Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery (31 page)

Chapter 38

F
lashing lights of various colors lit up the neighborhood within ten minutes. Officers from city, county, and state agencies stood in the backyard quietly, all eyes on the small concrete shed in the corner of the yard. I was still standing near the door, watching Mike, who still hadn’t moved away from Reagan’s body. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene. So I just stood there watching him.

Someone touched my shoulder, and I turned around to see Dad standing there. “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“The dispatcher is a member of the church. She called me at your grandmother’s wedding reception, told me you were here, and what was going on.”

I threw my arms around him. “I completely forgot about the reception. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right. I explained to them that there was an emergency. They totally understood.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome.”

I stepped back, wiping tears from my eyes.

“Who is it?”

“Joanne Reagan, the rookie that just started a few months ago.”

“I know her. She’s a nice young woman. Any idea what happened?”

I shook my head. “Could you say something to Mike? He hasn’t moved since we found her.”

“Is it okay for me to go in there?”

Looking around, I spotted Reynolds nearby. He was dressed in jeans, long-sleeved shirt, a WPD ball cap, and boots, his badge clipped onto his belt. I motioned for him to come over. “Jeff Reynolds, this is my father, Reverend Jim Shaw. Would it be all right if he went over to talk to Mike? It might help get him out of the shed.”

“Just don’t touch anything,” Reynolds said. “We’ll take an imprint of your shoe later for elimination purposes.”

Dad nodded and squeezed my hand. He walked over to the open door. “Mike, it’s Jim Shaw. Would you mind if I say a prayer for your officer?”

I didn’t hear the answer, but I saw Dad put his hand on Mike’s shoulder as he bowed his head to pray. Reynolds took off his hat, and when I looked over my shoulder, the other officers standing in the backyard did the same thing, even though they couldn’t hear what was being said.

When Dad was through, he said something else to Mike, who finally stood up and came outside. He looked around the yard at all of the officers standing there. “I appreciate all of you showing up,” Mike said. “Officer Joanne Reagan was one of my rookie officers, and she showed a lot of promise. She was here working a case. I don’t know who did this to her, but we will find them, and they will pay. Let’s break up into groups of three or four; I want this entire property gone through with a fine tooth comb. The woman who lives here is the victim of a kidnapping; we were contacted earlier today and given a ransom demand. It was delivered via video feed in that shed. There are cameras all over this yard, so whoever did this was caught on tape. We need to analyze that tape and see if we can get a clear picture of our suspect. There is previous damage in the house, so I want Reynolds to work the inside. He’ll know what damage is old and what is new.”

A county sheriff’s deputy spoke up. “My men and I will help set up light stands and go over the front yard and the garage.”

“We’ll take the alley and backyard,” a state trooper said.

“Let’s get some people talking to the neighbors,” Mike said.

“Got it, Chief,” Goodwin said.

“Let’s get busy, people. We’ve got a killer out there somewhere.”

Before they took off, the officers came over and shook my father’s hand, thanking him for being there and for the prayer he had said. He knew how much it meant to them without them saying anything, but he nodded and repeatedly said, “You’re welcome”.

Reynolds pulled me aside. “That was pretty cool what your dad did for Reagan.”

“Dad was a chaplain’s assistant in Vietnam. He understands the comfort of prayer to those on the front lines. Trust me, he is hurting as much as all of you are right now.”

“He’s a good man, and he has a wonderful daughter. That couldn’t have been an easy call for you to make.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said, swallowing hard. He gave me a quick hug and hurried off.

“I’m going to head home,” Dad said. “Will you be all right here?”

“I’m not going to stay much longer,” I assured him. “I just want to talk to Mike first.”

Dad gave me a big hug. “If you want to come over to the house after you leave, that’s fine. You know how to get in.”

“I’ll probably just go on home, but thanks just the same.”

“We’ll see you in the morning?”

“I’ll be there, I promise.”

I watched Dad leave before turning my attention to Mike, who was standing by the shed door. “Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything I can do for you?”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have left her here alone.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “She knew the risks of the job, and she accepted them.”

“We all accept them, but that doesn’t make it any easier when an officer dies, Cam.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Chief, Quincy is here,” Goodwin said.

