Chasing Shadows Page 6

  “Oh my God, Larry, do you see that? Is that a man standing in that corner?”

  The camera swung wildly before Larry got hold of his nerves and took a deep breath. Cam turned back to the camera with a wide-eyed innocent expression, with a slight tremor in her voice. “He’s gone now, but he was there. He had a hat on, with the bill pulled down low over his face, like one of those old gangsters you see in the late-night movies. You saw that, right?”

  Larry nodded. “I did. He was right over there. Did he…did he say anything?”

  “No. He just stared at us, and then he disappeared. I think we should do a session.” She pulled out her recorder and switched it on. “I’m talking to the gentleman I just saw in this room. Did you die here?” she paused for a moment and then continued. “What’s your name? Do you have a message for us? Please talk to us.”

  After another moment she switched it off and played it back. Nothing, except for some static in a few places. She turned back to Larry, ready to express disappointment that the ghost didn’t want to talk, but instead she found him wide-eyed and staring at her. “He said ‘get out.’ Did you hear that?”

  Ha! This is awesome. Cam nodded sagely, keeping her voice low. “Yes, I most certainly did.”

  “You have a real gift for this,” Larry said, sounding amazed. “Wait until Zack hears and sees this evidence. You’ll be on the show for sure.”

  Smiling to herself, Cam turned her back on the camera, and slowly proceeded to the end of the hallway.

  ****

  “...so after that, I didn’t think much would come of it. I went back to Santa Monica and my tedious job in the claims department. The only upshot of the trip was that, by the time we got home, Wanda and I had stopped speaking to each other. So much so, that she requested a change of cubicle the first day back at work. Then, about a week after the episode aired, I got a call from the producers of Ghost Seekers saying that they were planning a new show and wanted to know if I was interested in joining the cast. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Jennifer sat opened mouthed on the floor staring up at Cam, who was clearing off the last of the books from the shelf by the front window. Cam dropped a cookbook into one of the cardboard boxes that now filled the living room.

  “Hundred percent serious.”

  “And the people you work for, they haven’t caught on that you’re just putting on with all the ghost stuff? Like—no offense—they don’t know that you’re a fake?”

  “None taken.” Cam shrugged. “And it’s TV. Very few things are real. I just give the people what they want and everyone’s happy. As a matter of fact, we’re just about to wrap up filming our fifth season.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jennifer repeated.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s….” Jennifer seemed to be at a loss for words as she slowly wrapped a porcelain owl in newspaper. “I don’t know what to even call that,” she said finally, placing the owl into the box that sat to her left.

  “It’s a living,” Cam turned her lips up into a grin. “And it pays much better than medical claims.”

  “Ha, I bet it does.” Jennifer picked up another owl from the collection of figurines that stood in formation on the floor next to her leg, then reached into the pile of torn newspapers to pick out a fresh sheet. She began to wrap the small figure and then paused, frowning. “But surely I can’t be the only one who’s asked about the sudden onset of paranormal talent?”

  Cam placed the last book into the box and stretched to grab the roll of packing tape that sat on a nearby chair. “Believe it or not,” she said, “you are. I told my parents about it, of course. They weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect. My mother is the one who suggested the stage name, as a matter of fact.” Cam sealed the box with a long piece of tape. “I was still dating Laura back then and she—”

  Cam paused and bit her lip. Her sexual orientation was not generally a topic that Cam discussed openly. Her friends knew, of course, as did several members of the production crew, but the Chasing Shadows producers had suggested early on that she “not make a big deal about it” for the sake of ratings. Although she regretted it from time to time, Cam had gone along with the suggestion.

  She stole a quick glance at Jennifer, who had continued to wrap the throng of porcelain figurines that Loralyn had collected over the years, seemingly unfazed by the comment.

  “Is that the Laura who posts all those cat memes to your Facebook page?” Jennifer asked, not looking up.

  “Um, yeah, that’s the one.”

  Jennifer nodded and picked up another owl. “I can see why you’re not together any more. She doesn’t strike me as your type.”

  Pleasantly surprised that Jennifer’s attitude was more forward thinking than she’d imagined it would be for someone who’d lived her entire life in small town Alabama, Cam decided against inquiring what her high school friend thought her “type” would be. That’s a question for another day...

  Cam tossed the packing tape back on the chair and stood beside the box, staring down at Jennifer as she spoke. “Um, yeah. And Loralyn knew about the show, but never really said anything about it. Which doesn’t surprise me. She doesn’t…didn’t own a television, you know.”

  “Seriously?” Jennifer looked around the room. “I can’t imagine such a thing.”

  “I know, right? But to answer your original question, no one’s ever really questioned how I do the things I do on the show.”

  “Still unbelievable.” Jennifer placed the final figurine into the box and stood, dusting off the back of her shorts as she did so. “That’s the last of the knick-knacks,” she said, collecting the tape from the chair and returning with it to seal the box she’d been packing. “And if you’re through with the books, that should be everything in the living room.”

