Chapter 14

The séance left me exhausted and had robbed me of a good night’s sleep. I tossed in my bed. Anxious. My mind restless. I kept thinking about Zoey and Alicia Mae. How our group hadn’t closed out the séance properly, thanking the spirits for visiting, and bidding them farewell. I feared Lacey’s ghost had gotten the best of me. Her presence had been a complete surprise. Not that ghosts don’t arrive unannounced at séances, but normally, I would have had more control over the situation. The only possible excuse I could give myself was that I was so taken by Alicia Mae—seeing her for the first time, and her interaction with Wilson—that I was thrown off my game. Wilson appeared affectionate, selfless, and almost paternal. So much so, that I was ill-prepared for Lacey’s visit.

The next day I decided to make an unannounced visit to Zoey. I wanted to talk to her face to face about Chad. While I was there, I planned to make an inspection. If Lacey had followed either Chad or Zoey home, I needed to know. I wanted to do whatever I could to correct my mistake as soon as possible. Under the circumstances, one ghost in a house, despite the size of the Pink Mansion, was quite enough.

  

The security gate was wide open when Wilson and I arrived at Zoey’s. An old, yellow Subaru sedan was parked in the Pink Mansion’s drive, the trunk open with boxes inside. I hobbled up the walk with Wilson at my side and stopped to catch my breath. I was about to continue my ascent up the hill when Zac and Kelsey came out of the house carrying boxes.

The two were arguing and didn’t see me. I stepped back beneath the big magnolia tree.

Kelsey waited for Zac to put his box in the trunk then slammed it shut. “I’m just saying we wouldn’t be in this position if Chad had kept his head in the music and his fly zipped.”

“You’re just angry things haven’t progressed as you wanted,” Zac said.

“How could they? The man’s a womanizer.”

“Something you want to tell me?”

“Shut it, Zac. You know better.”

I stepped on a twig. The two turned and looked in my direction.

“Misty,” Zac called my name. “I didn’t realize you were here. Need some help?”

“No. I’m fine. I wanted to stop by to check on some things. Everything okay?”

Kelsey slapped her hand on the trunk. “You have to ask after last night? I’d think you’d know.”

Kelsey trounced back into the house. Zac behind her.

“More trouble in paradise?” Wilson asked.

“Looks like it,” I said. I ambled up the last of the steps to the house and tapped lightly on the front door. “Zoey? It’s Misty. You here?”

Moments later it wasn’t Zoey who came to the door, but Chad. He looked like he hadn’t slept. His hair a mess, his eyes weary. He said he spent the night on the couch at Zac and Kelsey’s. The two of them had come back with him and were upstairs. As for Zoey, she had left for an early morning shoot and wasn’t home.

“She kicked me out. You happy?” Chad turned his back to me and headed barefoot down the hall. In his distraught state, he didn’t care if I came in the house or not.

Wilson left my side and went immediately in search of Alicia Mae, while I followed Chad as far as the master bedroom. Then stopped short of entering

I sensed another energy in the room.

“You alone?” I asked.

“Does it look like I have company?” The bedroom was a mess. Clothes on the floor, an open suitcase and a pile of what looked a lot like dirty laundry on the bed. Chad began sorting through them.

Across the room, sitting on the edge of the dresser in a racy, red negligee, was Lacey. She finger waved to me and smiled. I quietly finger waved back.

“You don’t see her?” I asked.

“See who?”

“No one,” I said. If Chad wasn’t aware of Lacey’s presence, perhaps I still had time.

I clapped my hands. Three times. Loud and vigorously. On the third clap, I whipped my index finger in the air, upwards toward the ceiling like a master wizard. That should have done the trick. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Lacey remained.

“You okay?” Chad screwed his face up in a contorted smile.

“Better than you, I think. Look, I’m sorry, Chad.”

“Yeah, right. You’re sorry. A lot of good that does.” Chad threw a couple of socks into the suitcase. “The cops think Lacey was murdered, and you got Zoey believing in ghosts. And now she thinks I was having an affair with Lacey.”

