Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel) Page 7

  Lee reached into her purse and pulled out the bird. She stared at it in the shadows of the car, wondering if it would suddenly become animated and fly away. But it just sat there, an inanimate object. She was conflicted what to do with it. It had been one of Diane’s favorite possessions, but right now, it scared her to death. And right now, she didn’t need more stress in her life. Before she could change her mind, she hit the electric window button and rolled down the passenger side window. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it into a bush and closed the window. When her breathing had returned to normal, she put the car in gear and pulled back into traffic.

  She was just passing the athletic track when she noticed a dark young man crossing against the light on the other side. Lee peered through the windshield at him. He looked exactly like a younger version of Bud Maddox, only taller. Seeing the boy brought Maddox, and everything she hated about him, to mind.

  Maddox had slipped quietly into Diane’s life, almost before anyone noticed. He left little gifts on her desk, took an interest in her hobbies, and generally filled the void left by her ex-husband. Before long, Diane was leaving for lunch fifteen minutes early and taking unplanned days off. She started wearing brighter colors and smiling even when the mail was late. Yet, from the beginning, Lee hadn’t trusted Maddox. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Diane could attract someone like him. Rather, on some visceral level, she recognized Maddox for what he was − an empty well, a black hole poised to suck up the universe.

  A blaring horn snapped her to attention, and Lee realized she’d stopped at a green light. She raised an apologetic hand to the driver behind her and passed through the intersection. Thoughts about Bud Maddox brought back her failed marriage and the resulting decade of isolation. She had locked out that period of her life and closed herself off from everyone else as a result. As Patrick said, she didn’t date much, and when she did, there was always something wrong with the guy. At the same time her husband had gone missing, her beloved black Lab had been killed. It was one of the reasons she wouldn’t have a dog in the house. But how much of her search for the truth now was a reaction to the guilt she felt for having fought with Diane the night she died? And how much of it was atonement for the way she’d handled her own husband’s disappearance?

  Lee made it home without further incident. She parked the car and was coming around the corner of the house just as the headlights of a car flicked on across the street. She continued up the steps and stopped to search for the front door key, barely noticing the car as it pulled away from the curb going south. As she struggled to get the key into the lock, the car made a U-turn and came back up the street, slowing as it passed. Lee turned just as the car roared to life and sped away. It was the tan sedan.

  With a frown, she pushed open the heavy wooden door and slipped inside, quickly closing and locking the door behind her. She peered out the small paned window, but the car didn’t return. She relaxed a bit, threw her purse and coat over a chair, pulled the mail out of the mail slot, and headed for the kitchen. Soldier met her when she slid back the door, thick tail fanning the air. Lee looked into those deep brown eyes, feeling a connection building. With a grunt, she brushed the feeling aside and turned toward the back porch.

  “C’mon. You go outside.”

  Soldier followed her down the hallway and bounded into the yard, squatting in the grass. Lee left the screen door unlatched again and the back door open, and then returned to the kitchen. She stopped at the antique roll-top desk to sift through the mail. A moment later, the porch door slammed, and Soldier came into the room.

  “How do you do that?”

  When the dog didn’t answer, Lee reached for a small mug hanging on the wall and proceeded to make a cup of tea. Wherever she turned, Soldier followed. After dodging back and forth several times, Lee finally issued an order.

  “Sit!”

  To her surprise, the dog sat.

  “Well, thank you.”

  Why was she thanking a dog?

  “Now, stay there.”

  Soldier sat at attention, the high-set ears standing perfectly erect. Shepherds were known for their intelligence, but right now Soldier brushed her bushy tail across the floor like every other attention-hungry canine. Lee watched her, smiling, until the microwave timer beeped. She removed a bubbling cup of hot tea and placed it on the counter before going to the refrigerator to grab the milk. As she kicked the refrigerator closed, Soldier startled her with a bark. Lee turned to find the dog sitting next to the roll-top desk where the answering machine sat. The message light was blinking. Lee gave the dog a suspicious look before flicking the playback button.

  “You will never make me believe that you knew there was a message on that machine.”

  She continued fixing her tea while the automated recording told her there were two recorded messages and gave her the date and time of the first message. The fact the first message had been left on Thursday didn’t register until a deep, familiar voice filled the room. The intrusion of that voice made Lee jerk around as if she’d been electrocuted. She dropped the milk and spoon. The milk carton fell with a splat, splashing milk across the floor and lower cupboards. The spoon clattered under the table, while the message played on. When it finished, the machine beeped three times.

  Diane’s message was over. The next was about to begin.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lee sat at the kitchen table, her fingers gently massaging the muscles around her right knee as she stared in numbed silence at the answering machine. An amalgamation of thoughts whizzed through her head. Lee tried to remember the sequence of events the night of Diane’s death.

