Giving Up the Ghost (7 page)

"Down the steps, go past the community rooms, then turn left."

Downstairs, she passed a large room, its walls filled with oil paintings. The narrow
hallway to the restrooms had two small rooms on either side. They were set up like classrooms. In
one were a young Chinese man and a woman with long blonde hair. The young man was reading
aloud, slowly and falteringly. Gabbie paused, curious.

When he stopped, the woman smiled at him. "Very good, Richard. Do you understand
what you've been reading?"

"I think so." He paraphrased in stilted English.

"Yes, that's correct."

Gabbie recognized the woman who had sat at the next table in Logan's. She was Jill
Leverette.

Gabbie's heart began to pound. Pieces were beginning to fall into place. Don't be so
dramatic. This is a small town. Besides, Cam told you Jill tutored in the library.

Jill must have sensed Gabbie behind her. "Did you want something? We have the room
for another five minutes."

"No, sorry." Gabbie's words tripped over each other. "I was on my way to the--I heard
someone reading, and being a teacher, I couldn't help--"

Jill flashed a dazzling smile, letting Gabbie know that her bumbling explanation was
perfectly understandable. She is beautiful! This was the woman Cameron Leeds had loved. Still
loved, she corrected herself with an unexpected pang of jealousy.

"I'm not a certified teacher, but I help out with the literacy program."

"Please excuse the interruption. I'll let you get on with the lesson." Gabbie hoped her
voice hadn't given away her confusion.

She took her time in the ladies' room, freshening her lipstick and brushing her curly
hair. She was in dire need of a haircut. If she delayed long enough, Jill might very well show up after
she ended her session with her student, which should be just about now.

Or she wouldn't. Gabbie made a disparaging face at her image in the mirror and started
for the door. It opened and Jill entered.

"I was hoping you'd still be here," she said. "After you left, it dawned on me who you
are."

Gabbie held out her hand. "Gabbie Meyerson, your daughter's new English
teacher."

Jill's grip was firm, her blue eyes sad and wary. "I hear you're renting the Leeds
cottage."

Gabbie gave her a wry smile. "And you're about to tell me one of the owners fell to his
death there last spring. I didn't know it when I signed the lease, but everyone is quick to fill me
in."

"Yes. Cameron Leeds." Jill set her briefcase on the floor and headed for one of the two
stalls. When she emerged, she said, "I still can't believe it was an accident."

Gabbie's heart beat double-time. Go slow, she told herself. "There's no fence, but a row
of scrawny trees along the edge. And the drop is pretty steep. At least two stories, wouldn't you
say?"

"Cam lived and played at that cottage most of his life," Jill answered over the sound of
running water. "And it wasn't the first time he went over the bluff."

"I heard he and Darren Rollins both did, when they were in high school."

"True enough. Do you know why?"

Gabbie laughed as she shook her head. "Give me time. I've only been living here since
Sunday."

"They were fighting over a girl. Rosetta Davis, my sister Janice's friend. Rosetta's
married now with three kids."

"Fighting over a girl? I thought Darren was Cam's best friend." Gabbie opened the door
and they walked single file down the narrow hall.

"Best friend and avid competitor. In most things," Jill said.

But not where you're concerned. They walked up the stairs without speaking. The pause
in their conversation seemed natural. Though she and Jill were strangers, Gabbie sensed the ease
she felt in Jill's presence was mutual. I like this woman.

She stopped to pick up a mystery she'd been meaning to read, and went to stand behind
Jill, who was having a problem checking out a book. The clerk--a wisp of a woman, as devoid of
color as her gray sweater and skirt--was insisting Jill couldn't take it out because she hadn't
returned How to be Happy, which was now overdue.

"Sonia, I returned that book a week ago." Jill spoke slowly, as though to a child. "You can
look it up on the computer."

"The computer's down," the clerk snapped, "and we're too short-handed to send
someone into the stacks to verify that you've returned it."

"How absurd." Jill ignored the "Employees Only" sign and marched through an open
door. "Barbara? I need your assistance with another problem."