“Were you?” I stepped over to the bed, picked up a lone sock, found its match, and tossed it into the suitcase.

“It’s not like it sounds.” Chad took a pair of briefs from the dresser, wadded them into a ball and threw them toward the suitcase. And missed. “You got to understand, Lacey came on to me. Zoey had been working crazy hours and I...I made a mistake, okay? I never meant for Lacey to think it was anything more than that.”

Lacey picked up the briefs and, doing a little jig, threw them back into the drawer. Chad did a double take, shook his head like they might be another pair of like-colored boxers he had missed, and stuffed them back into the bag.

This was worse than I thought.

“You didn’t kill her?” I asked.

“Me?” Chad drew his mouth awkwardly to one side of his face. “Do I look like a killer to you? I’ll admit I was upset with Lacey, but I never would have killed her. I feel awful about it.”

Lacey made a sad face, pouted her lower lip and rubbed her baby doll eyes with her fists.

“Any idea who did?” I looked at Lacey. She shrugged. The girl didn’t have a clue, which isn’t unusual. With some deaths, particularly violent deaths, the deceased blanks out all memory of the actual act and transition.

“How would I know?” Chad asked.

“What about Zoey? Did she stay here last night? Alone?”

Chad shrugged. “Probably. Crystal was here when I came in this morning. She said Zoey called her and she stayed in the guest bedroom.”

“Did Crystal mention anything to you about the house or anything unusual happening last night?”

“You mean about the ghost?” Chad hissed. “No, she didn’t mention anything about a ghost. You happy? And I wish you’d stop with this whole ghost-bit. There is no such thing as a ghost.”

With her finger to her lips, Lacey pushed the suitcase off the bed.

“Dammit. Silk sheets. I hate ’em. Zoey loves ’em, but nothing ever stays put on the bed. Slip slides in every direction.” Chad smoothed the sheets then picked up the bag and put it back on the bed.

What could I say? If Chad chose not to believe in ghosts, or was simply ignoring the obvious, thinking it would go away, I wasn’t about to change his mind. At least not yet. He’d find out soon enough. Lacey may not have had Chad in life, but as a ghost, she had every ability to haunt him. Poor man, he had no idea what he was in for.

The doorbell rang, followed by a heavy knocking on the front door. Chad threw a couple T-shirts into the suitcase and slammed it shut. “Now what?”

I followed Chad to the entry. Zac and Kelsey had just come downstairs with boxes and upon seeing me, did an about face, and went out the back way. Chad had barely turned the handle on the door when someone on the other side pushed it open.

“What the—”

“Morning, son.” Chad stumbled backward as Detective Romero entered. “I think you and I need to have a little talk.” Spotting me behind Chad, he added, “Well now, this is interesting. Misty Dawn. Have to say, I didn’t expect to find you here. Certainly not at this hour.”

“And good morning to you too, Detective.” I stepped out from behind Chad.

“Doing a little investigating on your own are you?”

“More of a visit, if you really must know,” I said.

“Well, this isn’t.” The detective slapped an envelope against Chad’s chest. “Search warrant, buddy.”

“For what?” Chad crushed the warrant in his hand. “You already searched the place twice. Now what do you want?”

“I’m looking for whatever might have been used to knock Lacey Adams out. You got any ideas?” Romero asked.

“Not a clue, and whatever you think you’re going to find, you’re not going to find it here.” Chad backed away from the detective and stuffed the warrant in his pocket. “’Cause even if I had killed Lacey—which I didn’t—I wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide something here. Not in the same house where she was murdered. I’m not a moron, Detective.”

“But you are her baby’s father,” Romero said.

“Ugh, shit.” Chad hung his head. “How?”

“DNA, son. The coroner got a match off the fetus growing inside your girlfriend’s womb.”

