Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 01 - Haunted Hijinks (8 page)

“Well, we’re not there right now, so don’t worry. I’m not about to be chased from the mansion … not in this case. Let’s go.”

Eleanor and I made our way back to where Martha was turning hot dogs with a fork on her grill. “About time you turned up, Mother. I was about ready to gather together a search party.”

Just then, a trashcan was tipped over as a ferocious bark was heard. It came from Leotyne’s dearly departed hellhound that was now in ghostly form, chasing my ghost up a nearby tree.

“What on earth,” Eleanor began. “What tipped that trash can over?”

“Oh, probably a squirrel.”

“I didn’t see any squirrel.”

“W-Well, you know it must have darted away fast, is all.”

“Hot dogs or no hot dogs?” Martha asked as she tapped her fork on the grill to get our attention.

“Sure, I’m starving.”

Soon we were all digging in and the men left to go swimming, informing us they had already eaten. They laughed when I told them to wait an hour after they ate to go swimming.

“So what’s your case about?”

I quickly gave Martha a run-down about how Eleanor and I had found yet another body and what Jack had told us.”

“Wow, you two sure manage to find a lot of bodies. It’s like your specialty.”

Between bites, Eleanor asked me, “Do you think Jack offed Katherine?”

“You know, I’m not sure. He sure had reason to, but he seemed to believe that he might just get that money back.”

“I know, but there was nothing stopping him from showing up at the mansion and choking Katherine silly.”

“I’m aware of that, but Jack seemed pretty upset that she’s dead. I think he’s come to the realization that he’ll never get his money back. At least his son wasn’t all that upset about the missing money.”

“Well, it was Jack’s money from the sounds of it. I just would hate for my son to show up one day and try to take my purse strings.”

“From the sounds of it, Jack had agreed to allow his son to do that.”

“Yes, well, he wasn’t too happy about being kept on that short of a financial leash.”

“True, but boy, Jack sure wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

“I’m wondering about that. Other than calling me fish lady once, he wasn’t himself at all. He’s never been kind to either of us.”

“People sometimes do put up fronts.”

“I’ve known him longer than you and I’m telling you, I’m just not buying his calm demeanor. He’s on the top of my suspect list as far as I’m concerned.”

“We really need to find out if there really is an International Energy. I can’t think that Jack would come up with an elaborate story like that.”

“I’m not saying he made up that part, just that his temper might have gotten the best of him when she swindled him. I can
so
see Jack throttling that woman.”

I could too, actually. “We need more proof than that. We need to find out if Katherine might have had an accomplice, or if anyone else in town had been taken to the cleaners by her.”

“Most seniors we know don’t have the kind of money to invest like that.”

“Elsie Bradford does, but I don’t really understand why senior citizens need to invest their money. It’s not like they need a ton to enjoy their lives.”

“That’s true, but not everyone has much at all. Many of them are barely making do on their social security checks. Not really the type of folks who can afford to invest money at all.”

“We need to do some checking around, and soon.”

“Hopefully, by that you mean tomorrow, because I’ve about had it for today,” Eleanor admitted.

“Believe me, I know it.” I stood and stretched and asked Martha, “What’s up with your brother? I haven’t seen Stuart since he left my house in a rush the other day. I sure hope he hasn’t left town.”

Martha rubbed a cloth over the picnic table, cleaning it. “Stuart? Well, he’s been busy, I guess.”

My hands went to my hips and I demanded, “Do you know where he is or not?”

She shrugged. “I have more important things to do than worry about Stuart.”

“Like lounging on the beach all day?” Eleanor asked.

Martha smiled kindly. “You know yourself, Eleanor, that you’d rather be doing that instead of hanging around with my mom all the time.”

“I don’t hang around with your mother all the time, but actually we’re in charge of getting the Butler Mansion ready for the opening on Halloween.”

Martha clapped her hands together. “That sounds splendid. Are you planning to make the place look all Halloweenie inside?”

I made a face at the ghost who was still up a tree with the howling ghost dog below. Since nobody reacted to hearing the beast, I just had to wonder if it was all in my head. Then again, why was I able to hear the dog barking, but I couldn’t understand a word the ghost said?