Barbara McIntlock appeared immediately and exchanged a knowing glance with Jill. As
Jill explained the situation to the director, the clerk eyed her maliciously.

"Sonia." The director spoke as if they'd had this conversation before.

"Yes, Barbara?" Sonia's expression was now as bland as her tone of voice.

"Please check this book out for Jill. We can take her word that she's returned How to be
Happy."

Sonia did as she was told. Jill gave a huff of exasperation and headed for the exit. Gabbie
handed Sonia her temporary library card. What's in store for me?

The piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Sonia bent to pick it up. "But this address is the
Leeds cottage. No one lives there."

Gabbie reined in her impatience. Did everyone in this town have to comment on her
residence? "I live there now, and will continue to do so for the next few months."

"Oh." Sonia's ears were red as she checked out the book and handed Gabbie the
due-date receipt.

Outside, the sun was sinking behind the trees. The temperature must have dropped at
least twenty degrees. Gabbie pulled up the hood of her parka and hurried to her car. Two spaces
away, Jill was closing her trunk.

"That Sonia. Did she give you a hard time, too?"

"Not really. She just commented on where I was staying, like everyone else in this
town."

Jill sighed. "She hates me, though for the life of me I can't imagine why."

"She certainly was rude. I wonder why they don't fire her."

"CH is a small town. Everyone knows Sonia's story and feels sorry for her." She stepped
closer and lowered her voice. "Sonia was a year behind me in school. She was a wimp from the day
she was born. The kid the bullies always picked on." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "When she
was in eleventh grade, she was raped."

Gabbie shivered. "Oh, how awful. Did they find the guy who did it?"

"The rumor is some boys a couple of towns from here invited her to a party. They
picked her up in a van and took turns with her. Sonia never said who they were. When the cops
finally went to talk to her, she claimed she couldn't remember any of the details."

She hesitated and bit her lip. "At the time, some people thought she was afraid to name
names because the boys were from CH, but I didn't believe it."

"The poor thing! To have something that awful happen when you're sixteen or
seventeen." Gabbie suddenly thought of Cam the womanizer and wondered if he could have been
the unnamed rapist.

"I feel bad for her, but Sonia's her own worst enemy. She's as difficult and nasty as they
come. And I see her sour puss every time I open my front door. She's my next-door neighbor. Lucky
me." Jill shook her head and flashed her beautiful smile. "But enough negativity. I'm pleased to have
met you, Ms. Meyerson."

"Gabbie."

"And I'm Jill." She waved and got into her car.

On the way home, Gabbie rehashed every fact Jill had told her. No mention of her
husband, Fred. Had Fred killed Cam? It seemed a bit farfetched and melodramatic, given that he and
Jill were still living together as a couple. But maybe Fred had killed Cam so he and Jill would still be
a couple. Although judging from last night, they were barely on speaking terms. Surely Jill wouldn't
stay with Fred if she knew he'd murdered Cam--the operative word being "knew."

There were too many suspects, Gabbie mused as she unlocked the front door. Besides,
how was she supposed to open up a murder investigation when Cam's best friend, the town's police
chief, had ruled his death an accident? Obviously, she had to find evidence or proof or something
that would convince Darren Rollins he'd been wrong. And how was she supposed to perform this
amazing feat?

Thank goodness Cam wasn't around. Gabbie changed into jeans and a polo before
starting on dinner. After she'd eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, she headed for the den with some
trepidation. She had prep work to do, and while Cam was the proverbial albatross around her neck,
she owed him a report of what she'd learned so far, though it amounted to nothing.

She'd managed half an hour of reading and note-taking, before a cold draft chilled the
room. This time she wasn't surprised when Cam materialized beside the glass doors.

"How was your first day of school?"

"Fine." She raised her eyebrows. "I met Jill this afternoon. In the library."

"How is she? How does she seem?"

"Nice. Unhappy. We got to talking. She strikes me as a kind person."

"And that surprises you?"

"Somewhat," Gabbie admitted.

"You expected a big, brassy blonde. What other type of married woman would have a
longstanding affair with the town sex machine? But it just happened, Jill and me. If you knew Fred,
you wouldn't wonder why."

