Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel) (23 page)

“Feed the
chain?” Lee asked with distaste. For the first time she realized there was more
than one chain attached to this building.

Masterson
smiled. “Look over here.”

He moved over
to the bark pile where a guard rail surrounded what looked like a conveyor belt
that ran along the floor. It was actually a large-linked chain that sat in a
shallow trough. The chain emerged from the center of the bark pile, picking up
bark as it came, and moved across the floor.

“This is what’s
called a drag chain, and if you watch, you’ll see how the big flights pick up
the bark.”

“Flights?”

“Those pieces
of steel attached horizontally to the chain. They’re indented slightly, so
they’re like shallow cups. They hold the bark until the chain drops into that
hole.”

He turned and
pointed across the floor to his left. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

They followed
the guard rail that surrounded the length of the chain, either to protect it,
or to protect people from getting caught
in
it. The railing ran two-thirds
the length of the building, until it ended at a small, two foot square opening
in the floor. Lee’s gaze followed the chain where it emerged from the bark pile,
until it dropped out of sight into the black hole.

“Where does it
go?”

“The chain drops
down, circles around and exits at the back of the building, where it loops
around a spool and comes back in underneath the bark pile again.”

She peered over
the guardrail in order to get a better view of where the chain disappeared into
the floor.

“What happens
down there,” she asked.

“When the chain
drops down, the bark falls onto the boiler room chain, which runs underground
to the next building. That’s where the bark is deposited into the boilers.”

Lee glanced to
the roofline again. “So, one chain drops the bark in, another other moves it,
and a third takes it out?”

“That’s right.”

“Amazing,” she
said, thinking of how efficient everything was.

“Well, I’d hate
to get caught in that,” Rupert said lightly, gazing into the hole in the floor.

“God, no
kidding,” Lee agreed.

Masterson
smiled. “Yes. It wouldn’t be good. Mainly because you wouldn’t fit very well.”

“I’ve never
seen so many moving parts in my life,” Lee quipped. “This whole place is like
an accident waiting to happen.

Masterson
shrugged. “Actually, we have very few accidents.”

“Yeah, but when
you do, I bet it’s a whopper,” Rupert whistled.

Just then, a
loud beeping noise filled the room. Masterson took Lee by the elbow. “C’mon, we
need to move.”

They quickly
circled around the end of the guard rail and went up a short flight of stairs.
A moment later, the sound of metal wheels forced Lee to look up. The rake
carriage began to move along two metal tracks in the direction of the bark
pile. As the platform moved, the crane moved with it, its big scoop bucket
reaching out at an angle toward the pile. The bucket slid across the bark pile,
depositing bark onto the chain.

Masterson indicated
that it was time to leave and led them out the door. Lee couldn’t help a
fleeting look back at the feed chain and shuddered. They crossed the expansive
yard once again just as a giant skip loader picked up six big logs with huge,
crab-like claws. It whirled around with amazing speed and disappeared behind a
building, making Lee feel vulnerable everywhere she moved.

“Do you want to
see anything else?” she asked Rupert, hoping to God that he wouldn’t.

Rupert shook
his head, pushing his glasses into place. “I don’t think so.”

The three
returned to the office, where they removed their helmets.

“Any questions?”
Masterson asked taking the helmets and putting them back on the shelf.

“No,” Lee said,
running her fingers through her hair. “Thanks for your time.” She turned to
Rupert. “So, where do you want to set up tonight?”

He rubbed his
beard. “Probably that filing room. The one with the saw blades. I can do a lot
with the blades in the background, and since it’s a motion-free room, it won’t
affect the camera.”

“That’s a good
choice,” Masterson confirmed. “I’ll let them know at the front gate.” He turned
to make himself a note. “Now, remember, you’ll be going across the yard to the
South Mill. I’ll let the night manager know to be on the lookout for you.”

“Thanks,”
Rupert said as he started out the doorway.

“Also,”
Masterson stopped him, “this back gate will be closed. You’ll need to come
through the front gate, off Main Street.”