“She wasn’t my girlfriend.” Chad ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, this is all a big mistake. I can explain. Lacey wanted me to leave Zoey, but I never would have left Zoey for her. We were just fooling around. If you think I killed Lacey because she got pregnant, you’re wrong.”

“How about Zoey? We matched her DNA to the cigarette butt we found out by the pool. From the looks of it, that butt wasn’t laying around too long. Couldn’t have been there more than a day. Maybe the two of you killed her together.”

Chad threw his arms up in the air. “You people.”

Romero waved two plainclothes detectives through the door and told them to search everything. “Including the boxes Chad’s buddies carried out through the garage. Go through this place like you were looking for gold.” Turning to Chad, he said, I may not have enough to make an arrest yet, but I’ve got enough to tell you and Zoey not to plan on leaving town any time soon.”

“How about the house? It okay if I leave here?” Chad nodded to more boxes in the hallway. “News flash, Detective, Zoey threw me out. I’m staying at my drummer’s place. That okay with you?”

“Long as we know where to find you.”

“Fine. Have at it. Search the place, I don’t care. Tear it apart if you like. You’re not going to find anything with my prints on it connected to Lacey’s murder. ’Cause like I said, I didn’t do it.”

Chad walked back down the hall toward the master bedroom.

“One more question, Chad.”

Chad stopped. “What’s that?”

“The night Lacey died Zoey told us you came home late and she was in bed. That Lacey planned to let herself out.”

“So?”

“So if Lacey was going to let herself out, where was her car?”

“Her car?” Chad scratched his head.

“Yeah, her car. How’d she get here?”

“I don’t know. Lacey liked to drink. She knew she and Zoey would be working late. They sometimes drank when they worked. Maybe she took an Uber. There wasn’t a car parked in front when I came home.”

“And you didn’t sneak out back and maybe have a little rendezvous with Lacey while Zoey slept?”

“I told you, I didn’t see Lacey.”

I thought now might be a good time to retreat back into the bedroom and corner Lacey. See if I couldn’t convince her to vacate the premises. I told the detective if he didn’t mind, I’d take my leave.

“Actually, Misty, long as you’re here, I’d like to have a word with you too. I have a couple of questions.”

“Concerning the case?” I couldn’t imagine what more he wanted to ask me. He had made it clear when we last spoke, despite my reputation with the LAPD, that he didn’t put much stake in my work or my profession.

“Maybe,” he said. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room? We can chat when I finish here.”

I did exactly that. Took a seat on the couch and stared out the big picture window at the backyard. The morning light on the pool’s clear blue water created a serene, shimmering effect beneath the big weeping willow, its branches hung low to the grass as though it were hiding something. The yard was pristine, green and fresh with a colorful border of sweet peas and pansies. I concentrated on the scene in front of me and closed my eyes. Wilson had said beneath the tree was the playhouse. With my mind’s eye, I recreated the scene in front of me: the pool, the shimmering water, and the big tree. When it was crystal clear in my mind, I opened my eyes. There in front of me, like a mirage, was the playhouse and the child’s picnic table Alicia’s father had built for her. Exactly as Wilson had described.

And sitting at the table were Wilson and Alicia.

This was the same table Alicia and Heather had used for their tea parties. The same table and playhouse later residents had destroyed. But, in Alicia’s world, the table and the playhouse had remained, and for all the years since her accident, the safe-house where Alicia had stayed. Safe and sound, in her make-believe world. Right here in Pink Mansion’s backyard. Waiting. But for what? Was Wilson right? Was she waiting for her mother’s return? I watched as Wilson sat at the table with Alicia and played patty-cake. A game I doubted Wilson had ever played before meeting the little ghost. Now, to watch him, he looked like her adoring uncle, smiling and laughing. Did he understand this wasn’t really her home? Did he know, like I did, that the day would come when it would be his job to send her away? To explain to her that the world she thought she knew was but temporary? That the friends she thought were real were not of her world, but another, generations later? I preferred not to think about it.