“Thanks.”

I moved away to let the medical examiner in, and wandered over to the back porch. While I stood there, I looked around, just to see if I noticed anything different. I did a double take when I looked on the ground by the back door. Turning toward the shed, I noticed Mike was talking to the doctor, so I decided to wait.

“How ya doing?” Mac said.

“Worried about him.”

“He’ll be all right. You’ll make sure of that.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Mac shook his head. “I haven’t talked to her. She just appeared briefly at Lillian’s house, about thirty seconds, then she was gone. That’s when I went to your house, but I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“That’s why you were hiding in my bedroom.”

“I had planned to give you another few minutes before going to find you. How old was she?”

“I’m not sure, early twenties, I think.”

“Too damn young,” he said. “Her whole life ahead of her.”

“Like it once was for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything you can do for Reagan?” I asked him.

“Lillian said she’d keep an eye out for her. I thought I might try to find her.”

“That would be great. Would you let me know if you do?”

“You got it. Cam?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

“Something I should know?”

“Just worried about you.”

“That’s sweet. I’ll be careful.”

He nodded and disappeared.

Mike was still talking to Quincy, so I walked through the side gate and over to the driveway. For about thirty minutes, I watched these men and women, in different colored uniforms but all united for a common cause, go about their work. People didn’t always appreciate the work these officers did, but at this moment, I saw through the work. I saw the heartache and pain because of the loss of one of their own. It made me wish that others could see what I was seeing.

Reynolds was walking toward me with something in his hands. When he got close enough, I saw it was an American flag. My heart went into my throat, and I choked back a sob. “Reynolds,” I called out.

“Yeah?”

I walked over to him. “Would you mind if I take that back there? I know you want to, but if it’s all right with you, I’d like to do it. It’s the least I can do for what you all do for us. Please.”

He hesitated for a minute. I looked up at him, and he saw the tears in my eyes. “Sure, go ahead,” he said, handing it to me. “I’ll walk with you.”

I held it gently, running my hand over the red and white stripes. The officers who were near us stopped what they were doing and watched as Reynolds and I turned toward the backyard. Without a word, they fell in behind us, forming two rows.

Walking through the gate, all eyes turned toward us as we made our way to the shed. The medical examiner and his assistant were gently putting the black body bag on the gurney. The assistant saw us coming, and said something to Mike and his boss. The three of them watched us as we approached them.

“Reynolds was kind enough to allow me to bring this flag over for Officer Reagan. I asked him to let me. I just wanted to pay my respects to her for her service,” I said to Mike.

He reached out and put his hand on my cheek briefly. “Thank you, Cam,” he said, taking the flag from me.

They rolled the gurney out a little, and stepped out of the way. Mike and Reynolds unfolded the flag and gently draped it over Reagan’s body. Goodwin and another WPD officer joined them, each man standing at one corner of the gurney. When I turned around, all of the officers were standing in two lines, facing each other. As Mike and his men started to move forward, dozens of arms slowly rose until they touched the brims of their hats. I stood there and watched as they slowly made their way across the yard and through the side gate.

By the time I made it to the driveway again, they had put Reagan’s body in the back of an ambulance. Mike came over to me. “I’m going to ride in the ambulance to the morgue.”

“What about her family?”

“Her parents still live in Idaho. One of the state troopers put in a call to the state troopers up there. They’re going to send a couple of troopers and a chaplain to their house to deliver the news. They’ll stay with the family, help them make the arrangements. We’ll probably have a service here, and there will be one in her hometown for her family and friends. I’m just guessing.”

“I’ll pick you up at the morgue, bring you back here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, “but thank you. We’re going to give her a police escort, and I’ll hitch a ride back with Reynolds. I need to be with my officers right now.”

“Of course you do. I totally understand. Call me if you need me. I don’t care what time it is.”

Mike gave me a hug, holding me a little longer than he normally would have in front of all his officers. “Thank you. How did you know something was wrong?”

“Mac was in my bedroom, trying to work up the courage to come out and tell us. He didn’t say much of anything really; he just had this sad look on his face. I instinctively knew. He’s going to see if he can find her, make sure she’s all right. She showed up at the Ingram house for a minute. Lillian is going to watch out for her, in case she comes back. They’ll take care of her, I promise.”