  “Thank you so much for your help. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

  “Sure you could’ve, but don’t worry about it.” She finished taping up the box and turned to face Cam, a smile on her face. “It really was good to see you again.”

  “Oh, don’t feel that you have to rush off. You’re welcome to just stay and hang out.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “I appreciate it, but it’s getting late, and I really should be moving on now.”

  “I understand, but promise that you’ll come visit again? I’ll probably be in town for at least another week or so. Are you free tomorrow? Maybe we can do lunch?” Cam asked, hoping that she didn’t sound too desperate. It had been good to spend time with an old friend and Cam was loathe to return to the complete quiet of Loralyn’s house.

  “Well, I…”

  “C’mon, don’t make a girl beg.” Okay, she thought. That did sound desperate.

  “All right,” Jennifer laughed, picking up her purse from the edge of the couch. “I’m due back at work tomorrow, so let me check my schedule and I’ll call you to set something up.”

  “Wonderful,” Cam grinned. She made to move away from the box. “Here, I’ll walk you out.”

  “No,” Jennifer waved her off, “you need to take it easy. I can see myself to the door.”

  “Okay…and Jennifer?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for being here for me.”

  Jennifer smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. That’s what friends are for, remember?”

  Chapter Six

  One of the perks —and there were many—that Avery had found in leaving the bright lights of the big city to come back home to Bethel Springs was the quiet. Sure, there may only be one Starbucks in town, and if she had a craving for General Tso’s chicken a twenty-minute drive north to the neighboring town of McMinnville was required to get it, but those were sacrifices she was willing to make. Avery didn’t have to put up with the daily stress of commuting down the interstate to get to work or fight a crowd of people every time she had a craving for a latte.

  From a
work perspective, she didn’t have to worry about an endless stream of assaults, armed robberies, and other serious felony cases. There were none of the daily victim notifications to be made. Most of the cases she’d been handed since hiring on with the Brooks County Sheriff’s Department involved the theft of ATVs, and those usually occurred around the start of hunting season. In fact, the worst thing Avery had to worry about going to work in the morning was whether or not one of the day shift officers had called out sick and she’d get stuck working traffic outside the elementary school.

  So yeah, she was enjoying the quiet.

  “It’s gone! Oh, it’s gone forever!”

  “Oh, shut up Brenda!”

  Definitely the quiet, Avery thought grimly.

  “Oh, you shut up Dennis! It’s gone, and you know it! What are we going to do?” The diminutive woman in a bright yellow dress punctuated her last sentence with a wail that fell somewhere between an ambulance and a wounded cat.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have ask you to calm down,” Deputy Hobbs said, lowering his voice an octave and motioning for the belligerent pair to follow him and Avery out of the doorway of the Cottonwood Inn and away from the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle.

  Standing just a hair under six feet, his black hair closely cropped, Hobbs reminded Avery of many of the fresh-faced college kids that over-indulged Atlanta’s bar scene on Saturday nights. A football stand-out at the local high school, Hobbs had blown out his knee in the last game of his senior year, taking with it any hope of a college scholarship and a life beyond the city limits of his hometown.

  “Now,” he continued, retrieving a pen and notepad from the front pocket of his green polyester uniform shirt, “can either of you calmly explain to me and Detective Smith exactly what happened.”

  “What happened! I’ll tell you what—”

  “God damn it Brenda!” what Avery pegged to be Brenda’s long-suffering husband snapped, more or less taking the words out of her mouth. He glared at his wife before turning his attention back to Hobbs and Avery, adjusting the weathered Auburn University baseball cap perched on his head in between.

  Avery already knew the basics of the couple’s complaint, courtesy of Dana, who worked the front desk at one of the two hotels in Bethel Springs. Dennis and Brenda Knight were in town for the reading of her mother’s will, having arrived late the night before. They were due to meet up with Brenda’s sister at the lawyer’s office after breakfast, which is when the problem became apparent.

  “Well, it was sometime after five before we were able to leave our place yesterday—”

  Brenda’s left eyebrow flew up, landing just below the blonde hair that dipped down onto her forehead. “Are you seriously going to start with that again?” she snapped, taking a step back to cross her arms. “If you’d done something other than sit on your ass while I was running around trying to get the house closed up, we’d have left on time.”

  Dennis cut his eyes in the direction of his wife, but otherwise showed no signs of having heard her. “And so it was late by the time we got here to town, then we had to search to find this place because somebody…” Another cut of the eyes. “…was supposed to make reservations at the Motel 6 but didn’t. So when we pulled up and this fellow in a red jacket came out to help with our bags, what was I to think?”

  “That maybe you should’ve made sure who he was before you handed him the keys to our goddamn car?”

  “He looked like a goddamn valet, didn’t he? And if you thought something was up, why didn’t you say something, huh?”

  “All right,” Avery said, stepping in between them. “It doesn’t do anyone any good to stand here and shout at one another.” For just a second Avery thought the two of them were going to turn on her, but instead they exchanged evil glares with each other and then returned to their perspective corners. Avery continued. “Okay, and you said he was wearing a red jacket. Can you elaborate on your description?”