The two thanked
him and left. Outside, Rupert said goodbye and walked off to his truck with a
wave of his hand. As Lee drove slowly out of the yard, she realized she didn’t
relish the thought of coming back at night. The plant was a huge monstrosity
that seemed poised and ready to devour her at any moment, leaving her with an
inexplicable feeling of danger. And she thought she’d had enough of that
lately.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

It was
three-thirty that afternoon when Lee arrived home. She had tried calling Carey
twice from the car, but no one answered, and Lee was too cautious to leave a
message about the lab report she hoped to find. Carey would be her only hope of
getting back into the condo to find it. A leisurely shower and a nap were top
on her agenda now, but she found Jenny coming up the walk carrying a bulky
cardboard box.

“Hi,” Jenny
greeted her brightly. “We got busy and boxed up Diane’s stuff. I thought I’d
drop it off before I ran to the bank for the deposit.”

“Come on in.” Lee
unlocked the door and they stepped inside. “Just put it over there.” She
gestured to the corner of the entryway where Jenny dropped the open box next to
a plant stand.

“How are you
doing?” Jenny asked, turning to Lee.

“Fine,” she
said, knowing her voice carried all the enthusiasm of a dead fish. “I just got
back from the tour with Rupert.”

Jenny’s face
brightened. “How’d it go?”

“That place is amazing.
Scary, but amazing.”

“My
brother-in-law worked for McKenzie Mills a while back. He used to cringe
whenever the phone rang at night because it usually meant there’d been an
accident.”

“Yes,” Lee
agreed. “It’s a bit intimidating. Anyway, where are you off to tonight?” she
asked, trying to be casual.

“I’m going
bowling with Jim. He’s trying to get me to join a league.”

“Oh, right, the
new boyfriend. Somehow, I can’t see you bowling.”

“Well, he
practices every Friday night like clockwork, so he can bowl Thursday nights
with the league. If I want to see him on Fridays, I go bowling. I’m not sure
it’s how I want to spend the rest of my life, but I’m willing to give it a
chance.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d better get going. I still have to go to the
bank and run an errand for Marie.” She started for the door.

“Jenny, hold
on.” Lee reached over and fumbled around inside her purse for the envelope with
the suicide note. “Just out of curiosity, does this look like something Diane
would have written?”

Jenny studied
the note and her blue eyes clouded over. “It’s the suicide note.”

“Yes. Read it
and tell me if you… well, if you see anything wrong with it.”

Jenny’s eyes
skimmed the note. “There are a couple of mistakes. Plus…” she scraped her fingernail
over the copy on the paper. “Unless Diane bought a new printer, she didn’t
print this at home.” She handed the note back to Lee.

“What do you
mean?”

“It’s printed
on an ink jet printer. Diane didn’t have one.”

Lee looked at
the document. “How do you know what kind of printer it’s been printed on?”

“Diane had a
laser printer, which lays the ink on top of the paper. You can actually scrape
it off.”

She stuck her
finger out for Lee to see. It was clean.

“This has been
printed on an ink jet printer. The paper absorbs the ink. It’s more
professional. That’s why Diane used to bring important things to the office to
print. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Hey, by the way,
doesn’t Diane’s brother-in-law bowl?”

Jenny paused on
the bottom step. “I think he’s in the same league with Jim. Diane talked about
him once and what a jerk he was. Why?”

“Would you do
me a favor?  Ask Jim tonight if Vern Mathews bowled last Thursday.”

“Sure. I’ll see
if I can find out.”

“Thanks. I’ll
see you next week.”

Jenny sauntered
down the walk as Lee closed the door focused on one thought. The suicide note
hadn’t been printed on Diane’s printer.

At 8:45, Lee
grabbed the jar of popcorn and a pan to get ready for Marion, who had called to
say she was running late. Soldier lay next to the kitchen table, watching Lee’s
every move. Lee had finally left an innocuous message for Carey about the lab
report and jumped when the phone rang, thinking it might be her.

“Hi, Mom. I’ve
got good news.”

Lee gently
shook the pan as the oil crackled inside. “Is it about Soldier?” she asked.

“No, it isn’t
about Soldier, but I’m working on that.”

Lee frowned. “What’s
the good news then?”

“This apartment
is working out really well, and we’re signing a one-year lease tomorrow.”

Lee stopped shaking
the pan. “A one-year lease?  I thought you were coming home for the summer.”

