Dark Demon Rising: Whisperings Paranormal Mystery book seven (9 page)

I
came downstairs and rejoined the gathering which had shrunk to seven people. Two
more guests bid Anne farewell and the remaining five got to their feet and told
her they should be going. Anne looked at them from where she sat with her
brother on a loveseat. Her reddened eyes slightly unfocused, she smiled and thanked
them for coming.

Alone
with Gordon, Anne sniffled and said, “Not much of a turnout for Ethan.”

Gordon
hugged her with one arm. “I’m sorry, darling.”

“I
expected more of his friends.”

“I
imagine their parents talked them out of it.”

“They
think Avery shot that woman.”

My
ears perked. “Whoa!”

“She
means you!” from Mel.

“Did
he, Anne?” Gordon asked.

“I
. . . I think so. Why else did he run away?”

“Where
is he?”

Anne
shook her head as if to dispel unwelcome thoughts. “Please, Gordon. I’ve been
through it with the police, the neighbors, reporters badgering me. Now you? I
have no idea where Avery is.”

She
lowered her face to her hands and burst into tears. Gordon’s arm tightened on
her shoulders as she sobbed.

“He
was alone, Gordon. All alone in that horrible place. Where did he get the
knife?”

“The
boy? Did he kill himself in the jail?” Mel asked.

“From
another inmate, I expect,” Gordon looked past Anne’s head with stony eyes. “I
hear you can buy just about anything in there.”

“But
what happened? What did he experience that was so awful he took his life?”

Unless
the prison authorities knew and released information to the press, we’d
probably never know what drove Ethan to commit suicide. Despite what he and Jamie
did, I felt sorry for him.

Was
it suicide, or did another inmate off him? I have heard jail time is worse than
prison. Throw a kid in with repeat offenders who have more control of the
environment than the guards do, anything can happen and does.

A
rattling noise from the front of the house made Ann and Gordon look up. Anne
sprang to her feet and Gordon’s arm fell away. Her response to the noise troubled
him.

“It’s
the mail,” she explained.

Which
didn’t account for why a mail delivery made her rush to the front door. Gordon
heaved up from the loveseat.

“No,
I’ll get it.” Anne flung her hand at Gordon.

Clearly
puzzled, he sank back.

Mel
and I stuck on Anne’s tail. She swept a pile of mail off the floor and sorted
through it. Most of it went on a small table but Anne held on to three
magazines.

“I
won’t be a moment,” she called to Gordon as she made for the staircase.

Mel
and I swapped
what the hell?
looks and skimmed after her.

“Did
you see what they are?” I asked Mel.

“One
of them: Wilderness Way.”

“Wilderness
Way? It’s a survivalist magazine.”

Anne
trotted downstairs to the basement. Mel and I sailed behind her. The stairs
ended in a large den with a passageway and several doors leading from it.
Everything a den should be, with a pool table, bar, refrigerator, big screen
television and comfortable armchairs. An open fire blazing behind a fire screen
sent ambient light over polished oak. A big window provided a panoramic view of
the mountains.

Anne
went to the fireplace, shifted the screen away and threw the magazines on the
flames. Wringing her hands, she stood and watched them catch alight.

“American
Survival Guide, Survivalist and Wilderness Way,” I murmured as the magazines
smoldered. Why burn them in a hurry? Why burn them at all?

She
didn’t she want Gordon to see them.

“Tiff,
look.” Mel stood near the bar and gazed at the wall.

I
joined her and squinted at the framed certificates proudly displayed in neat
rows, gilt-edged awards for marksmanship with rifle and pistol.

“That’s
where I heard Avery’s name! He’s Clarion’s reigning Dead Eye Dick. He’s held
the Clarion Annual Fair marksmanship title against all comers these past seven
years.”

“Oh
my god! His son died in jail and you put him there. So he tried to kill you.”

“How
did Avery learn I investigated the case?” Although I owned something of a rep
in the private sector, I performed the work I did for law enforcement strictly
under the radar. I spoke to the victims, fingered the killer, and Mike knew
where to look for evidence. When he could justify bringing them in for
questioning, it was in the bag. The number of perps Mike Warren couldn’t break
can be counted on one hand.

No
wonder this family interested Clarion PD. The son commits suicide while in jail
and the woman who put him there is shot. The father, who happens to be a
marksman, disappears at the time of the shooting. And even his wife thinks he
did it.

