Fatal Storm (13 page)

Sara followed his gaze but her eyes drifted
to one of the dormer windows near the roof. A shiver ran through
her body.

“Are you cold?” Dagger wrapped an arm around
her shoulder and pulled her close. The overcast skies had dropped
the temperatures at least fifteen degrees. “Come on. Let’s see if
we can find the big bad ghost.”

They made sure the French doors were
locked before returning to the hallway. Wall sconces along the way
clicked on, illuminating the hallway. The bedrooms were
cookie-cutter replicas from window treatments and Persian rugs to
the canopy beds and dressing tables. It was as though the owner had
received a quantity discount on the mansion’s furnishings. At the
end of the hall they saw a brass plate—
Curriculum
.

“I wonder if the children were home
schooled,” Sara said. The room contained recessed book cases, work
stations, an easel, and one massive desk set in a corner. The floor
was hardwood without a rug to protect its finish. “The Historical
Society supposedly made sure to replace any damaged furnishings
with replicas. If this room didn’t have carpeting then they didn’t
add one.”

“Or someone used it to roll up a body.”

They returned the way they had come and
stopped at what looked like a child’s room. The canopy bed and dust
ruffle were in pink and white eyelet. The dressing table had a
matching skirt and upholstered lid on the bench seat. A music box
sat in the middle of the dresser top. Sara ran a hand along the
top. “Not one speck of dust. How can that be?” She lifted the lid
on the music box. It played what sounded like a Viennese waltz.
“Pretty.” Sara closed the box then walked over to the bed. Lying
against the pillows was a doll dressed in the same color eyelet as
the bedspread. One eye was closed, its lashes touching a chubby
cheek. Suddenly the closed eye popped open. Sara jumped back.

“Bet the damn head turns, too,” Dagger said.
“And what the hell happened to its hair?”

“The girl probably combed it too hard. Hair
wasn’t as tightly woven back then.”

They continued down the hall on the opposite
side of the staircase, taking a passing glance in each of the
doorways. “Padre checked the blueprints on this house?” Sara
asked.

“He and Leyton Monroe both. Forensics went
through the house room by room. No panic rooms, attics or locked
pantries.”

“What about fireplaces that moved?” Sara
nodded toward a fireplace in what looked like the master suite.

“All of the fireplaces are on an outer wall.
No place for them to move to.”

“Maybe down. Did they check the ones on the
first floor?”

“There’s a root cellar under the kitchen and
dining room but they checked it out. Didn’t find any kind of an
entrance to the floor above except through the trap door on the
outside of the house.” He studied his partner, the intensity in her
eyes, how they changed to an elliptical shape when she called on
the eyesight of the hawk. “Do you hear or sense anything out of the
ordinary?”

Sara shook her head. “I’ve been listening for
labored breathing, cries, slow heartbeat of someone unconscious,
even a fast heartbeat of someone injured. I don’t sense anything,
Dagger. I already checked the exterior. Where do you think Sheila
could be?”

“My money’s still on Paris.”

Padre lead the way into the mansion. Josh,
dressed in baggy shorts and a tee shirt, grumbled like an impudent
child. “Don’t know why we couldn’t bring our own equipment.”

“Our department is checking it out,” Padre
replied. “You’ll get it all back.”

They entered the foyer and Flea came to an
abrupt stop. Dagger stood at the bottom of the staircase, arms
crossed. Exposed in a holster on the right side of his waist was a
Kimber .45. Eyes oozed distrust and fingers twitched as though
ready for any false move from the visitors.

“Whoa. Who’s the scary dude?
Witchblade
. Remember that show,
Josh?”

Josh felt Dagger’s glare. The eyes were so
black Josh was sure if he looked close he would probably see his
own reflection in them. “Damn, yeah,” he whispered. “What was that
character’s name?”

Flea snapped his fingers several times.
“Nottingham. Ian Nottingham. Show ran for two seasons. Could never
figure out if the character was a good guy or a bad guy.”

Venus pulled up close to Flea and studied the
stranger. “Yeah, totally scary...umm, but sexy.”

