The Loveliest Dead (45 page)

“The house is being searched,” Winningham said. “But I don’t think they’re going to find anything. Everything was down in the basement, including all of his photography and video equipment, his computer. Even his torture devices. You were right, Lily.”
 

“But we’re keeping that between us, right, Chief?” Lily said. She plucked a paper napkin from a stack on the table, used it to pick up a jelly donut, and took a big bite. She picked up another napkin and dabbed at her mouth.
 

Once she’d gotten back to the motel room the night before, Lily had gotten the first good night’s sleep she’d had in a while, uninterrupted by visions and mercifully free of nightmares. She’d awakened feeling famished and had eaten a big breakfast at Denny’s. But she still had room for the jelly donut. Her appetite had returned.
 

“Don’t worry,” Winningham had said. “I haven’t said a word to anyone.”

“Bullshit,” Lily said. “You’ve already started telling your story, haven’t you?”

Winningham smiled. “Only to cops, Lily, nobody else. You’ve got a lot of fans in uniform, you know.”

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about that.” She took another bite of her donut. She said nothing more until she’d finished it and wiped her mouth clean of jelly. She went to the coffeemaker on the counter, beside which stood a couple of short stacks of Styrofoam cups. Taking one, she poured some coffee. There were plastic spoons as well, a container of powdered nondairy creamer, and a box of sweetener. “I hope you’re not using the Kellars’s coffee,” she said.
 

“Of course not—the deputies brought their own,” Winningham said.

Claudia was already eating her second glazed donut.

Winningham walked over to one of the counters and leaned his hips against it, facing Lily with his arms folded across his barrel chest. “I just can’t believe it about Lenny,” he said, frowning. “I mean, he didn’t leave a clue anywhere. He was as clean as a whistle. At least, that’s what we thought.”
 

“That’s what he wanted you to think,” Lily said.

“And he did such a damned good job of it. Then he just kills himself. He must have known someone would find all that stuff eventually.”
 

“But he cleaned it up first,” Claudia said. “He put everything in the basement before checking out.”

“He didn’t destroy it,” Lily said, “but he made sure it was all put away.”

“I don’t know what happened to Lenny the last ten years,” Winningham said. “Maybe if I’d checked up on him once in a while ... maybe I would’ve seen something. Maybe I could’ve put a stop to it a lot sooner.”
 

“Maybes and ifs,” Lily said as she walked over to the breakfast nook again. “They don’t do anyone any good, Chief.” She looked out the window at the backyard, at the familiar swing set and the slide inside the tall fence, the ivy growing wild. “I suspect Leonard Baines was haunted by his victims for a long time before finally deciding to put a stop to it himself. The more he killed, the more there were to torment him. When he finally decided to end his life, that began the cycle that was going on in this house ever since.”
 

Standing beside Lily, Claudia said, “I wonder how long it would’ve gone on if no one had moved in here.”

“It might never have ended.” Lily turned to Winningham. “I suggest digging up the backyard, Chief. And the land around the house. I don’t think he went far to dispose of his victims.”
 

“That’s the next step. They start this afternoon. The FBI’s been alerted. I don’t suppose you have any more information about his victims, do you?”
 

“I’m afraid not. The visions have stopped.” She turned to him. “What’s the press being told?”

“Answering an attempted suicide call, Deputy Hooper inadvertently discovered the collection of porn in the basement. As far as the press is concerned, the Sheriff’s Department took it from there.”
 

“Well, it’s been a pleasure working with you, Chief,” Lily said as she went to Winningham and shook his hand, then gave him a business card. “If you’re ever in Mt. Shasta, drop by, and I’ll give you the police chief’s discount.”
 

“That’s real nice of you,” he said with a smile. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Lily. You, too, Claudia.”

“And please, Chief,” Lily said, “when you speak of me, be kind.” He chuckled as she-turned and walked out of the kitchen, saying, “Come on, Claudia, let’s go home. We’ve got a store to run.”
 