“Are you okay, Mother?” Martha asked.

I snapped my neck around and sputtered, “Y-Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

“Well, for one thing you keep making faces at that tree over there. Is there something over there that you see, but we don’t?”

“Yeah, Aggie? Is there?” Eleanor also wanted to know.

They both had the most peculiar expression on their faces and I knew they must be worried, so I laughed it off. “For a moment, there were a couple of squirrels, is all. Ever since my accident, my mind sure has been wandering.”

“Yes, like right out of your head. You better give that Dr. Thomas a call to see how your CT scan turned out,” Eleanor suggested.

I made the requested quick call to appease the two of them, and Dr. Thomas’ nurse told me everything checked out fine. When I hung up, I asked Martha, “Would you mind entertaining Eleanor for a few hours? The doctor wants to see me,” I lied.

“I’ll go with you, Agnes. I insist.”

“Come on, Eleanor. I’d really rather go alone. You could lounge at the beach while I’m gone.”

Martha grinned. “That sounds great. Come on, Eleanor, I’ll introduce you around.”

“Okay, but remember, I’m engaged to Mr. Wilson.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t look, dear.”

I got into the car and headed straight to the hospital, not to see Dr. Thomas, but to question the staff about the presence of ghosts there. The ghost floated down into the passenger’s seat while the ghost dog chased after our car all the way to US 23 before he gave up.

“Whew, I didn’t think we’d ever lose that dog.” The ghost bobbed her head in agreement and I asked her, “Are you sure you can’t speak?”

She shook her head in response.

“Weird. How come that dog can bark, then?”

She shrugged and I gripped the wheel hard as I turned toward the hospital. “I’m going to ask around at the hospital to see if anyone knows who you are.”

The ghost shook her head.

“I saw you in the hospital the first time.”

She shook her head again. Fog then appeared on the inside of the windshield and the letters appeared that read ‘1930.’

“You died in 1930?”

The ghost nodded.

“Why did you attach yourself to me?”

She pounded her head and more letters were scribbled into the fogged window, ‘murder.’

“So you were murdered in 1930?”

The ghost bounced on the seat in excitement.

“Okay, so you want me to find out who murdered you?”

‘No,’ was scrawled into the fog and then, ‘help you.’

“So you were murdered in 1930, but you want to help me in my investigation?”

The fog writing disappeared and was replaced with the word, ‘investigations.’

I skidded to a stop at the red light and my heart pounded in my chest. “If you were murdered, I suppose that whoever did the deed might just be dead now, right?”

She nodded her head.

I clammed up now. I had hoped to find out a little more about her than that. Not only has this ghost now attached to me, but also fancied herself an investigator.

I advanced through the intersection as I asked, “What is your name?”

“Caroline,” she said.

I crashed over the curb in disbelief when the ghost finally spoke. I had my head on the steering wheel when my door was opened with a concerned Trooper Sales searching me for injuries. “Are you okay, Agnes?”

“Y-Yes,” I choked out. “I really made a mess of things,” I added as I got out of the car.

He stared at where I had run over the curb. “It looks fine. Did you have a spell or something?”

“Day-dreaming I suppose.”

“Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, just drive off the curb and go about your business.”

I nodded and did just that, making way back toward the campground since I didn’t have to question anyone at the hospital about if they had seen a ghost. I now knew her name was Caroline and not much else. I’d like to have questioned her further, but when Trooper Sales showed up, she disappeared. Not what I’d call the best of investigators, but hopefully I’d be able to find out more about her later. Since she was able to say her name, I hoped she could share more about who she really was, and just who might have murdered her. If not, I guessed I was okay with her helping me out with our investigation. So far, she had proved useful opening doors. The one thing I wasn’t so sure about was if I should tell Eleanor about our secret partner.

Chapter Seven

As I drove by the city beach, I couldn’t help notice a Ninja motorcycle, like the one I had seen Stuart tool off in just the other day, and in a hurry, no less.

I pulled up next to his bike and made my way slowly, keeping an eye out for Stuart. Something told me he was doing something besides enjoying the view on Lake Huron.