“That makes me feel a little better,” he said. “Tell Mac I said thanks.”

“I will.”

“I better go,” Mike said. He gave me a sad smile before he started to walk away. Then he turned around and came back. Cupping my face in his hands, he said, “I’ve been meaning to say this to you for a while, and maybe now isn’t the right time. But I want you to know that I love you.”

My eyes filled with tears again, and I put my hands over his. “I love you too, Mike. Be careful, okay?”

“I will. You, too.”

“Always.”

He smiled again, then turned and hurried over to the ambulance. He climbed into the back and sat down on the bench as the driver closed the doors. Goodwin got into his patrol car, while a sheriff’s deputy and a state trooper got into their own patrol cars. Lights flashing, but with no sirens, the four vehicles started the slow drive to the morgue.

Ch
apter 39

Wednesday night/Thursday

W
hen I got home, Randy’s car was in my driveway, and the living room lights were on. He was in the kitchen, fixing guacamole. “Let me guess: Dad called you,” I said as I put my keys and phone on the kitchen table.

“No, I saw him when he came back to the reception. He told me what happened, and gave me his key to your house.”

“Didn’t you have a date with Nigel tonight? Weren’t you two going to the wedding reception together?”

“We did go, but once your dad talked to us, we thought it was more important to be here for you,” Nigel said behind me.

“Your grandmother agreed. How’s Mike?” Randy asked me as he put the bowl of guacamole on the table.

“In shock, I think. Very emotional. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that before.”

“Your dad mentioned that Mike seemed to be having a hard time.”

“He feels guilty that she was there by herself. Apparently, she was there for four hours, was replaced by someone else, and then went back for a second shift shortly before she was killed. Mike feels he should have been the one taking a shift.”

“Why didn’t he?” Nigel asked. I glared at him. “I’m not suggesting that the chief was shirking his duty. Merely curious.”

“We were at the theatre, arresting a murderer.”

Randy gasped. “You found out who killed Susan Ingram?”

I nodded. “It was Richard Danforth, the director. He mistook Susan for Rachel, who was blackmailing him for a starring role in his next production.”

“Wow,” Randy said. “So I guess that’s the end of the show, then?”

“You know the old saying: ‘The show must go on’. The actors are going to honor their commitment, and do the other two performances.”

“That’s very good of them. Very professional,” Nigel said.

Randy filled three glasses with ice and put them on the table, while Nigel opened a large brown bag. The smell of fresh tortilla chips filled the air as he poured them into another bowl.

“Where did you guys get fresh chips?”

“We stopped by that Mexican restaurant by the highway,” Randy said, pouring a Dr Pepper in a glass. “The hostess on duty tonight is a friend of mine. We’ve got salsa, chicken flautas, sour cream and sopapillas, too. I thought you might want some comfort food.”

I checked the time, and was surprised to see that it was almost midnight. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep any time soon, so I sat with Nigel and Randy, enjoying their company.

They left about an hour and a half later, after helping me clean up. “Call me if you need anything,” Randy said.

“I will. I’ve got some things to do in the morning. I still need to replace my license and credit cards. My inbox is probably full, so I’ll be buried in work.”

“Tell Mike we’re thinking about him and his officers,” Nigel said. “I can only imagine what they’re going through right now.”

“I will, and thank you both.”

After I locked the door and turned on the alarm, I carried my phone into the bedroom and got ready for bed. I wasn’t sure if Mike would call or not, but I wanted to have the phone nearby in case he did.

However, he didn’t call that night, or the next day. I drove by the station a couple of times, but I didn’t stop. There was so much going on, between Richard’s arrest and Reagan’s murder. He would get in touch when he had time.

It was hard to concentrate on work when I was worried about Mike. I spent more time staring off into space than I did working. I finally gave up, shut off my computer, and started cleaning the house. I even cleaned the grill before I grabbed a book and sat down in one of the deck chairs.

A little while later, I heard the side gate open. When I looked in that direction, Mike was standing there, watching me. He smiled and joined me on the deck. “How are you doing?” I said.

