Ghost Hunter (The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer Book 2): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series) (5 page)

Chapter 9

I was back on my way to Tamworth yet again. It was a rather boring drive, lots of bushland with nothing interesting to look at. Once I was down the Moonbi mountains, the countryside was more attractive, with rolling paddocks, but it was still not a drive I enjoyed. This time, I was on my way to speak with Becca Barnes, who, if what Christine Decker had told me was true, had been the mistress of Constable Decker.

This time, my plan was to pretend I had come across her accidentally, and give her a reading. It had worked with Christine, and I was hoping it would also work with Becca. Besides, nothing else came to mind.

Christine had told me that Becca worked at a computer games store in Tamworth. This time, I managed to find a parking place, even though it was several blocks from the store. It was a stifling hot day, the dry heat typical of this part of the country. As I walked down toward the store, my nervousness grew. I walked in the store, and saw a woman probably around the age of thirty. I hoped it was Becca. I walked over to the PlayStation games, and tried to look interested. Within seconds, she approached me.

“What are you looking for? Anything in particular?” she asked me.

I shrugged. “It’s a gift for my nephew’s birthday,” I said. “I know nothing about games.”

She smiled warmly at me. “How old is your nephew?”

“Oh,” I stammered. “He’s fourteen.”

She maintained her professional smile, but I figured she’d probably gone over this conversation a thousand times with other customers. “Do you know what sort of games he likes? Do you mind how violent they are?”

I thought for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t have a nephew,” I admitted, sighing.

She gave me a puzzled look before I continued. “Look, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’m a clairvoyant medium.”

The woman looked shocked. I was fairly certain by now that she was Becca, because I could feel the spirit of Constable Decker around her, more strongly than he had been around his wife. Nevertheless, he was still not telling me anything.

She shot me a polite look, but remained silent.

“Have you seen clairvoyant mediums on TV?” I asked her. “You know, they give readings, put people in touch with their deceased loved ones. Sometimes they give readings to random strangers in the street.”

Her face showed a hint of recognition. “Oh yes,” she said. “I’ve seen that on TV.”

“I can feel the spirit of a newly deceased man around you,” I said. “Not a father figure, or anything like that. I get the feeling he was a boyfriend.”

She gave me a measured look. “A customer died recently. He was a good customer, actually, a regular.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “But this person was definitely your boyfriend. Was it the same person?”

“No, the customer was married.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You should know that since you’re psychic.”

“I’m not psychic,” I said wearily. “I’m a clairvoyant medium, so I only know what the spirits tell me. I’m not the slightest bit psychic at all, but this spirit is telling me that he was in a relationship with you, and that he died very recently and in unexpected circumstances.”

The woman looked around wildly, but we were alone in the shop. “Did he say anything else?” she asked urgently.

I shook my head. “All I know is that he was a police officer and he died very suddenly recently.”

She gasped. “You can really speak with him?”

“Yes,” I said. “Do you know how he died?”

“Only what I read in the papers,” she said. “It was such a horrible shock to find out that way. The article only said that he died in the line of duty, but didn’t say anything else. Do you know any more?”

“No, I don’t,” I said, “and you have no idea how it happened?”

She shook her head, but as she did so, I felt the constable’s presence come forward swiftly. He was angry, but he did not divulge any information.

I handed her my card. “If you think of anything, please call me,” I said.

She took my card, but for all I knew, she intended to throw it out as soon as I left the store.

I left the store, feeling quite down. What had I been expecting? At least she had admitted that she was having an affair. I had to find out where Alum was being kept, and Constable Decker’s murderer would know the location. I had two suspects, Decker’s wife, Christine, and his mistress, Becca. Yet they were hardly likely to admit that they had killed him or tell me where the safe house’s location was.

I was in the depths of despair. I hurried down the street, in search of an isolated coffee shop. I dreaded cities. They were full of the spirits of the deceased, and if those spirits had any inkling that I could communicate with them, they would crowd in on me. A few times I had the uneasy sensation that I was being followed, but figured it was just the spirits of the deceased.

I wanted to find a coffee shop where I could sit, have something to eat in peace, and make notes. I always thought better on paper.

I finally found a little place that didn’t have many patrons. I hoped that wasn’t because the coffee was bad. I walked in and sat on a wooden seat with my back against the wall, a rather unpleasant lime green wall. I hoped that the half dead palm tree hanging over me would afford me some measure of privacy.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone, and turned it back on. I had two missed calls and ten texts from Constance. I groaned out loud. I looked at the last message.

‘
Prudence, I’m very angry with you. You blocked me on Facebook! How dare you! After all I’ve done for you and you blocked me on Facebook
!’

The earlier nine texts were all along the same lines. I deleted them all. I, in fact, had not blocked her on Facebook; I had not even unfriended her. It’s just that I hadn’t had much time lately to spend on Facebook. She must’ve taken my absence from Facebook as some kind of personal slur. I rubbed my forehead and muttered rudely to myself, and then looked up in dismay to see a waitress hovering over me, pen and notepad in hand.

