Nightingale's Nightmare (Cassadaga Book 4 (8 page)

BOOK: Nightingale's Nightmare (Cassadaga Book 4
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“I think so. I don’t know...But I don’t like it one bit.”

“Can you get rid of it?”

“I guess. I’ll have to do some research. Do a spiritual cleansing of my environment.”

“Well, get out of that bed and get dressed.” Chloe said, gathering her clothes from the chair where they’d been tossed. “Let’s go home so we can deal with this pest.
I’ll help you.”

Nightingale put on her clothes
, speedily, feeling resentment building inside. What right did another person have to put a curse on someone else? That was against natural law and human decency. She wouldn’t want the karma that would certainly boomerang back from any  such action against another person. That thought alone made Nightingale shiver.

“Follow me. I’m parked out front
a ways. You stay in the lobby while I get the car,” Chloe said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Nightingale was returning to her witty, sarcastic self.

“Oh, no you don’t,” a voice from behind said loudly. “You have to ride down in a wheelchair.”

Nightingale rolled her eyes at Chloe.

“Stand there and I’ll be right back with a wheelchair.”

“Do I look like I need a wheelchair?” Nightingale asked Chloe.

“No, but it’s hospital policy. If you fall on your face outside, that’s one thing.” Chloe said. “Inside, it’s their problem. Just sit in it and we’ll go.”

Nightingale grumbled under her breath as the wheelchair was placed behind her by the nurse. She smiled sweetly up at the nurse as she sat down, cursing in her thoughts.

By the time Chloe drove up, Nightingale was waiting in the lobby with the nurse.
The doors automatically parted as the nurse pushed Nightingale outside to the curb.

“Thank you,” Nightingale said as she rose from the wheelchair and plopped down in the front seat of Chloe’s car. “Bye.”

“Miss Congeniality,” Chloe said.

“I don’t believe in being rude to people.
I may be a little annoyed, but that’s not the nurse’s fault.”

“Will you be okay by yourself tonight?”

“Of course! I’m fine, the picture of health. Isn’t that what the doctor said?”

“Okay, Miss Picture of Health. If you have any problems, anything at all, call me and I’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

“Deal.

Twelve

 

Margarite Card stumbled out of her front door on her way to the post office. She took a sniff of the air as she cautiously stepped down the three stairs.

“Smells like money to me,” she crowed in a husky voice as her skinny legs wobbled toward the street. Her graying hair flopped into her face briefly before a gust of wind pushed it back in place.

The journey to the post office was one she made daily, choosing to walk rather that drive. Margarite figured it was good exercise. After all, she was getting on in years and planned to be around a good deal longer, so it couldn’t hurt. 

“Good afternoon, Margarite,” Ralph said as the woman passed
by the bookstore.

“Same to
ya, Ralph,” she replied. “Don’t hurt your back with that digging.” Ralph stared after her as she continued on, resting on his shovel.

Margarite liked Ralph, but he seemed to be fixated on Helen. Why he was keeping company with that dippy woman, she couldn’t understand. She was convinced the men in the white coats would come along one day and cart her off to the loony ben. Maybe she’d have a chance with Ralph then.

She entered the post office as Chloe was coming out. “Hi, Margarite.”

“Hey, young ‘en.” Margarite blew out her breath as she passed
by, causing Chloe to winced as the odor struck her nostrils. She tried not to make a face over it.

“How have you been?”

“I’m doing fine. Need to practice the keyboard today when I get back,” Margarite informed her. “I’m playing in church on Sunday.”

“Oh, that will be nice.” Chloe coughed away the offensive aroma emanating from Margarite. It was still early in the day and the woman smelled like booze, which wasn’t unusual. “You take care, I have to run
back to the bookstore.”

“Yeah, I’ve got
to get back, too. Got four appointments lined up.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Chloe.

Margarite made it back to the house without incident and sat down at her organ. She stretched her bony hands and cracked her
oversized knuckles, placing limber fingers down on the keyboard. She began to play in perfect tempo, the beautiful sound wafting out the window and down the street. The woman continued until she heard the doorbell ring, indicating the arrival of her first client.

She reached for a hard candy mint from the jar setting on the organ, popping it into her mouth. Now, she was ready to begin work.

~~

Nightingale
had been sitting in front of her computer since morning. She sipped a glass of water, still searching for answers.

That cat and the curse had to go.

She could not believe she was even thinking such thoughts. It wasn’t like she was susceptible to being cursed since she believed you had to be open to the suggestion. But here she was, feeling very cursed at the moment.

Information was limited and Nightingale was frustrated, so she gave up for the time being, deciding to walk to the post office. As she
was coming out of the post office, Latisha was just rounding the corner of the building.

“Hey, girl! Looking good,” Latisha said, all smiles.

“You, too. What’s up in your world?” Nightingale asked.

“I was brought in for an interview at the Sheriff’s Office yesterday.” Latisha plucked at her collar
with her finger tips when she spoke the words.

“What on earth for?” Nightingale was aghast.

“I used to work for Bradford Perry,” she replied, a serious expression joining her announcement.

“I didn’t know that.”
No one knew much about Latisha’s life, not even Nightingale.

“Yeah, I was his personal secretary, scheduled everything for him.” She smirked a little. “I knew
everything
about that son of a bitch.”

“Oh, well, then that’s why they called you in.”

“Umm hmm, I knew it all. Every appointment, every lunch date, even his escapades, if you know what I mean.” Latisha glowed over her knowledge. “Nothing got passed me. I knew where he was twenty-four seven.”