Padre worked his way around the three. “Josh,
Curt, Venus, meet Chase Dagger. Dagger is a consultant for the
police department.” Not one member reached out to shake his hand.
Josh and Flea gave a limp wave while Venus studied him as though he
were some specimen.

“How strange,” Venus said. “Your aura is like
totally black.”

Skizzy and Sara emerged from the library.
Skizzy scrutinized the group in much the same way Dagger had. Flea
could be Skizzy in thirty years. But the two young men had their
attention elsewhere. Like frozen beams of light, Sara’s turquoise
eyes had them mesmerized. Their eyes roamed from the navy blue
corduroys that hugged her legs to the cowl neck sweater that hit
mid-thigh. Her boots were dark blue suede and reached just above
the ankles. Their attempt to speak left their mouths in silent
perpetual motion, like fish gasping for breath.

Jewel stepped forward. “I hope I don’t slip
on their drool.” She reached a hand out to Sara. “Don’t mind them.
They don’t get out much. I’m Jewel.”

Padre finished the introductions. “Sara,
Skizzy, meet Curt, and Josh.”

“Flea,” Curt said, clearing his throat. “You
can call me Flea.”

“Damn, you smell good,” Josh said in a
halting voice. He saw Dagger roll his eyes. “Uh, what is it you
do?”

Skizzy jerked his head toward Dagger. “She
keeps him from shooting people.”

“Skizzy is our electronics expert.” Padre
waved his arm toward the room. “Shall we move this little meet and
greet to the library?”

“What kinda name is Flea?” Skizzy asked.

“What kinda name is Skizzy?” Flea's gaze
drifted to the equipment on the conference table. “Wow. All this
stuff yours?”

“Wonderful,” Dagger deadpanned. “They are
bonding over electronics.”

“Now they'll be engaged in geek-speak for the
rest of the night,” Josh said.

Padre gave a high-sign at Dagger saying,
“Let’s take a walk.” He led Dagger through the foyer and back out
onto the veranda. “Thought you should see where the bodies were
found.” Padre had stopped at home to change out of his professional
clothes. Now he looked as though he were going camping in his blue
jeans, a turtleneck, flannel shirt, and loafers.

They walked through trampled grass around
toward the back of the house. It was easy to see how a house this
size had been hidden for so long. It was surrounded on three sides
by woods and enough hedges had been planted on the street side
that, when fully grown, they had tightly woven together to form a
green wall.

“How much property did Sebold own?” Dagger
asked.

“About seventy-five acres. No one can build
around him because it’s all forest preserve property.”

“Anyone check to see if there were hunting
blinds in the forest?” Dagger dodged a patch of mud, thankful that
he had worn boots instead of tennis shoes.

“Sergeant Jackson contacted the ranger
station. They don’t allow the building of any hunting structures in
the forest.”

They reached an area where crime scene tape
floated in the afternoon breeze. It surrounded a ditch filled with
dried leaves and a five-inch deep accumulation of water from the
recent storm.

“This is where Rick Jensen was found.” Padre
turned toward the house. “As you can see, it isn’t exactly a
straight line from the back door. Where he came from is anyone’s
guess. He might as well have fallen out of the sky.”

“There has got to be some kind of cellar in
that house that has remained undetected. What else can explain it?”
Dagger studied the low hanging clouds as though Padre’s comment
held any credence. “What’s the weather prediction?”

“Massive storm front heading our way. Exactly
where I want to be during a killer storm...a haunted house.”

Dagger had to chuckle at that. “Maybe we’ll
need you to do an exorcism.”

“Don’t joke about it. Come on. Let me show
you the well.” Padre led the way down a trampled path. They could
see the tire tracks from the vehicles that had driven through
yesterday. Some tall grass stood as thick as a corn field. Others
had fallen in layers, struck down by the guardsmen. “How have you
been feeling?”

“Been talking to Sara?”

“Yeah, right. She’s about as forthcoming as
you are. You look the same, although I’m glad you got rid of the
beard. I was ready to put your name on the terrorist watch
list.”

“Sara’s tough to argue with when she has a
straight edge in her hand.”

Padre stopped and pointed at a slab of
concrete. “This is the entrance to the well. Took four guys to
remove it. They had to pretty much use a machete on all the
overgrowth so it was obvious no one had been around in years.”

