AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Henry Lewis’s gray-frosted left brow lifted a fraction of an inch. “You seem to know a lot about demons, Ms. Marx.”
“No, I really don’t,” I said. His opinion of me was low enough already; I didn’t want him thinking I dabbled in demon-summoning or other equally unsavory activities. “At least, not anything more than someone who’s done some general reading on the subject would know. But anyway, it doesn’t matter that this house has a history of hauntings, because neither I nor Brant Thoreau thought it was a ghost.”
At the mention of the dead man’s name, Chief Lewis released a breath. “Yes, let’s circle back to Mr. Thoreau. Mrs. McGill, tell me exactly what you were doing last night.”
My mother glanced briefly at her husband, then set down her coffee mug and leaned against the back of the couch. “Nothing much. Tom and I went out to dinner with Selena and Calvin Standingbear at the casino. Afterward, we came home. Brant was here, listening to the walls of the stairwell with a stethoscope. The house seemed completely quiet, but he was still making notes anyway. He wouldn’t tell us what he was doing, said he was still formulating an opinion. After that, Tom and I watched TV for a little while, and then we went to bed.”
“Right after midnight, the noises started in again,” Tom added. “They woke us up right away. We got out of bed and found Brant back in the stairwell, holding up one of those little mini-recorders so he could capture the incident.”
“We have the recorder,” Chief Lewis said. “It was found next to his body. I’ll take a listen when I get back to the station. What happened after that?”
“The noises went on for about fifteen minutes,” Tom replied. “It was nerve-wracking, obviously, but since we’d been through this several times before, we just waited it out. We went back to sleep after that.”
“And Mr. Thoreau?”
“He was still in the stairwell, making notes,” my mother said. “Before we went back to bed, I asked him if he needed anything — some coffee or water or whatever — but he said he was busy and that he was fine. I closed the door to our bedroom, and we went to sleep.”
“You didn’t hear anything after that?” the chief asked.
“Nothing,” my mother replied, and Tom nodded in agreement. “It was a little hard to fall asleep because the whole incident had put us on edge, but we managed eventually. We both slept until around six-thirty, and we took turns taking showers and getting ready, since we figured we should be put together due to having a house guest.”
“What time did you finally go downstairs?”
They both looked at each other, and Tom shrugged. “I think it was a little past seven-thirty. Definitely before eight.”
“We came down to get some coffee and breakfast,” my mother said, picking up the story. “And that’s when — when — ”
“We found Brant Thoreau at the base of the stairs,” Tom said, clearly cutting in so my mother wouldn’t have to relate that part of the incident. “It was pretty obvious from the angle he was lying in that he’d broken his neck. That’s when I called 9-1-1.”
Chief Lewis nodded. For the first time, I realized he wasn’t taking notes. Did he think it wasn’t necessary, because this was obviously an accidental death, or was he the sort of person who filed everything away mentally and wrote it down later?
Probably the latter. He was doing his best to remain neutral, but as his aura wavered into existence again, I couldn’t help noticing some orange-y spikes of suspicion.
“And you didn’t hear anything?” he asked.
“Nothing,” my mother said firmly. “But, like I said, the door to our bedroom was closed. Also, it’s at the end of the hall, farthest away from the stairs.”
A scratch of his chin, and Chief Lewis said, “Still, a grown man’s body tumbling down fifteen or twenty steps makes a pretty big racket.”
“Maybe so,” Tom allowed, “but, like my wife said, we didn’t hear a thing. Sorry we can’t be of more help to you, Chief Lewis, but we really have no idea what happened.”
“He must have slipped in the dark,” I said. “It’s tragic, but accidents like this happen all the time.”
“They do,” Chief Lewis drawled, then added, “But I do find it kind of strange the way tragedy seems to follow you around like a lost dog.”
That was one thing Henry Lewis and I could actually agree upon. I had no idea why murder and death had decided to follow me to Globe, but three dead bodies in less than six months — especially in a town with a population of less than seven thousand people — was a bit much to blame on coincidence.
I gave a helpless lift of my shoulders.
“Well, then,” Chief Lewis said, turning brisk, “I’ll wait to hear from the medical examiner on the approximate time of death. Cause of death seems pretty obvious, but again, I’ll wait on his verdict. In the meantime, I hope you didn’t have any plans to go back to California any time soon.”
My mother and Tom exchanged puzzled glances tinged with worry. “Surely you don’t think we’re suspects, do you?” Tom asked.
“I can’t say anything for sure right now,” the chief replied. “It’s early days to make a judgment call. All the same, I’d like you to stick around in case I have any further questions.”
“We’d planned to be here for at least a week,” my mother said.
“Good.” He got up from the chair and brushed at the nonexistent wrinkles on his dark blue uniform pants. “I’ll be in touch if I have any further questions. And definitely call me if you can think of anything else you’d like to add to your account of the crime.”