“Then you are a very valuable person
in this investigation into his death, or murder.”

“The police seemed to think so.
” Latisha looked smug as she gazed back at Nightingale. “I knew who he was sleeping with. All of the ladies. I knew his enemies, too.”


Do you think one of them killed him?”

Latisha glanced down at her feet. “I don’t know. Who can say why anyone would kill him? I sure don’t know. And that’s what I told them. I don’t know
nothin’.”

“You aren’t even suspicious of anyone? I mean, you knew so many
of his cohorts—and girlfriends—surely one must have caused you to be suspicious?”

“No. No one.” Latisha made the statement quickly and firmly, as if she didn’t want to reveal anything
specific. Nightingale wondered if she was being evasive. Maybe Latisha didn’t want to share what she knew with her, or the police, for that matter. Perhaps Latisha was protecting Bradford, even in death. The loyal employee. Except she didn’t sound like she respected the man.

“Do you think they’re any closer to finding the perpetrator?”
Nightingale asked.

“I don’t know. They didn’t say.”

“Oh. Well, maybe something will turn up soon and we can get on with our lives here.” Nightingale shifted her mail from one hand to the other. “That would be nice for a lot of people, especially me.”

“That’s right, you’re under suspicion, just ‘cause you’re his ex-wife. Bummer.”
Latisha stared back at Nightingale. “I can see where you’d like them to find the killer. Hmm. Well, maybe soon, who knows?” Latisha smiled back at Nightingale.

“Nice talking to you, Latisha,” Nightingale said as she turned to walk away.

Nightingale noticed Ralph walking around toward the back of the bookstore as she was passing by the building.

“Hey, Ralph!’ she called.

Ralph turned around with a shovel in his hand.

“Nightingale, hi!”

“What are you up to? Digging holes today?”

Ralph smiled broadly. He really liked Nightingale, thinking she was so nice and cute with her red hair tumbling down her back. Yes, even at his age, beauty attracted him.

“Yeah, Chloe’s got me working on the back garden now. I’m planting azaleas.”

“Oh, I love azaleas,” Nightingale said, walking up to Ralph. “They’ll look great
up against the building.”

“Yeah, if I can just get one area unearthed, I’ll be ready to plant,” he said, walking around the corner with Nightingale behind him.

“You only have that small area there left,” she said, pointing at the four foot length.

“Yup,” Ralph said, plunging the end of the shovel deep into the ground. “I’ve been working at it all morning. Just a little to go now.”

The shovel stopped abruptly, meeting resistance and making a clanging noise. Ralph looked over the shovel’s edge, drew back and plunged again.
Clang!

“What the hell…”

“Something’s in the way, Ralph,” Nightingale said.

“Oh, not again…”

Ralph rubbed the top of his balding head with a look of grimness. He stooped down to investigate what was blocking his progress. As he fingered through the dirt, Nightingale watched with curiosity. When she saw what Ralph brought up from the ground, her eyes grew wide.

“Oh, my goodness, is that what it looks like?”

“Yeah, I think it’s another skull.”

“Holy shit!”

“That’s what I say.”

“Oh, my
god!  I’ll go get Chloe.” Nightingale took off half running toward the front of the building. She pulled open the heavy door and rushed in. Chloe was behind the counter at the register, adding change to the drawer.

“Chloe!” Nightingale cried. “Another skull! Out back this time.”

“Are you kidding? Good heavens, what next?”

Chloe ran around from behind the counter and toward Nightingale, sweeping passed her to the outside. Nightingale tagged along at her heels until they reached Ralph.

“Another skull?” Chloe asked as she stared open mouthed at Ralph.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid so,” he said, handing her the skull. “But it gets worse.”

“What do you mean, worse?”

Ralph looked down at the open ground. “There are more down there. I can feel them with the shovel.”

“I can’t believe it!” Chloe looked exasperated. “I’ll have to call the police again.” She flung her arms into the air and stalked away. “I’ll be back after I make the call.
Shit
!”

It wasn’t long before a sheriff’s deputy arrived at the bookstore. Corporal France was the one who exited the
vehicle. Nightingale’s heart jumped when she saw him looking so handsome in his green uniform. She felt her heart then sink with sadness. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed Bill until she saw him.

“Chloe, again,” he said as
Chloe approached him. “It seems you never lack for reasons to call us.” The deputy smiled at her.

“Unfortunately, that’s true,” she answered.

Nightingale stood nearby, waiting to be noticed. When France saw her, he hesitated a second, then proceeded as usual. He only nodded an acknowledgement of her.

“Where are the skulls this time?” he asked.

“Around back of the bookstore.” Chloe led the way around to the rear of the building.

Corporal France stood over the area in question, surveying what was obviously visible.

“There’s more than one this time,” Ralph said. “I didn’t continue digging, figured you’d do that.”

“Yes, we should handle the digging from here,” France said. “Let me call dispatch and get a detective out here.”

The corporal walked away to make contact with headquarters while Ralph, Chloe and Nightingale stood beside the unearthed soil. Each eyed the other, wondering what this skull discovery business was all about. Why were all these skulls turning up? And why only skulls? Where were the rest of the skeletons?

Thirteen

 

Deputies with picks and shovels were digging into the ground around the entire perimeter of the bookstore. You would have thought they had discovered gold in the soil. Ralph’s wheelbarrow received the skulls as they were discovered
. Nightingale and Chloe stood by, watching. Ralph had gone home when it became obvious he wouldn’t be doing any more work that day.

Detective Martinez
walked over to the women.

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