There was a yellow tarp fashioned into a tent with the word ‘danger’ printed on it, and that told me one of two things: there were either bare wires under that tarp, or it would be the perfect place to spy on someone. Since I believed Stuart’s absence from my life had nothing to do with him being a history major or even studying ancient civilizations, I took a look-see under that tent.

I was quiet as a mouse, or so I thought, but Stuart’s body stiffened and he turned, his eyes widening upon locking eyes with me. One hand was still on a binocular-looking thing that was attached to a tripod, the other on a handle of a Glock pistol stuck into the waistband of his pants.

He pulled me into the tent and before I had a chance to say anything, he hissed from between his teeth, “What are you doing here?”

“I saw your bike and figured out this might be where you were hiding out. Who are you spying on?”

“I can’t tell you. Go back to your car, slowly, and forget you ever saw me.”

“What are you up to? This certainly doesn’t look like you’re studying ancient civilizations to me.”

He shook his head, taking another look through the spyglass. That’s it, is he a— “Are you a spy, Stuart?”

“Spy? No! You really need to get out of here before you blow my cover. Damn, he’s gone now.”

“Who’s gone?”

The flap of the tent came up and a man holding a revolver strode in, pointing the gun at me. “Who’s the dame?”

 I stared at the man who was about my age, his gray hair quite short, wire rimmed-glasses on his face. Not only was he thin, but muscular—and quite short in stature, too.

“I don’t think I like the sound of that. Who uses names like dames these days? Who are you, anyway?”

“The name’s Len McGroovy.”

I laughed. “That’s one of the worst names I have ever heard in the whole creation of bad cover names.”

“Put that gun down, Len. That’s my mother.”

“Is she a special agent, too?”

“No, and let’s keep this between us.”

“I’ve been in retirement a whole two weeks and here you are ruining it.”

 Oh, wow. I have run smack dab into some real spy-level stuff here. Or whatever was going on. “I’ll be leaving now. You two can work out your differences after I leave.”

“You should have thought about that before,” Len said. “Out, the both of you.” Stuart and I were led outside and into the back of a rustic black van where Stuart was relieved of his firearm.

As the van backed up, I had to say, “Smart move about using an old van. A brand new one would be so much more suspect.”

A woman climbed in behind us and laughed when she spotted me. “Still having problems with working with others, Stuart?”

“I’m his mother,” I announced. I gripped my purse tightly. “I sure hope you can drop me off at the campground. My best friend is searching for me by now. Did I mention that my granddaughter is married to a state trooper? Stuart’s dad was also a—” 

The woman covered her ears. “No wonder you joined the FBI. I would to get away from a mother like that, too.”

I wanted to give her long black hair a hard yank. “I bet you never call your mother.”

“Say one more word, Granny, and I’ll pop you.”

I smiled and whipped her with my handbag, she then tumbled over and Stuart wrestled her gun from her hands. Len looked in the rearview mirror and stomped on the gas.

Stuart opened the side door and gave me a gentle shove from the careening van. I tumbled to the soft grass since the van had only started to gain speed, and Stuart landed nearby.

“What do you have in that bag of yours, Mother?”

“Rolled change. I was planning to drop it off at the bank.”

“Looks like you lost your bag.”

“That’s okay.”

“But now they’ll know where you live.”

“I’m staying at the Butler Mansion for a few days. Hopefully, that will give you plenty of time to clear your business up with Len and that lady. Who was she, anyway?”

Stuart walked me to my car. “Oh, her? She’s my wife.”

“Well, that sure explains things. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you’re doing.”

“I can’t, really, but now my cover is blown and I’ll be lucky if I find them again.”

“If I can be any more help, let me know.”

“You can do plenty if you stay away from me for the time being. I’ll have to go into deep cover now.”

I tried to say be careful, but he jogged toward the beach, disappearing. Two black cars pulled into the parking lot and I took my leave before I got into more trouble.

When I pulled back into the campground, I parked next to my Winnebago and hurried for the beach with my ghost finally appearing next to me.