I ordered a soy latte and a tomato sandwich. It didn’t sound very exciting, but I hadn’t had time to look at the menu, and I was ravenous. Perhaps I could have something more to eat after that.

I took my little notepad and a pen from my purse and wrote ‘Christine’ and then ‘Becca’. Were there any other suspects that I didn’t know about? Most likely. I was frustrated. Decker had been a cop after all and who knows how many criminals he had put in prison? There could be any number of people with a motive to kill him. For all I knew, the police had apprehended his murderer already. As he had been involved in guarding a safe house, they were never going to make that news public.

Still, I tried to force myself to look on the bright side. I only knew of two suspects, and that was all I had to go on. I had to find the location of the safe house, and I had to do so as soon as I possibly could.

It was then that I realized I did in fact have one more lead. Alum had told me that he’d heard a train twice a day. I couldn’t be sure he was correct, given that he was recovering from a coma, and apparently was spending most of his time asleep, but if he was correct, then that would be a good lead.

As I was in Tamworth, I decided to go to the Tamworth train station and find out which train lines had trains that only went twice a day. Surely there couldn’t be many.

Chapter 10

The Tamworth railway station building was an imposing, single story Victorian Italianate building complete with pediments, brackets, cables, and intricate Victorian window and door details. It was significantly larger than other country railway buildings I had seen.

The newer extensions had continued the color of cream and red. It was a decidedly pretty building, but I wasn’t here to admire the architecture. I made my way past the freight area, luggage office, and ticket office, in search of an official who didn’t appear to be busy.

I couldn’t find one, so I queued up outside the ticket office. When it was my turn, I informed the man that I was simply there for information. I asked him which lines had trains that only ran twice a day. To my delight, he informed me that there was only one line, the Main North Line that ran to Armidale.

“Does it terminate in Armidale?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said. “And that’s the only line that has trains that run twice a day.”

I thanked him and made my way back through the heat to my car.

I turned on the air conditioning, and sat in my car for a few moments. Two trains a day, and the line was from Tamworth to Armidale. That was only just over fifty miles, and there weren’t many towns on the way. I could only think of Bendemeer, Kentucky, and Uralla—and the city of Armidale itself. That meant that the safe house was in one of those towns, and close enough for Alum to hear the train. I figured he was in a house close to the highway, but there was always the possibility that he was in a farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. That would make it even harder to find him.

I cranked up the air conditioning and shook my head. No, surely Alum was in a town. He had needed medical attention, and I doubted that a safe house would be somewhere on a farm.

I drove out of the parking area, my spirits lifted. Finally, I was getting somewhere.

I reached the little town of Moonbi about ten minutes later, and parked under a spreading shady tree. On my phone, I googled to find the towns that the northern line ran through.

It proved to be far more difficult than I thought. I found that it was the
Northwest Explorer Train
and that it took just under two hours to run from Tamworth to Armidale, but I had to search each town one by one. I found it went through the towns of Walcha Road and Uralla, but did not stop at Kentucky or Bendemeer. Still, I was fairly certain that the railway line ran through both of those small towns.

This meant that I had several towns to search for the safe house, Uralla and Walcha, the smaller towns of Bendemeer and Kentucky, and the city of Armidale. I knew that the railway station in Armidale was on the east side of the city, so I would only have to search about one third of the area.

I started the engine, my spirits dropping. Who was I trying to fool? It was like searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. All the driving backward and forward to Tamworth had taken its toll on me, as had all the worry over Alum. I looked in the refrigerator for something to eat, but I could only see vegetables. I needed a sugar fix, and fast.

I decided to go to the restaurant at one of the local pubs for dinner. The food was excellent there, and I wouldn’t be able to eat out for too long much longer, given all the cancellations. I would have to start watching the money very closely, but for now, I needed a decent meal.

My only concern was that Constance would be there, because if she was, she would give me a hard time. I gingerly drove up to the closest pub, and parked around behind it. There was no sign of Constance’s bright red car. I went in the side entrance and took a seat at the back of the room. So far, so good.

I was staring at the menu, so I jumped when someone called my name. I looked up to see Iris standing over me. “Hi, Iris,” I said. “Where’s your husband?”

She sat down in the seat opposite me. “He’s gone away for the week, so I thought I’d come here for food. He always cooks.”

“Yes, I’ve come here in search of a decent meal, too,” I said.

“Can I join you?” Iris asked.

“Sure.”

“Is everything all right, Prudence? You look tired.” Iris leaned forward and peered into my face.

“No, not really,” I said. “My agent tells me that most of my shows have been canceled. In fact, the only one that’s booked for sure is the one in Armidale that’s coming up soon.”

Iris looked horrified. “You poor thing! You certainly don’t need to be poor and destitute at your age.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be destitute, Iris,” I said, making no attempt to hide my irritation. “And what’s age got to do with it?”

