

“And here is another of him.” Emma pointed to another picture with just Lenny as the subject.

Foster turned to her. He was a bit taller than Emma but their faces were close. He was in her personal space, but she didn’t feel threatened. “You really did meet this Speidel guy, or rather his ghost, last night?”

“Yes,” was all Emma said, not moving back. She looked into his eyes and felt something, a thought or maybe a premonition, slim and delicate like a cobweb, pass over her brain. “He’s more to you than just an interesting piece of history, isn’t he?”

For a brief moment, Foster’s eyes darted away from Emma’s, then they returned. “My grandfather grew up here. I was always fascinated by the stories he and his brother would tell us about the heyday of Las Vegas when the Mob ran things and famous movie stars came here to play.”

“Famous people still come here to play,” Emma noted. “Even royalty.”

Foster scoffed. “Today we get spoiled rich kids, druggies, and gangsters disguised as musicians. Trailer trash in designer duds and fast cars with too much money.” He touched the photo of Lenny as if memorizing it through his fingertips. “When an opportunity came up to join the LVPD, I jumped at it and moved my family here.” He paused, then turned to her. “Tell me, Emma, are my wife and son in any danger?”

“Who would they be in danger from?”

The detective shrugged. “This ghost. Other ghosts. I don’t want them visiting Nicholas and frightening him, seeing as you claim he can see them. Suzanne is already upset by Dolly’s disappearance. Knowing about these ghosts would only disturb her more.”

Emma gave the question serious consideration, calling on her intuition for advice. “My gut tells me no, Detective. Lenny displays real affection for Nicholas and doesn’t appear to be a frightening or vindictive spirit. And we’re all upset by Dolly’s disappearance.”

After giving her words quick thought, Foster said, “Just to be safe, I’ll send Suzanne and Nicholas to her parents for a visit.” He gave Emma a crooked grin. “I’m still not sure I believe you, Emma Whitecastle, but I don’t take chances with my family.”