But
what about those magazines? I shot to the fireplace and looked at them. Shiny
paper doesn’t burn well and they still smoldered, the edges black and curling.
I doubted the flames could burn me so bent in as close as possible. “I wonder
if Avery has subscriptions. Is he a survivalist or a wannabe?”

“Nothing
upstairs makes me think this is a survivalist’s home. I’ll check down here.” Mel
zipped across the basement and through the dividing wall.

If
Avery was a survivalist, surely his family and neighbors knew, so why destroy
the magazines?

“Nothing,”
Mel said. “No stores, no nothing.”

I
cupped my chin in one hand. “Hm. Survivalists believe in preparing for a
disaster, in the ability to provide for and defend their families, and live off
the land if necessary. And a minority are paranoid about the whole thing. They
keep it to themselves because when the great disaster hits, they don’t want to
share supplies or fight those who try to take it away from them. Perhaps Avery
is one of those. His wife knows, probably his daughter, but nobody else.”

And
she didn’t want it to get out so she burned the magazines.

“Ahem,”
from Mel.

I
turned to see her standing against the wall, hands clasped behind her back,
looking pleased with herself. “Don’t survivalists have fortified hideouts in
the mountains?”

“Not
necessarily fortified, though I saw television shows about compounds where folk
live year round. Many of them are in mountainous areas, some in the desert.”

Mel’s
eyebrows twitched and she jogged her head a little. I stared—would I ever get
used to seeing her face in motion?

“
Ahem
,”
she said again, bouncing her head to one side more energetically.

I
crossed the space and stared at the framed photos on the wall and my mouth came
open. “Well, I’ll be darned.”

One
photo showed the entire family posed on the porch of an A-Frame cabin. The
picture was snapped in summer; they wore T-shirts and shorts as they smiled for
the camera. The other photo showed a winter scene of the cabin taken from a
distance. Snow off the steeply pitched roof piled around the cabin and icicles
dripped from the eaves. Blue spruce and leafless scrub oak massed behind and on
the left, through a break in snow-dusted pine, a black line supported by
upright posts skimmed a bare white slope.

“I
think. . . .” I concentrated on the photo. “I
know
that place. See on
the slope, Mel? It’s a ski lift on Nordic Meadow Resort’s east face.”

“The
ski resort!” Mel said gleefully. “It’s been there forever. Skiing in winter and
the golf course in summer.”

“You’ve
been there?”

“No,
silly.” Mel flapped one hand at me. “I saw their ads in the newspaper.”

She
squinted to look at the photos. “But the cops must know about the place.”

“Yep,”
I agreed.

I
closed my eyes and concentrated, glad that although physically challenged, my
brain still worked.

After
a minute I opened my eyes. “Anne burned the magazines because she doesn’t want
anyone to know Avery is a survivalist. Presumably, that includes the police.
But they’ll know about the cabin and have checked it out. If it’s Avery’s base
and the cops have seen it, there’s nothing to hide. Why burn the magazines?”

“The
cabin isn’t Avery’s hideout. Anne doesn’t want anyone to suspect they have another
one.”

“Right.”
I grinned at Mel.

Then
she made a face. “But where does it leave us?”

Dejected,
I drooped. “Nowhere.”

“Anne,
are you coming up?” Gordon called from upstairs.

Anne
jumped. Grabbing a poker from beside the fireplace, she prodded what remained
of the magazines deeper into the fire and tried to move a few logs over them. “Coming,”
she called with a final vicious jab.

We
followed her up the staircase at a slower pace. Our investigation had hit a
wall and I didn’t know where to turn next. Should I ask Maggie to take me to
Avery’s cabin? I presumed Clarion PD already tore the place apart.

My
forehead creased; I could look at the cabin with a ghost’s eyes, poking into
every inch, tiny places where something interesting might be hidden. The police
are good at this stuff, but I’d found clues they missed before now.

Yep,
I know, clutching at straws.

Upstairs,
I told Mel, “I’m going to ask Maggie to take me to the cabin but I think it’s
important one of us sticks with Anne. Perhaps Avery will call her. Can you stay
and shadow her?”

“Me?”
She frowned. “Can’t Jack do it?”

“Jack
is going to Clarion PD. I think we also need someone there. Of course, if you’d
rather be at the PD, fine with me.”

 “It
was
so
boring last time.” A slow smile widened her mouth. “Jack can do
boring. I’ll stick with Anne.”

“Atta
girl.”