“If we want
this apartment, they want us to sign a year’s lease. That’s pretty standard,
you know.”

Lee cringed. Her
daughter didn’t know the first thing about leases. She could hardly negotiate a
turn. Lee pictured some middle-aged man with a cigar tapping the lease document
with a stubby finger and saying,
“Yep, one year. That’s the standard. Gotta
have it
.”

“And I’ve
applied for a job at a pizza place in town,” Amy continued. “They don’t want to
hire anyone who isn’t planning on being here through summer break.”

This time, Lee
pictured Amy in some goofy-looking mini-skirt with a matching pizza hat,
delivering bubbling hot pizza to a bunch of drooling fraternity boys. The popcorn
started to smoke, and Lee quickly pulled it off the burner, turning her nose up
at a cloud of acrid smoke that now filled the kitchen.

“Shit!”

“Mom, I need a
place to live, and I’m only forty minutes away. It’s not like you’ll never see
me again.”

“That wasn’t
directed at you. I just burned the popcorn. Just a minute,” she snapped.

She put down
the phone and dumped the blackened kernels into the trash can, before waving a
towel in the air to dissipate the smoke. She put the pot back on a cold burner.
With resignation, she took the phone and went to sit at the table. The dog took
the cue to move over next to her. “Amy, I just don’t want you making snap
decisions. If you sign a lease, you’re stuck. Can you be sure Maddie will be
there all summer, too?”

“Maddie already
has a job at the university bookstore that runs through the summer. It’ll be
okay, Mom. Trust me.”

How many times
had she heard that phrase?  The last time was when Amy had just rescued an
orphaned German Shepherd. Lee sighed and patted the dog on the head. Her
daughter was pulling away and it hurt.

“What kind of
deposit do they want?”

“They want
first and last month’s rent and a $100 cleaning deposit. That’s pretty standard,
too. I’ll need about $600.”

Lee merely
grunted. “Okay. I’m good for it. You can tell them you’ll pick it up this weekend
when you pick up the dog.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll
be home around noon on Sunday.”

“Not Saturday?”

“Well, there’s
a big party up here Saturday night with some of the kids in the Education
Department. I’ll be home Sunday.”

“Then you’re
here for only half a day.”

“Mom!” Amy
whined, and Lee knew she was holding on too tightly.

“Okay,” she cut
off the complaint with a raised voice. “See you Sunday. Just make sure you come
with a leash.”

They hung up,
and Lee went back to the stove to finish the popcorn. A few minutes later, she
had a large bowl filled with plain popcorn and was starting on the butter when
the phone rang again. She answered it with a cube of butter cupped in her hand.

“Hey,”
Patrick’s voice greeted her. “I’m sorry about what happened at breakfast this
morning.”

After Amy’s
phone call, Lee was hardly in the mood to deal with her brother. “Don’t worry
about it.”

“Well, I
thought I’d bring some stuff over after rehearsal tonight. Maybe we could talk
then. I’d like to help.”

“I won’t be
here. I have to work.”

“What are you
doing on a Friday night?”

“We’re doing a
photo shoot at Green Valley Lumber Company.”

“So, no date.”

“Patrick! I
have to go.”

“What time is the
photo shoot scheduled?”

She became
impatient. “Not until eleven o’clock, so I’ll be there late. Marion is coming
over in a few minutes to help me work out some things. So, come on over, and we
can catch up tomorrow.”

She hung up and
took a deep breath. She took the wrapping off the butter before placing it into
a small pan. As it began to melt, she thought about Patrick with a twinge of
remorse. Patrick, the habitual peacemaker, would probably follow her to the sawmill.
Oh well, so be it. She knew she was being overly sensitive, but she’d had a lot
to deal with lately. She’d apologize to him later.

The doorbell
rang, interrupting her thoughts. Lee turned off the burner and placed the large
bowl of popcorn on the counter, pointing a finger at the dog.

“Don’t even
think about it.”

Marion was at
the door with one arm wrapped awkwardly around an easel and the other clutching
a bottle of wine. A large erase board leaned up against the door.

“Sorry I’m
late, but I brought props.”

“I can see that.
Here, let me help you.”