“I’ve had better weeks.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not at the moment.”

I nodded.

“How are you doing?” he asked me.

“Worried about you.”

“Sorry I haven’t called.”

“I knew you were busy. I drove by the station a couple of times today,” I admitted.

He laughed. “Why didn’t you stop?”

I shrugged.

He looked over at the grill. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

“I don’t have anything planned. I take it you’re hungry?”

“I could eat.”

We went inside to see what was in the fridge. There was a package of chicken breasts, so I took them out, turned the oven on, and prepped the chicken. I poured some rice in a casserole dish, added cream of chicken soup, paprika, and a little pepper, put in the chicken, then topped it off with shredded cheese. I covered the dish with foil, and put it in the oven.

I started washing the dishes. “I was wondering if you could help me with something,” he said as he picked up a dish towel and started drying them.

“Sure, what do you need me to do?”

“I need to get something out of my car,” he said, putting down the towel. “Be right back.”

I picked up the discarded towel and dried the rest of the dishes. After hanging up the towel, I started setting the table. Mike came back inside and handed me a manila folder. “What’s this?”

“Crime scene photos from last night.” I must have gone pale, because he reached out and touched my arm. “Nothing graphic, I promise. These were taken after we removed her body.”

Hesitantly, I opened the folder. “What am I looking for?”

“I don’t want to influence you,” he replied. “You were there that morning, so I’m sure you remember how things looked. Just tell me what you see.”

The first few pictures were of the interior of the shed. I could see the video equipment on the table. When I got to the third picture, I noticed something. “Excuse me a moment. I’m going to grab my magnifying glass out of my office.”

“Did you find something?” Mike asked when I came back into the kitchen.

“What happened to the recorder?” I said, looking up. “It’s not here.”

“We noticed that, too.”

“So you don’t have a picture of Reagan’s killer?”

“No, we don’t.”

“How was she killed?”

“From what we can tell, there was a struggle, and she was hit over the head. We’re not sure with what, though.”

“Maybe she walked in on the person taking the equipment,” I said. “Could they have hit her with it?”

“Hm, I didn’t think of that,” Mike replied. “It’s certainly possible. The M.E. says she was hit several times by a blunt object. The suspect panicked when Reagan came in and hit her.”

I looked through a few more pictures before another one made me stop. “This is weird,” I said.

“What’s that?”

I slid the picture over to him. “Tell me what you see.”

“The back porch.”

“Correct. What else?”

“The normal things you would see on a back porch: firewood, a lounge chair, a grill.”

“What don’t you see?”

He looked at the picture again. “I have no idea.”

“The dog bowls.”

“What?” he said, looking confused.

“I remember there were two dog bowls right by the back door. But they aren’t there now. Did your people take them in for evidence?”

“I don’t think so.” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Reynolds? Do you have a list of the evidence we took from the Dimwitty house?” he said, pushing the speaker button.

“Yeah, it’s right in front of me.” We heard papers being shuffled around. “Here it is.”

“Look for dog bowls.”

“Dog bowls, sir?” Reynolds said, sounding puzzled.

“Is that what I said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then that’s what I’m looking for.”

“Yes, sir. Let me look…”

I got up and took two bottles of water out of the fridge, handing one to Mike.

“Sorry, sir, I don’t see them on the list. Is it important?”

“I don’t know yet, Reynolds. I’ll let you know. Thanks.” He hung up. “Okay, so no dog bowls. Like Reynolds said, is it important?”

“Explain to me why someone who is after surveillance equipment stops and steals dog bowls.”

“Because they have a dog.”

“This is going to sound stupid…”

“After the bowls? I doubt it.”

“I want to go to her house and see if the dog food is there.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity.”

“My curiosity is not that high.”

“How about this then? We can’t find the dog, and the dog bowls are gone now, too. If the food is gone, then we have two possibilities: Whoever kidnapped Pamela took the dog, too,” I said as the oven timer went off.

“Or Pamela is faking her kidnapping, and came back for the food and the bowls for the dog,” Mike said as his phone rang. “Penhall. Where? Tell Reynolds to meet me there.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s going on at the Dimwitty house. You said you wanted to go over there. Come on.”