“I’m
not a dog.”

“I
no way came near calling you a dog!”

“It’s
what you say to Mac: atta boy.”

I
gave her my back. “For crying out loud, Mel.”

She
grumbled away behind me. I waited her out.

“How
are you going to get outside?” she finally asked.

“I
hope Gordon leaves soon.”

But
Susan left before Gordon. The girl trotted down the stairs and called out, “I’m
going to Nina’s, Mom.”

Anne
came into the foyer with Gordon trailing her. Warmth flushed her cheeks as she
smiled fondly at her daughter. “Don’t stay out too late, honey.”

Gordon
made a sound in his throat. “Don’t you think you should stay with your mother,
today of all days?”

Susan
scowled and Anne spoke quickly. “It’s all right, Gordon. Susan is coping in her
own way. I understand.”

Susan
flashed a grateful smile and opened the front door. I made a wild grab and
caught her aura.

“I’ll
be back for you, Mel,” I had time to say as Susan whisked me through the door.

I
released her when we reached the sidewalk. Susan plugged in her earbuds and
walked south.

I
looked up the hill at the Mini. And waited. And waited. I doubted Jack saw me
clearly but I waved anyway. After half a minute longer, the Mini crept down.

It
accelerated as it neared the house. When it came level with me, a small
notebook flew through the open window. Maggie braked, exited the car in a rush
and left the engine running while she trotted along to retrieve the notebook
from the neighbor’s front yard. She brushed snow off it as she came back to me.

I
snagged her and we got in the Mini.

“Where’s
Mel?” Jack asked.

“What
took you so long?” I asked Maggie, and added, “You and Jack were arguing.”

Maggie
put the car in gear and we pulled away from the sidewalk. Her voice brimmed
with sarcasm. “How did you guess?”

“Easy.”

“He
told me you were here but wanted to wait till Mel came out. I decided not to
when he said you were waving.”

Jack’s
head jutted between the front seats. “Where is Mel?”

“Clever
move back there, by the way. Tossing out the notebook.”

“All
I could think of.”

“Where
is Mel?”
Jack screeched.

He
didn’t see me smile. “I ditched her.”

“You
di. . . . How?” His voice rose in outrage. “Why did you leave her there?”

“She
was in another part of the house when I caught a ride with Susan. We don’t need
Mel. You’ve always thought she’s dead weight, Jack.”

“I
. . . no I never. . . ,” he spluttered. “You go back right now and get her!”

“Why,
Jack, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Silly
boy, she’s teasing you,” Maggie said with a grin.

“Boy!”
Oh, my. Jack erupted. “I’m three times your age, young lady.”

“Only
because you’re dead.”

Maggie
was getting into the swing of things with Jack. What a shame she didn’t see my broad
grin.

I
took pity on him. “Jack, Mel is keeping an eye on Anne Magnusen.” And I told
him and Maggie what we discovered in the Magnusen house. “Perhaps she’ll call
Avery.”

“But
don’t you think the cops have bugged her phones?” Maggie asked.

“Maybe,
maybe not. Getting a warrant issued takes time.”

“Oh.”
Maggie gnawed on her lip. “Anyway, where to now?”

I
laid it on thick. “If it’s okay with you, Jack, I’d like your ears and eyes on
the PD.”

Jack’s
body went limp and he grimaced. “After spending one of the longest nights of my
life there?”

“I
could have asked Mel but I pictured all those hunky detectives. She’s so easily
distracted.”

Jack
sucked his lower lip as his eyebrows rose.

“Not
to mention the equally hunky men in blue.” I added ingeniously. “I need someone
I can rely on. Jack, you’ll be invaluable.”

“Invaluable?”
Jack preened, running his hands over his chest. “If you’re sure you need me
there, how can I say no? What will you be doing while Mel’s at the Avery house
and I’m at Clarion PD?”

“Maggie,
have you been to Nordic Meadow?”

“Yeah,
years ago. Not lately. Why?” Maggie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You
don’t want to go
there?
”

“The
Magnusens have a cabin there. I want to look around it.”

She
coughed. “No. Way. Those roads are steep, the Mini will lose traction. Sliding off
the mountainside may not bother you but I’m not risking it.”

“The
roads aren’t bad. Kids have to drive them to attend Clarion High. The county
does a better job with them than with Clarion’s streets.”

“Yeah,
and too many go over the side every winter. It’s a wonder there aren’t
fatalities.”