  She’d argued with Diane just before leaving the condominium. On the way home, she’d stopped at the mall to walk off her anger. Diane must have called and left this message while Lee was at the mall. When Lee arrived home she was still obsessing over the argument and had gone straight to bed, never checking the answering machine. The next day, Lee was more than a little angry because Diane had failed to show up for work and hadn’t called to explain her absence. Immediately after work, Lee had taken Amy and Soldier to the vet’s and then had gone to Diane’s condo, hoping Amy’s presence would serve as a buffer, because she knew she was ready for a fight.

  By the time she returned home, she felt as if someone had removed her brain. She’d unplugged all the phones, hoping to shut out the world. She’d even switched her cell phone to “silent.” Amy had convinced her to reconnect the hallway phone for emergencies, but Lee had purposely left the answering machine off so that she wouldn’t be forced to listen to condolences from well-intentioned friends. She’d never noticed there was an existing message.

  She clicked on the answering machine again so that Diane’s voice filled the room one more time.

  “Lee, I know you won’t approve, but I won’t be in tomorrow. I have a couple more vacation days coming to me, and Bud and I are going to Portland for something special. Tell Marie to make sure the newsletter gets to the printers. See you on Monday.”

  The anger in Diane’s voice wasn’t lost on Lee. She stood with her finger on the button, deciding to let the tape run through. The second message was from Amy. She’d arrived safely in Corvallis. At the sound of Amy’s voice, Soldier whined.

  “She’ll be back this weekend.”

  Lee stood up to erase the tape, but paused. Maybe she shouldn’t. It was the last communication from Diane and could be important. Instead, she turned out the light and left the kitchen. After locking doors and turning out lights on the ground floor, she headed upstairs to her bedroom. She turned on the hurricane lamp next to her bed and was preparing to plop down on the goose down comforter, when her knees buckled and she had to catch herself on the side table.

  The onyx bird was sitting on the side table next to the lamp.

  Lee felt bile rise to her throat, and she turned and rushed to the bathroom. She leaned into the sink, breathing hard. Her face was hot and flushed, and she could taste the sourness of t
he bile in her mouth. She took several deep breaths and then looked up into the mirror. What was going on?

  On unsteady feet, she returned to the bedroom and carefully approached the bird. Again, it just sat there. There was no movement. No fractured dimensions of time and space surrounding it. It looked like any other small figurine one might pick up in a gift store. Completely innocent.

  Lee moved over and sat on the bed, watching it. Another minute passed. Nothing happened. Finally, she swung her legs up and leaned back against the headboard, keenly aware of the bird next to her. Her heart still raced, but she was able to think lucidly now. So, what was going on? She’d asked Diane for help at the condo, and the bird had suddenly appeared. Right where she’d found the gouge in the floor. Then, she’d thrown it away, but it had come back. She snuck a glance at it and felt a renewed increase in her heartbeat. Maybe she was meant to keep it. Maybe even keep it close.

  Okay, she thought. It stays. She just couldn’t deal with it right now. If she was losing her mind, then Patrick would have to commit her at some later point in time. Right now, she was fixated on Diane’s death.

  She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Her mind flitted back to Diane’s taped message. That was the important thing. She had to decide what to do with that. She could call Alan and tell him she had a real piece of evidence. There was no denying now that Bud Maddox had lied to the police about not having spoken to Diane for several days before she died. He must have called Diane right after Lee left that night and invited her to Portland. He must have also lied about breaking up with her; he may have even been the last person to speak with her before she died. But what could Alan do? He’d probably just say it was more circumstantial evidence. There was nothing to link Bud to any crime, and she was sure Sergeant Davis wouldn’t care anyway.

  Heavy breathing made Lee turn to where Soldier sat next to the bed. The dog’s eyes pleaded for attention, so Lee reached out her hand. Soldier scuttled forward and laid her head on the bed so that Lee could stroke her nose. The dog closed its eyes in ecstasy while Lee’s thoughts returned to Diane.

  “Okay, time to lie down,” she finally told the dog.

  Soldier complied with a groan and placed her long snout across one of Lee’s tennis shoes. Lee smiled in spite of herself. Just then, the phone rang, making Lee jump.

  “Damn!” she sighed. Her nerves were shot. She answered the phone.

  A familiar male voice on the line made her slump back against the pillow.

  “Hey, Sis, I need a favor.”

  “What now?”

  “What do you think about me coming to stay with you for awhile?”

  Lee sat up.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Well, what with Amy gone and everything, I thought you could use some company.”

  Lee felt her whole body tense.

  “Patrick, you’re married. Why would you come to live with me? What about Erika?”

  As soon as she asked the question, she knew the answer. She’d noticed a growing distance between the couple. Erika was a graphic artist who worked at home, while Patrick spent long hours at the theater. The couple rarely spent time together, certainly not enough to start the family Erika so desperately wanted. There was a pause at the other end of the line.

  “I think sometimes women like to have time alone. You know, to sort things out.”

  Lee sighed. “You’re splitting up.”

  There was another pause. Patrick’s normally jovial manner had disappeared.

  “I hope not, but we’ll have to wait and see. For now, I think I just need to give her some space.”