  Chewing on his tobacco-stained lower lip, he shook his head. “No, not really. It was dark and I really didn’t pay all that much attention. He had brown hair, maybe.”

  Hobbs dutifully scribbled on the pad as the man spoke.

  “Any facial hair?”

  “No, he was clean shaven.”

  “Did you notice any scars or tattoos?”

  “No.”

  “Do you remember what he smelled like?”

  Dennis cocked his head, looking like he’d just been asked if the Easter Bunny was real. “Smelled like?”

  Avery nodded. “Yes, did you catch the scent of a strong cologne or aftershave.”

  “No,” he said, “I didn’t smell him.” He shot a glance at his wife. “How about you, Brenda? Did you smell anything?”

  “Nothing outside your usual bullshit,” she murmured, not so quietly under her breath.

  “All right, now,” Hobbs said, shaking his head. “There’s no call for that kind of language.” Using the notepad, he gestured at Avery. “Detective Smith and I are trying to help here, and any information you can give us on the perpetrator, no matter how small or insignificant you may think it is, can make all the difference.”

  Dennis scrunched his nose. “You know what…come to think of it, there may be one thing.”

  “Oh?” Hobbs poised the pen over his notepad.

  “Yeah, I remember now that he was coming out of the front of the building right about the time we pulled up. As he was coming out the door, there was a girl walking in. He held the door for her.”

  “Do you remember what she looked like?” Avery asked, ignoring the back and forth between the couple.

  “I only saw her from the back. She was skinny, maybe twenty-something, and she had a funny color in her hair. Pink, maybe.”

  Brenda sniffed. “You would notice some little hussy, wouldn’t you?”

  “Stow it, Brenda,” Dennis snapped.

  “That gives us something,” Avery nodded. “I’m going to let Deputy Hobbs finish taking your statement while I go see if the front desk has any information on this potential witness. We’ll get the car entered into the computer so other local agencies will be on the lookout for it, and will let you know if and when we find anything.”

  The couple nodded in unison.

  Avery turned and headed toward the front desk, pausing long enough to throw a sympathetic glance at Hobbs.

  He grinned and waggled his eyebrows in response before turning his attention back to Dennis and Brenda. “Okay, Mr. Knight, you said the car is a blue 2010 Ford Mustang. Are there any distinguishing features about the car? Bumper stickers, dents or dings, that sort of thing?”

  “Not really,” Avery heard Dennis say as she walked away. “Just on the left door. It has a big dent where this one parked too close to one of those yellow poles at the Walmart.”

  “This one has just about had it up to here with your…”

  Avery was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the remainder of Brenda’s statement, but she had a pretty good idea of what it was. She suppressed a sigh as she reached the inn’s front desk, rapping her knuckles on the counter to get the attention of the day-shift clerk, Dana.

  “Those two are something else,” the middle-aged woman in a too-tight white shirt said, walking over to Avery with a grin on her face. “I’ve been thinking about selling tickets to the show.”

  “Tell me about it,” Avery muttered. “The husband said he saw a girl with pink hair walking in at the same time the thief was walking out last night. Any ideas on who that could have been?”

  “Sure,” she nodded. “That had to be Jordan. She dates Brad Young, who works the overnight shift. Most nights she brings him dinner.”

  “Do you have a number for her, or Brad? There’s a good chance that she saw the guy we’re looking for, so I’d like to talk to her.”

  Dana’s forehead creased as she thought. “No, but you can probably catch her at the Harvest Moon Café. That’s where she works.”

  “Grea
t,” Avery said. She reached into the pocket of her duty jacket and pulled out a small, leather bound notepad. She slid a business card out from between the pad’s pages and handed it to Dana. “Here’s my card. Can you have Brad call me when he comes on shift so we can rule out that there may have been any more witnesses?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thanks, Dana.”

  There was a ring of a bell as the inn’s door opened and a suitcase-carrying man in a three-piece suit walked in. Dana moved to greet him, frowning when she saw the man give a startled cringe as the sound of Dennis and Brenda’s arguing broke across the lobby.

  “Oh, and Detective Smith?”

  Avery grinned. “Don’t worry, Dana. I’ll get this show on the road before they scare off all your guests.”

  ****

  “I’ll have to say that the Investigations Unit is sure different than working Patrol, Detective Smith.”

  “Yeah, it’s a different animal altogether.”

  “Outside of that tractor that went missing from the O’Leary farm a couple months ago, I haven’t worked anything other than traffic stops and the school zone since I started with the department.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Although geographically Brooks was one of the larger counties in northeast Alabama, it was far from being a population center. Bordering a national forest to its south and the state’s fourth largest lake to its west, the county was made up of a collection of family-owned farms scattered around its hub, the town of Bethel Springs. Avery, being one of three investigators on the town’s twenty-five person sheriff department, had grown accustomed to working primarily on her own. She wasn’t used to having passengers in her department-issued Chevrolet Impala, and Deputy Hobbs’s presence in it now was a little unnerving. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was about him that was causing the muscles in her shoulders to roll up and buzz like an angry nest of wasps, but if she had to say—