At the Gimble house, Jenna found Miles and Martha on the couch in the living room, watching television. Miles was still in his pajamas. His right cheek was swollen and bruised where he’d been hit. He’d become fast friends with Kimberly’s youngest, Ronny, who was in the shower. Ronny’s two older brothers had already gone out for the day. Kimberly and Harry were in the kitchen having a late breakfast.
 

Jenna hugged Martha, then Miles, and sat down between them. She put an arm around Miles and said, “Dad’s going to be okay. He was hurt pretty bad, but the doctor operated on him, and he’s going to be in the hospital for a few days. But he’s going to be okay. Isn’t that great?”
 

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Martha said.

Miles said nothing and did not take his eyes off the television.

“Miles, honey,” Jenna said, “did you hear me?”

Several seconds passed before he nodded once.

“Look, sweetheart, if you want to talk about what happened last night, or about anything else, please tell me, okay? It doesn’t have to be right now, it can be whenever you feel like it, but I want you to know that you can—”
 

Miles’s face suddenly screwed up, and tears sprang to his eyes. He hugged his knees to his chest and curled into a ball.

Jenna quickly embraced him. It was awkward, but she did not let go. “Oh, honey, go ahead and cry. But we’re safe now. You, me, Dad, Grandma—we’re all safe now.”
 

Miles cried for a while before lowering his knees and putting his arms around Jenna. “I thought he was dead.”

“So did I, honey, so did I. But he’s not—he’s going to be fine.”

“Buh-but he did that... buh-because of
me
. If I’d gone into the living room when you called me, he wouldn’ta had to do it.”
 

“You can’t think that way, Miles,” Jenna said. “If you think that way, you’ll make yourself sick” She whispered, “Dad hurt himself to keep the fat man from making him hurt you. And now Dad’s okay. So everything’s fine.” She pulled back and smiled.
 

Miles’s eyelashes were clumped with tears and his nose was running. He sniffled a few times to stop the dribbling, but finally gave up and wiped his nose with his pajama sleeve. “Was it God who saved Dad?” he asked. “Like Arty and Mavis said—about God chasing the demons out of the house. Was it God?”
 

“Well...” Jenna had not expected anything quite as heavy as that, and she thought for a few seconds before responding. “Do
you
believe it was God?”
 

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either, honey. But if you believe that, it’s okay. Don’t be afraid to say that you do. You should never be afraid to say
anything
to me or Dad.”
 

“Or Grandma,” Martha said.

“All right?” Jenna said.

Miles nodded.

“Whatever you choose to believe is just fine, Miles.” She put a hand on his head and ran her fingers through his curly hair. “You should believe in something. We all should believe in something.”
 

On Monday morning, Lily opened The Crystal Well with a smile on her face. She felt rested and uncharacteristically optomistic. She had gone to bed very early the night before and had slept deeply till morning.
 

Over a cup of coffee while waiting for Claudia to arrive, Lily looked at the front page of the
Redding Record Searchlight
. The headline read,
 

MASS GRAVE FOUND IN EUREKA;

REMAINS OF 9 BODIES SO FAR

Young bodies
, she thought.
Children. Babies.

According to the article, it would take months to identify the remains and notify the families so proper burials could be planned. The families of missing children throughout California and Oregon were asked to provide authorities with DNA samples for possible matches.
 

Lily knew it was only the beginning. They would find many more bodies. Once the media made the connections with the death of Arthur Bingham and the story of the truck-driving medium who was beaten up by a ghost in that same house, there would be a wave of rumor and speculation, especially in the tabloids. Reporters would no doubt press Jenna Kellar for interviews. Lily reminded herself to give Jenna a call once in a while to check up on her, and to suggest that she refuse to talk to the press no matter what. Nothing good could come of it. The story would be everywhere. Lily planned to avoid it.
 

The door opened and a short man in a long charcoal coat came in. He had frizzy gray hair and a large mustache. He came to the counter and smiled at Lily.
 

“Do you have anything on Bigfoot?” he asked.

Lily returned his smile and said, “Right this way.”