  Lee rubbed a knot on her forehead as hard as if she were rubbing out a stain in the carpet. The last thing she wanted was Patrick hanging around the house getting on her nerves.

  “I’m going to have to think about that one. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

  He started to hang up when she stopped him.

  “Patrick! Any chance we can have lunch tomorrow? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Sure. I have an acting class at ten and Theory at two-thirty. What’s up?”

  “I’d rather talk to you about it tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we meet at Papa Fromo’s at noon?”

  “Great. See you then.”

  “Is everything okay, Lee?”

  Lee hesitated, not sure whether to say anything, yet. Her ego was still bruised by what Patrick had said that afternoon, and it would be hard to admit he’d been right. She decided to make him wait.

  “I just need some advice. See you tomorrow for pizza.”

  Lee hung up and allowed her head to sink back onto the pillow, contemplating her brother. Patrick was two years older than Lee, and she’d grown up idolizing both her brother, and her father, John O’Donnell. But her father had been a rogue, and a philandering one at that. So on Lee’s eighth birthday, her mother had packed up their things, taken Lee by the hand, and walked out on her husband. She had also left Patrick behind, something Lee had never understood. But she suspected it was because Patrick reminded her too much of his father. She and her mother moved back to Minnesota where her mother married John Vanderhaven, a bland and unaffectionate man. Deciding this time to marry for security, she warned Lee, “Love isn’t everything, Lee. There’s something to be said for stability.”

  In time, her mother’s personality became as dull as her stepfather’s. Most of what Lee remembered about those days was the silent meals around the dinner table and the smell of sour milk on her stepfather’s shirt where he had a tendency to dribble his morning breakfast. Lee found herself counting the days until summer when she would spend a week with her father and brother on her aunt’s farm in upstate New York.

  Unfortunately, when she was eleven, her father remarried and stopped coming, sending Patrick on alone. The day after her fifteenth birthday, John O’Donnell died in a factory accident, extinguishing the light in Lee’s world. What Patrick didn’t realize was how much she resented his good luck for having grown up with the one man she would love forever. And that resentment would, at times, find its way into disagreements with Patrick. She did love her brother, though. She loved the way he used to put a protective arm around her when the fights between their parents got to be too much. She loved his insatiable sense of humor. And loved that he truly wanted the best for her. Perhaps having him come to stay for awhile might not be such a bad idea, especially now. She’d let him know the next day.

  Lee climbed off the bed to brush her teeth, careful to step over the prone dog already snoring. After finishing in the bathroom, she donned a nightgown and glanced out the window before closing the blinds. The tan sedan sat alone under the street lamp across the street, like a sentinel on guard duty. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen the car before today. It could merely belong to someone who lived across the street. But from now on, she’d pay more attention to it, just in case.

  She climbed into bed and fell asleep dreaming of a flock of birds.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lee tossed and turned throughout the night, finally getting up at one point to drink some warm milk. The next morning she indulged in three cups of coffee to give her enough energy to make it to work. Not a great idea, since she’d begun to notice a constant ringing in her ears.

  She arrived in her office ten minutes before the administrative team meeting scheduled for nine o’clock. It gave her just enough time to check her emails before she had to go talk about budgets and cost overruns. She turned on her computer and scrolled through about thirty emails. She saw the usual array of messages from staff, board members, and outside contacts. But one email caught her attention, and she sat down to read it.

  The message had been sent from someone outside the hospital and was identified as having come from “A Friend.” It read very simply:

  Double, double, toil and trouble

  Fire burn and cauldron bub
ble

  By the pricking of my thumbs

  Something wicked this way comes

  Beware!

  There was nothing more.

  Lee inhaled and held her breath before exhaling slowly. Wasn’t that how the odd condolence card had been signed? A friend? The ringing in her ears had now been joined by a racing heart rate. Who would send her that card and then this weird email? It must be connected to Diane’s death. But how?

  Lee reread the poem. Parts of it sounded familiar, but she struggled to place the entire piece. She hit the print button and put the copy on her desk just as Andrew appeared at her door.

  “You coming?” he inquired.

  Lee looked up. “Yeah, I just wanted to check emails.”

  She grabbed a notepad and pencil, and then paused. Andrew held a degree in Philosophy along with his MBA. He might recognize the poem’s origin.

  “Andrew, do you have any idea what this is?” she asked, handing it to him.

  Andrew took it and read the lines. “Well, even though I skipped most of my English Lit classes in college, I’m sure it’s from Shakespeare, although I don’t know which play.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Lee agreed.

  “Better ask your brother,” Andrew handed back the piece of paper. “Where did you get it?”

  “Uh…someone gave it to me.”

  She stuffed the note into her purse, when something sharp pierced her finger. She yanked her hand back, surprised to find a small droplet of blood at the tip of her second digit.

  “Wow,” Andrew exclaimed, looking at her injury. “What do you carry in there?” He attempted a laugh. “Get a Band Aid and I’ll meet you in the conference room.”