Lee grabbed the
white board and wine and stepped back to let her inside. Marion set the easel
up in the living room, while Lee hung her coat in the closet.

“I’m just
finishing the popcorn. Come into the kitchen.”

“Smells like
charcoal,” her friend teased.

They entered
the kitchen to find Soldier guarding the snack bowl.

“When did you
get a dog?”

“I didn’t. She’s
leaving this weekend as soon as Amy finds her a home.”

Lee went to the
stove, while Marion sat at the table. Soldier abandoned the popcorn to greet
the new visitor. Marion stroked her head, while her tail fanned the room in
appreciation.

“She’s charming.
You should keep her. You could use some companionship now that Amy’s gone. And
some protection,” she emphasized with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think
so,” Lee answered. She relit the stove and played with the melting butter. “I’m
not really a dog person anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“I had a dog
once, a long time ago. I’m not really in a position to take care of an animal right
now.”

“Nonsense. You
just said good-bye to a teenager. What’s the difference?  In fact, a dog would
be easier. They don’t talk back.”

Lee crossed to
the counter to pour the butter over the popcorn just as the phone rang. Lee
asked Marion to get it.

“It’s someone
named Jenny,” she said.

“Could you just
take a message,” Lee asked.

While Marion
wrote a note, Lee opened a cupboard to find the cheese stuff she had promised
earlier that day. She grabbed an orange colored bottle the size of a small
saltshaker and sprinkled it over the popcorn and then stirred it up. Then, she
pulled two wineglasses out of a cupboard and asked Marion, “How are you at
opening wine bottles?”

“Great, given
the right tools, which I have right here,” Marion said, handing Lee the note
she’d written. She reached into the large square pocket of her brightly quilted
jacket and pulled out a bottle opener. With a little twist of her wrist, the
cork popped. “There, you see?” she said as she grabbed the glasses from Lee. “Shall
we?”

Lee reached for
two bowls and the popcorn and they headed for the living room.

Lee was
beginning to feel energized, as if she were within reach of the finish line of
an important race. By the end of the evening, she hoped they would be able to
put the final piece of the puzzle in place. Then, she could go to the police.

She placed the
popcorn on the coffee table and began to fill the bowls, while Marion poured
the wine.

“I’d better get
some napkins,” Lee said, starting back to the kitchen.

“Do you have a
marking pen?”

“Yeah, I’ll get
it.”

Lee ducked into
her study to find the marking pen and wrinkled her nose at the smell of burnt
popcorn. She pulled up the sash window that looked onto the back porch to let
in fresh air, and then rummaged through a desk drawer to find a thick black
marking pen. When she returned to the living room, Marion had placed the erase
board horizontally on the easel. She looked up when Lee came back.

“Well, aren’t
we professional?” she quipped.

“Hardly,”
Marion laughed as she stepped up to the board. “Did you find a pen?”

Lee handed her
the marking pen, and Marion drew a line across the top from left to right.
Above it she wrote the headings, “Facts, Suspicions, and Research.” She drew a
vertical line down the left side of the board.

“How’s that
look?”

Lee sat
cross-legged on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “It’s as good a place
to begin as any. Let’s begin with facts.”

Marion lifted
her glass of wine off the table and took a sip. “Okay, let’s start with Diane. Tell
me what you know about Diane that’s significant.”

Marion stood
poised and ready to write. Lee considered for a moment and then began.

“Well, Diane
was an absolute perfectionist, to a fault. That’s a fact.”

Marion looked
at her with eyebrows raised.

“Believe me,
it’s pertinent. Just put it down.”

Lee also instructed
Marion to add the typos in the suicide note and all the information about the
diabetic cat, insulin, and syringes. Lastly, she had Marion add a column called
Crime Scene.

With her wine glass in one hand
and pen in the other, Marion finished writing all of the facts on the board and
then began to sit down when Lee stopped her.

“Wait!  Put ‘vase’
under Suspicion in the crime scene row. Something fishy happened with the vase
that Diane usually kept on her coffee table. It was there earlier that evening
and gone when Amy and I found the body.”

Marion complied.
When she finished, she perched on the arm of a chair and took a swig of wine. “Did
you find anything of consequence when you were there the other day?”

“I found a lab
report.”