“I’m sorry,” she said insincerely. “I know you don’t like me going on about our ages.”

I nodded. “That’s right; I don’t like any mention of it.”

Iris shrugged. “Okay. I know you don’t like me talking about it, Prudence, but you’re not getting any younger, you know. You do need a man, and what was wrong with that lovely man who came into the coffee shop the other day?”

I snorted rudely. “Do you want me to make you a list?”

Iris narrowed her eyes. “Beggars can’t be choosers. If you had a man, you wouldn’t have money worries.”

“But you have money worries, and you have a husband,” I pointed out.

“No, it’s not the same thing,” Iris said. She was clearly making an effort to be patient. “He makes a lot of money. It’s just that we’ve been spending more lately. We’re not in your situation. If you can’t make a living as a medium, then what on earth can you make money doing? You won’t be able to pay your mortgage, and where will you end up? Out on the streets? You can hardly go and live with your son in Dubai.”

“Iris, I wish you would say something to make me feel better, instead of making me feel upset. Can’t you say anything positive? My father used to say that if you don’t have something nice to say, then don’t say it at all.” I made an effort to make my tone even, even though I was upset.

Iris appeared to take my words well. “Yes, you’re right, Prudence,” she said. “I wish I could give you some good advice. I’ll try to think of some ideas for you to make money.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” I said, glad that she had changed her tune. “My agent thinks it’s only a temporary problem, but I’m beginning to think it’s worse than that. It’s just that I can’t think what else I can do. Ever since my divorce, I’ve been making my living as a medium.”

“You wouldn’t have a big mortgage, would you, on your little house?” Iris asked me.

“No, it’s not a big mortgage, but it
is
a mortgage, and I’m still a long way from paying it off. And even if I owned my house outright, I still have to eat, and the cats have to eat.”

“I always sell my old clothes on eBay, and I’ve even sold some of the furniture that way too,” Iris said. “I know some people do make a living on eBay, but I don’t know if
you
could.”

“I don’t know if I could, either,” I admitted. “And I have no idea what sort of things I could sell. Actually, it did occur to me to go thrift diving, and sell those items on eBay. I could store them in the spare room. I wonder if I should start thrift diving now, and build up some stock in readiness.”

“That’s a good idea,” Iris said. “I’ll keep an eye out for you when I go to thrift stores, too.”

I thanked her. “Well, we had better order now so we can get in first,” I said, nodding to the people who had just arrived in the beer garden.

Just then, Alum appeared beside the table. I jumped.

“What’s wrong?” Iris shot me a look of concern.

“I just saw a shimmering light over there.” I nodded to where Alum was standing. “I thought it might be a migraine coming on.”

“You poor thing,” Iris said sympathetically. “You can’t be too careful at our age.”

I resisted the urge to hit her and instead looked at Alum. “Any news?”

Iris, of course, thought I was talking to her. “Yes,” she said. “My husband’s away for the week, and as he does all the cooking every night, I haven’t been getting enough to eat. You know how careful I have to be with all my allergies, and as well I have celiac disease, and as well I have irritable bowel syndrome. I thought I might be coming down with scarlet fever as well. Plus the kids are giving me a hard time, as usual.”

I stood up. I had not heard a thing Alum had said. “I think I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him to try to get him to follow me in.

“I can’t go in there!” he said with alarm.

“You must!” I said firmly.

“I must what?” Iris said, looking at me strangely.

“Eat much better,” I said. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I slowly walked away from the table, looking over my shoulder to make sure Alum was following me. To my relief, he was.

I walked down the long, dark passageway to the ladies’ bathroom which was at the end of the corridor. Luckily, no one was in there.

I opened the door to one of the cubicles and waved Alum inside.

He held up his hands in protest.

“Alum, get in there now, fast,” I said. “Who knows when someone else will be along, and we mightn’t have much time to talk.”

Alum appeared to be quite reluctant, but he did go into the cubicle. I followed him in and shut the door. “What’s happening?” I asked him.

“Prudence, they told me that I’m improving rapidly. I still haven’t been able to speak with them, or write, but it probably won’t be long before I can. However, I
have
heard something.”

“What?” I said rather too loudly. I felt quite strange being squashed with Alum in a bathroom cubicle, even though he was insubstantial and I would be able to pass right through him.

“I heard that Constable Summers is from Oxley Grove Police Station, in Tamworth.”

“Oxley Grove,” I repeated.

Alum nodded. “Yes, and Constable Decker was from there, too. That makes me think that whoever replaced Constable Decker—and I don’t know who it is—is also likely to be from Oxley Grove Station.”

“But that’s fantastic news!” I said. “I wonder if I could follow one of them out to the safe house.”

Alum reached out his hand to my shoulder, but it passed straight through. He took a step closer to me. “No, Prudence. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Don’t forget, I was nearly killed, and you could be in danger if Decker’s murderer finds you snooping around. Prudence, I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you. In fact…”

And with that, he vanished.