She laughed. She found the "big, brassy blonde" funny. "I saw him at Logan's last night.
He hardly said a word all through dinner."

Cam stretched out on the couch and narrowed his eyes. His expression turned
forbidding, giving Gabbie an idea of what a tough businessman he must have been. "Believe me, he's
more toxic than the bland, boring persona he assumes."

Gabbie raised an eyebrow. "Quite the psychiatrist, aren't you?"

"You have to know how people think if you're going to outwit them."

For a ghost, his mind was keen, his conversation stimulating, but Gabbie hadn't the time
nor the inclination for bantering. "Jill finds it hard to believe your death was an accident."

"I'm glad," he said, not much above a whisper.

She sensed the effort it took Cam not to ask what else Jill had said about him. Instead, he
said, "Now to get Darren to see it that way. If we could find one shred of evidence that pointed to
murder, he'd reopen the investigation in a flash."

"One shred of evidence," she echoed. "The trouble is, this room was never treated as a
crime scene. Everything's been trampled on and handled."

"And Mary Hanley had some pretty thorough cleaners in here. I wasn't exactly the best
housekeeper in town."

Gabbie forced herself to bring up the next subject she wanted to ask him about. "Jill told
me Sonia Russell was raped when she was in high school."

He sat up to stare at her in obvious surprise. "How did that happen to come up in the
conversation?"

Gabbie sat down at the desk. She shook the snow scene paperweight and watched the
snow settle before going on. "Sonia was at the circulation desk. She gave Jill a hard time."

"That's Sonia, all right. She has her ways. Does it to make herself feel important."

"I was just wondering. You didn't have anything to do with...that business."

Cam put his hand to his heart. "Dammit, Gabbie, what do you take me for? I never forced
a girl or woman for as much as a kiss. In fact--" He stopped, as though deep in thought.

"In fact, what?"

"Darren and I found Sonia that night on the beach, a couple of miles from here. It was
early April, and cold as a witch's--er--nose. Must have been spring recess or something, because I
was home from college."

"Anyway, Sonia was dressed in a frilly party dress. Some cheap shiny material with
ruffles. Nothing the girls we dated would be seen dead in. It was dirty and torn. She must have
heard us call to her, but she just sat there, hunched up on the sand, hugging herself and
moaning.

"We got her into the car and Darren was all for going to the police. That's when Sonia
suddenly found her voice. She started screaming and cursing, telling us to take her home. She said
her father was out drinking, and he'd kill her if he found out she'd left the house against his orders,
even if it meant the boys who hurt her didn't get punished."

"That's when you knew she'd been raped?"

Cam was growing transparent. Their conversation would be ending soon.

"She denied it at first. Then the story came tumbling out. She'd met two guys outside the
candy store in town, and was flattered when they flirted with her. They invited her to a party. Said
they'd come and pick her up. Sure they did, only the party turned out to be four of them and poor
Sonia in a van. Real scuzzes from two towns over. We made her promise to go to the doctor."

"But she didn't, did she? And the scum got away with it." Gabbie snorted. "How
typical."

"As far as the police were concerned." Cam grinned. "But let's see... By the time June
rolled around, two of them had smashed noses, one a broken arm, and the other ended up in the nut
house after we scared him half to death." He chuckled. "We snuck into his house one night. Got up as
ghosts, actually."

Gabbie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. "Did Sonia find out?"

"Darren and I let her know we took care of the bad guys, but she never said one word.
Not 'good job' or 'thanks, fellas.' After that night she was weirder than ever. At least nobody
bothered her again. If you don't count the beatings her father gave her till he died a year or two
later. A nighttime hit-and-run got him when he was staggering home drunk. No one mourned him,
not Sonia or any of his three sons."

Gabbie shuddered. "Poor Sonia."

"Just another sad CH story. There are plenty of 'em."

Gabbie looked at her watch. "I hate to chase you, Cam, but I've still some work to
do."

"Just one more thing." Cam gnawed at his lower lip. "If you're going to keep on playing
Sherlock Holmes, I'd better tell you about the money."