Dagger did a slow scan of the acres
surrounding the house. It was as well protected as the three
hundred acres Sara’s house sat on. “I don’t know, Padre. If she
were here, we would have found her by now. Sara and I did a walk
through most of the first floor but only a quick look through the
rooms upstairs. I didn’t find a dummy waiter or attic entrance much
less boarded over closets. Skizzy brought some type of scanner that
sees through walls. Your guys didn’t find a storm shelter or second
root cellar?”

“No, and before you ask, we checked the
airline passenger lists. She’s not on any of them, hasn’t used her
passport.”

“She’s pretty persuasive with her assistants
by threat of firing. I wouldn’t put it past Sheila to have her
assistant drive over, pick her up, and drive her to a private jet
at a small airport.”

“Already checked the assistant.”

“And you don’t think she’d lie to protect her
job?”

“Leyton Monroe can also be pretty
persuasive.”

The kitchen was industrial-sized with a
center work station and cabinets on three of the walls. Sara opened
a large cooler and pulled out two of the foot-long sandwiches.

“You should see the butler’s pantry. It’s
bigger than my kitchen at home.” Venus dug through the bags and
pulled out paper plates and napkins. “The counter should be clean.
I wiped it down the day we arrived,” Venus said. “So you work with,
what was his name?”

“Dagger. Padre sometimes calls us in to
consult on cases, especially the unusual ones. And this one is
definitely unusual.”

“Do you carry a gun?”

“Not today. Dagger usually carries an
arsenal.” Sara didn’t think she would need a gun this weekend. She
hadn’t even brought a purse. She studied Venus’ long dress,
tattoos, and colorful jewelry and remembered what Padre had said
about her. Venus would fit right in behind a crystal ball at a
carnival. “Have you always been interested in astrology and the
occult?”

“It started in high school. That’s when most
of my friends started carving out their own passions. There were
three of us who got into Wiccan. We would do chants in the forest,
dress in all black, claim to put spells on the guys we liked.”

Sara could almost picture Venus in a forest
dancing around a circle drawn in the dirt, candles balancing in the
center. “Any of it work?”

“No. We were all fans of the TV
show
Charmed
and thought it
would be fun.” Venus placed cans of soda on the table. They found
packets of mayonnaise and mustard in the Subway bag.

“How do you like investigating haunted
houses?” It had been Dagger’s suggestion that they each engage the
IPI members in casual conversation hoping one would slip up and
reveal more of what happened the night Sheila disappeared.

“My grandmother and mother both believed they
were witches. Claimed to have out-of-body experiences while they
slept. I guess you could say it was kind of bred in me, although I
was too young to understand until I was in my teens. There is a lot
of energy in the world, things we can’t see. Who’s to say what’s
real and what isn’t? My grandmother taught me how to do seances and
communicate with the departed souls who were looking for answers,
trying to find their way to the light.”

“I’m sure that concept is difficult for some
people to accept. Was Sheila open-minded about it?”

Venus laughed. Sara detected a flash of
loathing in Venus’ eyes. But Venus reined it in as she replied, “I
could tell the moment I saw her that it was all a joke to her. She
posed for the photos, tried to hide her skepticism but it was
thinly veiled.” Venus lifted the strands of colorful beads on her
neck. “She even fingered these as though they were the tackiest
things she had ever seen. I just knew she wasn’t doing an unbiased
reporting of our work. I honestly believe she planned to do a
scathing article.”

“Is that how Josh and Flea felt?”

“Oh, puleeze. It’s a wonder they didn’t trip
over their tongues watching her strut around here. She has an air
about her, that subtle body language that says to keep your
distance, yet she flirts, wanting, I guess, to make sure she has
the attention of every man in the room. She had them wrapped around
her little finger. Men are so transparent.”

Sara thought this was as good a time to try
to bond with her new friend. “Sheila used to be engaged to
Dagger.”

Venus almost dropped a can of soda. “You have
got to be kidding. Her auras and his are so not compatible. How did
that ever happen?”

Sara realized Venus referred to Sheila in the
present term, not past, as someone might do if they knew Sheila
were dead. “She’s a bit controlling and Dagger doesn’t like to be
controlled.”